THE TRUTH ABOUT JESUS

Last Sunday after the Epiphany—February 14, 2010

Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12—4:2; Luke 9: 28-36 (37—43)

Today is the Last Sunday after Epiphany.  Epiphany is the season of our church year that began six weeks ago with wise men following a star.  And today it ends with a transfigured Jesus on top of a mountain.  Epiphany comes from the Greek word “Epiphaneia” meaning “manifestation” or “appearing.”  During Epiphany we’re shown all the ways that the truth about Jesus is revealed.  

Today’s lessons show us how to receive, reflect and respond to the truth about who Jesus really is.

First, in the Gospel for today, we learn how to receive the truth about Jesus. The disciples have that truth revealed to them on top of a mountain.  And it happens in the context of prayer. Jesus invites them to go up with him on the mountain to pray. There they see their Master change right before their eyes. His face is transformed and even his clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear with him, representing the Law and the Prophets. That part alone had tremendous meaning for them. The disciples are suddenly awakened to the truth of who Jesus. really is. They hear a voice from a cloud say, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”    

Lucy Pratt tells us:

A common thread… of all the mountaintop experiences is prayer.  Prayer forms the central context of salvation in the Gospel of Luke.  Jesus prays before he chooses the Twelve (Luke 6:12).  He’s in prayer in today’s text, as he is about to be transfigured….the disciples may have missed the point on other occasions, but they were bright enough to understand that the right relationship with God the Father involves prayer….Prayer (she says) is the ultimate action of lifting up our spirit to meet God’s will…It’s a time when we can experience some revelation, some word from the Lord..[1]     

Prayer is one of the best ways that we receive the truth about who Jesus is.  And that’s because it’s one of the few times in our busy lives that we get quiet enough and still enough to “listen to him.”  Prayer is always a two-way conversation.  We not only speak to our Lord from the heart during prayer but we also listen, receiving the truth.      

Then we’re called to reflect that truth, we’ve received. When Moses experienced God face to face, his own face was so shiny that no one could bear to look at it.  The skin of his face seemed to be permeated with the glory of God.  It was so bright that people were afraid of him and Moses had to veil his face.   

Our own faces reflect our experiences in life as well as our feelings about those experiences. I’m reminded of a children’s song.  It’s one you all know. And it goes like this:

If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands.

If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands.

If you’re happy and you know it,

Then your face will surely show it

If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands.

The line that’s relevant for our purposes is:  “If you’re happy and you know it, then your face will surely show it.”  Because human faces do reveal the truth about our experiences. If we’re working twenty-four seven under stressful conditions, our faces will show it.  If we’re worried about finances or health, our faces reflect that inner condition.  On the other hand, if we’ve just had a powerful experience of the power and presence God, our faces reflect that as well.           

Christian faces are meant to reflect the joy of knowing Christ.  But since we’re only human, that’s not always the case.  Our faces don’t always glow.  More often they reveal our irritation at waiting in traffic, our anger at the boss, or our impatience with the children. Maybe we all need to remember what one old preacher said, “If you’re really redeemed, would you please notify your face!” 

We all have to grow into the kind of faith that gives us joyful faces. I know that I’m not there all the time.  So Paul’s words for today comfort me.  He reminds us that growing into the full stature of Christ is a process. In his second letter to the Corinthians he says, “And all of us with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of God, …..are being transformed into the same image.”  We’re being transformed until our faces can reflect the truth about Jesus to everyone we meet.    

This brings us to our response.  After we’ve received the truth about Jesus and reflected that truth, we’re meant to respond to it with action. We’re to demonstrate what we believe by sharing Christ’s love with others.  Today is Valentine’s Day.  It’s a day we celebrate by giving gifts to people we love. We may give a card or candy or flowers to someone we like or love.  But have you ever wondered why we call this occasion Valentine’s Day?

It’s because of a saint with that name. Valentine is the name of a saint, who is on the calendar of saints in the Catholic Church.  And there are several stories about him and about how Valentine’s Day got started.

One story says that Valentine was a priest in Rome during the third century.  Emperor Claudius the Second decided that men would make better soldiers if they weren’t married. So he passed a decree making it illegal for soldiers to marry. Valentine thought this was wrong, so he secretly performed marriages for the soldiers and those that they loved.  When Claudius found out, he had Valentine put to death. 

Another story says that Valentine was killed for trying to help Christians escape from the brutal Roman prison system. In that system, they were made to suffer because of their belief in Christ.  A third story says that Valentine fell in love while he himself was in prison.  There he wrote a note to his love signing the letter, “from your Valentine.”   

No matter which story is true, they all have a common theme.  Valentine responded to the truth about Jesus with a self-sacrificing ministry of love. In spite of great difficulties, he ministered to those who were needy because he knew that Christ first loved us.      

Today is the end of my ministry here.  I hope that in some small way, I’ve received his truth,  reflected his truth, and responded to his truth in loving action.  I know that I’ve certainly seen that in all of you.  Paul seems to sum up our time of ministry together with these words:  “Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart…We refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to everyone in the sight of God.”  

UNEXPECTED WISDOM

Epiphany 4C—January 31, 2010

Jeremiah 1:4-10; Psalm 71:1-6; 1 Corinthians 13:1-13; Luke 4:21-30

Mark Gafni tells a story about wisdom coming from unexpected sources:

 It seems that the Master Shmelke of Nikolsburg had become good friends with his coach driver.  One day the coach driver said to him, “You know, I’ve driven you to many speeches. You say very beautiful things. Moreover, you say the same beautiful things every time. Not only that, but people ask the same questions all the time, and you always give the same answer.  I actually know your entire speech by heart. Perhaps the next time we come to a new town where they don’t recognize you, we could change clothes and I could be the master and you the coachman. 

Well the master thought it was a fine idea, and that is what they did the very next week. Dressed as the master, the coachman gave the speech—very beautifully.  Dressed as the coachman, the master watched the horses.

After the usual round of questions, a young boy raised his hand and asked a very deep question that the coachman had never heard before.  Having no idea what to answer, he thought seriously for a moment.  Then he looked up at the boy. “Your question appears, to the untrained ear to be very difficult,” he said.  “However it is really so simple that even my coachman can answer it. Let’s call him now!”[1] 

In today’s Gospel, the people of Nazareth weren’t expecting wisdom to come from Jesus.  After all he was one of the hometown boys.  Of course they had heard of all the wonderful things he’d done in Capernaum.  But they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes. Now he appears at the local synagogue to read and make commentary on the lesson. And they are curious to see what he is going to say.  

First he read the words of Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me…to bring good news to the poor….to proclaim release to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.   Then he told them that the prophecy was being fulfilled in their hearing.  (Luke 4:18-19)   

This “Jubilee message” in Isaiah would form the core of his ministry. The only verse of Isaiah that Luke leaves out is the verse about “the day of vengeance of our God.”  The God Jesus incarnates is not about vengeance.  Instead God is about freeing those who are slaves to sin and death.  God is about healing love.

At first the people were very impressed. From his brothers and sisters sitting up close, to proud aunts and uncles, and co-workers, the people of Nazareth all “spoke well of him” and were amazed at his “gracious words.”  He could have stopped there, and left everyone feeling good.  We can almost hear the comments now:  “That was interesting Jesus.” Or, “Well, you really made us think this morning, Rabbi.”

But Jesus continues with words that provoke the synagogue folk.  Perhaps he wants to prepare them for how radically things were about to change.  In response to a request to demonstrate some of the wonders he did in Capernaum, Jesus shocks them with his reply. He tells them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb: “Doctor, cure yourself!”  And before they could settle down from this challenge, he moves on to cite two examples from scripture about how God’s divine favor was given to pagans.   

In a single moment, the friendly people there changed into a lynch mob.  This wasn’t the kind of preaching that they wanted to hear. In their estimation Jesus had moved from being “a home town boy who made good” into being “a crackpot.”   What was it that enraged them so?  What made them kick him out of the synagogue, hustle him out of the town, and take him to the edge of a cliff to throw him over? 

Well Jesus identified himself with the prophets when he said, “Today this has come true in your hearing.”  By way of defense and explanation of that line, Jesus points out what happened in the days of the prophets, Elijah and Elisha.  Elijah was sent to help a widow—but not a Jewish one.  Elisha healed one solitary leper—and the leper was the commander of the enemy army.  That’s what did it right there.  Currently, Israel was under the thumb of another enemy army—this time, the Romans. 

N. T. Wright says:

His hearers were, after all, waiting for God to liberate Israel from (the current) pagan enemies. Instead Jesus is pointing out, that when the prophets were active, it wasn’t Israel who benefited, but …the pagans….The grace of God that Jesus spoke about was just too free…and unbounded for (the people listening).[2]    

At his challenge to their usual way of thinking they became enraged.  When wisdom comes in unexpected ways it can require courage in order to express it. Consider the work of the Holy Spirit in a six-year-old little girl.  Her name was Ruby Bridges, and she was a very small heroine in the civil rights movement. 

Martin Luther King, Jr. told her story to Robert Coles.[3]  How she had, day after day, walked past menacing mobs in New Orleans, as she made her way to school at William Franz Elementary.  Coles investigated the story himself.  He learned that by the time Ruby arrived at William Franz, the white children had already been withdrawn by their parents. So, Ruby sat alone in the classroom with her teacher. 

The teacher told Coles that at first she was “reluctant” to be working under the new “federal desegregation order,” but she stayed anyway.  She went on to say:

I don’t know where little Ruby got the courage to do what she did…I would watch her walk with those federal marshals, and you couldn’t help but hear what the people said to her.  They called her the worst imaginable names.  They were ready to kill her…there must have been 40 or 50 grown men and women out there on the streets every morning and every afternoon. [4]

When Coles talked with Ruby, trying to understand what was going on inside her. The little girl kept telling him, “I’m just trying to go to school.” When asked by Coles if she might ever be afraid, Ruby told him matter-of-factly: “I just do what my Granny says; I just keep praying.”

Dr. King himself once said: “When people ask me where I get the courage….I say the answer is very simple. I can’t not do as I’m doing…..”

We’re also called to be courageous and by the Spirit’s power to bring: good news to the poor, the word of release to the captive, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed. We’re to boldly proclaim those words of Isaiah and Jesus.  We’re called to be unexpected voices of wisdom just as the Spirit has gifted us to be.     

WATER INTO WINE

Epiphany 2C—January 17, 2010

Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 36:5-10; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11; John 2:1-11

Mike and I both enjoy doing puzzles. He likes to do crossword puzzles the best. And I like to do picture puzzles—the kind where you try to find what has changed from one picture to the next.

But the lessons for today remind me of another kind of puzzle. It’s the kind where you try to find out what a group of items have in common.

