Daily Devotions

Then Elijah said to all the people, “Come closer to me”; and all the people came closer to him. First he repaired the altar of the LORD that had been thrown down; Elijah took twelve stones, according to the number of the tribes of the sons of Jacob, to whom the word of the LORD came, saying, “Israel shall be your name”; with the stones he built an altar in the name of the LORD. Then he made a trench around the altar, large enough to contain two measures of seed. Next he put the wood in order, cut the bull in pieces, and laid it on the wood. He said, “Fill four jars with water and pour it on the burnt offering and on the wood.” Then he said, “Do it a second time”; and they did it a second time. Again he said, “Do it a third time”; and they did it a third time, so that the water ran all around the altar, and filled the trench also with water. At the time of the offering of the oblation, the prophet Elijah came near and said, “O LORD, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your bidding. Answer me, O LORD, answer me, so that this people may know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.” Then the fire of the LORD fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench. When all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, “The LORD indeed is God; the LORD indeed is God.” 1 Kings 18:30-39

At first it seems that the story is about Elijah doing battle with the false prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. Elijah, alone and unarmed, against 450 of the best and brightest prophets of the false god in which the people’s hopes had come to rest. As if that weren’t enough, Elijah did the equivalent of tying his arms behind his back, standing on one foot and hiding his eyes. He covered the bull on his altar with water and joined the false prophets in the “Battle of the Burning Bulls.”

The false prophets prayed, pranced and prattled all day long but couldn’t produce a spark, let alone kindle a flame. Even in the face of Elijah’s prophetic trash talking, Baal didn’t answer.

Then, with a single prayer, a solitary plea to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, Elijah’s sacrifice burned like a $20 bill in a teenager’s pocket. Gone in a flash.

Winner: Elijah and the one true God.

At first it seems that the story is about Elijah doing battle with the false prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel…until we see the response of the people in the 39^th verse. Then we see the battle for what it truly was.

It was a battle for the hearts and minds of people who ought to have known better in the first place. It was about God graciously accommodating the needs of his fickle-faithed children.

The mountains of our lives are tests. Tests of loyalty and tests of power. Tests, not in the sense of passing and failing but tests in the sense of burning away the impurities of our doubts, despairs and defects. Those mountains never go away, they just keep coming and coming. Elijah tasted God’s power that day on Mount Carmel; it wouldn’t be long before Elijah would taste again a sense of God’s absence. Then too, it would be faith that would make Elijah well.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, we often long for the kind of cosmic display of your power seen on Mount Carmel. Yet even in that story, we see that such longings display a lack of faith on our part. And then we realize that it isn’t the majesty of a fire but the still small voice that reassures us of your presence that is what really strengthens our faith. Speak that word to us today. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, as well as a thick cloud on the mountain, and a blast of a trumpet so loud that all the people who were in the camp trembled. Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God. They took their stand at the foot of the mountain. Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke, because the LORD had descended upon it in fire; the smoke went up like the smoke of a kiln, while the whole mountain shook violently. As the blast of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses would speak and God would answer him in thunder. When the LORD descended upon Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain, the LORD summoned Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up. Then the LORD said to Moses, “Go down and warn the people not to break through to the LORD to look; otherwise many of them will perish. Even the priests who approach the LORD must consecrate themselves or the LORD will break out against them.” Exodus 19:16-22

The first time that Moses met God on a mountain, God revealed himself in a burning bush. Moses could only see God’s backside. When asked for a name, God said only an obtuse “I Am.” Now today, at the foot of the mountain where Moses would soon receive the commandments, God appears only in smoke, thunder and lightning.

What do we make of that?

Through the years I have heard the hard questions of the faith. Things like, “What happens to babies who die without being baptized?” “Do you have to be baptized to be included in God’s kingdom?” “What will God do to Hindus, Buddhists and Muslims at the last day?”

Often in the face of such questions, Martin Luther would return to these scenes of Moses’ encounters with God. The Moses who only saw God’s backside, not God’s fullness. Luther would remind us that God only reveals things on his own terms, in his own time. God reveals what we need to know; what we WANT to know often remains shrouded in mystery.

Why?

Because we live and walk by faith, not by sight. We live by trusting in the goodness and the graciousness of God. We trust in Jesus, the God whom we can see, who reveals the essential love of the God whom we cannot see. But that isn’t good enough for us.

