What kind of boat are we in?

Readings

As you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you, Eternal Father, strong to save Amen.

I'm glad we sang the Navy Hymn this morning - because today we're going to talk about boats - and baptism

Our first reading recounts the story of Noah and the flood. And then our Epistle reading, from 1 Peter, gives an interpretation that Noah's rescue from the flood pre-figures baptism, which is a rescue from death through water.

In many churches, the baptismal font is right by the door into the nave, because it's through the waters of baptism that we enter the community of the church.
And "nave" - the area where everyone sits - comes from the same root as 'navy' and relates to boats. The idea being that the church is like Noah's ark, and in it we're being saved from chaos and destruction.
In ancient literature of the near east, a large body of water was a frightening thing - chaotic, unpredictable. 

It's an early part of Hebrew and later of Christian theology to show God having more power that the chaotic forces of the sea. In Genesis, the very first image we have is of the spirit of God moving over the face of the deep, and God speaking into the formless void and creating order and life out of that chaos. In the Gospels, Jesus also is shown exhibiting this kind of authority over chaos - he calms a storm and walks on the water.

Through God's transformative power, what was wild, unpredictable, and destructive becomes a path to salvation. This is the water of baptism - still - we are pulled out from the water like we're being saved from drowning.

Imagine you've fallen into the ocean, waves tumbling you around - you can't breath; you're freezing - you know you're going to die. Suddenly something is tugging on you; strong hands catch hold of your coat and haul you up out of the water. Dripping, choking and sputtering, you feel the deck underneath you.

That's one metaphor that the church has for itself - one way of thinking about what this community is: a boat - into which all kinds of people have been rescued.
Look around - what a scraggly bunch of castaways we are!
And this boat - is it going to hold us?

The Rev. Melanie Barbarito shared a great analogy once that I like, comparing people in churches to people aboard a cruise ship versus a battleship. On a cruise ship, there are crew and passengers; the crew do all the work, and the passengers buy a ticket to come aboard and enjoy themselves - the whole point of the endeavor is the passengers' enjoyment of the ride - that's what the crew are there to ensure, etc. 

On a working ship, though, everyone has a job to do, and all of it's necessary. Everyone shares the same mission - nobody is just along for the ride

Her point, of course, is what kind of ship do you think you're sailing on? And what's your role?

It's best not to push an analogy too far, but it could also be interesting to consider other types of ships - not just a battleship but other kinds of working ships or pleasure ships.

What kinds of churches have you sailed with?

• An aircraft carrier - a huge, tightly regulated, interconnected complex, sending out missions in all directions
• Maybe a research vessel - a small group with a specific question, studying it in great detail
• What about a ferry - a crowded bunch of strangers just trying to get from here to there - from earth to heaven
• A search and rescue ship, going out specifically to look for people in distress, with specially-designed tools for responding
• Possibly you've been on a submarine - a close community that goes to great lengths to insulate itself, poking its periscope up occasionally to look out at the world
• Maybe you've tried to be a church by yourself - sailing around in a kayak
• And there are tons of other possibilities: pirate ships, shrimp boats, hospital ships, glass-bottomed tour boats, canoes, tall ships, house boats...

Take a minute to think about it - what church did you first find yourself on the deck of when you were hauled out of the water of baptism? 
What other churches have you sailed with? 

And what about us? What kind of ship are we?

If this image is a helpful one for you, then try to think of what your role is on this ship's crew - or what it could be. What skills or gifts do you have that fit with the mission - or how can you help the others on board?

After our Ashes to Go experiment this past Wednesday, I think someone needs to go up on deck at least occasionally and just scan the water - you might see a hand sticking up - "not waving but drowning" - the world is still at times a wild, confusing tumult to be dropped into.

Let's keep in prayer our little boat - and all the boats at sea - both the literal and figurative ones. 

O hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril on the sea.

Fermentation

Proper 25

Readings: 

Jeremiah 31:7-9

Psalm 126 

Hebrews 7:23-28

Mark 10:46-52

May those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, come again with joy shouldering their sheaves.

Jeremiah and the Psalm today are both talking about the same thing - when God's people return from exile. It was an unbelievable end to a horrific, long ordeal. To hear about it, read the first 28 chapters of Jeremiah.
It might be something like POWs coming home after years in captivity - or like this:

It's striking, some of the words that describe the people's joy in returning - a big mix of emotion:

"Sing aloud with gladness... and say 'Save, O Lord, your people...' With weeping they shall come, and with consolations I will lead them back..."

"When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy"

One person's comments on this passage noted how the Psalmist describes his or her mouth "filled with laughter" - as if it burst out involuntarily. Has anything like this happened to you before? Not so much that you laugh, like you would at a joke, when you are planning on it, but - suddenly and unexpectedly - your mouth is filled with laughter?
In grief or pain, we're often not prepared for joy.

The opposite seems similar in a way. In a time of joy, the pain you have been experiencing but holding at bay to pace yourself suddenly erupts because that pain or separation may finally be ending. If you are familiar with Nelson and Winnie Mandela's story, you may realize that the picture above is not one of joy, simply, but that it's much more complicated. When joy suddenly appears, it carries with it everything that came before. I saw a video of a reunion between one of the Lost Boys of Sudan and his mother. She was so overwhelmed - it seemed like more emotion than her body could contain, and she fell on the floor weeping. Why? Wasn't she happy to see him? Of course, but there's a lot more to it... it's complicated.

Experiences of pain, grief, loss, suffering - these can crush us in ways that change us internally. We are not the same, so experiencing joy afterwards is also not the same - it can be a complex mixture of things - or something else not defined by the simple words we have.

This kind of complex mix of emotions is, I think, what Jeremiah is describing when the people will come back to their homeland after several generations in exile and captivity: shouts of joy, weeping, laughter, consolations...

