The Last Sunday after Pentecost - Christ Reigns!

     The 25th chapter of Matthew, which has supplied our gospel readings for the past two Sundays, as well as today, describes ways that we could be judged by God.  Could we be like the unprepared bridesmaids who ran out of oil and missed the return of the bridegroom? Could we be like the servant who buried the talent his master gave him instead of using it to gain more for the master? These parables depict very harsh examples of judgment in the kingdom of heaven.  They might prompt us to become concerned about our worthiness for Christ's reign at the end of time.  Or they might lead us to question whether we want to worship a God that will not give second chances or who will show no mercy when judgment day comes. Or we might even say that we don't think the bridegroom or the master in the parables is truly God. But with these two characters Jesus creates images that he wants to contrast with the Son of Man or the king in the final section of this chapter.

But the like a piece of music that contains three movements with the third movement resolving the themes of the first two, the third section of the 25th chapter will help us resolve the tension built up in the first two parables. This section begins with the "Son of Man" coming in glorious splendor ready to separate the people who will be blessed by inheriting eternal life from the people who will be separated from God for eternity. In this parable-like story of the separating of the sheep from the goats, Jesus explains what he values most and how people will be judged.

Jesus said, ". . for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me."  And then Jesus explains that in doing it for "the least of these" you were doing it for him.  If he intends the disciples to see him as the Messianic "Son of Man," he intends for them to understand that he stands in solidarity with the most vulnerable people in their world.

One way to understand a scripture passage better is to imagine that you are a participant in the story. In this story I think there might be two ways to do this: first can you see yourself among those who asked Jesus, “When did we do these things for you?”  You are unaware of anything you did special, but then Jesus told you had cared for the needs of the vulnerable--and that was enough to gain entry into eternal life.  Yet as you fed, clothed, took care of, and visited, why had you done these things?  You, as part of the first group of people in the parable, had not especially been seeking God's favor.  In the world of the parable you had been going about business, but with eyes open to the needs around you.  You may have even asked yourself the question as you chose to help, "If not me, who will aid this person?"  This was the attitude of the Good Samaritan as he encountered the wounded man by the roadside.

     The other group of folks in the parable, the ones the king labeled "accursed," were also going about their business. However, they weren’t aware the needs around them.  They didn't understand that "the Son of Man," the King upon throne in his glory, could be found in the spirits or souls or hearts of those in need. Yes, Christ enthroned is glorious, but there is no divide between him and the  "least of these who are members of [his] family."  Even someone in prison!  Even someone who is homeless!  Even someone who suffers from significant physical or mental illness-- think Ebola, think severe depression.

The second way into this parable is to imagine that you are one of the "least of these."  Scholars are divided about this, but some of them feel that in telling this parable Jesus was trying help his disciples realize that, despite the mistreatment they would suffer, they could be sure Jesus would reward those who helped them.  Have you ever felt hunger and thirst at a time you could do nothing about it? Have you ever been a stranger anxious about how you would be received? Yes, and all of us have been sick to the point of feeling things might not come out well, haven't we?  If Jesus identifies with human beings at their most vulnerable--might not that help us know in at least some moments we have been "one of the least of these?” And if we can admit to ourselves these vulnerable moments have been ours, then our eyes will be opened to folks who need our attention and our care.

Since I have been Fred's [my spouse] caretaker for nine to ten months now and with special intensity during the last two weeks, I have wondered about what good could come out of our distress--his physical and mine emotional. I would have done this caretaking out of duty, of course.  But through this experience of caretaking, have I seen God's presence? At first I did not, but as my distress about Fred's situation increased and my anxiety about caring for him overwhelmed me, my heart cracked open and God filled the emptiness.

I wouldn't have said this ten months ago, but I have a new understanding of St. Paul's phrase in the passage from Ephesians we heard today.  That phrase is ". . . may you know. . . what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe."  I now understand that this is the power to enter our suffering, walk with us through that suffering, and fill our broken-open places with love.  Yes, Christ reigns not only in glory, but also in our brokenness. And for that, I want to say, "Thanks be to God."

The 15th Sunday after Pentecost - Seafarers & Laborers: Worthy or Not?

As I looked at today’s readings this week I've been wondering what they tell us about we should view life.  And in my wondering I think I see two dimensions cropping up in our readings from Jonah and Matthew: dependence and interdependence, accountability and grace.

Today has been designated Sea Sunday by the Seamen's Center in Wilmington.  As we think about the lives of those who work to bring cargo from all over the world to the Port of Wilmington, we may remember the seamen in the Jonah story:

“Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai, saying, ‘Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.’ But Jonah set out to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord. He went down to Joppa and found a ship going to Tarshish; so he paid his fare and went on board, to go with them to Tarshish, away from the presence of the Lord.

