"How Shall We Be Known?" and "Taxes to the Emperor"

THE NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Year A, Lectionary 29

October 19, 2014

1 Thessalonians 1:1-10

Matthew 22:15-22

Pastor David Tryggestad

Concordia Evangelical Lutheran Church

Duluth, Minnesota

The painting of the side of the church was completed this week. Now, when the sun shines, you can hardly bear to look directly at the side of the building for the brilliant glare.

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

About a year or so ago in the sauna at the YMCA, I was talking about Concordia. One of the guys asked where we were located. He’s not from around this neighborhood, so when I described the location, he had to think about it for a while. He wondered if we were Glen Avon Presbyterian down Woodland Avenue. When I told him we were further north, just below Hartley Nature Center, he asked, “Are you the church with the big stain on the side?” “Yes, that’s Concordia,” I said.

“How appropriate,” I said, “to be known as the church with the big stain on the side. Our theology holds that we are both saint and sinner, and the stain of sin is always with us.”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

Just last week I had a conversation with a member who is not sure that it’s a good thing that the church is freshly painted. “The stain reminded me of the blood of Jesus,” she said. I thought to myself, “It’s a good thing to be constantly reminded of the source of our salvation.”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

A month of so ago I ran into an acquaintance of mine who is a member of another church of another denomination here in Duluth. It’s a congregation that worships in an exquisitely beautiful building, and they have a large endowment to keep the facility in perfect condition. The first thing he said to me was, “When are you going to paint your church and get rid of that big stain on the side of the building?”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

How will we be known?

Many years ago Kennan Callahan wrote a book, Twelve Keys to an Effective Church. His research indicated that effective churches that bring satisfaction to their members have ministries that change people’s lives. He also noted that poorly kept facilities detract from effective ministry and lead to dissatisfaction in ministry. I’m thinking of the stain on the side of our building. But what was intriguing to me was that, when deficiencies in facilities are corrected—like a new paint job—the end result it not higher satisfaction in the overall ministry. In other words, the elimination of dissatisfaction does not, in and of itself, result in satisfaction. I suspect that in a few weeks, no one will drive past the church and exclaim: “Look at the new paint job!” Rather, it will be taken for granted. It’s expected that a church—or any public building—will keep the facilities in good repair.

So that brings me back to my question that has become my mantra: So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

We will not become known as the church that painted over their stain.

This takes us to our Second Reading from the Apostle Paul, his First Letter to the Thessalonians:

And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspirited by the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia an in Achaia. For the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith in God has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it. For the people of those regions report about us what kind of welcome we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols, to serve a living and true God . . . (1 Thessalonians 1:6-9)

“For the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you . . . in every place your faith in God has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it.”

Imagine a church that has no need of advertising—no billboards, no radio spots, no newspaper ads. Imagine a church that has no need of advertising, because “the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you” and “in every place your faith has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it.”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

The church in Thessalonica—and throughout Macedonia—northern Greece—became known for their generosity. Hear Paul in his Second Letter to the Corinthians: “. . . for during a severe ordeal of affliction their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part” (2 Corinthians 8:2).

Scholars are unanimous in telling us that First Thessalonians is the first letter of Paul that we have, dated from around ten to fifteen years after the death of Jesus. It is the earliest Christian writing we have. Ancient coins discovered in Thessalonica indicate that people in the city honored Julius Caesar as “God” and worshiped Emperor Octavian as a “son of God.”

This brings us to our Gospel. The Jewish leaders, trying to trap Jesus, ask, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor—Caesar—or  not?” Jesus asks them to produce a coin and they present a denarius, a Roman coin with Caesar’s head on it. As it was considered idolatry to pay homage to any graven image other than to God, the Jewish leaders have already indicted themselves by having in their possession such coins.

We have a bird feeder outside our dining room, and our favorite thing to do is to sit and watch the many birds that come to feast. The problem is that the squirrels have managed to outsmart the so-called squirrel-proof feeder. This past week, almost immediately after I had once again filled the feeder to the top with birdseed, one particular squirrel came and held forth over his newly-claimed kingdom. He chased all the other squirrels away and scared off all the birds. The birdseed was his and his alone. I grieved for all the birds he chased away.

