Holy Mystery

February 26^th, 2017    “Holy Mystery”     Rev. Heather Jepsen

Matthew 17:1-9 and Exodus 24:12-18

          By the looks of the daffodils outside, spring is coming early, but Easter is a bit late this year, coming April 16th.  (Is Easter ever on time?)  Of course the precursor to Easter is the season of Lent, which will begin this Wednesday.  The Sunday before Lent is always the Sunday that we read about the Transfiguration of Jesus.  And so, we leave behind the harsh teachings of the Old Testament, and Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, to find Jesus this morning on the mountaintop turning his face toward Jerusalem.

          In our reading from Matthew, Jesus has left behind the crowds and the majority of his disciples and has gone up the mountain with his inner circle, Peter, James, and John.  These are the three that he trusts the most, and these are the men that will be with him in Gethsemane when he is finally handed over.  He takes his disciples to a mountaintop, which regular Bible readers might recognize as a traditional site for revelation from God.  Throughout the scriptures it is on the mountaintop where the divide between God and humanity can be crossed.

          Upon the mountain Jesus is transfigured.  The word transfiguration comes from the Greek word for metamorphosis which means to change.  His appearance changes as his face shines like the sun and his clothes glow dazzling white.  Moses and Elijah appear at his side.  Peter begins to ask if he should build tents or tabernacles for the holy men but is interrupted by a bright cloud.  From within the cloud comes the voice of God, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”  The word for listen used here is the Hebrew word shema which means both hear and obey.  So the disciples are not just asked to listen to Jesus, but to also pay attention and to do what he says.

          Well, this voice from the cloud scares the dickens out of the disciples and they fall to the ground in fear.  I imagine that any of us would do the same if we were in their situation.  What brings the disciples out of their state of fear is none other than the touch of the Lord.  Jesus, appearing normal once more, touches them, saying “Get up and do not be afraid.”  The group then descends the mountain to return to the daily struggles of discipleship.

          Unlike many of the gospel readings I think this scene, the transfiguration of Jesus, is one of the hardest ones for us to imagine.  We can imagine healing miracles because we know people who have been healed.  We can imagine great teaching because we have met very charismatic teachers.  We can even imagine the calming of the storm because we have seen the weather change quickly.  But faces like suns, dazzling clothes, bright clouds, and bodiless voices are not something we have any experience of.  There is something about this story that is hard to relate to our modern life, and I think that it is the mystery and profound otherness of God.

          It is not hard to see the connections between Matthew’s telling of the transfiguration and the Exodus story of Moses on the mountaintop.  Like Jesus, Moses ascends a mountain to be closer to the Lord.  A cloud comes down and settles upon the mountain and the glory of God is within the cloud.  For six days Moses waits alone within the cloud.  I like to imagine how Moses might have felt in that cloud.  Six days is a long time to hang around with limited sensory input and wait.  It is not until the seventh day that the voice of God finally speaks.  It is at this point that God will give the covenant to Moses.  Moses spends a total of 40 days and nights on the mountaintop, and to the Israelites below the mountain appears to be on fire.  I am certain that they were frightened at the mysterious sight, I know I would be.

          The purpose of this Exodus story is to stress the difference between God and humanity.  God is holy, separate, fully other.  God is not human and humans are not God.  God is mysterious, scary, and cannot fully be known.  We read a lot in the Old Testament about the “fear of the Lord” and the story of the Israelites in Exodus is one of those that inspires that fear.

          In the Exodus passage, God sets out the ways in which God can be known, the way in which the gulf between the human and the divine can be bridged.  God is known in a covenant which communicates God’s will.  God is known in an awesome presence that appears in particular earthly places that God chooses.  God is known not directly but through God’s glory.  And God is known through a mediator of God’s choosing, the role of Moses in this passage.  All these points stress that God is known only on God’s terms, and that God is never fully known by humanity.  Part of God’s essential nature is mystery.

          The transfiguration story in Matthew shows us that the mystery of God is also present in the person of Jesus Christ.  The story stresses a profound otherness through the elements of shining faces, clouds, and voices.  This is the holy otherness of God. 

