Sermon: Assumptions and fairness (September 24, 2023)

Pentecost 17A
September 24, 2023
Matthew 20:1-16

INTRODUCTION:

Today’s readings address one of the most basic values of humanity: fairness. From as early as 9 months, humans demonstrate a sense of what is fair and what is not. In fact, even animals have a sense of this! And today’s readings will challenge your understanding of what is fair. In Jonah, we’ll hear the lesser-known part of the story – Jonah has already been eaten and burped back up by the large fish, and has preached his sermon about repentance to the people of Ninevah, and now is eager to see God’s retribution on their sinfulness. After all, they were just a bunch of Assyrians, Israel’s enemies, so they deserve punishment. But God changes God’s mind… and Jonah is not impressed! 

The parable of the workers in the field definitely challenges our sensibilities about fairness, as people who worked one hour get paid the same as those who worked 12. But notice, Jesus doesn’t introduce the parable with, “This is how to run a business.” He says, “The kingdom of God is like this.” 

In both stories we will see what it looks like, as Paul writes in Philippians, to “live a life worthy of the gospel” – and it might not look like our gut thinks it should! As you listen, notice how these stories make you feel – are they offensive to you? Do they make you feel a sense of justice, or frustration? Imagine yourself in the position of Jonah, of the 12-hour workers, and also, of the 1-hour workers. How do you experience the story in their shoes? Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

I have a love-hate relationship with today’s parable, about the workers in the vineyard. I love it because it is so rich, and where some of Jesus’ stories are a bit cryptic, this one is so easy to resonate with – which is why I also hate it! It is infuriating, and offensive! We are offended for the same reason that the early workers are offended: the landowner’s business practice rubs against our early-formed and deeply-held assumptions about fairness and justice. When we perceive something is unfair, we are quick to judge it so.

But it occurred to me this week, that while we are quick to fall back on our assumptions about fairness, we might not even realize we are doing it, might not recognize the assumptions we are bringing to the story. So today, I wanted to go through some of the ones that I realize I make when I read this story, and see if we might approach them instead with curiosity.

First assumption: I assume that the workers who came later in the day were lazy. They slept in, or they’ve been standing around gossiping all day, or they don’t have that go-getter attitude we Americans value so much. They should have been there earlier – what were they doing, after all? Once we’ve identified their fault, it is easy to judge them: they are lazy and thus undeserving of this gift. They are literally worth less than those who worked all day. 

So. Let’s confront this assumption with some curiosity: Why were those people late? Maybe they had been looking for work all day and had been passed over because they were too small, too old, too sick, too dark, too light. Maybe they went from farm to farm, seeking work, but no one would hire them. Maybe they had children at home to care for, or sick relatives, or a leaky roof, or no bus-line near their home, or chronic fatigue syndrome, or severe depression. There could be any number of reasons they were standing “idle,” as the text says (though even this word carries some judgment doesn’t it? In the Greek it simply means “without work”). 

But going a little deeper into breaking down the assumption… maybe the real question is not, “why were they late?” but, “Why does it matter why they weren’t there?” Would it make the story feel less offensive to us if we knew what a hard life these 11th hour workers had, how disparaged, and marginalized they were? If there’s a really good reason for their not looking for work earlier, does that make the story feel okay for us?

We just started a year-long focus on housing justice. Next week we’ll have a chance to learn about some of the causes, but here’s a fact to get you started: do you know the number one reason people are homeless in Rochester? It’s because they don’t have a home. Before we can get into any of the reasons or causes, we must start with the reality as it stands: they do not have a home. Just like the workers: what’s the reason they give for not being employed? “No one has employed us.” No judgment, just a fact about their reality. So, let’s take it from there.

Assumption #2: The landowner is a bad businessman. Well, I think we can all agree that this is likely true! Who would run a business like this? You can be sure, once word gets around, that people will be flocking to his vineyard to begin work at 5pm, work one hour, and get paid for twelve. He’ll run his business right into the ground with this way of operating!

