Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Greatest Commandments

According to Jesus, the two greatest commandments are to love God and to love your neighbor. Neither is easy. Both are necessary.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the end of the twenty-second chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 22:34-46), which describes events during Holy Week, that last week before Jesus’ crucifixion.

Jesus had been teaching in the Temple. Somewhat more accurately, he had been responding to challenges from the established religious leadership gathered in the Temple. As this passage begins, Jesus had just silenced the Sadducees, most closely associated with the Temple leadership, when they had asked a question that they thought he could not answer.

At this point, the Pharisees stepped up and they asked him a question: Which is the greatest commandment?

Jesus actually answered this question — sometimes he answered questions with questions, but he answered this one. “The greatest is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. And the second is like it, to love your neighbor as yourself.”

These are challenging commandments.

They also are found in more or less those words in the Law of the Old Testament. Jesus did not make these up.

Is it difficult to love God? It is difficult to love God with the thoroughness, with the commitment, with the loyalty of which Jesus spoke. And what about loving our neighbors as ourselves? In the passage in Leviticus from which Jesus quoted (Leviticus 19:15-18), there is more specificity to this commandment. To be protective of your neighbor, and also to correct your neighbor when they are in danger of infringing on the law.

How many of us are really willing to protect our neighbor against the dangers of the world? And how many of us will really dare risk that kind word to a neighbor to let them know that they are running afoul of trouble? Some of us do, and it’s a wonderful thing, and some of us hesitate, and it’s not such a wonderful thing.

Love God, love neighbor: the two greatest of the commandments. May we fully love one another and our maker.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Receive the Word with Joy

Paul complimented the Thessalonians for doing something so basic and so important: for receiving the word with joy. So may we.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the first chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 1:1-10). I’m actually thinking about the entire first chapter. Those ten verses are what is laid out as the passage for this coming Sunday in Revised Common Lectionary.

Paul’s custom when opening a letter was to compliment his readers, and First Thessalonians is no exception. The rest of the letter actually continued to be fairly light and loving. In some of his other letters, Paul had more difficult things to say to his correspondents. In First Thessalonians, the occasion for writing seems to have been that Paul was delayed. He had wanted and expected to come to visit. He had been prevented. And he wanted to let them know he was still on his way.

There is an interesting compliment that Paul paid them, which you might look at in a couple of different ways. He commended them for becoming imitators of us (Paul and his companions), and of the Lord (Jesus). For in spite of persecution, they had received the word with joy.

Becoming imitators of figures in the Bible can be a problem. There are plenty of attributes of Biblical heroes and heroines that I would love to imitate. And pretty much all of them have attributes that I would not care to imitate. That, in fact, includes Paul. The hubris, the pride, with which he commends them for imitating him, is probably not something that I should do, not something I should imitate.

There is, however, something that was a characteristic of Paul, and that he noticed in the Thessalonians, that I do want to imitate, and which I commend to you to imitate as well: to receive the word with joy.

It is too easy in religion, any religion, to follow the trails into all sorts of self-condemnation. Any religion has lots and lots of options for self-improvement, and in many cases, those are well-commended to you. But that’s not where we start.

We start with joy.

Paul was abundantly clear throughout his writing career and in all of his work with the churches, that God took the first step through Jesus to bring a new and deeper relationship with people —  relationship which was extended to people that nobody had thought could have that kind of relationship with God — to receive the word with joy.

So that is my advice for you today: to imitate Paul at least to that extent (try and skip the hubris). To imitate Jesus to that extent, because oh my goodness, what joy he could display in his relationship with God. Receive the word with joy and be grateful and exultant in the fact that God loves you.

Receive the word with joy and let the rest of your goodness follow from that.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: A God Who Promises

When they built the golden calf, God got very angry, but remained true to the promises that had been made to them. We worship a God who keeps promises.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the thirty-second chapter of Exodus (Exodus 32:1-14), in which Moses learned about the golden calf.

Moses had already received and delivered the Ten Commandments to the people, not the tablets of stone,. God had informed Moses of what the Ten Commandments were down in the camp. Moses in turn had communicated those commandments to the people. These were the broad outlines, the foundations of their relationship with one another and of their relationship with God. Moses had ascended the mountain to learn more, to get more detail, to get more instruction.

At the bottom of the mountain, the people got frightened with Moses gone so long. And they wanted to make their God tangible, they wanted to make their God more real. So they did what people of that age did, they made an idol. People of our age are more likely to invest or build a house or have something that they can touch.

Moses’ brother Aaron — well, he did what they asked, he made them an idol, a golden calf.

Up on the mountain, God saw it and God was angry. They have already broken all the laws that I commanded them, God said to Moses. So what I’m going to do is I’m going to leave these people to die in the wilderness and I will make a nation from you.

