October 16, 2022

Proper 24C – George Yandell

In Luke’s gospel, women speak 15 times. Their words are given 10 times and not given 5 times. In contrast, men speak 100’s of times. There is a virtual din of male voices. But the number of women depicted in Luke and the emphasis on their presence in the narrative are surprising. There is a notable tendency in Luke to defend, reassure, and praise women, compared to the other gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. Many of the passages presuppose their economic helplessness in a male-dominated society. [Adapted from Women’s Bible Commentary, Newsome et al editors, pp. 497 & 499.] I see them as standing for all the destitute people of Jesus’ day and place. Yet they often challenged the powers that were.

Today’s parable is often called the “Parable of the Unjust Judge,” but it could also be called the “Parable of the Pushy, Nagging Widow.” Did you notice she didn’t come on with flattery for the judge? There was no: “Oh noble and just sir, may I humbly ask you for your favor”! No! She came in shouting “Vindicate me!” And she kept it up until she wore down that shameless man. She was praying.

I think we often trivialize prayer by limiting it to what Phillips Brooks once called rather breezily “a wish turned heavenward.” God isn’t room service and I think God, like us, is not moved by wishing upon a star. Prayer, like faith, has to be integral to our being. Passionate. God expects not petitions but relationships. God expects us to be really there when we engage God. A prayer once uttered by St. Teresa of Avila says: “Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, it is no wonder you have so few of them!” Perhaps not the most pious of prayers, but she was full with God and she was fully engaged even if somewhat angry.  

We have really to put ourselves into prayer to hear and be heard. Once a student had been visiting a retreat house and met with her spiritual advisor before leaving. “Why,” she asked, “has my stay here yielded no fruit?” “Perhaps,” the advisor replied, “because you have lacked the courage to shake the tree.” This is important not only for our prayer lives, but also for taking God’s Presence into the world. God intends us to cooperate with God through our own faith and prayer and actions. The church has inherited the role of judges to pray and work with God collectively to bring mercy and justice into the world and to ensure that the community protects those most in need of special protection. [The above 3 paragraphs adapted from William J. Albinger in Oct. 2013 Synthesis.] 

The late Henri Nouwen believed that Christians need to stand up publicly against all that goes against God’s love, including war, poverty, and weapons of mass destruction. He wrote: “True prayer always includes becoming poor. When we pray we stand naked and vulnerable in front of Our Lord and show God our true condition. If one were to do this not just for oneself, but in the name of the thousands of poor people surrounding us, wouldn’t that be ‘mission’ in the true sense of being sent into the world as Jesus himself was sent into the world?”

Jesus uses the example of an official who is corrupt in using his judicial power to teach us about the reliability of God. The judge who “neither feared God nor had respect for people” resembles the modern ideal of disinterested jurist—impartial and unbiased, without prejudice and superstition. Should he be seeking election to the bench, we might vote for him. Yet Luke calls him “corrupt.” Whatever responsibility he had to the greater community to mete out justice, the judge had a special obligation to see that these “little ones”—such as widows without means of honest livelihood—received their just treatment.  

The widow keeps coming to the judge with a plea for simple justice against her adversary. She seeks only what is her due. We do not see him taking the facts into account. But the widow continues to come to him and the judge knows he is being backed into a corner and must do something.

The perfect secular leader can be influenced neither by public opinion nor by religious principle; and yet this widow is able to get to him by hammering away. And so—how much more will the God of mercy be ready to come to the aid of those who are seeking help? The parable is one of contrasts and just desserts. But its central message admonishes us to pray with that very persistence.

We need to pray, not to inform the all-knowing God of our needs, but to impress into ourselves our own inability to meet those needs. Pray without ceasing—not for God’s sake, but for your own. As we pray we may be made aware of something in ourselves—or in the lives of those for whom we pray—which somehow stands in the way of God’s purpose. We need not always think that this is some sin unknown to us consciously— though that may indeed be the case.

More often, people may refuse to accept what God seeks to do in and for them because they feel unworthy; they may assume that God has better things to do than to care so intimately and thoroughly for their needs.

But God is infinite in love and capacity for caring, and nobody ever can be worthy. So our individual lack of qualification is not important. Therefore, persisting in prayer as Jesus instructs is not really to wear down God’s indifference or unwillingness to help us. Rather, the aim of true prayer is to wear down the unjust judge within ourselves.  Jesus intends that whatever is wrong in us may be made right by God’s grace. Prayer is a dance between insistence and surrender, of missing the mark and hitting it, of selfishness and self-sacrifice.

Richard Rohr wrote in Immortal Diamond, “God is the ‘goodness glue’ that holds the dark and light of things together, the free energy that carries all death across the Great Divide and transmutes it into Life.”

I contacted my first spiritual mentor a few years ago. Ron DelBene is now retired from interim rector work. When I asked if he might come here to lead a weekend on spiritual growth he responded, “George, I have the beginnings of Alzheimer’s. I really can’t travel and teach anymore, but I will continue to pray for you.  [Tale of sending Ron my prayer journal- his letters always ended with “Our prayers unite us.”] Our prayers unite all of us. Not in some ephemeral way, but in bonding us together, bringing spiritual wholeness and power. They unite us in the beating heart of the resurrected Jesus, who desires more than anything that we cooperate with God for God’s justice to be done in God’s world. 

October 9, 2022

                         

Proper 23 – Ted Hackett

I am going to ask you to do two things this morning.
I will frame two pictures for you…
And ask you to remember them both at the same time…
I don’t think you will find it hard…
They are memorable images.

The first is an image of first century Palestine…
Imagine a little band of Jews…blue collar guys..
Walking along a dusty, hot road…
Passing through an area which was neither Samaritan nor Jewish.

They have just entered a little village…
A cluster of small, simple houses and maybe a workshop and an Inn…..
And as they go they hear tinkling bells…
It is a small group of Lepers…
They have banded together because
they cannot associate with any “clean” people…
They are “unclean”…thought to be sinners who are contagious.
They are in dirty, tattered clothes and must wear bells
to warn people to keep away from them.
O.K. …Hold that picture…

Now…picture some of the astounding images you have probably seen taken by the new James Webb telescope…
Images of things that happened a quarter of a billion light years ago…
And light travels one hundred and eighty six miles…per second!
Do the math, as they say…
There are so many zeros in that computation
that I can’t wrap my mind around it…
That’s why physicists use the letter “C” to indicate
the speed of light…as in Einstein’s E=mc2

This means we will be able to see an estimated 200 Billion other Galaxies in our Universe.
And maybe…some empirical clues to such phenomena as
Dark Energy and Dark Matter
which make up about 85% of the universe’s total mass…
And to make it even more complicated…we don’t have a clue about
whether the Dark stuff came into being with the Big Bang
or there was Dark Matter before the Bang and was the medium
in which the Big Bang took place!
Furthermore…Webb can get us perhaps a
quarter of a billion years from the Big Bang.

The Big Bang…the point at which something…
An inconceivable sub atomic something which
contained all the detectable energy that moves the
universe, exploded and the Universe literally exploded into being…
And at this moment that explosion is still in
process as the universe expands…
Blowing out…everything in it moving
away from everything else…
Literally…space expanding because space and time
are functions of the universe and were “born” with the Big Bang…
All of it evolving in enumerable ways…
Running on energy from
That cosmic explosion billions of light years ago
Begun from an infinitesimal bearer of energy…
In a nano second!

