Guerrillas of Grace

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling                            

Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace: “Precious Lord, grant me a sense of humor that adds perspective to compassion, gratitude that adds persistence to courage, quietness of spirit that adds irrepressibility to hope, openness of mind that adds surprise to joy; that with gladness of heart I may link arm and aim with the One who saw signs of your kingdom in salt and yeast, pearls and seeds, travelers and tax collectors, sowers and harlots, foreigners and fishermen, and open my eyes with these signs and my ears with the summons to follow to something more of justice and joy.”

Lately, I have needed an attitude adjustment, almost on a daily basis. Despite the bright blue sky overhead, occasionally I have felt like Linus in that cartoon series called Peanuts. A rain cloud will appear over me no matter where I walk. And I have walked plenty of places: flat surfaces, hills, valleys, and beaches. Rural places, suburbs, and cities around our world. And what do I see? Not the beauty of God’s creation but the ugliness of humanity. It is all in my head, and not in my eyes. I need an attitude adjustment.

I like Ted Loder’s title “Guerrillas of Grace” for many reasons. Guerrilla warfare is occupying my brain. I need grace! That undeserved and unmerited love of God for everyone and everything, even me. The pandemic and politics have limited my viewpoints, narrowed my perspective, and pulled me into a shell of isolation. I need to look beyond the barricades. I need to link “arms with the One who saw signs of God’s kingdom” everywhere, and then ask God for an attitude adjustment. “Grant me a sense of humor that adds perspective to compassion, gratitude that adds persistence to courage, quietness of spirit that adds irrepressibility to hope. Open my eyes and mind; help me follow You and find justice and joy.”

Despite his age, Moses still had plenty of vigor, and so he climbed Mount Nebo to be alone with God. There, from that vantage point, he could see farther than the plains of Moab. He saw valleys, the Mediterranean Sea, the Jordan River, and palm trees offering shade in the desert. He saw cities, both great and small, that dotted the landscape. There, he had a vision of God’s promises. He saw a land of opportunity. He imagined a future with many good things.

Centuries later, Jesus walked this very land. He saw “signs of God’s kingdom in salt and yeast, pearls and seeds, travelers and tax collectors, sowers and harlots, foreigners and fishermen.” He brought justice and joy with Him everywhere He went, promising good things, not just on the sunny days of summer, but also in the dark times of winter. Even though ploughshares were beaten into swords and pruning hooks into spears, Jesus brought peace to the middle east.

“You will see God’s grace,” Jesus said. Just open your eyes to “see God’s hand at work in the world about you.” And so, today, I link arms with God, and look for the guerillas of grace all around me. I pray for an attitude adjustment once again.

Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace: “Eternal Friend, grant me an ease to breathe deeply of this moment, this light, this miracle of now. Beneath the din and fury of great movements and harsh news and urgent crises, make me attentive still to good news, to small occasions, and the grace of what is possible for me to be, to do, to give, to receive, that I may miss neither my neighbor’s gift nor my enemy’s need.

Deuteronomy 34:1-12: Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho, and the Lord showed him the whole land. Moses was one hundred twenty years old when he died; his sight was unimpaired and his vigor had not abated.

Speechless

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling                

Matthew 22:1-14:    Once more Jesus spoke to the people in parables, saying: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Speechless

We’re hearing a lot of speeches these days by people in power, by people with strong opinions, and by people who have become harsh in their criticism of others. Sometimes, I wish they would just shut up. There is an acronym “SMH” which means “shaking my head.” Sometimes we’re rendered speechless. We see things we can’t believe. We hear things we wish we hadn’t. Tempted, we may respond in kind. Enraged, weeping and gnashing our own teeth in disgust, we want to throw people into the outer darkness, or under the bus. Sometimes, I can only SMH.

It’s always a question in my mind as to whether or not I should speak up or remain silent. Is it anger or fear or gratitude or amazement that opens or shuts my mouth?  Like the king I can become enraged, most especially at “isms”, injustices, prejudice, and inequalities. “Do I need to hit the mute button before I react?” I ask myself. Am I afraid of retribution? Is this the time to speak up even though my knees are shaking and my voice is quivering?

In this parable told by Jesus, I wonder who “he” is. Was it the king who was speechless, after he had invited his friends and honored guests to the wedding banquet, and they didn’t come? Perhaps the king was angry that his generosity had been met with disrespect, that people were “too busy” to come to the party, and that his slaves had been killed? They made light of this significant event; and now this man from the streets wasn’t wearing the right clothes. Was the king speechless in his disbelief?

Or was “he” the man without the wedding robe? The one who had been invited by the king’s servants to join the party? I imagine that he was delighted to be there, enjoying a feast of royal delights and well-aged wine! Why then might “he”, the man without a wedding robe, be rendered speechless at the appearance of his host? I would think that he would gush with praise, bow down with respect, and offer words of gratitude, unless of course his mouth was full of fatted calf. Or he was afraid. Then he might be speechless.

People in royal garb can intimidate us. Some call it “power-dressing” others call it “fitting clothes” for their leadership positions. Powerful people can render us cautious as well as speechless. Suddenly in their presence, we may find ourselves bowing and scraping, fawning and obsequious, kissing rings and kissing up. We offer effusive words of praise, that are as empty in nutritional value as cotton candy, or we just stay silent.

