No hero here: October 26, 2025

Luke 18: 9-14                                                                 Year C, Pentecost 19                                                        

              Every time stewardship Sunday comes up, I look at the readings with a little more trepidation than usual.  Early on in my ministry I made a promise to myself that I would always preach the text of the day. I felt that would hold me accountable, rather than just talking about what I wanted to talk about on any given day.   Sometimes, that is really inconvenient, especially today, because it’s hard to fit a stewardship sermon into these texts (but I am going to try).

          Jesus loved to tell parables to illustrate a point.  The author of the Gospel of Luke used them more than any other Gospel writer.  Often parables seem like they were meant to be confusing. Sometimes they are confusing because they don’t translate well to our modern context.  Sometimes, they seem very obvious, but they’re not.

          That is the situation we have today.  The first line sets the scene, but in a kind of ambiguous way. “Jesus told a parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.”  I have some questions. Who are these people?  Are they his disciples? Are they Jewish leadership who might be trying to trap him?   It would be natural to assume that Jesus was talking to Jewish leadership—the Pharisees, as there is a Pharisee mentioned in this parable.  Jesus often used parables when communicating with the Pharisees.  However, Jesus was usually a little more subtle with Pharisees. I don’t think he would have told them a story where they were the main character.  I believe the author of Luke intended this to be vague so that it would apply to lots of different kinds of people.  Most of us have trusted in ourselves from time to time…and maybe just once or twice, regarded another person with contempt.  This parable is for all of us.

          It seems straightforward, but isn’t, because they rarely are.  There are two characters…one is the righteous Pharisee and the other is the penitent tax collector. If you have heard enough of my sermons, you know that I like to be careful in how I talk about Pharisees. They were vilified in the gospels to some extent and that led some Christians to vilify all Jews.  We know that was not Jesus’ intent. 

The Pharisee’s prayer sounds obnoxious because he’s comparing himself to others.  It sounds like he’s bragging. But then he goes on to say, “I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.”  First of all, how many of you know someone who loves to tell you how great they feel doing intermittent fasting? Are they any worse than this Pharisee? Fasting was only required a few times a year in the Jewish faith.  This man was going above and beyond.  He wasn’t doing it to kick start his metabolism, it was a form of prayer.  The reason fasting is a spiritual discipline is because it focuses the mind and helps people focus on God.  He was praying and that’s a good thing. Then there is the giving.  This is why this is an unfortunate text for stewardship.   The guy who gives a tenth of his income is the one who isn’t justified.   He is righteous…but not justified.  Is it because he gives, or is it because he relies on what he can give, rather than what God has already given?

          It’s the tax collector who goes home justified.   Now, most people probably don’t love the IRS, but in general, we don’t perceive their profession as sinful.  During Jesus’ time, the tax collectors were often Jewish people who were working for the Roman government.  They were collecting taxes from their fellow Jews.  That money supported the Roman occupation of their land.  To make things worse, often tax collectors would take even more than the Romans were asking for to line their pockets.  Given the guilt this man was experiencing, there is a good chance he was one of those people.  Yet it’s him who is justified.  Was there something magic in this prayer, the prayer that is often referred to as the “sinner’s prayer?” “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” It wasn’t the prayer itself.

          Let’s return to the first line of this reading.  “Jesus told a parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.”  It’s not about either of their professions or even their characters.  It’s about with whom they were putting their.

          For all we know, the Pharisee was righteous.  He was following the law, praying, worshipping and being generous.  He was making sure that he was doing all the right things because he wanted to be right.  Righteousness is about what we accomplish, what we can earn and do.  It’s not a bad thing.  It’s actually a good thing to some extent.  But where we go wrong is when we use our righteousness to put other people down.  Where we go wrong is when we think that we can do this all ourselves.  We don’t need God’s forgiveness or grace because we are good on our own.  We still might worship God because that is the right thing to do, but we don’t worship God because we need God.

          The tax collector wasn’t righteous, but he went home justified.  The difference between being justified and righteous is that it’s God who justifies and if God justifies then we are counted as righteous no matter what we have done.  The tax collector went home justified because he recognized his own need and that he was nothing without God’s love and forgiveness.  The Pharisee didn’t bother asking for forgiveness because he didn’t realize he needed it.