And yet… the parable doesn’t begin, “This is the way to run a business.” It begins, “The kingdom of God is like this.” And in the kingdom of God, it isn’t about the landowner’s success. It’s not about the landowner’s need for workers – notice Jesus doesn’t say “he needed more workers” so he went out again. It says he went out, and he saw the unemployed workers. He may well have had no need at all for workers, yet he kept finding people in need of work, and so he gave them work. While this business approach would not thrive in a capitalist economy, God’s kingdom is not a capitalist economy! In God’s kingdom, faithful living is motivated by the needs of the less powerful. In God’s kingdom, God’s economy, the powerful – here, the landowner – go out in search of those in need, listen to what those needs are, and satisfy them, even over and above their own needs. Of course, we understand that in this parable the landowner is an analogy for God, who we know will always seek us out and provide for our needs. But it’s not such a bad thing to keep in mind when we find ourselves to be in the more powerful position as well: seek out the needs of the less powerful, and listen to them.

Third assumption, and this is a doozie: We assume that life should be fair. Or that we can make it fair. Oh, we know in our heads that this will never be the case, yet we still long in our hearts that it would be.

But this parable challenges not only that life could be fair, but whether fair should even the goal. You see, the landowner never claims to pay anyone what is “fair.” The first workers agree to the usual daily wage (which they get). The second wave of workers, he says he will pay them what is “right.” Not what is fair. And in this case, the landowner determines, what is right is what is compassionate and generous – not what is fair. Turns out, sometimes fairness isn’t the highest good.

This is an important reality check for followers of Christ, because my friends, I have to break something to you: grace – this wonderful gift of God that we all enjoy, around which we base our whole belief system – grace is, by definition, not fair. It is a gift that we do not deserve, and did nothing to earn. And yet God, through Christ, gives it to us anyway. 

As I was working with Zach and Lena to prepare for their confirmation today, I said, “If there is one thing I want you to leave these years of confirmation knowing it is this: God loves you. God loves you. And there is nothing, nothing you can do or not do that will ever change that.” In a world in which someone is always judging us as having less value than someone else (and sometimes, we are the ones placing that judgment on ourselves), how important this is to remember: you are worth everything to God, you are beloved by God, no matter what.

That was the promise God made to Zach and to Lena at this very font, when they were baptized. And in a moment, they will stand before you and affirm that they want to continue living in that promise, and all that it implies for our lives. I hope that as they do, you, also, will remember that you stand in your own baptismal promises, that you, too, will never be out of the circle of God’s love. 

After they are confirmed, we will all come to this table as we do each week. We will stand with hands outstretched, like workers being paid at the end of the day, waiting for our daily bread. And into each waiting hand will be placed the same size morsel of bread, the same swallow of wine. Each of us will receive our daily bread, whether this week you invited three new people to go to church, or you finally let that jerk at the office have what was coming to him, or you yelled at your kids, or you gave a huge gift to charity, or you managed to keep your mouth shut when you knew saying something would only make things worse, or you fell off the wagon – again – and have to start at square one in your recovery. No matter what you did or didn’t do this week, you will come before God and receive from Him what is right: enough grace to hold and sustain you – today and every day.

Let us pray… Recklessly gracious God, we long for life to be fair; and you give instead what is right and gracious, even when we do not deserve it and did not earn it. Help us to challenge our assumptions about other people, that we would err on the side of compassion and generosity. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Full service can be viewed HERE.

Sermon: Practicing mercy (9.17.23)

Pentecost 16A
September 17, 2023
Matthew 18:21-35

INTRODUCTION

In last week’s readings, we dealt with how to hold one another accountable in a faithful community, dealing with the inevitable situation in which one person wrongs another. Today’s Gospel reading is right on the tails of that conversation. Peter, wondering just how far to push this, asks, “Ok, but how many times do we have to do this? How many times should we forgive? As many as seven?” And Jesus will open up the depth of God’s forgiveness, with his famous formula: “not seven, but seventy-seven times.” In other words: don’t ever stop.

This depth of forgiveness is nothing new to people of faith. Our first reading shows this. Today we hear the stunning ending of the Joseph saga. You know this story – Joseph’s brothers, the sons of Jacob, are jealous of him and his technicolored coat, and they sell him off into slavery and pretend he is dead. He has a rough go of it in Egypt, but eventually ends up Pharaoh’s second-in-command, having saved Egypt and surrounding areas from a seven-year famine. Now his brothers have come crawling to him for help, not knowing it is Joseph – until he reveals himself. Assuming there is no way Joseph will ever forgive them (and really, would you?), they try one more time to fool him, but Joseph won’t have it. Instead, he forgives them, telling them that what they intended for evil, God used for good. Would that we could all forgive like Joseph!

