Peace, All! Here's the sermon I shared at Cross Lutheran in Milwaukee on July 9! Finally got it up here. You can watch the sermon and the whole service at this link. Hope you all are well.
Remember, if you are reading on a phone, turn it horizontally for a better read!
Peace! ~ Tom
[ image source ]
"But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds."
~ Jesus, Matthew 11:16-19
“I prayed for freedom for twenty years, but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.”
~ Frederick Douglass
[Good Morning & Prayer]
I. Thomas’ Conversion: A Pious Faith
Ever since this guy named Thomas
(not the guy in the Bible–a different one)
had a spiritual experience
that convinced him to convert to Christianity,
things in his household had changed.
The most noticeable of those changes,
at least to those around him,
was a change in the way that Thomas spent his mornings.
Once filled with attempts at curing hangovers
and shouting matches with his family,
and kneeling on the bathroom floor,
much to the relief of everyone,
Thomas’ mornings were now somehow filled with prayer.
Each day, just before dawn,
Thomas would nudge his wife, Rowena,
to wake her up and together they’d walk
down the hallway,
passed the kitchen that was on the left,
and into the most eastern room of their home.
And it was there that they would fall on their knees,
with their faces to the rising sun,
giving thanks to God for the great abundance they shared together–
while also asking,
as we sometimes do,
if it was possible,
for a little bit more.
Amen?
And then, after that, they’d just start the rest of their day
with their hearts seamibngly filled with gratitude,
and a sense (maybe even a certainty) that God was watching over them.
Amen?
But
little did they know, God was not the only one who was watching.
For, in that kitchen, (the one that they walked by so often) there was a young man named Frederick.
And Fredreick, like Thomas, was about to have a conversion experience of his own.
+++
Before I tell you about that: a few notes on conversion in some parts of the Bible.
II. Biblical Pious Faiths
Thomas’ story of faith is a story that’s not unfamiliar in the scriptures.
A rich person, a king, a ruler, a shepherd, some person walking down the street…
the scriptures are filled with people like Thomas who,
upon one spiritual experience or another,
change
something of their behavior–
dedicating their lives to prayer or fasting
or to some other form of worship and praise
sometimes dedicating their whole lives or even the life of their firstborn child to the temple.
People who become “church people” we might say in our context, and church people who are kind of extreme.
Full of fervor and of a desire to feel God’s presence again and again and
(at least this is often the case in the Bible)
to follow whatever law or rule or Thou-Shalt-Not
assigned by some person wearing a collar,
by a priest or a pastor,
and every behavior that is prescribed by social conventions or other authorities.
They do this, of course, so that they can be as certain as possible
that they are holy
and sanctified
and tried and true in the sight of God
and so that the spiritual moment lasts,
and so they might be embraced by the Divine forever.
The first spiritual experience is free, this theology of faith suggests, but then you’ve got to pay to keep the subscription.
Amen?
Often, converts like this can be zealous people.
Pure and certain and abstaining
from anything that might bring shame.
Saying and thinking and touching nothing and no one
that might be unclean.
More often than that, their conversion, if I may risk a label this morning, is a conversion to what is sometimes called, a “Faith that Behaves” and a religion that prefers a bible that works like a rule book, and that doesn’t evoke the anxiety that comes with grappling with the complexities of life.
The black-and-white nature of this faith is comforting for those who embrace it, but (of course) quite dangerous for those who find themselves living in the gray–and especially for those whom society or religion has marginalized or left falling between the cracks.
Perhaps this is why these believers are so angry and venomous toward John the Baptizer when he appears in the wilderness.
And perhaps this is why they call Jesus so many awful names in our gospel text this morning.
Thomas’ story of faith is a story that’s not unfamiliar in the scriptures.
A rich person, a king, a ruler, a shepherd, some person walking down the street…
the scriptures are filled with people like Thomas who,
upon one spiritual experience or another,
change
something of their behavior–
dedicating their lives to prayer or fasting
or to some other form of worship and praise
sometimes dedicating their whole lives or even the life of their firstborn child to the temple.
People who become “church people” we might say in our context, and church people who are kind of extreme.
Full of fervor and of a desire to feel God’s presence again and again and
(at least this is often the case in the Bible)
to follow whatever law or rule or Thou-Shalt-Not
assigned by some person wearing a collar,
by a priest or a pastor,
and every behavior that is prescribed by social conventions or other authorities.
They do this, of course, so that they can be as certain as possible
that they are holy
and sanctified
and tried and true in the sight of God
and so that the spiritual moment lasts,
and so they might be embraced by the Divine forever.
