Some of the most ancient passages in the Bible are the most fruitful and profound when we spend time with them. Back in the early 90s, Genesis was the theme of a PBS series with Bill Moyers in which he simply let different people debate their reactions to the material. Whatever you make of Jordan Peterson, his psychological Genesis podcasts have a million subscribers. The Guardian ran an 8 part series on Genesis in 2011, with Anglican theologian Jane Williams leading readers through topics like the dubious morality of the characters, the darkness and complexity of stories some of us carelessly dismiss as cutesy Sunday School material, and the damage that has been done when these texts were used as if they sanctioned oppression and patriarchy. There’s a lot in there. A lot.
 
Today’s passage from Genesis focuses on a mysterious encounter that Jacob has in the middle of the night. As darkness falls, Jacob is coming from one in a long series of manipulative schemes designed to put himself on top in encounters with family members, and he is on the way to another manipulative scheme designed to put himself on top in an encounter with a family member. Along the way he has done some noble and kind things, and he has turned to God and then away again; in other words, he has been as bad and good as any of us, and rather more calculating than most of us.

“Hallelujah! I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, in the congregation.”
 
Merci, gracias, arigato, efharisto, yadow, a basket of fruit, a bouquet of flowers, a hug. These are words and gestures to express gratefulness to others. Learning to say thank you is often one of the first phrases mastered in a new language. It is a part of good manners, of course, but it really is more than that. Expressing gratefulness is a part of being in a relationship; it is a way of connecting the giver and receiver. It makes a circle of sorts, giving and receiving, receiving and giving.

Brother David Steindl-Rast in his book, Gratefulness the Heart of Prayer, says this about the relationship of giver and receiver. “The interdependence of gratefulness is truly mutual. The receiver of the gift depends on the giver, obviously so. But the circle of gratefulness is incomplete until the giver of the gift becomes the receiver: a receiver of thanks. When we give thanks we give something greater than the gift we received, whatever it was. The greatest gift one can give is thanksgiving…In giving thanks we give ourselves. One who says thank you to another really says, ‘we belong together’. Giver and thanks-giver belong together.”

Who do you belong to? I don’t mean by that who is your spouse or your parent, or with whom do you feel a sense of connection. Those ties are important, but not what I’m talking about. Nor do I mean belong in the sense that people say they belong to a particular gym or alumni association. I mean, who do you belong to? Whose property are you? Who owns your life, your very being?
 
I’m sure there are more than two, but there are at least two for profit businesses in Champaign-Urbana that have positioned themselves as selling opportunities for spiritual growth. Neither of the two I’m aware of is led by someone with any actual formal training in theology, and neither of them has the safeguard of being accountable to a disciplined school of thought like Buddhism or Christianity or Judaism. They just select free-floating activities and themes to market to potential customers. It’s hard for me not to be worried about the possibility of serious spiritual malpractice happening. But you know, the most visible of these for-profit places already has more Facebook followers than most of the houses of worship in Champaign-Urbana.
 
But honestly, that’s not surprising, because they frame the spiritual life as something that it isn’t, but that is much easier for a contemporary American to understand. Places like these, that let people select their preferred "spiritual" activities divorced from any context, just feel right in a way a parish no longer does. Because if we know how to be anything in 2019, it’s consumers. We know how to be in control of what we choose to own. We know how to graze through offerings and select the thing that seems most attractive, enjoy it for a short time, and then go on to the next option that catches our fancy.

Just a quick word as I begin this morning. As you may have read in the bulletin, due to a clergy scheduling constraint I am preaching today on last week’s Second Reading, Philemon, which is what you just heard. You do not have the lesson in front of you right now so hear this verse and as I speak try to keep it in mind.
 
Paul said, “I pray that the sharing of your faith may become effective when you perceive all the good that we may do for Christ.”

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
 
Have you ever wondered how others might know that someone is a Christian without asking? Perhaps in an earlier time a clue might be the wearing of a cross or keeping a Bible on one’s desk or coffee table. Even with those types of physical clues, might someone have an idea because of the behavior of another? To make it personal, how might others know that you are a Christian? Is there a difference in how you act or how you speak that would let others know you are a believer in Jesus Christ?

I will share one brief personal example. It has to do with driving. I admit to you that I can get very annoyed with other drivers, especially when they have done something I believe to be unsafe. And, a time or two, I admit, I have let the other driver know my displeasure, either by something I have yelled or gestured, or honked. Now on a day when I was in collar I realized that I could not, or should not, or would not respond to poor driving in a way that might reflect poorly on being a follower of Christ. There is a responsibility that comes with wearing the collar and with conscious thought, when in collar, my actions and words changed. After that realization I decided I would remember that I wore an invisible collar all the time. My actions and words reflected poorly on all Christians if I did not watch myself. Others notice what we do, what we say and how we say it. Our sharing of our faith begins with how we treat others. 

Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers
and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.
Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.
So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Christianity demands that those who wish to follow Jesus get acquainted with extremes.
Not necessarily comfortable, but at least acquainted. The Gospel is after all one where
the light shines in the darkness and the first are the last; where Christ is dead and
descends into hell but also where Christ is risen and sits at the right hand of the Father
in heaven; where those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their
life for the sake of Christ will save it. Like I said, extremes.
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And this morning’s passage from Luke is no exception. Here we find three extreme and
uncompromising conditions, set by Christ himself, for anyone who would wish to
become one of his disciples. They deal with three loves: the love of family, the love of
life, and the love of possessions. But apparently, these three loves are utterly
incompatible with the way of Jesus and must be renounced entirely. The bar has been
set; the line drawn. Who among us would ever presume to cross it? Who among us
could dare consider themselves to be disciples of Christ?

Jesus got himself in trouble for a lot of things.  Claiming to be God was probably the biggest. The religious leaders of his day thought that was the most blasphemous thing they had ever heard, for a man whose birthplace and family they knew to say things like "Before Abraham was, I am." Jesus also gave offense by breaking official religious laws, like the one we heard about last week, when he healed a woman on the Sabbath day. We can see why those things upset people, but for us it takes a little more imagination to grasp why one other thing Jesus did was so offensive. This is clearly something that created a huge stir, and that the Gospel writers felt they needed to record many stories about to document that yes, Jesus actually did do this and he had a good reason for it.
 
That other offensive thing that got Jesus in so much trouble was, in the words of the Bible, eating with tax collectors and sinners -- violating the society's customs about meals. The fancy name for it is "table fellowship," and the Gospels make clear over and over again that Jesus broke all the rules of table fellowship in order to help people experience what the Kingdom is like. Table fellowship basically means: who eats with whom? Who has supper at one table together? This question was immensely important in Jesus' day, and he used it to make immensely important points.
 
So let's look at this meal story we have today. Jesus has been invited over by a key Pharisee, and Luke gives a sense of the atmosphere by noting that everyone was “watching him closely.” Where our reading begins, Jesus is saying that instead of grabbing places of honor, guests at meals ought to take the least desirable seats, and then maybe the host will move them up. That’s simply a paraphrase of the 2 verses from the Old Testament book of Proverbs that we just heard (world's shortest lectionary reading!), so maybe the Pharisees breathe a little easier and think at least tonight perhaps Jesus is going to be non-controversial and just quote the Bible.

And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long
years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
​
Jesus heals sick people throughout the New Testament -- it’s one of his most recorded
acts of ministry. Today, it’s a woman who has suffered from a crippled back for
eighteen years, but wherever Jesus goes, he is often to be found healing the sick, making
the lame to walk, restoring sight to the blind, and casting out demons. It is a central part
of his mission on earth, and the fact that Jesus spends so much of his time and effort
healing the sick reveals to us the kind of problem that sickness represents. And as
Christians, it is therefore our task to understand sickness as Scripture understands it, as
Jesus understood it; to identify it as the right kind of problem. Only then will we
understand the kind of solution that Jesus’ power of healing is.

There are several places in the Gospels, the four books of the Bible that recount the life and ministry of Jesus, where Jesus tells us in his own words why he came. Every Sunday in the Creed, we stand up and confess that the eternal Son of God took flesh in one human being, Jesus Christ, “for us and for our salvation,” and say that “he came down from heaven.” We bow at those words, in reverence before this central mystery of the Christian faith: God himself came to us as one of us.  
 
So why did he come? If you had to answer that question, what would you say? Two of Jesus’ answers are in today’s Gospel reading, but I thought it might be interesting to look them all up. And it did turn out to be interesting, but for a reason very different than what I expected. So let’s hear from him. (As I read this list, by the way, it’ll have some examples of Jesus’ habit of talking about himself in the third person as the Son of Man, which is both an ordinary Hebrew way of calling himself a human being, and a quotation from the Old Testament that cleverly functions as a claim that he is the predicted Savior of the world.) Here is a list of the most direct statements Jesus makes in Scripture addressing specifically why he came.
 
I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.  (Luke 5:32)
Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. (Matt 5:17)
The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. (Luke 19:10)
I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind. (John 9:39)
The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many. (Matt 20:28)
For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. (John 18:37)
I came down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me. (John 6:38)
I came that they may have life and have it more abundantly. (John 10:10)
And finally from today’s Gospel reading: I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!... Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!