Grace must find its expression in life, otherwise it's not grace.          
                                                           -Karl Barth

Reading:
“The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. After he agreed with the workers to pay them a denarion, he sent them into his vineyard.

“Then he went out around nine in the morning and saw others standing around the marketplace doing nothing. He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I’ll pay you whatever is right.’ And they went.

“Again around noon and then at three in the afternoon, he did the same thing. Around five in the afternoon he went and found others standing around, and he said to them, ‘Why are you just standing around here doing nothing all day long?’

“‘Because nobody has hired us,’ they replied.

“He responded, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’

“When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the workers and give them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and moving on finally to the first.’ When those who were hired at five in the afternoon came, each one received a denarion. Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more. But each of them also received a denarion. When they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, ‘These who were hired last worked one hour, and they received the same pay as we did even though we had to work the whole day in the hot sun.’

“But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I did you no wrong. Didn’t I agree to pay you a denarion? Take what belongs to you and go. I want to give to this one who was hired last the same as I give to you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with what belongs to me? Or are you resentful because I’m generous?’ So those who are last will be first. And those who are first will be last.”
                                                      -Matthew 20:1-16 (CEB)

Refection:
It is difficult not to focus on the vineyard workers and apply our economic system to the situation in this parable. Every one of the workers in this parable ends up earning the exact same pay regardless of how long they worked. Those who worked the full day were paid a denarion and they were happy to make this money. That is, until those who were hired later in the day and even those who only worked a very short time ended up being paid the exact same wage. Most of us would have grumbled in this situation because from our view point it just isn't fair!

But what happens when we change our focus? What happens if we look at this parable from the viewpoint of the landowner? The landowner gave those hired early in the day what he had promised. The landowner valued all of the workers the same, regardless of when they were called to work. They were all worthy of the denarion in the landowner's eyes. 

Let's change the word "denarion" now into the word "grace". 

At the end of the day, do we still want to argue about fairness? Or will we accept God's generous gift? It's difficult to change our focus from the way our society works but Jesus asks us time and again to see it all differently. He asks us to open our eyes and see from the viewpoint of the Kingdom of God. Might it be time to change our focus?

In the early Negro Spiritual tradition, African Americans met in camp meetings and sang without any hymnbook. Songs were composed on the spot, inspired by their immediate circumstances. These early songs were called sperichil – spiritual songs – the spontaneous response of faith to life’s challenges and mysteries.

In comparison to this musical tradition, it occurs to me that we preachers got it plum easy. We have the luxury of extensive preparation before delivering a sermon: hours of research on the exegesis of the biblical passage; consideration of what others have said about the text, and the sermon topic; time to rehearse the delivery of the sermon; and so on and so forth. It also occurs to me, however, that it is easy for this process of sermon crafting to become mechanical and impersonal, and lose the possibility of a spontaneous and heartfelt response of faith to the topic at hand.

And this can be huge. If you are a fan of Jazz music, you know how powerful, penetrating, and inspiring improvisation can be. And one can readily imagine how moving were the songs in the sperichil tradition. Who knows? Maybe it’s the lack of improvisation and spontaneity that dooms many sermons to be dry, detached, impersonal, and – let’s face it – boring… Did I forget to mention boring?

This Sunday @ OPCC, we will make a concerted effort to give spontaneity and improvisation free reign in the sermon, in the hope that unfettered faith might just have something significant to share with us. So please peruse the gospel reading below, meditate on its meaning, and come Sunday prepared to pose questions about its nature and significance. You will have the opportunity to submit your question, and the sermon will consist of faith’s response to these questions. This will not be an occasion to stump the preacher, to show her or him up by posing really difficult questions; rather, this will be an opportunity to let the sincere voice of faith speak. It may not be polished, it may not be eloquent, but we can hope it will be authentic.