If you have time, read the rest of the story of Moses on Mount Sinai. After you are reminded of the prominence of the Ten Commandments, skim quickly through the next chapters until you get to the 32^nd chapter. After hearing this long account of God’s conversation with Moses on the mountain, the 32^nd chapter will amaze you when you see what has been going on back at the ranch.

Aaron and the folks have made themselves a god. They have melted the jewelry which they had received from the Egyptians and have fashioned themselves a golden calf. They made their own god – one they could see and touch and control and take credit for. Impatient at the God whom they could not see, they settled for one of their own making.

Which God do you want to follow? The God whom you cannot see but can only trust, or the quick fix gods of our own making?

Let us pray: Dear Jesus, we can be so restless and impatient. We don’t like to wait – we want answers and action and certainty. We want goodies more than goodness. Help us embrace the mysteries and walk by faith. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the LORD saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God. Then the LORD said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey…Exodus 3:1-8

The rhythms of my life used to include an annual drive from North Dakota to the Seattle area. The high point of the trip, literally, came when this prairie raised boy drove ever closer to, then through, the majesty of the mountains.

It is easy to see how the ancient ones set mountains aside as the seat of the gods. They tower over life below, dancing with the interplay of light and shadow. And they test any person that dares conquer them.

Like everybody else, I would drive through those mountains and wonder at the courage of the first pioneers who figured out a way to cross them. I would admire the ingenuity of those who ran the first rail lines and cut the first highways that “tamed” the mountains for future travelers. The mountains were a joy.

But the strangest parts of that drive were the “continental divides.” A continental divide is a geographic feature where the rain which falls heads toward lower ground in two different directions.

I was confused the first time through as I actually crossed several continental divides and not all of them happened at the mountain passes I expected. I thought there was only one and it ought to be at the highest point of my drive. But, like life itself, it doesn’t work that way. It is never as simple as it seems, or as we long for it to be.

All week long our devotions will look some key turning point, mountain top, experiences in scripture. I hope they encourage us as we traverse the peaks and valleys of our lives.

Let us pray: Guide us ever, Great Redeemer, pilgrims through this barren land. We are weak but you are mighty, hold us with your powerful hand. Hold us indeed. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.” Luke 13:1-5

We spent last week listening to Luke 13. Many of us will hear these words again in worship on Sunday. I’m using them again today as the subterranean rumbles continue to strike fear into the hearts of the peoples in Chile and Haiti. But today I hear something new in these verses.

I don’t understand geology and any of the fine points of the seismic shifts in the earth’s tectonic plates. I don’t remember the first time someone pointed out how neatly the shape of the coast of Africa matches up with the coast of South America and explained how the crust of the earth floated on the center of molten rock. But now I’m remembering those lessons anew and I’m seeing two realities.

First, nothing in the universe is sitting still. Everything is moving, hurtling, at the speed of light. Everything is shifting, all the time, and sometimes people get hurt in all of that movement. Not only that but the Carl Sagan types argue that the universe is racing “outwards”, racing “away”, expanding. The force of gravity, which we think would be drawing things together, in the infinite web of relationships that is life, seems to be acting quite unnaturally as it contributes to this never-ending expansion. Everything rushing apart. A fast train to nowhere.

Einstein told us that the universe is curved in upon itself. That all of this rushing is more like swirling and that ultimately everything crashes back into itself. Everything rushing away to an appointment to self-destruction.

But then, like a still small voice, our faith reminds us: “This is like the days of Noah to me: Just as I swore that the waters of Noah would never again go over the earth, so I have sworn that I will not be angry with you and will not rebuke you. For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says the LORD, who has compassion on you.” (Isaiah 54:9-10)

God is our Rock who shall not be moved, and God’s promises will endure forever.

And then second, I would put both “our” and “Rock” in bold print. For the other message in the text from Luke – implicit in the word “our” – is that we are all connected to one another. Across space and time, across the vastness of the universe and the many miles between here and there, over against the forces that seem to divide us, we are all connected.

Jesus told his listeners that the martyred Galileans and the tragic victims of the falling tower were all in the same boat as them. We are all connected. Borders are illusions, flights of fantasy. We are our brother’s keeper.

As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.”

So we pray for those suffering hard times – disasters, war, disease, unemployment, hunger, oppression, hate – and we do what we can to help.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, as we move now into our time of rest, keep us mindful of those who are suffering today. Help us see the golden cord of your love which binds us together. Be our Rock of comfort and our Beacon of hope. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. Isaiah 55:12-13

For some people it was the monkeys who gave the scariest moments, for others it was the mean trees in the forest, but for all of us, cheering for Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion were highlight moments when we were growing up.