Like “dance,” “motion” and “x-ray.”  What do they have in common? The first two are easy but what about the third?  What could x-ray have to do with the others? The answer isn’t what we expect.  All three of these words can be used as either a noun or a verb.

It’s like that puzzle, when we look for a common theme in today’s lessons. (And most preachers do look for a common theme.)  There are common themes of marriage, feasting, joy and renewal in three of the lessons.  But what does that letter to the Corinthians have to do with the others?  Well the clue is in the Gospel where Jesus turns the water into wine—not just a little wine, but about 120 gallons of it.

Some of us may need help in getting past the details of the story.  We get stuck on the fact that it’s so sensational. We may worry about all that alcohol and why he was so abrupt with his mother. But we need to back up just a bit from the details and take a look at the bigger picture. 

The bigger picture shows that weddings and bridegrooms were common Old Testament symbols.  In God’s relationship with Israel, God was a bridegroom and Israel a bride. Wine was also a common symbol.  It was the fruit of the vine that rewarded Israel’s faithfulness to the covenant.  Abundant wine was a sign of the Messianic covenant and the Messianic banquet.  Wine was connected with joy and the presence of God in the midst of ordinary life.  Wine was also connected with the Spirit.

Carl Jung is said to have written a letter to one of the founders of AA.  In it, he spoke of alcoholism as a spiritual thirst. And spoke of the connection between “spirits,” referring to alcohol, and the Spirit of God.  “You see, alcohol in Latin is "spiritus" (he said) and you use the same word for the highest religious experience as well as for the most depraving poison…”

So in the Gospel, Jesus takes something ordinary like water and changes it into something that represents joy, renewal of the spirit, and life.  His action is a “sign” John says. It’s a sign of his power to transform the most ordinary things.  Perhaps it was also a sign of the Holy Spirit.

On Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came on all the disciples, they were accused of having had too much wine!!

And so we come to the connection of the Epistle to the other lessons. It’s the power of the Spirit to transform the ordinary that Paul talks about in his letter.  He tells the church in Corinth that they’re only able to say “Jesus is Lord” because of the Holy Spirit.  And then he tells them the results of living as if Jesus really is the Lord of their lives. He tells them about the gifts of the Spirit.  

In this letter, Paul was addressing some of the questions that community was facing. And he was trying to answer some of their unspoken questions—questions that we’re still asking today, such as: “What are our ministries? What gifts do we have to fulfill those ministries? How can we work together for the same purpose?”  And Paul has some answers--for them and for us.

First, he says that there’re a variety of gifts.  He lists wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, working of miracles, prophecy, discerning of spirits, tongues, and interpretation of tongues. But in letters to other churches, he gives a different list.  None of the lists are meant to be exhaustive.  So don’t get stuck on one particular list. Each list is unique to the community he’s addressing.  And the Spirit gives different gifts at different times to the same congregation. This is in order to address the changing needs of the community. So think about it. What gifts might the Spirit be giving St. Francis at this particular time?

The Second thing Paul says is that the Spirit gives at least one gift to every person.  Each person’s gift is different.  But everyone here has been given a gift.  And gifts are not the same as education, training or skill. We may be good at doing several things, but not everything we do well is a gift.  A gift will be something that we’re most passionate about.  And using that gift will bring us great joy.      

The third thing Paul tells us is that we’re meant to use our gifts in community—“for the common good.”  In other words, we’re meant to use our gifts, not to boost ourselves but to serve others.

Each member uses his or her gifts for the good of the church, bringing the community to its greatest ability to live into that community’s particular call.    

The 2004 movie, The Incredibles is a good metaphor for how we use our gifts for the common good. In the movie, Elastigirl, is the mother and caregiver of all. So she needs to be able to stretch herself in all sorts of directions.  And she does—she has the gift of literally stretching herself thin!  Violet, the teenager who wants to blend in and protect herself from outsiders, is given her gift in such quantity that she can disappear and generate a protective force field. 

Dash and Mr. Incredible have generous gifts too.  Over-confident Dash can run at super speeds and Mr. Incredible is super strong.[1]  Imagine for a moment what could be done if our own spiritual gifts were “super-sized.”  Imagine if one of us had unlimited generosity or wisdom. 

And think about this. If you claimed the true abundance of your gift, what would you do differently from what you do now?    

This leads us to the fourth thing­—that God gives generously. We, along with all the others in this community, have all the gifts we need to make God’s dream for the world happen. In fact, just like the wine at the wedding in Cana, God gives us more than we need.  Our job is to receive God’s gifts and nurture them so that they become fruit for the world. 

So how do we know what gifts we’ve been given? The process of discernment is one of distinguishing the various gifts; distinguishing our gifts from those of others; and distinguishing those that are of the Spirit from those that are not. Spiritual discernment is always done with God’s will in mind.  So we begin with placing ourselves before God in prayer, then asking questions and listening. 

There’re many ways to practice discernment but one way to begin is to ask four simple questions.  What do I long to do? And what are those things that bring me joy? How do the things that I long to do fit in with God’s dream for the world?  And how do they further the spread of the kingdom?[2] 

The work of discernment is never finished. Our gifts change, the needs of the community change, and consequently, our ministries will change. We can use our gifts in many ways.  We can use them to bring people together or selfishly for our own gain.  We can use them to build relationships or to tear them down, to nourish life or destroy it.  We’re just ordinary people with ordinary lives and ordinary skills. But one thing is certain.  When we submit the ordinary water of our lives to Christ, he’ll be able to turn it into the finest wine.       

Prepare the Way

Advent 2C-1—December 1, 2009

Malachi 3:1-4; Canticle 16; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

There are many ways to get ready for Christmas. At my house it begins with four questions. Who will come?  Where and when will we meet? What do you want for Christmas this year?  If your family is like mine, these questions will involve the untangling of some of the many branches on the family tree.  

That’s because when it comes to holidays, parents, grandparents and in-laws all expect the same people at their homes--at the same time and on the same day.  So for every two people planning to get together there are at least four other schedules to consult.  If one side of the family is visited at Thanksgiving, the other side must be seen at Christmas--just to balance things out.   

Then comes the “where and “when.” Where we decide to gather is related to when.  If one side of the family gathers in Dallas on Christmas Eve, some will have to travel to Tyler for Christmas Day.  We spend hours on the phone just trying to work it all out.  Even before we start on the shopping we’re all worn out.      

There’s also a “who,” “what,” “where” and “when” in our gospel passage today.  The “when” is carefully detailed by Luke.  He names the exact date in terms of the political and religious rulers of the time. 

It happened in the fifteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Tiberias. It was when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea. Thus Luke takes notice of Rome.  It was when Herod was ruler of Galilee.  Philip and Lysanias ruled the surrounding territories. Here he takes note of the ruling Jews who were also steeped in Greek culture. It was when Annas and Caiphas were the high priests of the Temple. Now he’s named the religious hierarchy.  Luke is careful to list everybody who was anybody at the time.  “This was an actual historical event,” he seems to be saying, “and this is when it happened.”

The “Who” of the Gospel passage is John, the son of Zechariah and through him to all of God’s people.  At first, the “where” was in the wilderness—that’s where the word of God came to him.  But the “where” changes as John carries God’s word to the people.  John moves to the region around the Jordan where God’s people dwelt.  There he issues God’s invitation in the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight…”

Preparing the way and making it straight was an allusion to a travelling king.  When the king decided to travel in those days, he would send a messenger ahead to tell the people so that they could prepare the roads.  They would need to fill in the ruts and make it smooth for the king and all his entourage.

John is also a messenger of a king but the preparation that he calls for is not about mending roads.  The “preparing the way” that he calls for, is about mending hearts and minds.  It’s about removing the obstacles we’ve put in the way of God’s approach to us.  John’s message called for repentance and forgiveness of sins.  It calls for some wilderness time with God.

It’s no accident that God’s word first comes to John in the wilderness.  In the long story of God’s people, the wilderness plays a major role.  It’s a dangerous place—a place of hardship, hunger, thirst and deprivation.  It’s a place of desolation and demons.  On the other hand, it’s the place where God deals with Israel.  They are led out of Egypt and slavery into the wilderness.  It’s the place where they become God’s covenant people.  It’s the place where God protects them, feeds them and deepens the relationship with them.  

Wilderness can come in many forms.  In scripture, the wilderness is a desert.  But in a recent editorial book review, Rod Dreher describes another kind of wilderness.[1]  It’s a kind of wilderness we find ourselves living in today.  It’s one that comes from our culture’s excessive way of celebrating Christmas.

The book Dreher reviews is called Tinsel by Hank Stuever.  Stuever examines what Christmas means to contemporary Americans through the eyes of three families living in Frisco, Texas.  Frisco, in case you don’t know of it, is one of the newest and fastest growing suburbs north of Dallas. 

Tinsel follows three families through a trio of Christmas seasons.  One family is famous for their spectacular Christmas light display.  But, says Dreher, the father’s obsession with having the biggest display around, “can’t disguise the fact that he makes his mother cry by refusing to spend Christmas with the extended family.  “We’ve explained it to my parents over and over,” says the man.  “We have to be at our house for Christmas because of all the lights.”

In a second family, the wife spends the season decorating other people’s houses. She says that what she does is all about the search for the perfect childhood Christmas. She’s so busy trying by force of will and large cash expenditures to re-create this lost moment in time that she’s blind to the life that she actually lives.  Her husband feels that she is neglecting her own family.

Then there’s the Christmas pageant Stuever observes at a Frisco mega-church.  It promises “a state-of-the-art multimedia worship experience.”  “In the onstage finale,” says Dreher, “the church gathers Victorian towns people, kids dressed like presents, the Holy Family and a bloodied Jesus carrying a cross, all singing their hearts out in a holiday extravaganza that shouts “More! More! More!”

Dreher comments: 

The book is haunted by the ghosts of Christmas past when wants were simpler and folks found it easier to cherish both each other and the Christ child, because nobody expected life to be a state-of-the-art multimedia experience….It’s good to feast joyfully at Christmas.  But if you never fast, if you don’t know the meaning of enough, feasting can’t help being disordered and gross… When our wealth makes every day a holiday, how do you find the humility, stillness and gratitude required to live Christmas in the proper spirit?[2] 

That brings us to the “what” question.  What do we want for Christmas? What do we really want for Christmas? Don’t we long for new life?  Don’t we long for the presence of the Prince of Peace?  Now in this season of Advent, we can enter the wilderness intentionally.  There we may find desolation and demons.  But there we will also find God. 

In this season, we need a little silence, a little space, a little time.  We need enough silence to listen and pray for the word of God to come to us.  We need enough space to remember who we are and to examine who we’ve become. We need a little time to find our heart’s desire. Because what we really desire, deep down, is new life in Christ.  And I think we’ll find, if we examine our hearts, that he’s already prepared the way for us.   

