Jiminy Cricket: April 22, 2018

Year B, Easter 4                                                            
1 John 3:16-24                                                                                 

Most of us have probably heard the phrase, “Let your conscience be your guide.”  It comes from the film Pinocchio, which is about a wooden puppet who wants to be a boy.  He must prove himself worthy by showing that he is brave, truthful and unselfish.  To help guide him in this quest, he has a little cricket named Jiminy Cricket who is the voice of his conscience.  One of the famous songs is, “Give a little whistle.” 

The first lines are:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/tom-margie/2068063834

When you get in trouble and you don't know right from wrong-- Give a little whistle!

When you meet temptation and the urge is very strong--Give a little whistle!

If only it were that easy…if we could simply determine the right thing to do by whistling.  (Of course that would be a problem for people incapable of whistling.) We are bombarded in our culture with advice like “Let you conscience be your guide.”  “Follow your heart!” “Listen to your heart!’ “Go with your gut.”  It’s this idea that somewhere inside each of us is wisdom and truth and if we can become in tune with that part of us, we will discover the right path.

            I am not sure that is true.  Because our hearts can sometimes lead us astray.  Our gut or our feelings are usually based on our own best interest, which might not always be the best interest of everyone around us.  Thankfully, as Christians, we have this handy book (the Bible). The Bible is full of wisdom and guidance. Unfortunately, it can be a little harder to discern the wisdom of the Bible than it is to follow our gut or google something on the web.  Calling on the wisdom of the Holy Spirit requires more than a whistle. 

While the Bible can be difficult to decipher, especially if we are looking for an answer to a specific problem, there are consistent truths in the Bible.  I know it is hard to sit down and just read the Bible.  Most people think that they have to start with Genesis.  However, if you want to read an entire book of the Bible and you do not have a lot of patience or time, consider 1^st John.  By the end of the Easter season, we will have read from this book every Sunday for 6 Sundays.  There are only 5 chapters in the whole book (which is also a reason it’s a good book to start with). 

One of the reasons I think our lectionary spends so much time on 1^st John is because it’s emphasis on love.  You might think, well the whole Bible is about love.  That is true, but  1^st John is dense with love.  Despite the fact that it only has 5 chapters, the word love appears more often in this book than any other book in the New Testament—except the Gospel of John which is four times as long. First John is dense with love.

As I was reading the lessons for today, I kept coming back to one line. “God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”  In the Episcopal Church, we use a specific translation of the Bible called the NRSV. I found the NRSV translation for this verse tricky which led me to read through other translations.  Another reliable translation reads, “ For if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart.”[1]

It’s not just that our hearts can be unreliable at times, sometimes our feelings can be destructive.  We can be plagued by doubt, fear, anxiety and guilt.  Occasionally those things that plague us are based on very real experiences.  However, sometimes it’s not a real experience. There are some of us who are simply more inclined to experience feelings of doubt and anxiety than others.  It’s just the way we are born.  And even if we are one of those people who are fortunate enough not to be inclined toward those feelings of guilt and doubt, everyone can experience those emotions under strain and stress. 

Let’s assume that you are inclined toward guilt and while you know that God has forgiven you (in theory at least) it’s still hard to get past it. It still affects how you think and act. When you feel guilty all the time, it’s harder to be in relationship with God.  That is one way our heart can condemn us. 

Another example might be the way society tells us that what we have or who we are is never enough.  Every marketing campaign ever created is based on the idea that you need the thing that is being sold and you need it because you lack something, something that other people have.  On social media, we see the best of other people’s life, which means that despite the fact that we are more connected than ever, people feel more isolated, lonely and inadequate. Any time of the day or night, we can find someone who seems to be doing better than we are.  As a result, we become more self-focused and less inclined to be in relationship with God and one another.  That is another way that our hearts condemn us. 

The good news is that God is bigger than our heart or the ability of our heart to condemn us. John goes further to say, “Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before God…”  If we have boldness before God, that means we can be honest and free.  We can consider our faults and our failures and we can move past them.  We can be free to act in love, to show our love in truth and action. That is another big point of this reading from 1^st John.  We don’t just talk about love, we demonstrate it. It’s a lot easier to show love when you are not riddled with doubt, fear, anxiety or any of those corrosive emotions.

This is all fine and good, but whistling would still be easier. Having a talking cricket at our side would come in handy.  While John doesn’t give us a catchy song he does provide the heart of the Christian message succinctly.  John writes, “And this is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us.”  Even if that is all you can remember, that would be enough. Believe in Jesus and love one another.

You know the interesting thing about Jiminy Cricket?  Apparently back in the day, people would use the phrase when amazed or afraid.  It was said in place of Jesus Christ so people could avoid using the name of the Lord in vain. It is not a surprise that Walt Disney would choose a variation of the name of Jesus Christ for the voice of wisdom, conscience, and friendship. 