“But the Lord hurled a great wind upon the sea, and such a mighty storm came upon the sea that the ship threatened to break up. Then the mariners were afraid, and each cried to his god. They threw the cargo that was in the ship into the sea, to lighten it for them. Jonah, meanwhile, had gone down into the hold of the ship and had lain down, and was fast asleep. The captain came and said to him, ‘What are you doing sound asleep? Get up, call on your god! Perhaps the god will spare us a thought so that we do not perish.’

         “The sailors said to one another, ‘Come, let us cast lots, so that we may know on whose account this calamity has come upon us.’ So they cast lots, and the lot fell on Jonah. Then they said to him, ‘Tell us why this calamity has come upon us. What is your occupation? Where do you come from? What is your country? And of what people are you?’ ‘I am a Hebrew,’ he replied. ‘I worship the Lord, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land.’ Then the men were even more afraid, and said to him, ‘What is this that you have done!’ For the men knew that he was fleeing from the presence of the Lord, because he had told them so.

         “Then they said to him, ‘What shall we do to you, that the sea may quiet down for us?’ For the sea was growing more and more tempestuous. He said to them, ‘Pick me up and throw me into the sea; then the sea will quiet down for you; for I know it is because of me that this great storm has come upon you.’ Nevertheless, the men rowed hard to bring the ship back to land, but they could not, for the sea grew more and more stormy against them. Then they cried out to the Lord, ‘Please, O Lord, we pray, do not let us perish on account of this man’s life. Do not make us guilty of innocent blood; for you, O Lord, have done as it pleased you.’ So they picked Jonah up and threw him into the sea; and the sea ceased from its raging. Then the men feared the Lord even more, and they offered a sacrifice to the Lord and made vows.”

The person who wrote the story of Jonah depicted not only the dangers of a seafarer's life, but also the theology of both dependence on a power outside one's self and of interdependence among people when encountering power outside themselves.  These themes come back again in the portion of Jonah we heard: the repentance of the Ninivities came through Jonah's prophecy--although he deeply resented being the instrument in which God's mercy was shown to his people's enemies.

If this story of Jonah and the Ninivites doesn't unsettle us a bit, surely Jesus' parable of the Capricious Landowner should.  Matthew leads up to this parable by reporting that Jesus tells the rich young ruler to sell all he has if he wants to follow Jesus; then he tells the disciples that only God can save them for the kingdom of heaven; then Jesus tells Peter that only when you give up everything for God's sake will you receive eternal life.  And finally, Matthew brackets the parable with Jesus’ upsetting pronouncement that the first shall be last.

In the context of Jesus' ministry and at that moment in history, Jesus' demand for complete surrender of all that has mattered to you in the past makes a certain amount of sense.  The point of the kingdom parable about the landowner paying the same amount for different amounts of work appears to be this:  every one of the landowner's laborers, no matter how hard or little they labored, should be uncomplaining and grateful for his generosity.  So doesn't this imply that one's merit, the accountability for one's deeds counts for little?  Somehow in the light of this parable the grace moment of the last being first seems to make salvation too easy and grace too cheap.

So where does that leave us, we who fare forward on the stormy seas of life and labor daily hoping for God's grace now and in our life eternally?  Each of us will have the chance to decide how this sermon should end.  Ending 1: I preach that you should practice interdependence and gratitude, trusting in God's grace to calm the storm and to eternally provide for us no matter our worthiness.  Ending 2: I empathize with your frustration in trying to understand how anyone could possibly live the way Jesus told his disciples to live and with your difficulty in trying to accept that God might save our enemies; yet telling you to trust that in the end that God will find us worthy of forgiveness and eternal life.  [Ask for a show of hands in support of Ending 1 or Ending 2.]  Theologically, then, the question becomes should we consider ourselves unworthy or worthy?  How do you believe God sees you—sees us?  Could we be both?

The 14th Sunday after Pentecost - Baptism into a Special Community

Today we have three readings that show three different ways of healing what has torn apart or threatens to tear apart relationships within a family or a household or a community.  Today we also will baptize V. E. and join her to the household of faith, the Body of Christ.  These two things may not seem related, but they are.

From the book of Genesis we hear about the reconciliation of Jacob's son Joseph and his brothers who nearly killed him before deciding to sell him into slavery.  They had behaved so badly, because they were jealous of their father's special love for Joseph--and because Joseph had gloried in how he favored he was!  Now, because of severe drought and the threat of famine, they were dependent on his good will.  He didn't let them forget his power over them, but he did not seek revenge.  He showed forgiveness, because he wanted his family preserved.

