Thursday, March 6, 2014

Let It Go -- March 6


Lenten discipline of the day:
Let it go.



Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 
Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. 
Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.

(Ps. 51:10-11)

Last night at our Ash Wednesday service, as Psalm 51 was read and during a long period of silence after, the congregation was invited to prayerfully reflect on this question:  What stumbling block, burden, situation, relationship, or habit is keeping us from being in a deeper relationship with God?  Each member of the congregation was given a piece of tracing paper and invited to write down what it is that needs to be released from their life -- or what they need to receive from God   -- to renew a right spirit within them.

Before receiving ashes, each member of the congregation set fire to the slip of paper using a candle set in a deep bowl.  As the paper burned down to ash, they were invited to pray:

“God, forgive in me what has gone wrong, 
repair in me what is wasted, 
reveal in me what is you.

What is holding you back from being the child of God that God created you to be?  What is holding you back from a deeper relationship with God and your neighbor?  Envision that piece of your life burning away for good, allowing the Holy Spirit space to renew and repair a new and joyful spirit!

And if you need inspiration, here's a silly and joyful reminder of how good it feels to finally let go and be the person God intends us to be:





With thanks to !

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Ash Wednesday, March 5







Lenten discipline of the day: 

Pray for your enemies.

Sometimes, enemies are not strangers, but people close enough to get under your skin.  You know the kind of people I'm talking about:   A demanding in-law. A rebellious child.  A co-worker whose politics you simply cannot stand.  An obnoxious neighbor who's always ready to pick a fight over hedge heights or property lines.  An old friend whose success in life you envy so badly you can taste it. Enemies do not have to be those people who threaten us or mean to do us harm. Very often, our enemies are not even aware that they dredge up toxic and harmful feelings in us.  When Jesus told us to love and pray for our enemies, it was for our own sake, I think.  

The psalm for today, Ash Wednesday, is Psalm 51:1-17.  The verse I've been turning over and over in my mind is verse 10:  "Create in  me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me."  Perhaps a "clean heart" and a "right spirit" begins with praying for those for whom it is hardest to pray, however close or distant that enemy may be.  

Maybe Jesus also knew that more often than not my own worst enemy is -- gulp -- me.  So I will spend some time in prayer over this Lenten season to receive the wisdom to cut myself some slack every now and then.  

-- Pastor Susan

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

The Lenten Season at Emsworth U.P. Begins Tonight

Fat (Shrove) Tuesday

Tonight, we'll be enjoying pancakes and bacon here at Emsworth U.P. Church with our friends from Community Presbyterian Church of Ben Avon.  Stop by at 6 p.m. and enjoy the fun as we celebrate the last night before Lent begins tomorrow on Ash Wednesday.





Ash Wednesday

Tomorrow, we will gather for an Ash Wednesday Service including imposition of ashes and the Lord's Supper at 11 a.m. and  7 p.m. at Community Presbyterian Church of Ben Avon.







Monday, March 3, 2014

Transfiguration Sunday Year A, March 2, 2014

All Downhill From Here




Matthew 17:1-9

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. 3Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 5While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” 6When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” 8And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. 9As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”


Once when David was a baby, I decided to replace my very old, scratched up pair of glasses.  On the day I came home after picking the new glasses, David was just waking up from a nap so I went up to his room to fetch him.  He was just sort of gurgling when I walked into his room, but when I lifted him up from his crib, he burst into tears.  I figured he was wet and hungry, so I changed his diaper.  The child was still pitifully sobbing.  So I settled in to nurse him, but he wouldn’t stop crying long enough to eat.  And the crying wasn’t like an ordinary “Feed me now!” kind of crying.  It was more like “Mommy, can’t you see I’m having a nervous breakdown?” kind of crying. 

My mother’s intuition finally kicked in.  I put the screaming child back in his crib, went downstairs, got my purse and fished out my old pair of glasses.  I put them on, went back upstairs, and when I picked him up – viola! – the crying stopped as if by magic.  Obviously, it was my new glasses that upset poor Baby David.  He didn’t recognize me as his mom.  At least not at first, particularly just after waking up from a nap.  But over the next couple of days, he was able to handle the transition from Mommy wearing beaten up specs to Mommy in the fabulously stylish horn rims. 

Getting used to something unfamiliar or new is sometimes not so easy, right?  Change can scare us silly.  Even when are old enough to handle something as innocuous as a change in parental eyewear, there are other changes that can throw us for a loop.  We can freak out even when facing a change that seems like a good idea.  A new job.  A new baby.  A new house.  Even good change brings a certain level of anxiety and sleepless nights.  And when changes happen that are beyond our control or cause disruptions we did not anticipate, we become even more anxious and sleepless.  While we may not wail like a baby, we are all, to a certain extent, creatures of habit.  Change is hard.  Change is scary.  Even the most adventurous and open-minded among us like a certain level of certainty and predictability in our daily lives.

