Last Sunday of Epiphany 2016

Last Sunday of Epiphany 2016 (2013 redux Year C)

Our Gospel reading today tells us that Jesus took Peter, his rash, headstrong disciple; and James and John, the Sons of Thunder up onto a mountain. All three of them were dock workers, and it’s likely that they weren’t the most subtle of individuals. Still, Jesus chose these three to take a trip to a secluded place to pray.

In Luke’s Gospel, all of this takes place just after Peter has confessed that Jesus is the Messiah, and after Jesus has explained that the requirement for discipleship is taking up one’s cross daily. Even still, these three disciples follow Jesus.

As they’re praying, we’re told that suddenly Jesus’ appearance was changed—his clothes became dazzling white, and Moses (this man representing the Law of God) and Elijah (the epitome of Prophetic office) show up and begin chatting with Jesus. It says that they were discussing what Jesus was about to accomplish in Jerusalem…

Now, I’m not sure how anyone knows what they were talking about, because Peter, James and John were falling asleep at the time. But when they realized what was happening, and just how amazing the moment was, Peter said: let us build three tents, tabernacles to house the three of you.

  

Now, the point of these tents, was that they were what Israel had always used to house holy things—whether it was the Ark of the Covenant, or simply a dwelling place for the divine—the tabernacle was the predecessor to the Temple. So, while Peter understood the importance of what he was experiencing, he didn’t quite understand that this was only a brief moment, and not one that could be preserved forever.

Instead, what the Transfiguration was for these disciples, was a moment of divine clarity. It was a moment in which the identity of Jesus Christ was once again affirmed, but it was also a kind of preparation for what was yet to come. Because like in the other synoptic Gospels (Mark and Matthew), the story of the Transfiguration is a major turning point in the narratives. It marks the shift from Jesus’ more broad ministry to his focus on Jerusalem, and eventually his Passion and death.

With that said, I think it’s no mistake that this is the Lectionary reading for today—the last Sunday of Epiphany, and the Sunday right before we plunge headlong into Lent. After all, this event is one which is obviously a major Epiphany, or revelation—but it also marks the beginning of the journey we take with Jesus through Lent that leads to the Cross… And while I suppose the disciples didn’t understand at the time what this moment would eventually mean—I’m sure that it was all the same some form of comfort for them when everything fell apart for them in Jerusalem.

In a similar way, there are very profound moments in our lives, grace-filled moments that call us to pay attention to God in the every-day. These are moments of clarity which we hold on to as evidence of God’s interaction with us.

They may happen when we least expect them, or they may not seem to happen at all. We may not have words for them, but these moments prepare us for the rest of our lives. This isn’t to say that like the Transfiguration these moments signal bad times ahead—rather they may indeed be the things that give us hope in troubling times. Even in times of transition, these moments may be what we need when our footing doesn’t seem so sure, and our roots are all above ground…

But God visits us in these places—these Epiphanies—to give us some touch-stones for mooring when we feel adrift. They serve as points on a compass to give us some direction when we feel lost. So in this way, they have a lasting importance for us.

Unlike the Transfiguration as a single event, however, I believe we can be given multiple revelations of God’s grace—many conversion experiences throughout our lives. Because even though these moments help us to maintain our grounding in Christ—as our spiritual selves grow and mature, our needs are different. What is necessary for us, then, is a more profound call to a deeper, more significant relationship with God. In this way, we’re compelled to grow in our faith and become more and more the people we were created to be.

What’s more, I believe that as we grow, we become more accustomed to the subtly of mystery, and open to the many, diverse ways in which God is revealed in the simplest places… But each of those moments, that we’ve had with God are all part of training us to see more clearly. Of course, while the moments are themselves important—it’s the growth and the clearer sight that matter most. This is why like Peter we can’t simply build a tent and stay in those defining experiences.

However, what can be taken from those life-defining God-moments is the one that we learn from the Transfiguration: when everything is said and done, the one we’re supposed to see most clearly is Jesus Christ alone. Because what we know to be most true is that when all else seems to fail us, beyond moments and experience, it is him that we hold fast to at any point in our lives…and this is what helps change us—even transfigures us into the people God has created us to be.

Epiphany 3 2016

3 Epiphany 2016 Redux of 2013 (Year C)

There is an old saying that a camel is a race horse that was designed by committee. The joke here, of course, is that while the camel represents the combination of a lot of wonderful characteristics—it looks very little like a race horse. In other words, there is no guarantee that a whole bunch of “good ideas” will all add up to one super-great idea… And the saying only serves to illustrate how messy, and sometimes counter-productive the work of committees can be at times.

This isn’t a slight against group work (or meant as an offense to camels), rather it reminds us that individuals doing group work must always keep the group’s purpose in mind, developing plans that suit their purpose. In the case of the camel joke, even apparently good ideas can come together to create something that looks nothing like a race horse.

In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, we can see how the Apostle is trying to help these believers to understand that each person in the community of faith is called to their particular role in the life of the Church. And, using this extended metaphor of the human body, he describes that as each person finds their role, and lives into it, the body (or rather the Church) functions in a healthy, vital way.

  

What’s more, Paul makes it clear that no matter what the part or role in the Church—all are necessary. So in this case, more like the camel, the Body of Christ (wherever it is found) is given exactly what it needs to be what it is supposed to be within its context… In other words, camels may be appropriate where race horses are not, and vice versa—the problem is in knowing the difference.

Anyway, this concept that Paul uses is most likely something that he borrowed from Disney Pixar films. Whether we’re talking about Inside Out, or Minions we find characters who don’t always seem to fit in, but later find their place. But there is also the affirmation that no matter what, we all have our particular role in the wider world—that’s regardless of quirks, or even mistakes we’ve made along the way.

It’s a pretty standard plot for all of their movies, and it works in a number of different genres. And the reason it works, is because it’s something that we need to hear regularly. All of us experience times in life where we need to figure out our respective places. We have times and places where we’re suddenly made aware of our shortcomings, or even our particular eccentricities, and we may find ourselves in those times wondering how our lives fit into the grander scheme of things. The problem is that with Disney Pixar, everything seems to come together for the protagonists in a big, clear way. Whereas, for the rest of us; we may have to settle for a bit more subtlety. Meaning and purpose for most of us is a bit more murky.

But with all of that said, the Disney Pixar formula will continue to sell because it gives us a kind of hope that we can find our places in life. And maybe we can if we start to take to heart our call and vocation of faith and implement it into our lives. And yet the truth is, finding one’s purpose and place in life was old news even when Paul was writing about it in the late First Century…not much had even changed back then.

However, rather than be discouraged, we should be comforted by the fact that we’re not the first to try to figure this all out. All the same we may wonder what chance we have in succeeding where so many others have fallen short. And in this case, I think figuring out this idea of one’s place in the life of the Church is task enough for one sermon.

