Sermon: Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost

Justin Yawn, Seminarian

Holy Trinity Parish, Decatur, Georgia

Today we hear a story about the 12 disciples, specifically James and John, in our Gospel lesson. It is a story unique to the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke. In the story we first see James and John make a pretty demanding request of Jesus. Secondly, Jesus responds to their question with questions that are affirmed by James and John. Then, the other disciples are taught a lesson about discipleship. Is anyone having a hard time following the chain of events in the story today? Because I know I was the first time I read it. However, despite the chain of events I think something radical is at work in this text that has real meaning for us today. The main question that I wrestled with after reading this text is what does it mean to be a disciple today? In order to answer this question we are going to have to embark on a journey, a journey into the core of this passage, ending in Jesus’ words to his disciples.

James and John are not just any two disciples. Earlier in the Gospel story we find out that Jesus calls them straight out of a fishing boat and tells them that now they are going to be fishers of men. They are considered the most zealous of all the disciples earning them the name “Sons of thunder”. These were not just any two of the twelve and later in the Gospel story we know that they will be with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. So, these two disciples ask Jesus what seems to be a bold question. “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you?” I can only imagine, although it is not in the text, that Jesus had to have raised an eyebrow to that question, after all he is the one who called these guys in the first place and he is their teacher, but he responds by saying “what can I do for you?” And they quickly ask…. (Read verse 37 here). Wow, is the first word that came to mind when I read that question. What gives these two the right to make such a demanding request? If we follow Mark’s portrayal of the disciples as dense and clueless, then we are presented with one way of understanding their question. In their denseness they have missed the point of Jesus’ passion prediction which just preceded this question. However, that is only one interpretation and I am not sure if that really justifies such a bold question. Another way to look at this problematic question is through the lens of uncertainty. I think that James and John are expressing uncertainty about the future which is probably a product of what Jesus has predicted three times. They believe that Jesus is going to Jerusalem to establish his Kingdom and they want to be certain that they have a place in it. They are not as focused on the present ministry that lies ahead.

This question is probably not too far from our minds this morning, especially in a world that is filled with anxiety about the future and a number of issues, the least of which is the economy. I am sure many of us sitting here this morning would like to change the question slightly and ask Jesus, “Can you make sure that I don’t get laid off this week?” Or “Can you make sure that my small business stays open through this economic decline?” or “Can you make sure that my family can keep their house?” Or even outside the walls of our little church home people around the world might be asking “Can you make sure I have something to eat tomorrow?” or “Can you make sure my children our safe walking to school?” Or “Can you make sure that my family has clean water tomorrow?” Not one of these questions is greater than another because they all are products of our anxiety and very real concerns for us. Just like James and John, we are seeking to bring some certainty to our future.

Jesus provides an interesting answer that does not deal directly with the future anxiety. He says that they will drink the cup that he will drink, that they will be baptized in the same way he is, but it is out his authority to grant them their request to sit at his right hand and left hand because it is for those whom it has been prepared for. What a radical response!! Probably not what James and John were hoping to hear. I am sure they were hoping that Jesus would say, sure James and John!! Which one of you wants to sit on my right and which one on my left? However, this is not the case. Instead Jesus gives an answer that is assures them that they have a place with him in the future, but the right and left hands are not just reserved for two people but for many. It is a unique answer. Not to mention Jesus does not come across as angry or agitated by their question, but the other disciples are angry. Possibly the other ten felt like they had been “one upped” by James and John, or that James and John were trying to take advantage of their beloved teacher. Whatever the case Jesus is quick to turn the situation into a lesson and this is, I believe, is the radical message in the Gospel today.

Jesus tells them that “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” What a radical new way to view discipleship. Jesus has shifted the whole role of a disciple into that of a servant. Not just one who proclaims the good news but one that is to live out the message they are spreading. Now I think it is important to make the connection between James and John’s original question and Jesus’ response. Essentially, Jesus has told James, John, and the disciples that in Christ we are reborn and called into the fold at baptism, have access to salvation through the cup/ death and resurrection of Christ, and because of this we should follow Christ’s example and be servants in the world. Jesus, in one way, addresses the future aspect of their question but decides to pull their attention back to the present task. The action that the disciples are to undertake then and there as well as the action we should take now in our lives. My brothers and Sisters through James and John’s question we are brought on a journey that unfolds the true meaning of Christian charity enacted in discipleship. Our love of God and recognition of Christ’s action in our lives leads us not to worry about the future glory that exists for us, but to focus on the present as disciples spreading this message of hope and love in the world not only by word but through action.

