Eternal Salvation, Present Salvation

Luke 19:1-10

Zacchaeus got me wondering this week: if Jesus were alive and walking around today, whose house would he stay at? It certainly wouldn’t be the pastor, nor would it be any of you who frequent the church; it wouldn’t be the well-liked people in town or the people who work respectable jobs. If Jesus sticks to the formula of finding a tax collector or other sinner he would come into town and find the person who was defrauding the most from others in the community; he would find the person that nobody likes; the person universally despised, and that is where Jesus would stay.

            Now, do you understand why people thought this was crazy? We’re not going to name names here, but you probably all have an image in your head of a kind of person (or even a specific person) in town. It’s almost impossible to imagine Jesus seeking out that person to stay with him or her. Further, Zacchaeus seems like he got off with a relatively light sentence here. I mean, earlier in Luke a rich man comes to Jesus and Jesus tells him he must go and sell everything. But here is Zacchaeus apparently acquiring salvation for the small price of half of what he owns and four times what he has defrauded. Last I checked half and all are very different amounts.

            Has Luke forgotten the story he just told?

The Courage to be Humble

From the Hallock ecumenical men's breakfast. Theme: Courageous men in scripture 

 

            I begin just about every one of the sermons I preach with our reading for this morning from Psalm 19:14: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Well, that might not seem like a verse that has much to do with courage, but courage in the Bible is a lot more than picking up a rock and killing a giant. It’s more than going before Pharaoh and saying “Let my people go;” it’s more than following Jesus out on to the water and more than a night in a lion’s den. Those are our primary images of courageous men in scripture. We don’t have biblical sports stars, but we do have King David, Moses, Daniel, Abraham, Solomon—religious and political leaders.

            And then there’s Jesus. Of course, it’s easy to talk about courage and Jesus. Savior of the world, died on a cross for us, gave the ultimate sacrifice; courageous, no doubt. But the way that Jesus was courageous was not the same as David or Moses. Jesus was courageous in denying the need to so desperately hold on to life, humbling himself to the point of death. It takes profound courage to be humble, especially when you are on the right side of a question, especially—one would assume—when you are the God of the world.

10 or 12 out of 1700: The false arithmetic of salvation

Luke 16:19-31

Well, today is my chance to go fire and brimstone on you… but I’m not going to do it. There’s a problem with trying to make the story of Lazarus and the rich man into a fire and brimstone Gospel: there’s nothing about repentance in this story—nothing. It doesn’t say repent or burn, as we can imagine any number of preachers and prophets saying. Furthermore, the fire and brimstone message seems inconsistent with the Gospel of Luke. In this very same Gospel, Jesus has said A) you are rich and you can never give enough away, and B) rich people are tormented for eternity in hell. Doesn’t it suddenly seem like a long time since we were singing “What a fellowship, what a joy divine?”

The Prodigal Son and God's Economics

Text: Luke 15:1-32

            Inside of us we all have an idea of what is fair. Now, we may not always listen to that inner referee, and we all may have somewhat different conceptions of fairness, but most of us know what fair looks and smells like. And this time of the year it seems like every story from the Gospels sets off our unfair detectors. Jesus does not seem to have the same innate sense of fairness that we do, which is strange when you think about it. What can we say when the Savior of the world doesn’t think like we do? We like to craft gods into our own image, but in Jesus we have a Savior who does not think or act like us at all. It’s a little strange.

            Part of our problem is that we live life as if it is one big budget sheet. Those of you who handle money are going to know exactly what I’m talking about, but even if you can’t make or follow a budget if your life depended on it you actually live like this too most of the time. When it comes down to it we make most choices in life by assessing cost versus benefit. Why do we choose to exercise rather than sit on the couch? Because the immediate discomfort of exercise will make us fitter and feel better in the long-term. Why do we choose to go bowling on a weekend? Because the cost of taking the family bowling is worth the enjoyment. Why do we choose not to steal somebody’s wallet or drive off with one of those vehicles that are running outside the Farmer’s Store? Because the benefit of the wallet or the car is not worth the potential cost of getting caught and harming our neighbors. Why do we go to church in the morning? Well, maybe we won’t get into that.

A Pastor's Biggest Fear

            There’s no playbook on how to be a pastor. I mean this in little ways; I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said or thought, “Seminary certainly didn’t prepare me for that!” But I also mean it in big ways, particularly about how to be a leader in this big thing that we call the church. Now, don’t get me wrong: we learn a bit about leadership in seminary, but it is one of those things that it sometimes seems like you get or you don’t, and even the lessons we learn can fade over time.

            Here’s where I’m going with this: I have a single greatest fear as a pastor. I have plenty of small fears—mostly things that are personal quibbles—but I have one big fear. It’s this: I’m afraid that I will lose my edge over time. That might sound like a strange fear, but I think it’s a very real one. Part of what makes a pastor effective (it seems to me) is that he or she is willing to go places that you don’t often go in normal life. I don’t just mean talking about Jesus; I also mean naming some of the realities that we know but that make us uncomfortable. Part of my job is to talk about (in no particular order): death, sin and the things that we put before God. I wouldn’t be a very good pastor if I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t be a very good pastor if I didn’t talk about things that we need to talk about but do not feel comfortable saying anywhere else.

There are no "good" people: Your typical cheery Lenten sermon

Text: Luke 13:1-9, 31-35

            I don’t know about you but it seems to me that as bad as television has gotten the worst thing on TV has got to be the nightly news. It’s a little different out of Grand Forks but in the Twin Cities it’s so-and-so was murdered, such-and-such tragedy happened somewhere in the United States, bad weather is coming, the economy is crumbling, gas prices are rising, these countries are at war. You know the story. It’s always the same. It’s amazing any of us get by in such an awful world. I’m joking, of course, but you do get that sense from the nightly news that the world is an awful place that is out to get us.

            A few years back I was at a friend’s cabin for the 4^th of July and for some reason the nightly news was on the television. I suggest not trying this, but if you do happen to have around twenty people in a room watching the news just notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. Twenty people will go from enjoying a beautiful summer day off at the cabin to depression and anxiety and silence. I remember thinking, “Somebody please turn it off!”

Rejoice, Pray, Give Thanks -- Lent, week one

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

¹⁶Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Rejoice always, pray always, give thanks always—that’s what Jesus wants for you. Simple enough. Then again, this is one of those little Bible verses that, if we’re honest with ourselves, brings out our inner nine-year-olds. It’s just not fair!

            I mean, it’s great to rejoice and to give thanks when we get what we want, but rejoicing when things are just “meh” or giving thanks when the referees, who are always out to get us by the way, ruin another closely contested game for our favorite sports team. That’s just not right; it’s just not fair. Giving thanks requires justice. It’s hard to imagine rejoicing after a bad storm or a fire or a bad accident, giving thanks after a premature death or in the midst of poverty or a recession. It’s hard to imagine praying without ceasing when God seems completely absent.