          I think sometimes we like to imagine that we have God under control.  That somehow, through reading the scriptures and coming to church we have gained an understanding of who God is.  But the truth is that we can never fully know who God is.  We can never fully know what God thinks or wants.  God is holy, God is separate, God is other, and God is mystery.

          A friend shared with me that sometimes they are bothered when people tell them that God has a reason for everything.  I think as Christians we like to look back in our lives and point out the hand of God.  We might say that God let someone get cancer so that someone else would come to faith.  Or we might say that God let someone break their leg, so that they would become more dependent on others.  We like to think that we know the reasons God has done or not done certain things.  I think that the holy mystery of God that our scriptures point to, should remind us that we do not have the answers. 

          We do not know why God does some things or why God does not do other things.  And I would argue, we are not supposed to know.  God is God and we are not.  We need to avoid the temptation to have the answers, to have it all figured out, to puff ourselves up into thinking that we know exactly who God is or that we can explain all of God’s actions.

          It is true that we know some things for certain; we know about love and peace, we know about grace and hope.  We often get a glimpse of God’s kingdom of justice, but we can never fully know God.  The scriptures of the Old Testament took pains to point out the great divide between God and humanity.  And though Christ reveals God more fully to us, the story of the transfiguration reminds us that Christ too, is part of the holy mystery that is God.  For God to remain God, God can’t ever be fully understood by humanity.  Part of the essence of the nature of God is profound otherness, holiness, and mystery.

          As we enter the season of Lent this year we are living in a world that forces us to ask many questions.  Who are we?  Who is God?  Where is God acting in our world?  And, more pressing perhaps, the question of why things are happening the way that they are?  This Lent, I want to encourage you to focus on the holy otherness of God, and I want to encourage you to marvel at God’s mystery.  As we begin our journey once more toward the cross, may we remember that God is profoundly holy, profoundly other.  God is as distant as the fire on a hill, and as near as the comforting touch of a friend bringing us out of a moment of fear.  In our crazy world we don’t have all the answers, and our readings for today remind us that we are not supposed to have all the answers.  May we go out into the world today embracing the holy mystery of our God.  Amen.

         

         

         

         

         

The Holiness of Love

February 19^th, 2017    “The Holiness of Love”   Rev. Heather Jepsen

Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18 with Matthew 5:38-48

          Sometimes when we gather here on Sunday mornings it is to talk about big ideas.  We dig deep into the meat of the scriptures and wonder about how they inform our lives, or what they might mean about our condition as flawed human beings.  While you might leave with some deep thoughts to ponder for the week, you might not leave with some concrete ideas of actions to take.  By contrast, both of our texts this week are full of practical advice.  If you want to live the good life of the blessed people of God, then these texts will tell you how to do it.

          We will start this morning with Leviticus.  Readers of the Bible will know that Leviticus is one of the most boring books in the Bible.  Full of rules and laws, Leviticus is hardly a page turner and I admit, in over 10 years of ministry this is the first time I have ever tried to craft a sermon from these texts.  But I loved our reading from Leviticus this week; I was immediately drawn to it.  “Don’t glean your whole field, be honest, be just, love your neighbor as yourself,” why this sounds a whole lot like our friend Jesus talking!

          What we are looking at here is a section of the holiness code.  Moses is passing on to the people the instructions that he has received from God upon the mountain top.  This is how the people are to distinguish themselves from the culture around them.  They are to be holy, for the Lord that they worship is holy.

          This is the part where we begin to tune out.  Holiness is not for us, we think.  That is a status reserved for those special people.  That is for Mother Teresa, and Pope John Paul, and Pope Francis, and maybe the Dali Lama, but definitely not for us.  We would never even aim for holiness, let alone consider ourselves to be holy.  But of course, that is the wonderful challenge of these texts.  “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to all the congregation of the people Israel.”  This message isn’t just for Moses, it isn’t just for the elders signed on to help him lead, it isn’t just for Popes, and pastors, and Sunday school teachers.  No, this message is for all the people of Israel.  Even that one guy at the back of the crowd who has trouble sitting still and paying attention, even that one lady with the shifty eyes who always seems to be up to something, even those who stand on the fringe of the group.  Speak to all the people of Israel and tell them, “you shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” 

          So, what does this holiness look like?  Well, it looks like love.  Not just a feeling of warmness toward our neighbors, but the work of love lived out in daily life situations.  “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field . . . you shall leave them for the poor.”  When you harvest don’t take it all.  God gave you the gift of the harvest, and so you, in the image of God, are called to give that harvest away.  Be generous, for your God is generous.

