Pentecost 22-B: A journey of faith

Proper 25 Lectionary: Jeremiah 31:7-9; Psalm 126 ; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52



En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

Today’s reading from the gospel of Mark is the conclusion of a very long and patient teaching by Jesus which Mark begins describing in chapter 8. On this journey, Jesus is helping his followers understand their own blindness so that they can be opened to the enlightenment that comes from God alone.

This is Jesus’ final journey, so he’s preparing the disciples to be bearers of the Good News of salvation in Jesus Christ to the whole world. But this salvation - what it is, who it’s for, and how it will happen, isn’t anything like they are expecting. It isn’t much like we have come to expect either, so this lesson is as important for us now as it was for the disciples then.

(See the MAP insert in the bulletin)

The journey begins in the northern part of Israel with the story of the feeding of the 4,000. A crowd has gathered and they have nothing to eat. Jesus has compassion for them because they are hungry (actually and spiritually), and tells the disciples to feed them.

With what? All we have are a few loaves and fish. But their faith in Jesus and willingness to obey, even in the face of evidence that it’s impossible, makes way for God’s abundance and grace to be manifest.

Next they head for Dalmanutha (near Magdala) where Jesus is tested by the Pharisees. Frustrated by their blindness and lack of faith, Jesus decides not to stop and engage with them. His time had not yet come.

So they head to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. On the way, the disciples realize they forgot to bring bread and worry that Jesus will be upset with them. Jesus asks them: “Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not perceive or understand? ...Do you have eyes, and fail to see?” (8:17-18)

So, on they go to Bethsaida where Jesus cures a blind man, but the cure isn’t immediate. It takes a couple of tries. Sometimes our faith and our spiritual sight take time to happen.

They continue north to Caesarea Philippi. This is where Jesus asks the disciples who people say he is, and Peter responds: ‘You are the Messiah.’ (8:29) Jesus affirms Peter’s revelation but sternly orders the disciples not to tell anyone.

NOW the time has come. God’s promise of salvation is about to be fulfilled, but it isn’t what anyone is expecting: Jesus says, “… the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders …and be killed, and after three days rise again.” (8:31) Salvation in Jesus won’t be a regional military victory, but a world-wide, eternal reality and it will happen in a most unexpected way - on a cross.

Peter forbids Jesus to speak like that and Jesus rebukes Peter: “Get behind me Satan! …If any want to become my followers, 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 for the sake of the gospel, will save it. (8:33-35)

A quick stop at a nearby mountain for the transfiguration, then they go on to another healing – a boy whom the disciples were unable to heal. Frustrated again, Jesus gets direct: “You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you?” (9:19)

Then he teaches them for the second time, “the Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.”(9: 31) Mark tells us that at this point, the disciples didn’t understand what Jesus was saying, but now they’re afraid to ask.

Southward they go through Galilee to Capernaum and the teaching continues. In Capernaum, you’ll remember, Jesus caught the disciples arguing over who was the greatest among them. So Jesus offers a teaching which upends their expectations about the rich, the powerful, and the insiders.

In the kingdom of God ALL are welcome, including the least, the powerless, and the outsider – and he makes very clear what the insider’s responsibility is to the outsider: if your hand, that is, one of your members, causes one of these who is new in their faith to stumble, cut that hand off.

Onward they go to the region of Judea… As usual, crowds form and Jesus stops to teach them. Here again the Pharisees test Jesus, asking about divorce. Jesus contrasts the hardness of heart of those who crush faith and life with rules against the tender innocence of dependent children. All who wish enter the kingdom of God, Jesus says, must be like these children.

Then they run across the rich young man whom Jesus held up as an example of how hard it will be for one who is secure and self-reliant to enter the kingdom of God. As you remember, this teaching astounded the disciples whose expectations are finally beginning to crumble. Jesus repeats his teaching about salvation in the kingdom of God: “many who are first will be last and the last will be first.” (10:31)

Next Mark tells us about James and John asking for a place of honor when Jesus is glorified. By now you can almost hear Jesus’ sigh. He knows they’re still thinking in terms of military victory, not eternal salvation. I can’t promise you the honor you seek, Jesus says, but I can tell you that “The cup [of salvation] that I drink you will drink [too].” (10:39)

The rest of the followers, whose blindness also persists, are perturbed. Why should they get such a great honor? Patiently, Jesus repeats (yet again!) his teaching about salvation in the kingdom of God: “…whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. …” (10:44)

Finally, they arrive at Jericho, which is about 15 miles north of Jerusalem. The journey draws to a close much as it began, with the healing of a blind man: Bartimaeus, who was sitting on the side of the road – or as we might say it – who was ‘sidelined.’

When Bartimaeus hears Jesus coming near, he cries out for mercy. Even when “members” of Jesus community order him to stop, Bartimaeus keeps on asking.

Mark tells us that Jesus stood still. Hearing Bartimaeus’ cry for mercy, which is a call that hopes for relief from suffering, Jesus stopped what he was doing – he stopped the journey - to engage with him. This being the conclusion of the journey, however, Jesus sends his followers to bring Bartimaeus to him. He sends the disciples to do what every modern church member is called to do: invite IN those who are sidelined, powerless or dependent, saying, ‘Be of good cheer, because Jesus is inviting you to come.’

The disciples lingering blindness didn’t prevent them from leading Bartimaeus to Jesus. And there, Bartimaeus is made whole. So are the disciples, because that’s how God does things.

As Bartimaeus’ sight is restored, both his actual and spiritual sight, the same is true for the disciples, who broke open their habitual and learned boundaries in order to welcome Bartimaeus IN as a follower of Jesus on the way.

