When the Gospel Gets Risky: Nov 19, 2023

 Year A, Pentecost 25                                  Matthew 25:14-30                                                                                         

If you were so inclined, you could read 10 different commentaries about this gospel reading and discover 10 different theories about what this text means.  I am not going to pretend to have the definitive answer on what this should mean for you.  But here is what I keep coming back to.  Risk. This is a story about risk and what or who enables us to take risks. 

In our parable for today, we hear about a man who entrusted three slaves with an incredible amount of money. He gave one slave 5 talents, another 2 and another 1.  A talent was a unit of measure and one would have been worth about 20 years wages for an average day laborer.  That’s a significant amount of money to leave a servant or a slave, or really anyone for that matter.  It would seem that this man had a lot of confidence in these three slaves.  This man didn’t provide them much direction. He didn’t tell them what to do with the property or even how long he would be gone.  It just says that he entrusted his property to them. If it were me, I would have wanted a lot more information and direction.

The slave who received 5 talents traded with them and doubled his money.  The slave who was given 2 talents also doubled his money.  Not bad.  The 3^rd slave dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.  When the master returned, he rewarded the slaves who were able to double the money they were entrusted with and the third was punished for…for what? That’s what I am not clear on.  It would be easy to assume that the third slave was punished for not making money, but given that this was Jesus talking, it’s has to be more than that. 

In order to figure out why he was being punished, I kept looking at what the master said to the third slave before he cast him into outer darkness.  However, the answer might be more easily discovered not in the reprimand of the third slave but in the accolade for the first two slaves.  To the first two the master said, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” They were not commended for the money that they made.  They were commended for being trustworthy in what they were given. They had taken what they were given and they had used those things well.

The other clue is in how the 3^rd slave addressed the master. The others met the master by simply saying, “Master, you handed over to me five talents, but I have made 5 more talents.”  The 3^rd slave told the man on his return, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.”

            He was afraid of his master.  He perceived him as a harsh man with questionable business practices.   But it would appear from the way the two others addressed the master (and maybe even by the way that they acted in his absence) that they didn’t fear the master.  If they had feared him, they probably would have not had the confidence to take the risks that they did.

Was the master as bad as the slave described him?  It would seem that the master affirmed what the 3^rd slave said, but not necessarily.  The master did not say, “You are right, I am all of those things you said I am.”  No he said, “You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter?” It was a question, almost a challenge.   He was challenging the way the slave perceived him. You see, I don’t think the issue was his trust of the slave, as much as the slave’s trust of the master.

The slave was anticipating a harsh and unfair man, and that was what he got.  Because that was what he was anticipating…because that was the master he knew, he didn’t have freedom to actually use what the master gave him.  No, instead he buried it.  He had no desire to serve the master…he simply wanted to keep what had been given secure.  That provided not only security for the talent, but security for him.  His main priority was protecting himself.

            I confess I struggled with the language of slave and master.  But remember, parables were meant to be understood by the people who were hearing them at the time. This would have been familiar language to people in the first century.  Jesus was constantly trying to teach people another way of seeing things.  At the time, many people perceived God as a harsh master who punished without good reason.  But Jesus wanted people to know that God wanted more out of God’s relationship with humanity.  Yes, there is judgment.  The text right after this is the story of God judging those who did not care for the poor and the suffering. 

However, God’s relationship with humanity is more than judgement and punishment.  It’s a relationship that involves trust in God and in ourselves.  God has given us each gifts.  We can look at it more broadly and consider that God has given us the gift of life or love.  Or we can look at it as the unique gifts that we each carry.  I am not sure it matters. The point is that these gifts are meant to be used---sometimes…in ways that challenge us and others.

I am a risk adverse person. I hate taking risks. I definitely don’t do it as much as I should.  If we never take risks, then we are saying that we have no confidence in God’s call to us.  It’s saying that we don’t believe that we can actually be God’s hands and feet on this earth.  It’s saying that we care more about how other people perceive us, then how God judges us.  I am definitely guilty of that. 