          Since few of us are farmers today, the obvious parallel here is money.  When you reap that pay check at the end of each month.  Don’t spend it all on yourself, but give a portion of it away.  Another, perhaps more challenging way I was thinking about this idea this week was time.  Now there is a field where I harvest from corner to corner, edge to edge.  When it comes to my allotment of hours each day, I have fully harvested every second.  I thought I might challenge myself this week to try to leave a little on the edge of my field of time; some extra for my children, some extra for a stranger who stops by the church, some extra for prayer.   How might others glean from my time? 

          Leviticus reminds us that living in the holiness of love is a daily task.  We shouldn’t steal what is not ours to take.  We shouldn’t lie to each other.  We shouldn’t use the Lord’s name as anything other than the name of the Lord.  We should be honest with our neighbors and with those who work with us and for us.  We shouldn’t do anything that makes life hard for another person.  We should live love, as our Lord is love.

          Leviticus reminds us that we are called to live lives marked by justice, which doesn’t mean using pity to make decisions.  How often do we enter a contested situation already knowing in our heart our answer because we favor one side?  We either pity the poor, or we worship the most powerful.  I can see this playing out in many a political discussion on both sides these days.  God calls us to make just choices without partiality.  That is yet another way that we live love, as our God is love.

          We talked a few weeks ago about our responsibility to our kin.  In the Old Testament our kin are all those with whom we share the community.  Our kin are all of the people of God.  Just as in our reading from Isaiah, we are called to treat everybody in the world with love and respect.  Even when someone wrongs us, we are not allowed to take vengeance or to hold a grudge; rather our lives are to be marked by forgiveness.  We are called in Leviticus to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, we are called to be holy, as our God is holy.

            Our reading from Matthew is more familiar to us than the Levitical code but that doesn’t necessarily soften the message, or the demand for holiness.  Just as Leviticus tells us to be holy, the Jesus of Matthew’s gospel tells us to be perfect.  And it is a perfection lived out in our daily interactions with other people.

          While some have read Jesus’ famous words about turning the other cheek and going the extra mile as a call to nonviolent protest, sometimes I think that is just a way for us to talk ourselves out of the hard message.  If we recognize the connections between Jesus’ sermon and the writings of Leviticus one can argue that Jesus simply meant what he said.  If someone hits you, let them hit you twice.  If someone takes what you have, give them even more.  If someone forces you to march, well, “these boots were made for walkin’”.

          If we make this a message of social justice and resistance to unjust systems, then that feels good because in our hearts we are still fighting.  But that doesn’t work when it comes to loving our enemies.  In our hearts, that is just love, not battle.  Jesus tells us to be perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.  Just as Leviticus tells us to be holy as the Lord our God is holy.  Just as I want to say to you, be love, as your God is love.

          Jesus gives us lots of examples of how that love is lived out in daily life.  “Give to everyone who begs from you.”  That used to be hard for me but I have learned that this can be easy if I plan ahead to give.  I have some money in a special pocket in my purse that is my “giving away” money.  Just a small $10 bill, but I make sure it is always there in that pocket.  That way, when someone asks, I don’t have to worry about whether or not they deserve the money, or whether or not they are lying to me, or what they are going to do with it.  I don’t have to worry about anything, because I am just giving them my “give away” money, that’s why I have that money with me in the first place.  It is just a small amount of money and a simple idea but I have found it makes things so much easier for me when someone comes to the church asking for help, or when I see someone on the street.  This is the same idea behind those Manna Bags that the youth are working on.  If you are ready to give something away when someone asks, then it’s not a scary or stressful thing anymore.  It’s a really simple way to follow the teachings of Jesus and to live love as God is love.

