Wise Investment

Sermon manuscript for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists for Sabbath, September 16, 2017.

Two Stories:

The first is a classic tale of almost but not quite, of could of, should of, of a free choice that was immediately and always regretted.

A man came to Jesus and asked, "Teacher, what good deed do I have do to have eternal life?" 17 "Why ask me about what is good?" Jesus replied. "There is only One who is good. But to answer your question--if you want to receive eternal life, keep the commandments." 18 "Which ones?" the man asked. And Jesus replied: "'You must not murder. You must not commit adultery. You must not steal. You must not testify falsely. 19 Honor your father and mother. Love your neighbor as yourself.'" 20 "I've obeyed all these commandments," the young man replied. "What else must I do?" 21 Jesus told him, "If you want to be perfect, go and sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." 22 But when the young man heard this, he went away sad, for he had many possessions.

If we're going to “get” this story, it's important to feel the weight of the young man's angst. He did not walk away laughing. He wanted what Jesus offered. He wanted it badly. He could almost taste the excitement, the drama, the deep satisfaction ahead on the path Jesus mapped out.

Unfortunately, he already owned a great treasure—money. He was rich. Usually, I think of wealth as an advantage. Money is helpful. Your plumbing springs a leak. Money will bring a plumber to your house, and the leak will go away. When I'm hungry, just a little bit of money can obtain a blueberry milk shake. If I'm sick, money will obtain the services of a doctor. Money is a very helpful thing. And more money is even more helpful.

Except when I have to choose between hanging onto my money and some grand adventure, some great and noble cause. When I have to choose between my money and something else I really, really want, then the more money I have the more difficult the choice.

Jesus offered this man the chance of a life time, a wild, holy adventure. But to buy into the adventure he would have to give away all his money. The man wanted the life with Jesus. He wanted the wild, holy adventure, but he couldn't bring himself to pay the price. What he had was too good. He couldn't let it go. So he went away sad and conflicted, still feeling the allure of the Jesus adventure but choosing to hang onto the good stuff he had.

The Gospel of Matthew tells another story, and tells it multiple times.

From then on Jesus began to tell his disciples plainly that it was necessary for him to go to Jerusalem, and that he would suffer many terrible things at the hands of the elders, the leading priests, and the teachers of religious law. He would be killed, but on the third day he would be raised from the dead. 22 But Peter took him aside and began to reprimand him for saying such things. "Heaven forbid, Lord," he said. "This will never happen to you!" 23 Jesus turned to Peter and said, "Get away from me, Satan! You are a dangerous trap to me. You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God's." Matthew 16:21-23 NLT

Jesus told his disciples he was going to pay the ultimate price as part of his participation in the mission of God. Peter understood the implications of Jesus' words and began to remonstrate. “Don't talk like that. That can never be! You are too good for that.”

Jesus immediately pushed back. “Peter, you sound like Satan talking. I'm going pay the ultimate price. And I'm okay with that. I have no interest in “saving my life” from some meager, uninteresting future. I see clearly mission. And I'm good with it.

The young man saw the high price of the wild, holy adventure and finally decided it was too high a price, a decisions that he immediately and forever regretted.

Jesus saw the high price of the wild, holy adventure and boldly announced his embrace of the cost. Bring it on. Jesus was ready to pay with his life for the privilege of participating in the mission of God. Sure, there was the moment of indecision in the Gethsemane. This was no easy choice. But he did it and triumphed.

Because we are Christians, we see this bold embrace of suffering in pursuit of the goal of salvation as an expression of the character of God. While people in our culture sometimes have a great difficulty making sense of the Bible's telling of the story of God, this much is clear: God spent the richest treasure of heaven in pursuit of the salvation of humanity. We can appropriately say that God would rather die than live without us. He spent everything he had to buy us.

And he is satisfied. God has no second thoughts about his investment.

The young man who came to Jesus counted the cost and decided he couldn't pay. God counted the cost of saving humanity and said, yes, I'll do it. That's how much God treasures humanity.

Who are we? The objects of divine desire and yearning. And pleasure and happiness.

As we become engrossed in this vision we make our own investments. We provide care:

Health care professionals do their thing.

