Sunday, July 7, 2013

The 7th Sunday after Pentecost - Lambs in the Midst of Wolves?


"See," said Jesus, "I am sending you out like lambs in the midst of wolves."  One wonders after a statement like that why seventy people were still willing to go out and proclaim the reign of God.  Did they think Jesus was using a rather exaggerated figure of speech?  Perhaps it's like the expression I've heard folks use when they're trying to accomplish something difficult, and it's not going well--"I'm up to my ears in alligators."

But I think that in his statement about lambs and wolves Jesus emphasized the nature of the lambs and also how ministry feels.  One word comes to mind: vulnerable.  Yes, vulnerable--but with a strategy.  And that strategy is  "travel light," trust in God, and don't be deterred by rejection.  If a person can follow the example of there seventy disciples, then his or her vulnerability becomes an asset, because it leaves room for God to act.

We can see that's the case when we find the seventy have come back expressing joy at what was accomplished.  But how hard this lesson is for us!  When we want a project to succeed, we invest so much of ourselves in getting the outcome we want.  We may call it "taking personal responsibility." But it also can become an obsession when the needs and feelings of those around us fade into the background.  It can become a perfectionist attitude, and the thought of criticism from others becomes unbearable.

And this sort of perfectionism can be found in really wonderful people.  When I was a teenager, a young minister, who related so well to young people, came to our church.  I was a Methodist then, and I used to tease him and call him Father Ellis (Methodist pastors were NEVER called "Father").  As I look back, I think I did this because he treated me like a loving father would--with appreciation and respect.  When I was in college, he was hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer. Now we know that such problems have a medical cause, but back then it was attributed only to diet and stress.

When I spoke with his wife, she made a statement I have always remembered: "It's not what he was eating, but what's eating him."  I believe she felt that, in the terms of today's gospel, he had not been able to accept his vulnerability and detach from the politics of pastoring an important church in a small town--despite his popularity with the congregation.  The outcome of this was good, though.  He survived and went on to pastor a larger church in the Pike Creek area.  Living in a more urban area gave him and his family some respite from the small town fishbowl existence.  When we met again, many years later, I found someone who had made peace with the demands of his vocation.

In the passage we heard from Galatians, St. Paul addressed the need for a Christian community in which there is both accountability and compassion.   When both of these are at work in the members of that community, then the temptation of placing success or the exercise of power above healthy community can be resisted.

Paul framed his teaching to the Galatians in the context of a "transgression" of someone in the community and the need to "fulfill the law of Christ"--which is, of course, to love your neighbor as yourself.  Paul described the compassion piece as restoring "such a one [who had transgressed] in the spirit of gentleness" and as bearing one another's burdens.  A person's difficulty in following Jesus (transgression) isn't an occasion for feeling superior or expressing condescension.  Rather it will be a time for each member of the community to engage in self-examination, or as St Paul said, "All must test their own work."  That's what he meant when he described the accountability piece as, "For all must carry their own loads."  It's interesting that Paul put the compassion piece before the accountability piece of self–examination in his letter.  Could he be making the same point when he said, "So then, whenever we have an opportunity let us work for the good of all . . .?”

"To work for the good of all" meant that St. Paul did not need to boast about what he had accomplished.  He said, "May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world."  That's the detachment Jesus asked those he sent out to proclaim the reign of God to maintain.  As lambs we don't have a position of power or status to maintain.  But if we know we will be traveling light, trusting God, and not concerned about rejection, even as lambs in the midst of wolves, we can proclaim boldly how Jesus has made everything, including us, "a new creation."

St. Teresa of Avila began a reformed branch of the Carmelite monastic order in 16th century Spain with the Inquisition raging around her.  As a woman who had mystical experiences and who wrote about them, she more than once fell under suspicion.  She was indeed a lamb in the midst of  wolves!  The code by which she lived--and required her nuns to live by as well--could be described as traveling light, trusting in God, and not worrying about the outcome.  She said that three things were important: detachment—as in the sense of not being emotionally needy for the good opinion of others, humility, and caritas/self-giving love. And these were undergirded by many hours of contemplative prayer in which she and her nuns were LISTENING to what God might say to them.  In their real vulnerability, but also in their deep trust in God, they could not only proclaim God's reign, but also show the world what living God's reign really meant.

Isn't that what we should be about today?  As a Christian community I believe we should not reject vulnerability, but we should recognize that God can act in the space of our vulnerability.  It isn't our how clever or perfect or powerful we are, but how lightly we can travel with a humble attitude and with self-giving love. And especially how detached we can be from clinging to one outcome or another as the only right one, because of what we hear from others!

As Luke reported Jesus saying, "Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you [that’s how the seventy had measured their success] but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."  Let us, fellow lambs, rejoice today knowing that God's grace will surround us, forgiving us our shortcomings and even our failures.  Yes, rejoice that God will indeed have taken down our names and, knowing each of us, will draw us to the divine light in life eternal.

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