Sermons from the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer

We often forget the strangeness of this story that comes to us Because we've cleaned it up and made it so nice and familiar This sweet little baby this silent night all cuddled up and swaddling clothes But it wasn't like that was it? It was so much more real and raw and messy. A refugee family seeking shelter among animals A message of social upheaval and the destruction of the political system that kept things in order. The chosen messengers, poor and dirty and odd. A most highly favored lady, but no lady by the queen's standards. This story is all about how things are changing, how God is flipping the script on the way things have always been, and we are told, do not be afraid, and maybe, if you got it in ya, you could sing.

The message of Christmas is completely counter cultural. Look at how our world has been wrapped in fear. Segregation, isolation, the hoarding of resources, contempt for our neighbor, contempt for our planet, the insidious presence of cynicism that claims everything is terrible. I have nothing to be grateful for, nothing to be happy about, and that constant reminder of failed expectations, which allows fear to become the status quo.

But Christmas, Christmas stands in opposite, in opposition to fear, to bring us a story of how when Mary and the shepherds heard the good news, heard that God was coming to dwell among us, heard that Jesus was coming to change the world, their response was to sing.

So singing, we are taught, is the first step in letting joy. Replace our fears in our lives, our real lives. When the house is a mess and your kid is whining about how crispy or not their chicken nugget is, put on some Lizzo.

In September, after I’d been here at Redeemer for only one month, I had to have cataract surgery. Never mind that I had decided when I was young that I would never need cataract surgery. Apparently it wasn’t my decision. But people told me that cataract surgery is no big deal. That’s true about the surgery. It’s a simple procedure. What WAS a big deal was the instructions the doctor gave me. He said that I could not wear eye makeup for a week after surgery. And I panicked. It sounds funny when I tell you how devastating this was for me, but here’s why.

When I was in seventh grade, my social studies teacher read aloud from our world history book a passage about the history of China. The book went into detail about the Chinese people—their weird singsong language, their strange habits, their yellow skin, and especially, their grotesque slanted eyes. As he read, my schoolmates turned around and made slanted-eye faces at me, laughing. It was humiliating to my core. I felt deep, deep shame at myself, and deep, deep fear of the world that suddenly made itself known to me. At that moment, I was exposed as an unacceptable human being—not truly human, but rather, Chinese. Lowly. Mostly, it was the eyes.

So from that time on, for the next sixty-plus years, I began wearing eye makeup—not to look better, but to hide who I really was—a person of Chinese descent with those strange habits and the grotesque slanted eyes. I put on eye makeup every single day, no matter what—even when I was sick, in the hospital, in the middle of the pandemic when I knew I would not be seen by anyone. I wore it to hide who I was from myself as well as from the world—lowly.

Empire is not a friend of anyone. Empire does not strive towards the well-being and thriving of every created life. Empire puts wealth, resources, knowledge, comfort, and God's abundance in the hands of a few. While others live lives of insecurity, uncertainty, misery, and hopelessness.

An empire of human beings are nothing but a form of commodity and high value is placed on materiality, military force, and war. Empire distorts our understanding of peace of order and of happiness. And sadly, empire places more value on the lives of some and less on others. An empire makes our neighbors other.

Importantly, swimming in the waters of empire put our identities as Christians in jeopardy. It is at odds with our proclamation of Christ being our true king. It is also at odds with every one of us living into the promises of God. and people becoming who God created us to be. Instead of holding most firmly to our Christian identities, empire encourages us to hold on tightly to, even idolize, identities of race, of nationality, ethnicity, gender, physical ability, political affiliations, political ideologies, political leaders, economic and social status.

The fallout has been, is, and will continue to be enormous. We now live in a world that is more divided and volatile than ever. We have become a people driven by fear, greed, self-preservation, iInstead of ones motivated by love, hope, generosity and grace, but all is not lost.

