Year A - Advent 4
Readings: Isaiah 7:10-17 Romans 1:1-7 Matthew 1:18-25 Psalm 24 or 24:1-7
Today's gospel reading, from Matthew, talks about the birth of Jesus - from the perspective of Joseph.
Joseph is the lesser known of the 'Mary and Joseph' pair. We don't hear as much about him, usually, but today, I'm going to focus on Joseph and his role in this story of Jesus' birth - and Jesus' life - and what kind of model that can give us as we prepare for Christmas.
So who is Joseph?
In a nativity scene, Joseph is the guy standing next to Mary and the baby Jesus. How do you know it's Joseph? Well, because he's standing next to Mary and the baby Jesus.
But how do you know if the figures are not already set up?
When you take the figures out of the box, you can find Joseph by a process of elimination:
This is Mary, obviously. Here's Jesus, obviously. This one's carrying a lamb; he must be one of the shepherds. This is a king; he's wearing fancy clothes, and he's got a gift. This one's got wings, obviously an angel. Okay, that leaves - this guy - must be Joseph.
He's not carrying a lamb or leading a camel or bringing gifts. He's not singing. Usually, he's just standing there. So why does he get to be right in the middle of the scene - in the middle of the biggest event in history?
It would look like Mary and Joseph, with the baby, are mom and dad, so if that was the case, that's why he's important. But as the angel in today's reading explained, the child conceived in Mary was "from the Holy Spirit," so God is Jesus' "real" father.
Joseph married Jesus' mother, so in a sense, Joseph was Jesus' step-dad.
Probably that wasn't something they tried to explain to the neighbors, though.
"Joseph, your son broke my window!" "Well, actually, he's not my son..."
What else do we know about Joseph? How can we imagine what he was like as a person?
Well, he was a carpenter. So, I suppose if he lived in Silsbee, he might work for Westvaco - or at the pallet factory - or maybe he'd have his own cabinet shop behind his house.
If he was a member here at St. John's, he'd probably get drafted into being the Junior Warden at least once. The first time I came to St. John's, I pulled into the back parking lot, looking for the door to come in at, and there were three guys standing outside looking up at the roof. I'm pretty sure one of them was Bill Phillips, and Lloyd Boone may have been out there, too. I don't know what they were doing exactly – I guess they were fixing something - but probably Joseph would have been in that group.
I also bet he'd have been one of those folks helping people fix their houses after Rita. He and Vernon Gray would talk shop. Probably he'd have a long honey-do list, so he and John Derkits could commiserate about that, and Mary would probably complain to Bonnie that Joseph still hadn't fixed the back door to shut all the way, and Bonnie would nod sympathetically.
Anyway, that's how I imagine it. But it's a fair enough guess, because this is a real man we're talking about, and why would he be that much different from any of the men here?
Joseph was a regular person. He did normal things, dealt with normal problems with job, house, kids - except that his oldest was the son of God... Imagine that as a step-dad - even if God did give him the job and presumably backed him up, it can't have been easy raising Jesus.
We hear a few more things about Joseph up to the point when Jesus was about 12, and then the story skips ahead to Jesus at about 30 and then we don't hear any more about Joseph. So, it's possible he died before Jesus started his ministry.Joseph was a central figure in Jesus' young life, and he can be a good model for how we relate to Jesus, just as Mary is a good model.
What do we learn about him from today's reading?
Mainly, we learn two things: he was a good man, and he obeyed God.
We heard first that Joseph was engaged to Mary when he found out she was pregnant.
The next thing said about him is that, "being a righteous man," he didn't want Mary exposed to public disgrace. He was going to treat his fiancée kindly even if she'd done wrong by him.
But then, an angel appears and tells him not to be afraid to marry her - the child is from the Holy Spirit, and he should name the baby Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.
This really is an odd message, delivered in an alarming way. I can't imagine what I would think to receive a message like that. It's hard to see how it would clarify the situation.
Joseph's response, though, when he woke up, was to do what the angel told him. We don't know whether any of this business about the Holy Spirit and God saving his people through this child made sense to Joseph; the text doesn't say what he thought about it - just that he did what God told him to do.
One thing I noticed about the way this passage tells the story is that, in this account, Joseph never says anything. He plans and decides to do something, he listens to the angel, and he does what the angel tells him. But he doesn't talk about it.
That struck me as similar to several men I know. Although quietness isn't confined to men, and there are many men who aren't quiet, there are a lot of guys who operate like this - they think about something and make plans, they may listen to advice, and when they decide what they're going to do, they do it. But there may not be a lot of talking in the process.
Maybe you know one of these guys. Maybe you're sitting next to him.
Maybe the person next to you is digging you in the ribs.
When I got to thinking about Joseph and what he may have been like, in relation to this doing-more-than-talking aspect, I thought of my Uncle Jim - not a big talker, but definitely a good man. He does right by his family, more so than we deserve sometimes, helps people who need help, supports his wife in her activities, and deals honestly with people.
That's how I imagine Joseph. Not much of a talker, necessarily, and not all that complicated, but someone who's honorable. He was kind to Mary, and he was obedient to God.
It's hard to represent that visually, unless you put a halo or something over his head, so that's why in nativity scenes, it looks like Joseph is just standing there, doing nothing special. But there's a lot more to it - he's standing there with Mary and Jesus, claiming them as his, looking out for them and providing for them. He's just a good man - and he's obeying God. That's all. And that puts him front and center in the middle of God's biggest plan for human history.
And good men, obeying God, are always right in the middle of whatever God's doing, wherever they are. It's like that for good men today - you can't tell just by looking at them, but watching how they live, it's obvious and powerful, even though it's not complicated.
Who do you know like this?
Think of these men when you look at Joseph in the nativity scene. Think how their example tells us something about how to make room and provide for Christ in our lives.
How does Joseph provide a pattern for us in preparing for Jesus' coming at Christmas?
Joseph claimed Jesus, worked to make a home for him, providing for him and for the people who nurtured him. Joseph made space for Jesus to grow and protected him while he was vulnerable and weak.
That's what we can do, individually and as a community: acknowledge Christ's place in our households, make space for him, and allow for his role in our lives to grow by providing for things that nurture our communion with Christ. Also, we can protect this process of growth, especially when it's new or weak or in other ways vulnerable.
In one of our Christmas hymns, we sing, 'O holy child of Bethlehem, descend to us we pray. Cast out our sin and enter in; be born in us today.'
But that sounds more like how Mary received him, and maybe you can't relate to the way Mary made space for Jesus. Maybe you're more like Joseph. In that case, here's a verse from a different hymn, with substantially the same meaning but a different image. 'let each heart prepare a home where such a mighty guest may come.'
There's a much more modern country and western song by Emerson Drive called 'A Good Man,' and the chorus goes like this:
I wanna be the one, when all is said and done,
who lived a good life, loved a good wife,
and always helped someone in trouble.
On the day they lay me down, I want everyone to gather ‘round
and say, 'He was a father, brother, neighbor and a friend. He was a good man!'
I was thinking that, if Joseph did die while Jesus was still a teenager or a young man, this would be the kind of thing Jesus might have said about his step-dad, the man who claimed him, made a place for him, and provided for him and his mother... "He lived a good life, loved a good wife, and always helped someone in trouble...he was a father, brother, neighbor and a friend - he was a good man."What more than that would you need?
Would it matter whether he was a pipe-fitter, a police officer, a professor or a priest?
He was a good man, and he obeyed God.
That's an excellent pattern to follow.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Dec. 23, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Joseph was a good man
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Sunday, November 18, 2007
The end of the world
Year C - Pentecost, Proper 28
Readings: Malachi 3:13-4:2a,5-62 Thessalonians 3:6-13 Luke 21:5-19 Psalm 98 or 98:5-10
Lord, thank you that your steadfast love never ends, and your mercy is new every morning. Amen.A main theme of today's lectionary readings is 'the end.'Often, people interpret these and similar passages as giving predictions for ‘The End of the World…’ But is it necessary to destroy the entire world for it to 'count' as the end of something significant?
From a historical perspective, this particular passage is talking about the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, and later, the fall of Jerusalem itself, which took place in 70 AD. This did not constitute global annihilation, but it was enough to be 'the end' for them, and it's that aspect we can apply to today.
This passage isn't a prophecy of hidden clues to predict OUR future; it's a specific story of past devastation and destruction, through which we can learn to recognize the same kinds of endings in the present.
Around the world, there is plenty of upheaval bringing destruction to other communities and peoples. In some parts of Africa, the AIDS epidemic has brought about an end to the family structure of an entire generation by killing off the parents and infecting their children. I think for these kids, it's enough to count as the end of the world.
Genocide and civil war in Chechnya, Darfur, Rwanda and other places has brought an end to social order, destroyed entire communities and devastated people groups. I think it's enough to count as the end of the world to them.
The story after this gospel reading, after the destruction of the temple and the sacking of Jerusalem - the rest of the story after 'the end' - isn't recorded here, but we know that it has included restoration. After exile and dispersion, some of the story has included coming back and rebuilding; even after 'the end', the story continued and continues still. The end was also a beginning because of the people's hope and endurance.
To interpret this story for today, we need to look at lots of endings - not get caught up in the idea of one big final ending and spend energy worrying about it and trying to avoid it. This attitude leads to the situation Paul was addressing in 2 Thessalonians, where, instead of working and contributing to the community's life, some people were just waiting around for 'the day of the Lord.' They got so caught up in worrying about 'the end' that they were completely missing 'now'.
Instead, if we stay engaged in the story, we can recognize endings and work them toward new beginnings. One of the deacons in our diocese, for example, Linda Shelton, is involved in refugee resettlement. Some of these refugees, whose former lives have ended, are in the same situation as the 1st century Jews who were sent into exile.
People trying to begin again are all around us. A recent article in the Texas Episcopalian featured a parishioner from the church in Pflugerville, who fled Sudan to seek asylum here when his life was threatened because of reporting on the tragedies there. My mentor in the Iona school, Fr. Johannes George, fled Sierra Leone and devastation in that country and now serves the church in Alief.
What if this Gospel is not about predicting the end of the world so we can try and save ourselves, but instead is about recognizing and responding to the devastations of people around us - devastations which are smaller than global annihilation but are large enough to be the end of the world to those experiencing them?
This could mean a lot of work - but it makes our Epistle reading fit in very well - "do not be weary in doing what is right."
Who do you know whose world is ending - through divorce or a devastating illness, or the loss of a child? What has ended your world?
Let me tell you my experience of the end of the world. When I was 13, my mom suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm. I remember standing in a hallway during one of her surgeries, looking out an upper floor window of Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas. Traffic was going by on all the streets below, just as if this was any other day - as though the entire world was not falling apart. I was so angry at all of those people! Didn't they have any idea what was happening?!
Of course not, and I see it very differently now. But for several years, I stayed stuck in that ending. I couldn't imagine the world beginning again.
Interestingly, one of the things that enabled me to begin again was facing the same condition myself. In the process of getting it treated, I had to face some fears - including fears of 'the end' - and I discovered that God was with me there, and that true peace exists, and it is extremely solid.
I also realized that, because of a lot of people doing their work faithfully for years and years, my world was not going to end the way I feared. Some of these people may even have been the same ones driving to and from work the day I looked out that hospital window, mad at everyone whose world wasn't ending.
The collective efforts of biomechanical engineers, metallurgists, business people, ethicists, administrators, interventional radiologists, surgeons, nurses, and countless others I will never meet - all their work created a treatment option that hadn't existed before. So, while 50 years ago, my 2 aunts died of this condition, today, I'm fine.
Because of all those people, what could have been my end became a new beginning, and it has influenced my understanding of all kinds of work as service and vocation. It has also influenced my understanding of work as prayer - my prayers for healing, and those of my family and friends - were answered by God through the faithful use of talents given to numerous people, all doing different jobs well and working together.
I hope this encourages you in your work to view all of it as ministry and service to God - who through your faithfulness and obedience will answer the prayers of people you may never meet.
The point of discussing 'the end' is not to try and predict or avoid it, but rather to not become distracted or paralyzed by worrying about it. Our response when 'the end is near' - in any context - is to keep doing what's right - to be faithful and obedient - and to trust God to take care of the world and us.
After all, ‘He's got the whole world in his hands...’Julian of Norwich, writing in the middle ages, said this about a vision she saw concerning God's care for creation:
and e.e. cummings continues...
Readings: Malachi 3:13-4:2a,5-62 Thessalonians 3:6-13 Luke 21:5-19 Psalm 98 or 98:5-10
Lord, thank you that your steadfast love never ends, and your mercy is new every morning. Amen.A main theme of today's lectionary readings is 'the end.'Often, people interpret these and similar passages as giving predictions for ‘The End of the World…’ But is it necessary to destroy the entire world for it to 'count' as the end of something significant?
From a historical perspective, this particular passage is talking about the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, and later, the fall of Jerusalem itself, which took place in 70 AD. This did not constitute global annihilation, but it was enough to be 'the end' for them, and it's that aspect we can apply to today.
This passage isn't a prophecy of hidden clues to predict OUR future; it's a specific story of past devastation and destruction, through which we can learn to recognize the same kinds of endings in the present.
Around the world, there is plenty of upheaval bringing destruction to other communities and peoples. In some parts of Africa, the AIDS epidemic has brought about an end to the family structure of an entire generation by killing off the parents and infecting their children. I think for these kids, it's enough to count as the end of the world.
Genocide and civil war in Chechnya, Darfur, Rwanda and other places has brought an end to social order, destroyed entire communities and devastated people groups. I think it's enough to count as the end of the world to them.
The story after this gospel reading, after the destruction of the temple and the sacking of Jerusalem - the rest of the story after 'the end' - isn't recorded here, but we know that it has included restoration. After exile and dispersion, some of the story has included coming back and rebuilding; even after 'the end', the story continued and continues still. The end was also a beginning because of the people's hope and endurance.
To interpret this story for today, we need to look at lots of endings - not get caught up in the idea of one big final ending and spend energy worrying about it and trying to avoid it. This attitude leads to the situation Paul was addressing in 2 Thessalonians, where, instead of working and contributing to the community's life, some people were just waiting around for 'the day of the Lord.' They got so caught up in worrying about 'the end' that they were completely missing 'now'.
Instead, if we stay engaged in the story, we can recognize endings and work them toward new beginnings. One of the deacons in our diocese, for example, Linda Shelton, is involved in refugee resettlement. Some of these refugees, whose former lives have ended, are in the same situation as the 1st century Jews who were sent into exile.
People trying to begin again are all around us. A recent article in the Texas Episcopalian featured a parishioner from the church in Pflugerville, who fled Sudan to seek asylum here when his life was threatened because of reporting on the tragedies there. My mentor in the Iona school, Fr. Johannes George, fled Sierra Leone and devastation in that country and now serves the church in Alief.
What if this Gospel is not about predicting the end of the world so we can try and save ourselves, but instead is about recognizing and responding to the devastations of people around us - devastations which are smaller than global annihilation but are large enough to be the end of the world to those experiencing them?
This could mean a lot of work - but it makes our Epistle reading fit in very well - "do not be weary in doing what is right."
Who do you know whose world is ending - through divorce or a devastating illness, or the loss of a child? What has ended your world?
Let me tell you my experience of the end of the world. When I was 13, my mom suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm. I remember standing in a hallway during one of her surgeries, looking out an upper floor window of Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas. Traffic was going by on all the streets below, just as if this was any other day - as though the entire world was not falling apart. I was so angry at all of those people! Didn't they have any idea what was happening?!
Of course not, and I see it very differently now. But for several years, I stayed stuck in that ending. I couldn't imagine the world beginning again.
Interestingly, one of the things that enabled me to begin again was facing the same condition myself. In the process of getting it treated, I had to face some fears - including fears of 'the end' - and I discovered that God was with me there, and that true peace exists, and it is extremely solid.
I also realized that, because of a lot of people doing their work faithfully for years and years, my world was not going to end the way I feared. Some of these people may even have been the same ones driving to and from work the day I looked out that hospital window, mad at everyone whose world wasn't ending.
The collective efforts of biomechanical engineers, metallurgists, business people, ethicists, administrators, interventional radiologists, surgeons, nurses, and countless others I will never meet - all their work created a treatment option that hadn't existed before. So, while 50 years ago, my 2 aunts died of this condition, today, I'm fine.