We have all been in a situation of either needing to ask or offer forgiveness. Neither position is an easy one. As you listen today, think about your own experiences with forgiveness, and consider what light today’s lessons might shed on the situation. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

If last week’s address of conflict management was difficult, today we go even deeper: into the questions around forgiveness. When we did our Lenten series on tough questions last spring, the week we looked at forgiveness was one of the best attended. As I was preparing it, I realized I had more questions than answers about forgiveness, so I just started jotting them down. For example:

• Are there times when offering forgiveness is too dangerous?

• Is it possible to forgive if the offender hasn’t shown regret?

• Does forgiving send the message that what was done was acceptable?

• Does forgiving someone mean I have to relinquish my position of power?

• Does forgiveness have to include reconciliation and restoration of the relationship?

• Perhaps most painful of all: will forgiving open me up to being hurt once again?

Most of my questions, you can see, are about the difficulty of offering forgiveness, rather than receiving it. As we can see from the parable Jesus tells, offering forgiveness does seem to be the trickier bit. Let’s look at the different parts of this story, and dig in bit by bit.

First, Peter’s question that starts the conversation. Actually, it doesn’t start the conversation: Jesus has already been talking about how to deal with conflict in the Church community. That’s what we heard last week, remember? When someone wrongs you, talk to them about it. If they won’t listen, include a neutral third party. If they still won’t listen, bring it to the church. All of that is a lot of emotional work! So Peter wants to know, just how many times are we expected to go through all this trouble? To his credit, he actually overshoots. The Jewish teaching was and is that you should apologize to someone you’ve hurt three times. That’s a lot! And, Peter is more than doubling that! But Jesus blows it out of the water again (typical Jesus!). “Not seven,” he says, “but seventy-seven times,” or in some translations, “seventy times seven.” The point here is not the number. The point is: “there is no stopping point. Forgive indefinitely.” After all, is there a point at which you think God should stop forgiving you? “Well, the first 490 times was fine, but now it’s been 491, so….” Of course not. We want infinite forgiveness, and so that, Jesus says, is what you, as children of God, should extend. 

Then he goes on to explain, using this bombshell of a parable. Now, the first scene of this parable I like, quite a lot! A worker is called to the king, who has noticed this guy owes 10,000 talents. In modern money, this amounts to nearly three and a half billion dollars! It is intentionally hyperbolic. He might as well have said, “He owed a million gazillion dollars!” The point is, he owed more than anyone could ever hope to repay, an incalculable amount, a debt beyond measure. Rather than being sold off with his family and possessions, the worker begs for mercy, more time to repay the debt he could never repay. And out of pity, the king forgives him this astronomical amount, just wipes the slate clean. 

Wow! Wouldn’t that be a nice, feel-good parable if it ended right there? But no, Jesus won’t let us off so easy. This man, who has every reason to be grateful and gracious in proportion to the mercy he has received, who can now literally afford to be generous, heads right off to find a guy who owes him 100 denarii. In modern money, this is like, a few hundred bucks. Not a small amount, but an amount that could reasonably be paid back in a few months’ time. When the guy asks for mercy (just like the first worker had done, even in the same words!), there is none to be had. The first worker throws the second worker in prison until he can repay. We, the listener, are rightly outraged. What a jerk!

Well, the other workers thought so, too. Off they go to tell the king, who calls the first worker back, reinstates the debt, and vows to torture him until he can repay – which, as we know, will be never. So, this greedy ingrate will be tortured for eternity. Then, if you weren’t already feeling warm fuzzies about how this ends, Jesus hits it home: “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” The good news, friends! Whew! 

It would be easy, especially with that last line, to take this parable as prescriptive: if you do this, then that will happen, so, watch out! But parables are seldom so straightforward. Rather, parables are like a room you enter, and take a look around. They are descriptive of a reality. Jesus prefaces this parable by saying, “The kingdom of heaven can be compared” to this: a world in which there is mercy enough to erase incalculable debt. And, when people have received this immense gift, they are inspired and empowered to be merciful toward their neighbors. This is the image of God we can see here, and we are bearers of this image. We receive forgiveness of debts, as we forgive our debtors. (Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.) This is what God envisions for the world. 

