Fruits of the Spirit

David Thomas
June 27, 2010

Note: prior to delivering this sermon, I also conducted the “children’s sermon” session in which I taught the children (and the congregation) an acronym for learning and remembering all nine of the “fruits of the Spirit” given in v. 22. Judi put up a colorful slide behind me to illustrate this acronym. The initial letters become a prayer, “Please Lord Jesus, Let God’s Gifts of the Fruits of the Spirit Transform Me.” That is the reason I used this simple prayer in the benediction at the close of this sermon. DAT

Invocation: Come into our hearts, Lord Jesus. Through the Holy Spirit, let God’s gifts of the fruits of the spirit, transform us, and lead us into true freedom. Amen

Gal. 2:1, 13-25 SELECTED VERSES
Galatians 5 (King James Version)

1 Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.

16 This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. For these are contrary the one to the other: If ye be led of the Spirit, ye are not under the law.

19Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, Idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, Envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like:

22But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

The Word of the Lord.

[JUDI CHANGE SLIDE]

A little background about Paul and this letter:

The scene is this: Galatia is not the name of a church. It is a geographic region in Asia Minor, containing several churches. It’s like a letter we might call “The Floridians,” written to a handful of new church developments along I-4 between Tampa and Orlando.

Paul was a letter writer. I can relate. I have a bit of a history as a letter writer myself.

I like to tell people that I am a Vietnam Era veteran. The fact is, I never actually served in Vietnam. I spent my two years’ active duty in the Army as an ROTC officer sitting in an office in III Corps Headquarters at Ft. Hood, Texas. My job was to sign and initial official letters for the Commanding General. Signing routine paperwork a few hours each morning was the job of a lowly lieutenant like me.

Everybody gets tons of mail in our mailboxes at home. Almost all of the postal mail consists of advertisements disguised to look like letters. We don’t often get actual letters from people any more.

When we want to communicate personally, many of us are likely to use electronic media. We call people on the phone, we use Email, [Boy, do I use Email! I’ve been accused of spamming my friends], FaceBook, Myspace, text messages, and so on. As the movie says, your boyfriend can reject you through seven different portals.

Don’t imagine that Paul was sitting down in his jail cell in Philippi or wherever, thinking, “Today I am going to write my part of the New Testament.” No, Paul was just writing a heartfelt personal letter, plain and simple. That’s how he communicated.

The churches of Galatia were little “house churches.” There weren’t huge megachurches with tall steeples and thousands of members. They were small groups of ordinary families, and some neighbors. Each Sunday, they met in the front room of a home. They took their communion around the family dinner table. They prayed, sang from the Psalms, and then they would read Paul’s letter. The leaders preached, and they taught.

The family that lived in the house would be among the first members of the church. When some of the family members refused to join, that would create family tension.

Being the confrontational person that he was, Paul found that not everyone liked him or his upstart house churches. People do not like it when an outsider criticizes their ways of life.
Kind of like native Sarasotans feel about Yankees.

This kind of conflict is happening to house churches today in a lot of places around the world, say, in the Middle East. The surrounding communities don’t say, “Live and let live” about them.

Back in the Galatian churches, when Paul came into town and preached the gospel, it was the very first time they had ever heard of it. Only a few people believed. Their belief in and of itself caused a lot of problems.

When Paul moved on down the road to his next new church, those problems didn’t go away. Come to think of it, why did Paul move around so much? It wasn’t voluntary on Paul’s part. The reason Paul moved along so often was, when all those interpersonal problems got really bad, they ran him off. The letter back to the Galatians tries to smooth out their disagreements.

One commentator said that Paul’s epistles in the New Testament were a form of “damage control.”

Now let’s study the Word of God to the Galatians.

Today’s text from the letter to the Galatians is simple. We can see Paul’s theology, and we can see his admonitions and practical teachings.

First, in theological terms, Paul talks about how the spirit of the Law of Moses and the spirit in Christ are at war with each other. Legalism holds us back, but faith in Christ sets us free. That idea, may have been the most offensive thing Paul wrote, as the Galatians saw it.

Then, Paul writes some practical thoughts. Remember that list of fifteen “works of the flesh,” lasciviousness and so on. Remember that second list of nine “fruits of the Spirit.” These practical points are all supposed to be linked to the theology of freedom in Christ.