While I think it would be extremely helpful if we could call upon the wisdom of Jesus with a whistle---and be even be better yet if we all had our own personal animated insect following us around serving as the voice of reason--- we have something and someone better.  We have God as a constant companion.  At the end of our reading, John writes, “All who obey his commandments abide in him and he abides in them.”  Abide means to stay, or make your home in something or someone.  God sent Jesus and then the Holy Spirit to make a space within each of us where he/she[2] could rest.  That means, we don’t have to whistle or depend on someone on the outside providing wisdom.  We have the Spirit within. 

---

[1] New Kings James Version

[2] The Greek word translated to Holy Spirit is feminine, which means it’s ok to refer to the Holy Spirit as she…but I did not say this in my sermon, as that would have been a bit of a detour.

So What? April 15, 2018

Luke 24: 36-48                                                                                   
Year B, Easter 3                                                                                 

 

Alleluia. Christ has risen

The Lord has risen indeed. Alleluia.

So what?  That is what I want to ask sometimes.  Our liturgy offers such succinct and elegant ways of articulating what we believe.  This liturgy has been honed over 100s or even 1000 years.  The benefit is that it’s a constant.  We can always fall back on the words of our liturgy and the words of the Book of Common Prayer.  When we do not have the energy or perhaps even the faith to create our own prayers, or talk to God, we can always turn to what we have in front of us.  But the problem is that we do not always think about what we say.  We say it because it is written and we have always said it that way.  Sometimes I wish we could adlib a little and after  you say, “The Lord is risen indeed!” I could say, “So what?”  Why does it matter that he is risen indeed?

Let’s consider the way the disciples reacted to the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  We know that after his death they ran and hid.  They thought it was over.  They were probably just trying to figure out where to go next.  They could not stay in Jerusalem. Jerusalem was the scene of failure and death.  It was the end of a movement that they had dedicated their life to.  And while Jesus had told them he would be back, they did not know what he meant by that.  Thus their initial reaction to the empty tomb and accounts from those who claimed to have seen Jesus alive was doubt and incredulity.  Those are fairly logical reactions to news that a dead person is back. 

In today’s reading, the disciples aren’t just dealing with an empty tomb or stories of the risen Christ, they are actually seeing Jesus alive in front of them.  He came to where they were. He opened with a greeting that should have eased their anxiety.  “Peace be with you.” That is the kind of opening you would expect from Jesus.  They did not break into tears. They did not run to him and fall at his feet. They did not say, “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” They were startled and terrified.  They could not process what they were seeing.  He was supposed to be dead. 

Jesus’ first reaction to their stunned silence was to ask why they were frightened. He knew why they were frightened, but he still had to ask.  The next thing he did was a little strange.  He showed them his hands and feet.  Now most of us do not identify people by their hands and feet.  If we are trying to recognize someone, we look at their face.  Or we can identify someone by their voice…but the hands and the feet.  That’s just odd. 

Of course we have all seen portrayals of the crucified Jesus. His hands and feet were nailed to the cross.  We know that.  Most likely his disciples would have known that  as well.  But why would Jesus want to draw their attention to his wounds?  He could have turned water into wine.  He could have transfigured before them as he had before.  He could have made them believe.  There were so many things he could have done that would have been a lot more divine and godly.  But no…he showed them his wounded hands and feet. 

The crazy thing is that was fairly effective…mostly effective.  They reacted with joy and disbelief.  They were joyful because they really recognized him.  They knew this was not some mirage. This was the man they had lived with…the man who was tortured and killed, the man they loved.  Yet despite this recognition, they could not quite believe because it was too much…too much to take in at once. 

Jesus understood this and so he did another odd and undivine thing—he asked them for some food.  “Have you anything here to eat?”  This line amuses me every time I read it because I picture Jesus looking around at these bewildered men trying to make them understand the unfathomable.  I imagine ideas running through his head…what can he do to make them believe and his solution is to ask for some food. Is that the best he can do??

There are theories about why Jesus chose this moment to eat some fish.  Most assume it was so he could show them that he was flesh and blood—not a ghost.  Yet I wonder if it was something less cerebral.  Perhaps he really was hungry or maybe he was just doing that thing you do when you get together with friends, you share a meal together. He let them take care of him---take care of one of humanity’s most basic needs (food) which is amazing given that the disciples had done such a horrible job of caring for him when he needed them the most.

Ironically, it was Jesus’s humanity and vulnerability that helped his disciples believe and see him, finally see him for who he was, not just any god, but the God. The God who suffered like all humans suffered, suffered even more than most suffer, the God who still carried the wounds of that suffering, the God who forgave them despite the fact that they had abandoned him, the God who loved them to the end, the God who died and came back from the dead just to see them again.

