President Salutes Families of Fallen Service Members

President Salutes Families of Fallen Service Members DoD News, Defense Media Activity WASHINGTON, Sept. 23, 2016 — President Barack Obama today saluted the sacrifices of the mothers and families of America’s fallen service members, as he proclaimed Sept. 25 as Gold Star Mother’s and Family’s Day. The president’s proclamation reads as follows: Since our Nation's founding, in peace and in war, the values that define our brave men and women in uniform have remained constant: honor, courage, and selflessness. From the deafening sounds of combat to the silence of the sacred hills at Arlington, we remember the countless sacrifices our service members make to preserve the freedoms we too often take for granted. No one understands the true price of these freedoms like our Gold Star families, whose humility, even in time of grief, represents the best of our country. Today, we recognize their sacrifices by listening to their stories, sharing in their pain and pride, and pledging to do all we can to honor them and the loved ones they hold close in their hearts. Through unspeakable sorrow, our Gold Star families suffer from loss that can never be restored -- pain that can never truly be healed. It is because of their selfless character and unfailing grace that Americans can come home each day, gather with family and friends, and live in peace and security. And though the debt our fallen soldiers and their families pay is one we can never fully pay back, we must continue to support our veterans when they come home and stand by our military families who endure unthinkable loss. We must maintain the sacred covenant we share with our veterans by ensuring they have the care and benefits they deserve, and as citizens, we must all work to lift each other up in a manner that is worthy of those who laid down their lives to protect the land and freedoms we cherish. Less than one percent of our Nation wear the uniform, but all of us have an obligation to acknowledge the losses endured by Gold Star Mothers and Families and to fill the painful absence of their loved ones with our profound gratitude. We must strive to support these families -- not just with words, but with actions -- by being there every day for the parents, spouses, and children who feel the weight of their loss. On this day of remembrance, may we carry forward the work of those who gave their last full measure of devotion and vow to keep their memories burning bright in our hearts. And may we lift up their families, who have steadfastly supported their mission through immeasurable heartbreak, by remaining a Nation worthy of their sacrifice. The Congress, by Senate Joint Resolution 115 of June 23, 1936 (49 Stat. 1985 as amended), has designated the last Sunday in September as "Gold Star Mother's Day." NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim September 25, 2016, as Gold Star Mother's and Family's Day. I call upon all Government officials to display the flag of the United States over Government buildings on this special day. I also encourage the American people to display the flag and hold appropriate ceremonies as a public expression of our Nation's gratitude and respect for our Gold Star Mothers and Families. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this twenty-third day of September, in the year of our Lord two thousand sixteen, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and forty-first. BARACK OBAMA

Surprising Investment/New Directions

Surprising Investment/New Directions

September 25, 2016 
Written by Kathryn Matthews

Sunday, September 25
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Focus Theme:
Surprising Investment

Weekly Prayer
God Eternal, you inspired Jeremiah to buy a piece of land when no one could see a future in it. Grant us such commitment to the future of your people, that you will always have workers for your vineyard and harvesters for your fields. Amen.

Focus Scripture
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15

The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord in the tenth year of King Zedekiah of Judah, which was the eighteenth year of Nebuchadrezzar. At that time the army of the king of Babylon was besieging Jerusalem, and the prophet Jeremiah was confined in the court of the guard that was in the palace of the king of Judah, where King Zedekiah of Judah had confined him. Jeremiah said, The word of the Lord came to me: Hanamel son of your uncle Shallum is going to come to you and say, "Buy my field that is at Anathoth, for the right of redemption by purchase is yours." Then my cousin Hanamel came to me in the court of the guard, in accordance with the word of the Lord, and said to me, "Buy my field that is at Anathoth in the land of Benjamin, for the right of possession and redemption is yours; buy it for yourself." Then I knew that this was the word of the Lord. And I bought the field at Anathoth from my cousin Hanamel, and weighed out the money to him, seventeen shekels of silver. I signed the deed, sealed it, got witnesses, and weighed the money on scales. Then I took the sealed deed of purchase, containing the terms and conditions, and the open copy; and I gave the deed of purchase to Baruch son of Neriah son of Mahseiah, in the presence of my cousin Hanamel, in the presence of the witnesses who signed the deed of purchase, and in the presence of all the Judeans who were sitting in the court of the guard. In their presence I charged Baruch, saying, Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Take these deeds, both this sealed deed of purchase and this open deed, and put them in an earthenware jar, in order that they may last for a long time. For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.

All Readings For This Sunday
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15 with Psalm 91:1-6,14-16 or
Amos 6:1a, 4-7 with Psalm 146
1 Timothy 6:6-19 and
Luke 16:19-31

Focus Questions

1. Is this text a message for individuals, or does it address the wider community? Why?

2. When have you felt "the armies of the empire" camped outside your "city walls"?

3. What ought to be the response of individuals and churches to a prophetic text?

4. When have you seen hope in the midst of despair?

5. When has God "vetoed" your anxiety?

Reflection by Kate Matthews

If they had had such things back in those days, the people of Israel might have said that their hopes were on a roller-coaster ride, up and down, up and down. When things were good, no one wanted to hear from the prophet Jeremiah, who warned even in "secure" times that God's judgment was coming in the form of the armies of the Babylonian empire. For almost thirty chapters, Jeremiah does go on. And on. No wonder the people preferred to listen to the prophets who were cheery and reassuring, denying the threat of destruction from the East, denial, it seems, thriving in every age.

