Running on Empty

Scriptures:     Isaiah 1:12-13, 16-18, Romans 6:1-11,  I Peter 3:13-22,                   Mark 10:13-16

Those of a certain age probably remember the Jackson Browne song:

Running on empty / running blind / running into the sun/but I’m running behind…..

At the moment described in our gospel reading, I think Jesus and his disciples could have related.  Jesus’ disciples had just returned from their first mission trip.  After getting an underwhelming reception at his hometown synagogue, Jesus had sent his disciples out, two-by-two, to preach and cast out demons.  Now the disciples were returning, eager to tell Jesus about where they’d been and what they’d done.  Meanwhile, while the disciples had been away, Jesus had just gotten the devastating news of Herod’s execution of John the Baptist.  Jesus needed some quality time with his disciples, and they all needed some time away from the crowds, with their endless demands – “Teach us, heal us” – over and over.

So Jesus tells them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourself and rest a while.” Mark’s gospel adds that “there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.”  Sounds like a good plan.  They pile into a boat and set out for a deserted place that Jesus knew.  Problem is, the crowds saw where they were going, and got there before they did.  Jesus and his disciples pile into a boat to get away from the crowds; they get to land and the crowds say, “Here we are!”  It’s a scene that at one level is sort of comical – Jesus and his disciples literally can not get away from the crowds – and on another level touching…..the faith they had in Jesus….and on yet another level exhausting….no rest for the weary.  There’s a scene in the movie Jesus Christ Superstar, in which Jesus is slowly engulfed by a group of lepers and others seeking healing, as they sing “See my eyes I can hardly see See me stand I can hardly walk I believe you can make me whole  See my tongue I can hardly talk   See my skin I’m a mass of blood  See my legs I can hardly stand  I believe you can make me whole  See my purse I’m a poor poor man……” and at the end of it Jesus shrieks “Leave me alone!”- I think on the cast album he shrieks “Heal yourselves”.  That may very well have been what Jesus was thinking, but that’s not what Jesus did – in Mark’s gospel, we’re told that “He had compassion for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he began to teach them many things.”

Meanwhile, where does this leave the disciples?  They were really looking forward to spend some alone time with Jesus, and Jesus had offered them some time just with him.  But here they were again….the crowds, the crowds, the crowds, with their endless demands, “See my eyes I can hardly see See me stand I can hardly walk I believe you can make me whole  See my tongue I can hardly talk”  

I think we’ve all been there, in one way or another.  We’re exhausted, on low reserves, running on empty, looking forward to at least a nap, if not a vacation…..and something comes up….a family member gets sick, the dog eats something he wasn’t supposed to and needs to get rushed to the vet, a pipe breaks and we need to call the plumber right away, we get a phone call asking us to come in to work to cover someone’s shift…. so that we have to stretch ourselves still more.  What to do?

Remember Jesus’ words to his disciples:  “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest.”  We’re not machines, and even if we were, even machines need periodic maintenance.  Even your car needs to stop running and go into the shop to get an oil change every 3000 or 5000 or however many miles.  Why should we expect ourselves not to need some downtime as well.  Periodically, thoughout the gospels, we’re told that Jesus went off to a quiet place to pray.  And if Jesus needed quiet time to pray, so do we.  It doesn’t matter much what that time looks like – maybe in the morning before we start our day or some time praying and reading on the train going into work, even if we have to mentally block out the stop announcements and such.  Observant Muslims pray five times a day – before dawn, noon, afternoon, sunset, and evening.  Whatever they’re doing, when the call to prayer sounds, they stop what they’re doing and pray.  If Muslims can pray five times a day, I think we can challenge ourselves to find some quiet time at least once a day to pray, even if only for a few moments.  To use the words from an old commercial, consider it “the pause that refreshes.”  And we may be surprised how refreshing it can be.

But there are times when the demands are there and we can’t escape them…or shouldn’t escape them, even if we can.  At those moments, we can silently pray for strength – other than “thank you”, I’d say asking God “give me strength” is one of my most frequent prayers – and plunge in.  There’s always time for a snap prayer, to shoot a couple of words of prayer to God, even if it’s just “help!”.  What we may find is not only that God gives us the strength for that situation, but that God stretches us and enlarges us, so that we can handle something similar the next time, but much easier.   By God’s grace, I’ve found myself able to do things I’d have never thought possible, because I was faced with what seemed like an impossible situation, asked for God’s help, and plunged in as best I could.

And, I have to say, there are times when we get demands, and we may need to catch our breath and do some quick discernment.  Is this a real need?  If I respond, am I empowering that person, or just enabling them?......sort of like the difference between showing a child how to solve a math problem vs doing their homework for them.  And if it is a real need, am I the right person to respond, or should I be referring the person to someone else.  For example, while my seminary training included a course in pastoral counseling – and I hope to take more courses if time and finances permit – I’m not a psychologist, nor do I play one on TV.   It would be irresponsible for me to try to do long-term counseling with someone who really needs a trained therapist.  So the most loving thing I can do is to do what I can in the immediate situation, and find the best possible referral for the long-term. 

