Stay at the Table: January 31, 2021

 Year B, Epiphany 4                                             1 Corinthians 8                                                  

          Often times we read scripture and it’s easy to see how it relates to our life.  But today’s readings seem completely irrelevant to us.  In the Gospel reading, Jesus exorcized a demon from a man…not something we encounter much today.  In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, Paul addressed the big argument over meat sacrificed to idols.  Now, I have had a few people tell me they thought they were possessed.  It’s rare, but it happens.  But I have never once had someone express concern over meat being sacrificed to idols.   

          Yet, like so much of the Bible, there is more to these stories than meets the eye.  In fact, I would venture to say that this part of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is probably one of the most relevant things that Paul tells us for our lives today. 

          To understand why that is true, it is helpful to know a little about Corinth and the Corinthian people.  At the time when Paul was writing his letter, Corinth was a diverse and cultured urban center.  Most of the people were not Jewish.  Thus when they became followers of Christ, they were converting to a very different way of life.  For the Jewish converts, it was an easier transition.

Corinth was an epicenter of pagan worship.  You go to Hampton to sail and eat crabs.  You went to Corinth to be in a community of people who worshipped multiple gods and did it in a fairly big way.  While the Christian community was growing, it was still a small community and one that was fairly new.  These people were just learning about Jesus.  It was unlikely that there was a central place for Christian discourse.  The various small groups of Christians most likely lived in different parts of the city and then came together once a week for common worship.  The new Christians (and they probably did not even call themselves Christian at this point) were very different from one another. Some were wealthy and well educated.  Some were not. 

          The issue that Paul was addressing was meat that was offered to idols as a sacrifice.  You might wonder how big of an issue this could possibly be.  If you don’t want to eat meat sacrificed to idols, don’t go to the temple.  However, it was not always clear where meat came from.   After an animal was sacrificed, some of it would be burned, but the left overs were often sold in the market.  And unlike our grocery store, there were no packages or signs telling you where the meat was coming from.  It didn’t say: “grass fed”, “organic”, “local” or “sacrificed to idols.” 

Some people thought it would be safer to avoid all meat together.  That way they could be sure that they were not inadvertently part of any idol worship, which kind of makes sense.  But there were other people who ate whatever meat they wanted to.  They would even attend pagan ceremonies and eat the meat they knew had been sacrificed. They figured that since these gods weren’t real anyways, what difference did it make if they ate meat offered to these fake gods—these false idols? This created tension between those who were eating the meat and those who were not.

          The issue itself is not relevant to us.  The way Paul addressed the issue and encouraged the Corinthians to handle it is absolutely relevant.  First of all, Paul never pretended to be unbiased or neutral. He agreed with the argument that since there was only one God, then it was pointless to worry about what food is or is not sacrificed to those fake gods.  He even complimented the people who had used that argument- for their knowledge and religious understanding.  But he then added that there are some people who simply aren’t there yet. They might not have the same education. They might have a different background where they were more attached to pagan rituals-- making it more difficult to completely ignore where the meat came from. For those new Christians, it would have been deeply distressing to see other Christians doing something that seemed un-Christian to them.  He concluded by asking, is it really worth it to eat meat if you are going to destroy your sister or brother in Christ?

          What is interesting is that he didn’t dismiss those who felt they could not eat meat. It’s true he labeled them as “weak,” but I don’t think he meant it as an insult.  Because in the end, he chose to associate himself with the weak by promising not to eat meat.  While he didn’t agree with them, he felt that it was more important to love them and support them, rather than prove he was right.  He did this because he thought it would help them become better Christians instead of encouraging them to return to their idol worshipping ways. 

          It’s easy to read this and conclude that Paul was simply trying to keep this fledgling community together by convincing people not to offend one another.  But that’s not the case.  If he simply didn’t want to offend, he would have encouraged them to stop talking about it, or to stop eating together.  That would have solved it, right?  Just stop eating meals together and you don’t have to worry about what everyone is eating.  But Paul knew that sharing a meal was critical in a Christian community. It’s what Jesus did with his disciples.  And it’s one of the last things he asked of his disciples.  And let’s not forget, Paul never worried about offending people. He said some terribly offensive things.  Paul’s letters were consistently encouraging the church to be a place to talk about hard things. 

          That is something I fear we have lost.  We have a really hard time talking about hard things.  We do it when we have to.  But we also avoid it as much as we can.  And if the church isn’t a place to have difficult conversations, where are we having them? Social media?? The News?  We all watch different news channels.  There are rarely differing opinions unless it’s the token conservative or token liberal. There is no real conversation happening in the places where we often turn for news and information.  Instead community is torn apart by bickering and misunderstanding one another. 

