August 24, 2014: Exodus 1:8-2:10

What it Means to Have Power

Year A Pentecost 11  

 

            It would be easy to read this story from Exodus and say that it is a story about Moses.  After all, it is the first time we see Moses’ names and he’s clearly the star.  We know what happens after Moses grows up.  He ends up leading the Hebrew people out of Egypt.  But this story is not about Moses.  Then it must be about Pharaoh.  He’s an important guy, clearly very powerful. It’s not about Pharaoh either.  If it was about Pharaoh, we would probably have a name for him.  We don’t.  This story is not about the powerful.  It is about the powerless, at least the people who were perceived to be powerless.

            It is full of irony and intrigue.  It starts with a new Pharaoh who did not know Joseph, which means he did not know the story of Joseph.  He did not know how this Israelite had actually saved Egypt from a devastating famine, which brought more Israelites to Egypt.  This Pharaoh was probably only alive because of the actions of an Israelite who lived long ago.  He was at a disadvantage because of his self-inflicted ignorance.  He also seemed a bit paranoid, or possibly just horribly insecure.  He was worried that if the Israelites continued to increase in number, they would join the enemies of Egypt and overthrow them.  So he oppressed them, because as we know that is always an effective way to keep people in line.  He also hoped that by working them so much, they would not procreate as much…they would not have the time and energy.  Alas, this plan did not work.  The more they were oppressed, the more numerous they got. 

The Pharaoh called on two Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah.  Midwives were usually women who were barren.  Barren women were pretty much the lowest social status you could be in this time since a woman’s main reason for being was procreation.  The Pharaoh asked these women to kill all the male babies.  The girls did not concern him. The midwives feared God more than they feared Pharaoh. 

A lot of people are uncomfortable with the idea of fear of God.  The word translated to fear is a tricky one.  There is no direct translation, no English word that really works.  A translation that might be more understandable is honor. They honored God more than they honored Pharaoh.  They knew that the Pharaoh’s power was temporary and God’s was eternal. They did not tell him that they refused.  They just didn’t obey. When Pharaoh realized all these baby boys were still being born, he brought them back in and questioned them.  Their response is pretty hysterical.  They essentially said, “The Hebrew women are just popping them out so fast, the baby is delivered before we even get there.”  Apparently he bought that.

The Pharaoh then called on the Egyptian people to throw every male baby in the Nile so that they would drown.  One woman hid her child and put him in a basket in the Nile River.  When we hear basket, we think of a flimsy wicker thing.   This was no ordinary basket.   The Hebrew word translated to basket is the very same word that is translated to ark in the story of Noah and the Ark.  Clearly, the mother of Moses had put some time and effort into this little ark.  She wanted this child to be carried to safety, much like God wanted that ark to carry the people and animals to safety. 

As luck would have it, the daughter of the Pharaoh just happened to be bathing by the river and she saw this little ark passing by.  Of course, we know it had nothing to do with luck.  God wanted her to be there. She knew that this was a Hebrew child, a child that her father had ordered to death.  But compassion moved her when she saw him and heard his cries.  I am sure she knew about her father’s policy, but seeing the effects of this horrific policy must been more than she could bear. So she pulled him out of the river.  She knew that the ark while sturdy, could not last forever without her intervention.  So the daughter of the Pharaoh disobeyed her own father and saved the one man that would end up delivering an entire nation. 

It is fascinating to me that while the Pharaoh was so intent on killing all the males, it was the females, the ones who were already alive, who would be the means of his undoing.  He feared that the Israelites would become so numerous that they would create an army.  They didn’t need an army.  They needed a couple of women who were considered completely powerless who would risk their own safety to save a child and to honor God.   The Pharaoh’s daughter was probably not a worshipper of the one true God, but maybe she was.  Jewish rabbis have surmised that she was at the river to cleanse herself of idolatry because she had discovered the one true God.  There is absolutely no evidence to prove this, but it’s an interesting idea.  What we know is that she was moved by compassion, a compassion that moved her to sacrifice her own interests for that of another. That is love in its truest sense.  That is God.

There is another theory that the rabbis have for this story.  They wrote that it was not the maid of the Pharaoh’s daughter who pulled the baby out of the water. It was actually her own arm. However, her arm extended to double or triple its length as she went to reach for this child allowing her to pull him out of the river.  We hear the phrase divine intervention all the time.  But God has always been fond of using human intervention for his divine purposes.  Sure, he could have destroyed Pharaoh in some fantastic way and then carried the people of Israel in a cloud to the Promised Land.  That is not how God operates.  God likes humans to intervene.

