Prayer banner in a public school

This is more of a threat to religious

freedom than

This

Used with permission of the artist ©2009 Darcy Falk check out her website for other great work http://darcyfalk.com

and educate folks about the upcoming Ash Wednesday service including the Imposition of Ashes.  “Imposition”?  It occurred to me that there might be a better word.  After all, how many of us are out there using that word every other day.  So, I did what I always do I pushed the little buttons on the computer to provide me with synonyms.  This is what I get: imposition = burden, nuisance, obligation, hassle, annoyance, bother.  What?  That can’t be right, so I checked it again, maybe I hadn’t pushed the right buttons.  And there it came again: imposition = burden, nuisance, obligation, hassle, annoyance, bother.  Then it hit me, “impose”.  I know that word.  I’ve used it: “I don’t mean to impose”.  Yep my computer thesaurus is correct.

Burden, nuisance, obligation, hassle, annoyance, bother.  Some folks would agree that’s what religion is all about.  Of course lots of us don’t want to hear that.  We like our religion that helps us, that gets us through the day.  There’s nothing wrong with faith as a crutch in this world.  But that’s only one piece of it.  The other is what is at the heart of Ash Wednesday.  The IMPOSITION of Ashes disrupts our daily denial of sin and death.   This is difficult and painful; it is very humbling. I think that’s why some folks may come to worship that night, but not step up.  It is uncomfortable to admit how badly we are broken.  How we are (as my 9 yr old son stated) dying every day.    But again, that’s only half of the picture.  The IMPOSITION of Ashes calls us to not give in to the fatalism of the moment.  We are called to graciously admit our human frailty and fatality, and we are called to live into the grace of God that abounds for us and for all.  Now that should really get in the way–the way we think, the way we  love, the way live.

Pic provided by Ms. Shayla Montgomery (a creative young lady and up & coming artist in our neighborhood)