          If the church doesn’t talk about hard things like racism, homophobia, sexism, government, mask wearing…then who is?  We are leaving these important conversations to social influencers on Instagram who are far more interested in selling us something than creating or maintaining a community.

          Paul wasn’t worried about offending people because he knew the Christian community was strong enough to have arguments and disagreements.  What he was afraid of was alienating people which might lead them back to idol worship.  In the church, when we alienate people, they don’t usually turn to idol worship, not literally at least.  However it’s still something we try to avoid. 

          How do we have these hard conversations without alienating people? I struggle with this, especially lately.  But I have seen it happen.  I saw it with our Sacred Ground series where Democrats and Republicans talked about politics.  Some people’s feelings got hurt and that was regretful, but to their credit, no one walked away from the conversation.  Right now we have a commission of people talking about the confederate memorial. There is a wide array of opinions, yet they listen and speak respectfully and they are going to find a compromise. I have no doubt about that. 

          This can work—but you have to stay at the table, even when you are hurt and irritated, even when you think, “How could a Christian possibly say that?” Because I can guarantee you, whatever side you are on…there is some merit on the other side as well.  We are called to love our enemies.  That’s hard.  Let’s start by loving our friends or acquaintances who disagree with us. Jesus doesn’t care who is right.  He only cares about how we love those we think are wrong. One way we do this is to stay at the table.

Photo by Elliott Stallion

 

Thoughts from the first week of 2021

 I have decided to try to write a blog post on the weeks I am not preaching about what ever I am batting around in my head.  Here is the first installment of something I have not yet named.

Photo by Hogarth de la Plante 

            Lately, I have been thinking a lot about wounds, specifically the wounds of Mary and Jesus.  In the 2^nd chapter of Luke, a prophet told Mary that a sword would pierce her soul.  We know that she was wounded emotionally just as Jesus was wounded physically.  Our nation has been wounded over and over since its very inception.  Yet the wounds of the past 12 months are fresh and deep.  And those wounds were apparent again on Wednesday as we witnessed the events unfold at the capitol.  It was particularly troubling because this violence occurred at the very seat of our democracy.  Many might contend that it was no worse than what has happened in the past.  I can’t be the judge of that.  But I can say that for me, it was bit of a breaking point.  It was the point when the division in our country felt less like a line in the sand and more like a chasm that we were all yelling across.  It feels like a wound that keeps reopening. 

I could pontificate about the causes of that wound, but I will leave that debate to superior minds and hearts.  What I would like to address is the healing.  I believe that healing is possible.  It won’t happen easily. We can’t just pretend this division doesn’t exist.  We also can’t ignore the causes, which are manifold.  Yet we can still resolve to overcome the differences. As Christians, we are called to rise above divisions---not to ignore them, but to rise above.  One of the most unique and powerful aspects of the Christian faith is we are a group that requires no common ground, except the ground at the foot of the cross.  We require no citizenship, but the citizenship of God’s kingdom.  We don’t have to agree to disagree because we don’t have to agree on anything except for the saving grace of Jesus Christ.         

While it might seem insurmountable, we can start small.  We can start in our homes and with our families.  We can start in our church which, like most, has a vast array of political opinions.  We can start in our city of Hampton whose diversity is both a strength and a challenge.  We can start with the relationships we have because those relationships are precious.  It’s so much easier during a pandemic, when we are cloistered in our homes, to focus on our differences.  But let us work to remember what binds us is not who we are, but who we belong to.  We are God’s children and God wants more from us than what we have seen over the last year.  Please pray with me. Pray frequently and fervently.  Pray in your words or the words of others.  I have found many of the prayers in our Book of Common Prayer particularly comforting.  I will leave you with this: O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us, in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

What Mary Kept: January 3, 2021

 Year B, Christmas 2                                                              Luke 2:41-52                                                                           

            While we were in the adoption process, I had a vision of how it would look when we finally brought our baby home---pure bliss.  All those years of waiting would culminate in this experience of joy.  There was tremendous joy, but there was something else—grief.  Because I knew that while I was bringing home a new baby, another mother was leaving the hospital with empty arms and conflicted emotions.  This knowledge didn’t temper the joy, it complicated it.  I was carrying this host of emotions and frankly, I wasn’t too happy about it.  I wanted something pure and free from pain.  I wanted what I perceived other new mothers had.

            I believe that experience gave me a new appreciation for Mary.  Throughout the first two chapters of the Gospel of Luke, we have witnessed her experience many new things and an array of emotions. When she learned that she was miraculously pregnant with the savior of humanity---she was frightened and bewildered, but also inspired. Then after she had the baby and the shepherds shared the news that they had learned from the angels, that this child she held was the Messiah—she was peaceful, but probably a little concerned. The text tells us, “But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” It’s not clear what she was feeling, but it sounds like it was messy.  She knew that being the mother of this child wasn’t going to be an ordinary experience.  She just didn’t know how extraordinary it would be.

