Someone out of the crowd said, “Teacher, order my brother to give me a fair share of the family inheritance.” He replied, “Mister, what makes you think it’s any of my business to be a judge or mediator for you?” Speaking to the people, he went on, “Take care! Protect yourself against the least bit of greed. Life is not defined by what you have, even when you have a lot.”

Then he told them this story: “The farm of a certain rich man produced a terrific crop. He talked to himself: ‘What can I do? My barn isn’t big enough for this harvest.’ Then he said, ‘Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I’ll gather in all my grain and goods, and I’ll say to myself, Self, you’ve done well! You’ve got it made and can now retire. Take it easy and have the time of your life!’

“Just then God showed up and said, ‘Fool! Tonight you die. And your barnful of goods—who gets it?’

“That’s what happens when you fill your barn with Self and not with God.”

—Luke 12:13–21 (MSG)

In 1985 a group of theologians came together to establish what they called “a quest for the historical Jesus”. This began a movement called “The Jesus Seminar.”

Their goal was to study all of the gospels and examine Jesus’ conversations and speeches to see what patterns would emerge. Specifically, they were hoping to uncover more of what Jesus meant when he referred to the “Kingdom of God”. Most of their work focused around the parables—including the one quoted above from Luke’s gospel.

These are some of the repeating patterns they found:

• Parables begin with a real life scene.
• The stories transform into metaphors with a surprising ‘twist’.
• Jesus ‘style’ of interaction was descriptive rather than prescriptive, and most often indirect rather than direct.
• Jesus social mission was less of a ‘reactive revolt’ and more of a mission that expressed new possibilities and potential.
• Parables often cast out certainty to make room for hope.
• Parables invite the hearers to act on the basis of a new, but not yet fully defined, vision of reality.

When I take these characteristics defined by “The Jesus Seminar” and apply them to life today, Jesus’ way of encouraging us to be with one another looks something like this (at least in my mind): Real life happens—people are hurting, struggling, searching, questioning, yearning for meaning. Another person comes into the scene and engages them. They are invited to tell their story, to share their questions and their pain.

As they talk, this other person really listens, doesn’t interrupt and doesn’t judge them. Questions are asked to better understand the situation or viewpoint. Maybe there is some back and forth dialogue, but the style of interaction is receptive, inviting, caring, and sincere.

A relationship is established and now there is the possibility and potential for something new. There is no longer just “I” am here and “you” are there, but “we” are something hopeful together.

Following the parable pattern, the scenario I’ve created doesn’t necessarily end up with a perfect relationship fully realized, but there is hope. There is hope moving forward for something new because now, even among the differences that may still remain, there is some sort of mutual relationship developing.

Is this vision of God’s Kingdom on earth even possible in a world that seems to be more defined by what divides us than by what unites us?

I believe that we, the people of faith, have a big role to play in working towards a kingdom on earth where unity is built. We may not see the vision fully realized in our life, but if we believe the potential and possibility for something new is there, then, we can do the hard work of building relationships that cut across our differences.

In this anniversary year, Tarrytown United Methodist Church celebrates all that it has been as a community of faith over the past 70 years. We celebrate those who were not afraid to start a church in this neighborhood after the war when they weren’t sure who, if anyone, would come. We celebrate the courage and faith of those who have represented (and continue to represent) this church as missionaries in Africa, Honduras, Guatamala, Russia, and in Austin day in and day out. We celebrate the ministry done within these walls for children, youth and adults, and the way it has inspired generation after generation to move out into the world bringing hope and healing to others.

And, yet, we have much work to do. We have much work to do to experience the full realization of God’s Kingdom for all people on earth. How do we know we have what it takes to be the church in the next 70 years? What can we count on as we move forward into an unknown future?

Our parable from Luke’s gospel gives us some of the answer. Jesus is teaching to a crowd. And someone calls out, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” But, Jesus refuses to get involved! He turns it back to the brother and says to him: This isn’t mine to figure out. I’m not the judge or arbitrator of your relationship with your brother. You figure it out because you already have within you the tools to do it. But, be aware of greed because it’s very powerful.

Then, Jesus tells a story about a rich man whose crops grow an over-abundance of grain. He’s out of storage space. So, he ponders his dilemma and decides the solution is to build bigger barns. He can store all his goods and then just sit back and relax, eat, drink, and be merry. But, God calls this man a fool. God tells him, You will die, and then what about all the goods you stored away? What good will your greed have done you? You might be rich towards yourself in the moment, but you are not rich towards God. And if not towards God—then not towards your neighbor.