Jesus has transformed the way the 12 should think of their ministry and how we should think of our ministry as disciples today. Jesus came to save us and give his life a ransom for many: for us here today and for all of humanity. So, as Disciples of Christ, how are we going to be servants today and spread the love Christ has shown us? What does it mean to live into this life of servant hood or as faithful stewards of ourselves and resources? Yes, stewardship has a prominent place in this language of servant hood. It is not something to be frightened of. Discipleship calls us to be good stewards of what we have and through servant ministry we are able to share what God has blessed us with to those around us.

A modern day example of this stewardship and servant hood is found in the life and teachings of Mother Teresa. She believed that she was called to be a servant to the poorest of the poor, but that did not always mean the destitute. She believed that we should just simply share a smile to those around us because that is an example of the love of God residing in us. She challenges us to view the world in a new way focusing on those who have not been shown the love of Christ. She and her Sisters of Charity were truly servants.

Let’s just think back to my earlier questions I proposed and see how our parish family has responded. We as a community of servants have filled the need of clean water for many people living in Haiti. We have provided food through the Heifer Project to villages in Africa. Through our good stewardship we continue to provide food and other resources to those living in our own community through the ministry of DEAM. But, what about those other questions perhaps the more pressing questions for us here today?

Unfortunately, I am not able to stand before you with all the answers to those other questions. What I can stand before you and say is that we as disciples and servants are called to look around and find those in need just as Mother Teresa did. Think how we can transform the world we live in if we just stop and ask those in need around us “How can I help you today?” What if we find our neighbor who was just laid off and ask “How can I help you today? What if we ask that person on the side of the street in need of food, clothing and shelter “How can I help you today?” All of a sudden, through servant hood, charity and love, we begin to address the anxiety surrounding those questions. It is a radical message: Jesus is calling the disciples to act in faith and not just proclaim their faith.

This radical call to discipleship has to begin inside each one of us. The first step of this is, as our mission statement proudly proclaims, “Open our hearts to God”. This is something we have to decide to do on our own. It is the one part of discipleship, servant hood, and stewardship that cannot be done for us. It is an individual commitment to begin to live our life aligned with Christ and in accord with Christ recognizing that Christ is with us, provided us with our blessings, and calls us to a life of servant hood. Christ was the ultimate example of this radical servant hood when he gave his life on the cross as a ransom for us. As disciples, servants and stewards in God’s kingdom think how we can transform the world we live in if we just stop look around and tend, in whatever way we can, to those in need around us. Just think what you have accomplished in this community by being faithful servants and good stewards of your resources. My brothers and sisters what a wonderful world it would be if we all lived a life of charity and love of neighbor!! Amen.

Sermon: Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

The Very Rev. William Thomas Deneke, rector

Today we are presented with one of the difficult sayings of Jesus. Difficult, that is, if we are rich, and by world standards, we are. So it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for us to enter the kingdom of God.

That may put us in the position of comedian W.C. Fields. In failing health and near the end of his notoriously irreverent and indulgent life, Fields was found by his doctor propped up in his sick bed, reading the Bible. His doctor said, "W.C., what are you doing with a Bible?" Fields replied with his wit, "Well, my boy, I'm lookin' for loopholes."

We may be tempted to look for loopholes around being faithful stewards. Loopholes, though, are like mirages: they promise more than they give. That's because shortcuts in matters of faith and commitment lead us away from the kingdom of God.

But the gospel isn't just warning us about loopholes. It is describing what our evangelical friends might call the struggle between control and surrender.

As long as we have the resources to shape our destinies, we are going to be tempted to avoid surrendering our lives to God. That's because we tell ourselves that we don't really, really need God. We can take care of ourselves and taking care of ourselves is the most important thing we can do.