Well, if you were looking for familiarity and reassurance, you really picked the wrong day to come to church.  You are in the wrong place this morning if you’re looking for the same old, same old, at least according to Matthew.  Today is the Sunday between Epiphany and Lent, a Sunday when we turn away from the twinkling lights of Christmas and turn toward a different kind of light that will lead us into the deep, dark spaces of Lent.  A light that will lead us into 40 days and nights in the wilderness and we all know what that means.  In scripture, wilderness is a place of change and challenge.  Nobody emerges from God’s wilderness the same person they were when they went in.  That’s a promise you may hear as good news or bad news, I suppose, depending upon how ready you are to change.  

I remember a having a conversation with a friend who was thinking about whether or not his 13 year old daughter should go on a mission trip to a place in Philadelphia I had visited on different mission trip a few years earlier.  I went on and on, telling him all about the trip, how deeply meaningful it was for the kids and for me.  I remember saying to my friend that the trip would be transformative for his daughter and bring about amazing changes in his daughter’s perspective and faith.  And I remember him saying something I never would have predicted.  He said, “But what if I don’t want her to change?  What if I think she’s perfect just as she is right now?” I didn’t know what to say. 

Nobody can make you go into the wilderness, you know.  It is entirely possible to stay right where you are.  If that’s you, you can stop paying attention right now.  Transfiguration Sunday is just not your day. 

But if you’ve been feeling the need to get serious about your life as a disciple and enter more deeply into a life of faithfulness, this is your moment, right here on this mountain.  The Holy Spirit has invited you on this journey to the top of Mt. Tabor with Jesus, Peter, James and John. 

The disciples have already received a pretty significant hint about what they’re getting into.  Right before they go up the mountain, Jesus gives the disciples fair warning that things are about to get real.  There is the sense that there will a deepening intensity to this discipleship business they have undertaken.  Jesus tells the disciples that they are turning toward Jerusalem and things are going to look really awful for a time.  Beyond awful.  The elders and chief priests and scribes are going to make him suffer and then they are going to kill him.  But Jesus also tells the disciples that three days after humanity has done its worst, he will be raised from the dead and that most of them will live to see it.

Which, of course, sounds to us like awfully good news to us living on the other side of Easter morning, but this news absolutely blows the disciples’ minds. They are so rattled by this information that they can scarcely hear what Jesus is saying.  In fact, Peter and the others absolutely recoil at this idea of taking up a cross and losing their lives.  Well, wouldn’t you?  What kind of horrible vision is that?  All this time, the disciples imagined Jesus as the One who had come to save them, to save Israel, to make everything better.  Peter finally brings himself to blurt out what they’ve all been thinking – that Jesus is the Messiah.  And now their Messiah is telling them that not only is he not going to make everything all better, he’s also going to lead them to a place where all hell will break lose.

But they go.  Six days later, Jesus takes Peter, James and John on a hike to the top of the mountain.  We always imagined that Peter, James and John get to go because they are part of Jesus’ inner circle, his most trusted disciples.  But the opposite could be true.  Maybe Peter, James and John are the least convinced by Jesus’ plan and need something more.  It could be that they need the experience of transfiguration the most to prepare them for what is ahead of them.  Maybe words alone won’t suffice and they need to see for themselves.  Maybe these disciples are the most in need of a holy space to breathe in the presence of God before moving into the messiness of life down below.

When they arrive on the mountain, God does not hide from the disciples, but invites them to step into this crazy unfathomable demonstration of Gods power.  God demonstrates his glory not to threaten or impress.  The glory reminds us of the relationship between God and God’s son, and invites us into that relationship.  It is a glory that does not rebuke or condemn, but names Jesus and us as beloved.  It is a glory that points us to a voice we can hear and trust, even when the worst is happening.  It is a glory that assures that we can enter into those high places, those deep places, those difficult and fearsome places and we will not consumed or destroyed.  We do not have to be afraid.

The transfiguration is a flashing light designed to get our attention, alerting us to what is going to happen to the disciples – and to us -- if we’re serious about following Jesus up the mountain, then down that mountain, and up another mountain called Calvary.   Because the transfiguration story is not about how Jesus is transformed up on the mountain.  Jesus in his glory, his face shining like the sun, is what he always is when not obscured by the difficult business of human flesh.  Transfiguration is, however, OUR encounter with the holy so that WE may be transformed. 