I can be fairly certain of how you would react when I say, “Alleluia, Christ is risen!”  We will be saying that every Sunday during the Easter season.  I hope that during this season, you will consider how you would react if Jesus actually came to your home and said, “Peace be with you.”  Would you know it was him?  Would you want to see his hands and feet or would you want to see him perform a miracle? Would you want to fix him dinner, or would you want some evidence that this really was the risen Christ? 

I believe that the way Jesus interacted with his disciples is exactly how he wishes to interact with all of us today.  He wants to be real.  He doesn’t just want to show us his scars.  He wants to see ours.  He wants to know our joy and our pain.  He wants to be part of our everyday activities, like eating and spending time with friends and family.  I love our liturgy--the beauty and majesty.  Our liturgy is a wonderful way to worship God and God wants to be worshipped.  God wants this time with us when we are entirely devoted to him.  But God also wants to see us when we aren’t wearing our robes and Sunday best.  God wants every part of us.

Why does it matter that Jesus was resurrected? He was resurrected to prove that death is not the end--that while he was the first one to be resurrected, he will not be the last.  Living the reality of the resurrection does not mean that we forget the crucifixion.  Our faith is one that embodies the whole human experience.  It is anxiety and peace.  It is pain and joy.  It is death and resurrection. It is real. It matters that Jesus was resurrected because it gives us hope that we will see the risen Christ and when we see him he will open our eyes to all the mysteries of life and faith.  Then there will be peace, real peace and it will be real.

Just Beginning: April 1, 2018

Year B, Easter                                                          
Mark 16:1-8                                                             
            

            I like happy endings.  If I learn that a book doesn’t have a happy ending, I don’t read it.  If I accidently read a book that has a bad ending, I feel betrayed and angry.  I want a neat and tidy ending.  I know that life is not like that.  Our problems aren’t resolved in 250 pages.  Sometimes they are never resolved, which is why I need it in my books.  Therefore, I have always found it strange that I am so fond of the ending of the Gospel of Mark.  The last line is: “So they went out and fled from the tomb for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.”  If you read this in Greek, which was the language in which it was originally written, the last sentence is incomplete.  Mark didn’t even finish the sentence.  It’s like his pen ran out of ink or he decided he needed a snack and just forgot to add the conclusion.  It’s that abrupt.

            In the other three Gospels, Jesus appeared in bodily form to the disciples and the women who came to the tomb.  In the Gospels of Luke and John, Jesus shared a meal with the disciples.  He even did a little fishing.  In Mark, we end with an empty tomb and a strange man telling the women that Jesus had been raised and was going to meet them in Galilee.  But no one actually saw the risen Christ. If that was not bad enough, the last line said the women ran away and said nothing for they were afraid—which means that they never told the disciples.  They never shared the good news. 

            For centuries, people have struggled with the ending of Mark.  In the earliest translations, there is no evidence of verses that come after verse 8 (which is where we ended today).  However, within less than 100 years of the writing of Mark, there is evidence that additional verses were added. The theory is that people were uncomfortable with the ending because there was no real conclusion. It essentially ended on what we would now refer to as a cliff hanger.  If it was a TV show, you would hear a voiceover that said, “Did the women ever tell anyone about the tomb?  Did Jesus show himself?  Was he really resurrected? Find out next week on the Jesus Story!”  Yet there was no next week.  The story just ended. 

            Because that was such an unsatisfactory ending, someone added a few verses. That is why if you look at most Bibles, there will be an option for a shorter ending and a longer ending. There is an additional 12 verses that uses text from the other Gospels to fill in the gaps and show Jesus Christ risen and interacting with his disciples.  What this proves is that even the earliest Christians were desperate for a good ending—which is completely understandable.  The early Christians were building a movement. They needed something that they could lift up, a narrative that would provide hope for those Christians who were being persecuted.  An empty tomb and people running away scared isn’t exactly a rallying cry. 

            But what if we look at it a different way?  Instead of it being an unsatisfactory ending, what if it is an opportunity for a new beginning?  To try to put an ending on this story…to edit the story so that it could be more palatable, is a mistake. Because this is not our ending to control. We don’t get to decide how this part of the story is told.  What we do have, is an opportunity to be a part of the new beginning.

            One of the awesome aspects of the Gospel of Mark is that it is a Gospel of expectation, of what is to come.  That is what our church is about. When we look at the church calendar, we see many beginnings.  Advent, which is the season before Christmas, is the beginning of the church year.  It is a season of expectation for the birth of Christ.  Lent is also an opportunity for new beginning.  We talk about the need to repent.  Repentance is not just saying “I am sorry” and moving on, it’s about a complete change of orientation.  It’s the act of turning around and starting over.  Then we have Easter, where Jesus defeats death and comes back to life, for a new beginning.  After Easter we enter the season of Pentecost which marks the coming of the Holy Spirit and the beginning of the church.  Every season of the church offers a chance for a new beginning. 