And then there are situations where it’s hard to tell what’s the right thing to do.  This past week, somebody who’s not a member of the church, but who is on the fringes of my list of contacts for folks needing assistance from time to time, asked me three times in two days to drive them to Friends Hospital.  Three times I drove them, three times Friends said they couldn’t admit him, but could he wait around…..and three times he walked away on his own, and made his way down to Kensington.  After the third walk-away, I said I wasn’t going to be available to talk to him for the next few days – if he needed help, please try to find someone else to help.  Did I do the right thing?  I don’t know.  Some would say I shouldn’t have come back a second time.  Others would say I should have made myself available regardless.  Others would say I should know the system better, so that I could get him in some other place.  In any case, I tried, and I failed.  For me, all I can do is pray for God to make up for my failures and limitations. 

Yesterday, nine of us went to Bethany Children’s Home, and I think we got to see what it looks like when our efforts at helping are based on a foundation of prayer.  We visited the Brobst cottage, a residential cottage under the leadership of a couple of houseparents. Most of the children who come to Bethany come out of difficult family circumstances and need a lot of support- and sometimes support can come down to really basic stuff, like how to bathe, how to turn off a light switch, really basic stuff.  As one with no children, it’s hard for me to imagine living with other peoples children with that level of need day in and day out.  But the houseparent who showed us around the place was on fire for Christ; he himself had made some really bad mistakes in his life, and his experience being invited to a church – an African-American church, as it happens – turned his life around.  And now he’s spending his life passing on to others what Christ had given him.

“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves to rest awhile.”  Jesus’ invitation to those first disciples is for us, his followers, as well.  May we remember to leave room in our lives for time with Christ, so that Christ can give us room and resources to serve those he sends our way. Amen.

Dancing and Dying

Scriptures:  2 Samuel 6:1-19,  Amos 7:7-15, Ephesians 1:3-14        Mark 6:14-29

A few weeks ago, Michael W. and I went with the group Philadelphians Organized to Witness, Empower, and Rebuild (http://www.powerphiladelphia.org/) on a bus trip to Harrisburg to advocate for increased funding for Philadelphia schools.  Those who went were given yellow t-shirts for the occasion.  I was focused on the event – on the bus ride to Harrisburg, on the rally at a nearby Methodist church beforehand, on the rally and interfaith service on the steps of the state capitol.  It was only near the end of the day that somebody pointed out that – oops – I’d been wearing that yellow t-shirt backwards the whole day.  Yeah, that’s how I roll sometimes.  I’d put it on early in the morning before I was fully awake, didn’t pay attention to where the label was, and just went about the day’s events oblivious to my minor fashion faux pas, until someone pointed it out – after, of course, I’d going about all day with the shirt on backwards.

What a strange collections of Scripture readings this morning – King David dancing before the Lord, the prophet Amos being given the boot from Bethel, Israel’s primary worship center, and John the Baptist being executed by Herod – along with a reading from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that doesn’t seem to connect to any of the other readings.  But I think all of these readings have something in common – they give us portraits of servants of God who are so caught up in what God has called them to do, that they lose all concern for themselves – their respectability, their safety, even their lives.

I want to fill in a little background on that Old Testament reading.  Some of us, of a certain age, may remember the ABBA song “Dancing Queen” “you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life…..”, but our reading from 2 Samuel gives us a portrait of David as a Dancing King.  We normally think of royalty as being stuffy, stuck on their own dignity….think of Queen Elizabeth; about the only movement we associate with her is her little queen wave.  But King David was cutting loose; indeed, making a spectacle of himself, as his wife Michal – Saul’s daughter  - told him.   

It wasn’t something David had planned – he just got caught up in the moment.  The story follows on the very sad reading from 2 Samuel from a few weeks ago, in which Saul and Jonathan were killed in battle with the Philistines, and the Philistines had captured the ark of the Lord.  In today’s reading, the ark has been recaptured, and is being brought to Jerusalem, the city that David has designated as capitol of Judah.  He actually tried to bring up the ark to Jerusalem once before, but the ark was being jostled as it was carried, and a man named Uzzah tried to steady the ark, and for his concern was struck dead – and the whole procession came to a halt.  Three months later, David tried again, and this time was successful – and for David and those with him, the reality of having the ark – representing God’s presence – in their midst, right with them where they were, filled them with such overwhelming joy that King David just cut loose, not caring what people thought.