When asked a simple question, like “how did you get in here dressed like that?” the man at the wedding banquet couldn’t answer. Perhaps he never expected to see the king at all, and when he suddenly found himself in his presence, he choked. Maybe he was rendered speechless out of fear. Or maybe it was the mystery and awe of this royal power that had him shaking in his boots, dropping to his knees, and silencing his quivering heart.

Apparently, this guest stood out in the crowd because he was dressed differently than the others. The king “called him out” but why did he call him "friend"? “Just go out on the streets and invite everyone to the party,” the king had told his servants. What exactly did he expect? Who did he think was coming to dinner? The good, the bad, and the ugly, Jesus told us. In light of that, doesn’t the king's response to this man’s wardrobe seem a little harsh?

Here’s what I think. I believe that God does become enraged by our bad behavior; and yet, in the end, God preserves our life. Stretching out his arms of love on that hardwood of the cross, Jesus invited everyone to the party. Then, when we find ourselves in that royal  banquet hall, on that holy mountain where there is a rich feast of select foods and choice wines, our disgrace will be removed, and our tears will be dried by God. “Don’t worry about what you’re wearing,” Jesus will say to us, as we will kneel in wonder, love, and praise. With hearts filled with love, we will be speechless in the presence of God.

Matthew 25:27-28:    Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you.

Isaiah 25:6-8:    On this mountain, the Lord of heavenly forces will prepare for all peoples a rich feast, a feast of choice wines, of select foods rich in flavor, of choice wines well refined. He will swallow up on this mountain the veil that is veiling all peoples, the shroud enshrouding all nations. He will swallow up death forever. The Lord God will wipe tears from every face; he will remove his people’s disgrace from off the whole earth, for the Lord has spoken.

Wild Grapes in the Vineyard

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling                   

Isaiah 5:1-7

Let me sing for my beloved

my love-song concerning his vineyard:

My beloved had a vineyard

on a very fertile hill.

He dug it and cleared it of stones,

and planted it with choice vines;

he built a watchtower in the midst of it,

and hewed out a wine vat in it;

he expected it to yield grapes,

but it yielded wild grapes.

 Psalm 80:7-14

 7 Restore us, O God of hosts; *

show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.

 8 You have brought a vine out of Egypt; *

you cast out the nations and planted it.

 9 You prepared the ground for it; *

it took root and filled the land.

 10 The mountains were covered by its shadow *

and the towering cedar trees by its boughs.

11 You stretched out its tendrils to the Sea *

and its branches to the River. 

12 Why have you broken down its wall, *

so that all who pass by pluck off its grapes?

 13 The wild boar of the forest has ravaged it, *

and the beasts of the field have grazed upon it.

 14 Turn now, O God of hosts, look down from heaven;

behold and tend this vine; *

preserve what your right hand has planted. 

The imagery in these passages is ripe, fruitful, and evocative. There is a vineyard on a fertile hill. Picture it. There is a worker digging up stones and planting vines. This beloved worker creates a watchtower which offers us perspective and a vision of things to come. After a while, the hard labor bears fruit; and the wine vat reminds us that some things need to be pressed in order to create new spirits. The beloved worker expected a good harvest; and yet the grapes were wild! “Why was that?” the prophet asked.

The psalmist reminds us that God was the Creator of this vineyard; and that God is also the beloved worker. God had invited God’s people to be co-creators and co-laborers in God’s vineyard. At first, the vines of God’s people stretched out their tendrils to the sea; they extended their branches from deep roots. Mountains and trees provided shade. Rivers and seas ran clear; and yet God’s precious grapes ran wild. They set God’s teeth on edge.

God expected peace in the land and yet saw bloodshed. God expected love and saw hate. God expected justice and mercy; and yet the scales in their courts routinely tipped out of balance. The country had become overgrown with briars and thorns. Hedges that had once protected the fruit were trampled down. Boundaries were frequently violated. People plucked the fruit of other people’s labors without permission; and wild beasts roamed the streets, ravaging the hard work of those who had planted seeds in the vineyard.

At this moment in history, back then and even today, the vineyard is not a pretty picture. There is a drought in New England, fires on the west coast, hurricanes in the south, and windstorms that sweep across the plains. The climate control switch has been turned off; and the vineyard has become a desolate wasteland. It is filled with fearful people struggling to breathe.

Indeed, the reality of injustice, violence, lawlessness, and inequality was evident in the disordered lives and chaos. People became sick. They were sick and tired of being sick and tired.“Why is this happening?” the prophet asked. “Who is to blame? And who will help us?” they shouted at God. “You made us. You planted us. You can stop this,” they demanded.

When life and our world seem to be spinning out of control, we can begin with prayer. Like the psalmist, we can ask God to “Restore us, O God of hosts; show us the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.” Save us, even if it is from ourselves and from our own doing. “Turn now, O God of hosts, look down from heaven; behold and tend this vine; preserve what your right hand has planted.”

Please help us, we pray to the distant landowner, to the Son who was crucified, and to the Spirit who empowers us to tend the vineyard. Please help us, we pray to the One who gives life, one breath at a time.

 Matthew 21:33-46

Jesus said, “Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.” So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”