Paul chooses these metaphors deliberately. There’s a difference between works and fruits. Look at the works of the flesh, those are all about specific actions and bad behaviors. On the other hand, the fruits of the Spirit are attitudes, not just certain designated actions. Paul says, for Christians, Love, joy, peace become a constant mental and spiritual outlook.

When the Spirit of Christ dwells within, Love, joy, and peace are basic attitudes that govern all the actions that we do.

Before wrapping up, here’s how narrative preaching is supposed to work. First you tell the Bible story. But you don’t leave it back there in Bible times. Next you show how that story comes to life in our own story. That way it becomes more real.

So let’s take a closer look at these “works of the flesh:” What are we talking about, here? My brothers and sisters, Paul’s works of the flesh sound like the actions of families in modern American society to me. They sound like my own personal family of origin. Maybe it’s just me, but today’s Scripture text is not abstract to me.

To everybody who knows me, it’s no secret that my Dad was an alcoholic. I’m 71 years old now, a lot of that stuff happened 50 years ago. Bringing my story up to date as of today, counting myself and my surviving brother, my immediate extended family adds up to about eighteen people, nieces and cousins and the like.

In the real world that makes up my real family, all of these works of the flesh continue to show up, quite prominently. I do mean all of the bad behaviors on the list, including the murder. We’ve got one DUI vehicular manslaughter, by a nephew of mine. It’s all still going on. The hatred, wrath, strife, heresies, Envyings, drunkenness, in fact, all of them.

The irony is, whenever most of us get involved in the works of the flesh, we do it in the name of freedom. People say, “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, I’ll do what I want to. It’s a personal choice. You can’t stop me.” We might as well be talking about rebellious teenagers. There’s a redundancy, “Rebellious teenager.”

Paul’ teaching is, works of the flesh are just the opposite of freedom. Paul said, they are slavery to our desires. Drunkenness and addictions are merely the most obvious examples. Anger and envy, and all the rest, have that same destructive potential.

I want to conclude on a positive note. Paul’s letter to the Galatians seems so judgmental and condemning, but he doesn’t just end his message to the Galatians on that downer. Paul’s “fruits of the Spirit” are his solutions for us to use in order to overcome our sinful desires. The fruits of the Spirit are the spiritual solutions for us to gain freedom.

This is a classic “problem-solution” message.

Tuesday morning Men’s Fellowship, listen up:

Jesus and Paul carried very similar messages to the people. When preached the Sermon on the Mount. He began with the Beatitudes, which we men studied just last Tuesday.

Paul’s “Fruits of the Spirit” are very much like the Beatitudes of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.

[JUDI, SLIDE CHANGE TO FIRST CALL RESPONSE.]

So here’s the “Big Finish” to my sermon. I’ll give you a problem, then you read me the solution.

I will read a problem, everybody on in the section on my right, read back a corresponding Beatitude or two, and then everybody in the section on my left, read back the corresponding Fruit of the Spirit.

For my part, I’m going to plug in Eugene Peterson’s modern day translation of the “works” language, just to make the point crystal clear.


Here we go:




I. David reads, Paul said all these acts are Works of the Flesh:

All-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants;

Uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions;


[Blue] Congregation

Jesus gave us these Beatitudes:

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

For they shall be filled.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

[Maroon] Congregation

Galatians said this is a Fruit of the Spirit:

Temperance.


[JUDI NEXT SLIDE]



II. David reads, Paul said all these acts are Works of the Flesh:

Cutthroat competition;

Vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival;


[Blue] Congregation

Jesus gave us these Beatitudes:

Blessed are the merciful,

For they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart,

For they shall see God.


[Maroon] Congregation

Paul said this is a Fruit of the Spirit:

Gentleness, Goodness.


[JUDI NEXT SLIDE]


III. David reads, Paul said all these acts are Works of the Flesh:

A brutal temper.

Divided homes, divided lives.


[Blue] Congregation

Jesus gave us these Beatitudes:

Blessed are the peacemakers,

For they shall be called sons of God.

Blessed are the meek,

For they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are the pure in heart,

For they shall see God.


[Maroon] Congregation

Paul said these are a Fruit of the Spirit:


Love, Joy, Peace.


[JUDI NEXT SLIDE]


ALL: [Benediction]

Please Lord Jesus,

Let God’s Gifts--

Of the Fruits of the Spirit--


Transform--


US.