Long before I knew about the political allegory that Frank Baum wrote into his story, I was fascinated by the idea of a little girl propelled into another world of mystery and danger. As I grew up, the story grew up. As a teenager, I had read a bit about the shenanigans the little people in the cast had pulled during production. As an adult, I watched my little girl as she quietly watched the movie on video (not having to wait for the annual screening), how she, without a word, left the room just before the monkeys descended, and then just as quietly came back in for the adventure in the castle.

For Katie, the monkeys were clearly the scariest part.

No doubt part of the fascination we have had with that movie is the idea of all nature coming alive around us. Really alive, not just that strong sense we have when walking alone through a forest that we are not really alone. Dancing flowers, grouchy trees – everything around us alive, stretching, singing, clapping.

And always that little element of danger.

This is the kind of image that the writer of Isaiah casts for his hearers. As the people of Israel wake up from the painful slumber of their wasted years in Babylon, the news has arrived that they get to go home. Excitement flies through the camps. Plans are made. The few possessions still possessed are gathered up.

This time there will be no trail of tears or forced marches or demeaning humiliation. This time, with heads held high, the survivors will quick step their way back home, singing, dancing, like Dorothy and the crew. The tears will wait until they actually get there, until they discover the ashes and the stone heaps and the glory that is no longer there.

But for now they are following the road back home and all nature celebrates with them. The mountains are singing, the trees are clapping, “all nature sings and round me rings the music of the spheres!”

“Though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet!”

Let us pray: Gracious Lord, when life gets difficult, when the going gets hard, put a song in our hearts. A song of hope, a song of remembering, a song of peace and promise. Bring the world around us to life again. Resurrect us with joy. Be that enduring flame of hope that no darkness can extinguish. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:8-11

In sports they call it “mailing it in.”

“Mailing it in” is what happens when very gifted athletes don’t try very hard. They don’t play their best. They just show up and expect that good enough will be good enough. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t. The fans are never satisfied when the best players mail it in.

There is a subtle difference between fate and destiny. “Fate” is rooted in a deterministic way of looking at life. Everything that happened was preordained to happen and there is nothing that anyone can do to change it. Oedipus was consigned to fate, he had no choice in the matter. It was inevitable that he would kill his father and end up blind. Many Christians misunderstand “God’s will” or “God’s plan” in a fatalistic manner.

The trouble with that (among many other troubles with that) is that it can lead Christians to “mail in” their spiritual lives. We can listen to verses like these from Isaiah and conclude that it doesn’t matter much what we do. “God’s thoughts are higher than ours” so what point is there in trying to discern God’s will for our lives, at this point in time, with the future wide open before us?

These verses tell us to trust in God’s Word – that it won’t return empty but will “succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” Taking that too far, thinking fatalistically, leads to mailing it in. Who cares if a Christian listens to God’s Word or not, if everything is already “in the cards”? Why ought a pastor pour time, energy and passion in preaching the absolute best sermon they can on any given Sunday if all that is needed is just showing up, mailing it in? Just let the Word do its work. Yuck.

Destiny is a little different than fate. Destiny is rooted in relationship. Destiny says that we have been gifted with distinctive gifts and that our lives are about discovering and living out those gifts. Life is going somewhere and our task is to discern where and do our best to get on board. From a Christian point of view, our ultimate destiny, our final destination, is life with God – but this isn’t a “sweet by and by” destination, it is a destination we taste today that will be fulfilled in eternity.

So – yes, God’s thoughts and ways are higher than ours, but God invites us to call upon him, to seek direction from him, to listen to him. And yes, God’s Word will accomplish what it will, but we are players in God’s working all of that out. We are players, not pawns, real people, not robots. God’s work – our hands.

“Mailing in” the Christian faith is not good enough. It isn’t good enough for us, it falls short of the good God intends for us. But more importantly, it isn’t good enough for the world around us. We can’t just throw our arms up in the air, call everything “God’s plan” and fail to show up for our neighbor. Instead, trusting in God’s ultimate goodness, day after day, we are called to do the absolute best we can at whatever we do, for the good of the world. We’re called to play to win, in the best sense of that word.

