Monday, December 17, 2012

Joy in a time of tragedy?


Third Sunday of Advent – Year C
December 16, 2012
Zephaniah 3:14-20

            This morning we lit our third advent candle.  It was pink.  All the other candles are purple, with the Christ candle being white.  So the fact that today’s candle is pink must mean it’s special in some way.  The third Sunday in Advent is the Sunday we celebrate and name with ‘joy’.  I don’t know about you, but after the events of the last few days I’m not sure if I can find much to be joyful about.
            The events that happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut on Friday have caused all of us to pause.  I know I hugged my girls a little closer that evening.  When horrific, terrible things happen we want to know why.  In the week before the latest tragedy we learned that the lives of two girls from just a few miles away have also been ended.  We heard about multiple shootings on the West Coast on the news.  We read about the escalation of tensions between Israel and Palestine.  We hear about the continuing events in Syria.  How many other little girls, how many other children, how many other people have lost their lives in the last week?
            It’s crazy.  We live in a world where it seems as if life is suddenly cheap.  It’s easier to get a gun than to see a doctor in many places.  There’s something wrong with that.  It seems as if every day we hear or read about some new atrocity rising up to replace the one from the previous day.  Unless of course it’s not quite as bad, then the old will remain until some new even worse or more exciting tragedy shows up.  Sometimes I don’t want to turn on my t.v. or computer; I don’t need, I don’t want, to see what new terrible thing has happened.
            Today we are supposed to be joyful.  Isn’t that what we heard this morning from the prophet Zephaniah? “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel!  Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!”  Isaiah writes, “Shout aloud, and sing for joy!”  On any other Sunday I’m sure that we could easily gather around our Advent wreath, around our Christmas trees and sing songs of joy.  We could look at our children’s happy faces and smile with joy, and not sigh with relief that we have not had to face the terrible news that so many have had to deal with in the last few days.  Rejoice, be joyful – after all our candle is pink.
            It doesn’t seem possible.  It doesn’t seem right, appropriate, even decent.  How are we supposed to find joy when everything going on around us seems so dark?  How are we supposed to look forward with hope, when the dreams and hopes of so many have been so brutally snuffed out?  Is it even right that as people of faith we gather to celebrate this Sunday we call joy when joy is the last thing on our mind?  Our readings and liturgical calendar call us to cry out, “rejoice!”, when our hearts want to cry out, “Where is God?”
            We are not the first, and we will not be the last, who wonder about the presence of God in the midst of tragedy, the role of the spiritual when innocent lives are lost.  Two and a half thousand years ago the nation of Israel was in a state of chaos and tragedy.  The king of Israel at the time was Manasseh.  Manasseh was a puppet king for the Assyrians who had conquered the Promised Land.  The Assyrians were not what you would call nice people; and Manasseh was a puppet king in their image.  History and scripture has recorded that he was one of the most evil and wicked rulers that ever sat on the throne of Israel.  In 2 Kings we read how he defiled the temple with false gods, how instead of trusting in our God he turned to fortune tellers and magicians.  How he didn’t lift up those who followed the ways of God, but persecuted them.  We even read how he killed innocent children, how he practiced child sacrifice, going so far as killing his own son.  2 Kings tells us that “Manasseh spilled so much innocent blood that he filled up every corner of Jerusalem with it.” (2 Kings 21:16)  It was at this time, in this situation, in this time of darkness and evil that Zephaniah wrote his words.
            To be accurate, Zephaniah doesn’t start with joy.  The words we read today are the last verses of the scroll; and for most of the preceding chapters it was far from joyful.  Those preceding verses and chapters are filled with Zephaniah speaking in the voice of God, speaking out against the evil that was happening in Israel.  In words eerily similar to the emotions that many of us probably felt on Friday and since, he writes of a day “of fury, a day of distress and anxiety, a day of desolation and devastation, a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and deep darkness, a day for blowing the trumpet and alarm.” (2:15)
            So often in the face of tragedy and horror we want to make sense of it all, or explain it, or even figure out who to blame for it, but Zephaniah doesn’t do that.  He tells it like it is and what it is: horror, tragedy, suffering.    The setting may be different, but the emotions, the feelings we are experiencing of anger and pain, sorrow, desolation and despair are named by Zephaniah.  But, Zephaniah doesn’t just say that things are bad, he tells us that God is with us in it; that God is experiencing the same anger, hurt and mourning we are feeling.
            Then, at the very end of the book, Zephaniah makes the shift.  Not only is God with the Israelites in their pain, in their anger and sorrow, in their despair and tragedy; God was going to do something about it.  “Wait for me.  I will come.  I will remove the disaster from you.”  Not now. Not yet. Not joy realized, but joy promised. Not joy fulfilled, but joy coming.  Zephaniah does not declare that everything is alright, or even that it will be alright again soon.  Nothing about dead children is ever “alright,” whether two days or 2 and a half millennia ago, whether caused by a mass shooting or an abusive king, or war, or famine, or bullying, or addiction, or suicide, or cancer, or anything else.  He does not tell us to get over it, move on, or be happy.  The prophet speaks of joy because he wants us to know that in spite of it all, God still reigns. How could he speak of joy in the face of tragedy?  How could he not.  How can we not?
            It’s not about thumbing our nose at tragedy or despair.  It’s not about saying that it’s all in God’s plan, or God will make something good out of the bad.  It’s about proclaiming that no amount of darkness, no amount of tragedy can ever diminish, remove, stop the promise of God, that God would come, that God will rescue us; that God will be with us.  Emmanuel.
            The words of Zephaniah share with us the promise of God, “The time is coming when you will not fear evil ever again!  I am in your midst, and I will create calm with my love. I will heal the lame.  I will gather the outcast.  I will change your shame into praise.  I will bring all of you home.”
            In the darkest of night, a flickering candle can scatter the gloom.  At this time, in the midst of our questioning, our gloom, our sorrow, our anger and pain, we need the light of a pink candle more than ever.  The candle promises of light that is to come.  It promises of hope that will never go away.  We need the promise of joy, today, not because the joy is here; but because we need to know that it is still coming.
We may not feel it.  We may not recognize it.  We may not even want to see it, but it doesn’t mean that God’s promise of joy is not there, waiting to spring forth, waiting to become real, waiting to be amongst us.  Emmanuel.  In the midst of our fear, in the midst of our grief, in the midst of our anger and questioning, we hear the promise spoken again by an angel to shepherds on a hill,  “Fear not, for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.”  Amen.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Kingdom of Grace and Peace


John 18:33-37

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?" Pilate replied, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here." Pilate asked him, "So you are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice."

