Sermon, Pentecost +8 (B)

 Have you ever had a celebrity crush?

It’s not uncommon – we see and hear about people who are in the spotlight, and we imagine what it would be like to be near them – living in a utopian reality, feeling rather elevated just by being next to this person.

We’ve all been there. It’s normal.

And usually we think about celebrity crushes being a puppy-love kind of thing for teens and children; living in the “wouldn’t it be grand” fantasy, the imagined palaces and riches and grand livelihoods of being partnered with a movie star or sports celebrity or famous author.

But we know that adults continue in this attraction to the popular – attraction to celebrity. All you need to do is consider crowds outside of concert halls, or autograph-seekers outside a theater.

…and this is when the collective mentality seems to override logic. Our primitive lizard brains take over, and we see a crowd of people all racing after a person, so we join in. And inadvertently, our joining in the crowd makes other people join in as well.

And this is why celebrity, in our culture, includes security details barriers, etc.

…and… this isn’t a new thing. It’s not just modern society gone wild. Celebrity has always had a magnetic attraction for people – for crowds. We seem to have built in to us a fear of missing out, so we join the crowd… and we have a desire to be near the excitement – so we crowd in on celebrity.

Which is exactly what is happening in our scriptures today.

In the first reading, we have Nathan (whose name means “God has given”) being given the word of God, to approach David. David – that Rockstar of a king! He’s popular, he’s celebrated in the community, he’s revered by the crowds. And so, folks are less inclined to go near him and suggest that he change his ways.

But David is also faithful – knowing that he is there to serve the peoples – so he is able to her the message of God that Nathan gives.

He recognises that while he sleeps peacefully in a solid house, the ark of the covenant is in a casual tent. While he enjoys the security of being an established community, there are people of God who remain exiled. While he eats with abundance, there are people who go hungry.

And of his faithfulness, he is wise enough to listen to his advisors, and do the right thing: to shift away from a mentality of celebrity to a position of service and praise.

And because of this, the community celebrates him even more – because his actions are of God, and for the people of God. He uses his celebrity to do his ministry to the best of his ability, and so he is remembered throughout history not for his ruddy good looks and gentle eyes, but for his leadership as a child of God. Just re-read the psalm to see how that covenant is held up as prayer. David uses his celebrity to highlight the majesty of our God.

And the Gospel passage also takes us into the realm of celebrity crushes. Jesus and his disciples are attracting people left right and centre. We hear that “many were coming and going, and the disciples had no leisure even to eat.”

Eek. Now, that’s a problem – we all know what happens when we get overhungry. We don’t make the best decisions, our tempers are shorter, we don’t engage in the world in the best version of ourselves. And to eat in the ancient world was not a quick thing – these were not the days of microwaved leftovers and granola bars to go; meals were ideally times of sharing food and conversation; a space for repose and restoration of body and soul. A meal was full nourishment.

And the disciples had no leisure even to eat.

They’re tired. They just want a break. And for them, Jesus isn’t a celebrity, he’s their teacher – their companion – their friend.

And yet, the crowds don’t see it that way - the crowds keep coming for them – it’s no wonder they wanted to go away for a while.

They had become celebrities. People were crushing on them. Metaphorically, and physically.

So off they went, destined for a deserted place where they could just be themselves;

And the crowd is already gathered when they arrive. People desperate for Jesus.

They celebrity of Jesus was bigger than they had expected.

And: what a response. The compassion of Jesus was greater than the need for rest. For food. For restoration.

But again – this is where Jesus shows us what Jesus can do, that we cannot. Because Jesus recognises how hard they’ve been working, and takes over. He lets them rest, and eat, and be away from the crowds for a time – while he embraces the crowds full on.

He allows the celebrity thing to happen, because he knows that people are not just wanting a brush with fame; this is rooted more deeply in a desperation for the divine.

People are so desperate for God that they are crowding around to be near Jesus. His mere presence is enough for them: it brings healing.

Healing to their hearts and minds, to their souls and bodies.

The disciples rest, and the power of God continues.

The disciples are also recipients of the healing of God – not in the way that we hear of the miraculous healings of the folks in Gennesarat – but with the same level of enthusiasm and desire to be in the presence of God.

So it makes me wonder.

When was the last time that we felt magnetically drawn into the presence of God?

What has happened in our lives that makes us desire God more than anything else?

When have we been merely caught up in the crowd, and as a result discovered something miraculous and majestic is happening?

