During the week I was away in early November, I was with a delegation from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference of the United Church of Christ to Cuba, visiting churches in Havana and other areas on the western end of the island. On our last morning there, we were in the Jose Marti Airport in Havana, awaiting a flight to Miami. We arrived in plenty of time, cleared customs and immigration – and waited. As we glanced at our boarding passes, we noticed they didn’t actually have seat numbers listed; where they should have been listed, it said “XXX”. Had we been put on standby? Then one of our group happened to look at the flight board, and noticed that our flight number wasn’t listed. We figured, “well, maybe it’ll show up later.” An hour later, our flight number still wasn’t there. No seat number. No flight on the board. None of this seemed promising. Uh oh. So we searched for assistance, but they didn’t actually have any one standing at the gate who seemed to be running things. Occasionally we’d see someone scurry by who looked somewhat official, and we’d ask why our flight wasn’t up on the board. Answers were vague, but they tried to assure us, “don’t worry.” As it happened, there were one or two other English speaking groups waiting flights, and we talked with them – and their flights weren’t on the board either. And come to think of it, I hadn’t actually seen any planes take off. What’s going on? Cuba is big on centralized planning of production and the economy – where were their vaunted central planners when you need them?
By this time I had visions of being stranded forever in Cuba and never seeing my loved ones again. Occasionally we’d see someone in a uniform and would press them for information, but we just kept getting the same vague response – don’t worry. We ran into one traveler who had traveled to Cuba and back a number of times, and she told us – the flight board never has the right flights listed; in all the times she’d flown to Cuba, her flights had never shown up on the board – and not to worry. Eventually we started hearing flight announcements – sure enough, for flights not listed on the board. This made me feel a little better, but I wasn’t confident in my ability to recognize the announcement for our flight, being spoken quickly in Spanish over a crackly intercom system. We saw the first plane for the morning take off – well, that had to be a good sign. A bit later, our flight was announced – and sure enough, just at departure, literally while we were walking toward the door leading to our plane, our flight number finally popped up on the flight board. And our flight made it to Miami, slightly late, but in plenty of time to make our connections to our flight to Philly. As is the custom with flights to and from Cuba, when we landed, everyone clapped. And all our worry was for naught.
This morning, the final Sunday in the liturgical calendar, is traditionally known as Christ the King Sunday or, in inclusive language, Reign of Christ Sunday. It’s a Sunday when we remember that Christ rules, not only over our hearts, but over everything in creation. We may remember the words of Handel’s Messiah – “the kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord, and of his Christ, and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.”
And yet, we need only read the newspaper or look out our window to see a world that seems entirely out of control, in which signs of Jesus’ reign are seemingly impossible to find. This week, we approach Thanksgiving during the most difficult economic times our country has had in recent memory. It seems that our financial leaders have learned nothing from last year’s near-meltdown of the economy, and the billion-dollar bonus gravy train rolls along undisturbed, while millions are out of work and relying on food cupboards and soup kitchens to keep body and soul – and those of their families - together. Many of our political leaders engage in a peculiarly dysfunctional form of honesty – when they’re bought and paid for, they stay bought and paid for, being entirely loyal to those who write them big checks for their campaigns. Many no longer even bother to pretend to care about their constituents. Worldwide, the proverbial four horsemen of the apocalypse – war, pestilence, famine, death – ride grimly along on their mission of destruction. We may feel a bit like my group did while waiting for our flight – who’s in charge here? Is anyone in charge here? Anyone?
During these difficult times, we may be tempted to misinterpret Jesus’ words to Pilate in our Gospel reading this morning. Older translations quote Jesus as saying, “my kingdom is not of this world.” This has often been taken to mean that the reign of Jesus has nothing to do with our daily lives here on earth, that it’s only a promise of pie in the sky by and by when we die. Life on earth can be, in the memorable words of Hobbes, “nasty, brutish, and short,” and only when we die can we go to heaven and experience what it is for Jesus to reign. This is one way in which many Christians over the centuries have reconciled the beautiful promises of God’s reign to the ugly reality they face day after day. And one of the reasons church folk are often accused of being so heavenly-minded we’re of no earthly good.
But I don’t think that’s what Jesus had in mind. The New Revised Standard Version, from which I read today, quotes Jesus, “my kingdom is not from this world,” meaning, it doesn’t originate here, it doesn’t depend on wealth or military strength or political machinations or any of the other ways in which earthly rulers cling like grim death to power. This can be useful for us to remember when we’re tempted to associate a particular political party or the actions of our national leadership with the reign of God.
At the same time, while Jesus’ reign is not from this world, it’s very definitely in this world, indeed intimately involved in this world, in this country, in this neighborhood. One of the most familiar verses in the New Testament begins, “God so loved the world…..” and that hasn’t changed. The writers of the Gospels saw Jesus’ acts of healing, feeding and teaching, not only as directed at the individuals being helped, but as Jesus’ tackling and overcoming the powers of darkness that keep people sick, hungry and ignorant, as signs of the Kingdom of God in their midst. Jesus’ reign is deeply counter to our culture. Our culture tells us that kingdoms are maintained by what Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann has called our world’s unholy trinity of autonomy, anxiety, and greed, which is propped up by wealth, political power, and military might. Jesus’ reign is different – it is like seeds of kindness and caring, growing silently and invisibly until ready to bear fruit, and reproduce more seeds to bear still more fruit for the future.