As of a few days ago we have officially entered the holiday season. For the next month and a bit our already busy lives will become busier, and the amount of stress that we are all carrying will most likely increase. The holiday season is one that we all tend to both look forward to and dread at the same time. We look forward to the good times, the happiness, the joy of Christmas morning, the joy of a new year. Yet we also dread things. How will we ever use up all the leftover turkey? How will we deal with those extra holiday pounds that always seem to show up? There seems to always be something that we need to watch out for. As we get older we tend to be better and better in anticipating those potential headaches; it’s either that or we simply don’t care as much.

One of the things that we all have come to understand is that there are certain traditions, certain things that you have to do, and avoid doing at all costs. I’ve noticed that many of them involve the kitchen, or at least mealtime. This last week when we celebrated Thanksgiving, we had to have a roast in addition to a turkey because that’s part of the tradition (my mother-in-law doesn’t consider it a holiday meal without a roast.) I was also reminded that I was now the unofficial, official carver of the meat – which meant that there was absolutely no way any of the slices were the same thickness or size, or stayed the same thickness from the top of the slice to the bottom. Every family has its traditions, has its own unique way of doing things.

One of the hurdles that every couple that gets married, or gets serious has to overcome is learning the rules of the new extended family. The better one learns and masters the rules the happier the holidays and family get-togethers will be. You can always tell the new ones at the family functions, they are the ones who are being a little too helpful in the kitchen, the ones setting uncle Bob and cousin Jim near each other. They are the ones who put the potatoes in grandma’s special bowl. You must learn the ways of the family. We all have things to learn about life and this world.

How often have we observed a child making a mistake in a social situation and commented, “They need to learn the ways of the world.” We go to a mechanic to get our car repaired, and know that they will most likely try to get us to repair something that really doesn’t need to be repaired, because, “that’s the way the world works.” We see businesses and individuals achieving success and notoriety on the backs and hard work of others, and accept it because, ‘that’s the way the world works.” We all have our own memories and experiences when we learned how the world works; when we became hardened to the world around us. I think it’s funny how we sometimes speak of children not yet being jaded by the world, how they have not yet learned the ways of the world. And then we have Jesus’ comment about his kingdom and how it operates. Maybe there is even more to Jesus’ comment about children and the entering the kingdom than we thought.

Today we celebrate Christ the King Sunday. It’s the last day of the church year; next Sunday we begin Advent with its yearly time of introspection and preparation for the Christmas celebration. In recent years, many churches have renamed Christ the King Sunday, and are calling it The Reign of Christ. Most of these have done so because of the term ‘king’. Let’s face it, we’ve all lived in a democracy for so long that our understanding of a king is based on stories and movies. That’s one of the reasons. For others, the term ‘king’ is problematic because of other reasons having to do with the unfortunate misuse of power exerted by men in this world. I grew up celebrating Christ the King, it’s the way I think of this day; but, there is something to opening ourselves to thinking of it as The Reign of Christ.

When we focus on Christ the King, we focus on an event, a person. When we focus on the Reign of Christ we focus on a way of existence, an ongoing process of which we are a part, and can play a part. One way, we focus on the person, in the other we focus on the effects of his reign. A reign, a way of ruling, a kingdom that Jesus said is not of this world; that does not function the way the world thinks things should be. The world has lots to tell us about how we are supposed to treat a king. How we are supposed to quiver in fear at their feet. How we are supposed to avert our eyes not look at them, lest they become angry.

Jesus said to his disciples, “follow me”, not obey me, not worship me, not submit to me. To follow someone is dramatically different than those things. So often in the church we worship the Christ, rather than following Jesus. Jesus said his kingdom is not from this world, not of this world. The people Jesus was speaking to understood kingdom, understood empire in terms of the Roman Empire. The way Rome did things was the way they understood empire. Jesus said that his way was different. Power was not about how many legions of soldiers you had, or the number of people who cowered in fear and submission. Power was found in service and servanthood.

In Jesus’ kingdom, in his empire, the poor were not put aside as riff-raff, as those that you walked past on the street. The poor were seen as fellow people on the journey, as opportunities to prove that Jesus’ kingdom was truly present in word and deed. In Jesus’ kingdom children were embraced and welcomed as the gifts they were. In Jesus’ kingdom, the stranger and foreigner was welcomed as friends we have not yet met. The sick were cared for. The sinner was not shunned but welcomed into a community of love. In Jesus’ kingdom our belonging, our membership, our citizenship isn’t so much based on our declaration of, “Jesus is Lord”, as much as it is in following.

In the first century, declaring someone as Lord was dangerous. Caesar was, according to Roman Law, the only person to have the title of Lord. To declare someone else as Lord was to break the law, was to invite the punishment of the Roman Empire down upon your head, was to declare that you were part of something other than Rome; and in an Empire that sought for uniformity and obedience, it was a crime punishable by death if one did not recant. Nowadays, things have changed greatly. In this country, we can freely say Jesus is Lord without truly thinking about it. We can stand on the street corner and announce Jesus is Lord to passersby; we can go door to door in our neighborhoods telling people that Jesus is Lord and get little more than a chuckle or a door slammed in our face. The police would most likely not be called; you probably wouldn’t end up in prison. You may even be admired by many and get an article in the paper praising you for your great faith. Certainly you wouldn’t face crucifixion.

Things have changed. So the question we must ask is if Jesus’ kingdom is still not of this world? Something’s definitely different. Is it the world? Or is it the way we have allowed the world to infect the kingdom? Without a doubt there are some ways in which the kingdom has impacted our world. We speak more openly about freedom and equality. We speak more openly about the ways we are called to support one another, and care for one another. But, have we lost our edge? Is the church still a voice that declares that there is a different way of doing things? How different is the way of the world from the way things are within the church? There was a time when to declare oneself as Christian was to set yourself against the world, to place yourself in the minority. When was the last time the church was the voice that rang out against the world?

I just finished reading The Underground Church by Robin Meyers. I whole heartedly recommend it; I am sure it will open your eyes and challenge you as it did me. In the book Rev. Meyers speaks about the church’s need to reclaim its voice of opposition to the world. This rebirth of the church is what he calls the Underground Church. I want to close with a reading from the close of one of his chapters. When he speaks of radical, think in terms of not according to the ways of the world.

In the Underground Church, not every action needs to be newsworthy to be radical. Visiting a nursing home is one of the most countercultural things a human being can do. All it takes is mindful noncompliance with the forces of death and division. All it takes is a refusal to accept the status quo when the status quo is immoral. If our good news is not bad news to those who steal the future, then what right do we have to sing our hymns about the “sweet by and by”? We should not make promises about things that we refuse to help deliver.

