Unexpected Heroes: Nov. 19 2017

Year A, Pentecost 24                                      
Judges 4:1-7                                                           

 

            A couple of years ago I purchased an audio version of the entire Bible.  I thought that it would give me something peaceful and calming to listen to at the end of the day, perhaps before sleep.  When I came to the Book of Judges, I had to skip major chunks.  There was so much war and violence.  It was neither calming nor soothing.  Therefore, it will probably not surprise you that I have never preached on this book.   In my defense, this is the only time we have a reading from Judges in our 3 year lectionary cycle.  It’s also short, has complicated names, and makes no sense if you only read only the part that we heard today.

            Instead of skipping it entirely, I am going to provide a little context. The Book of Judges picks up where the Book of Joshua ends.  Moses had appointed Joshua to be his successor and Joshua had ruled the Hebrew people successfully for decades.  As you can imagine, following leaders like Moses and Joshua would be quite an undertaking.  When Moses died, he appointed Joshua to be his successor.  Joshua did not appoint a successor.  This lack of leadership was difficult for the people of Israel.  The first line of our reading is: “The Israelites again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord…”  Again. 

The Israelites had a pattern in how they related to God.  Take yourself back to high school or college for a minute. You remember the couple.  They would be in love, then there would be a fight and they would break up. Then one person would decide that they could not live without the other. They would get back together and be happy for a time.  Then things would get difficult and they would break up again.  This is a loose analogy for what happened with the Israelites and God.  However, in this case, there was always one party who was at fault, and it was not God. 

            We do not know why God didn’t appoint a leader after Joshua died.  It would be many years before David would become King.  In the interim, there were leaders called judges.  These judges were primarily military leaders who helped Israel defend itself from various enemies.  There would be peace and a good judge.  Then the judge would die and there would be chaos. The people would turn to other gods.  They would then be attacked by an army and realize that they could not survive without the one true God.  They would beg God to deliver them and God would send another judge.  Then the process would start all over again. 

            When we get to the point in today’s story the Israelites are in trouble again. They have been controlled by the Canaanites for 20 years.  They wanted to overthrow their oppressors, but they could only do so with God on their side.   The Canaanite army was led by a man named Sisera and had 900 chariots of iron.  When we hear chariots, we don’t think of something scary and deadly.  However, at the time, iron chariots were the top of the line military equipment. It would be like trying to fight 900 tanks with people armed with pistols…not a fair fight. 

            The judge who led the Israelites in this epic battle was an unexpected leader. She was a judge named Deborah.  As far as we know, Deborah was the only female judge living in a time when women had no authority.  She did.  What made her a strong leader was that she knew that her authority came from God.  She was also a good delegator.  She went to a man named Barak and told him that he would lead the army to defeat the Canaanites. 

This is where our reading for today ends, but this is also where it gets more interesting.  Barak told Deborah that he would only go if she came with him. This is almost unbelievable—a man of that time telling a woman that he would only go into battle with her at his side.  Her response was: “I will surely go with you; nevertheless, the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.”  In other words, sure, I will come, but you are not getting any glory because God is giving the glory to a woman instead.  When we read this, we assume that it is Deborah who will receive the glory, which does not make her look very humble.  It isn’t.  God had another plan.  The Israelites fought hard and won great battles sending the general, Sisera, into hiding with an ally, the King of Hazor.  Sisera thought he was safe, but he wasn’t.  While he was sleeping the wife of the king killed him with a tent stake and then found Barak and showed him where the body was, which meant the Israeli people were victorious.       

            While this makes for a scintillating narrative, it is challenging to preach.  It is hard to find the good news in a story where there is so much violence.  Therefore, we have to look past the violence and focus on the people.  In Book of Judges and most of the Bible, we have a community of fickle people who continually turn away from God.  We might be able to identify with people who have trouble following God.  I know I can.  What we also have, are unlikely heroes.  We have a woman who should never have had the authority she had, not according to the norms of that time and place.  We have Barak, a man who refused to go to battle without the support of a woman. Then we have the wife of a King who wasn’t even an Israelite who showed great courage and cunning.  She should have had no part in this fight.  What those leaders had in common was humility and faith. They knew that they were instruments of God’s will.   They knew what so many have chosen to forget, that we owe everything we have to God.  There is no battle that we can win without the help of God. 