Because of all those people, what could have been my end became a new beginning, and it has influenced my understanding of all kinds of work as service and vocation. It has also influenced my understanding of work as prayer - my prayers for healing, and those of my family and friends - were answered by God through the faithful use of talents given to numerous people, all doing different jobs well and working together.
I hope this encourages you in your work to view all of it as ministry and service to God - who through your faithfulness and obedience will answer the prayers of people you may never meet.
The point of discussing 'the end' is not to try and predict or avoid it, but rather to not become distracted or paralyzed by worrying about it. Our response when 'the end is near' - in any context - is to keep doing what's right - to be faithful and obedient - and to trust God to take care of the world and us.
After all, ‘He's got the whole world in his hands...’Julian of Norwich, writing in the middle ages, said this about a vision she saw concerning God's care for creation:
"And in this he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazel nut , lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed. And it was as round as any ball. I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, 'What may this be?' And it was answered generally thus, 'It is all that is made.' I marveled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nought for littleness. And I was answered in my understanding: It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it. And so have all things their beginning by the love of God.As the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote:
In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it. The second, that he loves it. And the third, that God keeps it. "
And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs -- Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
i thank You God for most this amazingTo this I would add - I thank you, God
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
for the end of the world,
because you make it into a new beginning.
Amen.
Amen.
Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought us in safety to this new day: Preserve us with your mighty power, that we may not fall into temptation, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all we do, direct us to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord. (BCP)
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Sunday, October 21, 2007
About fighting
Year C - Pentecost, Proper 24
Readings: Genesis 32:3-8,22-302 Timothy 3:14-4:5 Luke 18:1-8a Psalm 121
A common theme in today's texts is that of persistence in struggle and difficulty - hanging in there. Fighting and prevailing.
In struggling with the man he believes to be God, Jacob literally hangs on until he receives a blessing. In the epistle, Timothy is urged to "continue in what you have learned and firmly believed" and to "be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable..." And in the gospel, Jesus tells a parable "about the need to pray always and not lose heart." The widow in his story "kept coming" and asking for justice, and eventually the unjust judge decided to grant it "so that she will not wear me out by continually coming."
Another aspect of this theme of struggle and persistence seems to be the presence of opposition. In the Gospel, the widow seeks justice against an unnamed opponent - we don't know the problem there - but then she has a further struggle with the judge, who doesn't really care about justice and so in that sense forms some more opposition.
In the OT reading, the opponent seems to be God. The text just says 'a man,' but Jacob clearly believes afterward that he has seen God and even fought with him, and he's amazed God didn't kill him. Jacob wrestles with the man, and the man dislocates his hip, but Jacob still won't let him go without a blessing, so the man gives Jacob a new name. "You shall no longer be called Jacob but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed." The word translated as 'prevail' doesn't necessarily mean that he conquered his opponent - that he beat God; it can also mean that he showed endurance, strength and courage in the fight. I think that's very important to notice - you don't have to beat your opponent to prevail.
I think struggle and fighting are things most of us can relate to. We fight with people, with circumstances, with God, with ourselves. What does it mean to prevail in these?
When we fight with people, it's just as often, if not more often, that we fight with people we love. In this situation, beating your opponent is not really a good way to 'win.' In a fight with family or friends, this kind of winning isn't very satisfactory.
When we fight circumstances, whether it's a health issue, a job situation, a policy or a law, people usually get drawn into it, too - even if you know what's to blame, it's hard to fight something you can't see or touch.
Sometimes, we fight God, and a similar thing can happen there - think Cain and Abel. But really, if anybody can handle our fight, it's God. Writers of the Psalms often got really angry with God; so did Job, and so did Jonah, and so did countless other people in the Scriptures. God's big enough to take it, and if God's the one you're mad at, God's the one to take it up with. I think it's also true that when you fight with God, you know God better.
Then there's fighting within ourselves: fighting our fears, our demons, and all the gunk we internalize from the problems and dysfunction in our lives. In the book The Imitation of Christ, I ran across this: "Who has a greater struggle than those who labor to overcome themselves?" Anyone who's faced addiction or even observed someone in that struggle can agree this is true.
In all of these struggles, what does it look like to prevail? I think part of the answer relates to peace. Sometimes, just to endure is to prevail - if you've made it this far, regardless of how much damage you've sustained - the fact that you're here is prevailing. Your scars show what you've been through - like Jacob limping as he walked away from wrestling with God. But you've lived to tell about it - you struggled with God and the world and yourself, and you've prevailed.
What if you lose? It depends on what you think losing is. I think to make peace with an opponent is to prevail, even if they win. For example, to face death and make peace with that opponent, whether you then live or die - is to prevail in that struggle - to show courage and endurance. I heard a saying once: 'Courage is fear that has said its prayers.' I like that, and I think it's true.
When I was facing a medical procedure to repair a brain aneurysm a couple of years ago, I also had to face the fear of dying. There came a point, after six months of delays, when all my distractions were gone, and there was no avoiding it anymore.
I wouldn't say I won that battle; I didn't beat the fear. I tried every argument I could think of to reason myself into peace, and I couldn't. Fear is more primal than reason. So finally, I prayed and asked God to give me peace about death, and it came.
It was so simple, I didn't believe it could be true at first and tried to make myself afraid again, but I couldn't. So I prevailed, but it wasn't because I defeated the fear; it was because God fought for me when I couldn't fight anymore.
Another thing about fighting is that it reveals a lot about the character of the contenders. When you fight someone, you know them. This idea was expressed in the sequel to the Matrix, when Neo is summoned to a meeting, and as soon as he walks in the door, the doorkeeper immediately engages him in a ferocious battle. Afterwards, the guy says he had to fight Neo in order to know for sure who he was.
I've started arguments with people before for no apparent reason, I suppose to see how they would respond, to flush them out into the open, I guess, to figure them out. And I've had people do that to me, too - to see how far they could push me before I pushed back.
There's something about competition that brings out things you don't see in casual interaction. People are more raw when they're fighting or competing. If you play any sport, or ever have, you know this. I played soccer from the time I was four until just a few years ago, and now I fence. In either place, I've found I learn a lot about people by facing them in competition. I learn their strength, their speed, their stamina, their habits and their style, how rough or skillful they are, whether they play clean or dirty.
The other side to this is, I learn a lot about myself, too. Some of it's good - some not.
When I played soccer, I learned that I'm persistent and I'm tough, but I'm not always realistic about the laws of physics. I frequently got knocked down trying to challenge people much bigger than me, but I'd get up and keep going. When I played goalkeeper, I wasn't afraid to dive or charge a forward one-on-one.
I also learned, though, that when I played forward, I had a tendency under pressure to sabotage my own plays and then make excuses about why I lost the ball, even though I had enough skill, technically, to keep it. If I had a fullback bearing down on me, for example, sometimes I'd cross the ball early from the wing just to get rid of it. But the center forwards weren't in place yet, so all that work to get the ball up was wasted.
The thing is, probably nobody would blame me. Except that I knew I was doing it. And actually, you can't have that many 'unlucky' breaks without someone seeing a pattern. When I played on my cousin's team, he commented 'Good Lord, I've never seen a more skittish forward!'
He had me sorted. I didn't have myself sorted, though. I didn't know WHY I was doing it. But at that point, I decided I better figure it out and try to fix it.
I think the same concept is true in many types of competition: the quest for grades, the desire to climb a ladder or achieve some status, even political debates.
The reason this is useful - what we see in the microcosm of a game or a debate or an argument, we can work on in that context and in other areas. And more broadly, what we see when fighting under any circumstances, can be an indicator of strengths or weaknesses.
In spite of our desire for peace, we do a fair amount of fighting. I think it's somewhat a part of the way we are as people. Maybe this is why God fights with Jacob and doesn't kill him - because God knows Jacob and knows that's the way he is.
Some people just come out swinging, and Jacob's whole life was like that - Jacob wasn't the ideal man like Abraham - calmly accepting all kinds of difficulties and waiting patiently for their seemingly impossible fulfillment. No, Jacob was going to grab what he could - he was grabbing his brother's heel when he was born - and since that moment was always fighting or scheming with somebody.
One of the most notable examples was when he tricked his brother Esau out of a blessing, and it was after this that he fled his home, afraid of the revenge his brother would taken when he discovered this.
Sometimes, people just kind of have to fight, I think. We wish for peace and harmony and unity with no divisions, but the reality is far from these ideals. In our culture, we don't have a lot of acceptable circumstances for fighting, but I think in some sense, people need to contend with something. Sports are one example, but also things like Survivor and a lot of those reality TV shows, where all kinds of normal activities, like dating, doing a job interview, and designing clothes are turned into competition events. Yesterday, I was watching Iron Chef America - they were having 'Battle Eggplant'...Now you tell me we don't have a need for competition!
The movie Fight Club is a very clear example - these young guys started a club just to fight each other - hand to hand, no gloves, no weapons, and very few rules. The story is somewhat more complicated than this, but essentially, the appeal seemed to be that by fighting, and sustaining injury, they were doing something that felt real - more real than pushing papers in an office. This movie was really popular, which means people respond to it for some reason. I think there's something to notice there.
If you're fighting, especially one-on-one, your goal is clearly defined by beating your opponent. But if you're a small part of a big goal, and especially if you don't know what that goal is, your part can feel pointless. This is somewhat our situation as members of the Church - we're each small parts of a larger body, involved in doing a work that we don't see the end of because it's so much bigger than any of us.
I think part of the implication of the letter to Timothy is - Hang in there. Don't lose sight of the goal you're part of. Know what that goal is. Learn what your part is and do it. And don't let other people's impatience or lack of interest make you forget what you're about.
AND - Fight the good fight.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Oct. 21, 2007
Readings: Genesis 32:3-8,22-302 Timothy 3:14-4:5 Luke 18:1-8a Psalm 121
A common theme in today's texts is that of persistence in struggle and difficulty - hanging in there. Fighting and prevailing.
In struggling with the man he believes to be God, Jacob literally hangs on until he receives a blessing. In the epistle, Timothy is urged to "continue in what you have learned and firmly believed" and to "be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable..." And in the gospel, Jesus tells a parable "about the need to pray always and not lose heart." The widow in his story "kept coming" and asking for justice, and eventually the unjust judge decided to grant it "so that she will not wear me out by continually coming."
Another aspect of this theme of struggle and persistence seems to be the presence of opposition. In the Gospel, the widow seeks justice against an unnamed opponent - we don't know the problem there - but then she has a further struggle with the judge, who doesn't really care about justice and so in that sense forms some more opposition.
In the OT reading, the opponent seems to be God. The text just says 'a man,' but Jacob clearly believes afterward that he has seen God and even fought with him, and he's amazed God didn't kill him. Jacob wrestles with the man, and the man dislocates his hip, but Jacob still won't let him go without a blessing, so the man gives Jacob a new name. "You shall no longer be called Jacob but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed." The word translated as 'prevail' doesn't necessarily mean that he conquered his opponent - that he beat God; it can also mean that he showed endurance, strength and courage in the fight. I think that's very important to notice - you don't have to beat your opponent to prevail.
I think struggle and fighting are things most of us can relate to. We fight with people, with circumstances, with God, with ourselves. What does it mean to prevail in these?
When we fight with people, it's just as often, if not more often, that we fight with people we love. In this situation, beating your opponent is not really a good way to 'win.' In a fight with family or friends, this kind of winning isn't very satisfactory.
When we fight circumstances, whether it's a health issue, a job situation, a policy or a law, people usually get drawn into it, too - even if you know what's to blame, it's hard to fight something you can't see or touch.
Sometimes, we fight God, and a similar thing can happen there - think Cain and Abel. But really, if anybody can handle our fight, it's God. Writers of the Psalms often got really angry with God; so did Job, and so did Jonah, and so did countless other people in the Scriptures. God's big enough to take it, and if God's the one you're mad at, God's the one to take it up with. I think it's also true that when you fight with God, you know God better.
Then there's fighting within ourselves: fighting our fears, our demons, and all the gunk we internalize from the problems and dysfunction in our lives. In the book The Imitation of Christ, I ran across this: "Who has a greater struggle than those who labor to overcome themselves?" Anyone who's faced addiction or even observed someone in that struggle can agree this is true.
In all of these struggles, what does it look like to prevail? I think part of the answer relates to peace. Sometimes, just to endure is to prevail - if you've made it this far, regardless of how much damage you've sustained - the fact that you're here is prevailing. Your scars show what you've been through - like Jacob limping as he walked away from wrestling with God. But you've lived to tell about it - you struggled with God and the world and yourself, and you've prevailed.
What if you lose? It depends on what you think losing is. I think to make peace with an opponent is to prevail, even if they win. For example, to face death and make peace with that opponent, whether you then live or die - is to prevail in that struggle - to show courage and endurance. I heard a saying once: 'Courage is fear that has said its prayers.' I like that, and I think it's true.
When I was facing a medical procedure to repair a brain aneurysm a couple of years ago, I also had to face the fear of dying. There came a point, after six months of delays, when all my distractions were gone, and there was no avoiding it anymore.
I wouldn't say I won that battle; I didn't beat the fear. I tried every argument I could think of to reason myself into peace, and I couldn't. Fear is more primal than reason. So finally, I prayed and asked God to give me peace about death, and it came.
It was so simple, I didn't believe it could be true at first and tried to make myself afraid again, but I couldn't. So I prevailed, but it wasn't because I defeated the fear; it was because God fought for me when I couldn't fight anymore.
Another thing about fighting is that it reveals a lot about the character of the contenders. When you fight someone, you know them. This idea was expressed in the sequel to the Matrix, when Neo is summoned to a meeting, and as soon as he walks in the door, the doorkeeper immediately engages him in a ferocious battle. Afterwards, the guy says he had to fight Neo in order to know for sure who he was.
I've started arguments with people before for no apparent reason, I suppose to see how they would respond, to flush them out into the open, I guess, to figure them out. And I've had people do that to me, too - to see how far they could push me before I pushed back.
There's something about competition that brings out things you don't see in casual interaction. People are more raw when they're fighting or competing. If you play any sport, or ever have, you know this. I played soccer from the time I was four until just a few years ago, and now I fence. In either place, I've found I learn a lot about people by facing them in competition. I learn their strength, their speed, their stamina, their habits and their style, how rough or skillful they are, whether they play clean or dirty.
The other side to this is, I learn a lot about myself, too. Some of it's good - some not.
When I played soccer, I learned that I'm persistent and I'm tough, but I'm not always realistic about the laws of physics. I frequently got knocked down trying to challenge people much bigger than me, but I'd get up and keep going. When I played goalkeeper, I wasn't afraid to dive or charge a forward one-on-one.
I also learned, though, that when I played forward, I had a tendency under pressure to sabotage my own plays and then make excuses about why I lost the ball, even though I had enough skill, technically, to keep it. If I had a fullback bearing down on me, for example, sometimes I'd cross the ball early from the wing just to get rid of it. But the center forwards weren't in place yet, so all that work to get the ball up was wasted.
The thing is, probably nobody would blame me. Except that I knew I was doing it. And actually, you can't have that many 'unlucky' breaks without someone seeing a pattern. When I played on my cousin's team, he commented 'Good Lord, I've never seen a more skittish forward!'
He had me sorted. I didn't have myself sorted, though. I didn't know WHY I was doing it. But at that point, I decided I better figure it out and try to fix it.
I think the same concept is true in many types of competition: the quest for grades, the desire to climb a ladder or achieve some status, even political debates.
The reason this is useful - what we see in the microcosm of a game or a debate or an argument, we can work on in that context and in other areas. And more broadly, what we see when fighting under any circumstances, can be an indicator of strengths or weaknesses.
In spite of our desire for peace, we do a fair amount of fighting. I think it's somewhat a part of the way we are as people. Maybe this is why God fights with Jacob and doesn't kill him - because God knows Jacob and knows that's the way he is.
Some people just come out swinging, and Jacob's whole life was like that - Jacob wasn't the ideal man like Abraham - calmly accepting all kinds of difficulties and waiting patiently for their seemingly impossible fulfillment. No, Jacob was going to grab what he could - he was grabbing his brother's heel when he was born - and since that moment was always fighting or scheming with somebody.
