Building the Church, Bringing the Kingdom

Mark 13:1-8

As Jesus came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left upon another, all will be thrown down.”

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him, privately, “Tell us, when will this be and what will be the sign that all of these things are about to be accomplished?” Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he,’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.”

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Hooray for a Gospel text about the impermanence and seeming unimportance of temples, stones, synagogues, and buildings on Commitment Sunday for the Building and Outreach Fund. All of this, will indeed, be thrown down and turned to dust someday.

But I hope you agree with Jesus, of course.

As focused and as fierce as we’ve been about building this place and paying off our mortgage and all that has gone into that, over the course of our congregation’s short life together, we’ve always tried to be faithful about the truth that the Church is not a building; that our identity and purpose isn’t always, ever, or only about having an address, or about merely what happens inside these walls. We were very much “the Church” before we called any of this home and we are very much “the Church” when we’re not gathered here. We are very much “the Church” even when – especially when – we’re doing our thing, living our lives out there in the world, for the sake of the world.

And horray for a text that taps in to so much of the fear, angst and anxiety that so many are feeling about life in the world these days – wars and rumors of wars; nation rising up against nation; earthquakes, famine, natural disasters and more that make you think maybe the beginning of the end might actually be right around the corner.

Because of all that, our call is to bring the Kingdom – to see and to celebrate what God has already begun, in Jesus – and work to make God’s will and God’s way come to life among us and through us and for the sake of the world … here on earth as it is in heaven; to make the Kingdom of this world look and be more like God’s Kingdom, on the other side of heaven.

Which is why our Building and Outreach Fund matters, as we wonder about and make commitments to support it this morning and in the days to come. Yes, some portion of it all is about the bricks, the mortar, the “stones” that will, one day, all be thrown down and turned to dust, as Jesus promises. But the rest of it is about bringing the kingdom, doing the work, sharing the life and grace and mercy of God wherever and however we are able.

Last week, one of my favorite preachers invited us to do a few things in response to the state of things following our country’s recent election, regardless of how we may be feeling about all of that. Pastor Cogan suggested that, if things didn’t go our way, we should share our fear, our anxiety, and our sadness about that with those who did get what they wanted. And he suggested that, if we are the latter – if things went as we hoped they would – we should listen to the concerns and needs of our struggling neighbors who are feeling scared, unseen, and worried about the days to come.

In other words, some of what I heard from Pastor Cogan last week was an invitation to listen to each other and get to work.

And I’ve done that. I’ve received texts and e-mails. I’ve had sit-downs over lunch, spontaneous conversations in the library, seen tears in my office, felt the anger expressed – in passing – in the hallway and at the drug store, because there just aren’t enough of the right words sometimes.

Now, I haven’t and I won’t have all the answers for all of that at every turn. But I will risk playing both sides against the middle – or something like that, this morning – in order to find a middle-ground of grace and hope no matter where we find ourselves with regard to all of it.

See, as I wondered about today – searching for some hope in light of all of our collective mixed emotions (happy/sad, relieved/anxious, victorious/lost, hopeful/despairing) – I came away grateful for this place, for our ministry, and for the work we do that responds with action in real time to the things that can and should concern all of us these days. In an otherwise divided, fractured country, the mission and ministry of this place calls us to some common ground and some holy work.

For instance, if it was “the economy, stupid” that informed your vote last Tuesday … if the price of groceries and gas was enough to make you vote a certain way, I’m so glad we have a food pantry that is meeting that need for so many of our neighbors. (Don’t forget, our Mission Sunday this month is to provide Thanksgiving dinners for people in our community. $50 bucks will help provide a meal with all the fixins for someone who might not otherwise be able to celebrate.) That is the Lord’s work, regardless of your politics.

Or if abortion care, abortion access, and the health of women and babies was an issue that inspired your vote – one way or the other – whether you got what you wanted, or not – I hope you noticed that we gave $5,000 to the Milk Bank with our Outreach Grants this year. This is money, and they are an organization, that supports the health and wellness of women and infants, in crisis, in powerful ways – no matter the politics that lead to their distress or need – and that will hopefully help to mitigate more of that distress or need, come what may.

If you’re concerned about the status of immigration in our country, please know that we gave $10,000 to Exodus Refugee Immigration this past year, thanks to our Outreach grants, too. (And some of us helped at their headquarters on “God’s Work. Our Hands.” Sunday, in September.) Exodus protects the human rights and dignity of refugees fleeing persecution and war, and helps them get settled safely in central Indiana. This is faithful, Biblically-mandated, Christ-centered work. And our generosity helps make it happen.

