Reformation Sunday Sermon

My sermon for Reformation Sunday. I dressed up as a ghost since it was also Hallowe'en and had chains wrapped around me (they were heavy, too!), and also carried a Bible that I had wrapped up in chains. The sermon was in three parts.

The Ghost of Reformation Past
After the second reading (Romans 3.19-28)
I am the Ghost of Reformation Past. I have come to you on this spooky Halloween Day and this spirited Reformation Sunday to bring you a message.

Are any of you familiar Charles Dickens' holiday classic, A Christmas Carol, in which three ghosts — the ghost of Christmas past, the ghost of Christmas present, and the ghost of Christmas future — visit a man named Scrooge on Christmas eve? As this is Hallowe'en, three ghosts have been chosen to visit this church on Reformation Sunday, I am the first, the Ghost of Reformation Past. After I share my message, the Ghost of Reformation Present will appear, and finally, the Ghost of Reformation Future will arrive.

As the ghost of Reformation past, I am here to tell you of a time when the church was in chains to sin, when the church kept the gospel good news bound by chains. A monk by the name of Martin Luther nailed ninety-five theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany, on October 31, 1517. Brother Luther's own reformation of heart took place after reading this verse of Romans, these words of Paul,

“But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, 22 the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ1 for all who believe. For there is no distinction, 23 since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; 24 they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement1 by his blood, effective through faith.”
And again, “ 28For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.”

Brother Luther understood these words to mean that a person cannot do anything, do you hear that, a person cannot do anything to get into heaven; rather, it is through God's faith in us, through God's love for us, and through God's steadfast grace that we are forgiven and inherit eternal life.

By this discovery, Brother Luther, in effect, unchained the gospel from the idea of works' righteousness, which, in other words, was the belief that you had to do good things, good works, to get into heaven. Those who do good get eternal life in heaven, those who don't do good, don't. This verse of Paul proves this idea of works' righteousness to be false! Paul says that we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. That means everybody from Moses to Peter to Mother Teresa – none of them could get into heaven on their own, all of them have sinned and fallen short. All of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, too, but God loves us and forgives us none-the-less — an all you need is love, love, et al., mother love, love too deep for words – and all of God's children, us included, are justified, forgiven of sin, inheritors of eternal life, through God's gift of grace.

I leave you now with this message of Reformation past: Brother Luther inspired a reformation in the church that continues to the present, where the Gospel is freed from chains and God's word is available to all. (Here I took the chains off the Bible and laid them at the foot of the altar.) Look for the Ghost of Reformation Present to come and speak to you of how this reformation continues here and now.

Please Rise for the Reading of the Gospel.


The Ghost of Reformation Present
After the Gospel reading, John 8.31-36

I am the ghost of reformation present. I come bearing news of the present reformation of this church of God. As you know, the church is at a crossroads. Several churches have chosen to leave the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America over the social statement and decisions made in August year of our Lord two thousand nine. Mainline protestant churches – from Episcopalians to Pentecostals, Lutherans to Baptists – throughout the country are losing members at a rapid rate. Where the state of the economy has meant the the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America has had to lay off over sixty people this past month, where many individual churches throughout the country are facing budget deficits.

It seems like a dangerous time to be the church. Now more than ever we feel the chains of sin that Jesus spoke about in this passage. We are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves. It says that right in the confession every Sunday.

Jesus says that we are slaves. And those listening to Jesus said, “We are descendants of Abraham, we were never slaves to anyone!” How quick did they forget that yes, they were slaves – they were slaves in Egypt, they were in exile in Babylon, and currently they were under foreign exile. How quickly did they forget they were slaves. How quickly do we forget!

But Jesus says, “whoever commits a sin is a slave to sin.” Each of us sin. Each of us have sinned. From cutting off someone on the way to church to arguments I've had with my parents, I have sinned. I am a slave to sin, wrapped in these chains of sin. As are we all slaves to sin.