Business people build financial systems that enable people to benefit from their labor. Seattle has billionaires, but the people who make our milk shakes at Kidd Valley Burgers cannot afford to live here. Altering this in the direction of equity is complicated and very difficult. We need brilliant business people with heart to figure it out and make our city a better place to live.

Social workers and counselors and psychiatrists provide the specialized, extra help that some people need just to stay alive. These people with special needs cannot take care of themselves. Still they are humans. They are part of our family. We count on specialists who have the skills to help these complicated humans to live the best they can given their limitations and disabilities.

Firefighters. Right now the Norse Peak Fire is still burning out of control in the dense forests thirty miles from our house. We honor the people who work to limit the raging fires all over the West.

We rely on engineers to create and maintain all the apparatus of modern life. Phones. Bridges. Tunnels. Cars.

The wheat harvest. I read an article this week in the Seattle Times about the wheat harvest happening on the other side of the state. Those farmers are feeding the world. But it's more than farmers. Feeding the world takes a thousand skills from farmers to machine creators and manufacturers and dealers to rail companies and shipping companies. All are partners with God in investing in human well being.

Some of our members are working at the Gates Foundation, working to change the world, to make it better. To cure or limit malaria and other strange and scary diseases. To increase access to healthy food and clean water.

Families care for each other, especially for family members with special needs. This is so many of us. In every family there are people who need a bit of extra care.

Writers who have caught the vision of Jesus, the satisfaction of God in saving humanity, use words to make the world better.

All these are ways we can join with God in his investment in humanity. The story of the rich man highlights the question: will we choose the richest, sweetest life or will we hang onto to something of lesser value because it seems to offer security? The question is will we? Not can we. Not are we able. But, will we?

One of the marks of a wise decision is that after we have made the decision we are still glad. That afternoon. The next week. The next year or decade. Wise choices leave us feeling glad over the long haul.

The rich man who sought Jesus' advice made a choice and then regretted it.

God, the ultimate rich person, made a choice to spend wildly to save humanity. And God is deeply satisfied with this choice.

Let's choose joy and satisfaction. Let's be about our father's business.  

Where Is God?

Sermon manuscript for September 9, 2017 (The original title of this sermon was Ascending Liability. But the sermon morphed from my original conception, so I've changed the title here to reflect the actual content.)

For Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists

Texts: Isaiah 45:1-7, 1 John 2:1-2

It's been a rough week.

First there was Hurricane Harvey and the flooding of Houston and other communities in coastal Texas. I have a friend who lives in Houston who gave periodic updates on the rising flood waters until eventually he had six inches of water inside his house.

Here in Seattle we have had murky skies and ash falling on our cars and even sifting through the screens on our windows. Reminders of the wildfires that are raging all across the countryside just over the mountains to the east.

Again, a friend brought home the reality of this fiery devastation. She lives in Montana and posts pictures and facts from the fires there. Over a million acres has burned so far this year.

Meanwhile

Thursday night a magnitude 8 earthquake hit Oaxaca, Mexico. At least 65 people are reported dead from the quake.

A third of the entire nation of Bangladesh was under water and over a thousand people died in floods in India.

A rough week.

Where is God in all this?

Many of my friends are quick to exclude God from all this stuff. Hurricanes happen. We can explain them using what we know of interactions of pressure systems and temperature regimes in the ocean. Earthquakes happen. Especially along subduction zones like the one that runs down the west coast of Mexico. Leave God out of this, they say. God does not cause hurricanes and earthquakes. They argue this way out of a concern to defend the reputation of God. But the Bible does not exclude God. God sends storms and earthquakes, fire and hail.

Even when we dismiss this active language and insist that what the Bible really means is that God allows storms and earthquakes and fire and hail, we come back to the other words, the words that give us hope:

The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them. 8 O taste and see that the LORD [is] good: blessed [is] the man [that] trusteth in him. 9 O fear the LORD, ye his saints: for [there is] no want to them that fear him. 10 The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the LORD shall not want any good [thing]. ... 15 The eyes of the LORD [are] upon the righteous, and his ears [are open] unto their cry. 16 The face of the LORD [is] against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth. 17 [The righteous] cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles. 18 The LORD [is] nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. 19 Many [are] the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all. 20 He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken. 21 Evil shall slay the wicked: and they that hate the righteous shall be desolate. 22 The LORD redeemeth the soul of his servants: and none of them that trust in him shall be desolate. Psa 34:7-10, 15-22 KJV

Sitting in my dry house untouched by the raging fires except by the smoke and bits of ash it is easy to say, “Those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.” But what about my friend in Montana watching her entire state go up in flames? What about my friend in Texas starting the clean up process in his flooded house? What about the relatives of others in this congregation whose lives have been disrupted by the earthquake in Mexico? What about the millions of people—nameless to me—whose homes have been invaded by the floods in India and Bengladesh? They lack no good thing?