But where do we even begin to understand that task? Well, like so many things in the spiritual life, we begin with prayer and discernment. Our prayer is the asking, “where are we needed,” and the work of showing-up to wait for God’s call. And discernment has this idea of carefully unraveling tangled threads. In this case, we’re called to untangle our talents and gifts to try and make connections to those things God needs for us to do as people of faith.

All of this is then very much rooted in our community—specifically the places that each of us come from, the places and concerns we bring with us when we come to church. This also includes the community and place where St. John’s is located, this community where this church was called to be planted over 180 years ago. And when all of these pieces: discernment of gifts, prayer, being in dialogue with the needs of our communities and families; the questions of whether or not the Church is relevant or vital just become irrelevant.

This is because the meaning of who we are is so inextricably part of our work and mission. We operate as a body because we are a Body—the Body of Jesus Christ in the world. 

The trick, however, is getting all of the parts to understand that they need to work, and work toward a common purpose. We already know that each one of us is necessary—we just haven’t all recognized that each of us have parts to play in the operation of a healthy body. What’s more, it doesn’t help for toes and ears to do one thing, while the nose and knees are doing another—all the while the Body needs to eat, or go to work… Suddenly we find the Body in disarray and the simple, necessary tasks go untended, and eventually the whole Body suffers. So, it’s not a matter even of certain groups being simply “active.” For the Body to function properly, all of the Body, each of its parts must work together as intentional action. In this way, the Body’s operation can be healthy and meaningful—lively and graceful, rather than something that moves in a shambling rigor mortis. We’re the resurrected Body of Christ not a zombie.

So where is your place in this Body? What part do you play in this risen, world-changing life of the baptized? Whatever it is, regardless of how small it may appear to some—please trust that it is no less essential. And, if your part seems like a really big role, almost overwhelming—well, please believe that there will be provision and help, because each part of the Body relies upon another for its fullest participation in life.

The Body of Christ is anything but a racehorse designed by committee. Instead, the Church is the Bride of Christ, redeemed by his blood, and called the children of God. So if we have all that we need to be who we are meant to be, and who we are is truly essential to the people of this world—why wouldn’t we try to take our places in the work?  

Epiphany 2 2016

2 Epiphany 2016 (Year C)

I remember once in college someone asking me with all sincerity what my spiritual gifts were. And, as ever, being the glib rapscallion, I believe I said I could levitate and make perfect omelets.

In truth I admit I can’t levitate, but I can make pretty tasty omelets—the secret in this case is butter, and not necessarily the Holy Spirit. But that’s to say I suspect if any of us were asked what we believed our spiritual gifts to be—I would imagine many of us would be at a loss.

Maybe it’s because we don’t make much of the gifts of the Spirit in the Episcopal Church—I mean, sure we talk about the “sevenfold gifts (or fruits) of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, right judgment, courage, knowledge, reverence and fear (or wonder) of the Lord.” These are easy, because these are all still pretty intellectual. They don’t require us to really think outside of our theoretical comfort zones.

And yet, in our reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we find there are these other gifts like utterances of wisdom, knowledge and faith (sure), but then there are still others like gifts of healing, working miracles (perhaps not turning water to wine…but), prophecy, discernment of spirits, speaking in tongues and discerning of tongues.

  

It’s actually a pretty interesting list—but is no doubt one that makes us a little uncomfortable in mainline denominations like ours. After all, things like speaking in tongues and miracles are more the style of Charismatic Pentecostals than they are the Episcopal Church. Although, there have been some cases in which Roman Catholic Churches, and even Episcopal Churches have experienced some charismatic renewal stuff—but, whether it lasted, or was even legitimate, I can’t really say.

But I think the point is that we’re told that all of these things—these gifts—the ones we’re comfortable with, and even those we’re less comfortable with; Paul says they are all manifestations of the same Spirit. He also says that this variety of gifts that the Spirit manifests in us, as the Church, are activated in us for the common good. I would assume he means for the good of the Church, but we may even by extension say the whole world besides. Yet for however amazing, or showy any of these gifts may be, Paul is careful here, and in other places in his epistles, to remind us that the gifts are all important, and all necessary to the good of the Church—and because each is equally given by the same Holy Spirit which dwells in each one of us, any such gift should be utilized with humility.

Now, it should be said that this idea of humility is part and parcel for all that Paul was trying to teach the Church in Corinth. We know from his half of the conversation that there were some very dysfunctional things going on—many of which were simply related to these people losing sight of what it meant to be followers of Jesus.

It seems they had become so comfortable in their own version of Christianity, that they had begun to neglect the responsibilities that come with being a Christian. In the end, there was a lot of petty bickering, division, and abuse of power and gifts—hence Paul’s explanation about the gifts of the Spirit… And, while the things that happened in the Church in Corinth could never possibly happen ever again, we can at least take away this lesson on spiritual gifts.

Anyway, along with these gifts that Paul talks about in this letter to the Corinthians, I think it’s fair to say that there are a multitude of other possible gifts of the Spirit which could be given for the good of the Church. Karl Rahner, the late Vatican II theologian infers something of this in one of his Epiphany sermons. He writes, referring to Paul’s letter to the Romans, this idea that “whatever we have to do can be a vocation to God…” In other words, any job that any one of us is called to—whether it is church-related or not—can be part of our work as the Church. Any of the places we bring ourselves and our faith can be, as Rahner puts it, “our one chance to be Christian (Rahner 97).”

So, whether it is in the Church, or in the world the Holy Spirit gives and activates gifts in us (as Paul says) for the common good, and (as Karl Rahner says) so that we can make our lives a vocation to God. Yet, regardless of the gift, each is to be received and used with equal humility. And, this is to say that there are any number of potential spiritual gifts beyond those which Paul names.

  

 Certainly within the life of a church alone, we know there are plenty of places where people are needed. Only we may take for granted that such people are “spiritually gifted” because not every role in church life is sensational. Still, each of us has an important role in the Body of Christ, and the Holy Spirit gives us the specialized gifts we need to carry out those roles, whether they seem mundane or not. And while that gift might not be levitation, I suppose there are ways in which a really good omelet could be useful. That said, perhaps thinking about your own spiritual gifts might not feel so awkward…

However, I would like to add that while we may have an easier time accepting or identifying with spiritual gifts that seem more conventional within the context of our tradition—I would still add that I believe that those gifts mentioned by Paul are still relevant, and necessary when they genuinely emerge in the the Church. I trust that when and where they show up—assuming they’re utilized for the common good, in humility—they can be vital to God’s mission in the world.

