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.
Monday, September 28, 2009
"Pronouns" - For Emanuel United Church of Christ's 148th anniversary
Our Old Testament reading (Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; Esther 9:20-22) is one of the few times in the lectionary that we encounter the book of Esther. The book of Esther captures a pivotal moment in the history of the Jewish people, when queen Esther’s bravery saves her people from destruction. This incident is the basis for the Jewish festival of Purim, which is still celebrated to this day. It’s one of the few places in Old Testament Scripture where, given the patriarchal society of the day, a woman was God’s chosen instrument for the salvation of the Jews.
There’s a good bit of backstory behind today’s reading, and what a soap opera it is. The story takes place when the Jews were in exile in Babylon. Esther was a descendent of Jewish exiles. The king’s former wife, Vashti, had failed to show proper respect to the king – i.e. refused to put herself on displace on the king’s half-drunken command to the kings’ half-drunken, drooling court officials - and was therefore exiled. The nerve! Who did Vashti think she was! As the king got over both his hangover and his royal temper tantrum, he soon missed Vashti, and ordered all the virgins of the land to participate in a sort of royal beauty contest, with the prize being the privilege of being the queen. Esther was one of those summoned. Ultimately Esther was deemed the most beautiful of all, and won the privilege of being queen. She deemed it prudent to hide her Jewish ancestry – her status as a descendent of the exiles - from the king. Meanwhile, Esther’s cousin, Mordecai, who had raised her, had fallen foul of Haman, one of the king’s officials, and as a result, an order was given for the execution, not only of Mordecai, but of the entirety of the Jewish people. Hearing of the order, Mordecai implored the queen to use her access to the King to save her people. Said Mordecai, “If you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” Esther replied that it was against the law for her to approach the king on her own initiative; only if he held out the royal scepter would her life be spared. Nonetheless, she said, “I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish.” Esther put her life on the line, revealed her identity, and saved her people from destruction. Haman and his supporters found themselves hanging from the very same gallows that Haman had set up for the destruction of the Jews.
Consider what must have gone through the mind of the king at this time. The king’s advisors had talked about the Jews as “those people”, as “them.” As in “not us.” As in “other than us.” As in “maybe dangerous to us.” Had the king continued to see the Jews as “not us,” as “them,” they would have been destroyed. It took brave queen Esther to go to the king and risk her life to change his view, that the Jews were not “them – those people – an abstraction” but “me, the queen, the love of your life.” Because of Esther’s bravery, the Jews were no longer “them over there” but part of “us right here.” And of course, for the King, when Jews are part of the king’s household, are family to the king, the King will work to save them. Because Jews are no longer them, but us.
You. Me. Them. Us. Pronouns that draw lines or erase them, pronouns that draw circles to include or exclude. Pronouns that often determine how we respond to our neighbor – depending on whether that neighbor is a “them” or an “us.” Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount tells us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” If we listened, what a wonderful world itwould be. In this world, though, where we live, we all carry biases that make us treat those congenial to us very well, and sometimes to treat those not congenial to us – uh…not very well. Or if we’re not hostile to the “them’s” in our life, we’re indifferent. When things happen to “them” it’s by definition “their” problem, as in “not our problem.” It doesn’t concern “us,” does it? . And I’m no exception; while I try very hard to treat everyone well, inevitably I find it an easier task with some people than with others, and the amount of energy I can bring to overcoming my biases varies from day to day and from circumstance to circumstance. So I’m preaching to myself as well.