Last time, I talked about the crumple zone of a car allowing for a controlled crush in a life-threatening crisis.
Another form of controlled destruction is the process of

fermentation.

How is cheese different from milk?


...kimchi or saurkraut from cabbage?

... wine from grapes?


Fermentation or pickling is a controlled process of decay that changes the nature of the food. Somewhat counter-intuitively, this controlled decay actually makes the food more stable - and in many ways is considered to enhance it.

However - it would not seem that way if you were the grape.

Imagine that you've blossomed out into the sun and started growing, soaking up gentle rain, becoming sweet and radiant.

Then a hand pulls you off the vine...
You're disconnected and disoriented. And the next thing you know, you're getting the guts stomped out of you...

Then it's into a barrel - locked away in the dark.
For YEARS
where it's silent and cold...

Making bread is also a controlled process of destruction and fermentation, but instead of going into the dark and cold, it's baked in a fire.

The grain is picked, crushed, even ground into powder sometimes. Then it is mixed with things and given as food for bacteria.
As it swells, it gets punched back down and then thrown in an oven.


If you are feeling like you're getting the life stomped out of you or shut up silently in a dark night of the soul - or you're being pounded and crushed, eaten from inside, and put through a fire, see if the metaphor of fermentation has any resonance for you.This may be a way you can ask God about it - whether the process of destruction you're experiencing is one of fermentation, one that he is in control of. If so, try to allow yourself to be changed, accepting that you can't go back.

This may also be a way to engage the gift of the Eucharist. Knowing what has to happen for grain to become bread and for fruit to become wine, what does it mean for Jesus to give us these gifts and say

"This is my body"

"This is my blood"

Quick to listen, Slow to speak

Lord, when we're asked to speak, give us wisdom in what we say - and when we hear things we don't understand, help us to be quiet and listen.

There is an important balance to listening and speaking. People who speak and people who listen each participate, but, when it comes to teaching or public speaking, the speaker is judged more strictly - it's a big responsibility.

Almighty God, you proclaim your truth in every age by many voices: Direct, in our time, we pray, those who speak where many listen and write what many read; that they may do their part in making the heart of this people wise, its mind sound, and its will righteous; to the honor of Jesus Christ our Lord.

This prayer comes from the BCP; its title is "For those who influence public opinion" and it's one of my favorites. I found it not long after I started attending the Episcopal church, while I was working as a reporter. I was touched and encouraged by the thought that, at any given time, someone with a Book of Common Prayer might conceivably be praying those words - which would mean they were praying for me, even though they wouldn't know it. I wrote the prayer out on a post-it note and stuck it about eye level on the wall above my desk; it was also an excellent standard to measure my work by and goal to shoot for.

Words can be powerfully influential, and our technology allows us to distribute, broadcast, and upload our words to hundreds, thousands, even billions of people all over the world. There's no guarantee that any of them will notice or care, but the possibility of impact is definitely real. With much power comes much responsibility. My message today: use words sparingly - and for good purposes.

Isaiah started us off today with this motivation for speaking:
"The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word.

What is one good use of the ability to teach? Sustaining the weary.

A word or two of encouragement at the right time can give an exhausted person new energy to keep going.
One of my friends ran in the Boston Marathon, and she talked about the boost she received from people cheering her on as she started up a hill near the end. I know that, in the middle of a soccer game, I've been able to hear my parents, my coach or my friends yell something, and it did give me a burst of energy. In the hospital, whether you're the caregiver or the patient, or even the doctor, a word, a prayer, can lift your spirits and even provide measurable physical improvement.
Has anyone been on the receiving end of a sustaining word like this?

The opposite can also be true. I can just as easily discourage, hurt, or anger someone with a word.
If you've been following international news this week, you've seen this demonstrated. Some folks in the United States, claiming to represent Christianity, created a video insulting Islam and posted it on YouTube. Their film so incensed people in the Muslim world that, for the last several days, angry people in Egypt, Tunisia and other countries in the middle east have been attacking various places and people representing America; early on, some of them killed a man named Chris Stephens, the US Ambassador to Libya.

As James says, "How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire...a restless evil, full of deadly poison."

Your tongue, depending on what you say with it, is a powerful tool for healing or for hurting, for calming people or provoking them.

Bishop Ohl was talking on Thursday about being mindful in how we discuss the upcoming hearings; careless words could easily provoke anger, but careful words have the potential to offer reconciliation.

A while back, I suggested that you imagine Jesus like water, necessary to us for life. It's a good image for this topic too, especially as the court case involving our diocese moves into the spotlight again. You know that you may hear or read things that push your buttons; someone may say something that sets you off. If you open your mouth to answer back and feel your tongue on fire, reach for some water and douse it.

As James also said - "let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger, for your anger does not produce God's righteousness."

Isaiah seems to have the same idea about listening and speaking.
Right after noting that "the Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher" he says, "Morning by morning he wakens - wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught."

Listening comes first. Cover your ears. See how that makes it hard to listen? It also leaves your mouth free to say any ridiculous thing. Now cover your mouth. How many hands do you need to cover your ears? How many to cover your mouth? That's a good ratio. Listen at least twice as much as you speak. Kind of like "measure twice, cut once" - I often regret it when I don't.

The presidential election coming up in November may also provide some great opportunities to practice this technique. Civil discourse at these times is often... not. As the image of Christ, we need to be countercultural in this regard.

But James also knows that people don't always hold their tongues, and we often say things we shouldn't. "All of us make many mistakes," he says. "Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect..."

We're not perfect. But the gift of speech is a responsibility

Elijah under the broom tree

Readings: 1 Kings 19:4-8    Psalm 34:1-8     Ephesians 4:25-5:2     John 6:35, 41-51

God, thank you for showing us, through Elijah's experience under the broom tree, that in returning and rest we will be saved.

