I don’t have much time to watch TV, but in the evening I do sit down and watch some. I think we can learn a lot about ourselves by the commercials. If I were one to believe anything I see and hear on television, these are the things that I think are important to Americans, in no particular order: I have to take some sort of drugs to sleep better, to feel better, or to have better sex; I have to have a sexy car; I have to have financial security; I have to drink but do so responsibly; I have to wear the right clothes; I have to buy the right toys, etc. etc. etc. On some level, consumerism has become the dominant world faith, and we freely hand ourselves over to it. And, when we believe in the religion of consumerism, it is quite easy to believe that you, or me, or any one of us is the most important person in our particular universe, and fulfilling our needs is the most important endeavor we can be about.
So how is it we find ourselves in this place today? Why is it that you get up on Sunday morning and come to church? Why is it that yesterday some of you were here at church all day cleaning, and many of you spent your whole Saturday at the civic center giving away the clothes we had purchased for kids to begin school? Here we are, honoring the Sabbath; here we are, worshipping God. Here we are, listening to stories of faith in Jesus, we are not at home, watching TV drinking our coffee. Here we are, consuming the bread and the wine, being made into the body of Christ, why do we do it? Why do we come here?
I think it is because we are the same as the woman in our gospel today. This woman whom Jesus set free. This woman who was bound us, enslaved, for all of her adult life. This woman who Jesus released. This good news we hear today is true. You and I know it is true because it describes our lives, each one of us is set free, each one of us is released from the bonds that hold us at a distance from each other, we are released from the bonds that keep us believing that ultimately our needs, real or perceived, are the most important needs in the world.
We find ourselves here today not because we have to be here, or we are obligated to be here, but because we are free. We are free from the bonds of selfishness, from the bonds of self-absorption, and egotism. We are free from the religion of our culture that preaches you must buy, you must have, you must consume because it helps the economy and it is the patriotic thing to do. The religion of our culture that preaches you can rest when you’re dead, where people work more and more and wonder why they are so exhausted and why they feel more behind.
Keeping Sabbath is important, your being here is important, because you are free to be healed, and in your healing and reconciliation, you are freed to show compassion. And in reaching out, showing compassion, you participate in God’s bringing healing, freedom, joy and peace to those in need, and that is a rejuvenating path to experiencing those things more fully in our own lives. You are free to be transformed into the person you are created to be. What’s really important here? Healing and reconciliation are God’s purpose in the world. Keeping the Sabbath is about keeping God’s purpose the main thing. It is about the nearness of the kingdom.
The woman in our story today was released from the bondage of her ailment. We too are released from bondage, but you and I both know that we tend to choose to stay in bondage. We tend to believe the religion of our culture that says to us either “you are God” and deserve to have anything and anyone you want, or “you are worthless” and deserve only what happens to you, both of which are lies.
The truth is so very different from any of that. The truth is that we are God’s beloved creation, and that God loves us whether or not we love God, that is our choice, and that God came to be part of creation, to live, love, suffer and die, so that we may be reconciled, or joined together with God, and with one another so that we may be free. The truth is that the story is not about any one of us, but the story is about God’s relationship with us, and our relationship with God and our neighbor.
That’s the main thing, and what flows from that main thing, what flows from God’s amazing and abundant love for us is the freedom to love others, regardless of approval or disapproval, regardless of whether or not they deserve our love, regardless of whether or not they brought life’s circumstances upon themselves or if they are a victim of circumstances. What flows from God’s amazing and abundant love for us is mercy and compassion.
Mercy and compassion cause us to look at length and with open hearts into the eye of those who are ignored, those who are very old, those who have no one to care for them, those who cannot speak for themselves, those who cannot move on their own, those who are homeless or ill or in pain, those who are lonely, angry, grieving. Mercy and compassion cause us to care about people even when their vulnerability reminds us of our own.
Watching TV shows us not only the values of our American cultural religion, it also lets us into the living room, and the back yards of people all over our world. And we have seen floods and fires, earthquakes and hurricanes. Sometimes we suffer from “compassion fatigue,” we can no longer feel because it seems overwhelming, and we know how close we are. Sometimes we hear ourselves say, “that could have been me,” and we can no longer listen or watch, we can no longer be compassionate. We will not feel at peace or be at rest when we are frantically running away from something.
So this week as we reflect on the gospel, it might do us some good to linger where Jesus lingers, to begin in a moment of Sabbath, to start from a quiet place within, and remember the main thing. The main thing, that it isn’t about me today, it isn’t about any one of us, it is about meeting others with God’s compassion, God’s mercy, and reminding ourselves of the dignity, the freedom, the blessing that is God’s desire for each of us as God’s child.
Today we celebrate a life well lived, Bernice Holland Jones. Bernice shows us what mercy and compassion look like, she shows us what dignity and freedom look like, she shows us what servant ministry looks like, for almost 100 years. Bernice would tell you that she surely did not expect to be walking this earth at 100, and yet she is.
Today, that is a celebration.
The kingdom of God is near.
Thanks be to God. Amen. Alleluia.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
12 Pentecost Yr C
Fire is one of the most powerful forces of nature. Fire threatens people and property. Fire threatens forest and hillside. Fires are destructive, fire burns, fire kills. Fire is energy and force that consumes until it burns itself out. And yet fire is necessary for a forest to be reborn.
The fire that Jesus came to bring to the earth is a fire of transformation. It is a fire that does not destroy but that refines, renews and purifies. We know that not only does fire destroy, at the same time fire is the very thing that provides the energy for seed pods to open to create new life. You can see that so clearly in a place like Yellowstone. The new growth that has resulted from fire is amazing. Wildflowers, trees, that would never have grown if it weren’t for fire. This is like the refining and purifying fire that Jesus brings. This is the fire that has the strength to create something new out of something old, something alive out of what seems dead. This is the fire that molds liquid into solid, and solid into liquid. This is the fire that transforms a lump of clay into a beautiful pot.
In JRR Tolkein’s story, The Lord of the Rings, the premise is that a ring that was forged from the fires of the earth holds unbearable power for the ringbearer. The bearer of the ring is always corruptible, and will, eventually, succumb to the power of the ring. The only way for the ring to give up its power is to be thrown back into the fire. The journey of the ring bearer and the fellowship is a journey of transformation and refinement. It is a journey away from individualism and concern only for oneself, toward unity of purpose and shedding of selfishness. On the way, the dwarfs, men, hobbits, and elves, are faced with their own mortality, their own limitations, and realize the journey is about much more than each of them individually, and is much more about who they are together. They were challenged to use their gifts in ways they never thought possible. When the mission was accomplished, something new had been created, out of the fire that refined, molded, melted, reshaped.
Fire transforms, fire refines, fire purifies. Fire is powerful. Jesus came to bring fire to the earth. Jesus came to transform and refine us. Nothing is the same after the fire. Nothing looks the same, nothing smells the same, everything is different. What was old has been reshaped, reformed. Jesus came so that nothing is the same as it was.
One of those things that is transformed is relationships. Remember that the gospel writer Luke claims that part of Jesus’ mission was and is to redefine kinship. Nothing is the same with Jesus and after Jesus, especially kin relationships. Nothing is the same, including the assumptions that have always been made about the natural order of family relationships. What I think Jesus is saying here, and it is probably one of the most difficult passages in the gospel to hear, is that kinship is not the most important relationship, but our relationship to God is our most important relationship, our primary relationship. This is not different from the message of Luke that we’ve been hearing for some weeks. Our relationship with God is our primary relationship. But this transformation of relationship causes division. When all the members of a family are not in relationship with God, family relationships are stressed, families can become divided.
