Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The 5th Sunday of Lent - "Sir, we wish to see Jesus."


“Sir, we wish to see Jesus,” some Greeks asked Philip. This request wasn’t surprising.  John reported that Jesus recently had raised Lazarus from the dead and had just entered Jerusalem to the acclaim of many people there.  John related how the people had greeted Jesus with palm branches, shouting “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord—the King of Israel!”

Yet John’s gospel doesn't say that Jesus ever met with the Greeks.  Rather he begins a discourse with Philip and Andrew—and most likely  with  others—verse 34 said “the crowd” answered him.  Jesus spoke about what was about to happen to him and what it meant.  Let’s look closely at some parts of his discourse and consider what we might think about it.

First, a grain of wheat dying to bear fruit:  an agricultural metaphor of common sense knowledge, but in this context it conflicts with the hope of a triumphant Messiah.  The grain is buried in the soil, nearly invisible, insignificant by itself.  Jesus appears this to confront the crowd’s and his disciples’ expectations with this image.

Then, God’s voice like thunder proclaiming that God’s name had been glorified and will be so again:  Now God’s voice or that of an angel speaks the truth about what will happen. God has been and will be glorified.  For the crowd, impressed by this auditory display of power—divine power, appears to cling to a messianic hope.

Finally, Jesus being lifted up and drawing all people to himself:  now the image shifts from a seed in the ground to the messiah being lifted up and drawing all people to him.  John has to explain to the people who will hear this gospel read that “being lifted up” means crucifixion, for what the crowd still expects and what will happen could not be more different.  What will happen through Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection and return to the God will be to fulfill what the Greeks (we would say Gentiles) desired, that is, to see Jesus.

Surely, by the time Jesus had finished this discourse his listeners must have been confused and, perhaps, distressed. We, on the other hand, with the advantage of knowing how it all came out can understand that Jesus will be the one to die so God’s name will be glorified, but is also the one who can heal the whole world by drawing everyone into God’s reign of justice and peace.

Seeing Jesus means seeing him both crucified and triumphant, to hold in your mind both the image of a crucifix and the image of an empty cross.  For me the Christus Rex cross helps me to truly see Jesus.  The Christus Rex (Christ the King) shows Jesus on a cross, but not slumped in death, but upright, with his arms extended to embrace the whole world. He also wears a crown.

Seeing Jesus here today will also mean seeing him in the laying on of hands for healing and in our feeding of our spirits in the bread and wine at Eucharist.  Not only does Jesus draw all people to himself, but he also draws each one of us through these acts, which exemplify his love.  My worthiness or the worthiness of people who assist me with the laying on of hands or distributing the wine cannot be our focus. We are here today exercising our various ministries not for our own glory.  We are here so you may look through us to see the One who calls you into relationship, so you may know the healing and life-giving power of his love.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

The 4th Sunday of Lent - What Nicodemus Wanted/What Nicodemus Got


The Gospel of John, Chapter 3

      Under the cover of darkness at night a Pharisee named Nicodemus came to ask Jesus who he was.  His question was a statement: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs apart from the presence of God.”
      According to John, Jesus doesn't ask Nicodemus to clarify his question.  He knows that Nicodemus wants Jesus to confirm the statement he just made.  And he may hope Jesus will reveal even more about himself.  What Jesus says, however, engages Nicodemus in a theological reflection about the longed for “kingdom of God.”  
      Jesus’ teaching about the kingdom extends from verse 3 of chapter 3 all the way to verse 21, the end of the chapter.  From these words modern Christians have taken the phrase “born again,” defined it to serve their purposes, and used it to whack other Christians up the side of the head to prove their worthiness and discount all other Christians.  Occasionally, maybe even often, Episcopalians have been on the receiving end of the whacking.
      The other words we Christians have extracted from Jesus’ teaching are the very familiar statement: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”  John 3:16.  Although this statement beautifully sums up why we follow Jesus, it too has been used by some Christians to decide who will be saved and who will be condemned for eternity.
      A United Church of Christ pastor, J. Bennett Guess, preaching on our Gospel lesson this morning, said, “Ironically, these very words that Jesus was speaking to a rigid and legalistic Pharisee, trying to help him see salvation more expansively, have become the very symbol of conditional, exclusive Christianity: ‘Accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, or go to hell for all eternity.’ That's basically what it boils down to.” 
     Some pastors stop reading this passage at the end of verse 17, because they worry that verse 18b (“. . . but those who do not believe [in the Son of Man] are condemned already.”) will lead to intolerant thoughts and behavior.
      I never like to stop struggling in interpreting a passage that presents difficulties.  In particular, are Jesus’ words in this conversation with Nicodemus supposed to exclude folks like Nicodemus? Or perhaps are they supposed to open Nicodemus’s heart to a new thing God might be doing, which will include him?  And, in addition, what can they teach us today about Jesus and about our faith?  Perhaps we should try to understand why Jesus approached Nicodemus the way he did by imagining that we are Nicodemus.  In that way we can enter this event in a deeper way.