Mark’s gospel continues with the beginning of Jesus’ passion story. We, however, will stand still here, and ponder this powerful journey and what it means for us as followers of Jesus Christ.

It means that although our expectations of salvation and the kingdom of God may be off we can expect that Jesus will be as present and patient with us on our journey as he was with the disciples in their journey.

It means that we, like Jesus’ disciples, answer God’s call to us recognizing that we possess some lingering blindness, knowing that our blindness won’t prevent us from leading those whom the world has sidelined to Jesus who is their source of healing, restoration, and wholeness.

It means that when we are faithful, when we hear the call for mercy from the Bartimaeuses in our world, and answer them, we know that THEY and WE will be made whole.

It means that we, who are followers of Jesus Christ, are called to be like him and respond with mercy, that is, with motivation to relieve their suffering.

It means that relying on our faith, we maintain a willingness to obey even in the face of evidence that it’s impossible, so that we can make a way for God’s grace and abundance to be manifest in the world.

We’ve experienced this recently in our mission work at the Shepherd’s Table. As you know, we’ve begun Life Skills classes between breakfast and lunch. We asked our guests a question similar to the one Jesus asked Bartimaeus: ‘What would you like us to do for you?’ And they answered us.

We’ve offered everything from drying and using herbs to reconciling a bank statement. An exciting new development is that now we are working on becoming an off-site G.E.D. location for Cleveland Community College. Nearly 20 of our guests have already signed up!

It’s important for us to ask the question that Jesus asked Bartimaeus because 1) it honors the dignity of the one being served, and 2) it acknowledges that our lingering blindness may lead us to think we know what those who are on the sidelines need, though our efforts may actually be a stumbling block to the fuller restoration God is waiting to give – to them, to us, and to the world.

 
Let us pray together the Collect for the Holy Spirit (BCP, 251): Almighty and most merciful God, grant that by the indwelling of your Holy Spirit we may be enlightened and strengthened for your service; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Pentecost 20B, 2012: Seek the Lord and live

Proper 23 Lectionary: Amos 5:6-7, 10-15; Psalm 90:12-17; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31



En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

As many of you know, I am the child of a recovering alcoholic. In fact, I’m my Dad’s A.A. baby which means I was conceived and born in his sobriety. I grew up immersed in the teachings of Alcoholics Anonymous and Al-Anon. I knew my Dad’s story well, having heard him tell of his descent into a prison that was truly hell for him and for everyone who loved him, and how though A.A. he found life and freedom again – one day at a time.

My dad was and still is very active in “the program,” as he calls it. Growing up we often awoke to find some guy asleep on our couch, “drying out” Dad would say, especially around the holidays. I don’t ever remember feeling like they were intruders in our home or our holiday. We knew somehow, that we were modeling for them what family was (imperfect as we were).

My Dad was a tough guy – a street kid from Washington Heights in NYC. He was a boxer in the Navy and a pretty aggressive businessman. But I learned more about sin and salvation, about non-judgmental compassion and service to God from Dad’s ministry to those alcoholics than from almost anywhere else – including church.

I thought of this as I pondered our lectionary for today which calls us to examine what we believe about sin, goodness, good works, and salvation, and it asks us to be honest about it.

The Old Testament reading from the prophet Amos offers a simple message: “Seek the Lord and live.” What is there to seek besides the Lord? Ourselves, and our own desires.

When we do that, the prophet warns, we lose our way and head into destruction, and what the consequences of that looks like are clearly described by Amos. But is isn’t just our own destruction the prophet warns us about. When our attention is focused on ourselves, on our own desires, our own will we do harm to others as well. Ask any alcoholic

Many people approach the Old Testament, especially the prophets, as if they are threatening:
do the right thing or be wiped out by a vengeful God. I watched a documentary last night about a Christian sect whose leader preaches mostly about hell which he says is “a literal hell, with literal fires burning right now.” (Now ‘m not making a judgment here about what he believes. He could be right.) But he goes on to say, “I was saved, because I didn’t want to die and go to hell.”

In that same documentary, I learned of a place called St. Patrick’s Purgatory, which is believed to be a portal into hell. It’s on an island in Ireland, and pilgrims still go there to fast, make sacrifices, and do penance in hopes of avoiding hell in the next life. The legend says if you go there three times you will never enter into hell.

I confess that I cannot understand salvation this way. I can’t understand becoming a follower out of fear rather than in response to the overwhelming Love of God.

When the prophet Amos says, “Seek the Lord and live” he’s saying that God, who is Love, is the source of life. The breath of God, the spirit of God gives us life. What can exist outside of the will of God? Who can live unless God chooses to breathe life into us?

“Seek the Lord and live.” Our life is found only in God who is gracious, and when God’s grace is upon us, the works of our hands are prospered, that is, we are given to good works.

In order for the graciousness of God to be upon us, we must, as medieval mystic Meister Eckhart said, detach from all else – from ourselves, from our wills, from our desires. We must turn our attention from what we want, from our goals, and seek only what God desires… what God wills.

But that’s hard to do. We live in a world which constantly tells us that we should want to be happy, beautiful, successful, and adored. We live in a world where “true love” is found buffet-style on reality TV, where body plastic has become the norm, where apprenticeships are won by the most manipulative and deceitful, and where personal value is calculated by the number of followers one has on Twitter or the heftiness of one’s bank account.