Esther saved the Jewish people by risking her life in order to move from being a “them” to an “us.” Our society has many ways of defining “thems”. Some “thems” are relatively invisible. For the first half of the 20th century, Jews were considered outsiders to nearly as great a degree as during the time of our Old Testament reading. They were barred from some universities and from various lines of employment. Many changed their names and converted to Christianity in order to pass as “us”. The Holocaust awakened the conscience of many to the great danger of labeling and demonizing Jews as “thems.” And personal interaction also did a great deal. It’s easy to dismiss a word, an abstraction, less easy to dismiss a friend, a coworker, a neighbor right there in the flesh with whom we interact every day. And the lines between "us" and "them" shift over time. Germans, who founded our congregation, were once seen by other colonists as "them", and Ben Franklin despaired of Germans ever being able to function in proper American - that is to say, English speaking - society. Similarly, in past decades, other immigrant groups – Irish, Polish – eventually moved from being seen as a threat and considered “them” to acceptance as part of “us.” John’s Gospel speaks of Christ’s incarnation – his birth and life on earth - as “the Word becoming flesh,” but for “thems,” bridges can be built by the kind of interaction where a person labeled with a despised word – Jew or the name of some other group of “thems” – becomes right in front of you the flesh of someone you know and value, maybe love. This kind of incarnation can erase the lines between “them” and “us.” But if you’re a “them”, this interaction comes at a risk – you may be ostracized; you may be physically attacked, and one may approach such interactions with a fatalistic sense that, as Queen Esther said, “if I perish, I perish.”
While anti-semitism still rears its ugly head in various times and locations, Jews face much less overt hostility than they did 50 years ago. But evidently there’s just something in human nature – “sin” might be one descriptor - that needs a “them” to scapegoat, to hate and blame for all their problems. Nowadays, in the wake of 9-11, Muslims are very much considered as “them” – “!THEM!” in red, flashing capital letters – so much so that, my first class in seminary included a trip to a local mosque, in order to begin the process in our minds of moving Muslims from “them” to “maybe us.” Immigrants are also another “them” – while our rhetoric distinguishes between legal and illegal immigrants, in practice we tend to lump all immigrants together as “them.” We can all think of other groups of “thems” who are at best disregarded and at worst demonized. Gay folk. The mentally ill. The hungry. All the folks that get beat like a piñata and kicked around like a football during the runup to every election.
What does all this have to do with our 148th anniversary? I’d like to come back to Mordecai’s words to Esther, as Mordecai’s and Esther’s people faced destruction: “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” In other words, maybe this is why God led the King to choose Esther as queen. Behind these words is Mordecai’s deep conviction that, though his people faced grave and overwhelming danger, God was still in charge, and that by God’s providence Esther was in the position she was in for a reason.
We here at Emanuel Church are celebrating God’s care for us over the last roughly 150 years. From our founding during the time of the Civil War, our congregation has weathered a Great Depression and two World Wars. More locally, our congregation has also survived the passing of much of Bridesburg’s industrial base, as our neighborhood tries to hang on to the best of the past while finding a way to move forward. Those who have been here longer than I have, who are the living history of this congregation, have many wonderful stories of our history – our critical role in the founding of Bethany Children’s Home, now saving the lives of at-risk children and youth in Berks County, our cooperation and friendship with All Saints Roman Catholic church during their founding years. You’ve been there for the highs and lows – the comings and goings of many pastors over the years, some beloved, others who maybe didn’t quite fit, the church fights, and the reconciliations, the departure of old friends, and the arrivals of new friends.
And here we are, thanks in large part to the love and dedication of a core of dedicated members. And in the past year or two, it has been such a joy to welcome new members, from Bridesburg and nearby neighborhoods, and to have children with us in worship again. God is bringing new life in our midst. But one might ask, why are we here? Why has God enabled us to continue? I would answer, “we are here just for such a time as this?”
What kind of time is this? It’s a time in which many feel great spiritual hunger – incredibly strong need for meaning and purpose in their lives, for strength to overcome personal failings and to stand in the face of adversity, for connections to other human beings, for being part of something larger than just getting through the day - but are afraid to open the door of a church for fear of the condemnation they expect to find inside. In this economy, it’s also a time of great physical hunger, great need for food, clothing, and so many necessities of life. It’s a time in which economic and social factors put great stress on families, where it can take heroic efforts for parents to keep their children out of harm’s way and to bring them up to feel loved and valued, where parents are seeking safe and nurturing places for their children and themselves.