In order to form a relationship, we must spend time in that relationship and pay attention to the other in the relationship. When we are in relationship with God, we must spend time with God in prayer, we must learn about God through reading scripture, and we Christians understand God who is one of us, Jesus Christ. We are an incarnational people. God is made known to us in the flesh, Jesus Christ. We say we know Jesus Christ through others, we say we know Jesus Christ through the breaking of the bread. So one way we are in relationship with God is to be in community, we participate in the body of Christ, we are made into the body of Christ.
Each one of us must be in relationship with God through prayer and study, and all of us together as church must be in relationship with God through prayer and study. That is part of what makes us a Christian community; and what results from prayer and study in Christian community is that we may end up in different places, we may disagree. God created us all different, unique; we all have different lenses through which to see.
In a little book by the Rt. Rev. Neil Alexander, the bishop of the diocese of Atlanta, called This Far by Grace, Bishop Alexander makes an observation, he says,
“In the Anglican tradition, we got over the need to agree with one another centuries ago. One of the glories of our way of being faithful is to hold together, in creative tension, a cacophony of diverse voices, a rich continuum of temperaments, and almost as many ways of knowing as there are things to be known. It’s often tense, but never boring.”
I think this is the kind of fire of creativity that Jesus calls us to in this gospel passage. The fire that creates in each of us something new, something different, something that was only a seed pod before, but now can grow and flourish and be who and what it was meant to be. We are not created new to be the same; we are created new to be who we are called to be.
The fires of transformation and refinement are not about making us all the same. The fires of transformation and refinement are about making us unique and beautiful; the fires of transformation and refinement are about making us in God’s image. And in that uniqueness and in that beauty, all of us together come closer to being who God creates us to be. We are transformed into the people, not individual people, but a people, not just fathers and sons, not just mothers and daughters, but a people, from different tribes and different nations, which belong to God. We are transformed into a people who show forth their gifts. A people who love one another as we have first been loved. A people who offer dignity and respect to all. A people who together are better than they are apart. A people who are fed, who feed one another, and who go forth into the world giving thanks and praise to our God.
Amen, Alleluia!
The fire that Jesus came to bring to the earth is a fire of transformation. It is a fire that does not destroy but that refines, renews and purifies. We know that not only does fire destroy, at the same time fire is the very thing that provides the energy for seed pods to open to create new life. You can see that so clearly in a place like Yellowstone. The new growth that has resulted from fire is amazing. Wildflowers, trees, that would never have grown if it weren’t for fire. This is like the refining and purifying fire that Jesus brings. This is the fire that has the strength to create something new out of something old, something alive out of what seems dead. This is the fire that molds liquid into solid, and solid into liquid. This is the fire that transforms a lump of clay into a beautiful pot.
In JRR Tolkein’s story, The Lord of the Rings, the premise is that a ring that was forged from the fires of the earth holds unbearable power for the ringbearer. The bearer of the ring is always corruptible, and will, eventually, succumb to the power of the ring. The only way for the ring to give up its power is to be thrown back into the fire. The journey of the ring bearer and the fellowship is a journey of transformation and refinement. It is a journey away from individualism and concern only for oneself, toward unity of purpose and shedding of selfishness. On the way, the dwarfs, men, hobbits, and elves, are faced with their own mortality, their own limitations, and realize the journey is about much more than each of them individually, and is much more about who they are together. They were challenged to use their gifts in ways they never thought possible. When the mission was accomplished, something new had been created, out of the fire that refined, molded, melted, reshaped.
Fire transforms, fire refines, fire purifies. Fire is powerful. Jesus came to bring fire to the earth. Jesus came to transform and refine us. Nothing is the same after the fire. Nothing looks the same, nothing smells the same, everything is different. What was old has been reshaped, reformed. Jesus came so that nothing is the same as it was.
One of those things that is transformed is relationships. Remember that the gospel writer Luke claims that part of Jesus’ mission was and is to redefine kinship. Nothing is the same with Jesus and after Jesus, especially kin relationships. Nothing is the same, including the assumptions that have always been made about the natural order of family relationships. What I think Jesus is saying here, and it is probably one of the most difficult passages in the gospel to hear, is that kinship is not the most important relationship, but our relationship to God is our most important relationship, our primary relationship. This is not different from the message of Luke that we’ve been hearing for some weeks. Our relationship with God is our primary relationship. But this transformation of relationship causes division. When all the members of a family are not in relationship with God, family relationships are stressed, families can become divided.
In order to form a relationship, we must spend time in that relationship and pay attention to the other in the relationship. When we are in relationship with God, we must spend time with God in prayer, we must learn about God through reading scripture, and we Christians understand God who is one of us, Jesus Christ. We are an incarnational people. God is made known to us in the flesh, Jesus Christ. We say we know Jesus Christ through others, we say we know Jesus Christ through the breaking of the bread. So one way we are in relationship with God is to be in community, we participate in the body of Christ, we are made into the body of Christ.
Each one of us must be in relationship with God through prayer and study, and all of us together as church must be in relationship with God through prayer and study. That is part of what makes us a Christian community; and what results from prayer and study in Christian community is that we may end up in different places, we may disagree. God created us all different, unique; we all have different lenses through which to see.
In a little book by the Rt. Rev. Neil Alexander, the bishop of the diocese of Atlanta, called This Far by Grace, Bishop Alexander makes an observation, he says,
“In the Anglican tradition, we got over the need to agree with one another centuries ago. One of the glories of our way of being faithful is to hold together, in creative tension, a cacophony of diverse voices, a rich continuum of temperaments, and almost as many ways of knowing as there are things to be known. It’s often tense, but never boring.”
I think this is the kind of fire of creativity that Jesus calls us to in this gospel passage. The fire that creates in each of us something new, something different, something that was only a seed pod before, but now can grow and flourish and be who and what it was meant to be. We are not created new to be the same; we are created new to be who we are called to be.
The fires of transformation and refinement are not about making us all the same. The fires of transformation and refinement are about making us unique and beautiful; the fires of transformation and refinement are about making us in God’s image. And in that uniqueness and in that beauty, all of us together come closer to being who God creates us to be. We are transformed into the people, not individual people, but a people, not just fathers and sons, not just mothers and daughters, but a people, from different tribes and different nations, which belong to God. We are transformed into a people who show forth their gifts. A people who love one another as we have first been loved. A people who offer dignity and respect to all. A people who together are better than they are apart. A people who are fed, who feed one another, and who go forth into the world giving thanks and praise to our God.
Amen, Alleluia!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
11 Pentecost Yr C
Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid God assured Abram, the angel assured Mary, do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Do not be afraid we must be assured as well, do not be afraid.
Fear is a powerful motivator, for good or for ill. It seems that the world in which our sacred stories originated, and the world in which you and I live are not so different. Our ancestors were afraid of the same things we are afraid of, not having enough, not having enough food, water, clothing, housing. They were afraid of persecution, afraid of being teased and bullied for being different. They were afraid of death, afraid of the unknown, afraid of the dark, afraid of mortality and absence, afraid of natural disaster and human made disaster. They were afraid of those who seemed a threat, those whose ways are so different from our ways, those who believed in a God who seemed so foreign.
Today we live in a culture of fear. We are afraid of not having enough, and we are afraid of those we think may take away what we do have. We are afraid of reading the newspaper because we don’t want to read that our stocks are doing poorly and our retirement is gone, or we don’t want to read of the sadness, violence, and tragedy around us. We are afraid of getting sick because we don’t have enough health insurance to cover the hospitalization. We are afraid of getting old because we are unsure of what our bodies will become and what they will do, and the value of our lives until we die. We are afraid of people who think and do and believe differently from ourselves. We are afraid of dying because we wish to be immortal.
We are afraid of losing, losing our money, losing our lives, losing our house, we are so afraid of losing we hold on tight, we become greedy, we worship idols. We heard all about greed and idols in the parable we heard last week of the Rich Fool. Fear leaves us insecure and paranoid. Fear breeds intolerance and suspicion. Fear causes our relationships to be conditional and abusive.