I imagine it might have been a tempting offer, but Moses would not go there. Moses said to God, You promised. These people know what you promised. I know what you promised. The world knows what you promised. Can you be seen as a God who does not keep divine promises? “And God changed his mind about the evil that had been prepared.”

God is a God of promises. The promises of Exodus, the promises of First and Second Samuel, the promises of Isaiah and Jeremiah and Ezekiel, the promises of Jesus. Despite what we do that hinders our covenant with God, that damages our relationship with God, despite the sins that we commit before God, God’s promises remain and God remains faithful to those promises.

It is a startling thing. What greater love could anyone have than to love through all the misdeeds and the mistakes? All the errors and omissions.

All the things that we do day-to-day to place something else between us and God might not be a golden calf, but if you think about it, you know what it is. And God loves us still.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comments section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Better Than Achievement

September 29, 2026

The Apostle Paul was proud of many things – and he came to value the love of Jesus more than any of them.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the third chapter of the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Philippians (Philippians 3:4b-14).

Paul began this section by listening some of the reasons he had for confidence. Confidence of his worth as a human being. Confidence of his place in society. Confidence of his value to God.

Paul’s first attributes were those that he was born with, that he was born amongst the people of God, the Jews. He was even born into the tribe that had provided the House of David. Some of the other attributes were things that Paul had worked for. He had studied in order to gain position amongst the Pharisees. He had exercised his zeal on behalf of the Jewish faith in trying to suppress this dangerous Christian movement. And, he wrote, as to keeping of the law he was “blameless.”

Now we might consider that Paul exaggerated a little bit. We might consider that Paul’s zeal in the light of his later conversion might not have been such a great thing. Paul’s point was that he had left all of these behind his place in the world, even his value to God because he had been embraced, and had embraced in return, Christ Jesus.

The faith of Christ Jesus said to Paul that these other things, these expected things, these ordinary things, these accomplished things of life no longer had any value relative to being accepted into the community of Jesus’ faith. To be known by Christ, to be embraced by Christ, to be called by Christ was worth far more than any of the rest.

That kind of valuing of the things of life versus the things of faith continues to be a struggle for Christians to this very day. We are told that a lot of things are important in the world, and some of it is status, and some of it is accomplishment, and some of it is wealth, and some of it is… and it goes on and on and on. It is outrageously difficult for us to look at all those things and say to ourselves, “But you know what? I’m loved by Jesus, and so the rest of this I can set aside.”

Now, the Apostle didn’t leave everything aside. His learning to become a senior person amongst the Pharisees is obvious throughout his letters. So also is the faith, the core of the faith that was taught to him as a child and as a young adult that continued to inform him all through his ministry as a Christian evangelist.

What is also abundantly clear through all his letters, not just here but everywhere, is that even as he used what he had been given, he embraced more and more fully this invitation from God that came through Jesus. He valued that far more than anything else in life.

So I suggest, may we.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Authority or Deeds

Confronted to account for his authority, Jesus refused – but he also told a story that made clear that it is what people do, not what people say they can do, that makes the difference.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the twenty-first chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 21:23-32).

The setting for this passage is one of conflict. Jesus had just entered the city of Jerusalem to the shouts of a cheering crowd acclaiming him as the Son of David. When he arrived at the temple, the priest there wanted to know by what authority he did such things.

It was a pointed and vital question. Did Jesus, indeed, claim the role and title and authority of Messiah, Anointed One, royal figure, son of David? Or was there some other authority that Jesus claimed that might not have been the same but would have explained how he could do such things and expect not to be held accountable for them?

Jesus turned the question on its head. He asked about the baptism of John, was that of divine or human origin? The priests refused to answer because either answer they would give would put them in difficulties with someone: either the people or the Roman authorities. Jesus then said, “Well then, I will not tell you by what authority I do these things.”

He followed up with a story about a father and two sons, and the father asked the sons to go out and work in the field. One said, “Yes,” and didn’t go. One said, “No,” but did. Which one did what he was asked? The answer, of course, was the one who said, “No,” but did the work.

Jesus’ point was as obvious as any of Jesus’ stories ever are: Talk is cheap. Words are cheap. Obvious authority is cheap. What counts is what you do.

And that was true for Jesus just as it was for the priests who no doubt recognized themselves in the one who said, “Yes,” and didn’t go. At least they know Jesus was accusing them of that. Jesus himself, by the end of that week, would be placed in a situation where he not only said, “Yes,” he went and followed the path that led to the cross. Jesus said, “Yes,” and went.

So for us, if we are to be followers of Jesus, what we say is important, but not nearly as important as what we do. Will we follow the example, will we follow the call, will we follow the one who said, “Yes,” and did the hardest thing for our sake and for the sake of the world?