How do we experience God’s presence?  What does it feel like?  Christians around the world, in our various denominations, respond to God’s presence in so many ways.  In many churches, certainly German-based churches in which I and many of us grew up, God’s presence inspires awed but attentive silence.  We respond in the service at the appropriate places, sing enthusiastically, but in many places are silent, lest we miss a word from the Lord.  In other churches, God’s presence is experienced very differently – with swaying back and forth, with shouting, with the sermon consisting of an ongoing call and response between preacher and congregation, as the preacher says something and the congregation says “Amen! That’s right! Preach it!”  Or if the preacher is struggling, folks in the congregation might shout “Help him, Lord!”  I’ve visited churches where folks speak in tongues and dance in the aisles, and in one service I even saw people pass out and fall backwards during the service, as people came up behind them with a sheet to catch them.  And what a feelings of trust folks in that congregation must have to know that if they pass out, there will be someone there to catch them.  I say all this just as a way to give us, German as we are, a little more space to respond in worship as the spirit leads us.

That said, I have to say, just from me, I’m not a person that gets caught up in emotion very much….my feelings are pretty flat most of the time.  And that’s ok – while I sometimes wish I could be like the folks who shout and dance and fall out in worship, that’s just not how I’m put together – and we’re saved by faith, and not by feelings. 

But even if, like me, we’re not very emotionally expressive, we can get caught up in God’s purpose for us just the same.  We aren’t told whether the prophet Amos or whether John the Baptist ever danced before the Lord. We are told, though, that they got so caught up in their call from God that they proclaimed the message God had given them, even when it cost them unpopularity and brought on threats, as happened to Amos, and even when it costs them their lives, as happened to John the Baptist.   I’m pretty sure Amos wasn’t trying to get chased away from the king’s sanctuary in  Bethel.  Nor do I think John the Baptist had any intention of winding up with his head on a platter.  You see, what Amos and John the Baptist did wasn’t about Amos and John the Baptist.  It was about being faithful to God, totally devoted to God, and letting the chips fall where they may.  They didn’t go about their ministries second guessing themselves, “oh, if I say that, I might offend someone”.  They just proclaimed what  God had put on their hearts – just let it all hang out for everyone to see.

I’m reminded of a quote attributed to the radical anarchist Emma Goldman, who said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be a part of your revolution.”  Or, to quote an early Christian theologian, Irenaeus, “The glory of God is man fully alive.”  Our word “enthusiasm” comes from words meaning en – in – and theos – God.  So may God grant us that holy enthusiasm that comes from living according to God’s call for us. May God’s spirit make us fully alive, as a foretaste to that day of which St. Paul spoke, when we, along with all things in heaven and in earth, will be gathered up in Christ.  Amen.

Unimpressed (Sermon July 5, 2015)

(The photos are of the synagogue at Capernaum.)

Scriptures:  2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10    Ezekiel 2:1-10, 2 Corinthians 12:2-10,   Mark 6:1-13

Jesus had just concluded a whirlwind tour of teaching, preaching, and healing.  He had not only toured through many of the villages near where he had grown up, he had crossed the Sea of Galilee – which is really a lake - to minister to Gentiles living in ten villages on the other side of the Sea.  In particular, while among the Gentiles, he had cast a legion of demons out of a man who was possessed.  When he crossed again to his side of the Sea of Galilee, he raised the daughter of Jairus, who was thought to have died, and healed a woman who has suffered internal bleeding for twelve years.  Having done all this, Jesus now came home to Nazareth.  Undoubtedly it would be a time for Jesus to rest and recharge.  But one might also expect Jesus’ homecoming to be a moment of triumph.  Having done so much for so many in his travels, we might expect the folks in his hometown to be falling at the feet of the “hometown boy made good.”

That’s what we might expect, but that’s not what happened.  Mark’s gospel tells us that Jesus began to teach in his hometown synagogue…the synagogue in which he had grown up…and the people could not get their minds around what they were seeing and hearing.  After all, they’d known Jesus since he was a toddler, had watched him take over Joseph’s carpentry shop.  Many of them may have brought Jesus their tables and chairs to be repaired.  They’d surely heard the stories from the surrounding countryside about Jesus’ miracles…and yet, when they saw him in front of the synagogue, he looked like the same old Jesus that they’d known for years, his hands calloused, full of splinters, probably knobby from his having banged his fingers with the hammer from time to time.  No halo, no choir of angels, just the same Jesus they’d known all these years. At first, Mark’s gospel tells us, they are astounded: “Where did he get all this? Where did this wisdom come from? What are these miracles we’re hearing about?”  But, we’re told, before long, astonishment turns into contempt….Mark tells us, “They took offense at him.”  And Jesus said, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.”  And, Mark tells us, Jesus could do no deed of power there, except he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them.  And Jesus was amazed at their unbelief.

