Monday, May 25, 2020

Fishing without bait: May 24, 2020


Year A, Easter 7                                                                     
1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11                                                                                   

"Fishing troubles"
            One of the things we tried with Joshua early on in the quarantine was fishing.   Neither my husband nor I fish so we had no intention of actually using bait and there was no way we were giving him something with a sharp hook at the end.   But still, I thought that casting might be fun for him.  And it was for awhile.  He liked to try to get it as far as possible.  When we were in the backyard, his goal was the roof of the garage.  He also seemed to find particular joy when he could get it tangled in a tree.  When we went to the beach, he had fun, but became frustrated that he did not catch anything.  While I do not fish, I knew that the reason he was not catching anything was that there was no hook and no bait.  But even if he had a hook, I was pretty sure he would not catch anything because he didn’t leave the line in the water for long. He would cast the line and then immediately bring it back in. While his technique was certainly flawed, I admired his positive attitude and hope.  He thought if he could just get it as far as possible, something good would return. 
            I found myself drawn to this reading from 1st Peter for a few reasons, but primarily because of this line, “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.”   This is a verse that would appeal to me at any time as I tend to be a worrier, but especially at this time in our country and world when anxiety seems to be ubiquitous---it’s even more appropriate.  The word “cast” caught my attention, perhaps because of my extensive fishing experience over the last 10 weeks.  It is not unusual to see fishing language in the Bible.  It was a metaphor often used by Jesus and presumably his disciples as well.  The Greek word translated to “cast” could also be translated to throw.  Throw your anxiety on God. Cast sounds more eloquent, but I think either works.  Because when we are desperately anxious, often we cast our anxieties like my son does his fishing line---we just try to get them as far away as possible. 
            Even when we are intending to do as the text tells us and cast our anxiety on God, it’s as though we kind of throw it at him and then expect something miraculous in return.  That is what fishing is.  You cast something out and expect something different when you bring the line back.  But real fishermen have patience and discipline. They don’t expect to get something immediately.
            Thus when the author of Peter instructs us to cast our anxieties, he also gives some advice.  First before you even cast, you humble yourself before God.  Then you discipline yourself.  Then you resist.  Peter is talking about resisting the devil, but I think we can apply this idea of resistance to all kinds of things. 
            Humility. Discipline. Resistance.  If we are talking fishing, this would mean the opposite of what my son does.  We don’t throw out a plastic fish and anticipate a giant catch.  We don’t pull in the line immediately.  And we definitely don’t throw down the pole in disgust when we don’t get the results we want.  Now we know what not to do. Let’s talk about what we should do.
            I think it is safe to say that people in our world are praying more than usual right now. It is tempting to fixate on quick results, if not a vaccine, then at least a lightening of the burden that each one of us is feeling.  We tend to pray in specifics.  We tell God what we want as opposed to humbling ourselves and asking for God’s direction.  So let’s try to start with humility.  Let’s try to admit that maybe, we don’t know what is best.  Maybe our best interests are not the same as the best interests of all the people of this world.  Humble ourselves.
            The next step is discipline. The way we have been asked to handle the pandemic is a perfect example.  When it started, most of us were doing pretty good at following directions.  But then 2 weeks turned into 10 and the discipline and fortitude we started with---the idea that we are all in this together, has started to slip through our fingers.  And I get it. I am right there with you.  It was one thing when this was during Lent.  We are supposed to suffer in Lent. But Easter…and now it’s Memorial Day and we can’t go to the beach?!?  Discipline is so hard when it last longer than two weeks. 
And Jesus and Peter…they were talking about a lifetime of discipline in our prayer and our actions.  For Peter, the stakes could not have been higher.  “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.”  You might think that Peter was talking about persecution. He was, but not in the way that Christians were persecuted later.  At the time Peter wrote, the Christians were such a small group they were not a threat to the Romans.  They were more of an inconvenience.  They were not being thrown to the lions literally.  It was more of peer pressure and judgment.   People were trying to convince these new Christians to go back to their pagan ways.  It would make everyone’s life easier.  The threat wasn’t physical, but Peter acted like it was. That is how important, how critical it was for them to continue to practice and live as Christians.          
“Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering.”  Resistance is part of discipline.  It is resisting what is easy and convenient. Resisting the people who would tempt us away from the Christian path.  Peter reminds these new Christians that they are not the only ones suffering.  Their brothers and sisters all over the world were also suffering.  It is something that we have been reminded many times over the last few months.  We are all suffering.  We are all in this together.  But that is not quite true.  Some are suffering more than others.  So instead of resistance for the sake of the whole….many are resisting for the sake of themselves and their freedom.  What Peter knew and what most of the early Christians knew was that true freedom was found in suffering and sacrifice, not for the sake of oneself, but the sake of the larger community.
So yes, let us cast our anxieties on God, but let us be careful as we throw our anxieties off, that they not increase the anxiety of another.  We can do that if we act with humility and discipline.  Once we have done that, once we have been as faithful as our strength allows, let us cast those anxieties with the same hope and faith my son has when he fishes---that regardless of our skill or the bait we use, God can take whatever we give him and transform it into something miraculous.