Hope’s Promises

Advent 1C—November 29, 2009

Jeremiah 33:14-16; Psalm 25:1-9; 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13; Luke 21:25-36

It’s back again--the Christmas shopping frenzy!  The decorations went up right after Halloween.  Two weeks before Thanksgiving, I saw one version of The Christmas Carol on TV.  Soon we’ll will be able to pick and choose from all the versions. This story with its three Spirits of past, present and future—never fails to charm us.  But when it comes to jumping suddenly from one time-frame to another Advent has Christmas beaten every time.   

Today is the First Sunday of Advent--the beginning of the Church’s New Year.  Advent means “coming”—and refers to both the birth of Christ and the Second coming of Christ.  On the Church calendar, Advent spans both a beginning and an end.  In fact, the season of Advent does some very strange things in terms of time. Advent includes the past, the present and the future all rolled into one.    

Christopher Hill, the author of Holidays and Holy Days, explains:

We have an image of time (he says) that’s like a straight horizontal line with a middle point where we’re standing, called the Present.  The line of time is always moving past us like a conveyer belt. On the left is the Past, where present moments constantly flow and (then) immediately cease to exist.  On the right is the Future, which is always moving toward us but never actually arrives…

(But) for most of human history, (he continues) people experienced time very differently.  The pattern wasn’t a line but a circle.  The (circular) cycles of sun moon and stars; of the seasons; of life, death and birth (were the pattern)… (But) what (the cycle) doesn’t include is the possibility of growth.  (Because) in the cycle, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

The Christian year is modeled on the spiral, a circle that grows outward and upward.  It grows in a vertical direction as well as horizontally, combining the straight line of past, present and future with the height and depth of eternity.[1]

Each of our Advent lessons for today includes the past, the present, and the future.  Each lesson contains a flashback to the past and a preview of the future. 

Jeremiah speaks about the future as one of the ancient prophets.  Most of the prophets spoke of the end times in frightening images.  The Day of the Lord would be a day of retribution and suffering and wrath!  Amos even compared it to being mauled by a bear or bitten by a snake.  Who could look forward to such an event?  The prophets of the past were warning God’s people to repent and turn back to the Lord.        

But Jeremiah’s message is different.  He talks about the same Day of the Lord as a time of great joy.  It would be a time when God’s promises would come true at last. “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah.”  A mighty king is coming, he says, a descendant of David who will execute justice and righteousness.  This king will save Judah.  Those in Jerusalem will live in safety.  Jeremiah says that God will fulfill his promises and therein lies a future full of hope.

In the Gospel for today there’s also a preview and a flashback.  Jesus uses prophetic language to describe the future of Jerusalem. All who heard him would have known that he was using the metaphors of the ancient prophets.  And they would recognize the language of the prophet Daniel. As usual the sun, moon, stars and seas would reflect a major change that was coming. Jesus uses the language of the past to describe the future of the Temple. And the Temple was indeed destroyed in 70 AD.     

All of this hopping about in time may be confusing to us. What do the ancient prophets have to do with us today?  And what can we possibly do about a future cataclysmic event?   We can live in neither the past nor the future.  We can only live in the present.  Perhaps that’s why Jesus tells the disciples to look at the fig tree—a common object that they see every day.  As Barbara Brown Taylor puts it:

Jesus’ answer about the fig tree sounds like an invitation to pay attention not only to what may happen in the future but also to what is happening in front of us right now. It sounds like a clue that God may be reaching out to us through things we would not have thought of as “religious,” even something as worldly as a fig tree in bloom.

Maybe you already know that the word ‘apocalypse’ means ‘revelation (she continues) as in that moment when you are looking at something you have looked at half your life and suddenly you see it as if for the first time....

Revelation is the moment when you can see through, see into, see beyond what is going on to what is really going on—not because you are some kind of a genius but because God decided to let you, and you happened to be paying attention at the time.

‘Be on guard’ Jesus said. ‘Be alert at all times.’ Not so you will know when to grab your crash helmet and head for the basement, but so you will know when the kingdom is near.  So you will not miss God when God comes.  ‘Stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.’[2]

“Be on guard” Jesus says in the Gospel, “so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” Sounds like words that are tailor–made for Advent 2009.  “Be on guard.”  So that you’re not caught up in the rounds of Christmas parties; in the greed of buying; in the frantic, hysterical, last minute rush to get everything done on time.  Be on guard so that you don’t forget what Advent is supposed to be about.         

Advent is about time. We hear people say that they don’t have enough time. But Taylor reminds us that we don’t have any more or any less time than Mother Teresa did.  We just make different decisions about how we’ll use it.  Whether it passes quickly or slowly time is all we have.  In the meantime, how will we wait for Jesus? 

There are many ways to wait, Taylor says. 

“There’s the tense dread-filled waiting of those whose hope is gone.  There is the resigned waiting of those for whom a spade is always a spade.  There is even a kind of compulsive waiting, in which one collects signs of the end like souvenir spoons.  Get the whole set and—poof!—the rapture comes.”[3]

One way we can wait is as a people of hope.  We can have hope for those without hope.  And we can pray for others as well. But that’s not the hardest part says Louis Smedes.  “The hardest part for people who believe in the second coming (he says)  is in ‘living the sort of life that makes people say ‘Ah, so that’s  how people are going to live when righteousness takes over the world.’[4]    

“So how shall we wait? As wide awake as we know how.  As fully alive as we can be.  Not because we have to, but because we can--thanks to the one who has died, who is risen and who will come again…” [5]

Christ the King

Proper 29B—November 22, 2009

Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; Psalm 93; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37

We start today with a riddle.  What does the last Sunday of Pentecost, Thanksgiving, and Advent have to do with Holy Week?  You may have been asking yourself that very question when you heard the Gospel for today.  This Thursday is Thanksgiving.  Next Sunday is the first Sunday of Advent.  But the Gospel today, with Jesus before Pilate, sounds more like Good Friday.  What does it all mean? 

The answer to this riddle is simple. Today is the Feast of Christ the King.  We end the Church year with images of Christ returning in glory as judge and king.  Next Sunday is Advent and we start all over again looking forward to his birth.  Still, Jesus before Pilate doesn’t seem like a king.  So, there’s still a riddle here waiting to be solved.

In the series of Batman and Robin movies, there are some strange and interesting characters. Most of these are arch-enemies of the dynamic duo.  You may remember Cat Woman, Two Face and the Joker--to name just a few.  And then there’s the Riddler.  In the movie, Batman Forever, Jim Carey plays the role.  And he comes across as wonderfully whacky with his question mark walking stick.   The Riddler is intriguing because he never gives a straight answer.  He never directly addresses anyone.  Every statement he makes or challenge he gives is in the form of a riddle.  He makes his listeners think.

Jesus seems to be a bit of a “Riddler” in today’s gospel.  Standing before Pilate, the one who can condemn him to death, his responses seems very odd.  Pilate hurls some direct questions at Jesus—“Are you the King of the Jews?”  “What have you done?” But he gets back only the vaguest of answers.  At first, Jesus asks Pilate what he has heard.  Jesus then offers an unsolicited description of his kingdom.  It is “not of this world” and so is not a political concern.

Finally, Pilate confronts him with questions that could be answered “yes” or “no.”  “So you are a king?” Pilate asks. Jesus once again sidesteps the question by changing the subject to “truth.”  Can you imagine Pilate’s frustration?  Here he is trying to put out a political flash-fire that could end his career and Jesus seems to be talking philosophy! 

But “the riddle me this” responses of Jesus are meant to do more than they seem.  With his answers, Jesus introduces new and more appropriate agendas than Pilate’s.  He reframes the whole dialogue.  Just as he did with the Scribes and Pharisees, Jesus ignores the accusations.  They come from the wrong categories.  He transforms the confrontation even as he transforms the world.  As Pilate turns to leave he asks, “What is truth?”  What was the truth of this strange and unjust situation?

The truth wasn’t found outside the door in all the fear and frenzy.  The truth was not found in the crowds or the crown of thorns or the mocking purple robe. Yet each of these did “bear witness to the truth.” For truth can be something that we live out.  Or truth can be the person we become. So truth often reflects our imperfect human nature and our imperfect human lives.

 Jesus introduces Pilate to the notion that truth is found, not only in answers, but also in the questions.  In this case, truth was not a proposition, but a person standing there, right before his eyes.  Jesus, “the Way, the Truth and the Life.”  Jesus-- the Riddler.

So what is “the truth” as it appears in our lives today?  Think you’ll get a straight answer now?  Ha!  Guess again, Batman.  Instead of an answer, I’m going to offer you three familiar songs.  Each one has a glimpse of the “truth” of life as we know it.

The first is a children’s song.  Most parents and teachers know it.  It comes complete with hand motions.  It’s the “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”  It’s a cute song but try to look at it sometime from the spider’s viewpoint.  From the viewpoint of the spider, life is just ODTAA--“One darn thing after another.”  The ancient Greeks had a similar tale of Sisyphus.  Sisyphus was doomed to push the same huge rock to the top of a hill over and over again.  Every time he reached the top it would roll back down.

Sometimes we feel as if our own tasks are just as endless.  Ask the office worker with the “in” and “out” box.  Ask the person doing the family wash.  Ask anyone who is in charge of caring for pets.  They’ll all probably say that life is just ODTAA.  All of us know that life can be like that.  We’re like that “Itsy Bitsy Spider” who keeps “climbing the water spout” even though we know that the rain will come.

Or maybe the truth is more like “Rock-a-Bye Baby.”  Here’s another children’s song and it’s supposed to put fussy babies to sleep.  But have you ever listened to the words.  It’s about a baby falling from a treetop.  Maybe the REAL cure for colic is to stop singing that song to the baby. 

But it isn’t it true about life?   Terrible things do happen and sometimes quite suddenly.  Life can jolt us with loss, pain, betrayal and death.  The lullaby doesn’t say “if” the bough breaks, but “when” the bough breaks. To be alive is to live in the midst of falling branches, failing relationships, and fragile hearts.  To be alive is to live in the midst of a fragile economy.           

But there is one more truth song.  The words are written by Henry Van Dyke, the music is by Beethoven.  The choir is going to sing this one.   (Choir)

Joyful, joyful we adore thee, God of glory, Lord of love;

Hearts unfold like flowers before thee, opening to the sun above.

Melt the clouds of sin and sadness; drive the dark of doubt away.

Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day.

So what is the truth?  The ultimate truth is this.  No matter what difficulties we may face, God’s love shines through.  We still can experience gladness and peace in the midst of an “Itsy Bitsy Spider” world and a “Rock-a-Bye-Baby” life. 

And we can all say yes to this ode- to- joy truth.  This is the truth that God’s love is in our midst.   God’s forgiveness is always available.  God’s peace pours out in an unending stream.  God’s joy fills up the emptiness of our lives. 