Why are we here? – just for such a time as this! Why are we here? – because God needs us, and because Bridesburg needs us. Why are we here? – to stand by those “thems” that the rest of society would prefer to forget, to love those whom others would hate or ignore. And as we do so, they are no longer “them”, but “us.”
It was risky for Esther to be there just at such a time as this. She had no way of knowing how the king would respond to her plea. And it’s risky for Emanuel to be here just as such a time as this. It’s risky to take on the challenges of a changing society. But it’s absolutely deadly to this congregation not to. In stepping out in faith to embrace the challenges God has set before us, we will find new life.
Our final hymn (Julian Rush’s “In the Midst of New Dimension”), from the New Century Hymnal, will be unfamiliar, and may seem like a strange choice for an anniversary Sunday. It’s a hymn about moving forward in times of uncertainty. The hymn speaks about working for peace amid conflict, about moving forward in the face of social change. But in its use of imagery such as the rainbow – sign of God’s promise to Noah never to destroy the earth – and fiery pillar – with which God led the children of Israel through the wilderness to the promised land – the hymn is a ringing affirmation of the faithfulness of God who has led Emanuel through the challenges and joys of Christian discipleship for the past nearly 150 years, and who, God willing, will continue to sustain us for many more. And the chorus is gives us a vision for the next 150 years, “we, your people; ours, the journey, now and evermore.”
There’s a good bit of backstory behind today’s reading, and what a soap opera it is. The story takes place when the Jews were in exile in Babylon. Esther was a descendent of Jewish exiles. The king’s former wife, Vashti, had failed to show proper respect to the king – i.e. refused to put herself on displace on the king’s half-drunken command to the kings’ half-drunken, drooling court officials - and was therefore exiled. The nerve! Who did Vashti think she was! As the king got over both his hangover and his royal temper tantrum, he soon missed Vashti, and ordered all the virgins of the land to participate in a sort of royal beauty contest, with the prize being the privilege of being the queen. Esther was one of those summoned. Ultimately Esther was deemed the most beautiful of all, and won the privilege of being queen. She deemed it prudent to hide her Jewish ancestry – her status as a descendent of the exiles - from the king. Meanwhile, Esther’s cousin, Mordecai, who had raised her, had fallen foul of Haman, one of the king’s officials, and as a result, an order was given for the execution, not only of Mordecai, but of the entirety of the Jewish people. Hearing of the order, Mordecai implored the queen to use her access to the King to save her people. Said Mordecai, “If you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” Esther replied that it was against the law for her to approach the king on her own initiative; only if he held out the royal scepter would her life be spared. Nonetheless, she said, “I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish.” Esther put her life on the line, revealed her identity, and saved her people from destruction. Haman and his supporters found themselves hanging from the very same gallows that Haman had set up for the destruction of the Jews.
Consider what must have gone through the mind of the king at this time. The king’s advisors had talked about the Jews as “those people”, as “them.” As in “not us.” As in “other than us.” As in “maybe dangerous to us.” Had the king continued to see the Jews as “not us,” as “them,” they would have been destroyed. It took brave queen Esther to go to the king and risk her life to change his view, that the Jews were not “them – those people – an abstraction” but “me, the queen, the love of your life.” Because of Esther’s bravery, the Jews were no longer “them over there” but part of “us right here.” And of course, for the King, when Jews are part of the king’s household, are family to the king, the King will work to save them. Because Jews are no longer them, but us.
You. Me. Them. Us. Pronouns that draw lines or erase them, pronouns that draw circles to include or exclude. Pronouns that often determine how we respond to our neighbor – depending on whether that neighbor is a “them” or an “us.” Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount tells us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” If we listened, what a wonderful world itwould be. In this world, though, where we live, we all carry biases that make us treat those congenial to us very well, and sometimes to treat those not congenial to us – uh…not very well. Or if we’re not hostile to the “them’s” in our life, we’re indifferent. When things happen to “them” it’s by definition “their” problem, as in “not our problem.” It doesn’t concern “us,” does it? . And I’m no exception; while I try very hard to treat everyone well, inevitably I find it an easier task with some people than with others, and the amount of energy I can bring to overcoming my biases varies from day to day and from circumstance to circumstance. So I’m preaching to myself as well.