Today, we are going to make some stone soup - several people are contributing, including you, I hope.

Here's what happened on Sunday:

Nancy and Madelyn demonstrated the Old Testament reading by acting out the story of Elijah under the broom tree, ministered to by an angel. If you weren't there, you missed out! They did a great job :-)

Then I discussed it, focusing on Elijah's emotional state, which we can recognize as depression, and here's what I said, basically, starting out with THE CONTEXT of the reading from 1 Kings.

You may know the story about Elijah having a showdown with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel about who was really God: Yahweh or Baal.

The contest was that the prophets of Baal would pray to Baal to light the fire under their sacrifice, and Elijah would pray to God to light the fire under his sacrifice. Whichever god answered with fire would win, and the people would worship that god.

The prophets of Baal went first; they danced around the altar, leaping, shouting, and cutting themselves, until eventually they collapsed from exhaustion, but...

no fire - nothing.

Then Elijah took the field; he rebuilt the altar of the Lord, cut the wood, sacrificed the bull and placed it on the altar, and then he added a few other challenges to the contest. He had the altar doused with water until it was soaked, running down the altar and pooling at the base, filling up a wide trench around the altar.

Then he prayed:

O Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your bidding. Answer me, O Lord, answer me, so that this people may know that you, O Lord, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.

And immediately, FIRE came down from heaven:

Then the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench. When all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, “The Lord indeed is God; the Lord indeed is God.” Elijah said to them, “Seize the prophets of Baal; do not let one of them escape.” Then they seized them; and Elijah brought them down to the Wadi Kishon, and killed them there.

So, God won; Elijah and the people grabbed and killed all the prophets of Baal. Jezebel, the queen, was incensed when she heard about it.

She sent a messenger to tell him this:

“So may the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.”

She was putting out a hit on him, sending out her assassins. And coming from Jezebel, you could be sure it was no idle threat.

But, considering that Elijah had just witnessed God sending fire from heaven, you would think he might just laugh at a threat like that, knowing what a powerful God he was serving.

No, he was terrified. He took off - he went all the way to Beersheba, which is far.

Several times in the OT, when people want to say "from one end of the country to the other," talking about Israel, they say "from Dan to Beersheba."

(I'm not advocating the views of the website linked in the previous phrase, but the map is easy to understand and illustrates this point, and the website quotes several of the texts using this phrase. For more on how this phrase has played a role in Zionist colonialism, there are many articles if you do a Google Scholar search for "from Dan to Beersheba" including, for example, this one.) 

"From Dan to Beersheba" might be like us saying, in Texas, "from Orange to El Paso." So, when Elijah went to Beersheba, he went all the way to the edge of the country and kept on going - out into the wilderness - before he finally collapsed under a tree.

What he does and says at that point might not seem to be reasonable, except when we recall that Elijah is a human being, and he is subject to stresses and emotions and the effects they have on mind and body.

After having experienced intense stress, violence, and a life-threatening situation (any of these by itself would do), most people's adrenaline wears off and they kind of crash - feeling depression and fatigue, seeing things in extreme terms and maybe wanting to die. That's exactly what happens to Elijah. He can't run any further, he feels worthless ("I'm no better than my ancestors") he asks God to kill him, and then he falls asleep.

I called Fr. Vernon to get some insight into what depression is and what it looks like. Since he is also Dr. Gotcher, he knows quite a bit about this topic. He said there are 2 kinds: situational depression (from something that has happened), also sometimes called "reactive" depression, and endogenous depression (chemically-based), sometimes called major depression or unipolar depression. Endo-genous means "generated from within." This type is still not completely understood.

Dr. Gotcher said it's very common for people to experience situational depression after a traumatic, especially a life-threatening event. He told a story, which he said I could share, of a time when he spun out on a wet road and went up an embankment, stopping just short of sliding out in front of oncoming cars on the highway. As soon as he caught his breath and realized the car was stopped, he started laughing and crying all at the same time.

I had a complication from surgery in 2005 that sent me into a downward spiral and close to death. About a week later, my first night outside of ICU, I remember looking out the window and seeing the lights of a plane coming into Houston Intercontinental - and I started crying. The world was still going on; I was still in it. I cried off and on the rest of the night.
Depression is one of the normal responses to traumatic stress, even though it may not feel normal compared to how you act most of the time.

People don't normally burst into tears at random moments, wish that they could die, and fall asleep at the drop of a hat - at least, not when they're not depressed. When someone is depressed, all those things are normal.

Just like people aren't normally covered with red dots...   ...unless they have chicken pox or measles, or have been bitten all over by bed bugs, in which case, being covered in red dots is exactly what you would expect.

Elijah was no different than you or me. Elijah, the great prophet, who performed miracles, called on God to send fire from heaven, was taken up into heaven in a flaming chariot - Elijah was a human being, not a super human being. After the big showdown, killing hundreds of people, and then having his life threatened, he became depressed; he was exhausted, he felt his life's work had been pointless, and he wanted to die.

I think it's important to know that, under certain circumstances, all kinds of things can be normal.

God's response is also instructive. God sends an angel who wakes Elijah up and gives him some food.

Then he lets him sleep more.

God cares for Elijah and can provide a model for how we can help each other.

One woman on YouTube (whose video I will link as soon as I find it again) who has experienced depression said the thing that she thinks helps the most is to look after small things: fix a sandwich, wash clothes, bring some tea...


When my aunt came in to see me in the hospital the next morning and found me in tears, she helped me wash my hair. Later, when I got out of the hospital, they took me to their house to look after me for 2 months. The people of St. Mark's, my home parish, brought me food and did all sorts of other simple, thoughtful things. One person brought sweet pea blooms from her garden. Someone else brought me a prayer shawl. My brother and sister-in-law drove to Beaumont to stay with me for a week; they talked to me and took me for walks. A friend offered me a temporary job and helped me find an apartment. And it went on and on.