The first spiritual experience is free, this theology of faith suggests, but then you’ve got to pay to keep the subscription.
Amen?
Often, converts like this can be zealous people.
Pure and certain and abstaining
from anything that might bring shame.
Saying and thinking and touching nothing and no one
that might be unclean.
More often than that, their conversion, if I may risk a label this morning, is a conversion to what is sometimes called, a “Faith that Behaves” and a religion that prefers a bible that works like a rule book, and that doesn’t evoke the anxiety that comes with grappling with the complexities of life.
The black-and-white nature of this faith is comforting for those who embrace it, but (of course) quite dangerous for those who find themselves living in the gray–and especially for those whom society or religion has marginalized or left falling between the cracks.
Perhaps this is why these believers are so angry and venomous toward John the Baptizer when he appears in the wilderness.
And perhaps this is why they call Jesus so many awful names in our gospel text this morning.
III. Conversion to the Poor
In the Bible, there is another kind of conversion. It is a conversion that theologians like James Cone and Leonardo Boff, among others, have called a “Conversion to the Poor.”
Most often this kind of conversion does not take place immediately or in the flash of an instant like the scales falling from the eyes of Saint Paul.
But, rather, it’s what psychologist William James referred to as a conversion of “the educational variety,” meaning that a Conversion to the Poor is most often the result of
deep reflection,
deep relationships with peers,
and deep listening over time,
sometimes for years or for decades, even–
Listening not just to preachers or priests like me (Amen?)
but also (and more so) to the world around us–taking note of the suffering and of the oppression and of the pain,
and wondering (as Pastor Michelle encouraged us to do last week) just what it might be that the prophets and the Holy Spirit are dreaming of for our little corner of the world today;
wondering what their dream is for the healing and the resurrection of the body or the uprising of the crucified people in this place;
Such dreaming, by its very nature, is not a faith that “behaves,” but, of course, a faith that is willing to transgress what is for the sake of what ought to be.
A Conversion to the Poor: This is exactly the kind of conversion that Frederick was having as he stood in the kitchen day after day watching and listening to Thomas pray.
In the Bible, there is another kind of conversion. It is a conversion that theologians like James Cone and Leonardo Boff, among others, have called a “Conversion to the Poor.”
Most often this kind of conversion does not take place immediately or in the flash of an instant like the scales falling from the eyes of Saint Paul.
But, rather, it’s what psychologist William James referred to as a conversion of “the educational variety,” meaning that a Conversion to the Poor is most often the result of
deep reflection,
deep relationships with peers,
and deep listening over time,
sometimes for years or for decades, even–
Listening not just to preachers or priests like me (Amen?)
but also (and more so) to the world around us–taking note of the suffering and of the oppression and of the pain,
and wondering (as Pastor Michelle encouraged us to do last week) just what it might be that the prophets and the Holy Spirit are dreaming of for our little corner of the world today;
wondering what their dream is for the healing and the resurrection of the body or the uprising of the crucified people in this place;
Such dreaming, by its very nature, is not a faith that “behaves,” but, of course, a faith that is willing to transgress what is for the sake of what ought to be.
A Conversion to the Poor: This is exactly the kind of conversion that Frederick was having as he stood in the kitchen day after day watching and listening to Thomas pray.
IV. Frederick's Conversion to the Poor (which was also a conversion to himself)
It is probably important to note here that Frederick was already a Christian. In secret, he would read as much of the Bible as he could. And even more, he’d listen to the preacher who would be invited to the estate by Thomas’ family to preach to Frederick and his friends.
Indeed, Frederick, too was already burning with piety and a desire to “behave rightly.”
And he trusted that the preacher, preaching from the Bible, would teach him just what good and righteous “behaving” should look like–assuming that this would make his life (or at least the afterlife)
more
bearable.
However, as of late, Frederick was beginning to have his doubts.
“Thou shalt,” not kill, Frederick learned–which still made sense, of course.
“Thou shalt not lie.” And so on.
This he could mostly handle.
But what troubled Frederick (or, more precisely, what troubled him the most) was when the preacher would open up the Pauline epistles–Ephesians and Colossians–and, on occasion, even the book of First Peter.
For, though at least 1,800 years had passed since the writing of these texts, the preacher, when he preached, offered them no nuance and no context.
Rather, he would read them in the English language of King James and interpret them as if they were meant to be implemented,
verbatim and without apology,
today.
