It's not about being right: Sept 22

Year B, Pentecost 22                                      James 3:13-4:3; 7-8a                                                                                     

                I often hear people bemoan the current political discourse and long for those days of the past when people were more dignified and kind.  I would agree that what we have experienced lately has been toxic, immature, and at times cruel and irresponsible.  I was a political science major in college and have always followed campaigns closely, even as a teenager.   They seemed more civilized back then. I saw a clip recently of a candidate from several election cycles ago respond to someone who said they were scared of what would happen if the other person won.  This candidate defended his opponent and said he was a decent person and not someone to be feared.  Given that fear mongering has become an Olympic sport in our politics today, that response was astonishing to hear now.

Being in the church where our founding fathers worshipped, I hear people occasionally hypothesize what those same founding fathers would think of our current political climate. The assumption of course is that they would be horrified. As a result, I have read a bit about their rhetoric and it wasn’t always as kind and dignified as we might imagine. 

The first contested election was between Thomas Jefferson and John Adams.  At the time, candidates couldn’t campaign directly, but they had others who campaigned for them. Apparently Jefferson’s people accused Adams of wanting to be a king and create a dynasty so that his son could succeed him and then nicknamed Adams “his rotundity.”  Adam’s people said that Jefferson would promote incest, adultery and prostitution.  They also spread the rumors of Jefferson’s affair with a woman he enslaved.  There were many other insults that would not be appropriate for church.  I fear that even our founding fathers, who we treat with reverence (perhaps too much reverence) were not always careful with their words.

We have been reading the book of James for 4 weeks and this is our 2^nd week on chapter 3.  In the first half of the chapter, James spoke of the power of the tongue—how such a small part of the body can do so much damage.  The author compared the tongue to a fire, a fire that cannot be tamed.  He wrote, ^“but no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God…” It seems hopeless, does it not? If it is impossible to tame (as it would seem in these verses), then what are we to do about it?  Perhaps we can’t even blame those people who speak carelessly or even purposefully hurt others with their words.  They just can’t control their tongue.

Our reading for this Sunday picks up where we left off, but there is a shift.  James is no longer talking about the uncontrollable tongue, but instead, the focus is on wisdom.  You see wisdom is what controls the tongue. It is what is inside you that affects what comes out of our mouth. He then differentiates the wisdom from above versus earthly wisdom.  Earthly wisdom is associated with envy and self ambition. God’s wisdom, the wisdom from above is pure, peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy…without a trace of partiality and hypocrisy.  Can you imagine how different our world would be if our decisions, our actions and yes, our words—were infused with that kind of wisdom?

I was struck by the words peaceable, gentle, willing to yield.  So often, when we are convinced that we are right (which we so often are) we feel that we have to be forceful with the truth, perhaps even get a little louder—because we have truth on our side.  Why would we yield if we knew that we were right?

          When James differentiates between the wisdom from above and earthly wisdom, it’s natural to assume he’s talking about facts---what is right and what is wrong.  If we are guided by God’s wisdom, then we would know that we are right, that we have the truth on our side. We could be confident in those words and choices—like so many are.

I am not sure it’s about what is right and what is wrong, what is true and what is false.  When James speaks of wisdom, it’s about mercy, gentleness, peace, and righteousness.  It’s more about the way we interact with people that actually displays wisdom and understanding rather than what arguments we win. If we are willing to yield and meet someone half way, we might not always get our way, but we might accomplish something that would otherwise be impossible when we are so entrenched in our conviction of what is right.  When we can listen to the wisdom of others, when we are not so fixated on what is right, then it’s amazing what we can actually learn from one another, the wisdom we can gain.    

          James says that if we are seeking the wisdom from above and living into that wisdom, then “a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.”  I talked about righteousness a few weeks ago and how we really don’t like that word very much because we associate it with self-righteousness.  At the time, I defined righteousness as being in right relationship with God and our neighbor.  I still stand by that.  However, when I was reading about this section of James, one commentator defined righteousness as: “living as though God were the determiner of who was worth loving and who wasn’t.”[1]   In other words, God is the one who gets to decide who is worth loving. 

That might sound way too obvious, but look at our Gospel reading. The disciples, the ones closest to Jesus, were arguing about who was the greatest.  We spend so much time in our nation, and in our church to a lesser degree, arguing about who is worthy.  Yet what God said over and over again, throughout the entire Bible, is that everyone is worthy of God’s love, and therefore our love.  We are not the arbiters of who deserves love and compassion. When we can admit that, then a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace, for those who make peace. You see peace doesn’t just come to us.  We have to create it.