Gandhi once provided a list of seven social sins, which ought to animate the Underground Church, uniting both liberals and conservatives around principles worth fighting for. He said we must resist politics without principle, wealth without work, commerce without morality, pleasure without conscience, education without character, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice.

Instead of offering up more tired arguments about theological and doctrinal “purity,” let us claim a future that we are simultaneously involved in creating. Christian eschatology is not escapism, not fear mongering, not the anticipation of the ultimate cosmic revenge. It is, as the great New Testament scholar and poet Amos Niven Wilder points out, the basis for Christian ethics. We behave justly in anticipation of a just future.

What could be more radical than that?
” (The Underground Church, by Robin Meyers, p. 218)  Can we challenge ourselves to live our lives in the world, not seeking to escape from it, but instead seeking to live according to a different way? We are all in the world; but are we of it? Maybe we’ve learned the rules of the world a little too well. Lord, may thy kingdom come. Amen.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Threshing Floor


Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 27
November 11, 2012
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17

Naomi her mother-in-law said to her, "My daughter, I need to seek some security for you, so that it may be well with you. Now here is our kinsman Boaz, with whose young women you have been working. See, he is winnowing barley tonight at the threshing floor. Now wash and anoint yourself, and put on your best clothes and go down to the threshing floor; but do not make yourself known to the man until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, observe the place where he lies; then, go and uncover his feet and lie down; and he will tell you what to do." She said to her, "All that you tell me I will do."

So Boaz took Ruth and she became his wife. When they came together, the Lord made her conceive, and she bore a son. Then the women said to Naomi, "Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without next-of-kin; and may his name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age; for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has borne him." Then Naomi took the child and laid him in her bosom, and became his nurse. The women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, "A son has been born to Naomi." They named him Obed; he became the father of Jesse, the father of David.

When I was in high school I took part in the musical The Fiddler on the Roof.  Probably the most famous song from that musical is Matchmaker, which makes sense because the musical is all about how Tevya has three daughters all in need of husbands.  We see time after time how the women in the story go their own way, often at Tevya’s own pain and disappointment.  Another musical/movie that has those themes within it is the Disney movie Mulan; in it we see Mulan’s family worrying and wondering when she is going to stop running around like a child, settle down and find a man.  It’s amazing how the stories of women having others (parents, aunts, grandmothers) seeking the proper man in their lives is such a popular storyline.  Perhaps we like it because in some ways it seems so much simpler than the hoops, and dates, the wining and dining that seems to be required now in order to woo someone into a relationship or marriage.
But then, maybe it just seems easier.  Where I grew up in New Guinea arranged marriages were still the norm.  Families would bicker and barter back and forth about who was the best spouse for their child, eventually reaching a decision and setting on an agreed price for the bride.  Women in that culture weren’t just seen as property (which is bad enough), they were treated as property being bought and sold for livestock and cash.  Families would sometimes get into huge arguments about the monetary value of their child, and what was to be expected if the match was agreed to.  Imagine how the couples felt, since many times they only met each other on the day of their marriage.  Personally, I would rather have the practice of dating and falling in love with someone rather than what was is still so often the practice in many cultures around the world.
Regardless of the culture, one of the basic building blocks of society is the practice of people coming together in a marriage or covenant relationship.  People come together for love, but in many places it’s about security and being able to ensure your own survival and way of life.
Ruth and Naomi have returned to Bethlehem.  They are doing the best they can to survive.  Thankfully one of the traditions of Judaism at that time was the way in which they harvested the grain in the fields.  “Jewish custom provided for the poor by protecting their rights to gather grain in a field after the hired workers had passed through.  The edges of the field were to be left for the poor to reap (Leviticus 19:9-10; 23:22). Widows who were alone could survive only by gleaning or begging.  Gleaning is the practice of gathering what has been dropped in the fields or left on the vines after a harvest.  In addition, gleaners were also allowed to harvest what was left standing in the corners of the field.  Hebrew law also said that landowners could not clean up their own fields, vineyards, or orchards so that widows, orphans, and resident aliens would be able to find enough to eat.”[1]
Ruth being the younger and presumably more physically able of the two goes to glean the barley fields.  By chance she ends up working in the fields of one of Naomi’s kinsmen – Wait a second, didn’t we just hear last week in our lesson that Naomi didn’t have any kinsmen?  Hmmm.  Maybe she just didn’t like him or something.  Anyway, Ruth goes to the fields, Boaz sees her and likes what he sees.  But, being an older and more mature man, he does the decent thing – nothing (other than doting on her and treating her in a preferred way).  Boaz reaches out to her, making sure that she is safe and has plenty to eat and take home to Naomi – I’m positive not all the gleaners went home with the equivalent of 5 gallons of barley from their work.  But, for the most part, he keeps his distance.
Namoi though, is losing her patience and launches into her matchmaker mode.  She goes about figuring out the best plan for getting Ruth and Boaz together.   She basically tells Ruth to get as pretty as she can, and find a way to get Boaz alone someplace, and there convince him that she is the woman he needs in his life.  Ruth, ever devoted to Naomi, responds, “All that you tell me I will do."  And by the end of the story, not only have Ruth and Boaz gotten together, but Naomi has become the nursemaid to their son who by chance is also the grandfather of the boy who would grow up to be King David.  That’s how you spell success as a matchmaker, not only do you get the couple together, you get to be a part of the family, and hold the fruits of your efforts.
So, we know the story, but the real issue we need to wrestle with is what we are to learn from Naomi, Ruth and Boaz today.  At the center of the story of Ruth is decision and separation.  Ruth decides to follow Naomi, even if it means separating herself from the country, traditions, and god that she grew up with.  Ruth goes to the fields looking for food, and must separate the good grain that was left in the field from the leftovers that were without value.  Then, she goes to Boaz on the threshing floor, the very place where the grain was separated from its shell.  The finale of our story happens on the threshing floor, and I believe it is there we can find some meaning for today.
It is the threshing floor where we separate the desired from the undesired, the beneficial from the detrimental.  A threshing floor only works, only functions when all that is good, all that is bad, everything is brought and dealt with.  If you bring only what appears to be good, you miss out on a lot of grain that might not look so good on the outside, but is of great worth once the chaff is stripped away.  When it comes to the fruit of the threshing floor the saying, “garbage in, garbage out” does not apply.  You cannot know what the fruit of the threshing will be based on what goes in.
Where are the threshing floors in our lives?  Where are the places we go to examine our lives to separate the chaff from the seed?  Where do we go when we wish to separate the chaff from the grain in the lives of people we meet?   The threshing floor is and must be a place of nurture and character development and discernment; it must also be a place where we find acceptance, well-being and life.  For some the threshing floor may be within their family, or in a close friendship or other relationship.  For others the threshing floor might be in school or a therapist’s office.  But for many people, the threshing floor in their life is the church.
Within the confines of the church we are formed and reshaped, the chaff of our lives is stripped off and the good is given the freedom to shine.  The church, as the place where the message of Jesus’ love and grace is taught, learned and experienced must also be a place of transformation.  The church is not a place first and foremost for the holy – just as the threshing floor is not a place for the finished grain.  The church is a place where we come to be transformed, to make that journey from sinner to saint, from chaff to grain.  The church fails to be true to one of its purposes, one of its callings, unless it is a force for transformation in the world, doing all it can in seeking to transform both the people and this world into the Kingdom of God.  The church is not, and cannot be, true to itself, unless it is a church that lives out its faith by actively working to realize the Kingdom of God here in its words and actions.  God desires us to live in community with one another, a community of love and service, a community that lives out its thankfulness to God by working toward the goal of a just and loving world.
In our Gospel lesson this morning we heard the account of the poor widow putting in her two coins, and those who had much making a show of their giving.  I heard a story once about a young boy, years ago in a big city, who sold newspapers in order to survive.  One Sunday morning the weather was terrible and he escaped into a church during worship to escape from the cold outside.  He sat quietly in the back pew of the church as the service progressed.  Toward the end of the service, the time came for the offering.
The young boy watched as the ushers walked around the church passing the plates through the congregation, working their way back slowly toward him.  When they reached him, they held the offering plate out in front of the small boy.  He looked at it with wide eyes, then asked the usher to put it down on the floor in front of him.  Then, he carefully stepped into the plate.  The usher was shocked to say the least, and more than a little angry.  “What did you do that for?”  he angrily accused the boy.  In a small quiet voice, with tears running down his cheeks the boy replied, “Mister, I don’t have any money; I haven’t sold a single newspaper today, but if Jesus did everything that preacher said he did just for me, I will gladly give my life to Him.”
            When we come to the threshing floor, God wants us to bring everything we have and are.  It’s about putting all our good things and all our not so good things into God’s hands.  It’s about allowing God to take us and make us into the people we were created to be.  It’s about sacrificing all we are because God has already sacrificed his only son that we might live.  Is everything we have, everything we are, everything we could ever be, too much to ask, or not enough?  Amen.

