The 7th Sunday of Easter - To be one? To be pulled ahead?

"As you, Father, are in me, and I am in you, may they also be in us . . ."  Jesus prayed for the relationship between the people who would hear about his life, death and resurrection from the disciples who had been with him and God from whom he had come.  As you heard just a few seconds ago, I pray for this mutual indwelling of God with us and we with God before I preach.  When I say, "Help us to live in your holy Word," I am using the image of Jesus as the Word of God from the very first lines of the Gospel of John.  I pray this way before I preach, because I believe that through this mutual indwelling God will convey what meaning you are to gain from my "breaking open" the Word of holy scripture as I preach.

Besides the mutual indwelling Jesus prayed for in the gospel reading we heard this morning, Jesus also prayed for unity based on the power of divine love:  ". . . I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me."  Peter Carman, a Baptist pastor, makes it clear what sort of unity Christians should practice:  ". . . Jesus does not call for doctrinal unity, organizational unity or political unity . . . This prayer is for unity that grows out of the love of God, received and shared among his followers, leading to an experienced unity in love between Jesus and his followers, and with the one from whom Christ comes."

So, the community of faith—both locally (St. Nicholas') and in larger and larger geographic units—must carefully tread between finding ways to work together to accomplish ministry and mission in Jesus' name and focusing on the life of the organization as the most important entity to preserve.  Our Episcopal tradition gets this right through our polity of elected leadership and our liturgical tradition of celebrating the sacraments as Christians have through the ages.  This allows us to have diverse opinions about almost everything, but to come together each week to be fed by Christ in the fellowship of others who are beloved of God.   You may remember Robin Williams' top reasons for becoming an Episcopalian.  One of these says, "No matter what you believe, there is at least one other Episcopalian who agrees with you."

But what we do get wrong on occasion—and I think this fault has been shared broadly among Christian communities—that is, we become a bit complacent about the status quo or we view times in the past as being best.  Don't ask me to change how I look at things because I'm certain I'm right. Rob Bell speaks to this issue in this new book, What We Talk About When We Talk About God.  In Chapter 6 entitled "Ahead" he writes, "I want to explore with you the God who I believe is pulling us forward.  Is this how you've heard God described?  Ahead? Pulling us forward?  Is God progressive, with a better more inspiring vision for our future than we could ever imagine, or is God behind, back there in the past, endlessly trying to get us to return to how it used to be?"  I might phrase it this way; does returning to Eden mean working and praying for the reign of God in a new Jerusalem?  Or does it mean longing for some time in human history where things were just the way they were supposed to be?  Or does it mean holding tight to the way things are right now because our society looks as if it's going to only change for the worse?

The two stories we heard from the book of Acts address these very issues:  to what sort of life is God pulling us ahead? And how does God's indwelling love affect our decisions and our actions?

Although the slave girl who could tell the tell the future and recognized the nature of Paul and Silas's mission disappears from the narrative, we know she no longer bears the burden of being treated as a commodity.  Despite St. Paul eventually finding her prophesying annoying, he treated her as a human being who needed to be freed from oppression--both spiritual and economic.  Through Paul's healing ministry she was pulled ahead by God to a new life situation.  Did her life become better as a result?  We are left without an answer to that question.  Being free to pursue a new path can be frightening, because familiar situations can no longer provide stability.  However, even if she remained a slave, she might have been given work that allowed her more dignity.

The narrative of Paul, the earthquake, and the jailer provided an illustration God's love affecting an extremely important decision.  Because he and all the other prisoners were unexpectedly freed from prison and did not run away, we see Paul placing another's needs before his own. Losing prisoners, even through an event in nature, would have led to punishment for the jailer, perhaps execution. Paul's decision to stay and convince the others to do the same could only have come from the indwelling spirit of love, placed there by God.

And when the jailer asks what must he do to be saved, the question carries two meanings.  First, "What must I now do so you and the other prisoners won't flee?"  But the meaning Paul gave to the jailer’s question was this: "What must I do to gain a new life in Christ that you have been talking, singing, and praying about?” The power of Paul's witness broke down the barrier between jailer and prisoner.  They were now united in Christ--joined together as one, despite the differences between them. God, through Paul, pulled the jailer—and his family—ahead, leading them to a future that gave new meaning to their lives, one that they had not expected, for sure!

So how are we to face our futures? Perhaps like the slave girl and the jailer we may find God tugging us, pulling us ahead of where we always thought we would be.  How should we respond?  Whatever actions we choose, let us act so that the people we encounter in the world may know that God has sent us and loves them even as God has loved us.  In doing this, we can embrace what God began in Jesus and continues in us--eternal life marked by peace, justice and healing.