And yet too often, we reject that vision. We withhold the forgiveness we have received in abundance. We are greedy. We choose pride over relationship. And when we do that? Not only does it grieve God, but it is torture to us. It eats away at us, at our hearts. It burdens us, traps us, chaining us forever to the very source of our pain, and we cannot find the abundant life we all crave. I knew an old woman once who told me something her estranged son had done many years before, and she said flatly, “And I will never forgive him for that.” And all I could think was, “What a sad life to live” – a life that knows not the joy of releasing the chain that binds you to pain. This woman would give up her relationships with her own son in order to cling to her poison. 

That is not what God wants for us. God wants us to inhabit a world in which grace and mercy (both divine and human) are plentiful. But living into a world of such grace and mercy is not so easy for humans. We need lots of practice to be forgiving. We may even need to forgive the same thing 77 times – innumerable times!  We need to work at making forgiveness a regular practice, until it does come more naturally to us, until it becomes a quality of mind and heart, a way of life – not just something we do, but who we are: we are givers and receivers of mercy. We are children of God, living by God’s grace.

It is possible. Humans are creatures of habit. We brush our teeth at night, even though we are dead tired, and wash our hands after using the restroom, even if we’re in a hurry. We established these habits early on, through repetition, and they are powerful. The habit of mercy can be so powerful, too. It’s a matter of practicing mercy 77 times (and more), practicing it every chance we get. Perhaps we practice first on insignificant things and then working up to bigger ones, but we keep on practicing – until we truly are bearers of the image of our gracious and merciful God.

Let us pray… God of mercy, even though we are receivers of your immeasurable grace, we struggle at times to extend that grace and mercy to others. Soften our hearts, and help us forgive as we have been forgiven – 70 times 7 times and beyond. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Full service HERE.

Sermon: Managing conflict in community (Sept. 10, 2023)

Pentecost 15A
September 10, 2023
Matthew 18:15-20

INTRODUCTION

Here’s a fun fact about Matthew’s Gospel: his is the only Gospel that talks about the formation of the Church, and Jesus’ passing his authority to the disciples. Remember a couple weeks ago, Jesus told Peter, “On this rock I will build my church?” Matthew is the only one who includes that bit. And today we get another example of this interest in the Church, as Jesus shares an important teaching about managing conflict in the Church (everyone’s favorite topic to avoid!). Seldom do we get such straightforward instructions from Jesus, and yet, when the opportunities come to follow Jesus’ sage advice on conflict management, we often do not take them.

Our readings today are all about how we conduct ourselves in the face of conflict and wrong-doing. I’m certain there is something in here for everyone today, so listen carefully to what the Spirit is saying to you this day. Let’s listen. 

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

One of the best things about having siblings is that you get to learn from a very early age the art of conflict management. When my kids were ages 1 and 2, it usually involved Grace swatting at her brother and saying, “No, Isaac!” when he was doing something she didn’t like. That’s 2-year-old conflict management. Once they were 3 and 4, and both had developed a sense of personal agency and justice, conflict management turned into a blaming game: “He bit me!” “Well, she pushed me!” “Well, he wouldn’t let me play with that toy!” Even when I would then enter with my motherly wisdom and suggest maybe everyone had a part to play in the conflict, and we could all stand to apologize for something… it quickly reverted back to a game of chicken and egg blaming, seeking to figure out who had offended first and worst. That is preschool conflict management. 

Surely by the time we get to be adults, we are better at this, right? And definitely we in the church, in a place that gathers around the promise of love and forgiveness – we have found a way to be in a community without conflict, right? 

Ah, not so. Anyone who has been around the church – or any community, really – knows that conflict is very much a part of being in any community. For all of the gifts that community and relationship have to offer us, it is very hard work, and no one is immune to conflict: not couples who are madly in love, not best friends, not extended families, and no, not even the church. We may not swat at each other and say, “No!” but we still lash out at each other, and often in more painful ways. We may not hit and bite and cry for a mommy-intervention, but we do triangulate and gossip, and we attack with our words, intending to wound, and we point fingers rather than noticing our own part in the brokenness. Or sometimes, like I know I am often guilty of, we just shove away our hurt feelings, until finally one small thing sets us off, and we can’t take it anymore and start screaming. 

Conflict management may change form as we grow in years and maturity, but it is always difficult.

That is why Jesus offers us this bit of instruction on how to manage the conflicts that arise within the beloved community of the church. The first thing to notice here, is that Jesus felt the need to say this at all. Because Jesus knows, being a part of a church community does not immunize us from conflict. When we gather in community, it is not a matter of if, but when challenges arise. What makes a congregation healthy is not whether there is conflict, but rather, how it is handled when there is. 