Monday, October 15, 2012

What do I have to do?


Mark 10:17-31

As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, "Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus said to him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: 'You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.'" He said to him, "Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth." Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, "How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!" And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, "Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God." They were greatly astounded and said to one another, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus looked at them and said, "For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible." 

Peter began to say to him, "Look, we have left everything and followed you." Jesus said, "Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first."  

I doubt many of us would consider ourselves wealthy; perhaps comfortable, but wealthy?  But, if you have a bank account with even a few dollars in it, you are among the wealthiest people in the world.   But, what does it mean to be wealthy?  Well, that depends on how you think about wealth.  Does it mean how much money you make, how much property you own?  Is it your ability to provide for all your needs and still have stuff left over?

I found a list online[1]  of the average yearly income of individuals around the world broken down by countries.  Of  the 214 countries listed, the countries from 183 down have an average yearly income of less than $350, that’s 31 countries.  From 152 to 182, 30 countries, the average is less than $2000.  From 114 to 152, the average is less than $5000.  So, 100 countries have an average yearly income of less than $5000.  From 83 to 114 the average is less than $10000.  The average income of the top 50 countries finally brings you in above $20000.  The top 10 countries average in near or above $50000.   If you add up the average of the top 10 countries ($580,600) it’s the equivalent of the bottom 114 countries.  In case you are curious, the United States falls in at number 10 with an average per capita yearly income of $48,800.

As all of us are far too aware, it’s an election year.  Time after time, it seems as if the primary question politicians ask us has to do with our wealth.  Are you better off now than you were four years ago?  There are so many things that the government can focus on, that they could be concerned with.  And yet, so much of the time the focus is on money.  The politicians like to look into your eye, grab you by your greedy little boots and make you think first and foremost about yourself.  Perhaps, in the light of this morning’s text and the teachings of Jesus the better question would be, “Is your neighbor better off than they were four years ago, and what have you done to better their situations?”

The text we heard is common, we've all heard it before, and it’s one of those texts that make us squirm in our seats.  Individually, when we compare ourselves to our neighbors we might think of ourselves as being better or worse off, but in comparison with just about every country around the world the poor here are among the richest, which makes all of us here among the wealthiest in the world.  And we all remember what Jesus said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."  No wonder the disciples exclaimed, “then who can be saved?”

In ancient times (and in our time) financial blessings were seen as being a confirmation of the blessings from the divine.  We heard from Job this morning, at the beginning of his trials, at the end, after all the death and disease, poverty and exclusion we read, “The Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning; and he had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand donkeys. ”  There it is, right there in the Bible, we see material and financial comfort being synonymous with God’s blessings.  No wonder the rich young man didn't consider his wealth as that which was holding him back; no wonder the disciples were so surprised by Jesus’ words.  His wealth was a sign of God’s blessings, at least it was in his eyes.

He had lived a blessed life.  He was without a doubt a person of great faith.  He had lived his life in a way that was in accordance with the law of Moses.  He had done everything in his power to ensure his place in paradise, everything in his power to inherit eternal life.  Yet, even though he had done so much, he still felt unsure of his final destination.  So, he comes with his question.  “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  It’s a question that I’m sure many of us have uttered, or something very close to something we have felt.  Really, it’s not a question that you ask unless you have faith of some kind.  That’s why Jesus looked at him and loved him.  In fact, this is the only person in Mark’s gospel that Jesus loved.  The young man’s faith is deep, he’s made sacrifices in the way he lives his life, seeking to follow the way of God, his faith is his guide.  Jesus loves him.  And based on the way he addressed Jesus, and came seeking his wisdom and guidance, the man loved Jesus as well.

Yet, there is something missing, and he can sense it.  Jesus answers his question, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."  Based on the young man’s response, that probably wasn’t the answer he was looking for.  We could even ask if he really wanted an answer, maybe he just wanted to hear confirmation from Jesus about how he had succeeded all expectations and had inherited eternal life.  Regardless, the young man hears Jesus’ answer and walks away grieving.  Was he grieving because he knew he could never do what Jesus asked?  Was he grieving because he was going to do what Jesus asked and he was overwrought with emotion?  Had Jesus’ answer closed in like a heat-seeking missile on how it was the young man defined himself?