I said we are going to make soup.

I've started it off, Madelyn and Nancy and Fr. Gotcher have contributed, along with some people from the internet. Now, I'd like you to add something.

Here's what I'm asking you to do: Remember a time you experienced God's care for you like Elijah experienced under the broom tree, and write about it. How were you ministered to? Don't try to tell then entire story - just focus on one instance of God caring for you, in whatever form that took.
Then, read over what you've written and consider whether it's something you'd be willing to share. Feel free to edit until you have what you are comfortable sharing. I recommend leaving out names, unless you specifically want yourself identified. Then, add it into the comments section below.

Something to keep in mind: Being ministered to doesn't mean that, afterwards, everything was solved; the angel woke Elijah up from his rest under the broom tree and gave him more food so he could walk an even longer distance - and then climb a mountain.

It can be a helpful thing to hear other people's experiences. It can also be a helpful exercise to look back on your own story and see God caring for you so that you can offer thanks if you didn't at the time (or again - no danger of offering God too much gratitude). Your stories may offer reassurance of God's presence and hope for someone else.

I also recommend reading how Elijah's story continues in the rest of 1 Kings 19 once he reaches Mt. Horeb.

Nathanael, Jesus, pumpkins, and the Gospel According to Randy Bachman

2nd Sunday after Epiphany, Year B
Lectionary Readings: 1 Samuel 3:1-10(11-20)   Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17   1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51


This morning I'm going to talk about Nathanael and Jesus,

and about Moses and God, the blue people from Avatar, and Bachman-Turner Overdrive.

And pumpkins.

The pumpkins are very important.

Let's start with the Gospel. Jesus decides to go to Galilee and he finds Philip and calls him to follow. Then Philip runs off to get Nathanael, who is not as enthusiastic about it. But as he's walking up, Jesus says "Here is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit" And Nathanael says "How do you know me?" Jesus says he saw Nathanael under the fig tree before Philip called him.
We don't know what that's about, but Nathanael does, and the fact that Jesus also knows convinces him that Jesus is the real deal; he knows what no one else but God would know. For him, it wasn't so much that seeing was believing - it was more being seen.

My nephew Jackson is a year and a half, and before bedtime, he likes somebody to read to him. For a while, his favorite book was God Knows All About Me by Kate Toms,

which is basically Psalm 139 for toddlers.

"From my fingers to my toes,
from my knees to my nose,
God knows all about me!"

There have been profound ways I've learned that God knows all about me, but then there are also little things that seem so insignificant that I never imagined he would care - and he knows those things too. Here's where the pumpkins come in.

I moved here from Beaumont at the very end of August; in early October, I went back to perform a wedding for one of my classmates from Lamar University. After the wedding, as I was driving back up here that Sunday night, I pulled into a gas station and suddenly noticed that there were pumpkins everywhere. I blinked a few times and then started laughing out loud. Why was that so funny? Let me give you the back story:

A couple of weeks before, I had visited St. Alban's in Arlington, where I met their deacon and their rector, who invited me to a meeting about campus ministry at UTA, inexplicably. I wasn't involved at UTA - I wasn't involved with St. Alban's - I wasn't even officially in the diocese yet - but for some reason, I was at this meeting, and they were talking about an idea for a pumpkin carving event, and for some reason, I opened my mouth and offered to bring pumpkins. As soon as I said it, I thought, "Why did I do that? Where am I going to find a bunch of pumpkins?"

The rest of the week, I was getting ready for the wedding, talking with Fr. Vernon (since I had just visited St. Stephen's for the 2nd time), and making plans to meet up with friends in Beaumont. And I would occasionally think about the pumpkins. I figured I could go to the grocery store, but I have been gradually getting more interested in trying to buy food grown locally when I can. I thought maybe I could go online and try to find someplace that sold local produce, but looking for pumpkins seemed kind of trivial. I didn't want to get sidetracked. I would worry about it after the wedding.

The wedding Saturday was great - so much fun - and Sunday I got to see a lot of good friends, had lunch with one of my deacon buddies. Then I started back. The drive was fine, but after about the fourth hour, I figured I should stop soon for gas. It was already dark. I was kind of in the middle of nowhere, but after a few miles, I could see some lights ahead, so I took the exit - the first building I came to was lit up with zig-zaggy neon lights in different colors, and I thought "this is probably not a gas station..." I was about to drive on past and get back on the highway when I looked left and saw a gas station on the other side of the highway, so I took the bridge over to it.
I was pulling in the driveway when it occurred to me that there were pumpkins stacked EVERYWHERE.


I blinked a few times and looked closely at the pumps; they said "Cooper Farms" - maybe this wasn't a gas station, either. I pulled up to a pump. Sure enough, you could get gas there.
You could also get pumpkins - LOTS of pumpkins.
Turns out, this was a creative marketing idea the farm had come up with: a gas station/point-of-sale for the produce. And the farm was just a few miles away. I laughed - I hadn't even been thinking about the pumpkins. Here they were, problem solved. I went inside and paid for my gas, along with a bunch of pumpkins. One of the guys who works on the farm helped me cram them in my trunk and on the floor of the back seat. Then I got in the car, put on my seatbelt, and started laughing - I laughed for the next few miles, and off and on the rest of the way home.

God KNEW me: he knew I wanted to buy a bunch of pumpkins, he knew I needed gas, and he knew where I could find both of those things right then, in the middle of nowhere, on a Sunday night. I hadn't asked him to help me with any of that; it wouldn't have occurred to me that such a solution even existed. And he didn't tell me; he just took me there, pulled his hands away from my eyes and said "Surprise!" and sat there with a grin on his face. Such a random thing - why would God bother helping me find pumpkins? Why would he care about that? And he seemed to smile at me and say, "Why wouldn't I?"