Amen

My Name Is Legion - June 20, 2010

Luke 8:26 - 39
Ordinary Time
Michael (Mickey) Miller

[ … a man of the city who had demons met Him. v. 27b ]
My name is Legion. My problem is what have been called demons.

The man who called himself Legion in today’s story believed in demons, demons as spiritual beings in rebellion against God. They could tempt, even take over, human beings. They could deliberately cause us to act in ways disobedient to God, and harmful to ourselves and to others.

We moderns like to think those who believe in demons are unsophisticated, naïve, superstitious. But we also sometimes experience uncontrollable, or nearly uncontrollable, impulses to do things we know are wrong, and are harmful to ourselves and others.

We talk about other causes – nature and nurture, hereditary and environmental influences, or such physical or psychological things as bio-chemistry, Freud’s id, or the reptilian sub-layer of the brain. But isn’t it interesting that in our modern world, with little room for “spiritual beings”, we still speak of demonizing people, and of people having to deal with their demons?
My name is Legion. I’m here to tell you that there is more out there, and more within us, working against our better selves, than just some neutral and powerless “absence of good”. There are powerful forces that lead us as individuals and as groups to act in ways we know are not right, in ways we know are harmful.

They sure feel like demons!

In the days of today’s story, they isolated people possessed by demons, got them away from other people. They chained them at times, and even used guards if necessary. Today, there are tranquilizers and other medications, jails, hospitals, therapies, behavioral modifications. The goal is the same – to control these powerful forces.

[ “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?
I beg you, do not torment me.” v. 28b ]
One day Jesus came along - in today’s story, and in my life. Not just the fairy tale Jesus in many people’s minds. The real Jesus. Alive! Powerful! Holy!

What has He to do with me? When I experience His Presence, or His Peace, or His Power, or His Purpose, even partially, even momentarily, I am filled with an inexpressible joy! But I also experience shame, for how far short I fall of living the life He lived, and the life He intends for me to live. If I am honest, my first thought has to be, “What have you to do with me, Jesus?” “Don’t torment me.”

[ Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?”
He said, “Legion”…. v. 30a.b ]
Jesus asked me my name! The man in today’s story has no name. He is only “the man who had demons”. The name my parents gave me is not important in this story. I could be David Rockefeller, or Joe Schmoe. It doesn’t matter. I’m not defined by the name my parents gave me. I’m defined by my demons. Lots of people are, even today. Liar. Thief. Cheater. Adulterer. Abuser. Narcissist. Appeaser. Addict. Sexual offender. Sociopath. The list goes on and on.

But Jesus asked, “What is your name?” What could I tell Jesus? In Hebrew culture, especially in Biblical times, a person’s name is a reflection of the core of that person’s character. What was the core of my character? A Legion was the largest unit of the occupying Roman army, 3000 to 6000 foot soldiers plus cavalry. That’s a very large number. My name, in a real sense, was Legion. A Legion of demons was at the core of who I was. So I told Jesus my name was Legion.

Even today, I am visited by many of those demons by which we define people, and many others. Legion. Godly Play asks, “Where are you in this story?” I’m right in the middle of it!

My special demon was anger. I’ve been told that, as a child, I was seen, out in the yard, straddling my little brother, holding him by the ears, and banging his head on a tree root. I can recall times, as a child, having to choke back rage, feeling I had been terribly wronged, and that justice itself had been outraged. What more likely was going on was that I simply was not getting my way.
That’s anger. That’s the Seven Deadly Sins kind of anger. A demon in control.

I won’t confess any of my other special demons, right now. But that doesn’t mean anger was the only one needing Jesus’ help.

Jesus knew about my demons. He knew I couldn’t control them, all by myself. But He didn’t condemn me, or even scold me. To Him, I wasn’t defined by my demons. To Him, I was – and am – a beloved child of God. To Him, I am someone intended to, and who can, live a meaningful life, a life that will please God and help others, despite my demons, and despite the wounds my demons have inflicted upon me. Those wounds, you know, continue, even after the demons have been cast out.

In my life as Mickey Miller, this first encounter with Jesus was at a Methodist church youth camp. Let’s continue to pray for those at Montreat, and other church camps this Summer. Let’s pray that they will meet Jesus there.