How do we define ourselves?  Is it our possessions?  Our relationships?  Our job?  How did the young man in our text define himself?  - his possessions?  Is Jesus challenging him and us to release ourselves from the ways in which we define ourselves?  That those things don’t really matter, and that clinging to those definitions limits our ability to allow God in and transform us into the person we were created to be?  For the young man, it appears he defined himself by the things he had accomplished, the things he had done, the possessions he had, the land he owned, the amount of money in his bank account.  Jesus looks at him, loves him, and challenges him to redefine himself – it’s not about what he has, or what he has done.  Gaining eternal life is never about anything that we can do, faith and its rewards are never about anything we do.

Jesus tells the young man to let go, don’t cling to the things you think are important, don’t trust in the things you have done,  don’t focus on what you do.  If we focus on our actions, on what we do, entering the Kingdom of God is impossible (a camel through the eye of a needle) but if we focus on God’s grace, and God’s actions then anything is possible.  Entering the Kingdom isn’t about us doing, it’s about God having done. 

What must we do to inherit eternal life? We must let go of all that we have and all that we do that gets in the way of seeing that there is nothing we can do to save ourselves. Even then, letting go of it all is beyond our capacity. The hardest news Jesus has is the best news we could get -- our salvation is impossible for us to work out "But not for God; for God all things are possible."

Discipleship, following Jesus, isn’t like getting into a pool step by step, inch by inch, until you are finally in the water (on your terms), it’s about letting go completely and jumping in, committing totally to getting wet, rather than trying to keep your hair dry.  Following Jesus isn’t about trying to make the needle bigger, or the camel smaller so that things get easier.  It’s about trusting in God to make the impossible possible.  It’s about focusing less on ourselves and more on our neighbors.  It’s about remembering that God is God, and we are not.  It’s not about the size of our bank account, the number of successes we have, the ‘blessings’ we have received.  It’s about not focusing on what we think we can do to get into the Kingdom of Heaven, it’s about doing all we can to transform the world we live in into the Kingdom of God.  It’s not about us doing anything to earn or receive eternal life, it’s about giving everything up to God.  And, giving things up completely to God is what grace is all about.  Amen.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Love the sinner, hate the sin


It’s a phrase that you hear a lot in the church, especially in regard to those who are attracted to individuals of the same gender, those the public refers to as homosexuals.  It’s thrown out without a whole lot of thought, and I wonder if people really think about it.  Is it a phrase that can be used within a faith community, especially a Christian one, and remain true?  Is it biblical?

First, I think it’s important to note that the phrase never occurs in the Bible.  There are similar verses that can be teased out and interpreted in such a way that they potentially have that understanding.  However, the phrase itself comes from Gandhi’s 1929 autobiography.  I find it fascinating that so many Christians have adopted the words of a Hindu as biblical truth – truly the Spirit moves in amazing ways!

Many people over the years have attempted to address this phrase, and I do not know if adding to the wise and learned words of others will do anything other than muddy the waters; but after hearing the phrase again over the weekend, I feel I need to respond.

What does it mean to love?  In ancient Greek there are four forms of love, each with their own distinct meanings:  Eros – that’s romantic love.  Philia – that’s the love friends have for one another.  Storge – that’s the love that exists within a family: parent to child, sibling to sibling, etc.  Agape – unconditional love (God’s love).  Whenever we speak about love (or its opposite) we must be aware of the type of love we are speaking of.  Obviously when I say to my best friend, “I love you, man”  it means something different than when I say, “I love you” to my spouse.

The Bible has lots of things to say about love.  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” (Deut 6:5)  “He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord.” (Psalm 33:5)  “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end;” (Lament. 3:22)  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” (John 3:16)  “If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” (1 Cor. 13:1)  “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” (1 Jn 4:7,8)

The Bible also has some things to say about hate.  “Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?  I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies.” (Psalm 139: 21,22)  “You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you”  (Matt 5:43,44)  “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”  (Luke 14:26)

So, what is hate?  Hate is defined by Webster’s Dictionary as “a: Intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury; b : extreme dislike or antipathy”  That’s a rather basic definition, which is the way most dictionaries define words.  But, we all know that there are lots of variations when it comes to hate.  The hate we announce as children for brussel sprouts, the hate we claim for paying taxes, the hate we have for those who abuse children are all similar but not identical.  The hate the Bible speaks of when hating enemies and hating our parents cannot be the same, can it?

Here’s the thing.  Hebrew (and many ancient languages) does not have within itself the ability to express “more than” or “less than”.  So, when presenting two or more things that are in opposition to one another it must do so in complete opposition rather than in a gradient.  So, in English you can say, “I like the Vikings more than the Cowboys”, but in Hebrew you would have to say, “I love the Vikings, I hate the Cowboys.”  Wow, what a difference!  So, in that context when Jesus is talking about hating parents and siblings, he’s really saying that you can’t put following Jesus as being less important than our other relationships – not that we have to hate our parents in order to follow him.   I mean, how would we understand Jesus’ words on the cross to John, “Here is your mother” if that were the case?

So, love the sinner, hate the sin.  How would we understand that phrase differently if we were to understand from a Hebraic perspective (recognizing of course that it was not spoken in Hebrew)?  Love the sinner more than you love their sin.  All of a sudden in that context it comes to have this feeling that our love is supposed to be greater than any sin of the other.  Love > Sin.

And isn’t that the message of the Bible?

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Stumbling Blocks


Mark 9:38-50

John said to him, "Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us." But Jesus said, "Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterwards to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.

"If any of you put a stumbling-block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

"For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another."

It’s pretty much a daily experience in my house, and I’m sure all of you have experienced it as well. I’ll be walking through the living room not truly paying attention to what I am doing when I stumble over something. One of the girls left something on the floor, a toy. Maybe it’s a pair of shoes, maybe something else just put down rather than put away; maybe it was the dog. I stumble, and after regaining my balance I snap. Most often I usually snap out at what I stumbled over; yelling at an inanimate object that can’t understand and can’t do anything about it. Then, after I realize what I stumbled over I’ll yell out to whoever I think is at fault for just leaving something lying there in the middle of the room. The tough thing to admit is how often it’s actually my fault, or largely my fault that it was there. That doesn’t change me wanting to snap though, find fault in someone else for my stumbles.

None of us like to stumble or trip. The feeling of complete helplessness as your body pitches forward is unsettling; waiting for your body to hit the ground is not enjoyable no matter how you look at it. Most of the time when we worry about stumbling or tripping, we do so worrying about ourselves; seeking to protect ourselves from bumps and bruises. We walk through a dark room carefully, feeling forward with our hands or our toes, wary of any potential dangers lurking ahead of us. But for some people, their concerns about stumbling are not with their own steps but another’s.