Especially, the preacher emphasized, “Children, obey your parents,” “Wives be submissive,” and more than any other, at Thomas’ house where Frederick lived, “Slaves: OBEY YOUR MASTERS.”
+++
And so Frederick, young Frederick, full of faith,
[thank God!]
was beginning
to doubt.
For not only was Frederick that young man who watched from the kitchen with God each morning.
And not only was he an already-Christian.
But Frederick also was a worker in that kitchen.
And Frederick was a young man who, nonetheless,
was starving.
For whatever feast that he and his peers would prepare, aromas filling the house,
begging to be placed on the tongue of Thomas,
Frederick and his peers would eat none of it.
Not because they didn’t want to.
But because, according to the law,
Frederick and his peers, in that kitchen,
(by Thomas and Rowena)
were men and women who were enslaved.
And even though they prepared the food in the house, they were not allowed to eat it.
If they were caught sneaking even a taste, they risked being punished severely.
They risked being labeled as a thief.
+++
“Thou shalt not steal.” “Obey your masters.”
Believing the preacher, Frederick had once taken these to heart.
And Yet, as of late, he was beginning to doubt.
No.
Not doubt.
Doubt is the wrong word.
As of late (rather) Frederick was beginning to have a conversion of that second variety.
Frederick was beginning to have a Conversion to the Poor
which in this case was also a conversion to himself. Amen?
And as a result, Frederick was beginning to ask some questions.
“Who benefits from these commandments about which the white preacher loves to preach?”
It is probably important to note here that Frederick was already a Christian. In secret, he would read as much of the Bible as he could. And even more, he’d listen to the preacher who would be invited to the estate by Thomas’ family to preach to Frederick and his friends.
Indeed, Frederick, too was already burning with piety and a desire to “behave rightly.”
And he trusted that the preacher, preaching from the Bible, would teach him just what good and righteous “behaving” should look like–assuming that this would make his life (or at least the afterlife)
more
bearable.
However, as of late, Frederick was beginning to have his doubts.
“Thou shalt,” not kill, Frederick learned–which still made sense, of course.
“Thou shalt not lie.” And so on.
This he could mostly handle.
But what troubled Frederick (or, more precisely, what troubled him the most) was when the preacher would open up the Pauline epistles–Ephesians and Colossians–and, on occasion, even the book of First Peter.
For, though at least 1,800 years had passed since the writing of these texts, the preacher, when he preached, offered them no nuance and no context.
Rather, he would read them in the English language of King James and interpret them as if they were meant to be implemented,
verbatim and without apology,
today.
Especially, the preacher emphasized, “Children, obey your parents,” “Wives be submissive,” and more than any other, at Thomas’ house where Frederick lived, “Slaves: OBEY YOUR MASTERS.”
+++
And so Frederick, young Frederick, full of faith,
[thank God!]
was beginning
to doubt.
For not only was Frederick that young man who watched from the kitchen with God each morning.
And not only was he an already-Christian.
But Frederick also was a worker in that kitchen.
And Frederick was a young man who, nonetheless,
was starving.
For whatever feast that he and his peers would prepare, aromas filling the house,
begging to be placed on the tongue of Thomas,
Frederick and his peers would eat none of it.
Not because they didn’t want to.
But because, according to the law,
Frederick and his peers, in that kitchen,
(by Thomas and Rowena)
were men and women who were enslaved.
And even though they prepared the food in the house, they were not allowed to eat it.
If they were caught sneaking even a taste, they risked being punished severely.
They risked being labeled as a thief.
+++
“Thou shalt not steal.” “Obey your masters.”
Believing the preacher, Frederick had once taken these to heart.
And Yet, as of late, he was beginning to doubt.
No.
Not doubt.
Doubt is the wrong word.
As of late (rather) Frederick was beginning to have a conversion of that second variety.
Frederick was beginning to have a Conversion to the Poor
which in this case was also a conversion to himself. Amen?
And as a result, Frederick was beginning to ask some questions.
“Who benefits from these commandments about which the white preacher loves to preach?”
He began to ask.
“Who benefits?” is a very important question. Amen?
“Certainly not me,” he could easily answer.
“Who is really stealing from who here?”
“Have not these alleged Christians separated me from my mother and torn my family apart?”
“Have they not treated me, a human, as property–for which they give thanks as if I was a gift from God sent to them for their own personal use?”
“Have they not filled my life with abuse upon abuse upon abuse?”
These commandments, this preaching, this preacher, Frederick would conclude, are nonsense.
And more than that, what they are saying is evil.
“The Jesus I know is not concerned with blessing the wealth of enslavers,” he would come to believe.