The quote from Peter Carman can be found in Feasting on the Word, Year C,Vol. 2, p.544.

The 6th Sunday of Easter - Keeping Jesus' Word

  Jesus said, "You have heard me say, 'I am going away.'" Then he added after the briefest of pauses, " . . . and I am coming to you." Jesus and his followers were experiencing a liminal moment.  The word "liminal" refers to a time of transition, a threshold between one place or state and another.  For example, our two high school seniors will leave one educational setting and pass through the threshold of another--college. Their friends, unless they will attend the same college, may experience their absence as an empty place in their lives--at least for a while until new friendships are formed.  Even then the memory of the relationship may always occupy a special place in their thoughts.  And sometimes the old friendships may be renewed as they catch up with one another when they meet again after the absence.

Liminal moments in our lives can be exciting, hopeful times, or they can be sad, scary times. Jesus recognized his leave-taking would be a difficult one for his disciples. His words, as remembered and written down by the gospel writer, attempt to provide a framework to understand the absence his disciples will experience from a sad, scary time into an exciting, hopeful time. In the Gospel of John this discourse between Jesus and his disciples occurs before his arrest and execution.  

As Jesus responds to a series of questions from the disciples, he appears to be trying to inoculate them against the distress they will feel shortly.  These questions all appear prior to the section of the gospel read today. Simon Peter begins the series of questions at the very end of chapter 13:  "Lord, where are you going?" Then Thomas asks, "Lord we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?"  Then Philip chimes in, "Lord, show us the father and we shall be satisfied."  Finally, Judas (not Iscariot) asks, "How is it that you will reveal yourself to us and not to the world?"

         His disciples are pushing Jesus throughout this discourse, because they perceived he lacked clarity in explaining himself or in revealing who he is.  Today we have the advantage of 20/20 hindsight in claiming Jesus is the Messiah of God, the second person of the Trinity.  Yet, in this farewell discourse for those disciples--and even today for us--Jesus defines the most important way to show one knows who he is, that is, to love him by "keeping his word."

He explains "keeping his word" as a covenant-like relationship: keep his word and he will do these things for you.  God will make God' s home with you; the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, will come to teach you all you need to know and to remind of what Jesus had taught; and the peace of God will be given to you.

So if we want to be in relationship with God, we need to figure out what "keeping his word" means.  We know, of course, that Jesus said all the law and the prophets could be summed up in the two great commandments--love God and love those whom God has made, your neighbor--even a "neighbor" who is outside your usual definition of neighbor.  And the love Jesus teaches cannot come from self-interest, but from emptying yourself of self-centeredness.  It's the love he tried to teach the rich young ruler--go “sell” all that you have that keeps you self-centered--in his case, his wealth.

This "keeping his word" cannot be done through our own strength and will.  Self-interest infects our motivation almost all--if not all-- the time.  When I made the mistake of saying that if someone had acted from purer motives a problem would not have occurred, my seminary professor corrected me saying that we always make decisions with mixed motives.

So what should we do?  How can we show our love for Jesus by keeping his word?  I believe we have two examples of “keeping Jesus' word” in the reading from Acts.  First, Paul believed he received a call from God in a vision. He traveled where he thought he was supposed to go. Then when he arrived at Philippi, he kept the Sabbath by going where he thought folks might be praying.  Paul allowed himself to be led by God to someone he might have never encountered had he stayed safely in Antioch where he had successfully delivered a well-received message from the church in Jerusalem.  Paul stepped out in trust, hoping for and expecting God's blessing on his work. 

The other example of "keeping Jesus word" was Lydia.  She had come to know God and had gone with other women to gather for prayer.  But when she heard Paul speak about Jesus something happened in her heart.  Luke, who wrote the book of Acts, described what happened as "[t]he Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly."  To be led to listen and to take good teaching to heart was how Lydia kept Jesus’ word. Then after she and her household were baptized, she gave out of her abundance—for she was a prosperous merchant, offering the hospitality of her home to Paul and Silas.  Her openness to the new teaching was a gift from God.  Her response was to give generously to the teachers God had sent.  

How then are we supposed to demonstrate our love for Jesus by keeping his word?  We could do worse than patterning ourselves after Paul and after Lydia.  In order to follow their examples we might ask ourselves these questions: How can we realize God may be opening our heart to something new?  What will our generous response be?  Where and how can we step out in trust, hoping for and believing in God's blessing on our work?  Perhaps we can discern answers for ourselves as individuals, but I hope we will be able to answer them together as a congregation. Together how can we realize that God may be opening our heart to something new?  What will our generous response be?  Together where might we step out in trust, hoping for and believing in God's blessing on our work?