The point to all of this is that as the Church, we have a responsibility to the mission and work of God’s Kingdom. We’re promised in this work that the Holy Spirit will enable within us the operation of certain gifts—some apparently pretty common, and others a bit more out of the norm. And this is to say that God’s love for us, and love for the world is such that any of us may be challenged in unexpected ways to be part of this work of love. But we’re promised to have whatever gift is necessary to the task.

So, for us, if we aren’t already discerning how we’re called to be part of God’s mission, we might begin our discernment with that. If we do know how God has called us to work, then perhaps we need to pray for and discern the gifts we’ve been given by the Holy Spirit. And whether that means making omelets, or speaking in tongues; we must always use our gifts with gratitude and humility.

Epiphany 1: Baptism of Our Lord 2016

1 Epiphany: Baptism of Our Lord 2016 (Year C)

I’m sure you’ll all be glad to know that the Three Wise Men arrived safely at the manger on Wednesday after their long traverse along the walls of the church. Wednesday, of course, being the Feast of Epiphany—the start of the season in which we celebrate God’s revelation in Jesus. In the case of the Wise Men, Jesus is revealed to these kings from different parts of the world, effectively fulfilling another of the prophecies of the Old Testament prophet, Isaiah.

Anyway, today, we’ve fast-forwarded to the baptism of Jesus—because not only does Jesus commend baptism to all of us who would follow him, but is also one of the places in which Jesus is revealed as the Messiah by John the Baptist, and finally a voice from heaven.

Now, unlike many of us, Jesus was not baptized as a baby, but is an adult when he has found his way to the River Jordan, and is baptized by his cousin John the Baptist. As I’ve already mentioned, John acts as a spokesperson for Jesus, pointing out to the gathered crowds that Jesus was the Messiah that God had promised. And if there was any doubt left to the people, a voice from heaven affirms this fact.

However, before Jesus shows up, we’re told that there are these people standing around trying to figure out whether or not John is the Messiah. This guy who’s come out of the deep desert, wearing camel hair and calling everyone a brood of vipers—this is the guy that they suspect could be the promised Messiah of God.

  

But I suppose that even though this might seem like an odd conclusion, we should remember that these people were coming out not to find an eccentric Baptist preaching. Instead, they came out looking for a prophet—someone who would preach the truth, no matter how difficult it might be to hear. Because, as it turned out, for these people who were oppressed by a foreign power, oppressed by their leaders, and even oppressed by their religion; I would expect that a fresh (even fiery) revelation of truth would have been more than welcome. After all, sometimes tearing-off the band aid, even though it stings a little bit, is a wonderful relief.

And yet, there were obviously still some in the crowd who were detractors. There were still people whose own power and position in life were threatened by what John was preaching, and these were certainly the same type of people who took issue with Jesus.

The strange thing is, these scribes and Pharisees (that we hear about all the time in the New Testament) actually held many of the same core values that Jesus and John were teaching. The Pharisees were students and scholars of the Law and the Prophets—they spent most of their lives studying, learning and teaching this stuff. And the scribes were basically like scholars of the Law, and like the Pharisees, they should have been very familiar with the things Jesus was telling people.

  

So, in the same way that it’s probably a little weird to have people wondering whether or not the same wild guy that had called all of them a brood of vipers was the Messiah; I suppose it’s only fair that the religious leaders with the same core values as both Jesus and John should be the very ones to persecute them and their followers. Actually, it kind of gives me a headache trying to figure it out…and I’m a fan of irony.

But, we may ask whether or not there is something more going on in these situations. Perhaps there are forces that are stronger that are at work in these people, and causing them to react and behave in such odd ways.

One thought could be this psychological phenomenon called “Groupthink.” This is effectively something that can happen with groups of people which cause them to—as the term infers—lose a sense of self individuation, and begin following the group in an unquestioning way. We obviously see this in religious cults, and even in radical terrorist and fundamentalist groups, but some of the same antecedents are even at work in more familiar places, as well. This can include things like churches, social clubs, and governments.

 In fact, there have been major corporations which have gone under because of an inability to react to imminent problems, or to address situations clearly—and these were largely due to this loss of clear individual thought within the board. So, effectively, those things which the people knew to be reasonable or right were overridden by the groupthink…

Some other places where Groupthink has been identified are in the long held values of people aligned in conservative and liberal politics, and even subcultures within sports. The symptoms of this effect, as far as one research psychologist, Irving Janis, has identified are as follows:

Type I: Overestimations of the group — its power and morality

1.   Illusions of invulnerability creating excessive optimism and encouraging risk taking.

2.   Unquestioned belief in the morality of the group, causing members to ignore the consequences of their actions.

Type II: Closed-mindedness

1.   Rationalizing warnings that might challenge the group's assumptions.

2.   Stereotyping those who are opposed to the group as weak, evil, biased, spiteful, impotent, or stupid.

Type III: Pressures toward uniformity

1.   Self-censorship of ideas that deviate from the apparent group consensus.

2.   Illusions of unanimity among group members, silence is viewed as agreement.

3.   Direct pressure to conform placed on any member who questions the group, couched in terms of "disloyalty"

4.   Mindguards— self-appointed members who shield the group from dissenting information.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groupthink#Symptoms

Anyway, we could probably think of places in our own experiences where these were symptoms of an unhealthy group. But, that’s to say, I’m sure just from a few of the challenges that the scribes and Pharisees posed to Jesus, we can easily see that their coming from a very insular group perspective…so much so that they’re forced not only to oppose their own people, but even persecute and conspire to kill their own Messiah and prophet. 

I suppose given all of the external pressures placed on them—trying to hold on to their cultural and religious autonomy—we can probably surmise the reasons the Pharisees would be threatened by Jesus and John the Baptist. After all, in turbulent times false prophets and messiahs can become common danger. In fact, we even read about some of them in Scripture.

But that’s to say, we can also see how dangerous Groupthink can be if it is left unchecked—whether it leads to the bankruptcy of a major corporation, or even persecuting the Son of God. However in our own circles we won’t likely find ourselves conspiring to kill anyone (hopefully), but we should keep in mind that a number of people being recruited by groups like ISIS were average, educated, middle-class people. So, it may mean more than our political leanings that are affected if we’re not attentive.

Anyway, while Groupthink may explain groups like the scribes and Pharisees—I don’t know that it fairly explains the rest of the crowd that gathered at the river that day. After all, the whole reason these crowds of people were full of anticipation was because they were still holding on to a healthy skepticism about John. Sure, they saw him as a prophet, and prophets were known to be a little harsh. After all, how else can we expect to woke up from our apathy and delusion without a little jolt? So, in actuality, with all of his beckoning and strong preaching, John actually seems a reasonable candidate for Messiahship. He certainly wasn’t afraid to offer people a different perspective…

However, as we know, John the Baptist was preparing the way for Jesus. Yet, like Jesus after him, John calls out to the people to wake up and claim their birthright as world changers. Jesus, equally calls people to wake up—whether it was teaching crowds, or talking to individuals—he calls us to wake up and trust in God’s relationship to us. What all of this amounts to, then, isn’t some sort of religious anarchy, but instead calls us to take seriously what it means to be followers of Jesus. And this is something distinctly different from Groupthink if we take it seriously.