It’s ok to have strong opinions and be passionate.  Strong opinions and passion can be incredibly motivating, especially when it leads us to positive action on behalf of another.  However, we could accomplish so much if we tried to emulate those characteristics of God’s wisdom—peaceful, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy.  That is what curates wisdom, not the act of being right.

We can critique our politicians (and many times we should) but given that they are never on the receiving end of my sermons, I wonder if we could start closer to home. We can start our pursuit of wisdom in our interactions at work, at school, in our families, with our friends, with others in church.  Those are places that also need peace, gentleness, mercy and some flexibility. And because many of us are tired, weary, and have a little decision fatigue—let’s remember what righteousness is. It’s living as though God were the determiner of who was worth loving—not us.  We do not get to make that decision. God already has.  God’s infinite wisdom has decided that we all are worthy of love and compassion. When we can see that and feel that—then we won’t need to worry as much about the words that are coming out of the mouths of others or ourselves.  All are worthy.

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[1] https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/worship-planning/doers-of-the-word/seventeenth-sunday-after-pentecost-year-b-lectionary-planning-notes/seventeenth-sunday-after-pentecost-year-b-preaching-notes

The Church belongs to no nation: Sept 15

 Year B, Pentecost 17                                                Mark 8:27-38                                                                                                      

Who do people say that I am?  Compared to most questions that Jesus asks his disciples (or anyone for that matter), that was a fairly easy one.  The disciples were quick to chime in on who other people said he was. They had probably been dying to tell him what people were saying, “Some people think you are John the Baptist—back from the dead! Others think you are Elijah who never actually died, so that seems like a better possibility.  Or you know, you could be any prophet, maybe a brand new prophet.”  

Of course Jesus knew all the rumors—so then came the real question, “Who do you say that I am?”  This time only one person chimed in—Peter. Remember, this was kind of Peter’s thing.  He was eager and earnest, the first one to raise his hand, but not always the first person to think through his answer.  He answered, “You are the Messiah.”  Now, we are used to that title for Jesus.  It just kind of rolls off the tongue for us, but this was a bit of a wild card response at this point in the Gospel of Mark.  While Jesus has healed people, fed thousands and put some religious leaders in their place, calling him the Messiah was a leap.

            The Jewish concept of the Messiah was multifaceted and complex, as we can see from our reading in Isaiah.  But for the sake of a 12 minute sermon, I will provide a broad generalization. The Messiah was expected (by most) to be a strong political leader who would oversee a significant change in the world order.  At the time, many Jews thought that the Messiah would help them overthrow Rome who was occupying Israel at the time.  However, what we see time and  time again from Jesus, was a resistance toward any kind of political leadership.  In the Gospel of John, the author explicitly says that they tried to take him by force to make him king and he slipped away. He didn’t want to be a political leader. He wanted to save people, but not that way.  He would not do anything by force. Thus Peter declaring him to be the Messiah probably surprised the other disciples.

            Peter, even with his tendency to stick his foot in his mouth and speak before thinking—saw something in Jesus that many others didn’t.  He saw this man was more than just a miracle worker or a prophet.  He was someone who would change the world.  We see a slightly different version of this story in the Gospel of Matthew.  In that version, Jesus praised Peter for this revelation and told him that he would be the rock on which he built his church, which makes this next interaction with Peter that much more bizarre. 

            As soon as Peter confirmed Jesus as the Messiah, Jesus started talking about how the Son of Man would have to suffer, be rejected, be killed and then on the 3^rd day rise again.  At this point, Peter took him to the side and rebuked him.  Rebuke is a strong word, especially in Mark. Typically, it is demons who are rebuked.  So right after Peter is commended for recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, he is rebuking that Messiah because he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.  In turn, Jesus tells him, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

            Since we rarely talk about Satan in the Episcopal Church, I want to stop here for a moment.  When we hear the term Satan, it’s easy to get distracted by that visual of the man in the red suit with horns and a tail.  Instead, let’s focus on what Satan does in the Gospels.  Satan tempts.  Satan is an adversary.  Here Jesus is not telling Peter that he is the prince of darkness and the epitome of all that is evil.  He’s telling him that he’s tempting him and contradicting him. 

