Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost
Scriptures: Job 38:1-7 & 34-41, Psalm 104:1-9, 24, 35c, Hebrews 5:1-10, Mark 10:35-45
Sermon
There’s a word that we love to use as though it had some sort of impact on the world. It can be comforting, and it can be hurtful; it can explain everything or nothing. With this one word, we can express humility and uncertainty, or we can arrogantly or fearfully fly in the face of reality as we know it.
The word is “should.” Obviously, this isn’t a bad word, and if there’s any guilt involved in its use, then I’m as guilty as the next person. I’d imagine that “should” is used in a helpful manner at least as often as not. For example, if my 3-year-old son skins his knee at daycare – it happens all the time – his teacher cleans the wound, puts on a band-aid, and says, “this should help.”
We don’t always think about the risks of words, but of course, they are part of how we understand reality. When I was a hospital chaplain, I heard the word “should” used in ways that were not so helpful. “I should have seen it coming.” “I should have quit earlier.” Expressions of regret. Most likely, everyone here has felt the “should” of a lost opportunity, a missed chance.
But here’s where it really made me feel helpless, as a spiritual caregiver. When I heard, “Things should be different!” “This shouldn’t be happening.” It isn’t always under such extreme circumstances that we use the word “should” to try and deny reality.
In the face of challenges, big or small, one of our survival instincts, as a species, is to deny what is happening. I’m sure this isn’t news to you, but it’s a hard truth that our scripture readings today demand that we face.
And you may be thinking right now, “Well pastor, this sermon’s another downer! Today’s a celebration. Your sermon should be joyful!” “Should.”
Well, you’d be right, and – surprise – I say all of that, in part, to say this: thank you. It has been approximately 200 days since the congregation voted to approve repairs to the sanctuary. Not once in that time did someone “should” me. That is to say, nobody used the word “should” to deny the reality of our situation. For example, “We should just be back in our building!”
The closest anybody came was “We’ve got to get back to our building.” Yes, absolutely! To be back here was a priority, where we can be accessible to the immediate community, and where we’re in the familiar setting for worship and service that we chose as our church “home.”
If someone had said to me, “We really should be in our own building,” I’d have known what you meant, and I probably would have felt the same way, but where the people of St. Stephen’s Lutheran Church have shined is in seeing the situation for what it was, and making the most of it. This was on top of a pandemic, when the entire world was adjusting – and readjusting – to new ways of life.
Thanks be to God that we are back “home.”
It also points to your faith that, even as we resume worship in this space, more than one member has asked me what we will do to continue our relationship with our neighbors, the Plainfield Friends. You’ve probably heard this a dozen times by now, but it still amazes me that their trustees and congregation voted not only to let us use their annual worship hall, but would not accept rent, cleaning costs, or any other fee for the space. You may not have heard that they didn’t set a time limit: their message was, “Use our sanctuary as long as you have the need.”
When I hear St. Stephen’s folk ask about continuing the relationship with the Friends, my first thought – even though it’s not what you’re saying – is that we can never repay them. But of course, we know that’s not the point. They listened to God, they heard our need, and answered our need, which is the work of God.
You’re asking the right question: not “how to repay them,” but “how to continue to celebrate that we are neighbors, and fellow members of the Body of Christ.” The short-term answer is that we’ll hold another shared worship service, this time inviting them into our sanctuary, when the time is right. Let’s continue to discern together how we can be good and faithful neighbors to the Friends and others in the Plainfield Federation of Churches – and beyond – now that we’re back home.
There’s one more thing I want to raise up with gratitude about our community of St. Stephen’s. Over and over, I heard about how much you care for this building. It’s fair to say that most people here have a different relationship with the building than I do – some of you saw it built, you’ve seen and even been a part of baptisms, weddings, and other celebrations.
Most of my time here has been with an empty building, starting during the pandemic and recording services to share online before we were even at the Friends’ building. Partly to share how you see the building, and partly to reminisce, many people here have shared memories of your favorite seasons and occasions in this holy space. I’ve heard about the seasonal decorations; you’ve shared pictures of events, full of joyful faces.
With all of that, I’m not aware of anyone having put this building above our identity as a people of God. I say this with care, recognizing that it is mete and right to be good stewards of things in our care, including church buildings. What I mean is that nobody even hinted to me that if we’re not meeting in our building, we’re not a church.