[ They begged Him not to order them to go back into the
abyss…. v. 31a
So He gave them permission.
Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine,
and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake
and was drowned. vss. 32c, 33 ]

I don’t know why Jesus didn’t just destroy the demons. I don’t know why He let them do damage to the pigs and to the livelihood of the people in the area when the pigs ran into the water and drowned. I don’t know why Jesus lets the demons keep coming back, why I still have to contend with them, even after Jesus has broken their control over me.

Maybe that’s what free will is all about. Maybe God leaves the demons there, as part of life’s challenge, part of our pilgrimage. Maybe a part of our calling as human beings, and as followers of Jesus, is to recognize the demons and to resist them.

Maybe that’s why the serpent was in the Garden of Eden story in the first place. Maybe we can’t choose to live for and with God, unless we have a real choice to do the opposite. Maybe God gives us that choice, as we give our own children freedom to make decisions, knowing they are likely to make some bad choices, but also knowing they never can grow up unless they have that choice.

Anger. I recognize that demon. I see it at work in others. Some continue to struggle with it more, or in different ways, than I. One of my demons tempts me to look down on those fellow pilgrims, as if I were in some way better than they, just because they have different coping mechanisms than I.

Ah, the pride demon never is very far away. Even when I can be of genuine help to someone going through a struggle I’ve been through, the temptation is to be a little smug, a little condescending, in my attitude, if not in my words and actions, as if all of life were a competition, and I am ahead of that person in the competition.

The really BIG demon, you see, the one who tempted Jesus Himself, goes after us right where we live.

Someone wrote in a college church publication, back when I was in school, saying our basic moral and spiritual problem is that we are “perched atop the vertical pronoun”. “I” It’s like a default position on a computer. I climb down from my perch of self-centeredness, to do something genuinely good, or kind, or selfless, and then, blink, in the twinkling of an eye, I am so very proud of myself, and I’m right back up on that perch.

Look at the temptations of Jesus. Make bread out of stones. (Use your miraculous powers to satisfy your own hunger.) Jump off the pinnacle of the Temple. (Show off as God’s special Son.) (Make one little compromise - bow down to Satan just once) and you can rule the world! All three are just different ways of saying, “Fight for the top of that vertical pronoun! Enjoy it! Flaunt it!”

We need not to be distracted by the junior-grade demons, from the life-long task of climbing down from our own vertical pronoun, and staying down among those who need us. Jesus did it perfectly. And the saints have done it so much better than we.

Why do we identify Mother Teresa as a saint? We learned after her death that she spent many years yearning for a vital sense of Jesus’ Presence, and being frustrated in that yearning, time and again. But in the meantime, she had an unwavering sense of Christ’s Purpose for her life. She climbed down, from her vertical pronoun, and stayed down, with the poor, and the sick, and the forgotten, loving them in simple and concrete ways, as Jesus did. She’s with Him now, experiencing His full Presence, for which she so yearned in life, and also experiencing other joys I can’t even conceive.

Legion. A large number. A lot! There are not just lots of demons. There are also lots of people, with demons. I said earlier that I am right in the middle of today’s story. Are some of you in there with me, by now?

WHAT DO WE DO ABOUT THOSE STILL-BUSY DEMONS?

One form of piety, in the history of our faith, has been to assume a life of anxiety and sadness. Some have seen it as their duty to engage in physical self-flagellation, whipping themselves, as a form of penance, for giving in to the demons from time to time, or even for just being tempted by them. Others engage in psychological self-flagellation, whipping themselves mentally, never forgiving themselves, even long after God has forgiven, and forgotten, the wrong.

Jesus didn’t say anything to me about whipping – or not forgiving – myself. So may I suggest another form of piety? What if we looked upon the continuing presence of the demons, and our God-intended response to them, as a Divinely-instituted, and permanent, game of Whack-A-Mole, or Whack-A-Demon?

Am I feeling critical of my neighbor, without even trying to understand? Whack!

Am I blaming all the country’s problems on the other political party, or its leaders? Whack!

Do I spend my time and energy trying to assign blame to others, rather than to find solutions? Whack!

Do I want to check out just a little on-line porn? Whack!

Do I want to read, and contribute to, a hate blog, or participate in a hate conversation?
Whack!

Do I want to pass on just a little poisonous gossip, dripping just a little poison in the well? Whack!

