Motivational speaking
Commentary
The tradition of "fire and brimstone" preaching runs deep. With his famous sermon "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," Jonathan Edwards was not the first nor the last of those who passionately develop graphic themes of judgment in preaching. Fear is a pretty strong motivating factor. I have often thought that discovering a relationship with God because of the fear of eternal damnation is the epitome of spiritual selfishness. No doubt folks turn to God in fearful circumstances all of the time. But one wonders about how much of the depth of the Gospel is missed when a preacher simply appeals to the fear factor. So much of the person and work of Christ seems to be missed when a preacher leans on another "turn or burn" interpretation of judgment or the end time. Fear of the rapture certainly makes for popular novels, and it still motivates searching souls, but preachers who rise weekly in the community of faith will have to work harder with biblical texts that speak of judgment and a theologically grounded approach to motivating the flock.
In a recent news story that told of the rescue of a group of miners trapped far beneath the earth in western Pennsylvania, a reporter asked the men what they had been talking about. One of younger miners mentioned that he had inquired about heaven. "Do you think I can still get to heaven if I haven't been baptized?" came the question. His colleague offered the necessary and appropriate comfort and assurance. While some may race to argue baptismal theology, the question itself has brought me some despair. Faced with the fear of what he must have known would be certain death, this miner found little solace in God. In fact, faced with such indescribable fear, his fear was only compounded by the thought of heaven and hell.
From the pages of scripture, the storied past of the people of God must provide more for the faithful to grasp. The gospel message of Jesus Christ offers comfort, assurance, and strength. In the darkness of this world where such inescapable fear can arise in a moment, those of us who preach ought to be proclaiming a grace-filled Word of God. Fear seems to rise to new levels all the time. The church must fight against the approach that makes God one more part of life and of death that is to be feared. A church member knew better when her daughter came home from visiting another congregation's vacation Bible school. For the first time in her young life she came home expressing some fear of God. "I find little support in the faith passed on to me for teaching my daughter to be scared of God."
We must draw upon the sacred texts to comfort, assure, and motivate disciples. While teaching about God's judgment and the coming of Christ at the end of time, we must also turn to the promise of the Light of Christ, a light that shines in the darkness. For the darkness shall never overcome it. When tackling those challenging texts that tell of God's judgment, God's acting in history, and the Second Coming of Christ, does the preacher rise to speak of threat or promise?
Judges 4:1-7
The lectionary assignment from the Book of Judges is a challenging one. The beginning of chapter 4 serves to introduce Deborah and Barak into the cycle of judges. The narrative of chapter 4 parallels the poetry of chapter 5. The first verse of chapter 4, which tells of the evil done by Israel, parallels the statements of 3:7 and 3:12, verses that serve as preludes to God's raising up, respectively, Othniel and Ehud. Our text verses of chapter 4 follow that pattern: Israel does evil in the sight of God. God sells them into the hands of a foreign king. God hears their cry for help. God raises up a deliverer to judge Israel and lead them in battle. Chapters 4 and 5 form a unit within that pattern.
The working relationship between Deborah and Barak seems to be unique in these verses of chapter 4. Instead of the judge and warrior in one figure, Deborah sits for the judging there under the palm tree, and Barak is sent by Deborah to be the leader of the troops. The story goes on to tell of Barak's insistence that Deborah accompany him to the mount of battle. In the midst of the battle, the opposition leader named Sisera flees. He eventually finds himself in the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber. She welcomes him, hides him, and offers him a drink. Jael then proceeds to kill Sisera with a tent peg to the head. As Barak arrives in hot pursuit of his enemy, Jael goes out to meet him and promptly invites Barak to come and see "the man you are seeking." As the text tells us, Sisera was lying dead in her tent with "the tent peg in his temple" (4:22).
The story is retold in poetic form in chapter 5, given the title of the Song of Deborah. Some describe the Song of Deborah as the oldest and most obscure part of the Hebrew bible. That must be true because it has very little to say about God! All of that information adds to the fascination of the account, but the assignment only covers those first seven verses of the fourth chapter!
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
The perceived negative connotation of Christ, like that of a thief in the night, is always a bit startling. The "day of the Lord" refers to the eschatological return of Christ. Here near the end of 1 Thessalonians, Paul addresses the questions that have arisen related to the resurrection of the dead (4:13-18) and the timing of the Lord's return (5:1-11). The threatening idea of a thief in the night combines with talk of "sudden destruction" that comes in the midst of peace and security. Lest there be any doubt about Paul's desire to stress both the unpredictability and the inevitability of Christ's return, Paul invokes the image of childbirth and the labor pains from which "there will be no escape" (v. 3). The nighttime thief, sudden destruction, and the pain of bearing a child add up to something of a triple threat for those caught unaware by that "day of the Lord."