          Jesus says to pray for your enemies.  That’s another simple thing we can do.  You know who has hurt you or upset you.  You are probably carrying those individuals in your heart right now.  Give them over to God in prayer, rather than carrying them like a burden throughout your day.  Deal in love and forgiveness, as your Lord deals in love and forgiveness.

          Leviticus calls us to be holy as God is holy, and Jesus tells us to be perfect as God is perfect.  Both of these seem like impossible challenges in the abstract, but in the practical nature of daily life, I think we are all able to live lives marked by the holiness of love. 

          Don’t harvest your whole field, and be prepared to share if someone comes to you and asks.  Don’t take anything that isn’t yours, and may your relationships with neighbors, friends, and strangers be marked by truth.  Try not to be swayed in your understandings of justice, and say a prayer for those who have done you wrong.  If someone hurts you, don’t respond with another hurtful action, but respond with prayer. 

          As the people of God, we are called to live lives that are different from the way that society runs itself.  The lessons of the scriptures teach us that our actions as individuals will shape the well-being of the entire community.  Everyone is called to be holy, as our God is holy.  Everyone is called to live a life marked by love, as we worship a God who is love. 

          Go out from this place this week and consider this lesson.  How are you called to manifest the love of God, the very identity of God, in the world around you?  How can you be holy, as your Lord is holy?  God has been asking this of God’s people for generations.  It might sound like a lot, but I know you can do it.  Be love, as your Lord is love.  Amen.

 

Choosing Life

February 12^th, 2017           “Choosing Life”        Rev. Heather Jepsen

Deuteronomy 30:15-20 with Matthew 5:21-37

          While our New Testament reading for today keeps us in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel, our Old Testament reading jumps backwards from the prophets of weeks past to the words of Moses.  This morning I found deep connections between Moses’ exhortation to choose life, and the kind of life Jesus calls us to live.

          The writing from Deuteronomy is part of Moses’ final address to the people.  You may remember from a few years ago when we did a sermon series on Moses, that Moses doesn’t actually get to the Promised Land.  He is able to see it from afar but he is not able to cross the Jordan and enter the land himself.  Having taken the Israelites within footsteps of their goal, Moses now prepares to die at the ripe old age of 120.  Before he breathes his last, he gives a long speech to the people, encouraging them to continue to follow the paths that God has laid before them.

          Moses makes it clear that the future is up to the people themselves.  “See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity.”  All futures are open to the people, from success and joy to death and destruction.  It is up to the people to choose which path they will follow.  Making the choice is all about how people will respond to God.  If they follow God’s commandments they will be blessed, if they choose to follow idols instead, they will perish. 

          Moses encourages the people to choose life.  “I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses.  Choose life so that you and your descendants my live.”  Just like the Israelites our natural response to these phrases is to say “yes, I choose life.”  No one when given a choice between blessings and curses, chooses the curses.  And yet, this simple idea can be very difficult to put into practice.

          When I was discussing this passage in my lectionary group this week, one of my friends brought up the idea of idols.  Just who were these idols that the Israelites were tempted to worship instead of their God.  Surely this can’t be a matter of putting up a stone statue and worshipping that instead of the almighty God that had brought the people out of the land of Egypt with signs and wonders.

          I think that the temptation the Israelites faced was much the same temptation that we face today.  Just like them, we are seeking security and comfort in our lives.  Of course I choose to trust in God for my security, but that doesn’t mean I don’t also pay attention to the stock market and watch my investments.  Of course I choose to worship God, but that doesn’t mean I don’t watch the news each evening and let that dictate my outlook on the world.  Of course I choose to share what I have with others, but only to a sensible point, I need to have enough for my own retirement after all.

          The Israelites were tempted to worship the neighboring gods, because to them that seemed like a sense of security.  I can plant my crop and pray to the Lord for rain, but why not stop and make an offering to Baal just in case.  One has to cover all their bases after all.  That is not so different from waking up each morning and thanking God for our day, while we also check the stock numbers in the morning paper.  One has to cover all their bases.  From the idol of financial security to the idol of our political identity, we are just as likely to choose something other than God as the Israelites were.