Meanwhile, the king seemed to have his head in the clouds, counting on help to come from the south, from mighty Egypt, who hated Babylon as much as everyone else did. Little Israel was caught between, and at the mercy of, the grand empires who decided world affairs in those days, including the things that eventually rained down on the "little ones," ordinary people who starved, suffered, and died in the midst of the dramas of "greater" men. Perhaps some things never change.

From warning to reassurance

But that's not really what our passage this week is about. Jeremiah has now changed his tune, and his prophecies in these chapters are commonly called "The Book of Comfort." It's 588 B.C. E., and the Babylonian Empire is pounding on the door of Jerusalem--again. Ten years earlier, Babylon had "disciplined" a rebellious Israel with a measure of destruction and had carried off some of its people. But now Israel was getting overly confident again, probably because they thought they had Egypt backing them up (sometimes it works to get one bully to fight the other), and the Babylonians were going to make it very clear that there would be no more trouble from this upstart kingdom.

We know that the destruction and exile that followed left a profound mark on the spirit and history of the people of Israel, when the land that had been promised to their ancestors long ago, the land to which their freed-slave forebears had been led through for forty long years (and after much longer in captivity), the land of David and Solomon's glory, the land that was theirs--or better, God's, and they were its stewards: this land was in every sense taken from them. Jeremiah had tried to warn them that they needed to get right with God instead of taking God's favor for granted, and he saw Babylon as the instrument of God's punishment for Israel's unfaithfulness.

Jeremiah delivers a message

With the armies of the evil empire camped around them like a scene from a medieval novel, or better, one of The Lord of the Rings movies, the people are starving, and sick, and desperate. They are trapped, too, and can't get out of the city walls to tend their land. Their king, Zedekiah, knows he's in trouble, but he's perhaps the best of all at denial. He even responded to Jeremiah's warnings that he, the king, would suffer the approaching doom by holding the prophet captive in his palace, where he couldn't stir up the people.

While Jeremiah has used many words in the past thirty chapters or so, here he uses a deed (literally) to deliver a message. In his action as much as his speech, he still digs down deep and finds hope to sustain the people. Even though he has predicted this calamity, his spirit must be depressed by the reality of it on his doorstep. Right at that moment he receives a message from God that both surprises and perplexes him. When he hears that his relative, Hanamel, is going to come to him with the offer to sell him his land in Anathoth, and then Hanamel appears and does exactly that, Jeremiah knows that this is indeed a message from God. And so he obeys the command he has received, and purchases what is, at least at this moment, worthless land.

This is not our land, but God's

Today, we have different ways of determining the value of property, including land. While we still have farms and depend on the earth for our sustenance, most of us are disconnected from the processes of agriculture, and land may only represent an investment that will grow because of its strategic location (for example, if a housing development might be put on it, or a big box store goes up next to it, and its commercial value soars). Except for long-time owners of land, farmers who live on it and its yield, most folks have very little attachment to such real estate. But that's not how things were in Jeremiah's day.

The people remembered that the land was not only a gift from God, but in a very real way, still belonged to God. This is the foundation of a stewardship theology that says that all creation, while a blessing from God, still belongs to God, including all of our possessions and money. In any case, the land was precious to the people, and it was "kept in the family," passed down from generation to generation. In Leviticus 25:25-55, the law even provided protection for this practice, and we hear about this "law of redemption" in action in our reading this week.

Location, timing and deciding

It was Jeremiah's right and duty, then, to re-claim the land in Anathoth for a relative who was destitute. Talk about location, location, location: what good was that land going to be to Jeremiah, when the Babylonians were camped on it? It certainly couldn't be farmed, or provide sustenance or income for its owner. If he tried to sell it, he'd have to find another family member as "foolish" as he was, willing to pay money for what appeared to be worthless.

Imagine the mess Israel was in! Elizabeth Achtemeier vividly describes the major economic depression visited upon Israel by the Babylonians, with land, silver and gold all now worthless, business at a standstill and everyone just wanting to get out of harm's way. This was the exactly the worst moment for such a strange transaction by Jeremiah, in fact, we might call it counter-intuitive, and completely against the tide of developments around him. If location is important in real estate, so are timing and the decision to buy or sell at just the right moment.

A quiet, dramatic action

It's in this atmosphere of doom that Jeremiah doesn't just speak but acts, and acts with great care, even great drama, however quiet that drama may appear. He buys his relative's land, and he makes something of a show of it, just to make a statement, we would say today. When it appears that there is no hope for tomorrow, Jeremiah makes a hope-filled, trust-filled statement about God's intentions for Israel and its story, which will, against all appearances, go on.

This statement doesn't spring from optimism or even a misplaced confidence in governments, his own king, or Egypt's armies, to pull things out of the fire at the last moment. Jeremiah's purchase is his way of announcing his hope in the God of Israel here, in the worst of times just as much as in the good ones. Israel's God, no matter how things may look right now, no matter what "the market" says, is the One in charge. (God's God, and we're not.)