Because, what we find in Jesus call to all of us, and what we continue to come back to in the promises we find in baptism is that all of this begins with a change in our hearts. And even though we come together to find agreement in the Holy Spirit, this is not the same thing as uniformity. Instead we’re each called by God, with all of our individuality and talents to be involved in the continued work of salvation in the world. And in spite of what Christian fundamentalists will continue to preach; in spite of what Roman Catholicism has enforced since the 12^th Century; and in spite of what we have come to believe is “expected” of us in the Episcopal Church…the way of Jesus Christ which we follow is not a matter of conformity to doctrine, it’s a matter of conversion of life. But this is a thing which isn’t regulated by the Church…like, no one gets to tell you the rules for being transformed mind and soul by the Spirit of God (Baptism is a good start, but meeting Jesus might be a better one).

The point of is, it’s much easier to become conformed to the mindset and beliefs of a group than we probably think. In fact, when we’re part of a subculture that has its own stories, traditions, initiation rites; it’s quite easy to find our own perspectives shifting. And when we’re part of a sub-set of a larger sub-culture, like in a local congregation for instance, it’s even easier to become a little lost in the group identity, and even begin to agree with things, and believe certain things that we normally wouldn’t do outside of that context.

  

But this is exactly the kind of thing that our baptism calls us out from—it’s exactly the thing that Jesus calls us out from. Because while we have joined the family of God in our Baptism, we can never forget that we are called to our life in Jesus, and our life in the Church because of who we already are—not what it seems like we ought to become. The Church needs each one of us—healthy, differentiate individuals—to continue the work God has begun in Jesus Christ.

5 Epiphany 2015

5 Epiphany 2015

Our Gospel reading today finds Jesus going to Simon Peter’s house after having a bit of adventure in the local synagogue. Some of you might remember in last week’s reading that Jesus was teaching in the synagogue, and the people were amazed at the authority with which he taught. And no sooner do the people say this than some possessed guy jumps up and starts getting belligerent with Jesus. 

However, without missing a beat, Jesus tells the spirit to shut up, and casts it out of the guy—which only further proves his authority.

As I explained last week, the authority of Jesus is one of the themes of the Gospel of Mark. So, we see throughout the narrative these places in which Jesus has command not only in his teaching, but also in signs and wonders. Some scholars are quick to point out that his authority and power are held up in Mark’s Gospel to show that Jesus isn’t just some really impressive magician, or pagan ‘holy man.’ Instead, just as the beginning of Mark says, he’s the Son of God, and one of the ways that Jesus proves his son-ship is by reminding everyone that his power comes from God. And, as we see in Jesus’ example, authority is something that is vested in someone—and isn’t something that is taken by force. That’s often the kind of power that gets abused.

Anyway, today’s reading follows directly after last week’s, and we find Jesus and his disciples going to Capernaum, to Simon Peter’s house. We read that when they arrive, they find that Peter’s mother-in-law was sick in bed (insert mother-in-law joke here). Anyway, Jesus goes and heals her, and she gets up and makes everyone a nice cup of tea…or whatever.

Of course, it’s not long before everyone hears that Jesus is in town—and because he’s cheaper than their HMOs, the people start flocking in droves to be healed. And whether it’s because there were so many people that Peter’s wife couldn’t get the car out of the garage to make her nail appointment; or because Jesus finally put up the “Office Closed” sign—the people leave for the night.

Before anyone stirs, and even before the sun is up; Jesus goes to a deserted place to pray. Either he’s trying to get his focus together for another day of healing, or it’s something more… But the reading ends with Peter and the disciples finding him. It even says they “hunted him…” When they find Jesus, they ask him what he’s doing—“everyone is searching for [him].”

It’s almost like Jesus has suddenly become either a reclusive child, or disappointing side-show. Whatever the case, it’s obvious that who he is (with all of his authority and power), and what his mission was (repentance and the promise of God’s Kingdom) had become completely obscured by what Jesus could do for them at that moment…

But, completely nonplussed, Jesus gets up and tells the disciples that it’s time to leave so that he can proclaim the message, because that is what he came to do. And they leave. We’re told Jesus preaches, and even continues to heal people and cast out demons.

I suppose, by this time, we’re all sort of used to Jesus doing weird things that we don’t fully understand. After all, he’s tall dark and messianic—he has to be mysterious. But, that doesn’t help us to understand why he would suddenly ‘stop’ healing people who might really have needed it to instead go and proclaim the Kingdom elsewhere…that’s a tough thing to consider.

Yet, at the same time, if we are willing to struggle with it; what I think we eventually come to is the greater context of the story. It says that the whole city was gathered at the door. These people didn’t even leave until sometime in the night, and the next morning when Jesus is away praying, even his disciples seem offended that he wasn’t up and ready for another day of miracles in Capernaum. In fact, it even says they “hunted him,” which just feels wrong.

Really, it’s only then that Jesus tells them that they need to move along, because, it’s obvious that if he remains in town, he will simply be some obscure faith healer. And, let’s be honest, with the way things were going for him that first day, he could probably spend years there just healing every person who came along…which, would actually be a good thing.

However, this wasn’t what Jesus was sent to do…as good as healing the people in Capernaum was, his mission was bigger, and for him to remain faithful, he needed to leave and continue onward.

Now, there is part of me that believes that this was a hard decision for him to make. I do believe that he had compassion for every one of these people—and it’s probably all the more reason he needed to pray to get the clarity and release he needed to go and continue his ministry. After all, he was vested with the power and authority that God had given him; and as is always the case with the authority any of us is given, we have to be humble and obedient—even if it means making difficult choices.

For most of us, the point of this may not be as easy to apply to our individual lives. But, then, some of us may know what it’s like to have to choose between staying home with children or going to work; it may be deciding to leave a secure job to pursue your passion or true vocation in life…who knows? But I do know that it applies very easily to the Church, and the continual need for congregations to pray about, and discern what mission and ministry God is calling them to in the world.

The irony, perhaps, is that when we do this work of prayerful discernment, it may call us to discontinue one ministry in favor of beginning a new one.

Yesterday I attended a meeting for Mission congregations, and one of the things that they talked about was this idea that most church programs have a three-year life-cycle. In fact, if a program has continued beyond three-years without any conversation about adjusting it or changing it; they pointed out that it can either become a source of anxiety, or even toxicity for the congregation.