You know when I was first working on this sermon, the thing that kept nagging at me was not why this 3^rd slave got punished, but I really wanted to know, what would have happened if he had trusted his master and then lost the money.  That is the question that haunted me.  Do you know why that question was bothering me? Because I just really wanted an excuse not to take a risk. I kept thinking, well of course these other two were rewarded, because they succeeded. And this other was reprimanded because he refused to risk.  But what about the one who took the risk and failed.  What happens to them?  Where are they in this story?

They fail. And then they try again.  I wonder how long the master was gone. I wonder how much money the slaves lost before they gained anything?  Ultimately this is a story about the 2^nd coming of Jesus Christ-- when Jesus comes back.  This isn’t a few months we are talking about.  This is a lifetime.  We have a lifetime of opportunities to use the gifts that God has given us, to take risks, to fail, to fail again and maybe eventually to get it right. The only real failure is when we stop trying.  I am talking about us as individuals, but also as a church. If we aren’t taking risks.  If we aren’t failing a little.  We aren’t living the Gospel.

 

 

What God Thinks of Our Worship: Nov. 12 2023

 Year A, Pentecost 24                             Amos 5:18-24                                                                                       

God is awfully grouchy today…at least in our Old Testament reading. None of the readings are warm and fuzzy, but today I want to talk about the most grouchy of them all, Amos.  Not much is known of the prophet Amos.  He lived about 700 years before the birth of Jesus and seemed intent on calling out the Hebrew people on hypocrisy and exploitation of the poor.  He was preaching in a period of relative calm which might have led people to be a little more complacent than they should have been. Apparently this period of calm enabled some people to do quite well for themselves….which created more space in the chasm between the very poor and the very rich

            He starts by talking about the day of the Lord.  By itself, “the day of the Lord” can mean a lot of different things.  Here, it probably means the final judgment.  Amos talked a lot about judgment which few Episcopalians like to hear.   Yet God’s role as a judge is all over the scriptures. Most people have a lot of negative associations about judgment.  I think if we were to drill down into our negative feelings about, we will find most of the negative associations come from people judging one another, often unfairly. That was and is not the kind of judging God does.  God’s judgment is fair and merciful.

Amos said that day of the Lord was not a time to be anticipating with joy.  It was a day of darkness.  Why? Because the people Amos was talking to were not following God’s commandments.  According to other parts of Book of Amos, the rights of the poor and marginalized were being trampled. There were human judges who were accepting bribes, which meant the ones who were judged harshly were not those who were the bad operators but those who had no resources.  It would seem that the people who were participating and enabling this corrupt system were supposed to be the followers of the one true God.  They should have known better.  Amos wasn’t the first prophet to tell them they had veered way off course. But they had gotten far too comfortable.

            Then Amos provided a list of the things God detests--their festivals, their solemn assemblies, their animal sacrifices, their feasts, and even their music.  Everything, God was hating every form of worship that they were providing.  Now, I get it that God was angry, but why take it out on worship? It’s not like they were worshipping a golden calf or erecting altars to false gods. This was all the kind of worship that God had asked for.  These were traditions they had been following for years.   It would be like God coming down and saying: I hate Christmas and Easter. I detest your candles and your bells. I really loathe those little hosts you call bread.  And the preaching…please just stop.  I think a few of us would take that personally.  Of all the things to complain about, why would God complain about worship?

            The problem wasn’t the worship itself.  I am sure God didn’t have a problem with harp music.  It seemed that participating in worship and seeking holy places had become and end unto itself.  Earlier is the chapter God said, “Seek me and live, but do not seek Bethel, and do not cross Gilgal or cross over to Beer-sheba.”  It had become too much about the place and the presentation and not enough about just being in God’s presence.  People were isolating their worship to a certain time and place, rather than a state of being.  

Amos was talking to the Hebrew people, but I am sure that Christians have been accused of the same thing.  We occasionally use Sunday worship as a box to check off rather than a place to encounter the holy.  And we’ve seen politicians over the years use their church attendance as proof that they are good and moral, even when their behavior is anything but Christian.  And most of us, have our moments of hypocrisy.  It’s important to acknowledge that. Because if we can acknowledge that and be honest about our own failures, then we can move past them and even improve.  Some people have told me that they are uncomfortable in worship because they are not sure how much they believe and isn’t that hypocrisy? No.  Hypocrisy is when we use worship as a cover or an excuse rather than an attempt to connect with God’s presence. It’s not the same as doubt.