God especially loves to use those people who would be considered powerless by most.  Those Hebrew midwives had nothing but their courage and their faith in God.  Moses’ mother had nothing but courage, love and faith. The daughter of the Pharaoh probably had more power than most women in that time, but it was still not very much.  The power that each woman had was her willingness to risk her life for another.  That is a power that God honors.  That is the power that Jesus wielded centuries later to save all humanity.

There are so many times in life when people do not act because they feel powerless.  They are powerless to change themselves or their lives or the world around them.  God proves again and again that power does not come with wealth, prestige or connections but in an openness to the will of God, to the possibility of something more. We think that we can only reach as far as our arm will extend.  Yet when we reach our arm out in love, God will always stretch us in ways that we never expected.  We will find that we are more powerful than we ever imagined.

August 17, 2014: Matthew 15:21-28

Take a Risk and Introduce Yourself Again

Year A, Pentecost 10                                            

            Recently I was at a meeting with various members of the church and we were talking about things that we could do to help people get to know one another.  One person commented that there were a lot of people whose family had been here for generations and some were born into this church.  That is a unique thing about St. John’s.  It speaks to a very passionate loyalty and love for the church.  That’s a good thing.  Everyone should be so fortunate as to have people in the church like that.  But it can also cause some roadblocks or maybe just speed bumps for new people to get involved in the church. One person said that he had been coming for over 25 years but it had taken him 15 years to feel like he was a part of the church.  Another person had a similar story. What was astounding to me was that both people waited it out and were committed to the church.  That tells me two things. One is that their faith is tenacious and they were here for God.  If it took 15 years, it took 15 years.  It also tells me that St. John’s is a special church.  They knew that or they would not have stayed.

            I recently heard someone say that, “[Faith] is not necessarily perfect belief or consent to a list of doctrines.  Sometimes faith is simply tenacity.”[1] I think faith is a combination of a number of things, but tenacity is a key ingredient and often one that we overlook.  It is not part of our creed or most of our prayers.  But tenacity is all over the place in other ways like today’s Gospel reading.   A women approached Jesus shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord Son of David…” He heard her but he did not answer her.  His disciples also heard her and urged him to send her away.  She must have noticed that he ignored her and his companions were telling him to send her away.  This did not discourage her. She came and knelt before him so he could not ignore her.  She said, “Lord help me.”  His response is one that bothers a lot of people. “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”  What has bothered people is that Jesus seems mean here. He is denying this woman and then referring to her as a dog. Yet despite this response she persisted.  She responded, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” 

            Here is where things get even blurrier.  It would appear that Jesus changed his mind.  Her response and her persistence had an effect on him.  Some say that he was merely testing her or he was testing his disciples.  People argue this because to say that Jesus changed his mind would be to say that he was wrong the first time.  That is not a fair conclusion.   It reminds me of that riddle.  Could God make a rock so heavy that even he could not lift it? My answer to that was always, Sure, but why would he? To say that Jesus can’t change his mind would be to say that Jesus did not have the power to change, which seems contrary to what we believe as Christians.  Jesus grew in mind and body when he was on earth.  He did not come out of the womb speaking in complete sentences with the body of a fully formed man.  There is no way Mary would have survived that.  So of course he changed. 

            Some say that Jesus embodied the old way of the Jewish faith as well as the new way which would become the Christian way.  He was both the God of the Old Testament and the God that brought salvation through his sacrifice and resurrection.   Stories about God in the Old Testament can occasionally depict a God who was more limited in who he accepted.  It the Book of Deuteronomy God supported the complete destruction of the Canaanite people because of the evil they had committed.   God had a clear preference for the people of Israel which seemed to end in the destruction of their enemies.  This is the background of the story for today.  The Canaanites were a hated people who were supposed to be annihilated by the people of Israel with God’s full support.  But here was a Canaanite woman seeking the blessing of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh and the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophesy. 

