Jesus is even in the conflicts: Sept 10, 2023

Year A, Pentecost 15                                         Matthew 18:15-20

                The first time I looked at the Gospel reading for Sunday, I thought…great…it’s my last Sunday and the Gospel reading is about church discipline. Maybe the epistle reading is better. I mean it starts well, “love one another.”  Then it devolves into exhortations on what to avoid: adultery, murder, drunkenness, debauchery and licentiousness.  Fantastic.  The Old Testament reading wasn’t much better. Of course, they all have some redeeming qualities, but I was hoping for something a little easier for my last Sunday.  But…as I have mentioned several times in sermons, Christianity isn’t supposed to be easy. 

                To really get a good understanding of this reading from Matthew, you need to read the whole chapter, because as is so often case, context is everything.  When we read just these 5 verses, we see the accusatory part.  It doesn’t sound much like Jesus.  Aren’t we supposed to forgive 7 times 70 times. Yet here it seems he’s telling the community that they can cast out members who refuse to cooperate.  And the language…Jesus says you should treat them as you do a Gentile or tax collector.  That’s not good.  The people he was talking to didn’t like Gentiles or tax collectors. They wouldn’t eat with them, and they definitely wouldn’t worship with them.  Yet we see Jesus eat with those outcasts.  We see him defend them and even name one (Matthew) a disciple.  Why would Jesus change course and tell people there is a limit to forgiveness and that Gentiles and tax collectors should be maligned?

                Again, it all comes back to context.  The chapter begins with Jesus telling people that they must welcome little children.  Now, in our day and age, this would seem like a no brainer.  Of course Jesus would love the little children.  We have a song about it.  Back then, children weren’t valued as they are today.  Most people treated them as they would treat an outcast.  Then right before our reading for today, Jesus tells the story of the shepherd who has 100 sheep and loses one.  What does the shepherd do?  He goes after the straggler…the one who wandered away. Jesus has and will always care for those who are typically left behind.  He also cares for the sinners, which is all of us.  Jesus would not have wanted someone cast out of the church.  Jesus would want people to stay in relationship…not just with their God, but with one another. 

                The last line is a very well known line.  We used it a lot during COVID, when we recorded the service with only a few people in this sanctuary.  “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am among them.”  We quote that line when we need a reminder that God is in the midst of us…always.  But it’s interesting—that this line would come right after talking about people in a church not listening to one another.  Jesus wanted to remind us, sure he’s here for a lovely service like this one.  But he’s also here when we are arguing with one another, when we are in conflict, when we are in transition.  Those are the times when we need him the most, but also the times when we tend to ignore him the most.

                And I don’t like to brag….but I already knew that.  Because we have had a few conflicts in my time here.  There have been a few arguments.  That’s normal.  One of the many things I have admired about this church is that people almost always stay polite.  Now some might say, well that’s just keeping up appearances.  I don’t think so. A little kindness goes along way.   Maintaining the lines of communication is what allows us to stay in relationship.  I haven’t always been able to do it, but most of the time, I have--- because people have been willing and that means everything.

                That is what Jesus is talking about here.  It’s about people remaining in relationship even when they disagree.  It’s not just the pastor remaining in relationship with everyone, it’s about you all remaining in relationship with one another.  And that is going to be even more important in this transition period.  There are going to be some things you don’t agree on.  That’s ok.  Whatever you do-- don’t avoid one another.  Have the hard conversations because I can tell you from experience that you all are more than capable of that.  I know that southern hospitality makes that tricky sometimes, but you can do it. You have to do it.  Not because I am telling you, but because that is what Jesus is saying in this text.  Jesus is the messiah who cares for the outcasts and the marginalized.  Jesus is the shepherd who goes after that one sheep who wanders away.  And do you know why he can leave the 99…because there are 99 of them, and they can take care of one another.  If you notice someone is missing, don’t wait for the pastor to do something about it.  Absolutely, tell the pastor. But then call them.  I asked Patrick to print some extra directories.  They are in the parish hall.  Call that person. 