If you are concerned about the quality of public education and the equity with which it is offered in our state or in our nation – and some of my favorite teachers have told me that we should be – I hope you’re encouraged to know we also gave $10,000 to Brightlane Learning’s “School on Wheels” this year. They offer tutoring, academic support, and advocacy to kids and families – grades K through 12 – who are struggling with homelessness and housing insecurity, while trying to get a quality education.

If you feel like the status and place of women in our culture has taken a hit again in recent days, I hope you’re encouraged by our $10,000 grant to Talitha Koum’s recovery house for women. That money and that ministry over in Greenfield helps women, specifically, recover from addiction and trauma, and get back on their feet to become healthy and whole again, for their own good, and for the good of our world.

So, again, if our call is to bring the Kingdom of God to bear in and upon the kingdoms of this world, we are doing that in real time, for real people, in real, practical, tangible ways, that really matter.

And there are beautiful, faithful, inspiring, intangible ways to facilitate and accomplish that through our life together, too.

Witnessing the love between two people – in marriage, as we did this morning already at our first service – is a glimpse and a gift of that, for sure. It speaks to commitment and love and hope in ways that can’t be measured, but practiced, nonetheless. Making our confession, receiving our forgiveness; sharing the sacraments in bread, wine, and water and all the good news they portend; passing the peace; loving our neighbor; forgiving our enemy. None of these things can be quantified like so much grant money, but they can be witnessed, felt, received; and they are our life blood, purpose, and inspiration for all the rest.

All of this is to say, I see a lot of platitudes and clichés about how we’re supposed to get along – as friends, as family members, as neighbors, and as people in the Church in the days ahead – in spite of the differences that threaten to divide us. That is so much easier said, than done – which is something else I hear and feel when I listen to my neighbor, and to many of you.

But it’s been said that the local church is the hope of the world – and I believe it. It is a tall order. It is a daunting task. It can feel like an impossible, exhausting expectation, for sure. But it is nonetheless why we do what we do – if not to redeem the lot of it, then to point to the hope of the only one who can, who does, and who will, one day – Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen

Talents, Treasures, and Truth to Power

Matthew 25:14-30

“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.

The one who had received the five talents, went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.

After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master replied, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’

Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest.

So, take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”

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Last week, I talked about how – in that parable about the ten bridesmaids who get locked out of the wedding banquet – it is okay and even faithful to see the bouncer at the door – the one who locks them out of the banquet – as someone other than Jesus. That’s a new, different, surprising take on a familiar teaching for some. This morning, then, is a variation on a theme because today’s parable may not be what we’re used to seeing on its surface, either.

First of all, smarter people than me point out that this isn’t what they call a “kingdom parable,” which just means it’s one of those parables Jesus tells that doesn’t begin with the phrase, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like…” And that’s good news because it is one of those parables that ends with “outer darkness,” “weeping,” and “gnashing of teeth.” So, just like it didn’t fit or feel right last week that Jesus would be the one behind the door, keeping others from entering the feast of God’s kingdom, it NEVER feels quite right to see the God we know in Jesus as the one who throws people into the gnashing teeth of the outer darkness.

So this may invite us to wonder, contrary to the expectations and assumptions of many people – and maybe contrary to the way we’re used to reading this parable – if the slaveholding Master in today’s parable doesn’t have to be a stand-in for the God we know in Jesus, either.

AND, we’re left to wonder then, if Jesus’ parable isn’t painting a picture of God’s kingdom then he must be painting a picture of something else – like the world as he understood it to be and as it was for those who were listening to him. And, by extension, unfortunately, the world as it still is for you and me. Which is to say, as we look to find ourselves in the middle of this one, it means Jesus seems to be railing against the ways of the world, and of our misuse of, reliance on, and love for … money.

See, if the Master in today’s story isn’t meant to be a stand-in for God or Jesus, it means he’s just some guy. And he’s a mean, selfish, abusive, greedy one at that. And it changes everything, once we’re allowed to consider him that way. It means that the slaves who please him aren’t necessarily to be commended, they’re to be questioned, if not pitied, even. Yes, they take his money and make more of it, but it was likely by unfair, unfaithful means – and everyone listening in Jesus’ day would have known or assumed that. And those first two slaves may have acted out of fear as much as anything else, knowing what we know happens to the third slave who let the Master down.

See, the truth about society and the cultural norm in Jesus’ day – especially for the faithful, Jewish peasant – was that people weren’t upwardly mobile capitalists, like you and I are trained to be.

Whereas we are inclined to look at these first two slaves who doubled their master’s money with admiration and a pat on the back, Jesus and his listeners would have looked at them with suspicion and judgment – maybe for defrauding someone or lending money with interest, like some sort of tax collector. (We know how people felt about their local tax collector, right?) The Old Testament scripture of Jesus’ faith, after all, is full of warnings and prohibitions against storing up more than you can use, lending money for interest, and the like, so there would have been questions. Maybe, those listening to Jesus would have simply questioned the motivation of any slave to line the pockets of their enslaver just to make their way into his good pleasure.