            One of our Eucharistic prayers  (which is what the priest reads before we all take communion) says: You made us the rulers of creation. But we turned against you, and betrayed your trust; and we turned against one another. As Christians, it is important to acknowledge that we too have had those moments when we have turned away from God. Sometimes we know that we are doing it. Sometimes we don’t because we can’t see past our own self-interest.  But then when we need God, we come back to him and he always takes us back. 

The story of the Jewish and the Christian community is complicated and beautiful.  It is full of twists and turns.  It is full of moments of betrayal and moments of desperation.  But what makes our story compelling, what makes our story one that does not end with the words of the Bible, is the unexpected heroes that permeate our faith stories.  Yes, we need to admit our sins and our moments when we turn away from God and one another.  I hope that we can also see those opportunities when we can be the unexpected heroes, the instruments of God’s love, grace and authority. The Christian story is unfinished. It is up to each one of us to decide what role we have in the story.   We do not have to be great warriors to be the heroes of this story.  We just have to be commit ourselves to following the will of God wherever it may lead us.

Taxes, Money and Giving: October 21, 2017

Year A Pentecost 20                                                         

 

            I have never liked talking about money.  I know very few clergy who do, but there are some who are better than others. I am not one of them.  This is why I don’t talk about pledging very often. Last week was our Celebration Sunday, which is when we celebrate what God has given us by giving back. To put it more bluntly, it is when we ask people to turn in their pledges.  It seems that I talked about it so little, some people had no idea what was going on.  This was a lesson for me.  It was more of a reminder, because I know better.  First of all, preaching about money and giving is a good and necessary thing.  It is a huge part of life.  It is what God asks of us.  God asks us to be joyful givers.  Jesus talked more about money than he did about the poor or loving your neighbor. So I know that I need to talk about money. But then I thought, oh well, celebration Sunday was last Sunday, I can talk about it next year. Then I saw the Gospel for today.  Taxes, money, giving.  This is proof that God has a sense of humor.

            It is a clear from the very first verse of this passage what is going on.  “The Pharisees went and plotted to entrap Jesus in what he said.”  Over the last few weeks, we have heard several parables that Jesus shared.  In most of these parables, the Pharisees were not portrayed well.  They came across as hypocritical, narrow minded and just plain wrong.  The Pharisees could not let these teachings continue, so they came up with a plan.  They devised the perfect question to entrap Jesus and then recruited Herodians to be with them when they asked the question. 

While we do not know a lot about the Herodians, we know that they were associated with King Herod.  They were Jewish, but were perceived to be closely allied with the Romans who had appointed Herod to be the king of the Jews.  This was especially offensive to most Jews because only God could appoint a king of the Jewish people.  The Pharisees and the Herodians did not usually get along. Thus to have these two groups working together implied that Jesus had upset not just the Pharisees and Chief Priests, but the Roman leadership as well.

            In this nation, we are divided on taxes.  How much should they be? Where should the income from the taxes go? In Jesus time, the Jewish people were extremely burdened by taxes.  Scholars estimate that there were 3-4 different taxes and most of the income from those taxes went to the Romans.  The Jewish tax money was helping pay for their imprisonment. I think we can all agree that would not be something we would support in this country.  The question was, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” If Jesus answered the question by saying that it was lawful to pay taxes to the Romans, he would have upset the Jews.  He would have lost many of his followers.  If he said that it was not lawful, he would have most likely been arrested by the Romans.  There was absolutely no good way to answer this question.   Jesus took another tactic.

            He told them, “Show me the coin used for the tax.”  In asking for a coin, he was first of all admitting that he did not have any coins.  Someone from the group who was trying to trap him with this tricky question handed him a denarius.  A denarius is a Roman coin.  It would have had a picture of Caesar with the words, “Tiberius Caesar, Son of the Divine Augustus Pontifex Maximus.”  This coin had  an engraved image of a Roman god, an idol.  Just having this coin would have technically meant that any Jew holding it would be breaking the first two commandments. 