So what do these seeds look like? When Jesus of Nazareth walked the earth, they looked like acts of healing, feeding, and teaching. Here in Bridesburg, they may look like our food cupboard. They may look like Christian education programs and youth programs to help neighborhood children avoid bad influences and grow up knowing there are loved by their families and by God. They may look like our neighborhood’s small congregations, doing what we can with the resources we have to bring God’s love to our neighbor. They may look like you and like me.
As I’ve said before, more than once, we live in an in-between time – Jesus proclaimed the coming of the kingdom of God, and while it is here, it is not fully here. We live in the space between “already” and “not yet.” In this in-between time where the kingdom is here already, but not yet fully, God calls us to mission in our neighborhood and in our world. And God calls us to have faith in that coming day when God’s reign will be fully established, when all that brings sorrow and sighing will be no more, when we will be gathered together forever in the presence of a loving God. On that day there will be singing and praise – and maybe, as on my flight from Cuba to Miami, a round of applause that after all we’ve seen and done and been through, we’ve landed safely, and are finally truly home. Amen.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Family Portraits - A Slightly Late All Saints Day Sermon
Today we’re celebrating All Saints Day a week later than the liturgical calendar would indicate, due to my absence last week. But in terms of the scriptures for the week (Ruth 3:1-5; Ruth 4:13-17), I’m actually glad we’re a week late, because the Scriptures work really well for an All Saints observance, for remembering our family members who have gone before us to be with God.
We have some tender, touching passages today from the book of Ruth. We discussed the book of Ruth two weeks ago during our church school hour, but for those who weren’t with us for the discussion, here’s some context – Naomi, her husband Elimelech, and their sons Mahlon and Chiliab are driven by famine from Bethlehem of Judah to the land of Moab. The sons marry Moabite women, Orpah (not Oprah) and Ruth. First Elimelech the husband dies, and then both sons die, leaving Naomi and her two daughters in law bereaved and destitute in a strange land. Despairing, Naomi decides to make her way back to Judah – she heard the famine had eased there. Naomi thanked her two daughters in law for their great kindness to her, and bid them to return to their respective families, for Naomi had no more to offer them. Orpah reluctantly complies, but Ruth clings to Naomi, telling her, “where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people will be my people, and your God my God; where you die I will die and there I will be buried; may the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!” So Naomi and her loyal daughter in law Ruth make their way back to Judah, where Ruth gleans grain – picks up the leftovers that the harvesters missed - from the field of Boaz, a kinsman of Ruth. Boaz, shall we say, takes a shine to Ruth, and allows her to glean more grain than usual. Here’s where our reading today picks up – with Ruth, shall we say, working her feminine charms on Boaz. Boaz and Ruth marry, and bear a son, who becomes an ancestor of King David, and ultimately, of Jesus.
In the Bible we encounter many literary forms – poetry, proverbs or wisdom teaching, prophetic teaching. We encounter wide-ranging historical narration and biographical information. In the Epistles, we encounter theological interpretation of how the history of the Jewish people and the life of Jesus are to inform the life of God’s gathered people. God speaks to us in these varied ways, and we frequently find them wide-ranging, heady, covering thousands of years of time and hundreds of miles of geography. Yet every now and then, the focus narrows to a single individual – a Moses or a David, or John the Baptist or Jesus or Paul – or a family – Abraham and Sarah – or, as in today’s Gospel, Naomi and Ruth.
When we think of God’s reign, of God working out God’s purpose in the world, we often think of grand scale events – plagues, manna from heaven, mass feedings – all those spectacular events that were the stuff of the Cecil B. DeMille sagas of bygone decades. Yet in today’s reading, God’s purpose was carried out by a bereaved and at times bitter widow and her foreign-born, yet loyal, daughter-in-law, former refugees returning to a homeland in search of daily bread, eking out a precarious existence from the leftovers of those more prosperous than they, relying on the benevolence of distant relatives. We have an utterly charming, heartwarming family portrait of an ordinary life used in extraordinary ways.
In my almost two years – has it really been that long? – as your pastor, it has often been my privilege to hear the stories of your fathers and mothers, the saints of Emanuel Church. Like today’s Gospel reading, they are often stories of ordinary people – while we had some wealthy members in the earlier years of the congregation, to my knowledge we had no Rockefellers or Carnegies here – for the most part, we were and are ordinary people whose otherwise-ordinary lives God has used to extraordinary effect in carrying out God’s will here in Bridesburg. Ordinary people showing extraordinary generosity and extraordinary commitment to make sure that God’s word could be heard and God’s people served in our little corner of creation. It could be said that they lived out the words of this old hymn:
Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to shed your light afar;
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are
Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!
I wouldn’t want us to narrow our focus to brightening only the corner where we are. Through our United Church of Christ denominational ministries and our ecumenical Bridesburg Council of Churches ministries, through ecumenical and interfaith partnerships known and unknown, we can brighten corners across the city, around the country, and across the globe. As many of you know, last week I was among a group from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference hoping to share God’s light in some difficult corners of Cuba. And yet it’s true that often God’s cannot be heard in the earthquake or the storm, but in the still small voice; that God’s reign is like the growth of tiny seeds sprouting unseen; that God’s work is carried out, not always in great deeds, but in small deeds done with great love – like the giving of the widow’s mite in our Gospel, tiny to the point of insignificance, yet recognized by Jesus as an act of total commitment - like Ruth’s small acts of loyal care for her mother-in-law, that led to her inclusion of the lineage of King David and his successors, and of our Saviour himself.