Jesus’ first instruction is pretty simple: tell the person about it, right to their face. If someone wrongs you, “sins against you,” he says, tell them. In other words, don’t tell someone else about it. Don’t start the gossip chain. Don’t unload your anxiety about a situation onto someone who doesn’t need to be involved: go right to the source. And don’t do it passive aggressively, either – or active aggressively for that matter! Be direct, but be kind, be humble – and be willing to recognize your own role in the brokenness. Interpersonal conflict is seldom one-sided. Don’t assume you already know the whole story – be willing to listen to the other person, and their particular pain, too (which may or may not have anything to do with you!). Usually difficult behavior comes out of some sort of brokenness that the offender is experiencing. I heard a cute way to say this: don’t confront them, but “care-front” them. Bring sandwiches, and speak to each other with care and compassion. This is the stuff of relationship building. It is confronting someone who has wronged you with the understanding that both parties are captive to sin and cannot free themselves, and both need daily forgiveness. If you are able to hear each other and recognize your shared humanity, your mutual pain, Jesus says, you will have regained that relationship.

Sometimes, though, even a good sandwich and all the best hopes and intentions in the world don’t result in a good conversation. So Jesus offers another suggestion: bring in a neutral third party. If misunderstanding and inadequate communication is still a problem, ask someone to help you understand each other. This is the role of community, is it not? To care for one another, to help each be our best selves, to hold each other accountable. Again, helping others to communicate with one another lovingly, seeking to understand each other’s mutual brokenness, is hard work – how much easier it would be just to take sides! – but it is the work that the Church is called to do.

Yet even this does not always work. Jesus’ next suggestion really ups the ante: if you’re still struggling, bring it to the whole church. Let everyone who has pledged to follow Jesus listen with care to those involved, surrounding them in love and compassion, even while striving to hold everyone accountable. 

And sometimes, even this won’t work. Jesus’ next words sound at first very harsh: “if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let that one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” Our first thought is: hold on, Jesus, let that one be like the enemy? Like these despised members of society? Does he mean we should kick them out of the community? But that doesn’t sound like Jesus!

Ah, and you see, that’s the key. That doesn’t sound like Jesus. Because how does Jesus treat tax collectors? He welcomes them and eats with them! Matthew himself, the author of this gospel, was a tax collector! How does Jesus treat Gentiles? He heals them and loves them and welcomes them! Remember the story we heard a couple weeks ago about the Canaanite woman who wanted a few crumbs from the table, and wanted her daughter to be healed? Jesus said her faith was great, and he healed her daughter! When Jesus invites us to treat someone with whom we are struggling to be in relationship, like a tax collector or a Gentile, he is inviting us to treat these outsiders like he does: with the same love and compassion as you would anyone else in the community. In fact, perhaps even with more, because Jesus is always one to reach beyond boundaries – geographical, religious, and emotional – to the one who is vulnerable and in need. That doesn’t mean you should stay in a close relationship with someone who has hurt you. But it does mean that we are called to continue to love them with the love of Jesus, and view them as flawed but still beautiful and beloved children of God.

In this way, Jesus’ advice to the Church in today’s reading is not meant to be a legalistic formula for dealing with church conflict. Really, his advice is simpler than that: love one another. Love one another with all that you have, and try everything you can to be in loving relationship with one another. Reach out. Listen. Surround the person with loving community. When you’ve tried everything, still never stop loving them with the love of Christ.

That’s a pretty tall order. It is only possible because of this last line in our text today: “Where two or three are gathered in my name,” Jesus says, “I am there among you.” We’ve heard this line so many times before, but seeing it here, in its context, makes all the difference. Jesus makes this promise right on the tails of talking about the challenges and requirements of living in Christian community – he makes it because he knows how difficult community can be. Rewarding, yes, and life-giving, and healing… but also a whole lot of work, and very trying at times. And so he promises: I am with you in that important work. When you strive for love, strive for relationship, strive for compassion and building up and growth – I am with you. When your humanity and brokenness rub each other the wrong way – I am with you. When you are challenged and discouraged by each other – I am with you. Whenever you are together in my name – I am with you. And I will not leave you alone.