In the last year, the beautiful golden lab that calls my in-laws mom and dad has gone progressively blind due to diabetes. It’s heart-breaking to watch a dog that used to trot around the yard happily seeking out a rabbit, chasing a squirrel, barking at another dog walking down the sidewalk become an animal that no longer does those things. Rudy has become almost completely blind, we think he might be able t still see light and dark; but that would be about it. Outside Rudy is cautious, he’s fallen down the steps too many times going from the porch to the yard, run into too many gardening tools left outside. He shuffles forward scared of what will jump into him out of the darkness. Inside he’s much more confident. My in-laws tend not to move their furniture around, so Rudy has a detailed map in his mind of where everything is. He can walk from room to room with little difficulty. But, as soon as something isn’t where it normally is, as soon as someone puts down a laundry basket in the middle of a normally empty path, he runs into it. And then, for the next day or so he very cautiously walks through that area of the room – maybe it’s still there. The humans in the house do all they can to make sure the furniture remains in their normal positions, that boxes, baskets and other obstacles are kept out of the way as much as possible. They work hard to make sure that Rudy doesn’t have any stumbling blocks.

The experience is similar to that of people who have a human member of their family who is blind. I visited the home once of a man who was completely blind. He walked from room to room in his apartment, he went into his kitchen and got things out of the cupboard. He was confident in his motions – he knew his house plan, he knew where everything was. He did everything in his power to keep from stumbling. Of course, if someone came into his house and moved things around, he was going to have some accidents.

This is a text about stumbling blocks. The disciples are the ones who seem to have a good idea where everything is, or at least where they think it should be. They come to Jesus with a complaint about someone who was casting out demons, bringing relief and comfort to individuals and families in Jesus’ name, who wasn’t part of their little group. That was wrong, that was something that didn’t fit in their carefully constructed world. They were the disciples, they were the chosen few; they were the ones who had the answers – not these people who they didn’t even know. What right did they have to do these things?

Jesus is having none of it. He responds rather harshly and doesn’t hold back. “Anyone who does a good deed in my name will not easily be able to say anything bad about me. Remember, whoever isn’t against us is for us.” We don’t really know what Jesus was getting at. Was he trying to tell his disciples to relax, not to worry so much about these others who were doing good – instead focus on the good that was being done? Was he telling them that one day they themselves might be dependent on the generosity of others outside of their “little click”? Was he telling them something specific about drawing lines between themselves and others? Perhaps.

What we do know is that we in the church are very prone to draw lines between those who are in and those who are out. Sometimes we do it by gender. Many Christian traditions still restrict ordained leadership to men. Sometimes we do it by ordination. In many traditions anyone can proclaim the Word of God in the sermon but only those who are ordained can read words off a page to celebrate Holy Communion? Sometimes we do it by age, smiling kindly at the words of a child but not truly hearing the spirit and wisdom of God active in their words. Nowadays it seems like the issue in the church that most people are drawing lines around is homosexuality. Regardless of the issue, the reality is that we in the church are really good at drawing lines.

I'm reminded of something that Duane Priebe, my favorite professor at Wartburg Seminary, said that has stayed with me ever since: "every time you draw a line between who's in and who's out, you'll find Jesus on the other side." Every time we make some sort of a distinction between one group of people and another, between who we think is “on the Lord’s side” we are creating a stumbling block that others, but primarily ourselves, can be tripped by; because, let’s face it, if Jesus is on the other side and we want to be with Jesus, we are the ones who are going to be tripped rather than those who are with Jesus.

The word we translate as stumbling block is skandalon, the root of the word scandal, and that’s actually closer to how the passage should be heard and understood. So much of the time when I hear about a scandal, it’s really just some little thing that has been blown way out of proportion. Oh my goodness, the princess was caught sunbathing without a top on, and someone took some pictures from a thousand feet away – the scandal! The starlet was caught buying coffee in sweatpants and in unstyled hair – the scandal! Did you hear, the presidential candidate only paid 14% taxes – the scandal! We run into “scandals” so often we’ve forgotten that a scandal is something that stops you cold, makes you turn around, puts you in a different direction.

Don’t put scandals in front of those who are doing my will, in my name – even if they aren’t “in.” Don’t say or do something that will make them stop and turn around. Whoever isn’t against us, is for us. Or perhaps, whoever isn’t against us is one of us.

In our gospel this morning the disciples were fully empowered by their closeness to Jesus, by what they saw as their calling. They felt they had the answers, they had the unique perspectives, they had the special connection with God. Anyone else doing the things they did were stepping on their toes. All of which makes me wonder: is our zeal for the gospel – or perhaps, more honestly, our fear of those who are different from us – placing a stumbling block before persons that makes it harder for them to see and feel the love of God in Christ? Jesus has some pretty hard words about when the very things we hold dear and believe lead to abundant life become instead obstacles to "the little ones,": it leads to a death of unquenchable fire.

If we really want to talk about scandal, then let’s talk about the scandal that Paul saw; the scandal of the cross. The scandal of the cross helps us understand how God works to accomplish his redemptive purposes in the world. As God declares through the prophet, Isaiah, “My thoughts are completely different from yours…And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine” (Isaiah 55:8).

The cross reveals that God’s upside down kingdom is often downright offensive to us. God uses that which the world considers despicable and weak to manifest his power. What does that say about our desiring strength as the world counts strength; or our attempts to downplay or soften the offense of the cross?

The scandal of the cross reveals who God takes sides with. By allowing himself to be “counted among those who were sinners” (Isaiah 53:12), crucified between two despicable criminals, God casts his lot with the poor, the powerless, the wretched, the oppressed, the shunned, the dispossessed of the earth. Liberation theologians speak of God’s “preferential option for the poor.” What is seen throughout scripture–God’s concern for the helpless, the outcast, the widow, the orphan, the fatherless and the oppressed–is impossible to miss when the Son of God hangs on a cross between two thieves.

What would happen if we today, following in the footsteps of Jesus, submitted to the implications of the scandal of the cross, regardless of what it means in our day and time? What would happen if, in following in the footsteps of our Lord Jesus, we would recover, both in our understanding and practice, the scandal of stumbling blocks? What are the stumbling blocks that we have had placed in our path? What are the stumbling blocks we have placed in the path of others? What are the lines you have drawn? Is it possible to erase those lines, to remove those stumbling blocks? Can we, as Jesus said, be at peace with one another?

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Fruit Trees

Today, I'm going to remain with the same text from yesterday, but with a different perspective.

This is a wonderful passage that speaks to the diversity present among those that are part of God's family.  Sometimes there is a tendency in the church to lump all people of faith together, to try and make them all the same.  Have you ever been to a church where there seemed to be an unofficial dress code?  What about an unofficial requirement of income?  All too often, the folks that gather together to worship and praise God together all look and act remarkably the same.  Which makes those places more than a little uncomfortable for a visitor or searcher who wanders in and looks, acts, or comes from a different place than the "norm."