Most of us have been brought up to believe that. If our parents didn't teach us that, then our culture did. And it seems to work, so in return for our self-dependency, we may be charitable and sometimes even generous with our resources.

So Jesus could not possibly be talking to us.

As a child growing up in the 50's, I remember going with my mother to eat at Luby's Cafeteria in San Antonio. Cafeterias were sort of big things in the 50's. You would go through the line and choose what you wanted. There were lots of choices. As a kid I was always drawn toward fish and tartar sauce.

The cafeteria was quite different from a boarding house where I sometimes ate when I was in college. There you ate what was put on the table and you had to serve yourself quickly before it was gone. The choice was more eating or not eating than what to eat.

The cafeteria model was probably what the rich man in the gospel was used to. Maybe not so much in his eating habits, but in his decision-making. His resources allowed him to live with choices. And Jesus knew that the same resources that gave him choices could get him into trouble with his soul and his neighbor. Paradoxically, the choices that promised freedom and favor, could bind him to their domain.

Here's the good news: Our money will not save us. Money can do a lot for us and for others but it will never open the gates to the kingdom of God. Those gates are opened by grace, mercy and compassion. And we do well to use our money to facilitate our being open to those gifts of God. That's why Jesus told the rich man to give his money to the poor. In so doing the man might have discovered the true source of wealth.

It is unlikely that banks are going to print on our statements, Money is for glorifying God and not for salvation. But if we want to share in the kingdom of God, we might want to think about it.

The kingdom proclaimed by and revealed in Jesus was a way of living that turned ordinary values upside down. It could not be bought; there were no privileged memberships. It was a realm defined by the Beatitudes, a kingdom where the last was first and the first last.

And that's hard for us to contend with. But at the end of the day our place in the kingdom will be secured not so much by what we believe but by God's mercy. Through the love of God, we can make changes in our lives that seem as unlikely as a camel passing through the eye of a needle.

This afternoon we will honor St. Francis of Assisi by blessing animals on the parish lawn. Francis is a good example of how God transformed a person of wealth into a servant of grace. In him we are presented with a vision of God's realm and a story of a rich, young man who did not turn away from Jesus' invitation.

What kind of invitation is Jesus offering us? And how do we respond? In the gospel story the rich man went away grieving. But at least he got it. He experienced the invitation, took it seriously and responded intentionally. He could have blown it off.

I think that is the greater danger we face. Becoming so defended by our resources or status or beliefs or even debt that we are no longer vulnerable enough to really hear Jesus' invitation.

But life conspires against our defenses. And there are many invitations from God. Invitations to put our trust in mercy and compassion. Invitations to be a blessing to God and a neighbor to others. Invitations to be a faithful steward, trusting the abundance of grace that is redeeming us even now.

As God's stewards, all of us are invited to see money through the eyes of God's kingdom. As with the rich man in the gospel, that may sometimes challenge us. But how much richer we are when our eyes and hearts are opened by the One who loves us more than we can even imagine. The One whose love is such that it enables even a camel to go through the eye of a needle.

Sermon: Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

“Stewardship Sunday”

Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, Decatur, GA

The Rev. Pamela Cooper-White, Ph.D.

Texts adapted for Stewardship Sunday from Proper 20C and Proper 22B: Gen. 1:26-31, Ps. 104: 24-30, Heb. 1:1-4, 2:5-8, and Luke 16:1-13

Today’s Gospel is about something more private than our love lives, our deepest regrets, or how we brush our teeth. It is even more private than our prayer life. Today’s Gospel touches on what may be, in our North American culture, the most private and carefully guarded dimension of our lives: money.

Nearly everyone in our culture is extremely private about at least some aspects of our finances. Nothing breaks up an office friendship faster than finding out about an inequity in pay. Being laid off from a job is tantamount to being de-valued as a person, even if the reasons have nothing to do with performance and everything to do with budgetary constraints. There are those of us who are afraid that if anybody, including close friends and relatives, knew what we earn, they would look down on us—it wouldn’t be prestigious enough. Or, on the other hand, there are those of us who are afraid that if anybody knew what we earned, they would try to take advantage of us because we had more money than they. When we think about the emotions that are tied to money, particularly our own money (or the lack of it), we tap into envy, fear, guilt, and even shame—that haunting, pervasive feeling that we are somehow bad or insufficient people. We can feel shame if we enjoy our money, and we can feel shame if we don’t have enough to enjoy.