The message is: more is better. More stuff. More clout. More blessing. It’s an addiction in its truest form, and it isn’t so different for the rich man in today’s gospel story. A faithful believer, the rich man asks an honest question of Jesus – how can I be sure I will inherit eternal life?

Jesus answers like a rabbi would: ‘You know the commandments… don’t murder or commit adultery… don’t steal or bear false witness… don’t defraud… and honor your father and mother.' Isn’t that an interesting group of 6 of the 10 commandments Jesus chose to highlight?

And anyway, who can tell me… what number was the “thou shalt not defraud” commandment? It wasn’t. Jesus interpreted the “thou shalt not covet” commandment (# 10) for this rich man, who probably didn’t want much of what his neighbors had.

‘But I’ve kept these commandments from my youth,’ the rich man tells Jesus. I’ve lived a righteous life. See how blessed I am.

Jesus looks at him, looks deeply into his heart, and sees the sin there. Our Prayer Book says, “Sin is the seeking of our own will instead of the will of God…” (Catechism, BCP, 848) And as Paul Tillich says, sin is the state of being that separates us from God. Like this rich man, we can obey all of the rules and still sin.

So Jesus looks deeply, thoroughly, lovingly at this man and offers him a balm for his deepest suffering: freedom from his sin.

“There is one thing you lack,” Jesus says to him. ‘Detach from your stuff – from the symbols of your happiness, the evidence of your blessing. Give to the poor – empty yourself and your life of all that distracts you. Then come and follow me.’

Or, as Amos said it, ‘Seek the Lord and live.’

Mark tells us that the man was shocked by what Jesus said, and that “he went away grieving because he had many possessions.” It doesn’t say the man didn’t do as Jesus asked, only that he left deeply saddened and distressed by what God had asked of him.

I think most of us have this same kind of response when we get real about what God is asking from us… partly because God’s desire for us is so radically different from what the world teaches us to desire for ourselves; and partly because it’s just plain hard to detach.

After his encounter with the rich man, Jesus turns to his disciples and helps them detach from an idea that is a hindrance to their understanding of and service to God: the notion that living righteously will bring God’s blessing and living sinfully will bring God’s curse upon our lives.

Jesus says to them, "How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!" This totally unhinges the disciples, who wonder… ‘if one whose life is clearly blessed by God can’t enter the kingdom of God…’ “Then who can be saved?”

Peter responds like the rich man did. ‘But Jesus, we’ve done that. We’ve left our homes and our families to follow you. What else do we need to do?’

And Jesus assures them, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be rewarded for your faithfulness, here in this life and eternally. But remember, it is God’s way, God’s will that is at work here so it may not look like or be like you’re expecting.

There are many who think they will be first in line to the kingdom of God because of their goodness or their good works, but they will be last because God knows the sin that lives in their hearts. And those who know their sin and stand humbly in the presence of God, those who willingly hold the last place in line will be the first ones welcomed into the kingdom.

Good works cannot save us. Following rules cannot save us. Only God can save us – and God has done that already in Jesus Christ because God loves us.

Our salvation doesn’t make us sinless. It makes us forgiven. It makes us free.

I close with the Prayer for the Victims of Addiction because it applies to all of us: O blessed Lord, you ministered to all who came to you: Look with compassion upon all who through addiction have lost their health and freedom. Restore to them the assurance of your unfailing mercy; remove from them the fears that beset them; strengthen them in the work of their recovery; and to those who care for them, give patient understanding and persevering love. Amen. (BCP, 831)


Note: The icon used as illustration is an 18th century Russian icon of the prophet Amos (Iconostasis of Transfiguration Church,Kizhi monastery, Karelia, Russia).

Pentecost 19B sermon by Deacon Pam: How hard is your heart?

Proper 22 Lectionary: Genesis 2:18-24; Psalm 8; Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12; Mark 10:2-16

When Mother Valori asked me to switch Sundays with her, I thought "Yeah!I've won the lectionary roulette! I won't have to preach on 'cut off your hand, cut off your foot'...Then I realized "Divorce! I got divorce!"

As I prepared for today, as I read through commentaries and lectionary discussions and sermon helps, I was struck by how many of them advised that I run, not walk, away from this lectionary, saying things like:

"Most will try to avoid preaching on this Gospel lesson, and who can blame them; we know you don't want to talk about this lesson from Mark, talking about this teaching on divorce is fraught with difficulties and the potential for misunderstanding." But at the same time some of those same folks said "but you must, you must, especially if the lessons are read aloud in your church-you must."

So what's with these seemingly divergent thoughts?

I think in part the writers felt it had to be addressed because it's difficult to put something like that out there and not say something about it. It's similar to part of the Gospel from last week that I've already mentioned-the part about cutting off your foot or your hand - it's not a lesson you can ignore or skip over. Whether you like it or not, you going to have to deal with it.

I think the writers were also thinking about the typical church family. Think about Redeemer for a second.

Some of us are married, some are divorced and some are divorced and re-married. Some of us are single and long to be married. Some of us, because of sexual orientation, can't get legally married-or divorced-in most states, yet have the same relationship issues as any married couple. Some of us dealt with it in our families of origin as children when our parents decided to divorce. It would be hard to find someone that doesn't have some relatable experience, whether in one's own life or that of a friend or family member.

And it is important to talk about it because of how this passage has been used by the church to judge those who have gotten divorced. I have certainly thought a great deal about people I am familiar with, people I know and care about, who have been wounded, have been marginalized, often in God's name, because of divorce.