            In some ways, the question about whether it was ok for Jews to pay taxes to the Roman was a fair question.  Yet the fact that the Jews asking the questions were the ones holding the coin indicates their hypocrisy.  They were asking if it was ok for them to participate in a system that they were already participating in.  That is why Jesus called them hypocrites.  Jesus really did not like hypocrites.  Remember, Jesus did not have the coin.  He had to ask for it.

            When he had it, he asked them whose image was on the coin.   It was the Emperor’s image.  Jesus then provided his now famous answer, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” In other words, if it has the emperor’s face on it, give it back to him.  A lot of people have used this response to help explain the divide between church and state or sacred and secular; as if Jesus was drawing a line between what was God’s and what was Caesar’s.  That was not the case.

            Jesus asked whose image is on the coin.  Whose image.  Think about the first chapter of Genesis. Genesis takes us through all of God’s creation.  After creating earth, water, plants, animals, God created male and female in his image.  We are made in the image of God.  Therefore when Jesus tells them to give the coin to Caesar because that is whose image is on the coin…well that is a very small thing compared to what and who bears the image to God.  We give coins to the leaders of this earth, but we give ourselves to God.  There is no divide between the sacred and the secular because every part of creation is sacred. 

            The reason talking about stewardship and pledges is difficult is not just because clergy don’t like to talk about money; it’s that talking about what stewardship really means is far too daunting.  Everything belongs to God.  We earn nothing because all we have is a gift from God.  That is a difficult thing to wrap your mind around especially when you have worked very hard for what you have.  But it also explains why giving of ourselves is part of what we do in church. 

In my last church, we had a very outgoing stewardship chair.  He had a deep southern accent and was a little pushy at times, but always charming.  He loved the church.  Once I saw him sidle up to someone in the hall before the service.  It was not someone I saw regularly, not someone I would have expected to pledge.  He put his hand on the man’s shoulder and said, “Dan, do we have your commitment.” Dan looked a little confused.  The stewardship chair stopped so Dan would have to look at him.  “Your commitment.  Are you committed to this church?” He was so earnest.  It even made me uncomfortable.  Yet it made me think of what it would be like to be cornered by Jesus.  What would it be like to have Jesus pull you aside, look into your eyes and say, “Do I have your commitment?”   That is what he asks each one of us every minute of every day.  Are we committed to him? Only you know that answer.    

Violence ≠ Norm : October 8, 2017

Year A, Pentecost 18                                              
Matthew 21:33-46                                                                             

            This has never been one of my favorite Gospel readings.  I am not sure I know anyone who likes this reading.  For me, it’s the violence.  We all know that there is violence in the Bible, but most of us assume that the violence is limited to the Old Testament.  But as we know far too well, violence is part of our world. That does not mean it is a good part of our world, but it is there—now-- just as it was 2000 years ago.  Jesus was never one to shy away from uncomfortable topics. 

            In preaching we are told never to allegorize the parables.  In other words, we should not simplify them by turning them into morality stories where everything symbolizes somethings else.  Usually it is not that cut and dry.  However for this parable, it is a little more cut and dry because the story is a reference to the words of Isaiah where he talked about a vineyard and said: “For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel…”  The land owner in the story is God and the land that others are caring for is not just the land of Israel, but the people of Israel, the people of God.  That is the only part of the parable that is defined in Isaiah, but that is a pretty big part.  Most people have inferred that the tenants who treated the owner’s servants poorly represented the religious leaders of the time.  People have assumed this because of the way that the Pharisees and the Chief Priests reacted.  The text says that they realized it was about them and wanted to arrest Jesus because of that.  But Jesus never says that directly.[1] 

            One of confusing things about this parable is the actions of the owner.  The beginning of the story makes sense.  He prepares the land and equips it with everything that is needed for a good harvest.  It was not uncommon for a business man to own land and lease it to someone else. The expectation was that in exchange for allowing the people to harvest his land, they would give him a percentage of either the profit or the harvest itself.  In this case, the owner was collecting a portion of the produce.   To do so, he sent servants out to collect the produce.  So far, everything is making sense.  Then the tenants kill one servant and injure the two others.  This is a violent reaction, but not unprecedented.  These tenants were clearly abusing the owner and his servants by doing this. 