St. Paul wrote to the Christians in the church in Roman to prevent this community from splitting apart over eating practices and observing one day or another as holy to the Lord.  He said that no matter what your practice is, if your purpose is to give honor and thanks to God, it's o.k.  If he were to use modern ways of explaining himself, he would say, "Hey, it's not all about you--so don't stress--and don't write that other guy off!"  Judging each other as a good Christian, or not a good Christian--within this community--will only take away from our job, which is to love and praise God.

And then there's the radical forgiveness--again within the community of disciples--that Jesus commands them to practice.  The kingdom parable depicts the king (who we can assume is God) as forgiving a debt with enormous, unbelievable generosity of spirit.  Yet in return the king in the parable expects all in his household to behave as he has.

Thus we can see that in a God or Christ centered community:  We don't take revenge.  We show tolerance for those who disagree with us because we are more focused on Christ than on ourselves.  And we generously forgive others in our community--because we have been forgiven first by God through Christ!

So into such a community, V. E.'s parents, God-parents, and family--including her sister A--bring her today to receive the sacrament of baptism.  Now before we give ourselves to big a pat on the back for our perfect Christian community, we must own up to the truth.  Although we seek to fulfill our baptismal vows and be a community that focuses on Christ, sometimes we slip a bit.

Nevertheless being brought into the Body of Christ through baptism means that with her family's and godparents' guidance, she will find herself part of a very special community.  In this community we come to know the values Jesus taught his disciples, and we learn how the people we care about and who care about us try to live out those values.

Tracy Keenan, Sr. Pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church, in Columbus, Ohio, wrote this in a blog on her church's website: "Church may be anachronistic, quirky, and not terribly exciting.  And sometimes it’s deliciously mind-blowing. Life-changing.  And often you leave better than when you came in the door.

“Church is one of the only places where you can participate in intergenerational community that is intentional about learning to practice love, forgiveness, social justice, and generosity.  It is one of the few places where people actually try to love their enemies and admit when they are wrong. Who else does that?

“It doesn’t come naturally, and it takes a lot of support to keep trying to love the way we believe we are loved. And. Life is hard. It is also astoundingly magnificent.

“Church is where you learn how to recognize the powerful love of God and to find your place in that love, how to negotiate life’s crazy turns, how to do the best you can and leave the rest up to God.

It’s where you learn people aren’t perfect, but they will be there for you if you let them. It’s where you learn to accept that you’re not perfect either, and you are deeply loved no matter what.  Church life can help you do life better."

So this day we give thanks that we have the privilege of baptizing V. E. and welcoming her into Christ's Body right here at St. Nicholas'. May she, and everyone who comes into this church, find generosity, hospitality and forgiveness--with God's help--practiced here!

The 13th Sunday after Pentecost - What Kind of Community?

Once a parishioner told me--referring to a statement I had just made--"I hate that song!"  The song to which he referred was "They'll Know We Are Christians [by our love].  You may know how it goes:

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord,

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord,

And we pray that all unity may one day be restored.

Refrain

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love,

Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand,

We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand,

And together we’ll spread the news that God is in our land.

We will work with each other, we will work side by side,

We will work with each other, we will work side by side,

And we’ll guard each one’s dignity and save each one’s pride.

All praise to the Father, from whom all things come,

And all praise to Christ Jesus, his only Son,

And all praise to the Spirit, who makes us one.

I think he didn't like the "sappy" sentiment, because he had seen plenty of conflict in the church. However, the song may well be parsed as addressing a time when Jesus returns and the stuff that we have gotten into conflict over will fade away.  In the meantime, however, we have a community to tend and a friendship with Jesus to cultivate or, as St. Paul might say, our Lord Jesus Christ to put on.

I've grown quite fond of the writing of a seminary professor and blogger named, Dr. David Lose.  Dr. Lose has recently assumed the presidency of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia.  In a commentary on our gospel lesson he urged preachers to ask their congregation members to think about sort of community they want to be.  Here's how he put it: "So what kind of community do we want from our congregation -- largely social, somewhat superficial (which is, of course, safe)? Do we want something more meaningful or intimate (which is riskier and harder)? Do we want a place that can both encourage us and hold us accountable? Are we looking for a place we can be honest about our hopes and fears, dreams and anxieties? Do we want somewhere we can just blend in or are we looking for a place we can really make a difference?" 

If you take the passage from Matthew's gospel as a model, the "accountability" peace may be a bit stronger than most of us would be comfortable with in most circumstances.  But Jesus' point is well taken that conflict between folks in a community can lead to the community coming apart.  Better for two individuals--both of whom may feel sinned against--to listen to each other and try to work things out between them.  One of the techniques used in mediation of a conflict has one person summarizing the other person's point of view until that person declares that his opponent has summarized his view correctly. Then the roles are switched.