As we remember our saints – those in our bulletin today, and those who have been among the unseen cloud of witnesses for many years, may we remember how God was present in their lives. May they be an inspiration to us, we who continue on to run the race, to fight the good fight. May we continue their acts of great love, so that our lives will be among the family portraits remembered by the coming generations of the members of Emanuel United Church of Christ. Amen.
We have some tender, touching passages today from the book of Ruth. We discussed the book of Ruth two weeks ago during our church school hour, but for those who weren’t with us for the discussion, here’s some context – Naomi, her husband Elimelech, and their sons Mahlon and Chiliab are driven by famine from Bethlehem of Judah to the land of Moab. The sons marry Moabite women, Orpah (not Oprah) and Ruth. First Elimelech the husband dies, and then both sons die, leaving Naomi and her two daughters in law bereaved and destitute in a strange land. Despairing, Naomi decides to make her way back to Judah – she heard the famine had eased there. Naomi thanked her two daughters in law for their great kindness to her, and bid them to return to their respective families, for Naomi had no more to offer them. Orpah reluctantly complies, but Ruth clings to Naomi, telling her, “where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people will be my people, and your God my God; where you die I will die and there I will be buried; may the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!” So Naomi and her loyal daughter in law Ruth make their way back to Judah, where Ruth gleans grain – picks up the leftovers that the harvesters missed - from the field of Boaz, a kinsman of Ruth. Boaz, shall we say, takes a shine to Ruth, and allows her to glean more grain than usual. Here’s where our reading today picks up – with Ruth, shall we say, working her feminine charms on Boaz. Boaz and Ruth marry, and bear a son, who becomes an ancestor of King David, and ultimately, of Jesus.
In the Bible we encounter many literary forms – poetry, proverbs or wisdom teaching, prophetic teaching. We encounter wide-ranging historical narration and biographical information. In the Epistles, we encounter theological interpretation of how the history of the Jewish people and the life of Jesus are to inform the life of God’s gathered people. God speaks to us in these varied ways, and we frequently find them wide-ranging, heady, covering thousands of years of time and hundreds of miles of geography. Yet every now and then, the focus narrows to a single individual – a Moses or a David, or John the Baptist or Jesus or Paul – or a family – Abraham and Sarah – or, as in today’s Gospel, Naomi and Ruth.
When we think of God’s reign, of God working out God’s purpose in the world, we often think of grand scale events – plagues, manna from heaven, mass feedings – all those spectacular events that were the stuff of the Cecil B. DeMille sagas of bygone decades. Yet in today’s reading, God’s purpose was carried out by a bereaved and at times bitter widow and her foreign-born, yet loyal, daughter-in-law, former refugees returning to a homeland in search of daily bread, eking out a precarious existence from the leftovers of those more prosperous than they, relying on the benevolence of distant relatives. We have an utterly charming, heartwarming family portrait of an ordinary life used in extraordinary ways.
In my almost two years – has it really been that long? – as your pastor, it has often been my privilege to hear the stories of your fathers and mothers, the saints of Emanuel Church. Like today’s Gospel reading, they are often stories of ordinary people – while we had some wealthy members in the earlier years of the congregation, to my knowledge we had no Rockefellers or Carnegies here – for the most part, we were and are ordinary people whose otherwise-ordinary lives God has used to extraordinary effect in carrying out God’s will here in Bridesburg. Ordinary people showing extraordinary generosity and extraordinary commitment to make sure that God’s word could be heard and God’s people served in our little corner of creation. It could be said that they lived out the words of this old hymn:
Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to shed your light afar;
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are
Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!
I wouldn’t want us to narrow our focus to brightening only the corner where we are. Through our United Church of Christ denominational ministries and our ecumenical Bridesburg Council of Churches ministries, through ecumenical and interfaith partnerships known and unknown, we can brighten corners across the city, around the country, and across the globe. As many of you know, last week I was among a group from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference hoping to share God’s light in some difficult corners of Cuba. And yet it’s true that often God’s cannot be heard in the earthquake or the storm, but in the still small voice; that God’s reign is like the growth of tiny seeds sprouting unseen; that God’s work is carried out, not always in great deeds, but in small deeds done with great love – like the giving of the widow’s mite in our Gospel, tiny to the point of insignificance, yet recognized by Jesus as an act of total commitment - like Ruth’s small acts of loyal care for her mother-in-law, that led to her inclusion of the lineage of King David and his successors, and of our Saviour himself.
As we remember our saints – those in our bulletin today, and those who have been among the unseen cloud of witnesses for many years, may we remember how God was present in their lives. May they be an inspiration to us, we who continue on to run the race, to fight the good fight. May we continue their acts of great love, so that our lives will be among the family portraits remembered by the coming generations of the members of Emanuel United Church of Christ. Amen.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Leaving on a Jet Plane
Pastor Dave will be out of town on Sunday, November 1. The congregation elected to cancel services that Sunday. So - no services at Emanuel UCC on November 1. Please join us on November 8 at 10 a.m., when we'll hold a late All Saints commemoration and celebrate Holy Communion.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Bridesburg Health & Welfare Expo
The Bridesburg Council of Churches, which takes in six congregations from the United Methodist, Presbyterian, Episcopal, Baptist, and United Church of Christ traditions, is hosting a community health fair. Anyone in the Phila area is welcome to attend and enjoy!
Serving and Served
On the old Honeymooners TV show from the 1950’s, Jackie Gleason, playing Ralph Cramden, once went off on a rant at his wife, Alice, played by Audrey Meadows. “I’m the king…this is my house, my castle. I’m the king, and you’re nothing.” Alice, who always had the perfect comeback, put her hand on her hips and said, “King of nothing. Big deal!”