However, it is the suddenness and not the fear that Paul emphasizes for those believers he calls the "children of light and children of the day" (v. 5). Those in darkness will be surprised by the thief. It would seem that those who are "not of the night or of darkness" (v. 5) are not motivated by fear of an intruder but by the desire to be ready. The call is to fight off sleep and stay sober. The call for wakefulness comes because the faithful "belong to the day" (v. 8). The clothing of those who belong to the day includes the "breastplate of faith and love" and the "helmet of the hope of salvation" (v. 8). This armor certainly isn't intended to ward off the intruder or thief who is Christ. The armor offers protection against falling asleep and the failure to be ready.
Ultimately, the motivation for wakefulness is the promise of "obtaining salvation" (v. 9) and living with Christ (v. 10). Any threat or fear is replaced by words of comfort. "God has destined us not for wrath" (v. 9) and Christ has died for us (the children of the light) "so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him" (v. 10). The promise of grace edges out the fear of God's wrath and Paul exhorts the community to respond with the positive, as in encouraging one another and building up each other (v. 11).
Within 1 Thessalonians, Paul's teaching about the return of Christ falls within the broader context of his pastoral relationship with the community of faith. Before tackling those questions related to the Second Coming, Paul traces something of the history of his ministry in their midst. His call for them to lead lives of holiness comes right after expressions of his love for them, his expression of prayer, and his offering thanksgiving to God for them. The more difficult matters of eschatology expressed in 5:1-11 arise in the midst of his nurture of the community. The final admonitions only contribute to the spirit of thanksgiving rising over that of fear. "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you" (5:16-18).
Matthew 25:14-30
Is it possible to find a fresh perspective on the parable of the talents? Exegetically speaking, the preacher may struggle to find something new. Congregations, too, may shut down a bit when the old war horse of a parable, along with that old biblical term of "the talent," comes out again for another year. A refresher course on the value of a talent may be helpful. References indicate that one talent was worth more than 15 years' wages for a laborer. Time may be spent on pondering the property owner's relationship to the slaves and the meaning of the journey that apparently took such a long time (v. 19). The phrase "well done, good and trustworthy servant" certainly echoes in the faith tradition (vv. 21, 23). And the passion of the master's response directed at the third servant can hardly be overstated (v. 26).
On the other hand, a fresh reading may simply come as the story is experienced in Matthew's Gospel. On these Sundays in November, the gospel readings cover all of Matthew 25. Congregation and pastor alike would do well not to miss the impact of moving through the chapter together in the shared preaching life. The parable of the talents follows that of the wise and foolish maidens and precedes Jesus' description of the last judgment, the sheep and the goats, and the least of these. On this Sunday, we are smack in the middle of two chapters in Matthew where Jesus, the great teacher, is lecturing about the Second Coming of Christ. The similar parable of the pounds in Luke's Gospel is told in the midst of the Lord's journey to Jerusalem and casts the unresourceful servant in the role of the enemies of Christ, while simply rewarding the creative servants with more power (Luke 19:11-27). In contrast, those servants who are praised by the Master in Matthew 25 are given the promise of more resources and are also invited to "enter into the joy of your master" (vv. 21, 23). The judgment that falls upon the "worthless slave" is that he is tossed into the "outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (v. 30) -- a clear biblical image of God's wrath.
Right there in the parable Jesus offers some words of explanation (v. 29). Any recounting of the parable that stops to ponder that angle of interpretation of Jesus ought to leave the listeners feeling a bit uncomfortable. The attempt to wipe away such tension may just reduce the power of the parable. The one talent is taken from the servant who had nothing and given to the one who earned five. Abundance describes those who have received and so lived resourcefully in response. Nothingness is what describes those who choose to live in fear of the master and the responsibility that comes with such resources. To understand it only in spiritual terms seems to deny the earthiness of the parable. To leave the apparent implications related to finances or capitalism unbalanced by a gospel word of justice seems to minimize that eschatological context of Matthew 25 and the vision of social justice that follows in the vision of judgment.
Application
The motivation for faithfulness comes from the promises of our life in Christ. The promise of the parable of the talents, that invitation to enter the joy of the master, outweighs the word of judgment two to one. Yes, stewardship sermons based on the talents are probably as old as the parable itself. But to treat the parable allegorically and interpret the talent as money, the tangible resources entrusted to us, runs the risk of reductionism. Parables are intended to evoke a response in the listener. Congregations have heard the time, talent, and money sermon over and over. Given the context of the Second Coming of Christ, the talents become a broader metaphor for the life of faith. To live this life of faith passively, as if waiting for eternity to arrive, is no different than burying one talent in the ground out of fear of the master. To invest in one's faith with all wisdom and commitment, to yearn for growth in faith, to look at faith as a dynamic part of life that can multiply through the length of the journey, that is to experience the joy of God's grace -- a response to the parable that runs into all of life. The promises of reward and blessing can be experienced in the abundance of life in the here and now. Listeners need not respond in fear or with a focus on God's wrath when the parable of the talents also provides a glimpse of the joy that comes when the faithful celebrate the abundance of God's grace.
