Some Sundays, the readings are a delight to explore, research, and wonder about. On others, the puzzle seems too hard, especially when the Gospel includes a parable, like today. The parable of the shrewd manager left me perplexed the first few times I read it, and there is little commentary in the many bible versions I use to research. So I will circle back to it in a bit, but for now, let’s enjoy the simplicity of Paul’s message to Timothy.

“First of all I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.”

Take a deep breath because today’s readings are far from quiet and peaceable. In fact, Jeremiah’s experience is anguish over the exile and suffering of his people: “My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick.” His words resonated deeply with me as I read them again and again this week. With all the unrest and suffering in the world around us, my heart aches, and I am longing for a quiet and peaceable life. I want to close my doors and shut out the world and all its turmoil. And yet my awareness of this turmoil and my relationship with God means I cannot.

I could easily relate to Jeremiah, who was separated from his people and yet identified with their pain. He knows they have provoked God’s anger, and yet he weeps for them. Jeremiah lived with a deep awareness of God’s love and grieved for those who did not, regardless of their actions.

Jeremiah’s grief is a prophetic activity; his tears are the prelude to an openness to new possibilities.

A quiet, peaceable life is not the experience of our psalmist either, as angry complaints pour out

“Look at what they have done.

Pour out your wrath upon the heathen!

But, God remember not our past sins;

let your compassion be swift to meet us.”

The psalmist has a different outlook than Jeremiah. Heathens are heathens, the faithful are the faithful, and the differences between them are outlined clearly. Those who know God deserve God’s mercy, and those who do not know him deserve his wrath.

How did we come to this in a world where a loving God created everyone?

In our children’s Godly Play program this week, we told the second story of creation found in chapter 2 of Genesis. I wasn’t supposed to be the storyteller. Still, in my absent-minded calendar-keeping, a serendipitous moment occurred because the beauty of this creation story made today’s scriptures clearer to me.

God created everything in love, and it was good.

He placed the first person in the garden, who was Adam, which means “everyone.” Eve was with Adam and part of Adam; they were together like one person, Adam-Eve. Adam-Eve was together with the garden and with God.

There were two mysterious trees in the garden. One was the tree of knowledge. If you ate the fruit from this tree, you would begin to notice differences like the difference between good and evil and up and down. The other was the tree of life. If you ate the fruit from the tree of life, you would live forever.

God told Adam-Eve not to eat from the tree of knowledge.

Of all the creatures in the garden, the serpent was the cleverest. The serpent convinced Adam-Eve to eat from the tree of knowledge and they did.

And everything fell apart. Adam-Eve became Adam and Eve.

And they began to notice the differences like the differences between close and far, Adam and Eve, high and low, people and God, good and evil, near and far.

God looked for them, and they hid.

They no longer knew how to be close to God or each other as they had been before.

They longed to return to the way things were, but they could not; they could only move forward. God placed a flaming sword and a fierce angel at the edge of the garden so they could not go back and eat from the tree of forever.

They came from dust and would return to dust. But God gave them a gift when things fell apart. They could now take the differences they saw and put them together in new ways. They could not make something from nothing like God, but they could sometimes make something good from what they now knew and what they remembered from the love in God’s garden. God was with them always, and he is always with us.

It is not likely that it was Adam-Eve’s intention to separate from each other and cause creation to fall apart when they chose this course of action.

But here we are in a world clearly full of differences, wondering how to move forward and how to create something new from what we see.

Can we return to a quiet, peaceful life that includes everyone?

As I revisit our parable in Luke. I return to trying to puzzle it out.

What is it trying to tell us? Is it good to be shrewd?

When the manager was let go from his position due to his behavior, he chose, in self-preservation, to cut a deal.

Mosaic law prohibits collecting interest from fellow Jews. It is speculated that the manager had originally been overcharging as a means of circumventing this law. And commentators suggest that to win the favor of those indebted to the master, he simply removed the interest.

This clever move ingratiated him with those in debt and also with his master, as he created a reputation of generosity for the master.

The shrewd manager took a financial mess and made something new.

Inadvertently, he made things better for everyone. Now, we cannot really commend him on this because it appears to be purely motivated by selfishness. But we cannot really make him the villain either.

The manager may have helped others for entirely selfish reasons, but he helped them nonetheless.

We cannot villainize the serpent for being in the garden, because God created the garden and everything in it, including the clever serpent.

We cannot decide that Adam and Eve are villains either, even though they made a decision that caused division and all of creation to fall apart.