So ask the riddle again.  What do Pentecost, Thanksgiving and Advent have to do with Holy Week?  Well, the answer is clear.  Each one reveals to us the truth that gives our lives meaning.  Because each reveals the truth that Jesus Christ is King.  

SPECIAL DELIVERY

Proper 28B—November 15, 2009

Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 16; Hebrews 10:11-14, 19-25; Mark 13:1-8

Fred Craddock, a former seminary professor, wonders which of the New Testament letters were sent off in a hurry and which ones were sent off in a leisurely fashion.  For example, when Paul wrote that angry letter to the Corinthians, he probably let it sit on his desk for a while.  “It’s one thing to write a letter like that,” says Craddock.  “It’s another thing to send it.”  First Thessalonians is mostly prayers, songs, and words of praise, so when that one was mailed, Paul could have said, “Well, just as long as it gets there by Sunday...”  The letter to Jude?  “There’s no telling what the writer thought,” says Craddock.  “But if it never got there at all it wouldn’t hurt!”  

And then there’s the letter to the Hebrews: “very heavy, very ponderous” he says. “Put it on the scale and it costs three extra stamps.”  But even though it cost a lot, on the outside were stamped these words: “Special delivery, Overnight Mail, Federal Express, Get it There!”

As soon as you open the letter to the Hebrews, you know why Craddock said that.  It’s filled with expressions of urgency: “Hold on. Don’t shrink back. Don’t despair. Don’t give up.  Lift your drooping hands and knees.”  Why? The author of Hebrews is trying his best to revive a church.  He’s trying to restore that church to its former joy, love and delight in serving God.[1]

So what’s the problem? What’s wrong with that church to cause such an urgent appeal? A close reading reveals that the Christians there were tired, exhausted, bone–weary.  As Tom Long puts it, they were:

….“tired of serving the world, tired of worship, tired of Christian education, tired of the spiritual struggle, tired of being whispered about in society, tired of trying to keep their prayer life going..”  The threat to this congregation is not that they are charging off in the wrong direction; they don’t have the energy to charge off anywhere…”[2]

These good people had forgotten why they were doing all the busy things they were doing.  They’d forgotten whose church it was.  They’d forgotten the central role of Jesus, their great High Priest…from whom they could “receive mercy and find grace in time of need.” 

So the author of Hebrews goes back to the basics, reminding them about Jesus. The language of this letter is ornate and complex.  It sometimes has confusing images of Temple practices with which we are not familiar.  But the main idea is that Jesus is our high priest whose sacrifice is made only once and remains in effect forever. 

The Temple sacrifices were not like that.  In the Temple there was a kind of priestly treadmill with sacrifices that took place over and over again.  There was no end to the process, says Barclay, and it still left people with a consciousness of their sins.[3]  In contrast, the sacrifice of Christ was made once and for all. 

Every priest stands day after day,” says our passage, “offering again and again the same sacrifices that can never take away sins.  But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God…For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified.” (Hebrews 10:11, 14)

This explanation of the role of Christ covers the first half of our lesson today.  Then second half switches to our response.  And the two parts are separated by only one little word—“therefore.”  Because Christ has opened the way for us and sits at the right hand of God, therefore we respond in action and attitude.  And our response to Christ’s role falls into three categories.  First, we can approach God with confidence; second we can confess hope; and third, we can encourage one another.  Each of these responses acts as an antidote to that “tired-blood” syndrome afflicting so many. So let’s take a look at each of them.        

First, we’re able to draw near to God trusting that we’ll be lovingly received.  “We have confidence to enter the sanctuary” says Hebrews.  “Let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith.”  We can go to God for whatever we need knowing that we don’t have to earn God’s favor.  It’s already been done for us. The root word of confidence is “fidere” meaning both “trust” and “faith.”  When we as the church approach God in our worship or prayers we can trust that God is available to us.        

It’s like this.  It’s as if we were working in a huge organization far down in the ranks.  And we need to see the CEO of the whole company. Because he’s the only one who can give us the help we need for the project we’re working on.  But that busy and important executive seems so far above us that we’re not sure if he’ll even give us an appointment.

As it turns out he will and he does.  We approach the mahogany door of his office nervously.  But when the door opens, there beside him is an old friend of ours who has already paved the way.  Not only that, but this particular friend used to hold the same position in the organization that we now hold.  So he understands all about what we do and what our needs are.  Jesus who “was tempted in every way as we are yet did not sin” is like that friend.  Because of Jesus’ sacrifice we can always approach the presence of God with confidence.

Second, because of what Christ has done, we have hope.  Even though the economy is in decline; even though there are “wars and rumors of wars”; even though there are earthquakes, hurricanes and other natural disasters—we can still “hold fast to hope without wavering.”  It’s not always easy to do.  But even disasters are temporary.

Abraham Lincoln told of an Eastern monarch who charged his wise men to invent a sentence.  This sentence had to always be in view and had to be true and appropriate in all situations.  And so they presented him with the words: “And this too shall pass away.” Lincoln says of this sentence: “How much it expresses!  How chastening, in the hour of pride!  How consoling, in the depths of affliction!” [4]

Curtis Almquist, the Superior of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist is fond of saying: “Sometimes the part we’ve been handed in life is not the part we thought we were trying out for.”  Still our call is to pray a “yes” to our lives and to consciously appropriate Christ’s promises.[5] And that “yes” is an expression of hope. Someone else has said, “Hope is born, not in knowing where you are going, but in knowing who is leading the way.”[6]  Christ our great high priest is leading the way for the Church.

Finally, because of what Christ has done, we respond to one another with encouragement.  As Hebrews puts it, we are to “provoke one another to love and good deeds.”  “Provoke” in this sense doesn’t mean we’re supposed to irritate each other.  (Although, that can happen from time to time.)  No, “provoke” in this sentence is based on the root “vocare” meaning to “call.”  We are to “call forth” love and good deeds in one another encouraging one another in our walk.                       

A word of encouragement strengthens the church. It supplies that positive affirming force that is so often missing in our lives.  We live by encouragement.  It is what we need both when things go well and when they don’t.  The trick is that we can’t encourage ourselves. Even in this self-help culture of ours we can’t do that yet.  Perhaps that’s why the letter to the Hebrews tells us not to neglect meeting together.  We can only be encouraged by someone else and it’s our spiritual obligation to encourage one another in the church.

Finally, the writer to the Hebrews say that time is short.  The Day is approaching.  He’s thinking of the Second Coming of Christ when things as we know them will end.  The early Church lived in that expectation and so do we.  As Barclay puts it: “(No one) knows when the summons to rise and go will come… In the time we have it is our duty to do all the good we can, to all the people we can, in all the ways we can.”[7] Pray then, that it may be so.      

A GENEROUS HEART

Proper 27B - November 8, 2009

1 Kings 17:8-16; Psalm 146; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44

Last Tuesday was Election Day and some of us went to the polls to vote.  One of the things that we voted for was a new City Council member. It's interesting to think of the reasons why we vote for a particular candidate. Some vote for what the candidate has promised to do when in office.  Some vote against a candidate, casting their vote for the opposition just by default.  And some people base their choices on the way the candidate looks and sounds.

We all have different standards in elections and in life.  At the time of Jesus, there were standards based upon appearance--just as there are now. The scribes were particularly concerned with how they looked to others. They walked around in long flowing robes sweeping the ground.  The long robes were a sign of someone important. In such a long, flowing robe the person couldn't hurry or even work very hard. The robes were signs of great leisure and wealth.

The scribes also liked to be greeted in the marketplace and to have the most important seats at all the feasts.  They were prone to long public prayers offered so as to impress their audience rather than God.  They wanted to draw attention to themselves, which is why they preferred to give money publicly.  Their motive in giving was to show everyone just how wealthy they were.

In previous verses, before today’s passage, Jesus had found himself baited by these religious leaders.  They’d tried to engage him in arguments.  They wanted to debate about paying taxes to the emperor, about the most important commandment, and about the marriage laws in unusual circumstances.  But they weren’t interested in learning.  They just wanted to discredit Jesus.  They were trying to catch him in a theological trap. 

But in the gospels, Jesus isn’t fooled by outward appearance.  He always looks at people and sees their inner motives.  So with the scribes, he doesn’t allow himself to be trapped.  In fact, he often answers their question with one of his own--a question that brings before them what’s really in their hearts. 

So standing in front of the temple, Jesus points his disciples to a different standard of giving. He draws their attention to a poor widow who gives what she has for all the right reasons.  Widows were outcasts in that culture, living on the edge of survival. Rather assisting them to survive, their lives were made worse by the general belief that poverty was caused by sin. So the opposite was also believed.  The wealthy were believed to be righteous.     

It’s a strange and wonderful thing that the person handed down to us as the pattern of generosity gave just two small coins worth a penny.  Yet, Jesus says that her action is the standard we’re to go by.  Once again, he’s looking at her inner motives not the amount she gave. 

When we look at what she did, we may wonder why she gave to an institution that even Jesus declared spiritually bankrupt. We may wonder why she didn't keep at least one of those coins against a rainy day.  But if we use a different set of standards--one that’s not based on monetary values or worldly success-then we’ll see something else.

We see a devoted woman who is not afraid to give all that she has to God. She trusts that the God of all abundance will continue to provide for her needs. We hear Jesus proclaim that this widow has made a genuine sacrifice. She has given her "whole life'' because of her faith.

Then we look ahead to a vision of Jesus hanging on a cross. There we see Jesus giving his "whole life'' for the sake of yet another bankrupt institution---the human race. Jesus sees that the widow is giving out of her love for God.  Although her gift is meager in comparison to the large sums given by the wealthy, it’s a far greater gift because it comes from the heart. If you blink hard you can see it too. The widow's gift is the power of love. It's the gift that keeps on giving and it's mighty indeed.

One of the things that Jesus teaches us is that we don't give for the reward. The basis for Christian giving is not what we'll get in return. The basis of Christian giving is to share Christ’s Spirit and love with others.  In fact, God never promises, per se, to reward us if we give.  Yet, at the same time, rewards and blessings do come our way.  There's a wonderful law that goes into effect whenever we give out of faith. It's the law of spiritual return and it is best expressed in Luke's Gospel when Jesus says:

Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over will be put into your lap: for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. (Luke 6:38)

While this sounds like a reward system, it's more complicated than that. What Jesus is teaching isn't an economic system where we give and are compensated in kind by God. Instead something deeper takes place. When we give because our faith impels us to do so, we're deepening our relationship with God.  

When we love God, our faith causes a desire to share that love with others. Then our gift of love to others increases the level of love that God can share with us. This is the law of spiritual return and it's rooted in relationship, rather than reward.  It goes into effect with every little thing that we dedicate to God.