          The gift of this reading is that God places this choice before us each and every day.  God is offering us the opportunity to choose life, to choose a hopeful future, and it is up to us to make that choice through our daily thoughts and actions.  Every morning we wake up with the opportunity before us to choose life.  We can choose to love God, to cling to God, to follow God’s ways and commandments through our daily activities.  This can be something as complicated as sorting out our finances or something as simple as smiling at a stranger walking down the street.

          In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gives us a few instructions on choosing life.  Jesus encourages us to choose forgiveness over anger, faithfulness over lustful desires, covenant relationships over casual affairs, and the simple truth over complicated lies.  Jesus tells us to choose life by choosing to interact with each other in simple and truthful ways. 

          You might have noticed my new stole this morning and I want to take a moment and tell you about it, because I think it is a wonderful example of someone choosing life.  This stole was a gift to me from a friend of mine named Ron Smelser.  15 years ago, when I was considering going to seminary Ron was the clerk of Session at the church I was a member at, First Presbyterian Church in Moscow, Idaho.  Ron decided that part of his duty as clerk should be to send me postcards while I was away at seminary.  So, through four years of schooling, I would receive a postcard from Ron about once a week.

          Well, it didn’t take long for Ron’s term to expire as Clerk, and yet he continued to send the postcards.  Then Ron left Moscow, Idaho to take a new job as the Associate Dean of Engineering at the University of North Carolina in Charlotte, and yet he continued to send postcards.  Then I graduated from seminary and began working at my first church.  And still the post cards came.  Through the birth of my children, to our big move across the country, every week or so for the past 15 years, I have received a post card from Ron Smelser.  You might wonder what profound words these post cards offer, but in reality they are simply correspondence.  From comments on the weather, or about his work at the college, to news about his kids and now grandkids, Ron simply shares the details of daily life.  But despite its simplicity, the constant show of love and support for me and my ministry has meant a great deal to me. 

          A few weeks ago, Ron called me on the phone.  He and I have never talked on the phone, and so I was very surprised and curious to find out why he was calling me after such a long time.  Well, Ron said he was calling because he wanted to give me a gift, a stole to celebrate my ordination.  He said “I meant to do this ten years ago but I got busy.  I feel bad that I never did anything for you.”  I was aghast at such a statement.  “Ron,” I said, “You have given me so much, you have been there for me in a way no one else has.”  Other than my immediate family, Ron has been the one constant on my journey of ministry.  We only knew each other in person for 3-4 years at the most, but his gift of thoughts, prayers, and postcards has been a constant for 15 years.  Ron chose life in a simple way, by offering me a profound gift, one postcard at a time.

          Today we gather at the communion table and this is yet another opportunity to choose life.   Here we gather to say that we once again commit ourselves to following the path of Jesus Christ.  We will choose forgiveness over anger.  We will choose faithfulness in our relationships.  We will choose the Lord over the idols of money, power, and politics that call to us on a daily basis.  When we come to this table, we choose life.

          As you go out into the world today, I encourage you to remember the words of Moses, for they are as true for us as they were for the Israelites on the edge of the Promised Land.  “I have set before you today life and death, choose life.”  Go out into the world this week and choose life.  Turn off the TV.  Take a walk outside.  Call an old friend.  Play with children.  Take time to laugh.  Take time to cry.  Tell the truth.  Worship God with your heart.  Sing a song that you love.  Read a book.  Apologize to someone, even if it was mostly their fault.  Stop arguing.  Have patience with yourself and others.  Go out to lunch.  Take a coffee break.  Find some joy in the world.  Send a postcard to a friend.  Choose life.  Amen.

Salt and Light

February 5^th, 2017         “Salt and Light”    Rev. Heather Jepsen

Isaiah 58:1-12 and Matthew 5:13-20

          These are interesting days in the United States of America.  One might be tempted to say that we’ve never seen anything like this before.  But of course, over the course of history that have been many periods of time where things look just like this.  In fact, we can even look to the ancient texts of the Bible for inspiration.  Last week we discussed Micah’s call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God and I encouraged you to consider those as a sacrifice in your life.  This morning’s readings follow much in the same vein.