Practicing Christians may be even more funny about money than the general population. We tend to think of money as “filthy lucre” (from the King James translation of I Timothy). “Money is the root of all evil,” we repeat to ourselves, usually guiltily. “Money isn’t spiritual.” So we get ourselves into a terrible double bind: We feel miserable when we have enough money, or more than enough just to live simply and well, because that doesn’t feel “spiritual” enough; and yet we also know that we feel miserable when we truly don’t have enough. We either experience lack ourselves, or we witness directly every day the misery of the poor who never chose to be poor, both in this city and around the world. We know that there is nothing intrinsically spiritual about being cold, sick, hungry, sleep-deprived because there is no safe place to sleep, and dirty because there is simply no place to get washed up. No one financial condition, then, rich or poor or in between, guarantees a greater sense of spiritual well-being, and our souls’ longing for God and for the deeper meanings of life continue to go unmet regardless of our economic situation.

But there is no evidence that Jesus himself felt that money itself was evil, or dirty, or even un-spiritual!

Now you will surely protest that right in today’s Gospel Jesus says “You cannot serve (both) God and wealth,” and didn’t Jesus also say that money is the root of all evil?” (Actually, no, that quote is from I Timothy, and the exact quote is that the love of money is the root of all evil.)

I read these statements of Jesus in Luke today not as diatribes against money per se. Rather, I see them as statements against idolatry. Whom, or what, do you worship? Whom do you serve? Literally, in the words of the gospel, even, to whom or to what are you enslaved (as the text literally translates)? Where is your preoccupation, your time, your energy really invested? Jesus did say, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (Matt. 6:21). If money becomes our preoccupation, it may very well become our god. And Jesus was always very concerned with the false values of those who, like the Pharisees, seemed to worship their own wealth, or status, or power, or even their rules, rather than simply worshipping God—which would have been evidenced not by acts of ritual purity, but by acts of kindness, mercy, and justice.

As Christians, then, we tend to fall into a trap: the trap of spiritualization. Spiritualization means splitting off earth from heaven, body from mind, the visible from the invisible, and the material from the ethereal. We have inherited from Greek philosophy a system of thought called the “mind-body split,” in which the matters of mind and spirit are held to be separate from, and higher, better than, the matters of the body and the heart. We have been taught to prefer rationality over emotionality, logic over intuition, and an image of a Sky God “up there” somewhere, as opposed to an Earthy God, immediate, immanent, “down here,” close at hand. But we can’t spiritualize everything. For example, our bodies are earthy, fleshy things. We can’t become vapors just wafting around, no matter how ascetic our spiritual practices. Food and money and material things are all down-here kinds of things, down to earth.

What happens when we subscribe to a mind-body split way of thinking—and feeling—about the world, is that we end up having to devalue and belittle anything that belongs down here. So our bodies, our feelings, our material possessions, and yes, our money, all start feeling less-than, even dirty or shameful. Even evil. “Filthy lucre.”

Carry these ideas around inside long enough, and it’s easy to begin adopting a stance of scarcity about our material possessions. We learn from an early age that it is better to be skinny, to be stoic about our feelings and not show them, to hide away earthy functions—for example, to give birth and to die in sterile, impersonal hospital rooms rather than in warm, homey rooms surrounded by loved ones—and to be secretive about money because if there isn’t enough to go around, then we’d better hoard what we need. We are ashamed of the things that are not the “things of above,” and we impose on ourselves a spirituality of scarcity and guilt.

Jesus, on the other hand, taught a spirituality of abundance: “I came that they might have life, and have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10) So while Jesus never meant for us to worship money and material things, neither did he urge us to view the material as evil or dirty. When Mary of Bethany poured an extremely expensive perfumed ointment on his feet, the disciples asked him to rebuke her. In fact, according to John’s gospel, it was Judas himself who said, “Why was this perfume not sold for 300 denarii and the money given to the poor?”) (In a spoof called the “Politically Correct Bible,” Jesus replies, “Of course, what was I thinking? Here, maybe we can still scoop some of it up!”) But no, Jesus knew that money, and costly things, have many purposes, and at that moment, Mary’s purpose of the heart—and in all but Luke’s Gospel, her prophecy of his death—were more deeply right than any other purpose.

