Homily for Sunday, April 25, 2010
Lessons:
Psalm 23
Acts 9:36-43
Revelations 7:9-17
John 10: 22-30
Last Monday, a graduate student on a bicycle was killed when a large Charlottesville public works truck turned right onto 4th Street. The bicyclist must have been in the driver’s blind spot. Maybe he didn’t see the truck’s turn signal. Or there wasn’t one. Maybe he tried to beat the truck, thinking he could cross the street before the truck could turn. We will never know.
These are a few of the things we have found out since the young man died. His name was Matt King, and he was a student in the math department. His professor said of him, “He was a bright student with a very positive personality.” In fact, Matt was the kind of outstanding math student who might have had offers at other prestigious universities, but he chose the University of Virginia. Why? Because a pastor he had become close to as an undergraduate had moved to Charlottesville. Matt came to UVA so he could help with his former pastor’s ministry.
Last Monday morning, he was serving breakfast at a downtown homeless shelter called The Haven. Maybe he was in a hurry to get to class when he left there. Maybe he was listening to music on his iPod and couldn't hear the truck. We will never know.
We have learned that Matt King was from South Carolina and attended Clemson University as an undergraduate. He and his younger brother were very close; in fact, the day Matt died was his younger brother's 20th birthday. For the rest of his life, this young man's birthday, which should be a happy day, will always be associated with the death of his beloved brother.
The tragedy of Matt King's death has been on the minds of many of us at UVA this week. The story begs the question "Why?" Why did a young man so devoted to serving the Lord by serving others have to lose his life? How could the Lord let such a thing happen? When I realized this Sunday is Good Shepherd Sunday and includes the 23rd Psalm, I hoped to find words of comfort in today's lessons. Comfort is there, of course.
In the Gospel lesson from John, Jesus is confronted by the Jewish authorities, who want him to state outright if he is the Messiah. We can guess what their motive might have been, and their question is no doubt a trap. Jesus answers simply: "The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand. The Father and I are one."
We cannot be snatched from God's hand. Our baptism promises us that we are God's own forever; that is the only promise we are given in scripture, but it is the only one we need. There can be no guarantee about not dying to this mortal life; our earthly bodies will die and we have no way of knowing the hour or the day. But Jesus says we who believe in him are his sheep, and he will gather us into eternal life with Him and the Father. Our celebration of the Resurrection in this season of Easter reminds us that Christ has died and risen to give us a life in the spirit that cannot perish.
The free will all humans enjoy allows us to choose to follow the shepherd. But human free will also permits a host of other things, everything from inattention to traffic laws to environmental degradation. We humans complicate our lives and the workings of the world in so many ways. Although the Lord does not contravene the exercise of free will, and we often suffer as a result, miracles can happen. In today's story from Acts, we see Peter raise from the dead a disciple named Dorcas. Whatever we do in the Lord's name has great power, even though we often cannot comprehend it.
The Book of Revelation can be inscrutable, and I usually feel some trepidation when I turn to its pages, but the passage for today is my favorite from the whole book, for a personal reason. I have struggled with my own mother's death. Why did someone who was so obviously a good and devoted Christian have to die at a relatively young age after suffering through a terrible illness? When the speaker in Revelation 7 is asked the question about the spirits clothed in white robes and standing near the throne of the Lamb, he answers, "These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." I can picture my mother in that company, blessed and comforted after her long ordeal, full of joy. How wonderful to know there is heavenly compensation for the suffering we humans endure in this life! So much of life is unfair, but there is justice in God's mercy.
The most beloved psalm of all is Psalm 23, and I think that's because it gets straight to the point in stating all of the things the Lord does for us. Our service leaflet has the modern version of it, but I think most of us know best the King James version, found at #506 in the responsive reading section of the Broadman Hymnal. Let's read it together now:
Psalm 23
1The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
In verse 4, the dangers and difficulties we encounter are acknowledged. Life can be like a dark valley, and death is ever present. But we are reminded that we have no need to fear evil of any kind. We will be guided and protected in this life, and embraced in the bosom of the Lord in the next one.