            So fine, God wants more than worship.  What is it?  The very last line is one of the most famous verses of the Bible because it was often quoted by Martin Luther King.  “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.”  I have heard that so often and you know, I have never really thought about what it means.  Why the analogy to water?  Consider the symbol we use for justice in America.  It’s a blindfolded woman holding a set of balances.  It is supposed to indicate impartiality and fairness.  It’s a static symbol.  But the image that Amos depicts is a powerful and cleansing stream.[1]  Water brings life. It also cleanses us. It’s chaotic at times, but when channeled it can do so much good.  God didn’t want justice to be confined to places like courts that administer justice.  God wants us all to be conduits for this life giving water. 

            What about righteousness? That is part of this too.  It’s another word we don’t like because we associate it with self-righteousness.  In the Bible righteousness is more about the relationship between the person and God, or the person and others.  It’s right relationship.  And that makes sense, we can’t be conduits of God’s mercy, love and justice if we aren’t in right relationship with one another, and with ourselves.

            That brings me back to worship.  It’s true that worship should not be the end goal.  We can’t just build and maintain lovely buildings and let God worry about the rest.  Worship is an opportunity to build ourselves up, to be fed and nourished with all we need to face what the world is throwing at us.  I feel like so much of what happens in the world sucks us dry.  It leaves us withered and exhausted.  Yet when I hear the bells, the organ, your beautiful singing.  When I drink from the cup and share the bread with you all, I feel like my parched soul is getting the water it needs.  How can we be conduits for justice and righteousness if we don’t have the water ourselves? The church is also the place where we form relationships, often with people who are different from us.  And maybe each one of us only has a few drops of water to spare….but together we can form that ever flowing stream that Amos prophesied thousands of years ago and the world desperately needs today.   

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[1] Interpretation Commentary: Hosea-Micah. Limburg. Pp. 105-109

Did Jesus have a platform?: October 22, 2023

 Year A, 20 Pentecost                                               Matthew 22:15-22                                                        

At some point in 9^th or 10^th grade, I became obsessed with politics.  I think it was the presidential election that got me interested and living in Northern Virginia, which was so close to Washington DC. I remained obsessed all the way through high school and majored in political science. My honors thesis senior year was on religion and politics. For a long time I have been fascinated by the intersection of religion and politics. One of the things that drew me to the Episcopal Church is the way that it’s governed.  The structure of the Episcopal Church was created at the same time as the structure of the United States government.  It was even created by the same people in the same city---this city. While they were creating that government, they worshipped at this church.        

Despite all of that, I have always been wary of getting too close to politics in the pulpit.  I try to preach the Bible and how it applies to our lives.  Sometimes there is overlap with politics, but I will never tell you how to vote or what I think of our current tax structure. Jesus was willing to confront the political and religious leadership of the day.  He had the right to do that as he had absolute moral authority.  He deserved that right. Well at least that is what we believe now. At the time, very few people thought he had that right.  And you know what’s kind of interesting…when a lot of people hear Jesus’ words today, they perceive them as political. Funny how that is…

This Gospel reading is a familiar one. People like to depict it as Jesus’ definitive stance on the separation of church and state—as if Jesus had a political platform and this was part of it.  “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”  The popular interpretation is that Jesus was telling people that there are two spheres with a clear wall in-between them--religion and the government. 

            There are a few problems with this interpretation.  First of all, we cannot compare the political environment of Jesus’ day to ours today…and thank goodness for that.  We live in a democracy, an imperfect democracy, but a democracy none the less.  Jesus was a Jew living in an occupied territory.  Israel was under the control of the Roman Empire. Because they were a people in an occupied territory, they had no rights.  They didn’t get a vote on who their leader was.  Even the Roman citizens didn’t get to choose their leader. They had an emperor—not an elected official. To complicate matters further, the Roman emperor considered himself a god and demanded the devotion of a god. There was no separation of religion and government.  That is impossible when the leader of the government portrays himself as a god. This put the Jews in a very difficult situation because the first commandment is to worship no other god but the one true God. 