Scott Weimer, a Presbyterian pastor in Georgia, tells about giving from a joyful and grateful heart.  It seems that several years ago, a Kenyan woman joined his church.  Her name was Lydia.  She told him that she loved his church but she really missed a few things from her church in Kenya. 

When he asked her what she missed the most, what she said surprised him.  “I miss the offering,” she said.  “In Kenya, we would sometimes dance down the aisle when the offering was brought forward.  We didn’t have much to give, but what we did have, we gave with great joy.  It’s a wonderful thing to give back to God, all that he’s given to us!”[1]      

For Lydia and for the widow in this story, giving an offering to God is first and foremost a matter of the heart. During this season of stewardship, we need to remember that God cares more about what is in our hearts than the actual amount we give.  With open hands we receive from God.  With open hands we give it back.  

Each of us is so very blessed. Each of us has something to share no matter how small it may seem by the world's standards. Each of us has a little money, a little time or a little talent. And each little bit added together makes an overflowing abundance that is mighty indeed. 

How do you measure what God has given you? If you measured your life by the amount of love shown would you find yourself "rich" or "poor?" As Christians, we've received the greatest gift of all---the sacrificial gift of Jesus Christ. In that gift, we're rich beyond measure. But like the widow, we're to give it away—to pour out our lives for his sake and for the sake of his kingdom.   

ESSENTIAL INGREDIENTS

Proper 25B - October 25, 2009

Isaiah 59:9-19; Psalm 13; Hebrews 5:12-6:1, 9-12; Mark 10:46-52

His action stands in contrast to that of the rich young man who couldn't or wouldn't give up his possessions. Bartimaeus does in a flash what that "rich young ruler'' refused to do.  He throws away his ''security blanket'' and comes to Jesus. He does not "go away sorrowful," but races to Jesus joyfully.  

LACKING ONE THING

Amos 5:6-7, 10-15; Psalm 90:12-17; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31

“It’s not about the money!”  The same might be said about our gospel passage for today.  At first glance it appears to be about money.  And Jesus does talk about how difficult it is for the rich to be citizens in God’s kingdom.  But a closer look shows us a deeper and wider theme. 

A rich man, who’s called “young” in Matthew and a “ruler” in Luke, comes to Jesus with a question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The rich man has a problem—a spiritual problem that only Jesus can see.  He runs up to Jesus and kneels, just as countless others have done in Mark’s gospel. His actions are a sign to us that this is a healing story.  His running and kneeling show us that his request is both urgent and sincere. The scene is set for him to request and receive a healing.  But he’s the only one in all of the Gospels that rejects the healing Jesus offers.   

Jesus doesn’t answer his question directly but asks a question of his own.  “Why do you call me good?  No one is good but God alone.” This seems to be a strange thing to say.  But Jesus’ question gives us a clue about what the man’s problem really is.  “No one… but God alone,” Jesus says.  There’s the rich man’s true problem. He’s trusted in so many other things.  But he doesn’t trust in God.   He’s trusted in his own wealth and status.  He’s trusted in his own ability to keep the commandments.  He’s trusted in hard work. But something is still missing. So he comes to Jesus with his question.   

Jesus says to him: “You know the commandments.”  Then he proceeds to name six of them. ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.” And the rich man says he has kept all of these commandments. 

But wait a minute!  There are Ten Commandments listed in the Bible. We can find them in Exodus and Deuteronomy.  N. T. Wright points out that Jesus lists only five of them and then adds an extra one about defrauding.[2]  No one seems to know where the defrauding one comes from.  Perhaps it was specific to this particular man.  We may never know.  But if we leave that one out, what are the other five Jesus doesn’t list?  What are the missing commandments?  

The missing commandments are: “You shall have no other gods before me; You shall not make for yourself an idol; You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God; Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy; You shall not covet.” 

The first list that Jesus names has to do with relationships with other people.  But the second list, not spoken, is about relationship with God.  Jesus names only the commandments on the first list pertaining to the man’s relationships with others.  He seems to know that the man has kept those. He only addresses the second list indirectly, when he addresses what is lacking. “You lack one thing,” he tells him. Deep down the commandments broken are not about money.  They are about the man’s relationship to God.

The first thing he lacks is a sense of God’s sovereignty.  The rich man has put possessions in the place where God’s supposed to be.  His possessions rank first in his life. The things that he owns are more important to him than anything else.  They are so important that he’s unable to give them up so that he can have a new and better life—the kind that lasts forever.  Today we might call this an addiction.  An obsession at the center of his life that he believes he can’t live without.   

The fact is our possessions can own us.  The more possessions we have the more time we have to spend taking care of them.  They have to be dusted, cleaned, painted and repaired.  They have to be protected by locks, alarms, and fire insurance. Then they have to be replaced by newer and better models when they go out of style.  The more time we spend worrying about and taking care of our possessions, the more they control our lives.  No wonder Jesus told the man to sell his possessions. He would have had a hard time travelling with Jesus carrying all that stuff.  “You shall have no other gods before me; You shall not make for yourself an idol.”

And when possessions become your God, they seem to spawn a whole host of lesser gods in the process.  With an obsession for acquiring things there never seems to be enough.  And so we begin to covet our neighbor’s new car or our best friend’s new iPhone.  Now there’s a connection to another commandment in the unspoken list, “You shall not covet.”

Then because we buy more and more, we have to work harder and harder in order to pay off all our credit card debt.  At this point we’ve encountered another commandment:  “Remember the Sabbath Day to keep it holy.”  Work can become an addiction too—another false idol.  We don’t know for sure about the rich man in the story.  But he probably had to work hard all the time just to maintain all that he owned.  In Jesus’ time, the Sabbath was a day of rest and it applied to everyone and everything including the livestock and the land. 

.          

Barbara Brown Taylor describes how the Sabbath begins in a Jewish household.  It begins with the lighting of two candles—one for each of the times God commanded the practice of Sabbath for his people. The first candle represents rest.  After God created the world, God rested on the seventh day and then commanded that we do so as well. This is what the first candle announces (she says): Made in God’s image, you too shall rest. The second candle represents freedom.  God again commanded that Sabbath be kept after freeing his people from slavery in Egypt.  The second candle announces: Made God’s image, you too are free.[3]     

In her book, An Altar in the World, Taylor addresses the loss of Sabbath: 

 By the 1990’s (she says) the average worker was putting in 164 extra hours of paid labor each year—the equivalent of an extra month of work.  Around this same time, the two income household was becoming the..norm which meant that the new pressure at work was matched by a new pressure at home….

The incline in work time was matched by a steep decline in..activities upon which most societies depend: (such as) the care of the very old and the very young, civic duties, volunteer work,… (and) church work.  Hallmark developed a new line of cards for absentee parents.  “Sorry I can’t be there to tuck you in” one said.  “Sorry I can’t say good morning,” read another.

The man in our story was lacking one thing but it was not about the money. It was about the things he loved more than he loved God.  And we’re told that Jesus, looking at him, loved him anyway.  Loved him enough to tell him what he didn’t want to hear.  Loved him enough to show him what his life was meant to be like.  

You and I are faced with the same decision every day. We can live our lives searching for what is in it for us.  We can live our lives seeking fulfillment only through our work, our families, our roles and our possessions. Or we can say yes to Christ’s love and let him transform all our other loves as well.  His gracious invitation awaits us still.  Jesus, looking at us, loves us and says, “Come follow me!”  The rich man said no.   What will we say?

A COMMUNITY OF ELDERS

Proper 21B-1-September 27, 2009

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Psalm 19:7-14; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50

Last Thursday was the opening day of the East Texas State Fair, It was also Senior Citizens Day and I was asked to do the opening invocation.  I puzzled over what to pray at the first day of such an event.  Naturally, as a good Episcopalian, I turned to the prayer book.  But just as I suspected there weren’t any prayers for State Fairs.  So I turned to the second theme of Senior Citizens and found one entitled: “For the Aged.”

Left to my own devices, I turned to the internet.  Again, there was nothing that pertained to fairs, State or otherwise.  But there was a beautiful prayer for Senior Citizens.  Among other things it says:

Let them know how much we value their contributions….Cause us as a nation to rise up and bless those who have lived long, sacrificed much and worked hard—so that younger generations might enjoy a better life…Work among them…inspiring them to leave a legacy of faith and prayer for all generations that come after them.. [1]

In our youth-obsessed culture, this prayer was refreshing to me.  Senior Citizens are not those for whom life is over.  They have an essential role to play in the community. This prayer seems to echo the vision about elders found in our lessons for today.  In fact, it echoes the meaning of the word “elders” as it is used in Scripture.

The word in both the Old and New Testaments literally means “old.”  Yet it came to stand for much more than chronological age.  It came to mean those chosen and empowered to lead in a faith community.  It came to mean those who were experienced in the life of faith and prayer; those meant to teach a whole new generation of disciples. From their wisdom and experience they were to teach others how to grow in the faith.  In our lessons for today, “elder” seems to refer to the spiritually mature.  And that’s in direct contrast to the “little ones,” the baby believers, who are new to the faith.   

In our first lesson, Moses has his hands full.  The rabble is complaining to him about the food.  They’re tired of eating nothing but manna.  They’ve already forgotten why God originally sent the manna.  It was to keep them from starving to death in the wilderness.  They’ve even forgotten why they left Egypt in the first place. In their minds Egypt has become a gourmet paradise of wonderful things to eat. Now they’re criticizing Moses for rescuing them from slavery!

Though thousands of years have passed, people in haven’t changed that much. There are still those who complain all the time no matter their circumstances.  There are still those who look to the past with rose-colored glasses. Like the “rabble” in our lesson, they conveniently forget the things that weren’t perfect even then.  One parish, where I served as a seminarian, had practically canonized a former rector from forty years before.  In their memory he was a saint who never did anything wrong.  No leader after him could live up to their memory of his saintliness.    

Moses being a good leader takes his problems with the rabble to God.  And it’s clear from his prayer what he thinks of their spiritual maturity:  

“Did I give birth to them, (he says to the Lord) that you should say to me, ‘Carry them in your bosom, as a nurse carries a sucking child,’ to the land that you promised on oath to their ancestors?....I am not able to carry all this people alone for they are too heavy for me.[2]

Obviously, he sees them as infants that have to be carried.  And he needs some adults to help share the load.  Leadership in a faith community is meant to be shared. Those who are further along in their journey are to help carry the newborn of the faith until they have grown up.  The saying that “it takes a village to raise a child” is just as true for the church. It takes the whole congregation to raise new Christians to an adult faith.      

God tells Moses to call the 70 “elders” in the community to help him carry out this responsibility. And then God gives these “elders” the spiritual power needed for their role. When the spirit came upon them, as they stood at the Tent of Meeting, they began to prophesy. And their prophesying must have included some kind of ecstatic behavior.  Because someone runs to Moses reporting that two people back in camp were prophesying also.  