Theologians have called Mark “the gospel of the stupid disciples,” and in our Gospel reading from Mark shows Jesus’ disciples to be as self-absorbed as the Ralph Cramden character. While it’s hard to get the flow of the narrative when it’s broken up over a number of weeks, Jesus has been preparing his disciples for the suffering and death he would suffer in Jerusalem. Remember that when Jesus began this discussion, Peter took him aside and rebuked him. And now after all that’s happened in our Gospels over the past few weeks – Jesus teaching that only those who come to the kingdom like a little child can enter the kingdom, his telling the rich young ruler that he had to sell all he had and give the proceeds to the poor before he could follow Jesus – the disciples still don’t get it. They just….don’t….get it! Jesus is pouring his heart out about his upcoming betrayal – trying for the third time to prepare his disciples for what lies ahead - and James and John are angling for glory. And when the other disciples hear about their request, they’re angry – mostly because they didn’t think of it first! What a train wreck of a conversation!
Here we have contrasts between the ways of the world and the way of the cross. At some level, James and John themselves knew that what they were asking was wrong. Remember how they led into their question: “Lord, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” They tried to trap Jesus into promising to grant what at some level they knew was an unworthy request. We may remember from our reading in Mark’s gospel from a number of weeks ago that Herod’s freely promised his daughter anything she asked, even half his kingdom – and Herod’s wife took this opportunity to ask for the head of John the Baptist. And so James and John unconsciously show that despite all their time with Jesus, they were still caught up in the same worldly thinking that had led to the death of John the Baptist and would ultimately lead to the death of Jesus.
So James and John made their request. Jesus asks them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” You would think that with all Jesus had just got done saying about his upcoming suffering and death, this question might have seemed a bit ominous, might have given them pause, but no, they glibly say, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jesus responded, “You will drink the cup that I drink and be baptized with my baptism, but the places at my right and my left are not mine to appoint.” And reading this story from our perspective, we might remember that, at the crucifixion, the decision of who occupied the places to Jesus’ right and left was indeed not for Jesus to make – those places were filled by the two thieves that the Romans happened to crucify next to him.
But Jesus recognizes a teachable moment when he sees one, and so he makes contrast between the ways of the world and the way of discipleship: “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them.” Remember that Jesus disciples were Jews, and to have Jesus compare their behavior to that of Gentiles would have brought them up short, been seen as a rebuke – “you’re acting like Gentiles” – ouch! But Jesus goes on, “But it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”
The ways of the world versus the way of the cross….We all know too well the truth of Jesus’ words about the ways of the world. There’s a part of all of us – me too – that wants a place of glory – be it the biggest house on our block, the corner office at work, political office, our name in lights. And the draw isn’t just visibility, it’s the ability to throw our weight around, to have our way. Maybe you’ve seen the cartoon about the CEO who chews out a manager at work….and the manager yells at his flunkie, who goes home and yells at his wife, who yells at the kid, who kicks the dog. That cartoon sums up the way of the world, what theologians such as Walter Brueggeman and Walter Wink call the world’s domination system. And it’s not just true at the individual level; for many, our national pride as Americans is tied up in being the wealthiest and the strongest militarily, in being able, not just to set policies for ourselves, but to shape and mold the course of events in the world.
And too often even in the church it’s no different. Career pastors – unless they’re easing into retirement and want to slow down – if they want to leave their current pulpit, normally seek a call from a bigger congregation than the one they’re serving, and calls to the prominent “tall steeple” churches are highly sought. And lay leaders and members of larger, more prominent congregations thrive on their congregation’s prominent identity and recognition in the community. A megachurch with praise bands and multiple choirs and a paid staff of multiple pastors and professional counselors can offer a lot more glitz and glamour and glory to pastors and members alike than a small “St John’s by the gas station” country church or a small, struggling city congregation. Unfortunately, for us, as individuals anyway, when we die, we really can’t take all that with us – or as the Latin phrase goes “sic transit gloria mundi” – so passes the glory of the world. In the end, we really are, in Alice Kramden’s phrase, the king of nothing.
Jesus offers a different path. “But it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” In recent years even the term “servant leadership” has been co-opted and corrupted by motivational speakers from the corporate culture, but the way of Jesus is the way of humble service. Even in the secular world, it’s been recognized that if there’s something that you really want to get done in an organization, it may be easier if you’re not too fussy about who gets the credit, if you’re willing to let others get the glory – the question becomes, “is it more important to me that this get done, or that people know that I did it.”
In his parables, Jesus compared God’s reign to a seed, not a sledgehammer….to a seed quietly, slowly, secretly sinking roots in the ground and growing up from below, bringing new life, not to loud, heavy sledgehammer pounding from above. God’s reign comes about when one person tells another about Jesus, when one person serves another in Jesus’ name, when one person joins another and another and another in Jesus’ name to keep their block safe, when one congregation cleans up a needle park so that children can once again play safely, when one congregation joins another and another and another in feeding the hungry and clothing the naked. All quiet acts, nothing that’ll get you the corner office or your name in lights, but acts that bring the love of Jesus to hurting people, acts that help to usher in the reign of God. As John Wesley of the Methodist tradition put it, “Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.” And what we do, we are able to do because Jesus first came to serve and to give his life a ransom for many – to serve us and give his life a ransom for us.