To God, all hearts are open, all desires known, and from him no secrets are hid

Lord, you have searched me out and known me: you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar... my body was not hidden from you, while I was being made in secret and woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my limbs, yet unfinished in the womb...

God knows all about me

If you have seen the movie Avatar,
What do the blue people say when they greet each other?

"I see you"
And what does it mean?
It means "I know you - I see who you are at the deepest level."

This greeting comes from isiZulu:

Sawubona - I see you
Yebo sawubona - yes, I see you, too

Another response in some places is: Ngikhona - I am here

It's similar to what people say in the Bible when God starts talking to them. They say "hineyni" and what it means is "Behold me" which is sort of like saying "look at me" or "see me" and it's usually translated into English as "Here I am."

It's how Moses responds to God speaking to him from the burning bush.
It's Isaiah's response to God's question "Whom shall we send, and who will go for us?" "Here I am, send me"
It's Mary responding to the annunciation, when the angel Gabriel told her the news about Jesus "Here am I, the servant of the Lord..."
And in our Old Testament reading for today - little Samuel hears someone calling his name, and his first response, even though he didn't know who he was responding to, was "Here I am, for you called me"

Which brings us back to Nathanael.
Jesus calls Philip, and Philip calls Nathanael to "come and see" what he's found.
as Nathanael's walking up, Jesus says "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit" and Nathanael isn't sure what to make of that. "Where did you get to know me?"
Jesus tells him "I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you."
Whatever it was Jesus was refering to about the fig tree, Nathanael knew, and that convinced him that Jesus knew him at the deepest level. Jesus said to Nathanael, "I see you," and Nathanael is suddenly able to respond to Jesus, "I see you, too."
In a 180-degree turn from his earlier attitude of "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" Nathanael says "Rabbi! You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!"

The next time God says, "I see you..."  try to respond like Moses, Isaiah, Samuel, and Mary - and say "Here I am"
Or you can respond like Nathanael and say, "Yes, I see you, too"

Which brings me finally to the Gospel according to Randy Bachman and a great interpretation of what Jesus said to Nathanael afterwards. "Do you believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these...."

In other words

Bbbaby - You ain't seen nothin' yet!

The beginning of the good news

I’ve got some good news!
The beginning of some good news at least... as Mark says “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”


Starting with what we hear in 2nd Peter:
The day of the Lord will come like a thief
•the heavens will pass away with a loud noise
•the elements will be dissolved with fire
•the earth and everything in it will be disclosed

And in Isaiah
All people are grass
their constancy is like the flower of the field
the grass withers, the flower fades
when the breath of the LORD blows upon it:

The earth is fragile; all people are grass. We learn this as species become extinct, as salt water begins to inundate and swallow small islands in the Pacific, as storms change our coastlines and earthquakes level our buildings. We learn this whenever we're startled by how easy it is for people to die. John F. Kennedy, the astronauts in the Challenger, the people in the Twin Towers, people you've known personally who died. It is always a little startling how fragile life is.

I know that I am like grass. I discovered this undeniably when I went through a medical crisis. I suffered a severe and unexpected complication after a procedure to stabilize a brain aneurysm (the aneurysm procedure went fine), and I came very close to death.

Many of you know that you are like grass. You've had medical scares. You've also seen how fragile the balance of your life is economically, emotionally, relationally. Some of you have been through divorce, family turmoil. Some of you have lost jobs or are experiencing uncertainty about your finances and future employment. You've experienced how things that seemed solid and unchanging can evaporate out from under you.
Nothing is too big to fail, really.

So how is any of this good news?

By itself, the fact that we are all grass is not good news, but there's more to it than that. That’s why it’s just the BEGINNING of the good news.

Let's hear what Mark has to say.
John the Baptist comes preaching baptism for repentance of sins
Message: Repent, Make straight the way of the Lord
"Make straight the way of the Lord" implied the following:
- the king is coming to visit
- literally, you should fix the road so he'll have smooth travel (fill in the potholes, etc)
The beginning of the good news in Mark was a startling voice calling people to acknowledge their failings and go in a different direction, preparing for something better.

John’s message was some difficult news. Road work - literally or figuratively - is hard. Whether you actually fill in potholes and straighten out the road shoulders or you start filling in empty places and smoothing over estrangements and other things we've messed up in our lives, either way, it’s hard work. The types of effort it takes to repair and turn a life around are not easy - repentance, reconciliation, discipline - and a trusting openness to God. A lot of people give up on it after they’ve barely started.
As GK Chesterton said, "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it's been found difficult and left untried."

Parts of our culture really don't like difficulty, because it can result in failure, which shows up our weaknesses. We don't want to admit to anyone, least of all ourselves, that we HAVE any weaknesses. Other parts of our culture like to embrace difficulty, though in very controlled environments, for a similar purpose – to showcase strength in order to rebut any charge of weakness. Marathons, triathlons, Iron Man events, multi-day bike races, and all kinds of strenuous and challenging physical feats have become very popular.
But our strength is very relative.

I would not be much of a match for a bear or a shark, for instance, much less an asteroid. Even in relation to other people, it's still not equal. I'm five feet tall, so unless I were playing basketball with second graders, I would not be much of a force to reckon with. And it's not only in external conflicts that our weaknesses appear. Some of the most serious are inside our own bodies. Consider your brain - physiologically. Very powerful - and VERY delicate. Thinking about the aneurysm I had - the weak wall of the artery that had ballooned out was maybe a fraction of a millimeter thick - and if that unimaginably thin tissue were to tear, my brain would react so strongly to coming in contact with the slight acidity of my blood that I would most likely die or become profoundly disabled.