Oh, and by the way, if you can please get your questions to me by Saturday afternoon…


READING:
Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that the Son of Man is?’ And they said, ‘Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ And Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.’ Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.    
                                            - Matthew 16.13-20    

God revealed a sublime truth to the world when he sang, “I am made whole by your life. Each soul, each soul completes me.”                                                             
                      - Hafiz 

READINGS: 
God, brilliant Lord, everyone knows your name – Majestic! Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs that drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble. I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, Moon and stars mounted in their settings. Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way? Yet we’ve so narrowly missed being gods, bright with Eden’s dawn light. You put us in charge of your handcrafted world, repeated to us your Genesis-charge, Made us lords of sheep and cattle, even animals out in the wild, Birds flying and fish swimming, whales singing in the ocean deeps. God, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world.                
                                 - Psalm 8 (The Message; adapted)

Meanwhile, the eleven disciples were on their way to Galilee, headed for the mountain Jesus had set for their reunion. The moment they saw him they worshiped him. Some, though, held back, not sure about worship, about risking themselves totally. Jesus, undeterred, went right ahead and gave his charge: “God authorized and commanded me to commission you: Go out and train everyone you meet, far and near, in this way of life, marking them by baptism in the threefold name: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Then instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you. I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.”
                                - Matthew 28.16-20 (The Message)

REFLECTION:
Sunday is the day we set aside to contemplate Trinity; God as Three-in-One and One-in-Three. Yeah, I know; doesn’t make much sense, does it? At least, its meaning doesn’t exactly jump off the page. And there is certainly no model in the natural world to help us understand this puzzling notion of God that perplexes the most penetrating minds.

For example, one Christian theologian back in the day (way back in the day!) said of his doctrine of Trinity that he had not said nearly enough or that which is most important; but wrote at all to avoid being silent. More recently, Barbara Brown Taylor has resorted to poetic language to speak of Trinity. She compares it to a Zen Buddhist koan, the one most widely known in the western world, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” Trinity, that is to say, is impenetrable mystery, like one hand clapping; only in this instance it is the sound of three hands clapping.

By this point you might be thinking, “Why bother to continue? Why not stop while we are ahead?” Why set aside a day on the Christian calendar to celebrate that which we have no chance of understanding? Why waste a worship gathering on such an abstract and distant concept?

I would respond that it is worth our while to examine Trinity because of the power of the poetic images that give it substance. These beautiful metaphors offer snippets of insight, they point toward something awesome and wonder-full; they provide fleeting glimpses of a God too rich for words, too real for any reality we know, too big for the universe as a whole, too small for the most intimate expression. Pay close attention, listen intently, delve more deeply; and Trinity will speak to you. Trinity will speak, not like an objective description of God or knowledge about God. Rather, Trinity will speak in the voice of poetry that will meet you in the middle of your lived experience with comfort, insight, understanding, and always a healthy dose of challenge.

I don’t want to preach Sunday’s sermon in my blog post, which is designed to help us prepare for worship, but let me mention what I consider to be the heart of Trinity’s meaning for our day, and its challenge to our collective lived experience. Many would trace the chaos and disarray of our society in the good ol’ U. S. of A. to the loss of any notion of a common good, an interweaving of lives, a dependence on and responsibility to each other. In its place is an exaggerated notion of individual freedom, and the right to live my life as I choose; period, end of story. No longer do our personal freedoms end at the intersection of the rights and needs of others, but exist absolutely and independently of anyone else.

Here’s the rub; when God’s life is contemplated as the model and inspiration for our own, as is emphasized from cover to cover in our Christian bible, this self-absorbed and over simplified notion of our personal life and freedom is challenged to its core. Why? Because God – listen closely to the poetry of Three-in-One and One-in-Three – God is always "we." God is always community. God is always completed in rich, intimate, relationship. Hafiz heard this voice; that is why he could give expression to the profound statement quoted above, “God revealed a sublime truth to the world when he sang, “I am made whole by your life. Each soul, each soul completes me.”

This image – the poetry of Trinity – has far reaching implications for the way we understand and live our life. I encourage you to reflect, pray, and listen for the soft, poetic voice of God that can and should inform our relationships.

I look forward to our time together on Sunday when we gather for a shared experience of worship. This week we worship at 9:30 am. Next week, however, we will begin our experimental summer schedule: intimate, informal worship at 8:30 am, and at 10:30 our primary worship gathering, which intentionally focuses outward, trying to meet the worship needs of a wide swath of folk, including new additions to our faith community. This worship includes both traditional and contemporary elements, woven into a progressive and unique worship style.