Divorce was an issue in Jesus' day as well. Keep in mind that marriage, and divorce, have changed a great deal and looked much different then than now. Some religious leaders taught it was legal for a man to divorce his wife only in cases of infidelity; others felt is was lawful for almost any reason. While we don't know definitely if it was what they believed or if they just wanted to 'set him up' so to speak, the Pharisees who approached Jesus to test him were referencing the latter teaching.

They were referring to a passage in the 24th chapter of Deuteronomy that states if a woman does not please her husband, if he finds something objectionable about her, he could write a certificate of divorce and send her away. Notice the man can divorce his wife; women were not allowed to divorce their husbands under Mosaic law.

It is thought by some scholars that when Jesus mentions women divorcing their husbands in his later discussion with the disciples, he was either referencing Roman law or, the explanation I prefer, he was upending culture and law and making women equal with men.

Divorce in Jesus' time was devastating for women; at best, as this law demonstrates, women were treated as second class citizens and at worst, as something less than a human. They were treated like possessions, acquired by their husbands through the legal contract of marriage. They were powerless and they were always the victims of divorce. Because women were largely dependent on their husbands, divorce left them with almost no economic options.

Jesus' answer back to the Pharisees is less about the legality of divorce and much more about the attitude and state of their heart. He points out that while they are correct about the letter of the law, the law is not reflective of the will and heart of God but is rather a concession by Moses to human failings and human desires.

Jesus' teaching was designed to protect the "least of these" in a system where they were dismissed for the slightest provocation and to point to the real problem - hardness of the human heart. If their hearts weren't hard, Jesus is saying, there would be no need for a law permitting them to send their wives away when they became too old or sick or feeble.

And while we can be quick to feel righteous and think how terrible this practice was, we can be guilty of the same thing - in our intimate relationships, in our families, with our friends and with those in the world about us. How many people have we dismissed - perhaps in our hearts and minds, perhaps overtly - because we found in them something we didn't like, something we found objectionable, something we found displeasing. Hardness of heart wasn't just a problem in Jesus' day and isn't an issue only in marital relationships!

Think about all the things that are reflections of our own hardness of heart...

Are we insensitive to the needs of others? Do we justify not helping because we feel we've given enough and it's time for them to do it themselves or turn to someone else?

Do we fail to love and show hospitality out of prejudice and fear toward those who are different from us?

Are we carrying around resentments and anger that are killing us, poisoning our relationships and eroding our trust because we refuse to forgive someone who has hurt or disappointed us?

Have we turned a deaf ear and closed our hearts to the thoughts and ideas of those who have a different point of view? Have we allowed them voice and a place at the table with us?

Have we narrowed our vision of what God asks of us? Do we refuse to open our hearts and minds, to step into the fuller life and deeper love to which we are called? Do we criticize and find fault with the ministries of others, perhaps out of fear God might be calling us to do more as well?

It is easy to pass judgment, isn't it? And it's so easy, so tempting, to let our hardness of heart, and that of those around us, go unchallenged.

Judging the decisions others have made and especially using those decisions against them, whether we are talking about divorce or something else, is not what God calls us to do.

Jesus stood with and for those on the margins - women, children, the sick, the mentally ill, the poor, the hungry, the other, the alien. As his followers, that is our call as well - to soften our hard hearts and to show through our words and our actions that we believe the kingdom of God belongs to all.

Let us pray.

O God,
take away our hardness of heart,
our disappointment, our despair, our greed, our aloofness, our loneliness,
our hatred and our fear.
Help us to see our own errors
and not to judge those around us.
Open our eyes which are often blind to the needs of others.
Strengthen us and fill us with your love;
teach us
to use our power with care.
Bring new life where we are worn and tired and
forgiveness where we are are wounded.
May your thoughts become our thoughts,
and your ways become our ways.
Amen

Pentecost 18B, 2012: ALL Christians are meant to be prophets

Proper 21 Lectionary: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Psalm 19:7-14; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50



En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

Moses said: “Would that all the LORD's people were prophets, and that the LORD would put his spirit on them!" (Num 11:29)

My former bishop, The Rt. Rev. Bob Gepert, was fond of saying that all Christians are meant to be prophets. Bp. Gepert said this often and he meant it.

I remember that the first time I heard him say this, it shocked me a little and I found myself thinking, ‘Surely not everyone is called to be a prophet.’ I immediately thought of the Scripture verse that tells us that we are given gifts so that some of us will be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers…” (Eph 4:11) Though I was a bit shocked at first, I also felt deep down that he was right, so I’ve spent some years pondering this.

In general I try to avoid comprehensive statements – the kind that include the words ALL or NONE, ALWAYS or NEVER. But I think I’m with Bp. Gepert on this one. All Christians are meant to be prophets.

All followers of Christ are meant to be inspired teachers and proclaimers of the will of God…which is what being a prophet means. In order to do that, all Christians must be intentionally formed in our faith and encouraged to mature in that faith.

Regardless of our age, we all begin each leg of our journey of faith as “little ones” – people who are new or young in our faith. For those of you, like me, who began in a different faith tradition, do you remember what it was like learning Episcopal-speak?

I remember once being told that what I needed was in the narthex and having no idea where that was. I had been a Christian all of my life, but was, at that point, a “little one” when it came to being an Episcopal-flavored Christian. With time and continuing exposure to the Episcopal way of things, we find our rhythm and learn the language, customs, and perspective of our tradition.

For all Christians, a continuing involvement in a community of faith also enables us to see evidence that God grants gifts to everyone and often uses the least likely (in our estimation anyway) to serve, or to open the door to a life of faith for someone else. This is something the people of God have long struggled with: being as inclusive as God would have us be.