I thought about us and our human penchant to believe that all that we have is ours and ours alone. Meanwhile our Lord is watching through the dining room window, lamenting that we guard so closely the abundance the Lord gives to us, intended that we might bless others. Our Confirmation lessons these past two weeks have been about God’s Covenant with the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, that God blessed them to be a blessing.

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

Our Lord is calling us to be glad and generous stewards of all that God has given us. What would it take for Concordia Lutheran Church to be known to the community as the church of generosity?

Thanks be to God!

No Wedding Robe?

THE EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Year A, Lectionary 28

October 12, 2014

Isaiah 25:1-9

Psalm 23

Philippians 4:1-19

Matthew 22:1-14

Pastor David Tryggestad

Concordia Evangelical Lutheran Church

Duluth, Minnesota

I have had the privilege to officiate at three weddings in the past eight days, and what fun it has been! While all of my efforts in weddings are focused on the marriage service itself, I never cease to be astonished at all the preparation that goes into making the wedding reception a spectacular event. The décor, the table linens, centerpieces, placer settings, individual favors, delicious meals. Everyone has on their finest, giving honor and gratitude to the newly married couple and their families.

This past Wednesday at our weekly Sandwich & Scripture Bible study, someone remembered having seen an article in the paper about a wedding that had been cancelled, and the family of the bride opened up the reception, with all its festivity and finery, to the homeless in Atlanta. The article in the newspaper was entitled, “Atlanta couple hosts ritzy meal for homeless after daughter cancels wedding.”[1] 

 

After Carol and Willie Fowler's daughter called off her nuptials, the Fowlers decided to give the upscale, four-course meal to 200 of Atlanta's poor. A kind-hearted Atlanta couple made the best out of a bad situation by donating their daughter's canceled wedding reception to the homeless. Carol and Willie Fowler decided that the first-rate meal they had reserved . . . at upmarket Villa Christina restaurant shouldn't go to waste — so they invited 200 of the Atlanta's destitute to join them. Bosses at Hosea Feed the Hungry charity initially thought the offer to feed their attendees a lavish four-course meal was a practical joke. But the Fowlers . . . insisted they were sincere — and the event went ahead, albeit with a new list of invitees. "It was my husband's idea," Mrs. Fowler [said]. "We prayed about it. And when he woke up the next morning, he said, 'We're going to call Hosea Feed the Hungry and ask if we can donate it to the needy,'" she added. Many of the guests were not accustomed to the gold plates and crystal stemware at Villa Christina, nor the formal presentation of the food. “The passed hors d’oeuvre were very interesting because the children were wondering, ‘could we take the whole tray, or do we just take one off of the tray?’” . . .

I can’t imagine the wonder on the faces of those 200 guests, especially the children, most of whom had never seen a linen napkin, let alone a gold plate.

Now imagine one of the guests being ungrateful, being rude, or complaining about the menu, or maybe having to sit next to someone her or she didn’t like.

Our Gospel for today is another difficult text. We’re not so sure we want to hear about the king sending soldiers to kill the reluctant guests and burn their city. We’re perplexed by the king having one of the guests thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

In a recent conversation in the sauna at the YMCA, a man who belongs to another ELCA congregation in Duluth asked me how we pastors decide what scripture texts to preach on. I explained that we, along with many other major denominations, share a lectionary, a set of readings on the three-year rotation. I told him that we sometimes are faced with difficult texts, as a result, texts that we might not otherwise choose, had we the choice.

This is one of those difficult texts.

One of the highest honors one could bestow on another in the ancient world was to offer hospitality, especially lavish hospitatality. It was lavish, not to impress the guests and glorify the host (though, no doubt, that was sometimes a motive), but it was lavish in order to bestow honor and dignity to the guest. It was especially gracious to offer hospitality to those who could not repay, who could not reciprocate.

