Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts

Sunday, January 17, 2010

What is that to you and me?

 2nd Sunday after the Epiphany, Year C
Jesus, you turned huge vats of water into wine for a wedding feast – and you gave your own blood as wine for us to drink: May we not limit how you choose to answer our needs. Amen.

"They have no wine."

Jesus and his mother have been invited to a wedding in Cana, a few miles from where they live – maybe like from Silsbee to Lumberton. His disciples are there, too. Everybody's talking, dancing, celebrating - doing whatever people do at wedding parties in Galilee in the first century. They're drinking, we know that – because at some point, the wine runs out. And this is not a good thing.

In five or ten, maybe fifteen minutes, however long it takes for a few people to ask for refills and notice that they're not getting any - the guests are going to realize the problem. And when that happens, word will start to circulate; people will start complaining, making snide remarks, and then they'll start to leave  early...
At some point, the groom will figure out what's happening, but by then, he's already toast. Later, or maybe right then, he'll yell at the steward for not ordering enough wine, and the steward will smack the servants for not making it last longer. But that won't change the fact that the groom has been totally humiliated in front of his new wife and all of her family and her family's friends and all of his family and their friends: in short, everybody they both know and some people they don't… On the day of his wedding! When his family is trying to IMPRESS everyone, not give them a reason to laugh at him.
Maybe his wife will forgive him… Maybe. But do you think his in-laws will let him forget? Ever?


But all of that is five or ten, maybe fifteen minutes in the future...
Right now, at this moment, only the servants know – and Mary.
How does Mary know? Maybe she's one of those people who pays attention to things other people don't notice, like an expression of concern on a servant's face when he pours her what seems to be the last of the wine in his jug. Who knows, but anyway, she notices the problem before the rest of the guests know. And what does she do? She goes over to her son and taps him on the shoulder, "They have no wine."

The implication seems to be "so do something."
But how does Jesus respond?
"Woman, what is that to you and me?"


It's true, Jesus is God's son, but there may be a lot he hasn't learned yet about being human – at least not from personal experience. The word is, he emptied himself completely to become completely one of us, which may have meant he had to learn how to see out of our eyes. Becoming like us in every way except sin may have meant he had to learn, like anyone else, how to read people and interpret situations. So, at 30 years old, sitting at a wedding a few miles from his home, maybe Jesus wasn't looking far enough into that statement "They have no wine" to see what it could mean in terms of someone else's humiliation – and maybe his experience at that point in his life hadn't led him to fully understand yet what kind of suffering humiliation might be, such that it would be worth stopping, even if it wasn't directly his concern.


He will certainly learn... Give him a few years, and he'll learn all about human nature's capacity to brutalize and humiliate and tear each other to pieces. And he'll also learn how people can wash their hands of another's suffering when it seems not to be their concern.


But now, eating with his friends at a party, before his ministry has become public, before he's become anybody's hero – or anybody's villian, it may be that his mother knows a bit more than he does about the experience of human suffering and humiliation. It's one more thing – maybe one last thing, she teaches him.
Who more than Mary would know about humiliation – and the powerless anger that comes with it - to be talked about all over the place, to have the conversation stop when you walk up, to know people are saying and assuming all kinds of things about you that you have no chance to refute. Certainly it was a blessing that the angel explained the plan to Joseph, but I doubt the rest of the town was informed.


Humiliation is so awful, a lot of people would prefer death. "I wish I could just curl up and die!" Really, if you think about it, you only have to die once, and it's over with. But humiliation can go on and on... Nine months must have been an eternity for Mary. What she went through must have made her sensitive to others' humiliation – and perhaps here at the wedding, she taught her son to see it too.


"Woman, what is that to you and to me?" It was nothing to him; why should it be anything to her? But for some reason it was something to her. She didn't say another word to him, just turned to the servants; "Do whatever he tells you." And why should anyone have listened to her? – except sometimes, you can just feel that something serious is at stake, something you don't understand but you know you'd better respect. So he says, "Fill the jars with water" - and they fill them.


Maybe Jesus didn't completely know where his mom was coming from, but he loved her and respected her well enough to listen and do something, if only because it was a concern to her. And maybe this was about more than just wine.


Nowhere in the text does it say this, but I imagine Mary taking Jesus aside later and saying, "Son, there's a lot you don't know about what we went through with you..."


