AfterWords: "Towards Jerusalem: Rich Man, Poor Man"

 

Luke 16:19-31

Too many have read this parable as a definitive statement about the rich and the poor, as a story discounting the wealthy and elevating the poor. Others have tried to use this as a doctrinal statement about the end-times and the afterlife ("eschatology"). Since we North Americans are wealthy in comparison to much of the world, perhaps it’s a good thing this is not a story directed against the “wealthy.” And as far as being an “eschatological” text, it’s about as eschatological as, “A guy died and went to heaven, and when he got to the pearly gates, St. Peter stopped him and asked….”

While the purpose of this parable differs from those common misperceptions, we do find an overriding theme: What we do here and now impacts our eternity there and then.

While you and I can probably name a dozen rich and famous people, the lack of name given to “the rich man” is yet another example of Jesus turning the world on its head. At the same time, we may be hard pressed to name a dozen…or five…or three…or even one person who is broken, destitute…yet, Jesus knows him by name: Lazarus.

So, what did “the rich man” do to end up in Hades? Did he have some deep, dark, evil sin? He does not end up in Hades because of anything he has done. So, why? The rich man ends up in Hades because of what he did not do, because of what he refused to do, because he did nothing.

At the gates of his house lies a beggar, Lazarus, who has nothing and no one. Could our rich man not have given Lazarus at least a simple, rough wool blanket…to keep the dogs from licking his sores? Could our rich fellow not have given Lazarus at least some rice and beans, some bread and olive oil? At the very least, could he not have simply acknowledged the existence of Lazarus?

The rich man’s sin was this—he closed his eyes and ears to the sights and sounds of need around him. He did nothing to alleviate the poverty that faced him each day. Nothing.

This past week, the RGV was slammed by an unexpected and destructive storm. Flood waters damaged houses, ruined automobiles, closed businesses, and destroyed dreams. Those of us who live in the RGV are now surrounded by people who suffer because of this storm.

So, how do we respond? A few weeks ago, Jesus told us the story of “the good Samaritan.” That parable calls us to be kind to those in need. We may think that what we have to offer is ‘too little’ or ‘insignificant.’ I imagine the lad who came forward with five loaves and two fish thought the same thing, yet God used his gift to feed 5000 people.

We do what we can. We cannot fix every situation. We may not even make a huge dent in the problem. But, we can do something. We can give, we can clean, we can cook, we can serve, we can listen—we do what we can. When we do what we can, God is honored, and lives are touched in profound ways. Unlike the rich man in Jesus’ parable, let’s open our eyes and ears and respond somehow—cleaning supplies, clothes, a helping hand, food, money, a listening ear. Let’s do something. Because the something we do here and now will have eternal consequences there and then.

Amen.

Sunday, March 30, 2025
“Towards Jerusalem: Rich Man, Poor Man”
Watch/Listen: HERE

AfterWords: "Towards Jerusalem: Lost and Found"

 

Luke 15:1-7

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem where everything will come to a climax. Along the way, he encounters all kinds of people—some with earnest, heart-questions; some attempting to undermine Jesus’ broad portrayal of God’s love.

In the passage today, those pesky Pharisees and Teachers of the Law are questioning Jesus’ welcome to and association with “tax-collectors and sinners.” They remark that “he even eats with them.” Woah. But, from their worldview, that was just one burger (or kebob) too far.

Jesus responds with not one, not two, but with three parables. As far as I know, no where in the Gospels does Jesus react or respond so forcefully. The parables are about “lostness”—and being lost. The first (in the reading for this Sunday) is about a lost sheep. The second concerns a lost coin. And, the third focuses on a lost son. In each case, the object of lostness—a sheep, a coin, a son—is found and there is great rejoicing. 

While the parables are all about lost things/peoples, the listeners themselves are lost. The tax-collectors are lost in the web of greed and the machinations of the Roman occupiers. The “sinners” are lost in their own selfishness or egotism, have wandered away from God. The Pharisees and Teachers of the Law are lost in their own narrow, tunnel-vision world that prevents them from seeing people as people, and all of them loved of God.

In the 21^st Century, we don’t get lost so much geographically—our smartphones keep us on the right road and give us plenty of warning about upcoming turns. But we still get lost. We get lost in online apps, in partisan television news, in social and theological issues. And, we get lost inside ourselves…in fears, comparisons, and compulsions.

“Lost” in Scripture is when we are away from God. We are “found” when we are with God. Away from God, not listening to God, not walking with God, not talking with God—Lost. Striving to hear God, walking with God, moving towards God, listening to God—Found.