Joshua doesn’t like this unexpected event.  He tells Moses to stop them.  Only those at the Tent were supposed to be included.  But Moses says: “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!” 

It would be wonderful if all God’s people were prophets.  After all prophets have the capacity to understand and interpret God’s will to the rest of God’s people.  And the church is always in need of that.  But the gift is always God’s to give.  We can never tell whom God might call--even those who we think shouldn’t be included.  Only God sees what’s in their hearts. But their observable actions may give us a clue.

Elders of the faith tend to be praying people and compassionate people.  They’re the ones to call when people are sick.  The letter of James says we’ll know them because they can anoint the sick with oil in the name of the Lord.  Their prayers are prayers of faith.  And when they pray things happen. 

Sometimes they are healed physically, sometimes emotionally, sometimes spiritually. Sometimes sins will be forgiven in the process. What happens as a result of the prayer of faith is up to the Lord.  But notice that more than one person is involved.  They are called to pray together as a group.  For, James says: “the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.”[3]

This brings us to the Gospel for today and the need for sacrifice. Jesus is still instructing the disciples as they journey to Jerusalem.  His words are a part of that leadership seminar that he began a few verses back. The disciples are followers about to be leaders. And it’s a very serious responsibility.   

He warns them against “stumbling”--an expression for falling away and getting on the wrong track.  As future leaders what they do and say will have consequences. If they aren’t vigilant, rather than leading others to Christ, they can become an obstacle.  A grasping greedy hand, a careless crushing foot, a lustful envious eye--each can do major damage.

This is such an important lesson that Jesus uses intentionally graphic language.  His words are not meant to be taken literally. He just wants them to look at the things that may prevent them from becoming all they are meant to be.  He wants the same for each of us.  What is it that we need to cut from our own lives in order to avoid sin?  What sacrifices do we need to make in order to be better servants of Christ?          

 In the church we are all followers in need of Jesus as our leader.  But he calls us all to lead as well.  Whether leading or following we do it together. Dennis Maynard puts it this way:

……. the spiritual journey is a communal activity.  The people of God, that we call the Church, are here to strengthen and encourage one another in our spiritual life. We do this when we come together for our common act of worship and learning.  We do this when we care for one another in the good times and the bad with our ministries of presence, prayer and kindness.  We do this when we work together to alleviate the suffering of those who are oppressed in mind, body or spirit. And we do this when we invite others to join us on our journey.  When we come together as the Church in large groups or small, we are strengthened and encouraged by God and one another….We are called to faithfully play our part..It’s up to God to use us as he chooses.[4] 

WHO’S THE GREATEST?

Proper 20B-1- September 20, 2009

Jeremiah 11:18-20; Psalm 54, James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a, Mark 9:30-37

Pride seems to be part of our human condition. From an early age we want to be number one, the best, the center of admiration and attention.  Young children will misbehave if they can get attention no other way.  To siblings who compete for their parent’s attention, negative attention is better than no attention at all.  

“What were you arguing about?” Jesus asks his disciples. The disciples were arguing about who was the greatest.  Jesus had just told them that he will be betrayed and killed.  But they want to know who is first, most talented, strongest, and most important. Mary Hinkle describes their behavior in terms of our own culture today:

They are graduate students comparing GRE scores (she says). They are ministers discussing the average Sunday attendance in their respective congregations. They’re anyone who's ever written a memo with the words ‘measurable outcomes.’ Which of the disciples is the star pupil? (They want to know.) Who is the greatest? "[1]

“Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from?” asks the letter of James. “Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and you do not have it. And you covet something and cannot obtain it so you engage in disputes and conflicts.”

Today’s Gospel shows us a different way.  Jesus embraces a child too small to care which disciple is “the greatest.” Then he says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and . . . the one who sent me.”

What he’s saying is that the kingdom of God can be found in those without any rank or stature as the world reckons it. In God’s view, even the smallest among us has infinite value. The way to be “greatest” in God's kingdom is not what we might think.  “Whoever wants to be first,” Jesus says, “must be last of all and servant of all.”  Our call is not to pride and selfish ambition but to humility.

Humility is essential in the Church—especially in church leadership. A spiritual leader needs to become a humble leader.  A leader can have faith, love, hope, calling and a prayerful heart, but if he or she is prideful, God can't get through.  That’s why this lesson was so important for the disciples to learn.  As future leaders, they would need to be guided by God's agenda-- not their own.  They’d need to continually seek that “wisdom from above” that James describes so well.

To many of us the term “humble leader” is an oxymoron. How can one be humble and a leader at the same time?  Our models of leadership often come from the business and political arenas where being strong, in charge, tough minded and thick skinned is valued.  Yet, even in the business world that model is changing to one that’s more collegial, cooperative, encouraging, empowering and humble.

We have trouble with the idea of being humble. Doesn't it turn us into mild-mannered, spineless, weak-willed people, we may ask?  Doesn't it mean walking around with a placid smile while keeping our hands folded in front of us like a cloistered monk? The belief that humility means “placid” is a common misconception. Thomas Kelly, a Quaker and twentieth century writer, tells us what humility is and is not:

 Humility does not rest, in final count upon discouragement and self- disgust (he says)… a brow beaten, dog-slinking attitude.  It rests upon the disclosure of the consummate wonder of God, upon finding that only God counts that all our self-originated intentions are works of straw.  And so in lowly humility we must stick close to the Root and count our own power as nothing except as it is enslaved in His power.[2]

Those who are humble ask God for “wisdom from above” to guide them. They try to make decisions by seeking God's will and not by their own ego-driven need to for praise.

The humble are also peacemakers. According to the Letter of James, they are “peaceable gentle, and willing to yield.” They have no need to point the finger of judgment at other people. Instead, they take a long hard look at their own sin and seek forgiveness. This kind of humility is a mark of spiritual maturity and often takes a lifetime to learn. Anthony de Mello quotes a Sufi holy man as saying:

 I was a revolutionary when I was young and all my prayer to God was, ‘Lord give me the energy to change the world.’  As I approached middle age and realized that half my life was gone without my changing a single soul, I changed my prayer to ‘Lord, give me the grace to change all those who come in contact with me. Just my family and friends, and I shall be satisfied.’ Now that I am an old man and my days are numbered, my one prayer is ‘Lord give me the grace to change myself.’ If I had prayed this right from the start, I should not have wasted my life.[3]

In a world where politicians viscously attack each other in order to win elections where terrorists blow up innocent people in the name of “right religion,” where even church people want to label and divide us all into different camps--in this kind of world we could sure use some humility. Humble people convert others by the way they live-not by condemning them.  According to the letter of James, a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.

 Finally, a humble person has the heart of a servant. They show no partiality or favoritism to those who will help them advance their agendas. They focus on the welfare of others--not for their own gain--but for the love of Christ. These are thankful people, who know that all they have is a gift from God.  They often give to others because they themselves have received. Those who’ve lost a family member are the first to take food to the bereaved. Those who’ve been in the hospital know how important it is to visit the hospitalized. Those who’ve been lonely call and visit others who are lonely. Those who’ve seen tight financial times, freely give of their own resources to provide food and clothing for the poor.

It takes a lot of grace to be humble. We’ll have to become like children and come to God in weakness and trust. We’l1 have to recognize that we’re nothing special except for the gifts we’ve been given: the gift of Christ in our hearts giving us life; the power of the Holy Spirit to give us hope; and the grace of our Creator giving us faith and love. “God yearns jealously for the spirit that he has made to dwell in us,” says the Letter of James, “But he gives us all the more grace; therefore ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’ ”

WHO JESUS IS?

Proper 19B-1-September 13, 2009

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 116:1-8; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38

With Fall education programs under way and Sunday school teachers beginning another year, it’s appropriate that teaching is in all three lessons for today.  While it’s disconcerting to hear in the letter of James: “Not many of you should become teachers…” Isaiah indicates that teaching is a gift from God. “The Lord has given me the tongue of a teacher,” he says, “that I may be able to sustain the weary with a word.”  

And in the Gospel account for today, Jesus, the Teacher, seems to be giving his disciples a test.  Perhaps he wants to know what they have learned so far.  It’s important to any teacher to find out what their students really know. After a time of instruction and interaction, a good teacher wants to find out how much the students have retained.  And if what they’ve retained has made a difference in their lives.

Jesus has spent the first half of Mark’s Gospel teaching the public and the disciples.  Now he wants to know how much of his teaching has sunk in.  How much has sunk in with the crowds?  How much has sunk in with his disciples?  Earlier in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus had told the Parable of the Sower.  Now Jesus wants to know how much of the “seed” he scattered has fallen on good ground. So he asks the disciples, “Who do people say that I am.”

The disciples answer that the public sees Jesus in one of three ways.  First they see him as John the Baptist reincarnated.  (Never mind that Jesus didn’t wear hair shirts or dine on locusts and honey).  They both preached repentance and the imminent reign of God.   

But then others believe Jesus to be Elijah.  This is also understandable.  Elijah had been steadfast in his faith and things happened when he prayed.  He had not died but was “assumed” into heaven by the whirlwind.  His return as the precursor to the Messiah was expected by all—a hope that the Jews still maintain to this day. 

Or, he is also perceived as a prophet.  A prophet was a spokesperson sent on a mission from God. And he was inspired by God to reveal some secret thing.  A prophet was to speak the Divine will in a way that would challenge people to grasp it and respond accordingly.

Through the mouths of prophets, the Divine plan was set forth.  Though sometimes prophets did foretell the future, they were mainly “forth-tellers.” They revealed God’s designs for salvation, and often set these designs in motion.  Given this view of a prophet, it isn’t hard to see why people would think of Jesus as one.  And this was true even though no one had seen a real prophet for four hundred years.          

But then, Jesus wants to know, what did the disciples think?  What was their personal response?  Not what the other people thought or what the legal experts thought or what the people of Nazareth thought—but what did they think?  What did they believe deep down in their hearts?  Those in his inner circle, those who had lived and worked with Jesus as no one else had—what did they think?

Peter makes the claim for all of them: “You’re the Messiah.”  It’s realized revelation. The teaching of the master has not been in vain.  Even though his students had missed the point countless times before, now they have broken through to the truth.

