Showing posts with label Listening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Listening. Show all posts

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Why Bother?

Listen here:
Transfiguration – 26 February 2017
Text: Matthew 17:1-9
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Today is the final Sunday after the Epiphany of Our Lord. Remember that Epiphany is the season in which Jesus is revealed again and again as the Son of God. Today is called the Transfiguration of Our Lord because of our gospel lesson, in which Jesus is transfigured up on a mountaintop with some of his disciples.

The transfiguration story falls in the middle of Jesus’ earthly ministry. By this point in Matthew, Jesus has asked his disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter has offered his faithful answer: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God!” In the very next scene, Jesus shares with his disciples that he will suffer, die, and be raised to life, and Peter rebukes Jesus for saying such a thing. Jesus’ response to Peter shows us just what his focus is: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
 
So, six days later, Peter has his chance to gain divine vision. He goes up on the mountain with Jesus and James and John, and Jesus is transfigured in their sight, his face shining like the sun, and his clothes a dazzling white. And as if that glorious vision isn’t enough, Moses and Elijah then appear with Jesus, representing the Law and the Prophets.

Peter wants to stay there, on that mountaintop. He suggests a building plan: “I will make three dwellings here,” he says, “One for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah…” but while he’s still talking, God interrupts him from heaven: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”

In other words, Peter, be quiet and listen to the voice of Jesus. Pay attention to Jesus. Pay attention, so that you can follow him. Listen, so that you can truly be his disciple.

This work of listening – of paying extra attention – this is part of the intention behind the season of Lent, which we will begin this week on Ash Wednesday. For Christians, Lent has historically been a time of sacrifice – whether the sacrifice is something big or small. Some Christians observe a time of fasting during Lent, giving up some or most meals, or certain foods, like red meat. Some Christians give up chocolate or alcohol or saying bad words.

When I was younger – even in my teenage years – I would give up something for Lent, and then I would make a big deal about my sacrifice. In other words, I would make my sacrifice all about me, and my misery at not being able to eat chocolate for six weeks. But the idea is that our sacrifice will call us to remember Christ’s sacrifice for us. Our Lenten sacrifices are – at their root – a call to pay extra attention to God.

A Lenten practice which has become more popular in recent years is to take something on for Lent: a daily habit of Bible reading, for example. Some people I know read a psalm each day in Lent, or a chapter of another book of the Bible, methodically working their way through as part of a Lenten discipline. Other people commit to more prayer during Lent, maybe even using a book of prayers to guide them. Some read daily devotional books or commit to a set amount of quiet time each day.

The beauty of Lenten disciplines – when they are taken on properly – is that they lead us into a deeper relationship with God. They help us to take time and effort that we maybe don’t take at other times of year – time and effort that we use to listen more deeply for God’s voice, to pay attention to Jesus so that we can better follow him as his disciples.

Why bother?

Well, there are several reasons to observe a holy Lent: personal spiritual growth or a deeper realization of God’s love, for instance. But another reason that occurs to me might not be as obvious: observing a holy Lent can help us love God more, but it can also help us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Think about it: when we spend time with God, and listening for God’s voice in the midst of all the other noisy voices out there, we begin to see what God’s heart is for other people. I think this is part of why Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Our prayers don’t necessary change the person for whom we are praying, but our prayers just might change our own hearts. And thus it is that God can direct our hearts away from hatred, away from thoughts of retaliation, away from warfare, away from the desire to cause harm.

Just think if everyone in the world prayed for their enemies.

Now, I’m not so silly as to think that will actually happen. But I have to at least ask the question – can it happen with me? Can I pray for my enemies? Can I pray for them, so that I may begin to pay attention to God’s love for them? Can I pay attention to God’s love for them so that I can love others as I love myself?

Whatever it is that you give up for Lent, or take on for Lent – or both – I hope you will use these disciplines as an opportunity to pay extra attention to God. Keep hold of the words of God, spoken over Jesus, coming out of the heavenly cloud: “This is my beloved Son…listen to him!” Let God interrupt you, if need be!

For Jesus’ sake, and for the sake of the life of the world.

Amen.


+ SDG +


Sunday, April 17, 2016

Listening for the Voice of Our Shepherd

Charlie and Abby
The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Easter 4, Year C – April 17, 2016
Text: John 10:22-30
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Today’s encounter at the end of John 10, between the people and Jesus, takes place right after Jesus has told them that he is the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. The Good Shepherd calls his sheep by name. The Good Shepherd protects his sheep, and leads them, giving them safety so that they may find pasture. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep. 

