Proper 21 2014
Guilt can be a powerful emotion. Guilt
can keep people in unhealthy situations—even abusive ones. Guilt can be used to
manipulate us emotionally—obviously this is the secret of the success of some
faith traditions. But in these cases, guilt becomes something that can get us
so muddled, and make us feel so overwhelmed that we can’t function—and we
become stuck. Stuck in behaviors; stuck in unproductive cycles. Guilt can
stifle us so that we can’t think clearly enough to even see a way forward, or
even imagine resolution.
On the other hand, where guilt can
be helpful is in those times when our conscience is somehow stirred, and guilt
becomes the emotion of accountability that prompts us to find appropriate
resolution to whatever it was that triggered us in the first place.
However, again, because guilt is a
potent emotion; we have to be cautioned not to allow it to overwhelm us. As one
of my mentors says, “if guilt doesn’t cause you to change in 15 minutes, it
isn’t worth holding onto it.”
Of course, even if it takes us more
than 15 minutes, the point is well taken that it isn’t productive to carry
guilt around forever; because that’s when we get stunted and stuck.
Our Gospel reading today offers some
examples of these two kinds of guilt. First, we have the Pharisees, who are
passively challenging Jesus. They want to know by whose authority he’s been doing
the things he’s been doing.
If the Gospels are any clue as to
why they’re so out-of-sorts; we can gather that the people are mesmerized not
only by the miraculous signs that Jesus is doing—but, they’re also amazed by
the authority with which Jesus teaches…
In response to their challenges,
then, Jesus responds with a counter-question: “By whose authority did John
baptize?”
Well, the Pharisees knew that John
was popular with the people. So, they weren’t about to say that John’s ministry
wasn’t from God. However, because they knew John was somehow connected to Jesus;
they weren’t willing to risk speaking potential heresy. So, they couldn’t say
that John had authority from God, either.
In the end, they simply told Jesus
that they just didn’t know…
Jesus, of course, knowing the
conundrum he’d put them in, responds finally that if they don’t know about
John, then he wasn’t about to tell them where his own authority came from…
Now, even though this conversation
sounds more suited to a playground than Scripture—we have to understand that
there was a lot at stake for the Pharisees. Again, they feel the burden of the
religious responsibility to their people. To lose face in this
situation—especially to Jesus—could mean losing face with their people, and
that means loss of authority and integrity.
So, could we argue that the
Pharisees were acting out because of guilt? Maybe…
If so, it was probably more that kind of guilt
that burdens people with an overwhelming sense of responsibility—of course,
responsibility to impossible expectations. And, in the case of the Pharisees, they
felt responsible not only for their people, but their culture, and the
observance of the tenets of their faith. Unfortunately, (as we know) this led
them not only to draw hard lines about certain religious issues (which isolated
them); it also led them to impose wearying rules upon the very people they were
supposed to be encouraging to more faithful life. So, even if they didn’t feel
guilt, exactly, they were certainly stuck; and this interaction only
demonstrates the fact.
Well, after putting the Pharisees
in time-out, Jesus tells this parable of two sons. It’s this outlandish story
of their father telling them to go out to work in the vineyard. The first son
says that he won’t go out and work—but later on, goes out to work anyway. The
father tells the other son to also go out and work in the vineyard. This son
says he will, but then doesn’t. Jesus asks them which one did the will of his
father…
Now, because this is a parable,
it’s probably not fair to analyze the motivations of the sons. However, we can
guess that this first son, who initially says he won’t work—eventually comes
around because he feels some responsibility to his father.
Is it guilt that compels the son to
finally get up and do what was asked of him? Perhaps. But the point is that
rather than lingering in indecision and guilt, he checks his conscience and
does the right thing, eventually. However, even though it was a delayed
response, he’s commended for having done his father’s will.
In my time at St. John’s, some of
the recurring themes in my sermons and newsletter articles have been things
like taking our faith seriously; taking responsibility for our relationship
with God; and the importance of integrating our faith with all of the other
parts of our lives. What these themes were meant to lead to is the drive to
live into our call to serve the world in Christ’s name.
In last month’s newsletter, then, I
wrote about some of this—this idea that as a community of faith, we have a
responsibility to live our faith and
find ways to connect the Church to the world—and create opportunities for
others to do the same. And more than just events for people to have fun
together, or feel good—the ideal, of course, is that we do these things because
we’re trying to live out of a deep spiritual place within ourselves. We’re
trying to express a sense of passion about and connection to our faith.