However, Peter and the disciples seem to have only half a Gospel.  They understand Jesus the Messiah as the promised liberator–king like David.  The Messiah, in other words, was supposed to be a Military conqueror.  As King Oehmig puts it:

(In their eyes, Jesus is supposed to be) the one on whom a ticker tape parade will be bestowed. (He’s) the one who will sign a seven–figure contract with a publisher and write his memoirs.  Naturally he’ll …have an I. Q. of 200.  He’ll dazzle the press, dominate the blogs and set about perfecting a New World Order….pronto![1]

But then, Jesus plainly tells the disciples the kind of suffering Messiah he’ll be. (Though, he will rise on the third day.)  Maybe Peter didn’t hear the part about the third day.  Maybe he got stuck on the part about “suffering” and “rejection.” For whatever reason, Peter lost his composure and forgot which of them was the Teacher and which was the student.  He takes Jesus aside to try and set him straight. 

Have you ever been tempted to do that?  Have you ever thought: “Lord you don’t understand how this is supposed to work.  Let me tell you about it again.” That’s where Peter is.  “Lord it will never happen to you!” he says to Jesus. “I won’t let it happen to you!” No doubt Peter had already been picturing himself as Secretary of State in Jesus’ new regime.  Then what Jesus had said demolished all his dreams for the future. 

Just as in the Parable of the Sower, “Satan” has snatched away the “seed” that was sown in Peter. And Jesus uses the sternest rebuke that he can.  It’s the same kind of rebuke he used to silence the demons (Mark 1:25, 3:12) and the wind (4:9).   Jesus chastises him in the sternest way.  And instead of answering him in the private context that Peter had created, Jesus calls all in the crowd together.  And then with the force of a statement like “NOW HEAR THIS!,’ he says these words:  “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” 

What a shocker! It makes you wonder why Peter and the disciples didn’t withdraw from Jesus at that point.  Was this the kind of life for which they’d left families, homes, and occupations? The temptation to call it quits must have been a real possibility.  Sometimes we also try to make Jesus into our own image.  Inside the crowded corridors of the church world, we still struggle with what it means to follow Jesus.   

The early Church well understood what this meant.  They lived in a climate of persecution, rejection, and execution just for being a Christian.  Yet, there is still a surviving Latin proverb from that time.  It says: “Via Crucis, Via Lucis” or “The Way of the Cross is the Way of Light.”

 If we are totally honest, we modern Christians will admit that we don’t want any part of self-denial.  We don’t like self-denial and we avoid carrying a cross. William Willimon once said;

To help us avoid the cross, our theologies first minimize our participation in evil, and then inflate our possibilities for goodness…I’m O.K. and you’re O.K. and the Department of Health and Human Services will make our community a nice place to live.  Unable to be obedient or courageous, we are content to be decent.[2] 

But Jesus is saying that, when we follow him, we can’t stand at the intersection of two opposing world views.  What are those opposite views?  Well, on the one side: “I” is the first letter of the alphabet. There it’s both acceptable and even expected that a person would act in his or her own interests.  There we find individualism and materialism, fame and glory, acquisition and conquest.  But on the other side there is only one thing:  God’s agenda.  As people of God we’re called to make a conscious choice to follow God’s agenda-- even when it means standing in the difficult places.

There is a story told about the great psychiatrist Viktor Frankl.  After giving an address in Melbourne, Australia, he was given a boomerang as a gift.  He commented that the boomerang reminded him of our human existence.  (He said that) people assume that the function of a boomerang is to return to the thrower.  But the real function of the boomerang is to hit the target and to return to the thrower only if it misses the target.

The same is true of life (he continued).  We return to ourselves, to become self-absorbed and preoccupied, only when we have failed to find meaning in life.  The meaning of life is to move us out beyond ourselves, beyond our own meaning and therefore to find meaning.  If we live only unto ourselves, spending money only for ourselves, squandering our time and our strength only on ourselves, focusing chiefly on ourselves, (then) life boomerangs and comes back to us with only ourselves to show for it.[3]      

“If any want to become my followers,” Jesus said, “let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and the sake of the gospel, will find it”

TWO HEALINGS

Proper 18B-1-September 6, 2009

Isaiah 35:4-7a; Psalm 146; James 2:1-10, 14:1; Mark 7:24-37

Sometimes I like to go out in public incognito. All clergy do from time to time.  There are always people who turn and stare when they see a clerical collar, especially when a woman is wearing it.  After 18 years, I’m use to it.  Still, there are times when I like to go incognito and wear ordinary clothes.      

In today’s gospel passage Jesus is going incognito.  Listen to some of the phrases in today’s Gospel passage. “He entered a house and didn’t want anyone to know he was there.”  “He took him aside in private, away from the crowds.”  “Then he ordered them to tell no one.” 

Today, Mark gives us an account of two healings in two totally different settings.  And in both of them, Jesus seems to be avoiding crowds of people. Last week, we heard about that confrontation with the Pharisees over his disciples not washing their hands.  He’d stirred things up then by saying that no food is unclean.  Now he’s gone away to the region of Tyre—and he “didn’t want anyone to know he was there.”        

Why is Jesus avoiding crowds?  Mark doesn’t tell us exactly why but there are lots of theories out there.  My first thought was maybe Jesus was an introvert. (I’ve been reading a book about introverts and the gifts that they have.) Could Jesus have been an introvert?  Introverts enjoy being in a crowd only so long and then they need to get away.

I knew a bishop once who was like that. When he came for his annual parish visit we’d have a big reception after church in his honor.  He’d always come to the reception but after a while we’d look around and find him gone.  When we went to look for him, we’d find him out in the parking lot just staring off into space. I also knew a priest who brought books to all the church social events. When the crowds got to be too much for him, he’d go off to an empty room and read.     

We really don’t know whether Jesus was an Introvert or an Extrovert.  But we do know that in his humanity “he was tempted in every way as we are, yet did not sin” (BCP p. 379).   So he models for us the way we’re to live and to work as the people of God.  He shows us how to go about our calling in the world.

And the first thing he shows us is to take time to rest.  Jesus took Sabbath time.  He knew the importance of time apart to rest, to renew and to pray.  How difficult that is for today.  We have so little time to spare in our oh-so-busy world.  We try to just keep on going with no time off.  And then we wonder why we’ve become less and less effective in our work, in our family relationships, in our calling as Christians.  We can’t keep on running on an empty tank.  If Jesus took Sabbath time off, how much more, then, should we?   

Away from his usual locale Jesus tries to hide out. But this time it doesn’t work.  Even though it’s a foreign town, the rumors of his healings have preceded him. And the rumors reach the ears of a desperate mother.  She’s a Greek woman, a pagan, and a Gentile.  But her child is very ill so she goes and finds Jesus and asks for his help.

 Jesus responds to her request in a way that sounds harsh to our ears.  But N. T. Wright says we’re to read the conversation as a kind of teasing dialogue between Jesus and the woman.

The tone of voice throughout, though urgent is nevertheless that of teasing banter (he says).  Some have tried to say…that the woman was correcting and rebuking Jesus’ viewpoint.  But this is hardly what Mark intended.  She accepts, after all, the apparent insult and turns it to her advantage. (Jews often thought of Gentiles as dogs, and what Gentiles said about Jews was usually just as uncomplimentary.)

(The point is that Jesus) believed, as any Jew of that period might, that if and when Israel was redeemed, that would be the time for the rest of the world to be brought under the saving rule of… God….. The Gentiles would be brought in soon enough. But Israel had to be first.[1]  

In other words, according to the common interpretation, Gentiles would come in through Israel.       

So Jesus already has an agenda when approached by the woman.  His ministry is to redeem his own people.  At this time, in his mind, it is limited to them.   But something happens in this exchange with the woman.  He suddenly changes his mind and heals the Gentile woman’s daughter.  “You may go,” he says, “the demon has left your daughter.”   Perhaps Jesus recognized that his Father’s agenda was different than his own.   

And so must we.  Unless we are open to God’s agenda, we may miss out on some of the miracles that God wants to accomplish through us.  And without God’s guidance we’re simply limited to our own “to- do” lists for the day.   God presents us with unexpected opportunities and wider horizons than we can imagine.

We are not doing it alone, (says Joan Chittister) and we are not doing it without purpose. God is with us, holding us up so that the reign of God may be made plain in us and become hope to others.[2]

Jesus followed his Father’s agenda.  Will we recognize God’s agenda for us when it arrives in surprising ways?   

Then Jesus goes back to the region near the Sea of Galilee. There a deaf and mute man is brought to him for healing.  This time Jesus doesn’t heal from a distance as he did with the woman’s daughter.  For this man, who cannot hear, Jesus uses touching as a kind of sign language.   And he does it in private away from the noisy crowds.  Noisy crowds are not conducive to prayer—especially when that prayer is for healing.

King Oehmig describes how healing happens today in quiet places.  He says:    

……. the healing of a deaf man with a speech impediment, stands in a long line of quiet healings that have gone on in Christianity since day one.  In many ways, the story brings to mind the thousands of healing services that take place in parishes throughout the world….  The hurting and the needy gather in a ‘quiet place,’ usually a chapel, to receive the medicine of Jesus: the laying on of hands and the anointing with consecrated oil in the power of the Spirit. 

Just as Jesus ‘took aside’ the suffering man to minister the healing power of the Age to Come, so these needy ones at Parish healing services ‘come away’ to a quiet, removed place to receive God’s healing power….Human need reaches out to the unfathomable love of God, and the Gospel happens—perhaps in the most powerful way it can happen….Quietly.[3]

When the man’s ears are opened and his tongue is freed, Jesus orders them to tell no one.  This is typical in Mark and is known as the “Messianic secret.” Jesus didn’t use what he did for publicity. He did not draw attention to himself during or after a healing. These healing acts were not done for the purpose of Evangelism.  This is contrary to common practice today.

We expect healings to take place on Main Street or in a revival tent.  We expect them to happen on TV in a vast auditorium led by popular evangelists or famous healers.  We expect thousands of people to be present and music augmented by the latest in technology.  But Jesus seems to heal out of compassion. There were no 800 numbers to call, no websites to consult, no books for sale or tracts to hand out.  Just a power greater than anything they could imagine; a power that released in them a power for wholeness.  And such authentic quiet grace that others were drawn to Him over and over again.

Jesus took time for Sabbath rest.  He recognized his Father’s agenda.  He prayed in quiet places.  And he didn’t draw attention to himself.  By example he pointed the way that we need to follow. Every place where Jesus healed became a new Bethlehem, a place of new birth. And it’s still available for the asking. 

So, where is it that healing happens? It’s anywhere that new life comes. It’s anywhere that new hope, new possibilities are born.  It’s any place where someone is grasped by the grace of a loving and healing God.  It’s anywhere that someone is touched by Jesus and receives that healing touch in faith.  Jesus says to each one of us “Be opened.”  How will we respond?

OBEDIENCE FROM THE HEART

Proper 17B–1-August 30, 2009

Deuteronomy 4:1-9; Psalm 15; James 1:17-27; Mark 7:1-8,14-15,21-23

The late Clarence Jordan, author of the Cotton Patch Gospels, and founder of Koinonia, spoke about inward character as the foundation of righteousness. Jordan taught his community, that the way a person did a thing, and why he or she did it, were just as important as what the person did.