But! We are here together, and together we heard Jesus say that if the Son has made you free, then you are truly free. And I am here to tell you that the Son has truly made you free. (Here I took off the chains around me and laid them at the foot of the altar.) At this font, at this altar, at the foot of this cross, we are reminded by Christ we are forgiven all of our sins. Do you hear that? We are forgiven all of our sins! Cutting off someone on the way to church? Already forgiven. Arguments with family? Forgiven. No matter what sin you have committed, the Son has already made you free by his death on the cross. Do you hear that? You are forgiven! And you did not have to do anything! Every little sin, every big sin, everything you have ever done wrong? It's forgotten. You are forgiven.

Our baptisms reform our hearts and minds, it frees us from sin so that we may go into the world to tell the story and live the story. Thank God almighty, we are free at last. So the question is, what do we do with this freedom?

The church has a choice, we have a choice – to fall back in fear or to boldly follow the spirit as she continues to move us, continues to reform us. We are at a crossroads, for sure, but even here, even now, even as we sit in our pews, arms crossed, teeth clenched, the Holy Spirit is at work. The spirit is moving, yes, the spirit is stirring up within us. As I depart, I pave the way for the last ghost, the Ghost of Reformation Future. Where are we being called as a church? What is the future of the reformation? Now that we have been set free, where are we being called to go? Look for the Ghost of Reformation Future to come and speak to you of how this reformation draws us into the future.


The Ghost of Reformation Future
Following the Children's sermon

I am the Ghost of Reformation Future, of Reformations yet to come. I have come to bring tidings of the future of this church, the future of the reformation.

From St. Paul to Martin Luther, from Martin Luther to Martin Luther King, Jr., many of our greatest prophets have had visions of what the Kingdom of God will look like when fully realized among us. When once and for all the chains of slavery and sin will be laid to rest. A time where there will be no more crying, no more pain, no more sorrow, where all the walls that separate and divide us will be torn apart stone by stone. This vision of the future is certainly not realized right now, as the world is full of pain and sorrow, walls of poverty and class separate and divide us. The chains of slavery and sin still bind us.

However, that does not mean that we cannot be a part of the reformation here and now. As the ghost of the reformation present said, the Holy Spirit is calling all of us, each and everyone of us. We are called to be a part of this reformation, working towards a better, brighter tomorrow. We have been set free from sin so that we can serve others, Martin Luther said. So we can go into the world and bring about, with God's guidance, a reformation here and now.

We are all of us children of the Reformation, made clean in these waters, filled with this bread and wine, and reminded that we are set free by the word of God. Child of the Reformation, stirred up with the power of the Holy Spirit, we leave this place fed and forgiven, set free from the bondage of sin. No matter what, we remain in the love and care of God. We are forgiven! You hear that? You are forgiven! We are free! We are children of God! The question I leave you with my brothers and sisters of the reformation, the question is, you are set free! Now what?

Amen.

19 Pentecost Sermon

My sermon from 19 Pentecost (3 October). This is one of the shortest sermons I preached, but I like it just the same. :) It is essentially about theodicy, that is, why is there evil in the world if God is all knowing, all powerful, and all good? The text I used was the old testament lesson, Habakkuk 1.1-4, 2.1-4.

Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2.1-4

The oracle that the prophet Habakkuk saw.
O LORD, how long shall I cry for help,
and you will not listen? Or cry to you "Violence!"
and you will not save?
Why do you make me see wrongdoing
and look at trouble?
Destruction and violence are before me;
strife and contention arise.
So the law becomes slack
and justice never prevails.
The wicked surround the righteous--
therefore judgment comes forth perverted.

I will stand at my watchpost,
and station myself on the rampart;
I will keep watch to see what he will say to me,
and what he will answer concerning my complaint.
Then the LORD answered me and said:
Write the vision;
make it plain on tablets,
so that a runner may read it.
For there is still a vision for the appointed time;
it speaks of the end, and does not lie.
If it seems to tarry,
wait for it;
it will surely come, it will not delay.
Look at the proud!
Their spirit is not right in them,
but the righteous live by their faith.