In a similar way, the text from 1 Thessalonians sparks a call to living faith in a state of wakefulness. Perhaps it is easier to feel threatened. Do not fall asleep lest you miss Christ's arrival and experience only God's wrath. But the motivation in this call to the Christian life is not simply negative. Those who live in darkness are the ones who should fear. For the children of light the promise of salvation comes through Christ's death and resurrection. The promise is that we shall live in him, whether we are awake or asleep. So that call to be awake is an invitation to know that joy in Christ. The exhortation to not miss the sudden arrival of the Savior is matched by the exhortation to put on faith, love, and the hope of salvation now. The word spoken to the community is one of encouragement and building up rather than hunkering down and fanning the flames of fear.
Alternative Applications
1) Matthew 25:14-30. Interpretations of the parable often focus on the servants. The role of the master may provide some insight into the nature of God, the God we experience in Jesus Christ. The master entrusts his property to them. Bits and pieces seem to go to the various servants. Those few talents, however, must be representative of a greater portion of the resources. The financial language of settling accounts and the stifling language of master/slave certainly presents some challenges. But the master entrusted bits and pieces of the kingdom during the time period of a long journey. The community of faith is indeed entrusted with the care of the kingdom and the things of God in this part of salvation history. Or as spoken in the prayers of the communion liturgy, "That we might be the body of Christ for the world."
2) Judges 4:1-7. The introduction of Deborah as a female judge in Israel's history is certainly worthy of note. The necessity of her working relationship with Barak also testifies of God in the midst of the complexities of human relationships. Given the New Testament texts that talk of being ready for the Second Coming of Christ and using one's talents to magnify the resources of the master, one must conclude that this word from the Book of Judges affirms that God is at work in the here and now. Smack in the middle of Israel's history and in the time period of the judges that has more than its share of utterly human and morbid detail, God is at work. It may not always come in clear theophanies, but in and through the dynamics of human leadership and complex relationships. That involvement of God in history, an involvement that includes divine judgment, does not simply come at the end of time. The story of the faithfulness of God and the lack of faithfulness among God's people plays out in our midst. It is more than a story that waits for eternity to begin.
First Lesson Focus
Judges 4:1-7
Ever since Trinity Sunday, way back there in May, we have been following the history of God's mighty deeds on behalf of his people Israel. We started in Genesis and heard stories then from Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Joshua, all pointing to God's guidance and activity in Israel's history, as he moved and still moves toward his goal of saving his beloved creation. Now, in a very brief text, we come to the period of the Judges, after Israel's entrance into the Promised Land.
Judges functioned in Israel from about 1220 to 1020 B.C., up to the beginning of the reign of Saul, the first king of Israel. Israel was at that time a very loose federation of tribes, held together only by their covenant with the Lord, and by a yearly covenant renewal ceremony at a central shrine, located first at Shechem and then perhaps at Gilgal and finally Shiloh. At the central shrine, the Ark of the Covenant was located, and the conception was that the Lord dwelt in the midst of his people, invisibly enthroned above the cherubim on the ark. Priests from the various tribes took turns officiating before the ark.
The only other cooperation that the tribes engaged in was during times of war, and even then only a few of the tribes participated. Our text mentions only Naphtali and Zebulon (v. 6), although in Judges 5, Benjamin and Issachar also are named (Judges 5:14, 15). The Israelites in this period dwelt in and among the Canaanites; although Joshua 11:23 states that "Joshua took the whole land," that is a later Deuteronomic idealization.
The Book of Judges makes it very clear that Israel's entrance into Canaan was a time of testing. The question was: Would the Israelites remain true to their covenant with the Lord and worship him alone, or would they go after the fertility gods and goddesses, the baalim, of the Canaanites? Verse 1 of our text furnishes the answer: "The people of Israel again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord," that is, they turned to idolatry, not just once but many times. Indeed, the history during the time of the Judges has a recurring pattern:
1. The people go after other gods.
2. God sends an enemy army against them as punishment. Note that it is "the Lord" in verse 2 who sells the people into the hand of the Canaanite city-king Jabin for 20 years.
3. The people cry out to God to save them (v. 3).
4. The Lord raises up a charismatic figure called a "judge," who is given the Spirit of the Lord to lead the Israelites in battle and to defeat their attacker.
However, in this particular text, it is not the prophetess and judge Deborah who leads the Israelite troops but Barak, and in fact, it is finally not Barak who works the defeat of Sisera, Jabin's general, but a woman named Jael (v. 21). Deborah, the prophetess and judge at the time, merely celebrates Sisera's defeat in the long poem of Judges 5, which is one of the most ancient texts in the Old Testament.
As is clear from the accounts throughout the book, some of the judges exercised judicial functions, as does Deborah in our text (v. 5). But many of the most famous among them (e.g., Gideon) were military leaders, "judging" Israel only as that term is used in the Old Testament. "To judge" in the Hebrew can have the meaning "to save," "to restore one's life," and that is what the military judges did on behalf of Israel. (Note that is also the connotation when God "judges" his people. His judgment is for the purpose of salvation.)