Seeing the bigger picture of God's promises

When the word of God comes to Jeremiah and tells him to buy the land, it also helps him to dare to see that there would be more than this impending desolation, more than the realization of his worst warnings, and that there would be life again, with God's people back on their own land, and the most ordinary of human transactions, including those of real estate, resuming once again. That's why Jeremiah orders his secretary, Baruch, whom we meet for the first time here but whose role bears further reflection, to copy and preserve these documents of sale not only for verification but for future generations who will read them and be inspired to hope in their own day.

Even though Jeremiah himself wouldn't live to see this happen, he wants to make sure that his descendants would see in the good times the hand of God fulfilling ancient promises, and would, in the bad times, hold fast to those same promises of abiding, faithful love and compassion by a generous but demanding God. As Gary Peluso-Verdend puts it, the hope will live on, even if Jeremiah didn't. And this message, and witness, are for us today, as well, Lisa Davison writes: "Looking forward instead of backward is a testament to our faith and trust in God's ultimate control and desire for a world filled with peace and justice."

Are you paying attention, God?

It must be noted here that even Jeremiah struggled with all of this, and that may be, in a way, encouraging to congregations today. In the passage that follows the lectionary text, Jeremiah has one of those weary, anxious prayer-times with God. He reviews a long list of God's good deeds toward Israel, God's mighty deeds and faithfulness, in spite of the people's sins, "but"--there's that important word--but, for heaven's sake, aren't you paying attention, he asks God, to what's happening out there, on the wall, where the enemy has put up ramps as it lays siege to Jerusalem, fully intending to destroy it, and to end at last the story of the people of God? Are you sure you really want me to be buying land at this point?

And of course, God responds with a long message of judgment against the people, beginning with the wonderful question, "I am the Lord, the God of all flesh; is anything too hard for me?" Many verses into the speech, God says, "Just as I have brought all this great disaster upon this people, so I will bring upon them all the good fortune that I now promise them. Fields shall be bought in this landÖ.for money, and deeds shall be signed and sealed and witnessedÖfor I will restore their fortunes, says the Lord" (32:42-44). As James Newsome writes, we are reassured that "judgment is not the final word. Beyond judgment, beyond destruction, beyond the justice of God there is restoration, mercy, salvation!" After the bitterness of exile, there will be homecoming, and joy, once again.

Having enough trust to question God

Perhaps we struggle with the idea that God would allow, or even will, the destruction, of Jerusalem and its--God's own--people. It's only a short step, after all, from there to saying that any group or nation that suffers somehow deserves it. This is a tension within the Old Testament narrative, and indeed in the life of faith for us as well, for our actions are not without consequence or consequences, and it's only natural to view our circumstances, whether ancient invasion or modern-day foreclosure, illness, and heartbreak, through the lens of God's will for our lives.

I have found that to be the most helpful way to approach many narratives, as if I'm looking through the lens of someone who is doing theological reflection on a situation, and struggling to find meaning in, to understand, what is happening to them. Isn't that what Jeremiah is doing, in his anguished prayer, full of questions for God? And doesn't it require a kind of faith, of trust, in God even to pose such questions?

Who are we as a community of faith?

There's also a subtext here of how to define or at least describe the community of faith. According to Sharon Peebles Burch, Israel was undergoing a transformation in its identity, one that we might apply to ourselves as well. When Jeremiah spoke of a new covenant with God in chapter 31, he was calling the people to think of themselves in a new way, remembering that God was willing to make a new beginning with Israel, with torah planted in their hearts rather than engraved on a stone. That's how closely they would be identified with torah, Burch writes, how closely their lives would embrace God's law as their identity rather than geographic, cultic or tribal connections.

How might that describe a local congregation as well? Are we dedicated to God, and the things of God? What really connects us within our congregations and gives us common ground on which to worship? Do we care more, perhaps too much, about "the way we've always" worshipped, our "cultic" traditions (this chair has always been placed right here in the chancel, and the minister always leads this part of the service), or which people and groups hold rights and place within the life of the church?

Are we Jeremiah, or Baruch?

We could also focus our attention on Baruch the secretary, for we might not be called to be "foolish" people of faith as much as the ones who watch them, and learn from them, and help them in their work. Michael E. Williams imagines what Baruch may have been thinking as he performed this "no ordinary task since we were living in no ordinary time." Maybe Jeremiah was crazy, but Baruch claims that "[w]ithout those God-crazed Jeremiahs among us we would fall more oftenÖ. Perhaps in times like these our only hope is found in such outrageous faithÖ.Others of us can only stand aside and marvel at such faith or foolishness. And we can record for future generations the lives and words of God's outrageous faithful. We are the Baruchs."

Walter Brueggemann observes that the earthenware vessel is not the only receptacle of this witness, because "the biblical text itself" ensures that it will be passed down to future generations rather than lost. We don't have the deed but we have the evidence that supports the hope of Israel, and our hope as well. He also points out the way this story is one more that illustrates how "the Bible holds together faith claims and the realities of public life. Unless both factors are present, the significance of this episode collapses," for this is a story about the plans and intentions of a faithful and loving God who has plans for Israel, despite all appearances right now: "God intends a good life for this people after exile."

Life will never be the same, but it will go on

I remember that awful time after 9/11, when we were still reeling from the effects of the terrorist attacks, and many of us thought that life would never be the same. Of course, it isn't the same, but life has persisted, sprung up, and flourished in many ways, even as we grieve our loss and struggle to rebuild on the dust of the destruction. When we in the church today root our identity in texts like this one from Jeremiah, we have to discern how God is calling us to live on, to thrive, in a new day, no matter what empires--materialism, hatred and xenophobia and prejudice, militarism, sexism, racism or more--may threaten us.