                Yesterday we had a funeral for Kevin Eley, who died too soon.  His obituary said that he had no regrets or deeds left undone.  What an amazing thing.  Most of us do not live a life without regrets.  Thankfully we are Christian, which means we always have opportunities for redemption.  This Gospel reading isn’t about discipline. It’s about how we seek redemption, with one another and with God. It’s about how we find a way to love one another, even when we don’t vote for the same people or have the same opinions about a confederate monument.

                While it’s true that we have been through our share of conflict, much of the time has been joyful.  Do you remember that first Easter when we could worship in person? Or the first fellowship event we could have? Or the many baptisms and weddings. I have seen you all show up for one another (and for me) again and again.  I know some of you are anxious about what is to come.   That’s normal.  Change is always scary. This church has been through 3 wars…wars that directly affected this building, hurricanes, flooding, a lightning strike and 47 rectors.  Some of you are new to the church and some of you sit in a pew where your great grandparents worshipped.  Some of you are Republicans and some are Democrats.  Some of you have lived here all your life and some have just moved here. You are a magnificent quilt made of many different patterns.  The back of the quilt shows something that looks discordant and a little messy.  The front is a wonder to see. This building is historic and precious, but the people in this building are so much more.  You are children of God, beloved by your creator and me your 47^th rector.

Picture of my last Sunday by Bob Harper

For the Good of the Whole: Sept 13, 2020

Year A, Pentecost 15                                                            Romans 14:1-12                                                                                    

           If you had asked me one year ago, if I would ever use this tacky gadget to distribute communion, I would have told you, “Absolutely not.”  If you would have told me a year ago that we would go 7 months without receiving communion, I would have declared you to be slightly insane and definitely not Episcopalian.  If I knew there would be no congregational singing, I would have started predicting the apocalypse.  Every business, family, group, school, has seen such changes in the last 7 months—changes they never imagined they would have had to make.  When you compare the changes the church has made to the rest of the world, they don’t seem very radical.  But all of us here know that the church has never had an easy time with change. While all of this change has been unsettling to say the least, the experience has also helped us determine what is truly important in the church, in our faith and in our lives.

            The church has not always succeeded in seeing the bigger picture.  Like humans everywhere, we get bogged down by the details. Since Jesus’ ascension into heaven, the church has been led by humans…well meaning humans, but imperfect.  We are also different from one another. God created us to be so.  It makes life beautiful and interesting; it also makes it a challenge to live in community. It comforts me to know that even Paul and the earliest Christians struggled with coming to terms with their differences and how to manage in a new community, based not on ethnicity or social class, but belief in Jesus Christ.

            Much like the Christian Church today, the church in Rome was a mishmash of people.  There were the Jewish converts who were holding onto to the traditions of the Jewish faith. There were the pagan converts who were trying hard to let go of their old ways.  There were people like Paul, who had grown up Jewish, but were ready to follow the new covenant that Jesus had established. These people were not as worried about following all the rules they once followed.  They had found a new way to be, a new way to worship.  All of these people from different backgrounds and faiths were trying to live and worship in one community that had little structure and no tradition to fall back on in times of uncertainty. 

            In his letter to the Romans, Paul speaks of the weak and the strong.  As a vegetarian, I have to admit, I don’t appreciate Paul’s comment on the weak eating only vegetables.  However, he wasn’t talking about vegetarianism. The reason these people were eating only vegetables was because they were worried about how the animals were slaughtered.  The people who were pagan converts did not feel comfortable eating an animal that might have been sacrificed in a pagan ceremony.  On the other side, the Jewish converts were concerned about keeping the dietary laws of the Torah.  Just because they believed in Jesus now did not mean they were willing to throw out all the laws that were given by God to the Hebrew people.

 Both of these groups had religious reason for avoiding meat. The reason these vegetable eaters were being labeled “weak” was because they were unwilling to move away from these old rules.  They were worried about the letter of the law, but not the purpose.  It is easier to obsess about superficial things, like what we eat and drink, then who we love, and how we show that love.  What was interesting is that while Paul associated with the strong, he told those who were strong to make compromises (like avoiding meat) so that the faith of the weak would not be shaken.  For him, it was worth making small sacrifices for the sake of the other.