But what are we to make of these ancient texts in this Book of Judges? The most important fact is their theological character, because they show two things. First, they witness to the incredible patience of the Lord God. Here we find a covenant people who repeatedly are unfaithful to their Lord, engaging in sinful idolatry. And yet, when they cry to the Lord for aid, he hears their cry and sends saviors to rescue them. Note that God says, "I will draw out Sisera" and "I will give him into your hand" in verse 7, despite all of Israel's undeserving. And is that not the way of our God with us also? Repeatedly we are unfaithful to him, giving our worship and allegiance to the transitory idols of this world. And yet, and yet, when we cry to the Lord, he comes to us and succors us and claims us once again for his own. Surely he is a God who is "merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (Exodus 34:6).
Second, these ancient tales in Judges testify to the power of our God. The Israelites do not win their battles against their attackers; God does. In his hands is the power to defeat any enemy. Indeed, we know from the resurrection of our Lord that God's is the power to defeat even the "last enemy," death (1 Corinthians 15:26). Is there any other response appropriate to such a Lord than our joyous gratitude and renewed commitment to worship only him all our days?
Lutheran Option -- Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
Throughout the Old and New Testaments we find the announcement that all human beings will undergo a final judgment before the bar of Almighty God. Jesus announces that judgment in Matthew 25:31-46, when he portrays all nations gathered before his glorious throne. Paul states that "we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he has done in the body" (2 Corinthians 2:10). In other words, what we do in this life is not a matter of indifference to the Lord. There is a final reckoning at the end of our history, a final separation between the sheep and the goats. In the Old Testament, that reckoning is called the "Day of the Lord," as we find it in the text before us.
Zephaniah portrays that coming Day in terms of God's battle against his foes. In verse 7, God prepares a sacrifice like those offered before Israel's battles (cf. 1 Samuel 13:9). In verse 14, God is the mighty Warrior, no longer silent, but crying aloud in a battle cry as he rises up against a sinful earth. And upon whom does God bring his terrible "day of wrath" (dies irae)? Upon all of those who are "thickening upon their lees" (v. 12). That is a figure of speech taken from winemaking. The "lees" are the sediments in wine, and if the fermented juice is left too long upon the lees, it becomes thick and syrupy and undrinkable. And the unfaithful are those who have become foul like that. They have said in their hearts that God does nothing, neither good nor ill, and so they can just ignore God. Trust in the Lord is a matter of total indifference to them, as it is to so many in our time and place -- as it is so often to many of us. God doesn't do anything. We can trust him or not as we wish and just go about our business, heedless of his will, indifferent to his working.
But God has a Day, say the scriptures, when he will manifest his lordship over all humanity, and nothing will save us from the anguish of that Day -- not our economy (the judgment begins in the commercial quarter in vv. 10-11), not our military might (v. 16), not our wealth (v. 18). Our sins are too much with us, aren't they, and you and I do not deserve God's love and mercy. We have no righteous plea before the bar of God.
Nothing will save us, unless -- unless -- there is one who has shared our life, who has entered into our sinful situation and yet remained without sin, one who has suffered and been tempted as we are and yet never lost his trust in the Father (cf. Hebrews 4:15). Then perhaps his righteousness can atone for our unrighteousness, and when God looks at us before his judgment seat, he sees our righteous Savior instead. You and I have no plea in the Day of the Lord except we put our lives and eternal future in the hands of Jesus Christ and trust with all our hearts that he is sufficient to save us. For he is, you know. He is.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 123
This short psalm is a communal lament, pleading as a nation for God's mercy, though in what particular circumstances we cannot tell. There are, however, two excellent images pertaining to the human/God relationship, both using the metaphor of "the eyes lifted up." The two are that of servants to a master and of a maid to her mistress. The singers of this psalm view themselves as asking for God's mercy from a similar position of subservience.
Have you noticed how God's mercy is often mistaken as coincidence? God's mercy frequently takes the form of problem-resolution or pain-amelioration or intervention, but to those without faith, God's action is labeled (mis-labeled, really) as coincidence.
My favorite example of God's mercy is one I witnessed firsthand. One of my first funerals was for a young man I'll call Eddie, who'd been shot to death as an innocent bystander in someone else's quarrel. He had grown up in our church and was just 21 and newly married.
The midsummer day of the funeral dawned bright and sunny. We held the service in the funeral home and then traveled in procession to the cemetery. There, the casket bearing Eddie's body was placed on the lowering rig that had been set up over the gaping grave. The group of us, perhaps 60 strong, gathered around it while I spoke the traditional words of committal.
Throughout the time at the cemetery, Randy, Eddie's younger brother, had been quietly weeping. But as I brought the graveside service to a close, his emotion overflowed, and he began sobbing loudly. Suddenly he jumped up and threw himself across his brother's coffin, clutching it tightly and crying, "No, no, no."
For a moment we all stood there, not quite sure what to do. Then his mother and father came to him and tried to get him to leave the casket. But Randy was lost in his grief and held on fiercely. Others of us tried to comfort the young man too, but none of us could break through.