In this encounter and in the parables Jesus tells here, good news comes in several ways. First, all are welcome to come to Jesus. He’ll sit and talk and share his french-fries with anyone. Then, no matter how lost we become, the Shepherd is looking for us…and won’t give up until we’re found—we matter that much to God. Finally, we all know someone who is lost. The Shepherd is looking for her or him as well…and won’t give up until he/she is found. We can rest in this—the broad, open, searching, welcoming love of God…forever, for everyone. Amen.

Sunday, March 23, 2025
“Towards Jerusalem: Lost and Found”
Watch/Listen: HERE

AfterWords: "Towards Jerusalem: A Patient God"

 

Luke 13:1-9

The reading for this Sunday is grouped among those “difficult” readings from the Gospels. This event is really the conclusion—of sorts—of all that happens and is said in the previous chapter (Luke 12). In that chapter, Jesus talks about the false or misleading teachings of the Pharisees; the impotence of wealth before the realities of death; the misguided focus of people on appearance and possessions; the lackadaisical view towards life; the inability to make sense of the times; and that other hard passage about Jesus bringing not peace but division.

After all of these (above), someone tells Jesus about “the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices”—a fine euphemism for, Pilate killed the Galileans as they offered sacrifices at the Temple. Jesus’s response does two things:

1) Jesus forever debunks the idea that disaster is God’s punishment of sin. “I tell you, no!”

       …and…

2) Jesus calls for a life of repentance.

The first is important. Too often we see some disaster—in the lives of others or ourselves—and think, what did they do wrong or what did I do wrong that God is punishing them or me. Jesus here forever silences—we hope!—that kind of thinking. Bad things do happen in our broken world, but this is not how God responds to our sin.

Then, Jesus calls repentance—an idea in Greek that is understood as to change thinking and behavior; a linear, continuing action. Since Luke 13 is a continuation of the action or narrative from Luke 12, the change Jesus calls for refers specifically to those issues and themes we find in Luke 12: stop looking for life in the words of the Pharisees, in the limited power of wealth, in appearance and possessions, in disinterested approaches to life.

Finally, Jesus tells the parable of the barren fig tree to drive things home. Life is not guaranteed, so repent—change your thinking and behavior. Our lives have purpose just like a fig tree, so start bearing fruit, start making life count.

This passage is a call to embrace change, to do things differently—not because we may die in our sleep tonight but because we are created with purpose and we need to live into that purpose.

 

Sunday, March 16, 2025
“Towards Jerusalem: A Patient God”
Watch/Listen: HERE

AfterWords: "Towards Jerusalem: Call to Compassion"

 

Luke 10:25-37

Something inside of us longs for eternity, for “foreverness.” Our scientists and physicians do all they can to prolong our lives, to give us one more day. Evidently, this is something we humans have longed for since the beginning. Our reading today has an expert in the law asking Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

At first glance, he seems to asking about living forever, but when we dig a little deeper, we discover that the word we translate “life” in this passage is the word zoe--a specific word for a specific type of life. This is not a question about an unending physical life. This is about life with meaning, purpose, depth, and durability. This is about having a life that is beyond us, that outlives our mortal, temporal bodies. Benjamin Franklin hints at this type of life: “Many people die at twenty-five and aren't buried until they are seventy-five.”

Amazing teacher the Jesus is, he turns the question back on the man asking, a man who without missing a beat declares the answer to his own question: Love God with all your being and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus affirms the answer and tells him, “Do this, and you will live.” Life this agape-loving life, and you will have the life you are looking for, a life of purpose and direction.

But, this expert in the law—like many of us—is looking for some wiggle-room, an out, so he asks Jesus to explain this word: “neighbor.” In response, Jesus tells a story. He sets up the people for a shocking reversal. We have patterns and devices we use, like those jokes: One day, a priest, a minister, and a …. And what? Did you suggest “rabbi”? You’d be right. We know the pattern. The Jewish people had a pattern, a device, as well: Priests, Levites, and the People. They are grouped together and mentioned this way in the Old Testament.

The people listening to the parable thought Jesus was getting ready to make the ordinary Jewish people the heroes of this story. The priest passed by, the Levite passed by…and they await Jesus’ inclusion now of the ordinary person stepping up to the task. But, no. Jesus flips the tables on them, so to speak, and makes a Samaritan a hero. This Samaritan attends to his neighbor—to the person near him in need. He responds to this inconvenient situation with extravagant compassion: cloth, oil and wine, time carrying the fellow, and money besides to cover expenses.