This isn’t a story to say that having possessions or wealth is a bad thing. There are places in the bible where we are encouraged to save and be good stewards of our gifts. This is a story about greed—hoarding all of what we have for ourselves and expecting Jesus to do our work of building relationships with others. Greed can mean many things. We can greedy with our possessions. We can be greedy with our positions of power. We can be greedy with our self-righteous assuredness that our way is the only way. We can be greedy sitting in our barn blaming others for all the trouble in the world.

We all have work to do. And, I don’t know exactly what that looks like. But, I do believe we have relationships to build and words to speak and actions to take that will continue to bring the kingdom of God to earth.

Reverend Shari Prestemon is the Conference Minister in the Minnesota Conference of the United Church of Christ, which is the UCC equivalent to a Bishop in the United Methodist Church. Following the shooting of Philando Castile on July 6 in a suburb of St. Paul, Minnesota, she wrote this pastoral letter to her churches:

Philando Castile was a person, not a headline. I’m sure he wasn’t perfect, but I’m equally certain his life was precious. He loved and he was loved. And now his name becomes part of that gruesome litany of names that includes Alton Sterling, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Jamar Clark, and Walter Scott.

I scarcely know what to say any more. What words can really matter in the face of what feels like an endless onslaught of senseless violence and death, against a backdrop of racism in our nation from which I benefit as a person of white privilege? And now what can one say as we wake up to the news of Dallas police officers being attacked, resulting in 5 dead and several others injured?

I really don’t have words that are adequate. But the words that have haunted me ever since I watched that horrific video of the moments after Philando Castile was shot are the ones spoken in the small voice of that four-year-old girl who’d been in the backseat of the same car where it happened.

As her mother dissolved into tears, crying out in shock and grief, that little girl sought to bring comfort with a courage far beyond her years. “It’s ok,” she told her mama, “I’m right here with you.”

There is deep wisdom in that tiny voice for all of us. Maybe our role now is to find every way we can to show those whose anger and grief are most palpable that we are indeed “right here” with them. Maybe we’re called to summon our own courage to be profoundly present in the middle of this colossal mess, to absorb the raw emotion and not walk away. Maybe our task is to avoid the temptation to jump too quickly from the pain to the healing, and rather to do the hard work that healing actually requires.

We claim faith in a God who became incarnate and lived among us, who shared intimately in our suffering and grief. We believe in a God who brings resurrecting power to the most desperate places. Let us witness to that faith now. Let us bring that same manner of profound presence and transforming love to this moment in time. Pray for the families and friends of Philando Castile and for communities filled with anger and despair, for the families of police officers killed and injured in Dallas, and for law enforcement here and everywhere.

Two weeks ago I went with the senior high youth of my church on their mission trip to St. Louis. On our last morning there, we traveled about 20 minutes outside of the city to Ferguson, Missiouri for conversation with youth and adults who live there. A week from now, on August 9, it will be 2 years since 18 year old Michael Brown was killed by a police officer and riots raged in the streets of Ferguson in the following days.

The church we met in that morning was 2 blocks from where the riots took place. There were 20 of us in all—black and white—from Madison, Wisconsin and Ferguson Missouri—the youngest youth was 10. Our group arrived early, and as the others began arriving, everyone milled around in that awkward time waiting for the program to begin.

Our five white mid-western senior high youth were glued together in one little group, and the black youth from Ferguson were glued together in their own little group. The adults made small talk—all of us a little nervous and unsure what would be expected of us in the conversation. The goal was to get to know one other—to build relationships.

Finally, the pastor convened us and we gathered in a large circle in the sanctuary chancel area where we spent two hours listening to the personal stories of the Ferguson youth, and all sharing our fears, our hopes, and our dreams.

When we had finished and were gathering ourselves to leave, I looked across the room and standing in the middle of the circle were our youth talking and laughing with the youth of Ferguson. It was a completely different scene than when we had entered the church two hours before. A glimpse of God’s Kingdom on earth on its way to being realized? Absolutely.

Anniversaries are an opportunity to celebrate all that has been built in relationship to this point, and to dream for the future. I pray for Tarrytown United Methodist Church as you enter these next 70 years. I pray that you will continue to say to each other and to the world in whatever ways God leads you: “I’m right here with you. We’re right here with you.”

Amen.