            Some people criticize the church as being stuck in the past or being overly concerned about guilt and judgment.  That could not be further from the truth.  Yes, we honor the past and hopefully we learn from the past.  We also admit our guilt in our confession every Sunday.  But those things are only part of the story.  If the story of our faith ended with guilt and condemnation, that would make for a horrible ending.  But it doesn’t, because with every season and every Sunday, we have an opportunity to start over.  Our faith is a faith marked by new beginnings.

            When the women saw the empty tomb, they were understandably confused.  There was an angelic visitor there who told them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He has been raised; he is not here…But go, tell the disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.”  It’s odd that he mentioned Peter by name.  The angel told the women to go tell the disciples.  Peter was one of the disciples.  Why did he have to be specifically named? 

            One theory is that he was mentioning Peter because there was a very real chance that Peter felt bad about the fact that he had denied being a disciple of Jesus.  Peter might have thought that he had ended his relationship with Jesus because of his denial.  Perhaps he thought that if Jesus really was back from the dead, he did not want to see the man who had denied him.  That was what I would have thought if I was Peter.  That is why the angel specifically mentioned Peter. Jesus had not just risen for a select few…a select few who deserved to see him again.  He rose for everyone.  This was a new day and a new beginning. 

            Maybe you are here today for the first time in awhile and feel a little uncomfortable about that. Guess what? We are all starting over, so you are not alone.  It is never too late to come back to faith or rekindle your relationship with God and the community of faith.    Jesus rose for you.  He lived, died and was resurrected for every person here, even those who do not deserve it, which is everyone by the way.  No one deserves God’s unconditional love, but he gives it anyways.

            As I said at the beginning, I like the way Mark ends.  However, I am not sure I would have if I was hearing it told in the first century and if I had not heard the other Gospels.  I would have liked some certainty and clarity.  While it might not be the ending we want, it’s the ending we all need.  Because it forces us to enter into the story, be part of the ongoing story of Jesus Christ.  We aren’t just reading the story, we are participating in it.

          We have an opportunity to live in the promise Mark made so long ago---the promise that we will meet the risen Christ.  Remember, the angel said that Jesus was going ahead of them…ahead.  That is why we continue to move forward and sometimes start over.  We do that so we too can meet the risen Christ.

Maundy Thursday: March 29, 2018

John 13:1-17, 31b-35                                               

            For many years the pope of the Roman Catholic Church has been washing feet on Maundy Thursday. Before 2013, the mass was held in St Peter's basilica or the basilica of St John.  However, in 2013 a recently consecrated Pope Francis washed the feet of 12 teenagers in a juvenile prison. Previous popes typically washed the feet of clergy.  Since Pope Francis was elected, he has washed feet in prisons, a center for asylum seekers, and a home for the elderly and disabled.  This year, he will once again wash the feet of 12 men in a maximum security prison. 

            Pope Francis has been determined to wash the feet of people of different faiths, genders, and ethnicities. In these 5 years, he has washed the feet of convicted felons, women (which was previously unheard of), Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Evangelicals, Muslims, a Buddhist and a Hindu person. For the pope, the symbolic act of foot washing is not merely an act of humility, it is an act of love and bringing people together. 

            If you look at the verses we read for the Gospel reading, you will see that there is a huge part that is skipped over.  We go from verse 17 to verse 31. We go from Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and telling them to do likewise to the verses about Jesus being glorified and then the love commandment, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  It’s a sweet gesture, washing the feet of his 12 disciples, his inner circle.  It was gesture of humility and love.  No one likes to wash feet, so it is nice that he would do this for his friends.  If we did not read verses 17 to 31, we could leave it at that, a nice gesture by Jesus for his friends.

            However, if you read those middle verses, this symbolic act becomes much more radical.  In these verses Jesus told the disciples that one of them will betray him.  He told them by saying, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread…” It was Judas, the man whose feet he had just washed, the man with whom he had shared a meal. 

            When Jesus confronted Judas, Judas left to accept the bribe and betray his friend.  It was only after that confrontation when Jesus told his disciples, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  Right after that command, he told Peter that he would deny him.  These are the bookends of this commandment to love one another, one friend who will betray him and one who will deny him. 

            What Jesus was showing was that despite what these 2 men would do…Jesus would still love them.  Even knowing what would happen—that one would betray, one deny and the rest abandon him—he still washed their feet and told them he loved them. That is what makes this more than a sweet and sentimental gesture.  This is not just about how we treat our friends and family.  It is about how we treat the people who have hurt and betrayed us. 