Jesus uses this encounter and parable to teach us how to find life, real life, meaningful life, lasting life. We keep our eyes open and step up to help those who are near to us. We respond to the needs of others near us. We embrace inconvenient compassion.

May we keep our eyes open for opportunities of living this kindness and compassion for others. When we do, we find life. After seeing how this Samaritan responds to the need of another, Jesus tells us, “Go and do likewise.”

Sunday, March 9, 2025
“Towards Jerusalem: Call to Compassion”
Watch/Listen: HERE

AfterWords: "Towards Jerusalem - The Journey Begins"

 

Luke 9:28-36

This past Sunday was “Transfiguration Sunday,” a day that celebrates and marks a significant shift in Jesus’ ministry. Two things happen around this passage that catch our attention.

First, we have the “transfiguration” moment—when Jesus’ appearance is changed. Luke says, “…the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning” (9:29). Other Gospel writers say “…he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light” (Matthew) and “…he was transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them” (Mark). We get the idea—something changed, visibly, significantly, as Jesus encounters Moses and Elijah on this mountain.

The second thing that happens is that Jesus begins to set his eyes on Jerusalem. From this point in the Gospels, Jesus begins to speak of his suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection. He will remind his disciples (and us) that this is all coming to a head soon…and it’s all going to happen in Jerusalem.

While I mentioned in the sermon that we find at least a half-dozen themes in this passage that are sermon-worthy, I was struck by something I had not noticed before in my reading of this passage.

The disciples followed Jesus when he called them, and we can imagine that there was great hope on their part that this rabbi, this different-kind-of-teacher and healer, just might be the long-awaited Messiah. In the stories of the times, the Messiah would reestablish the throne of David, would return Israel to its former splendor…or perhaps to something even greater. This was the hope.

In and around this passage, the disciples learn in no uncertain terms that 1) Jesus is the Messiah and 2) things are not going to play out as they had imagined. Instead of the glory of a new Israelite kingdom, the future is marked with suffering, rejection, death, and some sort of new life.

The most amazing thing about this moment in Jesus’ ministry, the very miracle of this moment, is that the disciples are still there. After hearing about how it all ends, they are still there. With Jesus on a cold mountainside in the early morning or late evening, hearing again about Jesus’ “departure,” they are still there. Things will not end as planned, as hoped, as dreamed, yet they are still there. Why? Why do they remain?

I believe they found in Jesus what we find in Jesus: They are hearing the words of life. They are finding direction and purpose for their lives. They are changing the lives of others around them. With Jesus, they are bringing healing and hope and joy to people whose lives have been burdened with illness, brokenness, loss, hopelessness. They are finding real and meaningful life in and with Jesus.

Even when our lives do not come together as we had hoped, as we had prayed, we stay with Jesus because in Jesus we find life. When life seems to be falling apart, we stay with Jesus because of the peace Jesus brings in the storms of life. When we are dismayed by all that is happening in the world around us, we say with Jesus because Jesus points us to a different Kingdom, a different (better!) way of living and responding to the world around us.

Perhaps we should rename this Sunday “Transformation Sunday,” because the real miracle of this passage is how Jesus transforms lives in midst of the brokenness of this world, even through the brokenness of this world with its dashed hopes and shattered dreams.

Sunday, March 2, 2025
“…Shared Ministry: Outside the Lines”
Watch/Listen: HERE

AfterWords: "These Three Remain...."

 

I Corinthians 13:13

Corinth[1]—

·       Where the Lord’s Supper turns into an orgy

·       Where the congregation cheers the fellow who moves in with his newly single stepmom

·       Where the fascination with languages leads people to forget what’s being said

·       Where steaks are not steaks—some are Jason’s best, and some are Aphodite’s or Apollo’s tainted portion

·       Where spiritual gifts are a local competition instead of a shared ministry….

Corinth—In this city we find a gathering of Jesus People who merit not one, not two, but at least three letters. And, these letters are not brief, not simple. These long letters reflect and address the multicultural complexities of a rapidly growing metropolis. Paul does his best to herd the cats, I mean, the Christians of this vibrant center of commerce. He does his best to help them make sense of living this newfound faith fiercely pagan city.

 

Corinth—Like his Lord, Paul does his best to reduce things for them to the simplest ideas. Do you remember how Jesus does this?

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

Jesus provides this reduction for those striving to live within Judaism. Paul turns around and does the same favor for the Jews and Gentiles in Corinth who are trying to figure how to live the faith in their setting.