Esther saved the Jewish people by risking her life in order to move from being a “them” to an “us.” Our society has many ways of defining “thems”. Some “thems” are relatively invisible. For the first half of the 20th century, Jews were considered outsiders to nearly as great a degree as during the time of our Old Testament reading. They were barred from some universities and from various lines of employment. Many changed their names and converted to Christianity in order to pass as “us”. The Holocaust awakened the conscience of many to the great danger of labeling and demonizing Jews as “thems.” And personal interaction also did a great deal. It’s easy to dismiss a word, an abstraction, less easy to dismiss a friend, a coworker, a neighbor right there in the flesh with whom we interact every day. And the lines between "us" and "them" shift over time. Germans, who founded our congregation, were once seen by other colonists as "them", and Ben Franklin despaired of Germans ever being able to function in proper American - that is to say, English speaking - society. Similarly, in past decades, other immigrant groups – Irish, Polish – eventually moved from being seen as a threat and considered “them” to acceptance as part of “us.” John’s Gospel speaks of Christ’s incarnation – his birth and life on earth - as “the Word becoming flesh,” but for “thems,” bridges can be built by the kind of interaction where a person labeled with a despised word – Jew or the name of some other group of “thems” – becomes right in front of you the flesh of someone you know and value, maybe love. This kind of incarnation can erase the lines between “them” and “us.” But if you’re a “them”, this interaction comes at a risk – you may be ostracized; you may be physically attacked, and one may approach such interactions with a fatalistic sense that, as Queen Esther said, “if I perish, I perish.”
While anti-semitism still rears its ugly head in various times and locations, Jews face much less overt hostility than they did 50 years ago. But evidently there’s just something in human nature – “sin” might be one descriptor - that needs a “them” to scapegoat, to hate and blame for all their problems. Nowadays, in the wake of 9-11, Muslims are very much considered as “them” – “!THEM!” in red, flashing capital letters – so much so that, my first class in seminary included a trip to a local mosque, in order to begin the process in our minds of moving Muslims from “them” to “maybe us.” Immigrants are also another “them” – while our rhetoric distinguishes between legal and illegal immigrants, in practice we tend to lump all immigrants together as “them.” We can all think of other groups of “thems” who are at best disregarded and at worst demonized. Gay folk. The mentally ill. The hungry. All the folks that get beat like a piñata and kicked around like a football during the runup to every election.
What does all this have to do with our 148th anniversary? I’d like to come back to Mordecai’s words to Esther, as Mordecai’s and Esther’s people faced destruction: “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” In other words, maybe this is why God led the King to choose Esther as queen. Behind these words is Mordecai’s deep conviction that, though his people faced grave and overwhelming danger, God was still in charge, and that by God’s providence Esther was in the position she was in for a reason.
We here at Emanuel Church are celebrating God’s care for us over the last roughly 150 years. From our founding during the time of the Civil War, our congregation has weathered a Great Depression and two World Wars. More locally, our congregation has also survived the passing of much of Bridesburg’s industrial base, as our neighborhood tries to hang on to the best of the past while finding a way to move forward. Those who have been here longer than I have, who are the living history of this congregation, have many wonderful stories of our history – our critical role in the founding of Bethany Children’s Home, now saving the lives of at-risk children and youth in Berks County, our cooperation and friendship with All Saints Roman Catholic church during their founding years. You’ve been there for the highs and lows – the comings and goings of many pastors over the years, some beloved, others who maybe didn’t quite fit, the church fights, and the reconciliations, the departure of old friends, and the arrivals of new friends.
And here we are, thanks in large part to the love and dedication of a core of dedicated members. And in the past year or two, it has been such a joy to welcome new members, from Bridesburg and nearby neighborhoods, and to have children with us in worship again. God is bringing new life in our midst. But one might ask, why are we here? Why has God enabled us to continue? I would answer, “we are here just for such a time as this?”