Where does it hurt? As a mom, I’ve asked this hundreds times, if not more. I’ve been asked it too, where does it hurt? It is a logical question, we can’t always see what’s going on; we can’t see the problem. That, however, isn’t necessarily the case in our gospel story for this morning. After all, this guy is a leper. Now he may have suffered from the actual disease leprosy. Or he may not. That label was given to all sorts of conditions and diseases that we now know are not the same thing. But they didn’t. What the folks of his time and place did know though, was that one way of keeping disease at bay was to send the sufferer away. This also took care of any issues of guilt, because in their thinking the guy was probably being punished for something. That’s how it worked—so they thought.
So let’s see, where does he hurt? His body, for sure from the pain of disease. And his heart as well from the pain of unease, the pain of being cast aside and away, torn from mother, wife, brothers, children, aunts and uncles, from that guy who always lent a hand, and his other friend, the one who knew the best jokes. Where does it hurt? It hurts in the places they used to be.
Now before we get all high and mighty about how simple-minded and ignorant those bible-time folks were way back when, there’s a lot of folks walking around in pain today. Yeah sure, we all know someone struggling with disease or the conditions of aging. We know what it’s like to lose more friends than we make. Where does it hurt? Well right in our own homes, and in our families, in our own hearts—that’s where it hurts—even if it’s not all that obvious right away on the surface.
Like it is for others. You know the ones we’ve pushed to the curb so to speak. One thing about being the church here in town on our corner, we will probably see someone this morning. Some man or woman walking down the street (hopefully on the sidewalk). He may be just be walking, just to keep moving, to keep warm, to get to a meal site or some shelter. She may be walking these streets hoping to make some money for herself, for her kids, maybe even for some drugs. We don’t know; we can’t see all the pain. These are folks through the choices they made with the limited options they were given, who walk a different wilderness—not a desert far from rest of us, but a wilderness of loneliness where we can see, we can see some, at least some of where it hurts.
The thing about Jesus is though we don’t hear him ask the question. The man begging for his life simply says, “You know if you wanted to, you could do something about this.” So, Jesus raises his hand with the answer. But, his hand doesn’t shoot up in the air, but down to touch the man right where it hurts. Jesus could have just said—be clean, be healed—you know in that best authoritative lord and savior tone of voice. But that would have just removed one piece of the pain puzzle.
Instead Jesus does what, frankly a lot of us, would think at least twice before doing. He puts his hand on him, and I’m pretty sure this wasn’t some tap on the shoulder, keep your chin up old man. Jesus put his fingers, his palm, his hand on the man, he put it right where it hurt, in that lonely spot. Think of it this way, it’s just about as if Jesus kissed him and made it better. You know, like I’ve done so many times as a mom, as perhaps you’ve done as a parent, or perhaps your mom or dad did for you. You know that healing miracle of touch. Of course, every time we do that, we know the boo boo, the bruise, the cut—we know that the body will continue to repair, the blood will bring these wonderful white blood cells, and clotting agents, and ok that’s the end of my biology knowledge. We know the body will attend to the damaged tissues.
But when I’ve asked where does it hurt, and I’ve bent down and held my little one close and kissed him. There’s been a healing, and you know sometimes the hurt really does go away.
I remember one evening as child—I was probably a tween somewhere between 11 – 13ish, and I was upset. Ok I was crying—sitting in my room, on my bed sobbing. And that night, not my mom, but my dad came in, sat down next to me, talked to me, put his arms around me, and actually held me. The thing is, I remember all that. What I don’t remember is what brought me to tears that time. I don’t remember why I cried. Now I couldn’t tell you anymore where it hurt.
I think that’s what happened to that guy. He wasn’t running all around town, knocking on everybody’s door rehearsing his sufferings. Woe is me. He was done with that. Look where that had got him. So he isn’t telling us where it hurt. Instead he’s got a whole new story that whether Jesus likes it or not is gonna get out. The news is gonna spread that he’s been held and healed.
The thing is, wherever it hurts for us, Jesus is still reaching out to embrace and to heal—not just the broken bodies, but the broken hearts, the broken relationships, the broken trust, our broken communities, our broken world. Yeah, things may not on the surface look much better, but the healing is going on. It’s as if, when we come here together, when we are alone at night on our knees or in the very least in prayer, or walking down the street ourselves—the divine one of immense love bends down to kiss us and make it better.
Like I said though on the surface we may not notice the change at first, but Jesus is still doing this and when we look deeper at ourselves, at what’s going on here, we believe that Jesus is still doing this, and get this—he’s using us to be that touch.
When we offer more than just a handshake (nice to see you this morning). But in putting our hand-out we offered more, offered our hearts. We would stretch out not just an arm but a life. Now just a note. What Jesus did was risky and unconventional. What he did had consequences. The thinking back then was that Jesus was contaminated with the disease, with the punishment, with the guilt, with the consequences. Well, while we understand the spread of disease a whole lot better. By stretching out more than just our hand, it still takes more than a handy wipe. Things may get dirty, they may get messy, things would take longer. When we sit with, especially our elders, alone in their apartments, rooms in the nice nursing homes we’ve built for them to fill. You know it takes more to actually hold a hand in love and listen. If we really sit with and listen, not just to the superficial stuff of stories, but really look at each other, at the person who wanders in off the street, if we sit with someone at Community Night or our Lenten journey and really listen and look for where it hurts, things will change. We will be changed.
Jesus went to where it hurt, and the thing is he stayed there. The crowds forced him to stay outside of town—so that’s where he stayed. We stay there too because he stays in, with and through us. We stay so that one day, we can Jesus touches us, and frankly we don’t know where it hurts anymore. Alleluia. Amen.

Yeah,that’s the kind of home I came from.  No wonder I entered the ministry.

Putting all the inappropriate innuendo aside.  I’ve got to say “You’ve got a beautiful body.”

Yes, I mean you dear reader whoever you are, whatever size or shape or color or whatever you are.  You and your body are beautiful.

While our bodies are not perfect, we are rockin’ some amazing feats of mechanics, biology, chemistry, etc. and so forth. The body is part of God’s good and glorious creation.  It isn’t something to be ignored and despised.   But,     and this is a big but.  Our bodies are not to be worshipped.  Nor are they to be objectified. It seems we can’t get it right.  On one hand we abuse the body with all sorts of unhealthy living and activities.  On the other we judge people by their bodies.  In the church we have been guilty of separating the body from the soul.  We have exploited some body/spirit dichotomy.  It’s as if all we will hear on Sunday morning is Paul’s words about punishing his body to enslave it.  All our talk, preaching, and singing of disembodied souls reuniting with lost loved ones behind pearly gates misses God’s emphasis on healing in the present.  For the last several weeks many of us Christians have been hearing stories of healing from the Bible.  This coming Sunday is no exception.   Our first lesson tells us the story of Naaman’s healing from 2 Kings 5.1-14.  Our reading from Mark’s Gospel tells us that a  leper came to Jesus begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. (Mark 1:40-42)  God doesn’t despise the body and seek to simply free us from these earthly fleshy casings. God doesn’t despise her creation. Matter matters from the smallest drop of ocean water to richest and most influential celebrity and in between–everything and every body.

