Showing posts with label Year B Pentecost 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Year B Pentecost 2. Show all posts

Sunday, June 6, 2021

A piece of the weight of glory: June 6, 2021

(This will be my last post until Aug 16th as I am leaving for sabbatical.)

 Year B Pentecost 2                                                 2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1                                                                             

This may shock some of you, but camping is not my thing. I like the idea of camping, but not the actual sleeping on the ground part. I blame my dislike of camping on some early childhood experiences.  You see my family was never big into preparation—like checking weather. One of my earliest memories was when we lived in Belgium.  For some reason we decided to go camping right before a huge storm.  All 6 of us were in one tent, which was not nearly strong enough for the rain and the wind.  My dad and oldest brother held the tent up while the rest of us slept. I was only 4 or 5 at the time and didn’t recognize how hard that must have been for them.  I just remember waking up periodically in the night, seeing them, and having no doubt that we would be safe. 

Photo by Jarhead Core

            Paul used the image of the tent when talking about our earthly existence.  It’s not surprising that he used this image since he was a tent maker.  He was probably intimately aware of the usefulness of a tent, while also mindful of its limitations.  A tent was never meant to be a permanent home, much like our earthly bodies are not meant to be a permanent home.   

In this letter to the Corinthians, Paul was attempting explain to the Corinthians why we can’t use human standards when trying to determine the success of the Gospel of Jesus Christ or our success as disciples. In the first part of the letter, he spent a lot of time defending himself and his suitability as a leader. 

Since his first visit, the people of Corinth had been wooed by false prophets---ones who spoke more articulately, looked more powerful and performed numerous miracles.  These prophets also told the people of Corinth what they wanted to hear. Paul wasn’t impressive in speech or appearance and he never told people what they wanted to hear. It was usually quite the opposite.  Therefore it is understandable that the people of Corinth had wandered off the path.

As a result, Paul had the rather Herculean task of convincing these people that suffering and hardship wasn’t a sign of failure or weakness---it might even indicate you are doing things right.  Suffering was and is inevitable when following a crucified Messiah.

To make his point, Paul contrasted our outer natures and our inner natures.    When Paul referred to our outer nature, it was more than just our bodies.  It’s all that is ephemeral—all that is passing. That includes our bodies, our minds, our social networks, our homes, our victories and our defeats.  It’s everything that is seen.  The inner nature is the new life we experience when we come into a relationship with God. 

We might assume that when Paul refers to our inner nature, he is talking about the afterlife, but that is not the case. He is clearly describing the present when he writes, “Our inner nature is being renewed day by day.”  That inner nature is what gives us the strength to handle what is happening all around us—what is happening to our outer nature.

He then wrote, For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen…” I found myself quite enraptured by the phrase “eternal weight of glory.”  I always associated that phrase with heaven and eternal life.  But if we have an inner nature that is being renewed day by day ---right now, we must therefore have a portion of that weight of glory right now as well.  It’s not the eternal weight of glory, but it is glory none the less. 

But what is the weight of glory? It is the thumb print of God on our souls.  It is the part of us that cannot be touched by all the stuff that life throws at us.  It’s the weight that holds our tent upright.  So even when our tent is falling apart, even when the world seems to be falling apart, we do not lose heart.

As Christians, we live in this in-between place.  We are in a place where our bodies limit us yet our hope remains in that which is limitless.  Right now our bodies are fragile and not meant to last forever.  Most of us have seen evidence of that in our own health.  But it’s not just our bodies that our fragile, it’s our whole world. 

The fragility of our world has been abundantly clear over the last year.  Most of the things that we took for granted were compromised by a virus.  Entire industries and governments were brought to their knees. Even those things we hold sacred, our houses of worship and our families were separated from us. We lost people who were incredibly important to us and some were denied the opportunity to mourn in our Holy spaces.  Yet, we do not lose heart, because we carry (right now) the weight of glory.

That is what Paul had that the false prophets could never convey, a faith that no matter how bad things get, pain and suffering never has the final word, not when you are grounded by the weight of glory.

We have a tradition at the Annual Council of our diocese where we read memorials for people who have died who were active in the diocese, whether as clergy or lay people.  After the names and stories were read, we would have a moment of silence and then our previous bishop would say, “May they rise in glory.” I always liked that phrase.  It sounds triumphant. Here on earth the weight of glory steadies us.  It gives us a strength that only God can give.  But when we die, then that glory allows us to rise into a new life with Christ. 

As Christians, we are in an in-between place and sometimes that feels precarious and exhausting.  Yet God doesn’t abandon us in this in between world.  He gives us something, something that never decays, never wastes away.  He gives us an inner nature that is being renewed day by day and a weight of glory that holds us up so we can stand against even the greatest and most unexpected storms.  Today, may we all stand with the weight of glory holding us up.  One day, may we all rise with the eternal glory of Christ.