We may remember the story of St Francis of Assisi – and our first hymn today was an adaptation of St. Francis’ Canticle of the Sun. In his youth, Francis had led a careless life, but over time gradually came to embrace a life of service. Finally, a confrontation came between Francis and his wealthy father, when Francis renounced his father and his inheritance, and even left behind the clothes he was wearing, and founded an order devoted to a life of poverty and service, in contrast to the corruption of the church hierarchies of his day. I’ll close with his famous prayer:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
Please join us for worship at Emanuel United Church of Christ (Fillmore St off Thompson) on Sundays at 10 a.m. www.emanuelphila.org
Theologians have called Mark “the gospel of the stupid disciples,” and in our Gospel reading from Mark shows Jesus’ disciples to be as self-absorbed as the Ralph Cramden character. While it’s hard to get the flow of the narrative when it’s broken up over a number of weeks, Jesus has been preparing his disciples for the suffering and death he would suffer in Jerusalem. Remember that when Jesus began this discussion, Peter took him aside and rebuked him. And now after all that’s happened in our Gospels over the past few weeks – Jesus teaching that only those who come to the kingdom like a little child can enter the kingdom, his telling the rich young ruler that he had to sell all he had and give the proceeds to the poor before he could follow Jesus – the disciples still don’t get it. They just….don’t….get it! Jesus is pouring his heart out about his upcoming betrayal – trying for the third time to prepare his disciples for what lies ahead - and James and John are angling for glory. And when the other disciples hear about their request, they’re angry – mostly because they didn’t think of it first! What a train wreck of a conversation!
Here we have contrasts between the ways of the world and the way of the cross. At some level, James and John themselves knew that what they were asking was wrong. Remember how they led into their question: “Lord, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” They tried to trap Jesus into promising to grant what at some level they knew was an unworthy request. We may remember from our reading in Mark’s gospel from a number of weeks ago that Herod’s freely promised his daughter anything she asked, even half his kingdom – and Herod’s wife took this opportunity to ask for the head of John the Baptist. And so James and John unconsciously show that despite all their time with Jesus, they were still caught up in the same worldly thinking that had led to the death of John the Baptist and would ultimately lead to the death of Jesus.
So James and John made their request. Jesus asks them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” You would think that with all Jesus had just got done saying about his upcoming suffering and death, this question might have seemed a bit ominous, might have given them pause, but no, they glibly say, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jesus responded, “You will drink the cup that I drink and be baptized with my baptism, but the places at my right and my left are not mine to appoint.” And reading this story from our perspective, we might remember that, at the crucifixion, the decision of who occupied the places to Jesus’ right and left was indeed not for Jesus to make – those places were filled by the two thieves that the Romans happened to crucify next to him.
But Jesus recognizes a teachable moment when he sees one, and so he makes contrast between the ways of the world and the way of discipleship: “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them.” Remember that Jesus disciples were Jews, and to have Jesus compare their behavior to that of Gentiles would have brought them up short, been seen as a rebuke – “you’re acting like Gentiles” – ouch! But Jesus goes on, “But it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”
The ways of the world versus the way of the cross….We all know too well the truth of Jesus’ words about the ways of the world. There’s a part of all of us – me too – that wants a place of glory – be it the biggest house on our block, the corner office at work, political office, our name in lights. And the draw isn’t just visibility, it’s the ability to throw our weight around, to have our way. Maybe you’ve seen the cartoon about the CEO who chews out a manager at work….and the manager yells at his flunkie, who goes home and yells at his wife, who yells at the kid, who kicks the dog. That cartoon sums up the way of the world, what theologians such as Walter Brueggeman and Walter Wink call the world’s domination system. And it’s not just true at the individual level; for many, our national pride as Americans is tied up in being the wealthiest and the strongest militarily, in being able, not just to set policies for ourselves, but to shape and mold the course of events in the world.
And too often even in the church it’s no different. Career pastors – unless they’re easing into retirement and want to slow down – if they want to leave their current pulpit, normally seek a call from a bigger congregation than the one they’re serving, and calls to the prominent “tall steeple” churches are highly sought. And lay leaders and members of larger, more prominent congregations thrive on their congregation’s prominent identity and recognition in the community. A megachurch with praise bands and multiple choirs and a paid staff of multiple pastors and professional counselors can offer a lot more glitz and glamour and glory to pastors and members alike than a small “St John’s by the gas station” country church or a small, struggling city congregation. Unfortunately, for us, as individuals anyway, when we die, we really can’t take all that with us – or as the Latin phrase goes “sic transit gloria mundi” – so passes the glory of the world. In the end, we really are, in Alice Kramden’s phrase, the king of nothing.
Jesus offers a different path. “But it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” In recent years even the term “servant leadership” has been co-opted and corrupted by motivational speakers from the corporate culture, but the way of Jesus is the way of humble service. Even in the secular world, it’s been recognized that if there’s something that you really want to get done in an organization, it may be easier if you’re not too fussy about who gets the credit, if you’re willing to let others get the glory – the question becomes, “is it more important to me that this get done, or that people know that I did it.”
In his parables, Jesus compared God’s reign to a seed, not a sledgehammer….to a seed quietly, slowly, secretly sinking roots in the ground and growing up from below, bringing new life, not to loud, heavy sledgehammer pounding from above. God’s reign comes about when one person tells another about Jesus, when one person serves another in Jesus’ name, when one person joins another and another and another in Jesus’ name to keep their block safe, when one congregation cleans up a needle park so that children can once again play safely, when one congregation joins another and another and another in feeding the hungry and clothing the naked. All quiet acts, nothing that’ll get you the corner office or your name in lights, but acts that bring the love of Jesus to hurting people, acts that help to usher in the reign of God. As John Wesley of the Methodist tradition put it, “Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.” And what we do, we are able to do because Jesus first came to serve and to give his life a ransom for many – to serve us and give his life a ransom for us.