What a wonderful day it will be, when we all know, and love, each other well enough, so that when one of us is being tempted, and our family and friends see it before we do, they will feel free to sidle up to us and ask, not “You gonna eat that pickle?”, but “You gonna whack that demon?”
[ And they were afraid….
Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes
asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. vss 35d, 37 ]

At first I wondered why the townspeople weren’t mad at Jesus, for the loss of the pigs, why instead they were afraid.

But then I remembered that they, as I, experienced the Presence, and the Power, of a person who could change our reality, who could do the impossible, and whose value system brought into question everything we believed and thought we knew, and everything we owned and valued.

Remember, in the Bible stories, that whenever angels appear, or when God appears in the burning bush, or when Jesus walks on the water, that people are afraid? Remember that they have to be reassured, usually by words beginning “Fear not”?

The authentic experience of the Holy – of God, or the Spirit, or the Living Jesus, or even just angels, is disorienting to our everyday reality. And being disoriented is very frightening.

No wonder the townspeople were afraid. They didn’t want to argue with Jesus about the pigs. They just wanted Jesus to leave!

[ The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with Him;
but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home,
and declare how much God has done for you.” vss. 38 – 39a ]
In today’s story, I wanted to be one of Jesus’ close followers, one of those who gave up everything - their livelihood, their families, all they had. The payoff, of course, would be that I would get to be constantly in His immediate and wonderful Presence.

But that’s not what He wanted from me, or for me. He didn’t tell me to give up everything. He didn’t tell me to whip myself. He didn’t let me live in His Presence all the time.

He told me instead to return to my home, and to declare how much God has done for me. Returning to your home, though, once you have met Jesus, is not just going to a house somewhere. Jesus – the abundant and eternal life that Jesus is and shares – now is my home - even when I can sense His Peace, or His Presence, or His Power, or His Purpose, only partially, or only occasionally.

Yes, we may have problems of bad genes, or bad life experiences. Yes, we may have bad biochemistry. Yes, we may have to struggle with Freud’s id, or with a reptilian core layer of the brain. And yes, there is a need to utilize the medications and therapies of modern healing techniques.

But beneath all of that, at the very deepest part of who we are, there still is a hunger for God, like that of a deer dying of thirst, panting for water. Deep still calls to deep – God’s Spirit still calls out to us, and our spirits still call out to God. Augustine was right, when he said, “Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our souls are restless till they find their rest in Thee.”

The Good News is that God loves us. God is still reaching out to us, as we seek for Him. The demons will not win the battle. Jesus will not let us go.

My name is Legion. I am a work in progress. Jesus broke the control of the anger demon over my life. He didn’t cast it out, in the sense that it was never to be heard from again. But He did cast it out of the driver’s seat. It still tries to come back, and to regain control, from time to time. But it doesn’t define who I am. And it doesn’t monopolize my attention, or my energy, any more.

I have learned that the best way to keep the demons out, and also the best way to declare what God has done for me, is to open my heart, and my mind, and my life, asking Jesus, every day, to come in and to live there, and to transform me, one baby step at a time, even kicking and screaming, into His very image. There’s a long way to go. But it’s a wonderful journey.

If you are struggling to control a demon today; if you are wanting to stop whipping yourself, and start playing Whack-A-Demon instead; if you are wanting to climb down from atop your vertical pronoun and live where Jesus lives; if you want to tell the world what Jesus has done for you; or if you want to do all of the above today;

I invite you to begin by joining the children and me as we sing, and pray, once more:

Into my heart,
into my heart,
come into my heart,
Lord Jesus.
Come in today.
Come in to stay.
Come into my heart,
Lord Jesus.
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Know Mercy? Show Mercy!

Luke 7:36-8:3
Ordinary Time
Elizabeth M. Deibert

From the time we are young, we are inclined to divide people into the good guys and the bad guys. We categorize people -- those who might do us some good, and those who will either drag us down or do nothing for our status. We group people. There are some people who are worthy of our attention, and some people whom we can dismiss as not worthy of our time or energy. I’ve been reading “The Help” by Kathryn Stockett. Because she writes the book from the perspective of both white and black women in Mississippi in the early 60’s, you can feel the hurt of the African American “help” even as you hear how easily their employers dismiss them as less than human. They are not there to do anything but help. It was a world with all kinds of unspoken rules and everybody following them, scared to do anything else…until one white woman and two black women find some courage to step outside that world and see each other with new eyes.