Unnoticed, however, the sky had been changing. In a matter of moments it shifted from bright blue to dark gray, and without preamble, heavy rain suddenly began pelting us, a furious sudden summer storm. The drenching downpour accomplished what the rest of us could not. Randy, still shaking with emotion, finally loosened his grip on the casket and allowed himself to be led to a waiting car.
Some might say the sudden and unexpected rain was a fortunate coincidence. But given the circumstances, I suspect it was a gift of Divine mercy for a family that had already lost too much.
In a recent news story that told of the rescue of a group of miners trapped far beneath the earth in western Pennsylvania, a reporter asked the men what they had been talking about. One of younger miners mentioned that he had inquired about heaven. "Do you think I can still get to heaven if I haven't been baptized?" came the question. His colleague offered the necessary and appropriate comfort and assurance. While some may race to argue baptismal theology, the question itself has brought me some despair. Faced with the fear of what he must have known would be certain death, this miner found little solace in God. In fact, faced with such indescribable fear, his fear was only compounded by the thought of heaven and hell.
From the pages of scripture, the storied past of the people of God must provide more for the faithful to grasp. The gospel message of Jesus Christ offers comfort, assurance, and strength. In the darkness of this world where such inescapable fear can arise in a moment, those of us who preach ought to be proclaiming a grace-filled Word of God. Fear seems to rise to new levels all the time. The church must fight against the approach that makes God one more part of life and of death that is to be feared. A church member knew better when her daughter came home from visiting another congregation's vacation Bible school. For the first time in her young life she came home expressing some fear of God. "I find little support in the faith passed on to me for teaching my daughter to be scared of God."
We must draw upon the sacred texts to comfort, assure, and motivate disciples. While teaching about God's judgment and the coming of Christ at the end of time, we must also turn to the promise of the Light of Christ, a light that shines in the darkness. For the darkness shall never overcome it. When tackling those challenging texts that tell of God's judgment, God's acting in history, and the Second Coming of Christ, does the preacher rise to speak of threat or promise?
Judges 4:1-7
The lectionary assignment from the Book of Judges is a challenging one. The beginning of chapter 4 serves to introduce Deborah and Barak into the cycle of judges. The narrative of chapter 4 parallels the poetry of chapter 5. The first verse of chapter 4, which tells of the evil done by Israel, parallels the statements of 3:7 and 3:12, verses that serve as preludes to God's raising up, respectively, Othniel and Ehud. Our text verses of chapter 4 follow that pattern: Israel does evil in the sight of God. God sells them into the hands of a foreign king. God hears their cry for help. God raises up a deliverer to judge Israel and lead them in battle. Chapters 4 and 5 form a unit within that pattern.
The working relationship between Deborah and Barak seems to be unique in these verses of chapter 4. Instead of the judge and warrior in one figure, Deborah sits for the judging there under the palm tree, and Barak is sent by Deborah to be the leader of the troops. The story goes on to tell of Barak's insistence that Deborah accompany him to the mount of battle. In the midst of the battle, the opposition leader named Sisera flees. He eventually finds himself in the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber. She welcomes him, hides him, and offers him a drink. Jael then proceeds to kill Sisera with a tent peg to the head. As Barak arrives in hot pursuit of his enemy, Jael goes out to meet him and promptly invites Barak to come and see "the man you are seeking." As the text tells us, Sisera was lying dead in her tent with "the tent peg in his temple" (4:22).
The story is retold in poetic form in chapter 5, given the title of the Song of Deborah. Some describe the Song of Deborah as the oldest and most obscure part of the Hebrew bible. That must be true because it has very little to say about God! All of that information adds to the fascination of the account, but the assignment only covers those first seven verses of the fourth chapter!
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
The perceived negative connotation of Christ, like that of a thief in the night, is always a bit startling. The "day of the Lord" refers to the eschatological return of Christ. Here near the end of 1 Thessalonians, Paul addresses the questions that have arisen related to the resurrection of the dead (4:13-18) and the timing of the Lord's return (5:1-11). The threatening idea of a thief in the night combines with talk of "sudden destruction" that comes in the midst of peace and security. Lest there be any doubt about Paul's desire to stress both the unpredictability and the inevitability of Christ's return, Paul invokes the image of childbirth and the labor pains from which "there will be no escape" (v. 3). The nighttime thief, sudden destruction, and the pain of bearing a child add up to something of a triple threat for those caught unaware by that "day of the Lord."
However, it is the suddenness and not the fear that Paul emphasizes for those believers he calls the "children of light and children of the day" (v. 5). Those in darkness will be surprised by the thief. It would seem that those who are "not of the night or of darkness" (v. 5) are not motivated by fear of an intruder but by the desire to be ready. The call is to fight off sleep and stay sober. The call for wakefulness comes because the faithful "belong to the day" (v. 8). The clothing of those who belong to the day includes the "breastplate of faith and love" and the "helmet of the hope of salvation" (v. 8). This armor certainly isn't intended to ward off the intruder or thief who is Christ. The armor offers protection against falling asleep and the failure to be ready.