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Unfair Love

Jesus’ story about every worker getting the same wage makes no sense in the business world – but it does make sense in the love world.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the twentieth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 20:1-16) Jesus’ story that we usually give the title, “The Laborers in the Vineyard.”

On its surface, an easy, if somewhat puzzling, story. Jesus described a vineyard owner who went out to find workers for the day. He went to the marketplace early, found some folks who were available. They went to work in the vineyard and were promised a denarius, which was the usual daily wage for a laborer.

But this landowner went out several times. He even went as late as about five o’clock in the afternoon, not long before the work had to end because of darkness. And each time he found people and sent them off to work.

When the sun had gone down, he gathered everybody up and had those who had arrived the latest receive their wages first. They received a denarius. Those at the end of the line who had worked the whole day, they also received a denarius, and were angry. Because they had worked much longer, why should they receive exactly the same wage?

The landowner replied, “My money is mine to do with it as I like. Are you upset because I am generous?”

As a story of business and economics, I suspect that anybody who taught in a business school would say this is not the way to do it. Among other things, it means that you’re paying expenses that you probably shouldn’t. It also means that some of your workers are angry with you about the way you treat other workers. It isn’t fair.

As is common in Jesus’ stories, it’s the place that somebody departs from the ordinary and the expected that we typically find the point that Jesus was trying to make. And in this case, it is that unexpected and extravagant generosity: that each person who worked in the vineyard, no matter how long, received the same amount. They received what they needed to live on.

Is it a model for business? Probably not. Is it a model for salvation? I think so. In the end, what can God give us that is more than salvation? If we arrive in the vineyard — that is, if we make the effort to participate in the community of God — what more can God give us than membership in that community? There isn’t anything more.

I think also, however, this is a model for relationships. It’s also something that we know.

We labor to try and treat our children fairly, but we do not treat them equally. Because one has skills and talents the other does not. That same one has needs that the other does not. And so we spend our time focusing on the things that they need or spend our time focusing on the things that they accomplish and that time will be different from one child to the next. We are perhaps not fair, not absolutely even-handed in our love for our own children, because it would be wrong to treat all human beings as if they were exactly the same.

Love can’t be absolutely fair. Love has to respond to what is. Love has to reveal what might be.

Jesus, I’m sure, in part spoke of the love of God here. The love of God is what it is and it is shared equally. And that may not seem fair, but that is what it is. And our love, we’re also called upon to respond to the needs and to rejoice in the successes of those we love, as they occur, but also in such a way that all know that they are loved.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Judgment and Spirit

In a community made up of people from different religious backgrounds, the temptation to judge was hard to resist. Paul urged them to resist.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the fourteenth chapter of the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Romans (Romans 14:1-12).

The Roman church was made up of people from quite startlingly different backgrounds. Some had been raised as Jews, others had been raised in the traditions and religions of Rome, Greece, Egypt, and for that matter, many other cultures around the Mediterranean world. They brought very different assumptions about what a faith life was supposed to be like.

Christianity, originating as it did as a reform movement within Judaism (and indeed continuing to attempt to be a reform movement within Judaism in Paul’s lifetime), nevertheless welcomed folks from these other traditions and expectations. And Christianity did not fully endorse or fully reject religions and religious ideas of Judaism or Greece or of Rome. There was a lot to learn and to adapt to and to reframe for both those coming from Judaism and those coming from other faiths.

As a result, they were feeling at their way through the expectations of this new religion that they were calling the Way of Jesus.

Also as a result, they were criticizing one another, and sometimes fairly harshly.

Paul’s advice was, “Do not judge one another.” Those who observe in one way, well, they observe these things in faithfulness to God. And those who do other things to observe, they do those things also in faithfulness to God. It is God who is going to judge in the end. It is not up to us to judge one another.

Well, it is certainly true that a society without any kind of judgment or discernment rapidly draws into chaos as people do this, that, and the other thing. It is also true that the apostle Paul deeply disliked chaos and, as we noted from last Sunday’s reading, had some pretty firm notions on things that were to be done and things that were not to be done. But in matters of faithful observance, Paul was far more willing to let God be the judge of the heart, to let God be judge of the intent, to let God be judge of the devotion, than to permit Christians to run around willy-nilly judging one another.

Leave that to God, said Paul, and in such a way we can build a religious community together that is supportive rather than a religious community that drags one another down.

“Do not judge your brother or your sister,” wrote Paul. We will all be accountable to God, and that is more than enough.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking.Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Draw Closer

Moses took an important step – quite literally – when he saw the burning bush. He turned aside to look closer, and that is how the conversation with God began.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the third chapter of the book of Exodus (Exodus 3:1-15), Moses’ encounter with God over a bush that was burning and not consumed.