The occasion of the wedding of the king’s son was no doubt something talked about for a very long time, and the guest list would have been carefully deliberated. The wedding parties of the three weddings these past eight days no doubt took great pains to come up with their guest lists.

Imagine no one showing up. No one! Not one! Hardly anything could be more insulting.

Our parable is filled with hyperbole, with exaggeration. The reluctant guests kill the king’s messengers. So the king kills the guests and burns their city. A bit over the top, perhaps. Scholars tell us that Matthew wrote his gospel after the Romans destroyed and burned Jerusalem. Our parable is perhaps a reference to that cataclysmic event.

Meanwhile, the dinner is getting cold!

I offered the blessing at the reception this past Friday night at the Holiday Inn, and the very moment I said, “Amen,” an army of wait staff came rushing through the door from the kitchen into the dining room to serve the first course. Imagine telling the kitchen staff to put the dinner on hold until the king had finished sacking the city of the recalcitrants and then sending servants into the highways and biways to gather everyone they could find.

My stepmother always chafes when my dad prays over dinner, because he tends to pray for everyone in the family, especially those no present, while the dinner is getting cold.

Imagine the cooks in the king’s kitchen holding dinner.

Finally the wedding hall is filled with guests, both bad and good.

It is important to note that the king has declared the first guest list as “not worthy.” They were “not worthy” because they refused the hospitality offered by the king. Now the wedding hall is filled with both bad and good. We can see here that worthiness does not have to do with moral rectitude, with being bad or good. Evidently even the bad are welcome to the wedding banquet. The original guests were not worthy, not because they were bad, but because they were ungrateful.

Now we are once again astonished at the king. He comes into the wedding hall to see his guests and sees that one of them is not wearing a wedding robe, a customary cloak, or something at least clean. I imagine one of the wedding guests at these recent weddings coming to the dinner in pajamas, or just rolling out of bed, not bothering to shower or shave.

The story is outrageous on many accounts. It’s not about our attire; it’s not about having the latest fashions. It’s about coming to God’s marvelous table, to God’s overflowing abundance, with a sense of wonder and gratitude. It’s having a willing and joyful spirit. It’s joining the Apostle Paul in singing, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say Rejoice!”

As our Gospel writer Matthew tells this story, it’s much harsher than a similar story as told by Luke. Matthew is seeing the early church take God’s grace with complacency, without gratitude. He is troubled that members of the Body of Christ take discipleship so blithely, so lightly. He grieves that there are those who come to the church to receive its benefits without investing in the health of the ministry of the congregation.  

Our Sunday School children are making Praise Sticks today—those we have been using previously were borrowed from CHUM Church. Coming to worship with your Praise Stick is like wearing your wedding robe. Why would anyone come to worship without their Praise Stick?!

Come to the wedding banquet. And bring your Praise Stick. “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again, I say, Rejoice!”

Thanks be to God!

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     [1]http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/homeless-enjoy-woman-canceled-wedding-article-1.1464704 (accessed October 11, 2014).

Sermon October 5, 2014 "Vineyards, a Marriage Box, and Us"

THE SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Year A, Lectionary 27

October 5, 2014

Isaiah 5:1-7

Psalm 80:7-15

Philippians 3:4b-14

Matthew 21:33-46

Pastor David Tryggestad

Concordia Evangelical Lutheran Church

Duluth, Minnesota

Yesterday I had the privilege to officiate at a wedding here at Concordia. Instead of lighting a Unity Candle after repeating vows and exchanging rings, the couple had placed a wooden Marriage Box on the altar, into which they put copies of their vows, their wedding program, and the scripture readings from their wedding. As the years pass, they will put significant mementos of their life together inside the Marriage Box, including photos and letters to each other. As such, each of them will make deposits into this box, which represents their marriage, and they will never withdraw more than they deposit. If one were to do that, the box would be empty, the marriage would suffer; the promises would be broken, and the relationship destroyed.

I have been thinking about the Marriage Box in relation to our readings for today. Three of our texts have to do with vineyards.

