Today we begin a journey with Simon Peter.

I have a confession to make. I was drawn to this worship series, designed for our use in the season of Lent, for two reasons. First, it appealed to me because I think I have given Peter short shrift over the course of my years of preaching. When I look back at his appearances in my sermons, I haven’t been very kind to Peter. I’ve made a caricature of him—had an attitude of “Oh, that Peter. There he goes again. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, missing the point.” And that’s simply not fair. If we look at the whole of Peter’s life with Jesus—the high points and the low points, the moments of deep insight and the moments of deeper learning—Peter feels awfully familiar. Peter starts to feel like us. Ordinary people who find themselves in a lifelong relationship with a Lord who challenges them, affirms them, lifts them up when they’re sinking, and calls them to be his witnesses in the world. What better guide could we have in our Lenten journey than someone who, just like us, is always working to figure out his faith? What better companion along Jesus’ way? Because, of course, a journey with Simon Peter is sure to turn out to be a journey with Jesus…

Image: River of Grace by Lisle Wynn Garrity | A Sanctified Art | sanctifiedart.org

I want to highlight the Biblical understanding of sin, in both testaments. The Hebrew and Greek words for sin are both terms of archery; sin means, “missing the mark,” or the “measure by which you missed the mark.”

This is incredibly important for us to remember. The biblical assumption about sin is that it is not necessarily something we do out of malice, but most often, a situation where we tried and failed to do the right thing. Could David’s situation with Bathsheba fall into that category? Probably not. Hard to say. That’s between David and God. But for us, who may be weighted down with guilt, or even, as Martin Luther had, scruples—that is, self-criticism that becomes an unhealthy obsession—for us, the understanding of our ancestors in faith can be liberating. It can help us to think of our failures as failures, and it can also help us to understand when we have crossed that line into malice.

This is why it’s so important that we tune our hearts to God’s as Lent begins, and ever afterward. David is beautifully attuned to God’s heart:

God is kind and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love…

Design elements by the Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman | A Sanctified Art | sanctifiedart.org.

…Elijah is a remarkable figure. We first hear about him in 1 Kings, after Ahab comes to power in the northern kingdom—Ahab, who is notorious, one of the most awful, unfaithful kings of God’s covenant people. Adding to that, Ahab’s wife is a worshiper of Baal—a Canaanite god responsible for the weather. Ahab upends Hebrew worship and builds a large temple to Baal. Jezebel imports a large group of Baal’s priests and prophets. That’s enough for Elijah. He appears, and does everything he can to call out Ahab and Jezebel until the day God whisks him away, because not only are they terrible, they’re only the most recent in a long line of monarchs who have wandered far, far away from God….

Image: Elijah and Elisha, Koenig, Peter. Elijah and Elisha, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=58492 [retrieved February 1, 2024]. Original source: Peter Winfried (Canisius) Koenig, https://www.pwkoenig.co.uk/.

I’ve always wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps, from the time I was a tiny boy. I remember peeking out of my mother’s arms in the early morning, while it was still dark, to see my father and my uncle Andrew, faces shining in the firelight, ropes draped over their shoulders, saying goodbye before heading down to the sea to climb into their boats.

My father was a genius with the nets. In fact it was always a point of contention—even competition—between him and my uncle Andrew. Who could find the perfect spot, the place where, when the nets were cast, almost immediately the men in the boat would begin to feel the rustle and sway that told them, ah. Here it is! The place where the fish are today! Ah. Tonight my wife will smile warmly at me, because the proceeds from this catch will feed our family for a week, maybe even two.

I saw the joy my father took in the catch, the way he would throw back his head and murmur a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord: “How good it is to sing praises to our God; for God is gracious!” I saw the satisfaction he had in a hard day’s labor, that made his muscles ache, yes, but also made them strong. I saw the contentment he found in providing for his family. I saw all these things, and I thought: that is what I will do. I will follow my father down to the sea and into the boats….