The apparent shunning advice that comes if the offended person and the whole community can't work things out seems odd coming from Jesus' mouth.  Could he be confronting his disciples' attitudes?  After all, Jesus hung out with Gentiles and tax collectors regularly--including Matthew, himself a former tax collector.  Is he really saying that you should never give up trying to reconcile with even people you find difficult?  For he goes on to say that if two of the disciples agree on earth about something on earth, God will honor their agreement by doing what they ask.  What a radical statement! 

And I don't think Jesus talks like this about getting stuff from God, but rather about how God can work in a relationship when people have reconciled with one another.  Reconciliation in the context of this passage would be, I think, loosing the bondage of our sins and binding ourselves to God's way of justice and peace.

St. Paul talks about this same issue in the letter to the Roman Christians. He declares that in loving your neighbor as yourself, you will do no wrong to your neighbor.  And in doing "no wrong" you will avoid not only sins of the flesh, but also "quarreling and jealousy."  He calls this "putting on the armor of light" and "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ."  We will live in a reconciling spirit when we "put on" Christ.  We will create a community in which our decision to love others and doing no wrong to them makes our community a place where we can--in safety--be honest about our hopes and fears, our dreams and anxieties, to quote Dr. Lose.  Yes, a place where we can be both our honest selves and our best selves, living out our decision to love others and do no wrong to them.

As fallible human beings, we can never achieve the ideal of community in which no wrong is ever done.  But in the spirit of Matthew's gospel, as community committed to "putting on" Christ, our community can renew itself, can tend itself, by seeking always to find out how people who are at odds with one another can be reconciled.  Perhaps the third verse of the "sappy" song says it clearly enough:

We will work with each other, we will work side by side,

We will work with each other, we will work side by side,

And we’ll guard each one’s dignity and save each one’s pride.

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love,

Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

David Lose, “What Kind of Community Will We Be,” Dear Working Preacher, August 28, 2011.

The 12th Sunday after Pentecost - Losing or Saving One's Life

In the fall of 2005 I made friends with Titus Presler.  He had left his position as President of the Seminary of the Southwest and took a position at General Seminary as the academic dean.  Despite what you might be thinking--I was not "called" to the Dean's office!  Before Time Warner had installed internet in our tiny apartment, I had to send out some short prayers I had written each evening for a campus group using the campus Wi-Fi.  The only place I could get a signal in the evening was in the building where the IT office was. Titus' office was on the floor directly below the IT office, and there were a couple of chairs in the hallway.  So I quietly made my way to this spot with my laptop each evening.  One evening his door was open as he unpacked some boxes of books.  He noticed me and came out in the hall to find out—in a most pleasant way—who I was and why I was there.

After that, we occasionally found ourselves at the same table at lunch. I got to know his wife, Jane, who worked in the world mission section of the Presiding Bishop's office and had coffee with her. He made a special point of speaking with me after my senior sermon with positive feedback. And I audited his world mission class my final semester at General.

I heard that he did not remain at General, probably a casualty of the turmoil going on between the faculty and the administration.  I knew that his wife's job had been eliminated, and she (also an Episcopal priest) was serving at various churches in the New York City area.  I wondered what they were going to do next.

Then I learned that he had been appointed to the position of Principal at Edwardes College in Peshawar, Pakistan. I'm not exactly sure what his job entailed, but I knew his commitment to the new way of doing world mission. This new way entails walking with the people to whom you have gone to accomplish the goals they have developed. Yet Pakistan seemed so foreign, so dangerous.  Why did he choose to go there?  It may have been that his particular set of skills and his experience were needed. 

Edwardes College was founded in 1900.  It is currently owned by the Church of Pakistan, an ecumenical union of Anglicans, Lutherans, Methodists, and Presbyterians.  Here is Titus' description of the college:  "Edwardes is not a Christian enclave: 92 percent of the 2,800 students are Muslim, 7 percent are Christian, and 1 percent are Hindu or Sikh; 90 percent of the 105 faculty members are Muslim; and the campus includes a mosque as well as a chapel."

But the government of the provincial area wanted control of the college and engaged in acts of intimidation and even physically abused a Christian administrator.  Titus was no longer safe in Peshawar and went to live in Islamabad with a Muslim who believes that religious minorities should not be persecuted. The government continued to try to take over the college.  A lawsuit by the college tried to block this take-over, and Titus returned from the U. S. to testify. 