Let us pray: Gracious Lord, thank you for the promises you speak to us. The good news that, although you will always be mystery to us, you still draw near to us in ways that help and guide us. The good news that we can trust your Word and know that it carries your loving intentions for our lives. Let that good news propel us to doing the best we can in living out our destiny as your children, for the good of the world. Amen.

Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. Isaiah 55:6-7

Sometimes we forget the basics.

The invitation in these verses begins with “seek the Lord.” How do we do that?

One step in seeking the Lord begins when we “call upon him while he is near.” We call upon him. We get quiet. We become still in body and still in spirit. We pray. And we listen.

As simple as this sounds, it is hard to do. I just experienced a normal Tuesday morning in our home. People waking up and getting ready to go, all stressed to varying degrees by the school work and the job work that lies ahead today, keeping the dog out of the cat food (and off the carpet), breakfast and hair and makeup and packing lunches and “don’t forget’s!!” and “Oops, I forgot my phone” and keeping the dog from running out into the street – and then the traffic! And then the day that lies ahead.

It is easy to see why “seeking the Lord” falls by the wayside. To our own peril. For if there is no room in our days for seeking the Lord it is easy to forget the deeper realities of life – the blessing of waking up in a warm bed, in a home filled with people you love who are God’s gifts in your lives, to a day without worries about where the next meal will come from, and the further blessing of meaningful daily work.

When we fail to seek the Lord, we forget who we are and Whose we are. It is as simple as a few moments of quiet. Praying the Lord’s Prayer. Perhaps writing in a journal (which is where I always land when I feel I have drifted too far away on my own.) I can’t do many other things at the same time when I’m writing so using a journal centers me in ways that little else can do. I’ve long since quit feeling bad about my inability to sustain journaling for more than a few days or weeks at a time – because I can always go back and it always works when I do.

Listening to the Bible with open ears and an open heart is seeking the Lord. These words that have been so long preserved were written just for this purpose – that God might have a word with us.

We can also seek the Lord with others. There is little that is more powerful than what Luther called “the mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren”, what the recovery movement calls sponsors and “check in friends” or what modern writers call “accountability partners.” When God seems far away, it is very helpful to have a couple of other people in our lives that we can reconnect with, and in that reconnection, God draws near.

Congregational life centers on coming near to God, and God coming near to us, in Sunday morning Word and Sacrament worship. Nothing can replace Sunday morning worship…but today is Tuesday and Sunday seems a long way away. “Seeking the Lord while he is near” is too important to wait.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, we are often so distracted by so many things that we forget to come to you. We forget your presence. We forget the power of being quiet in your presence. So we call on you this day, that you might be our rock, our guide, our lamp and our life. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. See, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples. See, you shall call nations that you do not know, and nations that do not know you shall run to you, because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you. Isaiah 55:1-5

Good news in hard times. Reassurance that better times lie just ahead. This is the message of this portion of Isaiah. Although the people of Israel have suffered for a generation in the refugee camps of Babylon, the promise is certain that they will be heading home to rebuild their lives in Israel.

We long for good news in the midst of hard times. Looking with a wide lens at the way life really is, we realize that there is never a time that isn’t a hard time for someone.

The promise in this text – to eat and drink freely without money – is a daily reality for millions of people. Some have been cut off from their means of making a living by natural disasters, the earthquakes in Haiti and Chile, and others live at the mercy of invisible market forces that dominate their lives. If they had to pay for their food, they would go hungry.

One of my best friends has been unemployed for over a year. His job went away when the recession hit, he was one of dozens laid off by his company. Now he, along with about 11 million Americans, worries about losing his unemployment benefits. He worries about how he can pay his bills. Although he sends out resumes every day, he hasn’t had a single interview in his line of work. It is a grind that wears a person thin.

So it is that we long for good news in the midst of hard times.

Our natural inclination in such times is to hide, to isolate, to batten down the hatches of our lives and try and weather the storm. Too often, alone. But God wants better for us. So God invites us to listen closely, to lean into God’s promises. God reminds us that hard times will not separate us from God’s love and provision.

God will find a way.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, we hear your promises spoken long ago to the dispirited people of Israel. Speak your promises again to those who risk losing hope along with everything else they have lost. Draw near to those who fear not being able to support their families. Open the hearts of those responsible for bringing aid to those in need. Teach us the power of sharing, that we might discover anew that there is always enough for all. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’” Luke 13:31-35

Herod Antipas was the ruler of Galilee, the region where Jesus grew up. During his 40+ years in charge, Herod built two significant cities: Tiberias, his capital city on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and Sepphoris, farther inland, just over the hill from Nazareth. It is inconceivable, being just two or three miles from Nazareth, that Jesus and his friends didn’t spend time watching the construction of Sepphoris.