Sermon
Several decades ago, the New York Botanical Garden acquired a dried up specimen of Ibervillea Sonorae. This beautiful plant is native to northwestern Mexico. Due to the arid climate, the plants are able to store up water for the summer, and have remarkable survival abilities. So the New York Botanical Garden put this dried up specimen of Ibervillea Sonorae

"on display in a glass case. 'For seven years,' says Joseph Wood Krutch, 'without soil or water, simply lying in the case, it put forth a few anticipatory shoots and then, when no rainy season arrived, dried up again, hoping for better luck next year.' That's what I call flying in the teeth of it all.
"(It's hard to understand why no one at the New York Botanical Garden had the grace to splash a glass of water on the thing. Then they could say on their display case label, “This is a live plant.” But by the eighth year what they had was a dead plant, which is precisely what it had looked like all along. The sight of it, reinforced by the label 'Dead Ibervillea sonorae,' would have been most melancholy to visitors to the botanical garden. I supposed they just threw it away.)" (Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, p. 165).

To all the passerbys that little shoot seemed dried up and dead, but underneath the stem life was still slowly moving along, loud as hope waiting patiently for water that was not likely to come. Think on that for a second. This dreid up plant was able to produce life for seven years without soil or water, waiting for rain that was not going to come. That's a leap of faith, instead of just giving up in the midst of arid and dry climate, in an enclosed case of glass, the plant waited patiently, loud as hope.

Centuries earlier, we have the prophet Habakkuk in a similar situation—the branch of Jesse had dried up, Jerusalem was on the verge of collapse due to corruption and abuse of power, armies were encroaching on all sides. He was surrounded by prophets saying that it was the will of God that Jerusalem would fall, that God was set to punish his people.

To Habakkuk, the world seemed out of control, and Habakkuk wanted answers. So we hear his cry to God, “How long, Adonai, must I cry for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you 'violence' but you do not save!” Seeing the injustice of the world around him, the poor who were getting poorer by the minute as Jerusalem's economy was on collapse, the rich who kept their wealth to themselves without sharing, the illegal aliens in Jerusalem who were being treated like dirt instead of being treated as people, the religious and government rulers who were squandering money from those in need. And Habakkuk cries to God, saying, “Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife and conflict abounds.” Habakkuk says, “For this reason the law lacks power, and justice is never carried out. Indeed, the wicked intimidate the innocent. For this reason justice is distorted.”

And God seems silent. Where is hope when God seems silent and the world is going down the toilet? Where is hope when you are like that dried up branch in a glass case, a spectacle for others as you wither without water? Where is hope?

I believe one of the most profound questions in the Bible, and still even to this day is it asked, it was asked by the psalmists, it was asked by the disciples of Jesus, and I have heard it asked so many times today, hope fading in people's eyes as they ask “Why does God let bad things happen in this world?” Indeed, Habakkuk is asking this very question of God. How long, Adonai, must we cry for help, but you do not listen? How can God allow the wicked to oppress the righteous?

Today may seem in some ways not that different from Habakkuk's time. It still seems to me that the wicked prosper while the righteous decline. Look at the homeless men and women, girls and boys on the streets. The economy which is allowing the rich to get richer while the poor continue to get poorer, barely able to make ends meet if they even are able to. Where diseases like HIV/AIDS, and cancer take so many lives. Where loved ones pass away. Where we are involved in an ecological crises that is affecting the poorest nations at drastic rates while the richer nations continue to use and abuse the earth. Where natural disasters like hurricanes and tropical storms can take lives as well as damage property. It's scary to think about sometimes, when the storms of life seem to take control.

Sometimes, we call out, along with the prophets, “Where are you God?” When we pray the prayers of the church later on for world peace, for health, we pray these same things every week. O God why are you silent?

Yet, even in the midst of this silence, though, is there hope? Let us return to our prophet and friend, Habakkuk. After he cries to God in anger and sorrow, this is the interesting thing. Even though the world seems to say otherwise, Habakkuk refuses to believe that God will remain silent. Refuses to believe that God will remain silent. No, because this is the God that led the people out of Egypt, this is the God that made a promise to King David that God would bring about a savior out of his heirs, this is the God that promised to Sarah and Abraham that their descendants would be as numerous as the stars. How can a God like that, a God of grace and love, remain silent? So Habakkuk says, “I will stand at my watch post and station myself on the rampart; I will keep watch to see what God will say to me, and what God will answer concerning my complaint.” You see, even though God appears silent now, there is an expectation that God will not remain silent. There is a readiness on the prophet's part to hear and wait, to be patient and wait for the God of promise to speak and break the silence.