Image: Israeli Boy, source unknown.

…This is where reading scripture can get tricky for us. We hear a lot of possession stories in scripture described in ways that seem to indicate mental illness to our modern ears. In Jesus’ day, it was common to think illnesses of every kind came from demons or demonic spirits. That was the norm, for the terrible and the inexplicable. In some ways, the belief in demons provided an explanation for the unavoidable trials and sorrows people experienced, things that made life painful, difficult, and sometimes, cut it short.

We have modern medicine to cast out many, if not most of those ailments. There are medications and therapy to give folks who struggle with mental illness or depression at least a fighting chance to live at peace with themselves. But life isn’t perfect yet. We still experience and witness things that bring us down. Depression that convinces us nothing will ever change, and there’s no reason to try. Illness that seems responsive to the latest drug or procedures, but which returns, or never truly leaves. Not to mention, systems that oppress, dominate, and harm, treating human beings as cogs in a machine, or worse, as animals, vermin, only worthy when they are useful. And such systems transcend place and time—here and now, there and then, they were and are active. No wonder the concept of “demons” is so strong in scripture. When faced with these kinds of intractable problems, we can understand why people would attribute them to supernatural forces…

Image: Friesach, Konrad von. Jesus Casts Out the Unclean Spirit, the Cathedral of Gurk, Carinthia, Austria, ca. 1450. from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56402 [retrieved January 6, 2024]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fastentuch_Gurker_Dom_Daemonenaustreibung_30032007.jpg.

… So, my first question was: Why did these men leave all those things, all those people, and do it so easily, almost cavalierly, carelessly? That’s what it looks like in our passage. It looks like, a stranger walked up to these men, said, “Follow me, and I’ll show you how to fish for people,” and they all said, YEAH! And jumped up and went.

And my second question was, how is it possible to leave all these, and be ok? How is it possible to do it without resentment, without regret? Isn’t it hard? Isn’t it heartbreaking?

Then, I went to Bible Study, and there, as it so often happens, the members of that group set me on the right path. Sometimes, God provides exactly what you need, exactly when you need it…

Image: Tissot, James, 1836-1902. Calling of Saint James and Saint John, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56290 [retrieved January 20, 2024]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brooklyn_Museum_-_The_Calling_of_Saint_James_and_Saint_John_(Vocation_de_Saint_Jacques_et_de_Saint_Jean)_-_James_Tissot_-_overall.jpg.

…This is a strange story, but it has a ring of truth about it…one of the things I treasure in scripture is that it tells us everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Though this story has come down through thousands of years, and its situation is unlikely to closely resemble any scenario we might experience in this year of our Lord 2024, there are still points of contact. I believe this story teaches us at least five things about hearing and receiving God’s call.

God might call upon us before we seem or feel ready.

Samuel is a child, perhaps as young as 5 years old. His mother is still making him little robes each year, because he hasn’t yet grown into the robes they keep around the temple. And yet Samuel is the vessel God chooses to receive this divine proclamation….

This week, I read the following story. (It was shared by Dr. Alicia Vargas, dean of a seminary.):

The town in which I live has one main boulevard that runs east to west through the entire town. For most of this route of maybe two miles, there are “NO U-TURN” signs posted at each cross street. Having … been puzzled by this for a long time, I finally got the explanation from a local who had lived there many years. It is designed to prevent young people from cruising—in other words, driving and circling back and forth up and down the boulevard—so that the road became virtually undrivable for many hours each weekend evening.

Then one day, I had a vision: there were workers taking down all the NO U-TURN signs and getting rid of them. Instead, at each cross street they had posted “U-TURNS OK” signs.

U-turns OK—no, in fact, strongly encouraged.[i]

This is a good summary of what is going on in the preaching of John the Baptist, whose ministry is so appealing to Jesus, Jesus joins the crowds from all over Judea, wades into the water, and experiences something that surprises us 21st century Christians. John is inviting everyone, everywhere to come to be washed, as a sign of their repentance—and a U-turn is as good a metaphor for repentance as any I’ve heard. ..

