Sunday, January 28, 2018

Liberating Power



Scripture:  Deuteronomy 18:15-20  Psalm 111
        I Corinthians 8:1-13   Mark 1:21-28




What do you expect when you come to church?  To see your friends from church?  To sing some hymns – maybe your favorites, maybe not.   To hear the Scriptures, and a sermon that may help us apply it to our lives – or not.   And at the end, a closing hymn,  a benediction, and some coffee and cake downstairs afterward.
We probably don’t expect to hear someone stand up in the middle of the service and start screaming at the top of their lungs.  Now, in some churches, that wouldn’t necessarily be out of place.  In Pentecostal churches, parishioners may cry out, speak in tongues – which may sound like gibberish to others but carries deep meaning to them - dance in the aisles, even fall backward in a faint – the phrase for it is “being slain in the Spirit”.  But here at Emanuel, as in most mainline churches, while worship is heartfelt, it also tends to be quiet and orderly.  Hopefully not so quiet and orderly as to induce sleep, but quiet and orderly nonetheless.
Our reading from Mark’s gospel takes place just after Jesus gathered his first disciples.  They attend a synagogue in Capernaum, and Jesus stands up to teach.  We’re not told what Jesus said, only that his words carried a ring of authenticity, of lived experience, that those gathered in worship were not accustomed to hearing.  They were doubly astonished because Jesus was essentially a nobody from nowhere, a nobody from the nearby town of Nazareth, with no formal training.
It is at this point, as Jesus was teaching, that a man suddenly stands up and starts screaming at Jesus, veins standing out in his neck, eyes blazing with rage, his arm extended and finger pointing directly at Jesus, looking like he’s about to explode:  “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?  Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God!”  Jesus takes charge of the situation, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him.”  The spirit both disobeyed and obeyed, coming out of the man, but making a lot of noise on the way out.  And the people are in awe, saying “What is this – a new teaching, with authority!  He can even command the unclean spirits, and they obey.”  And then they sang their closing hymn, went downstairs, drank coffee and ate cake, and went home.  Well, actually, probably that’s not what happened.   What had started as an ordinary worship service had been transformed.  Though Jesus tried to keep his actions under wraps, news of this healing spread throughout the region.
It may be difficult for us to relate to this story.   Many of the symptoms attributed to demonic possession in Jesus’ day seem recognizable to us as symptoms of epilepsy or mental illness, medical conditions that respond to medication or talk therapy or both.  For many of us, talk of unclean spirits may call to mind images from the long ago movie The Exorcist, with Linda Blair spewing vomit and spinning her head around.  Or if we’re more architecturally minded, we may gravitate toward movies like the Amityville Horror, in which a house rather than a person is possessed by evil. 
The way I can connect to this text, at least at this point in my life, is to think of other examples in which people are seemingly driven by forces beyond their control.  For example, an addict, aside from the addiction, may have as much capacity for kindness and caring as anyone else.  But an addict desperate for a fix will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, threaten, neglect family members and children, and even put the lives of others in danger, until the addict’s need is met.  And we know that over time as the body’s tolerance increases, the fix has less and less effect, the addict needs more of the drug and needs it more frequently, and the vice tightens until the need for a fix takes over the addict’s entire life.  And like the man in our gospel reading, even though on some level the addict knows he or she needs help, if help is offered, it will be resisted mightily.  The addict may wonder if, aside from their addiction, they still exist.  Are they holding the bottle or is the bottle holding them.  And if the bottle is taken away, will there be anything of them – their pre-addiction personality – left?  Or, if they give up their addiction, will they disappear, or turn into joyless zombies with no feelings, with no capacity for relating to others and enjoying life.
A key insight of the twelve step programs is that addiction is not just about a physical craving for a controlled substance, but a symptom of a deeper spiritual sickness – and if the person succeeds in quitting cold turkey without undergoing a spiritual change, their lives will still be distorted.  In AA, such people are called “dry drunks” – people who do not drink but still act out all of the distorted, immature, self-centered thinking of an active alcoholic or addict. As Jesus said elsewhere, if a demon is cast out of a man, but the man has nothing in his life to fill the emptiness, the demon will return and invite its friends.  If only it were as easy as Jesus laying his hands on someone and casting out a demon….I’d gladly walk down Kensington Avenue, laying hands on everybody as I went.  But only Jesus gets to be Jesus, and it’s not that simple, though if anyone wants me to lay hands on them and pray, they have only to ask.  But recovery is not the work of a moment but of a lifetime.  The mental and spiritual distortions that underlie addiction develop over a lifetime, and may take a lifetime to unwind. The twelve steps provide a guide for doing the spiritual work – spiritual inventory, confession, attempts to make amends, spreading the message.  And if the spiritual work is done, there can be great reward.  I was at a funeral years ago for a longtime AA member, with decades of sobriety, who had been an anchor at many groups around the city.  It was said of him that he took the raging torrents of his own life, and poured them out as cups of cool water to quench the thirst of those around him.