            She was smart and she took his argument and she spun it on its head.  She did not argue whether or not she was a dog, she just pointed out that everyone was deserving of blessing and even a scrap was enough.  There was plenty to go around.  I am not sure it matters whether or not Jesus changes his mind.  What matters are the minds of the people who were present and those of us who read this story now.  I believe that this smart and brave woman served as an instrument to model a new understanding of God and God’s love.  Remember what story we had only a couple of weeks ago?  It was the feeding of the 5000. Matthew made it a point to say that there was so much food that there were leftovers.  Jesus had already showed that God’s love was abundant and was meant to be shared with the masses.  This interaction with the Canaanite woman continued this lesson for not only the disciples but all of those who hear the story, all of us.

            In this story, Jesus displayed a certain tension in how we understand God.  He was still the God who had chosen the people of Israel, who loved those people and was loyal to those people.  He fulfilled the prophesies.  But he was also the God who would minister to the masses, the poor, the sick, the sinful.  There was no one who was not worthy of God’s love.   Jesus showed that he could do both.  The problem was that not everyone could accept that.  It was a huge change in the way they thought and acted.

Here at St. John’s, we carry a similar tension.  We have a 400 year old history, but we also want a future.  If we truly want to welcome people and be that church that shows the abundance of God’s love, then we have to live into that.  I have a feeling I know how someone could go 10 years without feeling welcome.  Let’s say this person shows up one Sunday. You introduce yourself and get his or her name and then you promptly forget it.  Next Sunday you are embarrassed because you forgot it and so you never ask again.  Ten years later and you still don’t know that person’s name.  We would not want to offend the person by asking their name.  As Episcopalians, the 11^th commandment is “Do not offend!” 

When we do not welcome people, it is usually not an intentional thing.  We are not purposefully shutting people out.  But that doesn’t make it ok.  We have to be intentional about how we welcome people into the church because not everyone is going to give it 10 or 15 years.  I have 2 challenges.  Find someone you do not know.  It might be because they are new or maybe they go to a different service, or maybe they sit in another part of the church.  Talk to them.  Here is the other side of the challenge.  If you are on the receiving end and you have met that person already, don’t tell them that!  Forgive them for forgetting and move on because I can guarantee there is someone you have forgotten.  Welcoming, real welcoming is risky.  Faith will always have risk.  That Canaanite woman took a major risk and kept at it even when she was rejected.  Take the risk.  If even one person feels a welcome they have never experienced, I think it is worth it.

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[1] I am not sure who said it because it was a podcast and there were 4 people talking.  The podcast can be found here: http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=530

 

Youtube link for today's sermon

When faith means falling

August 10, 2014: Matthew 14: 22-33

Year A, Pentecost 9                                                                           
                                                  

            One of my favorite movie scenes is from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  Indiana was a rather adventurous archaeologist who often found himself on epic adventures where he always seemed to be pursuing a treasure.  In this scene, he was running from some bad guys and trying to save his father. He came to this huge cavern.  He had to get to the other side, but there was no bridge, not even a rickety rope bridge.  It was too far to jump, but he knew that there had to be a way.  He realized with the help of a book that was providing him clues-- that it would literally require a leap of faith.  The bridge would only appear if he took the first step.  It was a bit of a catch 22.  He could only see it if he believed in it.  But he would have to believe in it without seeing it.

            I cannot tell you how often that scene pops into my head when I am thinking of the Christian journey.  We are rarely tested in such a vivid way, but believing in God is a huge leap of faith.  We are asked to believe in a God who we cannot see, cannot touch, and cannot hear.  He had a son who lived 2000 years ago and was killed only to come back from the dead.  We have stories that were recorded, but that is it.  How could any rational person be expected to believe such a thing?  We are supposed to live our whole lives based on this truth of which we have absolutely no proof. 

            Sometimes I think that had I lived when Jesus lived and been one of his disciples, I would not have doubted.  I mean who in their right mind could witness the feeding of the 5000 and not realize that this Jesus person was someone pretty special?  He cured people. He spoke with eloquence and power.  He calmed storms.  And this was all before he sacrificed himself and was then resurrected.  I occasionally find myself judging the disciples for their lack of belief. 

Just a few chapters before our Gospel reading for today, Jesus was in a boat with his disciples when they were hit by a violent storm. They were terrified of course.  Jesus slept right through it because he was apparently a very sound sleeper.  They woke him and he rose and calmed the storm.  After that, they were amazed and wondered what kind of man could command the wind and the seas.  In that story, it seemed pretty obvious.  They asked him to calm the storm and he did.  But today’s story is different.  I can empathize with the disciples fear and doubt.