This is illustrated for us in our Old Testament reading. Moses complains to God that leading these people is too much for him. I love how Moses makes his complaint (I can relate): “Did I conceive all this people? Did I give birth to them, that you should say to me, 'Carry them in your bosom, as a nurse carries a sucking child…” (Num 11:12)

‘It’s too much for me,’ Moses says. ‘If this is how you’re going to treat me, Lord, just kill me now!’ So God tells Moses to choose seventy from among the people who can help him lead. ‘Meet me at the tent of meeting,’ God says, “I will come down and talk with you there; and I will take some of the spirit that is on you and put it on them; and they shall bear the burden of the people along with you.” (Num 11:17)

Moses obeyed, and brought the seventy to the tent of meeting. When the spirit of God rested on these chosen ones, they began to prophesy.

While Moses and God were making this new support staff, two men who weren’t at the tent of meeting also began to prophesy – in the camp where everyone else was. These men were Eldad and Medad and the Scripture tells us that the spirit of God rested on them too.

But someone ran to Joshua, who was one of Moses’ chosen 70, to tattle on Eldad and Medad. Joshua, in turn, asked Moses to tell Eldad and Medad to stop, but Moses, who was spiritually mature, wouldn’t hear of it and replied: “Would that all the LORD's people were prophets, and that the LORD would put his spirit on them!"

We see Jesus’ chosen ones dealing with a similar problem in the same way in our gospel reading. John asks Jesus to stop a stranger from casting out demons (which, by the way, the apostles had just failed to do earlier in this chapter). Make him stop, John says. He isn’t in our membership book.

Jesus’ response is radically inclusive, and crystal clear. “Don’t stop him,” (v 39) Don’t stop anyone who is manifesting the love of God.

Then Jesus turns and issues a very stern warning to the community of faith gathered there. ‘If any of you who have been around awhile, impedes a “little one,” that is, someone who is new or young in their life of faith, from using their gifts and manifesting the love of God, there’s gonna be trouble.’ Sounding a bit like Mickey Blue Eyes, Jesus warns: ‘You would be better off being tossed into the chaos waters wearing a cement overcoat. Fuggetabowdit.’ (Just kidding! There’s no record of Jesus ever saying 'Fuggetabowdit')

The next part of Jesus’ teaching isn’t a recommendation for self mutilation. Jesus is speaking to the community of faith as a body – and this may be where St. Paul derived his use of that metaphor for the church.

‘You are one body with individual members. If one of you (say, the hand) sins – remembering that to sin is to separate from God – cut it off.’ In other words, if one among you inhibits the community from manifesting the love of God, or causes the community to separate from the presence of God, “cast [that one] out, for the sake of the [whole] community.” (Source: © 1996-2012 Chris Haslam)

So the two sides of this coin are: Be inclusive - don’t stop anyone from manifesting the love of God /and/ Be discerning – do stop the one who interferes with the community as it works to grow in faith and manifest the love of God through its members.

This is a tough teaching, but it’s true… and it’s important.

We are blessed at Redeemer that God has brought to us a diversity of people who bring a diversity of gifts. And I commend the people of Redeemer for making room for everyone to use their gifts to manifest the love of God.

Some who are chosen to serve in ministries here may seem like surprising choices at times. Others are not even in our membership book! But Redeemer is living what our Lord is speaking today, because at Redeemer, ALL are welcome to manifest the love of God through their gifts.

So I guess there are two comprehensive statements I am comfortable making now:

1. ALL Christians are meant to be prophets.
2. At Redeemer, ALL are welcome to manifest the love of God.

Let’s pray.

Open our hearts, Lord God, to your grace and truth; fill us with your life-giving Spirit and make us your prophets. Grow us in our faith and help us to live in peace with one another in our community, that we may love others in the power of your Holy Spirit and manifest your love in our world. This we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

(Adapted by Mother Valori from the Baptismal prayers, BCP, 305)

Pentecost 17B, 2012: Co-creators of Love

Proper 20 Lectionary: Wisdom of Solomon 1:16-2:1, 12-22; Psalm 54 ; James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37



En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

We believe that God is love, that God is the creator of all that is, all that ever was, and all that ever will be. We believe that God’s plan of redemption is perfect, and God’s justice is sure, even knowing that how that looks often surprises us.

We believe that humanity and all creation have been redeemed by the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ. We know that we are living in the
‘already-but-not-yet’ part of the plan. Redemption has already happened, but the

process of redemption, the work of it continues until Christ comes again. We know that we are partners with Christ in this work, making us co-creators of love.

If God is love and creator of all that is, then who or what in all of creation is not of God? Yet, throughout the world we see pain, loneliness, hunger, poverty, abuse, oppression, war, betrayal. Are those of God?

When a two year old is diagnosed with leukemia and dies before she starts pre-school, is that of God? The platitude – everything happens for a reason – isn’t very helpful.

We don’t know why some things happen because we can’t see the plan of God in its fullness. Other times things happen because someone sinned, and it has nothing to do with God or God’s plan.

People sin. Terrible things happen in the world. Wrong things happen. When believers witness terrible things, wrong things, our Savior asks us to wait in faith. What we wait for is the fulfilling of God’s promise of redemption. This is the essence of Jesus’ teaching to his disciples these last few weeks in our readings from the Gospel of Mark.

Waiting is hard because as we wait we have to trust. Our power, our knowledge, our best intentions aren’t enough. Only God is enough.

In our Offertory hymn, are these words (v 3): “Teach me thy patience; still with thee/ in closer, dearer company/ in work that keeps faith sweet and strong/ in trust that triumphs over wrong.” Trust that triumphs over wrong. This is what Jesus was trying to tell his disciples they would need.

