Sunday, August 25, 2013

The Now and Future Kingdom

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 16 - C
August 25, 2013
Luke 13:10-17

Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day." But the Lord answered him and said, "You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?" When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.

I had the misfortune to have a really bad bicycle accident about 10 years ago, I found myself in tremendous pain, unable to tie my own shoes, unable to move any faster than a slow walk – and I was like that for 9 months.  I couldn’t bend forward beyond a few inches, I had a bulging disc that compressed my sciatic nerve.  I went for months walking around gingerly, being concerned about the easiest of movements.  There were days when I could barely move myself to get out of bed.  Then I found healing at the hands of a Physical Therapist.  I know the wonder and relief I felt when I could once again touch my toes.  I know the wonder I felt when I could take a few tentative running steps without almost passing out from the pain.  I know what it was like to be trapped by a body that wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, and then be back to normal.

I can only imagine the frustration and life that the woman in our text must have felt after being crippled by her body for eighteen years.  During the short time that I was hurt, I found there were numerous things I couldn’t do.  When I was in a hurry, I couldn’t speed up.  I had to be careful about almost any movement; fast motions were out of the question.  Sneezing was one of the most painful things that could happen.  I found I looked at the world differently.  Rather than looking at something on the floor, and saying to myself that I needed to pick it up and clean; I looked at the item thinking instead of how I would be able to pick it up with the least amount of pain.  When I was out with friends, rather than being able to enjoy myself I was always thinking ahead, worrying about what we were going to do; if I was going to be able to join in.  My life was different, and my perspective changed.

Perspectives are important.  I remember in my fourth grade art class with Mr. Pugh how he spent a long time talking about perspective.  I remember drawing lines that extended into the horizon.  I remember how he showed us two pictures of the same thing, one drawn with perspective and one without.  One of the cool things about perspective is how talented artists can use the way we perceive perspective to create amazing optical illusions.  One of my favorite artists is MC Escher.  He was a Dutch artist who used perspective and the way the eyes sees and interprets things to create amazing visual pieces.  I’m sure you’ve seen some of his pieces: like the drawing of a hand drawing a hand which is in turn drawing the hand that is drawing it.  Or, probably his most famous drawings of impossible staircases that extend in different directions, in impossible ways, yet when looked at seem to follow rules.  Optical illusions created by using perspective.  Magicians and artists depend on perspective in their work; and it can be amazing what we are sometimes unable to see, or convinced we are seeing because of our perspective.

I recently attended my niece’s wedding.  It was held in a Catholic church, which meant that when the Eucharist (the Lord’s Supper) was celebrated, a whole bunch of us that were present had to just sit there while the Catholics present took part.  We were excluded by nature of the fact that we were not Catholic, and had a different understanding of the Sacrament.  At a wedding when extended families come together to celebrate the union of their children: would that not be the best place to celebrate the union of the diverse families of God in a common meal around the Lord’s Table?  Yet, our differing rules of religion kept half of those present from being fully included.  (Even though we were expected to be at the wedding, bring cards and gifts, dress up and smile even as we were excluded.)  I’m sure from the perspective of the Catholics it was a holy moment, but from the perspective of others it was a moment of exclusion and separation in the midst of joy and celebration.

The woman was bent over, and unable to see what was around her clearly.  The leader of the synagogue was also unable to see certain things.  They were both limited by their perspectives.  How often are we also blind?  We see our own path much more easily than others – and when we do see them we see only the dust of their feet, rarely the fullness of their life.  We are often comfortable this way (like the woman who seems to have accepted her condition – she didn’t ask to be healed).  Yet, in Jesus we are healed and called to look up and see life in all its facets – both good and bad.  If we keep our eyes down we will never see the reality of the lives of those around us.

I’ve mentioned before how when I was younger I would often escape into books filled with stories of fantasy and science fiction.  I would immerse myself in created worlds of magic, of dragons, of beautiful women and manly men.  Creating worlds that are different than the world we live in is natural.  All of us have things about the place where we live that we wish were somehow different.  That desire for a better place is one of the reasons why the Christian faith is so attractive to many, because we have the promise from God of the Kingdom to come.  We have the promise of God of a place in heaven that has been prepared for all of us.  We look for the coming of the Kingdom, of the Reign of God, with hopeful expectation.

But is the Kingdom of God something that is still far off?  Or is it something that is coming about now?  This weekend marks the fiftieth anniversary of the March on Washington on August 28, 1963.  This march was a dream put forward by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and many others to speak about a dream they had of a new reality, a new kingdom of racial equality in the United States.  Dr. King and many others believed that the dream of racial equality was something not just to look forward to happening some day in the future, but something to be worked for each and every day.  Dr. King, as a minister knew well the promises of God for the coming Kingdom with all its blessing and promise; but he also took seriously the idea that the Kingdom of God was something that was also here and now, and something we were called to play a part in putting into action.