[i] Alicia Vargas, “Commentary on Mark 1:4-11,” Baptism of Christ (Year B), Working Preacher Website, January 7, 2024. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/baptism-of-our-lord-2/commentary-on-mark-14-11-5.  

Image: Zelenka, Dave. Baptism of Christ (painting, 2005), from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56385 [retrieved January 6, 2024]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Baptism-of-Christ.jpg.

… I was reading our passage from 1 John this week. It is a beautiful passage—filled with comforting words of reassurance. “See what love the Father has given us,” the author writes, “that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.” There is no question that our faith in the God of Jesus Christ is a gift, one through which we are blessed every day. To be children of so loving a parent, to be followers of the image of God on earth, is a tremendous blessing. To be privileged to call God father, or mother, or Beloved, suggests an intimacy in our relationship with the Divine that breaks the mold of religions in the ancient world, in which gods were unpredictable tyrants who needed to be flattered with offerings, so that they didn’t crush you.

But in the next verse, the author says something curious: “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be, has not yet been revealed….”

Image: Cross, Henri Edmond, 1856-1910. Landscape with Stars, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57008 [retrieved October 25, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Landscape_with_Stars_MET_DT736.jpg.

…It’s important for us to understand how the generations that came before have shaped us, and that goes beyond our literal DNA. I have no doubt that the parents I knew and loved, who raised me, had a profound impact on who I am today. The same is true of the churches that formed throughout the years—the spiritual DNA they carried in them.

What’s the spiritual DNA of Union Presbyterian Church? I think we see living examples of it all around us…

Image: UPC Tree of Life by Susie Chadwick and the congregation; sanctuary cross.

… Some stories are like that: so familiar, we can just about recite them word for word, filling in the blanks if necessary. I remembered that episode this week as I was pondering the very famous, very well-known story we’re reading together today. This is such a well-known story that I knew the “punch line” to it long before I’d ever heard it in the context of worship. “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.” (KJV)

How do we hear a story like this anew? How do we slow ourselves down from inserting all the answers and interpretations we already know as if we’re Rory, just waiting for it to be over? It’s not easy. But I think we can do it….

Image: Roman Coin of Caesar Augustus, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59709 [retrieved September 15, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aureus,_Auguste,_Lyon,_btv1b104440369.jpg.

Today we’re reading a somewhat confusing passage from a letter written by the apostle Paul to a church in Philippi, from a Roman prison. We don’t know exactly what has gotten Paul so fired up about his religious background, to want to explain it so thoroughly. In that whole first paragraph Paul is fiercely proud of his parentage, his training in scripture, his achievements… all the kinds of things that might give a person an impressive reputation in his community. And then, he kicks it all to the curb. It’s nothing, he says, in the face of knowing Jesus Christ. What is Paul doing here? Maybe to understand what Paul is all about, we have to go back to what Jesus is all about.

The Confession of 1967, which we have been reading this fall, was written to guide the church at a time of intense conflict around race in our country. In that confession, we read the following:

God’s reconciling work in Jesus Christ and the mission of reconciliation to which [God] has called the church are the heart of the gospel in any age. Our generation stands in peculiar need of reconciliation in Christ…

In Jesus Christ, God was reconciling the world to [God]self. Jesus Christ is God with [humanity].

Again: God’s reconciling work in Jesus Christ and the mission of reconciliation to which [God] has called the church are the heart of the gospel…

Image: Jesus Christ, 6th century, Church of Saints Cosmas and Damian, Rome, courtesy of National Geographic.