            The Romans, while not known for their overall sensitivity, were fairly tolerant of other religions. They knew that the Jewish people would never worship another god.  The Jews would revolt before they did that.  The Romans were able to keep some modicum of peace by not forcing the Jews to worship the emperor.  But they did make them pay taxes…lots of taxes.  Those taxes were controversial because they actually supported the Roman occupation of Israel. The Jewish people were paying to be subjugated.  

In our story for today, there were two groups who came together to challenge Jesus.  We don’t know much about the Herodians.  There is only one other reference to them in the Bible.  People assume they were supporters of Herod who represented the Roman leadership. If that was the case, it was odd that they were teaming up with the Pharisees in trying to trap Jesus.  The Pharisees didn’t usually associate with Herod’s people. It just goes to show how threatening Jesus was to every power structure that existed at the time. 

            They thought that they had the perfect question to trap Jesus. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor?” If Jesus answered the question in a way that indicated that he supported the tax, he would alienate his Jewish followers.  If he said that they shouldn’t pay the tax, he could be accused of rebelling against Rome.  Instead of answering whether it was lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, he asked for the coin…the coin that would be used to pay this particular tax.  He did not have the coin.  The people asking the question did.  That is an important detail to note.

            They brought him a denarius.  It had a picture of the emperor with the inscription: “Tiberius Caesar, Son of the Divine Augustus Pontifex Maximus.”  Augustus was a smart man and a very effective emperor.  When he took power, he made himself not only political leader, but a religious one as well.  When he died, he was a declared a god, making his son, the son of god.  It was his son’s picture on the coin.  Even possessing this coin was considered idolatry in the Jewish faith.  It broke the first commandment. The Pharisees should not have even had the coin, but they did.  When Jesus asked for the coin, he was proving that he was not the pawn of the Roman government, they were…especially if they were allying themselves with the Herodians.  Even if they were not pawns, they were certainly complicit.  It was a brilliant way to point out their hypocrisy.

            Jesus’ answer to the question wasn’t clear.  I am not sure he meant it to be.  “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God, the things that are God’s.”  Jesus paid his taxes.  We know that from chapter 17 of Matthew.  We also know it because otherwise he would have been arrested a lot earlier.  It would have been impossible to remain in a land occupied by Rome and not pay taxes.  That doesn’t mean Jesus respected the emperor or agreed with the tax. He just knew that was what he had to do.  The more important part of this response from Jesus is the 2^nd half, the half people don’t quote nearly as often.  “Give  to God, the things that are God’s.” We know (in theory) that everything is God’s.  Everything in creation is God’s.  This isn’t Jesus demarcating a separation between God and the government.  Everything is God’s.  Caesar can have his coins, but that’s because God is allowing it.  God doesn’t want part of our love and commitment.  He wants all of it—not just the change in our pockets.

            One commentator summed it up like this, “Live with the emperor but live for God.”[1]  We live with and within the government.  We might ally ourselves with a political party or a certain leader, but that is not our identity---that is not the heart of who we are.  Our heart is with Jesus. We can never stop living for God, because then we lose ourselves. 

When we say that God doesn’t have a place in our government or that our faith and our politics can never touch, then I fear that we are missing the bigger picture.  God has no interest in a portion of our loyalty.  He wants all of it and he wants all of us.  Politics is occupying a large part of our attention these days.  Can you imagine if we spent as much time worshipping and serving God as we do complaining about politics or really anything for that matter? Try it. Just for a day.  Then maybe we will understand what it means to “Live with the emperor but live for God.”

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[1] http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?m=4377&post=5458

What it means to be chosen: Oct. 15, 2023

 Year A, Pentecost 20                                               Matthew 22:1-14                                                          

The news from Israel and Gaza has been devastating and overwhelming.  It has resonated with Americans given our close ties with the region over the years. We also feel a connection as Christians.  When we read the Gospels, we are reading about the same places that we see in the news.  We, along with two other faith traditions, consider this holy land. And while it is heart breaking and overwhelming, it is not new.  I often hear Christians remark that they are not particularly fond of the Old Testament because of the violence.  Yet we see violence in the stories that Jesus tells as well.  We don’t like the violence.  We can even try to ignore it, but it’s there---just like it’s in our world.