One of the most notable examples was when he tricked his brother Esau out of a blessing, and it was after this that he fled his home, afraid of the revenge his brother would taken when he discovered this.
Sometimes, people just kind of have to fight, I think. We wish for peace and harmony and unity with no divisions, but the reality is far from these ideals. In our culture, we don't have a lot of acceptable circumstances for fighting, but I think in some sense, people need to contend with something. Sports are one example, but also things like Survivor and a lot of those reality TV shows, where all kinds of normal activities, like dating, doing a job interview, and designing clothes are turned into competition events. Yesterday, I was watching Iron Chef America - they were having 'Battle Eggplant'...Now you tell me we don't have a need for competition!
The movie Fight Club is a very clear example - these young guys started a club just to fight each other - hand to hand, no gloves, no weapons, and very few rules. The story is somewhat more complicated than this, but essentially, the appeal seemed to be that by fighting, and sustaining injury, they were doing something that felt real - more real than pushing papers in an office. This movie was really popular, which means people respond to it for some reason. I think there's something to notice there.
If you're fighting, especially one-on-one, your goal is clearly defined by beating your opponent. But if you're a small part of a big goal, and especially if you don't know what that goal is, your part can feel pointless. This is somewhat our situation as members of the Church - we're each small parts of a larger body, involved in doing a work that we don't see the end of because it's so much bigger than any of us.
I think part of the implication of the letter to Timothy is - Hang in there. Don't lose sight of the goal you're part of. Know what that goal is. Learn what your part is and do it. And don't let other people's impatience or lack of interest make you forget what you're about.
AND - Fight the good fight.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Oct. 21, 2007
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Year C
Sunday, September 23, 2007
About cheating
Year C - Pentecost, Proper 20
Readings: Amos 8:4-7(8-12); 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13; Psalm 138
Lord, may we know your word, speak your word, and love your word. Amen.Today’s OT and Gospel readings both talk about cheating.
Basically, if you’re cheating anyone, stop it - especially if you’re cheating poor people or anyone at a disadvantage to you.
The message in Amos is very harsh toward people cheating the poor.
‘Hear this, you who trample the needy… The Lord has sworn… "I will never forget…"’Amos describes some methods people were using in his day to increase their profits by tricking or cheating their customers.
"Skimping the measure, boosting the price, and cheating with dishonest scales…selling even the sweepings with the wheat."Methods are the same today – for example, next time you get gas, notice the sticker on the pump that certifies the pump has been checked to ensure it pumps a gallon of gas for a gallon of gas.
And when I pay $.75 for a bag of chips from the vending machine, and 2/3 of it is air, with 5 chips in the bottom, I feel like someone is skimping the measure.
Now, a popular method of ‘boosting the price’ seems to be tacking on lots of little fees and surcharges for things you didn’t request but didn’t know you had to exclude.
Then there’s the whole area of financing, which invariably ends up making people with less money pay a lot more. Currently, the issue of sub-prime mortgages has been in the news a lot. From what I gather, these are high-risk, high-interest loans made to people who probably really can’t afford to buy a home – and sure enough, most of them couldn’t pay, especially with the high interest. Now, their houses are being foreclosed on, and that whole area of the market has collapsed, sending other sectors of the economy into a tailspin.
Who’s most affected by this? People who can least afford it.
By way of contrast, last year’s Nobel Peace Prize went to an economist who developed a system of micro-lending to help very poor people start businesses. These loans have been so successful that whole sectors of the economies in many developing nations have been strengthened.
It’s not a matter of money – it’s a matter of the lender’s motives.
It’s a matter of justice.
What about credit cards? How are credit cards marketed?
They’re often presented as sources of cash flow – offered to people who have very little cash… like college students. When I was in college, credit card companies would set up tables in the SUB and give away ‘free’ stuff to people filling out applications. Talk about ‘buying…the needy for a pair of sandals"…
So, in addition to tuition, room and board (which we took out loans for), students were encouraged to rack up additional expenses on credit cards with high interest rates. Pretty much every college student I know is at least up to their eyeballs in debt, and even if they find a good job, they’ll spend a substantial chunk of their lives paying it back.
In the meantime, what if they need to buy a house? …. Remember, the housing market has basically collapsed.
And these are college graduates – what’s the situation for people without a degree?
And there’s no time to talk about who doesn’t have health insurance or what you learned about the insurance on your house after Rita…Many things in our society are unbalanced – usually in the favor of whoever has the money, power, or influence. Think Jack Abramoff… and the influence of lobbies on the laws that get made.
If you’re going to oppress or neglect someone, it’s easiest to oppress or ignore the people who are without representation – the poor, the weak, the uneducated, the powerless – because they don’t fight back as much.
BUT, they do have a key advocate. God seems to have a particular concern and care for these folks. And as the Church, we’d better be looking out for them, too. We’d certainly better NOT be contributing to injustice against them.Many times, particularly in the prophets, God’s word is that he doesn’t care about sacrifices and ceremonies – not if the rest of the week is full of injustice. Earlier in Amos, the prophet delivers this message from the Lord:
I hate, I despise your festivals, / and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies…
Take away from me the noise of your songs; / I will not listen to the noise of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters, / and righteousness like an ever-rolling stream.Over and over again, God’s theme is Justice:
"And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice…." (Micah 6:8)But cheating perverts justice, turns it upside down, makes it meaningless.
And if we, as Christians, representing Christ (because we do) – if we cheat people, especially disadvantaged people, not only does it destroy their trust in us personally, but they can associate our behavior with the Church, and with Christ – and they can decide that, if that’s what Christianity is, they want nothing of it.
They’re chased away from hope because they don’t hear, don’t see evidence in us of God’s particular care for the poor, the sick, the weak, and the lonely.
If we, who profess to know and follow God, commit injustice, this puts a barrier in front of people who need hope in God more than anything else - and that’s inexcusable.
This may sound like overkill if all the injustice you did this week was cheat on your math homework.
But part of the message from Luke’s gospel is that, unless they stop – and turn around – little cheaters grow to be big cheaters.
It’s only a matter of time and degree from cheating on tests to cheating on taxes.
The mindset that justifies it and the basic pattern are the same.
As a person gains more responsibility, cheating has wider ramifications.
Think about Enron. How many people lost their jobs? How many lost their retirement?
So if you’re cheating at anything, stop now.
If you’re not – don’t start.In light of all this, the gospel reading from Luke sounds pretty odd.
Here’s a story of a guy who gets fired for cheating his boss, and then his boss compliments him for how clever his cheating was.
What was Jesus trying to say by telling this story?
And why did he pick a cheater as the main character?I don’t know, but my theory is maybe he wanted to show that he knows what kinds of things people get into, and he’s not shocked that people cheat.
When we cheat, God’s not shocked; God knows us already better than we know ourselves. He knows, and he’s not shocked. God can even appreciate the ingenuity and talents we used to do it, since God’s the one who gave us those gifts, but it’s a shame for us to use them on schemes instead of doing something good with them.
It’s also a shame if we don’t use our gifts for anything at all – maybe thinking the only thing we can offer to the church is the gift of being ‘nice’ while we’re here. But there are a lot of attributes natural to each one of you that really contribute to the life and health of the church.
What if you’re not necessarily that nice, but you’re strong? Great! We have heavy stuff.
What if you’re funny? Excellent – there are people here who could use a laugh.
What if you’re good at soccer? What if you know all about horses? What if you can explain complicated things? What if you think about things in simple terms? What if you plan things? What if you read, write, paint – draw, sing, or dance?
Fantastic! Obviously God thinks the church needs it, because he gave it to you and brought you here.Part of Luke’s commentary on the story of the dishonest manager is to say basically that ‘it’s a shame the world is more creative than the church is…’
It’s true –
How much time and money and artistic talent – genius even – go into making a Super Bowl commercial to get people to drink beer or change their car insurance?
How much goes into trying to get people to come to church?People are capable of amazing feats of ingenuity and persistence. Think of anybody who’s dating. Guys and girls both will do all kinds of clever, creative, crazy things to impress a date. Did you see the movie 50 First Dates ? - perfect example.
What if that kind of creativity were given toward honoring God? If we think about how we’re spending our time and creativity now, then cut out the worthless and bad things (which God’s not shocked about because He already knows)
What would we do differently?
Think about it – Make some changes
And let’s see what God will do with us.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Sept. 23, 2007
Readings: Amos 8:4-7(8-12); 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13; Psalm 138
Lord, may we know your word, speak your word, and love your word. Amen.Today’s OT and Gospel readings both talk about cheating.
Basically, if you’re cheating anyone, stop it - especially if you’re cheating poor people or anyone at a disadvantage to you.
The message in Amos is very harsh toward people cheating the poor.
‘Hear this, you who trample the needy… The Lord has sworn… "I will never forget…"’Amos describes some methods people were using in his day to increase their profits by tricking or cheating their customers.
"Skimping the measure, boosting the price, and cheating with dishonest scales…selling even the sweepings with the wheat."Methods are the same today – for example, next time you get gas, notice the sticker on the pump that certifies the pump has been checked to ensure it pumps a gallon of gas for a gallon of gas.
And when I pay $.75 for a bag of chips from the vending machine, and 2/3 of it is air, with 5 chips in the bottom, I feel like someone is skimping the measure.
Now, a popular method of ‘boosting the price’ seems to be tacking on lots of little fees and surcharges for things you didn’t request but didn’t know you had to exclude.
Then there’s the whole area of financing, which invariably ends up making people with less money pay a lot more. Currently, the issue of sub-prime mortgages has been in the news a lot. From what I gather, these are high-risk, high-interest loans made to people who probably really can’t afford to buy a home – and sure enough, most of them couldn’t pay, especially with the high interest. Now, their houses are being foreclosed on, and that whole area of the market has collapsed, sending other sectors of the economy into a tailspin.
Who’s most affected by this? People who can least afford it.
By way of contrast, last year’s Nobel Peace Prize went to an economist who developed a system of micro-lending to help very poor people start businesses. These loans have been so successful that whole sectors of the economies in many developing nations have been strengthened.
It’s not a matter of money – it’s a matter of the lender’s motives.
It’s a matter of justice.
What about credit cards? How are credit cards marketed?
They’re often presented as sources of cash flow – offered to people who have very little cash… like college students. When I was in college, credit card companies would set up tables in the SUB and give away ‘free’ stuff to people filling out applications. Talk about ‘buying…the needy for a pair of sandals"…
So, in addition to tuition, room and board (which we took out loans for), students were encouraged to rack up additional expenses on credit cards with high interest rates. Pretty much every college student I know is at least up to their eyeballs in debt, and even if they find a good job, they’ll spend a substantial chunk of their lives paying it back.
In the meantime, what if they need to buy a house? …. Remember, the housing market has basically collapsed.
And these are college graduates – what’s the situation for people without a degree?
And there’s no time to talk about who doesn’t have health insurance or what you learned about the insurance on your house after Rita…Many things in our society are unbalanced – usually in the favor of whoever has the money, power, or influence. Think Jack Abramoff… and the influence of lobbies on the laws that get made.
If you’re going to oppress or neglect someone, it’s easiest to oppress or ignore the people who are without representation – the poor, the weak, the uneducated, the powerless – because they don’t fight back as much.
BUT, they do have a key advocate. God seems to have a particular concern and care for these folks. And as the Church, we’d better be looking out for them, too. We’d certainly better NOT be contributing to injustice against them.Many times, particularly in the prophets, God’s word is that he doesn’t care about sacrifices and ceremonies – not if the rest of the week is full of injustice. Earlier in Amos, the prophet delivers this message from the Lord:
I hate, I despise your festivals, / and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies…
Take away from me the noise of your songs; / I will not listen to the noise of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters, / and righteousness like an ever-rolling stream.Over and over again, God’s theme is Justice:
"And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice…." (Micah 6:8)But cheating perverts justice, turns it upside down, makes it meaningless.
And if we, as Christians, representing Christ (because we do) – if we cheat people, especially disadvantaged people, not only does it destroy their trust in us personally, but they can associate our behavior with the Church, and with Christ – and they can decide that, if that’s what Christianity is, they want nothing of it.
They’re chased away from hope because they don’t hear, don’t see evidence in us of God’s particular care for the poor, the sick, the weak, and the lonely.
If we, who profess to know and follow God, commit injustice, this puts a barrier in front of people who need hope in God more than anything else - and that’s inexcusable.
This may sound like overkill if all the injustice you did this week was cheat on your math homework.
But part of the message from Luke’s gospel is that, unless they stop – and turn around – little cheaters grow to be big cheaters.
It’s only a matter of time and degree from cheating on tests to cheating on taxes.
The mindset that justifies it and the basic pattern are the same.
As a person gains more responsibility, cheating has wider ramifications.
Think about Enron. How many people lost their jobs? How many lost their retirement?
So if you’re cheating at anything, stop now.
If you’re not – don’t start.In light of all this, the gospel reading from Luke sounds pretty odd.
Here’s a story of a guy who gets fired for cheating his boss, and then his boss compliments him for how clever his cheating was.
What was Jesus trying to say by telling this story?
And why did he pick a cheater as the main character?I don’t know, but my theory is maybe he wanted to show that he knows what kinds of things people get into, and he’s not shocked that people cheat.
When we cheat, God’s not shocked; God knows us already better than we know ourselves. He knows, and he’s not shocked. God can even appreciate the ingenuity and talents we used to do it, since God’s the one who gave us those gifts, but it’s a shame for us to use them on schemes instead of doing something good with them.
It’s also a shame if we don’t use our gifts for anything at all – maybe thinking the only thing we can offer to the church is the gift of being ‘nice’ while we’re here. But there are a lot of attributes natural to each one of you that really contribute to the life and health of the church.
What if you’re not necessarily that nice, but you’re strong? Great! We have heavy stuff.
What if you’re funny? Excellent – there are people here who could use a laugh.
What if you’re good at soccer? What if you know all about horses? What if you can explain complicated things? What if you think about things in simple terms? What if you plan things? What if you read, write, paint – draw, sing, or dance?
Fantastic! Obviously God thinks the church needs it, because he gave it to you and brought you here.Part of Luke’s commentary on the story of the dishonest manager is to say basically that ‘it’s a shame the world is more creative than the church is…’
It’s true –
How much time and money and artistic talent – genius even – go into making a Super Bowl commercial to get people to drink beer or change their car insurance?
How much goes into trying to get people to come to church?People are capable of amazing feats of ingenuity and persistence. Think of anybody who’s dating. Guys and girls both will do all kinds of clever, creative, crazy things to impress a date. Did you see the movie 50 First Dates ? - perfect example.
What if that kind of creativity were given toward honoring God? If we think about how we’re spending our time and creativity now, then cut out the worthless and bad things (which God’s not shocked about because He already knows)
What would we do differently?
Think about it – Make some changes
And let’s see what God will do with us.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Sept. 23, 2007
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Year C
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Be patient
MP - Daily Office Year 1
Readings: Ps 30,32; OT- 1Kings 12:1-20; Epistle- Jas 5:7-12,19-20
Almighty and everlasting God, by whose Spirit the wholebody of your faithful people is governed and sanctified:Receive our supplications and prayers which we offer beforeyour for all members of you holy Church, that in their vocation and ministry they may truly and devoutly serve you;through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
This prayer, that in our vocation and ministry, we may truly and devoutly serve God, seems particularly relevant as we start this year.
Probably most of us have at least a few questions about how this will work out.
Looking around, we might be thinking…
Can I relate to these people? Should I really even be here?
What if the teachers have some crazy theologies or weird ideas about liturgy?
What if these students have some crazy theologies or weird ideas about liturgy…
We all likely have uncertainties: some small, some enormous, some hanging right overhead, and some foggy, off in the distance.
What about field work and church assignments – What if people don’t receive me? What if I’m supposed to be leading and nobody wants to follow?In the epistle, James urges, "Be patient, beloved…"
But what about the future? What happens at the end of this process? What will this be like long-term? What will when Bishop Wimberly retires? Will we get shuffled off in a corner somewhere and ‘set aside?’
How can I make promises to serve here without knowing what I’m getting into exactly?