And while we may agree or disagree with the research, what we do have to admit is that whether it’s three-years, more or less, there is most certainly a life-cycle for programs. So, it seems only natural that we would want to have honest conversations about them so that we can be sure that we’re being good stewards of our resources—both human and otherwise. The difficulty, however, is that there is sometimes too much personal and emotional DNA enmeshed with certain things, and so instead of discussing program offerings, or events objectively; we find ourselves in pitched, emotional battles that can’t be resolved cleanly.

But the question then remains, if we give in, even to emotionally charged and enmeshed personalities about things, simply to keep a few people happy…Can we say that we’re still being faithful to what God may be calling us to?

In the same way, should we ignore our responsibility to ask and listen for God’s leading, simply because we might feel settled and comfortable in what we may be doing now—regardless of how important it may seem?

Personally I don’t think we can. I don’t believe that we’re being faithful to God if we’re not willing to have the strength to pick-up, and move forward, because we know full well what our call in this world is… And it doesn’t matter if you feel like you’ve done your time; it doesn’t matter if you feel like you’re too busy; it doesn’t matter if you think that faith is just a weekly obligation to fulfill… Because as we found out today, it doesn’t even matter if your name is Jesus Christ, and you’ve been sitting outside Simon Peter’s house healing everybody all throughout Capernaum. The fact is, the message, the Gospel, the hope of the Kingdom of God, and God’s forgiveness and love for us is bigger and more important than any one of us. So, if that’s real to you, and it’s here (in your heart), I can tell you it’s never too soon to start praying and discerning—because everyone of us has a message to proclaim.

By the way, if you forgot what that is, it’s that God loves you; Jesus saved you; and that justifies you. Very simple. But it’s up to each one of us to figure out what that means to us, and how each of us are called to share it in our individual ways. 

3 Epiphany 2015

3 Epiphany 2015

Today’s Gospel reading is something of a continuation of the story of Jesus calling his disciples—even though last week we read from John’s Gospel, and today pick up in Mark’s. It’s a surprisingly short reading, but one that packs some punch if we’re paying attention.

We’re told that John the Baptist had been arrested, and Jesus shows up on the scene preaching the same message John had been, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." It’s a simple message, but one which had all of Judea rushing to the riverside to meet John (apparently)—not for fear of the coming wrath, but because (I think) these people hadn’t heard such good solid truth in all their born days, and (I also think) what John preached then, and what Jesus is preaching here was not cheap…

Anyway, as Jesus made his way along the waterfront, (a little like Karl Malden’s Fr. Berry), he finds these guys—dockworkers at best—at their daily labor. We know from what happens next that this is probably work all of them had done their entire lives—this was a family business. All the same, with a simple invitation, Jesus convinces Simon (later called Peter), Andrew and the two “Sons of Thunder” (James and John) to leave everything behind to become fishers of people.

Now, I can’t give you any absolute idea of what these men were like, but I don’t suppose they were the type of guys who spent their free time studying Torah. We can gather this from nicknames like Peter (which means rock) and “Sons of Thunder,” names better suited to a boxing ring than a mission from God.

Still…they knew enough that when a rabbi invites you to be a disciple, it’s an honor. Then again, how many rabbis could these guys have known? How sensible would leaving their lives and livelihood behind sound to men who worked hard for their daily bread? In other words, what on earth would cause these men to drop everything and follow Jesus?

Well, our natural inclination might be to say that they followed because he’s Jesus… But we have to remember that this is right at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He’s still preaching John’s sermons, and isn’t famous enough to appear on grilled cheese sandwiches yet. However, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that they responded to Jesus, because like John, what Jesus was preaching was hope, and truth—and it seems to me that Simon, Andrew, James and John were dying for it. And in a world that was probably buzzing with the legalism of the Pharisees and Sadducees; brimming with the angst of oppression; and near-bursting with the energy of revolution—promises of salvation were a dime-a-dozen, and there was probably a messiah on every street corner. But, a guy who preached truth, and invited people to a new life, and a new way of living—that was something. More importantly, what Jesus promised was far from cheap, and is why everyone on a boat that day wasn’t following him like the pied-piper.

Then again, we know that as Jesus’ ministry began to pick up steam, there were times when the crowds were so thick, it was all he could do to get away to pray once in a while. So long as Jesus was doing miracles, feeding thousands of people and preaching good sermons—the people couldn’t get enough.

Of course, it’s not until he sets his sights on Jerusalem and warns the people about the cost of discipleship that the crowd begins to go thin. This, of course, is because for all that what Jesus promises is true, it also comes at great risk, and personal cost.

And this is something that I think many people find too difficult to accept.

In the spiritual classic The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer talks at length about what true discipleship asks of us. Bonhoeffer, of course, was a pastor and theologian who was martyred in a Nazi concentration camp in 1945 because of his work against the Nazi party. So, I suppose we can trust that he knows what he’s talking about in this regard.

Warning against what he terms “cheap grace,” Bonhoeffer says:

          The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance; and,                             because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing... Cheap grace is the grace we                   bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring                             repentance, baptism without church discipline. Communion without confession,                                   absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace                     without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate...

         

          [Costly grace] is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye                         which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his                     nets and follows him...

                  Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to           follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it                        gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it                        justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son.

There is this wonderful hymn in our hymnals that not too many people get to see. It’s Hymn 661, and it’s called “They cast their nets in Galilee.” Strangely enough, the hymn tune is sort of calm, and lovely—but if you take a moment to read the words of the hymn—the contrast is almost startling. 

They say:

 They cast their nets in Galilee
Just off the hills of brown
Such happy simple fisherfolk
Before the Lord came down

Contented peaceful fishermen
Before they ever knew
The peace of God That fill'd their hearts
Brimful and broke them too.

Young John who trimmed the flapping sail,
Homeless, in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net,
Head-down was crucified.

The peace of God, it is no peace,
But strife closed in the sod,
Yet, let us, pray for but one thing -
The marvelous peace of God.

 I suppose we can guess why it doesn’t get a lot of air play. It’s far from happy-clappy, and there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of “good news” in it—especially for a church hymn. But, what I think I find so amazing about it is that it’s true. It doesn’t try to sugar coat what was waiting for the disciples when they followed Jesus that day. It doesn’t water-down what the Gospel cost them, and it doesn’t obscure what our faith asks of all of us. Because the call of Jesus on our lives is the call to follow wherever the road leads—and if his way is any indication, we know that the way leads to the cross, on this side of things.

And yet, I have to believe for people in our day and age who live in a culture of plastic, illusion and false promises—a little bit of truth goes a long, long way…even if it means our lives. Because, like Simon, Andrew, James and John; I feel like we’re treading the water of a very selfish culture that tempts us with all that we think we could want. On the other hand we want to play with the gasoline of faith, and the fire of the Holy Spirit… And do we think that this combination is going to lead to anything good?