Ultimately, the motivation for wakefulness is the promise of "obtaining salvation" (v. 9) and living with Christ (v. 10). Any threat or fear is replaced by words of comfort. "God has destined us not for wrath" (v. 9) and Christ has died for us (the children of the light) "so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him" (v. 10). The promise of grace edges out the fear of God's wrath and Paul exhorts the community to respond with the positive, as in encouraging one another and building up each other (v. 11).
Within 1 Thessalonians, Paul's teaching about the return of Christ falls within the broader context of his pastoral relationship with the community of faith. Before tackling those questions related to the Second Coming, Paul traces something of the history of his ministry in their midst. His call for them to lead lives of holiness comes right after expressions of his love for them, his expression of prayer, and his offering thanksgiving to God for them. The more difficult matters of eschatology expressed in 5:1-11 arise in the midst of his nurture of the community. The final admonitions only contribute to the spirit of thanksgiving rising over that of fear. "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you" (5:16-18).
Matthew 25:14-30
Is it possible to find a fresh perspective on the parable of the talents? Exegetically speaking, the preacher may struggle to find something new. Congregations, too, may shut down a bit when the old war horse of a parable, along with that old biblical term of "the talent," comes out again for another year. A refresher course on the value of a talent may be helpful. References indicate that one talent was worth more than 15 years' wages for a laborer. Time may be spent on pondering the property owner's relationship to the slaves and the meaning of the journey that apparently took such a long time (v. 19). The phrase "well done, good and trustworthy servant" certainly echoes in the faith tradition (vv. 21, 23). And the passion of the master's response directed at the third servant can hardly be overstated (v. 26).
On the other hand, a fresh reading may simply come as the story is experienced in Matthew's Gospel. On these Sundays in November, the gospel readings cover all of Matthew 25. Congregation and pastor alike would do well not to miss the impact of moving through the chapter together in the shared preaching life. The parable of the talents follows that of the wise and foolish maidens and precedes Jesus' description of the last judgment, the sheep and the goats, and the least of these. On this Sunday, we are smack in the middle of two chapters in Matthew where Jesus, the great teacher, is lecturing about the Second Coming of Christ. The similar parable of the pounds in Luke's Gospel is told in the midst of the Lord's journey to Jerusalem and casts the unresourceful servant in the role of the enemies of Christ, while simply rewarding the creative servants with more power (Luke 19:11-27). In contrast, those servants who are praised by the Master in Matthew 25 are given the promise of more resources and are also invited to "enter into the joy of your master" (vv. 21, 23). The judgment that falls upon the "worthless slave" is that he is tossed into the "outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (v. 30) -- a clear biblical image of God's wrath.
Right there in the parable Jesus offers some words of explanation (v. 29). Any recounting of the parable that stops to ponder that angle of interpretation of Jesus ought to leave the listeners feeling a bit uncomfortable. The attempt to wipe away such tension may just reduce the power of the parable. The one talent is taken from the servant who had nothing and given to the one who earned five. Abundance describes those who have received and so lived resourcefully in response. Nothingness is what describes those who choose to live in fear of the master and the responsibility that comes with such resources. To understand it only in spiritual terms seems to deny the earthiness of the parable. To leave the apparent implications related to finances or capitalism unbalanced by a gospel word of justice seems to minimize that eschatological context of Matthew 25 and the vision of social justice that follows in the vision of judgment.
Application
The motivation for faithfulness comes from the promises of our life in Christ. The promise of the parable of the talents, that invitation to enter the joy of the master, outweighs the word of judgment two to one. Yes, stewardship sermons based on the talents are probably as old as the parable itself. But to treat the parable allegorically and interpret the talent as money, the tangible resources entrusted to us, runs the risk of reductionism. Parables are intended to evoke a response in the listener. Congregations have heard the time, talent, and money sermon over and over. Given the context of the Second Coming of Christ, the talents become a broader metaphor for the life of faith. To live this life of faith passively, as if waiting for eternity to arrive, is no different than burying one talent in the ground out of fear of the master. To invest in one's faith with all wisdom and commitment, to yearn for growth in faith, to look at faith as a dynamic part of life that can multiply through the length of the journey, that is to experience the joy of God's grace -- a response to the parable that runs into all of life. The promises of reward and blessing can be experienced in the abundance of life in the here and now. Listeners need not respond in fear or with a focus on God's wrath when the parable of the talents also provides a glimpse of the joy that comes when the faithful celebrate the abundance of God's grace.
In a similar way, the text from 1 Thessalonians sparks a call to living faith in a state of wakefulness. Perhaps it is easier to feel threatened. Do not fall asleep lest you miss Christ's arrival and experience only God's wrath. But the motivation in this call to the Christian life is not simply negative. Those who live in darkness are the ones who should fear. For the children of light the promise of salvation comes through Christ's death and resurrection. The promise is that we shall live in him, whether we are awake or asleep. So that call to be awake is an invitation to know that joy in Christ. The exhortation to not miss the sudden arrival of the Savior is matched by the exhortation to put on faith, love, and the hope of salvation now. The word spoken to the community is one of encouragement and building up rather than hunkering down and fanning the flames of fear.