What’s going to happen to the National Church – what’s going to happen to the Anglican Communion? Am I really in the right place?
"Be patient …"
That could sound dismissive, like I’m trivializing what it’s like to make a commitment, not knowing what it may cost. But in today’s epistle, patience and endurance are not trivial.
I want to examine ‘patience’ and ‘endurance’ here, trying to get a handle on what they may have implied to their early hearers.
It’s always a challenge to convey the meaning of one person’s words using someone else’s words, especially if they’re several hundred years apart in different languages. Images can be more direct, so along with explaining, I want to show you some things.
Ed and Cynthia have very gamely agreed to help.
I’d like you to see, so please move up if you need to.
The first word for patience we’ll show you, hupomone, is translated in this passage as ‘endurance.’
[Cynthia lies down on the floor, and Ed puts his foot on her neck]
According to Strong, this word has a literal meaning of something like ‘stay under’ and it has the sense of living under some oppressive situation, or undergoing suffering….
Look for a moment and notice what reactions you have to this image.
How do you feel about it?
Does it make you think of anything? Is there any situation you relate it to?
…
How does this image track with the passage?
"You have heard of the endurance of Job…"
Job seemed to feel God had a heavy hand on him, causing him all manner of suffering. At one point, he says to God,
"Does it seem good to you to oppress? … Remember that you fashioned me like clay; and will you turn me to dust again?" (Job 10:3, 8-9)
And he complains, "If it is a contest of strength, he is the strong one!" (Job 9:19)
By ‘staying under’ a difficult situation, the word also means not giving up – and not giving in to despair. Job is neither resigned nor stoicly silent. He bears the suffering, and refuses to curse God, though he doesn’t refuse to question or challenge."Be patient, beloved…"
"Have you considered my servant Job?"
Who else is noted in this passage for patience?"As an example of suffering and patience, beloved, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord."Looking at this image, it’s not an unlikely parallel to recall Jeremiah– wearing a yoke on his neck, telling the people and the king to submit to Babylonian rule.
Becoming a prophet was not something he ever wanted to do in the first place. And even though he was doing it as service to his people, at God’s command, no one listened to him, and more often than not, they wanted to kill him.
We talked some last night with Mary about the risks inherent in acting on a call – and the way people may respond. It’s not always supportive.
The word translated ‘patience’ here is makrothumia. It means being ‘long-tempered.’ It’s sometimes translated ‘long-suffering’ or ‘forbearance.’ We describe some patient people as having ‘a long fuse,’ and this is part of the meaning here also. Earlier in James, we read, "Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry…"(Jas 1:19)
Patience can mean sticking with something or someone regardless of what happens to provoke or discourage you. It can have a lot to do with forgiveness, with keeping anger in check to allow fellowship to continue.
This is patience as a willingness to trust, even to suffer at each other’s hands and forgive.
There are some weighty examples of this kind of patience in the scripture.
Looking at this image, can you see Isaac submitting to his father? Can you see Christ?
One further aspect of ‘patience’ in the Greek turns this image of long-suffering and endurance around, adding another dimension.
If Cynthia and Ed were to change places - [they change places]
if the guard were to suddenly be at the mercy of the prisoner, -
how would that change the dynamic?
What would it mean now for Cynthia to show patience?
"… you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful."
This kind of patience is rooted in God’s patience.
God is so faithful to us, so patient with us, choosing to suffer because of us rather than break fellowship. We’re called to be patient with each other and with all whom we serve, to forgive as we’re forgiven, to love as God loves us
[Ed and Cynthia sit down]
What would it take to develop patience like this – to put yourself here?
Do you have the feeling that it’s what we’re doing here now in this formation process - laying our lives on the altar, for God to change us however he plans, re-forming us to give his life and his promises - in us - to the church and to the world?
"Be patient, beloved…"
Another part of James’ message about patience has to do with what we’re waiting for. In the OT reading, we heard about King Solomon’s son refusing to lighten his father’s oppressive forced labor policy, threatening to be even more oppressive. So all Israel deserted him. All but Judah. Judah stayed; it doesn’t say how they felt about it but just that they stayed – Judah was committed to the promise of a Messiah who would come from the house of David. So they stayed even under this arrogant, oppressive king and served him, waiting for the promise.
The prophets – those patient prophets - repeatedly asked, "How long…?"
Perhaps we should think about the same questions; we’re right at the beginning of some new works here. It may take a while to see where it’s going exactly. How long can we live with difficulty, with uncertainty, with each other? How long can we wait for promises we may never see?"Be patient…"
"Be patient, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. …Don’t grumble against one another… Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near."
Readings: Ps 30,32; OT- 1Kings 12:1-20; Epistle- Jas 5:7-12,19-20
Almighty and everlasting God, by whose Spirit the wholebody of your faithful people is governed and sanctified:Receive our supplications and prayers which we offer beforeyour for all members of you holy Church, that in their vocation and ministry they may truly and devoutly serve you;through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
This prayer, that in our vocation and ministry, we may truly and devoutly serve God, seems particularly relevant as we start this year.
Probably most of us have at least a few questions about how this will work out.
Looking around, we might be thinking…
Can I relate to these people? Should I really even be here?
What if the teachers have some crazy theologies or weird ideas about liturgy?
What if these students have some crazy theologies or weird ideas about liturgy…
We all likely have uncertainties: some small, some enormous, some hanging right overhead, and some foggy, off in the distance.
What about field work and church assignments – What if people don’t receive me? What if I’m supposed to be leading and nobody wants to follow?In the epistle, James urges, "Be patient, beloved…"
But what about the future? What happens at the end of this process? What will this be like long-term? What will when Bishop Wimberly retires? Will we get shuffled off in a corner somewhere and ‘set aside?’
How can I make promises to serve here without knowing what I’m getting into exactly?
What’s going to happen to the National Church – what’s going to happen to the Anglican Communion? Am I really in the right place?
"Be patient …"
That could sound dismissive, like I’m trivializing what it’s like to make a commitment, not knowing what it may cost. But in today’s epistle, patience and endurance are not trivial.
I want to examine ‘patience’ and ‘endurance’ here, trying to get a handle on what they may have implied to their early hearers.
It’s always a challenge to convey the meaning of one person’s words using someone else’s words, especially if they’re several hundred years apart in different languages. Images can be more direct, so along with explaining, I want to show you some things.
Ed and Cynthia have very gamely agreed to help.
I’d like you to see, so please move up if you need to.
The first word for patience we’ll show you, hupomone, is translated in this passage as ‘endurance.’
[Cynthia lies down on the floor, and Ed puts his foot on her neck]
According to Strong, this word has a literal meaning of something like ‘stay under’ and it has the sense of living under some oppressive situation, or undergoing suffering….
Look for a moment and notice what reactions you have to this image.
How do you feel about it?
Does it make you think of anything? Is there any situation you relate it to?
…
How does this image track with the passage?
"You have heard of the endurance of Job…"
Job seemed to feel God had a heavy hand on him, causing him all manner of suffering. At one point, he says to God,
"Does it seem good to you to oppress? … Remember that you fashioned me like clay; and will you turn me to dust again?" (Job 10:3, 8-9)
And he complains, "If it is a contest of strength, he is the strong one!" (Job 9:19)
By ‘staying under’ a difficult situation, the word also means not giving up – and not giving in to despair. Job is neither resigned nor stoicly silent. He bears the suffering, and refuses to curse God, though he doesn’t refuse to question or challenge."Be patient, beloved…"
"Have you considered my servant Job?"
Who else is noted in this passage for patience?"As an example of suffering and patience, beloved, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord."Looking at this image, it’s not an unlikely parallel to recall Jeremiah– wearing a yoke on his neck, telling the people and the king to submit to Babylonian rule.
Becoming a prophet was not something he ever wanted to do in the first place. And even though he was doing it as service to his people, at God’s command, no one listened to him, and more often than not, they wanted to kill him.
We talked some last night with Mary about the risks inherent in acting on a call – and the way people may respond. It’s not always supportive.
The word translated ‘patience’ here is makrothumia. It means being ‘long-tempered.’ It’s sometimes translated ‘long-suffering’ or ‘forbearance.’ We describe some patient people as having ‘a long fuse,’ and this is part of the meaning here also. Earlier in James, we read, "Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry…"(Jas 1:19)
Patience can mean sticking with something or someone regardless of what happens to provoke or discourage you. It can have a lot to do with forgiveness, with keeping anger in check to allow fellowship to continue.
This is patience as a willingness to trust, even to suffer at each other’s hands and forgive.
There are some weighty examples of this kind of patience in the scripture.
Looking at this image, can you see Isaac submitting to his father? Can you see Christ?
One further aspect of ‘patience’ in the Greek turns this image of long-suffering and endurance around, adding another dimension.
If Cynthia and Ed were to change places - [they change places]
if the guard were to suddenly be at the mercy of the prisoner, -
how would that change the dynamic?
What would it mean now for Cynthia to show patience?
"… you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful."
This kind of patience is rooted in God’s patience.
God is so faithful to us, so patient with us, choosing to suffer because of us rather than break fellowship. We’re called to be patient with each other and with all whom we serve, to forgive as we’re forgiven, to love as God loves us
[Ed and Cynthia sit down]
What would it take to develop patience like this – to put yourself here?
Do you have the feeling that it’s what we’re doing here now in this formation process - laying our lives on the altar, for God to change us however he plans, re-forming us to give his life and his promises - in us - to the church and to the world?
"Be patient, beloved…"
Another part of James’ message about patience has to do with what we’re waiting for. In the OT reading, we heard about King Solomon’s son refusing to lighten his father’s oppressive forced labor policy, threatening to be even more oppressive. So all Israel deserted him. All but Judah. Judah stayed; it doesn’t say how they felt about it but just that they stayed – Judah was committed to the promise of a Messiah who would come from the house of David. So they stayed even under this arrogant, oppressive king and served him, waiting for the promise.
The prophets – those patient prophets - repeatedly asked, "How long…?"
Perhaps we should think about the same questions; we’re right at the beginning of some new works here. It may take a while to see where it’s going exactly. How long can we live with difficulty, with uncertainty, with each other? How long can we wait for promises we may never see?"Be patient…"
"Be patient, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. …Don’t grumble against one another… Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near."
----------------------------------------
Given to the Iona School for Ministry
Sept. 8, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
1st sermon at St. John's
Year C - Pentecost, Proper 16
Readings: Isaiah 28:14-22; Hebrews 12:18-19,22-29; Luke 13:22-30; Psalm 46
This is a difficult passage - it's really harsh in some parts, especially in the way the owner talks to the people knocking on the door.
Once the door is shut, the owner of the house refuses to open it when people ask to come in. And not only that, he says he doesn't even know them: 'I do not know where you come from; go away from me, all you evildoers!"
But - Just a few chapters earlier in Luke, Jesus was saying 'Ask and it will be given to you; search and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you."
Which is it?
If the people come and ask to be let in, the owner of the house should let them in - that's the compassionate thing to do. Just because they're a little late ... they shouldn't be thrown out - especially when you're talking about 'weeping and gnashing of teeth!'
This is what I want to focus on - what is going on between the people at the door and the owner of the house?
I found this story really hard to take. It didn't seem fair. I was stuck for what to say about it.
I read the passage again and again in different ways. I wrote it out and noticed certain words that stuck out or seemed important. I copied the passage on a small piece of paper and carried it around with me, reading it in different places. I tried imagining how I would stage this scene if I was a theater director. I read it again imagining different emotions and thoughts could be under the surface of each person's words - I tried a lot of things, but I was still stuck.
The last exercise I tried involved asking someone else to look at the passage and give their reaction. I took my piece of paper over to my friend Janeal's apartment and asked her to read it.
Her reaction to it suprised me. She saw it from a completely different perspective.
In the passage, the people come to the door and ask to be let in, and the owner refuses to let them in. In fact, he says he doesn't know where they come from and tells him to go away.
I drew a picture of this, trying to imagine it. In my picture, a stick person stood outside a house, with his hand up to the door, his eyebrows up, looking anxious. Inside, the stick-person owner sat in a chair, his back to the door, his eyebrows down, scowling, and his arms crossed.
When Janeal read it, she thought the people outside were whining, making up stories and excuses, and the owner of the house just wasn't falling for it.
Suddenly, the passage had a completely different feeling.
Instead of a sincere, earnest Prodigal Son type figure, the person outside the door becomes a bad salesman. 'You remember me! We go way back...'
And instead of a mean father holding a grudge, the owner of the house seems perfectly reasonable.
Did you ever get a phone call from a telemarketer who couldn't pronounce your name but pretended to know you anyway?
One of my friends recently got some strange calls from a lady wanting to apply for a job. 'Oh, I know your parents!'
Her parents both said, 'We've never heard of her.'
If the situation in the passage is like this, it suddenly makes a lot of sense for the owner of the house to refuse to open the door - and for him to say, 'I do not know where you come from; go away...!'
One thing about reading the Bible is that you're not likely to find THE ONLY WAY to read any passage. That's not to say that anyone can make it say anything they want; there are limits to interpretation, but within what's possible, there can be some variation.
For one thing, there's a lot of background meaning that we all assume - and assume differently - when we read scripture. Without even realizing it, we fill in all sorts of randome little details that become the background for how we read the passage, sometimes that can help and sometimes it can get in the way.
When I read the passage at first, I assumed a lot of things that weren't specifically stated. For example, I assumed the people who knocked on the door were telling the truth, that they really did know the owner and they were sincere and earnest.
But there's a problem.
The people say the owner knows them, and the owner says he doesn't know them, so who's telling the truth?
Since I first assumed the people were truthful, it had to be that the owner did know them; he was simply denying it.
That creates another problem - Why?
The story doesn't say anything about this - so I assumed there was no reason - he just must be arbitrarily vindictive.
All of a sudden, the story is terrible. Here are these innocent, pleading people asking to come in to their friend's house, and he cruelly throws them out, pretending to not even know them. Now, if we imagine that the owner of the house represents God - what an awful image! How scary! You think God knows you, but what if someday, you come to heaven and knock on the door and he tells you to go away and pretends like he's never even seen you before?
That didn't seem right at all.
But what about from the other perspective?
The people are cons, pretending to be friends of the owner, and he doesn't fall for it - he sends them away. When he says he doesn't know them, it's because he doesn't know them.
This doesn't say anything about how the owner of the house treats his family or his friends. Most likely, he would have a very different response if it was his family or his friends knocking on the door, because he knows them.
With this in mind, the passage started to fit in better with my experience of God and other descriptions we read in the Bible - Especially if you combine this with some of the other stories from Luke's gospel - the Prodigal Son, the repentant thief on the cross, and the passage including the Lord's Prayer, where we're invited to pray, 'Our Father...' - this passage goes on to say, 'ask and you will receive... knock and the door will be opened for you.'
I think, in interpreting what we read, it's important to bear in mind what we know about God - what our experience of God is.
This passage still fits in with the others. It makes a difference, though, how you frame the images.
For example, after hearing Janeal's response, I also imagined this story in light of a student/teacher interaction. I teach ESL writing at Lamar, and just this week, a student came in - on Thursday, the first day of the fall semester - to question her failing grade in the spring semester.
"I don't understand what a 'U' is."
"It means 'unsatisfactory' - you failed the class."
"No, I couldn't have failed the class, because I know I was passing."
I pulled up her grades for the semester and printed them out - "You had a passing grade for your quiz average, but you had only half credit for each of your essays, and you failed the exam."
"But I thought I was passing - you didn't tell me I was failing."
"I gave you your grades at mid-term, and I told you that you should re-write some of your essays."
"I know, but you didn't say that I was failing."
"I told you your essay grade was a 50."
Whether you are a teacher or a student or a parent or ever have been, you can probably imagine similar situations from your own experience - think of the he said/she said dilemma parents have in weighing a child's version of why he got in trouble with the teacher's version. You have to decide who's more credible - and who's more likely to exaggerate the story.
In this passage, who's more likely to be exaggerating - the owner of the house or the people outside?
When you compare this dynamic to today's passage, you can imagine the people at the door like students protesting, 'You didn't tell us we had to know that,' and the owner of the house like a teacher responding, 'You know everything this course requires - it's in the syllabus.'