Herod, being the officially Rome-authorized local Boss, could largely do whatever he wanted to do. Mostly he wanted to collect taxes, both to fuel his own appetites and to appease his Roman overlords. And, on the side, if he felt the urge to divorce his wife and marry his brother Phillip’s wife, Herodias, just because he could, who could stop him?

The gospels tell us that John the Baptist spoke out against Herod, particularly because Herod stole his brother’s wife. For that, John the Baptist was thrown into prison, and later, on a whim, beheaded. John the Baptist was Jesus’ cousin.

Jesus knew who Herod was for a long time. He knew exactly what Herod could do.

But he wasn’t afraid of him.

“Go and tell that fox for me…”

Jesus knows Herod, but more importantly, Jesus knows himself. He knows what he is about, what his life is about, and for all of their pomp, power and position, the Herod’s of life will not win anything.

Interesting, isn’t it, that it’s is a group of Pharisees who come to warn Jesus that Herod? What do you think – do you think these are friendly Pharisees who are thinking about the health and well being of Jesus…or are they merely savvy Pharisees who have so accommodated themselves to the places of power that Herod allows them to have that they don’t want Jesus raising a ruckus and spoiling a good thing?

Yeah, that’s what I think too.

So it makes us wonder – to what degree have we sold out to the safety and security to our place in the political/economic/class world that we fail to miss the revolutionary voice of Jesus on behalf of the broken, the hungry, the least and the lost?

Let us pray: Gracious Lord, even in the face of opposition and threat, Jesus never wavered from his mission in life. All the way to the humiliation and the torture of the cross. Never let us settle for the kind of faith that promises an easy life for us, but help us strive for the kind of faith that works for a better life for all. Now and in the life to come. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Jesus went through one town and village after another, teaching as he made his way to Jerusalem. Someone asked him, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” He said to them, “Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able. When once the owner of the house has got up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, ‘Lord, open to us,’ then in reply he will say to you, ‘I do not know where you come from.’ Then you will begin to say, ‘We ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.’ But he will say, ‘I do not know where you come from; go away from me, all you evildoers!’ There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth when you see Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrown out. Then people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” Luke 13:22-29

What do we do with these verses? How do we hear these scary words from Jesus?

Maybe you don’t hear them as scary.

“For many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able…”

“I do not know where you come from.”

“Go away from me, all you evildoers!”

“There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth when you see Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrown out.”

Personally, I find them scary.

Now I could get all “Lutheran” on you and explain how we listen to the Bible – listening for the Law which guides our lives and convicts us of sin, and the Gospel, which comforts us and gives us life. I really do read the Bible that way…but sometimes I get a bit suspicious about it. I wonder if the result is simply taming the experience of really hearing the text. Rather than letting the Word do its work on us, we just run for the hills of our theology.

Today, let’s hear the text. Jesus says here that we can miss the boat. We can be left behind. He is speaking with the voice of a prophet. The best way to listen to such a voice? LISTEN to it and act accordingly.

The Christian faith isn’t a word game. It is a transformed way of seeing and doing life. Today Jesus reminds us that there is a narrow way of life that is hard. Hard sometimes to find and hard always to follow. It means playing “Follow the Leader”…and we don’t get to be the leader. It means making choices in the best interests of someone else. It means sharing what we have. It means speaking up for those with no voice. It means living lives of courage, compassion, humility and patience – all of those aspects of our character which don’t feel like they come naturally.

When it comes to the Christian faith, we do well not to get caught up in heady games of intellectual conjecture, not to fixate on the splinter in our neighbor’s eye, not to hide behind walls of “us” versus “them”. The narrow way is a costly way.

The narrow way is love.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, it is frightening to imagine looking you in the eye and then hearing that we missed the boat. It is sad to think that anyone might have that experience. So we pray that you guide down the narrow path of discipleship, and that you fill our hearts with compassion for those who are lost, like sheep without a shepherd, those blindly stumbling down broad paths that promise life but lead to death. And when we are the lost ones, touch us with your love, forgive us, and bring us home. In Jesus’ name. Amen.