In our text, the crowd exclaims in wonder about the things Jesus was doing, the statements Jesus was making.  It’s important to note that the word we translate as ‘doing’ in most texts, is not the same word in Greek that we normally translate as doing.  The word in this text has without question the idea of doing, but it goes much deeper.  It is the word used in the Greek Old Testament in reference to the ‘doing’ God did in creation.  This isn’t just doing, this is creating a new reality; this is making something new; this is bringing about the Kingdom of God right then and there.

On that Sabbath day long ago, Jesus cured a woman who was bent over, whose life had been marked by pain and discomfort for eighteen long years.  He reached out and touched her, transforming her life.  In so doing he opened the eyes of many of those present.  He showed the power of God to transform the life of those in bondage.  Bondage is something that all of us can relate to.  We may use different words for it, we may not even thing about it as being in bondage, but we are all in bondage in one way or another.

We may be in bondage because of physical limitations.  Perhaps our body is not working quite as well as it did when we were younger.  Maybe we are fighting against a disease that will never leave our body.  Maybe we are burdened by the trauma a disease or a treatment has left on our body.  Maybe we feel trapped and in bondage by our situation in life, feel that we are unable to find a way to move forward, find the career we want or need.  Maybe we are in bondage to family obligations that keep us from being able to move forward.  Maybe we are in bondage to expectations other people have for us, that keep us from being what we might otherwise want to be.  Maybe we are in bondage to an addiction or a need that we focus so much time on that we lose our appreciation for other things in life.  Maybe we are in bondage to feelings of fear or anxiety, doubt and depression. 

On that Sabbath day long ago, Jesus set the woman free from the bondage of being bent over.  He reached out his hand (against the advice and desire of the religious people of that day) and created a new reality in the life of that woman, and she praised God.  We have all been given a glimpse of the kingdom to come, we have all been given an idea of what the reign of God looks like – the freeing from bondage that weighs us down, bends us over and keeps us from being able to stand straight.  We know what that world looks like.  But is it just a fantasy world, something better left to some point in the future.  As the leader of the synagogue said, “come back some other time for healing- now isn’t a good time.”

So, when is a good time?  Is there a better time to be set free from bondage?  Which world would you rather live in: the world of the leader of the synagogue who says we need to wait until the time is right, until we are ready, or Jesus’ world where the pain and bondage of those we encounter is addressed, a world where through the touch of God people are set free?

We may not have the miraculous ability to heal that Jesus had, but we can still work to do our part.  We can still reach out to those who are hurting or in pain.  We can still speak out against those who use their positions of power for their own gain and to keep others in positions of scarcity and weakness.  We can still say the church is a place where all people may find a welcome: rich and poor, black and white, married and single, old and young, liberal and conservative, republican and democrat, gay and straight, able and disabled.  We can still say that in the welcoming arms of God we find our place and our peace.  We can work to bring about the Kingdom of God here and now.


Which world would you rather live in, which church would you rather be a part of: one where bondage and oppression are seen but pushed aside to be dealt with on another day, or one where we do all we can to correct that which is burdening people, keeping them from standing up straight and giving praise to God?  May God guide us as we seek to make the Kingdom a reality here and now.  Amen.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Fire in the Kingdom

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 15 – Year C
August 18, 2013
Luke 12:49-56

[Jesus said:] "I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on, five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided:
   father against son
     and son against father,
   mother against daughter
     and daughter against mother,
   mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law
     and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law."

He also said to the crowds, "When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, 'It is going to rain'; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, 'There will be scorching heat'; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?"

One of the central elements of our faith, of our very worship service is peace.  We declare Jesus as the Prince of Peace.  When Jesus appeared to his disciples, his first words were peace.  If we look to the first few verses of almost every single letter from Paul we see peace being extended to his readers.  Every Sunday we take the time to share the peace of Christ with one another.  We talk about the peace of God that passes all understanding.  We take comfort in the peace that comes from having a personal connection with our God and our Savior.  Peace is part of our identity; and just when we think we have a pretty good idea about the importance of peace in our lives, we run into this passage from Luke where Jesus himself tells his disciples that he didn’t come to bring peace.

There have been many different ways in which people have sought to understand this passage.  Probably the most popular is that the expectations that God places on you when you come to faith in him put a strain on the existing relationships between the believer and the non-believer.  This interpretation that a barrier of some kind is erected between Christians and non-Christians is common.  I’ve heard it referred to many times: from casual friendships, to close connections, from work colleagues to our spouses.  Yet, so often it seems like the divisions that are created by our Christian faith are between different persons of faith, different traditions, different denominations than between the believer and the non-believer.

When I think back, when I look at my life I see more times when my strongly held perspective on faith and theology put a greater strain on my relationship with other people of faith than my relationship with those who didn’t express faith of any kind.  Think about it, how many super strong arguments have you gotten into with an atheist?  How many heated discussions have you gotten into with another Christian?  I think you’ll agree with me that the number of divisive situations is far greater on the believers side of the page.