It's not like we don't know what's required of us in this 'course' we're taking in life. As we read in the well-known passage from Micah, 'and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?' In the New Testament, it's summed up in Matthew, Mark and Luke as essentially 'Love God... and love your neighbor'
A main point in this passage is the response Jesus gives to the person who asks, 'Will only a few be saved?' He doesn't answer that question directly, because it's not about a number, it's about doing what's right - what we know is right already. "Strive to enter through the narrow gate." Try your hardest; do your best, but don't worry about who's first or last; it's not a competition. It's not about who gets the highest grade - it's about learning what the teacher is is trying to teach us.
And good teachers want their students to learn; they'll do everything they can to help their students succeed. Good teachers are not out to make their students fail - but they're not going to be duped or bullied either.
So,
- come to class
- do the readings
- do your homework
- ask the teacher for help when you need it
Strive to enter through the narrow door - then don't worry about whether you come in first or last. Just make sure you know the owner of the house - and the owner of the house knows you.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Aug. 26, 2007
Readings: Isaiah 28:14-22; Hebrews 12:18-19,22-29; Luke 13:22-30; Psalm 46
This is a difficult passage - it's really harsh in some parts, especially in the way the owner talks to the people knocking on the door.
Once the door is shut, the owner of the house refuses to open it when people ask to come in. And not only that, he says he doesn't even know them: 'I do not know where you come from; go away from me, all you evildoers!"
But - Just a few chapters earlier in Luke, Jesus was saying 'Ask and it will be given to you; search and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you."
Which is it?
If the people come and ask to be let in, the owner of the house should let them in - that's the compassionate thing to do. Just because they're a little late ... they shouldn't be thrown out - especially when you're talking about 'weeping and gnashing of teeth!'
This is what I want to focus on - what is going on between the people at the door and the owner of the house?
I found this story really hard to take. It didn't seem fair. I was stuck for what to say about it.
I read the passage again and again in different ways. I wrote it out and noticed certain words that stuck out or seemed important. I copied the passage on a small piece of paper and carried it around with me, reading it in different places. I tried imagining how I would stage this scene if I was a theater director. I read it again imagining different emotions and thoughts could be under the surface of each person's words - I tried a lot of things, but I was still stuck.
The last exercise I tried involved asking someone else to look at the passage and give their reaction. I took my piece of paper over to my friend Janeal's apartment and asked her to read it.
Her reaction to it suprised me. She saw it from a completely different perspective.
In the passage, the people come to the door and ask to be let in, and the owner refuses to let them in. In fact, he says he doesn't know where they come from and tells him to go away.
I drew a picture of this, trying to imagine it. In my picture, a stick person stood outside a house, with his hand up to the door, his eyebrows up, looking anxious. Inside, the stick-person owner sat in a chair, his back to the door, his eyebrows down, scowling, and his arms crossed.
When Janeal read it, she thought the people outside were whining, making up stories and excuses, and the owner of the house just wasn't falling for it.
Suddenly, the passage had a completely different feeling.
Instead of a sincere, earnest Prodigal Son type figure, the person outside the door becomes a bad salesman. 'You remember me! We go way back...'
And instead of a mean father holding a grudge, the owner of the house seems perfectly reasonable.
Did you ever get a phone call from a telemarketer who couldn't pronounce your name but pretended to know you anyway?
One of my friends recently got some strange calls from a lady wanting to apply for a job. 'Oh, I know your parents!'
Her parents both said, 'We've never heard of her.'
If the situation in the passage is like this, it suddenly makes a lot of sense for the owner of the house to refuse to open the door - and for him to say, 'I do not know where you come from; go away...!'
One thing about reading the Bible is that you're not likely to find THE ONLY WAY to read any passage. That's not to say that anyone can make it say anything they want; there are limits to interpretation, but within what's possible, there can be some variation.
For one thing, there's a lot of background meaning that we all assume - and assume differently - when we read scripture. Without even realizing it, we fill in all sorts of randome little details that become the background for how we read the passage, sometimes that can help and sometimes it can get in the way.
When I read the passage at first, I assumed a lot of things that weren't specifically stated. For example, I assumed the people who knocked on the door were telling the truth, that they really did know the owner and they were sincere and earnest.
But there's a problem.
The people say the owner knows them, and the owner says he doesn't know them, so who's telling the truth?
Since I first assumed the people were truthful, it had to be that the owner did know them; he was simply denying it.
That creates another problem - Why?
The story doesn't say anything about this - so I assumed there was no reason - he just must be arbitrarily vindictive.
All of a sudden, the story is terrible. Here are these innocent, pleading people asking to come in to their friend's house, and he cruelly throws them out, pretending to not even know them. Now, if we imagine that the owner of the house represents God - what an awful image! How scary! You think God knows you, but what if someday, you come to heaven and knock on the door and he tells you to go away and pretends like he's never even seen you before?
That didn't seem right at all.
But what about from the other perspective?
The people are cons, pretending to be friends of the owner, and he doesn't fall for it - he sends them away. When he says he doesn't know them, it's because he doesn't know them.
This doesn't say anything about how the owner of the house treats his family or his friends. Most likely, he would have a very different response if it was his family or his friends knocking on the door, because he knows them.
With this in mind, the passage started to fit in better with my experience of God and other descriptions we read in the Bible - Especially if you combine this with some of the other stories from Luke's gospel - the Prodigal Son, the repentant thief on the cross, and the passage including the Lord's Prayer, where we're invited to pray, 'Our Father...' - this passage goes on to say, 'ask and you will receive... knock and the door will be opened for you.'
I think, in interpreting what we read, it's important to bear in mind what we know about God - what our experience of God is.
This passage still fits in with the others. It makes a difference, though, how you frame the images.
For example, after hearing Janeal's response, I also imagined this story in light of a student/teacher interaction. I teach ESL writing at Lamar, and just this week, a student came in - on Thursday, the first day of the fall semester - to question her failing grade in the spring semester.
"I don't understand what a 'U' is."
"It means 'unsatisfactory' - you failed the class."
"No, I couldn't have failed the class, because I know I was passing."
I pulled up her grades for the semester and printed them out - "You had a passing grade for your quiz average, but you had only half credit for each of your essays, and you failed the exam."
"But I thought I was passing - you didn't tell me I was failing."
"I gave you your grades at mid-term, and I told you that you should re-write some of your essays."
"I know, but you didn't say that I was failing."
"I told you your essay grade was a 50."
Whether you are a teacher or a student or a parent or ever have been, you can probably imagine similar situations from your own experience - think of the he said/she said dilemma parents have in weighing a child's version of why he got in trouble with the teacher's version. You have to decide who's more credible - and who's more likely to exaggerate the story.
In this passage, who's more likely to be exaggerating - the owner of the house or the people outside?
When you compare this dynamic to today's passage, you can imagine the people at the door like students protesting, 'You didn't tell us we had to know that,' and the owner of the house like a teacher responding, 'You know everything this course requires - it's in the syllabus.'
It's not like we don't know what's required of us in this 'course' we're taking in life. As we read in the well-known passage from Micah, 'and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?' In the New Testament, it's summed up in Matthew, Mark and Luke as essentially 'Love God... and love your neighbor'
A main point in this passage is the response Jesus gives to the person who asks, 'Will only a few be saved?' He doesn't answer that question directly, because it's not about a number, it's about doing what's right - what we know is right already. "Strive to enter through the narrow gate." Try your hardest; do your best, but don't worry about who's first or last; it's not a competition. It's not about who gets the highest grade - it's about learning what the teacher is is trying to teach us.
And good teachers want their students to learn; they'll do everything they can to help their students succeed. Good teachers are not out to make their students fail - but they're not going to be duped or bullied either.
So,
- come to class
- do the readings
- do your homework
- ask the teacher for help when you need it
Strive to enter through the narrow door - then don't worry about whether you come in first or last. Just make sure you know the owner of the house - and the owner of the house knows you.
-------------------------------------
Given to St. John's, Silsbee
Aug. 26, 2007
Labels:
God,
heaven,
owner of the house,
St. John's,
Year C
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Not peace but division
Year C - Pentecost, Proper 15
Readings : Jeremiah 23:23-29 Hebrews 12:1-7(8-10)11-14 Luke 12:49-56 Psalm 82
"Do you think that I have come to bring peace?
No, I tell you, but rather division!"
These are Jesus’ words… but they don’t sound like they should be.
They don’t sound right. How can this be the Gospel?
How can this be good news?
No, I tell you, but rather division!"
Division doesn’t sound like good news – it doesn’t sound like something Jesus should be involved in.
But it does sound like our experience.
It sounds like my family's experience anyway.
We have conflicts and estrangements and divisions. That's not all we have, but we do have some of that.
Not peace, but division - Does it sound like your family?
It sounds like St. Marks these past couple of years.
It sounds like the Episcopal Church, too.
It sounds like the whole Anglican Communion.
It sounds like every denomination in the holy catholic church in every place and time throughout all our histories.
Not peace, but division -
How is this good news?
It’s good news because there’s more to experiences of conflict than just division.
Division is not where a happy, healthy, peaceful story tragically ends; more often, it's where a real story of honesty, brokenness and healing begins.
What might it mean for Jesus to say, ‘I come to bring division?’I don’t know exactly. I think it’s a strange and confusing thing for him to say.
But I did think of a story in my experience where it seemed to work like this – someone bringing division in order to lead to wholeness.I remember participating in a team-building exercise with a mission group just before heading to North Africa for a month - right after I finished college and before I moved here. Our group included four different nationalities, so a facilitator led us in a get-to-know-you discussion. She began by asking what we knew of each other’s cultures, and she wrote down what we said:'Canadians are quiet and avoid conflict,'
'It's hot in west Africa,' 'Caribbean Islanders like music,'
'Americans mainly want money and power.'
At first, it seemed like kind of a shallow exercise, but tension started up as stereotypes and misconceptions emerged. Strangely, our facilitator didn't try to reverse this - instead, she asked more questions and stood listening as we started arguing with each other, becoming defensive and angry.
‘If you think Canadians are quiet, maybe it's because Americans talk so much they never listen!’
‘What are you getting mad at us for? People in other countries are always dumping on Americans, and we have to apologize for everything anyone wants to blame someone for – it’s like we have to apologize for existing, and even that doesn't satisfy you!’
The tension got thicker, and the words got faster and louder,
and then it got very quiet.
I was staring at my feet. The room felt like it might either melt or explode.
Then, over to my left, I heard Adam Farenholz speak up. "What are you doing to us?! We were getting along fine until you came in and started turning us against each other!"
We had assumed the discussion would be simple and peaceful, not divisive. It was a horrible suprise to be suddenly stuck in all that anger and not know the way back. There didn't seem to be a way back - so somehow, we kept going ahead – we kept talking - and after many tears and apologies and an awkward but beautiful ceremony of washing each other’s feet, we were a whole group again – but much more so.
We had moved – very painfully - from assuming we knew each other to actually knowing each other. We went off on that trip with our eyes more open to our own and each other’s weaknesses, and we held each other up better.
An important point here –
The lady who started the discussion and drew it out didn’t create the divisions that emerged between us.
They were already there. They had just been invisible before, like tiny, hairline fractures in a piece of stone or steel - where the right amount of force can break it apart or cause collapse.
Maybe when Jesus said he came to bring division, he was not creating division, but simply laying bare divisions that already existed, which had been hidden or unknown, so they could be addressed.
In the reading from Jeremiah, the Lord asks 'Who can hide in secret places so that I cannot see them? ... Is not my word like fire... and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?'
Possibly that’s something of what happened when ‘the hurricane and the storm’ cracked our foundation here at St. Mark’s, or when some of General Convention’s decisions pushed rival factions to separate. Maybe it’s part of what we’re looking at in September, when the Archbishop comes to New Orleans to figure out how to relate to the Episcopal Church.
Now, please don’t misunderstand – I’m not saying it’s a good idea to intentionally break things apart with the idea that this will push the healing process along faster.
As Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans, "Should we sin more that grace may abound? May it never be!"
But I am saying that where we’re cracked and broken now, if the fractures were already there, it wasn’t primarily the added pressure that broke us.
We were already broken; we just couldn’t see it.
In the Gospel reading today, Jesus' description of division references a passage in Micah.
The prophet outlines God’s charge and indictment against the people for acting unjustly, and he describes what life was like at that time.
Micah then prays to God, and here’s where we find the Gospel – here is the good news about division and judgment – it’s that mercy and forgiveness can come afterwards.
------------------------------------------
Given to St. Mark's, Beaumont
Aug. 19, 2007 But he goes on – and we begin to hear some hope."Do you think that I have come to bring peace? No, I tell you, but rather division!"
Readings : Jeremiah 23:23-29 Hebrews 12:1-7(8-10)11-14 Luke 12:49-56 Psalm 82
"Do you think that I have come to bring peace?
No, I tell you, but rather division!"
These are Jesus’ words… but they don’t sound like they should be.
They don’t sound right. How can this be the Gospel?
How can this be good news?
"From now on, five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three;"Do you think that I have come to bring peace?
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."
No, I tell you, but rather division!"
Division doesn’t sound like good news – it doesn’t sound like something Jesus should be involved in.
But it does sound like our experience.
It sounds like my family's experience anyway.
We have conflicts and estrangements and divisions. That's not all we have, but we do have some of that.
Not peace, but division - Does it sound like your family?
It sounds like St. Marks these past couple of years.
It sounds like the Episcopal Church, too.
It sounds like the whole Anglican Communion.
It sounds like every denomination in the holy catholic church in every place and time throughout all our histories.
Not peace, but division -
How is this good news?
It’s good news because there’s more to experiences of conflict than just division.
Division is not where a happy, healthy, peaceful story tragically ends; more often, it's where a real story of honesty, brokenness and healing begins.
What might it mean for Jesus to say, ‘I come to bring division?’I don’t know exactly. I think it’s a strange and confusing thing for him to say.
But I did think of a story in my experience where it seemed to work like this – someone bringing division in order to lead to wholeness.I remember participating in a team-building exercise with a mission group just before heading to North Africa for a month - right after I finished college and before I moved here. Our group included four different nationalities, so a facilitator led us in a get-to-know-you discussion. She began by asking what we knew of each other’s cultures, and she wrote down what we said:'Canadians are quiet and avoid conflict,'
'It's hot in west Africa,' 'Caribbean Islanders like music,'
'Americans mainly want money and power.'
At first, it seemed like kind of a shallow exercise, but tension started up as stereotypes and misconceptions emerged. Strangely, our facilitator didn't try to reverse this - instead, she asked more questions and stood listening as we started arguing with each other, becoming defensive and angry.
‘If you think Canadians are quiet, maybe it's because Americans talk so much they never listen!’
‘What are you getting mad at us for? People in other countries are always dumping on Americans, and we have to apologize for everything anyone wants to blame someone for – it’s like we have to apologize for existing, and even that doesn't satisfy you!’
The tension got thicker, and the words got faster and louder,
and then it got very quiet.
I was staring at my feet. The room felt like it might either melt or explode.
Then, over to my left, I heard Adam Farenholz speak up. "What are you doing to us?! We were getting along fine until you came in and started turning us against each other!"
We had assumed the discussion would be simple and peaceful, not divisive. It was a horrible suprise to be suddenly stuck in all that anger and not know the way back. There didn't seem to be a way back - so somehow, we kept going ahead – we kept talking - and after many tears and apologies and an awkward but beautiful ceremony of washing each other’s feet, we were a whole group again – but much more so.
We had moved – very painfully - from assuming we knew each other to actually knowing each other. We went off on that trip with our eyes more open to our own and each other’s weaknesses, and we held each other up better.
An important point here –
The lady who started the discussion and drew it out didn’t create the divisions that emerged between us.
They were already there. They had just been invisible before, like tiny, hairline fractures in a piece of stone or steel - where the right amount of force can break it apart or cause collapse.
Maybe when Jesus said he came to bring division, he was not creating division, but simply laying bare divisions that already existed, which had been hidden or unknown, so they could be addressed.
In the reading from Jeremiah, the Lord asks 'Who can hide in secret places so that I cannot see them? ... Is not my word like fire... and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?'