One would expect the owner to react just as severely.  He could take a chance and send more servants, but this time send them heavily armed.  More likely it would have been wise to send members of the army to arrest those corrupt tenants.  He did neither of those things.  He sent more people assuming that the tenants would have gotten over their violent tendencies.  However, this new group of servants were treated the same way as the first group. By now, several of his servants were dead and the rest were injured. It seems like this would be the time to send in the big guns…the cavalry.  These tenants were clearly not going to have a change of heart.  Yet this is where things get a little crazy.  The owner sends his son.  His son. One person. He assumes that by putting trust in these tenants, they would see what a caring owner he is. They would repent and treat the son better than the others he sent.   But they don’t. They kill the son. 

            At this point in the story, Jesus turns to the crowd and he asks them what they think the owner will do next.  They respond in the most practical and reasonable way.  The owner will kill those horrible wretches and give someone else the land.  In responding this way, the people in the crowd showed their limitations.  Their response was violence because that was all they knew.  If someone kills someone, they get killed.  That is fair and just. But that is not how the owner operates.  That is not how God operates.  God gave humans everything we could possibly need. When God asked something in return (obedience, love and loyalty) humans refused.  So God sent the prophets, people of wisdom, strength and faith. Most were killed and all were treated with cruelty.  Then God sent his son hoping that people would learn from his son, come to understand God in a new way.  Some did, but the vast majority did not.  God’s son was beaten and killed. 

How did God respond to this ultimate betrayal?  Did he avenge the death of his son? Did he strike down all the people who had rejected him, accused him, ignored him, beaten him and ultimately killed him? That would have been the fair thing to do. That would have been the just thing to do.  He didn’t.  He raised Jesus from the dead and he sent him back to the same people who rejected him. 

While we know the end of this story, let’s assume for a minute that we do not know the end.  Sending Jesus back again seems like a really bad idea to me.  God had already given the people many chances.  He had been more than fair.  Why send his son back?  Because it was about more than being fair. It’s about how God loves God’s people—how God loves us.  God does not love us in the ways that make any sense. He gives us countless chances to reform, countless chances to respond to cruelty and hate not with violence, but with forgiveness and love. 

            It’s true that it made a huge difference when God sent Jesus back from the dead.  For those who had believed, their faith was renewed.  For those who doubted, they came to believe.   No one tried to kill Jesus again, at least not that we know of.  Thus, it would seem that this final desperate attempt was successful.  Or was it?  Yes, a church was created.  Christianity was spread across the world and continues to thrive in many places. Yet, Christians continue to be persecuted in some places. People doing the work of God are still killed.  The problem is even more complex and pervasive than that.  Even as Christians, as followers of Christ, we continue to turn from him again and again.  We don’t kill the son, but it seems at times like we try. 

            God gave his son.  While Jesus ascended, we still have him. We have that gift that God foolishly bestowed on us so many years ago.  We have the gift of a love that has no limit.  With that gift comes a responsibility, like discovering ways to respond to injustice without resorting to violence.  I cannot tell you exactly how to do it. I have some ideas, but I am not sure of anything.  What I know is that what we are doing is not working. The crowd responded to Jesus in the only way they knew-- violence.[2]  That was not Jesus’ response.  As Christians, we have been taught something different. The norm can no longer be death and destruction.

 By the time a child turns 18, they will have seen an average of 16,000 murders on television and over 200,000 acts of violence. It’s the default. It’s the norm. Many people have said that when they heard about the shooting in Las Vegas, they felt numb.  Oh, another shooting.  We have gone numb.  That is not what Jesus wanted.  That I know for sure.

            Perhaps what we can do, what we can start to do, is shift our thinking so that violence does not have to be the default.  We can look at creative options.  I know that sometimes violence has to happen.  I am not a pacifist.  I know that I live in a country that is safer than most partly because we have the strength to respond to violence.   But that does not have to be the only way.  As I considered how we could shift our thinking, our baseline, I looked at the first reading.  It’s the 10 commandments.  If we followed those 10 commandments, there would be peace in this world.  Take your bulletin home.  Read those commandments every day this week, even before you look at the news.  Start imagining what the world would look like if we actually followed God’s guidance.  If we can spend more time thinking and praying on those things, then that will be our default.  Let God’s love and grace be the way we start our day. We can change the norm.