Jesus asks Simon if he sees this woman. Well, of course, he sees her, but does he see her as Jesus sees her? With what kind of lens does Simon see her? With the lens of mercy or the lens of judgment? I think it’s safe to say, he looks down his nose at her. He puts her in a box – sinner, a woman of the city. If I can find someone “worse” than me, then I am always in a position to feel pretty good about myself by comparison.

The unnamed woman of this story might be a prostitute or she might be a devoted follower like Mary of Bethany, with her sister Martha. See how even now, I’m trying to figure out whether she belongs in the good woman or bad woman box. Perhaps, just perhaps, she might be both. In anointing Jesus, she could be good woman, fully devoted or evil woman, trying to seduce Jesus with her long flowing hair. Or perhaps she is both. She is the good and the bad all rolled up in one complicated personality – just like each of us.

Jesus offers harsh challenges to those who think they are better than others. We all play these games in our heads. Someone is not as smart or good-looking or wealthy or personable or secure or sophisticated or well-heeled or spiritual as you. You dismiss them. The off-hand comment. The glance beyond their face.

Oh, how subtle is our prejudice. It’s not just skin tone. We look for all kinds of ways to place people in the less-than-me box, and in so doing, we place ourselves in the less-than-me box. We become less than we were created to be by our judgment of others. Remember the Pharisee and the tax collector, praying side by side. The Pharisee said, “Thank you, God, I am not like that tax collector.” The tax collector said, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Remember in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’ challenge to judge not, so we will not be judged. Take the log out of your own eye, so you can see clearly to remove the speck you keep staring out in your neighbor’s eye. If we are truly humble, then we are able to see both the sparkle and the pain in other people’s eyes, both the goodness and the badness. We are not looking to pick out the specks, not trying to spot the blemishes but seeing beauty, seeing them as children of God, no different from me.

Hear the word of the Lord from the Gospel of Luke, from the Gospel writer most determined to challenge the male-dominated world of the 1st century by pointing out the faithful female followers of Jesus Christ.

NRS Luke 7:36 One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and took his place at the table. 37 And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. 38 She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. 39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him-- that she is a sinner." 40 Jesus spoke up and said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Teacher," he replied, "Speak." 41 "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?" 43 Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt." And Jesus said to him, "You have judged rightly." 44 Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little." 48 Then he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." 49 But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?" 50 And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
8:1 Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, 2 as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, 3 and Joanna, the wife of Herod's steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.


Versions of this story are in all four gospels, but Luke is the one who emphasizes her tears rather than the expense of the massage oil or ointment. In Luke, there is no sense of waste of the ointment, but a clear sense that she is being judged by Simon for being a sinner, for not belonging, for being inappropriate. In Luke and Luke only, Jesus explains this extreme act of devotion by telling the parable of the creditor who is owed money by two debtors. He compares the unnamed woman to the debtor with a great debt. When a great debt is forgiven, there is overwhelming gratitude.

So if you’re not feeling particularly grateful to God this week, perhaps you have not pondered the debt you owe. If we truly see the glory of God and truly see ourselves, then we too would be wiping Jesus’ feet with our tears. We too would be on our knees, overwhelmed with a need to say thanks, ready to give, ready to love. Instead we busy ourselves measuring up other people and their worthiness.

Just as we have trouble in life avoiding the judgment of others, so in this narrative, it is particularly challenging to avoid judgment. We want to judge the woman for being sinful and Simon for being Pharisaical. But we cannot judge the woman nor can we judge Simon, because we are them. Everyone of us is both Simon and the woman. Like Simon, we are too preoccupied condemning others to give Jesus the honor he deserves. Like the woman, we are indebted to the Lord for a mercy which lets even us in the door. She understands her indebtedness and thereby is the heroine of the story.

That brings me to the textual challenge of this passage. Take a look at the scripture in your bulletin insert. Verse 47. This is the climax, the teaching moment, the moral of the story and the parable together. Jesus says, “Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many (notice past tense – indicating that she’s repented and turned from her sin) her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. HENCE, a wonderfully ambigious word meaning “for this reason, or following from this, or therefore” Some translations say “because.” This little Greek word “Oti” is often translated “because.” Now stop and think about it. There is a big difference is saying “she’s been forgiven because she has shown great love.” And “she’s been forgiven, therefore/hence she has shown great love.”