[Today] we find ourselves in the book of Exodus, with the Israelites as they travel through the wilderness. This passage takes place not long after their escape from slavery, their crossing of the Red Sea (or, Sea of Reeds), and their celebration song and dance on the far shore. But only three days later, the song of victory still echoing in their memories, water problems begin. They come to a place where the water is undrinkable—it’s bitter, and Moses cries out to God for help. And God helps. About 10 days later their food supplies are dwindling, and they again complain to their leaders. And again, Moses cries out to God for help, and God supplies manna in the mornings, and pheasants in the evenings, and the people are cared for by the faithfulness of their God.

So here we are, a little later, and again—water problems….

Image: Moses Striking the Rock, from the Catacomb of Callistus, 3rd Century, Rome, Italy, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=49970 [retrieved September 15, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Moses_striking_the_rock_in_the_desert.jpg.

All over the country it is common knowledge by people looking for day labor that they can go to Home Depot early, say, six in the morning, and someone will likely come by who needs workers on a construction project. For people who don’t have access to the internet, or to dwindling local newspapers, this is their best bet. Some days everyone gets hired. Some days, only a handful will be the lucky ones. And by lucky, of course, I mean, able to feed their families for a couple of days, maybe even get the antibiotics needed for a baby’s ear infection… if they have the good fortune to have health insurance.

Jesus says, The last will be first, and the first will be last. This is not the first time in this gospel when Jesus has told his followers this disconcerting and, in many ways, upsetting news. Jesus is talking about the “kingdom of heaven,” God’s realm—that day when God will have everything exactly as God wants it. Things will be more or less upside down—upside down from the way the disciples expect things to be, and upside down from the way most 21st century people expect things to be, as well. In the previous chapter, Jesus has reminded them this in two different situations. First, he tells his followers that children are the ones to whom God’s realm belongs—not adults, not disciples, not fancy religious people with degrees and honors. And then, when Peter steps forward to ask, directly, “Then, what’s in this for us? What will we get?” Jesus summarizes it all for him by saying, many who are first will be last, and the last will be first. For those who are among the first to hear and heed Jesus’ message, and to follow him faithfully, this does not feel like good news….

Image:: JESUS MAFA. The Late-arriving Workers, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48296 [retrieved September 15, 2023]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).

This is a tough one.

“So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Forgiveness is at the heart of the gospel. There’s no way around that. And sometimes, that’s hard. It can be one of the hardest things we ever do.

So, it’s fascinating, isn’t it, that we find our way into this part of Jesus’ teachings on life in faith community through a question, asked by Peter. Peter is asking a sincere question—from the heart. How many times do I have to forgive this one person who keeps hurting me? Seven is a good number. It is one of the Biblical numbers of completeness-the week that we observe, six days of creation followed by God resting on the seventh day. Six days of work followed by Sabbath. Forgive them seven times. Is that the right number, Lord?

Image: Fetti, Domenico, approximately 1589-1623. Parable of the Wicked Servant, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55009 [retrieved September 15, 2023]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Domenico_Fetti_001.jpg.

… “Let love be genuine,” we read in our Bibles, but that is a paraphrase. Paul’s original words read literally as “Let love be un-hypocritical.” Don’t do loving things only for the sake of appearance, do them for the right reason—to be genuinely loving. Of course, this is the kind of thing that would be easier to spot in a close-knit community than any of the wider circles. And it makes me wonder: is it ever possible to have entirely pure motives?…

Image: Rossetti, Dante Gabriel, 1828-1882. Hand of Love, Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, UK, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57359 [retrieved August 9, 2023]. Original source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/birminghammag/6424308513.

…As I was thinking this week about the world into which Jesus was born,

the idea of deep darkness, of staying awake to whatever light might come,

and of keeping eyes open even when they cannot see...

I found in some of my reading a comment from a monk.

"Attentiveness to God…is eyes that are open in the dark, the desire of love."    (A Carthusian)

And then it occurred to me that keeping one's eyes open in the dark

is an act of faith.

Though we can see nothing, we do expect, in time, to see something,

whether something we have seen many times before,

or something surprisingly new.