We cannot villainize the master or the manager because of their role in life, any more than we can villainize Jesus’ friend Judas.

Judas, like Adam and Eve, teaches us about differences. The difference between leaning into love and pulling away from it.

We often think of the good as being first because in our story of the garden, it is.

But we don’t live in the garden, and what if shrewdness, self-serving, and survival came first and was all that was known to us until now?

What if this is the first time we can see the differences from the other side, and now we can choose something new?

The life we are born into and the life we live both affect our ability to see the beauty of holiness and feel the touch of love.

Our psalmist doesn’t sound like he is feeling the loving touch of God. He wants justice. He is pleading with God while still holding onto the differences. He is not ready for the healing that can come from creating something new.

Jeremiah, with his heart broken wide open, holds truth, without blame, grieves a societal disaster, and pleads for healing.

He would weep all day long, a fountain of tears, for those who have fallen apart.

I am still quite puzzled by the parable told today. The message will take some more sorting out for me. But that is the nature and beauty of the parable of Jesus.

And, I don’t need to understand it all at once.

I believe that though we may not be able to return to the quiet, peaceable life of innocence, we can move forward in godliness and dignity as we remember to pray.

Like Jeremiah, we can remember that God does not abandon us because of our mistakes, and we can choose not to abandon others because of theirs. We can let our hearts be torn open for all who are suffering and pray.

We can learn from the psalmist to give our anger over to God, and let go of our desire to hold onto differences and pray.

Pray for our leaders both in our country and the world.

Pray for our neighbors and friends who are exiled from their homes and separated from a quiet and peaceable life.

And when opportunity arises to ease the burden of others, we can be both shrewd and a child of the light.

May we find within us a quiet and peaceable life as we seek to bring peace to others in the midst of our differences.

And may we remember…

There is one God;

There is also one mediator between God and humankind,

Christ Jesus, himself human,

who gave himself a ransom for all.

Amen.

Participation in the Presence

The Trinity is a mystery. It is a mystery that we cannot hurry to solve or seek to understand quickly.

Peace be with you

I have never been one to focus on or talk much about politics. Lately, however, whenever I am gathered with like minded friends, the conversation seems to lean in that direction. Worry, concern, and even fear are at the very center of whatever topic has erupted out of the daily news.

Have you heard this? Did you read about that? Do you understand what is happening in our county, the country, the world? What could all this be leading to? What are we to do?

Much like these gatherings with my friends, the apostles have gathered together, close friends with enough worry and concern, to retreat behind locked doors to a place where they could openly and honestly discuss what was on their minds.

Their whole world has been shattered, and they are trying to sort out the events of the past weeks and prepare for what may be coming in the days ahead. Filled with fear, the room must have been highly charged with anxious energy.

I want you to imagine the moment before Jesus walked in. The energy in the space as words of worry and fear are exchanged. Think about the things that worry you, keep you awake at night, and rob you of your peace.

And then, “Peace be with you.” In an instant, Jesus is present.

In a breath, the air in the room changes, and the heartbeat of each person there slows because when the Prince of Peace enters a space, peace in its very essence enters each person there.

Peace be with you, in a word, Shalom, an everyday Middle Eastern greeting, much like our common greeting: “Hi, how are you?” The meaning behind this greeting runs deeper than it sounds. “Hi, How are you?” really means I see you, and you matter.

William Barclay says the greeting offered by Jesus also means much more.

More than “May you be saved from trouble.” It means: “May God give you every good thing.”

In my bible study group, when the room is charged with worry and concern, and it seems there is nothing we can do to improve the situation we are discussing, someone in the room will break through the tension and say, “We should pray.” The minute the words “let us pray” are spoken, the air shifts, and our hearts are quieted.

Because we trust that when two or three gather to pray, Jesus is present.

Peace enters– even before we recognize Jesus’ presence.

At that moment, something happens in our brains – we are calmed, and our prayers are clear and direct.

This is a place where faith and science are woven together. When fear and worry are present, the amygdala is activated. The amygdala is the part of the brain that triggers a fight-or-flight response.

In contrast, the prefrontal cortex is the part of the brain responsible for rational thinking and decision-making. Activity in the prefrontal cortex becomes impaired during a fight or flight response. Depending on the intensity of the fear – rational thought, emotional regulation, and self-control can go out the window.

Studies have shown that during prayer, the amygdala calms, heart rate and blood pressure decrease, and rational thinking returns.

“Peace be with you.” “May God give you every good thing.” Clears the path, empowers, and opens the space for imagining what previously seemed unimaginable.