Alternative Applications
1) Matthew 25:14-30. Interpretations of the parable often focus on the servants. The role of the master may provide some insight into the nature of God, the God we experience in Jesus Christ. The master entrusts his property to them. Bits and pieces seem to go to the various servants. Those few talents, however, must be representative of a greater portion of the resources. The financial language of settling accounts and the stifling language of master/slave certainly presents some challenges. But the master entrusted bits and pieces of the kingdom during the time period of a long journey. The community of faith is indeed entrusted with the care of the kingdom and the things of God in this part of salvation history. Or as spoken in the prayers of the communion liturgy, "That we might be the body of Christ for the world."
2) Judges 4:1-7. The introduction of Deborah as a female judge in Israel's history is certainly worthy of note. The necessity of her working relationship with Barak also testifies of God in the midst of the complexities of human relationships. Given the New Testament texts that talk of being ready for the Second Coming of Christ and using one's talents to magnify the resources of the master, one must conclude that this word from the Book of Judges affirms that God is at work in the here and now. Smack in the middle of Israel's history and in the time period of the judges that has more than its share of utterly human and morbid detail, God is at work. It may not always come in clear theophanies, but in and through the dynamics of human leadership and complex relationships. That involvement of God in history, an involvement that includes divine judgment, does not simply come at the end of time. The story of the faithfulness of God and the lack of faithfulness among God's people plays out in our midst. It is more than a story that waits for eternity to begin.
First Lesson Focus
Judges 4:1-7
Ever since Trinity Sunday, way back there in May, we have been following the history of God's mighty deeds on behalf of his people Israel. We started in Genesis and heard stories then from Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Joshua, all pointing to God's guidance and activity in Israel's history, as he moved and still moves toward his goal of saving his beloved creation. Now, in a very brief text, we come to the period of the Judges, after Israel's entrance into the Promised Land.
Judges functioned in Israel from about 1220 to 1020 B.C., up to the beginning of the reign of Saul, the first king of Israel. Israel was at that time a very loose federation of tribes, held together only by their covenant with the Lord, and by a yearly covenant renewal ceremony at a central shrine, located first at Shechem and then perhaps at Gilgal and finally Shiloh. At the central shrine, the Ark of the Covenant was located, and the conception was that the Lord dwelt in the midst of his people, invisibly enthroned above the cherubim on the ark. Priests from the various tribes took turns officiating before the ark.
The only other cooperation that the tribes engaged in was during times of war, and even then only a few of the tribes participated. Our text mentions only Naphtali and Zebulon (v. 6), although in Judges 5, Benjamin and Issachar also are named (Judges 5:14, 15). The Israelites in this period dwelt in and among the Canaanites; although Joshua 11:23 states that "Joshua took the whole land," that is a later Deuteronomic idealization.
The Book of Judges makes it very clear that Israel's entrance into Canaan was a time of testing. The question was: Would the Israelites remain true to their covenant with the Lord and worship him alone, or would they go after the fertility gods and goddesses, the baalim, of the Canaanites? Verse 1 of our text furnishes the answer: "The people of Israel again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord," that is, they turned to idolatry, not just once but many times. Indeed, the history during the time of the Judges has a recurring pattern:
1. The people go after other gods.
2. God sends an enemy army against them as punishment. Note that it is "the Lord" in verse 2 who sells the people into the hand of the Canaanite city-king Jabin for 20 years.
3. The people cry out to God to save them (v. 3).
4. The Lord raises up a charismatic figure called a "judge," who is given the Spirit of the Lord to lead the Israelites in battle and to defeat their attacker.
However, in this particular text, it is not the prophetess and judge Deborah who leads the Israelite troops but Barak, and in fact, it is finally not Barak who works the defeat of Sisera, Jabin's general, but a woman named Jael (v. 21). Deborah, the prophetess and judge at the time, merely celebrates Sisera's defeat in the long poem of Judges 5, which is one of the most ancient texts in the Old Testament.
As is clear from the accounts throughout the book, some of the judges exercised judicial functions, as does Deborah in our text (v. 5). But many of the most famous among them (e.g., Gideon) were military leaders, "judging" Israel only as that term is used in the Old Testament. "To judge" in the Hebrew can have the meaning "to save," "to restore one's life," and that is what the military judges did on behalf of Israel. (Note that is also the connotation when God "judges" his people. His judgment is for the purpose of salvation.)
But what are we to make of these ancient texts in this Book of Judges? The most important fact is their theological character, because they show two things. First, they witness to the incredible patience of the Lord God. Here we find a covenant people who repeatedly are unfaithful to their Lord, engaging in sinful idolatry. And yet, when they cry to the Lord for aid, he hears their cry and sends saviors to rescue them. Note that God says, "I will draw out Sisera" and "I will give him into your hand" in verse 7, despite all of Israel's undeserving. And is that not the way of our God with us also? Repeatedly we are unfaithful to him, giving our worship and allegiance to the transitory idols of this world. And yet, and yet, when we cry to the Lord, he comes to us and succors us and claims us once again for his own. Surely he is a God who is "merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (Exodus 34:6).
