Friday, May 24, 2019

Matthew 25:24-30 "Risk"

         Theologian and Christian author Frederick Buechner defined a parable as “a little story with a big point.” He went on to say that “if you have to have it explained, don’t bother.”  That somewhat cynical explanation of those quick graphic stories Jesus told throughout his ministry may pertain to some of the parables, but the one we just read, “The Parable of the Talents”, well, I am not so sure it applies to that one.  
After all, preachers can raise up so many different perspectives for their congregations to reflect upon.  I mean, we could focus on what this vignette tells us about the kingdom of God. After all, most Biblical scholars agree that Jesus’ parables all elucidate some aspect of God’s realm, God’s dream for the world – be it the overwhelming need for compassion, the role of grace, the value of forgiveness and reconciliation, or how we treat the outcasts, the marginalized, and those whom society has chewed up and spat out.   
We could talk about scarcity and abundance – and whether we have chosen to approach life with our cup half-full or half-empty.  Or we could zero in on the significance of equality in this story – or the lack thereof.  After all, each of the three servants was given – seemingly randomly - differing amounts of money to guard and watch over.  
Then again, we could make pronouncements on the pros and cons of investing – and go headlong down the rabbit hole of speculating about the wisdom of having anything to do with the stock market these days, what with our unsettled and somewhat volatile economy.  Who will blink first – President Trump or Xi (Shee) Jin Ping?  Was Uber’s much anticipated IPO a success, a failure, or something in between?
Or - we could disregard the financial markets completely and discuss the development of our own personal gifts and talents for the glory of God – naively presuming that the English meaning of the word “talent” is identical to that in the Aramaic language that Jesus spoke – which is untrue, by the way, but can so easily send us headlong down another rabbit hole, the one leading us to speculate just how much a monetary talent would be worth in today’s economy. 
Would it be the equivalent of a year’s salary for a day laborer in first century Palestine? And how much exactly would that be? Could a flat $5000. do it?  Were these talents that Jesus referred to in his story gold or silver? Is a talent just a shekel?  And so on and so on.  But, that’s right, we were going to disregard stocks, bonds, mutual funds, and compound interest.
OK then:  We could debate the final outcome for the servant who buried the money allotted to him and argue whether or not the master’s decision to toss him into eternal darkness was really all that fair – given the circumstances.  After all, the misguided servant did not squander it on the newest iphone or binge on gourmet dinners and expensive wine or hightail it to the mall for an all-night Black Friday shopping spree.  He just put it in an envelope and kept it safe under his mattress. What is not to like about that?
We cannot be completely sure what single point Jesus wanted to make when he told this story to the assembled crowd hanging on his every word.  All we really know is that an unnamed master was going on a long journey and decided to leave his property and belongings with three trustworthy servants.  
One servant got a lot of money – five talents.  One got a fair amount of money – two talents. One got just enough to get by – one talent.  The five talent and two talent fellows thumbed their noses at the unpredictable rises and dips on the New York Stock Exchange and figured that you have to spend money to make money – and they both doubled their assets by the time the master returned.  He was tickled pink at their success.  
The one talent guy took a different approach. He was more conservative and safely slept on his talent every night that the master was gone – and checked each morning to see that it was still there – because he was afraid that he might someday find it missing.   
I suspect that this one talent guy presumed the master would be pleased that he had neither unwisely spent a dime nor lost a penny.  How surprised he must have been then when he received not kudos but a real haranguing! The master called him all sorts of nasty names – bad, lazy, short-sighted, fearful.  
Not only that, but his fate was sealed.  He was kicked out into the darkness, the Gospel writer tells us, there to pass presumably all of eternity helplessly crying and gnashing or grinding his teeth!  Yikes – and we thought that controlled, conventional, middle-of-the-road, don’t rock the boat, thoughtful management of our resources was a plus!  After all, as Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann wrote, “What’s so wrong with being cautious? Discretion and deliberateness are virtues, not vices.” 
And maybe they are a plus in the stock market.  You know what they say:  “The rule is to buy low, sell high,” “Let it ride …”, You need to be in it for the long haul…”,
“It’s not timing the market that matters, but time in the market.” At least, that last one was what it was written on the white board in our financial planner’s office for a long time.