These words make no more sense as literal language than do the words about God sending storms and earthquakes, fire and hail. They make far more sense as a declaration of the ultimate purpose of God. It is God's desire that his children lack no good thing. But the actual, lived experience here in this world is far more complicated.

So I come back to the words of Jesus:

God sends his rain on the just and the unjust. He makes his sun rise on the evil and the good. You be like that.

The ancient prophets argued that nature favored good people. Bad things happened to bad people. Good times came to those who were good. There is some truth in this, of course. Living wisely and righteously usually produces better results than living foolishly and wickedly. But nature is a hopelessly blind judge. Floods and earthquakes, fire and hail—they happen to all sorts of people.

It is also true that nature blesses people indiscriminately. The glory of sunrise, the blessings of harvest, the beauty of moonlight, the pleasures of health and strength come to all humanity. We, as believers, affirm that it is these sweet things which express the purpose of God.

Nature is recklessly indiscriminate both in its loveliness and in its horror. Both in its bounty and in its storms. Jesus challenged us to see God's benevolent intentions in the blessings of nature and then to mirror the generosity of God.

Sometimes, we are most immediately aware of Jesus' call when we are confronted with the kinds of so-called “acts of God” that have surrounded us this past week.

The first pictures coming out of Texas were visions of devastation. Roads under water. Cars immersed to their roof tops. Then came the pictures of the human response. People helping people.

In southern California, first there were the photos of raging fire, then news of convicts fighting fires, earning a dollar an hour. Men who in other situations had acted like the devil showed in this emergency, the genuine goodness still living in their hearts and hands.

In Mexico and Bangladesh humans banded together to carry out the will of God—survival, rescue, sustenance.

Where is God in the earthquakes, fires, hurricanes, and other suffering that haunts our world? God is present in those who rescue and help and heal. And God is present in those who devote themselves to work of prevention. Much of the suffering of the past week was theoretically avoidable. We know where flood zones are and could require developers to build on higher ground. We know how to build houses that will not collapse in earthquakes.

If God intends salvation, if God favors life, then it is the essence of faith to join with God in the present work of rescue and fire suppression. And we can work with God in building communities that are more resilient and more protective. We can be the angels of God, working for salvation and hope.

Let us be about our Father's business.  

Work Forward

A better title might be: the vineyard waits.

Sermon manuscript for September 2, 2017

Texts:

Jeremiah 7:1-7 and Matthew 21:28-32

Jesus told this parable: A man was having breakfast with his two sons. Dad told the older boy, “Son, go work in the vineyard today.” Astonishingly, this older son answered, “No, Dad, I won't do it.” The son's response was bold and rude. “No!”

Apparently without much ado, Dad turned to his younger son. “Son, I really you to work in the vineyard today. Will you do it?” Unlike his older brother, number two son promptly responded, “Sure, Dad. I'm on it. You can count on me.”

But this is not the end of the story.

After leaving the kitchen the older son changed his mind and headed out to the vineyard where he worked all day. Curiously, the younger son who had been so agreeable at breakfast, never stepped foot in the vineyard.

Buried in this simple story are two radical Christian convictions. The first: In the kingdom of heaven high-sounding religious or spiritual claims are worthless. Service is what counts.