This strikes me as especially important at this time, as the kids head back to school, and the program year starts up, and all of the fall activities that are a lot of fun, but have the potential to suck us dry and make us feel stressed and strung out. For all the gifts of all these things starting up again, when we are stressed and over-worked, we are all that much more susceptible to snapping at each other. As we interact with more people, meet new people, find ourselves in new communities… these words from Jesus are even more important to remember: not only to do everything in our power to build loving, healing relationships with one another, and to reach out especially to those marginalized and vulnerable, but to remember that in all we do together in Jesus’ name, we do it also with Jesus’ presence, and with the promise of his own self-giving love, his grace, and his joy. 

Let us pray… God of community, you call us into loving, compassionate relationships with one another. Give us the wisdom to build these relationships, to nurture them and help them grow. And when we struggle, remind us that you are there with us, loving us and forgiving us, as we continue to strive to live your loving way in the world. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Full service can be viewed HERE.

Sermon: Get behind Jesus (Sept 3, 2023)

Pentecost 14A
September 2, 2023
Matthew 16:21-28
Romans 12:9-12

INTRODUCTION

Last week we witnessed one of Peter’s shining moments, as he correctly identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. Jesus in turn says he will build his Church upon this rock. The shine didn’t last long, though. Today, Peter will turn from Rock to stumbling block, as he rebukes Jesus for saying that the Son of Man will have to suffer and die. And wouldn’t you? Who wants a suffering savior – wouldn’t we rather have a powerful one? 

Of course, we know that Jesus is right on this one: suffering, and self-denial, and sacrifice are all a part of the life of faith. Even all the nice “marks of a Christian” that Paul will outline in our second reading require some sacrifice and self-denial at times. Turns out, Christianity isn’t about serving ourselves and doing what is best for us, but about doing whatever it takes to live out the gospel of Jesus Christ, to take up our cross and self-sacrificially love our neighbor. Our readings today address this head on. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

This summer, my family has been plowing through the Harry Potter series. I think that since this spring, we have read aloud books 5, 6 and 7, and these are each nearly 1000-page books! Now that we have gotten through everything, the kids are re-watching some of the movies (skipping through the scary parts as needed!). This week we watched The Goblet of Fire. Without giving any spoilers, this segment is the midpoint in the series, where things turn considerably darker as the good side must face the reality of the evil side increasing in power. At the end, Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school and sage of the story, says to Harry, “Soon we must all face the choice between doing what is right, and what is easy.”

I wondered if Dumbledore might have read this week’s lectionary texts, because this resonates well with all of them! In his letter to the Romans, Paul lays out the “marks of a true Christian” – let love be genuine, seek to overcome evil with good, bless those who persecute you, be patient in suffering, don’t pretend to be wiser than you are… None of it is easy stuff. But it is right! This bit from Romans is often read at weddings, because it is good advice for marriage, but the truth is that it is good advice for all of us as we deal with a variety of people and views, some of which we might find downright appalling and harmful. How easy it would be just to fall to the level of our opponent, to “repay evil for evil,” as Paul says, rather than “taking thought for what is noble in the sight of all.” In fact, this whole passage of Paul’s could be summed up with Dumbledore’s observation, that we “face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” And the Christian way is to choose what is right, not necessarily what is easy.

I think that is, in part, what Jesus means when he says to “take up your cross” and “deny yourself” and “lose your life.” Humans are, by nature, inclined toward self-preservation. This is true physically, but also emotionally. We try to avoid emotional harm or loss by clinging to our usual ways and views and beliefs, even when confronted with evidence to the contrary, because having to admit that we were wrong about something feels like a sort of death, and we’d rather avoid it. Admitting we are wrong can feel like betrayal or, dare I say, denial of ourselves – admitting that something we had held so dear, something we had really believed and fought for… may not have been right after all. Yet it seems easier to hold on to the past than to do what is right going forward.

I get that, that desire to hold onto my expectations and hopes, even when they are misinformed, or when a more enlightened path becomes clear. So, I really resonate with Peter in this story, who is famously confronted by Jesus regarding his misinformed view of what to expect from a Messiah. Remember last week, when Peter was the shining star? When Jesus asked the disciples who they say he is, Peter answered with divinely inspired wisdom, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Ah, Jesus was so pleased with his answer, that he vowed to build his Church upon this rock. He gave Peter the keys to the kingdom, the power to loose and to bind in heaven. What a moment for Peter! 