The attitude of the heart, not just the act, was most important. To bring the point home, he would ask people, if chaining a vicious dog to a tree so it wouldn’t bite anyone would make it a “good” dog.  No, he would say, because the dog’s goodness would be limited to the length of the chain.  But if the dog was tamed and made gentle there would be no need for a chain.  His point was that external constraints wouldn’t be needed if the internal attitudes of the heart were right. 

In today's Gospel, Jesus tells the Pharisees that their hearts are focused too much on external rituals and not on the things of God.  In fact their hearts seem to be focused on trivial details. They've become overly focused on proper behavior and actions and forgotten the meaning behind them. The Pharisees were not evil people.  They were trying to be good by following the traditions handed down to them over time. But in the process, these devout religious leaders had developed some very high standards for themselves and for everyone else.

They’re quick to point out that Jesus and the disciples weren’t behaving correctly. By their standards, Jesus was quite careless in keeping the purity laws and traditions. He'd been seen laying hands on a leper and a dead child.  He'd been seen sitting down to supper with a house full of sinners. He'd even healed people on the Sabbath and didn't act sorry at all. Now, his disciples had been seen eating without washing their hands.

The issue wasn’t about proper hygiene or good table manners. The disciples of Jesus were ignoring traditional teachings, if not the law. To the Pharisees washing the hands signified moral purity.  But over time their rituals had become so nit-picking and detailed that they’d become empty of all spiritual meaning. Still, in the minds the Pharisees, these rituals were essential to being right with God.    

William Barclay tells us what was involved.

The hands to begin with had to be free of any other substance like sand or mortar (he says). The water for washing had to be kept in special stone jars used for no other purpose. The hands were washed first with the fingers pointing upward. The water was poured over them so that it ran down to the wrists. The minimum to be used was equal to one and a half eggshells of water. While the hands were still wet each hand had to be cleansed with the fist of the other.  

At this stage, the water on the hands was not considered clean because it had touched the dirty hands. So next the hands had to be turned downward and more water poured over them so that it ran from the wrists downward. After all of this had been done then the hands were considered ritually clean.[1]

To fail to do this in all of that exact detail, says Barclay, was to be unclean in the sight of God. The rules were so strict that a Rabbi who once omitted the ceremony was buried in excommunication. And another Rabbi, imprisoned by the Romans, used his drinking water to ritually wash and nearly died of thirst.

In response to the Pharisees question about why his disciples ate with “defiled hands,” Jesus quotes from Isaiah 29:  “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me…”  According to King Oehmig:

Nowhere in the four Gospels is Jesus ever astounded by anyone’s righteousness. Never is he impressed by an individual’s education, cleverness, or their ability (to perform rituals exactly).  Only one thing seemed to amaze him: true faith.[2] 

And such faith comes from the heart.  In scripture, the heart is more than just a pump to circulate blood.  It’s the center of emotions and the source of all wisdom, understanding and discernment. It's pivotal to decision-making and commitment.  And, according to Jesus, the heart is an inner pipeline to the spiritual realm. It's the very door to joy, love, and courage.  But it can also be the source of pride, ill-temper and general evil.

It's such an important thing that Jesus knows about us (says Barbara Brown Taylor). And it's so hard for us to hear him. The danger is not out there with the people who frighten and disturb us. The danger is in here….There is actual evil in the world, no doubt about it. But until we meet up with the evil in ourselves we cannot do battle. We can't fight the shadow (that) we will not own.[3]

And externals will do nothing to change that.  According to Jesus, it’s not what goes into a person that defiles them. It’s what comes out.  “There is nothing outside a person, (he says) that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile. For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come.” He was addressing a different external this time--the belief that certain foods were unclean.  Eating the wrong food, he was saying, is not as important as what is in the heart and how that is expressed.

“So much for all those antioxidants and fish oil,” quips King Oemig. “So much for adding up all those fat grams and shunning products whose labels reveal too many additives.  So much for protein diets and carb counting as a path to goodness.” [4] 

We don’t have the same dietary laws as the Pharisees did.  But when it comes to health we do tend to put all of the emphasis on food. The common, unchallenged wisdom of our day is: “you are what you eat.” And, while it is important to eat in a healthy way, that isn’t all that impacts our health.  Recent medical studies have shown that negative emotions and negative thoughts also have a negative effect on physical health.  While an active personal faith has a positive effect. [5]      

Jesus is saying that what’s in our hearts—spiritually, emotionally and intellectually--is what can defile.  Not just what we eat.  What comes out of our hearts can either bring more love into the world or more alienation.      

Psalm 51:10 says:  “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” And therein lies the answer to what really matters.  Rules can’t replace the presence of the living God who changes human hearts.  Modern medicine may not yet have found a foolproof answer to heart disease—but Jesus proclaims one way that our hearts can be healed.  By the grace of a loving God, and the willingness to become new.  So let us begin now—starting from the inside out..        

THE FULL ARMOR OF GOD

Proper 16B – August 23, 2009

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18; Ephesians 6: 10-20; John 6:56-69

One thing about human beings, that hasn’t changed much over time, is our tendency to make war.  Go back as far as you can and you’ll find warfare.  It’s described in the most ancient stories of the Bible. The peoples, the methods, and the weapons may have changed but the underlying human flaw has not.  According to author Helmut Nichols, one of the first peoples to ever wear armor were the ancient Sumerians of Abraham’s day.[1]

An occupation that grew out of these old forms of warfare was the blacksmith. He was the one who made weapons of iron to be used in war.  But every blacksmith knew that there were two kinds of military arms: defensive and offensive.  Weapons were offensive. They were meant to kill. But armor was meant to protect and to preserve life.

The only armor most of us have ever seen is in the movies or when visiting old castles in Europe. We relate armor to stories of medieval knights like Sir Lancelot. He would have worn protective armor.  He would have worn a helmet to protect his face and head; armor for his shoulders and lower arms.  His hands would have been covered by gauntlets.  Covering and protecting his chest was the breastplate and then there was armor for his legs and feet.  His left hand would hold a shield; his right hand a sword, which the only offensive weapon of all his equipment. 

Everyone who wore such a suit of armor knew to put on all the pieces.  They couldn’t just put on one part of it and leave the rest of the body unprotected. They couldn’t put on the gauntlets and leave off the helmet. Everyone knew that they had to put on the whole armor before going into a battle.    

So it is for the Apostle Paul. He knows that Christians too need a full armor for protection during spiritual battles. He’s advising the Christians of Ephesus to put on the whole armor of God in order to protect themselves from the powers of evil.

Put on the whole armor of God (he says) so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.  For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.  Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.[2]

Paul is talking about spiritual warfare using the language of his day.  He’s describing the reality of evil in the world.  And this is just as true today. We’re not simply fighting against our own egos, our own selfishness (though there is that).  Nor are we fighting against our own little addictions and passions, though these are there as well. We’re fighting against something that at times seems larger than our selves.

Even the smaller struggles of individuals can be a part of the battle.  “For some reason,” says N. T. Wright, “whenever I write about passages dealing with spiritual warfare, I run into problems. One time a workman outside the house drove a nail through a main electricity cable and I lost half an hour’s writing on the word processor. Sometimes domestic crises suddenly arise and distract me. Today the computer jammed completely just when I was about to begin writing.  I’ve come to accept this as normal—and to be grateful that this is all that has happened. So far.

I don’t claim that this of itself makes my work anything special (he continues). But I have noticed, over the years, that the topic of spiritual warfare is itself the subject of spiritual warfare. It is as though certain hidden forces would much rather we didn’t talk about it, or that we swept it under the carpet…What we have in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians is a sober, realistic assessment both of the struggle that we’re engaged in and of the weapons at our disposal.  What is required again and again is that Christians must face the daily and yearly battle for the kingdom.”[3]

It is, of course, a surprise to many people that there’s a “struggle” at all. Yes, they think, we find it difficult from time to time to practice our Christianity. We find it hard to forgive people, to pray regularly, to resist temptation, to learn more about the faith. But as far as they’re concerned, that’s the end of it. They’ve never really thought that their small struggles might be part of a larger battle. They’re like soldiers fighting in a fog: never seeing, and actually not knowing about, the others not far away in the same battle line, let alone the other theatres where the war is continuing.

In most major conflicts, hardly any front-line soldiers know much about the rest of the war. That’s the job of the generals. But at least they know that something is going on, and that their small piece is a part of that larger whole. That’s the perspective that every Christian needs to keep as we hold down our part of the line against attack.

And holding out against attack is what this passage is all about. The weapons Paul speaks of are mainly defensive, equipping us to withstand attack and still be standing up at the end of the day. The belt, the breastplate, the shoes, the shield and the helmet, are all to enable us to remain safe when under attack. Notice what the Christian’s defensive armor consists of.

First is truth.  The primary thing about the gospel is that it is true.  If it isn’t true then it’s meaningless. We don’t say that it’s true just because it works.  It works because it’s true.  Even one voice speaking the truth can pierce through lies of evil. Never give up on the sheer truth of the gospel. Live truthfully.  It’s like the belt which holds everything together.

Second is “justice” or “righteousness.” This isn’t just virtue--important though that is.  It’s the fact that the one true God is the one true judge and intends to make the whole world right again. The process has already begun in Jesus and we are already justified in him. We’re to live then as if God’s righteous reign has begun. We’re to live striving to right injustices in his Name. The status that Christians already have is like a breastplate protecting us against frontal attack.

Third is the “gospel of peace.”  We’re to be messengers of peace between family members, co-workers and people of with differing viewpoints.  The evil one will do all he can to knock us off our feet. Holding fast as peacemakers will make us ready, like good shoes or boots would do, to stay upright.

Fourth is the shield of faith.  We’re to trust in Jesus as our risen Lord.  This will protect us when the enemy hurls flaming arrows at us.  These arrows can take many forms: like doubt or despair, difficult circumstances; sharp temptation; or personal tragedy.  The arrows may even take the form of personal success that then tempts us to arrogance and pride.  Our faith in the risen Lord is able to quench them all.     

Fifth is the helmet of salvation. Knowing that we’ve already been rescued from the ultimate enemy helps us to face all secondary enemies without fear.  Sixth is the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.  Here is the only offensive weapon named and mighty it is.  The words of Jesus and the Apostle Paul and the Old Testament are not merely words printed on pages of a dusty book.  God’s words are living words, intended to live in us. 

And finally, to help us in our calling, we’re to pray in the Spirit at all times.  We’re to pray for one another and that the mystery of the gospel will be boldly proclaimed.  “Be strong in the Lord,” Paul tells us. “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Take up the whole armor of God so that…..having done everything we may then stand firm.”