What kind of time is this? It’s a time in which many feel great spiritual hunger – incredibly strong need for meaning and purpose in their lives, for strength to overcome personal failings and to stand in the face of adversity, for connections to other human beings, for being part of something larger than just getting through the day - but are afraid to open the door of a church for fear of the condemnation they expect to find inside. In this economy, it’s also a time of great physical hunger, great need for food, clothing, and so many necessities of life. It’s a time in which economic and social factors put great stress on families, where it can take heroic efforts for parents to keep their children out of harm’s way and to bring them up to feel loved and valued, where parents are seeking safe and nurturing places for their children and themselves.
Why are we here? – just for such a time as this! Why are we here? – because God needs us, and because Bridesburg needs us. Why are we here? – to stand by those “thems” that the rest of society would prefer to forget, to love those whom others would hate or ignore. And as we do so, they are no longer “them”, but “us.”
It was risky for Esther to be there just at such a time as this. She had no way of knowing how the king would respond to her plea. And it’s risky for Emanuel to be here just as such a time as this. It’s risky to take on the challenges of a changing society. But it’s absolutely deadly to this congregation not to. In stepping out in faith to embrace the challenges God has set before us, we will find new life.
Our final hymn (Julian Rush’s “In the Midst of New Dimension”), from the New Century Hymnal, will be unfamiliar, and may seem like a strange choice for an anniversary Sunday. It’s a hymn about moving forward in times of uncertainty. The hymn speaks about working for peace amid conflict, about moving forward in the face of social change. But in its use of imagery such as the rainbow – sign of God’s promise to Noah never to destroy the earth – and fiery pillar – with which God led the children of Israel through the wilderness to the promised land – the hymn is a ringing affirmation of the faithfulness of God who has led Emanuel through the challenges and joys of Christian discipleship for the past nearly 150 years, and who, God willing, will continue to sustain us for many more. And the chorus is gives us a vision for the next 150 years, “we, your people; ours, the journey, now and evermore.”
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Kid's Stuff
The comic strip Dilbert, which was created by Scott Adams in the late 1980’s and is still relevant after 20 years, is a satire of office politics and the inane jockeying for position that comes with it. Dilbert is an engineer working in a cubicle in a large, soulless corporation. His life is an uphill struggle against despair as he submits his creative ideas to his dreaded incompetent pointy-haired boss, who doesn’t understand them, and in fact doesn’t have a clue about anything but holding onto his own position. One memorable comic strip had the pointy haired boss asking Dilbert how to turn on his computer. Dilbert wound up replacing the computer with a child’s Etch-A-Sketch toy – Dilbert told the boss that it was a newer model, and the boss didn’t know the difference anyway. Of course, the pointy-haired boss is very good indeed at holding onto his own status, and if his staff suffer in the process, so be it. So between the boss’s incompetence and maleavolence, all of Dilbert’s ideas to improve the efficiency of the office come to naught. And Dilbert’s pet dog, Dogbert, has his own ideas for taking over the world and humiliating Dilbert at every turn. Dilbert’s romantic overtures to female coworkers inevitably come to grief – stereotypically, Dilbert’s engineering creativity is matched only by his utter social incompetence, and dates always end in some surreal form of disaster. And the sociopaths in the company’s human resources department issue periodic workplace edicts in order to drain any remaining joy from Dilbert’s worklife. So Dilbert is reduced to finding meaning in his life by using a tape-measure to compare the size of his cubicle to those of his coworkers as a measure of his status. While I don’t read Dilbert much these days, I am reminded that I had a cubicle in the middle of a huge floor of cubicles when I started reading Dilbert in the late 1980’s. Now in my day job, I have an office, and some days I wonder if I haven’t turned into the dreaded pointy-haired boss I used to laugh at. If my work computer is replaced someday with an Etch-A-Sketch, I guess I’ll know for sure.