Rather, he is concerned with the hungry filled, and the lifting up of those who are pressed down.
The Jesus I know is concerned with freedom
and the breaking of every chain
for those who are imprisoned or oppressed or enslaved.
The Jesus I know dreams of the powerful and the tyrants removed and cast away from their thrones.
In short, Frederick Douglass concluded, the Jesus of the Bible, the Jesus of our faith, “the Jesus I know is NOT the Jesus of this man, Thomas, who forces us to call him ‘Master,’ and who sees that we are hungry and yet doesn’t care, ultimately, if we live or if we are thrown away."
And the Jesus I know is not the Jesus of that preacher. The Jesus I know is nothing like that. The Jesus I know is nothing like the one they claim to believe in.
Thomas may have had a conversion experience.
But Freedrick, standing in that kitchen, had one, too.
And that night [or sometime soon after]
when the lamps had been extinguished,
Frederick and his friends
shared a feast.
“Who benefits?” is a very important question. Amen?
“Certainly not me,” he could easily answer.
“Who is really stealing from who here?”
“Have not these alleged Christians separated me from my mother and torn my family apart?”
“Have they not treated me, a human, as property–for which they give thanks as if I was a gift from God sent to them for their own personal use?”
“Have they not filled my life with abuse upon abuse upon abuse?”
These commandments, this preaching, this preacher, Frederick would conclude, are nonsense.
And more than that, what they are saying is evil.
“The Jesus I know is not concerned with blessing the wealth of enslavers,” he would come to believe.
Rather, he is concerned with the hungry filled, and the lifting up of those who are pressed down.
The Jesus I know is concerned with freedom
and the breaking of every chain
for those who are imprisoned or oppressed or enslaved.
The Jesus I know dreams of the powerful and the tyrants removed and cast away from their thrones.
In short, Frederick Douglass concluded, the Jesus of the Bible, the Jesus of our faith, “the Jesus I know is NOT the Jesus of this man, Thomas, who forces us to call him ‘Master,’ and who sees that we are hungry and yet doesn’t care, ultimately, if we live or if we are thrown away."
And the Jesus I know is not the Jesus of that preacher. The Jesus I know is nothing like that. The Jesus I know is nothing like the one they claim to believe in.
Thomas may have had a conversion experience.
But Freedrick, standing in that kitchen, had one, too.
And that night [or sometime soon after]
when the lamps had been extinguished,
Frederick and his friends
shared a feast.
V. Jesus Brings not Shame, but Salvation
When Jesus appeared before the crowds in the Bible (the crowds being a technical term for the 90% of the people in the Roman empire who between themselves only owned 10% of the stuff) he arrived before them not with judgment nor with a commandment to conform or ‘behave’ under Roman rule.
Rather, he arrived before them with a dream. A dream of God’s Reign of Love.
A dream that he dreamed aloud–and which he laid before them as a gift. Amen?
For those of us whose faith was tied up in the status quo, those of us whose faith was a Faith that Behaves, such dreams were received as folly, silly and stupid–the words of a sinner, a glutton, and a drunkard, neither fit for the Word nor for the Kindom of God.
But for those who were at the feast and feasting,
many for the first time in their lives,
5,000 at noontime on a hillside
or five in that room with Frederick under the cloak of the night;
for those who were at the feast,
When Jesus appeared before the crowds in the Bible (the crowds being a technical term for the 90% of the people in the Roman empire who between themselves only owned 10% of the stuff) he arrived before them not with judgment nor with a commandment to conform or ‘behave’ under Roman rule.
Rather, he arrived before them with a dream. A dream of God’s Reign of Love.
A dream that he dreamed aloud–and which he laid before them as a gift. Amen?
For those of us whose faith was tied up in the status quo, those of us whose faith was a Faith that Behaves, such dreams were received as folly, silly and stupid–the words of a sinner, a glutton, and a drunkard, neither fit for the Word nor for the Kindom of God.
But for those who were at the feast and feasting,
many for the first time in their lives,
5,000 at noontime on a hillside
or five in that room with Frederick under the cloak of the night;
for those who were at the feast,
Jesus was the arrival of salvation
and the
very presence
of God.
+++
+++
VI. A Prayer
May that presence be known in us, in this place, and in our misbehaving–now and always.
May that presence be known in us, in this place, and in our misbehaving–now and always.
And may Wisdom be vindicated by her deeds.
Amen.
Amen.
Good job! I knew the Fredrick was Douglass at the first “Rowena”.
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