This conviction was eloquently proclaimed by many of the Hebrew prophets. Our Old Testament reading comes from the Prophet Jeremiah. God ordered him to stand at the entrance of the temple and deliver this radical, combative message:

Listen up, all you who worship here! This is what the LORD of Heaven's Armies, the God of Israel, says: "'Even now, if you quit your evil ways, I will let you stay in your own land. But don't be fooled by those who promise you safety simply because the LORD's Temple is here. They chant, "This the temple of the Lord. This is the temple of the Lord. Don't be fooled. I will be merciful only if you stop your evil thoughts and deeds and start treating each other with justice; only if you stop exploiting foreigners, orphans, and widows; only if you stop your murdering; and only if you stop harming yourselves by worshiping idols. Then I will let you stay in this land that I gave to your ancestors to keep forever. "'Don't be fooled into thinking that you will never suffer because the Temple is here. It's a lie! [Jer 7:1-8 NLT paraphrased a bit]

In the eyes of God, religious and national identity are irrelevant. Sure these elements of identity have their place in our ordinary lives. We are glad we live here and not in Russia. We have a special loyalty to our country, the United States of America. We love our mountains and plains, our cities and our literature. We take special delight in Aaron Copelands Fanfare for the Common Man, imagining that that piece of music is especially American. We love our nation and we should.

But it is also vital to remember that before God all the particulars of nationality and religious identity are trivial. God does not favor one religion over another. God does not favor one nation over another. What matters is moral performance. This is the stern truth highlighted by these passages. God is not fooled by religious labels. We cannot sweet talk our past the keen judgment of God. God is watching.

Let's remember that when Jeremiah stood at the entrance of the temple and said, “Don't imagine that this temple buys you anything with God, he was speaking in a setting where nationality and religious identity were one. Like “Christian America” imagined by some people. The temple was the center of Jewish national and religious identity. And Jeremiah thundered against a false confidence that a connection with the temple bought favor with God.

This truth applies with special force in today's political environment where many church leaders have “blessed” the president because they imagine he has a Christian identity. God does not care about supposed religious identity. God cares about moral performance. A “profession of faith” is worthless or worse than worthless if a person's moral performance contradicts that profession of identity.

This truth applies to us in the church. When the denomination fails to contradict the worldly patterns of male dominance, the church's “true church identity” will not blind the eyes of the heavenly Judge. God will not bless us for being Adventist if we use the power structures of the church to defend the prerogatives of men addicted to power.

Let's not fool ourselves into thinking that because we are the “true church” we get a pass on being honest and compassionate.

Jeremiah's rebuke of Jewish national pride was underscored by his astonishing report that God had ordered him to stop praying for Israel. When Jeremiah was speaking the nation of Israel was surrounded by the armies of Babylon. The “good life” enjoyed by the nobility and priesthood and wealthy people was seriously threatened. Naturally, they wanted Jeremiah to pray for them, to pray that God would hold off the Babylonians. But God told Jeremiah to quit praying.

There was no point praying for mercy until the leaders of the nation began to practice mercy. There was no point in asking God to protect the good life of the one percent unless they used their power to make things better for the underprivileged and disadvantaged. Until those with wealth and status began using their power to make things materially better for families touched by bad luck and misfortune, God was not accepting prayers on behalf of the good life of Israel's leaders.

Most of us are privileged. Most of us are enjoying the good life. Jeremiah's warning speaks to us. Not “those other people.” Neither American citizenship nor Adventist or Christian identity put God in our debt. What matters is moral performance. It is a stern word. And it is true. If we are wise, we will pay attention.

This is one half of the story. It is an unavoidable truth.

There is also another truth written brightly into this story. Remember Jesus' story. A man had two sons. He asked both sons to work in his vineyard. The younger son said, “I will” but did not actually do any work. But even though the older son had said, “I won't,” he later changed his mind and spent the whole day working in the vineyard.

Jesus went on the apply this story.

"I tell you the truth, corrupt tax collectors and prostitutes will get into the Kingdom of God before you do. For John the Baptist came and showed you the right way to live, but you didn't believe him, while tax collectors and prostitutes did. And even when you saw this happening, you refused to believe him and repent of your sins. Matthew 21:31-32

Jesus point here is simple and liberating: Our identity up to this point does not determine our future. We were scoundrels? Well, it's not too late to start doing good. We said we did not give a rip about “those people?” We can start caring. We made a mess of things? We can start making beauty.

In the kingdom of heaven our history is less important than our future. Our heritage does not have to be our destiny. Today and tomorrow and through the coming week, we will have opportunity again to go work in God's vineyard.

It doesn't matter what we did last week. The week ahead of us beckons. God invites us to join him in his vineyard. Let's show up.

That would be really good.