In our Gospel, the landowner carefully planned and established a vineyard: he built a fence around it, he dug a winepress in it, and he placed a watch tower inside it. We can imagine that the vineyard produced rich and juicy grapes, an abundant harvest! At harvest time, the landowner sent slaves to collect his portion of the harvest, which constituted his rent, all according to the agreement he had made with the tenants. The tenants had decided, however, not to honor their agreement and rather to keep all of the harvest, all of the produce for themselves. So they beat and killed the slaves. The landowner, being persistent, sent more slaves, and the tenants did the same thing. Finally, the landowner sent his son, saying, “They will respect my son.” In a plot to steal the inheritance, the tenants killed the son. Not only did they refuse to offer back the landowner’s rightful share of the harvest, they attempted to swindle the landowner of the entire vineyard.

If the vineyard were a Marriage Box, the tenants took out more than they had put in. The relationship is destroyed.

Jesus asks the question, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”

If the vineyard were a Marriage Box, the tenants took out more than they had put in. The relationship is destroyed.

Our First Reading from the prophet Isaiah is one of the most beautiful love songs in all of scripture, and it is also one of the saddest. The prophet is singing of his “Beloved”—God—who has established a vineyard:

Let me sing for my beloved
my love-song concerning his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard
on a very fertile hill.
He dug it and cleared it of stones,
and planted it with choice vines;
he built a watchtower in the midst of it,
and hewed out a wine vat in it;
he expected it to yield grapes . . . (Isaiah 5:1-2)

We hear a parallel with the story of Jesus, which Jesus told many centuries later. It seems the theme is the same.

But why is this love song a sad one?

. . . he expected it to yield grapes,
but it yielded wild grapes.

God, the lover, has done everything for the vineyard. God asks the rhetorical question:

What more was there to do for my vineyard
that I have not done in it?
When I expected it to yield grapes,
why did it yield wild grapes? (Isaiah 5:4)

If this vineyard beloved of God were a Marriage Box, the tenants, the inhabitants, who were squandering the fruit of the vine, not tending to the vine, would be putting lies into the box, at the same time taking out the love of the other while putting nothing back.

Again, the relationship is destroyed.

What if the vineyard from both our Gospel and Isaiah were Concordia Lutheran Church? What love song would God sing to us?

My beloved had a vineyard
on a very lovely plot of land,

nestled against a nature preserve and a running creek.
He dug it and cleared it of stones,
and planted it with faithful people;
he built a magnificent sanctuary the midst of it,
and hewed out of solid granite

a baptismal font in which to call the people his own,

an altar from which to offer forgiveness of sin,

and a pulpit from which his promises would be proclaimed.
He expected it to yield a harvest of faithfulness,

a harvest of generosity,

a harvest of abundance;

he blessed them that they might be a blessing;

he expected them to yield grapes . . .

If our Gospel for today were Concordia Lutheran Church, the landowner would send messengers looking for a portion of the harvest, the first fruits, from glad and generous hearts. The landowner would not be looking for the messengers to be dismissed and killed and the people of the congregation holding tight to our own harvest, holding tight to what we claim to be ours.

Consider Concordia Lutheran Church a Marriage Box: Are we taking out more than we are putting in? We cannot take out more than we give. A congregation cannot function, let alone be healthy and thrive, when we take out more than we give.

I am intrigued by a certain detail in our Gospel for today:

Jesus asks the question, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”

Notice that it is not Jesus who pronounces judgment on the people; it is the people themselves. The people put themselves in the place of the landowner and pronounce judgment on themselves. We can find relief and hope in that it is not God who pronounces judgment.

The parable in our Gospel is often referred to as the “parable of the wicked tenants.” The focus is on the tenants. But that focus is misplaced. The parable is about God. It is God who is the actor; it is God who is the owner; it is God who comes again and again to us, looking for a response, looking for fruit.

Jesus pronounces judgment on the religious leaders of his day: “Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”

When our Lord comes to us, may it be that he finds us producing the fruits of the kingdom.

Thanks be to God!