09 July 2016

Sermon 6 March 2016 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 Lent IV Year C

         Do you have a Bible that has titles in it for various parables and other sections? I notice that often more recent publications and translations of scripture have left those titles out. Frankly, I’m glad about that because I often find myself disagreeing with the titles. Today’s scripture, for example, is titled, “The Prodigal Son.” And in part because of that, we mostly tend to focus on the younger son and his behavior. I’m convinced, however, that the more I read this parable and the more I discover about Jesus, that if we were going to give the parable a title, it would be, “The Prodigal Father.”
         Various dictionaries define the word “prodigal” this way: spending money or resources freely and recklessly, wasteful, extravagant, spendthrift, profligate, improvident, imprudent. And the second definition is slightly different: having or giving something on a lavish scale, generous, lavish, liberal, unstinting, unsparing, bounteous. Now I ask you, even though the first definition certainly fits the behavior of that younger son, doesn’t the second definition fit the behavior of the father? In most dictionaries the second definition listed is usually the one with a longer history, the way a word originally was intended to be used, or an archaic use. The first definition is usually how the word is used in contemporary common language.
         But if for a moment we look at the Prodigal Father, we might see the behavior we know from God. Lavish, generous, unstinting, bounteous, and so on. And that is exactly the way the father behaves in Jesus’ parable.
         A wealthy landowner in those days had dignity, presence, and power. He did not go running out to greet people, even his own kin. That is what servants were for, and wealthy landowners had plenty of those. What the landowner did here by rushing out to his son was to ignore convention and bypass the household steward, the servant whose duty it was to welcome.
         In addition, the part we often miss is that the wealthy landowner father also went out to greet his older son. He sought his son out. He did not tell someone to bring his older son to him, which again was the proper etiquette for the time, place, and person.
         This parable, at least in large part, is about God’s generous, profligate, lavish, unsparing grace. It’s about God seeking us, not us seeking God. There are two responses to this lavish grace. One is that when you are completely down and out, in the pit of despair, to borrow a title from an old movie, you receive grace with surprise and wonder and delight. The other response is when you have been working your fool tail off and trying every moment to do right. And that response often comes with resentment because it appears that all your hard work and effort have been useless and maybe even ignored.
         But God is a God of generosity and lavish grace, poured out continually for all of us. God wants us to respond to that grace with surprise and wonder and delight.
         As I stand here, looking at all of you, I remember and cherish the stories some of you have told me of God’s surprising grace. So for a moment here, think of one of those times. Maybe there is one that really stands out to you, something you will never forget. Maybe it’s just a sense of overwhelming peace and love. Or maybe there have been many times and it’s hard to pick just one of those times. So just sit for a moment and enjoy the memory of God’s surprising grace… (Pause)
         Now that you have that moment, yes, there are pieces of paper and markers at the aisle end of each pew. Please take one of those and write or draw that moment or those moments. And when the offering plate comes by, please put your moment or moments of grace in the offering plate. Later today we will add them to our banner for the Palm Sunday processional. And if you haven’t looked at it lately, do look at it today. We’re going to cover both sides of it with all the surprise and wonder and delight of the grace that God has so generously run out to greet us with when we least expected it, when we most needed it, and when we were empty and needed filling. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2016