          You might be thinking, well I am definitely not  like that Pharisee and you might be even thinking of a couple people who you have known who are a bit like the Pharisee and isn’t it great that you aren’t like them. And if you are thinking that, well then you have committed the same sin as the Pharisee.  That’s the little twist of the parable.   That’s why it’s not as simple as it appears.  If you walk away thinking there is a hero in this story and there is definitely someone who is wrong, then it’s time to reframe.

          The last line of this reading says, “I tell you, this man (the tax collector) went down to his home justified rather than the other…” If you look at the Greek that is translated to “rather than”, you will see that it could also mean “along side.”  It would read, “I tell you, this man went down to his home justified along side the other…”  There is no winner or loser.  There is no hero of this story.  They left along side one another.  Maybe they were 20 yards apart not daring to look at one another.  But in God’s eyes, they were the same, sinners in need of love and forgiveness. 

          It’s the same with this church community.  We are all in this together.  Some of us might be really good at following the rules and checking all the boxes.   We might be comfortable in these pews, confident that we belong here. Others might have had a rougher road and feel like we don’t belong here, that we aren’t good enough. In the end, we are all sinners in need of redemption. None of us are good enough on our own.  It’s God who makes us good.  It’s God who justifies. 

The thing about church is we need all sorts.  We need the people who are good at following the rules.  We need the people who know what it is to be desperate and to rely on God because God is the most steady thing in their lives.  We need the people who can give generously and we need the people who can’t provide financially, but can give in a number of other ways.  We are all in this together. 

          We give not because it’s the right thing to do, but because we are better people when we give.  We give not to be righteous, but because we have already been justified by the one who gave everything.

Wrestling/Boxing with Prayer: October 19

Luke 18:1-8                                Year C, Pentecost 22                                                                                                                                

            In 1974, Muhammad Ali was set to fight George Foreman who was the Heavy Weight Champion of the World.   Foreman was younger and stronger.  He was favored to win, not only because he was the Heavy Weight Champion, but because of his superior punching power.   In the first 5 or 6 rounds of the match, it appeared that Ali was being pummeled.  It looked so horrible, so painful, people watching were afraid he would die in the ring.  Yet, by the end of round 5, it was clear that Foreman was tiring and Ali was able to go on the offensive.  In the 8^th round, Ali knocked him out.  It is one of the most famous fights in the history of boxing and I promise that if you keep listening, I’m going to make a connection to the Gospel. 

 

            This Gospel reading is probably one of the most well-known parables about prayer.    It has a lot of different interpretations, but the most popular is that of the persistent widow. There are a couple of things you need to know about widows in ancient Israel.  They were the poorest of the poor.  If a woman did not have a husband to support her, she either had to remarry or depend on another male relative.  If she was too old to marry, then she would depend on a son.   If she did not have a son, then her only option was to beg on the street.  Because of this, there were several Jewish laws meant to protect widows, although they were fairly limited in their scope.  As a result, widows became a symbol for all those who were poor and oppressed; all of those who needed to fight for their right to be heard. 

            It is clear that this widow did not have a male relative who was caring for her.  If she did, she would not have been the one in front of the judge.    She was at the mercy of a judge who had no fear of God and no respect for anyone.  She could not beg for mercy.  She could not appeal to his sense of justice or his respect for the law.  The only power she had in her arsenal was perseverance, and it would appear, more than her fair share of feistiness.  

          Most of the New Testament was translated from Greek.  Some things have been lost in translation.  The English translation we use in the Episcopal Church (The New Revised Standard Version) says that the judge said, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she many not wear me out continually by her coming.”  Virtually every commentary I read said that the last part of the verse (wear me out continually) is not a good translation.   The literal translation would be, “she will end up giving me a black eye.”   

People are divided about what Jesus meant by this.  Some say the judge was actually worried that she would hit him.  Others say that black eye is a euphemism for public shame.  Still others, (and this is my choice) hypothesized that it was both.  He was afraid this woman would hit him and that black eye would result in public shame.  The judge, who had no fear of God and no respect for anyone, was afraid of public shaming, even if it was by a poor and powerless widow.   It would seem that she wasn’t so powerless after all.

            I believe that there are some times when it is good to feel a little powerless.  It is a humbling experience.  And we must always remember that we are all powerless before the majesty of God.  Yet there is a time when being powerless feels more like hopelessness, and that is never a good thing.  This woman, while powerless, was never without hope.  If she had been, she would not have gone back again and again.  Where did she get that hope?  The last line of the Gospel reading gives us a good clue.  Jesus concludes the parable by asking, “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”  Her hope was rooted in faith, and that faith gave her strength to persevere, even when the fight had probably gone out of her. 