Maybe the ambiguity is intended and necessary. If our sins are many (and I believe that is the witness of scripture and the witness of life– that our sins are many), then our forgiveness by God is both result of our love for God and the cause of our love for God. Because loving God means truly seeing God’s glory and our failure to live fully in that image, with humility.

I want to close with the story of Saint Cyril, an abbot in a monastery in Russia. Cyril was known for his great reverence and particularly for his humility. One year, there was a monk who developed a severe hatred toward Cyril. This monk was so overcome with grief over his ill will toward his abbot, that one day he confessed it to Cyril. “I have spent an entire year, thinking bad thoughts about you, thinking you are a sinful man, not remembering that you are an honorable man and my spiritual leader. Immediately Cyril offered the monk comfort and laughed with him, saying, “All the other monks are in error concerning me. Only you have perceived the truth – my unworthiness. He forgave him and sent him away in peace.”

In his great humility, Cyril knew God’s mercy, so he showed mercy, even toward someone who had spent a year hating him.

Circling Back To Hope

Psalm 42-43
Ordinary Time
Elizabeth M. Deibert

Tears filled her tired eyes. She had spent a couple of weeks making all the arrangements for her parents to go back to Ohio with a caregiver, and then her mother was hospitalized. Complications, cancelled flight, changed plans to include a heart procedure in Cleveland, Ohio. I’m speaking of our friend, Diane, who with Bill, had hoped to be with us at Peace longer this summer. Life caring for elderly parents is stressful. The enemy is disease, the relentless falling apart of our bodies.

At the other end of the age spectrum we have the roller coaster adolescent years. One day everything’s great. Sun is shining, friends are cool, school is tolerable. Next day everything’s terrible. Teachers were mean. Practice was awful. Friends betray a trust or parents embarrass. The enemy is insecurity and the collection of other insecure people, trying to grow up together.

An adult couple enjoyed a delicious dinner. The after dinner movie was stimulating. The after movie conversation was interesting. The after conversation drinks were relaxing. The after drink activities were fulfilling. Same couple – different night. The dinner was punctuated by critical comments. One person dozed through the movie. Bedtime was interrupted by a toddler with an earache or a teenager, who is not home by curfew. Argument ensues about how to handle the toddler or the teen. The enemy is exhaustion, the pressures of adult life, and the challenges of living in loving, forgiving relationship.

The circle of life. Some days, some months, some years are really frustrating. And I haven’t even mentioned the really hard stuff – death, debilitating disease, dangerous drinking and drugs, divorce, disabilities. And what about deep debt, deadly oil spills, dead-end job searches, depression, despair over dieting, disrespectful debates.

Some of you talk to yourselves. We all do, really, either in our heads or aloud. So what is it that you say? What you say matters a lot.

The psalmist has a running conversation with him or herself, saying, “Why are you so down and out? Why are people tormenting you – driving you crazy, making you think there is no God. Note to self: Remember who God is. Have a little hope. Soon you’ll be praising God again.

We’re going to read these two psalms together because they really are one unit. So when we come to the repeated dialogue with self, I invite you to read it with me. It will be clearly marked.

NRS Psalm 42 As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. 2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God? 3 My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me continually, "Where is your God?" 4 These things I remember, as I pour out my soul: how I went with the throng, and led them in procession to the house of God, with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival. 5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help 6 and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. 7 Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. 8 By day the LORD commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life. 9 I say to God, my rock, "Why have you forgotten me? Why must I walk about mournfully because the enemy oppresses me?" 10 As with a deadly wound in my body, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me continually, "Where is your God?" 11 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.
NRS Psalm 43 Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause against an ungodly people; from those who are deceitful and unjust deliver me! 2 For you are the God in whom I take refuge; why have you cast me off? Why must I walk about mournfully because of the oppression of the enemy? 3 O send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling. 4 Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy; and I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God. 5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.


I can remember reading this psalm from the old red hymnal as a kid and reciting these very lines. They mean more to me today because of their ring of familiarity. “Hope in God for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.” Words have a powerful way of shaping our reality.