And we can extend this as we continue our prayerful discernment about where we focus our own energies, be they on celebrity or on God.

We acknowledge that we – most of us – live in a world of comfort and abundance – not unlike the realm over which David ruled. We don’t forage our own food, we don’t beg for scraps of clothing. We have enough – we have abundance.

And so these passages today remind us that whether we have great need, or great resources, we still come to God: for God provides the fullness of life – eternal life – that we cannot get from this world – regardless of how popular something is.

And we are reminded that wherever God is present – be it in the ark of the Samuel passage, or of Jesus stepping off a boat into the midst of folks experiencing need – the presence of God does not go unnoticed. And the desires of the people to be the community of the faithful does not go unanswered.

So we have that encouragement, to delight in the presence of God today: in our lives, in our faith journeys. To be honest with ourselves that we not only need a relationship with God, but that we WANT a relationship with Jesus. We want the health that only Jesus offers. We want the companionship that only comes through the power of the Spirit. We want the community that God created us to be in.

And we bask in the joy of that desire: an authentic wish to be closer to God. A genuine desire to love and serve God as we love and serve our neighbours. A profound attraction to the source of all love and all life – not as celebrity, but as divinity.

In doing this, we can draw others into this celebration of meeting Jesus: in a life of service and praise. Celebrating that Jesus is known: loved, followed, appreciated. And that Jesus is always greeting us – where we are, as we are, renewing our health and well-being.

Sermon, Pentecost +7 (B)

 Is anyone unnerved by today’s scriptures? Not just the violence of Herod’s bloody dinner party; but how the readings all seem to suggest realities that don’t *quite* jive?

Well, that may be because they are a bit off - unsettling, even, as something’s not quite right in them. And that thing is the invitation to change a mind – a perspective, an action, a practice – to better align with God’s will. And change – we know – is hard.

First, we hear of David’s enthusiasm in the presence of the ark of the covenant, that carrying case holding the stone Tablets from Moses’ mountain-top dialogues with the divine.

Of course people celebrated whenever they saw the ark, as it conveyed God’s presence among them - the continuity of God’s close presence from the past, through the present, into the future. And divine presence inspired a ritual. Great!

But – gradually, the ritual became more important than the presence. The particulars of the might of the dance, and the number of paces (6 only; not 5, not 7), the precision of food distribution.

In an effort to do things right, to the best of their ability – the focus had shifted away from the reason they were celebrating to the celebration itself; from the presence to the party.

We can fall into that trap too. We easily do things because we’ve always done them that way – and we can overlook the purpose of why we’re doing it. COVID helped us re-think many of the things that are important, inspiring new ways of doing them - like medical appoints by phone, birthday parties as drive-by parades, worshiping together in these weird and wonderful ways.

We were unsettled – our patterns and rhythms disappeared in a hurry - and we adapted. And the invitation remains, as we move forward, to continue adapting, so that our actions reflect our intentions: adjusting some existing patterns into newer expressions of our life in faith today. Dancing with the divine is still a thing; it can just look different.

Next – the psalm: the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it! Absolutely!

But… do we act that way? Let’s consider our relationship with the earth… and each other… and future generations… this psalm challenges us to change our mindset, as Christians, to see the sacred realities in ALL the world around us. To engage with the world and all that is therein – as divine gifts from God. Whether it’s the gorgeous hummingbird or the grimy earthworm, all are sacred; all are the Lord’s.

As the self-reflective creatures that God made us to be, we are called to recognise our unique responsibility – in caring for all of creation, for today and for tomorrows. Our decisions and lifestyles need not just be of economic short-term benefit for investors.

In walking gently on the earth, and with one another, we move towards a sustainable lifestyle; the integrity of our actions matching our words: the earth IS the Lord’s, to celebrate and take delight in– not ours to ravage. The earth is the Lord’s – the glorious one – and we are guests of the Lord of Hosts who reigns in glory.

We have the opportunity to be unnerved by how we, as modern society, have shifted away from celebrating this; and how we – as people of faith – can return towards a higher respect for the Lord’s earth.

The epistle feels gentle and comfortable, while inviting reflection on how we think about spiritual blessings.

Because Paul is writing to a divided and polarised community that is feeling, and acting, in an us-versus-them mentality.

We’d like to think we’re advanced beyond that type of primitive thinking, but start a conversation about politics, or gender rights, or the economy, or vaccines – GASP!!