The 5th Sunday after Easter - To Banish Barriers

For three Sundays this month we have engaged in Holy Conversations.  These conversations centered on topics important in our society today: solemnizing civil unions, repeal of the death penalty, and today--guns and the problem of violence.  In this post-modern world--a world where we no longer believe that human civilization is continually improving--we find that people of good will and a strong faith in Jesus Christ do not agree on how these social issues should be addressed.  How can this be? Shouldn't we be able to consult the Word of God and all come down at the same place? Apparently not.

And we shouldn't be surprised at this state of affairs either.  Our reading from the Book of Acts about Peter's vision in the city of Joppa deals with the conflict between certain religious practices and a different way of looking at scripture and tradition.

This is a small portion of the Jewish dietary laws from the 11th chapter of Leviticus: "Now the LORD spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying to them, 'Speak to the children of Israel, saying, "These are the animals which you may eat among all the animals that are on the earth: Among the animals, whatever divides the hoof, having cloven hooves and chewing the cud; that you may eat. Nevertheless these you shall not eat among those that chew the cud or those that have cloven hooves: the camel, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you; the rock hyrax, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you; the hare, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you; and the swine, though it divides the hoof, having cloven hooves, yet does not chew the cud, is unclean to you. Their flesh you shall not eat, and their carcasses you shall not touch. They are unclean to you.'"

The dietary laws of Leviticus and the Jewish tradition of not sharing a meal with Gentiles who did not have to observe such laws put Peter's belief that he was to share the good news of Jesus Christ with all people under great tension.  How far did Christians who came from the Jewish faith have to go from their usual practices in order to accommodate Gentiles?

As we have discovered in our Holy Conversations this concern about changing cultural norms and our response to them as people of faith continues to this day.  In 1951 an American theologian named Richard Niebuhr published a book entitled, "Christ and Culture."  In it he described ways in which Christians have dealt with the cultures in which the they lived.  The backdrop for this book was the Holocaust when the official state church in Germany did not oppose the rise of the Nazis.

Niebuhr saw Christians as taking various stands concerning culture throughout history, the earliest stand being against the culture of Roman civilization in the first century of the Common Era.  At the time depicted in our reading from the Book of Acts Peter believes his encounter with God in the vision of the sheet with "unclean animals" was leading him to set Christ against the religious and cultural norms of the Judaism.  Later St. Paul would deal with the issue of taking a stand against cultural practice in the context of the pagan culture where meat that had been offered to idols could be served at meals where Gentile Christians would be present. In both instances being a faithful Christian meant acting in a way that would bring you into conflict with current cultural practices.  Christians were supposed to act in a way that set themselves apart--which meant they, like Jesus, might expose themselves the wrath of those in power.

We are no longer living in the world of first century Palestine controlled by the Roman Empire.  We are not breaking away from mainstream Judaism to practice our faith in Jesus of Nazareth as the Son of God.  If any of us today is asked to describe the culture in which we live, we may well come up with as many different answers as there are people in this room.  However, the question remains: how will we practice our faith in the world--in the community--in the family--where we live?

I believe our readings this morning/evening are directing us not to "circle the wagons."  There may be something "new" to which God may be guiding us.  Even more than today, people in the first century disliked change. Tradition had great value; something new could not be trusted. Yet Peter insisted he now finally understood what God wanted.  Here is what he said: "The Spirit told me to go with them [the Gentiles from Caesarea] and not to make a distinction between them and us . . . And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell on them [the Gentile household which Peter had entered] just as it had on us at the beginning . . . If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in The Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?"

All these were part of Peter's understanding about this new approach: an unexpected vision, listening to God's leading through the power of the Holy Spirit, and not rejecting the request of people he might have dismissed as outside God's blessing.  Peter's example enacts what Jesus taught the disciples after Judas had left the last supper: "Just as I have loved you, so you should love one another."

Jesus called this the "new commandment," because it created a community based not primarily on holiness, but on agape--a love that empties us of selfishness and propels us into community where we can be free to accept even folks who may be quite different from us. How might we put Peter's example into practice today?  Who is it that we should no longer make a distinction between them and us? And to whom can we offer in unselfish love in order to build a community among us?  Let us ponder these questions as we consider how we--as followers of Jesus Christ--should respond to the cultures (both local and world-wide) in which we live.