Before this moment, the disciples had no idea what they should be doing. Their beloved friend and mentor has been unjustifiably executed, and they fear they may be next.

Jesus’ words “may God give you every good thing” would include may God give you a calm spirit and a clear mind. This shift in brain activity was desperately needed so the disciples could hear and understand the following commissioning.

“As the father has sent me, so I send you.” If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.

With the breath of God, he fills them with the Holy Spirit. From this moment on, everything has changed.

And in the first 5 chapters of Acts, we see the change in action. Clear-headed and empowered by the authority given by Jesus. Peter begins preaching. The first converts were baptized, and there were about 3000 of them. A community is formed, continues to grow, and many are healed.

“Day by day they spent much time together in the temple. They broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the good will of all the people. And day by day, the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.” Acts 2:46-47

Ronald Rolheiser’s book “Holy Longing” talks about the apostolic community. In this community we are, in his words “to stand shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand precisely with people who are very different from ourselves and with them hear a common word, say a common creed, share a common bread, and offer a mutual forgiveness so as in that way to bridge our differences and become a common heart. Church is not about a few like-minded persons getting together for mutual support. It is about millions and millions of different kinds of persons transcending their differences so as to become a community beyond temperament, race, ideology, gender, language, and background.”

Prior to receiving the Holy Spirit, we see a community of people filled with fear, without direction, and without the genuine connections of community. With the filling of the Holy Spirit, the apostolic community is formed and can no longer be contained within the walls of the upper room.

The work of One has now become the work of many. This community, standing shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, bursts into the world and creates a glorious ruckus.

They continued to increase in numbers and it was when people started bringing the sick from nearby towns to be healed that the high priest, in their jealousy, took action.

The apostles were seized and taken before the council, who, in addition to their jealousy, felt like they were being blamed for Jesus’ death.

Even under the scrutiny of the council of high priests, Peter and John do not waver. The fear and anxiety that had once paralyzed them no longer has power over them, and they stand firm in their faith and convictions. Filled with inner peace, they are ready for whatever the future may hold.

We are part of this apostolic community. We break bread together, and we pray together. Jesus is present in the bread and the wine. Jesus is present in the body of believers who come together to pray in his name. Jesus is present when we go into the world and share the good news that all is forgiven of those who turn to him.

Jesus is present, and where he is, there is peace.

May we, too, be at peace and ready for whatever the future holds. May we remain faithful to the teachings of Jesus. May we stand shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand as we go out into the world, creating a glorious ruckus.

“Let us pray for peace: peace in the world and in each of our hearts.” Pope Francis (Dec 17, 1936 – April 21, 2025)

A moment of unraveling

On Saturday morning, a notification for the New York Times popped up on my screen. I read the quote, “Despite ghosts and zombies, Halloween is a holiday for the living.” As the author describes her Brooklyn block, it could have easily been a description of 3rd and 4th Street here in Hamilton.

“Tombstones are planted in the flower beds. A witch appears to have flown into a tree and is suspended there, broom sticking out from the trunk. An undead crone, motion sensitive, accosts passers-by from the hedge.”

In this article, Melissa Kirsch touches on the celebration of getting together in real-time, the wonderful old-fashioned novelty of ringing a doorbell or knocking on a door, and the delight we feel as it is answered, even if by a scary face.

In a time where many of our personal interactions are through one form of technology or another, the community comes together in person, and face-to-face connections are made.

Joyful though perhaps creepy, these delightful exchanges bring our community together.

Here, at St. Paul’s, we decorate,

dress up in fun costumes,

hand out candy,

serve warm food and drinks,

and welcome everyone into the celebration.

Halloween is indeed a holiday for the living.

While Halloween is widely celebrated, the two days following Oct. 31st are more significant for many. In a practice dating back centuries, many churches observe these two days as a time when the living commemorate the dead. Nov. 1st is All Saints Day, a feast day during whi the lives of the many saints for whom there is no specific feast day during the year. The following day, Nov. 2nd, All Soul’s Day is a day of prayer for and in remembrance of the “faithfully departed”: family, friends, and strangers who no longer live among us.

For me, this season is a time when joy and sorrow are intricately woven together, and I move haphazardly from one to the next and back again. The church’s liturgical practices help me to slow down, pull at a few of the threads of my ancestry, and wonder about life, death, and the meaning of it all.

I remember aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, siblings, and parents who have impacted my life in both positive and negative ways.

Their passing leaves me with many unanswered questions. And the more I explore the questions, the more my understanding seems to unravel.