Just like that dried up plant in the New York Botanical Gardens waiting patiently year after year for rain, Habakkuk is ready and prepared to wait for God to speak here and now.

And guess what? God answers Habakkuk! The God of ages breaks the silence and says “Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it.” God is telling him to create the first billboard in human history! God's word should be so large that the runner in hurridness can see it and recognize it as the word of God! And what is the word of God for us today? The righteous will live by faith. Let's say that together. The righteous will live by faith. Righteous does not mean morally righteous, like doing right or wrong. No! Righteous here means being relationally righteous, being in a relationship with God. That the righteous will live by God's faith and steadfast love.

Unlike the curators of the New York Botanical Garden, God sends rain (as you could tell this past Thursday). When we put forth our anticipatory shoots, dried up as the world may be, God will send rain. God will speak, God will act, God will break the silence. Because God's word is so large that a billboard cannot contain it. Because God's word dwells in each of us. That's right! God is never silent because God is speaking through us. That's what God told Habakkuk 3,000 years ago and that's what God is speaking to us today.

My favorite part of this short book is the end. Habakkuk says “Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vines; though the produce of the olive fails, and the fields yield no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in Adonai, I will exult in the God of my salvation. Adonai, my God, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.”

Even when there is no visible sign of blessing, not even a hint or evidence of God, but in spite of that, in spite of, God is faithful. And we have cause to rejoice. And to write that on the largest billboards, to proclaim it in the street.

Because you know what? God was never silent! All along God was speaking. You see, God is never silent as long as we give voice on behalf of those in need. The mothering love of God is never hidden as long as we show that love to the strangers among us, to those who need it most. Let us fashion a billboard with our actions in love, to tell all the world that God is here, God is love, and God is speaking. We are the ones God chooses to act in the world, to love the world, to bring good news and hope to the world. God acts and speaks through us. God you are our strength. I think that gives us cause to rejoice. Can I get an Amen?

Sermon--Year C, Pentecost 4

Before I get into the sermon, let me just explain something about the context. The congregation this is meant to be preached at is one that I have a relatively good relationship with, otherwise I would not preach such a political message. This is a once-farming community, but now in a suburban context.

Luke 8:26-39 

26 Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. 27 As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. 28 When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, "What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me" -- 29 for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) 30 Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" He said, "Legion"; for many demons had entered him. 31 They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. 32 Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. 33 Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.

34 When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. 35 Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. 36 Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. 37 Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. 38 The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, 39 "Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you." So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.


Year C: Pentecost 4

In several states in the mid-Atlantic region, the quest for coal has reached new heights, quite literally, as the purple mountains majesty of Appalachia are de-crowned in a process called Mountain Top Removal Mining, in which entire tops of mountains are blasted away in order to find seams of coal buried in the rocks contained hidden away in the heart of the mountains. First, this process requires that the top of the mountain is deforested, as if the mountain, once green and full of life, is shaved and balded, naked. Then, the tops of mountains are blasted off, and the rock and earth and soil are dumped into a valley, which often blocks streams and destroys even more forest.

After the few strips of coal are removed from where the hallowed massive mighty living mountain once stood, now nothing more than a large hollowed, naked, exposed piece of rock, the space is reclaimed with the intention of slowly reforesting the land. But the fact remains, the mighty mountain is gone forever.

The environmental impact of Mountain Top Removal Mining is, needless to say, overwhelmingly negative. Entire ecosystems are destroyed, streams are blocked, and water is contaminated with high levels of minerals, which are not only poisonous to fish and wildlife, but also poisonous to the many people who get their water supply from these now polluted streams. Not to mention that these mountains, a part of the natural beauty of this world, these mountains which so many grew up with, are now gone forever, lost to all future generations. The United States Environmental Protection Agency estimates that over 1.4 million square miles--or, about the size of the state of Delaware--of Appalachian mountaintops and forests will have been cleared by this process over the past thirty years.