We may remember the story of St Francis of Assisi – and our first hymn today was an adaptation of St. Francis’ Canticle of the Sun. In his youth, Francis had led a careless life, but over time gradually came to embrace a life of service. Finally, a confrontation came between Francis and his wealthy father, when Francis renounced his father and his inheritance, and even left behind the clothes he was wearing, and founded an order devoted to a life of poverty and service, in contrast to the corruption of the church hierarchies of his day. I’ll close with his famous prayer:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
Please join us for worship at Emanuel United Church of Christ (Fillmore St off Thompson) on Sundays at 10 a.m. www.emanuelphila.org
Monday, October 12, 2009
Open Hands, Open Hearts
When I was a little kid, my parents gave me a red and white tricycle. And I loved that tricycle. When I was little, my coordination wasn’t too cool yet, so that if I tried to run fast, I’d inevitably trip over my feet and land on the ground. (Come to think of it, that’s what happens now when I try to run fast….) But on a tricycle I could go really fast. Nothing could stop me! And my tricycle and I were inseparable - I wanted to take my tricycle everywhere. Of course, when you are little, there are places your parents want to take you, where you can’t ride your tricycle….like the beach. Or an amusement park. Or even a grocery store. But my parents and I had some interesting conversations – well, maybe more like they talked and I howled - about why the tricycle that helped me go really fast when I was home, would just get in the way at the beach. And, of course, it’s now been more than 40 years since I’ve felt any need to ride a tricycle; it landed on the scrap heap decades ago.
Today we are continuing in Mark’s gospel in what some have called the “hard sayings” of Jesus. We walk alongside Jesus on the path that will ultimately lead him to the cross. As Jesus laid down His life, as His disciples, we, too, will have to lay aside those things that would distract us from following in his way. But we are promised that as Jesus was raised, we, too, will find new life as we follow in the way of Jesus.
In last week’s Gospel reading, Jesus faced hostile questioning from the Pharisees on the controversial topic of marriage. In this week’s Gospel (Mark 10:17-31), Jesus is questioned by a man who seemingly has everything he could want, but somehow senses that something is missing. We’re told that this wealthy man ran up to Jesus and knelt before him. And unlike the Pharisees, he was not a hostile questioner. Normally this young man might have had people running up to him to ask for assistance, so this rich man had genuinely humbled himself before Jesus. With all that he had, he still felt something lacking. “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus asks the man to consider his own words: “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Mark’s is thought to have been the earliest Gospel written, and Mark doesn’t hit his readers over the head with evidence of Jesus’ divinity, but more or less lets his readers figure out for themselves who Jesus is, and how to respond to this realization.
Then Jesus leads the man to consider his own religious training: “You know the commandments – “Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not bear false witness, do not defraud, honor your father and your mother.” The man replies, “All these I have kept from my youth.” And yet, something is missing, or else why would the man seemingly be asking Jesus for something more.
Mark tells us that Jesus, looking at the man, loved him – Jesus saw the man was not trying to trip him up, but was utterly sincere in his seeking. And we know that sometimes we have to say difficult things to those we love, for their own good. Like a doctor diagnosing a patient and offering a cure, Jesus saw into the man’s life and said, “You lack one thing. Go, sell what you own and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” The man was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions. And as we read, we can almost feel the man’s heartbreak at Jesus’ words, and Jesus’ sadness at the man’s response to his words.
Jesus said, “How hard it will be for those with wealth to enter the Kingdom of God.” The disciples didn’t know what to think, because the theology of the day saw wealth as God’s reward for righteous behavior. And certainly many of our TV preachers tell us their version of the very same thing – “God wants you rich.” Jesus, who evidently doesn’t take advice from the prosperity gospel folks, went on, “It will be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of Heaven.” The disciples were even more astounded and said, “Then who can be saved.” Jesus said, “for people it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
“With God all things are possible.” We don’t know what ultimately happened with the rich young man. He may have told his companions, “I went to Jesus and asked to follow him, but Jesus asked too much.” Or Jesus’ words may have worked in the man’s mind and spirit over many days, and he may later have done as Jesus instructed. As Mark’s gospel does so often, we are only given a snapshot, not the entire movie down to the closing credits.
What are we to make of Jesus’ words to the rich young man? As I look around this sanctuary, I’m not seeing a lot of wealthy people. None of us have piles of extra cash lying around, and some of us are really struggling to get by. So there may be a temptation to dismiss the story as not applicable. On the other hand, compared to people in many countries in Africa and Mexico and South America, if we’re able to eat every day, we’re well-off indeed. And on the other other hand – I think I’m up to three hands now – does this story apply only to financial wealth?
I suspect it’s not entirely a coincidence that Mark places this story shortly after Jesus’ words – which we read two weeks ago - that go along the lines of, “if your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out,” and “if your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off, better to enter eternal life with one than to enter hell with both.” The idea being that to the extent that we are put anything in this life before our commitment to following Jesus – even though it may be perfectly harmless in and of itself – it will inevitably lead us astray and cause us to stumble, to sin. In the case of the rich young man, it was his attachment to his possessions that caused him to miss the abundance that God offered him. Perhaps at some level he was aware of this even before he approached Jesus; or perhaps he couldn’t quite put his finger on the cause of his spiritual restlessness. Certainly he was aware that for all his possessions, something was missing; else he wouldn’t have approached Jesus in the first place. And certainly Jesus’ words brought complete clarity to the choice before the rich young man. Like cutting off a hand or plucking out an eye, parting with his possessions would have felt, for the rich young man, like an amputation.
