Sermons & Meditations

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
Presented July 27, 2008, by J.D. Kline
The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Years ago, as our family traveled several times a year from Fort Wayne to eastern Pennsylvania for visits with extended family, we became accustomed to our children asking a common question, Are we there yet? My memory is that we were seldom far from our driveway before the questioning began. And I rather suspect that there are few parents of growing children here this morning who have not encountered this very same question, Are we there yet?, whether the trip is across town or across country.

Truth be told, while our children may verbalize the question far more frequently, the asking of this question is not limited to our early years of life. In the spiritual journey, the kingdom or realm of God often seems elusive, so much so that we sometimes question whether the vision of kingdom living is a genuine possibility at all; we wonder if there is any sense in which we arrive at our destination. The coming of that day when justice and peace prevail, when all manner of people gather at the Lord’s table, when nations no longer teach the ways of war and violence, when we fully embody the compassionate and self-giving way of living Jesus envisioned when proclaiming life in the kingdom of God—all of this seems far from our reach, and the question, Are we there yet?, may well become for us something of a lament.

How long, O Lord?, the psalmist cries out on a number of occasions. “Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing,” cries the writer of Psalm 6. “My soul is struck with terror, while you, O Lord—how long?” The sense of the question is Where are you, God? Are you listening at all? The thirteenth psalm begins with a similar cry, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” (13:1-2). And in a plea for justice for the weak, the orphan, and the forgotten, the writer of the eighty-second psalm complains that it is as if God favors those who manifest evil. “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked? . . . Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked” (82:2, 4).

(more…)

Matthew 13:24-30,36-43
Presented July 20, 2008, by J.D. Kline
The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

We had a neighbor some years ago whose lawn was immaculate—perfectly trimmed, evenly mowed, seldom even a stray leaf to disturb the smooth pattern. But the overall effect of the landscaping was rather stark. The lawn was too pristine, if that is possible. The homeowner had no trees in her lawn, presumably to save her the task of raking in the fall, and she seemed rather adept at making surrounding neighbors feel responsible for any leaves that might blow into her yard. The yard had a number of evergreens, but few blooming plants; one could only assume that she feared the blossoms might leave too much residue. We used to joke that she somehow knew where the weeds were going to emerge, long before they appeared, so weed-free was her lawn.

Try as we may to have it otherwise, weeds, and the inconvenience they cause, are a part of life. It’s one thing to try to keep our yards and gardens and flowerbeds neat and as weed-free as possible; it’s quite another when we attempt to live our lives as if they are “weed-free,” denying the reality of struggle, pain, uncertainty, and brokenness, acting as if it is our God-given right to lead lives in which disturbing events never come our way. And yet, truth be told, who among us does not encounter weeds in the midst of our daily living? In the imagery of this morning’s Gospel lesson, do we not find our own lives to be a peculiar mix of wheat and weeds?

(more…)