I love how this passage declares that the righteous grow like a palm tree or a cedar.  These are not the same.  They are different.  There is few things of similarity other than they are trees.  Yet, they are both used to describe the righteous.  Do we need to look and act the same to be righteous?

What I think is even more interesting is how the Psalmist declares that the righteous bear fruit.  Last I checked a cedar tree doesn't bear fruit, at least not in the way we might normally think of fruit.  And perhaps that's the lesson that we need to learn today.

God doesn't have one vision or desire for what the "righteous" should look like.  They are just to grow.  Perhaps they grow tall and strong, perhaps shorter and fuller.  Perhaps they are quiet and solid in their faith, perhaps they are loud and boisterous, perhaps their faith is private.  Regardless, they are growing.  And the fruit is being produced, each in his own way.  The fruit from the palm tree and cedar are very different from the fruit of the apple or peach tree.  Each tree bears it's own fruit according to its tree.  An apple tree cannot produce peaches no matter how hard it tries to make itself.

In the church maybe we need to focus less on trying to get us all to be the same; to have the same views and theologies, the same "faith", producing the same fruit, and instead celebrate the many ways that God grows us, and the many ways that we produce fruit for the glory of God.


Tuesday, June 12, 2012

God has no unrighteousness

Psalm 92:1-4,12-15

It is good to give thanks to God,   to sing praises to your name, O Most High;
to declare your steadfast love in the morning,   and your faithfulness by night,
to the music of the lute and the harp,   to the melody of the lyre.
For you, O God, have made me glad by your work;   at the works of your hands I sing for joy.
The righteous flourish like the palm tree,   and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
They are planted in the house of God;   they flourish in the courts of our God.
In old age they still produce fruit;    they are always green and full of sap,showing that God is upright; 
God is my rock, and has no unrighteousness.




Righteousness in scripture is very closely related to justice.  In many places they are interchangeable - the one who is just is righteous, and the one who is righteous is just.  Does this passage change at all when you replace the word righteous with just or justice?  "Those who are just (concerned and focused on justice) flourish like the palm tree, and grow like a cedar in Lebanon...they flourish in the courts of our God."  In God there is no injustice.

In our culture, when we think of justice we tend to think of the court system.  The pervasiveness of crime and law dramas on television have caused us to form our vocabulary and understandings in that realm.  But, there is more to justice than determining between right and wrong, making sure that those who are "wrong" receive their due punishment, that justice is delivered.  Justice is also about making sure that all are given the respect they deserve.  In the court of law, the ideal is that the rich defendant and the impoverished plaintiff both get equal treatment.  That's the ideal, how well that actually works out is another conversation.

In God, they get equal treatment.  In God's eyes there is nothing to make one person receive better treatment or respect, or whatever, than anyone else - except justice.  How you think of and treat those around you.  God's grace extends to all in equal measure.  God's love is available to all.

Is your love extended to all?  Are justice and equality an important part of your life and faith?  Is there any injustice in you?  Are you flourishing in the courts of our God?  Are you loving (and seeking the justice for) your neighbor in the same ways (and with as much energy)as you are fighting for your own justice?

I know I can do better.  Thanks be to God that our God is not only full of love, but also patience and grace.  Each day is a new one, and in each day may we seek to live our lives in the ways of God, seeking to follow in the steps and ways of Jesus.  May the Reign of God, the reign of justice and peace, the reign of love and servanthood, be not only our place of residence but the focus of our life and actions.  

Monday, June 4, 2012

Trinity Sunday


John 3:1-17

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God." Jesus answered him, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above." Nicodemus said to him, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?" Jesus answered, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, 'You must be born from above.' The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit." Nicodemus said to him, "How can these things be?" Jesus answered him, "Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."

            When I was in Seminary, one of the most interesting and animated discussions we had in our Systematic Theology class involved the nature of God being Triune.  It became obvious very quickly that we all came at it in different ways.  Some people simply shrugged their shoulders, said they would never be able to understand it.  Others, went through mental gymnastics seeking to put forth one metaphor after another seeking to explain it.  Still others, it seemed, discounted the idea of the Trinity completely.  Our understanding of God being Triune in nature is without question one of the most difficult to understand and mysterious aspects of our faith.  How is it that something can be three fully formed, unique persons, separate and distinct from each other, yet at the same time be one that is not divided in any way?  No matter the mental gymnastics we perform, the metaphors and analogies we make, it’s likely that we will never truly understand it.  And that’s okay.  Our individual understanding of specific doctrines and theologies of the church is secondary to our recognition of Jesus as our Lord and Savior.  I’m one of those, who though I love to try and come up with ways of understanding this confusing nature of God, accept and embrace the mystery; exclaiming with wonder and surprise at each new insight I receive into who God is.  Faith, knowledge and mystery are in their own Trinitarian relationship when it comes to who we are as the people of God.
            In this morning’s Gospel text we heard what may be the most widely known verse in the Bible, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”  It’s a verse that all have us probably memorized in Sunday School.  It’s a verse we see displayed on banners at athletic events.  It’s a verse that we see on billboards and bumper stickers.  We all know it; we see it all the time.  So, it’s no surprise that when we hear or read this passage we focus on that verse about how much God loves us.  .It’s comforting to hear it, and so we focus on it.  That’s natural.  But, there is so much more happening in today’s lesson than verse sixteen.
            Here in the Midwest, many of us have experienced the power of the wind.  We have all seen the damage that can come from tornadoes and strong storms.  We also have felt the comfort and calm of a gentle breeze on a steamy hot summer day.  We know how just a gentle breeze can take the temperature down, and bring a sense of calm.  In recent years anyone who has driven the roads of north-central Iowa has seen the large windmills that are now being used to produce electricity.  For a long time, similar windmills were used to bring water up from far underground.  The long voyages of our early explorers across the seas would have been impossible but for wind.  Anyone who lives in an older home knows the occasional frustration of having a “leaky house”, where windows and tiny gaps allow the wind to make entry.    The first verses of the Bible speak to the spirit of God moving across the face of the deep.  We remember stories in the Bible of the voice of God being heard in the wind.  When the Spirit came on Pentecost, it did so with the sound of a rushing wind.  The wind has ever been seen and understood as one of the ways in which God’s presence is felt by us.
            Just as in a “leaky house” it often seems as if the wind seeks out those gaps, going every-which-way looking for an entry point, so too does the Spirit of God seek to make entry into the lives of humanity, into your life and mine.  “The wind blows where it chooses,” is a powerful image of how God is ever seeking us out, ever seeking ways to be in relationship with us.  God chooses to turn toward us, chooses to be in relationship with us, chooses to reveal Himself to us in that search.  It is the nature of God to be in relationship.  On this Sunday, on Trinity Sunday we embrace the reality that God is in relationship within himself.  “God the Father is with the Son who is with the Spirit who is with the Father, self-communicating, self-giving, self-receiving.”[i]  When we think of God, we must do so in terms of relationship, and do so recognizing that that relationship always finds its starting point with God.  God is the one who moves first, who takes the initiative and reaches out to us, to pursue us, to come to us.
            God comes to us, seeking us, pursuing us, desiring for us to be in relationship with him.  God’s seeking doesn’t depend on our situation, our individual or communal worthiness, our understanding of theology or doctrine.  God seeks because that’s who God is, and what God is about.  God wants, desires, for all creation to be in communion with God and with one another, and God seeks, pursues and comes to us to make that happen.  Jesus was not sent by God with a message of condemnation and judgment, but in order that the world might be saved; the world that God created, the world that God loved.  It was God’s love that brought salvation and life through the lifting up of Jesus on the cross.  In faith we are recipients of God’s love and grace.
            It is in faith that we receive God’s salvation.  Faith is not about having to believe in a certain way, about having to have the correct theological understanding, the correct doctrine; it’s about turning to God trusting that God will deliver.  During the years following the Exodus, the Israelites were beset by poisonous snakes because they had turned against God, and questioned God’s ways.  God provided a way of life.  Moses lifted up a golden snake on a pole, and all that looked to it when they had been bitten by a poisonous serpent lived.  In faith they looked to the pole, in faith they claimed the promise that they would live, and they lived.  They didn’t have to know how it worked, why it worked.  They didn’t have to look to the pole with a specific doctrine, a specific theology.  They didn’t have to go first to the priests, go to temple, be accepted into community.  They looked to the pole, claimed the promise of God, and were saved.
            We also look up in faith.  We look to the cross and are saved.  We look to the cross, claim the promise of God that we will have life, and are saved.  God’s desire and intention is never to condemn, but to save, to bring a fullness, a wholeness, a completion to life itself.  God’s love is ever reaching out, ever spreading, ever pursuing.  God’s love is ever inviting and is ever hoping for a response, a movement on our part to complete the circle to complete the action.  Just as the Israelites needed to look to the pole to be saved, we need to look to the cross to be saved.  Just as Isaiah had to respond to the call of God, we too need to respond, “Here I am Lord.” Amen.
           