Today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel (Mark 9:30-37) reminded me of the bizarre office politics that was satirized by the Dilbert comic strip. Some theologians refer to Mark’s gospel as “the gospel of the clueless disciples.” While all of the Gospels in various ways remind us of the human limitations of the disciples, Mark –the earliest – is especially blunt in its depiction of the disciples’ persistent misunderstanding of Jesus, their master. Remember that in last week’s reading from Mark, Jesus had begun teaching his disciples that he would be rejected by the religious authorities, suffer, and die. From our perspective, we know how the story ends, but Jesus still had all this ahead of him. So Jesus is pondering his impending suffering and death; his disciples don’t understand a word he says, and are afraid to ask. And just to drive the point home, Jesus notices their silence, and asks them what they had been arguing about earlier while they were on the road. Turns out that, like Dilbert and his coworkers, they were jockeying for status, arguing about which was the greatest.
It’s notable that communication had broken down between Jesus and the disciples. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is sometime depicted as being blunt, direct, sometimes utterly without tact. He has a way of getting to the point of the matter, and if tender feelings are hurt, so be it. At one point, Jesus’ disciples were unable to heal a boy possessed by a demon, and Jesus responds by asking the crowd, “How long must I put up with you.” You can almost imagine Jesus burying his face in the palm of his hand. And so Mark’s Gospel tells us that his disciples didn’t understand him, and were afraid to ask.
So it was time for an object lesson – sort of like when our grade school teachers had “show and tell” time. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” It so happened that there was a small child nearby, and so Jesus took the child in his arms. “You want to know who’s the greatest in the kingdom. He is. And if you want to be great in the kingdom, you’ll welcome him.” “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The disciples had been busy trying to draw an organization chart for the kingdom of heaven, each with himself near the top, just under Jesus. Jesus turned their chart upside down, with servants and children at the top.
“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me….” In Jesus’ day, children had no status. While older children would eventually be able to work on the family farm or business, they would be dependent on their parents, who could sell, pawn off, or even kill their own kids if they so desired. In many ways, our society puts a much higher value on children. If you doubt that, consider what would happen if you drove past a school bus that’s picking up a child for school – when a kid gets on or off a school bus, all road traffic stops. In Pennsylvania, we also have safety-net provisions for medical care for children that don’t exist for adults. At the same time, our society can be remarkably inconsistent in our value for children. Many of those who are most vocally pro-life – making sure that pregnancies are carried to full term and delivered – can become awfully quiet when it comes time to be sure those children receive adequate food and clothing and education.
How about the church? When I became pastor of Emanuel Church, there were no children in worship on a regular basis. We still don't have many, but my warmest memories have been in watching our congregation welcome the children that have come our way in recent years. Those are the moments that keep me going! It has been some years since we've had a Sunday school for children, but perhaps one day in a few years, we'll be selecting curriculum for our primary class. To God be the glory!
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servants of all.” One way to welcome children is to welcome their parents, to be there for their parents in difficult times. This is one of the reasons I’m so excited about the expansion of the Bridesburg Council’s food ministry, held at our neighboring congregation Bridesburg Methodist. One way to welcome a child is to help their parents provide them with the necessities of life. I hope that some of our members who have time in their schedules on Monday evenings and on Tuesdays can support – and we can all help the cupboard with our financial support. I’m told that last Tuesday, they gave out a phenomenal amount of food, and the cupboard is nearly bare. Our donations will help them restock. And in terms of the need for volunteers, right now two or three members of Bridesburg Methodist are carrying almost the entire weight of the cupboard. They would be most grateful for more volunteers. I had helped put together food baskets for the Easter distribution earlier this year, but my class schedule so far has frustrated my efforts to be there to help give out food – even so, I’m hoping I can a long lunch hour now and then on some Tuesdays, so that Emanuel church can be represented.
“Truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” In these difficult days, may Emanuel Church continue to become even more of an oasis for refreshment, for our members and their children, for those who will find their way to join our congregation, to our neighbors and to all in need in our beloved community of Bridesburg. Amen.