This grace is true for each of us, just as it is true for young Matthew King. The website for the college ministry he was associated with has posted this quotation from Matt. In explaining his beliefs, Matt said: "Restoration and redemption surround me."
Blessed assurance! Amen
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Journey With the Prodigal
Homily for Palm Sunday March 28, 2010
In the story of Christ's passion, and in our procession with palms in hand, we walk with Christ as he enters Jerusalem for the last time. We worship a Lord who is fully human, in his birth, in his youth as the son of a simple carpenter, and in the difficulties and trials of his life, which led him finally to the Cross. He is a human man, entering the city on the back of a borrowed donkey colt, but the people who have heard of him recognize his divinity. Spreading branches and even garments on the road before him, they praise him as they would a king. The disciples shout, "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord." Our Lord is fully human and fully divine.
As I've reflected on Christ during the days of Lent, my thoughts kept turning to the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It came to me that the three figures in the parable, the forgiving father and his two sons, might be seen to represent the three figures in the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I know this may sound like a stretch, but think of it this way. Jesus often obviously included himself as a character in the parables he told. Certainly he is the good shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep behind in order to search for the missing one. In the parable of the wayward tenants, he is clearly the landlord's son, sent by his father after the servants have failed to reason with the ruthless tenants, who kill him. It may even be possible to see the Lord as the battered victim left to die by the roadside in the parable of the Good Samaritan. In all of these stories, we can see Jesus presenting his own story to his followers. Why not in the story of the Prodigal Son? I find the idea deeply moving that Jesus would prefigure the circumstances of his death and resurrection in this story.
In case you have forgotten the details, let me read it for you again:
"There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them.
13"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
17"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.'
20So he got up and went to his father.
"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21"The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.[a]'
22"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. 24For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.
25"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'
28"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'
31" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "
If the story of the Prodigal Son is Jesus's own story, then the ever-merciful and loving Father is God the Father--the usual interpretation. But who are the two sons? The elder son, the son "who is always with" the Father is surely the Holy Spirit. I will return to why the Spirit would challenge the father's decision in showing mercy to the prodigal brother. Now I want to explain how I see Jesus represented in the wayward son.
Sent out into the world on his own, with the Father's blessing, the prodigal brother wastes his time and fortune with sinners and prostitutes. If you recall, Jesus is reviled by the Pharisees for consorting with such people, and yet such sinners are his best friends and disciples. The prodigal brother loses everything and is reduced to the complete humiliation of envying the food of the pigs he tends. Starving and alone, abandoned by his fair-weather friends, the Prodigal brother turns once again toward home, not sure of the reception he will receive there. From a distance, the father sees him coming and rushes to embrace him, to feed him, to welcome him. To compare...Christ died the shameful and lonely death on the cross, betrayed by his apostles and believing in his pain that his father might have abandoned him. But God the Father raises him up on the third day and welcomes him to the place of honor beside him. In the parable, the Father explains to the elder brother, "We had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."
Seen this way, as told by Jesus himself, the parable tells of his choice to live a life like one of ours, a fully human, fully tragic life among the weakest of people. In this life, he learned compassion for human folly through the shame and pain he suffered. In dying the execution of the worst kind of sinners, he made belief in the Father's compassion and mercy a real and comprehensible thing. In rising from the dead, he was restored to the Father's abundance, and he gave all sinners hope for mercy and resurrection. In returning home, he became One with the Father and the Spirit.
So why would the Spirit, the elder brother, challenge this course of events? The Spirit, also known in the Old Testament as Lady Wisdom, may represent the mother in this story. I have always thought the absence of the mother to be a strange omission. In fact, I've sometimes wondered if the Father, who is prodigal in his forgiveness of the wayward son, does not respond in a way more expected from a mother. If the elder brother stands in for the Spirit in this story, as well as the missing mother, then the lesson is one of tough love. The question this brother/Spirit truly asks of the Father is this: "Are you really sure you want to forgive and welcome home this profligate son?" The Father's answer is yes--there is enough love for all.
Before he leaves the apostles for good, Jesus tells them the Spirit will come to them and be with them always. Jesus's becoming human, living and dying a human death, made it possible for the Spirit to find a pathway to each human heart.