When we read texts like this one from the prophets, we can find inspiration and promise, and ultimately, firm hope and trust in God, no matter how bad things appear at any given moment, in the life of the community, or in our own private, all-encompassing griefs. No matter what happens, Brueggemann writes, "The world does not culminate on Babylonian terms, because God has post-Babylonian intentions for Judah," and for them, and for us, "Life begins again, out of chaos!"

Living as stewards of God's treasures

Gary E. Peluso-Verdend draws on this text in order to direct our attention to the importance of stewardship in the life of Jesus' followers, and to the church's responsibility to be able to speak about human desire in its theology of stewardship. Living our lives as "stewards rather than owners," he writes, "can raise speed-bumps for us when we have taken a questionable road in pursuit of 'more'" instead of focusing on God and one another. In the life of faith, loving God and our neighbor is the deepest desire of our heart.

When we read in the text that Israel's sins involved idolatry, Peluso-Verdend makes the connection between ancient offenses and those of our own time and place, for we know that we too are guilty of idolatry, of worshipping the false gods of our own culture and time. And yet he does find hope in the stories today of wealthy people who have the vision to use their wealth for the greater good, both short-term and long-term, with their own version of "earthen jars" bringing life to people they will never meet or know.

In his book of prayers, Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth, Walter Brueggemann evokes the sense of anxiety in this story from long ago, as he prays about our situation today, with threats and dangers always on our hearts and minds, from natural disasters and terrorism and calamities of every sort. God's word, however, "cuts the threatÖsiphons off the dangerÖtames the powers," and tells us, "do not fear." And so, we learn to live in hope and trust in God's presence with us, always, rather than living "in our feeble anxiety," for "you veto our anxietyÖ." Come by us here, he prays, and "give us faith commensurate with your true, abiding self. Amen." Amen!

A preaching version of this commentary (with book titles) is athttp://www.ucc.org/worship_samuel.

The Rev. Kathryn Matthews (matthewsk@ucc.org) retired in July from serving as dean of Amistad Chapel at the national offices of the United Church of Christ in Cleveland, Ohio (https://www.facebook.com/AmistadChapel).

You're invited to share your reflections on this text in the comments on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SermonSeeds.

For further reflection

Francis Bacon, 16th century 
"A sudden bold and unexpected question doth many times surprise a man and lay him open."

Danny Kaye, 20th century
"I wasn't born a fool. It took work to get this way."

Oscar Wilde, 19th century
"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."

Ralph Waldo Emerson, 19th century
"People only see what they are prepared to see."

Henri Matisse, 20th century
"There are always flowers for those who want to see them."

Audre Lorde, 20th century
"When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."

Meister Eckhart, Sermons of Meister Eckhart, 14th century
"The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God's eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love."

Victor Hugo, Les MisÈrables, 19th century 
"Nothing is more imminent than the impossible...what we must always foresee is the unforeseen."

Barack Obama, 21st century
"The best way to not feel hopeless is to get up and do something. Donít wait for good things to happen to you. If you go out and make some good things happen, you will fill the world with hope, you will fill yourself with hope."

Maxine Hong Kingston, 20th century 
"In a time of destruction, create something." 

Obama speaks about 9-11

Fifteen years ago, a September day that began like any other became one of the darkest in our nation’s history. The Twin Towers were reduced to rubble. The Pentagon was in flames. A Pennsylvania field burned with the wreckage of an airplane. And nearly 3,000 innocent lives were lost. Sons and daughters, husbands and wives, neighbors, and colleagues and friends. They were from all walks of life, all races and religions, all colors and creeds, from across America and around the world.

This weekend, we honor their memory once more. We stand with the survivors who still bear the scars of that day. We thank the first responders who risked everything to save others. And we salute a generation of Americans -- our men and women in uniform, diplomats and our intelligence, homeland security and law enforcement professionals -- who serve, and have given their lives, to help keep us safe.

A lot has changed over these past 15 years. We’ve delivered devastating blows to the al-Qaida leaders that attacked us on 9/11. We delivered justice to Osama bin Laden. We’ve strengthened our homeland security. We’ve prevented attacks. We’ve saved lives.

At the same time, the terrorist threat has evolved, as we’ve seen so tragically from Boston to Chattanooga, from San Bernardino to Orlando. So in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria and beyond, we’ll stay relentless against terrorists like al-Qaida and ISIL. We will destroy them. And we’ll keep doing everything in our power to protect our homeland.

As we reflect on these past 15 years, it’s also important to remember what has not changed -- the core values that define us as Americans. The resilience that sustains us. After all, terrorists will never be able to defeat the United States. Their only hope is to terrorize us into changing who we are or our way of life. That’s why we Americans will never give in to fear. And it’s why this weekend we remember the true spirit of 9/11. We’re still the America of heroes who ran into harm’s way; of ordinary folks who took down the hijackers; of families who turned their pain into hope. We are still the America that looks out for one another, bound by our shared belief that I am my brother’s keeper, I am my sister’s keeper.