However, Brueggemann goes on to say,  “But with (the) third servant virtues become vices. Prudence and wariness easily become self-protectiveness and restraint. Inhibition turns to fear, and the servant ends up refusing the risk of trading in the marketplace.”  
Breuggemann is stating pretty emphatically that the same controlled, conventional, middle-of-the-road, don’t rock the boat, thoughtful management of our resourcesis far from a truism when it comes to being a Christian – or being the Christian church.  Being a follower of Jesus – or being part of the Body of Christ - calls fora wildly speculative attitude and perspective.   
Being the church in the 21stcentury calls for living dangerously. Just as God went out on a limb and, in the beginning, created something out of nothing, so we too as a church are challenged to co-create with God in the same way – co-create new ministries that reflect changing needs, follow the Spirit on the sacred course Jesus sets out for us - even if we do not know exactly where it is leading us.  
In a word, we are challenged to risk – ourselves, our time, our possessions, the way we have always done things here in church.  We are called to risk – in our worship, in our music, in our programs, in our mission and outreach, even in how we use and share our building – or if we continue to have a building at all.  
I heard a story about a young man who was eager to become a paratrooper. He went to the local recruiting office and asked the enlisting officer what he could expect in the Airborne Division’s jump school. The recruiter, a former paratrooper himself, said the initial part of the training would take three weeks.
“The first week, we separate the men from the boys,” the recruiter soberly told the young man. The young man nodded eagerly.
The recruiter continued on the same serious note. “The second week, we separate the men from the fools.”  He then paused dramatically.
With great excitement the young man asked, “Sir, what happens in the third week?’
“The third week,” the recruiter explained with a smile, “”we teach the fools how to jump out of an airplane.”
And so it is for us as Christians, for us as the church.  The Apostle Paul even used those same words:  “We are fools for Christ’s sake.” In short, we are called to risk  - to be what others will call foolish – so that we can co-create a transformed world with God.
Worship consultant Marcia McFee put it this way, “God is involved in risk with us. With little evidence to the contrary, God keeps inviting humanity to strive for good, to help co-create a better world... even as we seem bent on doing the opposite,” on not rocking the boat, on being conventional, on continuing the way we have always done things.
You know, there are two ways we can live out our days in this church. We can waste them.  Heavens know there are a ton of things we can waste them on – outdated programs, burning out the same volunteers, cutting expenses over and over again.  You know the drill…. 
However, that is what T.S. Eliot in his play “Murder in the Cathedral”  labelled “partly living.”  "Throughout the years (the chorus sang) we have gone on living, living and partly living." It is a corollary of the definition of insanity: Doing the same thing over and over with exactly the same result. 
 The alternative to wasting our days here in the church is risking them – risking them on our passions and on the things we really believe in, risking them on co-creating a better world with God, risking them on all that Jesus stood for – compassion, reconciliation, radical inclusion, a soft spot for the poor and the down-and-out.
As Biblical scholar John Buchanan noted when he interpreted this Parable of the Talents, “The point here is not really about doubling your money and accumulating wealth. It is about living….It is about taking risks. . . The greatest risk of all, it turns out, (he writes) is not to risk anything, not to care deeply and profoundly enough about anything to invest deeply, to give your heart away and in the process risk everything. The greatest risk of all, it turns out, is to play it safe, to live cautiously and prudently.”
Therein lies the tragedy of this parable for the one talent guy.  Here he was thinking that not risking, not taking chances, not rocking the boat was the way life should be!
Do you remember during Advent when we read about the angel who came to Mary and said to her, “Don’t be afraid.”  When it comes to why we choose – or choose not - to risk - that phrase is key.  In fact, it is really the foundational call in all of Scripture – from beginning to end.  “Fear not,” we hear over and over again.  Fear not; have faith instead!  
It is what God expected of Noah when the Holy One told him to build an ark and shelter the earth’s animals from the rain.  It is what God expected of Abraham when God told him both to leave home and, by the way, expect a that long-hoped for child would be born - even when he and Sarah were ready to trundle off to the retirement home. 
It is what God expected of Paul when he was blinded on the Road to Damascus, and his life was never the same.  And it is what God continues to expect of us – to live faithfully rather than fearfully, to risk rather than hide away.
That is the difference between the five and two talents guys and the one talent fellow in the parable.  The first two were willing to give faith a try.  The other one gave in to fear.