It seems to me then, that we’re people just as desperate for something real as Simon, Andrew, and the Sons of Thunder… “Our hearts drunk with the wine of the world,” we wait for something true, something good, something real to rouse us from the dizzy muddle. Today we hear the words again, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people…” It’s as much a call to us today, as it was to those four disciples 2,000 years ago. And, as the great umpire, Bill Klem, said famously, “[a pitch] ain’t nothing till I call it.”

So, today, like every day, we have a choice to make. Will it be cheap grace, that asks very little of us, but does little for us or anyone besides? Or will we choose costly grace? Grace which tempts us to drop our nets and follow; grace which asks everything of us, and will doubtless break our hearts and us right along with it.

I’ll just say that we don’t have to look very far to see what cheap grace is worth. The news, local and global, are proof enough of what cheap grace costs us. So, with that in mind, and for all that it will cost us, are we willing to choose costly grace? Because we’re all dying for it, and so is the world…

2 Epiphany 2015

2 Epiphany 2015

“Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

This may actually be one of my favorite statements in Scripture. After all, Nathaniel is doing what any of us might do, considering the situation.

Nathaniel was probably comfortable at home when Phillip showed up to drag him off to see the Messiah—and guess what? He comes from the backwoods of Kentucky! Well, Nazareth, anyway… And so, Nathaniel responded pretty honestly in his skepticism…“Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

It’s kind of refreshing to find this sort of frankness, I think—especially in a “call” narrative, where Jesus is calling his disciples to follow him. I suppose I would just assume a little more romanticism to the moment, y’know? Maybe some doves, or butterflies, or fire—even fiery doves and butterflies…but, then, I suppose it’s not so much the moment of the calling that has the profound meaning—it’s what one does in responding to the call…

My own call to the priesthood was pretty lack-luster, actually. I remember I was driving my parents’ minivan with a couch hanging out the back. Our plans to go to Taiwan to teach English had fallen through, and Charity and I were moving our stuff into my parents’ garage, because we had given up our apartment…

Well, in situations like that (when you’re in your early 20’s), it’s hard to believe that your life isn’t over. So, while I was driving the 20 minutes to my parents’ house, I was freaking out, and trying to pray and listen for some idea or direction for what could be next. Without going to Taiwan, we couldn’t afford to pay for our Masters’ Degrees, and without a graduate degree, there isn’t a lot one can do with a Bachelors’ Degree in English…

So, as I drove, I started to think about a calling to ordained ministry that I thought I had years ago, which led me to college in the first place. But it was hard to take seriously because I had also rethought that calling, and switched to an English major when I realized that the Assemblies of God wasn’t for me…it’s also when I became Episcopalian.

However, for all that I tried to reason my way out of it—I couldn’t ignore it. Can anything good come from Lakemore, Ohio? (That’s the town I’m from originally.) We literally didn’t even have “one traffic light” until they annexed a few streets that had them some years back.

Anyway, as to anything good—I suppose that’s yet to be seen; but, I will say that after some discernment with Charity, and some other trusted people…I began the process and was ordained; and, as you might guess, it’s been easy peasey ever since. (I know, but when is it ever really “easy peasey,” especially when God calls us?)

I mean, even if we look at the call story of the Prophet Samuel—even though it has this charm to it, we know that things got really rough for him in his ministry.

After all, Samuel was the last of the Judges of Israel in the time before they had a king, and he was responsible for anointing Saul as king over Israel (even though he thought it was a terrible idea). He was also responsible for finding and anointing David as king—but these all happen much later.

In our reading, however, we find young Samuel, who had been given to the priesthood as a child, being awakened in the night by a voice calling his name. Of course, we know from the text that it’s the voice of God—but to this little boy, Samuel, he thinks it is Eli, the elderly priest who cares for him.

So, after a few times of having Samuel wake him up, Eli finally realizes what’s happening—and he tells Samuel that the next time he hears the voice, he should respond, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening…” And we know he’s called to serve God as a Prophet—and, we know from the very beginning that it won’t be an easy career choice. But, like the disciples generations later, Samuel responded to God’s call.

Now in talking about all of this, I hope you don’t have the impression that God’s call to ministry is only stuff for ordained people…in fact, as Bp. Lee often reminds us, “God calls us all to minister, and the Church calls some of us to vocation.” He also points out that there is only one Priest in the New Testament, and that’s Jesus. In other words, the calling of God is not about selecting a few to do the work of the Church, but is a call to all of God’s people to Kingdom work.

This is what we affirm at our Baptism, and is what we affirm in our Catechism (the Outline of the Faith). So, we claim this identity as workers for God’s Kingdom, even as we claim Christ’s name as our own, and ourselves Children of God. These things are inseparable—and for thick or thin, richer and poorer, we’re challenged to commit ourselves again and again to this call to make Christ known, and for the work of building-up God’s Kingdom.

But that’s to say, that responding to this call, seriously, is not necessarily easy. This isn’t because God is cruel, or ruthless—but because it’s difficult to hold on to faith in this life, and the world presents us any number of challenges…and depending on where we live in the world, our faith may literally be a matter of our life or our death. And it’s when we understand this, on an essential level in ourselves, that we begin to see that our worship and our prayer is more than simply time to relax. This is our time to prepare for the true work of the Church, the Kingdom, which actually begins outside of these doors.

I really do understand that it’s a lot to ask of people, though. I know that if we really had a firm grasp on what our faith actually asks of us, we may start to see tumbleweeds rolling down the center aisle for lack of people on Sundays. But, that doesn’t change the truth of it.

Who knows, maybe if we could go back in time, we could ask ourselves, or our parents or Godparents if they were really sure they wanted to go through with this Baptism thing with all that it demands and entails. Maybe someone would have had the good sense to say “no, that’s too much to ask…”

But then, I don’t know that anyone would do things differently, if they’d met Jesus somewhere in their lives, too.

If the disciples had any idea of what following Jesus would mean for their lives, would they have decided not to follow?

If Samuel could have guessed that, even after Eli’s family was punished by God, that he would find himself in any number of other difficult situations with kings of Israel and foreign kings besides… If he could have foreseen all of that, would he still have responded to God’s call?

Honestly, something tells me all of them probably would have done it all again—because there is something so profound and life altering about meeting Jesus, about hearing God.

Yet, again, there is nothing simple, and certainly nothing safe about God’s calling. Yet, because we’re called in love, by Jesus, to share love; I suppose we find ourselves compelled to respond all the same, no matter what comes our way. However, because we have responded to this call to be followers of Christ Jesus, we are very much ministers—all of us, fellow workers for the Kingdom of God. But what will each of us do with this ministry?

Feast of the Epiphany 2015

Feast of the Epiphany 2015

According to one legend, when the Holy Family left Bethlehem to go to Egypt, to flee King Herod, Jesus was given a t-shirt, which read: “Three Wise Kings came to my birth from the Far East, and all I got was gold, frankincense, myrrh and this lousy t-shirt.”