            For a very long time in the church, we have been arguing about things that some might consider are on the periphery of our faith.  Easy examples would be things like the color carpet we are  using or whether we demand that ushers wear a coat and tie, or whether we kneel or stand at certain times of the service, or even if we have communion wine in the midst of a pandemic. I think we can agree that those things are not critical to the faith.  But the problem is that we cannot always agree on what is and is not critical to the faith.  Something I might consider periphery, you might consider incredibly important.  If you read Paul’s letters, you will see the areas that he considers critical to the faith.  There are also some things (like what we eat and drink) that Paul determines are not critical to the faith.  One thing that is consistent for Paul is the importance of caring for the community and for our neighbors.  Paul’s concern is not for the self, but for the other. 

            Over the course of this pandemic, many of us have realized how important community is.  We have realized it because we have missed it and yearned for it.  We have also yearned for the sacraments in the context of the community. The one thing we have never lost during this pandemic is Holy Scripture.  This experience has given me a greater appreciation for scripture, but it has also reminded me of how hard it is to apply scripture to our daily life.  How do we use it to consider present day issues? In many ways, that was what Paul was struggling with, how to apply the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament) to disagreements in the new Christian community. 

            A year or so ago we used a book in Christian formation called “Making sense of the Bible.” The author used a really helpful analogy in how we determine what is and what isn’t critical to our faith. He said that the Great Commandment (which is “You shall love the Lord you God with all your heart, soul and mind and love your neighbor as yourself.”) is like a colander. You put all the other verses of the Bible through that colander.  If the verses aren’t consistent with Jesus’ Great Commandment, then they drain through.  What remains is what is critical to our faith.[1] For example, verses about slaves being obedient to their master would filter through.  Verses about parents beating their children would filter through. Verses about women covering their heads in worship would filter through.  It doesn’t mean we erase these verses from the Bible.  It just means we don’t use them to defend our actions, because they are not consistent with the Great Commandment.

            This analogy made a lot of sense to me and it is also consistent with what Paul said in his letter to the Romans. I am sure we could still find things we disagree about in terms of what does and doesn’t filter through the colander, but it provides a helpful baseline, unless we are talking about carpets, in which case we can just be grateful we don’t have a carpet in the church.  One thing I think we can all agree on is what Paul says about the danger of judging one another: “Who are you to pass judgment on servants of another? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall.  And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand.” We will disagree at times.  Sometimes we will have to make compromises that seem anathema to us.  The way we stay together through whatever may come is to try desperately not to judge one another.  Remember that in the end, we all fall short of the glory of God, it is only God’s grace that allows us to stand. 

 

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[1] Hamilton, Adam. Making Sense of the Bible. Page 176.

Forgiveness Can't be Counted: September 17, 2017

Year A, Pentecost 15                                                  
Matthew 18:21-35                                                     

 

            As you may know, there are many different English translations of the Bible.  For instance, there are some that use more modern language to make the Bible more accessible.  The differences between these different translations can be very subtle. Then there are weird differences.  For instance, in today’s reading, Peter asks Jesus how often he should forgive someone.  He suggests seven, which he probably perceives as a fairly generous allotment.  I certainly would. Jesus’s answer is: “Not 7 times, but, I tell you, 77 times.”  However, there are other translations where Jesus answers, “Not 7 times, but, I tell you, 70 times 7.”  That is 490 times for those of you who are not math people.  That is significantly larger than 77 times.  People have gone back and forth between those two numbers for centuries. Most people don’t worry too much about the specific number, because whether it is 77 or 490…it’s a big number.  Once you have forgiven someone 77 times, what’s another 413 times? 

Yet I find it interesting that different translations are determined to have the correct number, whether it be 490 or 77. Some people even feel the need to argue about it. In our culture, numbers, scores, scales, percentages---all of those things are important.  We put a lot of value in numbers, whether it is a test score, the Dow Jones, salaries, the price of gas, the temperature, the number of people who are at church on any given Sunday, our weight, etc.  Joshua goes to the pediatrician every 3 months.  They weigh him, measure is height and the size of his head.  Then they tell us how he stacks up compared to other children his age.  When my husband takes Joshua and I am not there, he always forgets to write down the percentages, which makes me crazy.  It’s important that I know how the size of his head compares to other children his age.  Numbers are important—maybe more so than they should be.