The worst was about to happen. Jesus has told his disciples several times now that he is going to be betrayed and killed. You remember that Peter didn’t want to hear that. ‘No Lord. Don’t let it be so.’

And Jesus pushed back at Peter saying, “Get behind me Satan.” ‘Don’t distract me, don’t tempt me away from the path of redeeming love being laid by God. Yes, it’s going to be awful, so you must have the kind of trust that triumphs over wrong.’

This time when Jesus reminds his disciples of the awful reality about to happen, he adds the promise of redemption: “The Son of Man is being betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed he will rise again.” Wait. Death is not the end. God’s love triumphs even over death.

Let’s let that sink in for a minute. God’s love triumphs even over death.

If we really believe that, then what is there to fear? What is there to keep us from flinging our proverbial arms wide open and welcoming everyone and everything life has to offer – knowing that everyone is included in God’s plan of redemption, and everything that happens presents us with an opportunity to be co-creators of love?

The hardest part of being co-creators of love is that we must approach everyone and everything as the Son of Man did. There was no one with whom Jesus wouldn’t connect – the clean and unclean, rich and poor, male and female, slave and free, young and old.

And when he did connect, he didn’t judge them, even when the evidence was there to convict them. Instead, he forgave them, healed them, strengthened them to live, and empowered them to love.

Jesus brought light and life to those trapped in darkness and sin and calls us to do the same. As we do this, we risk success. What if we succeed? What if we become known as the greatest church with the greatest followers of Jesus Christ in history? What if we become famous and admired, heroes and she-roes of the faith? What if we get a saint’s day in Lesser Feasts and Fasts?

Isn’t that like what the disciples were arguing about as they traveled to Capernaum? Can’t you just hear it? Peter says, ‘I’m the greatest. I’m the rock on whom Jesus plans to build the church!’ John says, ‘Yeah, well I’m the beloved disciple!’ Matthew says, ‘I’m the best liturgist.’. And everyone knows Luke is the best healer.

When they settled in for the night, Jesus asked the disciples, “What were you arguing about on the way” (like he didn’t know!) They were busted and they knew it.

But Jesus, as patient and loving as ever, took what was one of the last opportunities he had to teach them. He sat down and called the disciples to him. When a rabbi does that, it means class is in session.

‘Do you want to be great?’ Jesus asked. ‘Then you must turn away from the desire for worldly greatness and be last of all and servant of all.’

At this point, I’m picturing the blank stares on the faces of Jesus’ listeners as they try to figure this out.

Then Jesus took a little child, and holding that child in a loving embrace, he demonstrated what he meant. To the world, this child is helpless, powerless, has little to offer, and no clout whatsoever. But to heaven, this child is the face of redemption because: “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me, welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

In other words, when we connect with the helpless, the powerless, the weak, the poor, the excluded – we connect with God. They are the means by which we are co-creators of love and partners in the continuing work of redemption. As one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Dar Williams, said: “Every time you opt into kindness/ make one connection/ used to divide us/ it echoes all over the world.” (“Echoes” by Dar Williams, My Better Self album)

A child is open, trusting, and relies on her parent to know and take care of what she needs. A child offers his love freely. He knows he’s part of a family and isn’t expected to ‘go it alone.’

How are children welcomed - or not - in our churches? Do we see them as the face of redemption… as an opportunity to connect with God?

In his book “The Peaceable Kingdom” theologian Stanley Hauerwas says that “it is the privilege of Christians, as well as their responsibility to tell God’s story to those who know it not.” (44) How are we meeting this responsibility – to our actual children, and to the children of God in our local community?

“But…” Hauerwas says, “…God’s story is not merely told; it must be lived.” (44) How are we doing with this one?

Are we proclaiming by word and example the good news of God in Christ? Or are we coming to our church club just enough to ensure our reputation as a good person bound for heaven? Are we connecting our lives with the lives of the helpless, the powerless, the weak, the poor, and the excluded – recognizing in them the face of redemption?

Hauerwas said, “it is through the need of another that the greatest hindrance to my freedom, namely my own self-absorption, is finally not so much overcome as simply rendered irrelevant.” (44) I can tell you that I hear the transforming truth of this from people who volunteer at our Shepherd’s Table ministries.

As followers of Christ, you and I are walking on a path of redeeming love that is laid out for us - moment by moment - by God. Like the labyrinth, this path takes unexpected turns but always leads us home. We can’t get lost.

The path flows according to the needs God is entrusting to our attention and to our care, so… we go with the flow! It is our privilege as Christians, and our responsibility.

I close with the prayer written by the founder of Centering Prayer – Trappist monk, Thomas Merton:

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Amen.

Pentecost 16B, 2012: For the sake of the gospel

Proper 19 Lectionary: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 116:1-8; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38



En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

I begin with a quote from one of my favorites, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, who said: “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”

In our gospel reading today, we have that wonderfully uncomfortable conversation between Jesus and Peter. Jesus has asked the disciples who people are saying he is. Having done amazing things – feeding the 5000 with 2 fish and 5 loaves, opening the deaf man’s ears and loosing his tongue so he can speak plainly, Jesus wants to know ‘What are people saying about that?’

The disciples answer that the people think he might be John the Baptist, or Elijah, or a great prophet. ‘Well, you’ve been with me throughout all this,’ Jesus said. “Who do you say that I am?”

Peter answers without hesitation: “You are the Christ” (the Messiah, the Anointed One). And Jesus sternly orders them not to say that to anyone else. Why?