In the story of Christ's passion, and in our procession with palms in hand, we walk with Christ as he enters Jerusalem for the last time. We worship a Lord who is fully human, in his birth, in his youth as the son of a simple carpenter, and in the difficulties and trials of his life, which led him finally to the Cross. He is a human man, entering the city on the back of a borrowed donkey colt, but the people who have heard of him recognize his divinity. Spreading branches and even garments on the road before him, they praise him as they would a king. The disciples shout, "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord." Our Lord is fully human and fully divine.
As I've reflected on Christ during the days of Lent, my thoughts kept turning to the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It came to me that the three figures in the parable, the forgiving father and his two sons, might be seen to represent the three figures in the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I know this may sound like a stretch, but think of it this way. Jesus often obviously included himself as a character in the parables he told. Certainly he is the good shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep behind in order to search for the missing one. In the parable of the wayward tenants, he is clearly the landlord's son, sent by his father after the servants have failed to reason with the ruthless tenants, who kill him. It may even be possible to see the Lord as the battered victim left to die by the roadside in the parable of the Good Samaritan. In all of these stories, we can see Jesus presenting his own story to his followers. Why not in the story of the Prodigal Son? I find the idea deeply moving that Jesus would prefigure the circumstances of his death and resurrection in this story.
In case you have forgotten the details, let me read it for you again:
"There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them.
13"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
17"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.'
20So he got up and went to his father.
"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21"The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.[a]'
22"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. 24For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.
25"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'
28"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'
31" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "
If the story of the Prodigal Son is Jesus's own story, then the ever-merciful and loving Father is God the Father--the usual interpretation. But who are the two sons? The elder son, the son "who is always with" the Father is surely the Holy Spirit. I will return to why the Spirit would challenge the father's decision in showing mercy to the prodigal brother. Now I want to explain how I see Jesus represented in the wayward son.
Sent out into the world on his own, with the Father's blessing, the prodigal brother wastes his time and fortune with sinners and prostitutes. If you recall, Jesus is reviled by the Pharisees for consorting with such people, and yet such sinners are his best friends and disciples. The prodigal brother loses everything and is reduced to the complete humiliation of envying the food of the pigs he tends. Starving and alone, abandoned by his fair-weather friends, the Prodigal brother turns once again toward home, not sure of the reception he will receive there. From a distance, the father sees him coming and rushes to embrace him, to feed him, to welcome him. To compare...Christ died the shameful and lonely death on the cross, betrayed by his apostles and believing in his pain that his father might have abandoned him. But God the Father raises him up on the third day and welcomes him to the place of honor beside him. In the parable, the Father explains to the elder brother, "We had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."
Seen this way, as told by Jesus himself, the parable tells of his choice to live a life like one of ours, a fully human, fully tragic life among the weakest of people. In this life, he learned compassion for human folly through the shame and pain he suffered. In dying the execution of the worst kind of sinners, he made belief in the Father's compassion and mercy a real and comprehensible thing. In rising from the dead, he was restored to the Father's abundance, and he gave all sinners hope for mercy and resurrection. In returning home, he became One with the Father and the Spirit.
So why would the Spirit, the elder brother, challenge this course of events? The Spirit, also known in the Old Testament as Lady Wisdom, may represent the mother in this story. I have always thought the absence of the mother to be a strange omission. In fact, I've sometimes wondered if the Father, who is prodigal in his forgiveness of the wayward son, does not respond in a way more expected from a mother. If the elder brother stands in for the Spirit in this story, as well as the missing mother, then the lesson is one of tough love. The question this brother/Spirit truly asks of the Father is this: "Are you really sure you want to forgive and welcome home this profligate son?" The Father's answer is yes--there is enough love for all.