            In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot 4 times.  The man was arrested and the pope not only forgave him, he visited him in prison. He then advocated for his release many years later. The would-be assassin left prison in 2010 and made news when he visited the grave of the late pope and left flowers.   That is an extreme example of loving those who have hurt us, but it’s a pretty good example. 

            While most of us have not been shot or turned in to the police for crimes we did not commit, we all know what it is to be betrayed or abandoned.  We all know what it feels like when someone we love says one thing and acts in an entirely different way.  Imagine what it would feel like to wash their feet, or maybe just look them in the eye and smile. 

            At another church I served, I had someone who yelled at me after the service.  He really yelled and did it in front of other people.  I knew it had nothing to do with me. It was something else going on in his life, but it hurt me and made me angry.  The next week he came up for communion and I thought “please don’t let him be on my side of the rail”---but he was of course because God likes to challenge us.  I would like to tell you that I gave him communion and my hurt and angry feelings just went away.  But they didn’t.  I was still mad.  But I smiled and I kept smiling.  It took a couple weeks, maybe even more, but eventually those smiles became genuine and I got over it. 

            That’s the thing about symbolic gestures, they don’t always represent exactly what is going on inside of us, but they do represent what we hope will happen, what we hope we will become.  If we continue to try, eventually the symbolic gesture becomes more than a gesture. It becomes real.  Jesus was upset with Judas. He called him out in front of the disciples.  He did the same thing with Peter. But he still shared the meal. He still washed their feet. 

             

            We do more than foot washing at this service.  As we do every Sunday, we read the confession together.  Typically before launching into the confession, I like to give a moment for everyone to silently consider the sins they have committed. Tonight I will give us all a little longer to consider what sins are keeping us from loving people.  Then we will share communion together. We will crowd around the altar in this rather tight space and we will accept the gift that God has given us, the same gift that he gave his disciples, a love that knows no boundaries, a love that is meant to unite instead of divide.  

            After that, the altar and this whole chancel area will be stripped.  It will be laid bare, which is what we are all trying to do before God.  Then finally when you leave, I encourage you to drop a coin in one of the buckets.  The coin represents a way we have betrayed, denied or abandoned God.  When we drop the coin, we leave that sin behind and we journey toward Easter with the knowledge that we have moved this much closer to loving others as God loves each one of us.

You Know God: March 18, 2018

Year B, Lent 5                                                
Jeremiah 31:31-36                                                     

            Recently, there have been a lot of studies about whether humans are predisposed to believe in some kind of higher power. Some of these studies use information based on brain scans.  Other studies research the beliefs of children or other controlled groups.  What many of these studies have concluded is that we are hard wired to believe in something bigger than ourselves.  What people have noted is that every culture, no matter how isolated it may be, develops some kind of religion that they adhere to. 

Many people will hear this theory and use it as a critique of religious beliefs.  Their contention is that we believe because we need to believe, not necessarily because it’s true.  Yet when I consider how and why we are hardwired to believe, I think it provides proof of the existence of God.  We are created to believe.  It’s our default setting. God created us this way so we could have a relationship with him, so that not believing would be against our very nature. 

            Jeremiah is known as “the weeping prophet” as so much of this book is kind of depressing.  He spends the majority of the first 30 chapters warning the Hebrew people that they need to repent or be punished. Their punishment will come in the form of a mass deportation.  Babylon will invade and the majority of the Hebrew people will be sent into exile. Since we know that the people were exiled, it would appear that they did not heed the warnings of Jeremiah, which was pretty much the norm at this time and our time as well. 

Beginning with chapter 30, we have a brief reprieve from the weeping and reprimanding.  In these few chapters, Jeremiah tells the people that the days are coming when the Lord will make a new covenant and he will forgive their sins—not only forgive them, he will forget their sins.  That is an important distinction because it means that God is wiping the slate clean.  There will be no memories of wrong doing. I have always wished I could forget the things I have done wrong or wrongs that have been done to me. Alas…as humans, we can’t force ourselves to forget things.  God can’t force us to forget things.  God can choose to forget our sins, which is an incredible gift.  That is what God has given to his people.

He also gave them something else, a new way to experience God’s law. Jeremiah wrote that when this new day arrived the law of the Lord would not be written on stone tablets, it would be written on their hearts.  It would be seared into their very being.  While God can choose to forget the sins of his people, the people will never be able to forget the law of the Lord.

            Now when we think of law, it normally does not give us warm and fuzzy feelings.  We perceive law as something that is imposed upon us. We follow laws because we have to and we will get punished if we do not. At the time Jeremiah was writing, some people perceived God’s law like this.  Many of us still do. But that was never God’s intention (at least not that I know of). 