We have social issues that divide us; and we aren’t always great at seeking common ground or mutual understanding. Us-versus-them – we’re still there.

And this letter reminds us of the power and beauty of changing our minds. NOT necessarily asking us to change our beliefs, but rather our engagement with one another about those beliefs.

Because we can disagree and still be kind; we can have different backgrounds and still be compassionate; we can have polarised perspectives and still be friends.

The letter to the Ephesians is a letter to our society today, encouraging us to be models of a new humanity, a new church, a new expression of God’s love and blessing.

And that can unnerve us a little bit, as we shift from personal justifications and socially-accepted divisions, to a community that celebrates God’s blessings for all. We grow when we understand that we don’t control God’s blessings, and that God’s grace is as abundantly lavished on the people we dislike as the ones we like.

So we change our mind: and delight in the harmony of being God’s people – all of us – as we move closer to bringing about the kingdom of God.

And… then the Gospel passage transports us to the gruesome awkwardness of Herod’s dinner party. I say awkward, because it’s Herod.

He’s a braggart; showing off to a full house of friends and acquaintances; and possibly some adversaries, too, in a political demonstration of power and authority. He’s playing to the crowd, piling on ridiculous promises to the exorbitant setting and the opulence of the feast.

Until: he gets in over his head (if you’ll pardon the pun).

He expected the dancing girl to ask for something monetary – gold, jewels, what have you - and instead she demands death. A visible, immediate, gory, irrefutable, death. On a platter, if you please.

While the logical thing would be for Herod to dismiss the girl with a financial payoff, his ego insists that the dinner guests not see him as being changeable or even weak; for the weak could be overthrown.

Rooted in his insecurities, desperate not to lose his sense of status and position; he agrees for John’s head to be removed.

It’s unnerving, to be sure. Not just for the violence, but for all of us to see the slippery slope of choosing what’s popular over what is right. Of choosing what is easy (Herod didn’t do the deed himself, after all) – over what is appropriate. Of choosing what is socially accepted or entertaining over what is just.

Like when we hear racist jokes, and don’t speak against them… or witness sexism, and don’t intervene… or any other activity that denies the full life and personhood of someone else. It’s easier to laugh nervously or turn away, when the target isn’t us; rather than speak up and maybe become the next target.

Slippery slope, indeed.

BUT: again, the word of God challenges us, and invites us to avoid that slippery slope altogether.

By using our words carefully: in what we promise, in what we offer, in what we say.

By using our actions carefully: in what we do, in what we leave undone, in what we turn a blind eye to.

And: by using our ministry carefully. For in our ministry – and we are all ministering to the world – it is in what we do that we become known: in the church, in our communities, in the world. And so we minister – not for our own glory, but for the Glory of God.

So let’s allow the scriptures, the words of God, to unnerve us how we need to be unnerved. Let’s be unsettled, when we recognise the unsettling realities in our own lives.

Let’s recognise the power of changing our minds, when that change brings us to thought, word, and action that moves us towards fulling living the Good News of God.

Because that change is not weakness, but a re-orientation to the core of who we are and who we want to be: beloved children of God:

So let’s be intentional with our lives, just as we are intentional with the lessons of the scriptures – and

Live with integrity.

Act with justice.

Love with abundance.

Trusting that we journey ever closer to our God.

Sermon, Pente+6 (B)

This week we’re hearing a difficult message; a message of people rejecting Jesus. Of people rejecting healing. Of people rejecting ministry.

At first glance this doesn’t look like a happy gospel – it’s one that has left many people scratching their heads and asking “So where’s the good news?” We hear of Jesus going home, and bringing his friends with him.

He’s just left the scene of tremendous healings – physical healings as well as a few miracle cures – and astonishing teachings. Jesus has not just laid hands on people and walked away, he has taught them – your faith has made you well! Salvation is at hand! Alleluia!

So now he’s come home. He’s come back to his hometown so that he can share the good news there.

And instead of the joyous homecoming that we all might have hoped for, he is rejected. He tries to teach in the synagogue, and is criticised for who he is – regardless of his message.

The past has taken over the present: a lack of father is a scandal, an unmarried man in his 30s is a scandal, etc. They are looking for any excuse to reject him – even ones that don’t matter or don’t make sense.

