The 14th Sunday after Pentecost - Being Transformed: Healing and Baptism

Have you ever wanted to be set free from what ails you?  All of us suffer--sometimes acutely, sometimes chronically, sometimes both.  When we suffer, we seek to have our suffering ended.  We seek a cure for our ailment.  In modern times we do not view suffering as a punishment for our sinfulness.  But we seek the cause of our ailments in hopes of discovering a cure to end our suffering.

If we cannot solve the puzzle of what is causing our suffering, we hope for a miracle.  And here's where it gets tricky for modern people, often we view certain folks as deserving a miracle.  An unexplained cure should come to those who have lived righteously or to those who have a strong faith or to those who have been prayed for by many people.  But miracles, unexplained by definition, are more often than not shrouded in mystery.  People who receive them appear no more worthy than someone who does not receive them--sometimes less worthy, even.

         The idea of mystery as pervading both our spiritual and physical lives can be seen in our scriptures for today.  "You have not come to something that can be touched . . ." begins the passage from the Letter to the Hebrews.  The holy mystery we believe surrounds our sacramental actions, such a being baptized or receive holy communion, have both outward signs which we can see--water, bread and wine--but also an inward and spiritual grace--an action God takes to draw us into the life God intends for us.

The woman in the story we heard from Luke's gospel today was weak and bent over.  Jesus' words that declared her "set free" and his laying hands on her are outward signs of an inward transformation that allowed this daughter of Abraham to lead the healed life God intended for her.  Yes, for her the miracle of no longer suffering--Luke calls it being "cured"--meant a freedom she had not felt in eighteen years.  All that time her ailment made her unclean and allowed her community to consider her a sinner bound by evil she or an ancestor had committed.  After Jesus touched her, the community that witnessed this rejoiced, according to Luke.

Rejoicing in the miracle also means celebrating the mystery of how God draws us to God's self.  Today we are rejoicing in the miracle of M--'s birth and his family's love for him.  More than that we are rejoicing in and we are naming God's action in M--'s life and in L--'s and R--'s lives--and in the lives of M--'s family and friends who have gathered here today. Our prayer book in the prayer of "Thanksgiving over the Water"--which you will hear in a few minutes--declares how God acts in this moment: "In it (the water) we are buried with Christ in his death.  By it we share in his resurrection.  Through it we are reborn by the Holy Spirit." 

The mystery of new birth in Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit is what we are declaring in M--'s life today. From this moment on, no matter how well his life goes, no matter what wonderful or difficult moments it contains, M-- will be marked as Christ's own forever.  God will be ever reaching out to him through the community of love--his family and friends--that surrounds him this day and which will nurture him in the days to come.

The Letter to the Hebrews expresses this mystery of new life as God's shaking the earth and being a "consuming fire.  These are images that our scriptures often associate with the end of time, images of God's revealing God's self to redeem creation from whatever separates us from God, which our theology calls “evil.”  Yet they are also images of transformation and new life for which we should give thanks: "Therefore since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God and acceptable worship with reverence and awe."

Although we understand God's grace to be a source of comfort and strength--and it is--both our scripture and our theology contain images of God's grace in transforming us that are frightening: being "buried" in the water of baptism, being shaken to remove what is unworthy, and being refined by fire of our evil tendencies.  These frightening images, metaphors for what we experience in life, show the tension that we enter when we become part of Christ's body through baptism.

M--, through his parents' promises, and we, through our renewal of the baptismal promises, willing open ourselves to God as God reaches out to us in the tension between love and transformation.  So let us rejoice; let us offer to God acceptable worship with reverence and awe; let us allow God's love to transform us and sustain us, as God draws us closer and closer to God’s self and to the healed and redeemed life God intends for each of us.

The 12th Sunday after Pentecost - Fear Will Be Overcome By Hope

Jesus said to his disciples, "Do not be afraid, little flock . . ."  What were the disciples afraid of? And what are each of us afraid of?  This question of fear affects the choices we make in every sphere of our lives.  Some of our fears are everyday sorts of fears: spiders, snakes, crowds, flying on airplanes, bacteria and viruses--you can add to this list, I'm sure.  Other fears concern bigger issues: we fear growing old and losing our health; we fear someone we love having a serious accident or getting a dread disease, we fear losing our job or our pension, we fear serious life events after which we will never be the same. Then there what we might call the existential fears: Do our lives have meaning? Is there more than just what we know in our world--which is often quite horrible?  How will it all end?

Physicists tell us that the components of our universe are traveling apart from each other at accelerating speed.  According to recent measurements, our descendants many, many years from now will look in the sky at night and see only darkness.  That's something I would fear, for I want my descendants to be able to look at the stars in the sky as Abram did and not be able to count them all.  I also fear, because I really don’t understand what all this means.  Here is the explanation of this phenomenon that shows its complexity and doesn't quiet my fears a bit: "The metric expansion of space is the increase of the distance between two distant parts of the universe with time. It is an intrinsic expansion whereby the scale of space itself is changed. That is, a metric expansion is defined by an increase in distance between parts of the universe even without those parts "moving" anywhere."  I want a universe that behaves in stable, not in strange, ways--but that isn't what we have been given.