Last week we had violence in our parable, but it seemed a bit more one sided. If you recall, the violence came from the tenants of the land and the other side (the landowner) didn’t respond with violence.  In fact, the landowner responded in what seemed like a foolish way, he sent his son.  Today’s reading is different.  The king is throwing a wedding banquet for his son.  And he is not pleased with the negative responses to his summons.

In Jesus’s day, wedding invitations were a little different than they are today, especially royal wedding invitations. They would send the invitations out ahead of time without a specific time mentioned. Then when the day came, the servants of the king would go out to the invited guests and summon them when the feast was ready.  Yet in this instance, when the servants of the king went to the guests, they refused to come.   Not only did they refuse the invitation, some beat and killed some of the servants.  As you can imagine the king was upset. He was insulted as a person, but especially as a king. 

But unlike the owner of the vineyard last week who merely sent out more servants to be beaten and killed, the king in this story sent out troops to kill the murderers and burn the city.  This seems a little harsh, on both the part of the guests who beat the servants and the king who burned the city.  On the one hand, it’s understandable that the king would be upset.  But why burn the whole city? 

You know what scary part is, those kinds of reactions happen all the time.  Someone gets offended and they respond in a totally disproportionate manner.  Jesus liked to tell stories that people would identify with, and sadly, the audience would have identified with this volatile reaction.  Even today, while it seems harsh, it feels familiar.

But here is where Jesus throws in the surprise twist…the part that would seem completely strange to the people listening at that time.  After the intended guests turned him down, the king decided to invite everyone and anyone.  This is held up as an example of God’s hospitality and even a model of how we can welcome people today.  For those of us hearing this story now, those of us who have heard of the abundant love of God, the story starts to make sense.  Maybe, just maybe, this parable can be redeemed.

Alas no. Jesus throws in another twist.  Someone had the audacity to join the feast without the fancy wedding robe. The king questioned him and the when the guest remained speechless, the king threw him into the outer darkness where there would be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  That sounds like an overreaction. 

Didn’t this king just bring people in from off the street? How could he expect them to have a wedding garment at such short notice, especially if they didn’t have the means? This is when we have to remember, that parables were not events that actually happened.  They were stories Jesus used to explain a deeper truth and challenge the status quo.

This story isn’t about wedding attire.  If it was, then no one would have had the proper attire.  All were summoned at the last minute from off the street.  This man could not have been the only one who had not come prepared.  Some commentators point out that in a circumstance like this, the host would provide the wedding garment for all guests.  This would mean that this person who was not wearing one had chosen not to put on what the host provided.  This would explain why he was singled out.  He had accepted the invitation, but then refused the gift of a new garment. 

The last line of this parable is one that makes us cringe, because it doesn’t sound like the Jesus we know and love.  He said, “For many are called, but few are chosen.”  If you think this sounds wrong, I would agree.  Perhaps a better interpretation would be, “Many are invited, but few choose to stay.”  Being called is the invitation that God provides to all of us.  We are all invited to the banquet.  We are all invited to be children of God.  Yet it is our choice whether we accept that invitation.  The man in this story was willing to come to the table, but he wasn’t willing to change.  In Galatians, Paul says that we are clothed in Christ.  That sounds lovely.  Unfortunately, it’s much harder than simply changing our clothes. God wants us to change our heart and our actions.  God is looking for a transformation.

One of my favorite quotes (and no one knows who first said it) is, “God loves us just the way we are, but God loves us too much to let us stay that way.” It’s true that God’s love for us is abundant and all encompassing.  But God also has expectations for what we do with that love.  If we accept God’s love, we must then love others…not just in word, but in action.  If we accept God’s love, we cannot simply witness violence and say, “Well that’s just the way it is.” And we can’t accept our own faults and refuse to change, because then we just end up wearing our guilt and shame like chains. 

While we are wrapped in the chains that we have refused to loose, God holds the lightest most beautiful garment we could possibly imagine. My theory is that this wedding guest wasn’t ready to let go of his own guilt and shame.  Maybe he didn’t feel like he was good enough to wear this beautiful wedding robe.  Maybe he felt like he couldn’t possibly deserve what he had been given.  So he refused to even try it on. 