After Jesus proclaims these things about himself, some who are listening to him start to argue. Some think that Jesus has lost it – that he’s out of his mind. Others point to the healing work of Jesus as proof that he hasn’t lost his mind at all – quite the opposite, they say – his healing works instead show us that we should be listening to him.

So in this time of contention, they ask Jesus to explain things plainly to them. “Are you the Messiah? Tell us,” they say. Jesus’ response seems brusque to us: “I have told you,” he says, “but you don’t believe me.” You can almost hear the frustration in his response.

And you might see why Jesus is a little frustrated with their question. In addition to all the signs (miracles) that Jesus has done up to now, in identifying himself as the Good Shepherd, he’s identifying himself as the Messiah – the Anointed One – for whom the people of God have been waiting. The image of the Messiah as a shepherd is one that would’ve been quite familiar to these Jews. So, in this part of their conversation, Jesus now goes back to the Good Shepherd image. He says, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. …No one will snatch them out of my hand.” 

Throughout this whole chapter, for Jesus, the emphasis is on the relationship that the sheep have with their shepherd. The sheep know their shepherd’s voice, and the shepherd knows them each by name. The sheep trust their shepherd to keep them safe and fed, and the shepherd knows what they need. There is a relationship between the sheep and the shepherd.

I’ve never owned a sheep. We do have two dogs, though, and whenever I read these words of Jesus in John, I always think about relationships between dogs and their owners. Our old dog, Max, had been with me since he was seven weeks old. He knew my voice, and I knew what his different noises meant, too. He wasn’t the best-trained dog in the world, but he knew a few commands: for example, if I told him I needed to “dry off puppy paws,” he would sit and hold up one paw. Every command had a purpose, whether to keep him safe or to make something easier.

Now that we have our two current dogs, who’ve come to us as adults and only about six months ago, I’m remembering all the years of relationship-building that I did with Max in order for him to know my voice and obey me. Now, we’re working with Abby and Charlie on some of the most basic commands, and sometimes it feels like this work never ends. We do this work not only for their own safety, but, as we learned recently, the safety of the wildlife in our yard. These two dogs know our voices, I think, but the relationship is still building, and so they don’t always follow when we need them to. 

My mom, when preaching on today’s text from John about 20 years ago, asked the question, “What image of Christ do we present to the world?” Today’s gospel lesson invites us to present an image of Christ as the Good Shepherd – loving and caring for his sheep even to the point of laying down his life. The Good Shepherd lives in relationship with his sheep – they know him and he knows them.

I also wonder, though, what image of Christ’s followers people have. When people look at the followers of Christ, do they see love or hatred? Do they see care or neglect? Can people even tell that we are listening for our Good Shepherd’s voice? 

Which then leads me to ask: Are Christ’s followers even listening for our Good Shepherd’s voice? 

It can be such a challenge to hear the voice of the Shepherd over the clamor of the world -  to hear it over all the voices shouting fear at us, or shouting hatred at us. How can we possibly hear the voice of our Shepherd if all we listen to are the voices telling us that if we aren’t afraid, or if we aren’t driven by hatred, we must be doing something wrong? 

The world looks to Christ’s followers to see an image of Christ himself. The world listens to what Christ’s followers are saying, in order to hear the voice of the Shepherd. I wonder if our relationships with Christ the Shepherd are such that our actions and our words show Christ to be caring – not only for the sheep in the fold, but caring for all? 

In our baptisms, we are marked with the cross of Christ forever – no one can snatch us from the loving hands of Jesus, our Shepherd. God’s love for us does not depend upon us or how we feel. God’s love for us depends upon God and God’s faithfulness to us. However, God’s love for other people doesn’t depend on our love for them. Jesus the Good Shepherd loves all those sheep out there, in spite of how we all treat each other. 

But…

To step away from sheep and shepherds for a minute…Jesus has given to us these two great commands: to love God, and to love our neighbor. We, who are so loved by God, are called to love our neighbors, too. Our relationships with God are marked with the cross of Christ – but our relationships with everyone should also be marked with that same cross.

My fellow sheep, let us listen for the voice of our loving Shepherd, let us hear it above every other voice that begs for attention. And then, let us be the ones who show and tell the love of Jesus, our Good Shepherd. 

