Embraced by Grace

Proper 9A-26

Immanuel Lutheran, Chicago

To what should I compare this generation?  They are like toddlers crying all the louder when they hear other children crying. Nothing satisfies them. “Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds,” Jesus said (Matthew 11:16, 18, & 19).

It is remarkable, and maybe a little depressing, how applicable Jesus’ words are to today. “Jesus describes children sitting in the marketplace making contradictory demands. John the Baptist preached an austere message of repentance, and the people complained he was possessed by a demon. Jesus invited everyone to the table for food and drink, and the people called him a glutton and a drunkard.

How often do we miss what really matters in the moment, in this time and place? “We claim to be wise and discerning, but we don’t recognize the divine when we encounter it.  God is always too much or too little for us; too severe or too generous, too demanding, or too provocative.  [Caught in the swirl of our emotions], we [like children] have little capacity to discern what is good and right and holy and true” (Debi Thomas, “A Lighter Burden,” Journey with Jesus, 6/28/20.)

Today is the 174^th anniversary of Frederick Douglass’ speech at Corinthian Hall. Douglass’ claims about the complicity of the church in perpetuating the evil of chattel slavery seem obvious to us now. Through the long lens of history, we see the same old serpent at work in and among us today. Jesus calls us today to step out from behind the innocence of childhood with regard to our history. ‘When I was a child, I spoke like a child I thought like a child; now that we are grown, we are finished with childish ways.’ (1 Corinthians 13:11).

And so, yes, we celebrate with hot dogs and fireworks. We honor the 250^th anniversary of our nation, by holding together the best and the worst, the sunny side and the underside of everything, be it an event, be it our workplace, be it our family, our congregation, or be it our own souls. Truth-telling about your country is not hatred of your country. It is the form love takes once we’ve grown up. (Cornel West)

American philosopher, theologian and Black activist, Cornel West, asserts the Revolution was “the beginning of an anti-imperial movement against the largest empire of the day,” a courageous wager that ordinary people could build arrangements where each person carries equal worth and dignity.”  [And also] …it was a courageous movement “…wedded to genocide of indigenous peoples and wedded to barbaric enslavement of my own ancestors,” West said. (Tripp Fuller, “Guilty of Our Own Innocence with Cornel West: A Sermon for America’s 250th Birthday Party,” Homebrewed Christianity, 7/4/26).

Roughly 15,000 enslaved Africans fought for the British whereas just 5,000 fought for the Americans. Why? Because the British empire offered emancipation, and the revolutionaries were not. The people with the most at stake in the promise of liberty looked at both armies and concluded that freedom was more likely to come from King George. (Fuller)

“That’s the gift Christians bring to the 250th that nobody else in the public square is carrying. We are the people who are supposed to be able to stare at a cross — an instrument of imperial execution, in case we’ve forgotten what the jewelry means — and not flinch, because we believe the truth is survivable. More than survivable. We believe it’s the doorway.” (Fuller)

Yesterday, for the 250th anniversary of American independence, roughly 400 members of the Nazi white nationalist group Patriot Front marched through the nation’s capital, some carrying Confederate flags. By contrast, what joy, has been kindled in me watching World Cup soccer fans in the U.S. Seeing our nation through their eyes renews my love for America. I am inspired, not because of their amazement at American portion sizes and air conditioning, but by the spirit of international reverie and fellowship they embody.  They are a sign of what is good, right, holy, and true that “…All people are created equal and loved by God. We hold these conflicting events together without flinching because the truth is survivable. Because truth is the door to greater wisdom and grace in the future.

It was Martin Luther’s Small Catechism which taught us to say: “I believe that I cannot by my own understanding or effort believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him.” The wise and intelligent rely upon their own abilities rather than God’s grace. They do not bear the yoke of freedom. Instead, they fashion yokes for others to shoulder life’s burdens.

The prophet Jeremiah wrote, “Thus says the Lord: Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies; and walk in it and find rest for your souls” (Jeremiah 6:16).  Our ancestors in faith have handed down two radical and distinctive ideas. The first is that being chosen by God is not an exclusive blessing as if God blesses some to the exclusion of others. No. From the very moment of creation (Genesis 1) up to and through our own baptism—the blessings of God are universal. God’s blessings are not exclusive, but rather instrumental.

God doesn’t love the ancient Hebrew people or anybody else because they are good. This truth just does not compute inside our binary, judging, competing, and comparing brains. God does not love you because you are good; God loves you because God is good, and then you can be good because you draw upon such an Infinite Source of Goodness. (Brian McLaren, “Jesus Came for Everyone,” Daily Meditations, 7/1/26)

The second radical and distinctive idea Jeremiah and others pass down to us is that God works inside human history. We are called to put our shoulders to the yoke, to engage the work of God unique to our time so that the divine commonwealth (or i.e. the kingdom) may come on earth as in heaven.

Apparently, I was an insufferable and inconsolable toddler. My nickname, coined by my uncle Norm, was ‘the mon-ster.’  Hearing these stories repeated my mom is quick to rise to my defense.  She says, ‘I was slow to wake up from a nap’, and/or ‘crabby when I was hungry’, and/or ‘ kind’a whiney when I got car sick’ which apparently, was like all the time—but finally, once the appropriate remedy could be administered, I became a lovely little child again. What was the magic cure?  It was simply to be held—preferably sitting on mama’s lap for a time put me in my right mind.

“My yoke is easy, and my burden is light,” Jesus said. “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28 & 30). The yoke Jesus describes in our gospel today is a double yoke joining two animals, side by side, in their daily labor. Is it stretching the metaphor too far? Or is the yoke to which Jesus invites us simply a way of being held? We are embraced by grace by putting on the yoke of Christ. Suddenly the storm is stilled, the whirl of anxiety, the petty passions are driven away in God’s loving embrace. Embraced by grace, we do not become super-human –we simply become more human. We become the beloved, playful, creative, honest, and loving little children to whom, Jesus said, the kingdom of God belongs.

Beloved, it is time for us to grow up. The many challenges we face are global in scale. Unlike previous generations we will not resolve them with new technology or greater military force.  They require collaboration between cultures, among religions, across ancient divides. This is what it means to grow up. It does not mean that we won’t make mistakes.  It simply means that we can hold the good and bad of history together without flinching, that we can face the challenges before us with the confidence that comes from knowing we are not alone. We may not always or often be successful, but this is how we do God’s work with our hands. “Take my yoke, I am beside you; take and learn humility.” (ACS #1017)