            This happens right after the feeding of the 5000.  Jesus needed some alone time and told the disciples to get in the boat and go ahead of him to the other side. The Greek is pretty clear that Jesus actually forced them into the boat.  It was not a helpful suggestion; it was a command.  Suddenly there was a storm that battered the boat all night.  The text says that they did not see the person walking across the water until early morning, which means that Jesus waited until they had suffered through many hours of terror until he came to them. What was he thinking walking on water through a storm?  Would it not have made more sense had he first calmed the storm and then appeared to them?  Of course they did not recognize him.  It was raining and not even light out yet.

            One can hardly blame the disciples for having a hard time recognizing him.   He knew this and he tried to assuage their fears when he said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”  What is interesting is that while he tried to ease their fears with his words, he never actually calmed the storm…perhaps because that was not what they were afraid of.  Peter decided to test Jesus, which is never a good idea.  He said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Notice that Peter did not say, “If it is you, give me the power to walk on water.”  No, he said, “Command me to come to you on the water.”  Jesus provided that command with one word: “Come.” 

            Peter got out and started walking.  Now for Indiana Jones, it was that first step that proved the hardest.  But Peter did not seem to struggle with the first step.  It fact, he did a pretty god job until he noticed the strong wind that had not ceased since the storm began.  It was then, after he had taken those first few steps that he started to doubt.  Then he started to sink.

            I think that is a lot more true to life than the scene in Indiana Jones. It’s always hard to take the first step and Peter should be commended and admired for the courage that must have required.   Yet it often seems, in real life, it is after a couple steps when things get really difficult.  It’s when you  take that first step and you think, well, God should really reward me for this first step.  And you pat yourself on the back and look around to see who is admiring your courage, and that is when you realize that the wind has not died down.  The storm is still raging around you.  Wasn’t it supposed to be easier once you signed on to this faith thing…once you took the first step?  Why is the storm raging on?  Why has life not gotten smoother?

            It is tempting in those moments to turn around and head for the safety of the boat.  It will still be a little scary in the boat, but at least you have something solid beneath you and there are other people close by.  At least that boat is familiar territory. 

But to Peter’s credit, he never turned around.  When he started sinking he called out to God, “Lord, save me.”   When he cried out, Jesus immediately reached out and caught him.  He then said, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  That always seemed a little harsh to me.  However, whenever Jesus used that phrase, “you of little faith” he was talking to a believer who was struggling.  It wasn’t a reprimand as much as it was a “Come on, you knew I would come through.”  Peter did know this.  That was why he called out.

            I admire Peter for taking that first step.  It must have been terrifying.  There was a part of him that must have believed or he would have never stepped off the boat.  But what I admire more is what he did when he started to sink.  He didn’t turn around and head back for safety and certainty.  No, he called out to Jesus.  He asked to be saved….even though the winds were still strong and the storm was still raging.

There will be so many times where we will want to turn around because things have gotten too scary.  We took that initial risk.  We went to church.  We read the Bible.  We did all the things that the pastor recommended but life raged on.  It is those times where we have to call on God, not because we expect that the winds will cease as soon as he hears us, but because we know that he will catch us.  There might be a bit of a fall before he catches us, but Jesus will catch us.  Perhaps it’s not the leap that requires the faith as much as it is the fall that comes later.  

August 3, 2014: Genesis 32:22-31

  Year A, Pentecost 8                  

            My family gathers at a cabin on a lake in upstate New York in the summer.  If you walk into our basement, you will see a rather strange pictorial wall of fame…or really a wall of pain.  It’s all pictures of injuries that were acquired while at the camp.  I am not sure how this bizarre custom began. I think it  had something to do with one of my brothers who seems to always be around when someone is injured.  We started documenting all the injuries that happened in his presence.  Then it just took on a life of its own.   Of course a fascination with injuries is not really surprising when you have a family with three boys.  I remember them telling me early in life not to be friends with someone who did not have scars.  Apparently, scars were the sign of a life well lived and experienced, even at age 9.  It signified a tough individual who knew what it was to experience pain.  I guess my brothers did not want their little sister to be friends with anyone who could not hold their own in a street fight. 

            According to some (who have absolutely no way of proving this), this story from Genesis is one of the most frequently preached stories in all of Genesis.    That is just one book of the Bible, so perhaps that is not very impressive to you.  But Genesis is full of awesome stories.  You have the creation of the world, Adam and Eve, Noah and the Ark, the Tower of Babel, Abraham and Sarah, Joseph and the coat of many colors (they even made that into a musical)… So what is it about this text that attracts so many preachers and commentators?   I cannot speak for every preacher in the world, but there is something mysterious and wild in the text.  We all love a good mystery and this story has a couple mysterious elements.