It is God that gathers us in as people of God, regardless of the place we meet. I believe that we as a congregation know this, because I saw us practicing it these past months. It was difficult. On the best days, it reminded me of my first semester of college, when I tried to live between my dorm room and my grandparent’s house; sometimes I’d forget my toothbrush, and it was annoying. At the Friends Church, sometimes I’d forget to bring the robe I’d planned to wear, and it was annoying.
On the worst days, it was downright tough. We had to figure out how to minister out of one building – with the Food Pantry and meetings and care packages and the sewing group and more – and worship in another. We’re not the first church to face such challenges. Really, my sense was that we recognized how wonderful it was just to have a roof over our heads.
I have seen Christ at work in your hearts, and through your hands in prayer and service, even as we passed through this incredibly challenging time. Humility and gratitude are not always encouraged in our society, but they are Christian traits.
And so I’ll say it again. For everyone who has offered prayers;
for those who have cleaned this space and helped arrange it for worship;
for those who make financial contributions as tithe and those who donated to the repair process;
for those who worked with our contractor, and who bore the weight of decisions;
for everyone who has attended the special meetings (and borne with us as we learn how to use Zoom as a platform);
for your patience with me as your new pastor;
and for your commitment to living out Christ’s commandment to love God and neighbor, in the face of this challenge: thank you. I thank God for you.
And thinking of Job, this morning is a whirlwind moment. Other times in the Bible, God speaks from the Heavens, or dreams, or even out of the silence. In today’s reading, God answers Job out of the whirlwind.
Throughout the Book of Job, his three friends harangue him with what is apparently a bad theological argument. They see him suffering, and gather around him to say that God is good, and that righteous people receive God’s favor, so Job must be unrighteous. In their eyes, Job is receiving punishment for wrong things he did. They “should” Job. “You should just confess what you did wrong. Then maybe God will go easy on you.”
Job’s counterargument is that he was righteous, so God must not really reward the righteous. He points to examples of unrighteous people who live great lives. Job “shoulds” himself. He seems to believe that he deserves better, saying, “I should be rewarded for my behavior. I shouldn’t be punished.”
Another character, who doesn’t know the others well, defends God by saying that God is beyond human understanding or judgement. I wonder if there’s even a “should” in this argument, a nihilistic “You shouldn’t even try to figure out God.”
Then God shows up. That’s where this morning’s passage begins. I was listening to a couple of professors from Luther Seminary discuss this passage, and they summed up God’s response in Job chapters 38-41, “There is an order, it’s just not all about us. And nor should we presume that we can see it and know it.”
Earlier, I called this morning a “whirlwind moment.” We’re back in our own building, it’s true. There are still great needs in our community, the need for care through food, through essential services, through prayer and visits and other signs of God’s love made manifest through our hearts and hands. There’s still a pandemic. We return with as many questions as answers, such as what’s the reasonable level of risk we will take as we gather, and will it be the same as we plan for Advent and Christmas.
God’s answer to Job has been traditionally read as very unsatisfying. My response to that is, “Sure, because we want it to be all about us.” Of course it’s unsatisfying if we want to be the center of every story, if our attitude is “me me me,” if we always want to be first. Today’s Gospel lesson is a powerful statement about the Kingdom of God.
We’ve seen the disciples in a similar situation before. Chapter 9, one chapter ago, they were arguing on the road to Capernaum about who was the greatest. Jesus tells the Disciples about his upcoming death and resurrection at least three times, but we see here, again, that they still expect that he is leading them to some sort of earthly glory.
In Chapter 9, Jesus’ response was this: “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (vv. 43b-45).
Today his words are, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”
The disciples hold an unspoken “should,” one each of us likely shares with them, whether by nature or nurture. We should seek our own good, and we should be greatest. The world tells us that being first is better than being last. Being served is better than serving. But the world’s view is upside down. God’s vision is the right one: serve (in love), put yourself last (in humility), look with gratitude on all that we have, which is all the gift of God.
Holding up God’s words in Job alongside the Gospel story, because they speak about the same God, we may trust that God does have a plan. Will we ever glimpse it in full? Perhaps not, but gratitude – given in reverence and service to God – is where we may join in.
Because if you were to ask me what should come next for St. Stephen’s, I could list dozens of plans – some my own, some belonging to the Council and committees, some the hopes and dreams of individuals, and all for the sake of our community and neighbors, to the glory of God. But what I pray for is that God’s will may be done in our community, whatever human plans we make or break.
God is faithful. God has seen us through. Thanks be to God, Amen!