No fear. Be not afraid. These are words of comfort, and they are words of action. How do we follow Jesus in a culture of fear? What is the fitting response, the ethical response to fear? Now, fearlessness is not a good thing. But that is why God chooses to be known to us, so that we may stop being afraid of the wrong things. Putting fear in its place is being freed from fear to being empowered to love. The quieting of fear is required in order to hear and do what God asks of us, and yet in our culture, fear seems to have the loudest voice.
Quieting our fear is not easy, but these overwhelming fears need to be overwhelmed by bigger and better things, by a sense of adventure and fullness of life that comes from locating our fears and vulnerabilities within the larger story that is ultimately hopeful and not tragic. The story of God’s abundant and amazing love that resides with us in the life and love, the pain and suffering, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And only by facing death, our most primal fear, can we move ahead to embrace life with the great nevertheless that is God’s gracious word to a broken world.
At our baptism, we were united with Christ and marked as Christ’s own forever. Through baptism we have already faced death, and seen it overcome. Every time we gather together here to celebrate Christ with us we acknowledge the work that God does in Jesus on the cross.
Following Jesus in this culture of fear is to offer hospitality, and then we are no longer strangers. Following Jesus in this culture of fear is to be compassionate instead of safe. Following Jesus is to transform this culture of fear into a culture of hope.
And this is the work of discipleship, it is our work as baptized people. Bringing the kingdom near, for the gospel writer Luke, is all about the amazing grace of God. We are disciples who express openhanded mercy to others, especially those in need. Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, extend hospitality to those who cannot reciprocate, give without expectation of return. Such practices are possible only for those whose dispositions and convictions and commitments have been reshaped by the transformative encounter with God’s amazing grace.
Be not afraid, because the chief competitor for God’s focus stems from the rule of money, in forms of life designed to keep those with power and privilege segregated from those of low status, the least, the lost, and the left out.
And we continue to hear, Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. How do we live as kingdom people and live without fear? Sell your possessions, and give alms. In other words, be generous, give to the poor. The call of discipleship is to live as if we mean it, not as if we are afraid of it. The call is to live as if God is our priority. Eugene Peterson’s translation in The Message is, Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don’t be afraid of missing out.
The call is to live our transformed lives in the world, and when we do that, we can change our world, we can transform our world, and the kingdom will be near. The call of discipleship is to no longer be afraid to be yourselves, to be the person God created you to be, to live your life as the beloved of God. When God is the priority, when God is our treasure, there our hearts will be also, and there will be no fear. There will be courage, we will be dressed for action and have our lamps lit. There is nothing we miss out on, instead, we are emboldened and encouraged to live our lives as agents for change, we are participants in bringing the kingdom near.
I’m remembering a fairly recent movie, Evan Almighty, which if you haven’t seen yet you may want to netflex. Evan, who has just been elected to congress, prays for his family and his relationships. As a result, God tells Evan to build an ark. Near the end of the movie Evan figures out that God doesn’t necessarily give what it is we ask for, but gives us opportunities to engage in what we need. So when Evan prayed for better family relationships, God gave Evan an opportunity to engage in relationships, by building the ark together.
God gives us opportunities for discipleship, God gives us opportunities to minister with the least, the lost and the left out. God gives us opportunities to live boldly and courageously. God gives us opportunities to live as if we mean it, to live with no fear, and to witness to the nearness of God’s kingdom.
Be not afraid.
Fear is a powerful motivator, for good or for ill. It seems that the world in which our sacred stories originated, and the world in which you and I live are not so different. Our ancestors were afraid of the same things we are afraid of, not having enough, not having enough food, water, clothing, housing. They were afraid of persecution, afraid of being teased and bullied for being different. They were afraid of death, afraid of the unknown, afraid of the dark, afraid of mortality and absence, afraid of natural disaster and human made disaster. They were afraid of those who seemed a threat, those whose ways are so different from our ways, those who believed in a God who seemed so foreign.
Today we live in a culture of fear. We are afraid of not having enough, and we are afraid of those we think may take away what we do have. We are afraid of reading the newspaper because we don’t want to read that our stocks are doing poorly and our retirement is gone, or we don’t want to read of the sadness, violence, and tragedy around us. We are afraid of getting sick because we don’t have enough health insurance to cover the hospitalization. We are afraid of getting old because we are unsure of what our bodies will become and what they will do, and the value of our lives until we die. We are afraid of people who think and do and believe differently from ourselves. We are afraid of dying because we wish to be immortal.
We are afraid of losing, losing our money, losing our lives, losing our house, we are so afraid of losing we hold on tight, we become greedy, we worship idols. We heard all about greed and idols in the parable we heard last week of the Rich Fool. Fear leaves us insecure and paranoid. Fear breeds intolerance and suspicion. Fear causes our relationships to be conditional and abusive.
No fear. Be not afraid. These are words of comfort, and they are words of action. How do we follow Jesus in a culture of fear? What is the fitting response, the ethical response to fear? Now, fearlessness is not a good thing. But that is why God chooses to be known to us, so that we may stop being afraid of the wrong things. Putting fear in its place is being freed from fear to being empowered to love. The quieting of fear is required in order to hear and do what God asks of us, and yet in our culture, fear seems to have the loudest voice.
Quieting our fear is not easy, but these overwhelming fears need to be overwhelmed by bigger and better things, by a sense of adventure and fullness of life that comes from locating our fears and vulnerabilities within the larger story that is ultimately hopeful and not tragic. The story of God’s abundant and amazing love that resides with us in the life and love, the pain and suffering, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And only by facing death, our most primal fear, can we move ahead to embrace life with the great nevertheless that is God’s gracious word to a broken world.
At our baptism, we were united with Christ and marked as Christ’s own forever. Through baptism we have already faced death, and seen it overcome. Every time we gather together here to celebrate Christ with us we acknowledge the work that God does in Jesus on the cross.
Following Jesus in this culture of fear is to offer hospitality, and then we are no longer strangers. Following Jesus in this culture of fear is to be compassionate instead of safe. Following Jesus is to transform this culture of fear into a culture of hope.
And this is the work of discipleship, it is our work as baptized people. Bringing the kingdom near, for the gospel writer Luke, is all about the amazing grace of God. We are disciples who express openhanded mercy to others, especially those in need. Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, extend hospitality to those who cannot reciprocate, give without expectation of return. Such practices are possible only for those whose dispositions and convictions and commitments have been reshaped by the transformative encounter with God’s amazing grace.
Be not afraid, because the chief competitor for God’s focus stems from the rule of money, in forms of life designed to keep those with power and privilege segregated from those of low status, the least, the lost, and the left out.
And we continue to hear, Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. How do we live as kingdom people and live without fear? Sell your possessions, and give alms. In other words, be generous, give to the poor. The call of discipleship is to live as if we mean it, not as if we are afraid of it. The call is to live as if God is our priority. Eugene Peterson’s translation in The Message is, Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don’t be afraid of missing out.
The call is to live our transformed lives in the world, and when we do that, we can change our world, we can transform our world, and the kingdom will be near. The call of discipleship is to no longer be afraid to be yourselves, to be the person God created you to be, to live your life as the beloved of God. When God is the priority, when God is our treasure, there our hearts will be also, and there will be no fear. There will be courage, we will be dressed for action and have our lamps lit. There is nothing we miss out on, instead, we are emboldened and encouraged to live our lives as agents for change, we are participants in bringing the kingdom near.
I’m remembering a fairly recent movie, Evan Almighty, which if you haven’t seen yet you may want to netflex. Evan, who has just been elected to congress, prays for his family and his relationships. As a result, God tells Evan to build an ark. Near the end of the movie Evan figures out that God doesn’t necessarily give what it is we ask for, but gives us opportunities to engage in what we need. So when Evan prayed for better family relationships, God gave Evan an opportunity to engage in relationships, by building the ark together.