You're downtown. You're on your way to the Bengals game, and you see a panhandler on the street with a sign. Hungry. Please give. You do one of three things. You pull out your wallet and give him a dollar. Or you shake your head to say no. Or you look straight ahead, trying not to catch his eye as you walk by him.

And then you feel guilty and you wonder, Did I just become a goat because I did not feed the least of my brothers and sisters? Jesus told me that when I feed the hungry, I'm feeding the king. And when I refuse, I refuse the king. And as you keep walking with those troubling thoughts, you look up and you see six more panhandlers ahead of you

Is every single panhandler the king who judges us? Are we being tested every time we do or do not help the needy? Does a king really count up all of the times that we give a handout and balance them out against all the times we don't?

The king gathers up everybody and separates the good from the bad. Or as we say in theological terms, separates the keepies from the creepies. The sheep from the goats. Which I kind of object to because I think it's unfair to goats. So, for today, I am going to substitute for the more accurate hagfish. Also known as slime eels. Because hagfish are out only for themselves. And they spew slime at any strangers who come near. Just like in this story.

You all may have heard this story from Jesus described as an economy of virtues. I've heard it that way in the past. God gives us each a spiritual gift some people are special, so they get more gifts, a very convenient translation for all the high achievers in the room. Anyway, everyone gets something and don't worry, God won't give you more than you can handle.


But, just like late-stage capitalism, this story doesn't check out. God wants a good return on his investment? Better read up on those self-improvement manuals because Jesus is coming, so you better look busy.


The end of that story is some idealized version of Streets of Gold and Gates of Pearl, where all the people who annoyed you here on Earth are far away, and you can just sit alone in a big white room, eating bonbons, while angels circle round and sing Latin renditions of Toby Keith songs.


The moral of that story is, use the gifts that God has given you, so you can get that divine pat on the back and hear the words we all long to hear, well done, good and faithful servant.


Today I'd like to look at this Gospel lesson from a different perspective. I'd like to ask, what if? What if this passage is less about getting what you deserve, and more about an impending and uncalendared eschaton that begs us to examine our lives and ask the question, if Jesus stood before me today, would I be ready to give an account for the hope that is within me?

We can certainly relate to these foolish bridesmaids. I mean, I certainly can. In the busyness of our lives, not always are we able to think three or four or five steps ahead. Not always are we able to consider all of the additional planning we need to have in mind. Particularly in the busyness of our lives, we may be hustling through each day. We may be realizing we don't have a meal covered or we don't have time for a project or time for something for work or school.


We may need to figure out how we're going to take care of a family member or provide transportation to a soccer match. or how we're going to work in a commitment we've made in this community. We find ourselves scrambling to get back on track. We may reach out to others for help, and they may be scrambling too.


So, life can be messy. So, we can relate to foolish bridesmaids. But what about the wise bridesmaids? They were clearly not willing to share their oil, not willing to function as a community with the others and give others advice that sends them away and ultimately keeps them out of the banquet.


Doesn't this fly in the face of so many of Jesus's teachings of sharing what we have of loving our neighbor as ourselves? We may be able to relate to these wise bridesmaids on those times, those occasions when we find ourselves really prepared and on top of things. And possibly not impressed by those who are kind of straggling in at the last minute with work half done like we have done ourselves on many occasions.

Life is so complicated. It has so many experts, so much advice. We want to live well. We want to do well. So we turn to the experts. And so that's my excuse for telling you about the other day when I went with friends to a Chinese restaurant. I don't usually meet for Chinese. I like my cooking just fine.

When I was a child, my Yaya used to tell us that our Halloween costumes are supposed to scare away the devil. So, the more terrifying your costume, the better. But still, in the midst of it all, I had this overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by terror. It felt like more than just a children's game.


Just then, a familiar tune played in my head. “Let your little light shine, shine, shine. Let your little light shine, oh my Lord. There must be someone down in the valley, trying to get home.”