What went wrong?  Why couldn’t they welcome Jesus’ message as so many of the surrounding villages had?  To put it bluntly, why were they so thick-headed?  I’m sure that part of the reason is, as I’d said earlier, that their long familiarity with Jesus got in the way.  For the others who heard Jesus, they saw him as he was at that moment, without any prior baggage.  For those in his hometown, they saw Jesus as he had been – a hometown boy from an iffy family situation, raised by a man who had not fathered him and yet had provided for him, along with his brothers and sisters – a hometown boy who up until recently was carrying on his stepfather’s carpentry business.  They were quite happy to bring their chairs to Jesus to be mended.  To bring their souls to be mended – thanks, Jesus, but no thanks.

It’s also likely that Jesus’ sermon pushed their buttons.  Mark doesn’t give us the content of Jesus’ sermon in his hometown synagogue, but Luke does – the story is in Luke chapter 4 – and Luke tells us that Jesus preached about God’s love, not for Israel, but for those outside Israel, such as the widow at Zarephath who hosted the prophet Elijah, and Naaman, the Syrian, whom the prophet Elisha cured of leprosy.  Jesus called the folks in his hometown synagogue to a larger understanding of God, to an understanding of God that did not begin and end with them, but embraced Jews and Gentiles alike.  And they weren’t having any of it. While Mark tells us that his hometown folk took offense at Jesus, Luke tells us they became so enraged that they tried to throw him off a cliff.

Jesus is certainly not the first prophet that folks tried to throw off a cliff.  Centuries earlier, in preparing the prophet Ezekiel for his mission, God reminds Ezekiel that he is being sent not to strange people in a far-away land, but to his very own people.   But God also tells Ezekiel, over and over again, that the people to whom Ezekiel will be speaking, Ezekiel’s own people, are “rebellious.”  Over and over again, God calls Israel “a rebellious house”…so much so that I suspect Ezekiel might have been ready to tell God, “Ok, they’re rebellious, I get the point.”

We might still wonder why the folks at Jesus’ hometown synagogue got so riled up.  After all, what’s offensive about a God that loves us and other people too?  Here’s a thought experiment:  of course, yesterday was Independence Day, July 4.  Lots of flags, a big parade in downtown Philly, and I’m sure Kate Smith’s version of God Bless America got lots of play across the country.  All to the good.  But what if we are reminded, on the day after July 4, that God loves and wants to bless, not just America, but also Canada, and Mexico, and the countries of Central America and South America, and Africa, and Europe, and Asia, and Antarctica….that God wants to bless the countries of the Middle East, including the ones our government doesn’t like so much, such as Iran and Iraq and Afghanistan….   If we’re feeling a little uncomfortable right about now, maybe we’re getting a small inkling of why the folks in Jesus’ hometown “took offense at him”, as Mark’s gospel tells us, or wanted to toss him off a cliff, as Luke’s gospel tells us.  You see, they thought that, as part of the Chosen People, they owned God, perhaps even thought they had a copyright on God, that they held the patent on God.  But Jesus reminded them that, throughout history, God had chosen others in addition to themselves.

The folks at Jesus hometown synagogue were unimpressed with Jesus because of their familiarity with who Jesus had been didn’t allow them to see who he was now, and possibly because his message pushed their buttons.  Could part of their  reaction to Jesus have had to do, not with their opinion of Jesus, but their opinion of themselves?  On one hand, they may not have wanted to hear about God’s love for Gentiles, but on the other hand, perhaps they thought that, if God was at work, it would surely be in Jerusalem, among the chief priests and scribes, and not in an out-of-the-way place like Nazareth. Or if God was at work in Nazareth, it would be with the head of the local synagogue, maybe, but not with the town carpenter, somebody seemingly just like themselves.  Perhaps they felt unworthy to have God in Jesus at work in their midst.  But throughout the Bible, it’s exactly in marginal places and among marginal people that God is most active.  So in our context, it may not be in a prominent place such as the Cathedral on the Parkway that God is active, but perhaps in a small, out of the way little church in a small, out of the way neighborhood like our own.

So Jesus’ visit home was a debacle….and in Mark’s gospel, we don’t hear about Jesus visiting his hometown again.  We’re told that, in response, Jesus went out among the surrounding villages.  And he sent his disciples out, two by two, to proclaim that all should repent, and to cast out demons.  He ordered them to travel light – no money, no food for the journey, no bag, not even a change of clothes, just a staff, a pair of sandals, and one set of clothes.  In the same way, Jesus sends us out to preach good news, to bring healing, to name those places where ungodly forces are at work, and cast them out.  Lest we feel unequipped, Jesus’ instructions to his disciples assure us that what God has already given us is sufficient for the task. 

Like the disciples, may we go forth from this place to proclaim God’s good news.  Like the disciples, may we trust that God will provide for our needs.  And may we have eyes to see those places in which God is at work in our midst – even if it’s in familiar places, among familiar people, here in Bridesburg, where God has planted us.  Amen.