All of us – even today in a world of uncertainty where we are pressured from all sides to withdraw, to insulate ourselves, to build walls and protect our borders, to carry guns in case someone opens fire at Walmart, to take all that we can because someday there may not be enough – all of us – even today – here in the church – in spite of all the scary unpredictability that enshrouds us – we are called to be not people of fear but people of faith. God expects us to risk for the sake of God’s dream.
Marcia Mcfee put it this way, “Jump out and give things a try, break through the fear with steps toward a goal of creating a change. Think of the talents as grace... if we clutch too tightly to God’s abundant grace, believing it is scarce, we will constantly see lack all around instead of possibility and we will live with that fear and the fear will stymy us.” 
As we move forward as a church, knowing that change is inevitable if we are to survive, knowing that risk is a given, as we move forward, following where the Spirit leads, carving out a ministry that reflects the world’s needs and mirrors all that Jesus stood for, let’s hold tightly in our hearts these words written by a blogger I read this week:
Care more than others think is wise
Expect more than others think is possible.
Dream more than others think is practical.
Risk more than others think is safe.
         If we do those things – I trust that we will both survive and eventually thrive – as a

church community here in Raymond.

Luke 4:1-13 "Hover"

         It all began shortly after Jesus wended his way down to the Jordan River and was baptized.  What with the Holy Spirit descending like a dove and fluttering for a moment or two over his head and the holy booming voice from heaven declaring him to be the Son with whom Yahweh/God was well-pleased, surely Jesus felt equipped to go forth and do ministry.  
         However - “Soon, but not yet,” God informed him.  And instead the Holy Spirit shooed Jesus off into the wilderness.  There he remained for 40 days and 40 nights – like Noah in his ark – all that time, we are told, with no food to eat and nothing to drink, no books to read, no cell phone to facetime with, no ipad for wiling away the time watching youtube videos of cute kittens and guilty dogs and for checking his newsfeed on facebook.  Alas, no internet at all to aimlessly surf.  A six-week time out.
         It was just Jesus out there - alone with his hopes and dreams and fears - and prayers.  With all the cultural trappings and distractions removed, what was left foremost in his mind were his thoughts about what most likely would tempt him to compromise his ministry.  Three things really.  
First, there was the physical aspect of walking from town to town and village to village, not knowing if he would have a bed at night or where his next meal would come from.  He heard his stomach growling, even now in the wilderness.  Playingon that hunger, the first ugly thought emerged: “So you think you are God’s son, someone special. Then command this stone to turn into a loaf of bread.”
            Jesus thought for a while and then answered himself by quoting from the book of Deuteronomy in the Old Testament part of the Bible: “It takes more than bread to really live.”  No bread now, he intuitively sensed.  That day would come.  
And, sure enough, it did too because in the not-too-distant future, late one afternoon he would find himself gazing at a hungry crowd.  Many of them would be like him here in the wilderness, not knowing where their next meal was coming from.  
At the moment when Jesus would feel enormous compassion but be at a complete loss as to how to help, a nameless boy would step up to share his supper, and Jesus would bless the bread and the fish. That meager but generous offering would feed five thousand people.  “Yes,” Jesus realized, ““It takes more than bread to really live.  It takes compassion.  It takes generosity.”
         Next he imagined being led up a high mountain to see all the kingdoms of the earth on display. And he heard a cajoling voice say, “They could all be yours to control at your pleasure. Imagine that!  All yours if you will just worship the power, the money, the greed.  All yours if you will only embrace the cultural values of this world – the walls, the weapons, the tax loopholes, the rich get rich and the poor get poorer.”
         However, once again, Jesus did not listen long to that niggling but persuasive voice.  He  abstained, again backing his refusal with Hebrew scripture: “Worship the Lord your God and only the Lord your God. Serve God with absolute single-heartedness.”  And if you serve God, he told himself confidently, then you serve love   - and that is good.
And finally, Jesus encountered a third test.  He found himself imagining that he was on the very highest pinnacle of the Jerusalem Temple, and that ugly voice within him spoke, “If you are God’s Son, jump. It’s written, isn’t it, right there in the Psalms, that ‘he has placed you in the care of angels to protect you; they will catch you; you won’t so much as stub your toe on a stone’?”
“Yes,” said Jesus to himself, but “it is also written, ‘Don’t you dare tempt the Lord your God.’” From here on out, he concluded, I am in partnership with the Almighty.