Today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel (Mark 9:30-37) reminded me of the bizarre office politics that was satirized by the Dilbert comic strip. Some theologians refer to Mark’s gospel as “the gospel of the clueless disciples.” While all of the Gospels in various ways remind us of the human limitations of the disciples, Mark –the earliest – is especially blunt in its depiction of the disciples’ persistent misunderstanding of Jesus, their master. Remember that in last week’s reading from Mark, Jesus had begun teaching his disciples that he would be rejected by the religious authorities, suffer, and die. From our perspective, we know how the story ends, but Jesus still had all this ahead of him. So Jesus is pondering his impending suffering and death; his disciples don’t understand a word he says, and are afraid to ask. And just to drive the point home, Jesus notices their silence, and asks them what they had been arguing about earlier while they were on the road. Turns out that, like Dilbert and his coworkers, they were jockeying for status, arguing about which was the greatest.
It’s notable that communication had broken down between Jesus and the disciples. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is sometime depicted as being blunt, direct, sometimes utterly without tact. He has a way of getting to the point of the matter, and if tender feelings are hurt, so be it. At one point, Jesus’ disciples were unable to heal a boy possessed by a demon, and Jesus responds by asking the crowd, “How long must I put up with you.” You can almost imagine Jesus burying his face in the palm of his hand. And so Mark’s Gospel tells us that his disciples didn’t understand him, and were afraid to ask.
So it was time for an object lesson – sort of like when our grade school teachers had “show and tell” time. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” It so happened that there was a small child nearby, and so Jesus took the child in his arms. “You want to know who’s the greatest in the kingdom. He is. And if you want to be great in the kingdom, you’ll welcome him.” “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The disciples had been busy trying to draw an organization chart for the kingdom of heaven, each with himself near the top, just under Jesus. Jesus turned their chart upside down, with servants and children at the top.
“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me….” In Jesus’ day, children had no status. While older children would eventually be able to work on the family farm or business, they would be dependent on their parents, who could sell, pawn off, or even kill their own kids if they so desired. In many ways, our society puts a much higher value on children. If you doubt that, consider what would happen if you drove past a school bus that’s picking up a child for school – when a kid gets on or off a school bus, all road traffic stops. In Pennsylvania, we also have safety-net provisions for medical care for children that don’t exist for adults. At the same time, our society can be remarkably inconsistent in our value for children. Many of those who are most vocally pro-life – making sure that pregnancies are carried to full term and delivered – can become awfully quiet when it comes time to be sure those children receive adequate food and clothing and education.
How about the church? When I became pastor of Emanuel Church, there were no children in worship on a regular basis. We still don't have many, but my warmest memories have been in watching our congregation welcome the children that have come our way in recent years. Those are the moments that keep me going! It has been some years since we've had a Sunday school for children, but perhaps one day in a few years, we'll be selecting curriculum for our primary class. To God be the glory!
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servants of all.” One way to welcome children is to welcome their parents, to be there for their parents in difficult times. This is one of the reasons I’m so excited about the expansion of the Bridesburg Council’s food ministry, held at our neighboring congregation Bridesburg Methodist. One way to welcome a child is to help their parents provide them with the necessities of life. I hope that some of our members who have time in their schedules on Monday evenings and on Tuesdays can support – and we can all help the cupboard with our financial support. I’m told that last Tuesday, they gave out a phenomenal amount of food, and the cupboard is nearly bare. Our donations will help them restock. And in terms of the need for volunteers, right now two or three members of Bridesburg Methodist are carrying almost the entire weight of the cupboard. They would be most grateful for more volunteers. I had helped put together food baskets for the Easter distribution earlier this year, but my class schedule so far has frustrated my efforts to be there to help give out food – even so, I’m hoping I can a long lunch hour now and then on some Tuesdays, so that Emanuel church can be represented.
“Truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” In these difficult days, may Emanuel Church continue to become even more of an oasis for refreshment, for our members and their children, for those who will find their way to join our congregation, to our neighbors and to all in need in our beloved community of Bridesburg. Amen.
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