Luke 4.1–13
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning
Plymouth Congregational UCC,
Fort Collins, Colorado

“I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.”  

Did you notice anything about Jesus that was missing? How about this one:
“We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made, of one being with the Father; through him all things were made. For us and for our salvation he came down from Heaven, was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and did become truly human. For our sake, he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered death and was buried.  

Did you catch what was missing? These ancient creeds have a beginning on the timeline of Jesus’ life (born of the Virgin Mary), and there is an endpoint on his human timeline (crucified, died, buried). The creeds even name the man who did it: Pontius Pilate. But what happened to the intervening 33 years of Jesus’ life?
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One of the reasons I wrestle with the creeds of the early church is that they omit what I consider absolutely central in the New Testament and in a living, vital Christian faith: the sometimes scandalous and dangerous life and teachings of Jesus.

The Nicene Creed is the earlier of the two, written by bishops at the Council of Nicaea in 325…all male bishops of course, the council was convened by the emperor in a palace that belonged to Constantine himself, and the bishops were under the guard of Roman soldiers as they tried to define orthodoxy for Constantine.

Think of it – within 300 years the followers of Jesus went from being subversives whose leader was nailed on a cross in the Jewish homeland by Rome to become the official religion of the Roman Empire and whose theology was under the scrutiny of the emperor and his legions. The anti-imperial movement had been coopted into the establishment of the empire itself! Why does this matter? Look at Christian nationalism at home and abroad for the answer.

Perhaps that is the reason the creeds fail to mention the teachings of Jesus: they are too hot to handle, too full of subversive wisdom, too hard to deal with as the establishment rather than the movement.

When I was growing up in a New England Congregational UCC church, we didn’t say the creeds, and we didn’t observe Lent, which was true for our Puritan and Pilgrim forebears. Maybe some people knew that Lent was happening and what it was about, but I certainly didn’t. Growing up in a state with a large Roman Catholic population, I knew lots of kids who went to catechism after school, gave things up for Lent, and the public schools always had fish sticks for hot lunch on Fridays – all of which was mystifying to me. And that is because our Reformed forbears didn’t observe non-biblical holidays, because they wanted to return as closely as possible to the practice of the very early church and to shed centuries of accretion by the Church of Rome.

Lent was not widely observed in the church until Christianity was the established religion of the Empire. What can we learn if we go back before the Council of Nicaea in 325?

In the early Egyptian tradition of the desert mothers and fathers, Lent was an emulation of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness, a time of testing, a vision quest that Jesus himself experienced. And in the church in Jerusalem, it was a forty-day preparation of initiates for baptism and full inclusion in the church at Easter.
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Those are two very different ways to observe the 40 days.

Most of the church forgot (and sometimes still forgets) the life and teachings of Jesus! In just the same way the creeds do, the timing of Lent and Good Friday skip over everything Jesus did between the beginning of his public ministry and the week he died. The forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness prepared him to lead a new movement and preach the liberating reign of God and heal. If we focus on Jesus’ wilderness experience in Lent, we remember and observe the launch pad from which he set out on his ministry, and that can carry over into our lives today.

Jesus’ time in the wilderness is historically separate and distinct from his crucifixion, thought they bump up next to one another in the liturgical calendar. Jesus was not tempted by Satan in the desert so that he could head right into beautiful downtown Jerusalem to be executed by Rome! He was tempted by Satan so that he could become ready to take on the religious establishment and the Roman Empire itself.

Please don’t misunderstand me: the crucifixion of Jesus is critically important, and we will get there during Holy Week. A profound truth of Jesus’ self-sacrifice is that “No one has greater love than this, but to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”  

For me, the desert mothers and fathers had a strong point: Lent is about the wilderness pilgrimage of Jesus, being tempted by possessions, power, and fame — and rejecting them all. It is a refining quest in the desert that enables Jesus to emerge in the Galilee and become a teacher, sage, and prophet of God. Immediately after today’s reading, Luke says Jesus “returned to Galilee” and “began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.” And then comes his “inaugural address,” preaching from Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor…release to the captives…recovery of sight to the blind…let the oppressed go free…to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Of course, any self-respecting Roman emperor wouldn’t want that to be the emphasis of the state religion! And Christian nationalists in our country or in Vladimir Putin’s Russia run away from the historical Jesus as well because the liberation he offers is anathema to them.
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Then Jesus heals people, calls the twelve disciples, and then preaches the Sermon on the Plain (or the Sermon on the Mount as Matthew calls it), the crystallization of his prophetic teaching, which starts with “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Why don’t we have a liturgical season dedicated to the Sermon on the Mount or the Beatitudes? Is Jesus still too risky for the church to handle?