I don't know if that's a conversation that ever took place, but somehow he learned to recognize and show compassion for people who were being humiliated. Think about how he treated the Samaritan woman he met at the well, or the woman caught in adultery who officials pushed in front of him in the temple. Remember how he responded to Nicodemus, who crept in at night to see Jesus for fear of what his colleagues might say. To all of these people, Jesus explained that God's not out to punish and shame us; we've all been hurt and made mistakes, and God loves us and wants to make us well. That's the point. This is a hospital for sick people, not Survivor Island. "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." (John 3:17)


Making wine out of water - that's impressive, and no doubt the groom WAS impressed. But I imagine what he appreciated more was being saved from humiliation and being given the chance to start his marriage on a high note. This first of Jesus' miraculous signs not only shows God's abundant, extravagant provision for our needs, even seemingly insignificant ones – it also shows God's compassion, pointing to the nature of God's love – which is often characterized as 'loving-kindness."


This miraculous sign happened at a wedding, and I think there's something to notice about that, too. More important that wine, in long-term relationships, is kindness. Loving feelings fade out at times; what makes relationships last and grow stronger are loving actions – and love often takes the form of kindness. It's difficult to be kind when you're irritated, but at those times it's more important than ever. Kindness is one of the fruits of the spirit, like love. But love can be hard to grasp at times. Kindness is more concrete. Like outreach. It's not directly love, but it's certainly moving in that direction.


After his resurrection, when Jesus and his disciples were having breakfast on the beach, Jesus asked Peter, "Do you love me?" And Peter said "Yes."
Jesus told him, "Feed my sheep."
Then Jesus asked him again, and a third time, "Do you love me?"
"Lord, you know I love you."
"Feed my sheep."


Peter had gotten past the first major obstacle, learning not to just love himself, but to love God, and Jesus was trying to move him from there to also love his neighbor, and he was teaching Peter in the same way his mother had taught him.
"Peter, maybe you don't love them – you don't have concern for them, but you love me – and I have concern for them. So for my sake, look after them, feed them." 


In other words, folks, be kind to each other here.
In other words, when you see someone else's need or suffering, don't ask, "What concern is that to you and me?" Instead, remember your love for Jesus, and "Whatever he tells you, do."


Amen
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Given to St. John's, Silsbee - Jan 17, 2010

Saturday, March 01, 2008

Third Word

"Woman, behold your son." ... "Behold your mother."

Did you ever try to comfort a child who's upset because their pet died? Parents sometimes try this:
"We'll get you another fish..." "I don't want another fish! I want my fish!"
Similar is not the same.

'Better' is also not the same. 'Better' even if it is better, mainly just feels 'different' at first, and 'different' feels about the same as 'bad.'
People sometimes tell parents who are marrying off their daughter and watching her leave home and move away, "Don't think of it as losing a daughter; think of it as gaining a son."
Maybe in the future, they'll have a great relationship with the son-in-law also and maybe grandkids who bring a lot of joy to their lives, and that will even be better, but there's no way to know at the time how it will be in the future.

What about a mother sending her son off for military service?
You can see the group of them walking through the airport - him, his mom, his younger sister and his good friend from school.
He's in his uniform, has a bag, really short hair. They come up to the line for security. He sets his bag on the floor. They're all looking at him. He leans down and hugs his mom; her eyes are starting to well up. She shakes her head; she can't say anything.
He looks over at his friend and back at her.
"Mom, Jake's your son now, till I get back. Take care of her, man."
He picks up his bag and walks over to the line, shows his ticket and ID, puts his bag on the conveyor belt and walks through. On the other side, he picks it up, looks back, waves, and goes through the revolving door. They're standing there watching him. She's really crying now. The friend steps up and puts his hand on her shoulder.

What do you say to her?
"Don't think of it as putting your son in danger; think of it as protecting our nation."
It doesn't matter whether or not that's true. It doesn't change the grief and fear of letting him go.

Mary stood, looking up at her son. He says to her, 'Woman, behold your son," and to his friend and disciple, "Behold your mother."
Mary doesn't speak. But what may her heart have been saying?

YOU are my son; I don't want another son.

Don't think of it as losing your son, Mary;
think of it as gaining the whole world...

I don't want the whole world -

I want my son.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Joseph was a good man

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.


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Given to St. John's, Silsbee

Dec. 23, 2007