And now here, in the very next exchange… Jesus has begun to expand upon what it means that he is the Messiah, and Peter is feeling pretty uneasy about it. You see it was the Jewish belief that when God sent the Messiah, the anointed one, it would be one who came as a victorious ruler, someone to cast out the oppressors, and rule over a united Israel once again, like King David had done. This was the hope to which they had held fast for hundreds of years. And so when Peter declares Jesus to be the Messiah, this is quite a bold statement, saying that they believed this enduring hope to have come finally in Jesus, who would overthrow the enemy and reign over Israel. So imagine Peter’s disappointment and concern, even indignation, when Jesus says that for him, “Messiah” means what seems to be exactly the opposite: that he will suffer and die. And not just death, but death on a cross, the most humiliating sort of death. That’s no messiah! 

Just consider a moment what might be going through Peter’s head here. For one thing, he’s worried about success of the cause. If Jesus is trying to get followers, to spread the word, then this is no way to do it. No one is going to want to follow someone who is admitting they are going to lose, who is going to die a painful and humiliating death. Even if that does have to happen, Peter is right that this branding will not sell anyone on joining Jesus, and so from a marketing standpoint, Jesus should probably keep that part quiet. 

Second, Peter is worried about everyone’s safety. He wants Jesus to succeed – he wants all of them to succeed! And so talking about heading off to suffering and death, well, I can see why he wants Jesus not only to stop talking about it, but to abandon that part of the plan altogether! This is no way to be a Messiah – not in Peter’s book, anyway! 

But of course, Jesus isn’t playing by Peter’s book. He isn’t playing according to the ways of humans, but by God’s own playbook. “You are setting your mind not on divine things,” he tells Peter, “but on human things.” He points out that Peter is operating based on the longings and inclinations of humans, which is to do everything in their power to avoid death, avoid loss, avoid embarrassment, avoid all the uncomfortable feelings and experiences that try to chip away at our joy, our life, our contentment. 

But God operates by a different principle: that the only way truly to have joy, contentment, to have life itself, is to deny yourself (your expectations, your outdated dreams), to face suffering head on, and even to die – physically, in Jesus’ case (and sometimes in ours), but at least metaphorically, to face the loss that is an inevitable part of human existence. 

And so Jesus turns to Peter to tell him so. This has traditionally been read as a fiery rebuke of Peter, and maybe it was. But this week, as I imagine Peter’s broken heart hearing these words, I’m reading it in a gentler tone, as an invitation instead of a rebuke. I learned this week that the words translated here as “get behind me” are the same words used in Matthew 4 when Jesus calls the disciples: “follow me…. Get behind me.” And the word translated here as “Satan” is not necessarily an insult; it means “adversary,” one working against, harming an effort. So what if Jesus’ words to Peter are more like this: “Peter, dude, I need you to get behind me on what I’m trying to do here. Follow me. I know this is hard to hear. I know death is hard for all humans, and we will do just about anything to avoid it! Believe me, I’m not happy about it, either. But those are human ways. I’m working with God’s ways here. I know your intentions are good, but you are trying to keep me from doing what I must do, and your efforts are a stumbling block to the plan.  They are adverse to God’s plan. In God’s ways, death is a necessary step toward getting to true life. We must go through death and loss and even humiliation, all in order to get to the new life that is promised on the other side.”

I dunno, maybe that reading is way off. But even if the tone isn’t right, the point is that Jesus is telling Peter like it is, saying what needs to be said. What needs to be said is not easy to hear, and he knows it. My guess is that it likely isn’t too easy to say, either! And Jesus also knows that sometimes the only way we can hear things is when they smack us over the head, offered in the starkest, most straightforward terms. (I know this, because Jesus has had to say things to me in this manner before I finally catch on!) 

So we would be wise to learn from Peter’s interaction here with Jesus: that we must choose between what is easy, and what is right, and faithful. And the right, faithful thing, as Jesus says, is to put aside our inclination toward personal safety over love of neighbor. We must not be lured by the temptation to keep the status quo over seeking transformation. We must deny the desire to keep the old, rather than living into the newness of life that God wants for us. 

And so let us get behind Jesus. Let us follow him – to the cross, to inevitable loss and grief, to the way of self-sacrificial love, and to the promise of life and transformation on the other side. 

Let us pray… Jesus, Messiah, Son of the living God, we are often faced with deciding between what is easy and what is right. Help us always to choose the right path, the path that leads to the life you promise. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Full service can be viewed: HERE.