There are other ways in which we can find ourselves caught up in forces beyond our control.  We’ve all heard stories of group behavior that got out of hand – celebrations of sports victories in the streets that resulted in property damage and physical injury, fraternity hazing rituals that led to alcohol poisoning and death, bullying so pervasive as to drive the targeted person to suicide, flash mob attacks that send victims to the hospital.   Those who get caught up in such behavior may as individuals have little capacity or desire to hurt others.  They may wake up the next morning, perhaps at home, perhaps in jail, drowning in regret, wondering what on earth possessed them to act as they did.  Indeed, that’s exactly the right question: what possessed them.  But in that moment, somehow the aggression and suppressed hostility within each individual took over, and the whole became greater than the sum of its parts.
And it’s not just small groups.   Institutions, communities, can become enmeshed in evil.  Theologian Walter Wink wrote that at various places in Scripture, churches and even nations are said to have angels representing them before God, and that Paul warned of powers, principalities, spiritual wickedness in the heavenly places.  Wink interprets this to mean that institutions and even nations carry a kind of collective spiritual force, that can work for good or for bad.  And so, entire political and economic systems can be dominated by evil.  We have only to look at 1930’s Germany, when an entire country and culture, including its churches, collectively gave themselves over to humanity’s worst impulses.  On the surface, daily life went on much as it always had, with only subtle, gradual changes, but under the surface, the collective soul of the nation had been driven by a charismatic leader into captivity to evil.   And again, that included all but the tiniest sliver of the churches.  Martyrs such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer were the rare exception, not the rule.  Even activities that seemed good or harmless only served to mask monstrous crimes against humanity.  And similar horrors can happen anywhere, in any country, including our own.
How can we avoid getting caught up in collective evil beyond our control?  I think the key is to remember who we are, and whose we are.  The forces that would enslave us want us to forget, to forget who we are as individuals and as a society.   They want us to forget who we are so that they can define us as they want us to be.  As people of faith, we need to remember that both we and our neighbor are equally children of God – regardless of race or nationality or gender or faith tradition.  As Christians, we need to remember that Christ calls us to love God and neighbor, and that our neighbor is anyone in need.  We need to remember our baptismal vows to serve God and resist evil.   We need to remember Jesus as described in the Gospels, and as those around us compromise themselves, to ask, What would Jesus do?
Power is often used to enslave, to limit, to dominate, to coerce.  But for the writer of Mark’s gospel, Jesus used his power not to enslave, but to liberate; not to force people into some predetermined mold, but to free them to live out their true selves, to live with authenticity at their deepest level.   Mark recorded the casting out of the unclean spirit early in his gospel, not just as an individual miracle, but to set the tone for all that followed.
May we accept the liberation Jesus came to offer.  May we offer this same liberation to others in our lives.  May we remember who we are, and who our neighbors are, as precious children of God, created in God’s image, carrying something of God within us and them.  Amen.

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Drop Everything!!




Scripture:  Jonah 3:1-5, 10              Psalm 62:5-12        I Corinthians 7:29-31   Mark 1:14-20




This Sunday’s readings give us the second in a two-part series of call stories.   Last Sunday we read about God’s call of the child Samuel, and Jesus’ call of Philip and Nathanael.  Today we have the story of Jonah – a most reluctant prophet – and Jesus’ call of Simon and Andrew, James and John.
We’re also back in Mark’s gospel, the shortest Gospel, likely the first Gospel written.  Mark gives us a portrait of Jesus as a man of action, always on the move, always in motion – “Jolt Cola Jesus” or “Caffeinated Christ”.  The Greek word “euthus” – meaning “immediately, right away” – is in the text over and over – Jesus did this, and immediately he went to a different place and said that, and right away he went to yet another place and healed someone.  In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus doesn’t let grass grow under his feet.
Today’s Gospel reading is no exception.  And I should begin by saying that, if I were filming this part of Mark’s gospel, I would begin with some moderately ominous music – not disaster music, not Titanic going underwater music, but music indicating a looming threat.  Because our reading begins, “Now after John was arrested…..”  We remember that before starting his own ministry, Jesus had been baptized by John.  John was leading a renewal movement in his own right – quite a large one - and perhaps Jesus had been a part of that movement.  But now John was arrested.  Jesus’ mentor was in jail.  Every one of John’s followers must have asked themselves, “What now?  Where do we go from here?”