He described what happened in a recent article in Christian Century: "In February of this year, I received a safe-passage letter from Pakistan’s Interior Ministry and traveled back to Pakistan to appear in Peshawar High Court to support the diocese’s lawsuit against the government’s takeover bid. On our way out of the city, ISI agents flagged down me and my host, tore up the safe-passage letter, and hauled me into their vehicle. For about eight minutes two agents, one on each side, beat me with fists while the agent in the front seat accused me of being a CIA agent, warned me to leave Pakistan, threatened to kill me, and ripped the work visa out of my passport. My host argued strenuously with agents who were keeping watch outside and prevented a worse outcome by securing my release. In mid-April I arrived home to my family in Vermont, where I remain while the church works to resolve the situation.

         "As we drove away from our attackers, the prayer that came to my mind was this: “Friend Jesus, this and so much worse is what your Christian brothers and sisters have been experiencing here in Pakistan for so long. This and so much worse is what your Muslim brothers and sisters and others have been experiencing here for so long. Now I know it firsthand. I’m not thankful for the beating, Friend Jesus, but I am thankful for the knowledge. And for still being alive.”

I, too, am grateful that Titus survived this horrific experience.  He concluded his article by describing his heightened solidarity with the people he was serving in Peshawar.  And he asks for us "to join in prayer and mission" with Christians who live in fear of their lives, but who steadfastly maintain their faith.

Indeed, as Matthew gospel tells us, Jesus admonished his disciples, "If any want to be my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it."  I doubt that Titus took his job at Edwardes thinking that he could be martyred.  We may also find ourselves unexpectedly in situations where more is demanded of us physically, emotionally or spiritually than we ever expected.

As we listen for God's leading in these situations, let us remember Jesus' assurance that God will honor our commitment to act with compassion, trusting that God will not abandon us--even if it means making ourselves vulnerable to losing whatever has always seemed most important to us. Yes, let us trust in God’s faithfulness; let us trust in God always--through every circumstance!

Titus Presler, "Persecuted in Pakistan," Christian Century, September 3, 2014, p. 20-21.

The 11th Sunday after Pentecost - To Live with A Focus on What Really Matters

Matthew's gospel passage today asks and answers two questions:  "Who is Jesus?" and "Who is Peter?"  In answering these questions Matthew points out who we as Christians are as well.

If I asked you when you came in the door, "Who are you?" you most likely would give me a rather strange look. And then if I asked you who I am, you would know for certain I'd gone over the edge.  But the question of identity is very central to everything, really.  Most of us look at ourselves in the mirror every morning when we brush our teeth and think, "That's me!"  We start our day affirming our identity, observing our appearance and pondering the roles we will fill today. We also may have fleeting thoughts about how we are different than other folks--either in our favor or in theirs.

When Jesus asks his disciples, "But who do you say that I am?" he appears to be asking his disciples how they see him versus how he is viewed by others. In claiming he is "the Messiah, the son of the living God," Jesus' disciples are claiming they know his identity, which others do not know. 

Ian Markham, Dean and President of Virginia Theological Seminary and speaker at our diocesan convention two years ago, offered some reflections on today's passage from Matthew:  "How do we know what God is like? Here we are little people on a small planet. So how can we ever work out what God is like?

“The central Christian claim about the universe is that it is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus that tells us what God is like. In this Gospel, Jesus is challenging his disciples: ‘Who do people say that I am?’ And we have a variety of answers, but the one Jesus commends is the one from Peter: ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.’

“. . . So Jesus is a reflection of the Creator. The role of the Son in Trinitarian theology is to show us what God is like. Or to use the language of John, chapter 1 - Jesus is the Logos; Jesus is the Word; the Eternal Word made flesh. In the same way that words reveal thoughts, so Jesus is the revealer of the thoughts of God.

“In Christian theology the primary word of God is a life. It is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. This is the word that we are exhorted to imitate - in words and deeds (as the author at the start of Luke/Acts puts it). If you ask me what God is like: I look at the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. So how do I know that God identifies with the poor and excluded? Because in the ministry of Jesus I see a life that connected with the poor and excluded. How do I know that God wants to turn moments of despair into moments of hope? Because in Jesus, I see a Good Friday followed by Resurrection Sunday. How do I know that God calls us to live whole, transformed lives? Because in Jesus, I see the touching of countless lives and making them whole and transformed. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus is the Word. It is the life, death, and resurrection that shows us God. It is the revealing of God to the world. It is the Son disclosing the Father.

“So as we meditate on his life, we are being challenged. We are being invited. We are being shown precisely what the creator expects and requires of us. The God of the cosmos is calling us to discover love. To discover the capacity to live in conversation with others. To organize our life priorities so that we live with a focus on what matters."