Thus when Jeremiah says that the Lord will establish a new covenant, it’s not new in regards to the content.  It’s not like God said, “Forget those 10 pesky commandments and that whole love God and your neighbor thing—we are trying something new.”  No.  The laws are essentially the same, but God was asking that people obey the laws not out of fear, but out of love for God.   That is a huge transition to make.  God knew that, which is why he said: “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.”  God was telling them and God is telling us that his love and his laws are now inscribed on our hearts.  It is not some outside force coming and telling us how to act and what to believe, it is part of who we are.  It is a good part of who we are.   

I am not a scientist, so take this for what it is worth.  Here’s my theory: what if that predisposition to believing in God is connected to this idea of God’s laws inscribed on our hearts?  God knows that humans are a little weak at times and fickle a lot of the time.  Thus when we were created, he inscribed his law on our hearts so that even those who know nothing of Christ or any organized religion walk through life with this feeling, this desire for more meaning in their life.

We see it all the time.  I heard someone describe Soulcycle as their religion.  If you do not know what it is, it’s a trendy exercise class where everyone gets in a dark room and rides on a stationary bike. There is loud music and someone screaming at you to try harder, to be better, to not give up.  It’s called Soulcycle, which is not exactly subtle.  It is clear what they are trying to accomplish. I go to a yoga class every week where the instructor gives us lessons on how to find meaning in our lives.  She quotes all kinds of gurus and the people in the class love it….because that might be the only time in the week when they find a deeper connection and meaning. 

We are hardwired to believe.  God created us to want to believe.  If we were to visualize the law written on our heart, it wouldn’t be a long list of rules.  It would say something like, “Love the Lord, your God with all your heart, mind and soul and love your neighbor as yourselves.”  God has written that law on our hearts.  We know God.  Deep down in each one of us, we know God.  However, that does not mean we are off the hook.  I know that eating a bunch of chocolate is bad for me. But that knowledge only helps if I actually resist the chocolate.  We know God.  That is the gift that God has given us all.  The gift that we give to God, is to act in a way that proves that we know God. 

One commentator wrote that “We talk about God like God is not in the room.”  As someone who spends a lot of time talking about God, that really got my attention.  It made me wonder if I would speak differently if I sensed God in the room. I feel pretty confident that I would act differently if I sensed his presence in a tangible way.  We talk about what it is to know God.  We talk about God’s presence with us.  But I worry that we have made God too abstract.  God’s intention was never to be part of a belief system. God’s intention has always been to be part of who we are.  He has written his law of love on our hearts.  He’s here, within each one of us.  

Our world is a scary place right now. Perhaps it always has been. But I find hope in the knowledge that God has carved out a spot in every human on this planet.  It is up to us as Christians not only to act in a way that reflects that law inscribed in our hearts, but be witnesses to God’s presence in other people, in every person.  We know God.  That is the gift that God has given us all.  The gift that we give to God, is to act in a way that reflects that knowledge.

Above quote from Karoline Lewis  http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5114

The Challenge Facing the Church: Feb. 25, 2018

Year B, Lent 2                                                    
Mark 8:31-38                                                

            I hear a lot about the church of the 1950’s and 60’s. The church was full and everyone attended every Sunday.  Church mattered.  Businesses were closed.  Nothing else was happening on Sundays.  You came to church because that was the place to be.  If you were a community leader, a government official, a business owner, anyone in leadership, you went to church. If you did not, you were judged accordingly.  Church attendance hit an unprecedented high in the 1950’s.  Some people have called that period the 3^rd Great Awakening. 

Since then church membership has been on a steady decline.  Steady might not be the right word---it was on a gradual decline and has plummeted in the last 20 years. Sometimes, I wish that I had been born decades earlier and could have served in a church that prospered with little effort.  There was no need for evangelism or marketing.  You opened the door and people came in (of course, I would not have been able to be ordained as they did not start ordaining women until the end of the 1970s—but that’s not the point.)  It seems odd to be nostalgic for a time I did not live in; yet I find myself longing for that experience of the 1950’s church. 

            A lot of people who remember the church of the 1950s and 1960s assume that it was always like that. The reality is that the church and the Christian faith have gone through many periods of growth and decline.  After both the American Revolution and the Civil War, the Episcopal Church was near collapse.  Even St. John’s barely survived those difficult times.   While there have been tumultuous times in the last 300 years, it was probably the first 300 years of the Christian Church that were the most challenging.  Being a Christian was a dangerous thing to be as Christians were openly persecuted. They were tortured or killed for admitting their faith. 

            It should not come as a surprise that the Christian faith struggled to gain a foothold for several centuries. Our God died on a cross.  He was killed by the people who were in power. Who wants to join a faith community that worships the losing side, the guy who was killed?  Today, the cross is not shameful, nor is a crucified Messiah.  Now the cross is a symbol of our faith, a faith that has survived and thrived for over 2000 years.  However, for the first 200 years of the church the cross was not a welcome symbol.  There was shame associated with that kind of death. Jesus was not the only person crucified.  Criminals were crucified by the thousands in that time. 