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[1] This is mostly likely what Matthew was saying, but this was partially due to the fact that the church was facing persecution from the Jews at the time.  Unfortunately texts like this have fueled anti-Semitism over the last 2000 years.

[2] I am not saying Jews only knew violence.  With the Roman occupation, and some of the laws of the Torah, violence was often uses as a form of punishment.  Jesus taught something different.

Not so comfortable words: Oct 1, 2017

Year A, St. Francis                                                    

Matthew 11:20-30                                                                             

            “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” That is probably a familiar passage for most of you. The first part of it is used in the Rite 1 service.  It comes after the confession and absolution and is referred to as the “comfortable words.”  They are called “comfortable words” because they are verses that are supposed to bring people comfort.  It makes sense to put it right after the absolution, after we have confessed our sins and been forgiven.  Where it does not make sense is where it comes in the actual Gospel reading.  It comes right after Jesus tells several cities that they are doomed.  “You will all suffer! Come to me so I can comfort you.”  At first glance, it seems like a weird combination. 

            Generally, when Jesus starts a sentence with “Woe to you…” you pretty much know that it won’t end well.  Jesus seems angry as he condemns these cities.  He had done some of his best work in these cities.  There were miracles that were not even described in the Gospels, things we cannot  imagine.  There were sermons never heard again…because no one cared enough to write them down.  It would be easy to assume that these reproachful words to these cities came from a place of anger. 

While it is true that Jesus did get angry at times, the “Woe” statements were about more than anger. It was disappointment, sadness.  One commentator described these verses as “The accent of heartbroken condemnation.”[1] In these five verses, Jesus condemned five different towns.  One would expect that they would have done something pretty horrible.  Actually we don’t know of anything horrible that happened in these cities. It appears that the worst of their crimes was that they were indifferent to Jesus.  He performed the majority of his miracles in those towns, and they responded with apathy.  There was no reformation.   There was no transformation.  They did not reject Jesus or run him out of town.  They did not care enough to even respond to Jesus’ presence.

            Why is it that we have this interesting combination of verses as we honor St. Francis?  I read that St. Francis is one of the most popular and admired saints, but probably the least imitated.  It is not difficult to realize why that is.  He lived a life of abject poverty.  He gave away all that he had and renounced the wealth of his father.  He would not accept money for any work he did, only food.  When he did not have work he would go through the garbage for food. He worked with the lepers, the outcasts of society.  People were attracted to him for his air of joy, abandonment and freedom. The pope created the order of friars that would take a vow of poverty.  The order grew quickly and then suffered the loss of many people. Men who joined could not accept the lifestyle that was required. Francis was forced to make some concessions because so few people could follow in his footsteps.          

            On the feast of St. Francis, the Episcopal Church has a tradition of blessing animals.  I love that tradition because I love animals.  I believe that they too are part of God’s beloved creation.  When God created us, the expectation is that we would take care of this world that he created and that includes animals.  St. Francis is associated with animals because there are a lot of legends with him and animals. He loved animals…and not just the cute and cuddly kind.  While I enjoy the animal blessing, I fear that sometimes we overemphasize this part of St. Francis, and ignore the parts of St. Francis that are more challenging…like giving away all of your money and hanging out with lepers. 

            I think we do the same thing with Jesus and the Bible. We tend to tame Jesus and his words.  We emphasize the comfortable words and we skim over the parts where Jesus condemns a city for ignoring him and displaying apathy.  Both Francis and Jesus asked a lot of people and  Jesus continues to expect a great deal from us. He wants more than one hour of attention on Sunday morning.  He wants all of us.  Someone once said, “Jesus loves you just the way you are, but he loves you too much to let you stay that way.”  Jesus wants transformation and transformation is hard and usually inconvenient.