So, where does that leave us with Lent? Though you may not guess it, I love Lent as a season when we test our faith and try to go deeper. When we pray a little more, live intentionally a little more, consider our way of life a little more, our faith gains greater depth.

Lent is not simply a 40-day prelude to the crucifixion, but rather a challenge to live faithfully…to try and learn more about the life and teachings of Jesus and then put them into practice in our own lives…which is a lot harder than simply giving up chocolate for 40 days…and it yields longer lasting results.

My challenge to you is this: find a way to go deeper. Observe sabbath time each day, read our Lenten Devotional booklet (available in the Fellowship Hall), have ten minutes or more of silent or walking meditation, read the gospel of Luke that is in our lectionary this season, join the brand new study of Genesis with Art Rooze, or give up chocolate (but remember it’s not just to cut calories). Remember what Jesus said, “I came so that you could have life and have it in abundance.” 

May we in this beloved community have the grace to grant ourselves some sabbath space this Lent as we delve deeper into our faith. 

​Amen.

© 2022 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal at plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint.

Luke 6.17–26
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning
Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins

I grew up in the United Church of Christ in the 70s, a time when many of us kids in mainline churches didn’t learn much about the Bible. But I do remember memorizing two passages from the Bible: the 23rd Psalm and the Beatitudes. Beatus in Latin means blessed or happy or favored, and so the section of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount with all the “Blesseds” are called the Beatitudes. Of course, we memorized Matthew’s version of the Beatitudes, not Luke’s. Most American Christians probably don’t even know that Luke brought the Sermon on the Mount down to earth and calls it the Sermon on the Plain. 

Luke’s rendition is a more raw, tough-minded set of blessings, which is probably the reason that most of us know Matthew’s version better. And Luke leaves in not just the blessings, but includes the curses as well, and we can’t have that, can we?!

The church I grew up in was a very affluent congregation. The poor in spirit were blessed, and that was good news indeed for my family, for a raft of CEOs who were members of our congregation. This was a congregation that defined privilege and wealth. I don’t envy the clergy at that congregation trying to preach on Luke’s version of the Beatitudes: imagine telling the captains of industry: “Blessed are you poor” but “woe to you who are rich!” Can you imagine?! That would be tough to hear if you were in their shoes.

I hate to tell you this…we are in their shoes.

The Greek word we translate as “poor,” ptochos, doesn’t mean struggling middle class. It doesn’t mean that you bought a more expensive car than you should have and you’re having trouble making the payments. It doesn’t mean that things are tight because your son or daughter is attending a private liberal-arts college. It doesn’t mean that you’re worried that your 401(k) won’t be what you hoped so you can retire when you’re 65. Ptochos means dirt poor…reduced to begging…hungry…without any property. While most of us experience financial struggles of one type or another, there are very few folks in this congregation who are in that place…who are “blessed” in that way.

But, the rest of us: woe to us who are rich, for we have received our consolation! 
Some scholars say that these Beatitudes are directed just to the disciples, not to a larger crowd. (And you could make that argument, based on Luke’s account: “Then he looked up at his disciples and said: ‘Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.’”) One scholar writes, “As such they do not speak of ‘the general human conditions of poverty and suffering’ applicable to the crowds or the generic ‘anxiety about the basic necessities’ but of specific consequences of discipleship.”   

Phew! That was a close one. Maybe the text really isn’t about poverty in general. We don’t have to worry unless…we… are… disciples…or…followers of Christ.
The reality is that 2.3 billion people on this planet – 31% of everyone around the world (and 65% of us in the United States) – claim to be Christian, so if poverty is supposed to be a “specific consequence of discipleship,” then a lot of us are blowing it. (Just for the record, 25 percent of the world is Muslim, and only 0.18 percent are Jewish.) Maybe we’re meant to be sacrificing a bit more than we are already. Perhaps we are meant to be a blessing to the ptochoi – the poorest of the poor. Why? Because Jesus said God has shown them favor.
 
I have a hunch that most of us worshipping today would our lunch if a hungry person sat down next to us; we are a very compassionate congregation. But, there are a lot of hungry people around the world and even in our community whom we simply don’t see. And sometimes there are hungry people whom we don’t WANT to see.

Sometimes, there are people who we wish would remain invisible. We wish we didn’t have to see refugees trying to make their way from Africa into Europe. We would rather not see Mexicans and Central Americans coming across the border into the United States. And we’d rather not be forced to acknowledge and deal with people living in Fort Collins experiencing homelessness. 