In the face of terrorism, how we respond matters. We cannot give in to those who would divide us. We cannot react in ways that erode the fabric of our society. Because it’s our diversity, our welcoming of all talent, our treating of everybody fairly -- no matter their race, gender, ethnicity, or faith -- that’s part of what makes our country great. It’s what makes us resilient. And if we stay true to those values, we’ll uphold the legacy of those we’ve lost, and keep our nation strong and free. God bless you, and God bless the United States of America.

Prayerful Living

Prayerful Living

September 18, 2016 

Written by Kathryn Matthews

Sunday, September 18
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Focus Theme
Prayerful Living

Weekly Prayer
O God, you call us to embrace both you and the children of this world with unconditional love. Give us grace to discern what your love demands of us that, being faithful in things both great and fall, we may serve you with an undivided heart.

Focus Scripture
1 Timothy 2:1-7

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings should be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity. This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself a ransom for allóthis was attested at the right time. For this I was appointed a herald and an apostle (I am telling the truth, I am not lying), a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth.

All Readings For This Sunday
Jeremiah 8:18-9:1 with Psalm 79:1-9 or
Amos 8:4-7 with Psalm 113
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Luke 16:1-13

Focus Questions

1. What are the core truths of your faith, the "non-negotiables"?

2. How do you reconcile separation of church and state with our sense of being "a Christian nation"?

3. Who do you believe is "really" in charge of things?

4. Why, and how, should we pray for our leaders?

5. When have you seen someone persecuted for their beliefs?

Reflection by Kate Matthews

If this letter to Timothy was written in Paul's name late in the first century, a generation or two of early Christians had passed from the scene. Jesus had not returned as expected before the apostles themselves died, and persecutions and trials and resistance, including expulsion from the synagogues, had been part of the Christian experience for many years. Even when the emperors weren't actively persecuting and executing Christians as Nero and others did, they were nevertheless pagans, and the Roman Empire itself was thoroughly pagan. It was clear, too, who was in charge of earthly affairs, with troops, money, and power of every kind in the hands of those pagans.

This is an opportune moment, then, for the author of the letter to remind young Timothy, who has been working hard to strengthen the new church in Ephesus, that it's really God who is at work in all things, which means that neither Timothy nor the emperor himself is actually in charge or in control of what happens. In such an age, not unlike our own, earthly rulers might have been awed by their own power and might, and their subjects might have cowered, too, and wondered where to place their trust. "Paul" writes to his beloved colleague, Timothy, clarifying things: there is only one God, not a bunch of competing ones, and there is such a thing as truth, and you can count on it because we have received it from the One true mediator, Jesus Christ.

A need for breathing space

At first reading, this passage (like so many others) may seem to mean something different from what was intended by its author. Many see in its beginning a kind of blessing on our governmental leaders. While we might pray for our leaders because they carry great responsibilities and stand in need always of God's wisdom and guidance, this passage seems to be referring more to the need of those early, besieged Christians for some breathing space, some peace and quiet in which to go about their business. As Gary E. Peluso-Verdend explains, "The author does call Christians to pray for rulers for a specific reason that has nothing to do with divine support of the empire. The author commends the practice of praying for rulers in order that Christians can go about God's work in peace."

Indeed, the author doesn't say that the believers should blindly obey the rulers: "Being prayerful for political leaders is one thing," Carl R. Holladay writes; "being blindly submissive is quite another." This is hardly a sellout to the powers that be, in fact, such a peace facilitates the conversion of the surrounding culture, for the author, writes Robert W. Wall, intends that "the congregation should pray for the conversion of their pagan leaders as the means of social reformÖ.The public prayers of the Christian community hardly reflect a program of social domesticationÖbut a Christian mission that boldly evangelizes the surrounding pagan culture from top to bottom."

Being leaven in any age

Perhaps leading a prayerful life is a way of being leaven in any age, no matter how small and seemingly powerless you may be in the midst of a large and intimidating culture. We imagine, then, the tiny little Christian churches long ago as leaven in the oppressive culture of imperialism and brute power that surrounded them. Many of our best traditions and examples from that time tell the story of the power of leaven to change everything. How does that speak to us today, especially when the church feels so much smaller, so much more powerless in the face of larger forces at work in our own time? How would you name those larger forces, and are we always aware of them as oppressive, or would we more accurately call them seductive, as in materialism, militarism, and privilege of any kind?

Not just the rulers deserve our prayers, the author says, but everyone does. And that's not all, just in case you weren't feeling challenged enough already: God desires that every single person will be saved. No one is worthless, no one is beyond God's thoughts or the reach of God's mercy. It isn't my God against your God, but our one God who loves everyone. The Extravagant Hospitality witness of the United Church of Christ could use this passage as one of its foundational texts, because religious wars throughout the centuries and in our own time and even within our churches have been waged over the question of who is included in the plans and hopes and heart of God. Paul himself had to make the case over and over that his mission to the Gentiles was legitimate and ordained by God, in spite of opposition and condemnation by those who felt they were simply being faithful.

What is truth?