After this time on the mountain, there’s no turning back.  Not for Jesus.  Not for James, John or Peter.  Not for you and me.  It’s all downhill from here, from now until Easter.  What we see on the mountain is just the beginning of what God will reveal to us.  We’ve got to move from the high places to the low places to see the fullness of God’s glory.

Barbara Brown Taylor calls the cloud that envelops and frightens the disciples, “the bright cloud of unknowing.”[1]  It is a cloud we enter not to become more certain of everything or even more certain about what the light or the cloud means, but to be so broken open that there can be room for “divine movement” in our lives, particularly as we enter the season of Lent.  Only when our own certainty is shattered can God’s certainty seep into us.

I have become more and more convinced over the past few years that the greatest challenge facing all of us in Christ’s service is not knowing more, but to get better at not knowing.  To survive in the wilderness without a map or a GPS and exist in the not yet knowing where God is leading us.  It is ironic that the church finds itself in such position in an age where we have the ability not only to figure out exactly where we are just by looking at a smart phone in the palm of our hand, but also know exactly where everyone else is by tracking their phone. 

Human beings know so much, and yet, when you come right down to it, we really don’t know very much at all.  And I think that Lent is the perfect metaphor for where Christ’s church we find ourselves in 2014.  We find ourselves needing to repent of the ways we have, as an institution and as individuals, made it so hard for so many to know the love of God through Jesus Christ.  Like Peter, we have been busy thinking how to contain the glory of God in a church-shaped box and have been blind to God’s glory that shines in the world all around us.  We are fearful when confronted by change, sleepy when confronted by injustice, and timid in our witness to Christ’s presence in our lives.  We so often choose to shelter in place instead of participating in the work of the Holy Spirit blowing through our communities and our lives.

The transfiguration is a story we need to hold on to as we move through the wilderness of Lent and beyond.  Because it tells us we do not go up the mountain alone.  It tells us that things can be frightening before they become holy.  But it also tells us that there is someone who will touch us and raise us up when we are too frozen and frightened to move on our own.  He is the Light that came into the world, the light we can follow down the mountain back to wildness and wonder of our existence. 

He meets us here today.  Not on a mountain, but at this table in the bread and the cup.
He lifts us up today.  Into the very presence of God.
He feeds us today.  So we may be strengthened for whatever comes next.
He sends us today.  Into a world that will frighten and delight. 

He is God’s beloved and we are his, so we can do this.  We can do this.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.









[1] Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Bright Cloud of Unknowing.” http://day1.org/5560-the_bright_cloud_of_unknowing.Downloaded on 2/28/13.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Guest Preacher -- Matt Harding, February 23, 2014








We were overjoyed to welcome Mr. Matt Harding, Director of The Shepherd's Door, to our pulpit this morning.  Listen to his message below:

https://soundcloud.com/emsworthup/february-23-2014-11-16-24-am/s-vBcCa

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Come and Meet Matt Harding, Director of The Shepherd's Door This Sunday!





Matt Harding will tell us about his faith journey and his call to serve our community through the mission and ministry of The Shepherd's Door, a 501.3c non-profit based in Bellevue.  Here's a description of The Shepherd Door's work:

Vision:  The North Boroughs will be communities where people are not conformed by the patterns of this world, but are radically transformed through the power of Jesus Christ.

Mission:  To engage, empower and equip the least of these so they may live out God’s plans to prosper and have a future.

Engage- Equip- Empower
We ENGAGE people through programs and events that meet needs and help us develop relationships.
 
We EMPOWER people through self-discovery of God’s plan for their life.

We EQUIP people with the support system needed to live out God’s plan.



Values:

 

A ministry of presence.
Nobody should ever feel alone or unloved in this world.  At The Shepherd’s Door we aim to provide that presence in our community that lets everybody know they are loved and important.

A light in the darkness.
There is hope in every situation and at The Shepherd’s Door we aim to be that light no matter how dark the world and life may seem.  Through our service, words and actions we will shine in our communities and beyond.

Meeting people where they are.
It’s not about where you came from or where you are, but where you are going that is important.  At The Shepherd’s Door we don’t focus on the past but meet people where they are, having compassion on them, and walking beside them in their path towards restoration.

Cultivating loving relationships.
Our communities will be transformed when we serve one another because we love one another.  At The Shepherd’s Door we look to build relationships with those we meet, not simply offer services.

Building bridges to care.
Unable to do everything, we will do anything we can to help find and connect individuals to the appropriate resources to meet their needs. Whether it is through our own programs and services or others, we do our best at making sure everybody is receiving the love and support they need.