Most of us would share our lunch with a refugee, give a drink to a Mexican migrant, or give a few more bucks to Neighbor to Neighbor. And some of us at Plymouth are doing a whole lot more than that. A few weeks back, our FFH Team finished a week of hosting several homeless families at Plymouth, which requires a large group of volunteers. Thank you all for putting your faith into action. You make a difference in the lives of people experiencing homelessness.

Why do we tolerate a world that allows these conditions to exist in the first place? I’m not suggesting that we just throw money at problems – which often creates vicious cycles of dependence – though it’s a place to start. I am suggesting that we help create equitable, sustainable systems that ultimately enable people to help themselves. And when dire situations arise globally or locally, we should have the capacity to respond with compassion and tangible assistance…even if it costs us dearly.

Dom Helder Camara, a Brazilian archbishop who died in the 90s, put it this way: “When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.”

I know that we need to have the Mission, and Faith Family Hospitality network, but why are there homeless people in Fort Collins to begin with? Is it because businesses offer low-wage jobs that can’t keep a family housed in this community? Is it because there is a limited supply of affordable rental options? Is it because we have a crisis in mental health and substance abuse in Fort Collins that we are only beginning to address? Is it because our taxation priorities have shifted toward aiding the super-rich at the expense of the middle class? (If you think that is an exaggeration, think about Amazon’s ability to avoid federal taxes. Over the last three years, they have paid an effective tax rate of 4.3% on $4.7 billion in profits. I don’t know about you, but my tax rate is a bit higher than 4.3%.)

Housing Catalyst, our local housing authority, is making some great, creative strides around permanent supportive housing that assists formerly homeless folks to live in a stable environment with on-site support for their physical and mental challenges. You may have seen Mason Place where the Midtown Arts Center used to be, which for the last year has been housing 60 formerly homeless people with disabilities. And they are doing great things toward increasing affordable housing, like the construction of The Village apartments on Horsetooth.

Policy makes a big difference, and the American Rescue Plan passed last March had a significant impact on child poverty in the United States. Researchers at Columbia University estimate that this one act helped keep 3.5 million American children out of poverty last year. According to Gregory Acs of the Urban Institute, “Reducing child poverty has the potential to have profound intergenerational benefits. If kids are not poor, if households are not stressed by poverty, then they’re more likely to … do better in school, get more education and be on a better path forward as adults.”  And yet, the child tax credit, is not being renewed by Congress. The kids slipping back into poverty will suffer. In a so-called Christian nation, how can we allow this?

What I hope you hear me saying is that our faith demands justice, not just charity. Discipleship is costly. Justice is costly. And if we have the courage to open our eyes, we will see there is much work to be done in the world around us. 

Here is a secret I’ll let you in on…doing justice work grounded in faith makes life meaningful. If there in one thing the pandemic has made clear (through The Great Resignation and in clarifying our priorities) is that we want life to have meaning.
 
Aren’t there times when we would rather that Jesus remain invisible, too…or at least silent? Jesus is so non-threatening when he is the paschal victim on the cross or when he is that babe in the manger. Jesus is so benign when all we have to do is say that he is our Lord and Savior in order to be saved. But as Christians we must look carefully and consider Jesus, because as Isaiah said, “the eyes of the blind will be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped.” (Isa. 35.5) We have no choice but to see and to listen!

Low-commitment disciples aren’t following the Jesus of the Beatitudes. There is far more required of us if we claim to be disciples of the Christ of our faith, who demands that we risk everything for the sake of the kingdom of God.

One of my favorite poets was an Anglican priest in Wales, R.S. Thomas, and he wrote this poem, called “The Kingdom,” which reflects the rough-and-tumble beatitudes of Luke.

It’s a long way off but inside it
There are quite different things going on:
Festivals at which the poor man
Is king and the consumptive is
Healed; mirrors in which the blind look
At themselves and love looks at them
Back; and industry is for mending
The bent bones and the minds fractured
By life. It’s a long way off, but to get
There takes no time and admission
Is free, if you will purge yourself
Of desire, and present yourself with
Your need only and the simple offering
Of your faith, green as a leaf. 

I hope the words of Jesus push you at least a little to do something, to grow, to expand your horizons and your involvement, to go deeper in your faith, to make a difference. Because we work together at Plymouth, you don’t have to do it alone…we have sisters and brothers working as one for the kind of justice Jesus espoused in the Beatitudes.

My prayer for us is that we approach God’s world and our faith with eyes, ears, and hearts open to God, to our best selves, and to all of God’s children. 
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Amen.

Luke 5.1-11
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning,
Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins, Colorado
 
Years ago, I preached on this text and I focused on what it would take for us to become “fishers of folk” and invite new people into our community of faith. I used the analogy of fly-fishing and using different artificial flies to catch different sorts of people…some of us will bite on a tiny gray parachute Adams and others of us will strike at a big, black woolly bugger. And I think that progressive evangelism or “inviting” aspect of the story is absolutely key, and it’s going to be part of our post-pandemic rebuilding. But I’m going to ask you to go somewhere different with me today.