            If it was difficult to accept a crucified Messiah after his death and resurrection, imagine what it must have been for the disciples to hear Jesus talk about his impending death.  The disciples had come to know Jesus in a specific way.  They had seen all the miracles he performed, the people he had healed, the huge crowds who had followed him. They had seen him preach to masses and beat even the greatest theologians and church leaders in arguments. While not all agreed with him, all recognized his power and authority. 

Shortly before our reading for today, Jesus asked the disciples who people thought he was.  The disciples answered that some thought that he was one of the prophets, or John the Baptizer come back to life, or even Elijah, the great Hebrew prophet who had died and was expected to return right before the arrival of the Messiah.  So far, no one was right. Then he asked who they thought he was.  They knew him best.  If anyone knew, they should know. Peter spoke up and said, “You are the Messiah.” Finally, they were getting it.  These disciples finally saw Jesus for who he truly was. 

            Immediately after this revelation, Jesus started sharing that he would have to undergo great suffering, be rejected, be killed and then rise again.  Perhaps he thought that they were ready to hear this now that they understood who he was.  But how could knowing he was the Messiah possibly prepare them for this?  Messiahs are not rejected by humans and they certainly don’t suffer.  They definitely don’t get killed. It’s madness. Peter rebuked him.  We don’t know exactly what he said when he rebuked him, but it was probably something like, “Don’t talk like that!  Chin up.  You are the Messiah. You are not going to suffer and die.”  Peter probably thought he was being supportive.

            Jesus did not like what Peter had to say because he called him Satan and told him to get behind him. He then said, “For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”  If I had been Peter, this would have confused me a little.  If anyone was focusing on human things, it was Jesus.  Humans are rejected.  Humans suffer.  Humans are killed. Messiahs shouldn’t experience those human things.  It would seem that Jesus had some funny ideas on what it was to be a Messiah.

Then Jesus made it worse because he told the disciples and the assembled crowd that they too would have to suffer if they wanted to be his followers. Not only will Jesus have to carry the cross, but all his followers will have to take up their cross.  I bet Jesus did not gain any followers that day.  The disciples stuck around, partially because they were convinced he wasn’t serious about this whole suffering thing. He had to explain it to them two more times and they acted confused each time, as if this was the first time they were hearing it.

            Who can blame them?  Not only did it not make sense, it was an incredibly difficult teaching. The cross was a form of torture.  None of these men had easy lives. They were Jews living under Roman occupation.  While Jesus was popular with many, the religious authorities did not like him. The disciples knew this and this must have made them a little anxious.  They knew what it was to suffer.  But death on a cross? Where is the victory?  Where is the triumph?

            As people who know what it is to celebrate Easter, we know what the victory is.  We know that Jesus conquered death.  But we also know that most of the disciples were killed eventually, some is rather horrific ways. There are still people being killed today just for being Christians.  And on a much less violent note, we in the Episcopal Church know what it is to be part of a church that is not considered successful, not in human terms. 

            I entered seminary in 2001. In those first 5 years of the millennium, church attendance and membership moved from a gradual decline to a nosedive.  When I decided to pursue ordination in 2004, someone asked me, “Why would you want to be ordained when the church is dying? It’s a sinking ship.”  At the time, I thought that was ridiculous.  The church would turn around.  This was just a blip. But it has not turned around (and I am hoping this great decline has no direct correlation with the fact that I was ordained near the beginning of it!)

Before we all get too depressed, I would like to suggest something. Instead of worrying about the decline and bemoaning the loss of the status of the church, perhaps we can look at it from another perspective. Like the disciples, Jesus asks us not merely to look at the human things, but the divine as well.  It is human to suffer and die.  We can all agree on that. According to Jesus, it is divine to suffer and die.  But it is also divine to rise again. 

It is not easy to be the church in today’s world.  We have to work harder and to some extent we have to suffer a little as well.  However, if we believe this is God’s church, then suffering and death is only part of the story.  The final part is resurrection.  It is new life.  We assume that if the church is suffering it’s because something is wrong.  Perhaps we can see it as part of what it is to be a disciple; and instead of looking at it as suffering, we could look at it as living into a challenge. That is not just true for the church but for every individual life.  Everyone faces challenges in life---some more than others.  We don’t give up when we face challenges, we find ways to rise again.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus told Peter, “Now I say to you that you are Peter (which means 'rock'), and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it.”  Despite Peter’s faults, Jesus called him the rock. The church was built on a flawed human and that gives me hope, because Jesus knew he was flawed and he still chose him to be the rock.  Even though the church was built on a flawed human, this church, our church was built by Jesus.  The powers of hell will not conquer it.