Second, these ancient tales in Judges testify to the power of our God. The Israelites do not win their battles against their attackers; God does. In his hands is the power to defeat any enemy. Indeed, we know from the resurrection of our Lord that God's is the power to defeat even the "last enemy," death (1 Corinthians 15:26). Is there any other response appropriate to such a Lord than our joyous gratitude and renewed commitment to worship only him all our days?
Lutheran Option -- Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
Throughout the Old and New Testaments we find the announcement that all human beings will undergo a final judgment before the bar of Almighty God. Jesus announces that judgment in Matthew 25:31-46, when he portrays all nations gathered before his glorious throne. Paul states that "we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he has done in the body" (2 Corinthians 2:10). In other words, what we do in this life is not a matter of indifference to the Lord. There is a final reckoning at the end of our history, a final separation between the sheep and the goats. In the Old Testament, that reckoning is called the "Day of the Lord," as we find it in the text before us.
Zephaniah portrays that coming Day in terms of God's battle against his foes. In verse 7, God prepares a sacrifice like those offered before Israel's battles (cf. 1 Samuel 13:9). In verse 14, God is the mighty Warrior, no longer silent, but crying aloud in a battle cry as he rises up against a sinful earth. And upon whom does God bring his terrible "day of wrath" (dies irae)? Upon all of those who are "thickening upon their lees" (v. 12). That is a figure of speech taken from winemaking. The "lees" are the sediments in wine, and if the fermented juice is left too long upon the lees, it becomes thick and syrupy and undrinkable. And the unfaithful are those who have become foul like that. They have said in their hearts that God does nothing, neither good nor ill, and so they can just ignore God. Trust in the Lord is a matter of total indifference to them, as it is to so many in our time and place -- as it is so often to many of us. God doesn't do anything. We can trust him or not as we wish and just go about our business, heedless of his will, indifferent to his working.
But God has a Day, say the scriptures, when he will manifest his lordship over all humanity, and nothing will save us from the anguish of that Day -- not our economy (the judgment begins in the commercial quarter in vv. 10-11), not our military might (v. 16), not our wealth (v. 18). Our sins are too much with us, aren't they, and you and I do not deserve God's love and mercy. We have no righteous plea before the bar of God.
Nothing will save us, unless -- unless -- there is one who has shared our life, who has entered into our sinful situation and yet remained without sin, one who has suffered and been tempted as we are and yet never lost his trust in the Father (cf. Hebrews 4:15). Then perhaps his righteousness can atone for our unrighteousness, and when God looks at us before his judgment seat, he sees our righteous Savior instead. You and I have no plea in the Day of the Lord except we put our lives and eternal future in the hands of Jesus Christ and trust with all our hearts that he is sufficient to save us. For he is, you know. He is.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 123
This short psalm is a communal lament, pleading as a nation for God's mercy, though in what particular circumstances we cannot tell. There are, however, two excellent images pertaining to the human/God relationship, both using the metaphor of "the eyes lifted up." The two are that of servants to a master and of a maid to her mistress. The singers of this psalm view themselves as asking for God's mercy from a similar position of subservience.
Have you noticed how God's mercy is often mistaken as coincidence? God's mercy frequently takes the form of problem-resolution or pain-amelioration or intervention, but to those without faith, God's action is labeled (mis-labeled, really) as coincidence.
My favorite example of God's mercy is one I witnessed firsthand. One of my first funerals was for a young man I'll call Eddie, who'd been shot to death as an innocent bystander in someone else's quarrel. He had grown up in our church and was just 21 and newly married.
The midsummer day of the funeral dawned bright and sunny. We held the service in the funeral home and then traveled in procession to the cemetery. There, the casket bearing Eddie's body was placed on the lowering rig that had been set up over the gaping grave. The group of us, perhaps 60 strong, gathered around it while I spoke the traditional words of committal.
Throughout the time at the cemetery, Randy, Eddie's younger brother, had been quietly weeping. But as I brought the graveside service to a close, his emotion overflowed, and he began sobbing loudly. Suddenly he jumped up and threw himself across his brother's coffin, clutching it tightly and crying, "No, no, no."
For a moment we all stood there, not quite sure what to do. Then his mother and father came to him and tried to get him to leave the casket. But Randy was lost in his grief and held on fiercely. Others of us tried to comfort the young man too, but none of us could break through.
Unnoticed, however, the sky had been changing. In a matter of moments it shifted from bright blue to dark gray, and without preamble, heavy rain suddenly began pelting us, a furious sudden summer storm. The drenching downpour accomplished what the rest of us could not. Randy, still shaking with emotion, finally loosened his grip on the casket and allowed himself to be led to a waiting car.
Some might say the sudden and unexpected rain was a fortunate coincidence. But given the circumstances, I suspect it was a gift of Divine mercy for a family that had already lost too much.