Before he leaves the apostles for good, Jesus tells them the Spirit will come to them and be with them always. Jesus's becoming human, living and dying a human death, made it possible for the Spirit to find a pathway to each human heart.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Lenten Reflections
Sermon for Lent 2 February 28, 2010
Two Sundays ago, February 14th, Bishop Shannon made his first official visit to Buck Mountain Church and celebrated with us there the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. That Sunday is also known as Transfiguration Sunday, appropriately, as it makes the transition into Lent, and we are reminded of the mountaintop event when the apostles saw Jesus shining with the radiance of God. Bishop Shannon counseled us to remember that we share in the transfiguration. As poet and priest Gerard Manley Hopkins beautifully expressed it, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God/it will flame out like shining from shook foil..." Through Christ, who lives within us, we are endowed with the ability to shine forth with God's glory and God's blessing.
The collect we read on Transfiguration Sunday includes the following words: "Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory." I'd like to point out the way this statement is worded: it says, may we "be strengthened to bear our cross." It doesn't say "if we have a cross, help us to bear it." No, the collect assumes what the Lord knows and what we adults have had ample opportunities to learn: all of us have crosses to bear.
Now, I admit that in a secret corner of my heart, and I expect this is true for most of us, I harbor a life-long wish to live to be at least 100, to have good health my whole life, and to have a pain-free, problem-free life. In other words, I would prefer not to have a cross to bear, thank you very much. Of course I know this is a complete fantasy. There is scarcely a day that goes by when we don't have some difficulty to face, whether it is a small annoyance, like feeling misunderstood by a coworker, or a major crisis, like dealing with illness or the illness of someone we love. Crosses are plentiful.
During a baptism, the priest or bishop anoints the child's forehead with oil, making the sign of the cross and saying, "You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own forever." I am grateful we renew our baptismal vows from time to time. It is always good to be reminded that we have been sealed and marked as "Christ's own forever." The sign of the cross symbolizes our union with Christ.
There are three occasions when a priest makes the sign of the cross on someone's forehead. One is at baptism. Another is during a healing service, when the person is anointed with oil and the priest prays for his or her physical and spiritual healing. The third occurs in a solemn ritual to mark the beginning of the penitential season of Lent, the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday, when the priest says these words: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Why is a cross applied to our bodies in such a personal way on these three sacramental occasions?
The cross traced lovingly on our forehead is the place where divinity and humanity meet. Because we are human, each of us has a cross to bear. The cross reminds us of this, but it also reminds us that Christ became human, lived and died as one of us, so that He could understand and share our suffering. We are not alone in our suffering or in our joy. As Paul writes in the letter to the Philipians, "He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory..." The spark of His divinity we carry inside us is a transfiguring spirit, capable of breathing life into the very dust. Some effort is required of us, however; we play an important part in our own transformation from sinner to saved, from cross-bearer to one who is redeemed.
The forty days of Lent are set aside as a time to repent. One definition of repent is "to think again." How often do we willingly revisit the choices we have made or the words we've said? Such self-examination requires us to be honest about our behavior and our attitudes. When we seek forgiveness, we need to acknowledge the ways we have missed the mark, especially since the Lord knows them before we do. Another meaning of the word repent is "turn again." By being honest and humble about our own failings, we make a conscious decision to turn more fully to God.
The gospel lesson for last Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent, was the story of Jesus's forty days in the wilderness. Remember, before he entered the wilderness, Jesus had just been baptized, had just heard the voice of God proclaiming him as His beloved Son. No wonder he needed some time alone, to examine his own heart and determine what he was being called to do. During his long stay in the desert, we are told by Luke, "He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished." It is at this point, at a time of great physical stress and mental anguish, when Jesus undergoes a very human experience: he is tempted by Satan. Luke tells the story of this encounter and Satan's three temptations in striking words:
The first one: "The devil said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.'" And the second...
"Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, 'To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.'" Finally...
"Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, 'If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
'He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,'
and
'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"
When I was a child, I heard this story and imagined a red-horned devil, like the cartoonish one that sits on a person's shoulder and competes for her soul with the angel on her other shoulder. Now, I think it is more terrifying to recognize in Jesus’s experience a tempter like the one I often encounter. Jesus, in the wilderness to come to terms with the staggering challenge of being called God's son, is not only wrestling with his identity, but is weak and starving as well. At this very vulnerable moment, his thoughts have taken him to a dangerous place: the place where he feels the need to test his power and test the father who gave such power to him. That's not very surprising, is it?