While Peter seemed to get the right answer about who Jesus was when he declared him to be the Messiah, he didn’t quite understand the distinction between the kind of Messiah Jesus was and the Messiah most people expected and wanted.  He wanted the powerful Messiah who would crush the enemy and lead his people to victory.  He didn’t want the suffering messiah, the one who is killed by the very people he is supposed to defeat. 

While Jesus understood that this was his path and had accepted it, I doubt that was what he wanted.  We know this because later in the Gospel, Jesus begged God to “take this cup away” from him.  He didn’t want to be crucified. Jesus was not one to take the easy way, but I imagine he would have been open to an easier way if that had been God’s will.  That’s why he was so angry at Peter, because Peter was trying to tell him, there was another way, a way where he could be the powerful messiah who did not have to suffer.

            That is what most leaders want.  They want power, but without the suffering or sacrificing. One of the buzz words (or phrases) that we have been hearing a lot about recently is Christian Nationalism.  Frankly, I am not sure that a lot of people know what they mean when they say it and I fear it’s been weaponized in ways that are not helpful.  I personally can’t separate my faith from who I am when I am talking about politics or voting.  I think there should be a place for our faith in our nation. What concerns me is when people act like Christianity should have a place of privilege in our nation. It did for a very long time…but here’s why I have a problem with those who want to bring that privilege place back.  Our Christian faith is not supposed to be about power and privilege. Our Messiah was killed on a cross by the people in power. 

            Jesus said, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.  For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?” Does that sound like Jesus was trying to create a faith for powerful and important people? Christianity was built on death, loss and sacrificial love.  When Jesus was killed by the Romans, they thought he was a failure.  Even after he rose again, he didn’t hold a massive rally where he announced his victory and celebrated.  He appeared to a small group of disciples and empowered them to spread the Gospel message. 

            Does that mean we should pretend that our faith isn’t important?  Does that mean we should compartmentalize our faith or make it so tepid that it can’t possibly have a place in this nation and world? Of course not.  Our faith. Our God---is everything.  But the power of our faith is not in prestige or dominance.  It’s in the lives that it can change, the love that can be shared, the transformation it can bring.  That question that Jesus asked his disciples is the same question we must ask ourselves today.  Who is Jesus to you? We get so bent out of shape on how others are misrepresenting Jesus, we forget to consider who he is to us and what we are doing to help others know this Jesus, the Messiah, the Savior who we believe in.

            I hear outside tour guides sometimes describe Christ Church as “the nation’s church” and I don’t really feel comfortable with that.  This is God’s Church.  We are in God’s church.  It belongs to no nation. We belong to God.

Why did Jesus say that?: Sept 8, 2024

 Year B, Pentecost 16                                       Mark 7:24-37                                                

As most of you know, the readings we have on Sundays rotate on a three year cycle. Every three years at about this time, we get this Gospel reading. There is another version of this story in The Gospel of Matthew, which means this story of the mother seeking healing for her daughter has popped up 12 times during  my ordained ministry.  There have been one or two times when I have preached a different text because I was weary of tackling this story, and then someone always asks me why I didn’t preach about Jesus calling a desperate mother a dog. I have realized if this text is read, it has to be preached upon because it is such an abrasive text. 

            I would like to tell you that in my many years of preaching this, I have been able to hone my message and come up with the perfect take on this complicated text. But I think it’s actually gotten harder.  Over the years I have read commentaries that provide an explanation that made just enough sense.  One was that Jesus was testing this woman. He wanted to see her fiery response and she passed that test with flying colors.  The other popular take is that this is a beautiful example of Jesus learning from a human. It displays his humility and vulnerability. I still like that explanation…but none of the explanations I have read adequately explain why Jesus insulted someone by using a slur.

We learn early on that Jesus was in Tyre, which was Gentile territory.  Jesus was a Jew and just the fact that he was there was unusual.  Yet we have come to expect that from Jesus— have we not?  We stress (especially in the Episcopal Church) that Jesus was someone who broke down the barriers that divided people.  He loved everyone and showed no partiality. 

If that is true, then why would he say, “Let the children be fed first, for it’s not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” The children represented the Jewish people. Up until now, Jesus had spent most of his time with other Jews.  He was a devout Jew, as were his chosen disciples.  The Gentiles were the dogs. That’s what many Jews called them. Jesus was simply repeating what he heard so many other say.