Amen.

+ SDG +


Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Listening to the Shepherd





Easter 4 – May 11, 2014 - Year A
Texts: John 10:1-11 and Psalm 23
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Grace and peace be with you, from God our Father, and from his beloved Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Every so often when I am reading Scripture – I might be reading a story or a passage that I’ve read a gazillion times before – I will encounter that familiar story or passage in a completely different way than any of the other times I’ve read it. Something different about that story or passage will jump off the page at me.

That’s what happened to me this week as I read some commentary about John 10 written by preaching professor Karoline Lewis. It was this commentary that reminded me of the context for today’s gospel lesson. That this metaphor that Jesus uses about gates and sheep and shepherds – this metaphor really should be examined in context with the story that immediately precedes it.

So, what story immediately precedes this passage? Well, many of you heard it and you heard me preach on it – remember this mud? And the “mell of a hess”?

The story immediately before today’s gospel lesson is the healing of the man born blind: Jesus taking some dirt and mixing it with his spittle to make mud, smearing it on the blind man’s eyes, and telling him to go wash. When the blind man washes, he can see. And this simple healing action causes all kinds of turmoil because Jesus has made a significant change in this man’s life. But the turmoil also comes about because Jesus makes this healing all about God’s power being revealed – making that the focus – rather than this man’s sinfulness.

In the Gospel of John, there is a pattern to these healing stories: healing à dialogue (trying to understand) à discourse (trying to explain). So, way back on the Fourth Sunday in Lent, when we heard John 9 and the story of the man born blind, we only heard the first two parts of this pattern – the healing itself, and then the dialogue which follows. What we receive today is the discourse provided by Jesus to explain the miracle itself.

So, to today’s lesson: Jesus begins talking about shepherding – which seems kind of random to us but he’s doing what he often did when teaching: he takes something familiar to explain what God is up to. Sheep, as it turns out, know their shepherd’s voice. They know his voice – Jesus emphasizes this point. The sheep know the shepherd’s voice.

Why emphasize that one point here?

Think about the person he has just healed: a blind man. The blind rely so heavily on the sounds around them, and so this man knows Jesus’ voice certainly, by now – he knows to listen to Jesus and to follow Jesus. Like a sheep who follows the shepherd and not the stranger – the man who was born blind – who is healed by Jesus of his blindness – he listens.

“I am the gate,” Jesus says. “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

Jesus compares himself to a gate here not because he wants to be exclusionary and keep a bunch of folks out (which is how this verse is sometimes used). Rather, here, he’s talking about the security (or salvation) we find only in him. He’s talking about a blind man being saved from a life of darkness and given life that is filled with light. More than that, he’s talking about the abundant life we all have in him – the good shepherd – the one who lays down his life – literally! – to save his sheep.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that “abundant life” looks a bit different to each of us. To the blind man, it means sight. To me, it means having plenty of people I love in my life. To you, it means something else. To others, it means lots of cars and houses and money in the bank. But the “abundant life” that Jesus gives goes beyond sight, beyond the love we have for one another, and certainly beyond material abundance.

The abundant life that Jesus offers is the abundance of God’s love for each of us – huge love – love shown in Jesus laying down his life for us and being raised to new life for us – love shown to us when we are joined to Christ’s dying and rising in our baptisms. So much abundant love.

It is this abundant love that goes with us through our darkest valleys – those that are filled with the shadows of death. It is this abundant love that comforts us when we are afraid. It is this abundant love that fills our cups to overflowing when we feel we are lacking everything. It is this abundant love that puts us into the household of God forever.

Beginning next month, I’m going to be challenging myself and I’m going to invite you to join me in this challenge of reading the Bible in 90 days. Those of us who choose to do so will follow a reading plan and knock away little chunks of Scripture each day over the summer. We’ll have ways to support one another and keep each other accountable and discuss what it is that we’re reading. (I’m knocking away chunks of the Gospels this month in order to get warmed up!)

Why do I mention this here? Because I firmly believe that if we are going to hear the voice of our shepherd – if we are going to hear about God’s abundant love for each of us and for all of us, it starts in Scripture. And the discipline of reading Scripture on a regular basis can help us know our Shepherd’s voice, so that we may follow him faithfully.

Let us pray: “Blessed Lord God, you have caused the holy scriptures to be written for the nourishment of your people. Grant that we may hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that, comforted by your promises, we may embrace and forever hold fast to the hope of eternal life, which you have given us in Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.”