         “I am Nicodemus. I’m well-educated and a member of the party of the Pharisees. We’re progressive—much more than the Sadducees—but we do believe the Law of Moses is important to protect.
          Yes, I know the buzz that this Nazarene teacher Jesus is creating.  And he does amazing deeds of power as well.  My colleagues and I are concerned about how influential he has become with the common folk. After all we are leaders by our inheritance from our forefathers who preserved our worship traditions.  He could upset things, maybe even start a riot, and then the Romans will come down on us hard.
And yet—and yet—what if he is a prophet from God?  What if he is the one who will restore us and, through the power of God, kick out our oppressors, the Romans.  I have wondered about this and am burning to confront him myself.  If he could convince me—maybe he could change his tactics a bit—no more overturning tables of the merchants at the Temple, for example—then he could convince my colleagues, too.
            What should I do?  Certainly not let anyone know what I’m doing!  So I’ll wait until it’s dark, and when I approach him—I’ll flatter him a bit before I throw a direct question at him. Well, Jesus didn’t let me get that far—he confronted me with his idea that a person must be born again or perhaps born anew or even born from above—in order to be prepared for God’s coming kingdom.
            What could he possibly mean with that crazy idea.  People are only born once! So I challenged him about how one can be born after having grown old.  Well, he just kept going on—he said being born from above means being born of the Spirit. 
            When I could no longer contain my consternation, in exasperation I asked, “How can these things be?”  Then Jesus really went after me.  He asked, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?”  Although he said it quietly, his point could not have been clearer.  He had called into question my understanding of God and God’s work in the world—even though I was more educated than he—AND I had the respect of my colleagues!
            But I could not turn away—his quiet authority, authority without pretension, compelled me to hear him out.  He spoke about the Son of Man healing the whole world.  God’s love was so great that no one need perish, but anyone who understood what God was doing—and responded in faith—could partake in God’s kingdom eternally.  Jesus compared God’s love to light, which will reveal those whose deeds are done in God.
            I felt my heart melt within me as recognized how much I was loved.  Yes, I will continue to keep the Law, but with a new spirit of openness to how God may be acting in this moment to draw ALL people to God’s kingdom.”

         So what Jesus sought in his challenging Nicodemus and in his teaching about God’s love was to broaden Nicodemus’ outlook about God.  God was known through scripture and the traditions of the Jewish people.  That would not change—but now God was continuing to reveal God’s self, so all people might be drawn into the life of Love Incarnate, Jesus.
         If anytime, we are tempted to use Jesus’s words into John 3 to exclude or separate someone from the circle of God’s love—to decide that they could never come accept the faith that we have accepted—then we should stop ourselves and remember what Nicodemus learned from his interaction with Jesus.
         How do we know Nicodemus was changed after his night visit to Jesus?  At the end of the 7th chapter of John, Nicodemus told his fellow Pharisees that they should give Jesus a fair hearing, before deciding he was wrong about God. Then in the 19th chapter, John reported that Nicodemus accompanied Joseph of Arimethea in preparing Jesus’ body for burial with myrrh and aloes.
         May God’s love call to us, as it called to Nicodemus that night.  When we find ourselves challenged by people who may come to God in other ways than we have, remember Nicodemus.  God’s love is so deep and so broad that all people can be embraced in God’s love now and eternally!

                                        Dr. Guess’ quote came from his Day 1 sermon for March 15, 2015.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

The 3rd Sunday in Lent - Overturned tables or stable tables??