And on that triumphant note, Jesus emerged from the wilderness, his soul-searching complete, and his values clear:  Compassion, reconciliation, radical inclusion, peace-making, non-violence, economic justice, and mercy, a soft spot always in his heart for the poor, the disabled, the powerless.  And on that sacred note, Jesus began his ministry.  
You know, we often read this passage on the first Sunday in the season of Lent.  We use it to contemplate what we might sacrifice over our forty days to feel more akin to Jesus in the wilderness.  In short, we focus almost exclusively on Jesus’ ability to overcome temptation – and hope that we can do the same and survive until Easter without chocolate or Grey’s Anatomy.
However, I think Jesus’ experience in the wilderness – be it desert, forest, or the wilderness of his own mind – was a time of deep and profound soul-searching.  It is in that context, I believe,  that we feel most akin to him.  At least, that is how I understand the passage.  
These verses are significant for us because we see Jesus pausing to figure out some really important stuff about his call to ministry.  The Spirit nudged him away from the 24/7 inevitable chaos of his life into a time of undistracted self-reflection to determine exactly what it was that he stood for, what he would stake his life against.  
In those 40 days, Jesus saw the big picture of God’s sweeping dream for the world and so figured out where he fit into that dream.  In short, Jesus hovered and, in doing so, figured out where he fit into God’s dream.  He intentionally took the time to see the big picture.  He stepped aback and removed himself from all the details and detritus of his life to see something bigger, to see the whole. 
Recently Joe and I went to the musical, “Camelot.”  I had forgotten that, when King Arthur was a young boy, Merlin had once transformed him into a hawk.  As Arthur soared high above the trees, he could see that there were no borders between tribal lands except those claimed by kings and chieftains.  Because he was able to see the big picture, Arthur could dream of his Round Table and one day bring knights from warring factions together in a peaceful initiative.  That is what “hovering” can do.
When I think of “hovering”, I also remember one of the first times I flew from Maine to the West Coast.  Because it was a clear day, I could see the landscape below me morph from populated towns to sparsely populated hills to flat lands to jagged mountain ranges to sprawling cities once again. I was acutely aware of the vast geographic diversity of our nation because I could literally see the big picture below me.
How unfortunate that, in this age of ancient gratification, “hovering” is rapidly becoming a lost art!  We seldom take the time to see the big picture of our lives. Too often,  we get caught up in – and often obsessed by - the intensity of immediate events (thank you cable news), so that even our best laid plans to stay centered leave us feeling fragmented and ungrounded.
It is not only Jesus who depended on hovering to define who he was meant to be.  We all require it.  Each one of us needs time and space to think, to ruminate, to pray for direction and clarity, to consider what is necessary.  It may feel like a luxury, but even Jesus exemplified its necessity. Our work in the world as Christians depends on hovering.  Understanding how our individual actions fit into God’s dream for the world is important stuff.
However, hovering need not be some elaborate visioning quest. As author Emma Mildon shared in an article I read this week, “I have traveled everywhere from Spain to Peru and Egypt to New Zealand meeting tea leaf readers, astrologists, shaman, healers, regressionists, physics, mystics, artists, yogis, and other soul searchers along the way. What did I learn? I learned that while I had emptied my bank account traveling the globe on a search for self-discovery, that actually, all the answers were deep within me — go figure!”
Hovering here in church – understanding where we fit into the big picture of 21stcentury Christianity – is critical to our survival as a faith community, and it is two pronged. First, it is the intentional practice as a congregation of looking within our church family to discover where our particular energies lie.  Second it is the intentional individual practice of defining what our unique passions are that will build up our church community as we strive to make God’s dream a reality.  
Hovering here in church is recognizing and affirming that what each one of you chooses to do with your time and your gifts will determine whether we thrive – or even survive – as a congregation. What you choose to do with your time and your gifts will affect God’s dream – either enhancing it or diminishing it. 
One day a traveler encountered three stonecutters working in a quarry. Each was busy cutting a block of rock. Interested to find out what they were working on, he asked the first stonecutter what he was doing. 
“I am cutting a stone!” 
Still no wiser, the traveler turned to the second stonecutter and asked him what he was doing. “I am cutting this block of stone to make sure that it’s square, and its dimensions are uniform, so that it will fit exactly in its place in a wall.” 