These are numbers…
Scales…
Events…
Which our brains are not capable of comprehending…
As the philosopher Noam Chomsky rightly says:
“Our brains are not designed to comprehend some things…”

But we are curious, we human beings…
We want to know, we want to understand…
Some theologians have suggested that our curiosity…
our drive to understand…
Is the basis for the original sin…
The snake in the Garden of Eden told Eve…
if she ate of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge…
She would be like God!

But I don’t think so…
The early Church theologians called the sin in the Garden
“Felix Culpa”… “Happy Sin”…
Because it started us on the great adventure
of discovery…
The Sin is not the curiosity…
The sin is the misuse of what we discover!
And what seems to be the case is that…
The more we discover…
The more we uncover the
more we find we don’t understand!

The search is a marvelous adventure…
If we don’t destroy ourselves in the process!
But…back to the Big Bang…

If there was a Big Bang…what “Banged”?
If there is an explosion…
Something had to “explode”!
But the Big Bang theory seems to assume there was…nothing…

Years ago, Emory had a series of “Interdisciplinary Faculty Dinners…
Someone in the Academic Deans’ office discovered
that the various “Schools”…Business, Arts, Physics, Medicine, etc.
kept to their own disciplines and didn’t talk to each other…
We were all in our own, self enclosed “silos”…
except for a few individuals who talked to one another…
So the Dean took this model…
Individual scholars talking to each other as a model
and set up a series of interdisciplinary dinners
and invited a mixed bag of faculty…
At one of them, I was next to a physicist…
A nice guy I enjoyed talking to….
We got on the subject of the origin of the universe…
and he tried to explain what Physicist were thinking about that.

In the process he talked about stuff like “Cosmic Inflation” and
“Cosmic Vacuum”…and at one point about “alternate theories”
which seem to point to an everlasting system of
multiple Universes we can’t know…
Something about String Theory…
But with each answer…there was another question…”
For there to be a Cosmic Vacuum, there has to be an absence
of something…an absence of air for instance…
And that is something.
Finally he said to me, with a smile:
“You are the theologian…that’s your field.”
I said: “Yes…the Question of Why is there Something
rather than nothing at all”
He lowered his voice and said: “Einstein asked that question…
and said being was eternal. He didn’t know and we don’t either
I think we never will!”

The more we try to solve the Mysteries of the universe…
The more we think of them as “problems to be solved.”…
The more of the problems we do solve…
We find that the very solution produces yet more problems to solve!
An endless chain of problems…
Each one an adventure of the Human Spirit…
But none of them ever answer to the Question:
“Why is there something rather than nothing at all”

Now the easy …and tempting…thing to do is say:
“Well, of course…the basic Something is God!”
And in one sense that is true…
But that’s a bit easy…
I could say… “But why is God?”
It seems the more we question…
The more we look to solve problems…
The more we find unanswered questions…
Till finally we say…
“That’s a mystery”

And though we usually mean: “that’s a problem we can’t solve”…
That is not what the Church means by “Mystery.”

Now…
Go back for a bit to the start of this sermon….
Remember the image of that little bunch of poorly fed Jews
trudging on a dusty road toward Jerusalem…
Remember the pitiful, filthy little band of lepers
with their tinkling warning bells…
Jesus’ fame has spread and they recognize him…
But the rules are that they can’t come near…
So hoping for some money they cry: “Jesus, Master,
have mercy on us!”

But instead of giving them money, Jesus says: “Go show yourselves to the Priests.”
In that moment they must have recognized something about Jesus because….
Against all experience…
Against all reason…they obeyed!
They turned and went…
And as they went…
Their skin turned pink…
And they realized…
They were…cured!
They were well!

The priests would ask them to make a thanksgiving sacrifice and then certify that they could rejoin society!
They could hug their family…
They could eat with friends…
They could live!

Something that only God could do… had happened!
The Church would come to understand that this…
and other…miracles that Jesus did were because
he bore the power and authority of God…

In fact…
Against all reason and experience…
He did them because he was and is God…
God and yet fully human…

That is not a problem to be solved…
That is a mystery to be lived into…
Not a proposition to understand intellectually..
But a mysterious reality to trust…
To give ourselves up to…Mystery…
In which to find faith…

John says at the beginning of his Gospel … ” No one has ever seen God, it is God the only Son who is close to the Father’s heart who has made Him known!”
That means…that the unknowable Mystery that is
at the beginning and end of all that is or ever will be…
The power and mystery that we glimpse in the Webb telescope pictures …
The awful…awful and fearful One who is the author of all that creation
we see before our eyes in those pictures…
God …
Almighty and unknowable…

Has made himself known in a Galilean carpenter from an enslaved people…
To see Jesus…in his ordinary humanity…yet in his healing power…
To see Jesus, naked and alone…on the cross…
Hanging in helpless, agonizing death throes…
Is to see God…
God…who stooped to be one of us!
And who can understand that?

And to see in our mind’s eye…
The empty tomb…The Angels…
The risen Christ coming through closed doors,
yet eating as the human He is…
Risen…both God and human…
Who can solve the problem of how that was done?

To know the man Jesus is to know the unknowable God…
who for us and our salvation became fully human
The way we treat other people…is how we are treating God.
And it matters to God…
It matters so much that God became one of us…
It matters so much that God died as we die…
And rose that we might live… forever…

Us…a little, passing speck in the incomprehensible universe…
For us…us…he did all this…

In the words of the hymn we sang moments ago:
“My God, how wonderful thou art, thy majesty how bright, how beautiful thy mercy seat, in depths of burning light!
How wonderful, how beautiful the sight of thee must be….thine endless wisdom, boundless power and awful purity!
Oh how I fear thee, living God, with deepest tenderest fears, and worship thee with trembling hope and penitential tears.
Yet I may love thee too, O Lord, almighty as thou art,
for thou has stooped to ask of me… the love of my poor heart!”

Sing thanks…
Transient and tiny as we are…
Sing Alleluia!
The source of all that is…
Knows us by name…
And stoops to ask us…
For our love!

October 2, 2022

St. Francis – George Yandell

Often our religious leaders play a game with us- “activate your faith.” They extol, berate, confront us, saying, “If you had stronger belief like others, you could do marvelous things, create peace, bring world hunger to an end,” and so on. They make religion out to be a list of do’s and don’ts, and set up hierarchies of achievement. And they insist that there is only one correct system of belief, obtained by practicing their brand of religion.

Jesus said something powerfully different. In the passage just preceding our Matthew reading, Jesus tells about the difference between John the Baptist and the powerful people John upbraided, who refused repentance: “Father, you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants, for such was your gracious will…I am gentle and humble in heart: my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus suggests a big difference between the religion of the many, & faith in the simple things.

Religion is the human group endeavor to make faith both memorable and manageable. On the other hand, faith will have none of it, is always testing religion’s boundaries. Religion wants to make molds out of which it can reproduce faithful people; religion murders faith, but the irony is the two are such as to require one another. (This definition works with any institution, eg, government and justice, marriage and love, schools and truth, hospitals and health, etc, etc.)

Religion means “to re-connect us to God”. Church often interprets its role in re-linking people to God as providing forms, organization, new programs, challenges, oaths of loyalty to get adherents to believe and act the right way.

Faith is something else entirely. Trust is the result, the product of a process of growing faith. The Letter to the Hebrews defines faith- “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Trust comes from living in faith, without proof.

Francis of Assisi exemplifies simple faith. His life demonstrated his complete trust in God’s generous Spirit. He grew up the son of a prosperous merchant. Various encounters with beggars and lepers pricked the young man’s conscience. He decided to embrace a life devoted to poverty and serving the poor. The Pope confirmed the simple Rule of Order of Friars Minor, a name Francis chose to emphasize being among the “least” of God’s servants. The order grew rapidly over all Europe. Five years before his death, Francis had lost control of his order because his ideal of strict and absolute poverty was found too difficult. Francis’s last years were spent in much suffering of body and spirit, but his unconquerable joy never failed. [Above adapted from Holy Women, Holy Men, p. 622]

The Galatians reading includes Paul’s provocative statement: “I carry the marks of Jesus branded on my body.”  These are thought to be scars from Paul’s sufferings and beatings as Christ’s missionary, like the brand marks of a slave. Not long before his death during a spiritual retreat, Francis received the marks of the Lord’s wounds, the stigmata, in his own hands and feet and side. Strangely enough, that day was Holy Cross Day, Sept. 14, 1226, just two and a half weeks before his death. Francis was canonized just two years later, and Pope Gregory the 9th began the erection of the great basilica in Assisi where Francis is buried. [Above adapted from Holy Women, Holy Men, p. 622] Had he still been alive, he’d have been horrified and grieved at that basilica’s creation.

It is critical for you and me to recognize the difference between religion and faith- and to recognize that being faithful is all that’s required. Being faithful is all God asks of us. Being faithful requires us to yield ourselves to the encounters we have with God. Those encounters may come through the established forms of our faith-group, our religion. God-encounters may come from tragedies that help us to fall into God’s loving arms, finding God loves us. God-encounters may come through friends who live in such ways that they inspire us to learn the sources of their faith. God-encounters often lead us to living from our best selves, while accepting our failings, shortcomings.

Being faithful in small ways leads us to be faithful in larger ways. Faith can become the bedrock of our days, giving ourselves to God, caring for our family, our friends, our colleagues at work. Caring even for our enemies, with awareness that they too are God’s own. Practicing prayerful listening and responding to God becomes a normal pattern in those being faithful to God. People being faithful intend more and more, as God grows in them, to be Jesus to those around them, as much as it is possible. A wise man I sought out years ago to help me in praying said, “George, long-term practice of prayer and reflection with God always makes the pray-er yearn for God’s justice. Pray-ers always end up desiring God’s love to inhabit the whole earth.”

Faith yields trust, the fruit of balanced living, oriented to God. Faith only rarely generates by red-faced men yelling at us to “get it right, get it right, for once!”

I want to offer you a thoughtful prayer that may assist in being faithful, becoming trusting of God. It was created in honor of Francis: A Franciscan Blessing

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy. And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done. Amen

September 25, 2022

Proper 21C – George Yandell

Jesus tells us another parable today, immediately following last week’s parable about the dishonest steward. This one is about an unnamed rich man and a poor man named Lazarus. In this study of contrasts and reversals, Jesus denounces the abuse of power and privilege by the wealthy at the expense of the poor and marginalized. Whereas the rich man dressed in fine clothes and “feasted sumptuously every day” (v. 19), Lazarus longed to eat even the scraps from the rich man’s table. He lay outside the gate of the rich man’s home and was covered with sores instead of purple linen. The fact that dogs—unclean animals—came to lick his sores added to his wretchedness and outcast status.

But the poor man has one thing that the rich man does not- the dignity of a name. Lazarus is the only person specifically named in any of Luke’s parables. The name itself is a variant of Eleazer, which means ‘God heals’ or ‘God helps’. The rich man is often referred to as Dives, a term derived from Latin for “rich man.” He is unnamed in the parable, however.

When both men die, their situations are reversed. Whereas the poor man “was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham”, the rich man found himself tormented in Hades. Lazarus now resides in comfort, while the rich man is cast out and endures agony. Lazarus once lay alone at the gate, longing for scraps of food; now the rich man looks across the chasm from Hades and begs for mercy. (Hades, or Sheol, is the Hebrew realm of the dead; in this case it is seen as a place of punishment.)

In an echo of words from the Magnificat (Lk. 1:51-53) and Luke’s Beatitudes (6:20, 24), Abraham’s response in verses 25-26 leaves no doubt that the situation has been changed forever. In life, the rich man had received “good things” and Lazarus “evil things”. Now the reverse is true, as the promises of God turn social and economic expectations upside down. Furthermore, the chasm that now exists between the two men is so wide that it cannot be crossed.

In death the rich man is now as powerless as the poor man had been in life. The rich man finds himself in this position because he misused his wealth and position. He could have helped Lazarus, but he did not. [Adapted from Synthesis: A Weekly Resource for Preaching, September issue.] The rich man is condemned for his indifference, not because he is rich. Indifference is his undoing. [Jesus Seminar, The Five Gospels, p. 361, 1997, Harper Collins.]

This parable could be an attack against the popular belief in Jesus’ day that wealth was an indication of being blessed by God; the attitude that poverty was punishment from God. Apparently some in Jesus’ day took this belief a step further and concluded that they had better not interfere with God’s punishment of such evil poor people—even though the Hebrew Scriptures are clear about helping the needy.

Lazarus is a man who can do nothing for himself. He can’t even keep the feral wild dogs from licking his sores. He depends upon the angels for transportation to Abraham’s side. In contrast, the rich man was able to take care of himself—to provide himself with the finest things. But it’s clear, one doesn’t have to be rich to be greedy and selfish and uncaring. We also shouldn’t conclude that the way to salvation is to be financially poor. The way to deliverance for the rich and the poor is to be “helped by God”—or, to use images from the ending of the parable, to hear the word and to change. [Adapted from Brian Stoffregen at crossmarks.com]

Years ago I was doing research with an eccentric psychologist in Memphis. He had a commission from an ad agency to discover what motivated dog owners to want their pets sedated. The ad agency was trying to land a large contract with a pet pharmaceutical company to run their campaign for a new drug for dogs. My partner and I interviewed 12 dog owners. We asked them if their dogs ever chewed up furniture or made messes in the house when the pet owner was away. Many said, “Yes. It really makes me mad.” When we asked them, “What is best about your dog?”, they all answered, “The way his whole body wags and he whimpers when I come in the door- he seems so glad and relieved to see me- I just love him for that.” 

So we were in a quandary – the pharmaceutical company wanted to offer a product to diminish dogs’ destructive urges, but we knew the drug couldn’t be perceived as dulling the dogs’ affection for the owners.

I combed through all the verbatim interview transcripts, looking for cues about the subconscious motives people were expressing. All of a sudden, a cue they repeated more than any other jumped out at me- it was ‘witnessed significance’. From the landmark book The Healing Spirit by Paul Fleischman: [The Healing Spirit: Explorations in Religion and Psychotherapy, Bonne Chance Press, 1989, pp. 5- 20] Witnessed significance is a universal need in every person. Religion has traditionally noted and responded to this need. At base the need is for God to know us, respond to us, for God to validate us as persons worthy of God’s attention. Humans can witness to the significance of others and in a sense, stand in for God. I concluded that for the dog owners, their companion animals were witnessing their significance, and in a way, expressing God’s love for the pet owners. The ad agency got the contract. And we got paid. They sold the new drug as a light mood suppressant, but that wouldn’t dull the dogs’ natural energy and effervescent love.

Indifference is the opposite of witnessing the significance of others. The rich man wasn’t condemned to hell because he was rich, but because he stepped around Lazarus time after time without noticing or responding. The dogs who licked Lazarus’ wounds were much more loving than the rich man. The rich man’s indifference condemned him. I like what Barbara Brown Taylor said, “Salvation is not something that happens only at the end of a person’s life. Salvation happens every time someone with a key uses it to open a door he could lock instead.”

When we read (sang) the psalm, we recited a promise from God, “Because you are bound to me in love…..I will protect you, because you know my name. I am with you in trouble: I will rescue you and bring you honor… and show you my salvation.” When we stand in for God, we live out these promises God makes to all humanity. With God’s help, we witness the significance of each being, particularly those who suffer from the indifference of the prevailing culture. We honor the neighbor who is missing her significance in God’s eyes. That’s our ministry in a nutshell. Lazaruses one and all.  

September 18, 2022

Proper 20 C – George Yandell

Amy-Jill Levine writes [in Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (N. Y.: HarperOne, 2014): “Jesus knew the best teachings come from stories that make us laugh even as they make us uncomfortable. [Parables are] not tools for shaming or inculcating guilt, but for good hard lessons learned with a sense of playfulness.” We tend to domesticate the parables in order to control their meaning. “If the interpretation does not raise for us more questions, if it does not open us up to more conversation, if it creates a neat and tidy picture, we need to go back and read it again”. Parables challenge, provoke, convict, and amuse.

Today’s parable is a doozy. It does all the above- challenges, provokes, convicts and amuses. Over the centuries followers of Jesus have scratched our heads and gone to exhaustive lengths to try to understand, or explain away, what Jesus was (or was not) saying here. One writer suggests that this parable in particular, along with numerous other passages in Scripture, is more fully understood when viewed through the lens of humor. Unfortunately, the humor of Christ is usually overlooked as an aspect of his teachings. Laughter is the sudden perception of incongruity between our ideals and the actuality before us. [Adapted from Elton Trueblood in The Humor of Christ (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1964.]

Jesus deliberately exaggerated to point out our foibles; he used hyperbole to clarify and increase our understanding; to reveal aspects of truth which would not otherwise be revealed; and to call attention to what would, without [humor], remain hidden or unappreciated. Truth, truth alone, is the end and the goal. [ibid]

Today the question from Jesus seems to be: Dishonest Steward or Shrewd Manager? Now here’s a surprise: The master praised the crooked manager! And why? Because he knew how to look after himself. Streetwise people are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits.

You might say Jesus was telling his hearers: “I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you’ll live, and not complacently just get by on good behavior.” [Adapted from Eugene H. Peterson in The Message Remix: The Bible in Contemporary Language, Colorado Springs: Navpress, 2003.]

One theologian suspects that Jesus set up a barter economy with the people who followed him. The feedings of the multitudes could have had that barter economy as their basis. They could exchange the necessities of life without entering the market place, avoiding taxes and looking after one another in the process. In that context one can ask: Who is this manager? Is he an unscrupulous crook who cooked the books and cheated his boss? Or did he outwit a corrupt system in which the rich were exploiting the working classes? Perhaps the master himself was a less than upstanding member of the business community. In contemporary context, he might have been the manager of a shady hedge fund or a Ponzi scheme perpetrator; or perhaps he hid company profits in tax-sheltered offshore accounts. [ibid]

Whatever the case, the steward’s quick thinking and ingenuity benefited not only him but ultimately his master, as well as the master’s debtors. Unquestionably, few passages of Scripture have created more conflicting views than this parable, especially since the steward is commended by his master for his actions. The story probes and tests the limits of our neat moral universe. [ibid]

One way to view the steward is to associate him with the underdog trickster figure of literature and folklore. Perhaps he could be likened to a Robin Hood character who stole from the rich to give to the poor. The Hebrew tradition is rich in underdog tales—the person who is least likely to succeed, and yet does. “Trickster narratives help us cope with the insurmountable and uncontrollable forces in our own lives, personifying and in a sense containing the chaos that always threatens.” This image held special appeal for Israel, since throughout its history, the nation held a self-image as underdog and trickster. [Adapted from Susan Niditch in Underdogs and Tricksters: A Prelude to Biblical Folklore, San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987.]

Although we may not always condone the tactics of a trickster such as the steward, we can admire their pluck and willingness to take risks, and may even find ourselves cheering them on. [ibid]

That the steward in many ways did not really deserve to be commended may be a means of making the Gospel’s point. Grace is a surprise—as it was to the disciples. Grace comes anyway, even to the unredeemable—even the steward! The expedient actions of the steward—whether dishonest or shrewd—call to mind one of the Dalai Lama’s eighteen Rules for Living: “Learn the rules so that you know how to break them properly.” [Adapted from Frederick Houk Borsch in Many Things in Parables: Extravagant Stories of New Community (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988.]

The paradox of the steward’s behavior can be summed up in this way: “The point of the Unjust Steward is that it’s better to be a resourceful rascal than a saintly schlemiel.” [Frederick Buechner in Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, N.Y..: Harper & Row, 1973].

In The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis, the senior devil warns his apprentice: “If the fact ever gets out that you and I cannot stand laughter, then the game is up and over.” That is an apt way of understanding the steward’s actions, and his master’s acceptance of them. If you can’t laugh at the way God acts on occasion, how can the impishness in creation be accepted? It seems to me that the parables can be read as high and holy jokes about God and about humans and about the Gospel itself as the highest and holiest joke of them all. [Adapted from Frederick Buechner in Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale, N. Y.: Harper & Row, 1977.] In one of her visions, or “showings,” the 14th-century Christian mystic Julian of Norwich “laughed greatly” for she “understood that we may laugh to comfort ourselves and rejoice in God, because the devil is overcome.” 

September 11, 2022

Proper 19 C – George Yandell

There’s a certain excess in Jesus that I used to find outrageous, but increasingly now find tremendously joyful. He zaps helpless fig trees. He sleeps on the fantail of a boat in a hurricane. He feeds thousands with next to nothing. He praises a shepherd who’d ignore 99 nearsighted, beetle-brained sheep just to go after one that’s lost. He heals. He admonishes. He predicts, he indicts. He commends a poor widow who finds a lost coin and spends whatever others she has left just to celebrate. He makes one wonder whether the gospel’s not only about change, but also about small change.

And this is the son in whom God is proud and to whom God also wants us to listen? This is the one for whom we should seek in our neighbor? This is what happens when the Word becomes flesh? This is the Way, the Truth, the Life? The Christ? Well… Yes.

It’s no wonder the tax collectors and sinners were curious. The prophets were easy to ignore, but not this. They could identify with Jesus if for no other reason than his apparent profligacy, a kind of recklessness that in a way confirmed their own. And it’s no wonder the religious leaders and their minions got even stiffer necks than usual. One audience with him, and all their careful religion – school curriculum was either ready for rewrite or else down the drain.

Is there any conceivable message for us, his church, his disciples, those of us gathering together Sunday in and Sunday out in his name? On this anniversary of 9-11? Maybe. Perhaps the tithe is more like ninety percent than ten. It’s all finders-keepers with the rest. [adapted from Lane Denson sermon 9-16-07]

Even seemingly simple stories are not always what they appear to be. Jesus in his ministry was a master of ‘creative indirection’—an original and perceptive rabbi. His methods and his ends are not as transparently clear as some interpretations would have it. Today’s parables are an example of this.

The story of the lost sheep can relate to individual as well as corporate salvation. “I once was lost, but now am found…….”, but that’s not Jesus’ point here.  The shepherd goes after the lost sheep not only to save her, but more importantly to save the other ninety-nine. The other 99 cannot achieve wholeness apart from the 100th. In this passage, there is no individual salvation or blessedness—no rugged individualism, no rejection of the vulnerable and useless. The majority cannot be saved apart from the well-being of the minority. This is God’s wisdom, which confounds the wisdom of self-interest. Jesus is all about politics here—the politics of salvation, which must embrace all of us, body, mind, and spirit, for any of us to be whole. [Adapted from Bruce Epperly in Synthesis for Sept. ‘13]

Discovering the lost coin is essential to the completion of the other nine coins. The many are incomplete without the one. The one is lost not by choice, or foolish wandering, but by being caught in cracks. A peasant woman had ten coins, which might have had holes in them so that they could be worn as a necklace (as was the custom). Thus the loss of one of them could have spoiled the beauty of the necklace’s design. [The above adapted from King Oehmig, Synthesis, Sept. ‘13]

There is an obvious social commentary here:  how many persons are lost because no one notices, no one cares, no one offers support or welcome? A healthy society or church does not abandon anyone—no child is truly left behind in the inner city or rural Appalachia. The church is called to a style of hospitality that seeks rather than waits, that goes out to find the lost rather than expecting them to come to us. For whom are we to look in our communities? The church doors are open to let us out—to have Bible studies at Starbucks or Pub Theology at The Old Mule House, to prepare meals for hungry children in our county to eat over weekends, to advocate for the voiceless. God’s joy comes from people finding a home, from the lost completing the lives of the found. Our salvation and wholeness depend on the lost being found & welcomed. [ibid]

The Qumran Manual of Discipline was one of the first Qumran scrolls to be discovered. It was designed to protect the purity of the community’s Hebrew fellowship. A member who committed even minor infractions was excluded from the sharing of the common meal for the duration of repentance. And there was no possibility for letting outsiders partake of the sacred meal.  Almost everyone at the time would refuse to eat with known sinners who did not try to live according to the received patterns. In fact, most Qumran people chose to have as little contact with the unrighteous as possible.

Jesus was different. He sought out the acknowledged sinners of the community, so that they began to feel comfortable in his presence. He could speak their language. And, of course, you can’t do anything for people whose company you carefully avoid. It would have been possible for Jesus to argue the issue within the religious community—and perhaps to cite examples from the lives of the prophets. But Jesus had a better idea. He stated a hypothetical question in story form. For us, the compelling point in these two stories is that the disciples of Jesus cannot afford to keep their distance from the people around them who are not living by the Lord’s standards. [ibid] They complete our mutual salvation, salvation here and now as God’s kingdom becomes present.  

September 4, 2022

Proper 18C – George Yandell

I have preached from this Luke passage more than 20 times. Each time I wonder: “Did Jesus really mean his disciples must hate family and life itself or they cannot be his disciples? Did he really mean each disciple must carry her own cross, preparing to die a tortured death, to be obedient?” And in each sermon I’ve tried to offer folks some hope- lessening the severity of what Jesus said, showing other ways to understand what Jesus says. I was wrong to do so. 

What Jesus offers the large crowd is not just hatred of fathers and mothers, but an example of what it means to follow God’s ways at a certain time of history. Simply put, if you’re not willing to take what is dearest to you, whether plans or people, and kiss it goodbye, you can’t be a Jesus disciple. Hatred here is meant not in a psychological sense. It means disowning, renouncing, rejecting- those who become disciples of Jesus must commit exclusively to entering God’s kingdom with Jesus. (Interesting note- Greek for “large crowd” = ‘’x’oi polloi’- sound familiar? It meant large crowd of common people, not as we hear it today- the hoy polloi, the upper-crust glommed up together.)

Jesus was, I believe, leading the way through horrible times, opening the kingdom then and there to all. Most of those around him were clinging to the patriarchal system when Rome was exploiting the way the Jews had operated for centuries- the son married and took his bride into his father’s household, then the oldest son inherited the household from his father. Jesus spoke against trying to make the old ways work when fathers and mothers were losing their land, their way of living, yet not adapting. Households were being driven into servitude. Jesus was trying to help his disciples change, yet prepare to pay the horrible price he foresaw they would have to pay. He meant to give them a way through to depending on God alone. I believe His words were compassionate, loving warnings to his closest friends. This is the Way to live through these times of oppression: come together in a table fellowship where family has changed- where each shares with others of their meager belongings. Sharing in love and asking God to bless it.

So: Hating parents is not a general instruction to all ages of believers. Some few today have been called to such rejection of family and life; but rarely do the followers of Jesus now help their fellows, or themselves, by hating family. When the Church decides it is good to hate (whether family, non-believers, folks different from us, people who might endanger our sanctity), the Church is always wrong. The church then hears the words of Jesus incorrectly, and they fall away from the love Jesus intends now and in every age of the church. I want to tell you a story about hate and its cost.

Once there was a man named John. John’s mother died when he was a sophomore in high school. After his mother’s death, John and his father argued about everything. They fought until each was red in the face, calling names, then stomped away from each other, saying they hated each other. They did this until John was 32 and his father developed cancer. Son John became overwhelmed with guilt at how he had hated his father. He went and talked to his priest, to ask forgiveness for his hatred. The priest said these words: “Jesus intends for us to live in God’s kingdom now. It’s very hard to do. We have to die to anything that holds us back. You need to die to your anger with your father.//” At the priest’s instruction, John went to his father’s bedside, and said he wanted to talk. The father started in on him, just as always. “What the hell do you want now, money? For me to change my will? I’m dying here- leave me alone!”

John gathered his courage, took his father’s hand in his own, and said, “Dad, we’ve fought as long as I can remember. Other people, family, friends, tell me how much they love you and are so sad to hear of your illness. I’ve never known the man they speak of. Can we let our anger die, and be new father and son to each other in the time we have left together? I want to know you before I no longer have the chance.” And John kissed his father’s hand, his eyes streaming tears. His father was startled into silence. 

Then the father said, “Son, I’ve envied you for so long, then gotten angry with you, it’s like you’re already dead to me. After you were born, the time I loved to spend with your mother was taken away from me. She held you, played with you, was so happy, and I was bumped out of the way. I started working more, spent more time playing golf. Then your mother died.  I’ve envied your success, and I’ve yelled at you as a failure, but you’re not. I’ve drawn away from your children, and blamed you for their lack of contact with me.  When your mother died, I wanted to die with her. I think I’ve blamed you for everything that has ever gone wrong with my life. I think these last few years anger with you was all I had to keep me going. I don’t know how to change.”

John said, “Dad, when I realize how much of my life’s energy has gone into hating you, I just want to die. I’m sure I’m not as good a father as my kids need. But one thing I know, when you die, if I haven’t come to know the real you, I’ll carry the hate inside, and it’ll turn on me. I’ll have you inside me hating me. And I can’t stand for that to happen.” John shook his head, and said, “Dad, we’re really screwed up. I want to take you out tomorrow to a special place. Will you come with me? It won’t take long.”

The next day, the attendant helped John get his father in the car. They drove through town to the outskirts, and kept on until they got way out in the country. The father dozed in the seat, his head lolling. Then John stopped and helped his father out. He gasped to see they were standing on the lip of an immense old rock quarry, crystal clear water shimmering way below them. John said, “Dad, I’ve brought you a chair. I want you to sit here while I climb up to the top ledge up there.” His father said, “This is the old quarry I told you never to come to! It was too dangerous. What are we doing here now?” The son said, “I need you to witness something. I’m going to jump off that high rock like I did in high school. Every time I did it, and slammed into the water the 65 feet below here, I forgot all the pain at losing mom. I felt pure freedom, knowing I was doing something you’d forbidden me to do, something you couldn’t control. It was my secret. I want to jump now for you, with you. I hope we can let our anger die in the fall. Just wait here and watch.” 

The father sat there, stunned. John stripped down to his swimming trunks in the cool fall day. With bare feet he started climbing the dirt trail to the highest rock on the sheer wall. As his father watched, John waved at him, then leapt out to clear the rock ledges below, and soared way down into the clear water. A geyser of water erupted above him as his feet slapped the water. The seconds dragged by, the father more and more anxious as his son didn’t appear at the surface. All of a sudden John lunged up, gasping a breath, then yelled, “We did it!” As John swam toward the gravel ramp and stepped out of the water, the father shook with relief, and something else. He literally couldn’t believe what he had witnessed. 

From that day on, John’s visits with his father changed. The priest sometimes brought communion to John’s family at his father’s bedside. They prayed together. The week his father died, John heard him say with labored breath, “Yeah, I get it. We leapt together. Thank God. John, I love you.” 

I am convinced that Joan Chittister is right in her book The Story of Ruth. Chittister wrote, “There is no one through whom God does not work.” To be disciple of Jesus today means to take the leap, let God work through us. Ask and answer questions about human relationships in such a way that we honor God. “To whom am I to be neighborly?” is a good question for us to ask. It honors God. “How am I to live today so that those I touch sense God’s love through me?” is another good question to ask. “What can we work on here in Jasper with others, so that we embrace God’s ways together?” If we ask these questions, then we are on the road to being disciples of Jesus. If we answer questions like these every day of our lives, then we truly are entering God’s domain with Jesus.

August 28, 2022

Pentecost 12 – Ted Hackett

Today’s Gospel is about getting God’s approval…

     About how you qualify for the Kingdom of God because the coming

     Kingdom of God was the main concern of Jesus and the early Church.

          The humble man gets rewarded by getting a more prestigious seat…

               There are two issues in most Gospel stories.

                    Humility and charity…

In these readings…these are the markers of a Christian.

     Now that shouldn’t be news to any of us….

          We know that for over 2,000 years Christians have been struggling to be       

          humble, charitable and…loving…

               With very, very mixed success…

                     Which is why confession, repentance and forgiveness are so

                    important in our Christian journey…

                         Not new news…

But there is something else in this Gospel reading that we also find familiar…

     So familiar that we may not notice…

          In the Gospel stories…

               There are rewards for doing something charitable…or being humble…

                                                                                And these rewards seem to depend on what we do.

It seems we are supposed to love or be charitable –

     to get a reward…

          And by implication…

               Avoid some kind of punishment…

                    It makes God and Jesus into

                         “Transactionalists”

                              If you do or don’t do what I want…you will be

                              rewarded or punished.

It’s like comedian George Carlin’s bit about what he learned in Parochial school…

     “God loves you…God especially loves you if you do what he wants you to…

     and if you  don’t…He will throw you into Hell where you will burn in agony for

     all eternity…because he loves you!”…

          The first Christians adopted this notion very early…

               St. Paul…the first Christian writer,

               resorts to it a lot…

                    And here it turns up in the

                    Gospels…in the latter part of the first century!

Now this is not surprising…

     This “Transactional” theology was part of first century Judaism…and the early

     Jesus-people were Jews…

          And it was not only Judaism, but almost every religion that was concerned

          with morals.

               The fact was that most people believed that the best way to get people to

               do right was to threaten them…

                    Pope Gregory the Great in the 6th century was clear…

                         To convert heathen barbarians…scare them with Hellfire…

                         then sooth them with forgiveness.

                              Some churches still follow that advice…

But that understanding seems to be in conflict with a lot of what is attributed to Jesus in the Gospels…

     On one hand the Gospels of Mark and Matthew have Jesus saying that if your

     hand does something bad, amputate it, because that is better than being

     thrown into Hellfire.

     But on the other hand…

          In so many of his parables, Jesus says that in the Kingdom of God,

               God loves you…unconditionally…

                    and does not reward according to your works…

Look at the Parables…

     The parable of the Prodigal…

          The selfish kid is completely restored…simply because his Father loves him.

     The parable of the laborers in the vineyard…

          The men who worked just a short while received as much pay as those who

          worked in the sun all day…

     The parable of The Pharisee and the tax collector…

          The crooked traitor who collected Taxes for the Romans and stole some of

          the money…went away forgiven when he simply prayed for mercy…

          nothing else!

And so it goes…

     In fact…God’s love sometimes offends our own sense of fairness…

          The prodigal did not deserve to be given back the property he wasted…the

          older brother was right!

               Our sense of fairness is based on transactions…

                    You do what I want you to…

                         And I will reward you…

                              If you don’t I will get you!

But Jesus seems to contradict himself…

     Sometimes he talks of rewards and punishment…

          Sometimes he talks of the absurd, unfair,

          limitless, unconditional love of God…

               How are we to make sense of this?

Well… I want to suggest a little academic stuff.

     If you look at the passages that contain

     threats of punishment…they have one thing in common…

          They look and sound just like all the other political and religious stuff in first

          century Palestine…

               There is nothing unusual about them.

                    But everything we know about Jesus says he was unusual…    

                    unusual to say the least!

                         Think of his being questioned by Pilate…and not answering

                         when he could save his life by simply pleading not guilty…

                              Pilate wanted to let him go!

Think of him voluntarily offering himself to be crucified…

     Trusting only in God even to death on the cross…

          Think of the radical, impractical parables

               Think of the radical, impractical love that Jesus recommends to us…

                    “Love your enemies”

                    “Bless those who persecute you”

                         This is not the stuff of reward and punishment.

In fact…it is so radical that we either cringe in guilt or…. ignore it…

     it is impossible to live that way we say…

          RIGHT!…

               That’s exactly what the people who first heard the Gospel thought…

                    “These Jesus people are crazy!”

And so very quickly…

     By 20 or 30 years after that first Easter…

          (By the way being resurrected from the dead was a pretty crazy idea too!) 

               Within 20 or 30 years…

                    The apostles decided to make the Gospel more understandable…

                         And started including reward and punishment in their preaching…

And so…50 or so years later, this carrot and stick theology had worked its way into the oral traditions of the Church…

     And from there into the theology that Paul learned in Syria…

          And into the Gospels.

All of which suggests that Jesus really was radical

     That Jesus’ understanding of God was radical

          because God’s love is not transactional.

               God’s love is not based on a deal…

                    If you do this, I’ll do that…

                        If you don’t…

                              I’ll throw you into Hell!

I am not suggesting that we throw out the transactional stuff in the Bible…

     The Old Testament is full of it…And there is plenty of it in the New Testament.

          The whole thing is the Church’s Book…

               And it is based on keen observation of life and human nature.

But what I am suggesting is that we recognize the tension in our Christianity…

     It is the tension between God and us…

          We are so limited that we cannot fathom the depth…or the height…

          of God’s love…

               We keep wanting to make it more practical…

                    More realistic…

                         We need the notion of justice.

                               But with God, justice

                               collapses into love…

We import punishment into Jesus’ message…to make it more “relevant”… to use a word I hate…

     It’s a pop marketing term…

          instead…we are called to embrace Jesus’ impracticality…

          his apparent craziness.

We are called to try to imagine a world where there is only love…

     A world where suffering and hatred and war are no more…

          An impossible, seemingly impractical world…

               Where fear is unnecessary…

                    A world that is God’s dream.

A world that we can never bring about…

     But a world that is promised to us in the life…

          The death…

               And the resurrection of Jesus.

God knows love cannot be coerced…

     We cannot be scared into really loving…

          The Prodigal’s father…like God…let the kid go…

          even though he knew the danger.

               He could have withheld the kid’s inheritance…his power to sin…

                     But he also knew that the boy’s love…if it was really love…

                         Had to be freely given…

                              Or else it was not love!

But what of us?…

     Us… Mired in our sin…our selfishness…our pride?…

          How do we dare love …

          How do we dare love “out of control?”

               We know that by ourselves…

                    We cannot!…

But then,

     Remember what Jesus said to the apostles when he spoke of sinners entering

     the Kingdom of God…

          He said:

               “With God…all things are possible”

                     And so it is and ever will be…

                         And so also it is for us!

                              Incredible as it is…

By the mysterious, silent grace of God…

     We can learn to forgive.

          We can dare to let ourselves love…

               And God waits on the porch of heaven

               for as long as it takes for us to come home…

                    For us to…love

                         Even now…God is waiting for us…

So even now…we can Rejoice…

     yes… Rejoice!…Even in our sinful world!

          For with God all things are possible!

               Even the Kingdom of Love “Alleluia!”

August 21, 2022

Proper 16C – George Yandell

When I was in seminary, Professor Charlie Price remarked in a theology class that he had been phoned by a 7th Day Adventist pastor on a Saturday afternoon years before, as he was preparing his Sunday sermon. “Rev. Price,” the pastor asked him, “Why do you Episcopalians worship on Sunday? Don’t you know Saturday is the Sabbath Day?” Charlie said he stormed back at the pastor, “We worship on Sundays because it’s the Day of the Lord’s Resurrection!” and slammed down the phone. The pastor and Charlie were both right – Saturday is still the Sabbath, and we worship on Sundays because every Sunday celebrates Easter.

When I was a boy, blue laws were still in force throughout the south. Of course, blue laws were enforced on Sundays, not the Sabbath, Saturday. It meant that most of the distractions of shopping and working were stopped for a day, and our energies were focused around home or the community or the church. I miss the feeling and the results of the blue laws. I think the whole community ceasing the normal flow of work and business caused us to appreciate more the point of the other days of the week – that everything we did for those 6 days was to benefit the community and fellow citizens, not just ourselves.

Jesus taught in synagogues on the Sabbath. He performed 7 miraculous Sabbath miracles, as recounted in the gospels. Each time he healed on the Sabbath, Jesus restored the Sabbath to be a benefit for humankind against any distortions of human religious traditions. Jesus maintained that it was certainly lawful to do good on the Sabbath. It was God’s will since the beginning of creation that the Sabbath have the purpose of serving humankind, for resting and bringing blessing to all, including non-Jews. Jesus recalled for the worshippers of his day the true intent of the Sabbath, and the true intent of synagogue worship. The Sabbath activities of Jesus were neither hurtful provocations nor were they mere protests against rabbinic legal restrictions. His Sabbath teachings and healings are part of Jesus proclaiming God’s domain to be coming near. God manifests God’s healing and saving care of humanity in Jesus, in company with the people open to God’s actions. (Anchor Bible Dictionary.)

The Sabbath day is a temporary stay of inequality. It’s a day of rest for everyone alike, for animals and humans, for land-owners and indentured servants. The Sabbath opens us to how God sees the world. It is a regular stay against the activity that creates inequalities the other 6 days of the week. (John Dominic Crossan, The Birth of Christianity, p. 189) Everyone is to be at ease and at peace, reflecting on God’s work in the world.

Picture our Sunday worship. If a guest preacher gestured for one of us to stand up and some forward, then the preacher announced she would be healed of an 18-year debilitating illness, then laid hands on her and she was miraculously cured, and she started praising God and dancing for joy, how would we feel? Startled? Glad? Would any part of us think, “This is not normal, it’s not the Episcopal way, this is out of order?”

Years ago Lenny Bruce did a sketch “Christ and Moses”. Cardinal Spellman is preaching at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in NYC. Bp. Sheen interrupts him, whispering, “I think you ought to know, we have two very important visitors in the back. And no, before you ask, I haven’t been drinking: It’s Christ and Moses.” 

Cardinal Spellman asked, “What are they doing here?” Bishop Sheen said, “I don’t know, but don’t look now, there are lepers streaming through the front door.” Cardinal Spellman said, “Get the pope on the line… John this is Frank, we’ve got a small problem here – we’re up to our eyeballs in crutches and wheelchairs. These two guys are attracting crowds. Yeah, they’re in the back, and you know them. How do I know it’s them? Well, they look like their pictures. Well, one of them is a dead ringer for Charleston Heston, and the other one is Mary’s boy. Yeah, that Mary. Look, can we send them over to your place? They’re disrupting everything here, and man, they’re glowing.”

Our worship is not so different from synagogue on Sabbath day in the time of Jesus. What we forget, like the devout Jews in Judea forgot, is the real intent of gathering on the Lord’s Day. Listen to Isaiah: “If you offer food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness. The Lord will guide you continually. If you refrain from trampling the Sabbath, from pursuing your own interests on my holy day; if you call the Sabbath a delight and the holy day of the Lord honorable; if you honor it, not going your own ways, serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs; then you shall take delight in the Lord, and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth.”

When the Bent woman was healed in the synagogue, I think she was as surprised as anyone else present. She represents you and me. I suspect we did not come here this morning to be healed, at least most of us. But that’s what God offers, healing of soul, healing of relationships, healing of everything that afflicts us.  That’s the intent of the Lord’s Day: resurrection now. We may be stuck a little in our conventional ways. We may get a little out of whack when the service has a new turn in it. 

But think of the Bent Woman, standing up straight for the first time in 18 years- that’s the freedom of healing power God intends us to enjoy, right here, right now. 

I’d like us to leave here today, like the crowd in the synagogue, rejoicing at all the wonderful, caring things God has done for us. It may seem impossible, especially if we’re grieving, or suffering from illness and pain. But we proclaim that Jesus is present, now. And the healing power he offers is ours to receive. Not just for our own distress, but healing of relationships, bringing the people of God together in wholeness, equality and justice. God means to heal this world through the work of Jesus and his church. The Sabbath and the Lord’s Day are the weekly tools of observance that bring us back to ourselves, back to the community of God, and give us healing power to share with everyone we meet in our daily places.  The lesson Jesus offered is timely now as it was then. Each time we gather for worship on the Lord’s Day, we’re to heed the spirit calling us to prophetic response and action. Not because it’s required, but because when another is healed, so are we. Maybe we’re the ones who are glowing in hope and power, along with Moses and Jesus.  

August 14, 2022

Proper 15c[RCL]: The Rev. Frank F. Wilson

Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:1-2;8-18; Heb 11:29-12:2; Luke12:49-56

Wind and Rain and Fire May Not Always Be The Enemy We Think

Teresa of Avila was a 16th century nun, mystic, and social activist. It seems that while on a mission of mercy, the good nun came to a stream that had to be forged were she to make her destination. To wit, she sternly encouraged her reluctant donkey to enter the stream so as to cross it. About halfway across, the donkey either rebelled or was startled but for whatever reason bucked the good Sister Teresa right off its back headlong into the cold, running water. Breathless, and shivering, and flailing about as she was trying to right herself in the cold, running, waist deep water, sister Teresa looked up to heaven and yelled, “Do you ALWAYS treat your friends like this?!

Getting no answer from God, she made her way to the muddy bank, and as she was struggling to drag herself out of the stream and up the bank, she was overheard to mumble, “Well, no wonder you have so few of them.”

I confess to sometimes feeling something like that as I imagine you probably do as well.

Well, today we encounter texts that reveal a God, and reveal a Jesus, who is not always the God of peace; the God of comfort. Not always the God of ever present mercy. Today’s text reminds us that sometimes we feel like we serve a God who is fully capable of giving us a good dunking.