Because if this isn’t a “kingdom parable,” these slaves who “enter into the joy of their master” weren’t entering into the joy of the God, made known in Jesus. They were entering into the joy of someone more like Don Corleone, or Tony Soprano, or Omar Navarro. The Master in Jesus’ story might have been seen as a money-grubbing swindler who sends others to do his dirty work; this enslaver who reaps where he doesn’t sow and who gathers where he doesn’t scatter seed. And, remember, for their work in the end, these first two slaves were still slaves, after all, being put in charge of more dealings and dirty work that would have made their fellow slaves and the average, law-abiding Jewish peasant cringe.

And all of this means that the poor sap who buried the money… the one who didn’t invest wisely… who didn’t make more of what he’d been given… who didn’t do his Master’s bidding… who ends up cast into the outer darkness with all of that weeping and gnashing of teeth… is actually the hero of Jesus’ story.

This slave bucks the system, as it were. He’s a revolutionary rebel. We can imagine him standing up to the Master, with some measure of fear and trembling, and refusing to play the mob-boss’ game. He buries his money in the ground rather than try to make more of it by cheating others, by charging interest, or by otherwise growing that kind of wealth just for the sake of growing wealth, or adding to his Master’s capacity to continue enslaving and oppressing his subjects. And he returns to the Master the same, singular, measly, dust-and-dirt-covered talent he was given, perhaps balanced or spinning on the tip of his middle finger, if you know what I mean.

So, what does this have to do with you and me and Cross of Grace and with our lives as followers of Jesus in the world as we know it?

If we understand the parable this way, we see Jesus – not as painting a picture of God’s kingdom where dirty deeds, done dirt cheap are praised and rewarded in heaven. But we see this parable as an indictment of the way too much of the world was and is for so many. In that last slave – the one who gets thrown into the outer darkness? – Jesus may even be painting a picture of just what’s about to happen to him soon enough, when he refuses to play the game of the religious and political masters; when he, himself, is handed over to the outer darkness of the cross and crucified.

And here, then, is our hope and invitation. We are called, as always, to live more like Jesus. When we talk and pray and invite one another to use our money for the good of God’s church in the world, for the sake of the kingdom among us, we are doing nothing more and nothing less than challenging the ways of the world as we know it. We are standing up for generosity in the face of greed. We are choosing to be faithful instead of fearful with our resources.

Wednesday night, many of us heard from Charla Yearwood at the first event, put together by our newly-minted “Racial Justice Team.” As part of that, Charla talked about the inescapable, “normal” of whiteness in our world. She talked about how those in power generations ago began to set the standard for the way the rest of the world operates, still. This is true when it comes to everything from fashion, to academia, to politics, to church, even, as we understand and experience it. And it’s also true where the economics of capitalism are concerned.

A few of us were talking after Charla’s presentation, about how inescapable the ways of capitalism are in our lives and work in the world – especially in this country. How, in order to succeed, by the world’s standards, we have to abide by the rules and follow the ways and live up to the expectations of the capitalist culture in which we live. That’s impossible to deny and I’m such a product of it, I’m not sure it’s always bad. And I can see that it’s so deep and wide and woven into the fabric of our lives and culture and economy that it’s inescapable, even if we wanted to get away from it.

…except for here, in our life together as Christians in the Church and in this place … as believers … as followers of The Way and the ways of Jesus …

And I think that’s something like what we learn from the third enslaved person in Jesus’ parable. That we don’t have to follow all of the rules all of the time. That we don’t have to play the game at every turn. That we can buck the system – refuse to do “The Master’s” bidding – in the name of grace and mercy and equity; generosity, sacrifice, justice and love.

When we give our money away for the work of God’s Church in the world, it is counter-cultural. When we give to others with no strings attached – not expecting a return on our investment or an increase in principle – we rebel against the greed that surrounds us. When we do the math and decide to give a significant portion of our income to the work of God in the world – through church and charity; for the sake of philanthropy and fun, even – we bring the Kingdom to life, like Jesus did.

This is hard, holy work, for sure. But it’s why faithful stewardship, being mindful about our money, and using it as a tool for spiritual growth, are one of the greatest gifts of the church in the world and one of our greatest blessings as disciples. Our offerings are nothing more and nothing less than a spiritual practice that speaks truth to power – if/when we use it that way.

I hope we see the use of our money – especially the ways we are called to give it away – as a way of being freed from the Master that money and greed want to be in our lives. And I believe that when we give – with gratitude for what is already ours – we will be filled with the joy of a different Master – that we’ll be filled with the joy of the Master of grace and mercy and peace and new life – that really is Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen