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"The Word of God is the Sword of the Spirit." - Ephesians 6:17

[Text: Isaiah 64:1-9; Mark 1:24-27, 31-37]

The point to today’s Scripture and to the season of Advent is that we are in tune with and looking forward to the One who is coming, whether in an apocalyptic event at the end of time or right now as he continues to come to us spiritually. One way or another Jesus is always in the focus. That’s the point. Amen.

[Text: Matthew 25:31-46 ~ NRSV]

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

What did Jesus have against goats? In today’s Gospel, it’s the sheep who are the heroes, not the goats. We know that in the ancient Near East people had domesticated both sheep and goats at a very early stage, perhaps as early as 5,000 B.C. Both animals, of course, could be eaten as food. Likewise the milk of both animals could be used, and the tanned skins of both had several practical uses. The greater importance of sheep undoubtedly had to do with wool. While some breeds of goats have hair that can be woven into fabric, it was wool from sheep, that by Jesus’ time, had become the universal basis for clothing for the vast majority of people. So, it was clothing and fabric needs that made the sheep more valuable in the eyes of people in the ancient Near East, and that situation is background to Jesus’ statements that we hear today.

Of course, in this Gospel Jesus isn’t really talking animal husbandry. Instead, on this last Sunday in the Christian church year, we hear him describing some ultimate last things–a final judgement in which he is enthroned as king and judge. In ancient societies the king was usually seen as the "supreme court," the court of last resort. In the scene portrayed in today’s Gospel, Jesus, at the end of time is sitting as king and judge, and he separates the "nations"–that is, everybody–into two groups. He does this–we’re told–just like "a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats."

And the people designated as "sheep" are surprised to hear him giving them a hearty welcome into his kingdom, because, he says, he had been hungry and they had fed him, he was thirsty and they got him something to drink, he had been a stranger and they welcomed him, and, furthermore, they had clothed him when he was in need, they had taken care of him when he was sick, and they had visited when he was incarcerated.

These folks are astounded to hear him say this. They didn’t remember having done these things for him. But then comes the clincher! Jesus says to them, "just as you did such things to one of the least of those who are members of my family, you did it to me." Jesus is talking about the "human family" here, and he is especially identifying himself with people in all kinds of needful situations–the hungry and thirsty, the outsider, those in need of clothing, those who are sick, and people in jail. Actually, responding to people with such needs had been a definite part of his own public ministry.

Of course, the goats in today’s Gospel reading, don’t make into Jesus’ kingdom, and that’s because they haven’t been engaged in continuing Jesus’ ministry to people in need. The goats are definitely nonplused to hear such a verdict. Their sin is not one of commission but of omission. The goats are condemned not for doing bad things but for doing nothing.

Let me say that this text is controversial among interpreters of the Bible. It’s controversial because it seems to stand in opposition to the teaching of St. Paul in his collected epistles elsewhere in the New Testament. Today’s gospel would seem to be saying that we somehow earn our way into the kingdom by our works of mercy. St. Paul, on the other hand, makes the point again and again that we are all sinners and that none of us can enter the kingdom on the basis of accumulated good works. We have to have faith in Jesus as Lord–that’s what is decisive, says Paul.

How do we resolve this seeming loggerheads in New Testament teaching? Barbara Brown Taylor, an Episcopal priest and author, provides a possible answer. She says: "A relationship with God is not a matter of (just) having faith but of doing faith." St. Paul and even Martin Luther would probably agree with her. Coming to faith in Jesus is by far the most important thing, but then by its very nature faith spurs us on to be part of his ongoing ministry in this world.

Locally, our congregation has been a supporter of the Licking County Jail Ministry. And some may be tempted to ask why we are wasting our time with people who have obviously broken the law–these jailbirds! Well, the answer to that question is in today’s Gospel–"I was in prison and you visited me." The Licking County Jail Ministry uses that verse in its logo and for good reason. And likewise all kinds of other community efforts here and elsewhere find their inspiration in today’s Gospel text–the Coalition of Care, the Community Dinner, the Salvation Army, the Community Food Pantry Network, and a long list of other programs.

Should we be involved in such things? How could we doubt that after hearing today’s Gospel reading?! Do we want to be sheep and avoid being goats? You betcha! But Barbara Brown Taylor would remind us that even with our best efforts all of us are goats part of the time. Following St. Paul, we look to Jesus in faith–we look to him as our way of God–we look to him that by grace he is our way into the kingdom. Today’s Gospel is a reminder that, having faith in the Christ, we need to act on it and care the "members of Jesus’ family" in need. Amen.

[Text: Matthew 25:14-30 ~ NRSV]

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The boss can be tough! Sometimes the boss is a very hard person to deal with–someone who can be unreasonable and at times overbearing, dictatorial, or even mean! Those of us who have had a variety of work experiences–especially in our youth–have probably at some point encountered this "tough boss behavior." We also see it in today’s Gospel reading. In this case, the boss is very wealthy, and he’s about to go off on a trip. So, he calls three of his employees into his office, and entrusts portions of his assets to each of them. In hearing this story we have to remember that our English word, "talent," was originally a Biblical term for a large amount of money. More specifically, we know that the standard daily wage in that era was one silver denarius. While there are differing opinions in terms of the exact value of a talent, but even the lowest value ascribed to it would make it worth several thousand denarius. So, one silver talent had the value of many years of work by an ordinary person–those being paid one denarius a day.

Well, as Jesus tells the story, the boss gives one employee five talents of his money to oversee during his absence. Another employee is given two talents to care for and the third man is given just one talent. So, the boss has handed over to these guys a huge amount of money! What the employees do with his money is very surprising! The boss has evidently sensed that these three had varying capabilities, because he has doled out five talents to one of them, two talents to another, and the last guy only got one, though that still represents considerable moolah.

Now the first two employees are savvy investors. They know just where to put the boss’s money so that it doubles in value. The third man, however, is not as astute. He knows that the boss is tough, and potentially even mean. The third guy is so nervous at having to oversee and protect the boss’s money, that he feels it best just to bury it for safekeeping. And that’s what he does.

Eventually, the boss comes home and everything has to be accounted for. He is extremely pleased with the first two employees, who have doubled his money. He lavishes them with praise and gives them job promotions. It makes you wonder how he would have reacted if they had lost his money, in their playing of the first century equivalent of the stock market?! Wouldn’t it have been much more conscientious of them to have their employer’s funds in a safe place, like the third man did?! But it’s the third guy who ends up being the target of the boss’s anger. This unfortunate but seemingly conscientious man gets summarily fired and kicked out into the street. And that doesn’t seem at all fair! The poor soul didn’t do anything illegal. His fault–if you can call it that–was in being overly cautious. However, Jesus is not telling this story to illustrate proper labor management styles or even good economic policy. What Jesus is attempting to tell us here is a message about the "stewardship of life."

The point to the story is that God has given to each of us certain "talents." Notice again that word, "talents." Here’s a case where a modern English word has been directly taken from the Bible and given a much broader meaning. In fact, our modern use of this word is directly based on this Bible story! Jesus is saying that God has given us certain abilities in life–abilities that can be used in the service of God, and also to help us get done our everyday stuff and to help other people in their lives. Though our gifts may differ, all of us have certain basic abilities that enable us to earn an income, to provide for those we love, and to assist in the ongoing work of God in this world. And some people have special gifts in the creative arts, music, healing arts, teaching, the various professions, or in industry that enrich and help the lives of all of us. Jesus is saying to us today: use your gift–invest it–and especially if that can assist the work of God in this world.

It just so happens that this text comes at the time when our parish, together with many other congregations, is engaged in its annual stewardship drive. This is when we ask the members of the church to ponder how much they can invest financially in the congregation’s ministry during the upcoming year. This is one part of the church’s life that I always find a little awkward–this "stewardship drive." However, as today’s Gospel clearly indicates, Jesus himself challenges us to think about these things, to take stock of our God-given talents, and then to invest them, as we are able. As Jesus make clear, we’re not to bury our talents in the backyard, but put them to use to serve God and the neighbor, as well as our own needs. Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Every pastor has his or her own personal "bundle" of wedding stories. These stories represent what might be charitably be termed, "memorable wedding mishaps," encountered by the clergy. In my case, some of these stories are funny and some of them are wretched.

Let me first tell you one from the wretched category. This happened at a wedding rehearsal at my first parish. What should have been a routine experience turned into absolute chaos, when the bride’s mother engaged in open warfare with her ex-husband, the bride’s father. "He can walk her down the aisle," she said, "but then he has to go and sit in the back of the church! He’s not sitting near me!" The bride had dissolved into tears at what should have been one of the happiest moments in her life.