Possibly that’s something of what happened when ‘the hurricane and the storm’ cracked our foundation here at St. Mark’s, or when some of General Convention’s decisions pushed rival factions to separate. Maybe it’s part of what we’re looking at in September, when the Archbishop comes to New Orleans to figure out how to relate to the Episcopal Church.
Now, please don’t misunderstand – I’m not saying it’s a good idea to intentionally break things apart with the idea that this will push the healing process along faster.
As Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans, "Should we sin more that grace may abound? May it never be!"
But I am saying that where we’re cracked and broken now, if the fractures were already there, it wasn’t primarily the added pressure that broke us.
We were already broken; we just couldn’t see it.
In the Gospel reading today, Jesus' description of division references a passage in Micah.
The prophet outlines God’s charge and indictment against the people for acting unjustly, and he describes what life was like at that time.
"Put no trust in a friend, have no confidence in a loved one; guard the doors of your mouth from her who lies in your embrace; for the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; your enemies are members of your own household."
"Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise;
When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.
I must bear the indignation of the Lord, because I have sinned against him,
until he takes my side and executes judgment for me."
Micah then prays to God, and here’s where we find the Gospel – here is the good news about division and judgment – it’s that mercy and forgiveness can come afterwards.
"Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquityInto the depths of the sea."
and passing over the transgression of the remnant of your possession?
He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in showing clemency.
He will again have compassion upon us; he will tread our iniquities under foot.You will cast all our sins
------------------------------------------
Given to St. Mark's, Beaumont
Aug. 19, 2007 But he goes on – and we begin to hear some hope."Do you think that I have come to bring peace? No, I tell you, but rather division!"
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Year C
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Trinity
Year C, Trinity Sunday
Gospel Reading: John 16:5-15
Trinity
Today is Trinity Sunday, celebrating and recognizing God in the three persons of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It’s not common in the church calendar to have a day dedicated to an idea or a doctrine, but the idea of the Trinity is central to the way we as Christians understand our relationship to God.
Today’s scripture from the Gospel of John is one of several in the Bible that talks about relationships between Father, Son and Spirit. The word ‘Trinity’ is not in the Bible, but as the church worked out how to explain what it believed, this word was created to express the mysterious way in which Christians encounter God as Father, Jesus as God’s Son and the Holy Spirit in relationship to both and to us.
Though it seems contradictory, the idea of something being many things and one thing is not totally unimaginable. A family is one thing even though there are separate, distinct members; whether there are two or five or sixty people; it’s still the same family. Likewise, a country – we have on our money ‘E pluribus unum’ – ‘Out of many, one.’ The Church also - though we are many people, and we are very different from each other, still we are one body.
Similarly, Father, Son and Holy Spirit are distinct, but they’re one God. How this works is the subject of defining the doctrine of the Trinity.
The idea of the Trinity, though in one way simple, is hard to explain exactly; it took the church a few hundred years to hash out descriptions of it and even still, there are arguments. One of the results of those many, many, many discussions was the Apostle’s Creed, where we say ‘I believe in God the Father,.. and in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord..." and "I believe in the Holy Ghost..."
Analogy of Love
Augustine, a bishop in North Africa, spent a big part of his life trying to understand and explain the Trinity. He wrote a 15-volume book about it, even. One of the ways he came up with for describing it is an analogy – the Analogy of Love. Augustine said that the Trinity is a relationship. The Father loves the Son, and the Son loves the Father back, and the Holy Spirit is the love between them.
Augustine felt that, though good, this analogy didn’t completely work, and he tried to refine it with many variations. He concluded that really no image or analogy can exactly describe the Trinity, but he also thought that, even though he could never perfectly describe it, it was worth trying. And I’m glad he went to all that trouble, because I think his analogy is helpful.
Heart Strings
It helps me, anyway. I think of the Father loving the Son, and the Holy Spirit as love – and I imagine the Holy Spirit, the love between them, like an elastic string tying their hearts together.
This image also helps me in thinking about my relationships with other people. My heart is tied to all the people I love, so when someone leaves, or moves away, or dies, those strings stretch out, pulling on my heart. Sometimes it’s quite painful, but I think of the ache as a reminder that my heart is still tied to the person I’m separated from, and so wherever they are, part of me is there also.
I thought about this when my grandmother on my mom’s side died a few years ago. I felt she had taken part of my heart with her but that it was still tied on to me. In a way, though, that made heaven seem closer, because wherever it was, I knew she had to be there, and part of me was there with her.
You may feel this way about people you love. Some of you may feel like this about Anna. I do. She brought so much life and joy to this church through her music and her spirit. I think she has taken part of us with her to heaven, and we feel our hearts pulling us there, wanting to be with her.
In Matthew, we read that where our treasure is, there our heart will be also. So tie your heart to real treasures that will pull you toward heaven. I’m sure we did that by tying our hearts to Nan Nan.
I think this is what happened with those who knew Jesus. Because he lived among people as one of them, they got to know him and love him. They followed him, investing their lives in him, and when he died, it was very painful for them. The wind went out of their sails; they didn’t know what to do. When he rose and ascended back to the Father, though, he pulled their hearts with him toward heaven and blew the Holy Spirit as a following wind to push them on. It changed their direction and their drive; they became more sure of their faith in Christ. Where before, Peter waffled and even denied knowing Christ, later he died for him.
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is saying ‘goodbye’ to his disciples. They love him and don’t want him to go away, and Jesus knows it’s hard for them. ‘Because I have said these things, you are filled with grief. But I tell you the truth: it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.’
A little after this passage, Jesus prays to the Father for his disciples, as we read together earlier, and in that prayer, we hear what was supposed to happen later after Jesus went away. "Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.
"Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them, and that I myself may be in them."
Signs
The Gospel of John is a very carefully organized work, and it seems to be in two main sections, which scholars call the Book of Signs and the Book of Glory. In the first part, Jesus performs signs or miracles to show and explain to people who he is – God’s Son – and that God loves them. In the second part, his final, most important sign shows the world God’s love in a complete and definitive way, through a total self-giving act.
Many people today are interested in the idea of signs or miracles. I think it’s pretty universal for people to want to hear from God, but we’re not always the best at recognizing how God speaks to us. Today’s reading seems to indicate the Holy Spirit will help open our eyes to what’s true, remind us of what Jesus taught and offer comfort in our struggles. Often, signs of God’s love are all around us but we have to pay attention and look with eyes of faith – faith seeking understanding.
There’s a song by Carolyn Arends that I like which says, ‘I was hoping for a miracle and waiting for a sign/ as if each breath I take is not a gift,/ and I was acting just as if the way you gave your life for mine/ didn’t have my foolish heart convinced. What did I think could cause this hunger – did I ever stop to wonder why every time I open up my eyes...There you are."
In another song, she asks, "Do we dare pay attention, dare even mention, the mystery we find ourselves caught in...And do we dare to remember all that we have forgotten?"
The cross remains for us a sign and reminder of God’s love in Christ’s sacrifice. Jesus told his disciples, "when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to myself." In the same discourse as today’s passage, Jesus also commanded his disciples to love one another, and this love would be a sign to others.
So the love – the Spirit - that ties Jesus’ heart to the Father ties our hearts together as well in community and communion, creating a web of interconnections – like a huge net. And as Christ is lifted up, the net is pulled up behind him, catching and drawing even more people all together toward God – God who is himself a community of love.
----------------------------------
Given to Vidor Presbyterian
and in memory of Anna Lee
June 5, 2007
Gospel Reading: John 16:5-15
Trinity
Today is Trinity Sunday, celebrating and recognizing God in the three persons of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It’s not common in the church calendar to have a day dedicated to an idea or a doctrine, but the idea of the Trinity is central to the way we as Christians understand our relationship to God.
Today’s scripture from the Gospel of John is one of several in the Bible that talks about relationships between Father, Son and Spirit. The word ‘Trinity’ is not in the Bible, but as the church worked out how to explain what it believed, this word was created to express the mysterious way in which Christians encounter God as Father, Jesus as God’s Son and the Holy Spirit in relationship to both and to us.
Though it seems contradictory, the idea of something being many things and one thing is not totally unimaginable. A family is one thing even though there are separate, distinct members; whether there are two or five or sixty people; it’s still the same family. Likewise, a country – we have on our money ‘E pluribus unum’ – ‘Out of many, one.’ The Church also - though we are many people, and we are very different from each other, still we are one body.
Similarly, Father, Son and Holy Spirit are distinct, but they’re one God. How this works is the subject of defining the doctrine of the Trinity.
The idea of the Trinity, though in one way simple, is hard to explain exactly; it took the church a few hundred years to hash out descriptions of it and even still, there are arguments. One of the results of those many, many, many discussions was the Apostle’s Creed, where we say ‘I believe in God the Father,.. and in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord..." and "I believe in the Holy Ghost..."
Analogy of Love
Augustine, a bishop in North Africa, spent a big part of his life trying to understand and explain the Trinity. He wrote a 15-volume book about it, even. One of the ways he came up with for describing it is an analogy – the Analogy of Love. Augustine said that the Trinity is a relationship. The Father loves the Son, and the Son loves the Father back, and the Holy Spirit is the love between them.
Augustine felt that, though good, this analogy didn’t completely work, and he tried to refine it with many variations. He concluded that really no image or analogy can exactly describe the Trinity, but he also thought that, even though he could never perfectly describe it, it was worth trying. And I’m glad he went to all that trouble, because I think his analogy is helpful.
Heart Strings
It helps me, anyway. I think of the Father loving the Son, and the Holy Spirit as love – and I imagine the Holy Spirit, the love between them, like an elastic string tying their hearts together.
This image also helps me in thinking about my relationships with other people. My heart is tied to all the people I love, so when someone leaves, or moves away, or dies, those strings stretch out, pulling on my heart. Sometimes it’s quite painful, but I think of the ache as a reminder that my heart is still tied to the person I’m separated from, and so wherever they are, part of me is there also.
I thought about this when my grandmother on my mom’s side died a few years ago. I felt she had taken part of my heart with her but that it was still tied on to me. In a way, though, that made heaven seem closer, because wherever it was, I knew she had to be there, and part of me was there with her.
You may feel this way about people you love. Some of you may feel like this about Anna. I do. She brought so much life and joy to this church through her music and her spirit. I think she has taken part of us with her to heaven, and we feel our hearts pulling us there, wanting to be with her.
In Matthew, we read that where our treasure is, there our heart will be also. So tie your heart to real treasures that will pull you toward heaven. I’m sure we did that by tying our hearts to Nan Nan.
I think this is what happened with those who knew Jesus. Because he lived among people as one of them, they got to know him and love him. They followed him, investing their lives in him, and when he died, it was very painful for them. The wind went out of their sails; they didn’t know what to do. When he rose and ascended back to the Father, though, he pulled their hearts with him toward heaven and blew the Holy Spirit as a following wind to push them on. It changed their direction and their drive; they became more sure of their faith in Christ. Where before, Peter waffled and even denied knowing Christ, later he died for him.
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is saying ‘goodbye’ to his disciples. They love him and don’t want him to go away, and Jesus knows it’s hard for them. ‘Because I have said these things, you are filled with grief. But I tell you the truth: it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.’
A little after this passage, Jesus prays to the Father for his disciples, as we read together earlier, and in that prayer, we hear what was supposed to happen later after Jesus went away. "Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.
"Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them, and that I myself may be in them."
Signs
The Gospel of John is a very carefully organized work, and it seems to be in two main sections, which scholars call the Book of Signs and the Book of Glory. In the first part, Jesus performs signs or miracles to show and explain to people who he is – God’s Son – and that God loves them. In the second part, his final, most important sign shows the world God’s love in a complete and definitive way, through a total self-giving act.
Many people today are interested in the idea of signs or miracles. I think it’s pretty universal for people to want to hear from God, but we’re not always the best at recognizing how God speaks to us. Today’s reading seems to indicate the Holy Spirit will help open our eyes to what’s true, remind us of what Jesus taught and offer comfort in our struggles. Often, signs of God’s love are all around us but we have to pay attention and look with eyes of faith – faith seeking understanding.
There’s a song by Carolyn Arends that I like which says, ‘I was hoping for a miracle and waiting for a sign/ as if each breath I take is not a gift,/ and I was acting just as if the way you gave your life for mine/ didn’t have my foolish heart convinced. What did I think could cause this hunger – did I ever stop to wonder why every time I open up my eyes...There you are."
In another song, she asks, "Do we dare pay attention, dare even mention, the mystery we find ourselves caught in...And do we dare to remember all that we have forgotten?"
The cross remains for us a sign and reminder of God’s love in Christ’s sacrifice. Jesus told his disciples, "when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to myself." In the same discourse as today’s passage, Jesus also commanded his disciples to love one another, and this love would be a sign to others.
So the love – the Spirit - that ties Jesus’ heart to the Father ties our hearts together as well in community and communion, creating a web of interconnections – like a huge net. And as Christ is lifted up, the net is pulled up behind him, catching and drawing even more people all together toward God – God who is himself a community of love.
----------------------------------
Given to Vidor Presbyterian
and in memory of Anna Lee
June 5, 2007
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Year C
Saturday, May 19, 2007
fighting, struggle
Morning Prayer - Daily Office Year 1
Epistle: I Tim. 6:6-21
The writer of 1 Timothy is speaking as Paul to his young protégé, urging him to fight the good fight, to keep his focus and not to get distracted by temptations or contentiousness.
The format of the letter, written as from a teacher to a student and giving advice for leading faithfully in a time of conflict, has similarities to what we’re doing here in the Iona School. Here, some of you are passing on a deposit of faith and learning, and some of us are preparing to carry it forward into an uncertain future.
I feel a little odd preaching to you about it, since it feels like a role-reversal – you all are to me certainly more like Paul than Timothy.
It’s also a bit odd, because a few of the themes here – namely money and conflict - are not ones comfortably addressed in our culture – but a pulpit is still one place where people partly expect and even accept occasionally being bothered about them.
This may be part of my training as a deacon – my rector, Fr. Hugh Magers, seems to feel I have a ways to go in the diaconal gift of irritating people - but there are few things more irritating, I would imagine, than someone – especially a young person - preaching to you about how to view your money, so here we go – forging right ahead.
Warnings about the love of money are particularly adamant in this passage, as in the much-misquoted verse ‘for the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.’ The dangers of falling into this desire are so great, Timothy is told to shun it or flee from it. One commentary noted that this warning is as severe as those against idolotry and sexual immorality and makes this observation: "evidently some threats to piety are so subtle and so powerful that they can be dealt with only by running from them." (New Interpreter’s Bible)
I think this is a very wise defensive tactic – it may look wimpy, but it works really well. I do fencing, and one of the first and most important concepts we learn is keeping distance from your opponent. If you are farther away than your opponent can reach, you don’t get hit. It’s a very simple concept – and the most effective method of defense – just back up – get out of the way.
I think it’s good to know the areas where we’re weak or most likely to have trouble – and this is an area that universally troubles most people – this verse is probably so much quoted and misquoted because the love of money and the pains people pierce themselves with because of it are obvious in society today.
For example, there are unfortunately so many examples of this dynamic at work in our society and in our churches even, that each of us could probably name five or six without having to think hard.
Think of one example and have it in mind -- If the culprit had run away from that temptation, what might be different? Since the culprit didn’t run, what’s remembered: the noble and lonely last stand or the terrible fall?
As well as running from temptation, Timothy is urged to run or chase after a collection of virtues that all complement each other: righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness – and to ‘fight the good fight of the faith.’
Several commentaries noted that the word translated as ‘fight’ comes from the Greek word that gives us ‘agonize.’ It can be translated several ways, including ‘to struggle,’ ‘to contend,’ or ‘to compete’ as in competing for a trophy in a sports event. ‘Compete’ brings out the connotation that living faithfully requires the energy and discipline of a good athlete. (New Interpreter’s Bible) Just as athletes must practice to compete well, anyone struggling to live faithfully needs a disciplined practice as well, and it will take energy and time. ‘Contend’ and ‘fight’ include the idea of an adversary, and people trying to live faithfully certainly face adversaries, but ‘struggle’ is closer here because the meaning is more like perseverance against many kinds of odds than just combat - except that ‘struggle the good struggle’ doesn’t sound right.