If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.
For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.

I’ve lost myself somewhere.  Sometimes that really is the way I feel.

Photographer: Sue Black, Gold Coast, Australia Website: http://sueblackphotography.com/ http://sueblackphotography.com/2010/10/hidden-distress-jpg/

The who I am, the what I believe from politics, faith, music, style all of that seems to get lost sometimes.   When I am with folks who see the world differently, I try to fit in.  In the conversations I have with people whether they are members of our congregation or not, I find that I am watching my tongue. I feel like I have to hide some pieces of myself.   I like to tell myself I’ve taken Paul’s words to the early church in Corinth to heart.  “I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.”   Now let me tell you this is hard work.  Some folks might tell me I’m being relativistic as if that’s taking the easy way out.  Again, let me tell you it takes an awful lot of control to not get up and walk out, but to sit with someone and hear words, statements, and beliefs that I disagree with due to my  my experience and faith.  It takes a toll to “be” something or someone that I am not.  When I want to just let loose, it takes so much energy to continue to listen, to hear some truth, to find common ground.  It would be so much easier just to hang out and just to serve those who agree with me 100%.   If I did that however, would I be challenged to change and grow in love and patience.   The goal of following Jesus isn’t just to fit in.  It is to change and transform, to be changed and to be transformed.  St. Paul didn’t just make people happy and comfortable in order to be liked.  He knew that for there to be a community (church) truly grounded in Christ it needs to be pulling, pushing, and prodding all people into God’s Way.  This isn’t accomplished through declarations, decrees, and laws.  Instead it is through engagement in deep and profound ways.  So as I go about my days the question I continually turn over and over again should be to whom am I losing myself?  Hopefully, the answer is to you my brothers and sisters for our sakes and for the sake of the Gospel.

Perhaps that is the main difference between true and false prophets. True prophets approach this task with humility, openness to God and to the people around them. True prophets are not eager to be heard. Often her words are difficult, not because they are are simply harsh, but because God’s Word is in the business of healing. True prophets know that they are part of the problem, that the call to renewal is directed to themselves just as much as it is to others.  Demons are real and  the systems we all are a part of  are broken.  Yet the ultimate goal is not destruction but reconstruction (resurrection).  Listening deeply to God’s Word of love and mercy and listening to one another allows us to speak with authority and authenticity.  To hear is to be heard.

Ok, here goes.  Now all of you who may happen to not be Packers fans, whether you favor some other football team, or maybe no football or any sport at all, think of something that really matters, something that has say sides, and in this day and age we have no shortage of sides to take—political (Democrat vs Republican), Walker or Recall supporter, fan of big business or occupy movement, rich vs poor, ELCA Lutheran/ and the others, internet  hackers, United States vs other country, free-market vs regulated capitalism, urban vs suburban, conservative vs progressive fundamentalists, oh my this list could go on and on.  You get the point.  Ok so getting back to the Packers as I said earlier I cheer the team on and even shout my words of advice, but one thing that gets me about this sport is all the taunting and excessive celebrating going on.  Yes, the players should perform well, that’s what they get paid to do, but do they need to get all up in the other teams and other fans face about it.  Of course, I’m not talking about the Lambeau leap.  But, I’ve had it with booing and taunting and the like.  Whatever happened to good sportsmanship—where the two opposing teams shake hands at the beginning or the end of a game?  After all its just a game, maybe one with fortunes and futures, but it’s a game.

But really I think it’s much more serious than just poor sportsmanship.  There’s something seriously wrong when we demean others, when we taunt them, paint them as worthless and the enemy something to just be conquered, an obstacle in our political or economic agenda.

Of course you’ve heard me say it before, there is nothing new under the sun,  and the scripture story about the prophet Jonah is a perfect example.  Sunday school and artwork loves to focus on Jonah in the belly of the whale or fish, as if Jonah were this great example of faith, when it’s exactly the opposite.  Now I’m not going to spend a lot of time getting into it, but Jonah gets thrown overboard and swallowed up by the great big sea monster not because he’s so good, but because the opposite is true.  Jonah is running away from God, and you want to know why.  It’s because God wants Jonah to go to Nineveh. Jonah hates the Ninevites—the Assyirians.