How could Jesus believe that? Because Jesus didn’t believe in a spirituality of scarcity. Jesus didn’t apparently believe that that was the only wealth that would ever be available, or the only opportunity to serve the poor, or even that the cost of the perfume was all that important in that moment. Jesus believed, it seems, that there was abundance enough for all holy purposes to be served.

Today is Stewardship Sunday here at Holy Trinity. Fall is the harvest time—an appropriate time for us to reflect on this abundant life, and how we give thanks for our time, talents, and treasures, and offer them to the church and the world.

Douglas John Hall, in a little book called The Steward: A Biblical Symbol Come of Age, also urges us to do away with this mind-body split in our thinking—both about talents and treasures. He writes:

The life of the world is where the theology of stewardship must seek its real foundation, and if this foundation is missing then no amount of beating the drum for God and money will make the least difference. If this world is not indeed the first object of Christian concern…then stewardship of this world is…just an addendum.

But if this world matters, and if the secret of its mattering is felt in the very depths and center of the gospel, then Christian stewardship of this beloved world is of the essence of our belief, and every attempt to shove it off to the side is a form of apostasy and blasphemy.

And so, back to that confusing, rather strange parable in today’s Gospel. Jesus almost seems to be commending the unjust steward or “manager” for his cleverness and his shrewdness, which may have a negative, crafty connotation. But let’s look at the word that gets translated as “shrewdness.” In the original Greek text, the word is phronimos – which simply means using practical wisdom, or even, based on related words in the New Testament, using care. Nothing pejorative about it. Isn’t it possible that when we read this text we identify too much, as Christians, as the [quote] “children of light,” spiritualized beings who can’t allow ourselves to think in savvy and bold ways about money or material things of this world, because we don’t allow ourselves to think about money at all? Yet Jesus is quoted as saying “Make friends for yourselves by means of this Mammon of unrighteousness—so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” A confusing passage, to be sure, but I think what Jesus is really being quoted as saying here is, “Use money, don’t shrink from it, go ahead and use it to befriend holy purposes.”

In closing, I want to share a little oddity I came across in my readings on today’s texts. Do you know where the English word “stewardship” comes from? It’s related to the word for “sty,” or “pigsty.” The steward was the “sty-ward,” the warden--the guardian, or caretaker of the sty! Far from being some lofty, pious manager of resources who keeps money and the material world separate from the supposedly “spiritual” things that really matter, the steward is somebody who gets right down there in the mud and mucks around with the rest of the piggies! There couldn’t be a more earthy message than that! Maybe we need to supplement the beloved metaphorical command of Jesus to “tend my sheep,” which conjures up images of fluffy, clean, heavenly little postcard lambs with a different command, which conjures up a very different picture: “Tend my pigs!” And of course, we are all pigs in it together.

So get out your rake and your knee-high boots, and revel in the work that is to be done as stewards in God’s muddy, wallowy, oozy dark earth.

God is as much in the muddy earth as in the sky; in the body and the heart as in the mind; and God is just as much in how we use our material possessions, and yes, even our money, as God is in our meditation practices and our prayerbook and our hymnal.

And so I would exhort those of you who are on the Stewardship Commitee : Get down there, roll up your sleeves, get out your pitchfork if you need it, and practice boldly saying, “We need your heart, and your hands, and your time, and your talent—and we very much need your money. How much can we count on from you?” Get in front of the mirror if you need to, and say the word until it loses its charge of shame and fear: “MONEY. MONEY. MONEY!”

And to those of you who will receive these visitors:

Enjoy your money! Revel in a theology of abundance, not scarcity! Whether you have a lot or a little, you don’t need to live in fear, or shame, or envy, or embarrassment. Give freely of your time and talent—and give freely of what money you have. When we truly believe that we don’t need to fear, that there will be enough, and that loving God will lead us to the abundant life, then we will also give freely, and that abundance will overflow into justice and dignity for everyone—including ourselves—not just in the next world, but right here on God’s glorious, muddy earth!

Amen.