God gives us opportunities for discipleship, God gives us opportunities to minister with the least, the lost and the left out. God gives us opportunities to live boldly and courageously. God gives us opportunities to live as if we mean it, to live with no fear, and to witness to the nearness of God’s kingdom.
Be not afraid.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
10 Pentecost Yr C
Our churches give considerable attention these days to who’s in and who’s out. Fact of the matter is that Jesus spends much more time and energy in the gospels talking about money and possessions than he does about sex. In front of us today are two passages that teach us about the proper place of money and possessions, and where our priorities are.
Look at what we have here in Luke. It was a bumper crop, a good year. What does a farmer do with a bumper crop; he puts it in the barn. That done, he relaxes. He can afford to. He has earned his contentment. He is happy and then he dies. Isn’t that the way it is supposed to be? Isn’t this good news? And yet, this farmer is called a fool, what is so foolish about what he has done?
This is a story about the perennial seduction of greed; it is about the perennial seduction of idolatry. Today we may call it conspicuous consumption and it has many faces and facets. This teaching is as urgent in our time as it must have been in the 1st century.
There’s a story about a man, Ed. Ed is over eighty years old, and has worked very hard all of his life. Because he saved his money very carefully, Ed is probably very wealthy. He has never married and has no family, except for his sister, who lives with him. Ed's home is a very modest one, and he scrupulously watches every penny that he spends. But he also has his treasure, and it sits in his garage, covered by a thick canvas cloth. It is a restored car, worth more than many people's homes, and Ed loves that car. He spends most of his waking hours sitting in an old chair in front of the open garage door, guarding his treasure. If anyone happens to walk by – the mail carrier, a visitor to a neighbor's home, a repair person, Ed is quick to call that person back to his garage to show him the car, barely lifting up the cover and letting them have just a peek at a corner of his prized automobile. Whenever he talks about the car, Ed gets a gleam in his eye as if he is talking about the most wonderful thing in the world. But if the subject is just about anything else, Ed grows angry and cynical. The world is a corrupt and terrible place, he says, and everyone is a crook. He often talks about how to protect himself and his property, even if he has to use his gun to do so. In the two years since Ed bought this car, it has never been out of that garage. It has never been taken out from under that thick canvas covering. Ed has never taken it for a ride, never shared the thrill of driving down some beautiful, winding, wooded road with his sister or a friend at his side.
I’m not sure that Ed is wrong, or his love for his car is wrong, it isn’t about being right or wrong. It is about priority though, and that’s why greed is so foolish and so seductive. It’s not the purchase of the vehicle, or the latest gadget, or the big house, or the shares of stock, that is problematic. It’s the misplaced priority about that. It’s turning the object into the idol, it’s turning ones attention into oneself and away from others, away from the common good, away from the Creator.
The Colossians passage demands that our attention be turned away from greed and toward Christ, who is all and in all. Greed is a way of worshipping wrong gods. In fact, the Colossians passage shows us that we must die to that which is killing us. That’s what greed does; it kills us, that’s what was happening to our man Ed. The by-product of greed and idol worship is the bitterness that builds up in our hearts and our souls, little by little, bit by bit. Greed is self-destructive. Colossians commends a new-self, the one baptized into Christ, who centers life not on self, but on mercy, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, and forgiveness. There is a genuine alternative to the seduction of greed and idols. We need to know where we stand and to whom we belong.
There are many preachers, who seem to get all the TV airtime and the press, that preach a gospel of prosperity. It’s the message that if you do the right things, pray the right way, even believe the right words, you will be rewarded with riches. Reading the Gospel of Luke and Colossians, I don’t know how that message can be found. It is so clear that the life of discipleship is not about getting more and getting ahead. The life of discipleship is about dying to that which is killing you, to be raised to new life clothed in Christ. It is to be free to be merciful and compassionate, nonjudgmental and inclusive.
What is killing you? What do you worship? What is your idol? What foolish treasures do you store up? These questions also need to be addressed to us as a church, and us as society. What is it that holds us hostage, that keeps us in bondage, that we need to die to, so that we may be free to be a merciful and compassionate society, a society of neighbors, like the compassionate Samaritan, rather than a society of mean-spirited people. What is it that we must die to so that we may be in relationship with one another and with God? What are our idols? How do we choose against the foolishness of storing up treasures? I don’t have the solution for you or for us, just some suggestions for adjusting our attitude toward wealth. First, we may need to realize that wealth is not happiness, that money and possessions do not bring peace of mind. Second, we may need to decide to share rather than hoard. Sharing is a biblical imperative, even if some call it by another name. Third, we may need to make a commitment to serve God instead of money. While it is important to be responsible about money, to plan for our retirement and our needs, we should also plan for what someone has called our "expirement" – for the death that came unexpectedly to the rich fool in this parable told by Jesus. We need to ask if our lives, in all their multi-faceted and multi-tasking glory, reflect the priorities God would like us to have.
Whenever we worship the created rather than the Creator, we have lowered our sights and limited our vision – we have "missed the mark," which is the definition of sin. It doesn't mean that material things are evil in themselves. Not at all. God's creation is good. It is the "Who" that's at the center of our lives that matters. And it is how we regard the things that we have that is central to our well-being in God's eyes. And it is well-being in God's eyes that constitutes the good life.
Everything we have is a gift from God. We may work hard, but what we have is a gift, not a reward. Wealth is a means, not an end, and most of us need an attitude adjustment about it. We have seen in our own lifetimes incredible bouts of greed – in the 80's, and the 90's, and the terrible price we are now paying for the greed of recent years – no wonder that we have given way to disillusionment and hunger for what truly satisfies.
God’s amazing and abundant love and grace truly satisfies. Taste and see the goodness of the lord.
Look at what we have here in Luke. It was a bumper crop, a good year. What does a farmer do with a bumper crop; he puts it in the barn. That done, he relaxes. He can afford to. He has earned his contentment. He is happy and then he dies. Isn’t that the way it is supposed to be? Isn’t this good news? And yet, this farmer is called a fool, what is so foolish about what he has done?
This is a story about the perennial seduction of greed; it is about the perennial seduction of idolatry. Today we may call it conspicuous consumption and it has many faces and facets. This teaching is as urgent in our time as it must have been in the 1st century.
There’s a story about a man, Ed. Ed is over eighty years old, and has worked very hard all of his life. Because he saved his money very carefully, Ed is probably very wealthy. He has never married and has no family, except for his sister, who lives with him. Ed's home is a very modest one, and he scrupulously watches every penny that he spends. But he also has his treasure, and it sits in his garage, covered by a thick canvas cloth. It is a restored car, worth more than many people's homes, and Ed loves that car. He spends most of his waking hours sitting in an old chair in front of the open garage door, guarding his treasure. If anyone happens to walk by – the mail carrier, a visitor to a neighbor's home, a repair person, Ed is quick to call that person back to his garage to show him the car, barely lifting up the cover and letting them have just a peek at a corner of his prized automobile. Whenever he talks about the car, Ed gets a gleam in his eye as if he is talking about the most wonderful thing in the world. But if the subject is just about anything else, Ed grows angry and cynical. The world is a corrupt and terrible place, he says, and everyone is a crook. He often talks about how to protect himself and his property, even if he has to use his gun to do so. In the two years since Ed bought this car, it has never been out of that garage. It has never been taken out from under that thick canvas covering. Ed has never taken it for a ride, never shared the thrill of driving down some beautiful, winding, wooded road with his sister or a friend at his side.