He wasn’t saying that the Gentiles were completely undeserving.  He was saying that the Jews were the priority.  That’s not so bad, right? Well I guess it’s not so bad if you are a Gentile who is healthy and not asking for healing for your possessed daughter.  But this woman was desperate.  She had already broken some serious rules when she went into a stranger’s house and addressed a man who she didn’t know.  Forget the Gentile/Jew divide for a minute.  Women were not meant to speak to men who were not related to them, especially if they were alone.  She was taking a huge risk in approaching Jesus when he was alone in a house. So yes, being told in that moment that her sick daughter was not a priority because she was not the right ethnicity was more than just an insult or a slap in the face.  It was cruel. 

I don’t know the mind of Jesus and I am not going to try to explain that insult away.  Instead, let’s try to put it to the side for a moment and focus on what comes next.  This woman, who was already in an incredibly perilous position, argued with a rabbi and a miracle worker.  She used an interesting technique.  She didn’t tell him that it wasn’t fair and that he was biased. She didn’t try to prove that she or her daughter were worthy of his power.  She didn’t beg him for compassion or mercy, which is the route I would have taken. 

No, she pointed out that his power was so abundant, that even a small morsel would be enough for her and her daughter. She reminded him that that there was more than enough of his love and mercy to share.  Remember what happened in the previous chapter—Jesus fed a crowd of 5000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish and there were leftovers…12 baskets of leftovers.  When it comes to Jesus’ love—there is always more than enough. What is amazing is that this woman knew that.  She knew that better than most of us.

Jesus was planning to share his message and love with the Gentiles. That is why he was in Gentile territory.  In going to Tyre, he was off the beaten path. There was no good reason to be there, unless he was planning to expand his mission.  Only a few verses earlier he had told the Pharisees that there was no food that was clean or unclean, which was a huge point of contention between the Jews and Gentiles.  He had already begun laying the ground work.  What she did was accelerated his ministry to the Gentiles. He told her “not yet” and she responded, “we need you now.”  Some things can’t wait.[1]

The Gospel of Matthew tells a similar story, except in Matthew the woman is commended for her faith and then told her that her daughter was healed.  In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus says, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.”  In Mark, she is commended for her grit and her determination, but also her insight into who he was.  She saw what even his disciples could not always see, that his power and his love were limitless.  It did not have to be focused on a certain group, it could be shared with the world. 

I believe that is an important message for us today as well. We live with such a scarcity mindset, not just when we talk about money and resources, but when we talk about who God’s message can reach.  I do it as well. I think, well that person or group would not possibly be responsive to the Gospel message. I tell myself, “It’s not that I don’t want to share with those people, it’s that they would not be responsive. It would be a waste.”

When we put a limit on who we think our faith can reach, we impose that restraint on God. We limit the reach of God, when that reach should be and can be limitless.  It’s time that we stop restraining the reach of God.  It’s time for us to stop worrying about how others will judge us and instead focus on how we can share the abundance of what God has given us. Because there is always enough. God doesn’t limit us. We limit God.  It’s time to stop with the limits and open ourselves and others to the relentless and boundless love and mercy of God.   

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[1] A lot of these ideas came from Dr. Matt Skinner from a working preacher podcast.  You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiQqStpruhw

The Pharisee in us: Sept 1 2024

 Year B, Pentecost 15                                               Mark 7: 1-8, 14-15, 21-23                                                                                                              

            Over the last month and a half, we have been reading from the Gospel of John. The Gospel of Mark is a welcome reprieve from the theology of John. However, it’s a little unsettling to be suddenly dropped in the middle of an argument between Jesus and the Pharisees.  Let me provide a recap of the chapter that preceded our Gospel reading for today. It’s been a busy time for Jesus and his disciples. He fed the 5000, he walked on water and healed a bunch of people.  That was just the 2^nd half of chapter 6.  As a result, Jesus was a rising star, which meant that his actions and the actions of his disciples were more closely scrutinized then they had previously been.

          Who better to scrutinize actions and make judgments than the Pharisees and Scribes?  These men were the experts in the laws and the rules around the laws. They had dedicated their lives to the study of these laws. It was their job to explain the laws to people and make sure that people were following them. Often times, they get a bad rap and I am not sure it is always merited. 

A lot of people like to paint Jesus as this anti-establishment rebel who was trying to change the Jewish faith and dismantle the institution.  But this was not what he was doing.  He was trying to get them to go back to the basics, consider what the important things were  The laws of the Jewish people were the 10 Commandments and the first 5 books of the Hebrew scriptures (what we call the Old Testament).  However, over the years leaders of the faith built up rituals and traditions to protect these laws.