Well, even if it’s not true, I suppose this is how rumors, not legends, get started…

Anyway, we begin the Epiphany season with the arrival of these Three Wise Men—Kings from the Far East who have followed a star to bring gifts to the newborn king of Israel. This is, of course, after an awkward detour to visit King Herod, the vassal king of Israel. (That’s vassal king, spelled V-A-S-S-A-L, in case you might have misheard me.) And it means that Herod was a king only by the authority of Rome.

Well, the Wise Men, who are a little surprised that Herod doesn’t know about Jesus, sort of wise-up (the pun was intended), and even though Herod says he wants them to come back and let him know where to find the newborn king (so he can also pay homage); the Wise Men realize he’s not to be trusted. So, after finding the infant Jesus and family, they return to the East by a different way.

As to the gifts they brought to Jesus—the gold would be helpful, but we might wonder why in the world they would bring frankincense and myrrh (items used to prepare people for burial). (Perhaps for effective foreshadowing…) But, then, that’s to say that the whole story is a bit odd. I mean, what would bring three, apparently important guys from the Far East (wherever that is) to greet a baby?

Newborn king or not, these guys were kings themselves—and I can’t imagine why they’d have any interest in the political (let alone religious) climate of Israel. It’s possible that where they came from, the Roman Empire hadn’t spread…so, what would make them travel all that way?

We’re told they followed a star—sure. This could have been a really important astrological sign to them. But we have no indication that after they visited Jesus that they converted, or suddenly took any more interest in him. We’re told that this was to fulfil prophecy, which is a common theme in Matthew’s Gospel…but, still, I can’t help but wonder , “why?” What was it that made these Three Kings travel to see the newborn Jesus? What did they hope to find?

Jesus, later on in Matthew’s Gospel, asks a similar question of the people after John the Baptist’s disciples had come to him. He asks the crowd about John. He says:

          ‘What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What                         then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft                         robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you,                        and more than a prophet.

 He says; "Truly, I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John 

           the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of 

          John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent 

          take it by force. For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John came; and if you                       are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. Let anyone with ears listen!"

Jesus basically forces the people to think honestly about why so many people went out to see John baptizing and preaching. See, Jesus knew by the way they had refused to accept his ministry—even though he had performed miracles—that these were people looking for a spectacle, not a Savior.

Nothing Jesus (or John before him—Moses and the Prophets for that matter) was offering was getting enough into the heads, hearts and bones of these people that they might receive the hope, health and healing that they needed for their weary souls.

But, then we know that church can be the same experience for some people. There are some who might attend church their entire life—and assuming the church is relatively healthy—these people never experience some amendment of life… It’s really too bad, and it might not always be hard-heartedness that makes it happen.

Then again, what about those who are changed? What about those people who did go out to the banks of the Jordan to see and hear John, only to have their lives altered forever—St. Paul even met some of John’s disciples in the Acts of the Apostles (well after Jesus had Ascended, and the Day of Pentecost had come and gone). What about them? What spurred them on to go out to hear someone who may just as well have come off as a madman?

As to those in the Gospels whose lives were changed by meeting Jesus, we know there were a number of them beyond even his closest disciples. But even those people—the disciples included—stepped away from what they knew and what was familiar to them to see, and meet Jesus. What roused them (?), sometimes at great risk, to make their way to this radical teacher from Nazareth? For some, it was desperation, sure—but for others it was a choice. So, what about them?

And, what can we say about these Three Wise Men? Were their lives changed by having set out to find the newborn King of Israel? I don’t know. But, if their experience with King Herod is just a sampling of what they were willing to face to follow the star…well, I think we can at least say that it was important to them.

Maybe the Buddhist saying is right, “First the intention, then comes Enlightenment…”

In other words, maybe our lives of faith aren’t always about knowing and calculating what waits for us ahead. Perhaps there are times in life when it really is best just to set out, and know that God is calling us—and the way ahead becomes clear only little-by-little.

 It’s a bit like Abraham packing up and leaving for Cana; or Moses leading the People of Israel to the Promised Land. True, there were some difficulties along the way, but most of those came up when they tried to meddle too much with God’s process. But, in the end, they came to the places where they needed to be—and God led them the whole way.

As we begin this Epiphany Season, and even this New Year, I think this story of the Wise Men is appropriate. And, likewise, this question: “What could make someone leave what they know, where they’re comfortable?” is also appropriate; because I think as a church we’re being asked this question. I also think as individuals who are trying to live more fully into an integrated faith are asking it of ourselves—“what could make me leave what I know, what keeps me comfortable?”

I think part of the answer comes when we realize that what we consider “comfortable” is really just the illusion of security. But, once we realize that it’s only an illusion, and is more about being able to anticipate everything that happens to us in life—well, we know that being able to anticipate everything is no way to live a life…

 But this isn’t all, because while we may not always be able to articulate what it is that motivates us to leave the places where we’re comfortable; we still trust that in leaving, we may find something wonderful.

This is especially true if the story of the Wise Men is any kind of allegory, because we know that what we find by setting out is Jesus…which really is wonderful.

So where will our star lead us as a church, as individuals? Well…simply put, to Jesus. But, that’s to say, we can’t account for what we’ll find along the way. It could be dangerous, uncomfortable, and we may even lose our luggage. But, if we can trust that what awaits us is worth the journey, then we can’t afford to wait idly for fear of what we imagine the road ahead might hold for us.   

Last Sunday of Epiphany 2014

Last Sunday of Epiphany 2014

Our Gospel reading today is a story that we regularly have at the end of Epiphany. Not only is the Transfiguration of Jesus one more really cool example of the power and presence of Christ being revealed (as per the meaning of the Epiphany season), but it also marks a shift in the Gospel narratives from Jesus’ teaching ministry to his focus on his journey to Jerusalem.

So, with that in mind, it makes sense that the designers of the Lectionary, in their infinite wisdom and creativity, should schedule this story as the Church prepares for its own shift to the season of Lent—and our own remembrance of the cross, and eventually the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection.

Now, as to the story of the Transfiguration; Jesus (who has just told everyone that they need to take up their crosses and forsake their lives to follow him), takes James, John and Peter up onto a mountain. We’re told that while they’re there, Jesus suddenly begins to glow. It says that his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white, and just as suddenly, Moses and Elijah appear standing near Jesus having a chat…

Peter, who was likely as confused as James and John says to Jesus, “Y’know, it’s really amazing that we’re here and all—shouldn’t we built tents for you and Moses and Elijah?”