Jesus’ answer to that question was to start his own movement.  Jesus did this knowing, of course, that the same powerful leaders who shut down John’s movement would come for Jesus sooner or later.  Jesus began preaching, saying “The time has come!  Repent, and believe the good news of God.”   “The time has come” – the time when God was going to break through all the world’s corruption, was going to break through Rome’s oppression and the religious leadership’s complicity with Rome, and act decisively for God’s people.   Or, put another way, “Time’s up!  God’s coming to clean up our act!”
Besides proclaiming “Time’s Up”, Jesus also called on people to do two things: Repent and believe.  Of course, in church we hear the word repent a lot -probably the only place it’s still in common usage, and maybe that says something about our society.   We may see that word outside the church – if you drive out to the more rural sections of Pennsylvania, you may see billboards with the word REPENT in big red letters, maybe surrounded by a drawing of flames or such.  We often water down the meaning of the word “repent” to mean putting on a long face and feeling guilty about our sins.  We want to make it an emotional thing, a very passive thing, essentially a head trip.  But that’s not how Jesus was using the word.  The Greek word, μετανοεῖτε, literally means to change direction.  As in, for the veterans among us, “About face”.  It’s not just about a change in attitude but a change in action, a change in our way of living.  If we’ve gone far astray, it may mean a kind of coming home to ourselves.
Easily said.  Not so easily done.  We’re far enough into January that, if we made any New Years resolutions, they may well be broken by now.  We know some of our attitudes and actions are self-destructive and/or harmful to others.  But we keep doing them.  We’ve all heard people vow on December 31, for example, that 2018 was the year they were stopping drinking and going vegan.  January 13 ……there they were on the couch in front of the big screen, watching the Eagles play the Falcons,  with a case of PBR and a bucket of wings nearby, and by the time the game was done, so were the wings and half the case.  And they crawled out of bed the next day with a square head and beat ourselves up for having messed up.  Though the specifics may vary, I’ve been there, and in one way or another, I suspect most of us have been too.
Here’s where our friends in AA, NA and other 12-step programs can help us.  The first three steps of AA tell us that we’re powerless over our addiction – alcohol, drugs, food, gambling, sex, shopping, whatever our chosen crutch or pacifier may be – and that our lives have become unmanageable, that we came to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity, and made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand God.  And it’s a daily thing – one day at a time.  I’m going to trust God to keep me from drinking – or shooting up – or living out whatever my addiction is – today, just for today.  Tomorrow’s another day, and we’ll deal with tomorrow when tomorrow comes, when tomorrow becomes today.  But I’m not going to drink or drug – today.
I say all this because repentance – changing direction – is an ongoing process.  There may be some dramatic moment of decision, an altar call or such, running up the aisle and kneeling at the altar and crying on the shoulder of one of the deacons. For a lot of people, that moment of decision goes no further than a moment of emotional catharsis, leading to no life change over the long haul.  Or there may not be any of that….in our Reformed tradition, discipleship is often more a matter of quietly allowing ourselves to be formed into God’s pattern of life gradually, without a lot of emotionalism ……and I have to put it out there, that we’re saved by faith, not by feelings, not by drama.  But the repentance of which Jesus spoke is an ongoing thing, a daily thing.   It may be loud, or it may be quiet, but it always is daily.  The tense of the Greek word μετανοεῖτε implies ongoing, continuous action…..so it’s not just “repent one time and you’re done” but rather “keep on repenting”.   Keep on being open to changing direction.  Keep on living into God’s will…..one day at a time.
Jesus called on people, not only to repent, but to believe.  And again, we’ve watered down the word believe.   We want to make believing a very passive sort of thing – a matter of carrying thoughts in our head that don’t necessarily result in action.  We recite the Apostles Creed every week, but it’s head knowledge, and may not make much difference in how we live on a daily basis.  We may believe in God in the same way we believe that Harrisburg is the capital of Pennsylvania – we know God is up there somewhere and Harrisburg is out there somewhere in the middle of the state, but aside from telling me where to mail my tax check, that info may make very little difference in our lives.  If the state capitol were moved to Philly or Pittsburgh or Podunk, I’d just mail my tax return there instead, and otherwise I wouldn’t give it a second thought. But the kind of believing of which Jesus spoke is a kind of radical trust – basically putting our lives in Jesus’ hands, staking our lives on Jesus.  Sort of like if we’re seriously ill and have to have surgery that in the short term causes pain and leaves us weak – may for a short time leave us feeling worse than before the surgery - but we do it because we trust the doctor’s words that this surgery will lead to healing.  Or sort of like when a relationship deepens to the point where we’re ready to commit to a spouse or partner for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, and all the rest – basically each spouse puts his or her life in the other’s hands.  And that’s the level of trust and commitment Jesus asks of us when he asks us to believe.