And I looked up, and beyond the chaos, I saw something that I didn't know I was searching for. In the midst of a people hiding behind masks with weapons in hand and psychological terror in mind. A beacon of light showed up in the form of a red sweater.


While most other people there chose to dress as werewolves and wizards, this neighbor decided to dress as one of the most iconic childhood heroes of my generation. Standing right in front of me was none other than everyone's favorite Presbyterian minister, Mr. Rogers.


Tyler had the costume down to a tee. The khaki pants, the blue sneakers, the salt and pepper hair, and a little lapel pin of the friendly face of Fred Rogers, just in case anyone was confused about who he was dressed as. I couldn't help but think, if the devil is frightened by anything at all, it would be this, a warm heart, a kind face, a welcoming word, and a cheerful embrace.

And we can choose not to allow God to influence our beliefs. We can believe what we already believed and then approach the altar of God and hope to leave unchanged. By saying, these things are the things that God cares about and these are our concerns. We can walk into this space and leave our cares and troubles for the world out there and come in here and just talk about our personal feelings or piety and talk about things like faith and hope and grace and churchy words.

And you can come up to this altar and take bread from some man in a dress and then you can go back out into the world and forget about all this stuff and leave it here and not allow this to influence that and not allow that to influence this. Which leads me to the question. What part of your life does not belong to God?

What part of your life does God not care about? I encourage you today when you go home, take out a piece of paper and a pen and make a list. Or pull your phone out, grab your little notepad on your phone and go ahead and make a list of the things in your life that God doesn't care about.

We recognize authority. We place our trust in the people that we recognize are actually doing the work of love in our lives. Think for a moment about those you actually trust. The people in whom you put your trust. Is it the people with all the best words? Or is it the people that you have seen, time and again, show up for you in love and care.


We place authority in others based on what we see in them. We place our trust in people based on if we believe, after watching them in our lives, that we can trust them, that they will care for us, that they will love us the way we love them. The sad and painful thing that we see today in this story is that the chief priests and the elders who are the people who are responsible for the faith life of the community don't recognize the power and presence of God when it is right in front of them.


They have not lived their lives in such a way that they can recognize God's work when it's happening right in front of them. They don't see God's authority in the love and the power and the miracle and teaching of Jesus because they have not constructed their lives in such a way that they place authority and trust in God's love.

The story that Jesus is telling is about a working-class guy who owes his boss 10,000 talents or about 60 million dollars today. Does that sound a little unreasonable? Yeah, it is. Friends, it's not possible. Jesus is telling a story about a person who owes a completely unreasonable and unpayable debt.

It's such a ridiculous number that when the master says it's time to call to account and pay for it, the servant says, I'll do whatever I can. I'll work for the rest of my life. I'll pay you back. I swear. And the master's like, I mean, no, you won't. You're never going to make 60 million. Are you going to play the lottery? Like what's your plan?

In that moment, the master forgives him. And the point isn't that he forgives a big debt. The point is that he forgives an unforgivable debt. The point isn't that he forgives something that the slave would have to spend the rest of his life trying to pay off. The point is that he's forgiving something the slave will never, ever, in all of history, possibly pay off.

So this slave is forgiven, and then he turns around, and he's so excited, and he goes out, and in the middle of his excitement, he sees his other slave friend, who owes him a hundred denari, about 5k today. It's kind of small compared to 60 million. He's just been forgiven an unforgivable debt. He has just been forgiven a 60 millions dollar debt. And he sees someone who owes him 5k. And he goes, put that guy in jail. It's the debtor's prison for him.

This is the story Jesus is telling. Is he telling a story of how often we should forgive? Of how many times? No. Is he even telling a story of how big a sin we should forgive? Again, no. Jesus is trying to change our relationship with forgiveness. How do you and I, how do we relate to forgiveness? What is our relationship with forgiveness? How do we understand it? He recognizes that most of us keep score.

