You guys look so great today! Let’s take a selfie! Thanks, now I want to make sure that I have your consent on how I use this image. This is going to sound weird, but please close your eyes. If anyone does not want me to post this image on my sermon blog, please raise your hand. Ok, great! Open your eyes. [Sadly, my selfie skills are not the best. Even though they all gave consent, it wasn’t worth posting! Turns out that moderation is also a way to control your narrative, as noted below.]
I’m sure we all have mixed opinions about selfies, but this is the way that Sandra Maria Van Opstal, opened her sermon at this year’s Triennium, our Tri-annual youth conference. Today begins a three-part series based on the scriptures and themes of that conference.
Today we begin with “Here’s my heart.” We also began with a selfie. That’s because our scriptures speak of self-offering. They speak of controlling the narrative. They speak of being vulnerable and real and true before God.
You might argue that selfies are anything but those things, but the reason they matter is because they are a way that people today are attempting to control the narrative of their lives. Image has always been everything. The internet has not changed that. It’s only made it more painfully obvious. Just as families have always passed on the identities of poverty and wealth, of industry and futility, children and youth today are raised to create their own kind of “brand” that lets friends, family, prospective colleges, employers, and other organizations know who they are. Parents and grandparents have even become part of that brand creation, whether they know it or not.
Into this world, the word of the Lord comes to us as it did to Isaiah’s world so long ago. He spoke in a time of kings that led God’s people astray and made allegiances with other kings and nations as though God was not their source of strength and identity. God speaks to the nation about their worship and says, “This is fake news. The real news – the good news – is found when you care for the vulnerable.”
Through the Apostle Paul, we hear that this good news includes us, even though we have not always been faithful. We learn that, just as we no longer see Jesus as just a man, we can come to know ourselves as beloved by God. Not only that but we must let others know of the opportunity to be made new before God again and again and again!
Then, in our reading from Luke, we have the example of Jesus and Zaccheaus. Sandra Maria Van Opstal told us that she believed that this was a story about someone who was desperate to be seen in a new way. Zacchaeus climbed that tree in a robe. I’m sure people were complaining about that. Maybe they didn’t want him there at all. He was a tax collector. He was a tool of the state that oppressed them. He was someone that no one wanted to see as a person.
Yet, Jesus called him by name. Maybe others had been calling him by name already. We don’t know. We just know that Jesus called him, and he came down. There are a couple of interesting things about the language in this text. The first is one that no scholar really cares about, but that is the fact that in the original manuscript it is unclear whether it is Zacchaeus or Jesus who is short. We just know that Zacchaeus climbed the tree to see Jesus because he was short of stature.
It may not matter to you, but it matters to a kid named Zach who grew up singing in church about a “wee little man” named Zacchaeus! It matters because it tells me that my identity doesn’t have to be in the one in the tree. I don’t mean to say that I need to see God in my image. What I mean to say is that I need to see myself in God’s image.
I think that mattered to Zacchaeus, too. That brings us to the next debatable textual issue. Zacchaeus tells Jesus, “Look, here and now, if I’ve defrauded anyone I repay them double, and I give half of my money to the poor!” Now, that may sound like an admonition of guilt, but the thing is that the verbs he uses are active indicative verb forms. It’s quite possible that he is not saying what he will do. He is saying what he does. This is his common practice!
Here’s why that matters. Jesus makes no mention of repentance. He simply calls him down, invites himself to dinner, and proclaims that this one, too, is a son of Abraham. Maybe there was a conversion moment. Maybe being in the presence of Jesus made him spontaneously charitable. What truly matters is that Jesus named him. Jesus claimed him, and then Jesus restored him in the eyes of his community. This one, too, is a child of Abraham.
So, who was converted? Was it Zacchaeus? Was it Jesus, in his recognition that Zacchaeus was short in esteem but great in stature? Was it the crowd? Perhaps it was all of the above, but it was because of two things: Zacchaeus's vulnerability and Jesus’s recognition of Zacchaeus’s faith.
Zacchaeus was so desperate to be loved and received by the one that was offering grace and mercy and restoration, that he put himself in a place of vulnerability, and so this story is not only about restoration. It is also about the passage it takes to get there. Sure grace and mercy are not earned, but they do require our desire and they do command our response.
Sandra Maria Van Opstal spoke about this to 5,000 youth (including some international delegates as well) who had traveled the nation to come together for the same purpose, and she told them the story of a young woman whose family was from Honduras. We’ll call her Elaina. They had come to the United States and were making good lives for themselves, but there was always a worry of harassment and questioning their legal status and their basic rights as citizens. Elaina was more fair-skinned, and there came a time when her mom said to her, “You can pass. You don’t have to worry. People think you are white. They don’t need to know that you are Honduran.” The daughter said, “No, mama! I need to be honest with who I am. I need people to know me for who I am. I need to be seen for who I am.”