And it's not just our bodies that are weak. Our relationships are fragile and require constant tending and strengthening; our emotions are difficult to understand, much less control; our minds are easily confused and disturbed; our wills are fairly easy to corrupt and require consistent training and scrutiny.
The fact is we are human.
Weakness is our PRIMARY reality, in every area of our lives.

And that's the good news!

Because God's strength is made perfect in weakness.
God's strength perfectly complements our weakness.
Our weakness showcases God's strength.

It's not the type of strength you may be used to - the strength of a predator who takes from the weak to increase its own strength - a lion snatching a sheep. This is the strength of the shepherd who fights off the lion. Trust that kind of strength.

God's strength rises to the challenge of our weakness to make both of us stronger. Think of the kid in the movie The Sandlot, who summons all his skill, more than was usually asked of him, and hits the ball right into Small's glove - so he'll have some confidence and start to get better.

Not only is God good; he's so good, he makes it possible for us to get better.

So when you pray, when you open the door of your weakness to God, and when you come to receive communion and healing, don't just look for comfort; look for strength.
And then, start looking for ways you can rise to the challenge of others' weaknesses, and in God's strength, begin to strengthen them.

The beginning of the good news is that we are weak.
The rest of the good news is that he is strong.

Is it lawful...to divorce?

18th Sunday after Pentecost - Year B

Readings: OT, Psalms - Job 1:1; 2:1-10 Psalm 26 or Genesis 2:18-24 Psalm 8 NT- Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12 Gospel- Mark 10:2-16

O gracious and everliving God, you have created us male and female in your image: Look mercifully upon [all married people], and assist them with your grace, that with true fidelity and steadfast love they may honor and keep the promises and vows they make; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
Amen. (BCP p. 425)

“Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”

Wow, let’s just tackle that question, shall we? Because I’m super-well qualified to do so. And I’m sure it’s what you were hoping I’d pick to talk about.

But, it is an issue that affects probably most of us in some way or another, and it’s something Jesus addressed. That in itself is reason enough, but in addition, I think we can see, in the forcefulness of Jesus’ words, what God’s hopes for us are relationally and what we’re meant to be to each other.

When you’re listening to this passage, did you notice who Jesus was speaking to when he got all upset about this? The questioner is not someone in the middle of a painful crisis, sincerely needing and seeking guidance and help. No, who we have here are the Pharisees coming up “to test Jesus” and this is where they’re coming from when they ask “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”

Now, these men spend most of their day every day studying the law; they know what the law says about divorce.

So Jesus answers their question with another question: “What did Moses command you?”

By tradition, Moses was the one who gave Israel the Torah – the Law – one passage in the Torah related to the issue of divorce is in Deuteronomy.

Here’s what it says:

“Suppose a man enters into marriage with a woman, but she does not please him because he finds something objectionable about her, and so he writes her a certificate of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house; she then leaves his house and goes off to become another man’s wife. Then suppose the second man dislikes her, writes her a bill of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house (or the second man who married her dies); her first husband, who sent her away, is not permitted to take her again to be his wife...” (Deut 24:1-4)

So the Pharisees answered, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.”

Jesus comes back at them – “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Strong words.

Later, when they were back at the house, the disciples asked Jesus about it again, and he framed the situation from both sides – if the husband divorces his wife and remarries, it’s adultery; if the wife divorces her husband and remarries, it’s adultery. Even stronger words.

Now, I don’t know this, but I’m imagining that possibly some walls are going up right now if they weren’t already up just at the reading of this Gospel. Please try to keep listening.

For one thing, remember the point at the beginning: who is he talking to? People who are asking for a generic ruling on a generic subject, looking for loopholes, justifications. And he gets mad.

Contrast that with the way he treated the woman who was caught in adultery, when everybody wanted to stone her. Here’s a specific situation, with specific people. If the question was about the law, the law was clearly broken. But what did Jesus do? He pointed out that no one was without sin, so no one can rely on the law to justify themselves. We all depend on God’s mercy to forgive us and restore us to right relationships with God and with each other.

I think one point Jesus was making with the Pharisees and with the disciples in speaking so forcefully about divorce is that divorce destroys relationships and creates distance, not only between people (those directly and indirectly affected), but also between us and God. It’s not about what’s lawful, what people are allowed or permitted to do; it’s not primarily about he law at all. It’s about people. It’s about what God intended for us and wants for us in our relationships with each other and with God.

The Pharisees’ question was framed from the perspective of someone looking at divorce from outside of it. The question is generic, hypothetical: “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”

You want a rule? You already have a rule – what does it say? “It says we can divorce.” Okay, so there’s your rule. But the rule is because you’re hard-hearted; when you use it for your own convenience or to hurt the other person, you’ve missed the point of what this relationship of marriage was created to be. Marriage is a relationship between people, specific, individual people, not generic/hypothetical people. Don’t reduce the relationship to rules and loopholes. Marriage was meant to put people together to make them something new, in themselves and in relation to the community.

Marriage is sacramental: it’s a vehicle through which Christ offers grace to both people, and to others around them, including children – what is the gift of life itself if not a supreme grace from God? If you’re married, you yourself are one manifestation of God’s grace to your spouse. In the covenant of marriage, you love and serve your husband, your wife, as Christ loves and serves the church. You are an image of Christ, potentially the clearest image your spouse sees of who Christ is. If your wife had only you to judge from, what would she think Christ is like? If your husband had only you to judge from, what would he think Christ is like?