We see what it looks like to repent – change direction – and to believe – to stake their lives on Jesus - in Jesus’ call to his disciples.  Jesus walks along the shoreline, sees Simon and Andrew casting their nets, and says to them, “Come, and I will make you fish for people”.  And they drop everything and follow Jesus.  Further down the shoreline, Jesus sees James and John in their boat, calls to them, “Follow me”, and they drop everything to follow Jesus, leaving their father Zebedee and the hired men behind in the boat.   Simon and Andrew, James and John, these fishermen drop everything to follow Jesus.
Now, I don’t know about you, but that just boggles my mind.  “They left their nets…..they left their boat…..they left their father and the hired men behind in the boat……”.. that makes my head want to explode.  Who are these people?  Who acts like that?  By nature, I’m a cautious person.  I don’t do drama, and I don’t make impulsive decisions, and while I welcome everybody, it takes me a really long time to trust people enough to rely on them.  And I’m kind of predictable.  I sometimes joke to my pastor colleagues who preach without manuscripts that I have all the spontaneity of a player piano, and so I want my sermon on paper in front of me.  And as I say that, I just shrug my shoulders….that’s just how I roll, just how I’m wired.  If you want predictable reliability, I can do that.  If you want surprises, find somebody else; I’m just not your guy.  Uh-uh.  For me, switching from Coke to Pepsi, or the other way around, is a big adjustment, fraught with as much trauma as I want to deal with on an average day.
But Simon and Andrew, James and John dropped everything to follow someone they’d just met.  They didn’t just sit in the boat and feel bad about their sins and then go back to fishing…they left their lives behind. The only way I can understand that, at least in this stage in my life, is that they couldn’t have been feeling much fulfillment or joy in their lives as they were.  Think of what happened when Jesus called the rich young ruler to sell all he had, give to the poor, and follow him, and then think of the blind beggar Bartimaeus, who cried out to Jesus for healing.  The rich guy wouldn’t follow Jesus, because he couldn’t leave his wealth behind, couldn’t leave his comfortable life behind.  By contrast, when Jesus heard the cry of blind Bartimaeus and asked what he could do for him, Bartimaeus didn’t have to think very long and hard – he told Jesus he wanted to see again.  And Bartimaeus didn’t have to ponder much whether to follow Jesus after he’d been healed. Compared to the rich young ruler’s comforts and wealth, the way of Jesus looked really scary. Compared to what Bartimaeus had – a filthy beggar’s cloak and not much else, the way of Jesus looked really good.  And maybe that’s how is was for those first disciples, for Simon and Andrew, James and John, as well. 
It’s worthwhile putting this story side to side with the story of Jonah.  Like Jesus’ disciples, Jonah was called by God to preach in Nineveh.  The thing is, though, that Jonah didn’t drop everything and follow God’s call, at least not initially.  In fact, Jonah’s first response was to drop everything and take the first ferry boat in the opposite direction of Nineveh.  It’s only after Jonah got tossed off the boat and swallowed by a whale and coughed up right back where he started, that Jonah did what God asked of him, and that was our reading today.  Jonah’s first response was the opposite of belief; he had no trust in God whatever, and no love for the people of Nineveh.  And I have to confess, there are when I feel God is calling me to do something or say something, when I feel like Jonah and want to run away.  I want to tell God, “Leave me alone.  There are hundreds of thousands of Christians in Philadelphia.  Find someone else to take that on.”  And this is the opposite of belief, the opposite of trust.
How about us?  Have we listened for God’s call in our lives?  And are we willing to drop everything to respond to the call of Jesus?  Or do we act like Jonah – as I am tempted to do sometimes – and try to run away?  Or maybe try to squeeze God’s call into a little tiny corner of our schedule and otherwise go on with our lives as always?
And how do we know it’s the call of Jesus?  After all, we’re probably not going to see Jesus physically drop in at our office or shop floor and say “Follow me.”  God’s probably not going to send a whale to show up at our front door and ring the doorbell – “Hello, I’m a whale, and I’m here to take you to Nineveh or Kensington because God wants you there.”  So how do we know it’s not just our own motivations – wanting to stroke our ego by being recognized, wanting to relieve our guilt by sacrificing and serving.   There are plenty of pastors in pulpits who were never called by God, who just want to be the center of attention and to dominate or manipulate other people, along with more than a few outright predators – as it’s said among clergy sometimes, “some are sent, and some just went.”  Here’s where the church can help.  If you feel God may be calling you to do something new, to step out in faith, but you’re not sure, it may be helpful to discuss it with the pastor or with some of the leaders or longtime members.  I or others may be able to ask questions or share from our life experience or suggest resources to bring more clarity to the decision.  But then, if you’re clear on what God is asking of you….then it’s time to commit.
“Follow me,” Jesus said.  “Follow me, and I will have you fishing for people.”  For the sake of our neighborhood, as well as for our own sake, and for the sake of Emanuel Church, may we be following, and may we be fishing.  May the Risen Christ open our ears to hear his call, and where he leads, may we follow. Amen.