I began my sermon by telling you about how attached I was long ago to my tricycle. As a pre-schooler, I looked at life in terms of “can I take my tricycle,” and if the answer was “no”, I howled in protest – missing the point that there were lots of fun things to do that didn’t involve tricycles. And I think that we miss the point of the story only if we look at what we’re asked to give up. God wishes to bless us with life that is not only eternal but abundant – rich in the spiritual blessings that come with walking in the way of Jesus. God comes to us not to deprive, but to give – indeed, no one can outgive God - but we cannot receive what God has to offer if our hands are clenched around something else that we feel we cannot live without. And we cannot follow where Jesus wishes to lead if we are stuck in some particular place that we feel we cannot leave. So while this story is about financial wealth, it’s not just about financial wealth – it’s about anything we take for granted, any kind of privilege, be it possessions or position of respect in society or a job title that gives us the right to be obeyed – it may even be personal attitudes that keep us focused on ourselves and oblivious to a community around us in need of Good News - all this we must be willing to lay aside to follow where Jesus leads.
The response of the disciples underscores all this. Peter began to say to him, “Look we have left everything and followed you.” In Mark’s gospel, the disciples in general and Peter in particular so often miss the point, but this time Peter’s words were spot on – he got exactly what Jesus was saying. Contrast Jesus’ response to Peter with his words to the rich young man: “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and the sake of the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age – houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields – with persecutions – and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” As we become a part of the life of the church, of the community of faith, those around us go from being folks who sit next to us in church to being our family of faith, mothers and sisters and brothers. And even in our small congregation, we celebrate each others’ joys and support each other in our times of loss. We are not left to our own resources, but we have access to those of the community as well. And, yes, there may be persecutions – this way of living runs counter to what our culture tells us, and our neighbors may not understand us.
May Emanuel Church continue to be, as we have been for nearly 150 years, a place of open hands and open hearts. May we be a place where those seeking to follow Jesus will find spiritual abundance – a supportive community nurturing of faith. And where Jesus leads, may we follow. Amen.
Today we are continuing in Mark’s gospel in what some have called the “hard sayings” of Jesus. We walk alongside Jesus on the path that will ultimately lead him to the cross. As Jesus laid down His life, as His disciples, we, too, will have to lay aside those things that would distract us from following in his way. But we are promised that as Jesus was raised, we, too, will find new life as we follow in the way of Jesus.
In last week’s Gospel reading, Jesus faced hostile questioning from the Pharisees on the controversial topic of marriage. In this week’s Gospel (Mark 10:17-31), Jesus is questioned by a man who seemingly has everything he could want, but somehow senses that something is missing. We’re told that this wealthy man ran up to Jesus and knelt before him. And unlike the Pharisees, he was not a hostile questioner. Normally this young man might have had people running up to him to ask for assistance, so this rich man had genuinely humbled himself before Jesus. With all that he had, he still felt something lacking. “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus asks the man to consider his own words: “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Mark’s is thought to have been the earliest Gospel written, and Mark doesn’t hit his readers over the head with evidence of Jesus’ divinity, but more or less lets his readers figure out for themselves who Jesus is, and how to respond to this realization.
Then Jesus leads the man to consider his own religious training: “You know the commandments – “Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not bear false witness, do not defraud, honor your father and your mother.” The man replies, “All these I have kept from my youth.” And yet, something is missing, or else why would the man seemingly be asking Jesus for something more.
Mark tells us that Jesus, looking at the man, loved him – Jesus saw the man was not trying to trip him up, but was utterly sincere in his seeking. And we know that sometimes we have to say difficult things to those we love, for their own good. Like a doctor diagnosing a patient and offering a cure, Jesus saw into the man’s life and said, “You lack one thing. Go, sell what you own and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” The man was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions. And as we read, we can almost feel the man’s heartbreak at Jesus’ words, and Jesus’ sadness at the man’s response to his words.
Jesus said, “How hard it will be for those with wealth to enter the Kingdom of God.” The disciples didn’t know what to think, because the theology of the day saw wealth as God’s reward for righteous behavior. And certainly many of our TV preachers tell us their version of the very same thing – “God wants you rich.” Jesus, who evidently doesn’t take advice from the prosperity gospel folks, went on, “It will be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of Heaven.” The disciples were even more astounded and said, “Then who can be saved.” Jesus said, “for people it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
“With God all things are possible.” We don’t know what ultimately happened with the rich young man. He may have told his companions, “I went to Jesus and asked to follow him, but Jesus asked too much.” Or Jesus’ words may have worked in the man’s mind and spirit over many days, and he may later have done as Jesus instructed. As Mark’s gospel does so often, we are only given a snapshot, not the entire movie down to the closing credits.
What are we to make of Jesus’ words to the rich young man? As I look around this sanctuary, I’m not seeing a lot of wealthy people. None of us have piles of extra cash lying around, and some of us are really struggling to get by. So there may be a temptation to dismiss the story as not applicable. On the other hand, compared to people in many countries in Africa and Mexico and South America, if we’re able to eat every day, we’re well-off indeed. And on the other other hand – I think I’m up to three hands now – does this story apply only to financial wealth?