Maybe because their understanding was too small. The expectation was that the Messiah, the Anointed One would save the people of Israel. Like King David, the awaited Messiah would free the Jews from Roman occupation and establish peace for Israel.

But God’s plan was much bigger than that. The Word made flesh came to save the whole world, and his salvation would be eternal, not historical.

The time had come for Jesus to have a hard conversation with his disciples. By rebuking Peter, Jesus was reminding them: ‘Salvation is not what you’re thinking. You have part of it right, but there’s a bigger picture beyond your view.

So first, let me tell you what will happen to me, Jesus says. the Son of Man must suffer, be rejected by those whose opinions matter most among earthly authorities, and be killed. It will be humiliating.’

‘Now let me tell you what will happen to you Jesus says. if you keep to your own expectations and plans, if you live your life protecting yourself from darkness and judgment, if you seek the approval and blessings of those with earthly authority – you will die an eternal death.’

‘If, on the other hand, you follow me, if you willingly accept humiliation and disgrace from earthly authorities because you are living according to the teachings I have given you, if you enter the places where souls are in danger and darkness for my sake, if you and bring the light of the good news I have given you to the world, then even if you die doing that, you will have eternal life.’

We Christians are called to go wherever there are people living in darkness and despair and carry to them the light of Christ. We’re to go where the cords of death have entangled someone and set them free.

In the world, you have to prove that you are poor enough, disabled enough, or legitimately sick enough to receive help. And that’s fine for the world – but it isn’t fine for Christians.

This week I met a woman at the Shepherd’s Table. Well, I didn’t actually meet her, I was sent to her because she was causing trouble, so I went to speak with her.

The situation was this: This woman is homeless. She carries her entire world around with her in a rolling suitcase and a backpack. She’s mean and belligerent. She’s been kicked out of most of the area shelters because of her caustic behavior.

Local advocates told us she was trouble and not to give her our names. They said she “causes trouble if you do.” They also wanted nothing more to do with her – their doors are closed to her now.

I was sent to talk to this woman because she was found trying to take a bath in the bathroom sink. When some of our volunteers asked her not to do that, she got angry and began cussing them out.

When I found her, the woman was eating her meal. I began our conversation by telling her who I was and affirming that her desire to be clean was a good and honorable one, and I apologized for not having adequate facilities to provide that for her.

“When?” she asked me, not looking up from her plate of food.

“Today,” I replied.

“Where?” she asked.

“In the bathroom,” I said, and I repeated that she was right to want to be clean, but our facilities were inadequate for that. I promised that I would work to find out where she could shower and let her know.

“Why?” she asked, still not looking up from her food.

“Because I care about you,” I said, “and we want to help you.”

“Why?” she asked – this time looking up at me.

“Because you matter,” I said.

It’s possible this woman is suffering from some kind of mental illness. It’s possible she’s feigning mental illness because it gets her a little compassion.

I don’t know and I don’t care.

I observed, however, that she has learned to have power in an otherwise powerless existence by threatening people, cussing them out and being belligerent. It works. She has an impact.

When I asked the woman her name, she said, “Homeless.” ‘That’s what you are” I responded, “but not who you are. What’s your name?”

“Homeless” she repeated.

“OK, Homeless,” I said. “It will take me a few hours to find out what’s available for you. Since I won’t be able to reach you, please come back and see me.”

“I might” she said.

She didn’t – but I ran into her a couple of days later at the Dollar General store. I noticed her sitting in front of the abandoned storefront next door. I went over to her and said, “Hi Homeless. Do you remember who I am?”

“I remember,” she said.

“I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been looking for what you need.” I said. “You’ve made a lot of people upset around here and they don’t want to help you.”

“I know,” she said.

“I’m still looking for a place where you can clean up” I said. “Do you remember why?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good,” I said. “Everyone should know that they matter.”

I asked her if I could get her something to eat or drink, but she said she had just eaten and pointed to the food trash her backpack. I asked if there was anything else I could get her while I was out running errands and she said no, she was fine.

I told her I hoped she come again Wednesday and eat with us, that I hoped to have a resource for her by then. She said she’d see me there. I hope she will.

The fact is, most of us haven’t experienced the indignity of being shunned because we’re unclean. Most of us haven’t known the kind of powerless Homeless experiences every day.

Is it any surprise that she’s mean?

Homeless may be suffering from some mental illness, but she is certainly carrying a load of bad experiences along with her rolling suitcase and backpack. And it’s very likely that she has been treated with indignity by people whom she had to ask for help.

Homeless is exactly the kind of person Jesus calls us to walk toward, not away from as the world does.

We can enter the darkness of her world because we bring our own light with us – the light of Christ. We can be patient with Homeless as she learns how to see in the light, just as Jesus was patient with the disciples, and just as he is patient with us now.

People will say bad things about us and judge us as stupid or naïve, but that’s OK. It isn’t their approval or blessing we seek. You see, our church isn’t here to win praise for ourselves or to build a great local reputation.

We’re here to carry the gospel to people like Homeless. We’re here to bring the light of Christ into her darkness.

We may not be able to change the world, but we can set some ripples going in the waters of life. We can bring God, who is gracious and compassionate, to those who are entangled in the grip of the grave, even when their call sounds - at first - like a threat.

We can, and we must, reach into the world as it is, and do our part to make it as it should be.

I close with a Celtic prayer I love:

Lord, touch our lives with your glory that we may reach out to others.
Fill our hearts with your love that all may see the love of Christ.
Inspire us to dare new things for you that we may encourage those without hope,
Open our lives to your Spirit that we may reflect your praise.
(Source)

Amen.