When my dad was facing life-treatening surgery for the second time in his retirement years, I faced the fact that he might die. I remember driving alone from Montgomery, AL, to Durham, N. Carolina. I began to sob and so I started singing hymns and spiritual songs. At the top of my lungs I sang those songs as if the sheer volume of it all would drive my fears away. I think it did. He died several years later in this month of June, but by then I had done some of my grieving early. Those extra years beyond cancer diagnosis were a gift before the stroke which took him.

Let’s sing the psalm now and put these reminders to self in the right part of our brains, as well as the left. Let’s take this hope into our hearts as we sing the mournful tune of “Go down Moses”

Sing Psalm 42 &43 by Hal Hopson. O why are you cast down, my soul? Wait for the Lord. O why such grief, my inmost heart? Wait for the Lord.

Labyrinths help us to journey to the center of our deepest self and back out into the world with a broadened understanding of who we are. So with this pair of Psalms of Judaism, which we read as Christians, believing Christ was in the beginning with God.

The journey begins with water, the symbol of our baptism and our union with Christ. There is the water of our tears, our suffering with Christ, and the water of chaos, calling us to depend on Christ.

Water in your life can serve as a labyrinth, reminding you of your need for God. Every time this summer as you feel desperately parched and fill your glass with water, give thanks for the one who quenches your deepest thirst. When you stand under the shower head, with water flowing over to wash and refresh your body, think of Christ who marked you on your head as God’s beloved child and washed your soul.

As you pass over the Skyway bridge, think of the God who can calm the storms, who may cause you (or allow you, if you prefer that notion) to pass through raging waters in which you will not drown, but have opportunity to grow all the more dependent on God, so you may sing songs of praise even in the dark of night of the soul. As you stand on the beach to watch the ebb and the tide of the ocean, think of the steadfast love of God which never stops rolling in to wash over you, forgiving and restoring you.

A life of faith is a labyrinth of going deeper and deeper, even as we pass by familiar paths, circling back to hope. The psalmist finds hope in remembering the good times, the mountaintop experiences, surrounded by friends and family, in the procession of the faithful. The remembrance is especially significant now that sickness or something prevents him from going the pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

Our joyful, remembrances sustain us with hope when loneliness and despair creep in and we find ourselves saying to our souls, “Why are you so bummed out? Why are you so restless and afraid?” And we remember the answer, “Hope in God. For I will circle back to praise the Lord, my help and my God.”

What I find most fascinating about this psalm is that it encourages us to hope in God, while never ignoring the situation of hopelessness. We are encouraged to hope in God, and we wait for that hope to arrive. Hope in God. Come on, remember all the good God has done. But then wait for hope and lament to God. Hope is not immediate. We are circling back to hope, coming round to praising God. There may be some mournful days, when there are no songs. We do not hop from mountaintop to mountaintop. The valleys are in between.

And when you are in the valley, when people are looking at you, and you see them wondering, “Why can’t she pull it together? Isn’t she a believer? I thought he was a church-goer? Why isn’t God helping him now? I mean, look at his messed up life?” “Where is your God?” remember that your hope and your help are in God. In Bible times, suffering was often understood to be a sign of God’s absence or disapproval. But the whole book of Job and many of the Psalms, not to mention Paul’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians and our Call to Discipleship from Romans 5, help us to counter that thought. Sometimes in our day people consider all the bad things in the world a sign that God doesn’t exist or doesn’t care or isn’t involved in our lives. And that can be discouraging to those of us who are hanging on to faith in troubled times.

But these psalms remind us that the discouragement and hope are a normal part of the journey of faith. In the labyrinth of life, we circle back through grief as we pass by significant dates and memories. We sometimes circle back to failures in areas of life that we have battled and are still weak, but by God’s grace we can circle back to hope.

And today and every Sunday we circle back to worship, to labyrinth through our faith again, remembering who we are, as the beloved children of God. We circle back to hope, knowing we are baptized into Christ’s life and his death, suffering to grow strong in endurance and character, eventually making our way around the labyrinth of life to the deepest place of hope in God, where no one can rock our secure faith in God.

We are traveling to that deep place of faith, the holy hill of hope tested by suffering, where nothing can separate us from the love of God, , who circled this life with us in Jesus Christ and who promises to lead us round the bend to our final home.

On Christ, the solid rock we stand. All other ground is sinking sand. Circle back through the maze of your particular struggle to hope, and as you do, find hope rising up in you.