Sermon 28 February 2016 Exodus 3:1-15 Lent III Year C

         I wish some times we could rearrange the order in which we read our scriptures on Sunday mornings. For most of us, the scripture we hear last is the one we remember. This morning, though, you might want to take another look at the story from Genesis. It’s a story most Sunday school children learn and most adults, even non-churchgoers find familiar. Moses and the burning bush, or the bush that was blazing but not consumed.
         Last week, we talked about how we imagine God. And many of you drew pictures or wrote something on one of the sheets of paper that described either by word or picture how you imagine God. Looking at everything on the banner made happy and I knew I was in the presence of something holy. I knew that when I saw how many of you generously shared your imaginations with other members of this congregation. Even our guests participated. And if you didn’t look at the banner as you came in to church, be sure to look at it as you leave because it is covered with last week’s imaginings.
         This week, let’s think about another way to imagine God. Moses, in this morning’s Old Testament or Hebrew Scripture, comes upon a bush that burns. It burns yet is not burnt up by the flames. He decides to turn aside and look at the bush to see why it isn’t consumed. And when God saw Moses had turned aside, God called Moses from the bush. First God called Moses by name, and when Moses answered, God told Moses to remove his shoes because he was standing on holy ground.
         In Eastern countries removing one’s shoes is like a confession, a confession of personal uncleanness or sin, and the person’s consciousness of their own unworthiness to stand in the presence of the holy.[1]
         What Moses encountered was the living God. And, God created a fire that burnt but did not consume the life of the bush God also had created. Moses takes off his shoes, not only out of the knowledge of his own sin and unworthiness in the presence of the holy, but also because he knows he needs to clear away any barrier between himself and God. Uncovering one’s feet was a symbolic way of showing vulnerability, a way to be open to God.
         The other thing to notice here is that Moses did not have to go away to a sacred place, or get so quiet he could hear God. Instead, Moses simply turned aside to look more closely at something he did not understand.
         Think about a time you turned aside to look at something you did not understand. Or how about something that aroused your curiosity, something new and different. Remember what that was like when you turned aside and looked, really looked. Or perhaps you heard a sound and turned your head to listen more clearly. And you listened, really listened. (Pause.)
         Now think about a time when you knew something was holy. What was that? When was that? Where were you? (Long pause.)
         I know you have thought of something, maybe several things by the expressions on your faces. So here’s what we’re going add to our banner.
         There are pieces of paper and markers in your pews. Write or draw on those pieces of paper the time when you felt the presence of the holy. It can be something that happened here, or something that happened anywhere else. Because God calls us to turn aside and notice we we are on holy ground in many ways and many places in the same way God called Moses to turn aside and notice. And so, while you may not have actually removed your shoes, or even thought about removing your shoes, you were standing on holy ground, on that place where earth and heaven connect.
         I know we all turn aside for different things and in different places because we are all different people. I could imagine God asking some of us to turn aside and remove our shoes on a golf course. I could imagine God asking some of us to turn aside and remove our shoes as we spread altar linens on the altar. I could imagine God asking us to turn aside and remove our shoes so we could look fully in the face of someone in need. And I could imagine God asking us in so many ways and so many places to turn aside and remove our shoes because we are on holy ground.
         So draw or write the experience you had of the holy. And, when the offering plate comes by, put your paper in the offering plate along with your other offering. After the service we will put them on the banner. Remember on Palm Sunday, we will carry the banner as we process through the church and outside as well, assuming our Oklahoma weather permits.
         Lent is about growing closer to God. One of the best ways I know to grow closer to God is by turning aside to notice, to listen and look for the presence of the holy. The bush burned for Moses, and it continues to burn for you. Remove your shoes because you are standing on holy ground.  AMEN.    

The Rev Nicolette Papanek
©2016`



[1] Commentary on the Whole Bible, Jamieson, Fausset and Brown: 1871, and other contemporary sources.

Sermon 21 February 2016 Luke 13:31-35 Lent II Year C

“How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! …And I tell, you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

         Jesus uses a fascinating metaphor in this morning’s Gospel. His metaphor is an intensely feminine picture of him. Yet Jesus was certainly male, in the form of a man.
         What Jesus’ metaphor does this morning is to open up for us a different way of viewing God, a way that transcends gender and takes us into a world of imagination.
         Lest you think this is the only image of God that is feminine, there are many others, and they are throughout both the Old Testament and the New. From the Old Testament alone, here are four unusual metaphors that spark our imaginations. Deuteronomy 32:10-11: God as a protective mother eagle. Hosea 13:8: God as a fierce mother bear. Isaiah 42:14: God as a mother in the act of birth. Isaiah 49:15: God as a mother breastfeeding her child.
         Jesus himself had many ways and metaphors he used to describe both himself and God. Can you think of a few? (Pause…) How about Jesus the bread of life? Jesus the light of the world. Jesus the vine. Jesus the gate, the way, the truth, the life. Jesus the living water. Jesus the new creation. Jesus the resurrection and the life. The hen is not the only creature. There is Jesus the good shepherd and Jesus the Lamb of God.
         So this morning in describing himself as mother hen, Jesus appeals to our imaginations. To become a new creation ourselves we use our imaginations, we enter a world of images and sounds, smells and touch, and even taste. All these things are stored in our imaginations; all these things are part of how we imagine God.
         All this is to say when we only describe God in one way, or even Jesus in only one way, we limit our imaginations. We cut ourselves off from the wide array of pictures and sounds, smells, and touches, and tastes that reveals God to us every day.
         Let’s begin with opening our imaginations today in the way Jesus did for us by likening himself to a mother hen. All the ways of imagining Jesus are right, even those that may seem a bit odd to others. The test of our imagination of God is to look for what would happen. If God is love, what would that mean? What would it look like? If God is light, what would that mean? What would that look like? If God is a vine, what would the vine do and what fruit would it bear? So if you’re afraid your picture or sounds, or smell, or touch, or taste of God might be wrong, never mind! It is yours. It is how you imagine God. After all, none of what we imagine is entirely “right” because none of us can fully imagine God. Imagining together though, can get us closer and closer to who God is and what God wants for us here and in the future.
         So let’s begin by imagining together this morning. You’ll find in your pews some pieces of paper and markers. Now, pick up that piece of paper and the pen or marker, and draw or write what you have in your mind and heart about God. What images do you think of when you think of God? What sounds, or tastes, or smells, or touches? You might have to share the markers with others around you so everyone has an opportunity to contribute what’s in their imagination.
         Just to get you started, you might imagine God as the sound of Bach. You might imagine God as the key to the prison door. You might imagine God as your favorite icon. You might imagine God as a tender touch. You might imagine God as the smell of good soup simmering on the stove. So whatever way you imagine God, draw it, write it, describe it, and get it on the paper. And when the offering plate comes by, put those pieces of paper in the offering plate. Later today, those imaginings will be pinned to the big white banner hanging in the back of the church. So take a minute or two now and put something on that paper. Put on the paper one of the ways you imagine God. (Long pause.)
         During this next week, look around you and think about how else you imagine God. You might find a picture in a magazine and cut it out. You might paint it, write it, sew it or knit it. It might be a poem or song, a prayer or a blessing. Just make it small enough to fit on the banner. And imagine how great it will be when we have so many different ways of imagining God that the banner is completely covered and things overlap. Because it is wonderful when our images of God overlap one another and intersect and dance together.
When you come to church next, whether it’s on a Sunday or another day, bring what you’ve made or written or sewed or knitted or painted or cut out of a magazine to pin to the banner. We’ll do this for the rest of Lent. On Palm Sunday, as we process with our palms singing “Hosanna, blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord,” we will carry our images of God in Jesus Christ. The One who comes among us to bless, heal, and inspire. 