Now we could try and excuse Jonah’s bad behavior  by imagining that Jonah had a bad experience in Ninevah or met some mean Assyrians.  But really this is a case of outright prejudice, racism, fear, envy.  Simply put, the Assyrians are the foreigners, big and powerful bully country on the block, the enemy.  If that’s all that was going on here there wouldn’t be a problem.  Jonah as God’s prophet could march over there yell at them, shake his fist, do some chanting and singing about God smiting the Ninevites.  However, and I have to give Jonah a bit of credit, he knows—he believes– that God is merciful and loving.   Put that all together and you get Jonah a very reluctant prophet eventually making it to Nineveh, and this is where we get the words of our short first reading.

The missing verses 6 – 9 tell of how even the powerful and mighty king repented turned away from sin and directed to have everyone even the animals put on sack cloth (that’s a way of showing how sorry they are, and turning towards God).  Then we learn that God changes God’s mind and doesn’t destroy Ninevah.

But the story really isn’t just about Ninevah; it’s also about Jonah.  So what do you think Jonah does, what happens to him when he realizes God isn’t going to send hellfire and brimstone and smite those evil nasty Assyrians?   Do you think he jumps up and down and shouts glory hallelujah, God is great, giving thanks that God is merciful and slow to anger, full of loving kindness.  Not exactly.  Jonah gets mad, mad at God, and says something like, “See I told you; I knew this would happen”.  Jonah gets all angry, mad, depressed, and pouts.  You see Jonah is not a man of the Bible we should model ourselves after.  He’s one of those bad examples.  And the story really isn’t just about Ninevah or him, but about our God, and the God who loves all of us on both or on all sides of the political, racial, economic, geographic, jersey divides.

I meant team jersey and not the state or the tv show.  Now of course those examples may seem pretty trite when you really think about it, but they are excellent examples or symptoms of what is wrong with our world today.  This world values being right more than righteous; we want to have it our way all the time, we want to win at all costs. We, even Christians, are allowing our fear and anger to rule our hearts, minds, words, and deeds.  I don’t know about you, but it sure doesn’t seem like Jesus called the disciples to go and trounce the enemy, take names, and kick some –you know where that’s headed, and it’s definitely not in the gospel direction.  This week we heard as Jesus calls Peter and other disciples, and last week we talked about Jesus’ call for us young and old, rich and poor, all of us to follow him as disciples.  Well today we see what that looks like, and folks it isn’t just showing up for worship (going to church) every once-in-awhile or even every Sunday for that matter.  That’s a start.

Jesus calls us be the church, that radical embodiement of God’s love each and every day.  You can’t check your faith at the door of the office, the car, the school, polling both, your homepage or facebook.  It’s not just a box you check on your profile.  It’s who you are all the time.  And take it from Jonah it isn’t easy because at the heart of it, it means that the person or group of people that annoy you, that get under your skin, that get your goat, that you mildly or wildly dislike—let’s quit mincing and hiding behind words here.  The person or folks you hate, being a disciple is all about loving them just as God does.

So when you came in this morning you received a piece of paper.  This is not a test, it’s there for you to use if you wish.  Personally, I find I can remember things better and become real when I hold them in my hand.  Well I invite you to write this, that or the other person’s name on that top line.  Remember while this is homework, you don’t have to turn it in, so you don’t write your name, just theirs—can be an individual or a group of people., take that paper with you (it’s not for me or anyone else but you and God to see) and I want you to really think about and pray, try and spend real time in prayer with that person.  I said it exactly the way I meant it.  This isn’t the type of prayer where we say, “O by the way God I have this enemy, so why don’t you God change so and so, so that they think, act, better”.

Don’t get me wrong it would be awesome if all those folks out there treating others like garbage would change, turn from their ways.  But, as Jesus told all his disciples including us we need to attend to our own sin too.  As a follower of Christ we are to love our enemy, and that means carry them around with us in our hearts, listen, be open to them, to see the image of God within them, not to dismiss and demean them.  Now I gave you a simple way to remind you to do that every day, and a place where you can write down any thoughts, feelings, etc. and so forth, and you can be honest.  Jonah was so honest he asked God to strike him down dead he was so mad.  But perhaps as you jot down some things you may notice a change not necessarily in the name on your sheet, but in your own heart.  My door, cell phone, or email is always open if you need or want to share anything with me as your pastor.  So, just remember this one thing:  if God can change God’s mind, I’m pretty sure that we can change ours.  Amen.

It also became a means for me to cross all those racial, economic divisions.  Just about everyone who passed thanked me for my shoveling; at least one gentlemen asked me to be careful and not to hurt my back.  Another young man offered to help, but he was on his way to try to get to work.  Through the power of the Spirit even simple snow shoveling becomes a blessing.