One of the most powerful witnesses of our Christian belief in Christ’s incarnation, for those who are married, is that, when Christ’s grace is at work in your marriage, you can see him in each other. This is the point, at least part of the point of Jesus getting so upset with the Pharisees for trying to find justification and permission for divorce. The point is not what’s permissible under the law – what can we legally get away with in our dealings with each other. The point is that, in our relationships with each other we can come to know God in ways that we can’t know him on our own. Our relationships, particularly the bond of marriage, are avenues of God’s grace – that’s why marriage is a sacrament – that’s why the community of the church itself, as a body, is a sacramental thing and why just being here together for the purpose of worshipping God is beneficial to us - it’s a way God is tangibly at work in us, visible to us. God is present to us through each other. Those of you who are married not only offer God’s grace to your spouse in your relationship, but you also spread it to your family and everyone who knows you, including your church family. Marriage is a gift to the church, and the church has a responsibility to support people in their marriages; when people are married in the church, in fact, we all promise to “do all in our power to uphold these two persons in their marriage.”

Sometimes things in a marriage go haywire and become destructive. God created marriage, and marriage is a good thing, but it can be warped into something awful to the point that, in comparison, divorce is better. If one or the other or both people don’t want to change their destructive relationship, divorce might be necessary to save the people. This doesn’t mean that divorce is good. I have never heard anyone say, “I love getting divorced – I hope it will always be this way!”

No matter what the precipitating situations were, divorce is a terrible loss. It’s a loss of relationship, and also a loss of identity, because of what we heard Jesus quote from Genesis – when two people marry, they aren’t two separate individuals anymore; they’re one.

Have you ever super-glued your thumb and finger together? What happens if you pull them apart? 

I’ve been told that divorce is like that.

Divorce laws exist because individual people are of infinite value and shouldn’t be destroyed, even by marriage. But divorce was never anybody’s plan or goal, least of all God’s. The plan for a sacramental relationship between two people is marriage. So the point is not to find legal justifications for divorce but to understand what the intent of marriage is.

What does God want to do in you that he can best do through your marriage? Many things, probably. This would be a good question to take up with him – you can also take it up with your wife or with your husband, because, if you will recall what I said a minute ago, your marriage is an avenue of God’s grace – it’s one of the ways God speaks to you.

Amen.

Come Eat Supper

Easter 7 - Year B

Readings:  Acts 1:15-17, 21-26   Psalm 1   1 John 5:9-13   John 17:6-19

Lord Jesus, thank you for reuniting us with God, our Father. Amen

There’s a podcast I subscribe to called “This American Life” from NPR in Chicago. Each broadcast, they have a theme, and they tell three or four different kinds of stories based around the theme. The last one I listened to, the theme was “Reunited, and it feels so good…”

Jesus is reuniting God, the Father, with his children. The first step was when he became one of us, when he was born as a baby and became our brother, growing up in a family and seeing from the inside what our lives are like. Then, he started talking to us about God, his Father – our Father - what he’s like, what he wants to say to us and how he wants to relate to us.

Finally, he started telling us he was going to leave, but that we wouldn’t be alone – we wouldn’t be left comfortless, as we prayed in the collect – because we would be able to talk to God, to Our Father, directly now.

Earlier on, people had become afraid to talk to God. When Moses went up on Mt. Sinai to receive the law, there was fire and thunder, and the mountain smoked, and everyone was terrified. They told Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen, but do not let God speak to us or we will die.” (Ex 20:1819)

After that, God communicated to his people through the law and then through the words of the prophets, priests and kings, but it was not a perfect system because a good many of those folks were not dependable and garbled up the message or ignored it or said whatever they felt like. So, finally, God sent his own Son to bring the message – to communicate with us, and the way he chose to do that was by becoming one of us.

While that is hard to comprehend in itself: that God’s Son would become a human being – the even more astonishing thing – which is also the more important thing about Jesus coming to live with us, is that in doing so, he brought us back into a relationship with God – and a closer relationship than we had before.

The Exsultet – the hymn at the beginning of the Great Vigil of Easter, says “How blessed is this night/ when earth and heaven are joined/ and man is reconciled to God”

Being reunited to God was a difficult process, certainly not without pain. First, there was the pain of the initial separation – and then a prolonged period of estrangement that was also painful for both us and God. Then, God had to be separated from his Son in order for his Son to enter our lives. That separation was painful for both of them, even though it brought Jesus into a closer connection with us.

Then, once Jesus had reestablished a connection with us, in the bonds he formed with his disciples and followers, he had to leave to go back to God, “And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you.”

And that meant a separation of one type of closeness with us, even though it began to bring us all back to a closer connection with God.

“The hour is coming when I will no longer speak to you in figures but will tell you plainly of the Father. On that day, you will ask in my name. I do not say to you that I will ask the Father on your behalf, for the Father himself loves you…” (Jn 16:25b-27a)

Jesus has been telling them he’s going to have to leave, and that things are going to get pretty hairy when he leaves, but that, through him, they have the same access as he does to seek help from God – his Father and their Father.

Then, while they’re sitting there, he begins to pray for them. It’s like he’s bringing God in the room and introducing Him to his disciples and introducing them to Him.

“I have told these folks about you; I told them what you said, and they’ve received it and know you’re the one who sent me. Now, I’m asking you – protect them, and unify them, just like we are. While I’ve been here, I’ve looked out for them, but now I’m coming back, and so I’m asking you to look out for them now.”

And pretty soon after this prayer, he gets arrested and killed, and things do get pretty hairy for the disciples, and they don’t understand what’s going on at first, but gradually they realize that Jesus has reunited them with God, his Father and their Father – Our Father.

When you’ve been separated or estranged from someone, even just briefly, reuniting is difficult – and sometimes it takes some help.

Imagine you and your dad having a fight, and you get really mad and go lock yourself in your room. He tries to talk to you through the door, but you won’t say anything.

After a while, here comes your brother… “Dad says come eat supper.”