+ SDG +

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Listen to Him



The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Transfiguration, Year A – March 2, 2014
Text: Matthew 17:1-9
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Grace and peace be with you, from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Today is the final Sunday after the Epiphany of Our Lord – Epiphany being the season in which we see Jesus revealed again and again as the Son of God. Today is what we call the Transfiguration of Our Lord – so called because of our Gospel story today in which Jesus is transfigured – changed – up on the mountaintop with some of his disciples.

The Transfiguration falls in the midst of Jesus’ ministry. With his disciples, he keeps talking about what will happen to him – that he will suffer and die and be raised. A few days before the Transfiguration is when Jesus shuts Peter down – “Get behind me, Satan!” And so, by this point, the disciples are in the throes of their relationship with Jesus, and they’re starting to hear more and more that following this Teacher, Jesus, is going to have some challenges for them, for Jesus keeps talking about taking up crosses and following him.

And then it comes – for Peter, James, and John – they are led to the high mountain to see Jesus in a whole new light – a transfigured light – a light that shows them the very glory of God, there, on a mountaintop. And as if that glorious vision isn’t enough, then appear Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets – and they are there, alongside Jesus, setting Jesus into very special company.

Peter wants to capture the glory. He wants to capture it and dwell in it, and he offers to build some shelter up there on the mountaintop for them. But God doesn’t even let Peter finish talking before interrupting him: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” And the disciples – overwhelmed by it all – the glory of Jesus, the appearance of Moses and Elijah, and now this voice from on high – they cower in fear.
And then, it is all over – and there is Jesus, reaching out to them, reassuring them of his presence and telling them not to be afraid.

For Peter, James and John, this vision of God’s glory is not just for that mountaintop experience. This vision of God’s glory is also meant to sustain them for the work that is yet to be done after they leave the mountain, as well as for the difficult time that is ahead.

For they do leave the mountain, and they pick up their travels again, following Jesus throughout Galilee and Judea, and eventually to Jerusalem – eventually to his final week, his last supper, his betrayal, his trial, his crucifixion, his resurrection. Maybe the mountaintop vision of God’s glory fades somewhere along the way for them. But what doesn’t fade is the fact that they are captured by God – they are enveloped by God in all of this.

Thank God that the love of God doesn’t depend on us being able to see it or touch it or grasp it in some way. The love of God just is.

There are “mountaintop” moments in which we can see and feel God without any kind of doubt. These are the times when we are reassured through revelations of God’s beauty, God’s power, God’s glory.

There are many more moments in which we must simply rely upon the promise of God to be with us always, “to the end of the age.”[1] These are the times when we get out of bed in the morning to drink the same old coffee, drive the same old drive, see the same old people, and say the same old things. Maybe the love of God doesn’t reveal itself to you when you’re doing laundry or mowing the lawn or filing paperwork. That’s OK – because the love of God is still there.


It can be so tempting to look for Jesus always in the bright and shiny mountaintop moments. And yet, in this scene, God doesn’t say, “Behold my Son, focus on his glory and that alone. Remember him only as bright and shiny Jesus.” God says, instead…”Listen to him.”

Listen to him.

Listening to Jesus means paying attention at the times when it may not be readily apparent that Jesus is even there or that God is even active. Remember last week, when I said that any old yahoo can love their friends – but Jesus calls us to do the hard thing of loving our enemies? Well, any old yahoo can notice Jesus when he’s standing there, in gloriously bright and shiny robes. But we are called to follow the Lord down from the mountain, follow him in the regular days and weeks of our lives.

During this week, we begin Lent for another year: forty days – plus Sundays – which the Church sets aside as a special time for focusing on self-examination and repentance.  At the end of today’s service, we will hide away our glorious “Alleluias,” not pulling them out again until Easter.

For Lent, some people will give up chocolate or caffeine – others will take on some kind of spiritual discipline. We’ll have opportunities for fellowship and worship here, certainly, to help you observe holy times for Lent.

Whatever it is that you do for Lent, I encourage you to keep hold of the words of God coming out of the cloud to the disciples during the Transfiguration: “This is my beloved Son…listen to him!” Take the time, and pay attention to the moments when the glory of God is hidden. Jesus is still there – in those moments – in those days and weeks – Jesus is still there. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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[1] Matthew 28:20