It didn’t happen up here at the altar, and I’m not a young boy, but I know what young Samuel was going through. Just last week, at about mile 11 in the half-marathon, I’m rounding the corner and heading up an overpass about to run into Epcot park, and I thought I heard someone call my name. I tried to look around, because I thought I heard it again even over the sound of the music playing in my earphones, and it was different from the anonymous person cheering me on, reading my name off my race tag. No, it sounded like someone was really calling out my name to get my attention, saying it over and over again. The thing is I knew it wasn’t Brad and the boys they were going to stay back at the hotel, but it could have been one of the at least three other folks from Milwaukee I knew running that day too. So in my attempt to find out who was yelling Donna, Donna, Donna I turned completely around 180 degrees and started running backwards.
So, I know that confusion Samuel felt hearing his name being called over and over again. It took old Eli’s words, his guidance and wisdom to tell the boy to stop running and listen—to utter one of the best prayers ever spoken by the faithful—“Speak Lord, your servant is listening”. God was calling Samuel. This young person named after the God who heard the prayers of his—Samuel (meaning God hears or God has heard), now he was to listen to the call of God.
There are several things that are good for us to pay attention to in these words, this story—because God is still calling, God is still speaking, but sometimes (a whole lot of times, if we’re honest) we don’t listen. I think one of the main things that keeps us from hearing God’s voice is that we think so very little of ourselves. God couldn’t possibly have a word for me or for our little congregation; God couldn’t possibly want me want us to do something. Maybe we think we are too young or too old, too small but Samuel was young and Eli was old—and it took both of them to hear and discern the call.
Maybe we think calls are only for those special spiritual giants people with names like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., whose birthday is today. Or Martin Luther, or Moses, Paul, Philip, Nathanel, (from today’s Gospel reading) and Peter, James, and John who we’ll hear about next Sunday leaving their boats. Yes, there are those biggies. There are those folks who seek out or are found by the spiritual spotlight, but that doesn’t mean God’s call is limited to them. No, we believe that the call to be a disciple, the call to follow Jesus, the call to be an actor, be a factor is to all of us. God is calling you.
Another problem though is that it is hard to hear God’s voice amidst all the other noises. It would be so awesome if God’s voice rang out crystal clear like a bell, silencing everything else. Perhaps you’ve experienced what I’m about to share with, as a mother—if I am away from my kids—say they are on a playground or outside, and I hear “mom”. My ears perk up and I am at attention, I am alert to that cry—that call—even though sometimes it may be from some other child. It would be great if we could hear God that closely, that clearly, and be attentive.
Of course there’s the opposite experience as well. Where I as Mom can tune out and tune off that lets call it repetitive whine, that badgering, and begging of a certain young one. You know when I want to be left alone, or when I have do something else, or when I know it’s not really that earth-shattering important. We are pretty good at tuning out the stuff we don’t want to hear. We like to turn away from what disturbs us—from what we don’t want to see. All the bad news, the unpleasantness. So maybe we put in headphones, or listen to our favorite radio station, or watch videos on youtube or tv. Or just turn the tv off and go read a book. Sometimes, wee go out with friends and try to move to better neighborhoods.
Perhaps with all that turning away we are missing God’s call to turn around. You see, God’s call doesn’t always or even mostly come in the comfortable and in the pretty. It’s not just the beautiful sunset and beautiful tones of sacred music which contain God’s voice. You see God’s call isn’t for us to just continue on as is. It isn’t for us to seek out our own pleasure. This is what our faith teaches, within the persistent cries and whines of a child God is calling me to lead, to guide, and to raise a child to become a person who is respectful and caring of others. God’s voice is heard in the cries of the oppressed, the hurting, the lonely, the abused. Our calling is to have a hand in ensuring that from the oldest to the youngest, from the richest to the poorest that as preacher and theologian Peter Gomes says, “People may take everything away from you, they may deprive you of everything you have of value, but they cannot take away from you the fact that you are a child of god and bear the impression of God in your very soul. You cannot be destroyed and that cannot be denied.”
You see, God’s call does come to us, and does call us to stop and turn around. We stop going through life as if it’s just about us, as if it’s just about getting by or even getting ahead. We don’t have to think that following Jesus is just about, about leaving it all behind in some dramatic way—that can no longer be our excuse. God’s voice, God calling our name is calling us to drop those things that entangle and ensnare us—that hold us back—whether it’s drugs, or racism, or poverty, anger, or grief. God’s got more in store for us in this life, God’s calling us to listen. Amen.