            This is why I have always found it strange that Jesus said, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” There is nothing easy about Jesus…so what does he mean when he says this?  A yoke is a wooden beam generally used on a pair of oxen.  The beam would go over the two oxen, connecting them to one another as well as to the load they were pulling. The best kind of yoke was one that was custom fitted to the ox so that there was no chafing.  This would allow them to pull heavy loads, but it would still be comfortable on their necks and shoulders.   The Greek word that is translated to “easy” in this text, could also be translated to well fitting or kind.  Well fitting yokes were kind to the animals because it kept them more comfortable.  It did not make the load lighter; it just made it easier to carry. 

If we were to go with this translation, Jesus would be saying, “My yoke is well fitting and kind.”  That makes a little more sense to me.  Jesus did not say that following him would be easy. He did not even say that he would lighten our burdens.  What he said was that if we followed him and did our very best to be his disciples, he would walk with us, even when the load seems unbearable.  The yoke goes over 2 oxen.  When we are his disciples, we are yoked to Jesus.  And if you are going to carry a heavy load, the best partner you can have is Jesus. 

 

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[1] Barclay 12

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.    

Loving mean people: Sept 3, 2017

Year A, Pentecost 13                                                          
Romans 12:9-21                                                                     

 

            At several of the major Episcopal Church events I have attended, protestors from the Westboro Baptist Church have showed up. You have probably heard of them.  They not only protest churches that open their doors to the gay and lesbian community, they protest at funerals of military personnel who have died in war. The signs they hold are incredibly hurtful and cruel, especially considering they are often appearing at places where people are grieving.  People have learned that inciting this small group is a mistake for a variety of reasons.  One of the most powerful responses I have seen  is people dressed up as angels with large wings that provide a barrier between those at the funeral and the people protesting.  These angels are essentially shielding people from these evil words.  The angels don’t say anything. They just stand there.  It is not only a powerful witness, it’s practical. 

            Our reading from Paul is part of his letter to the Romans.  Often times Paul is addressing specific issues that have come up.  This part of his letter seems to be more general advice.   It’s kind of a list of what it is to be a Christian.  In the beginning of the chapter, before our reading, Paul wrote that we are to be transformed by the renewing of our minds so that we may discern the will of God in our lives.  If we are transformed on the inside, then our actions should reflect that transformation.  In our reading for today, Paul tells us what that looks like—what it looks like to be transformed. “Love each other with genuine affection…work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Be patient in trouble and keep on praying.  When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them.”  I think we can all agree this is good advice.  While it is difficult to follow all of this advice all of the time, it’s definitely something we should try to do. 

            But Paul never likes to make things easy on people.  After he provides this advice that would probably easily make it into any Chicken soup for the soul book, he takes it a couple steps further.  “Bless those who persecute you.  Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them…Never pay back evil with more evil…Instead if your enemies are hungry, feed them. If they are thirsty, give them something to drink.”  In other words, we can’t just ignore the mean people, we have to be nice to them.  We have to bring them water and snacks!?  That sounds crazy. How will they know they are wrong? 

            When we think of non-violent resistance, we often think of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King. While he was not the first to use this method of resistance, he was the first to use it in the United States on a large scale. The thing about non-violent resistance in the Civil Rights Era was that it often led to violence against African Americans and occasionally the white people who were supporting them.  Some people got understandably frustrated. They were tired of getting beaten up and not responding in kind.   

            Martin Luther King knew the Bible and he knew Paul and I wonder if he was thinking of these words from Paul.  Paul said that we must respond to evil with good.  By doing so, “you will heap burning coals of shame on their heads.”  Have you ever seen pictures of the Civil Rights marches with non-armed people getting beaten by heavily armed police?  It is horrifying.  It is shameful.  When people saw those images, it had a huge effect.  Now, it is a travesty that it took those kinds of images to make an impact, but it is exactly what Paul was saying. It is why non-violent protest or passive resistance can be so effective.   Shame can motivate people.

            Yet, despite the fact that this was so effective in the Civil Rights Movement, I don’t think anyone should have to live through that.  I wondered as I was reading Paul’s words what it looks like to repay evil with good.  How could that possibly accomplish anything?  Recently we have seen a lot of protests and counter protests end in bloodshed.  Because of that, it makes sense that some people think the best response is no response…silence. However, silence implies complicity.  Paul is not arguing for silence. He is telling us to respond to evil and to respond with kindness and love.