Still unclear, the traveler turned to the third stonecutter. He seemed to be the happiest of the three and when asked what he was doing replied: I am building a cathedral.”
Each one of us is – with our gifts and time and energy – is part of something bigger than ourselves. We are stonecutters with a clearly defined purpose.  Each one of us part of a whole, is part of God’s dream.  Each one of us is called to participate in building a cathedral.  Be like the third stonecutter and trust that you are part of that bigger story.  
You see, what you choose to do matters.  What this church chooses to do as we move forward into an unknown future matters. It is so easy for us to look for the quick fix:  more people in the pews, more pledging units, more volunteers to change a rocky financial future. 
Before jumping to those conclusions, however, let’s do some hovering.  Let’s look at the big picture.  Let’s look at God’s dream embodied in the person of Jesus.  Let’s consider the values with which Jesus began his ministry: Compassion, reconciliation, radical inclusion, peace-making, non-violence, economic justice, and mercy, a soft spot always in his heart for the poor, the disabled, the powerless.  
And as we hover, let’s consider where our creative energies and passions fit into those values, into that big picture, that dream.  Let’s ask and answer this question:  
If I didn’t feel like I needed to fix everything, what one thing can I focus on now in this church to help make God’s dream a reality? 
Jesus did his hovering for 40 days in the wilderness, and he clearly defined his values.  When he had done that, he faithfully and, on that sacred note, began his ministry.  May we do likewise.  May we too hover , define our values, and begin our ministry as a church anew.

Luke 4:13-21 "Dream"

 From Wikipedia:  The Big Bang theory is the prevailing cosmological model for the observable universe from the earliest known periods through its subsequent large-scale evolution. The model describes how the universe expanded from a very high-density and high-temperature state, and offers a comprehensive explanation for a broad range of phenomena, including the abundance of light elements, the cosmic microwave background (CMB), large scale structure and Hubble's law (i.e. the farther away galaxies are, the faster they are moving away from Earth).
Also from Wikipedia:  Earth formed around 4.54 billion years ago, approximately one-third the age of the universe, by accretion from the solar nebula. Volcanic outgassing probably created the primordial atmosphere and then the ocean, but the early atmosphere contained almost no oxygen.  The earliest undisputed evidence of life on Earth dates from at least 3.5 billion years ago. There is evidence that life began much earlier.
To put all of this scientific jargon in religious terms (as all religions attempt to do) and specifically in Judeo-Christian terms, the ancient writer of Genesis told a story to explain the phenomenon of creation because he did not possess the same scientific knowledge and jargon that we have today. The story he told is, of course, not literally true.  Instead, it is mythological, which is not to say that it is made up or fake news.  However, it is to say that it holds a truth deeper and more profound than language so long ago could ever convey.
And so, in short, we say that, at the moment of creation, God had a dream.  God had a vision.  And the Spirit of God hovered over the abyss, the void, the nothingness, the waters of the deep, and God said, “Let there be…”  
Let there be light.  Let there be life.  Let there be birds and animals and all sorts of flowers and vegetation. Let there be humanity, women and men, you and me, whose sole purpose it would be to care for creation and to continue the creative work of building God’s realm, working in partnership with God to fulfill the sacred vision.  In addition, let there be Someone, let there be a way, let there be “The Way” to guide you and me and to be a model for all of humanity who choose to follow that path. Let that Someone, that Way show us how to affirm our partnership with God and with each other in this creative project called “life!”
And so it was….And so Jesus returned to Galilee, and the power of the Holy Spirit was upon him - hovering – just as it had once at the very beginning of time hovered over the abyss, the void, and nothingness, the waters of the deep. And Jesus went to Nazareth, his home town, and on the Sabbath, he went to church – and preached his first sermon. The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has chosen me….’
On blogger I read described the scene this way: “The synagogue is stuffy and crowded . The air is electric, People are whispering to each other about their hometown boy who is making such a name for himself. And he is back in town! As a matter of fact, there he is, sitting near the front. Surely he will be asked to speak…. 
A sudden hush - the service is beginning. The usual prayers, a Psalm, and yes, they are asking Jesus to come forward. Someone was handing him a scroll. He’s unrolling it, looking for the passage he wants. Now he begins. 