Jesus goes out onto the lake with these guys who have spent their lives fishing…they are the professionals, and their father Zebedee must have taught them the trade over the course of many years. They would know where the fish tended to congregate, what time of day they were active and feeding, and how to use nets masterfully to maximize the catch. But like all fishers, they have the occasional bad day and get “skunked,” which is what happened on the day of our story. So, up comes this spiritual teacher who needs a water-borne pulpit to preach to the gathered crowd, and after the sermon, he tells the guys to row out into deeper water and cast their nets. Can’t you just imagine them folding their arms and saying, “Okay, Jesus, if that’s what you want us to do…”? I imagine that there might have been a few sniggers behind Jesus’ back as well. “Okay, carpenter-boy…let’s see you fish!” And of course, they bring in a miraculous catch. It isn’t just the normal evening’s haul, but rather such an abundance of fish that they need to get another boat to come alongside them to help bring up the nets, which were filled to bursting. Why not just a good or an adequate catch?

Now, it may be that the sons of Zebedee were absolutely gobsmacked…they couldn’t say a word because they were stunned. Or maybe they were embarrassed that the dude from Nazareth bested them in knowing how to fish. Or perhaps they couldn’t believe their eyes. But the only recorded verbal response comes from Peter, who falls down at Jesus’ feet and says, “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Think about that response for a minute. Jesus provides an incredible abundance of fish for these fishermen who were eking out a living on the lake shore, and the best you can come up with is “Get outta here…I’m a sinner and not worthy!”

How many of us would respond in a similar way? Imagine yourself in Peter’s place and Jesus providing twenty amazing new clients or a classroom full of totally motivated students or fellow engineers who were always open to your brilliant ideas. Imagine! How would you respond to that unconditionally loving  and abundant gift? One response might be, “Hey, Jesus, that’s just too much…I can’t accept this.” Perhaps that is why Peter is overwhelmed. What would YOU say to Jesus?

I wonder if any of you would say something that none of the disciples did: THANKS! There seems to be a sense of amazement among the disciples and Peter can’t accept that he is deserving of such a gift. But no one in the narrative turns to Jesus and says, “Thank you, Lord. You’ve done something amazing here, and none of us could have done that on our own. We are so grateful to you for what you’ve provided!”

Are we even remotely aware of the amazing haul that God provides for each of us? The fact that we can broadcast worship? That we even have a church? That Jesus came to share the good news of the kingdom of God and it got passed along to us? That we live in an environment with incredible natural beauty? That we are able to understand one another’s speech and that we can read and that we can explore spiritual mysteries? That we are alive in this very moment? Taken as individual miracles, each of those far surpasses a boatload of fish! Do we recognize the abundance of miraculous gifts God has made possible in our lives? Each of us is the recipient of far greater gifts than fish, which are going to smell funky in a few hours anyway. Take just a moment and think of three gifts that God has given to you unconditionally. [pause]

How do we respond to God’s entrusting so much abundance to us? How do we get beyond being speechless to moving in the direction of a response of gratitude? How do we pay those gifts forward? That’s one of the things communities of faith can help with…being conscious of what has been shared with us, living in a continual sense of gratitude for God’s abundance. And that leads us to responsible stewardship of everything entrusted to us: our bodies, our souls, our families and pets, our possessions and our wealth, all of which are on loan from God. We have an ancient wisdom tradition that guides us away from the “greed is good” and “it’s all about me” mentality that our culture applauds and moves us in the direction of self-giving love.

After Peter offers that “I’m not worthy” line, Jesus comes back to him and says those words we hear so often in the New Testament, the words I wrote about in last Tuesday’s reflection: “Don’t be afraid.” That phrase occurs five times in the Gospel of Luke alone.
None of the disciples may have been very good at articulating their gratitude to Jesus. Nobody wrote a thank-you note or even said WOW! Instead, something more important happened inside them. They saw and were amazed. And some sense of gratitude and wonder filled them so much that when Jesus said that they would be fishers of folks, “they left everything and followed him.”

It makes me wonder whether our sense of gratitude, even when it is not enunciated, could be a vehicle for transformation in our lives…that being grateful to God for the everyday miracles and abundance all around us could and should be life-changing for you and for me.

What sense of gratitude and abundance fills you? Are you aware of the source of that abundance? How can you not only SAY thank you, but how will you put your gratitude into practice, giving it legs, giving it the power to change your life and the lives of others?
Don’t be afraid. Amen.
 
© 2022 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal at plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.