I realize sometimes, we need to be willing to go into the desert of grief, look around, take in the sights, experience our emotions, ask difficult and awkward questions, and gain new understanding.

I believe

We must go there, but we must not stay there.

The unanswered questions can confuse and consume us.

In the 22nd chapter of Matthew, we are deep in parables, and the deeper we get into parables, the more questions arise.

Why does the fig tree wither?

By what authority are you doing these things?

Is it lawful to pay the emperor or not?

Who does the widow of seven brothers belong to in heaven?

What commandment is the greatest?

And Jesus’ questions

Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it human origin?

In the parable of the two sons, he asks which of the two did the will of the father?

When the vineyard owner comes, what will he do to the tenants?

Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?

What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?

It is as if the Sadducees and the Pharisees are pulling at threads, hoping to unravel the truth. And Jesus is trying to take the threads of understanding and weave them into a larger tapestry. Yet, they could not accept and understand what was right in front of them.

In today’s gospel, a lawyer, who in biblical times refers to one who is well-versed in the Old Testament, wants clarification on the most important of the commandments.

He asks a most straightforward question, which is answered with equal clarity. All the twists and turns of the parables bring us to two very clear commands. Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Its simplicity only confirms the hardheadedness of the Pharisees and Sadducees when Jesus asks What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he? They are confounded and ask no more questions for fear of embarrassment. They only want answers that stay within their understanding.

When we are confused, we must remember understanding takes time and effort, pulling at the threads, letting things unravel a bit, and trusting Jesus to take those threads and weave them into his story.

This can be difficult and scary, yet we must go there.

In the Psalm this morning, please notice our verses jumped from 6 to 13. The omitted verses leave out an intense moment of struggle with God.

7 For we are consumed by your anger;

by your wrath, we are overwhelmed.

8 You have set our iniquities before you,

our secret sins in the light of your countenance.

9 For all our days pass away under your wrath;

our years come to an end like a sigh.

10 The days of our life are seventy years

or perhaps eighty, if we are strong;

even then, their span is only toil and trouble;

they are soon gone, and we fly away.

11 Who considers the power of your anger?

Your wrath is as great

as the fear that is due you.

12 So teach us to count our days

that we may gain a wise heart.

In this prayer of Moses, we hear deep emotions; he is consumed and overwhelmed, recognizing he is fallible and frail. You can hear the depth of his pain as he pleads with God to have compassion. It is a tightly woven understanding of the difficulties of living in the face of death and the joy of participating in life. Amid his fears and understanding of his weaknesses and frailty, Moses recognizes that wisdom comes not from denying death but from acknowledging it and then wholeheartedly embracing the steadfast love that will bring gladness in the morning.

Moses died at 120 years old. The Israelites mourned him for thirty days. Then, the period of mourning ends, and in the verses that follow, his life is celebrated, and his legacy carries on.

In an article by Iris Waichler, seven stages of grief are described in detail.

Shock and denial

Pain and guilt

Anger and bargaining

Depression

The upward turn

Reconstruction and working through

Acceptance and hope

In my personal experience, 30 days isn’t enough time to touch the surface of my grief. And quite honestly, three years after my sister’s passing, I am still filled with questions that overwhelm and threaten to consume me.

Yet I know

God is the God of the living because He is also the God who conquered death. Jesus, in his life, death, and resurrection, proves victory over the grave. The resurrection of Jesus promises us that as we move through life and death, we remain alive in the eternal story.

We, too, must prove victory over the grave by continuing to celebrate life by coming together in worship and community, loving God and loving neighbor even when it doesn’t fit our current understanding.

The Psalm reminds us it is okay to go there to pull the thread to examine the fabric,

and from this exploration, we recognize our frailty

and gain wisdom of the Kingdom of God.

In answer to the question of what will happen to the widow who married seven brothers at the resurrection, Jesus answers. “And as for the resurrection of the dead, have you not read what was said to you by God. I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? He is God, not of the dead but the living.”

I love the paradox of scary Halloween and joyful children,

the celebration of all saints and all souls as we remember our grief and loss, and the beauty of lives lived.

And the even bigger mystery, that God, the Messiah, and the kingdom are both known and unknown.

We must continually go into the unknown, ask questions, allow our understanding to unravel, and, in faith, trust that new understanding will come in surprising ways as Jesus weaves the threads of our stories into his.

May the graciousness of the Lord our God be upon us, prosper the work of our hands; prosper our handiwork. So that in the days to come, when our time on earth has passed, our life will be celebrated, and we, too, can leave a legacy of love for those who will follow. Amen