…Yahwe/God has chosen me….to bring good news to the poor; Yahweh/God has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the lord’s favor.
Slowly, reverently, Jesus rolls up the scroll and hands it back to the attendant. Then, as is the custom, he sits down to teach. Everyone’s eyes are riveted on him. They all hold their breath, thinking, ”Well, he certainly picked a well-known passage. Let’s see how well he remembers what his teachers told him about it; let’s see how good he is at recounting the lessons he’s learned.” 
(Now Jesus might have preached his first sermon on the past, highlighting the wisdom of the acclaimed Isaiah and the prophet’s vision of a world characterized by justice and peace. Then again, Jesus might have elaborated on the world to come – milk and honey, a glorious promise.  “How we long for that,” he might have said. “How we pray all the time for that, but it seems so terribly slow in coming.”)
But what Jesus says next is not what (the congregation) expects at all. He doesn’t repeat the teachings of other rabbis (who might have focused on the past or the future). Instead he says, “Today, the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” 
It is the shortest sermon ever.  It is as if he is saying to them: “Isaiah was talking about me. This is my mission.  And, guess what folks, the time is now.  The time is today.”  
There is an intensity in Jesus’ words and in his presence.  The congregation is expecting something, though the men and women do not yet know what that something is.  Of course, with 20/20 hindsight, we can pretty confidently say that, put simply, the something is this:  This mission, my mission, is your mission too. Youare the tools, the supplies, God needs to make God’s dream a reality.  
And guess what?  I speak neither of the past nor of some future time.  I speak of now.  I speak of today. This passage of the ancient prophet Isaiah – the good news, the release, the recovery, the freedom, the proclamation has come true – beginning today.
At first, the congregation was quite impressed by Jesus’ sermon – maybe because it was so short and to the point or because congregations generally give the benefit of the doubt to wet-behind-the-ears young hometown preachers.  At any rate, Jesus got excellent reviews that first time around.  Not like the preacher who solicited sermon feedback from the9- and 10-year-olds in his congregation who attended worship one morning as part of their Sunday School lesson.  Afterwards, each child wrote a letter to the minister reflecting on the experience. Among the comments were these: 
Dear Reverend, I liked your sermon Sunday. Especially when it was finished. --Ralph
Dear Reverend, I like to go to church on Sunday because I don't have any choice. --Margaret
Dear Reverend, Thank you for your sermon Sunday. I will write more when my mother explains to me what you said. --Justin
Dear Reverend, I think more people would come to church if you would move it to Disneyland. --Loreen
As I said, Jesus, on the other hand, received heart-warming and positive comments:  Good sermon, Rabbi.  I could hear every word you said, and I was sitting in the very back of the synagogue. 
Hometown boy made good, it would seem.  However, if we were to continue to read the next few verses in this Gospel of Luke, we would learn that Jesus’ words, when the congregation really thought them, did not sit too well.  Good news?  Release? Recovery? Freedom? Proclamation?  Not here, not in this synagogue!
 The Gospel writer of Luke tells us that the people who heard that first sermon, a couple of days later, tried to put an end to this man who outed their greatest fear, that of actually having to do ministry. They ambushed Jesus, dragged him out of town, took him to the top of the hill on which the town was built, and tried to toss him off the cliffs. 
However, Jesus managed to weasel his way out of such a sudden and ignoble death – and, of course, ministered and healed and modeled compassion and justice and reconciliation, clearly and graphically outlining all that he stood for, the essence of God’s dream, until he stirred up the Pharisees and Roman authorities in Jerusalem some three years later and was tried and executed. 
However, all that he stood for – the compassion, the forgiveness, the justice, the non-violence, the good news to be brought to the poor; the release to be offered to the captives and to all who are imprisoned by their bodies or their spirits or their past, the recovery of sight to the blind and to all who cannot see the brokenness in the world and the fragility of human life, the freedom to be given to all who are oppressed by whatever or whomever they are oppressed by, the proclamation that the time is now…all that Jesus stood for would live – as he did. 
All that Jesus stood would trickle down through the ages, through the centuries to us sitting in our church this morning – and we too would listen to his words and we too would know that today – today - is the time of the lord’s favor.
Episcopal priest Rick Morley wrote a thought-provoking blog on this passage from the Gospel of Luke.  He ponders whether we today are all that different from the synagogue congregation that listened to Jesus’ first sermon.  He wonders:  “Don’t we all go to church expecting something? But, do any of us really take the time to articulate what that something is?