Now working at a coffee shop can teach you a lot about humans. The one I worked at called itself People's Third Place. You have your work, you have home, and you have your third place. A place where you feel like you belong. Where you know that people are looking for you to be there. Where you're loved and you can show up in pajama pants and a messy bun and people are just glad to see you.

Some people though come into a third place and they take their cup and they leave, telling themselves that they know coffee.

But what I've seen is that the people who stay, get comfortable, and settle in, and share their lives together, and tell stories together, and try Sam's weird smoothie concoction he came up with that has espresso in it for some reason, the people who hold the alley door open for you on trash day, those were not just coffee people, but coffee shop people.

What I found is that Jesus is a lot more like a French press than a Keurig cup.

If we pay attention to Jesus fully and we pay attention to the first generation of Jesus followers, we understand that to pick up our cross and to follow Jesus is not to follow Jesus out by ourselves into the wilderness all alone. It is to follow Jesus deep into the heart of community where we are meant to live our lives, building relationships of love. To love one another the way we are loved. To create a space where people can know even an inch, a smidge, just an iota of what it means to be loved unconditionally because we experience it with one another.

We have the audacity to think that that's not radical? What is more radical in this world than to create a space for people where they are told and then they are able to experience true belonging, unconditional?

You and I are not conditioned to believe that it's true. This life does not train us to believe that we are loved like that. We are over and over again taught the message that our value in this world is based on our performance. That how much we are loved will be based on what we bring to the table.

We are told this. by our culture. We are told this by our work. We are told this sometimes even in our families and in our friend circles. We have built communities, many of which are very wonderful, that are based on all sorts of things. Are they based on complete and utter belonging and belovedness?

This week, my boys collectively convened at the kitchen table to discuss a lesson that they had both had in their first and third grade classes. And my ears perked up as I heard little Arlo say, And that's how the world was made. My parental anxieties leapt from my skin. We do live in Ohio, after all.

What are you guys talking about in here? Oh, we're just talking about how the world was made. Intrigued, I pleaded, tell me more. Well, our teacher took a great big balloon and she shook it up and she passed it around and we all got to hold it and squish it and then she took it back and she popped it and glitter went flying everywhere.

And all the particles and atoms and stuff, well they're all over our classroom. And we'll be finding glitter for years. Did I mention I love school? Because they play with glitter there and not at my house.

I love that my children get to wonder and explore and expand their minds, their world views in this diverse environment of thought and experience. I really do love that the two creation narratives we find in the book of Genesis are not the only way that they will understand God's marvelous work in making this world.

I love that science and faith are not mutually exclusive in their minds. And I love that they get to see glitter everywhere.

Now, I don't know exactly what the opposite of glitter is, but I think I saw it this week, too.

I don't think that he was just doing a sort of a performative act of false humility in front of us. 'Oh, I'm just very young.' What I realized was that he was orienting himself in the truth of his infancy in God's eyes, because for him, that was a proper perspective on how to approach the whole conversation of his relationship with God.

You, right now, as you are, imagine for a moment that you are, in fact, only in your infancy when it comes to your understanding of the power of God's love in your life and the power of God's love in the life of this creation. Many of us, I'm only 44, and I already am starting to do the thing where I'm like, I don't want to learn that thing.

Like, cars without drivers, I hope I die before it happens. I'm down in my 40s, and I'm already picking the things that I don't want to learn. And so many of you were like, 'I'll never get online,' and then the pandemic happened and you're said, fine I'll learn Zoom, but you don't really want to.

We're already saying, I've learned enough, I'm old enough, I've gotten far enough. I'm done, I'd like to kind of coast a little bit. And yet wherever you are in your life, whatever age you are, however, close you are to the end of your life on this Earth, you are still in your infancy when it comes to learning the power, the magnificence of God's love.

As humans, we are constantly making choices that require separation. We cannot have everything, so we are forced to choose. We cannot do everything, and so when we do anything, we must decide not to do something else.