You may be asking, why hasn’t this been stopped? Why isn’t there legislation to protect these mountains? Well, the issue is complicated. Mountain Top Removal Mining provides income for many people in a place where frankly, there are not many other options for employment available, especially during this time of economic turmoil. The United States receives over fifty-percent of its electricity from coal, and so the demand is high. To stop Mountain Top Removal Mining would be to force hundreds, perhaps thousands of families, out of work and, perhaps, even change the life styles of hundreds of thousands of families who rely on coal power for their electricity.

Is the health of the environment, not to mention the health of the few hundred families who have unsafe drinking water worth the stability of the hundreds of thousands of people who receive electricity from coal and the thousands of families who receive their sole income from this process? Are the few who are currently being largely ignored by the greater community worth enough to make change which will adversely effect a larger population?

In the gospel today, Jesus is faced with a similar decision. Imagine, if you will, that you are one of the swineherds, observing this interaction between the demoniac and this person you’ve never met before, someone called Jesus. Sure, you have heard about Jesus before, and his healings in Galilee, but as a gentile living in a gentile nation, Jesus’ life and ministry seem to you to be more of a Jewish phenomenon and nothing of any importance to you. Jesus is just one of the many self-proclaimed prophets who wonders through Judea, and you could hardly be concerned with him. What makes this one so special? you might ask.

So here you are with several other swineherds, tending your large herd of pigs. And you see this man step out of his boat with a few of the followers. That’s a little odd, because they seem to have made it across the sea of Galilee during the storm last night without capsizing, but here they are. Almost immediately after stepping out of the boat, you hear the all-too-familiar loud shrieks of the demoniac from behind you. You turn around just to see him run past--naked, dirty, covered in bruises and scratches. He runs past you and up to Jesus and bows down at his feet, grabbing onto Jesus’ robes and pleading with him, falling down on the ground. You can hear bits of the conversation from where you stand. You share a glance with some of the other swineherds, a glance of disapproval.

You see, you know this man, this demoniac. He would become so violent towards himself and others that he would need to be kept in chains and guarded so as not to hurt anyone. This man was not just a noisy nuisance, or an unpleasant sight as he ran around naked, but this man was full of evil, almost out of control as he would bring harm to other people and himself. You debate going down there to grab this man and take him away before he acts out against Jesus or one of his followers, but before you can shout any warnings down to Jesus you realize that it seems Jesus already has the situation under control.

You watch as the conversation unfolds, the demoniac asking for healing, for release from his demons. And Jesus agrees, attempting to cast these demons out. But then the man shouts “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me!” Jesus looks at the man with kindness and simply asks “What is your name?” The man replies “Legion!” as if he were full of many of these demons. And then the man begged Jesus not to send them into the abyss, into the darkness, and instead to enter into the pigs.

You look around at the other swineherds to see if they are getting any of this. They smile that knowing smile, like this is some sort of comedy. And it is--this crazy, demon possessed man first of all having a conversation with Jesus, and now asking Jesus to cast the demons into the pigs, as if Jesus had some sort of power to do that. I mean, you’ve heard about deviled ham, but this?

But you hear from your vantage point Jesus agree, and before you know it, you hear your pigs start squealing as if something had scared them. You and your peers try in vain to corral them, but the pigs begin to stampede, rushing towards the end of the cliff. And before they could be stopped, your entire herd of pigs leap off the edge of the cliff and into the foaming sea below. At first you stand in disbelief, peering over the edge of the cliff and into the waters where your large herd of swine just drowned. And then, you turn around, angry at this Jesus. He just killed your entire herd of swine! This was your income, your job. How will you be able to put food on the table for your family? How will you be able pay the tax collectors? Not just that, but these pigs were your own, you raised them, you loved them, and sat long nights with them, protecting them. And now they are gone. Your anger quickly turns to fear as you think about this power Jesus has, a power to kill an entire herd of swine.