            Some people think this parable means that if you are persistent enough in your prayer life, your prayer will be answered.  I have tried that and I have known many people who have tried it.  Sometimes it works, and sometimes it does not.   When it does not work, it can be faith shattering.  It can crush the strongest, the most powerful, and the most fortunate.  In my experience, prayer is about the process and not the outcome.   Sometimes that process will feel more like a boxing match, or a wrestling match than a quiet moment with God.   

            Jesus prayed a lot.  That probably seems obvious, but when you think about, it’s actually kind of odd.  He prayed, even though he had control over the outcome.  Sometimes he prayed all night.  The night before he was arrested, his prayer was such a struggle that he actually sweat blood.  Was he trying to change the mind of God, or was he preparing himself for what was about to happen?  I believe he was preparing himself, and that prayer, it was a battle.  He was going to work that out with God.  In the end, it did not free him from his death on the cross, but it gave him the strength to die in peace. 

            What Ali was doing the first 5 rounds of that fight was wearing out George Foreman.  In essence, he was preparing for the moment when he could overcome his opponent.  But in preparing, he took a beating and sometimes that is what prayer feels like, even when the outcome is the one we want.  He won that fight, but what I find most interesting was what happened to George Foreman.  He lost to Ali and he lost a couple matches after that. Then he became an ordained minister and did ministry full time for at least 10 years.  After that, he announced a comeback.  At age 45, 20 years after that fight against Ali, he won the Heavy Weight Championship again.  He was oldest person to ever win that.  It took him 20 years, but he never gave up.            

 Prayer is a process and it is not for the faint of heart.  It’s for those people who are willing to engage in a struggle.  Usually it is a struggle of the heart and not the fists (in fact we really discourage fighting in the Christian Church).   Yet most of us know that emotional blows can be just as painful as physical ones.  Sometimes our prayers will be answered after 5 rounds of beating like Muhammad Ali.  Sometimes it will take 20 years like George Foreman.  Sometimes it will seem like no matter how hard we fight, how good we are, how just our prayer, it will never get answered, not in this lifetime.  It is those times, when we have to remember that our prayer is not meant to change God’s mind, but ours.  

It is meant to make us into the person who can handle what an unanswered prayer feels like.   My prayer for each and every one of you is not only that your prayers be answered, but that when they are not answered in the way you think they should be, you will have the strength for the next round.  We are all fighting so many small battles and many of those battles have left us wounded.  The thing about the struggles we have with God is that while they don’t make us stronger physically, those struggles can strengthen us spiritually.  And if we have that strength at the core of our being, then we can handle the other struggles that come our way.  Even when our body is breaking or we feel like we are just this close to a mental breakdown, that core strength—that place where God resides in us—that will hold us up so we can face another day and never, ever, lose heart.

 

Clear as Mud?: Oct 12

 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-17c                                         Year C, Pentecost 18                                                                               

            The seminary where I received my degree now has something called a “farminary.” It’s a farm on Princeton Seminary’s land where the students maintain the crops and can take classes like: “Thinking Theologically with soil.” One of the goals of the project is to understand the interconnectedness of life and death.  I was there for a conference and we went on a tour and heard a talk from the director of the project.  One of my friends had heard this talk many times and she said, “I really don’t need to bring home any more dirt.”  Apparently the director always made a connection about how compost was made out of dead things and then brought forth new life.  Then he gave everyone some dirt to remind them of this idea.  There were some pastors there who were weeping as they took their bottle of dirt but I kept thinking, “What am I supposed to do with this when I get home? I don’t garden.”

Recently I saw a friend who I attended that conference with and she said, “I always smile when I see that dirt and think of how annoyed you were when we got it.”  I had forgotten about my weird annoyance regarding the dirt. When I came home from my most recent conference, I realized, I still had that dirt on one of my book cases.  It’s in a nice little glass jar. Apparently it meant more to me than I was willing to admit at the time.