I’m not sure that Ed is wrong, or his love for his car is wrong, it isn’t about being right or wrong. It is about priority though, and that’s why greed is so foolish and so seductive. It’s not the purchase of the vehicle, or the latest gadget, or the big house, or the shares of stock, that is problematic. It’s the misplaced priority about that. It’s turning the object into the idol, it’s turning ones attention into oneself and away from others, away from the common good, away from the Creator.
The Colossians passage demands that our attention be turned away from greed and toward Christ, who is all and in all. Greed is a way of worshipping wrong gods. In fact, the Colossians passage shows us that we must die to that which is killing us. That’s what greed does; it kills us, that’s what was happening to our man Ed. The by-product of greed and idol worship is the bitterness that builds up in our hearts and our souls, little by little, bit by bit. Greed is self-destructive. Colossians commends a new-self, the one baptized into Christ, who centers life not on self, but on mercy, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, and forgiveness. There is a genuine alternative to the seduction of greed and idols. We need to know where we stand and to whom we belong.
There are many preachers, who seem to get all the TV airtime and the press, that preach a gospel of prosperity. It’s the message that if you do the right things, pray the right way, even believe the right words, you will be rewarded with riches. Reading the Gospel of Luke and Colossians, I don’t know how that message can be found. It is so clear that the life of discipleship is not about getting more and getting ahead. The life of discipleship is about dying to that which is killing you, to be raised to new life clothed in Christ. It is to be free to be merciful and compassionate, nonjudgmental and inclusive.
What is killing you? What do you worship? What is your idol? What foolish treasures do you store up? These questions also need to be addressed to us as a church, and us as society. What is it that holds us hostage, that keeps us in bondage, that we need to die to, so that we may be free to be a merciful and compassionate society, a society of neighbors, like the compassionate Samaritan, rather than a society of mean-spirited people. What is it that we must die to so that we may be in relationship with one another and with God? What are our idols? How do we choose against the foolishness of storing up treasures? I don’t have the solution for you or for us, just some suggestions for adjusting our attitude toward wealth. First, we may need to realize that wealth is not happiness, that money and possessions do not bring peace of mind. Second, we may need to decide to share rather than hoard. Sharing is a biblical imperative, even if some call it by another name. Third, we may need to make a commitment to serve God instead of money. While it is important to be responsible about money, to plan for our retirement and our needs, we should also plan for what someone has called our "expirement" – for the death that came unexpectedly to the rich fool in this parable told by Jesus. We need to ask if our lives, in all their multi-faceted and multi-tasking glory, reflect the priorities God would like us to have.
Whenever we worship the created rather than the Creator, we have lowered our sights and limited our vision – we have "missed the mark," which is the definition of sin. It doesn't mean that material things are evil in themselves. Not at all. God's creation is good. It is the "Who" that's at the center of our lives that matters. And it is how we regard the things that we have that is central to our well-being in God's eyes. And it is well-being in God's eyes that constitutes the good life.
Everything we have is a gift from God. We may work hard, but what we have is a gift, not a reward. Wealth is a means, not an end, and most of us need an attitude adjustment about it. We have seen in our own lifetimes incredible bouts of greed – in the 80's, and the 90's, and the terrible price we are now paying for the greed of recent years – no wonder that we have given way to disillusionment and hunger for what truly satisfies.
God’s amazing and abundant love and grace truly satisfies. Taste and see the goodness of the lord.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
9 Pentecost Yr C
Jesus was praying, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, Lord, teach us to pray. Jesus responded in three ways. First, Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with. Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial. Then, the gospel writer Luke has Jesus tell a story of a relationship. There is a person who needs some food for a visitor, even though the visitor arrives in the middle of the night. That person goes to the door of his friend, maybe his neighbor, and knocks on the door in the middle of the night and asks for some bread. The friend sounds mightily irritated to be awoken in the middle of the night, but the story suggests that he did in fact after a little convincing, give over the bread. And then what we hear from Luke this morning is about boldness. What we have before us is not just the so familiar words we pray as the Lord’s Prayer, but we have those words in the context of relationship and boldness. Ask, search, knock. Jesus' instruction invites trust and boldness, ask, search, knock, confident that you will receive what you ask. There is no one among us listening who would give a snake or a scorpion to a beseeching child, so how then, Jesus implies, can we not trust that God as divine parent will give us all that we need, including and especially the Holy Spirit?
Jesus seems most interested, at this point, in an invitation to a relationship than an explanation about the technique of prayer. Prayer is not a list, but a relationship. In this passage Jesus invites us into relationship with God through prayer, offering us the opportunity to approach the God whose name is too holy to speak and whose countenance too terrible to behold with the familiarity, boldness, and trust of a young child running to her parent for both provision and protection.
I do think that we tend to get caught up in all sorts of questions about prayer. How do we pray? What do we pray for? And the big ones, does God answer prayer and does prayer change God? Just as Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with, we Episcopalians have all sorts of beautiful prayers that have been handed to us through generations of the faithful, and we have wonderful new prayers that broaden our imaginations. However we are a little bit challenged by extemporaneous prayer. We tend to be formed as people of well thought out and constructed prayer. We tend to rely on the beautiful words of those who came before us. When we are wordless, when the feeling we have is so awesome, so fearful, so sad, so joyful that we are left wordless, speechless, these prayers of our people can lift us up and carry us along.
And there are times, like Anne Lamott writes in Traveling Mercies that our two best prayers are, help me, help me, help me and thank you, thank you, thank you. Like Anne Lamott suggests, spontaneous prayer comes without thinking. We pray like that all the time. Articulating those spontaneous prayers is harder for us just because we don’t have much practice doing it.
The point of all of this is that prayer is the work we do in building our end of the relationship we have with God. That relationship is both personal and corporate. Each of us engages the relationship in a very personal way, and need to discover a personal prayer life that is intentional, spirit filled and nurturing. There are myriad ways to grow our personal prayer; one size does not fit all. Personal prayer even changes over time, depending on where and when life takes us. It’s only in the last few years I have been able to sit in quiet prayer. With young children, trying to find quiet time was near impossible, and if I tried to be quiet to begin my day, before anyone else was awake, I just fell asleep again. I also needed to exercise, so I did that early in the morning while everyone else was still asleep, and I learned that I could combine prayer and exercise. That is a discipline I continue even though small children have become large. But I have also found, with some practice that I can spend some time now in quiet prayer, without fidgeting and without falling asleep, most of the time.
We also engage our relationship with God in a corporate way. We gather together in prayer, in fact that is who we are as Episcopalians, people who share common prayer. We sing together, we have silence together, we say our prayers together, we read and hear scripture together, we eat together, and together we are sent out into the world to continue the work God has given us to do.
Bottom line though, is that prayer is a relationship, and a relationship must be worked at, it can’t be taken for granted or set aside, or it will fail. This relationship with God has at its foundation good faith and reciprocal love. It is a relationship that is transformative. "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time- waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God- it changes me," writes C.S. Lewis. Prayer is really much more about us than about God. Prayer is about our overflowing need to know our creator, and to be known by our creator.
And yet I speak of boldness in prayer. How do we speak of boldness in this relationship with God? Especially when in our ears we hear, blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth. How do we speak of asking for what we want, when it seems like God should already know that. Ask, search, knock. I think being bold in our prayer makes us clearer about what we are asking. I think being bold in prayer makes us discern what it is we really may want or need. As we are bold in prayer, who we need to be, what we need to do, whom we need to serve, begins to dawn on us like a beautiful mountain sunrise. A sunrise that illuminates all else.
And I know that God always responds to prayer. Often that response is, no Kathy, not now, not ever. Sometimes that response is a surprise to me. I, in my infinite wisdom, would not do it the same way God does it. C.S. Lewis has also written, “There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way."”