The first temptation, the first wayward thought, has to do with his most pressing need: hunger. Someone who is starving is capable of doing very drastic things in order to get food, and may even be subject to hallucinations. We can almost see that interior demon whispering, “Shouldn’t the Son of God be able to turn a stone into something to eat?” Jesus shows remarkable strength in brushing that thought aside.
While the first temptation had to do with a basic physical need, the next one appeals to pride. “Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world.” Can you imagine that vision, as the Lord must have seen it? We learn much about his humility when he resists the offer of unimaginable power.
The third temptation sounds like a product of fear, a foreseeing into the dark end he faces. He must have wondered, will my father really be there to rescue me when I need him, or is this all my imagination? Yes, the psalm says the angels will swarm to protect him, but can he trust that to happen? Can he trust the absent Father to come through for him? Those are thoughts we have certainly had in our most fearful moments. At this point in his life, Christ has not begun his ministry and is beginning to come to terms with his identity and the difficulties he will surely face. It isn't so surprising his fear may cause him to question God, to have a sliver of doubt.
No, it's not surprising that a starving young man at the beginning of a new and challenging ministry would suffer the temptations of doubt and fear. What is remarkable is how decisively he rejects them. As we face our own inner demons during this Lenten season (and during any season of the year), it is very good to be reminded that Christ has faced demons of his own. He understands that kind of human suffering, too. The forty days of the Lenten penitential season are offered as a kind of wilderness experience for us, and we can be comforted by the knowledge that Christ knows how to deal with temptations and intervenes for us as we confront our own demons.
The point of fasting, or whatever penitential practice we undertake during Lent, is to teach us to endure hardship as it brings us closer to our Lord. Paul says as much in his letter to the Corinthians, "as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities." Now, it is unlikely any of us will have to endure the kinds of afflictions, hardships and calamities that Paul describes, which include beatings and imprisonment. The cross we wear reminds us that Christ endured the worst kind of hardship on our behalves, so we don't have to. Through our Lenten practice, we acknowledge the reality of that gift with gratitude.
The prophet Joel has the Lord say it in this way: "Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful." In our Lenten reflection, we rend our hearts with repentance, with self-examination and self-honesty, and with God's mercy, we survive the process.
Close your eyes and imagine a cross being traced on your forehead. Remember, it is Christ's finger touching you, Christ reassuring you that he is ever with you, especially in times of pain. Yes, we are dust and to dust we will return, but even the dust is holy.
Our psalm for today, Psalm 27, offers some of the most comforting words anyone could hear during a time of distress. I would like to have us read that together now. It is found on page 617 of the Book of Common Prayer.
Psalm 27 Page 617, BCP
Dominus illuminatio
1
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom then shall I fear? *
the LORD is the strength of my life;
of whom then shall I be afraid?
2
When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, *
it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who
stumbled and fell.
3
Though an army should encamp against me, *
yet my heart shall not be afraid;
4
And though war should rise up against me, *
yet will I put my trust in him.
5
One thing have I asked of the LORD;
one thing I seek; *
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days
of my life;
6
To behold the fair beauty of the LORD *
and to seek him in his temple.
7
For in the day of trouble he shall keep me safe
in his shelter; *
he shall hide me in the secrecy of his dwelling
and set me high upon a rock.
8
Even now he lifts up my head *
above my enemies round about me.
9
Therefore I will offer in his dwelling an oblation
with sounds of great gladness; *
I will sing and make music to the LORD.
10
Hearken to my voice, O LORD, when I call; *
have mercy on me and answer me.
11
You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face." *
Your face, LORD, will I seek.
12
Hide not your face from me, *
nor turn away your servant in displeasure.
13
You have been my helper;
cast me not away; *
do not forsake me, O God of my salvation.
14
Though my father and my mother forsake me, *
the LORD will sustain me.
15
Show me your way, O LORD; *
lead me on a level path, because of my enemies.
16
Deliver me not into the hand of my adversaries, *
for false witnesses have risen up against me,
and also those who speak malice.
17
What if I had not believed
that I should see the goodness of the LORD *
in the land of the living!