We are all worthy to embody the love of God.  We are all worthy, no matter what has happened in the past, even if the past is this morning.  We are all worthy. The question is, can we believe that? Can we act in a way that shows we have accepted God’s love? 

We can. I know we can.  Yet it’s not as easy as simply changing our clothes. It’s slow process…more like releasing chains than changing clothes.  Sometimes we even put the chains back on because their heaviness protects us in some way, protects us from the freedom and love that both draws us in and terrifies us. That’s one of the reasons we have the confession every Sunday. Because we need weekly (maybe hourly) reminders that God’s forgiveness is ours if only we ask.  Redemption is ours if only we seek. It’s a journey.  It’s an arduous journey.  But it’s not one we take alone.  We make that journey with one another and with God. 

What we cannot do is give up.  We remove one chain at a time, and when they pile up again, we ask someone else for help.  You are worthy of God’s love. Israel and Palestine are worthy of God’s love.  All are worthy of God’s love.  Can we act in a way that shows we believe that?  Can we? We can— with God’s help, we can.

We Press On: October 8, 202

 Philippians 3:4-14                                               Year A, Pentecost 19                                                             

One of the things I have always appreciated about the Episcopal Church is that many of us seem to be comfortable in the gray areas.  We embrace the questions.  And as someone who has always had more questions than answers, I felt at home in the Episcopal Church.  I was raised Roman Catholic and my questions were not always appreciated by the clergy and Sunday School teachers.  Fortunately I had parents who encouraged my questions and never shut me down, which really helped my faith life. I love that the Episcopal Church has doctrine, liturgy and a commitment to scripture, but still encourages critical thinking and an open mind. 

Yet sometimes…I long for the certainty that so many Christians seem to have.  My first year in college, I joined one of the Christian groups on campus, which was almost exclusively made up of Evangelicals.  They were friendly and outgoing, which made it an easy group to step into, for me at least.   Often the events would center around a talk about a person’s conversion experience. Despite my doubts and uncertainties, I loved those stories because there was so much joy and confidence.  I craved both of those things.  That is the model we often see when people present life before and after they have been born again or committed their life to Jesus.  Before there was darkness and suffering, then there was light and joy.

            A lot of people hold up Paul’s conversion story as the quintessential conversion story.  There he was, a man who was actually persecuting and imprisoning Christians.  And then one day, he was simply walking down the road and a bright light came from heaven and he was knocked own.  Then a voice came from heaven and asked, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” After that--- the same voice (Jesus’ voice) gave Paul instructions on what to do next.  If that wasn’t dramatic enough, he was then blinded and his eyes were only opened when he was baptized.  It’s like a recipe for the perfect conversion. How could there be any room for doubt after that? 

Here is the interesting thing, that dramatic story is in Acts of the Apostles.  Paul didn’t write Acts of the Apostles.  I am not implying that it’s not an accurate story, but it is curious that Paul never told that story in the many letters he wrote. He talked about his conversion, but it was much more nuanced.  In fact he didn’t use the word conversion.  It seems to me it was more of an experience and then a change.  It was a journey.  Paul nor Acts ever used the word conversion. For Paul, that experience and change didn’t give him all the answers, nor unmitigated joy.  It gave him more questions, but also the ultimate answer, which was Jesus Christ.

Today’s reading from Paul begins with what appears to be an elaborate humble brag.  It’s so much more than that.  He was showing that before his Jesus experience he had the ultimate confidence in his own abilities, his knowledge.  He didn’t have any questions or doubts.   After he heard the voice of Jesus question him (remember that’s how the whole thing started, Jesus asked him a question), then all his knowledge, education and pedigree was considered a loss.  He lost all the confidence and arrogance and instead discovered the love, but also yearning that comes with knowing and being known by Jesus Christ.

One of the other things I always appreciated in those conversion stories I heard in college was the joy.  Paul talks about joy, but I am not sure anyone would call him a joyful person.   Many if not all of you know that Good Friday comes first and then comes Easter.  Good Friday is when Jesus suffered and died.  Easter is when he comes back to life and then everyone is joyful.  Yet note what Paul says, “I want to know the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death…”  The resurrection (Easter) comes first and then sharing in suffering comes second.  Paul, one of the greatest theologians and evangelists of all time, seems to have it backwards.  According to Paul, first comes resurrection and then suffering.