I suspect it’s not entirely a coincidence that Mark places this story shortly after Jesus’ words – which we read two weeks ago - that go along the lines of, “if your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out,” and “if your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off, better to enter eternal life with one than to enter hell with both.” The idea being that to the extent that we are put anything in this life before our commitment to following Jesus – even though it may be perfectly harmless in and of itself – it will inevitably lead us astray and cause us to stumble, to sin. In the case of the rich young man, it was his attachment to his possessions that caused him to miss the abundance that God offered him. Perhaps at some level he was aware of this even before he approached Jesus; or perhaps he couldn’t quite put his finger on the cause of his spiritual restlessness. Certainly he was aware that for all his possessions, something was missing; else he wouldn’t have approached Jesus in the first place. And certainly Jesus’ words brought complete clarity to the choice before the rich young man. Like cutting off a hand or plucking out an eye, parting with his possessions would have felt, for the rich young man, like an amputation.
I began my sermon by telling you about how attached I was long ago to my tricycle. As a pre-schooler, I looked at life in terms of “can I take my tricycle,” and if the answer was “no”, I howled in protest – missing the point that there were lots of fun things to do that didn’t involve tricycles. And I think that we miss the point of the story only if we look at what we’re asked to give up. God wishes to bless us with life that is not only eternal but abundant – rich in the spiritual blessings that come with walking in the way of Jesus. God comes to us not to deprive, but to give – indeed, no one can outgive God - but we cannot receive what God has to offer if our hands are clenched around something else that we feel we cannot live without. And we cannot follow where Jesus wishes to lead if we are stuck in some particular place that we feel we cannot leave. So while this story is about financial wealth, it’s not just about financial wealth – it’s about anything we take for granted, any kind of privilege, be it possessions or position of respect in society or a job title that gives us the right to be obeyed – it may even be personal attitudes that keep us focused on ourselves and oblivious to a community around us in need of Good News - all this we must be willing to lay aside to follow where Jesus leads.
The response of the disciples underscores all this. Peter began to say to him, “Look we have left everything and followed you.” In Mark’s gospel, the disciples in general and Peter in particular so often miss the point, but this time Peter’s words were spot on – he got exactly what Jesus was saying. Contrast Jesus’ response to Peter with his words to the rich young man: “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and the sake of the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age – houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields – with persecutions – and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” As we become a part of the life of the church, of the community of faith, those around us go from being folks who sit next to us in church to being our family of faith, mothers and sisters and brothers. And even in our small congregation, we celebrate each others’ joys and support each other in our times of loss. We are not left to our own resources, but we have access to those of the community as well. And, yes, there may be persecutions – this way of living runs counter to what our culture tells us, and our neighbors may not understand us.
May Emanuel Church continue to be, as we have been for nearly 150 years, a place of open hands and open hearts. May we be a place where those seeking to follow Jesus will find spiritual abundance – a supportive community nurturing of faith. And where Jesus leads, may we follow. Amen.
Hope from Hard Teachings
“If any of you put a stumbling block before any of these little ones who believe in me, it would better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.” Mark 9:42
"Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." Mark 10:14-15
October’s readings from Mark’s Gospel contain what are sometimes known as the “hard teachings” of Jesus. They actually began with our Gospel for September 27, which contained the first quote above, along with words along the lines of, “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; better to enter life maimed than to have two hands and go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.” (Note to blog reader: Jesus intended this as a metaphor. Please don’t cut off your hand.) Our Gospel reading for October 4 contains, along with Jesus’ gracious invitation “let the little children come unto me”, his radical teaching on marriage. And October 11 contains the story of the rich young ruler, whose wealth stood in the way of his accepting Jesus’ invitation to “Come, follow me.” These passages show, side by side, both God’s desire for us to experience the health and wholeness that comes with committed discipleship – regardless of the cost - and God’s tender care for the most vulnerable in our midst.
Our Old Testament readings come from the book of Job. Like many of us, Job wondered why he was afflicted by calamity in the midst of his faithful living. Theodicy is a branch of theology which attempts to reconcile God’s goodness with the evil we all experience – or in more familiar words, why bad things happen to good people. Job offers no pat answers to this age-old question – in fact, the book appears to have been written precisely to make the point that there are no easy answers. At the same time, the book affirms the ultimate goodness of God and urges us to trust even when we cannot understand.
"Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." Mark 10:14-15
October’s readings from Mark’s Gospel contain what are sometimes known as the “hard teachings” of Jesus. They actually began with our Gospel for September 27, which contained the first quote above, along with words along the lines of, “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; better to enter life maimed than to have two hands and go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.” (Note to blog reader: Jesus intended this as a metaphor. Please don’t cut off your hand.) Our Gospel reading for October 4 contains, along with Jesus’ gracious invitation “let the little children come unto me”, his radical teaching on marriage. And October 11 contains the story of the rich young ruler, whose wealth stood in the way of his accepting Jesus’ invitation to “Come, follow me.” These passages show, side by side, both God’s desire for us to experience the health and wholeness that comes with committed discipleship – regardless of the cost - and God’s tender care for the most vulnerable in our midst.
Our Old Testament readings come from the book of Job. Like many of us, Job wondered why he was afflicted by calamity in the midst of his faithful living. Theodicy is a branch of theology which attempts to reconcile God’s goodness with the evil we all experience – or in more familiar words, why bad things happen to good people. Job offers no pat answers to this age-old question – in fact, the book appears to have been written precisely to make the point that there are no easy answers. At the same time, the book affirms the ultimate goodness of God and urges us to trust even when we cannot understand.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