 

Sunday, June 3, 2018

Let's talk about death: June 3, 2018

Year B, Pentecost 2                                                                
2 Corinthians 4:5-12                                                              
 
            When I was 12 or 13, I read that your body starts dying at the age of 25.  It had quite an effect on me.  My brothers are older and I considered their ages.  One was 25, but the other 2 still had some time left, which was a relief.  As you can imagine my 25th birthday was a bit of a downer.  Since then I have learned a little bit more about the body and how it ages.  It’s not quite as stark as it seemed at age 12 or 13, but I am aware that one way or another, time takes its toll on your body. We are all mortal which means we are all dying.

            I was in seminary on my 25th birthday, so while coming to terms with my own mortality, I was also reading about how to minister to people who are actually dying. I was practicing my first funeral sermon.  This meant that I thought more about death and dying than your average 25 year old. Since then I have had some time to put it in perspective.  I have also read a lot of the Apostle Paul and he can be reassuring at times.  Had the Apostle Paul been around for my 25th birthday, he would have told me that I already carried death within me. Once baptized, you carry the death of Christ in you.  In his letter to the Corinthians, he wrote, “(we are) always carrying in (our) body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh.”  I am not sure that would have made a great message on my 25th birthday card, but it works in this passage.

            That said, what does it really mean?  It’s definitely not straightforward. If we are going to carry Jesus within us, wouldn’t it make more sense to carry the living Jesus in us? For Paul, understanding and experiencing dying was integral to understanding living.  Think of it in your own life.  When do you really appreciate your own health—after you have recovered from an illness.  I have been fortunate in that I have only been really sick once in my life.  One of the side effects was problems breathing.  After I got better, I remember thinking, “I will never take breathing for granted again.”  That lasted about a day, but that experience did give me a renewed appreciation for living and breathing. 

            Paul talked a lot about physical suffering in his letters.  In doing so, he emphasized the vulnerability of the human body.  In this passage he said, “But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.” The clay jar is a metaphor for the human body.  In the time Paul was writing (almost 2000 years ago) clay jars were a common household item. They were easily made an also easily broken.  They weren’t put on display. The important thing about the clay jar was not the jar itself, but what the jar carried. As Christians, we carry the death and life of Jesus.  It’s a precious thing.  The jar is precious not because of what it looks like, or what it is worth.  It is precious because what it holds. 

            This metaphor of the jar is one of the ways that Paul displayed and taught humility. It is easy to become a little self-important.  We may even feel that we are in control. Then we get sick and we remember we are not in control at all. Paul was saying that the fragility of our bodies helps us to remember that it is not we who are powerful, it is God who is powerful.  The metaphor of the jar can seem a little insulting.  Clay jars had little worth. They were fragile and easy to replace. No one wants to think of themselves that way.     

            We don’t have to, because we carry a treasure of infinite value, which means that we, even in our fragile state are extraordinary.  It also takes a little pressure off us.  There is so much competition in this world.  It is easy to feel as though we are not good enough.  But what if we could just accept that we are not good enough?  What if we could just admit that we are fragile?  We are somewhat ordinary. After all, there are 7.6 billion people in this world. We are one of 7.6 billion. But that doesn’t matter because we are the vessels of a treasure, a priceless treasure. What can make us unique and special is our ability to display that treasure that we all carry.

            One of the ways we can display that treasure is in how we approach suffering and adversity. Paul wrote, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair;…struck down but not destroyed.”  Being a Christian does not mean that we do not suffer.  It means that we have a reason to move through the suffering. I don’t like to use the phrase overcome suffering, because some suffering cannot be overcome.  We don’t conquer suffering.  We wade through the suffering and eventually we make it to the other side.  One commentator wrote that “We are at our wit’s end but not our hope’s end.  As Christians, we may not know what to do, but we always know that something can be done.”[1] That is what it means to be perplexed but not be driven to despair. 

            Despite my advanced age (well past 25), I cannot be exactly sure what Paul meant when he said that “we carry the life and death of Jesus in our bodies.” However, I believe what Paul was really talking about is how we cope with suffering as Christian.  I n facing adversity and suffering, we are showing how we carry the dying Christ.  When we move through that suffering and adversity and refuse to give up hope, that is when we display the living Christ, the Christ who conquered death and rose again.  Unfortunately, there can be no living Christ without the dying Christ. There can be no Easter Sunday without Good Friday. The Good News is that with God in our life, there always is a resurrection.  There always is reason to hope. We may be dying, but death isn’t the end, it’s a chance for new beginning.



[1] Barclay 199