Well I don’t know about you, but I will take joy and confidence over suffering any day of the week.  Sometimes I am baffled that Paul brought so many people to the faith because he didn’t sell the Christian faith well.  Perhaps, what spoke to people was that it was real.  Life doesn’t get easier once you commit your life to Jesus.  It gets harder. Yes, there is immense joy in knowing that God loves us deeply and unconditionally, but Jesus also tells us that we have to open our heart to the suffering in our world. So even if we don’t have personal suffering (which is unlikely), we are called to care for those who do…we refuse to close our eyes to the injustice in our midst and then act in a way that will bring about justice. All of that is hard…but I don’t want to be part of a faith tradition that refuses to acknowledge the pain in our midst.  Since you are here, I don’t think you want that either.

Before I end, I have to clarify that I don’t look down on Evangelicals.  A good portion of my family is Evangelical and they care for the suffering.  They don’t pretend to have all the answers.  When I was in college, those talks were coming from college students.  My guess is that if I tracked those people down, they would admit to some questions and doubting after their conversion.  They would tell me there journey was just beginning.  Even the pope, who so many people go to for answers, has said publicly that doubt can help us understand God better.

While I respect the denominations that focus on certainty, I still prefer the way we do it in the Episcopal Church.   I have never found a single Episcopalian who has made me feel bad about my questions and doubts.  Never.  While I find these words from Paul challenging, I also find them comforting. Because I still have a lot of questions. In 2 months, I will have been ordained for 18 years. If you had asked me 18 years ago if I would have more answers in 18 years, I would have said, absolutely. I would have been wrong.  Wherever you may be in your faith journey, don’t you dare be ashamed of your questions or doubts.  Don’t think you are a lesser Christian because you don’t bounce out of bed in the morning full of joy.  Embrace the challenge of Paul, but also bask in the comfort of the knowledge that you don’t need to know the answers. It’s ok to crave assurance and joy, but not yet have it. 

Paul ends by saying that he hasn’t yet reached the goal.  He is still straining forward and pressing on. That’s what we all must do, in the face of suffering and injustice…we press on. In the face of our own sins and failing, we press on. In a country where churches are getting smaller and some would say irrelevant, we press on. We carry a message that matters.  We carry a message of love and truth. We carry a message that can bring healing to the wounded.  So we press on my friends.  We press on.

Humility and Community: October 1, 2023

 Philippians 2:1-13                                    Year A, Pentecost 18                                     

My last church was situated in a lovely and relatively small city called Hampton. We didn’t have a minor league baseball team, much less a major league team.  We had a team that was made up of college baseball players who were looking for places to play in the summer.  The games were a lot of fun because you were able to get close to the action.  The people in my church were big supporters of the team.  There was one night where the baseball organization made a specific invitation to churches.  We decided to attend and someone finagled me an invitation to throw the first pitch along with another pastor from a different church. 

This was horrifying prospect for me.  I played soccer. The only time I had thrown a baseball was at a dunking booth and that was embarrassing enough.  I practiced a little, but when the time came, I was overcome with anxiety and the ball didn’t make it over the plate.  It was humiliating. So of course I posted the picture on facebook--- of me on the pitcher’s mound with my head in my hands and wrote, “Another opportunity for humility.”  At the time, I perceived any failure as an opportunity to gain more humility…which isn’t entirely wrong…but I will explain later why this experience wasn’t a great example of humility. 

          One of the themes you will find throughout Paul’s writings is the importance of community, unity, and humility.  Our reading from Philippians starts with the very beginning of chapter 2, but it’s very much connected to what he said in the first chapter.  There he said, “I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the Gospel.”  He returns to this idea of being in the same mind or of one mind several times in our reading for today. 

It’s natural to assume that Paul is telling everyone that they need to agree with one another and even think the same way.  But the Greek that is translated to “be of the same mind” is tricky to translate.  A more accurate interpretation might be “having a depth of understanding and practical wisdom, to know how to act correctly, even in complicated situations.”  That kind of makes just agreeing with one another sound a bit easier. Wouldn’t it be easier just to agree with someone rather than try to understand them? I have had a lot of practice in trying to understand people who I disagree with and it can be a brutal experience.  Rewarding—but brutal.