The French philosopher Paul Ricoeur once wrote, Ugh, if only I could grasp and embrace everything. And how cruel it is to choose and to exclude. And, of course, sometimes life chooses for us. No one would choose to grow up and become an adult. And yet, here we are. No one would choose to have their children leave home, and yet... There they go.

At the very heart of what it means to be human is the inevitable separation from the things and people that we love most in this world. Life is hard. Distress, and hunger, and suffering, and being laid bare in all of our weaknesses. These are all a part of the human experience. Suffering is for us. a predestined condition, and the Apostle Paul knew this all too well. He himself enacted unimaginable suffering on some of the first followers of Jesus Christ. He stood there and watched as Stephen was stoned to death for proclaiming Jesus as the Son of the Living God.

Paul's not trying to get us to be fixed. And he's trying to get us out of the mentality that we are fixable. Or that Jesus came here to fix us. To solve us. There is a difference between being solved and being saved. There is a difference between being fixed and being loved.

God loves you. God lives for you, dies and lives again for you. God saves us as we are, not fixes us so we can be savable. And those are different things. Now many of us, many of us in this room, have been quite successful at solving problems. And I want to say, there's a place for it. It's not bad. Well, Phil told me today that problem solving is bad.

Now we got to solve problems, I get that. There's a bunch of things we got to work on, I understand that. Us being ourselves is not a problem to be solved though. And there are things that we cannot muscle our way through. We cannot use our bodies and our minds so strongly and so perfectly that finally we will be acceptable to God because we are already acceptable to God, the God who loves us and is faithful to us. Thanks be to God in Jesus Christ

To have a mind set in the flesh is a mind set in the belief that you can use your body to make yourself perfect. And Paul says that leads to death. Death, when you try to make yourself perfect in relationship with others, when you try to make yourself perfect in relationship to God, when you think you've just got to keep working or else you cannot love and be loved, you are killing yourself, my friends.

Concerned that people would not just see it as a free ride, but a joy ride, a license to sin. Not exactly. To Paul's way of thinking, saving grace has ethical implications. And to do that, to make that explanation, Paul uses the analogy of slavery. It's something that everyone in the Roman world could relate to.

One out of five folks in the Roman Empire were slaves. It was commonplace. Paul makes reference to it, like eight times in today's short reading. So, the Jewish contingent in the Roman Church would recall, of course, the exodus. Their escape from slavery in Egypt and the lessons learned while they wandered in the wilderness as lost souls, and then finding the promised land, the challenges, and the responsibilities of what it means to be free. Now, they would've certainly been relieved of not having to perfectly meet the law, the Old Testament Ten Commandments and all the many burdensome, oppressive, interpretive rules and regulations that went with it. They've been relieved greatly. But so that we don't get the wrong idea, The New Testament summary of the law to love God and love your neighbor as yourself well, that's not a cake walk either.

As a matter of fact, that may be even more difficult to comply with to meet as a goal. And that is because no one is perfect, and therein lies the conundrum of being a human. Paul reminds us therefore that grace is possible because of the life, the death, and the resurrection of Christ.

Drowning didn't make me perfect, but I think it did maybe make me a little bit better. I was more conscious of what was going on around me, more thoughtful around water. I trained in CPR, the same thing that saved my life and became a lifeguard, helping others to be safe in the water.

I didn't altogether throw out though the notion that you only live once. YOLO is what the kids call it these days. I've heard this phrase ad nauseam in our culture. Live life to the fullest. Take the trip, try the thing, go out there. Spend all that money, just do it. And while I, I understand the sentiment, Yolo, you only live once, I think our focus on Paul's letter to the Romans today is asking us a deep and abiding question about living. And about what we're living for. It asks us, are you just out there living your best life so that you can have more than your neighbor? Is yolo your excuse to spend your entire paycheck on a new car or a bigger house, or the latest Chanel bag? We're all alive, thank God, but what are we living for?