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2016

Sermon 14 February 2016 Luke 4:1-13 Lent I Year C

         Have you ever wondered what the purpose is of temptations? Are they really just some mean-spirited scheme of God’s to catch us up and then say, “Aha! Gotcha?” Does the devil really prowl about, seeking someone to devour? Why was the devil waiting for Jesus in the wilderness? And even worse, why would the Spirit lead Jesus into the wilderness in the first place?
I’d like us to wonder about some things today. Maybe the reason for temptations is to help us sort out who we are and what we are supposed to be doing.
         People have temptations every day. There are always things that are hard to resist. Material things we don’t need sing a siren song called “Buy me, buy me.” Things of the spirit are after us with temptations as well. For those of us who can afford them, retreats, getaways to beautiful spiritual centers and monasteries, trips to various sacred sites beckon us while at the same time we hear the cries of the poor. Books and internet sites, compilations of artwork for centering prayer, paintings and icons and home shrines for prayer wave their little artistic hands at us, calling, calling, “Come with me. Be deeper spiritually. I might be the way and the truth. How will you know until you try me?”
         These temptations are what we might call middle-class, first-world temptations. These are not unique to us, but there are a lot of them. And what might be their purpose?
         The Spirit drove out Jesus into the wilderness. And most of us, if we are honest, have had our wilderness experiences too. There have been times we have languished in the dry fallow places wondering just what it was we were doing there. Maybe today finds you in one of those places.
         I’m going to encourage you to stay in that place for as long as it takes. Because the more I think about temptations and the wilderness, the more convinced I am that their purpose is to help us to recognize who we are.
         Everything Jesus said “no” to in the wilderness was something that called him away from his purpose, from the reason he was created as the Son of God, the one bearing salvation to the world. All the powers of evil conspired to a pinpoint in a devil in the wilderness and Jesus had to decide who he was.
         Perhaps our particular spiritual temptations have something important to say to us. Who has God created us to be? What is it God has for us to do? And how do those temptations keep us from being who God created us to be? How do those temptations keep us from doing what God is calling us to do?
         Let’s start here. Today. And together during this Lent rediscover: Who are we? Why are we here? What should we be doing?
         And let’s say “no” to the various temptations beckoning us away from who we believe we are.
  • ·      The temptation of distraction.
  • ·      The temptation of dissatisfaction.
  • ·      The temptation of complaining.
  • ·      The temptation of micromanaging and failing to leave the Spirit room to inspire.
  • ·      The temptation of doing it our way and only our way.
  • ·      And dare I say it? The temptation of grumpiness?

It is only by saying “no” to those temptations that we will discover the deeper “yes” God is calling is to become and to do.
         When you find yourself in the desert: Listen. Listen and say, “no” to the things that draw you away from who God created you to be.
And then listen and say, “yes” to the things that God created you to be. Listen and say, “yes” to the things God is calling you to do. These are things to which you must say “yes.” You have no other choice because God has created them so only you can do them. Only you have this purpose. In the company of others God called you for this purpose. Answer this purpose in the way Jesus answered God in the wilderness, by saying “no” to temptation and “yes” to God.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek
©2016