T. S. Eliot, a twentieth century poet, wrote a poem called, "Hollow Men," in 1925, after the horror of trench warfare in World War I, but before the nuclear age when world-wide annihilation became possible.  He writes of a "Shadow" falling cross the futile lives of humanity and describes the end of existence this way:

“This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.”

(The Collected Poems and Plays: 1909 - 1950  - NYC: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1952, p. 59)

Robert Frost writing in 1920 takes a point of view similar to Eliot's:

“Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,   

Some say in ice.   

From what I’ve tasted of desire        

I hold with those who favor fire.       

But if it had to perish twice,     

I think I know enough of hate  

To know that for destruction ice       

Is also great

And would suffice.”

(From Harper’s Magazine, December 1920.)

Jesus speaks with quite a different tone about the end of time, which he calls "the kingdom" of God.  Jewish tradition taught that God's reign and the defeat of all who opposed God's reign would be heralded by the arrival of the Messiah.  Especially, the Roman oppressors would be conquered.  Those who occupied the bottom tier of society would be elevated in God's reign.  Remember Mary's song that we now call "Magnificat:"  [God] has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. [God] has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty."  That's what Jesus' disciples were hoping for when he told them not be afraid, "for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."

Hope which can overcome our fears: that's what Jesus taught the disciples to practice in the passage we heard today from Luke.  To be ready, to have your lamps lit, to be attentive for the return of the master--these are all ways of saying, "Be hopeful for what will come next."  The hope-filled image of the master serving the slaves held incredible, if puzzling, power for the disciples.  In the account of the final meal with his disciples in John's gospel, Jesus enacts this parable much to Peter's consternation.

Hope can sustain us when we face the difficulties of life that come to us all.  Our "unfailing treasure in heaven" kept in "purses . . that do not wear out . ." symbolizes our hope and our trust in God's abundant love for us.  God's love can shield us from our fears that will lead to distrust and despair.  Jesus' life and teaching, his death and resurrection provided the disciples--and provides us--with assurance of God's love for us.

All this can be summed up in the definition of faith that opens the 11th chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews: "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."  Yes, we have been told about the confusing nature of the cosmos.  We have witnessed, and will continue to witness, the shadow side of human nature and the destructive force of hatred.  But we come to faith in Jesus Christ as the Holy One who has shown us hope.  He provides the assurance of things hoped for.  Through him we become convicted of God's abundant and unfailing love.  Because of Jesus Christ we know that our fears will not have the final word.  God's love will!

The 11th Sunday after Pentecost - Eat, Drink and be Merry?

So what did you think of the parable of "The Rich Fool?"  That was then; this is now?  Or given my situation, I'm never going to have to build bigger barns?  Or using what is called a "resistant" interpretation, we could ask what is so wrong with being a successful landowner or farmer?  What's so wrong with eating, drinking and being merry--especially since I worked hard to earn enough to do these things?

"Having wisdom" or "being wise" had a high value in the Jewish tradition--perhaps an even higher value than being rich.  We find several books in the Hebrew Scriptures that offer guidance in this regard.  Proverbs and Ecclesiastes give the most direct advice. Certain psalms contain information about living wisely.

In the eighth chapter of Ecclesiastes we find this advice: "So I commend enjoyment because there's nothing better for people to do under the sun but to eat, drink, and be glad.  This is what will accompany them in their hard work during the lifetime that God gives under the sun."  The writer continues by speaking about the futility of understanding what God is up to here on earth.

Since human life requires such hard work to sustain ourselves, then shouldn't we balance that with some pleasure.  So what the rich man does in building bigger barn, so he can later kick back a bit, doesn't seem that outrageous.  Yet in the twenty-second chapter of Isaiah, we hear an oracle or prophecy of Isaiah's decrying having a party in the face of an invasion by the enemy:  "The Lord God of heavenly forces called on that day for weeping and mourning, and shaven heads, and wearing mourning clothes.  But instead there was fun and frivolity, killing of cattle and slaughtering of sheep, eating of meat and drinking of wine. 'Eat and drink! Tomorrow we will die.'"  In contrast to these activities as part of a balanced life, they are placed in a context of denial and fatalism.  The attitude Isaiah described might go like this: "It isn't going to get any better--perhaps it get a lot worse, it may even be dreadful—so let's enjoy ourselves as long as we can.  God called for acts of contrition and repentance, but what would that get us?”

In the parable about the rich fool, Jesus puts slant on this behavior of eating, drinking and being merry that's different than either of these other points of view.  Jesus isn't speaking about balanced life.  He isn't speaking about escapism from a dreadful fate.  He's talking about how life should be lived with the wealth or gifts or talents we have been given.  He's calling into question what that rich man should call his own.