This morning, by way of our readings, we encounter a prophet – Isaiah; an anonymous poet and early Christian apologist. And we find Jesus himself, reminding that life — even the life of a Christian — is not life devoid of difficulty and struggle.

It’s as if we are being reminded that into every life a little rain must fall. But also, and at the same time, being reminded that the rain is not necessarily to be seen as a negative thing, for all living things need rain in order to gain strength, grow and to survive.

TV weather people amuse me. If they are predicting rain, they lament that, “Rain is coming. Get out the umbrellas.  Cancel your weekend plans. Not a good time to go to the beach. Might as well stay home,” they say.

On the other hand, if they are forecasting sunshine they tend to lament that it’s going to be unbearably hot, and woe to us for we surely need some rain.

TV meteorologist, it seems to me, regardless of their forecast, always seem to be in a state of some despair and urgency.

But the fact remains that into each life a little rain must fall. And the early Christian theologian who gave us the Book of Hebrews would seem intent on reminding that while keeping the faith can lead to pleasing and successful outcomes, it can also sometimes lead to less satisfying outcomes – outcomes that can lead to some stress, discomfort, or even conflict. His admonition is to keep the faith anyway.

Jesus uses the imagery of fire as a metaphor for an instrument of transformation and positive change: “I came to bring fire to the earth,” he says, “and how I wish it were already kindled.” 

This is an impatient Jesus that we encounter this morning: “I have a baptism with which to be baptized,” he says. “What stress I am under until it is completed!”

And then Jesus paints a very disturbing picture of what being his disciple can mean. It can even result, he says, in families who are not at peace with each other. Families divided. Parents against children and children against parents.

We live in a country which I’m pretty sure coined the phrase, “family values.”  The commitment to family is deeply important to us and a family that is cohesive and unified is much desired.  I imagine that this was at least, if not more, true for the people of ancient times as it is our own.

So, one might ask: Is Jesus promoting family strife? Of course this is not the intent of his words. But Jesus is saying that to follow him is to experience a kind of new growth. To follow him is to experience some growing pains. To follow him may lead to a place where one finds oneself in conflict with family, friends, and the world around them. To live like Jesus, to love like Jesus, to talk like Jesus can seem to be, and in fact can be, deemed counter-cultural and/or counter-intuitive. 

            One of the great fathers of the church was Ignatius of Antioch. Ignatius was a bishop in the early church who lived near the end of the first century and he is, in fact, a Christian martyr having died a cruel death in the Roman spectacle that was the lions den. And we are fortunate to know something of his life and it is a very fortunate thing that some of his writings survived him. Ignatius wrote the following. In fact, I have these words in a frame right over my desk so that I cannot but help occasionally glancing up at them as I write and prepare my sermons for any given Sunday. Ignatius wrote the following: (He said) the greatness of Christianity lies in its being hated by the world, not in its being convincing to it. The good bishop knew that Christ and the religion he spawned challenged the status quo and challenges the common world view so much so that those who embrace the teachings of Jesus may very well find themselves in conflict with those in power and authority; or with friends; or as we heard from him this morning – even members of one’s own family. In this matter, life is no different today than it was two thousand years ago.

In this very same Gospel we find Jesus saying that “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”[1]  And Jesus is saying in our Gospel this morning that one cannot serve God and simultaneously behave as if you do not know God. One cannot serve God and, at the same time, deal in the currency of the God-less.

Coming to Christ, cultivating a relationship and devotion with Christ involves change. One cannot develop, cannot attend to one’s own spiritual, moral, and ethical growth and not be open to change. 

As I wrote these words I was reminded of a time when I happened to have been on the faculty of Kennesaw College during a time of great change.  During a time of something like exponential growth. When I first joined the faculty there, it was so small and out of the way, you could hardly find the place. I was also there when we moved from being a Junior College to be being a four-year institution.  And I was there when we went from college to university status. During these periods of great transition, you could almost see the camps forming. There were those who embraced change and those who hated to see it coming – so much so that they insisted that nothing need to change. They would say that the college could just continue doing what it had always done, only do it, well…bigger.

And in such an environment it seemed that if one voiced an opinion that could be construed as supporting tradition, they were in danger of being labeled ‘non-progressive.’ On the other hand, if one seemed too eager for change, they might be labeled “reckless.” And so there was a kind of tension in the family.

But whether we speak of institutions or of individual souls, change is inevitable and not necessarily a bad thing This parish has and will continue to change over time and hopefully it will become the spiritual home to even more saints, but in doing so it will inevitably look and feel a little different over time. And as it grows the parish will, of necessity, change the way it does some things. But like the consequences of the refiners fire, we probably do good to embrace it rather than resist it because surely change that improves, and which produces more positive outcomes is a good thing and in terms of church life, is probably pleasing to God.  But change is never easy. We have to look no further than the current Lambeth Conference to see that maxim at play. If you have been paying attention you know that there was great tension at this most recent Lambeth Conference – mostly having to do with issues surrounding human sexuality. It was, and is, in large measure a theological debate between the church in the northern hemisphere vs. the church in the southern hemisphere. There was such disagreement; such tension, that a lot of the time and energy of the conference wound up being centered around how to remain civil with one another; how to stay in dialogue. How to just continue to get along with one another.

As I say this, I find myself recalling not too long ago that the Department of the Interior or whatever department it is that has jurisdiction over national forests – had quite a debate over whether or not every forest fire should be extinguished. There was one camp which said that the only good fire is an extinguished fire. But there was another camp which said, “No, let ’em burn. Forest fires are simply God’s way of rejuvenating the forest.” 

Well, not being terribly knowledgeable about such things, I’m comfortable leaving that debate with the policy makers, ecologist, foresters and the like.

But I do know that sometimes after the storm — sometimes after the painful experience, it is possible to look back and realize, especially it seems over time, that the effects of the storm were not necessarily all bad. In fact, as we look back we can often see new growth.  And whether it be a real forest or a metaphor for what was – very soon the new forest begins to emerge where the old forest was, but even more luscious than before.

I’m pretty sure that that’s pretty much all Jesus is trying to say to us this morning. You can’t be the new person in Christ without doing away with some of the old, decaying stuff. And as painful as it might be at the time to let go of some of the old stuff — whether it be a bad habit, a repetitive sin that keeps us off balance, a possession that blocks our view of the new thing God is calling us to, or maybe letting go of an old theology to make room for the new — as painful as it may be at the time, letting go of some of the old stuff is necessary if new growth is to be realized.

Where and when that is the case, it might be best to not lament the refining fire, but rather embrace it. And thank God for it.

***

And now I could very well put a period or an ‘Amen’ here thus concluding this sermon. But before I retire this sermon I want to very briefly re-visit Sister Teresa whom you may recall was just now making her way to high ground following her unexpected swim. And who, when we last heard from her, was grumbling at God. 

Now I don’t know if God gave her that dunking in that creek or not. If so, I have to believe that God had good reason and that there was some learning that the good sister was to gain from the experience. Your guess is as good as mine.

But it also occurs to me that there may be another explanation. Maybe God did not have a darn thing to do with that donkey tossing her into that cold stream. Maybe the good sister blames God unjustly for her misfortune. Maybe that donkey just picked that moment to send a message to Sister Teresa. And, if so, I might imagine God having a good laugh. And maybe there are by-standers on the bank who themselves are unable to completely stifle their chuckles at the site of a nun, clothed in veil and habit, soaking wet, climbing up a muddy bank all the while fussing at God. If that be the case, I do hope that she too might see the humor in her situation and find the freedom to join in the laughter for with God not only are all things possible, but all things fall within the wonderful divine drama we call life.

Amen.

[1] Luke 16:13