We don’t often notice that it’s a great reduction, and we seldom understand it clearly. You may recognize the words:

“These three remain: Faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.”
(1 Cor. 13:13)

We usually think of these words as the culmination of the “Love Chapter,” but if we read carefully, this is the culmination of four chapters of guiding the Corinthians into mature living. In this one verse Paul reduces things down to these three—three ways of thinking and doing (they have nothing to do with feelings in the original Greek). 

• Faith—truly trusting in who God is and what God says…and living as if we truly trust. This is about not being afraid. 
• Hope—seeing where God is leading and trusting God to act but also taking steps in that direction. This is about rejecting determinism. 
• And, Love—deciding to selflessly live a life of loving-kindness towards others, to sacrifice self that others might have life. This is about rejecting self-centeredness. 
  
  

Paul had seen his Lord do these things, and Paul followed in his steps.

Perhaps what we need today in our own exploding, multicultural cities and towns is to hold on to these three eternal foundations of life in Christ—faith, hope, and love, and may we hold on to them as desperately as did the early Corinthians.

And now, may “the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit” (II Cor. 13:14) be with us all.

Amen. 

 

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[1] A reflection written and presented in the ancient city of Corinth while touring Paul’s ministry sites in the eastern Mediterranean/Aegean Seas in February 2025.

AfterWords: “Does ‘Passing Through’ Matter?”

 

Acts 21:1

Rhodes[1]—In the centuries before Christ, the city with the same name and the island itself, was a significant center of trade in the Roman Empire. Rhodes boasted banks, traders, and no insignificant military as well. A military victory led them to celebrate with the construction of a 100’ bronze statue of the Sun god—the Colossus, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.

An ill-placed earthquake brought down the bronze statue, standing on the wrong side of history in the Third Macedonian War brought about Rome’s wrath (and their economic demise), and the great center of trade dwindled down to a shadow of its former brilliance. By the time Paul arrived in the 1^st Century AD, historians would write that he came to “a beautiful city with a glorious past.” (Substitute ‘church’ for ‘city,’ and we’d have a fair descriptor of too many of our churches today….)

 

Rhodes—This island is mentioned two or three times in Scripture. In Ezekiel 27, we find it in a list of trading powers/partners with ancient Tyre. In I Maccabees 15, a letter is sent by a Roman consul there. And, in Acts 21, we find our intrepid church-planter there as Luke tells:

“And when we had parted from [the leaders of the Ephesian church] and set sail, we came by a straight course to Cos, and the next day to Rhodes, and from there to Patara….” (Acts 21:1)

Basically, Rhodes—in the biblical narrative—is little more than a footnote, just a place mentioned in passing like we might or might not mention a small town we would have to drive through going from one significant city to another.

 

Rhodes—As we stand on this footnote of the biblical story, two thoughts come to my mind.

First, what we find here, what is confirmed in all of our stops and tours since we began a week ago, is that power, wealth, and the beauty we create are all fleeting. Beautiful, powerful, wealthy cities of the past are for the most part now buried under 10’ or 20’ of soil in this part of the world. We would do well to remember this when we stand in our own beautiful cities—cities with brightly lit skyscrapers, soaring apartment towers, and sprawling homes. These will all be gone in 2,000 years. We are seeing ancient cities constructed of stone, of marble…and they are gone. How much sooner our 21^st Century world constructed of plywood, sheetrock, and vinal siding….

Then, the second thought is really a question: Does ‘passing through’ matter? That’s all Paul did—at least as far as we know from Luke. The ship they traveled on stopped at Rhodes. Since the buffet on their ship was closed, they had to come ashore for food. And, since their radar was glitchy, they probably spent the night and awaited the light of day for safe travel. Was anything or anyone changed for Paul’s having passed that way? Did he speak a word of encouragement? Did he smile and greet someone in passing? Did offer any words of hope…or did he help someone with the load they were trying to get on or off the ship? We don’t know.

Today, do we take the opportunity given us to intentionally, positively impact those around us by allowing the selfless, outward-facing loving-kindness of Jesus to be expressed in our words or deeds? Paul may or may not have missed an opportunity—we don’t know. Luke simply doesn’t say. We’re here today—wherever we are—‘just passing through.’ Let’s not waste an opportunity.

Amen.

 

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[1] A reflection written and presented on the island of Rhodes while touring Paul’s ministry sites in the eastern Mediterranean/Aegean Seas in February 2025.