One the important issues in your life when you're two-years-old is what is yours and what belongs to others.  When my daughter-in-law prepared for my grandson's two-year-old birthday party, she made these amazing party favors. Each child got a plastic pail with his or her name on it and filled with tools to dig in the sand.  When I visited the day before the party, Jacob was saying, "Mine? Mine?" when his mother showed them to me.  His mother explained they were for Abby and Reid who were coming to his party.  He accepted that explanation sort of . . . Over the two months since the party I've noticed that he often classifies things by their owner: Mommy's shoes, Daddy's phone, Grammie's hat and so on.  He accepts that not everything can be his--although he will push the point if he really wants something.

In the gospel reading for today we heard about a man pushing the point about something he claimed as his.  He asked Jesus to speak to his brother about the fair division of an inheritance they were to receive.  This would have been a legitimate request to a religious authority.  But Jesus turned this request into an occasion for teaching people in the crowd about greed.  Jesus was looking deeper into the motivation of someone who had all that he could use and more.  Jesus' teaching defined greed in an unusual way.  In this parable greed wasn't trying to get more than your share.  Greed was holding onto more than you needed and failing to recognize that your abundance came from using the gifts God had given you--in the landowner's case, the good weather and the rich soil, and his talent in working the soil.  Not only did the rich man's lack of gratitude make him "foolish," but also his cluelessness about the transitory nature of life and his possessions made his desire for bigger barns seem all the more unworthy.

As we consider our own situations (which are not really like the rich man’s) in the light of this parable, what is the best we can hope for?  Perhaps it is this: to live in such a way that all people have the opportunity to use the talents God has given them in a society that allows them to earn enough so everyone can eat, drink and be merry--so everyone can, for example, have a wonderful celebration like Jacob's birthday party.  "Being rich toward God" in terms of this parable isn't talking about personal piety, but rather a spirit of generosity toward those who are in need.  For after all, in the end, the stuff or treasure that we clutch so tightly, whose will they be?  Jesus was teaching the crowd to open their hands as a different way to be rich--rich in giving, for nothing else truly lasts.

The 10th Sunday after Pentecost - Live Your Lives in Jesus (The Lord's Prayer)

"Live your lives in [Jesus], rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."  Prayer is part of our life in Jesus.  (Colossians 2: 6)

Prayer comes in all sorts of forms: spoken or silent; petitions for ourselves or intercession a for others; holy reading (lectio divina) or ecstatic utterance (speaking in tongues); foxhole prayers or reading the daily office; and perhaps the most common form are described by writer Anne Lamott as "Help, help, help" and "Thank you, thank you."

Although Teresa of Avila recommended that we be friends with God by spending time with God in silent prayer, unoccupied by our own thoughts or words, waiting for God to reveal God's self, many of us, like the disciples of Jesus, most often use words.  What should those words be?   We can think of them as three movements of prayer in our lives with divine encouragement.

The first movement concerns God:  When asked by his disciples how they should pray, Jesus said: Address God as the Holy One for whose reign we pray.  We often cast God in our own image, but God is other--although personal in that God cares and loves us, but not a person as we are people.  Modern theology also depicts God as containing all existence within God's self--panentheism--a way of saying that our words are weak attempts to talk about the mystery of our Creator who has redeemed us and constantly endeavors to draw us to God's self.  Paul writes in Colossians, "For in [Jesus] the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him. . . "

So - "Live your lives in [Jesus], rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."

The second movement concerns ourselves:  Jesus told the disciples to make this request for themselves:  "Give us each day our daily bread."  Daily bread - for ourselves, what we need to sustain our lives - not for a week or a month or a year, but for today. Yesterday has passed; tomorrow isn't here yet.  We need to be strengthened today for whatever lies in our path.

Our request for daily bread isn't for "stuff" in our lives. Our petition grows out of our recognition of our "need."   In the New Zealand prayer book on version of this prayer says, "With the bread we need for today, feed us."  Our bodies need nourishment, and our spirits do as well.  We pray to God for all that we need.

So - "Live your lives in [Jesus] rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."

The third movement concerns how we live in community:  Jesus told the disciples to ask for forgiveness when they has messed things up, "And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.". Whether it's in this parish or in your family or in the larger community, someone will mess up something that you feel is important and will "owe" you something.  Maybe that something is greater respect, maybe that something is an apology, because we have been offended in some way.  In these instances, for the well-being of the community and the establishment of God's reign, Jesus calls on us to forgive as God forgives.  We're not talking about big offenses here, but daily moments--as in recognizing in the moment that the well-being of the community demands our not requiring the person to pay the "debt."  We can say "no problem" about the issue and the person to ourselves and truly mean it.

So - "Live your lives in [Jesus], rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."

And finally, divine encouragement to pray: "Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you . . ."   Be persistent in opening what is on your heart to God.  Praise God for your life and all creation.  Ask for what you need to be strengthened today.  Offer forgiveness to make the communities where we live--the family, parish and larger world--more respectful and peaceful. Never give up; never give up.

So - "Live your lives in [Jesus], rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."  Thank you, thank you!