It’s the very beginning of the story that strikes me at this time. Moses was out doing a very ordinary thing. He was keeping watch over a flock of sheep. He saw the burning bush. He observed that it was not burning up. He said, “I must turn aside and see this thing and find out more why isn’t the bush being consumed.” That was what began the conversation with God.

It strikes me that what Moses did was to get closer to look deeper, to go and learn more than he had known. And that, it strikes me, is an essential element of life and of faith. Learn more.

It just isn’t enough to see that there is a bush on fire in the wilderness. It’s just not enough to make the further observation that it’s not burning quite as one would expect. It takes another step. It takes turning aside. It takes drawing closer to find out what is going on.

It’s a skill that is sort of unevenly taught in our educational system. At the very youngest levels, of course, you don’t teach that so much, because it is important to teach young children the very basics of what makes up a world and how people should live together in community.

But as we go on in education, it should be and it can be (in some places it is) stressed that we need to look further. We need to go deeper. We need to learn more.

So don’t accept the first thing that anybody tells you. It might be right. Quite possibly is right. But you won’t know and you won’t know more until you look closer, go deeper, learn more.

Do that in faith, do that in life, do that in family, do that in relationships. Go closer, look deeper.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: A Little Humility

The apostle advised his readers to do the will of God as best they could – but also to be aware that they did not, could not know everything.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the twelfth chapter of the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Romans (Romans 12:1-8).

Paul wrote that we should present ourselves in our bodies as a sacrifice to the living God, by which I’m fairly certain that he meant that all our deeds, our actions, and our words ought to be done with some notion of fulfilling the will of God, at least as best we understand it. Paul followed that with a caution, not to think too well of ourselves, which is very much a temptation if we see ourselves as following and enacting the will of God.

It is, I think, some of the most honest advice that the Apostle Paul ever wrote in his letters. I’m pretty sure that his besetting temptation was, in fact, arrogance. The temptations to think that he knew more than he did, to proclaim more than he knew. You can see it in a number of places in the letters, both where the Apostle Paul recognized it and drew back from it, and the places where he didn’t recognize it and did it anyway.

That’s advice that is good for Paul’s time, for Paul. It’s advice that is good for our time, for us, for me.

First of all, to be cautious about what we claim to know, to be careful about the things that we say, to make certain that we identify our opinions as opinions, our faith as faith, and to maybe not declare it quite so firmly as established fact. By all means, bring out that which supports your opinions, but know also that there is far more to know than any of us can know.

And of course, that first point still remains an excellent challenge for all of us, to strive to do that which God has called us to do, to love our neighbors as ourselves, to love God with all our heart and soul and mind.

Romans twelve. Romans eight is, by far, my favorite in this letter, but there are good words here to guide us in each day of our lives.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you are thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Part of the Renewed Nation

Who is included in God’s vision of community? More people than we tend to think.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the fifty-sixth chapter of the book of Isaiah (Isaiah 56:1, 6-8).

Isaiah appears to have been an assembled work. There’s a lengthy section that is primarily the work of a prophet named Isaiah, who lived in Jerusalem in the 700s before Jesus. There’s also a lengthy insertion, which is literally copied from the book of Second Kings. And then beginning about chapter 40, we get another writer.

Isaiah scholars believe that this one appears to have been an exile in Babylon, so hundreds of years after the initial Isaiah. He brought different concerns, and he brought a different sense of God’s promises. This part of chapter 56 is concerned with the restoration of the nation, which had been conquered by the Babylonians in 587. And here in chapter 56, it’s very clear that Isaiah expressed God’s promise that the exile people would at some time be able to come home.

But would there be anyone with them?

This portion of chapter 56 is very clearly answering the question, “Could others then Jews become a faithful part of the restored nation?” God’s answer was a clear, unequivocal, “Yes.” Those who wanted to be a part of the community and who would act according to its rules and its standards and its laws: they would be welcome. They could come and sacrifice in the rebuilt temple of God, and their prayers would be heard.

I don’t need to tell anybody that these are fractious days, days in which division and separation is very much the way of things. If you look through the Scriptures, you will find plenty of support for the notion that we should be separating people into little bits and bobs of communities. But Isaiah heard from God that that was not how it had to be, and many years later, along came Jesus, who in a conversation with a foreigner initially rejected her plea for healing, for her daughter, but was persuaded, was persuaded, and let his power find its way to a sick little girl.

Which will we choose? Will we choose the fractures of division and embrace the ways of dissension, even hatred, or will we be persuaded as Jesus was, as Isaiah was, to welcome the stranger and celebrate with them, and all of us together be faithful to God?

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.