            It was no different in Jesus’ time.  Numbers mattered to people. That was why Peter was asking such a ridiculous question… “How many times should I forgive someone Jesus? How about 7 times?”  Jesus was smart and he knew that Peter was trying to pin him down.  He would have none of it, so he decided to play along.  77, how does that sound Peter? Or 490?  What Jesus knew—and probably what Peter knew as well-- was that the number doesn’t matter because asking Jesus to assign a number to forgiveness is crazy.  It would be like asking someone to rate how much they love you on a scale on 1 to 10.  There are some places in our lives where numbers are useless.  In some ways, they even get in the way because they distract us from things that matter. 

            Forgiveness is hard, even if you are trying to forgive one person once.  It’s not as clear cut as Peter wanted it to be.  When I read this text, my first thought was, “Not forgiveness again. I’m sick of talking about forgiveness.” It’s not that I don’t like forgiveness. I think it’s great.  There is only so much you can say about forgiveness.  It seems like almost every sermon comes down to this: You should forgive.  It’s good for you. It’s good for the person you are forgiving. God forgives you, so you should forgive others.  If that is true, then why is it so hard? 

I have read stories about people forgiving others for horrible crimes and atrocities.  The people who forgive typically talk about what it can do for the other person.  Being forgiven can break the cycle of sin.  It provides an opportunity to start again. It also provides a healing salve for the relationship and the people involved.  In these stories, the people who forgave the sin said it was good for them. It freed them.   When I hear these stories, I always envision a moment when someone just lets go and suddenly feels lighter and freer.  I have tried that.  I have even written it down.  I forgive so and so. I say it out loud.  Then nothing happens.  I don’t feel a weight lifted off of me.  I don’t feel transformed.  There are certainly sometimes when it is easier to forgive someone, especially when they apologize and seem contrite.  I find that having a conversation with someone and understanding what went behind their actions to be helpful. But it’s the other kind of sins that are harder to forgive, the ones that people won’t even admit are sins, the ones that keep being committed over and over again. 

            That’s what I think Jesus was getting at when he threw that unimaginable number out to Peter.  Forgiveness isn’t a one and done thing.  We can’t just wipe the slate clean and move on.  Forgiveness (for humans) is a process that takes time.  It’s like a wound that heals slowly.  At first you have the wound and it looks ugly.  It also hurts constantly.  Then the wound turns into a bright red scar.  It looks bad, but not quite as bad as before.  It doesn’t hurt all the time. The scar gets lighter every day and every year.  Sometimes it even disappears.  There are also times when the scar remains because the wound was too deep.  It’s better, but it’s still there. That is the way forgiveness works.  It starts the process of healing for you and hopefully the person you are forgiving. 

There are some sins that are easier to forgive and some that are much harder.  We can and should try to forgive and heal…we might try our whole lives and that scar never quite goes away. We might never get to the point where we experience that feeling of being lighter and freer.  Yet that does not mean that we should not try to forgive.  It might even be a matter of admitting that we cannot forgive and turning it over to God….saying, “God, I can’t do this so I am handing it off to you.”

            Often times when I preach about forgiveness, or loving our enemies, someone will say something to the effect of:  “What about the mass murderers…or the people who participate in human trafficking?” I don’t know the answer to that. I really don’t.  However, I think that often times, we go to those drastic examples because it’s easier than thinking about the smaller and more personal sins that are less dramatic, but still hurtful.  For now, let’s not worry about forgiving the mass murderers, the terrorists or the people selling children into slavery.  I am not asking you to forgive them and frankly I don’t think God is too worried about that either. God will judge those people.  God is more concerned about those things that keep us awake at night, the things that just get stuck in our heads as endless loops.  Sometimes those are the things that we need to be forgiven for and occasionally things we need to forgive.  It is those things that keep us from fully loving others, ourselves and most importantly God. 

            Sometimes the hardest sins to forgive are ones that we have committed.  Sure, we have asked forgiveness and we know that God technically forgives all sins…but do we really believe that? Remember who Jesus was talking to in this Gospel reading.  Jesus was talking to Peter, the disciple who denied him and abandoned him before his crucifixion.  Jesus forgave him.  Whatever sin we have committed, God can forgive us.  What we have to do is believe that God can and will forgive our sins, even the ones we commit 77 times.