“No!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Can I come in?”

A brother is different than a dad. Your brother can talk to you in a different way than your dad can – and there are things your brother can tell you that you won’t hear from your dad.

That’s kind of the situation between God and his people. There had been a lot of fighting between us and God, and we’d become estranged and weren’t talking to each other. We had locked ourselves in our room, kind of. So Jesus came into the situation from our side. At first, he ferried messages back and forth like a mediator. He would tell us what God said and explain what he meant by it and he would also listen to our grievances and see what we were upset about and then go out to the kitchen and talk to God for us.

So you’re in your room, feeling a bit better and thinking maybe you’ll come out in a while - and your brother says, “Okay, I’m going – it’s time for supper and I’m supposed to set the table; you should talk to Dad.”

And maybe you feel ready for that and maybe you don’t, but he opens the door, and there’s God, standing in the hall. “I told her that you’re not mad and that you just want her to come eat, and she said she believes you and she’ll come out.”

Then he goes down to the table – and God’s there in the hall, and you’re looking at each other for a while, not knowing what to say – and he says, “Why don’t you come eat with us…”

Amen.

I don't need your cow

Readings: Exodus 20:1-17   Psalm 19    1 Corinthians 1:18-25 

John 2:13-22

Lord, help us to cleanse our hearts so we can prepare with joy for the Paschal feast.

Yelling at people, turning the furniture over, throwing money on the floor, telling people to get out, and chasing cows and sheep with a whip…

Jesus was kind of upset, it seems like.

Why? What’s he so upset about, exactly?

Is it money? Does he not like the idea of people bringing money into the temple? I don’t think so. Remember the story of “the widow’s mite?” When the widow brought her money put in the offering in the temple, he didn’t run over and slap the two little coins out of her hand and yell at her… So, it’s not money he objects to, per se…And not even money in the temple.

Is it the animals? Does he think it’s inappropriate to have animals running around in the temple? We don’t bring animals to church with us, usually (except maybe for the Feast of St. Francis and the Blessing of the Animals). But at the temple, the animals were regularly part of the service. They were for sacrifice, to make payment to God for sins – or for thanksgiving. If your worship requires animal sacrifice, you have to have animals there. Jesus’ own parents brought doves to the temple to sacrifice when he was a baby. So, he’s not upset that there are animals around. 

Was it the fact that people were selling the animals maybe?

Or that they were selling them in the temple?

I think that’s more the issue – but why was he upset about that? It seems like it would just be a convenience for people needing to get animals for the offerings and sacrifices.

Let’s imagine a contemporary parallel.

How could we make it more convenient for people to make offerings at church? You know, sometimes I forget my checkbook, and so I’m not prepared when I get here on first Sundays.

Maybe we could put an ATM in the narthex. Just for convenience.

That way, people could easily get money to put in the offering if they forget and come unprepared.

What do you think? Wouldn’t that be helpful?

If the goal of the offering is convenience, then, sure - why not?

Well, it would be tacky, for one thing. And generally, Episcopalians are on board with Jesus 100% on this – we don’t do tacky. (Thanks be to God!)

But the ATM and convenience store of ready-to-order animal sacrifices at the temple was not just tacky. It also showed that people were lazy and not taking the point of the sacrifice seriously. They were coming to offer sacrifice to God, and they were unprepared. It’s not that they didn’t know what was being asked of them; they just figured a way to accomplish it in the easiest way possible. And in that, they were totally missing the point.

“God wants a cow for a sin offering – okay – I’ll buy one when I get there. That way, I don’t have to haul it all the way to Jerusalem. I’ll just pick one up at the gate on the way in – less hassle.”

God gets pretty frustrated with this attitude and we hear this repeatedly in the Psalms and in the prophets. Here’s one example.

“Hear, O my people and I will speak, O Israel, I will testify against you.

I am God, your God. Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you; your burnt offerings are continually before me. I will not accept a bull from your house, or goats from your folds. For every wild animal of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills. …

If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world and all that is in it is mine.

Do I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?

Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and pay your vows to the Most High”

(Ps 50:7-14)

I don’t need your cow! – it’s my cow anyway! I don’t need your money. I don’t buy things. I made everything. Do you seriously think this is about you giving me something I need?

David gets the point of this in Psalm 51.

“O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.

For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite  heart, O God, you will not despise.”

(51: 15-17)

Maybe we would never put an ATM in the narthex – but being lazy about what we offer to God, coming to church with our hearts unprepared …

Ever do that?  And it’s not because we don’t know it’s coming – it happens every week at the same time.

Right now, we’re in the season of Lent – which, incidentally, happens every year at the same time. We’re supposed to be preparing for Easter, which also (to be clear) happens every year at the same time. If you are concerned about not knowing the exact date, let me show you something. Take a look the Book of Common Prayer that you have there in your seat. Find page 883. Here, you can see when Easter will be for the next 80 years. There’s absolutely no excuse to be unprepared.

Don’t be lazy and wait to the last minute to try and spiff up that morning –

God is not interested in whether we can take a nice picture wearing clean, new clothes. God is interested in giving us a clean, new life.

How do we prepare for that? We have to give our lives to God to let him clean them up. And how do we do that? By giving up things we are attached to that aren’t God – and trying to put God in place of that other stuff.

It’s really his place to begin with – like the cows people gave him that he already owned – when we bring offerings and make sacrifices, we’re really only giving God what belongs to him in the first place. God doesn’t need your cow – he doesn’t need your money. He doesn’t need the chocolate you’re not eating or whatever. God wants your life. In making your sacrifices, then, bring offerings that represents you – your life. God wants to come with you on the journey – he doesn’t want some souvenir you picked up in the airport.

So, prepare now for Easter. During Lent, give yourself as an offering and a sacrifice to God.

Amen