You and your companions run back to the city to tell everyone about the horror that had just taken place. People don’t believe you at first, but soon, a large crowd appears and follows you back to the area by the sea where it had all taken place. And there they see it--Jesus and his disciples, and the man--the demoniac--now clothed and in his right mind, and having a casual conversation with Jesus.

The crowd from the city is just as afraid as you are, and so they begin to shout at Jesus, and you join. “Leave here! We don’t want you! You disturb the peace! You are helping these freeloaders like the demoniac! We work hard for our money and our community and our well-being, and you would help this evil man at our expense?”

Jesus does not argue but heads back towards the boat, his disciples follow. Before he leaves, the demoniac once more throws himself at Jesus’ feet. You can’t hear what is said over the loud shouts of the crowd, but Jesus speaks to him, embraces him, and then leaves. The man gets up, turns around, and races towards you shouting “Jesus has healed me! Look at all God has done for me!”

Jesus had to make the choice: is this one man’s spiritual and physical health worth more than the economic well-being of the farmers and the community? Jesus chooses here the reconciliation of one at the expense of many.

This seems to be a central theme of Luke’s telling of the gospel story. Over and over again we see Jesus heal people who were cast out of the community, bringing them back into full relationship with the larger community even if it comes at the community’s expense. His many parables are full of stories where those who have must give up what they have in order to stand in solidarity with those who have not. Right from the beginning of this gospel we hear the song of Mary, proclaiming before Jesus is even born the type of things he will do on behalf of his Parent, the Lord God. Yes, Jesus’ message and ministry is the kind that rips the mighty down from their thrones in exchange for the rising up of the humble, feeds the hungry and leaves the fed no part.

Leave no doubt about it: Jesus’ ministry is a radical one, one that brings both good and bad news. The good news is whenever you are cast out from society, the power of the gospel will bring you back in no matter what the cost is to those who cast you out. The bad news is that this community comes at the expense of us who have much and are unwilling to share.

In contemporary times we are faced with these difficult decisions. Health care reform, the ELCA Human Sexuality Statements and decisions, and Mountain Top Removal Mining are just a few examples. We have entire communities at stake on either side of the issue. And, the majority’s lifestyle is often what is at stake. The haves not wanting to give up their hold to let the have nots in. Our elected officials in the church and the country make difficult decisions all the time, having often to weigh the pros and cons on both sides. I am not going to pretend I know what is best for this country or this church.

But, what I will say is that the gospel consistently shows that Jesus will help those in need in spite of those who already have everything and more, and often at their expense. The gospel should rattle us in our current lifestyles and force us to look outside of ourselves. For instance, is it not our responsibility to find sustainable employment for the miners that is not poisonous to the environment and local communities? Is that not our call as community? As family?

The gospel calls us to true reconciliation and community. And when we discriminate or bar people from this table, from this fellowship, from this man who is God, the gospel will work around us, and yes, in spite of us.

No matter who you are, or where you are in life’s journey, this gospel also shows us the good news. Jesus goes out of his way to help us when we are excluded by the community. Just as Jesus not only showed compassion to the man who was kicked out of the community for being possessed, but also to the very demons who possessed him, Jesus shows compassion to the oppressed, the excluded, the last, lonely, lifeless, lost. Whether you are excluded because of your race, gender, sexual orientation, creed, social status, culture, or even because you are struggling with your own inner demons, whatever forms they may come in, the gospel brings you into full community.

And yes, evil exists in this world. That is why we are faced with these hard decisions about health care and environmental problems, and that same evil rejoices, rejoices when we bar people from community based on sexual orientation, gender, age, race, health care or not, democrat or republican, rich or poor, social status, sick or in perfect health, even those possessed by the worst of demons. But Jesus stands up against that evil, the one man against the legion, against the many, almost as if it were an epic show off. And Jesus shows us that that fighting that evil and doing the right thing almost always comes at a cost. It cost the swineherds their flock, the community their food and commerce. It often costs us today our comfortable “hard-earned” lifestyles. And it ultimately cost Jesus his life. Amen.