This Sunday (Proper 22a) we have the 10 Commandments in Exodus 20. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Sabbath these days…particularly in the sense that as a culture we don’t get any…. and I’m going to be preaching on that this Sunday. Walter Brueggeman’s recent book “Sabbath as Resistance” is amazing, and I recommend it highly.
A hi-def version of the infographic below can be downloaded in PDF form here.
As I’ve said previously, I’m a little addicted to Piktochart… I find it immensely helpful to storyboard a sermon.
Acrylic and paper on gallery wrapped canvas. 18×24. Rick Morley, 2014.
A reflection on Philippians 2:1-13, the epistle lesson for Proper 21a, according to the Revised Common Lectionary.
While deep in the parables of Matthew for the last few months, remembering to love our neighbor, to forgive, to offer grace, and revisiting the sometimes odd intricasies and reversals which characterize the Kingdom of Heaven, we might just forget the Big Thing: For it is God who is at work in you, enabling you.
God is in you.
The same God who emptied himself, taking the form of a slave. The same God who was born in human likeness and humbled himself. The same God who became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
That God is in you.
The same God who is highly exalted, and who bears the Name that is above every Name, so that at His Name, every knee in all creation bends. The same God whom every tongue confesses is Lord.
That God is in you.
It’s the mystical element of Paul’s letters that just makes me get goosebumps up and down my arms. God isn’t just this entity that’s way “out there,” but that God is in us.
So much so that it no longers matters whether we live or die. (Romans 14:8) So much so that it no longer matters if we are Gentile or Jew, slave or free, male and female. (Galatians 3:28) So much so that we bear on our bodies the marks, the brands, wounds the stigmata of Christ. (Galatians 6:7) So much so that in the waters of baptism we die with Christ, and we share in the power of his resurrection. (Romans 6:4)
God is in you.
What a gift. It’s the entirety of the Gospel, crystalized into one little phrase. God, the Creator and Redeemer of the Universe lies within you. Within your body, and within the intanglible essence which makes you you.
And, while a gift, it’s also a responsibility. For as a God-bearer we are to treat ourselves like a tabernacle which houses the Living God. And, we are to treat those around us—even the prickly ones who are hard to love—as tabernacles which house the Living God.
I also wrote these Prayers of the People based on the Christ Hymn in Philippians.
A reflection on Matthew 20:1-16, the gospel lesson for Proper 20a, according to the Revised Common Lectionary.
This parable sounds “unfair” to our ears, every bit as much as it sounded unfair to those who heard Jesus say these words 2,000 years ago.
But, they are only unfair if you’re looking out for yourself first.
I mean, what if, just for a moment, your main concern was for someone else to get ahead. I mean what if that was the only thing on your mind?
Then, this parable would be amazing. This parable would be exactly what you were looking for.
What would it take for us to cheer for those last workers who came as the bulk of the job was finished, and as everyone was cleaning up for the day? What would it take for us to whoop and hollar when their check was just as big as everyone else’s?
What would it take for us to be for those workers who came in the cool of the morning, and who worked through the heat of the day to get the same paycheck as everyone else?
It would take us having the mindset of God.
Here’s the thing, when it comes to God’s Kingdom, there’s only one prize: Being in God’s Presence now and forever. Here in this world and in the world to come. That’s it. There isn’t a consolation prize. No silver, no bronze.
And, anyone is allowed in, whether they signed on early, or whether they skidded in at the last minute. AND, God is excited that each and every one of us is in, no matter how long our commitment.
Because the first larborers are God’s Children. And the ones who came next; they are God’s Children. And the ones who came last…they are God’s Children.
So now, isn’t this parable amazing?
I’ve started using Piktochart, which is an infographic creator. It’s not free, but there is a MAJOR discount for nonprofits. I sent them our church tax id, and they gave us the steep discount. It takes a little getting used to, but it’s pretty quick to pick up once you get the hang of it. I like it mostly because I’m a visual thinker, and it REALLY helps me story-board my sermons. I’ve used it for several sermons now, but this is the first time I’m sharing one. This was the basic flow for my 9/14 sermon.
A reflection on Matthew 18: 21-35, the gospel lesson for Proper 19a, according to the Revised Common Lectionary.
Oh, how I love this parable. If ever there were someone who got what they deserved, it’s this weasel!
He owed a debt of 10,000 talents. A talent was equivalent to a year’s wage.
In 2013 in America, the median yearly income was a little over $51,000. So, in 2013, 10,000 talents would be worth a little over 500 million dollars.
Imagine opening up a bill for that.
And then imagine that debt being forgiven. Wouldn’t you be a little relieved? Perhaps even a little overjoyed? Maybe you’d want to pass it on?
Not our little weasel, though. After being forgiven 500 million, another slave owed him about 18 thousand dollars. And he seized him, and had him thrown into jail.
When the Master, who had forgiven the half billion heard about this injustice he had him seized and tortured, until he could repay the debt, which was of course…never!
Isn’t it delicious! The weeping! The gnashing! O, the justice!!
But then these words of a Jesus haunt me…
Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’
Oh, crud…
The weasel is me. I’ve been shown so much mercy. SO much mercy. More mercy in fact than I’m comfortable going into on The Internets…
Who am I to judge another? Why can’t I have mercy on this huge weasel?
And, THAT’S what this passage is about. Mercy. Extravagant, ridiculous, over-the-top mercy. Not just on the undeserving, but ESPECIALLY on the undeserving. (Mercy wouldn’t be mercy if it were somehow earned…)
It’s so easy to want to climb on top of another. It’s so easy to want to claim the higher ground, and proclaim myself better than someone else.
But, that is not the way of Jesus. Jesus’ way is the way of mercy.
A short reflection on Matthew 18:15-20, the gospel lesson for Proper 18a, according to the Revised Common Lectionary.
No matter how holy the person, or how pure their intentions, eventually they are going to hurt someone else. It’s inevitable.
When we are hurt, there are the two great temptations: 1) to strike back with vengeance and spite, and 2) to put on a fake smile and pretend that everything is just fine. Some people are naturally drawn to one of these. Sometimes we’re drawn to one or the other because of the situation or the person involved.
But, neither way brings peace.
Peace only comes from the hard, and sometimes painfully awkward, work of reconciliation.
Jesus, whose way is a way of love and peace naturally provides some instruction for what happens when, not if, someone hurts you. First you try and work it out yourself. Directly. Face to face. If that doesn’t work, then you bring in a trusted third party. And, if that also fails, then you being it to the whole assembly. If this third plea falls of deaf ears, you walk away, and let it go.
There’s great wisdom here, if we’re willing to listen. If we’re willing to do the more difficult thing. It’s easier to skip everything else and move right to step #4 and walk away. It’s easier to talk yourself out of step #1, and just forget the whole thing even happened. It’s easier to just shut down if step #1 doesn’t work.
Reconciliation is hard. But, homes and friends and communities and churches who do the hard work not only get through the bad times, but they are stronger for it. And, their love has a tensile quality to it, for it was hard fought.
Beatty United Methodist Church, Whetsell Settlement, West Virginia. Rick Morley, 2014. (This is the church that my wife grew up in)
out to sea. Acrylic and decoupage on 12×18 gallery wrap canvas. Rick Morley, 2014.