18
O tarry and await the LORD'S pleasure;
be strong, and he shall comfort your heart; *
wait patiently for the LORD.
Glory to the father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.
Two Sundays ago, February 14th, Bishop Shannon made his first official visit to Buck Mountain Church and celebrated with us there the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. That Sunday is also known as Transfiguration Sunday, appropriately, as it makes the transition into Lent, and we are reminded of the mountaintop event when the apostles saw Jesus shining with the radiance of God. Bishop Shannon counseled us to remember that we share in the transfiguration. As poet and priest Gerard Manley Hopkins beautifully expressed it, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God/it will flame out like shining from shook foil..." Through Christ, who lives within us, we are endowed with the ability to shine forth with God's glory and God's blessing.
The collect we read on Transfiguration Sunday includes the following words: "Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory." I'd like to point out the way this statement is worded: it says, may we "be strengthened to bear our cross." It doesn't say "if we have a cross, help us to bear it." No, the collect assumes what the Lord knows and what we adults have had ample opportunities to learn: all of us have crosses to bear.
Now, I admit that in a secret corner of my heart, and I expect this is true for most of us, I harbor a life-long wish to live to be at least 100, to have good health my whole life, and to have a pain-free, problem-free life. In other words, I would prefer not to have a cross to bear, thank you very much. Of course I know this is a complete fantasy. There is scarcely a day that goes by when we don't have some difficulty to face, whether it is a small annoyance, like feeling misunderstood by a coworker, or a major crisis, like dealing with illness or the illness of someone we love. Crosses are plentiful.
During a baptism, the priest or bishop anoints the child's forehead with oil, making the sign of the cross and saying, "You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own forever." I am grateful we renew our baptismal vows from time to time. It is always good to be reminded that we have been sealed and marked as "Christ's own forever." The sign of the cross symbolizes our union with Christ.
There are three occasions when a priest makes the sign of the cross on someone's forehead. One is at baptism. Another is during a healing service, when the person is anointed with oil and the priest prays for his or her physical and spiritual healing. The third occurs in a solemn ritual to mark the beginning of the penitential season of Lent, the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday, when the priest says these words: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Why is a cross applied to our bodies in such a personal way on these three sacramental occasions?
The cross traced lovingly on our forehead is the place where divinity and humanity meet. Because we are human, each of us has a cross to bear. The cross reminds us of this, but it also reminds us that Christ became human, lived and died as one of us, so that He could understand and share our suffering. We are not alone in our suffering or in our joy. As Paul writes in the letter to the Philipians, "He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory..." The spark of His divinity we carry inside us is a transfiguring spirit, capable of breathing life into the very dust. Some effort is required of us, however; we play an important part in our own transformation from sinner to saved, from cross-bearer to one who is redeemed.
The forty days of Lent are set aside as a time to repent. One definition of repent is "to think again." How often do we willingly revisit the choices we have made or the words we've said? Such self-examination requires us to be honest about our behavior and our attitudes. When we seek forgiveness, we need to acknowledge the ways we have missed the mark, especially since the Lord knows them before we do. Another meaning of the word repent is "turn again." By being honest and humble about our own failings, we make a conscious decision to turn more fully to God.
The gospel lesson for last Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent, was the story of Jesus's forty days in the wilderness. Remember, before he entered the wilderness, Jesus had just been baptized, had just heard the voice of God proclaiming him as His beloved Son. No wonder he needed some time alone, to examine his own heart and determine what he was being called to do. During his long stay in the desert, we are told by Luke, "He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished." It is at this point, at a time of great physical stress and mental anguish, when Jesus undergoes a very human experience: he is tempted by Satan. Luke tells the story of this encounter and Satan's three temptations in striking words:
The first one: "The devil said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.'" And the second...
"Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, 'To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.'" Finally...
"Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, 'If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
'He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,'
and
'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"
When I was a child, I heard this story and imagined a red-horned devil, like the cartoonish one that sits on a person's shoulder and competes for her soul with the angel on her other shoulder. Now, I think it is more terrifying to recognize in Jesus’s experience a tempter like the one I often encounter. Jesus, in the wilderness to come to terms with the staggering challenge of being called God's son, is not only wrestling with his identity, but is weak and starving as well. At this very vulnerable moment, his thoughts have taken him to a dangerous place: the place where he feels the need to test his power and test the father who gave such power to him. That's not very surprising, is it?