We might wonder why he thinks this is a good idea to build tents—suffice it to say that it’s just the way they’ve always done it… And they really had always done it that way; we just have to remember the Ark of the Covenant, and all of the other really important things that they built tabernacles for…

Anyway, before Jesus can respond to Peter’s brilliant, if not orthodox idea—a cloud comes and overshadows them. The voice of God once again affirms Jesus as the Son of God; and when everything calms down, they see Jesus standing by himself, and he says simply: Get up and don’t be afraid.

Well, that’s easy for him to say. Because, I don’t know about you, but if I saw everything that just happened to Jesus happening to one of my teachers—well, I think a bit more than Ativan might be in order. I mean, even though they knew Jesus was the Son of God—that had all been cleared up at his baptism, and was regularly affirmed by his miracles—but then to also see Moses and Elijah, two men who lived thousands of years before, and were the personification of the Law and the Prophets standing with a glowing, shiny Jesus…well, that would be a lot to take in.

But, let’s be honest, ever since Jesus told everyone that they needed to go home unless they were ready to give up their lives to follow him—well, Peter and the boys were all at 6’s and 7’s. They were in too deep to turn back, but where Jesus seemed to be leading them didn’t seem all that safe, either.

However, if they were perhaps to judge everything based on what happened to them before the resurrection, maybe they would have left. However, after the resurrection of Jesus, everything started to make more sense—and whether it was the Transfiguration, or any of the other amazing moments that they experienced with Jesus—they couldn’t remain in those places and moments, because they were only pieces of the greater story. They needed to move forward so that they could experience the power and meaning of the resurrection.

Now, before we begin to feel that this story is too strange to have any practical application to our lives, consider Peter’s response to the situation. Obviously, there is some fear and trepidation at the cloud, the voice of God and seeing Moses and Elijah—but his response to seeing this amazing thing is that he wants to stay there and sort of enshrine the moment. However, as we well know, Jesus has a bigger mission in mind than to simply hang around with Moses and Elijah until the end of time—he’s trying to redeem all of Creation. And while we might find Peter’s apparent inability to get-with the bigger program a little tiresome; his response is understandable.

After all, how often do we find ourselves tempted to remain in the places that make us feel the most affirmed and good about ourselves? Maybe it’s not even that impressive—maybe it’s a matter of remaining just in the places where we feel ‘satisfied’ and safe… But whatever the situation, what is at stake if we choose remain in those places is the risk of stagnation. If, for example, we as people choose to stay at certain places in our life development, simply because we are comfortable—we know that we won’t grow into our fullest potential. In the same way, if an institution or church remains in a certain place, with a certain mindset simply because it’s satisfying, what will eventually happen is that the system will no longer be able to sustain itself, because it is no longer growing or developing.  

So, effectively what this reading calls us to remember is that we can never be satisfied to stay in one place or one moment—no matter how amazing it might be. Because where God may be leading us is far greater than each of the small satisfying moments along the way. And while growth and moving forward might be difficult, and even frightening for some—we still have to do it—because it’s really the only way to remain faithful to our call to be disciples of Jesus. This is not to diminish any anxiety that we might feel, however—after all, Peter and the gang was getting ready to follow Jesus to his execution. Instead, what we find for ourselves, at any precipice, or place of life change is this simple phrase from Jesus: “Get up, and do not be afraid.”    

7 Epiphany 2014

7 Epiphany 2014

As many of you know, we are fast approaching the end of the Epiphany season—the season where we recall the places and ways in which God in Jesus Christ was made manifest. And while many of the readings throughout the season  have talked about miraculous acts—these last couple of weeks, we see that things are changing. What Jesus is making known is no longer a show of outward power, but has instead begun to talk more about the heart of things.

In last week’s reading we remember Jesus talking about moving beyond the word of the Law, and paying more attention to the heart and spirit with which it calls us to live as God has intended.

So, we basically have Jesus going through some of the more infamous rules and cultural practices of the time (however, we know some of these to be timeless), and he is teaching the people either what is really meant by certain laws, or what is really preferable practice. And, as we have seen over the past couple weeks, Jesus is calling all of us not only to a fuller understanding of what God calls us to with regard to one another—but he is reminding us that it is what happens in our hearts that makes the difference. If we can learn to live out of this kind of thinking, then; Jesus explains that we can be the salt and light of the world.

Now, at first blush, taking this perspective about the law and commands of God might seem like kind of a cop-out. We might get the idea that we can justify certain actions if only we attach some hopeful good intention—this way when we break a rule we can always say that we had the best of intentions in mind.

However, this is the furthest thing from the truth. First, living from the perspective that we follow the heart of God’s laws means that our hearts must be changed. We read in the Old Testament reading that God calls the people to be holy because God is holy. And apart from that sounding like an impossibility, we have to remember that holiness, at it’s very basic, is whole-ness. So, if nothing else, we are called to be integrated people—we’re called to be people who not only try to follow the laws of God, but also understand them in the fuller context of justice, humility and mercy.

Secondly, trying to live out the heart of the law requires some real commitment to loving God and loving others as ourselves. Jesus says that the whole of the Law and the Prophets (the two things that make up the body of Scripture) hang on these two laws. So, assuming that we are always able to start from this understanding; things like making sure the poor are cared for becomes easier, and the more rigid rules become more tempered.

Finally, what Jesus is proposing here is far from easy. By calling the people to look deeper at their own cultural assumptions, and even their understanding of the law—he challenges them to see if they’re really right after all. As Jesus teaches, he says things like “You have heard it said…” or “there was a time when…” And he uses this language to introduce the many justifications that their culture had allotted to them that allowed them to not only live as the chosen people of God—but to make absolutely sure that no one else ever could be.

So what makes Jesus’ teachings particularly difficult is that rather than reiterating the shoulds and should-nots of the law, and continuing to allow for the justification of certain behaviors and practices that were at times violent, and dehumanizing –instead, he challenges them to think. But not only think; Jesus is challenging them to think with a mind that begins with loving God and loving others first.

The point is that it would probably be much easier if Jesus were a little less cagey about which rules to follow—or, even an outline to help us follow the laws step-by-step. But, then, that’s what the Pharisees and Scribes were all about (some attitudes never change), and Jesus said we were gonna have to do better than them if we really wanted to be the light and salt in the world.

  

In a couple more weeks, we begin the season of Lent. In the 40 days of Lent, we’re called to self-examination and reflection—the kind of reflection that Jesus is referring to in the readings these past few weeks. And while this is a wonderful time for self-reflection, and living intentionally by giving something up for Lent, or taking on a discipline—either way, what will we hope to learn? What will we hope to have change in us?

It’s my hope that we take this series of Gospel readings as a kind of preparation, and a reminder that we are called to a high calling—higher than being meticulous about rules or piety—but we are called to live our lives reflecting the heart of the law. Lent is a great time to get in touch with that fact. And if we can learn to internalize this lesson, we can live so that the law of God not only serves our benefit, but that of the whole world.