It was divine inspiration or German stubbornness or maybe both that seemed to save the day. I turned to the bride’s mother and said in a very forceful tone: "The church says that I’m in charge of these things. You’ll sit in the front pew, and the bride’s father will sit behind you. And that’s the way it’s going to be!" Now I’ve used that same tone of voice with my wife, but it never works with her, and only rarely did it work with my children. But, thank God, it worked that day!

Here’s an example of the "non-wretched" type: several years ago we had a wedding at which the best man discovered in the midst of the ceremony that he had left the rings out in the car. He whispered to me that he wanted to run out to the car and get them, but I nixed that idea, since the situation was awkward enough as it was. So with whispered assurance to the bride and groom, they got married wearing the wedding rings of myself and the intern whom we had at that time.

Wedding mishaps do happen, and other pastors as well as myself could tell you plenty of stories. As it turns out, this is not just a modern phenomenon. In today’s Gospel reading we hear about a Biblical wedding mishap. In the first century, wedding customs were somewhat different from our contemporary practices. In the Biblical era a wedding was held at the home of the bride, and often the beginning of the wedding was held up by bartering between her family and the family of the groom over something called "the dowry." This was the amount of money and/or gifts given by the groom to the bride’s family for her hand in marriage. Supposedly, it was regarded as bad form for the bride’s family to quickly come to agreement on the amount, because that would imply that her family didn’t hold her in very high regard. No, they were supposed to quibble and dicker over the price–at least for a while. But that often held up the beginning of a wedding. All the guests, may already have gathered, but the wedding couldn’t begin until this matter was settled. It could extend into the middle of the night, as is the circumstance in today’s Gospel reading.

In any case, an important part of the whole observance was the eventually arrival of the bridegroom at the home of the bride. It was the job of the bridesmaids to wait for him outside the door, to greet him and to alert those within of his arrival. We are told in Jesus’ story that on one occasion there were ten bridesmaids--five of whom were wise, but the other five were foolish. The wise ones knew that these pre-marital negotiations were sometimes lengthy and they had brought extra oil for their lamps. The foolish ones didn’t think ahead. When the wait extended later and later into the night, the oil in their lamps burned out. And wouldn’t you know, while the foolish ones were away trying to find someone to sell them lamp oil, the bridegroom finally arrived, was formally greeted by the five wise bridesmaids, and then everybody went into the house and shut the door. The foolish bridesmaids were left out in the cold–literally.

Jesus’ unique brand of storytelling–known to us as parables– always has a point beyond the images in the story itself. In a parable the characters and the other images are always pointing to some eternal message. Some aspects of these stories are easier to understand than others. In today’s parable, the bridegroom is obviously Jesus. The delay in the bridegroom’s arrival represents the delay in the ultimate return of the risen Christ–which we refer every week in the Eucharistic prayer, "Christ has died; Christ has risen; Christ will come again! And he has not yet come again. The wise and foolish bridesmaids probably represent the Christian community, and the house where the wedding is to happen is most likely a symbol for heaven. So, we can decipher some aspects of this parable, but what is the meaning of the oil for the lamps? That’s an element in this story has been up for debate for centuries. You see, some interpreters–both ancient and modern--have suggested that the oil represents "good works." The foolish ones don’t make it in, because they haven’t been good enough. Of course, that interpretation is not one that we Lutherans feel comfortable with. On a theological level, we would agree with the famous statement by Mae West: "Goodness had nothing to do with it." We Lutherans much prefer another interpretation of the oil, and it also is one found in ancient times as well as modern times. William Loader, a theology professor down in Australia, states it this way: "(this story) is about sustaining the life of faith." The oil represents faith! Jesus is saying to us today that, over the long haul, it is so important to keep the faith. In the face of trouble, we must not be tempted to lose faith. Whether we’re young or we’re old, Jesus is encouraging us to strive for a durable faith. And how do we do that? Read the Bible. Pray. But above all, what seems to help the most is being a part of the Christian community–hearing the Word, receiving the sacraments, worshiping, and serving. That gives us the extra oil for our lamps–so that when the "wedding" does begin, there’ll be no mishaps. Amen.