          Our reading from Isaiah comes from what is commonly thought of as the period of Third Isaiah.  Over time scholars have come to the conclusion that rather than being one unified work, what we now call the Book of Isaiah consists of writings of three different authors occurring at three distinct time periods in the history of Israel.  Our reading from today is from the third contributor to Isaiah and covers the time period from 538-515 BC.  This is the time of the restoration of Israel.  The people have been released from Babylonian captivity and have returned to Israel and Judah and are working to rebuild the temple.

          Of course, just because the people are back home, that doesn’t mean that they are suddenly well behaved.  Isaiah points out that the people are continuing to engage in false worship.  He accuses them of practicing a false piety.  They engage in fasting, and mourning in sack cloth and ashes, making big outward public displays of their faith; but in the meantime they continue to oppress those that work for them. 

          Much like our reading from Micah last week, Isaiah points out that God is not interested in these false shows of worship.  God is not interested in fasting and private piety.  Rather, God’s hunger is that we would do justice.  “Is not this the fast that I choose; to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?  Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”  I have to admit, some days I want to shout this from the roof tops!

          The implications in the Torah regarding “hiding yourself from your own kin” are profound.  To hide from your own kin is to pretend that some people do not exist.  It is to act as if some people are less than you.  It also implies making the assumption that someone else will care for those that are in need.  If we are all kin to each other in the family of God then we are all responsible for taking care of each other.  I can’t simply assume that it is someone else’s job to take care of these things.  This is my responsibility as much as anything.

          What is really scandalous in this reading from Isaiah is the notion that God’s treatment of us is directly affected by our treatment of each other.  After Isaiah lists all the things that make an acceptable fast, acts of justice, compassion, and care, he states “Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.”  Isaiah makes it clear that God will not stand with us in times of trouble if we refuse to stand with each other.

          It seems to me that there are two different Christiantys in this country right now.  One that is rising up under the banner of justice, and one that is aligning itself with the nationalism that is on the rise in our country.  On my Facebook feed this week, one of my conservative friends posted a message saying that Vice President Pence was asking everyone to pray for our country.  “If God’s people would humble themselves and pray, he will heal our land.”  It was all I could do not to start posting quotes from Old Testament prophets in the comments section.  Of course we should pray for our country.  But Isaiah makes it clear, it is not prayer God wants from us, it is actions of justice, actions of compassion, and actions of mercy.  These are the things that will heal our country and these are things that everyone on every side of every issue can do.  

          In Matthew we are looking at Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.  We are all familiar with Jesus’ call to his followers to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.  The thing that salt and light have in common is that they make a difference in every situation where they are present.  As the salt and light of the world, we are called to make a difference, in the tradition of the law and the prophets.  The prophet Isaiah has made it clear what kind of difference we are called to make, but that doesn’t necessarily make it any easier.

          Jill Duffield, editor of The Presbyterian Outlook, has some great insight into this when she writes:

“The temptation to hide under a bushel or in the basement or with our close, comfortable circles is intense when the world seems very, very dark. That's what we do when we get scared. We hunker down, do what we know, hide. When we see the vulnerable being trampled, our tendency is not to run out into the street and stand between them and the onslaught, rather it is to go into our homes and lock the door. This little light of mine, I am going to snuff it out so no one knows I am home.”

          I think our natural inclination is to take care of ourselves first.  As long as I am not personally affected by any of the strangeness going on in our country right now, than I am ok.  I can just sit back and watch from the sidelines.  “I don’t need to get involved,” we think “this really isn’t about me anyway.”  But of course, Isaiah would see that as a great example of “hiding oneself from our own kin.”  And it is certainly no way to be salt or light in our world.