And what Matthew tells us about Simon Peter's renaming by Jesus seems to be a call to him--and by extension to us—to "live with a focus on what really matters."  Simon is called to be the "rock" on which the strength of the church will rest, he is to hold the keys to the kingdom, and he will "bind and loose."  His importance to the community to which Matthew was writing could not be clearer. 

Yet, there is a sense in which Peter stands for all of us.  He received divine revelation in order to understand Jesus' identity.  We come to faith through that same divine gift. And the responsibility live out our faith in the world is indeed the "rock" on which Christ will be made known to the world.  We, too, are given "keys"--which St. Paul calls "gifts that differ according to the grace given to us." Those gifts—ministering, teaching, exhortation, generosity in giving, diligence in leading, cheerful compassion—are to be used to further the kingdom, God's reign of justice and peace—"binding and loosing," as it were, until all people know God's love.

So our identity, should we be asked about it today or any day, is not only or primarily made up of our appearance, the roles we play, or how we are the same as or different from others. Our true identity, as Peter's did, comes from our knowing Jesus Christ as Messiah and from giving our lives in steady faithfulness to our call from Jesus.  And Jesus calls us to be rock-solid as we share our grace-filled gifts and Christ's love with others.

• "How Do We Know What God Is Like?" The Very Rev. Dr. Ian Markham, Day 1, 2008.

The 8th Sunday after Pentecost - 5 Loaves, 2 Fish, and 5,000 Men, besides Women and Children

Today's readings give us insight about God's generous character.  God's generosity signifies the relationship God wants to have with God's people—which is everyone, according to Isaiah (Isaiah 55: 5).

What has been your experience with being generous or with benefitting from the generosity of another?  I want to share a story with you from the Depression era about a young Mennonite girl's understanding of her parents' generosity:

 "A couple of times a summer, a thin man dressed in black would politely knock on our back door about an hour before suppertime. His face looked old and weather-beaten, and despite the heat he always wore layers of clothing. The little cart with his belongings sat by the front gate.

“He would ask my mom if there was any food he could have that night. So she made extra of whatever she was preparing for dinner, keeping me inside the house while the man waited on the back steps. She filled a plate for him, and he sat on the steps and ate. After finishing his dinner he knocked on the door, said thank you, and continued on his way.

“Afterward my dad would launch into stories of the many hobos who passed through our small Pennsylvania town on freight trains during the Depression, looking for a meal and sometimes sleeping in the sheds at the family feed mill. “They’re homeless,” said my dad, “down on their luck, and it’s good for us to feed them.”

“My mom’s action, supported by my dad, left a deep impression on me. If she could feed someone so strange and different in our own yard, right outside our back door, I had some thinking to do about who belongs in our circle of interest and concern."*

This story came from a retired Mennonite pastor, Sue Clemmer Steiner, who has worked with a Mennonite social services agency in Canada, which addresses food security, supportive housing and addiction services.  She has determined that the folks who should comprise her "circle of interest and concern” are people in need.

The people who comprise Jesus' circle of interest and concern in today's reading from Matthew's gospel are in need as well.  Interestingly, Jesus has a need himself.  In the earlier part of the 14th chapter Matthew relates the story of the execution of John the Baptizer, Jesus's cousin, at the hands of King Herod. Just before the passage you heard today his disciples bought this sad and distressing news to him, so he sought to be alone.

Yet when the deserted place where he went filled with people who came to be healed, he acted with compassion and healed them.  His generous spirit continued to meet their needs when he took, blessed, broke, and gave the five loaves and two fish to all who were hungry.  His relationship with the crowd was just the same as God's relationship with the hungry Israelites in the desert. Then God provided quails and manna.  Now Jesus provided an abundance of food from very little.

Today we will experience God's providing food for us--in our case spiritual food for our journey as followers of Jesus.  We are usually most comfortable when we can give to another, but become much less comfortable in being the recipient of generosity.  Being the recipient of generosity--I'm not talking birthday, friendship, or Christmas presents now--implies that we have not been able to provide for our own needs, which makes us deficient in some way.

We come to God's table with our hands outstretched--some us are kneeling as well.  Isn't this a gesture of supplication? Please give me a morsel of bread and a sip of wine!  Our relationship to God is being in need, and in our tradition God supplies our need for spiritual food through ministry of others: an ordained person who blesses them with the words, "Send your Holy Spirit . . ." and people from this assembly who have felt called to assist in the distribution.

God's circle of interest and concern at this moment and in this place is us!  We are bringing from memory into reality the Last Supper of Jesus and his disciples.  We are also bringing what we believe will be God's feeding us in the future into present reality as well.  We have faith that God will provide whatever spiritual sustenance we need whenever we need it.