Faith keeps us open to all the possibilities.

And we can count on God to keep all the possibilities possible!

It was into a very dark world that the Messiah was born.

The faithful kept watch…

Image: Duccio, di Buoninsegna, -1319?. Birth of Christ, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=49174 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Duccio_di_Buoninsegna_058.jpg.

As many of you know, I grew up on the Monopoly Board. I hail from a town called Ventnor, New Jersey right next to Atlantic City. I haven’t lived at the Jersey Shore since summer after I graduated college, but, except for the first year of the pandemic, I have managed to return at least once every year.

For years, the most exciting moment of the trip was when I rolled down my window to pay the last toll on the Atlantic City Expressway. We were still about five miles from the ocean, but the marshes and reeds of the Atlantic- infused inland waterway were on either side of the highway. The smell of the salt air—the smell of the ocean—was unfailingly intoxicating. There is nothing like it. There’s nothing like going home.

Seven of Jesus’ disciples have gone home. They, too, have returned to the sea—the Sea of Tiberias (another name for the Sea of Galilee). These are the days, probably the weeks after the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. In two of the gospels, Jesus has given word to the disciples that he will meet them in Galilee. So, as this story begins, the seven are gathered there…

Image: Koenig, Peter. Breakfast on the Beach, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=58541 [retrieved July 30, 2023]. Original source: Peter Winfried (Canisius) Koenig, https://www.pwkoenig.co.uk/.

Last December my family and I became captivated by a TV show called “1923,” a spin-off of the popular show “Yellowstone.” Focusing on the Dutton family, “1923” tells the stories of settlers and ranchers in Montana just before the great depression, including the wars between ranchers and those who herd sheep. It also tells the stories of Native American children who were subjected to the forced assimilation practices of the American Indian boarding schools. We see this unfold through the story of a young girl named Teonna Rainwater. The purpose of the schools was to teach these children that their native culture was wrong and disgusting, to “civilize” them by teaching them to embrace the American way of life and the dominant religion of the time, Christianity. They were forbidden to speak their native languages. They were forbidden to use the names they had been given, and forced to take new, “Christian” names. They were taught Western ways of dress, behavior, and speech through the use of brutal corporal punishment. When Teonna fails to learn the lesson of the day (making soap), she is beaten. When she disagrees with her teachers, she is beaten. When she refuses to answer to her Christian name, she is beaten.

Writers have described the show’s portrayal of these schools as, sadly, highly accurate. This kind of forced assimilation falls into the category of cultural genocide—the desire to completely wipe out a people and their culture by making them disappear into the majority populace, no longer in possession of their own customs, religion, or language.

I bring this up because there is something similarly sinister going on in our passage today from the Book of the prophet Daniel. It’s more subtle, but it is there. The three young men whose names are repeated so many times in our text—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—have been exiled to Babylon, where their captors are trying their best to take their religion, their culture, and even their names away from them…

Image: Konstantinos, Adrianoupolitis. Story of Daniel and the Three Youths in the Fiery Furnace, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59128 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Adrianoupolitis_Konstantinos_-_The_story_of_Daniel_and_the_Three_Youths_in_the_Fiery_Furnace_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.

Poor Peter. What an awful moment. During a night of abject fear and, probably, panic, he has done something that—to be honest—affects him more than anybody else. He has lost himself. He has left himself. He has gone into hiding, in a certain way. He has denied he even knew Jesus, during the long night that will lead to Jesus being strung up on a tree. And he’s done it three times.

Simon Peter is one of the most fascinating characters in the gospels. The take we find on him in the gospel according to John is different from the other three gospels, but we can still see a continuity in how the man is portrayed. He comes to life for us.

Image: Bening, Simon, 1483 or 1484-1561. Peter's Denial, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56129 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Simon_Bening_(Flemish_-_The_Denial_of_Saint_Peter_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.