The hope of God that all will be saved is paired with the hope that all will "come to the knowledge of the truth," that is, the truth of the gospel. Perhaps this is where we get into trouble as religious people, and it may be at the root of the resistance of so many people today who say they are "spiritual, but not religious." If "religion" refers to what binds us together, isn't it "the truth" that does that binding? Indeed, Beverly R. Gaventa has written insightfully about the tension between the "narrowness that has sometimes plagued theological debates" and the need for "an important warning," provided by this text: "Not every assertion that claims to be the gospel does so rightly." And yet that's often the sticking point, because we find it so difficult to discern what it is that holds us together, the "non-negotiables," if you will.

The challenge in the church today is to re-examine what we have been taught, wrestle with it, and prayerfully discern the heart of the gospel message that is true in every age and every setting. I've found Brian McLaren's excellent book, A New Kind of Christianity, as well as Marcus Borg's fine book, The Heart of Christianity, to be particularly helpful in a long, careful process of reflection on the core (the "heart") of Christian belief and practice. These two scholars come from very different starting points, which makes them all the more valuable, for they illustrate how we can find that common ground that will support a richly diverse Christian community.

How will we find the way?

How, then, are we to make our way and to live faithfully in a country where we are, for the most part, free from the persecution suffered by these early Christians, in fact, where the "powers that be" actually call themselves Christian? The letter provides important and helpful instructions: remember that there is one God ("God is God, and you're not") and that God loves every single person and doesn't want to lose a single one (last week's reading about lost coins and sheep is helpful here), and, in every case, pray always. Eugene Peterson's translation in The Message begins beautifully with the simple words, "The first thing I want you to do is pray."

Pray first, last, and at all times, and pray not just for yourself and your own, but for all of God's children. If we pray in all things and in all times, perhaps it won't be so hard to get along with one another, and with our rulers and kings, as we make our way toward the truth.

For further reflection

L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, 20th century
"Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or in the deep, deep woods and I'd look up into the sky--up--up--up--into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer."

Corrie ten Boom, 20th century
"Is prayer your steering wheel or your spare tire?"

Thérèse de Lisieux, 19th century 
"For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy."

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, 20th century
"You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance."

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, 19th century
"Be not forgetful of prayer. Every time you pray, if your prayer is sincere, there will be new feeling and new meaning in it, which will give you fresh courage, and you will understand that prayer is an education."

Soren Kierkegaard, 19th century
"Prayer does not change God, but it changes the one who prays."

Satchel Paige, 20th century
"Don't pray when it rains if you don't pray when the sun shines."

Frederick Douglass, 19th century
"I prayed for twenty years but received no answer until I prayed with my legs."

Henry Ward Beecher, 19th century
"It is not well for a man to pray cream and live skim milk."

Mahatma Gandhi, 20th century
"Prayer is the key of the morning and the bolt of the evening." 

Growing in God's Love

Growing in God's Love

  

September 11, 2016 
Written by Kathryn Matthews

Sunday, September 11
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Focus Theme
Growing in God's Love

Weekly Prayer
When joy is gone and hearts are sick, O God, you give us Christ as our healing balm. He came in human flesh, that he might give himself as a ransom for our salvation and anoint us with the Spirit of consolation and joy. Hear the cry of your people, that we may rejoice in the richness of your love and be faithful stewards of your many gifts. Amen.

Focus Scripture
1 Timothy 1:12-17

I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners--of whom I am the foremost. But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen. 

All Readings For This Sunday
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28 with Psalm 14 or
Exodus 32:7-14 with Psalm 51:1-10 and
1 Timothy 1:12-17 and
Luke 15:1-10

Focus Questions

1. Whose story has helped to nurture and inspire you in your own life of faith?

2. Is there a character from literature who illustrates God's mercy at work in their life?

3. How do you think Timothy was feeling back in Ephesus after Paul moved on?

4. How do you respond to the word "testify" or "witness" in a faith setting?

5. As you look back on your life, what are moments of grace?

Reflection by Kate Matthews

It would be a good idea to read the Gospel text for this Sunday, Luke 15:1-10, along with this passage written in the voice of Paul, the great apostle, to his young protÈgÈ, Timothy. This short text from the beginning of Paul's letter goes well with the stories of Jesus about lost sheep, and lost coins, and the One who goes looking for them. (It's also helpful to read Eugene Peterson's beautiful translation of the entire letter in The Message: "I, Paul, am an apostle on special assignment for Christ, our living hope.")

It's also important to have a little background on the whole letter and the two that go with it, 2 Timothy and Titus, to form what are called the Pastoral Epistles. A careful reader will notice that there are subtle but important differences between these letters and the ones that, according to most scholars, were written by Paul himself. The HarperCollins Study Bible provides several clues that help scholars draw conclusions about the authorship of the letter: "Key Pauline concepts such as faith, law, and righteousness are treated quite differently, while a new emphasis on godliness, sound teaching, church order, and good works appears."

Paul, keeping in touch

In the ancient world, it was accepted practice to write in the voice and name of a great and respected teacher, and that appears to be what is happening here, with "Paul" writing in the name of the great Paul the Apostle, but with a somewhat different set of priorities pressing on him. The Apostle Paul traveled around the Roman Empire, teaching and gathering people into communities of those who wanted to follow Jesus not just on their own but in community, the kind of community we call a church. Even after he left a church behind, he still cared about it and wrote letters back to it, offering advice and encouragement, and today our churches hear these letters as if they were written to us as well. 