            The first mystery is who Jacob is wrestling.  It’s so mysterious that most of us do not even realize that it is a mystery.  Most Bibles provide handy subtitles which make it very clear that this is an angel or God, or both.   What we sometimes forget is that subtitles were not in the original text.  Some translator just added them so we could find things more easily.  The text really just says it is a man.  Many infer that it was God or an angel because Jacob commented at the end, “For I have seen God face to face and yet my life is preserved.”  Because of that, it seems like a fairly safe assumption.  Why some struggle with the idea of Jacob wrestling God is that it sounds a little ridiculous.  Why would God wrestle someone?  And if God did, I don’t think the other person would last very long.  This is God…all powerful God.  What human could possibly contend with that? 

            That brings us to the next mystery: who won?  Some conclude that Jacob won because the mysterious wrestler asked Jacob to let him go and Jacob was in a position to demand a blessing.  If this is true, then it would be really hard to believe that the wrestler was God.  It’s one thing to think that God might wrestle a human, but to lose to a human…that’s just too much.  However, others contend that the stranger won because Jacob walked away with a limp.  Also, the wrestler named Jacob, and naming someone often implies having power over that person.

            Here’s my theory on both mysteries.  Jacob was wrestling God and there was no winner or loser.  That was not what this match was about.   This match was about a couple of things.  We learn something of the character of God.  Our God is a God willing to get down in the dirt with us, to struggle with us in very real and concrete ways.  God is even willing to let us be a part of that struggle.  Sure God could have pinned Jacob in less than a second, but that would not have taught Jacob very much about himself or his relationship with God.

            Let’s consider the context for a moment.  So far in the story of Jacob, he has been a bit of a twerp.  He cheated his brother and lied to his father.  Instead of facing either of them, he ran away.  When he ran, God provided for him and Jacob agreed to follow the one true God as long as God continued to provide for Jacob.  It was a provisional acceptance.  Jacob found two wives and did pretty well for himself.  He became quite prosperous.  He decided it was finally time to return home, but realized that he would encounter his brother, who was out for blood when he last saw him.  Right before our story for today, Jacob had sent people ahead of him to try to bribe his brother so that his brother might spare him.  It would be a stretch to say that things had been easy for Jacob, but he seemed to consistently come out ahead without ever having to sacrifice much.   His relationship with God was one of give and take.  God gave and he took. 

            The wrestling match changed that.  God was no longer at a distance.  God was there trying to wrestle him to the ground.   There was no easy way out.  Even so, Jacob remained true to his nature and demanded a blessing.  God would not give him the blessing until Jacob provided him with not only his name, but his truth.[1]  The name Jacob literally means heel.  When he came out of the womb, he was grasping the heel of his brother Esau.  When Jacob revealed his name to his opponent, he was telling more than his name, he was telling his past which was rather shameful.  God would not allow Jacob to be defined by his past.  This match meant that the sins of the past would no longer define Jacob because God would not just provide a blessing, he provided a new identity.  The name God gave Jacob was Israel, which means, “You have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.”  One commentator summarized that as “scrapper with God.” [2] That sounds a lot better than heel!

            The last sentence of our reading for today is: “The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel limping because of his hip.”  The limp was a result of God dislocating his hip during the all night wrestling match.  It was a small price to pay for a new identity and a more profound understanding of God, but it was a price.

 I think it’s easy to forget that being a Christian is not an easy path.  It is not the path of least resistance.  Life will be full of struggles and some of those struggles will leave scars or maybe a limp.  Those scars tell a story of times when we have taken risks, times we have gotten so close to God that we have ended up a little singed by God’s blinding light.  Yet it is not only we who bear the scars of life, Jesus did as well.  Even after Jesus was resurrected he carried the scars of his crucifixion because they told a truth that could not be denied and should never be hidden.  It’s why we have crosses all over our church- not so we can remember triumph, but so we can remember a God who was nailed to a cross just so we would wake up and realize that God will always be down in the grime with us and he’ll stay there until the struggle is over.

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[1] This understanding of name came from David Lose’s article found on: https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?m=4377&post=1597

 

[2] Interpretation: Genesis Bruggemann p. 427