Monday, May 11, 2020

Trouble: May 10, 2020


Year A, Easter 5                                                                              
John 14:1-15                                                                            

            “Do not let your hearts me troubled.” I have preached this text more than any other text in the Bible, but only once on a Sunday.   Every other time it has been a funeral.  It is appropriate for a funeral.  Not only does it provide these comforting words by Jesus, but Jesus assures his disciples that he is going to prepare a place for them---which most people interpret as the afterlife, heaven.  When I read it this week, I had to laugh. Because the way I wanted to start this sermon was, “Be troubled, be very troubled.” 
We are in the midst of the greatest crisis of my generation, and probably several generations.  Just this week we learned that the unemployment rate is 14% and 78,000 people have died…in 3 months.  I will not bog you down with numbers and statistics—my job is not to depress you more.  It is to provide hope---to find the good news. That is what the Gospel is---the good news. Right now, I am having a hard time with that.
            Have you ever noticed that typically, when people tell you not to worry, it’s because there is something you should definitely be worrying about?  When Jesus told his disciples “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” there was something very troubling that was going on.  This gospel reading is part of the farewell discourse. In the Gospel of John, Jesus spends several chapters preparing his disciples for his death, more time than any other gospel does. It was a very long good bye.  This farewell discourse occurs at the end of the Last Supper. It comes after Jesus washes the feet of his disciples--- after Judas leaves to betray him --- after Jesus confronted Peter and told him that he would deny him.  It comes the day before Jesus was to die a horrific death.  Jesus had much to be troubled by.  This is not some platitude coming from someone who is safe and secure. This is coming from someone about to die a violent death.
            He could have easily said, “Be troubled.  Be very troubled.”  But he didn’t.  Granted, he is God, but he was also human. How was he able to provide such an assurance at a time like that? Jesus is not known for empty promises.  God always kept his promises. The next words out of his mouth were, “Believe in God, believe also in me.”  Another translation, is trust.  He is asking his disciples to trust him.  He is asking them to trust that whatever may happen, he will not abandon them.  Not only that, he is preparing a place for them.
            Then Thomas (good old Thomas) asks the question that was probably on everyone’s mind. “Lord we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way.”  Jesus responds with, “I am the way, and the truth and the life…”  It is a beautiful statement, but I don’t think it clarified things for disciples. They still had more questions.  Philip wanted Jesus to show them the father.  Jesus seemed a little baffled by this question.  After trying to explain himself he finally said, “Believe me…” Once again, it comes down to trust.  Every time they pushed him for more details, he told them to trust. 
            Right now, we are all about plans.  The federal government is planning. The state government is planning. The local government is planning.  And even the churches are planning.  Our bishop recently put together a task force together to create a plan with various scenarios.  At our last staff meeting, we talked about different plans.  We want to know the way out of this hellscape we are in.  I get it, I like plans.  I really like plans.  I am not one of those “go with the flow” kind of people. I want to know where the flow is going, how fast it is going and whether there any alternate flows.  But right now, I am having a really hard time with all these plans.  Maybe it’s because there is so much conflicting information. Maybe I just don’t like the plans.  I am not sure.
            However, I find comfort in this reminder from Jesus when he is asked about his plans. He doesn’t explain the plan.  He says, “I am the plan….”  Actually he said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”  That is better than a plan. That is what I am holding on to right now.  That is the good news we need.
At the very beginning of this sermon, I said I was having a hard time finding the good news.  That’s not quite true.  I know the good news, but sometimes, I have hard time holding on to it.  However, in this moment, I am confident, that (the way, the truth and the life) is what we should be clinging to. I am not telling you to ignore all the experts out there. I am definitely not saying that. What I am saying is that when you are in the depths of despair, plans and details are not the good news that will drag you out. 
            I talked to someone yesterday who told me he felt lost. I reminded him of Jesus’ words here, not because I was trying to save his soul, but to let him know his soul was already saved and the path was before him.  It was only in reminding him that I realized how lost I felt and how comforting and life giving these words truly are. “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” That statement wasn’t meant to be some litmus test for salvation.  It’s an affirmation for each one of us, that we are not meant to have all the answers.  We are not meant to know the exact plan and the path.  Like the disciples who were with Jesus, our job is to follow the light, the light that is Jesus. We are in a dark time when nothing looks the way it should.  Our land seems foreign and ever so lonely. Everything is changing so fast (yet somehow times goes so slowly).  But our God remains a constant.  The way. The truth. The life of Christ are our constant.  God is the only plan, the only way that really matters.