2022 10 30 Sermon
Noticing Christ
Reformation Sunday
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
Luke 19:1-10
105 years ago my great-grandfather, Charles John Stone, a Swedish immigrant to McKeesport, Pennsylvania (near Pittsburgh), gathered with members of Elim Lutheran Church. October 31st, 1917 was a celebration of the 400th anniversary of the day Martin Luther posted his “95 Theses Against the Sale of Indulgences” to the door (which was essentially the public message board of the town) of the Castle Church, in Wittenberg, Germany. My Great-Grandpa Charlie played the organ that day in 1917, to lead the congregation in singing Martin Luther’s famous hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”. The people who attended were given a commemorative coin (which you see pictured on the screen), of Luther with a scroll in one hand, and a hammer in the other, standing at the church door.
On the reverse of the coin is Luther’s famous quote, spoken in 1521 in front of God, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, representatives of the Pope, and many interested onlookers both friendly and hostile, when he was asked to recant, to take back everything he’d been teaching and preaching. “Here I stand,” he said. “I cannot do otherwise. God help me.”
Why did Luther put his neck on the line for a new way (but in some ways also an older way) of understanding how God works, when there was so much pressure to back down? He had been studying Paul’s letter to the Romans in the New Testament, and noticed anew a teaching at the heart of the Bible that appeared to have been forgotten by many: God’s forgiveness and grace could not be bought or sold like a commodity or transaction—it was offered freely to all by Christ alone, who gave himself on the cross for our forgiveness, and rose again to bring us to salvation.
While Luther did not start out with any intentions that day in 1517 of starting “The Reformation of the Church”, he did have an interest in Biblical scholarship, teaching, and preaching in a way that would help people to be able to see Christ more clearly in their everyday lives.
Zacchaeus had a similar interest. We hear about him in today’s gospel from Luke 19, and how he heard that Jesus would be passing through his town, Jericho. But Zacchaeus didn’t just want to be in the same vicinity as Jesus. He wanted to see him, to see who he was, what he was about. But Zacchaeus was short in stature, a “wee little man”, and couldn’t see above the crowd that had gathered. So he climbed up a sycamore tree, to get a better look.
I wonder if Zacchaeus’ reputation, as well as his physical appearance, was well-known? He was a chief tax collector—a position absolutely despised by the masses of people. And yet he defies the stereotypes people had of him. He was generous with his resources. He gives half of his possessions to the poor. If he defrauds anyone, he restores the loss fourfold. When Jesus sees him in the tree, he notices him as a person, not just a stereotype, and offers an invitation: “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” So Zacchaeus “hurried and came down and received him joyfully.”
If Jesus was looking for an unpopular thing to do, he sure found it, as the crowd grumbled about Jesus being a houseguest of someone they considered to be a notorious sinner. Yet by inviting Zacchaeus to climb down from the tree and host Jesus in his own house, Jesus was embodying and enacting a teaching at the heart of the Bible: God’s forgiveness and grace and salvation are not bought or sold like a commodity or transaction. They are offered freely to all through Christ, even to people we might think don’t deserve it. God’s forgiveness and grace are received by anyone who is happy to welcome it. “Today salvation has come to this house!” Jesus said to Zacchaeus. Because Jesus noticed him, and went out of his way to put himself in the place where Zacchaeus lived, he was able to get beyond whatever stereotypes the people in Jericho may have had. Jesus was stretching people’s mindset, to help them realize that he is present among people and places that they hadn’t noticed before.
About 25 years ago, my dad took the family to McKeesport. He had visited many times while growing up, but hadn’t been back in years. The location was the same, with the Monongahela River flowing past the old steel mills, and one steep hill covered with one steep street after another. But in many ways it was a completely different town. We found the old fire station, which still had its World War One honor roll posted on the wall outside—but that station was no longer in use. We found the old Elim Lutheran Church, still standing but long empty, sitting in an old neighborhood that felt long-forgotten. There is a sadness in seeing places that once were full of life now sitting quietly, a shadow of what they used to be. But that old fire station was obsolete by modern standards, so the town built a new one to better serve the community. Elim Lutheran Church had merged many years earlier with another congregation to become Faith Lutheran Church, and they built a new building in a different part of town. There is death and resurrection to be found, and Christ is in all of it, if you choose to look; if you notice.
We visited McKeesport picturing an old map of town in our minds. But as life went on over the decades, that community had drawn a new map for the way people lived now. If all we kept looking at was the old map, we would miss a lot of things. Like: where did the current residents work, play, go to school, go to church, or turn for emergency response? When the Swedish immigrants left their old neighborhood, where did they build new homes, and who were the new neighbors who moved into their houses? The view changes over time.
During our House of Prayer 50th Anniversary celebration in July, Pastor Natterstad spoke about his years here; how he used to look out the windows at corn fields. House of Prayer was a church in the country! Now we are firmly planted in a suburb that is growing up all around us. How has the view changed? What do you notice every day? What do you overlook? What have you seen so often that you don’t even notice anymore?
I’ve mention a few times the Faithful Innovation process that our church has just begun participating in. We have a great team put together, and they’re calling themselves “HOP Outside the Box”. Three weeks ago, they got together with over 60 other people from churches around our Greater Milwaukee Synod up at Marquette, and one of the things they had a great time doing was drawing a map of the community surrounding our church. Like Zacchaeus who wanted to see Christ more clearly; like Martin Luther who wanted to help people see Christ more clearly; we can see Christ more clearly by seeing our community more clearly. Jesus is already out there, everywhere, all around us, present within the people we meet and the people we’ve yet to meet. Wherever he is, Jesus is seeking and saving, by freely offering God’s grace and forgiveness to all.
So for us, drawing a map, filling in the details—these are ways of learning to notice anew our community; to notice anew what God might be up to. Our “HOP Outside the Box” team invites you to help fill in the details of the map after worship, on the table set up in the coffee area. Now, it’s not to scale, and we can add more paper around the edges, so don’t be shy. Because this is a way for us to learn how to notice anew where Christ is present; a way for us to participate in listening for God, and looking for what God is up to, as we offer ourselves as good neighbors in the way of Jesus. Amen.