Some, I suppose, expect to hear a good sermon (he writes). Not too long, not too short. Some expect to sing a nice (i.e. familiar) hymn or song. Some expect to be welcomed, and to see people we know. We expect when it’s all over that we’ll have a cup of coffee.
But, how many of us go to church really expecting the Spirit of God to actually show up? Do we expect news so good that it might shatter the despair of the poor? Do we expect release, recovery, and the ending of oppression? And, do we really want all of that to begin with—and would we rather just receive a little comfort, a little encouragement, and nothing that will rock the boat?
Or, do we come ready (Morley asks) and open to see God’s expectations manifest themselves before our very eyes?”  Do we come, I wonder, seeking to know more clearly how we fit into God’s realm, God’s dream?  Do we come hoping to define our own dreams and passions that lie within that sacred dream? Do we come intent on being co-creators with God of a transformed world?
In our worship series over the next few weeks, we are going to connect with that creativity that lies within each one of us.  We will nurture this all too often forgotten but foundational aspect of being human.
We are going to explore what it means to be a co-creator with God.  We are going to affirm our birthright:  to imagine and create.  We will have opportunities here in worship to really think about questions like these:  What brings you alive?  What truly moves your soul in the very deepest way?  
So often our lives are dictated by being “driven’ rather than by being “drawn in”. We focus so much on what we “should” do and so little on what we feel excited about and compelled to do in our lives and in our world. In our worship series, we will hopefully uncover reborn, resurrected, renewed energy for ministry that reflects our passions, so that we are better able to do some creative problem solving to make our world a better place for all.  
And because we are a faith community, we also will reflect on the creativity inherent in us as a congregation.  What are our passions as a church community?  What is holding us back from letting our gifts and talents create a path forward for us? 
Is it a fear of change?  Is it anxiety about letting go of ministries and programs that have perhaps run their course and no longer meet the needs of our community and those to whom we seek to minister? Is it trusting that indeed, just as the Spirit of God hovered over the abyss, the void, the nothingness, the waters of the deep at the moment of creation, just as the Spirit of the Lord was upon Jesus, so the Holy Spirit is swirling about these four walls, waiting to guide and to lead us forward.   
American religious author Diana Butler Bass wrote: “Faith communities are often consumed with memories of the past and hopes for the future. Speaking of the past may take a form of maintaining buildings and structures, of teaching ancient texts, and passing on patterns of life and values from ancestors. Speaking of the future is often wrapped up in hopes for salvation and eternal life, desires for answered prayers, for the children to hold onto faith or "come back to church." 
Both past and future are important to vibrant communities; healthy and life-giving practices of honoring our ancestors and embracing a hopeful future derive from the witness of the whole biblical tradition.  But both "past" and "future" as the primary location of faith have their shadow sides (Bass writes). Overemphasizing the past results in nostalgia - the belief that the past is better than either the present or the future - a disposition that is steeped in grief and fear. Overemphasizing the future -the belief that all that matters is that which is to come - often results in thwarted hope, doubt, and anxiety…..
But (a belief in the power of) "today" is a deeply dangerous spiritual reality - because today insists that we lay aside both our memories and our dreams to embrace fully the moment of now. (Bass concludes that) the past romanticizes the work of our ancestors; the future scans the horizons of our descendants and depends upon them to fix everything. But "today" places us in the midst of the sacred drama, reminding usthat we are actors and agents in God's (dream) for the world. ‘Today’ is the most radical thing (Bass writes that) Jesus ever said.”
So – over the next few weeks, we are going to be radical.  We are going to be -  heaven forbid – revolutionary in our thinking and being and doing.  We are going to embrace our creativity.  
We are going to celebrate our partnership with God.  We are going to reflect on our passions, what makes us come alive, and just how those passions might further the ministries of our church.  
We are not going to throw away the past.  We are not going to disregard the future, but we are going to affirm today.  We are going to see what it would be like to dare to dream bigger – because, well, because with God, the sky is the limit, as we say.  We are going to dream God’s dream – along with God – and we are going to embrace the same Spirit that hovered over the abyss, the void, the nothingness, the waters of the deep, the same Spirit that hovered over Jesus in that synagogue long ago.