Confession of a Hypocrite: Ash Wednesday

Year B, Ash Wednesday     
Matthew 6                                                                                           February 14, 2018

 

            One of the biggest criticisms of Christians is that we are hypocrites.  We say one thing and we do another.  We act one way in church and then an entirely different way when we are out of church.  We claim to love everyone, but we don’t treat everyone the same way.  These are just some of the accusations that I have heard lobbed at Christians as a whole.  I am always tempted to defend Christians or claim that we Episcopalians are different, but I know that won’t help.  That’s what hypocrites do…deny their hypocrisy.

            In the Gospel for today, Jesus tells us how not to be like the hypocrites.  There were three things that Jews were expected to do: give alms to the poor, pray, and fast.  The problem wasn’t that people were not doing those things.  They were, but some were doing them for the wrong reasons.  When they gave alms, they would make sure that everyone knew they were giving money to the poor.  Giving lots of money provided a certain status because not only did it mean that you had a lot of money to give, but that you were exceptionally good and generous.  When people prayed, they would not only do it in a public place, but they would make their prayers as long as possible, so as to appear more pious.  Finally, while the Jews only have one day (the Day of Atonement) where fasting is necessary, many of the Pharisee and scribes fasted on Mondays and Thursdays.  They flaunted their piety by parading around in public looking dismal and hungry.  Sometimes they would even whiten their face to make themselves look more pale and underfed.  They wanted everyone to know that they were the holy ones, they were the ones who were closest to God.  While these actions should have made them closer to God, they were too focused on impressing their peers.

As much as I may want to judge these Pharisees and pretend that I am not at all like them, I am not sure I can.  How many of us wait to make sure the cashier or waiter is looking before putting money in the tip jar? How many of us get annoyed when we do not get a thank you note after giving a gift or making a donation?  I am always mortified when I am in church or some assembly where they are taking an offering and I realize I have no cash to give, nor do I have a checkbook.  I am not mortified because I cannot give to the cause or the charity.  I am mortified because I am worried about what people around me will think.  Sometimes I will even be extra thorough as I search through my purse so the person next to me will understand my predicament.  I understand what it is to want people to know that you are doing good.   

Ash Wednesday is a little confusing.  We read a Gospel reading that specifically says that we should not try to look dismal like the people who disfigure their face when they are fasting. Do you know one of the ways they disfigured their face?  They put ash on their face.  After we proclaim these words of Jesus about not disfiguring our face, we put ash on everyone’s face.  While it’s not a written rule, the unspoken rule is that you leave the ash on your forehead the rest of the day. It’s quite a juxtaposition.            

Before we get too critical of the practice of putting ash on our heads, it’s important to know that there is biblical precedent.  In the Old Testament, when people were repenting before God, one way to prove their humility was to put ash on their face.  Most times this pleased God.  This was seen as an appropriate gesture.

 It also reminds us of our mortality.  After Adam and Eve disobeyed God, God told them their punishment.  He listed many things and ended with, “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  By putting ash on our face, we are reminded that we were created from the earth, and one day we will return to the earth.  It kind of puts things in perspective.

Yet I think there is something else going on.  It’s about more than repentance or our mortality.  It’s about being honest about who we are.   As Christians, we occasionally are hypocritical.  It’s almost impossible not to be.  We are trying to follow the teachings of Jesus, a man who was perfect.  We know we should be emulating him, but we don’t always act like Jesus.  There is a lot of time we don’t act like Jesus.  We aren’t perfect, but we still call ourselves Christian. 

One of my favorite quotes about church is that “we are not a museum for the saints, we are a hospital for sinners.”  We do not come to church because we are perfect Christians. We come to church because we know that we need help being Christian and that hearing God’s word and participating in the sacraments helps remind us of what it is to be a Christian.  We might mess up as soon as we walk out, but it’s usually unintentional.  By walking out of this church with ash on our foreheads, we are saying, “Yup, sometimes I am a hypocrite---but I am trying really hard not to be.”

The ashes that we put on our face expose the world to who we truly are.  It’s the one time when we can freely admit that we are sinners and are in need of repentance.  Everyone is covered with the same ash.  We all share the same desolation, in that we are all sinners.  If you feel like you always have to pretend that you are happier, smarter, more pious than you are…this is your day to expose the real you.  So maybe this is hypocritical. But you know what, at least we can admit that.  That is what Lent is about—a time to reflect on who we are and find ways to be closer to God.

 

Idea of admitting our own hypocrisy was from a sermon by Dr. Elizabeth Huwiler given on February 9, 2005 at Lutheran  Theological Seminary Chapel.
http://www.ltsp.edu/reflections/2004-2005/050209huwiler.html