This particular letter is addressed to Timothy, working hard in his new-church-start pastorate in Ephesus. Now that the churches have been planted and the people have joined them with great enthusiasm, there's a lot of work to be done to help them thrive, to grow in God's love, and besides, you know how people are: every time we come together, whether we form a book club or start a religious order, organize a softball league or get married--dare we say, "establish an institution"--there are going to be matters to be handled, questions, challenges, and of course a few rough spots along the way. 

Establishing his credibility

Paul is writing back to his young friend to encourage and guide him, and he begins his letter of instruction by establishing his credentials, or at least his credibility, that is, by reminding Timothy that he, Paul, was "the foremost" of sinners, and yet one whose life was transformed by the power of God's mercy and grace. Everyone knows his story, when he--a man of deep and sincere faith--was so sure of himself and the rightness of his cause, back when he was persecuting Christians, before God knocked him off his horse and blinded him until his heart and mind were opened to the grace of Jesus Christ in his life. 

That call on the road to Damascus, the experience of life-changing grace and his response to it, gives Paul authority to write the things he is about to tell Timothy. Surely, his own story would inspire and encourage sinners of somewhat lesser magnitude. 

Potluck, Prayer and Praise

There are several ways to approach this text, in addition to reading it with the Gospel text. We might consider the power of personal testimony, even though mainline Protestants and Roman Catholics alike tend to get a little uncomfortable when people start "testifying" to what God has done in their lives. I remember years ago when our church had a monthly "Potluck, Prayer, and Praise" gathering where folks came together to eat a light supper and then hear the story of one member's spiritual journey. 

These accounts--testimonies--were heartfelt and amazingly effective in connecting us one to the other, that is, in building the community and nurturing our spiritual growth--helping us to love God more. We didn't draw together simply to "swap stories": those experiences were framed by the greater picture of God's all-encompassing love, compassion, and faithfulness. Our gatherings were an opportunity to shine the light of the gospel on our lives, and they were undergirded by God's great mercy and grace. Like Paul, that's what folks talked about: God's grace at work in their lives.

Are we jaded about stories?

In his thought-provoking reflection on this text, William P. "Matt" Matthews acknowledges our discomfort with personal testimony, and even our jadedness: "Perhaps we are a bit dulled to the before/after lives of the John Newtons," he writes. Perhaps we're a little "standoffish like the prodigal son's elder brother," or "suspicious and polluted with more than a tinge of envy. Whatever the reason, our neighbor's news that he has seen the light elicits more queasy stomach than glad heart." While Matthews, like other writers, observes that young people--Generation X, Millennials, and whoever is coming after them--are better reached by personal stories of the experience of grace, I think everyone, including the oft-maligned Boomers, responds to honest, open sharing. 

As the remarkable effectiveness of Twelve-Step programs (and really great churches as well, including the example above) illustrates, the right setting for such sharing is crucial. We're not just listening to the stories of others until we get a chance to pour out our own. There is something underneath the sharing and the hearing, something that helps us to make sense of it, to seek and find meaning in our mistakes and the grace that has set us free from them. 

Matthews, like many scholars, finds this foundation and framework in the words and deeds of God in Christ, in Scripture ("the larger communal story of God's people"), and in the community of faith of which we are a part. Perhaps this explains why we need the church, in order to preserve the core tradition, some kind of "institution" to nurture our growth in God's love, in every generation.

Telling that old, old story in a "frantic post-9/11 world"

In the church, in our preaching, teaching, and Bible study; in our trustees meetings, our youth group gatherings, our church school classes; in our works of mercy and compassion and justice; at our potlucks, our small-group gatherings, our mission days; in our stewardship witnesses and our signs out front and even in our messages in the media, we're telling the old, old story again, and we're telling our own stories in light of that ancient one. This story is not just up in our heads, although it's enriched and informed by the teachings of those who have gone before us, and the contributions of learned scholars in every age whose wisdom helps us to open up the mysteries of life lived in the light of the gospel. 

The current interest in generational differences helps to illuminate this text, and our life of faith at the same time. Jane Anne Ferguson provides excellent material for reflection that might go on in every one of our church gatherings at this beginning of a new program year, as she asks, "Who are the Pauls and Timothys of the twenty-first-century church?" Her description of the youth and young adults raised in the church actually sounds a lot like the generation that raised them, who taught them to "question and discern what they believe for themselves," to "believe in the inclusion and acceptance of all people," to be "passionate about changing their world." Like every generation before them, they have inherited a world full of problems, but still, a most beautiful and promising world nevertheless. 

The world we live in

Ferguson's description of a "frantic post-9/11 world".a pluralistic religious world where claims of exclusive paths to God cause strife or oppression at the very least and terrorism at the extreme," is particularly timely (and painful) in light of our current election rhetoric about Muslims, refugees, immigrants, and all "the others" we have chosen to fear first and get to know later, if at all. Her reflection reminds me of Steven Sondheim's observation in his musical, "Into the Woods," that our children are listening to everything we say, and how we say it. (They can certainly hear and see what our campaign ads and speeches are saying.)

She also challenges "the Pauls of our time" to "share intimately with the Timothys their confessions of faith, their personal relationships with God, their questions and doubts, as well as affirmations and celebrations," for younger people in every generation "want to know if there is substance behind the ancient language of the church. The Pauls of the twenty-first century are being invited to reexamine the language of Christian faith, not to dispose of it, but revitalize it, to reframe it for twenty-first ears." What an awesome responsibility for the Boomers today and in the decades to come!

