More thoughts from ground level

Luke 19:1-10 and 2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12 

The Zaccheus story is a great text to read today. Many of you know this story and have heard it since you were a child. Its place in the gospel is to demonstrate just how far God’s goodness extends. We all need to be reminded to of how wide Jesus makes the circle. In that sense it’s a great text for Reformation Sunday.Zaccheus climbed a tree to see over the crowd since we all know from the song that he was a wee little man. But what if there was more to it than that? What if climbing the tree was as much about being able to watch Jesus from an inconspicuous spot, to see Jesus without being seen?

A good costume, Halloween or otherwise, can hide a lot. You might say Zaccheus is wearing a Sycamore tree for a costume. He can look out on the world anonymously, or so he thought. What happened that day was that that Jesus saw through his costume.Did Zaccheus hope Jesus wouldn’t notice him in the tree? Maybe he was also hoping to go unnoticed by the citizens of Jericho. They knew the other costume he wore: tax collector.

Jericho was a great city for tax collectors. I’ve been there. It’s a city built at an oasis in the middle of a dry wilderness, and everyone knows the rule about this: when you’re in a dry wilderness head for the oasis. People went through Jericho when they traveled, especially Galileans on their way to and from Jerusalem. This was how Jesus came to Jericho that day, and when he saw Zaccheus through the green leaves of his costume, he saw neither tree nor hated tax collector. He saw a son of Abraham, a person.

Once again Jesus teaches us to look at the person behind the costume. Just when we might keep walking and ignore the person we despise, or make a quick judgment about some we see, Jesus does the opposite. He shows us how far God’s grace reaches. We should know by this point in Luke’s gospel, that God’s grace—God’s goodness toward humanity—always extends farther where we think it should. The five chapters remaining in Luke will drive that point home, when Jesus walks up a hill to another tree to show the extent of God’s grace for the world. And that leads me to the other reason that the Zaccheus text is a great text for today.

It’s the 490^th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation in Germany. On October 31, 1517, Martin Luther, at age 33 tacked a piece of paper to a church door in Wittenburg, Germany. The paper contained ninety-five statements which challenged the practice and theology of the church, and with that, the Reformation of the Western Christianity had begun. Martin believed that our standing before God is not based on any human effort or merit but on trust in the divine promise of forgiveness found in Christ. In the cross and empty tomb, Christ sets thing right between humanity and God.

In the years after 1517, a similar reformation followed in Switzerland under the leadership of French and Swiss church leaders, Zwingli, Farel, Calvin, and Beza. John Knox took the ideas of the Swiss reformation back to Scotland. This is an amazing chapter in our history. And so with Zaccheus up a Sycamore tree today, on this Reformation Sunday I am reminded of the testimony of trees.When we were in California last week we saw some beautiful trees. Some are ancient giants.

We got a book for Jonah about a tree called the Wawona Sequoia. It grew for more than two thousand years. It was already three hundred years old when Jesus was born. It’s amazing to be close to a tree that old. In two thousand years can you imagine how much that tree endured? Deep snows, hot summer, dry spells, fires…We’ve all seen on the news this week many trees in California burning, but the ancient Sequoias have bark up to one foot thick and have endured many fires. That too is an amazing testimony of a tree.

Can you imagine the church to be a tree like that? The trunk would represent the early church. As the tree grew, the branches would grow and represent different Christian traditions. Today we remember the testimony of that great branch that is the Protestant reformation.That Sycamore in Jericho is a testimony as well. It’s a testimony to the message of forgiveness and grace. Zaccheus, come down from that tree, Jesus said. He came down a new person, no longer willing to use money to control others. He was done with a life like that. The testimony of that tree in Jericho is that Jesus makes the circle wide.

Jesus makes the same offer to each of us. Hurry and come down from that tree you’ve gotten yourself into, don’t worry about hiding in a costume, I want to stay at your house today. We’ve done nothing to warrant such an invitation. And in truth, the claim is completely true that Jesus has gone to the home of a sinner. What tree have you gotten yourself into?

In a season of stewardship, I pray that our response to the presence of God in our midst is like that of Zaccheus: to commit to serve God in the world not our own self-interest, to embody the gospel, to reach out to people in need, to discover some kind of inner-calling and to become more involved in the life of this church. We all need first to come down out of our trees before we can do any of that.

Zaccheus climbed a tree so he could see Jesus as he went by. Pisgah Church is called to be like that sycamore. We are called to help others get to a point that they too can see Jesus, to make sure that all who come through God’s doors here can hear his invitation to come and stay at their home, and experience a truly amazing grace. That is the testimony of that sycamore.

Did you know that most people become connected to a church because someone invited them? How many of you were invited here by someone? Is there someone you know who has no church home whom you might invite to come experience the promises of Christ announced and lived out by this congregation? One of our pews might be just the Sycamore tree they need to experience the grace of God. Give that small card in the bulletin to someone in weeks ahead and invite them to meet you here one Sunday. Leave the card in a place someone might find it. The card isn’t meant to be a book mark. We’ll get you a different card if you need a book mark. It’s meant to be an invitation, a way to let someone know that they are welcome here. You could write your number on the back.