As we claim this faith, we can now become generous as God-in-Jesus was generous that day with the crowd.  Whatever we have to offer God will be sufficient.  God will take it and bless it. God will transform it as broken bread is transformed, so it can be given to all who need it.  Our task then will be to give generously from whatever God has blessed in us.

And, yes, Jesus did eventually retreat to be by himself.  The next two verses in Matthew say: "Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray."  He needed the comfort of the divine relationship in solitude.   Relationship in solitude also can be God's generous gift to us and provide another sort of spiritual sustenance.   So let us take and eat the food of spiritual sustenance we will receive at Holy Communion today, and then allow ourselves the space and time to experience God's presence as well.

* Sue Clemmer Steiner, “Reflections on the lectionary - Matthew 14: 13-21,” Christian Century (July 23, 2014) p. 21.

The 7th Sunday after Pentecost - At What Price the Pearl?

King James Version of Matt. 13: 45-46 - "Again the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man seeking goodly pearls: Who, when he has found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it."

The reason I chose to begin with the KJV is the way the pearl is described: "one pearl of great price."   The phrase "great price" evokes two ways of understanding that pearl: first, a very expensive gem stone made by an oyster and brought out of the ocean by a brave diver, as a sign of the amazingly wonderful relationship we will have with God--if we commit all to God or, second, something you desire so completely that you give all that you have to possess it--as in "What price are you willing to pay?"

The Rev. David Lose, a Lutheran pastor, describes Jesus’ parables in his blog, “In the meantime:”  

“Jesus’ parables remind us that the faith we preach and the kingdom we announce finally isn’t an intellectual idea but an experience, an experience of the creative and redemptive power of God that continues to change lives. And sometimes the only way to get beyond our head and into our hearts is to, as Emily Dickenson advised, “Tell all the truth but tell it slant.” And so parables come at us sideways, catching us by surprise to take our breath away at the beauty and depth of God’s promises.”

To come at this parable slant, I want to share the story of two lives with you.  They chose a pearl that many would say is no pearl at all, but I say it is. They each changed lives through an act of redemptive power.  This was the pearl they chose. In Jesus we believe the kingdom of heaven came here among us, but was not fully manifested.  In ways small and large we can recognize the reign of God is "already; not yet."  The "already" part of that phrase can lead us to choose to pay whatever price we need to pay for the pearl.

First, I was to tell you about Dr. Sheik Umar Khan. In Sierra Leone he headed a treatment facility for patients with the Ebola virus. The is a bad outbreak: Guinea - 310 deaths, 410 cases, Liberia - 116 deaths, 196 cases, Sierra Leone - 206 deaths, 442 cases.*

On Friday [7/25/14] during the NPR radio program, “All things considered,” Audie Cornish interviewed the doctor who hired Dr. Khan, Dr. Daniel Barusch.  Dr. Barusch, a researcher in tropical medicine at Tulane, said that he first recruited Dr. Khan 10 years ago to study another dread disease called Lassa fever.  He was so pleased to have a doctor of Dr. Khan’s caliber when many doctors were unwilling to undertake this dangerous work.  Many nurses are fearful and unwilling to work with these patients as well.  It is hard work to be so careful with procedures and to work in protective gear from head to toe in the tropical heat.  He spoke about what a positive attitude Dr. Khan has.  But now he has contracted the virus and is struggling for his life.

Now I want to tell you about Constance of Memphis [Tennessee] and her companions.  In 1878 a yellow fever epidemic raged.  Here is their story**:    “In August, 1878, Yellow Fever invaded the city of Memphis for the third time in ten years. By the month’s end the disease had become epidemic and a quarantine was ordered. While 30,000 citizens had fled in terror, 20,000 more remained to face the pestilence. As cases multiplied, death tolls averaged 200 daily. When the worst was over ninety percent of the population had contracted the Fever; more than 5,000 people had died.

“In that time of panic and flight, many brave men and women, both lay and cleric, remained at their posts of duty or came as volunteers to assist despite the terrible risk. Notable among these heroes were Constance, Superior of the work of the Sisters of St. Mary in Memphis, and her Companions. The Sisters had come to Memphis in 1873, at Bishop Quintard’s request, to found a Girls School adjacent to St. Mary’s Cathedral.

“When the 1878 epidemic began, George C. Harris, the Cathedral Dean, and Sister Constance immediately organized relief work among the stricken. Helping were six of Constance’s fellow Sisters of St. Mary; Sister Clare from St. Margaret’s House, Boston; the Reverend Charles C. Parsons, Rector of Grace and St. Lazarus Church, Memphis; and the Reverend Louis S. Schuyler, assistant at Holy Innocents, Hoboken. The Cathedral group also included three physicians, two of whom were ordained Episcopal priests, the Sisters’ two matrons, and several volunteer nurses from New York. 