            In researching this text, I saw a link to an article about a small town in Germany. This town had the misfortune of being the home of the grave of Rudolph Hess who was a deputy of Adolph Hitler.  As a result, every year neo-Nazis march through the town.  The town held counter protests. They attempted to stop this march through the legal system.  They even exhumed the body and moved the headstone. The Nazis kept marching.  In 2014, the town decided to try something new.  Without the marchers’ knowledge, local residents and businesses sponsored the 250 participants of the march in what was described as Germany’s “most involuntary walkathon.” For every meter they walked, €10 went to a program called EXIT Deutschland which helps people escape extremist groups. The people of the town had tables with free bananas with a sign that urged the marchers to take the bananas so they  could keep up their energy to continue to march and earn money to fight the Nazis.  At the end of the march a huge banner read, “Thank you for your donation.” They even threw rainbow confetti.  This method has spread to other small towns around Europe.[1]  I think Paul would approve of this method.

            Most of the time, we are not faced with such obvious displays of hate.  Typically, it is much more nuanced. Yet Paul’s words are still appropriate.  It’s difficult. I know it is because I have a hard time with it.  I get mad when people are rude.  I get really mad.  That’s not helpful. That has more to do with what is going on with me than what someone says or doesn’t say.  What I have noticed is that when I have not dedicated time to my relationship with God--that is when it is most difficult to love others.  Paul begins by urging us not to pretend to love others, but that we let our love be genuine.  The only way we can have that genuine love for others is if we know what that love feels like.  While God gives his love freely, it is up to us to embrace it.  After we embrace it, we can embody it.  Once we embody it…then we can share it with others, even the rude people.   The angels with huge wings are awesome at blocking the cruel signs, but God’s love can do more than just be a barrier to hate.  It can end it.

 

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[1] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/nov/18/neo-nazis-tricked-into-raising-10000-for-charity

Learning to Change: August 20, 2017

Year A, Pentecost 11                                                 
Matthew 15:10-28                                                     

            When I was little and I heard the story of the birth of Jesus, I thought he simply dropped out of heaven. There was no real birth.  One minute the manger was full of hay and the next minute there was a baby.  I never thought of him growing up, being a toddler, or an adolescent.  Part of the reason is that the Bible tells us almost nothing about Jesus before he turned 30.  He was a baby.  Then he was 12.  Then he was 30.  Some people believe that there were stories about Jesus as a child, but they did not make it into the Bible because he was a child, doing childish things.  For instance according to these stories, when a child spurned him, he retaliated.  When he got in trouble for making clay pigeons on the Sabbath, he turned the clay pigeons into living birds, because he could.[1]  These stories speak of a child learning how to handle his power. It makes sense.  If Jesus was fully human, then he had to learn and grow.  He had to change. He was not born in the body of 30 year old, nor was he born with the mind of a 30 year old man.

There were also occasions where other people encouraged him to change. One example is the wedding feast.  It’s a familiar story.  They ran out of wine.  His mother asked Jesus to turn water into wine.  He said, no this is not my time. He did not think he was ready. His mother persisted and he agreed. He performed his first public miracle at the request of his mother.  Another example is our reading from today. Jesus had left his home turf and was in the region of Sidon.  This is important because this is an area that was populated by Gentiles, not Jews.  These were people that good Jews did not interact with.  The disciples had probably never been in a place like this. 

            As soon as he got there, a woman came to him, shouting “Have mercy on me Lord, Son of David, my daughter is tormented by demons.”  I am sure that he noticed that she was using the Jewish title for him.  “Son of David.” She knew who he was.  Despite that, he tried to ignore her. That was the easy thing to do, maybe even the polite thing to do.  He did not want to have to tell someone that he could not help her. 