Does prayer really work? I turn to Barbara Brown Taylor, a wonderful preacher and writer, in her collection Home by another way. She says about a young child, “I want her to believe in a God who loves her and listens to her, but in that case I will need some explanation for why it does not always seem that way.” Barbara Brown Taylor continues, “One day, when Madeline asks me outright whether prayer really works, I am going to say, ‘Oh, sweetie, of course it does. It keeps our hearts chasing after God’s heart. It’s how we bother God, and it’s how God bothers us back. There’s nothing that works any better than that.”
Amen.
Jesus seems most interested, at this point, in an invitation to a relationship than an explanation about the technique of prayer. Prayer is not a list, but a relationship. In this passage Jesus invites us into relationship with God through prayer, offering us the opportunity to approach the God whose name is too holy to speak and whose countenance too terrible to behold with the familiarity, boldness, and trust of a young child running to her parent for both provision and protection.
I do think that we tend to get caught up in all sorts of questions about prayer. How do we pray? What do we pray for? And the big ones, does God answer prayer and does prayer change God? Just as Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with, we Episcopalians have all sorts of beautiful prayers that have been handed to us through generations of the faithful, and we have wonderful new prayers that broaden our imaginations. However we are a little bit challenged by extemporaneous prayer. We tend to be formed as people of well thought out and constructed prayer. We tend to rely on the beautiful words of those who came before us. When we are wordless, when the feeling we have is so awesome, so fearful, so sad, so joyful that we are left wordless, speechless, these prayers of our people can lift us up and carry us along.
And there are times, like Anne Lamott writes in Traveling Mercies that our two best prayers are, help me, help me, help me and thank you, thank you, thank you. Like Anne Lamott suggests, spontaneous prayer comes without thinking. We pray like that all the time. Articulating those spontaneous prayers is harder for us just because we don’t have much practice doing it.
The point of all of this is that prayer is the work we do in building our end of the relationship we have with God. That relationship is both personal and corporate. Each of us engages the relationship in a very personal way, and need to discover a personal prayer life that is intentional, spirit filled and nurturing. There are myriad ways to grow our personal prayer; one size does not fit all. Personal prayer even changes over time, depending on where and when life takes us. It’s only in the last few years I have been able to sit in quiet prayer. With young children, trying to find quiet time was near impossible, and if I tried to be quiet to begin my day, before anyone else was awake, I just fell asleep again. I also needed to exercise, so I did that early in the morning while everyone else was still asleep, and I learned that I could combine prayer and exercise. That is a discipline I continue even though small children have become large. But I have also found, with some practice that I can spend some time now in quiet prayer, without fidgeting and without falling asleep, most of the time.
We also engage our relationship with God in a corporate way. We gather together in prayer, in fact that is who we are as Episcopalians, people who share common prayer. We sing together, we have silence together, we say our prayers together, we read and hear scripture together, we eat together, and together we are sent out into the world to continue the work God has given us to do.
Bottom line though, is that prayer is a relationship, and a relationship must be worked at, it can’t be taken for granted or set aside, or it will fail. This relationship with God has at its foundation good faith and reciprocal love. It is a relationship that is transformative. "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time- waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God- it changes me," writes C.S. Lewis. Prayer is really much more about us than about God. Prayer is about our overflowing need to know our creator, and to be known by our creator.
And yet I speak of boldness in prayer. How do we speak of boldness in this relationship with God? Especially when in our ears we hear, blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth. How do we speak of asking for what we want, when it seems like God should already know that. Ask, search, knock. I think being bold in our prayer makes us clearer about what we are asking. I think being bold in prayer makes us discern what it is we really may want or need. As we are bold in prayer, who we need to be, what we need to do, whom we need to serve, begins to dawn on us like a beautiful mountain sunrise. A sunrise that illuminates all else.
And I know that God always responds to prayer. Often that response is, no Kathy, not now, not ever. Sometimes that response is a surprise to me. I, in my infinite wisdom, would not do it the same way God does it. C.S. Lewis has also written, “There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way."”
Does prayer really work? I turn to Barbara Brown Taylor, a wonderful preacher and writer, in her collection Home by another way. She says about a young child, “I want her to believe in a God who loves her and listens to her, but in that case I will need some explanation for why it does not always seem that way.” Barbara Brown Taylor continues, “One day, when Madeline asks me outright whether prayer really works, I am going to say, ‘Oh, sweetie, of course it does. It keeps our hearts chasing after God’s heart. It’s how we bother God, and it’s how God bothers us back. There’s nothing that works any better than that.”
Amen.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
8 Pentecost Yr C
My favorite high school teacher was Mr. Everett Anderson, we affectionately called him Ev. He was a diminutive man. Most of us took his Shakespeare class and actually loved it. Ev could be caught jumping up and down and on top of desks with excitement. Most of us claim him as our favorite teacher, but he didn’t look like or act like or sound like the kind of person any of us would consider cool. Ev taught us about learning, about passion, about reading, and about getting along with one another. Jesus seems to choose the most unlikely teachers for us. The hated Samaritan man, the woman at the well, the child at his feet, the sinners with whom he ate, instead of respected Pharisees or lawyers, instead of authoritative experts or great prophets. However, the teachers Jesus has chosen for us are teachers who do the unexpected and who are the unexpected, like my favorite high school teacher. The Priest and the Levite in the compassionate Samaritan story we read last week, really do what is expected of them. They were not allowed to be unclean, therefore they could not touch the man who had been beaten, they had to, in fact they were required to cross the road.
Our dear Martha in our story today does what is expected of her when she is entertaining people in her home, she can’t be blamed for that. You know what it’s like to have people over to your home for a meal, and Martha has this added stressor, Jesus is actually important in her circle of friends. You know what it’s like to spend the whole day cleaning, you know what it’s like to plan the menu, to buy the groceries, to prepare the meal, to set the table, to get everything just right. And you know what it’s like to feel like you’re in it alone, when no one steps up to help. You get a bit resentful, maybe even cross. You may even say out loud to whoever is close enough to hear, “doesn’t anyone care that I’ve got to do all this work myself?” Ahh, Martha, we are so much like you.
Martha actually has much to teach us. She reminds us of the value and sacredness of the work of hospitality. She reminds us never to take that work for granted; she reminds us that to even begin to meet Jesus, we welcome all comers with food and drink.
When I reported for duty on Friday afternoon for the opening of Hills Alive, the huge Christian music concert in the park, I opened up the bulletin that listed everything going on, and flipped through it. I was reading the thank you page, and there we were. St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, greeters, for the whole city to see. I suddenly realized how much sense that makes. Some have wondered about our involvement at Hills Alive, it is definitely outside of our particular box, and my answer has been about my commitment to “staying at the table.” What I mean by that is that I am committed to being part of the community of people who are Christians, because I think that we all have something to learn, because I don’t think
that there is only one way to walk the Christian journey, and because I know that staying away effectively silences our voice, and I am not interested in being silenced. Our involvement in Hills Alive as greeters, as ministers of hospitality just like Martha, is perfect. The metaphor of “staying at the table” is a metaphor of hospitality. Martha reminds us that the work of doing, of setting the table and inviting all to come, is very important work indeed.
But that is not the only piece of the story today. In the midst of Martha’s frustration with Mary, this is not Martha’s story, it is Mary’s.
Mary becomes the unlikely teacher today. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, in the company of men, receiving all that Jesus has to teach. Mary is doing the unexpected, and making Martha quite mad in the process. Luke’s gospel shows us what the Kingdom of God is like. The Kingdom of God is like Martha working in the kitchen, and Mary learning at Jesus’ feet.
The most helpful way to read this story is in relationship to the story about the compassionate Samaritan. The pairing of these stories point to the importance of doing and hearing in the Gospel of Luke. The placement of these two stories illustrates that it's doing AND hearing, not doing OR hearing that matters. When the lawyer in the compassionate Samaritan story asked about the bottom line of what it means to be saved, Jesus goes to the heart of the matter by telling a story about love in action on the part of a hated stranger toward his most unexpected neighbor. In today's story, we hear that sitting at the feet of Jesus and listening carefully is also important, right at the heart of things, too.