Pentecost 15B, 2012: Be opened

Proper 18 Lectionary: Isaiah 35:4-7a; Psalm 146; James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17; Mark 7:24-37



En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

Last week we heard Jesus arguing with the Pharisees about ritual cleanness, about what defiles and what doesn’t. Jesus insisted that what is unclean comes from within, not from without.

Calling the Pharisees hypocrites for holding to human tradition rather than embracing the heart of God, Jesus turns to the people and explains that it is an unclean heart, a rigid, small, unloving heart that defiles. Then he demonstrates this teaching by heading immediately to an unclean region - the Gentile region of Tyre and Sidon - the place where Jezebel was from.

There he encounters a woman (strikes one and two – she’s a Gentile and a woman) who comes to him (strike three – she broke the rule that prohibits women from speaking to men) seeking healing for her daughter (a Gentile girl? See strikes one and two) who has an unclean spirit.

Jesus’ response to this woman startles a bit each time we read it. He said, “Let the children (the people of Israel) be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (a name often used to refer to Gentiles). Why would Jesus exclude this woman and deny her request?
 
Perhaps he was demonstrating what he had just finished teaching. Or perhaps it was because he had not yet completed his mission to the Jews, which had to come first, as it was prophesied in Isaiah. Maybe it was so that when we read this 2,000+ years later, we are left unable to deny that Jesus was moved by the faith of an alien, someone who was not supposed to be able to eat the food of life.

The current discussions we’re having in the church and in society on immigration and open communion come to mind.

Undeterred, the woman reminds Jesus that even the dogs eat the children’s crumbs. What a powerful and faithful response! Her faithfulness so moves Jesus that he changes his mind, drops the religious and societal barrier that separates them, and heals the woman’s daughter.

In response to the trust this woman has demonstrated, Jesus doesn’t even need to meet or touch the child in order to heal her. He simply speaks it, and she is healed.

This isn’t the first time God’s mind is changed following an argument with a human. In Genesis, Abraham argued with God about not destroying Sodom if only ten righteous people could be found. And Moses asked God to relent from destroying the people of Israel for their spiritual adultery during their exodus. Now this woman argues with God to obtain wholeness for her child, claiming, at the same time, both her identity as a member of the household of God and her right to partake of the spiritual food of life given to the children of God.

Isn’t it amazing how Jesus encounters someone with a pure heart right after arguing with the Pharisees about this? And just so we’re clear – she was a rule-breaking alien, woman. Three strikes against her and she still gets the home run.

That’s because this Syrophoenician woman trusted in three important ways. 1) She trusted that in Jesus she would find the food of life, which for her, was the healing she desired for her child. 2) She trusted in the mercy of God who cares for the stranger (Ps 146:8). She may not have been a Jew, but she was in the household all the same, and everyone in the household deserves to be fed. 3) She trusted in the abundance of God’s love knowing that there would be enough for the children of Israel and for her.

Our Scripture tells us that after this encounter Jesus continued on through the Gentile country and headed back toward Galilee where people brought a deaf man to him to be healed. Like many who are born deaf, this man spoke with an impediment.

Jesus didn’t hesitate. He took the man away from the crowd and did a healing ritual with him. There was no magic in putting his fingers in the man’s ear or his spittle on the man’s tongue. It was ritual.

Jesus could have healed this man in the same way he had healed the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter, with a word, but he chose instead to do a healing ritual. Ritually touching the man’s ears and tongue, then raising his eyes and his prayer to heaven, Jesus sighed - a signal of release - and called upon the man to do the same.

“Be opened,” Jesus said. It’s a simple command, but it’s so powerful and transforming that we ought not to run by it too quickly.

“Be opened.” Jesus wasn’t talking to the ears, but to the man. It was a command with a sense of urgency and it required the man to come into the presence of God and let go, to be still and let God do the work.

Be … just be… just wait in the presence… release, let go all thoughts, all desires, all expectations… let go all doubts, all fears, all concerns about worthiness or unworthiness, cleanness or uncleanness… let go and let God open you. “Be opened.”

And immediately, our Scripture tells us, he was opened. We know his ears were opened and his tongue released because Mark tells us that he spoke plainly. It seems clear, however, that the man himself was also opened, along with the people to whom he returned.

Mark tells us that no matter how much Jesus cautioned them not to talk about it, their excitement could not be contained, “astounded” as they were “beyond measure.” They had witnessed the fulfillment of the prophesy that when the Messiah came he would make “the deaf to hear and the mute to speak” and they couldn’t help but proclaim what they had just seen Jesus do.

The healing ritual with the deaf man was done for the benefit of the man, the people in his community, those to whom they told the story, and for us who read about it today. It demonstrates an important part of our relationship with God, who waits faithfully for us to come near and be made whole.

It also reminds us how important it is for us to do what we do on Sundays and Holy Days: ritually praying and eating together while giving thanks to God – the source of the food of life that makes us whole. When we come to church we make an offering of ourselves to God knowing – trusting – that in Jesus we have the food of life, that God’s mercy and love are abundant and available to any who ask.

As Episcopalians, we’re familiar with ritual, and the symbolic language and actions involved. We may not think about it much, but we are affected by it when we are open to it.

So like that deaf man, Jesus is calling us - right now - to be opened… to come into the presence of God… to release, to let go all thoughts, desires, and expectations… to let go all doubts, fears, and concerns of worthiness… to let go and let God in.

“Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts…” Amen.