[i][i] P. 47; Feasting on the Word; Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary; Year B, Volume 3; Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Kentucky, 2009

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Just some thoughts


In recent days and weeks among a variety of settings I have been witness to a great amount of discussion that was of a theological nature (I know big surprise!).  Much of that discussion seemed to revolve around having a correct position or understanding of one issue or another.  Was the position taken “theologically correct?”  Following from that assumption, assertions and defense were made as to the state of a person’s eternity because of said position.  In other words, based on a position you held on a specific belief, you were deemed to be either in accord or contrary to scripture, and from that whether or not your eternal soul was in danger.  I’ve sought to stay out of much of the discussions and arguments.  For many of us, our theological positions are very personal, and we get very emotionally involved when we either find our positions to be challenged or when we believe we find fault in others.  I really don’t want to get involved in these discussions, as I too have become emotionally involved when simply reading and hearing what others say, but I feel like I need to say something.

One of the realities of modern Christianity is that we are made up of a great number of denominations.  Each of those denominations have confessions and understandings that are uniquely theirs.  Many denominations claim to have a corner on the truth when it comes to how they understand the sacraments, or predestination, or scripture, etc.  If that is followed to its end, that claim says that their version of Christianity is the only “true” understanding, and that all other claims to the contrary are false.  If that is to be understood as true, how are we to know what is “truly Christian?”  There are many different perspectives and opinions in modern Christianity, and many of them are contrary to positions held by others in the Christian tradition.  Are women allowed to be pastors?  Can pastors be married?  Is the Bible the literal word of God?  Is drinking alcohol or smoking a sin?  Is baptism of infants a useless?  Each of these positions are either enthusiastically embraced or denied by members of the Christian tradition, who each feel that they are correct in their position.

Thus, it seems difficult if not impossible to truly know what is right.  So, does that mean we are supposed to just throw our arms up in the air and give up?  Of course not.  But, we must also always be careful when we make statements that are universal in their claim to truth or correctness.  I’m a person who tends to be very theological, I like to think deep thoughts about why we believe the things we do, why we hold as truth certain things and not others.  But, I’m also very aware that I must always remember that I cannot truly know anything about God, all I can do is believe.  I know that when I drop a rock, it will fall.  But I do not, I can not, know what God feels about a certain issue; I can believe based on scripture and tradition that God feels a certain way, but I cannot know.  For who can truly know the mind of God? (1 Cor. 2;11)

As people, and as denominations we have marked out specific territories and positions, and will often go to extremes to defend them.  We are very concerned that we have the correct theology; that we are not thinking about God in a wrong way.   We often feel that our very soul is dependent on having a correct theological understanding.  Perhaps it is, perhaps not.

Matthew 25:31-46 has some very important words to speak, and I think we would all do well to listen (myself included.)  According to Jesus himself, in the final judgment will we be judged based on how we understand the sacraments or the trinity or soteriology?  Jesus declares that we will be judged not on our theological understandings or positions, but on the way in which we have served those in need.  Serving them not to get something out of it (like salvation), but simply because they are in need.  If you notice, the list doesn’t include helping those who had “wrong beliefs”.  I challenge you to find the word faith or belief anywhere in that passage.

Are our personal and denominational theologies and understandings as important to God as how we treat and care for one another?  Is it possible that perhaps we all don’t need to believe the same things about God?  Is it possible that perhaps what is one persons “sin” is not for another (Romans 14)?  Perhaps God’s desire isn’t that we all agree on what is right or wrong, on a specific Biblical interpretation, on a certain theological understanding.  Perhaps God is more concerned with how we live in community with one another.  Not seeking to prove ourselves right and another wrong, not seeking to show how we are theologically correct, or how we will be saved in the end and someone else won’t.  Perhaps, just perhaps, God could care less what we believe if our actions are done in love and servanthood to those around us.

What saves you?  Your belief about God or God?  When it comes down to the final judgment, when you are kneeling before the throne of God, do you really want to be judged on whether you held the right position on some theological issue, or whether or not you sought to live your life as best you can following the path that was laid out for us by our Savior.  Who though he was the very Son of God, God himself incarnate among us, did not think of himself as better, but took the role of a servant, and served humanity without limit – even to the point of death (Philippians 2:5-11).