John 2: 13-22

Rarely do I tell a joke at the beginning of my sermon—actually I use very few jokes in any event.  It’s too easy to keep chuckling about the joke mentally and letting your mind wander.  But I’m taking the risk today, because this the perfect joke for Lent.  It’s perfect in that it frames the tension of between our fears of judgment and our faith.
Here it is:  The worship service has ended. The priest stands in the front doorway, shaking hands with parishioners as they leave. A mother, father and son have come down the steps and are walking away, perhaps to their car or to coffee hour in another building.  The child tugs on his dad’s sleeve to get his attention.  Then he asks, “Just WHEN were you going to tell me about hell?”
In medieval times we know that the church offered the faithful indulgences to free them from a certain amount of time in purgatory and prevent them from going to hell for their sins. Of course, these indulgences were sold to raise money to support the church. In Judaism from ancient times and in other religions, too, animals were sacrificed as a way to express one’s faith, garner favor with the divine and feed the leaders of ritual practices. By the time of Jesus, people were asked to contribute money as well.  The problem with the Roman coinage could be described as violating the second commandment about making idols.  The coins had Caesar’s image, a sacrilege if brought into the inner courts of the Temple to pay the temple tax.
The Protestant Reformation changed the way we understood the salvation of humanity.  Martin Luther, a leading reformer, taught that humanity was not earned, but given by God without merit by good deeds on our part.  He said it was God’s free gift of grace through faith in Jesus Christ as our redeemer from sin. Heaven is gained, and hell can be dodged through our faith.
Given Jesus’ prophetic anger at those merchants who assisted pilgrims and worshippers to meet the requirements of their religious expression—which by the way is in all four gospels—perhaps we should pause to think about our religious expression.  How do we understand appropriate religious expression? Why do we do we express ourselves in these ways?
Today I’d like to use the image of a table to answer these questions.  Since sometimes we call the altar a table—and since the altar in our worship space looks like a table with supporting legs—I think we can make this image work for us.
Religious expression that would be pleasing to Jesus might be seen as a “stable table” supported at each corner by a leg.  If one of those legs is missing, it becomes an “unstable table,” perhaps not collapsing immediately, but in significant trouble. I am calling these four legs:  covenant law, the life-affirming ethical and moral practices in our society, worship in community, faith in God’s lovingkindness.
The first leg is covenant law, seen in the Hebrew Scriptures, called the Mosaic covenant.  Our first reading began today: “God spoke all these words [of law] . . .” God’s law was a gift to the Israelites to show his care for them.  Entering into covenant with God by trying to obey these words would lead both the Israelites--and us--into a close relationship with God and into healthy relationships with other people, which then will lead to abundant life.
The second leg is life-affirming ethical and moral practices in our society today.  Some practices, which appear in the Bible, such as slavery, were acceptable for thousands of years, but have now been condemned. We have come to understand that we should consider every other person as worthy of our respect, although we don’t always manage to do this. We remember our baptismal covenant includes these questions: “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?  Will you strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of EVERY human being?”  We know we should treat each person as worthy of God’s love and our care.  We should work to structure our society so that all people can access the abundance with which many of us are blessed. These “corporal works of mercy” do not earn us salvation, but through them we gratefully respond to the blessings we have received.
The third leg is worshipping God in community. You have come together here at St. Nicholas this morning to pray to God, to sing praise to God, to experience the presence of God in the blessed bread and wine, and to support our brothers and sisters in their journey of faith. I believe God finds joy in experiencing the love we show when we worship together—love for God, and, yes, for each other as well.
The fourth leg is faith in God’s lovingkindness—chesed is the word in the Hebrew Scriptures. Acting out of this love for us, God became incarnate in Jesus—became truly human.  For our sake Jesus endured crucifixion out of love. He overcame death through the power of God’s love. We cannot see God as long as we live here on earth, but our faith in God’s loving presence allows us to face whatever life throws at us. In the end God’s loving grace will keep our sins from having the last word.
So how stable does our table seem to be today?  Are we trying to obey God’s covenant law in a way that reflects the loving way God intended it?  Are we also trying to follow the life-affirming ethical and moral practices in our society? Are we eager to worship with others? Are we able to cling to our faith in God’s lovingkindness despite life’s difficulties? 
When we are able—with God’s help—to discover how to keep those four legs attached to our table of religious expression, then that “stable table” will become God’s altar in our hearts. And, yes, Jesus will be pleased!

Monday, November 24, 2014

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."

Friday, September 26, 2014

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?

Thursday, September 18, 2014

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!

Monday, September 8, 2014

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.