            Our reading from 2^nd Kings is relatable, even though it doesn’t seem like it should be.  Naaman is a commander in the army.  He is also a desperate man, but he is a desperate man with resources and probably a little too much pride.  He tried all the methods of healing in his homeland but none of them cured him.  He just happened to have an enslaved girl serving his family who was taken on a military raid.  It’s a detail that is just skimmed over, probably because it was a common practice at the time.  Yet, it’s interesting that this young girl, who has been enslaved, is the one to offer a suggestion for another avenue of healing….which turns out to be the one that works.  What is even more incredible is, someone (Naaman’s wife) listens to this young girl and Naaman listens to his wife.  Of course, it’s amazing what we will do when we have tried everything else and are still searching for healing.

            Our reading skips a few verses. Before Naaman went to the king of Israel, he went to his own king to tell him his plan.  That king sent a letter with him, kind of like a reference letter.  The text that was omitted mentions that Naaman took silver, gold and 10 festal garments.  He was prepared to impress people and provide payment for whatever healing he might receive.

            But the king of Israel can’t help him.  Hearing this, the prophet Elisha offers his help and sends for him.  When Naaman arrives with his impressive entourage, Elisha doesn’t even go out to meet him.  Two kings had met this man in person, but Elisha, leaves him on the doorstep with a message that he should go wash in the Jordan seven times. Naaman has proved that he is desperate to be healed and willing  to go out of his way to do so…but he is not pleased with this advice from Elisha, especially given that he had not even bothered to deliver the advice himself. 

He had water in his own country, from better rivers, and now this man is telling him to wash in their inferior river? If all he needed was a good bath, he would not have needed to come all this way with his gold, silver and 10 festal garments.  I bet he was even wearing one of these amazing outfits and now he was supposed to wash himself in the mud and the grime of the Jordan river.

He’s angry.  The text says that he walked away in a rage.  Then one of his servants approaches and says, “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?” It would seem that these servants know him very well.   Naaman listens and does as the prophet told him.  Wouldn’t you know it, it works? The water cleanses him and he is healed.  He returns to Elisha with his whole entourage and says, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.”  Then Naaman offers Elisha a gift.  Afterall, he had brought all this gold and silver…the festal outfits.  Elisha refuses the gift.

Here is where things get even more interesting and this part isn’t in our text for today.  It comes right after.  Naaman doesn’t get offended as one might expect.  Instead he asks for something.  He asks for two wagons full of dirt.  He realizes that he is on holy ground and it isn’t holy because there is a magnificent temple.  It’s holy because of the God that they worship.  It is holy because it is a place he found healing.  It is holy because he set down his pride, listened to his servant and bathed in a muddy river. He came with gold and silver and left with two carts full of dirt.

It doesn’t say what he did with that dirt when he got home.  One theory is that he built and altar to the one true God on top of that dirt.  But I like to think that he just left it in a pile right by his house, waiting for inspiration to strike.  Maybe something grew on it.  Maybe nothing did, but it reminded him of how the most basic of things can bring healing, how even the muddiest rivers can still cleanse us.

I will admit that when I was at the conference and heard from my friend this was a talk that had been given many times, I prepared myself to be unimpressed.  I would not be moved by a rehearsed story about compost.  That was my pride and my loss.   I am not sure what I am going to do with this small pile of dirt.  I think, I might just hold on to it, as a reminder that even the most basic stories….even the most simple methods of healing can still be miraculous.  Sometimes a little water and the right dirt can heal wounds or grow something new.  It’s normal to assume our faith should be complicated and incomprehensible.  But sometimes it’s so unbearably obvious, we sophisticated Episcopalians have a hard time seeing it. 

In this story, wisdom comes from unexpected sources, like servants and an enslaved girl.  Healing comes from a muddy bath and an unassuming prophet. As Christians, we believe that eternal life comes from the death of a man who lived 2000 years ago and would never have been described as sophisticated or erudite.  Yet somehow, he was God…a God worth believing in, even though we might prefer something more complicated.  I love to preach on the texts that are complicated and confusing.  I love to dig into the details.  I tell people that the Bible and our faith can be confusing.  But then there are also aspects of our faith that are exquisitely simple…simple to understand and yet still hard to believe.

Paul’s 2^nd letter to Timothy was written while he was imprisoned.  He wrote, “Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendent of David—that is my gospel…”  This was before there was a creed, church councils or even the Gospels as we know them.  Before anyone was ordained and had theological training.  Paul said that we are to remember Jesus Christ who lived as human being and was raised from the dead.  Maybe it really is that simple.  Remember Jesus Christ.