Mary listens to Jesus, and the Kingdom is near. We live in a world that seems to equate busyness with importance, and a long to-do list, especially when it's finally completed, gives us a sense of satisfaction and even security…at least, until we start on a new list of tasks to be completed. Our days are full, one after another, of many things, and our minds are full and overflowing, worried and distracted, sometimes like Martha, by many things.
Can you imagine what life would be like, even for a little while, without all of the things that keep us busy? Can you imagine what life would be like, even for a little while, without all the talking we do? Can you imagine what life would be like, even for a little while, just listening to what Jesus may be saying? It may be a little like the Kingdom.
It seems to me that we can't hear God still speaking if we don't stop, not just sometimes but regularly, and just sit and listen, like Mary at the feet of Jesus. How can the Stillspeaking God get a word in edgewise over the beepers, cell phones, voicemail, television, and radio messages that bombard us? How can we tend to our internal lives like careful gardeners who spend time nurturing new growth, pulling weeds when necessary, and gently showering the thirsty green plants with refreshing water?
Our teachers today, the unexpected one Mary, the expected one Martha, show us the wisdom of balance. Mary shows us the wisdom of quiet listening, of expectant listening, of listening for the voice of Jesus. Martha shows us the wisdom of hospitality. Our job is to find the balance, to make room for both ways to meet God and greet God, and in the encounter, the Kingdom is near.
Our dear Martha in our story today does what is expected of her when she is entertaining people in her home, she can’t be blamed for that. You know what it’s like to have people over to your home for a meal, and Martha has this added stressor, Jesus is actually important in her circle of friends. You know what it’s like to spend the whole day cleaning, you know what it’s like to plan the menu, to buy the groceries, to prepare the meal, to set the table, to get everything just right. And you know what it’s like to feel like you’re in it alone, when no one steps up to help. You get a bit resentful, maybe even cross. You may even say out loud to whoever is close enough to hear, “doesn’t anyone care that I’ve got to do all this work myself?” Ahh, Martha, we are so much like you.
Martha actually has much to teach us. She reminds us of the value and sacredness of the work of hospitality. She reminds us never to take that work for granted; she reminds us that to even begin to meet Jesus, we welcome all comers with food and drink.
When I reported for duty on Friday afternoon for the opening of Hills Alive, the huge Christian music concert in the park, I opened up the bulletin that listed everything going on, and flipped through it. I was reading the thank you page, and there we were. St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, greeters, for the whole city to see. I suddenly realized how much sense that makes. Some have wondered about our involvement at Hills Alive, it is definitely outside of our particular box, and my answer has been about my commitment to “staying at the table.” What I mean by that is that I am committed to being part of the community of people who are Christians, because I think that we all have something to learn, because I don’t think
that there is only one way to walk the Christian journey, and because I know that staying away effectively silences our voice, and I am not interested in being silenced. Our involvement in Hills Alive as greeters, as ministers of hospitality just like Martha, is perfect. The metaphor of “staying at the table” is a metaphor of hospitality. Martha reminds us that the work of doing, of setting the table and inviting all to come, is very important work indeed.
But that is not the only piece of the story today. In the midst of Martha’s frustration with Mary, this is not Martha’s story, it is Mary’s.
Mary becomes the unlikely teacher today. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, in the company of men, receiving all that Jesus has to teach. Mary is doing the unexpected, and making Martha quite mad in the process. Luke’s gospel shows us what the Kingdom of God is like. The Kingdom of God is like Martha working in the kitchen, and Mary learning at Jesus’ feet.
The most helpful way to read this story is in relationship to the story about the compassionate Samaritan. The pairing of these stories point to the importance of doing and hearing in the Gospel of Luke. The placement of these two stories illustrates that it's doing AND hearing, not doing OR hearing that matters. When the lawyer in the compassionate Samaritan story asked about the bottom line of what it means to be saved, Jesus goes to the heart of the matter by telling a story about love in action on the part of a hated stranger toward his most unexpected neighbor. In today's story, we hear that sitting at the feet of Jesus and listening carefully is also important, right at the heart of things, too.
Mary listens to Jesus, and the Kingdom is near. We live in a world that seems to equate busyness with importance, and a long to-do list, especially when it's finally completed, gives us a sense of satisfaction and even security…at least, until we start on a new list of tasks to be completed. Our days are full, one after another, of many things, and our minds are full and overflowing, worried and distracted, sometimes like Martha, by many things.
Can you imagine what life would be like, even for a little while, without all of the things that keep us busy? Can you imagine what life would be like, even for a little while, without all the talking we do? Can you imagine what life would be like, even for a little while, just listening to what Jesus may be saying? It may be a little like the Kingdom.
It seems to me that we can't hear God still speaking if we don't stop, not just sometimes but regularly, and just sit and listen, like Mary at the feet of Jesus. How can the Stillspeaking God get a word in edgewise over the beepers, cell phones, voicemail, television, and radio messages that bombard us? How can we tend to our internal lives like careful gardeners who spend time nurturing new growth, pulling weeds when necessary, and gently showering the thirsty green plants with refreshing water?
Our teachers today, the unexpected one Mary, the expected one Martha, show us the wisdom of balance. Mary shows us the wisdom of quiet listening, of expectant listening, of listening for the voice of Jesus. Martha shows us the wisdom of hospitality. Our job is to find the balance, to make room for both ways to meet God and greet God, and in the encounter, the Kingdom is near.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
7 Pentecost Yr C
In the gospel of Luke today we have a story that is very familiar to us. We are probably most familiar with it as the Good Samaritan, but I’d like you to think of it as the compassionate Samaritan. The compassionate Samaritan is embedded in the story about a lawyer who has come to Jesus asking about eternal life. First, the lawyer asks Jesus what he must to do inherit eternal life. Jesus answers that question with the story of the compassionate Samaritan, and then the lawyer is able to identify who in the story was the neighbor and the lawyer is told by Jesus to go and do likewise. Today I would like for you to entertain the idea that this story is not just about being good. I would like you to see its complexity.
The setup for the story of the compassionate Samaritan is very important. Luke presents the lawyer as questioner. The lawyer represents legal experts who have been present to monitor Jesus’ faithfulness to the law, and legal experts are among those identified as persons responsible for Jesus’ rejection and suffering. However, this lawyer is asking about eternal life, and the question provides the platform for Luke to expound upon the behavior appropriate for an orientation to the resurrection.
The story of the compassionate Samaritan is an illustration of appropriate behavior for a person who loves God and who expects to inherit eternal life. Remember, we’ve talked about this before, when Luke uses the term eternal life, he is referring to the new creation that is a reality in the life of those who profess Jesus Christ as Son of God. The term eternal life is not narrowly defined by what happens after death. It is about the absolutely new life that is the gift of God through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is about living in the here and now as much as it is about the hereafter. Therefore the story of the compassionate Samaritan is about an ethic of compassion,
it is about how we are related to our neighbors.
The setting to the story is on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. This is a very dangerous road, as most travel on foot was in this 1st century rural setting, replete with robbers and full of the possibility of violence. And Jerusalem is the city where the temple is. Many people would be traveling between Jerusalem and Jericho after visiting the temple in Jerusalem.
As are those in this story. First a Priest, then a Levite and lastly a Samaritan.
Next we look at the characters in this story. A priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan. It almost sounds like a joke someone might tell. Something like, a priest, a minister and a rabbi go out fishin. They toss all their stuff in the boat, and push off for the middle of the lake. Once out there, the priest realizes he forgot his lures. So he stands up and steps out of the boat and walks to the shore, gets what he needs and comes on back to the boat. A little later, the minister gets hungry and realizes he forgot his sandwich in the car, so he steps out of the boat, walks to the shore, gets his sandwich and comes on back to the boat. Well, the rabbi had left his jacket in the car and it was getting a little chilly, so he stepped out of the boat but fell right into the water. The priest said to the minister, do you think we should have told him where the stones are?