          As the people of God we are called to do more.  To simply pray for God to change our lives and to change our country is not enough.  Rather, we are called to do acts of justice, we are called to work with God to implement change, and we are called to make a difference in the world around us.  Again Jill Duffield inspires when she writes,

“The word of Jesus from on high is in service for those being trampled underfoot. Jesus doesn't tell us to tend to our own, keep our heads down, keep our noses clean and our hides safe. We are told in Isaiah to shout out the rebellion, the apostasy, the injustice and exploitation of the vulnerable we see. We are to be as aggravating and irritating as salt in the wound of those who seek to hurt and destroy on God's holy mountain. We are to shine a flood light on evil, cruelty and meanness.  You are that salt: of the earth. You are that light: of the world. Shout. Irritate. Burn so brightly it hurts the eyes of those who proudly fast and worship but fail to feed and house.”

Isn’t that an interesting way to frame the call?  As those who follow Jesus we are called to irritate, we are called to burn brightly, we are called to make a difference in our world in such a dramatic way that we can’t be ignored.  It is a scary business in a dangerous world, but as those who would follow the one crucified and risen, we too are called to lift our own crosses and follow.

          This week I want to encourage you to go out into our world and make a difference.  You don’t have to stand on a street corner and protest, but you could.  You don’t have to call your representative in the legislature, but you could.  You don’t have to do anything big and loud and obnoxious in the name of God, unless you want to.  Being the salt of the earth can be something as simple as offering a smile and a helping hand to someone having a difficult day.  Being the light of the world can be as simple as donating a coat you don’t wear anymore to someone who might need a jacket this winter.  The only thing you can’t do, is to do nothing.  “If salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?  It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled underfoot.” 

          Over and over again, from the Old Testament to the New, God makes it clear what is expected of the people of God.  We cannot hide out.  We cannot just pray.  We cannot hide ourselves from our own kin and assume that this world is someone else’s problem.  “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice?”  May we go forth this day and get started, in some small way, loosening the bonds that tie our neighbors down.  Amen.

Making a Sacrifice

January 29^th, 2017      “Making a Sacrifice”                   Rev. Heather Jepsen

Micah 6:1-8 with Matthew 5:1-12

          Both of our readings this morning are fairly familiar for regular church goers.  We all know Matthew’s version of the beatitudes.  Blessed and the poor in spirit and blessed are the peacemakers.  We also are quite familiar with the famous line from Micah, reminding us that God calls us to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly.  This week, as I was approaching the texts again, I had some fresh ideas for some new ways to reinterpret these readings and challenge ourselves as followers of Christ.

          Known as one of the earliest Minor Prophets, Micah was active during the early 8^th century BC.  Micah was known for preaching against false religious practices.  Folks were claiming to be faithful by paying tithes to the temple, but when not in church they were continuing to make money on the backs of the poor.  Micah encouraged people to think of religion as an ethic of right living.  It’s about the things that you do, not just the things that you say.

          In chapter six, the community receives a condemnation from the Lord.  The people have fallen away from worship of God and ignored God’s decrees and commandments.  A sacrifice must be made for the people to be made right with God again.  The reader, through the voice of Micah, wonders aloud what sacrifice would be suitable for such an offering.  How should one come before the Lord?  The list of potential offerings grows more and more costly from thousands of rams, to rivers of oil, to finally the first born child.  Micah says famously, “no.”  “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

          Those of us in the liberal Protestant church tradition love this verse.  For many of us, this is a passage around which much of our faith revolves.  We are always trying to do justice, and act kindly, and to be humble; this is our mantra.  So, when we hear the reading from Micah we breathe a sigh of relief.  Does God require a costly sacrifice like thousands of rams or my very own child?  No, God just wants me to do justice.  Phew!  We say, “I already do that!”  And we go on our merry way.

          This week, rather than allowing myself to be comforted by these verses, I decided instead to view them as a challenge.  What if I am as guilty as the religious folks in Micah’s time, of paying lip service to the faith but not really living it?  What if I say I am all about justice and kindness and humility, because my mouth praises those things, but in reality my actions don’t support that? 

          At the crux of my thinking this week was sacrifice.  The person that Micah speaks to asks what kind of sacrifice can be made and Micah’s response is the justice, kindness, and humility line.  What if we challenged ourselves to see those things as a sacrifice rather than a motto?  What if I attempted to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly in such a way that it cost me as much as thousands of rams or my love for my child?  What would that life of faith look like?