Sunday, February 16, 2014

Ordinary 6 A, February 16, 2014

As If Your Life Depended On It


 “No Exit.” New York Times, 2006.
Audio here: https://soundcloud.com/emsworthup/february-16-2014-11-13-17-am/s-Z1DJc

Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Matthew 5:21-37

21“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. 23So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. 25Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. 26Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

27“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell. 31“It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ 32But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.

33“Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ 34But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, 35or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. 36And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. 37Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one.


Jean Paul Sartre, the famous existentialist, is perhaps most well known for his one-act play, “No Exit,” in which the three main characters have been sentenced to hell.  And for Sartre, hell is not some hot place with devils and demons or lakes of fire.  Sartre’s version of hell is spending all of eternity in a locked room with three incredibly annoying people.  Ever since I read that play in high school, I have always found that scenario far more frightening than hellfire and brimstone.  And after some long family  road trips when the kids were little, I feel as if I’ve experienced it.

Sartre’s play has one very famous line: “Hell is other people.”  Now, even though Sartre was a confirmed atheist, it seems like he might have some understanding of how Jesus interprets Torah law. Because Jesus’ interpretation seems couched in the clear recognition that one of the most difficult parts of being a human being is having to deal with other human beings.  Or, to use the line we always used to use back when I was in advertising, “This would be such a great business if it weren’t for the clients.”  Or, as I have heard church people say, “This would be such a nice church if it weren’t for the people.”  Of course, when you get right down to it, even though healthy relationships seems to be the whole point of being human, it’s easy to forget that when we run into the inevitable conflicts of life together in families, in workplaces and in the church.  Life together can be messy.  And conflict can indeed, feel hellish.

So in today’s text, which is part of the Sermon on the Mount, we hear Jesus’ interpretation of Torah law.  Although we often think of the law or the 10 Commandments as rules for right behavior, Jesus’ reinterpretation seems designed to get us thinking about right relationships.  Even if the language about tearing out eyeballs and chopping off our hands makes us uneasy, these are words that demand our attention because they communicate how passionately God cares about our relationships with other human beings.

These verses today from Matthew contain four of the six “antitheses” used by Jesus to interpret the law.  The structure is pretty consistent and it will probably sound  familiar to you.  Here they are:

You have it heard it said, “You shall not murder.” 
You have heard it said, “You shall not commit adultery.” 
You have heard it said, “Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.” 
You have heard it said, “You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.” 
And then in verses 38-48 which come follow today’s lectionary passage, there are two more antitheses:
You have heard it said, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.” 
You have heard it said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” 

Jesus takes each of these laws and looks at the old ways in new ways that were probably pretty stunning for his Jewish audience. He cuts through the religious smog so that the light of truth can shine.  Jesus doesn’t dispute the law, but he does puts flesh on it, placing the laws in the context of our real lives and our struggles to be honest in our relationships and in doing so, exposes our fierce resistance to love.

“You have it heard it said, ‘You shall not murder.’”  Jesus says that anger and bitterness destroy relationships as surely as murder.  I’m pretty sure that there are not a lot of murderers among us today, but I would guess that most of us sitting here are currently ticked off with at least one person.   And Jesus is having any of that, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me” business.  Our words can injure as deeply as a knife or a bullet.  Inflicting emotional harm by calling someone names or refusing to forgive them is the same as inflicting physical violence.

“You have heard it said, “You shall not commit adultery.’”  Jesus says that looking at another person as a sexual object is the same as actually using that person as a sexual object.  And being exploited in such a way was not merely a question of morality, but in fact a dangerous situation for women in the first century.   Women in Jesus’ time were dependent upon fathers or husbands, and to be used and discarded for another’s sexual desires had sometimes deadly repercussions. A woman who had been seduced brought great shame upon her family. A woman who had been raped was considered damaged goods. For young women, the ability to marry well would be jeopardized. For those who were married, there would be the threat of divorce or worse.  

You have heard it said, “Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.”  Jesus says that divorce is a terrible idea because it puts women in a vulnerable position.  Wives in that time could be cast aside for ridiculous reasons, including burning bread.   Far from merely seeing women as property to be coveted by men, Jesus’ teaching on adultery and divorce reinforces the dignity of women and warns against a culture of male privilege.  I suspect that Jesus’ teaching warns us against treating any person as disposable.  And when divorce is inevitable, as it often is, we need to still honor one another and be certain that vulnerable people are not harmed in the process, especially children.

You have heard it said, “You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.”  Jesus says, we should speak and act with such integrity that we don’t need to make oaths at all.   Imagine that, politicians and lawyers.

You have heard it said, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”  Jesus says, turn the other cheek, give up your coat and your cloak, go the extra mile, and give to everyone and don’t refuse to lend to anyone who asks.  So much for the military and banks.