The least likely are chosen

We also read in this short passage another example of that puzzling but enduring theme that Lisa Davison finds in Scripture from the very beginning: that God chooses the most unlikely candidates to carry out God's mission. "No matter how unworthy we might feel, God can still use us for making the world a better place," she writes. God does not see us through human eyes, or measure us with human measurements: "The good news is that God does not use the same criteria; all God requires is that we say 'yes' when we are called." 

Perhaps we feel even more than inadequate; we may feel that we are unworthy, or too marked by sin and failings. Consider sin and failing undone, Paul writes. Robert Wall remarks on Paul's sense of the power of God actively at work in our lives to transform even the weakest of us: "Paul's idea of God's mercy is active: mercy is a verb of God's activity that is conjugated in Paul's own experience." It's interesting to think of mercy as a verb rather than a noun, which suggests a thing that can be measured or held back. A verb suggests change, movement, vitality, and perhaps even unpredictability. How does that sound to you?

So many stories, so many lessons

Two illustrations from literature (where there is an abundance of such illustrations, of course) come to mind. The writing of Anne Lamott is one great song of unconventional praise to God's grace; in fact, her best-known book, "Traveling Mercies," tells one story after another about that "verb" in motion in her own life. "I don't know why life isn't constructed to be seamless and safe," she writes, "why we make such glaring mistakes, things fall so short of our expectations and our hearts get broken." 

Still, like Paul, Lamott knows that grace is always there, underneath it all, that it's "unearned love--the love that goes before, that greets us on the way....Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrassed and eventually grateful as you are to be there." This is a good description of our most life-filled churches, and her images provide creative ways to think of the Holy Spirit, as "light or electricity or juice or breeze"; in any case, Lamott's story is testimony at its best, and it goes right to our hearts. [One of her other books focuses on this subject, Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith.]

"A new experience"

Speaking of going right to our hearts: so does the story of Celie, told in letters, in Alice Walker's classic book, The Color Purple, but the novel's character who may best illustrate God's mercy and grace inexorably at work in his life is Mister, or Albert, Celie's abusive husband. His transformation is slow and almost imperceptible, until the end of the book, when he reflects back on his life and the terrible things he has done, and articulates a simple but clear new perspective on things, a kind of theology of wonder: "I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ast.ÖThe more I wonder, he say, the more I love." 

This painful process (painful not just for him but for those he has hurt) has eventually led to transformation, as Celie recounts to her sister: "when you talk to him now he really listen, and one time, out of nowhere in the conversation us was having, he said Celie, I'm satisfied this the first time I ever lived on Earth as a natural man. It feel like a new experience." A "new experience" made possible by grace, the promise that hope is not lost, that no one is beyond the reach of God's grace, not Paul, not Mister, not any of us. 

Wonder and love and grace

Wonder, and love. Again, Peterson's translation in "The Message" is clear and lovely: "The whole point of what we're urging is simply love--love uncontaminated by self-interest and counterfeit faith, a life open to God".Grace mixed with faith and love poured over me and into me." Just as Celie, in "The Color Purple," sings her own kind of doxology to "Dear God. Dear stars, dear trees, dear sky, dear peoples. Dear Everything. Dear God," so Peterson translates Paul's praise and thanksgiving in elegant terms: "Deep honor and bright glory to the King of All Time--One God, Immortal, Invisible, ever and always. Oh, yes!" And our response to all of this beauty? Perhaps W.H. Auden provides the best, and simplest, guidance: "I know nothing, except what everyone knows--if there when Grace dances, I should dance."

A preaching version of this commentary (with book titles) is athttp://www.ucc.org/worship_samuel.

The Rev. Kathryn Matthews (matthewsk@ucc.org) retired in July from serving as dean of Amistad Chapel at the national offices of the United Church of Christ in Cleveland, Ohio (https://www.facebook.com/AmistadChapel).

You're invited to share your reflections on this text in the comments on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SermonSeeds.  

For further reflection

Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith, 20th century 
"Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrassed and eventually grateful as you are to be there." 

Nadia Bolz-Weber, Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint, 21st century 
"Grace isn't about God creating humans and flawed beings and then acting all hurt when we inevitably fail and then stepping in like the hero to grant us grace--like saying, 'Oh, it's OK, I'll be the good guy and forgive you.' It's God saying, 'I love the world too much to let your sin define you and be the final word. I am a God who makes all things new.'"

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, 20th century 
"You will never cease to be the most amazed person on earth at what God has done for you on the inside." 

Simone Weil, 20th century
"Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself, which makes this void."

Frederick Buechner, 20th century
"Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day's chalking."
and 
"The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you. There's only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you'll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too."

Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality, 21st century 
"When one of my friends becomes a Christian, which happens about every 10 years because I am a sheep about sharing my faith, the experience is euphoric. I see in their eyes the trueness of the story."

Thomas Merton, 20th century
"Grace is not a strange, magic substance which is subtly filtered into our souls to act as a kind of spiritual penicillin. Grace is unity, oneness within ourselves, oneness with God."

Martin Luther, 16th century
"Grace is given to heal the spiritually sick, not to decorate spiritual heroes."

Thomas Aquinas, 13th century
"Grace is nothing else but a certain beginning of glory in us."