“The Cathedral buildings were located in the most infected region of Memphis. Here, amid sweltering heat and scenes of indescribable horror, these men and women of God gave relief to the sick, comfort to the dying, and homes to the many orphaned children. Only two of the workers escaped the Fever. Among those who died were Constance, Thecla, Ruth and Frances, the Reverend Charles Parsons and the Reverend Louis Schuyler.”

The pearl that Dr. Khan and Constance and her companions purchased was the pearl of compassion for and service to those in desperate need. It cost them everything or in Dr. Khan’s case, perhaps almost everything.***  Yes, this is what the kingdom of heaven is like!

* BBC online 7/23/14

** http://liturgyandmusic.wordpress.com/2010/09/09/september-9-constance-nun-and-her-companions-commonly-called-%E2%80%9Cthe-martyrs-of-memphis%E2%80%9D-1878/

***Dr. Khan has died (July 29, 1914 – www.huffingtonpost.com).

The 6th Sunday after Pentecost - Tolerating Weeds??

The farming parable in the gospel reading from Matthew this week has a connection with actual concerns about the harvesting of wheat fields. Unlike the sower last week who cast seed without regard to the sort of soil where it would land, there is evidence that people may have been taking revenge on others or simply trying to spoil the harvest of a competitor by planting darnel seeds, a type of rye grass that looks like wheat in its early stages, in amongst the wheat seeds.  A Roman law prohibited the practice, which was most likely a response to planting darnel seeds.

Jesus opens this parable with the phrase:  "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to . . ."  A kingdom parable tells about how things will change from the way they are now to the way they will be when God reigns at "the end of the age."  As with the parable last week, Jesus explains what the parts of the parable mean--this time to his disciples who appear to want to be sure they understand--perhaps so they will be prepared to end up as one of the "shining" righteous.

Our interpretation of this parable and our concern about how we will end up can be found in the second verse of Hymn 290 - often sung at Thanksgiving:

All the world is God’s own field,

Fruit unto His praise to yield;

Wheat and tares together sown,

Unto joy or sorrow grown:

First the blade, and then the ear,

Then the full corn shall appear:

Lord of Harvest, grant that we

Wholesome grain and pure may be.

But what if our concern is not how we will end up, but how we are to manage until the harvest?  We are faced with the same dilemma the slaves of the householder encountered.  We find ourselves in situations where we believe something is wrong, where injustice appears to have the upper hand, where innocent people are being hurt.  Is Jesus suggesting that we should wait patiently, knowing that all turn out well in the end since God will judge "all causes of sin and all evildoers" and punish them?

The prophet Habakkuk (in the first chapter) could not abide waiting for God to act when his world is falling apart. He complains to God: "O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrong-doing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. So the law becomes slack and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous—therefore judgment comes forth perverted."

I think the world of the parable tells us simply one thing about taking action to remedy what we see as wrong:  Be cautious!  Don't act in a way that assumes you can tell who needs to be cast out. For your deciding what is good and what it bad and taking action may result in harm rather than benefit.  This parable teaches tolerance and bids us heed what may be the unintended consequences of our actions.

That being said, most situations that we face as people or as a nation don't fit easily into the mold of a kingdom parable—in large part because, unlike Jesus' disciples and Christians in the first half of the first century, we live in a way that shows we don’t believe the end of time—the “end of the age” in Matthew's words—will be here anytime soon.  Think of the insurance we buy and the savings we sock away for our later years.

Yet in the news we hear about situations that pull us into some sort of decision-making about who is good and who is bad.  To whom should we show compassion? Whom should we hold accountable with sanctions or with legal consequences?

Israel and Hamas are firing rockets at one another again.  Rebel separatists in eastern Ukraine, who have been given military equipment and training from Russia, may have shot down an airliner, killing almost 300 people who had nothing to do with their fight.  Immigrants under 18 who have no documentation are crossing into the United States as they seek to escape from the poverty and violence of their home countries.  We could come up with many more examples, I am sure.

As we express our opinions about what should be done and evaluate the effectiveness of our government's response, we'd do well to remember that actions can have good intentions (as in getting rid of the weeds) and still have disastrous outcomes (the uprooting of the wheat).  So let us be restrained in our judging and cautious in the actions we say should be taken in situations where good and bad appear to co-exist.  (There are situations where this is not true, but most situations we encounter will contain both good and bad.) For Jesus, righteousness does not require our always stamping what we see as evil. In a most outrageous way, he did tell us to love our enemies.