You have heard it said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.”  Jesus says, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”  Well, Jesus has pretty much gotten all of us on that one, hasn’t he?

And then the rest of it – about tearing out our eyeballs, or cutting off our hand and burning in hell – all of that hyperbole reinforces God’s deep interest in how we conduct our relationships.  They matter to God more than we realize.  Because the way in which we treat one another has quite a lot to do not just with where we will end up in the next.  The quality of our relationships determine how well we live the life we are in right now.  
 
Jesus’ interpretation invites us to imagine what it would be like to live in a world where we honor each and every person as blessed and beloved of God.  And I believe that most people really do want to live in a world where people treat one another with gentleness and respect.  The big question is given where we are, how do we get to that place that seems so very far away?

At our presbytery meeting this week, a group of pastors attempted to guide a conversation about racism among the elders and ministers gathered for the meeting.  In that large suburban sanctuary filled with mostly white Christians, you could just feel the tension in the air almost instantly.  Talking about race in public is not something we do well as Americans, and we sure don’t do it very well or very comfortably as white mainline Presbyterians.  As our presbytery’s general minister Sheldon Sorge pointed out, not much has changed in our churches since Martin Luther King, Jr. observed that Sunday morning at 11 a.m. is the most segregated hour of the week in American.  A half-century later, the majority of Presbyterian churches do not come close to resembling King’s “beloved community” or John’s vision in Revelations of people “from every tribe and nation” united in chorus around the throne of God.  And the church is very far away from fulfilling our constant prayer of, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

Sheldon suggested conversations about race are hard for us because they require us to confess our own brokenness, embrace people we’ve been taught to keep at arm’s length, and trust people who we have been conditioned to see as our enemy.  It is so much easier to not have those conversations and I suspect that the majority of people at the presbytery meeting would have been much more comfortable to talk about property or money for an hour instead. 

If we want to participate in the kingdom building work of Jesus Christ, I think we have got to take seriously what Jesus is teaching in Matthew and begin the incredibly hard work of having difficult conversations about how we can get better at loving our brothers and sisters as if our own lives depended on it.  Jesus suggests that this is serious, life-saving business.  Loving one another is the primary mission of Christ’s church.  In fact, love is the only mission of the church.  Our mission is not to protect ourselves or maintain our institutions.  Not to save our own lives, but to lay down our lives for one another.  To outdo each other in honoring and lifting up one another. 

Loving as if our life depends upon it means we stand up not just for the prevention of murder, but for the dignity, health and well-being of all God’s children.  It means that we strive to seek understanding instead of giving in to anger.  It means that we stop holding onto grudges that we secretly enjoy holding, but are in fact poison to our souls. 

Loving as if our life depends upon it means that are faithful to the covenants that we have make, particularly in our most intimate relationships.  It means that we teach our children about the God’s incredible gift of sexuality and the awesome responsibility that comes with it.  It means that we should reject those who objectify and exploit other people, and call out sexism that demeans people. 

But loving as if our life depends upon it also means we honor the institution of marriage and family without turning it into an idol.  It means that we acknowledge the reality that some brokenness that cannot be repaired.  Relationships sometimes must come to an end and do come to an end, but they must end in a manner that provides wholeness and healing for everyone involved, especially the most vulnerable. 

Loving as if our life depends upon it means that we must say what we mean and mean what we say.  We must strive to be honest.  Trustworthy.  Transparent in our dealings.  Our yes must mean yes, but our no must also mean no. 

Loving as if our life depends upon it means that we have to be ridiculously generous.  Ridiculously forgiving.  Ridiculously kind.  Ridiculously vulnerable.  And we have to do all of this as if our lives depend upon it. 

Jesus won’t let us keep our religious lives in one box and our real lives in another.  God requires our whole lives.  Not our actions alone, but our thoughts, our intentions, our words, our very being. 

In our text from Deuteronomy this morning, Moses knows he is about to die.  The Israelites are at the Jordon River about to enter the promised land.  In his final words to the people he has led through the wilderness, Moses lays out their future:  “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, 20loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you.” 

We choose life when we choose to love.  To forgive.  To let go of anger. To fight for justice.  To care for the hurting.  To treat others fairly.  To celebrate sex with the one we honor and cherish.  To sleep well at night because we have chosen truthfulness.  And to wake up each morning feeling blessed again by our hunger and thirst for righteousness, which are gifts of the Spirit for us as God’s chosen people. 

Wow.  You know what that sounds like?  Not just a good life, but a little bit of heaven on earth.   May it be so for you, for me, for all creation.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.