What this does, of course, is it
affirms the faith within us (as individuals), and our collective faith as
well—because, suddenly, faith isn’t simply some abstract thing. Instead, faith
becomes an action. It becomes an impetus for doing all of the little things
that make the world better—and bit by bit, we even find that we’ve been part of
the grander work of changing the world in Christ’s name. This is what it means
to have an Incarnate faith, and what it means to be the Body of Christ
Well, suffice it to say, I didn’t
get a lot of response from the article. Which is okay. It was a difficult
message—both to read, and to write.
However, of the people who did
respond, theirs was more a concern for me—they hoped that I wasn’t feeling
discouraged. And while I wasn’t able to speak to it right then, I would say
that I’m definitely not discouraged. But, maybe I was a little
disappointed—because I can’t do all of the things that I would like to do here,
and I certainly can’t do all of the things that need doing, besides. So, in my
article, rather than a rallying cry, I was a little more frank—and it was my
hope that it might rouse some support.
Yet, for all of those feelings, I
think that what I have been saying is
being heard. Perhaps I just needed to keep saying it until I realized it was being heard.
But, what I think has happened in
the midst of trying to communicate this message, is that when it’s been
heard—instead of provoking action and response… I think it caused guilt,
instead. And guilt, as I said earlier, can cause people to become ‘stuck.’
I mean, of course there are people
who want to be involved in ministries in this place. Of course, people want to
find ways to serve the community; do good works; develop sustainable
ministries…all of that. But I think that when we get caught up in guilt—specifically
guilt because many of us already feel over-committed; guilt because we’re not
sure how to even figure out our place in ministries—it’s when we get caught up
in this sort of guilt that we find ourselves unable to even think and engage
creatively how we can live into this call that the Church and Christ places
before us.
But this is to say that this isn’t
an impossible task, either. Even though we might drive ourselves crazy trying
to manage impossibly demanding schedules, while at the same time trying to
balance personal and family needs…
Yet, the life and work of the Church
is still contingent on us all. And it’s my sense, that if we were to allow
ourselves the mental space to dream a little bit—to put aside the guilt, or
whatever else it might be that keeps us stuck—I really think we could find a
way for people to be involved in all of the most vital areas of this church. I
even think we could find ways to develop other, equally vital ministries and
opportunities to live out our faith together. And we could do this in such a
way that it wouldn’t have to over-burden individuals—in fact, there may be
plenty of ways to incorporate things people are already doing that compliments
the ministry of the church, and still supports the individual. Who knows if
that makes sense to anyone else? But, I’ve seen it work, and it can work well.
So, am I discouraged? No…I don’t
think I am. If anything, I could say that I feel a little stuck. I feel stuck
because I’d begun to feel guilty about things not taking shape the way I’d
imagined or hoped. But, then I don’t think I took my mentor’s advice,
either—and instead of dropping the guilt when it didn’t change me, I held onto
it; and perhaps began to narrow my perspective.
But, when I was in Massachusetts a
couple of weeks ago, I was staying with one of my friends from seminary. I was
telling him a little bit about St. John’s, and happened to mention that we
would be 180 years old in December. To this, he responded—“180, that’s the
number of new beginnings and turn-arounds…”
It was admittedly a pretty cheesy
thing to say…yet, when I started to think about it—especially in light of
today’s Gospel reading—I wondered if, rather than being provocative in my call
to action if I’d instead set-up, even the illusion of an impossible task for
the people of this church.
And, I think it might be possible.
However, the answer to that particular question is up to your own personal
discernment… But if it is true, I would first like to apologize, because that’s
certainly not been my intent (not ever). I’d also like to add, if my seminary
friend’s clever quip has any substance, and our 180th year is a year
of new beginnings; I would like us to be more open to discerning, and dreaming
of how we can be the vital congregation that we know we can be… I’ve been told
any number of times (and I believe it) that a congregation already has
everything that it needs to be vital. So, it’s up to us to identify and tap
into those resources. Finally, if it is guilt that is making us ‘stuck,’ if it
hasn’t caused us to change after this long, it’s not worth holding onto it. So,
I hope you’ll join me in this starting-over, and together we’ll begin to
imagine some resolution, and even a way forward.
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