What does it mean to be of the same mind if you don’t have the same exact beliefs of others in your Christian community? Paul answers that in the direct yet indirect way he excels at.  “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.”  Regard others as better than yourselves.  Now that sounds a bit much.  It’s one thing to respect others and serve others, but why do we assume everyone has to be better than us?  It sounds more like self-degradation and self-deprecation, which can often lead to insecurity and even self-hatred.  Jesus loves his children.   He doesn’t want any of them hating themselves.  So what does Paul mean? I don’t think he intended to focus on how we feel about ourselves, as much as how we feel about others.  Paul wants us to see ourselves and others as beloved children of God.  Sometimes we are good at that, sometimes not so much. 

I saw a bumper sticker that said, “God loves everyone, but God loves me the best.”  And you know, I think we sometimes think that.  We think there is a tier system and surely we are on the top.  When I am really upset with someone, I try to remember, “God loves them too.”  I say it to myself, but I am not sure I am convincing myself. Because if we truly believe that God loves all  God’s children equally, we wouldn’t be able to look down on people.  That’s humility---it’s not about lowering yourself, but raising up others.

When we are able to truly humble ourselves, then we can live in an authentic community.  We can be of the same mind without agreeing about everything.  Because we can acknowledge, “Ok, we might not agree and I am may be absolutely right…but they are still loved by God and they deserve my respect.”  That is what a true Christian community looks like---always remembering that God loves us all equally.

So what does this have to do with my first pitch?  It was humbling and I remember adoring the people of my church as they cheered while the ball rolled across the plate.   They didn’t care that I threw a horrible pitch. They just appreciated that I tried.  But here is where I failed at humility.  You see…the other pastor, he had clearly played baseball. He had the right clothes and he threw a perfect pitch and I was not happy about that.  Because he was from the huge Baptist Church that didn’t allow women to be ordained.  Now I could have been a good Christian and gone up to him and introduced myself.  I could have invited him to lunch so as to get to know him and find some common ground.  But I didn’t do any of that.  I just muttered under my breath about his fancy pitch and found the people I knew loved me.  Because of my inability to see him as a beloved child of God, I missed a chance at being in a community with a different kind of Christians 

Now in my defense…since you don’t know me and might be thinking I am incredibly petty, I did get to know a lot of pastors and Christians from other denominations in my time in Hampton.  I became friends with pastors who I disagreed with on all kinds of levels, but we all cared about serving  people and bringing God’s love to those people.  We raised one another up and we formed a genuine community.  We formed that community when George Floyd was killed three years ago.  We knew that we could not help a diverse community heal without a diverse group of pastors coming together.  That was one of the times when I really learned how important humility is when forming a community of people with wildly different opinions.  It’s not about thinking less about yourself.  It’s about thinking more of others.

I have been here for less than a week, but I have been blown away by your kindness and hospitality.  You have brought my family food and offered to help unpack boxes. I have also seen how you care for one another through Good Shepherds, Parish Life, and small groups bringing communion to those who are homebound.  While I don’t know you, I am going to take a wild guess and assume you all don’t agree about everything all the time.  That’s ok. That’s actually good.  The church is the one place, the one community where you don’t have to have anything in common except faith or a desire to have faith.  You don’t need to vote for the same people, you don’t need to have the same level of education or the same amount of money.  You might not have anything in common with the person behind you.  You don’t even have to all like the Eagles!

That makes us unique and exquisite.  It also makes it hard to stay in community and you can tell from Paul’s letters, it was hard for the early Christian community as well.  But it’s worth it.  If we can just try to see others as God’s see them, then we will discover what humility really means.  It’s putting the needs of others above our needs.  I know you already have a good community, but my hope for my time with you, is that we will build an even more diverse community that is imbued with the Holy Spirit….a place where we can really know one another.  That is what we all crave, being known and loved for who we are. We can do that together, with humility and love.

 

 

Jesus is even in the conflicts: Sept 10, 2023

Year A, Pentecost 15                                         Matthew 18:15-20

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Picture of my last Sunday by Bob Harper