Because it’s as though the people have been caught in some temporal loop, where they are stuck in one old way of thinking, and are unable to see what is happening now. These folks knew Jesus growing up, and they still see him as that child – not even as an adult, not as someone with a beautiful ministry. Certainly not as their messiah!

No, he is seen as the same powerless child that he used to be. They want to see him that way, they have to see him that way for their internal dialogue to work.

And so, as we hear in the fifth verse, “he could do no deed of power there.” Except, of course, he did – in that same verse we hear that he could do nothing, except that he DID lay hands on people and provide miraculous cures. He did what he had done before so many times, he exercised his ministry. He lived out his calling to the best of his ability, with the folks that were willing to receive it – the sick, the vulnerable, the believers.

I’d imagine that Jesus still wanted and hoped that the people would see what was new and good, just like so many others in so many towns had done before. Yet this was not to be. These folks rejected his offerings; they refused to see that things had changed; they denied the truth that –literally – stood before them.

Is it any wonder, with this blatant and hurtful rejection, that Jesus and his disciples moved on? Not like a dog with its tail between its legs; for they did not move on with shame. Rather, they chose to move forward in ministry, with intent and passion. With a desire to live out their callings more fully, in places where they would be accepted. They’re not looking for a big celebration or accolades, just acceptance of the offering, and receiving of the gifts.

And so they go – not as one group, but in pairs. They go out into the world in half a dozen different directions to do exactly the same thing as bearers of the light – preach the good news, provide the ministry of spiritual healing, empowering people to take control of their own lives, engaging people in acts of faith.

The disciples are invited to do just as Jesus has done – to seek out people who WANT to hear the good news, and not waste time on those who have heard it yet choose to reject it. They were not to get discouraged or bogged down by the people who chose to keep their hearts and minds closed to Jesus.

And that’s what ministry is: the invitation. We don’t force people to come to Jesus, but we can invite them.

And THAT is the good news of this gospel – good news that is speaking to each and every one of us. It’s inviting us to examine our own lives and ministry and to consider what’s happening there; to consider our own approach to evangelism, and be encouraged to share the Good News as we, collectively, have experienced it.

But.

Sometimes, we get stuck in the past – we’re constantly thinking about what used to be, rather than seeing what is. We’ve somehow re-written history in our minds in such a way that the past is glorified – it was always good. We’ve somehow re-written the present in our minds in such a way that nothing’s good. And so we’re stuck, in that time loop like the citizens of Jesus’ hometown. Our lives become difficult and our ministries can be ineffective because they’re out of sync; they were meant for a different time and different people, yet we continue to do the same thing now as we did then – and expect different results from what we’re getting. Being stuck is not living the faith.

Sometimes we try something and it isn’t received the way we had hoped. And we consider this to be a failure. People can be paralysed by these ‘failures,’ moving from someone who used to be open to trying new ways to share the gospel, into people who can’t even be bothered making the effort. These are folks who see everything as a sign of personal rejection and so they just stop, they give up. It’s what could have happened in today’s gospel, when we hear how amazed Jesus is at the people’s refusal to believe. Any of the disciples could have just given up. But giving up, of course, is not living the faith.

So I see Jesus challenging us today to see things in our lives where we have gotten stuck or given up. We know that re-living the past doesn’t work, it’s like only reading one chapter in a book over and over again – you’ll never know what the rest of the story is. We know that we cannot convince everyone of the healing power of coming to Christ, all we can do is invite them to join us.

But we also know that sometimes we find ourselves stuck or giving up – and part of our ministry is to break free from these trappings ourselves, and to engage in our ministry in God’s world with renewed energy.

We’re being invited to consider what our ministry is today – not what it was yesterday, but what it IS today – and to dream about what it may be tomorrow. We’re invited to think about how we are exercising that ministry in the wider community today. We’re being challenged to go out into the world and to preach the good news, by word and by example – deciding that even if people are not ready to hear it, we’re still called to deliver it. And we’re inspired to carry on.

So this gospel does give us good news, indeed. It gives us the grace to realise that our ministry is never going to be perfect; but it was never meant to be perfect. What is perfect is the message itself, because it carries the power of God. The good news is that God gives us the faith to live in the present and to celebrate our ministry here and now. The good news is that God gives the courage to be tenacious about spreading the Gospel. The good news is that God gives us the strength to move beyond the people that will reject our Christian message twelve-fold. The good news is that God is always empowering us to be Christ’s followers, Christ’s disciples, Christ’s family. Amen.