This urge to ‘fight the good fight’ seems very relevant to us here, at this time. Last month, Bishop Wimberly met with the deacon candidates, and he talked some about what the church is facing in the next few months and how this intra-Episcopal struggle has been for him. ‘Agonizing’ would probably be a good word. What does it mean for the church if its members are struggling with each other? What might it mean for us in this room, as we begin to carry this struggle forward? It would seem that fights may be a given.
I think in the fact of facing struggles internally and externally, we’re not so different from the communities addressed in many of the letters, including 1 Timothy. Right from the beginning, there was conflict among members of the church, all the way through its history to the present day. These stories offer both perspective and encouragement.
Today, for example, is the lesser feast of St. Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury in the 900s. He was a confessor, among other things. I don’t know much about what being a confessor implies, except that initially, saints were given that title after enduring persecution and torture for confessing their faith rather than recanting it. St. Dunstan’s story also involves falling in and out of favor with a succession of kings and political rulers, but he stayed constant. So there was certainly struggle in his faith practice.
In light of the church’s fairly consistent behavior regarding conflict, it should probably not seem strange that we are going through it now. The issues change, but struggle itself seems fairly constant. The set of issues the Episcopal Church is wrestling with now are not what many would have chosen - I wouldn’t have picked them - but this is the situation we’ve been called to live faithfully in.
Eight years ago when I was confirmed in the Episcopal church, I didn’t know any of this was on the horizon; probably many of us didn’t. I hadn’t planned to consider ordination; the diaconate didn’t even exist in this diocese at the time. Now, a completely uncertain future with many possibilities stretches ahead, and it seems uttlerly overwhelming at times. We are learning enough here to know that there’s a whole lot we don’t know, but also getting inspired enough to want to try and do something anyway.
"Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?" (R. Browning "Andrea del Sarto: Called ‘The Faultless Painter’")
We should struggle to reach goals that are beyond our ability to achieve – like righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness – and we should also trust God to strengthen us, as we ask in the Collect for Renewal of Life: Drive far from us all wrong desires, incline our hearts to keep your law, and guide our feet into the way of peace.
And we should keep our distance from distractions – they’re not ‘the right hill to die on’. When it comes to making stands, we need to be fighting the good fight of the faith and staying away from contentiousness. Let God make up for our weakness in this area with His strength.
I think this is the other part of the message written to Timothy – struggle with all your strength and skill – and wait on the Lord, who will do things according to His plan in His good time.
This is the same dynamic as faith and works, the same as the debate about grace and the law.
We have to learn both to labor and to wait.
---------------------------------------------------
Given to the Iona School for Ministry
May 19, 2007
Epistle: I Tim. 6:6-21
The writer of 1 Timothy is speaking as Paul to his young protégé, urging him to fight the good fight, to keep his focus and not to get distracted by temptations or contentiousness.
The format of the letter, written as from a teacher to a student and giving advice for leading faithfully in a time of conflict, has similarities to what we’re doing here in the Iona School. Here, some of you are passing on a deposit of faith and learning, and some of us are preparing to carry it forward into an uncertain future.
I feel a little odd preaching to you about it, since it feels like a role-reversal – you all are to me certainly more like Paul than Timothy.
It’s also a bit odd, because a few of the themes here – namely money and conflict - are not ones comfortably addressed in our culture – but a pulpit is still one place where people partly expect and even accept occasionally being bothered about them.
This may be part of my training as a deacon – my rector, Fr. Hugh Magers, seems to feel I have a ways to go in the diaconal gift of irritating people - but there are few things more irritating, I would imagine, than someone – especially a young person - preaching to you about how to view your money, so here we go – forging right ahead.
Warnings about the love of money are particularly adamant in this passage, as in the much-misquoted verse ‘for the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.’ The dangers of falling into this desire are so great, Timothy is told to shun it or flee from it. One commentary noted that this warning is as severe as those against idolotry and sexual immorality and makes this observation: "evidently some threats to piety are so subtle and so powerful that they can be dealt with only by running from them." (New Interpreter’s Bible)
I think this is a very wise defensive tactic – it may look wimpy, but it works really well. I do fencing, and one of the first and most important concepts we learn is keeping distance from your opponent. If you are farther away than your opponent can reach, you don’t get hit. It’s a very simple concept – and the most effective method of defense – just back up – get out of the way.
I think it’s good to know the areas where we’re weak or most likely to have trouble – and this is an area that universally troubles most people – this verse is probably so much quoted and misquoted because the love of money and the pains people pierce themselves with because of it are obvious in society today.
For example, there are unfortunately so many examples of this dynamic at work in our society and in our churches even, that each of us could probably name five or six without having to think hard.
Think of one example and have it in mind -- If the culprit had run away from that temptation, what might be different? Since the culprit didn’t run, what’s remembered: the noble and lonely last stand or the terrible fall?
As well as running from temptation, Timothy is urged to run or chase after a collection of virtues that all complement each other: righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness – and to ‘fight the good fight of the faith.’
Several commentaries noted that the word translated as ‘fight’ comes from the Greek word that gives us ‘agonize.’ It can be translated several ways, including ‘to struggle,’ ‘to contend,’ or ‘to compete’ as in competing for a trophy in a sports event. ‘Compete’ brings out the connotation that living faithfully requires the energy and discipline of a good athlete. (New Interpreter’s Bible) Just as athletes must practice to compete well, anyone struggling to live faithfully needs a disciplined practice as well, and it will take energy and time. ‘Contend’ and ‘fight’ include the idea of an adversary, and people trying to live faithfully certainly face adversaries, but ‘struggle’ is closer here because the meaning is more like perseverance against many kinds of odds than just combat - except that ‘struggle the good struggle’ doesn’t sound right.
This urge to ‘fight the good fight’ seems very relevant to us here, at this time. Last month, Bishop Wimberly met with the deacon candidates, and he talked some about what the church is facing in the next few months and how this intra-Episcopal struggle has been for him. ‘Agonizing’ would probably be a good word. What does it mean for the church if its members are struggling with each other? What might it mean for us in this room, as we begin to carry this struggle forward? It would seem that fights may be a given.
I think in the fact of facing struggles internally and externally, we’re not so different from the communities addressed in many of the letters, including 1 Timothy. Right from the beginning, there was conflict among members of the church, all the way through its history to the present day. These stories offer both perspective and encouragement.
Today, for example, is the lesser feast of St. Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury in the 900s. He was a confessor, among other things. I don’t know much about what being a confessor implies, except that initially, saints were given that title after enduring persecution and torture for confessing their faith rather than recanting it. St. Dunstan’s story also involves falling in and out of favor with a succession of kings and political rulers, but he stayed constant. So there was certainly struggle in his faith practice.
In light of the church’s fairly consistent behavior regarding conflict, it should probably not seem strange that we are going through it now. The issues change, but struggle itself seems fairly constant. The set of issues the Episcopal Church is wrestling with now are not what many would have chosen - I wouldn’t have picked them - but this is the situation we’ve been called to live faithfully in.
Eight years ago when I was confirmed in the Episcopal church, I didn’t know any of this was on the horizon; probably many of us didn’t. I hadn’t planned to consider ordination; the diaconate didn’t even exist in this diocese at the time. Now, a completely uncertain future with many possibilities stretches ahead, and it seems uttlerly overwhelming at times. We are learning enough here to know that there’s a whole lot we don’t know, but also getting inspired enough to want to try and do something anyway.
"Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?" (R. Browning "Andrea del Sarto: Called ‘The Faultless Painter’")
We should struggle to reach goals that are beyond our ability to achieve – like righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness – and we should also trust God to strengthen us, as we ask in the Collect for Renewal of Life: Drive far from us all wrong desires, incline our hearts to keep your law, and guide our feet into the way of peace.
And we should keep our distance from distractions – they’re not ‘the right hill to die on’. When it comes to making stands, we need to be fighting the good fight of the faith and staying away from contentiousness. Let God make up for our weakness in this area with His strength.
I think this is the other part of the message written to Timothy – struggle with all your strength and skill – and wait on the Lord, who will do things according to His plan in His good time.
This is the same dynamic as faith and works, the same as the debate about grace and the law.
We have to learn both to labor and to wait.
---------------------------------------------------
Given to the Iona School for Ministry
May 19, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Palm Sunday ("I am with you")
Year C, Palm Sunday
Liturgy of the Palms - Gospel: Luke 19:29-40
Liturgy of the Word - Passion Gospel: Luke 22:39-23:56
At the beginning of this service, we heard about Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. People were singing, "Hosanna!" "Save us!" In the Passion Gospel, this tune changed to "Crucify him!"
The Passion means so many things, but one thing it means is that Jesus knows what it's like to be hurt - really, really hurt. He even knows what it's like to die. One of our beliefs as Christians is that Jesus' suffering and death can offer comfort to us, but it's not perhaps the kind of comfort we'd prefer.
Passion
What does it mean to describe this part of the gospel story as 'the Passion' ?
The way it's most commonly used, you'd think passion means long, slobbery kisses in romance movies. There's nothing like that in this story, though - there's a lot of shouting and hitting and pushing and crying; a man gets his ear cut off, and a whole group of people kill someone who's innocent and a couple other people who are probably guilty, but there are no passionate love scenes.
There is a sense in which passion means love, and so Jesus' Passion also means love, but it's a complicated kind of love. Real love, though it can involve kisses, also often involves tears - pain, sadess, confusion and other very difficult things - that's when the idea of passion gets closer to its real meaning.
The word passion comes from a Latin word that means 'to suffer.' And Jesus suffered - a lot. So it's called the Passion because it's about Jesus' suffering.
Suffering
The fact of suffering is one of the most difficult things we have to deal with in life, both because it hurts so much and because it doesn't make sense. Most of our hardest questions for God have to do with suffering.
Jesus' interactions with different people in the story illustrate, I think, questions people still have about pain.
The soldiers blindfolded Jesus and hit him, saying, 'Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?' It's like they were saying, 'If you're God, you should know everything, so where does pain come from?'
The chief priests and elders say, 'If you are the Messiah, tell us.' Jesus says, 'If I tell you, you will not believe...' I think this mirrors the confusion and frustration many of us feel at the fact that God is not tangible in ways we want or expect him to be, and we have to act so often on faith, hoping in things we can't see.
Even if he thinks they won't believe, why won't he tell them? I think because the whole point of his coming here, the whole point of the Incarnation was not to tell them a message anymore but to show them, because they hadn't been able to believe the message they were told.
Two Criminals
Perhaps the most important interaction occurs between Jesus and the criminals executed with him. One of the criminals questions him sarcastically: 'Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!'
The second criminal denounces him, saying, 'Do you not fear God?' He then says, 'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.'
The first criminal's question is really a hard one. Why would Jesus, if he's God's Son, not use his power to get himself - and us - out of our pain?
I don't fully know the answer.
But I think Jesus' response to the second criminal gives us some idea. 'Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.'
It seems to me these two criminals are both saying essentially the same thing - the same thing everyone had been shouting on the way into Jerusalem the week before - "Save us!" They, and the crowd, and Pilate and the chief priests and elders and everyone else there, and we today, all want relief.
What relief?
What relief does Jesus' suffering offer for our suffering?
I think the 23rd Psalm, which has so often provided comfort in sorrow, offers part of the answer, and one passage particularly: "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me."
One message of Jesus' Passion was this: I am with you .... I am with you in your suffering.
There is no attempt to answer our 'Why?' with any sort of 'Because...' He simply says, 'I am with you.'
The meaning of compassion, literally, is to 'suffer with' someone. Their pain is your pain. Because of his Passion, his suffering, Jesus is able to have true compassion for us, to suffer with us - our pain is his pain. I am with you in your suffering.
The corollary comes next week, at Easter, when we say that his victory and his joy will also be ours - I am with you in suffering, and you will be with me in Paradise.
In the film, Shadowlands, about the life of C.S. Lewis and particularly his marriage to Joy Gresham, Joy contracts cancer not long after they get married. Though she is dying, there are periods of relative health, and during one of these, they go on a belated honeymoon. While on a walk in the countryside, it begins to rain and they run for cover under an awning. Joy turns to Lewis and begins to talk about what will happen when she dies; she wants him to look after her son. He doesn't want to talk about it, though. A minute before, they had been laughing, and it had almost seemed possible in that moment for him to forget she was dying.
'Don't spoil it,' he says.
'It doesn't spoil it,' she says. 'It makes it real. The pain then is part of the happiness now.'
I think that is also part of the message of the Passion.
God is with us in suffering - and we will be with him in Paradise.
The pain now is part of the happiness then. It doesn't spoil it. It makes it real.
Amen.
----------------------------------
Given to Vidor Presbyterian
Palm Sunday, 2007
Liturgy of the Palms - Gospel: Luke 19:29-40
Liturgy of the Word - Passion Gospel: Luke 22:39-23:56
At the beginning of this service, we heard about Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. People were singing, "Hosanna!" "Save us!" In the Passion Gospel, this tune changed to "Crucify him!"
The Passion means so many things, but one thing it means is that Jesus knows what it's like to be hurt - really, really hurt. He even knows what it's like to die. One of our beliefs as Christians is that Jesus' suffering and death can offer comfort to us, but it's not perhaps the kind of comfort we'd prefer.
Passion
What does it mean to describe this part of the gospel story as 'the Passion' ?
The way it's most commonly used, you'd think passion means long, slobbery kisses in romance movies. There's nothing like that in this story, though - there's a lot of shouting and hitting and pushing and crying; a man gets his ear cut off, and a whole group of people kill someone who's innocent and a couple other people who are probably guilty, but there are no passionate love scenes.
There is a sense in which passion means love, and so Jesus' Passion also means love, but it's a complicated kind of love. Real love, though it can involve kisses, also often involves tears - pain, sadess, confusion and other very difficult things - that's when the idea of passion gets closer to its real meaning.
The word passion comes from a Latin word that means 'to suffer.' And Jesus suffered - a lot. So it's called the Passion because it's about Jesus' suffering.
Suffering
The fact of suffering is one of the most difficult things we have to deal with in life, both because it hurts so much and because it doesn't make sense. Most of our hardest questions for God have to do with suffering.
Jesus' interactions with different people in the story illustrate, I think, questions people still have about pain.
The soldiers blindfolded Jesus and hit him, saying, 'Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?' It's like they were saying, 'If you're God, you should know everything, so where does pain come from?'
The chief priests and elders say, 'If you are the Messiah, tell us.' Jesus says, 'If I tell you, you will not believe...' I think this mirrors the confusion and frustration many of us feel at the fact that God is not tangible in ways we want or expect him to be, and we have to act so often on faith, hoping in things we can't see.
Even if he thinks they won't believe, why won't he tell them? I think because the whole point of his coming here, the whole point of the Incarnation was not to tell them a message anymore but to show them, because they hadn't been able to believe the message they were told.
Two Criminals
Perhaps the most important interaction occurs between Jesus and the criminals executed with him. One of the criminals questions him sarcastically: 'Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!'
The second criminal denounces him, saying, 'Do you not fear God?' He then says, 'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.'
The first criminal's question is really a hard one. Why would Jesus, if he's God's Son, not use his power to get himself - and us - out of our pain?
I don't fully know the answer.
But I think Jesus' response to the second criminal gives us some idea. 'Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.'
It seems to me these two criminals are both saying essentially the same thing - the same thing everyone had been shouting on the way into Jerusalem the week before - "Save us!" They, and the crowd, and Pilate and the chief priests and elders and everyone else there, and we today, all want relief.
What relief?
What relief does Jesus' suffering offer for our suffering?
I think the 23rd Psalm, which has so often provided comfort in sorrow, offers part of the answer, and one passage particularly: "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me."
One message of Jesus' Passion was this: I am with you .... I am with you in your suffering.
There is no attempt to answer our 'Why?' with any sort of 'Because...' He simply says, 'I am with you.'
The meaning of compassion, literally, is to 'suffer with' someone. Their pain is your pain. Because of his Passion, his suffering, Jesus is able to have true compassion for us, to suffer with us - our pain is his pain. I am with you in your suffering.
The corollary comes next week, at Easter, when we say that his victory and his joy will also be ours - I am with you in suffering, and you will be with me in Paradise.