Yet this Gentile woman, was relentless.  She could not take a hint. She kept coming at him and by now she had everyone’s attention, even the disciples.  They wanted him to just get rid of her. He tried. He told her the party line. He was just there for the people of Israel.  She could not be deterred.  She knelt at his feet…his feet.  There was no avoiding her.  He said, “It is not fair to take the children’s crumbs and throw it to the dogs.” That was what they called Gentiles.  Jews called Gentiles dogs because dogs were dirty.  They did not keep the purity laws. The children were the Jewish people, the chosen people.  His first duty was to the children—the Jews. 

            Instead of acting offended or lashing out, this woman chose another tactic.  She responded, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” She understood and acknowledged what no one else had. That even if he was meant to tend to the Jewish people first, there was more than enough mercy to meet the needs of the rest of the world.  Even the crumbs, the tossed off waste of his abundant love was enough….enough for her, her daughter, and the world. 

            And here is when it gets tricky.  Jesus, the all-knowing, all powerful Messiah learned something in that moment.  All along, he believed that he was there for the lost sheep of Israel.  They were his primary mission. Yet he saw something in this woman. He saw perseverance, courage, faith and knowledge.  She understood him and his ministry better than the Pharisees, perhaps even better than the disciples. She knew that his love was so great, so powerful, that there was enough to go around.  She helped him see something that he had not yet seen.  Because of that he saw not just a woman kneeling at his feet, but a beloved child of God who was ready to hear his message and experience his mercy. 

            The reason people struggle with the idea of Jesus changing his mind is that implies that he not was right to begin with.  It means he was imperfect, that he was not all-knowing. Yet I believe that he was that much more powerful because he was open to change.  He was willing to learn, willing to learn from a woman, a Gentile, willing to let go of a belief that one ethnicity was better than another, willing to accept that his love was without limit.  There was enough to go around. He did not have to wait for the Jews to accept him before moving on to the next group. He could start his ministry to the Gentiles now.

As a church, we are called to be disciples of Christ, to follow his example.  Part of following this example, is being willing to change and to let go of our prejudice and fear.  Our world is a scary place.  Just this week, ISIS killed 13 people and wounded 100 in an attack on a popular street in Spain.  They gave no reason.  You don’t need a reason when your heart is full of hate.

Before that we experienced our own terror right here in Virginia.  We saw a display of hate that while not unprecedented, was certainly a wake-up call for those who thought that kind of racism was a thing of the past.  When I was a on a mission trip in Appalachia several years ago, I was driving alone looking for one of our groups. I was lost because GPS did not work there.  I drove down a stranger’s driveway hoping I could get some directions. Instead I ran into a member of the KKK.  He was not wearing a white hood, nor was he burning a cross.  He just wanted to share that I had wandered onto the property of a clansman. I was terrified, and I am a white Christian.  I kept thinking, what would have happened if our African American youth was with me in that car. I told myself that this man was just some crazy guy in the hills of West Virginia. 

Yet just last week, we saw it on a college campus.  We saw in on our newsfeed, twitter, facebook.  Hate was on full display.  The root of that hate is the belief that one group is better than the other, that one group is more deserving of God’s love.  Two thousand years ago, Jesus started something. He started to dismantle prejudice.  He told people that they were loved, no matter what they looked like, or who they were related to. He told people that they were to love their neighbor and their enemy.  As his disciples, we are called to continue his work.  Much like the woman who was seeking mercy, we cannot relent.  We must persist.  Like Jesus, we have to look at the prejudices within ourselves.  While we cannot produce miracles, we can bring healing to our community and our broken world. The first step in that healing, is acknowledging the brokenness.  In our Eucharistic Prayer for today, the priest says, “But we turned against you, and we betrayed your trust; and we turned against one another.” Then we break the bread as a symbol of Jesus broken on the cross, as a symbol of our own brokenness. That is not how it ends.  The way the prayer ends is that we all come to the altar. We all partake in the love that Jesus shared.   We become vessels of his love and grace. 

As those vessels, we have a responsibility to carry that love and grace.  While God’s love and grace has no limit, each person has a limit to the pain that they can bear.  No Jew should have to see someone wield a swastika, a symbol of their intended annihilation.  No African American should have to hear racial slurs hurled at them. Sometimes God’s grace looks like us, standing between hate and the recipients of hate. 

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[1] The Infancy Gospel of Thomas: http://gnosis.org/library/inftoma.htm