She told this story as a way to remind us that, just as I was called a “wee little man,” there are children making passages every day that may come into our churches. When we sing, “red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in our sight,” do we communicate that same love to these children, or will they get a mixed message of identity?
The point of telling these 5,000 youth this truth was not to radicalize or politicize. It was to say that we have a job to do. Our job is to see people as created in the image of God. Our job is to ask questions about faith and practice that challenge our notions of privilege and status.
You know, the one thing that I have not heard about the immigrants that are in detention in private prisons across our nation is how many of them are Christians. It’s good and right that there are Christians who see the humanitarian needs of the current crisis – and we’ll talk more about that in a few weeks – but for now, we must wrestle with what it means to say, “Here’s my heart, O God.”
For Zacchaeus it meant to be called by name, to come, to confess his love for those less fortunate, and to be restored into the community. One more thing about the language of this text. The name “Zacchaeus” means “pure and clean.” I had always been told that it meant “God has remembered,” and it has root words that certainly connect with words for God and memory, but it can also be translated as “pure and clean, holy, of God.”
The good news for today, the real news, is that Jesus takes those of us who are short in stature – the disreputable ones – and calls us pure and clean because we are children of the promise of Abraham. The only question is, what will we do about it.
Will we be the ones who see others as children of God, too? Will we be the ones who become vulnerable to care for the vulnerable? Will we be the ones to say, ‘Christ has come to make all things new” in our work, in our play, in our schools, and homes?
I believe we can, and I believe we will because I have seen it so many times before. Sure we can talk about Meals on Wheels, Wesley Campus Ministry, or flood recovery. In fact, after worship today, during lunch we’re going to hear more about the opportunities that are unique to our area through PSL Flood recovery. You may think that all is well since the floods of 2016, but the poor in our midst are still recovering and we are still a part of that struggle. We can talk about these things and more, but what really matters is the why. What really matters is our willingness to see others as they are and to become vulnerable in order to lift up those who already are vulnerable.
As we continue to celebrate what God has in store for us as a congregation, I hope that you will remember that you are created in the image of God. I hope you will hear God’s desire to reform and refine your image into something more than a brand. You and I and all of God’s creation were formed to love and be loved, to become vulnerable when love requires it, and to let others know that we see them and value them just as God does.
If we can do that – when we do that – I believe we will hear the voice of Jesus saying to us, “This, too, is a child of the promise of Abraham!” Amen!
I’m sure we all have mixed opinions about selfies, but this is the way that Sandra Maria Van Opstal, opened her sermon at this year’s Triennium, our Tri-annual youth conference. Today begins a three-part series based on the scriptures and themes of that conference.
Today we begin with “Here’s my heart.” We also began with a selfie. That’s because our scriptures speak of self-offering. They speak of controlling the narrative. They speak of being vulnerable and real and true before God.
You might argue that selfies are anything but those things, but the reason they matter is because they are a way that people today are attempting to control the narrative of their lives. Image has always been everything. The internet has not changed that. It’s only made it more painfully obvious. Just as families have always passed on the identities of poverty and wealth, of industry and futility, children and youth today are raised to create their own kind of “brand” that lets friends, family, prospective colleges, employers, and other organizations know who they are. Parents and grandparents have even become part of that brand creation, whether they know it or not.
Into this world, the word of the Lord comes to us as it did to Isaiah’s world so long ago. He spoke in a time of kings that led God’s people astray and made allegiances with other kings and nations as though God was not their source of strength and identity. God speaks to the nation about their worship and says, “This is fake news. The real news – the good news – is found when you care for the vulnerable.”
Through the Apostle Paul, we hear that this good news includes us, even though we have not always been faithful. We learn that, just as we no longer see Jesus as just a man, we can come to know ourselves as beloved by God. Not only that but we must let others know of the opportunity to be made new before God again and again and again!
Then, in our reading from Luke, we have the example of Jesus and Zaccheaus. Sandra Maria Van Opstal told us that she believed that this was a story about someone who was desperate to be seen in a new way. Zacchaeus climbed that tree in a robe. I’m sure people were complaining about that. Maybe they didn’t want him there at all. He was a tax collector. He was a tool of the state that oppressed them. He was someone that no one wanted to see as a person.
Yet, Jesus called him by name. Maybe others had been calling him by name already. We don’t know. We just know that Jesus called him, and he came down. There are a couple of interesting things about the language in this text. The first is one that no scholar really cares about, but that is the fact that in the original manuscript it is unclear whether it is Zacchaeus or Jesus who is short. We just know that Zacchaeus climbed the tree to see Jesus because he was short of stature.