But, the original hearer of the compassionate Samaritan story is shocked long before the storyteller ever gets to the punch line, because the hearer would think “a priest, a Levite and a Samaritan would never be in the same story.”
You see, the shocking joke here is that it is the Samaritan who is compassionate. The priest and the Levite shared high status in the community of God’s people. They were “temple people.” They were born into priestly families. They were very concerned with relative status, they epitomized the temple culture of who’s in and who’s out, they were in and just about everyone else was out. Within their world, their association with the temple commends them as persons of exemplary piety whose actions would be regarded as self-evidently righteous. The priest and the Levite were accustomed to being evaluated on the basis of their ancestry, not on the basis of their performance.
So the picture the teller of this story has established is of two holy men who have done their business at the temple in Jerusalem, and who are now traveling on the dangerous road to Jericho, who see a man by the side of the road beaten and bleeding, and who pass to the other side of the road instead of helping.
Into the picture arrives the Samaritan, and everyone who is hearing this story laughs. A Samaritan, they exclaim, Samaritans are no good lazy bums. They don’t even go to the temple in Jerusalem to worship, they keep to themselves, there are just not like us. The Samaritan is a man who is in direct contrast to the holy men of the temple. He has no pedigree, he is a merchant, he worships at a different temple. It is this distinction that makes this story shocking.
You and I have heard this story so many times we just about know it by heart. But it is shocking. The Samaritan as the one who has compassion for the beaten and bleeding man at the side of the road is shocking. And, the actions of the Samaritan man condemn the holy men’s failure to act.
The Samaritan is the one who participates in the compassion and covenantal faithfulness of God, not the holy men. This is not just a story about a good guy who helped someone out. This parable of the compassionate Samaritan undermines the system of status and honor based on pedigree that was the way things were in 1st century culture. Once again, Luke is telling us a story that shows how the kingdom of God is near; the kingdom of God is about reordering human interactions.
The conclusion of Luke’s story has Jesus asking the lawyer, who himself has a pedigree, who in this story is the neighbor. The lawyer answered correctly, and Jesus admonishes him to go and do likewise. Eternal life is about compassionate interaction regardless of honor and status.
This is as hard a message to hear in the 21st century as it was in the 1st century. The culture of the 1st century and the culture of the 21st both place so much value on status. The message is clear in all our popular media, worth is based on the size and number of your toys; worth is based on what you wear, where you eat, how big your SUV is. The purpose of assigning worth to all these things is that it then becomes easier to identify those who are below you.
But Jesus shows us that we are honorable and valuable because we are God’s creation. Jesus’ life shows us that in God’s eyes everyone has a place in God’s house, in God’s kingdom. Jesus pours out his life so that we may know that truth. Jesus fills us with new life so that we may have abundant love for ourselves and for others.
Amen, Alleluia!
The setup for the story of the compassionate Samaritan is very important. Luke presents the lawyer as questioner. The lawyer represents legal experts who have been present to monitor Jesus’ faithfulness to the law, and legal experts are among those identified as persons responsible for Jesus’ rejection and suffering. However, this lawyer is asking about eternal life, and the question provides the platform for Luke to expound upon the behavior appropriate for an orientation to the resurrection.
The story of the compassionate Samaritan is an illustration of appropriate behavior for a person who loves God and who expects to inherit eternal life. Remember, we’ve talked about this before, when Luke uses the term eternal life, he is referring to the new creation that is a reality in the life of those who profess Jesus Christ as Son of God. The term eternal life is not narrowly defined by what happens after death. It is about the absolutely new life that is the gift of God through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is about living in the here and now as much as it is about the hereafter. Therefore the story of the compassionate Samaritan is about an ethic of compassion,
it is about how we are related to our neighbors.
The setting to the story is on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. This is a very dangerous road, as most travel on foot was in this 1st century rural setting, replete with robbers and full of the possibility of violence. And Jerusalem is the city where the temple is. Many people would be traveling between Jerusalem and Jericho after visiting the temple in Jerusalem.
As are those in this story. First a Priest, then a Levite and lastly a Samaritan.
Next we look at the characters in this story. A priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan. It almost sounds like a joke someone might tell. Something like, a priest, a minister and a rabbi go out fishin. They toss all their stuff in the boat, and push off for the middle of the lake. Once out there, the priest realizes he forgot his lures. So he stands up and steps out of the boat and walks to the shore, gets what he needs and comes on back to the boat. A little later, the minister gets hungry and realizes he forgot his sandwich in the car, so he steps out of the boat, walks to the shore, gets his sandwich and comes on back to the boat. Well, the rabbi had left his jacket in the car and it was getting a little chilly, so he stepped out of the boat but fell right into the water. The priest said to the minister, do you think we should have told him where the stones are?
But, the original hearer of the compassionate Samaritan story is shocked long before the storyteller ever gets to the punch line, because the hearer would think “a priest, a Levite and a Samaritan would never be in the same story.”
You see, the shocking joke here is that it is the Samaritan who is compassionate. The priest and the Levite shared high status in the community of God’s people. They were “temple people.” They were born into priestly families. They were very concerned with relative status, they epitomized the temple culture of who’s in and who’s out, they were in and just about everyone else was out. Within their world, their association with the temple commends them as persons of exemplary piety whose actions would be regarded as self-evidently righteous. The priest and the Levite were accustomed to being evaluated on the basis of their ancestry, not on the basis of their performance.
So the picture the teller of this story has established is of two holy men who have done their business at the temple in Jerusalem, and who are now traveling on the dangerous road to Jericho, who see a man by the side of the road beaten and bleeding, and who pass to the other side of the road instead of helping.
Into the picture arrives the Samaritan, and everyone who is hearing this story laughs. A Samaritan, they exclaim, Samaritans are no good lazy bums. They don’t even go to the temple in Jerusalem to worship, they keep to themselves, there are just not like us. The Samaritan is a man who is in direct contrast to the holy men of the temple. He has no pedigree, he is a merchant, he worships at a different temple. It is this distinction that makes this story shocking.
You and I have heard this story so many times we just about know it by heart. But it is shocking. The Samaritan as the one who has compassion for the beaten and bleeding man at the side of the road is shocking. And, the actions of the Samaritan man condemn the holy men’s failure to act.
The Samaritan is the one who participates in the compassion and covenantal faithfulness of God, not the holy men. This is not just a story about a good guy who helped someone out. This parable of the compassionate Samaritan undermines the system of status and honor based on pedigree that was the way things were in 1st century culture. Once again, Luke is telling us a story that shows how the kingdom of God is near; the kingdom of God is about reordering human interactions.
The conclusion of Luke’s story has Jesus asking the lawyer, who himself has a pedigree, who in this story is the neighbor. The lawyer answered correctly, and Jesus admonishes him to go and do likewise. Eternal life is about compassionate interaction regardless of honor and status.
This is as hard a message to hear in the 21st century as it was in the 1st century. The culture of the 1st century and the culture of the 21st both place so much value on status. The message is clear in all our popular media, worth is based on the size and number of your toys; worth is based on what you wear, where you eat, how big your SUV is. The purpose of assigning worth to all these things is that it then becomes easier to identify those who are below you.
But Jesus shows us that we are honorable and valuable because we are God’s creation. Jesus’ life shows us that in God’s eyes everyone has a place in God’s house, in God’s kingdom. Jesus pours out his life so that we may know that truth. Jesus fills us with new life so that we may have abundant love for ourselves and for others.
Amen, Alleluia!
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