In the film, Shadowlands, about the life of C.S. Lewis and particularly his marriage to Joy Gresham, Joy contracts cancer not long after they get married. Though she is dying, there are periods of relative health, and during one of these, they go on a belated honeymoon. While on a walk in the countryside, it begins to rain and they run for cover under an awning. Joy turns to Lewis and begins to talk about what will happen when she dies; she wants him to look after her son. He doesn't want to talk about it, though. A minute before, they had been laughing, and it had almost seemed possible in that moment for him to forget she was dying.
'Don't spoil it,' he says.
'It doesn't spoil it,' she says. 'It makes it real. The pain then is part of the happiness now.'
I think that is also part of the message of the Passion.
God is with us in suffering - and we will be with him in Paradise.
The pain now is part of the happiness then. It doesn't spoil it. It makes it real.
Amen.
----------------------------------
Given to Vidor Presbyterian
Palm Sunday, 2007
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Year C
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Peter's obedience
Year C, Epiphany 5
Gospel: Luke 5:1-11
In this passage, obedience opens up the way for miracles.
This is a powerful story about Jesus calling people to join him in mission. In the last and most recognized part of this story, Jesus tells Simon that he will make him a fisher of men, and they leave everything to follow him.
But leading up to that moment, Simon and his crew make some crucial choices, based purely on obedience, before they realize who Jesus is. Those acts of obedience open up the way for Jesus to do something miraculous.
View from the Crew
There are several people in this story besides Jesus and Simon Peter.
Sometimes, a good way to understand what’s happening in a situation is to mentally put yourself in the place of somebody who was there – Did you ever see those videos in history class, with Walter Cronkite narrating: “It’s 1776 at the signing of the Declaration of Independence and You are there!”
Well, imagine you are a crewmember on Simon’s boat. “It’s 30 AD, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee as Jesus calls his first disciples – and You are there...”
It’s just turning to evening as you join Simon and the rest of the crew in the boat. Simon’s boat is about 20 feet long, wooden, and smells like fish – so does Simon, and so do you.
Simon’s partners, James and John and their crew, are fishing in their father’s boat. Both boats put into the water as the stars are coming out. Fishing is a quiet kind of work; there’s no need to talk, really, and you don’t want to scare the fish.
It’s a long night, throwing the net out, pulling it back in – and catching nothing. Over and over: throw it out, pull it back – nothing, throw it out, pull it back – nothing. Simon steers the boat from one favorite spot to another, and every one of them turns up dry tonight.
The sky begins to get grey, and still no catch. You can see the other boat a ways off, and they’re sitting high in the water, too. This whole night is going to be worthless if you don’t catch something soon. Throw the net out; pull it back – nothing.
Finally, with the sun up, Simon gives the signal, and you pull back in to shore. Total catch for the night – nothing. The fish must have found a good hiding place. Everybody starts washing out the nets.
Nearby, a lot of people are gathered around a man who’s talking. He starts walking over, with the people following him. Apparently, he knows Simon; he gets in the boat and asks him something. Simon looks over and motions the crew back in the boat. What’s this about?
Simon says to row out a little ways from the shore. The crowd on the shore moves closer to the water. Then Simon says to drop anchor. The man sits down in the stern, facing the shore and starts talking. Apparently, he’s a teacher or a preacher, and from the size of the crowd, he must be popular.
How does he know Simon? And how long is he going to talk? You’d like to get home. It’s been a long night.
Simon looks tired and slightly irritated. This is not a time to ask.
The man finishes his talk and then motions to Simon. You hear him ask Simon to put out further and drop the nets.
Simon’s patience is visibly waning. “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing...”
“Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
The man looks at Simon. Simon looks at you.
You’re thinking, ‘Who is this guy getting in your boat and telling you how to fish?’ He glares back and motions to throw out the net. Whatever. Now is clearly not the time to ask, but later, Simon’s going to have to explain this.
You throw out the net.
And the rest is history. The nets came up so full that they started to break. The crew had to signal the other boat, and they filled both boats so full they started to sink. Everyone was amazed, and Simon didn’t have to explain anything. It was obvious that this teacher had much more authority than they realized, and not just about fishing. When they got back to the shore, they left everything and followed him.
Simon’s obedience (twice)
In the most dramatic part of this story, Simon falls down in front of Jesus, recognizing him as Lord after seeing this miraculous catch of fish. Then, Jesus tells him not to be afraid, that he will become a fisher of men.
Though the catch is the dramatic part, I think what leads up to the catch is just as important, if not more so. What I’m talking about is Simon Peter’s obedience, and also his crew’s obedience.
When Jesus got in Peter’s boat and asked him to put out a little ways so he could teach the people, Peter and his crew did it. Perhaps he did it as a favor, recalling that Jesus had just healed his mother-in-law. Perhaps he did it partly out of respect because Jesus was a teacher.
When Jesus was finished teaching, he asked Peter to do something else – something that didn’t make sense and wasn’t really called for.
Jesus asks Peter to put out into deeper water and throw out the nets for a catch. Peter may have been willing to do Jesus the first favor out of a sense of respect or gratitude, but with this second request, he was stepping into Peter’s territory.
For Jesus to be authoritative in teaching about the Law was one thing, but for Jesus to tell Peter how to fish seemed to be overstepping his bounds.
You can probably think of someone you know who is an expert in everything. No matter what the topic is, they know all about it, even if they don’t. They’ll argue with someone who really is an expert. What do you do? To argue back will just make you crazy; but to let them go on is just as bad.
The issue is who really has authority on the subject. It would seem Peter, the fisherman, should be the authority on fishing, not Jesus, the teacher/carpenter. But Jesus was also God, and having been present at creation to make the sea, the fish and Peter himself, he was actually a much higher authority on the subject.
Peter, despite appearances, decides to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt. He explains that they’ve already tried what Jesus suggests and failed, “yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
This is obedience.
Obedience
Obedience is doing what you’re told, not because you want to or because it makes sense or you feel it’s likely to work, but because the person who tells you has authority, and you submit to it.
This concept undergirds all military endeavors; the military depends on clear authority structures and prompt, complete obedience. The idea of obedience is not a popular one in our culture of independence, though. Even the army now has changed its slogan - An Army of One – to reflect our culture’s obsession with individuality.
But we’re starting to see that an excess of individuality, when it becomes a primary good and doesn’t ever bow to the idea of a ‘greater good,’ causes society to deteriorate.
The Church is not an army of one. The Church is a Body with many parts, governed by Christ as its head. When the parts of the body do things on their own, without the head’s direction, it causes problems for the whole body.
I recently learned a bit about Huntington’s Disease, which is similar to Parkinson’s – in this condition, the nerves begin sending signals to the muscles at random times. The result is jerky movements that make it hard for the person to speak clearly, walk straight, eat, or move without bumping things. The person’s thinking is clear; it’s not a disorder of the brain. You could say it’s an obedience problem in the nerves. The nerves send out their own orders to the muscles, without the brain’s direction, and the result is chaotic movement and frustration for the person trying to live in his body while it’s doing its own thing instead of what he’s telling it to do.
When we as the Church focus on self-actualization rather than developing a good ear for hearing Christ’s direction and a quick response of obedience, the result is chaotic movement within the body and Christ getting frustrated that his Body parts are all trying to do their own thing rather than cooperating.
Obedience has nothing to do with how I feel, or what I think; it has everything to do with knowing who’s in authority over me and accepting that direction, regardless. I can express my concerns, my doubts, my outright objections, but if I do it anyway, that’s still obedience, and that’s what’s crucial to being someone God can work with.
God calls people individually, and he knows us each by name, but we can only collaborate with His larger purposes if we obey Him. What Peter and his crew and the partners in the other boat saw that day with the miraculous catch of fish was that Jesus had authority over their world. And it was their obedience, even when they didn’t yet know the extent of his authority, that put them in a position to see this.
There will most likely be times in your life when you’re told to do something that you don’t want to do or that doesn’t make sense or that you don’t think will work. In those situations, you need to discern, not the wisdom of the order, but who’s giving it. Remember the game ‘Simon says...’ If Simon says, you do it. If Simon doesn’t say, don’t do it or you lose that game. If the order is authoritative, then do it. It may open up the possibility of something miraculous.
Jesus told Simon, ‘Let down your nets for a catch.’ Simon objected, but he obeyed, and his crew obeyed him also. That’s why we’re here today. Because these fishermen obeyed Jesus’ directions for catching fish, he taught them to catch people, and they taught the people they caught, until now we’ve been caught and hauled into the boat to fish for others. That’s pretty miraculous.
---------------------------------------
Given to Vidor Presbyterian
Feb. 4, 2007
Gospel: Luke 5:1-11
In this passage, obedience opens up the way for miracles.
This is a powerful story about Jesus calling people to join him in mission. In the last and most recognized part of this story, Jesus tells Simon that he will make him a fisher of men, and they leave everything to follow him.
But leading up to that moment, Simon and his crew make some crucial choices, based purely on obedience, before they realize who Jesus is. Those acts of obedience open up the way for Jesus to do something miraculous.
View from the Crew
There are several people in this story besides Jesus and Simon Peter.
Sometimes, a good way to understand what’s happening in a situation is to mentally put yourself in the place of somebody who was there – Did you ever see those videos in history class, with Walter Cronkite narrating: “It’s 1776 at the signing of the Declaration of Independence and You are there!”
Well, imagine you are a crewmember on Simon’s boat. “It’s 30 AD, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee as Jesus calls his first disciples – and You are there...”
It’s just turning to evening as you join Simon and the rest of the crew in the boat. Simon’s boat is about 20 feet long, wooden, and smells like fish – so does Simon, and so do you.
Simon’s partners, James and John and their crew, are fishing in their father’s boat. Both boats put into the water as the stars are coming out. Fishing is a quiet kind of work; there’s no need to talk, really, and you don’t want to scare the fish.
It’s a long night, throwing the net out, pulling it back in – and catching nothing. Over and over: throw it out, pull it back – nothing, throw it out, pull it back – nothing. Simon steers the boat from one favorite spot to another, and every one of them turns up dry tonight.
The sky begins to get grey, and still no catch. You can see the other boat a ways off, and they’re sitting high in the water, too. This whole night is going to be worthless if you don’t catch something soon. Throw the net out; pull it back – nothing.
Finally, with the sun up, Simon gives the signal, and you pull back in to shore. Total catch for the night – nothing. The fish must have found a good hiding place. Everybody starts washing out the nets.
Nearby, a lot of people are gathered around a man who’s talking. He starts walking over, with the people following him. Apparently, he knows Simon; he gets in the boat and asks him something. Simon looks over and motions the crew back in the boat. What’s this about?
Simon says to row out a little ways from the shore. The crowd on the shore moves closer to the water. Then Simon says to drop anchor. The man sits down in the stern, facing the shore and starts talking. Apparently, he’s a teacher or a preacher, and from the size of the crowd, he must be popular.
How does he know Simon? And how long is he going to talk? You’d like to get home. It’s been a long night.
Simon looks tired and slightly irritated. This is not a time to ask.
The man finishes his talk and then motions to Simon. You hear him ask Simon to put out further and drop the nets.
Simon’s patience is visibly waning. “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing...”
“Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
The man looks at Simon. Simon looks at you.
You’re thinking, ‘Who is this guy getting in your boat and telling you how to fish?’ He glares back and motions to throw out the net. Whatever. Now is clearly not the time to ask, but later, Simon’s going to have to explain this.
You throw out the net.
And the rest is history. The nets came up so full that they started to break. The crew had to signal the other boat, and they filled both boats so full they started to sink. Everyone was amazed, and Simon didn’t have to explain anything. It was obvious that this teacher had much more authority than they realized, and not just about fishing. When they got back to the shore, they left everything and followed him.
Simon’s obedience (twice)
In the most dramatic part of this story, Simon falls down in front of Jesus, recognizing him as Lord after seeing this miraculous catch of fish. Then, Jesus tells him not to be afraid, that he will become a fisher of men.
Though the catch is the dramatic part, I think what leads up to the catch is just as important, if not more so. What I’m talking about is Simon Peter’s obedience, and also his crew’s obedience.
When Jesus got in Peter’s boat and asked him to put out a little ways so he could teach the people, Peter and his crew did it. Perhaps he did it as a favor, recalling that Jesus had just healed his mother-in-law. Perhaps he did it partly out of respect because Jesus was a teacher.
When Jesus was finished teaching, he asked Peter to do something else – something that didn’t make sense and wasn’t really called for.
Jesus asks Peter to put out into deeper water and throw out the nets for a catch. Peter may have been willing to do Jesus the first favor out of a sense of respect or gratitude, but with this second request, he was stepping into Peter’s territory.
For Jesus to be authoritative in teaching about the Law was one thing, but for Jesus to tell Peter how to fish seemed to be overstepping his bounds.
You can probably think of someone you know who is an expert in everything. No matter what the topic is, they know all about it, even if they don’t. They’ll argue with someone who really is an expert. What do you do? To argue back will just make you crazy; but to let them go on is just as bad.
The issue is who really has authority on the subject. It would seem Peter, the fisherman, should be the authority on fishing, not Jesus, the teacher/carpenter. But Jesus was also God, and having been present at creation to make the sea, the fish and Peter himself, he was actually a much higher authority on the subject.
Peter, despite appearances, decides to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt. He explains that they’ve already tried what Jesus suggests and failed, “yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
This is obedience.
Obedience
Obedience is doing what you’re told, not because you want to or because it makes sense or you feel it’s likely to work, but because the person who tells you has authority, and you submit to it.
This concept undergirds all military endeavors; the military depends on clear authority structures and prompt, complete obedience. The idea of obedience is not a popular one in our culture of independence, though. Even the army now has changed its slogan - An Army of One – to reflect our culture’s obsession with individuality.
But we’re starting to see that an excess of individuality, when it becomes a primary good and doesn’t ever bow to the idea of a ‘greater good,’ causes society to deteriorate.
The Church is not an army of one. The Church is a Body with many parts, governed by Christ as its head. When the parts of the body do things on their own, without the head’s direction, it causes problems for the whole body.
I recently learned a bit about Huntington’s Disease, which is similar to Parkinson’s – in this condition, the nerves begin sending signals to the muscles at random times. The result is jerky movements that make it hard for the person to speak clearly, walk straight, eat, or move without bumping things. The person’s thinking is clear; it’s not a disorder of the brain. You could say it’s an obedience problem in the nerves. The nerves send out their own orders to the muscles, without the brain’s direction, and the result is chaotic movement and frustration for the person trying to live in his body while it’s doing its own thing instead of what he’s telling it to do.
When we as the Church focus on self-actualization rather than developing a good ear for hearing Christ’s direction and a quick response of obedience, the result is chaotic movement within the body and Christ getting frustrated that his Body parts are all trying to do their own thing rather than cooperating.
Obedience has nothing to do with how I feel, or what I think; it has everything to do with knowing who’s in authority over me and accepting that direction, regardless. I can express my concerns, my doubts, my outright objections, but if I do it anyway, that’s still obedience, and that’s what’s crucial to being someone God can work with.
God calls people individually, and he knows us each by name, but we can only collaborate with His larger purposes if we obey Him. What Peter and his crew and the partners in the other boat saw that day with the miraculous catch of fish was that Jesus had authority over their world. And it was their obedience, even when they didn’t yet know the extent of his authority, that put them in a position to see this.
There will most likely be times in your life when you’re told to do something that you don’t want to do or that doesn’t make sense or that you don’t think will work. In those situations, you need to discern, not the wisdom of the order, but who’s giving it. Remember the game ‘Simon says...’ If Simon says, you do it. If Simon doesn’t say, don’t do it or you lose that game. If the order is authoritative, then do it. It may open up the possibility of something miraculous.
Jesus told Simon, ‘Let down your nets for a catch.’ Simon objected, but he obeyed, and his crew obeyed him also. That’s why we’re here today. Because these fishermen obeyed Jesus’ directions for catching fish, he taught them to catch people, and they taught the people they caught, until now we’ve been caught and hauled into the boat to fish for others. That’s pretty miraculous.
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Given to Vidor Presbyterian
Feb. 4, 2007
Labels:
authority,
calling the disciples,
fishing,
Huntington's disease,
Jesus,
obedience,
Peter,
Vidor Presbyterian,
Year C
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