Many people compare these rituals and traditions to a fence.  They built a fence around the laws so they could protect the people from breaking the laws.  This fence became so high and so dense, that people sometimes forgot there was something behind it.  This is what Jesus was talking about when he said, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold on to human tradition.”

The rule that the disciples were breaking in this story was not a law.  It was a ritual that had been created by religious leaders over hundreds of years.  It was not for cleanliness, it was ceremonial.  It came out of the act of thanksgiving, like how we say grace before a meal.   It started for good reasons. They wanted to recognize that every meal was an opportunity to give thanks and an opportunity for religious fellowship.  Then some people got so obsessed with the ritual, they put more emphasis on that than the thanksgiving and fellowship.  Jesus was showing them that they could still give thanks and have fellowship without all these add ons.

Thankfully getting lost in the details never happens in Christians Churches.  We never create traditions and rituals and forget the reason behind the tradition.  We never get upset when something changes.  No one has ever said, “We’ve never done it that way before.” Of course we do.  We also have our own oral laws (or what Mark refers to as the tradition of the elders).  Some of our traditions have been honed over 100s of years.  But some have only been around for 5 or 10 years. It is amazing how quickly traditions can take root in the church.

Unfortunately when we acknowledge that we sometimes cling to our traditions, I have to admit that the clergy are often the Pharisees.  As a clergy person, I am the one who makes sure that the things we do in the service are liturgically proper.  This was part of my seminary training.  Let me show you an example some of these Episcopal oral laws that have been written down. 

*These are essentially text books.  They tell you how to stand, when to kneel, when to cross yourself. They don’t all agree.

*These  books are full of Episcopal vocabulary.  That’s right.  Many of these are words that we made up.  We had to memorize them and I have forgotten at least 50%. 

*This is a commentary on the Book of Common Prayer.  It tells you what all the things in italics really mean. 

Now some of these things are helpful, some of them even necessary.  But a lot is just unnecessary detail. Many clergy will disagree with me on that…and they are the one who own more of these books. Yet it’s not just the clergy who guard tradition---we all do. Some of these traditions that we guard are shared by many churches and some are specific to individual churches.  Christ Church is less pre-occupied with liturgical traditions because that isn’t really where the emphasis is.  But we have a default traditions that are based on what we don’t do.  Or we have traditions based on the building itself…because it’s historic.  The walls have to be a certain color.  If you came in and were disturbed by all the random stuff we have in here for the On Buried Ground performance, it’s because you are used to the ways things usually look. It’s unnerving to me as well and I’ve only been here 11 month.

The traditions that we have, come from a rich history and the great majority of them have a holy and profound purpose.  The problem comes when our commitment to these traditions gets in the way of how we love our neighbor or when we spend more time arguing about the rules than we spend actually doing the work God has called us to do.  That is when these rules and traditions are dangerous. 

The Pharisees were upset because the disciples were eating with defiled hands.  This is not because their hands were literally dirty. Their hands were defiled because they had not been ritually cleansed.  Some pharisees couldn’t recognize the good work that Jesus and his disciples were doing because they were concerned with how it all looked, how it reflected on them.  They were so focused on the change itself, they never noticed the positive outcome of that change. They could not see the people who were drawn to Jesus because he didn’t worry about laws that determine ritual cleanliness.

          There is a point in our spiritual journey, when we should look for the Pharisee within us.   You might think “I don’t have any Pharisee in me. I am not worried church traditions.” But consider what is underneath the need to protect traditions. It sometimes comes from a desire to defend what is sacred.  Sometimes, it just comes from not wanting to change.  Any of you have issues with change? I am not just talking about church—but any change.  I struggle with change, and I have had a lot over the last year. The hard part of change is that is usually involves some kind of loss.  It might lead to something good, but it can be hard to get past the loss.

          Just like the Pharisees built a fence around the law, we have built fences around our hearts.  Jesus was not only concerned about the heart of the law, he was and is concerned about the heart of each one of us.  Jesus said, “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” 

When we become too comfortable in our life and our faith, when the status quo becomes our creed, then we will become stagnant. It means that we have become too attached to what once was rather than what could be.  Sometimes it feels like we have protect the church and in doing so, we are protecting God.  But God doesn’t need our protection.   In fact, God needs us to be a little more fearless, a little more open to the unknown.  Let us walk boldly forward.  May our traditions be something that grounds us, but doesn’t bind us.