Divisions in families within Christianity are probably more common than you think.  Think about your own families.  Are you able to talk about your church and your faith around the Thanksgiving dinner table without things getting really uncomfortable?   I don’t know about you, but my holiday dinners are sometimes rather tense.  My family is divided by denominational and social issues.  My parents and my brother are Lutheran to their core.  My parents are conservative Lutherans.  I sometimes joke that my father is more Lutheran than Luther himself.  My leaving of the Lutheran Church will probably always be a very sore subject for my parents.   We disagree on many things, some of them seem petty at times, and others seem much more serious. 

We all know that from one generation to another there are differences.  I don’t do things the same way my parents did, and I’m sure my children will do things differently than me.  We don’t think about things in the same way, we approach problems and issues in different ways.  We have different ideas about how the world works, or should work.  And that’s okay.  There is nothing wrong with differences.  If it wasn’t for differences of opinion, for differences of understanding we would have never moved forward as a society.  I’m sure that the first person who decided to jump on a horse was considered an idiot (especially since the horse probably threw him right off), yet that person’s difference of opinion regarding horses was the beginning of a change in the way we traveled as humans.  The generation that preceded him thought about horses in a different way, and I’m sure there were some rather heated discussion around the campfire.  And speaking of campfires, think about the first person to look at fire and think about harnessing it.  Without fire where would we be?

And it is fire that Jesus brings to the earth.  I wish Jesus had explained a bit more about the fire he was bringing because fire by itself is multifunctional – but perhaps Jesus’ fire is also to be used in different ways.  Fire by itself is neutral, neither something to be feared or something to be praised.  Yet, in context, when it is given purpose it also takes on positive or negative connotations.  If you were camping, having a small campfire outside your tent would be desired for its warmth, for how you could use it to warm yourself.  Yet, if you were camping, and the woods around you were on fire that would not be a desired thing.  Fire can be destructive, its power to destroy is virtually unmatched.  The hotter the fire, the more complete the destruction.

Fire can also bring new life with its passing.  Civilizations around the world have used controlled burning to clear fields, to renew the ground that new growth would occur.  From time to time the land would be burned, and in so doing nutrients and chemicals would enter the soil, the earth would be cleansed, and new life would emerge.  The phoenix rises from its ashes reborn.

Before the days of alcohol and sanitizing aids, people would clean their surgical instruments in flame.  I still remember how my mother would sterilize the needle in the flame of a candle before working the splinter out of my finger.  The flame killed the bacteria that could have otherwise lead to infection.  People have cauterized wounds for centuries because of how the heat of fire aided the body in healing.

When I worked in the jewelry industry we used fire and flame constantly.  Fire is used to refine.  Its heat melts the gold, freeing the contaminants from it, burning off the chaff so to speak, and leaving behind that which is more pure, and more valuable.  Fire is needed to melt the gold so that it might be formed and reformed into its desired shape and form.

In the Bible, we also see fire serving in many ways.  It was used to represent “the presence of God -- think pillar fire in Exodus (13:17-22) and the tongues of flame at Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4). It can also represent eschatological judgment -- in Revelation, Satan and his army are consumed by fire (20:7-10). Fire also represents purification -- Zachariah (13:9) and Malachi (3:2-3) each refer to God's intention to purify Israel like a refiner purifies silver by fire.[1]
               

In the New Testament, there is another activity that is described as bringing with it both purification and judgment: baptism.  Baptism is connected to fire in the New Testament, and in our lives.  We speak of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and the coming of the Holy Spirit coming like a fire.  The coming of the Spirit, and the waters of baptism, both point to an event when God is seen to be powerfully active in the life of a person.  The fire of faith comes and consumes and gives us the power to do things that we didn’t think we could ever do.  It also forces us to look at our lives, and the lives of those around us – and it might very well cause divisions.

The divisions that Jesus speaks of are the result of the purifying fire of God.  Jesus comes and declares that he is not here to bring peace, but division.  Yet, his message was not one of division, it was announcing the Kingdom of God.  The Kingdom of God, the Reign of God, the new reality, the desires of God that Jesus announced was based on forgiveness of others and not on the power of one over another, it was based in courage and not in fear,  it was based on humility and not on personal power.  It was a new reality.  Yet, those who were comfortable I the old reality, those that were in ruling positions, those who were fans of wealth, of power, they saw the risk of the coming Kingdom and fought against it – because its coming spells an end to the life they love.  Jesus did indeed announce peace, but as we all know, there is no profit in peace for those in power.  And profit (or the lack of it) creates division even in the most basic of human relationships: that of the family.

The calling of the new life in the Kingdom is both its promise and its challenge.  It can be bring both peace and unease, unity and division.  It can be frightening to step out in faith against the ways of the world, against the powers that be that desire the world to continue as it is.  But our fear, our discomfort can made less when we look to Jesus and we see that he who come to announce the Kingdom was its first victim.  He experienced harm, that in his pain we might know healing.  He experienced judgment, that in his trials we might know pardon.  He suffered death on the cross, that in his dying we might know life.  The call of the Kingdom is not easy, yet looking to Jesus we can discover the courage, the fire, to live in the Kingdom – even with the division it brings.  In so doing we join ourselves with the church, and with people of faith throughout time, and rise from the ashes of the world that is into the glory of the Kingdom to come.  Amen.