          Let’s start with justice, and this is perhaps the most difficult.  The Hebrew word is mispat which implies a justice that is tied to the actions of people and not just the actions of God.  This isn’t simply hoping for the kingdom of God to come on earth, or even preaching about it, rather this is people working together for fairness and equality.  So the question arises, how do I, as a white middle class American woman practice justice in a way that is sacrificial?  Is it getting out of my comfort zone to speak publicly on causes of justice?  Is it distributing my own resources in the community in a way that is more just and fair?  Is it spending more time, leg work, and precious energy on the causes of justice?  Imagine with me, what a sacrifice in the name of justice might look like for you.  Not just saying yes, we value justice, but actually sacrificing something that you value in the name of that justice.

          The next task Micah calls us to, the next sacrifice he encourages us to make, is to love kindness.  Again the Hebrew is significant here as Micah is talking about hesed.  Hesed is not just about kindness but it also about love and faithfulness. What would that look like as a sacrifice in our lives?  Part of this is faithfulness to the covenant with God.  One thing that could mean for us is making a commitment to sacrifice our time and energy for the church and its missions.  Another idea could be making a sacrifice by standing up and declaring our faith in public places.  On a more personal level, this could be taking the time to deal with each other in kindness.  Even on those days when we are too busy, we could sacrifice our time to be with someone who needs companionship, or to help someone out with a favor.  What would a sacrifice of kindness look like in your life?

          The final thing Micah challenges us with is humility, and I have a feeling that this might be the most needed in our day and age.  The Hebrew word that Micah uses for humble could also mean careful.  Micah is challenging us to walk carefully with God in humility.  What would a sacrifice of careful humility look like in our modern day and age? 

          Right now we are an extremely divided nation.  When it comes to politics there is no middle ground and we often approach each other knowing that we are right and the other side is wrong.  What if we made a sacrifice of humility in this moment?  What if we chose to engage in more discussion, truly seeking to understand each other’s opinions and not trying to convince each other of the “rightness” of our own views?  What if we chose to open the door just a little bit to the possibility that we might not be right about everything?  Even if we can’t do that, we could choose to engage in more civil discourse in person and on the internet. 

          Imagine that you are holding hands with God all day every day this week.  Imagine that God is present in your every action.  Maybe you wouldn’t share that funny political meme or you wouldn’t make that extra comment about how foolish you think someone’s position is.  If you were walking carefully with God right beside you all day, how might you make a sacrifice of humility?

          Our reading from Matthew reminds us that Jesus too values those who take action for justice, love kindness, and practice humility.  Those who mourn for the state of the world will find comfort in their faith.  Those who are meek, who let others push and shove ahead, will be the ones who inherit the earth at the end.  Those who are hungry for righteousness will be filled.  Those who show mercy to others will be those who receive mercy.  Those that seek peace, even with their enemies, will be the ones who see God.  Those who make a sacrifice for justice, those who are persecuted for the name of Jesus Christ, will be the ones who are rewarded.     

          I think we can all admit that as a people, we have gone astray from the Lord.  Like the people of Micah’s time, I am certain that God would find fault with the people of modern America.  God has delivered us into salvation, and yet we have chased vainly after the idols of our time.  As a people we stand convicted and we must ask ourselves how we will come before the Lord?  What offering shall we bring?  Micah reminds us that we need not make a sacrifice of thousands of rams, rivers of oil, or the children we love so dear.  Rather we are called to make sacrifices of justice, sacrifices of kindness, and sacrifices of humility. 

          This week, I want us to consider what those sacrifices might look in our own lives.  What would it mean to live Micah 6:8 not simply as a motto of liberal Protestantism but rather as a call to action in these troubling times?  In the beatitudes of Matthew, Jesus reminds us that God’s preference, God’s blessings, are reserved for those who seek and act on behalf of others who are in need.  And Micah makes it clear where we stand.  “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  May we make sacrifices in the name of justice, kindness, and humility this week.  Amen.