            After all these angelic visits and one miraculous birth, the story we hear today seems almost mundane. I mean it would be terrifying for any parent, but the experience itself is ordinary in the sense that it was human.  Their child was missing. They were scared and beside themselves with worry.  It would seem, they might have even forgotten who exactly they were dealing with.  He was the Son of God, destined for greatness…he probably wasn’t going to just get lost. But he was also their son and they were not thinking rationally or even spiritually.  They were just feeling visceral fear.

They did what anyone would do, they retraced their steps, talked to people who might have seen them, probably had an argument that sounded like this, “You were supposed to be the one watching him!”  Finally, they went to the place where we always end up in the Gospel of Luke---the temple.  Remember, we were just in the temple…it was about 12 years before, but only a few verses back when Jesus was presented as an infant.   

            The temple is a theme in the Gospel of Luke.  The story begins in the temple when Zechariah hears the voice of God telling him that his elderly wife will conceive a child.  The Gospel ends in the temple as well.  After Jesus is resurrected and ascends to heaven, the apostles who witnessed his ascension returned to Jerusalem.  The very last line is, “And they were continuously in the temple praising God.”  Traditional Jewish customs were important to Jesus, his family and his disciples.  The first thing Jesus did after he was tempted by Satan was to go to the Temple to pray.  It’s a funny thing when you think about it.  I mean, if anyone shouldn’t need a place to worship, it’s Jesus (God incarnate).  Why does he have to go to a holy building to talk to himself?  Yet again and again we see him return to the temple, to a place that felt like home for him.

            Thus when his parents finally found him and expressed anxiety and frustration that he would leave them, he was perplexed.  This was the temple, the holy place where he felt close to God.  This is where they should have come first.  So he asked them, “Why were you searching for me?  Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”  We don’t hear their response.  It just says that they didn’t understand him.  Now while his question seems almost disrespectful, we are told that he left with them and was obedient.

Then the Gospel writer adds, “His mother treasured all these things in her heart.” It’s the same words we hear right after Jesus’ birth when the shepherds visited her and told her about their angelic visitors and the message they sent.  Some translators say that a better interpretation would be, “She kept these things in her mind and heart.”  When we read the phrase “treasure in her heart” we sentimentalize the experience, as if she is creating a scrapbook of happy memories.  But I wonder if what was really happening was she was coming to terms with all of these conflicting emotions.  Fear and amazement.  Anxiety and relief.  Love and grief.  These events and words, were all wrestling around in her mind and heart. 

Just a few verses before the ones we heard today, Mary and Joseph presented Jesus in the temple when he was just a few days old.  The prophet Simeon saw Jesus and proclaimed, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed  so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”  It could never be simple for Mary.  It could not be a simple congratulations on your new baby.  Given everything she was being told from angels, to shepherds, to strange prophets, and eventually her own son---her soul, her heart, and her mind must have been in constant turmoil. 

Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe 

Yet we sing of Mary, meek and mild.  We paint her with a peaceful and placid expression. Then we use her as an example of a faithful servant, a model for all of us. I would agree that she is a model for all of us, but more so because her joy was not the bliss that self-help gurus try to sell us.  It was contemplative and mysterious.  Her life and faith was full, but she was also wounded, wounded by the knowledge that her son’s life would be difficult.   There would be pain and tragedy, but there would also be resurrection.

As we begin a new year, I know that I would like to just forget everything that has happened in 2020 and start over.  We can’t.  Over 350,000 people have died in the United States alone from COVID.  And of course, other things have been going on as well.  I could list them, but then it just sounds like I am listing the plagues.  We all know what happened in 2020.  Things will get better, but it’s not going to happen as quickly or easily as any of us want.  We have all been wounded, but so were Jesus and Mary.  Jesus was wounded physically and Mary was wounded emotionally and spiritually.

But she never lost hope. She probably asked God a lot of questions.  She probably wept and maybe even got angry at times.  But she kept all these things in her heart.  She didn’t throw it out because it made her sad or scared.  She held all those words and experiences close to her heart.  2020 and at least part of 2021 won’t be the year that most of us carry in our hearts with fond memories.  We won’t treasure most of these times.  But let’s keep them in our hearts.  Let’s learn from it, grow from it and tend to the wounds that need healing.  Then, when we come out the other side, let us experience the complicated joy that is life as a disciple of a crucified and resurrected God.  God willing…let us do it together, in this holy space where we meet God and one another.