Do you see the tree on the card? The testimony of trees is that they grow from a strong foundation. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Jeremiah 7:1-7 and 2 Timothy 1:8-14

I’ve been reading different parts of the prophet Jeremiah for the past couple of months. Something happened last week as I was reading chapter 7, that I’ve learned over time to pay attention to. It happened last month too when I was reading about Jeremiah’s visit to the potter’s shed, and when I was reading about Jeremiah in jail. Last week I was reading about Jeremiah standing at the gates of the Temple in Jerusalem announcing his prophetic words to people arriving for worship. I knew I was supposed to preach this.

When I read a part of the Bible and have a sense that I should preach this or that text, I’ve learned to listen to that impulse. As you know I mostly preach from the Lectionary which I have seen God use in amazing ways, but when some other part of the Bible jumps off the page, I listen to what God is trying to say to me or us.

That’s how Jeremiah 7 caught my attention. Remember that Jeremiah is a visual learner and prophet. The physical details and his location help him make his point In this section he’s standing at the gate of the Temple and people are arriving for worship. He told them not to forget that you must act with justice toward others. He actually sounds more like a preacher than a greeter.

Don’t you expect a greeting to stand at the Temple gates and say, “Welcome to worship. We’re glad you’re here. Do you need a bulletin? How was you’re your trip in for the holy days?” Jeremiah stood at the gate and greeted people with: “Change your ways and let God dwell with you. Your future in the land depends on how you act justly one to another.”

Worshipers walk into the Temple courts, and Jeremiah tells them not to forget their responsibility to a neighbor, or an orphan, or a widow, or a stranger in the land. Here’s how these ancient words translate for me: if we forget or ignore the neediest people in society when we come to worship, we’re treating the church or the Temple to isolate ourselves from the world.

The reverse is actually a better expression of faith. Worship should be preparing us to engage the world on behalf of the oppressed because we have heard the promises of a God who stands with the oppressed. We aren’t in here to forget about the world out there or to sing hymns about how God has blessed us, while the world is in such need. Someone said that Jeremiah at the temple court reminded the people that social justice—how we treat each others—is connected to our liturgy—how we come together for worship.

Many early Presbyterian churches were built to show this connection. They were built with clear glass windows. As worshipers sat in their pews they could look outside and see the world to which they would soon return. Coming to church is not an escape from the world, but a place to learn God’s vision for the world.

The parable of the Good Samaritan illustrates what happens when liturgy and justice are disconnected. In that parable, the priest and the Levite—the holy religious leader—cross over to the other side of the road to avoided the man in great need. They represent what Jeremiah is cautioning against: religious expression without social justice, going to the Temple while ignoring the needs of people in the world.

Religious expression without social justice gets a lot of attention from the prophets in the Old Testament. Micah speaks to this. He says offerings of calves or oil are not what God wants, but instead God has made clear what is good: doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.

Amos also wrote about this disconnect. He wrote, “I despise your festivals and take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Let just roll down like water and righteousness like and ever-flowing stream.” Jeremiah stands in this tradition of prophets who speak of empty religious expression.

Once while Jesus was teaching on the Sabbath in Capernaum, a man came into the Synagogue who was in great need. Jesus stopped everything and helped him right in the middle of the service. While another congregation may have seen that as a disruption in the flow of the service, that congregation was amazed at what happened. On that Sabbath day, Jesus made religious expression and social justice became one and the same. I can remember many occasions when we have acted justly for the world while gathered in here for worship. Last month we remembered the poor with a fifth Sunday offering and gave for those who have no access to clean water. We brought together gifts and dedicated them to that purpose. Last Sunday we stood in a circle, shared communion, and prayed for peace in a world too full of war.

Jesus shows us that social justice can happen in a place of liturgy, and our own service bears that out. What about the reverse? Can liturgy-a gathering of people in worship—happen in a place of social justice? What images come to mind for you with this challenge? I think about Paul and Silas in prison in Philippi. They had helped a girl who was being oppressed and thrown in jail for it. Their feet were in stocks and they begin singing hymns and praying. This was religious expression in the midst of seeking justice for another. Here’s another example…

A couple of weeks ago several members of the church participated in the Rotary Club repair affair. We were practicing social justice that weekend by cleaning the back yard for a lady in Versailles. It turned she had known one of our church members who was working that day. They hadn’t seen each other in years. Later, I asked her if she had a church home and she said she did. Her pastor is my neighbor. It was a sweet moment for me to see these divine connections between us and the homeowner, and give thanks for them. That day, our social justice reminded me of the power of God to surprise us. The poison ivy was worth it for that.

What connections do you see between our work and our worship? Where are the gaps? What can we do better? What if we could invest more personal energy, more of our own sweat, our own time in the mission of the church? Wouldn’t that along with our gifts reinforce the connection? Is that what Jeremiah meant when he greeted people with that day as they entered the temple?

The opening verses of 2 Timothy charge the reader to hold onto sound teaching, and guard the treasure entrusted to you. Do you think the connection between work and worship, social justice and liturgy, what we say and what we do is part of this sound teaching? Part of this treasure? Me too, and that gives me hope. And thanks be to God. Amen.