It may not matter to you, but it matters to a kid named Zach who grew up singing in church about a “wee little man” named Zacchaeus! It matters because it tells me that my identity doesn’t have to be in the one in the tree. I don’t mean to say that I need to see God in my image. What I mean to say is that I need to see myself in God’s image.
I think that mattered to Zacchaeus, too. That brings us to the next debatable textual issue. Zacchaeus tells Jesus, “Look, here and now, if I’ve defrauded anyone I repay them double, and I give half of my money to the poor!” Now, that may sound like an admonition of guilt, but the thing is that the verbs he uses are active indicative verb forms. It’s quite possible that he is not saying what he will do. He is saying what he does. This is his common practice!
Here’s why that matters. Jesus makes no mention of repentance. He simply calls him down, invites himself to dinner, and proclaims that this one, too, is a son of Abraham. Maybe there was a conversion moment. Maybe being in the presence of Jesus made him spontaneously charitable. What truly matters is that Jesus named him. Jesus claimed him, and then Jesus restored him in the eyes of his community. This one, too, is a child of Abraham.
So, who was converted? Was it Zacchaeus? Was it Jesus, in his recognition that Zacchaeus was short in esteem but great in stature? Was it the crowd? Perhaps it was all of the above, but it was because of two things: Zacchaeus's vulnerability and Jesus’s recognition of Zacchaeus’s faith.
Zacchaeus was so desperate to be loved and received by the one that was offering grace and mercy and restoration, that he put himself in a place of vulnerability, and so this story is not only about restoration. It is also about the passage it takes to get there. Sure grace and mercy are not earned, but they do require our desire and they do command our response.
Sandra Maria Van Opstal spoke about this to 5,000 youth (including some international delegates as well) who had traveled the nation to come together for the same purpose, and she told them the story of a young woman whose family was from Honduras. We’ll call her Elaina. They had come to the United States and were making good lives for themselves, but there was always a worry of harassment and questioning their legal status and their basic rights as citizens. Elaina was more fair-skinned, and there came a time when her mom said to her, “You can pass. You don’t have to worry. People think you are white. They don’t need to know that you are Honduran.” The daughter said, “No, mama! I need to be honest with who I am. I need people to know me for who I am. I need to be seen for who I am.”
She told this story as a way to remind us that, just as I was called a “wee little man,” there are children making passages every day that may come into our churches. When we sing, “red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in our sight,” do we communicate that same love to these children, or will they get a mixed message of identity?
The point of telling these 5,000 youth this truth was not to radicalize or politicize. It was to say that we have a job to do. Our job is to see people as created in the image of God. Our job is to ask questions about faith and practice that challenge our notions of privilege and status.
You know, the one thing that I have not heard about the immigrants that are in detention in private prisons across our nation is how many of them are Christians. It’s good and right that there are Christians who see the humanitarian needs of the current crisis – and we’ll talk more about that in a few weeks – but for now, we must wrestle with what it means to say, “Here’s my heart, O God.”
For Zacchaeus it meant to be called by name, to come, to confess his love for those less fortunate, and to be restored into the community. One more thing about the language of this text. The name “Zacchaeus” means “pure and clean.” I had always been told that it meant “God has remembered,” and it has root words that certainly connect with words for God and memory, but it can also be translated as “pure and clean, holy, of God.”
The good news for today, the real news, is that Jesus takes those of us who are short in stature – the disreputable ones – and calls us pure and clean because we are children of the promise of Abraham. The only question is, what will we do about it.
Will we be the ones who see others as children of God, too? Will we be the ones who become vulnerable to care for the vulnerable? Will we be the ones to say, ‘Christ has come to make all things new” in our work, in our play, in our schools, and homes?
I believe we can, and I believe we will because I have seen it so many times before. Sure we can talk about Meals on Wheels, Wesley Campus Ministry, or flood recovery. In fact, after worship today, during lunch we’re going to hear more about the opportunities that are unique to our area through PSL Flood recovery. You may think that all is well since the floods of 2016, but the poor in our midst are still recovering and we are still a part of that struggle. We can talk about these things and more, but what really matters is the why. What really matters is our willingness to see others as they are and to become vulnerable in order to lift up those who already are vulnerable.
As we continue to celebrate what God has in store for us as a congregation, I hope that you will remember that you are created in the image of God. I hope you will hear God’s desire to reform and refine your image into something more than a brand. You and I and all of God’s creation were formed to love and be loved, to become vulnerable when love requires it, and to let others know that we see them and value them just as God does.
If we can do that – when we do that – I believe we will hear the voice of Jesus saying to us, “This, too, is a child of the promise of Abraham!” Amen!
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