The first temptation, the first wayward thought, has to do with his most pressing need: hunger. Someone who is starving is capable of doing very drastic things in order to get food, and may even be subject to hallucinations. We can almost see that interior demon whispering, “Shouldn’t the Son of God be able to turn a stone into something to eat?” Jesus shows remarkable strength in brushing that thought aside.
While the first temptation had to do with a basic physical need, the next one appeals to pride. “Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world.” Can you imagine that vision, as the Lord must have seen it? We learn much about his humility when he resists the offer of unimaginable power.
The third temptation sounds like a product of fear, a foreseeing into the dark end he faces. He must have wondered, will my father really be there to rescue me when I need him, or is this all my imagination? Yes, the psalm says the angels will swarm to protect him, but can he trust that to happen? Can he trust the absent Father to come through for him? Those are thoughts we have certainly had in our most fearful moments. At this point in his life, Christ has not begun his ministry and is beginning to come to terms with his identity and the difficulties he will surely face. It isn't so surprising his fear may cause him to question God, to have a sliver of doubt.
No, it's not surprising that a starving young man at the beginning of a new and challenging ministry would suffer the temptations of doubt and fear. What is remarkable is how decisively he rejects them. As we face our own inner demons during this Lenten season (and during any season of the year), it is very good to be reminded that Christ has faced demons of his own. He understands that kind of human suffering, too. The forty days of the Lenten penitential season are offered as a kind of wilderness experience for us, and we can be comforted by the knowledge that Christ knows how to deal with temptations and intervenes for us as we confront our own demons.
The point of fasting, or whatever penitential practice we undertake during Lent, is to teach us to endure hardship as it brings us closer to our Lord. Paul says as much in his letter to the Corinthians, "as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities." Now, it is unlikely any of us will have to endure the kinds of afflictions, hardships and calamities that Paul describes, which include beatings and imprisonment. The cross we wear reminds us that Christ endured the worst kind of hardship on our behalves, so we don't have to. Through our Lenten practice, we acknowledge the reality of that gift with gratitude.
The prophet Joel has the Lord say it in this way: "Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful." In our Lenten reflection, we rend our hearts with repentance, with self-examination and self-honesty, and with God's mercy, we survive the process.
Close your eyes and imagine a cross being traced on your forehead. Remember, it is Christ's finger touching you, Christ reassuring you that he is ever with you, especially in times of pain. Yes, we are dust and to dust we will return, but even the dust is holy.
Our psalm for today, Psalm 27, offers some of the most comforting words anyone could hear during a time of distress. I would like to have us read that together now. It is found on page 617 of the Book of Common Prayer.
Psalm 27 Page 617, BCP
Dominus illuminatio
1
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom then shall I fear? *
the LORD is the strength of my life;
of whom then shall I be afraid?
2
When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, *
it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who
stumbled and fell.
3
Though an army should encamp against me, *
yet my heart shall not be afraid;
4
And though war should rise up against me, *
yet will I put my trust in him.
5
One thing have I asked of the LORD;
one thing I seek; *
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days
of my life;
6
To behold the fair beauty of the LORD *
and to seek him in his temple.
7
For in the day of trouble he shall keep me safe
in his shelter; *
he shall hide me in the secrecy of his dwelling
and set me high upon a rock.
8
Even now he lifts up my head *
above my enemies round about me.
9
Therefore I will offer in his dwelling an oblation
with sounds of great gladness; *
I will sing and make music to the LORD.
10
Hearken to my voice, O LORD, when I call; *
have mercy on me and answer me.
11
You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face." *
Your face, LORD, will I seek.
12
Hide not your face from me, *
nor turn away your servant in displeasure.
13
You have been my helper;
cast me not away; *
do not forsake me, O God of my salvation.
14
Though my father and my mother forsake me, *
the LORD will sustain me.
15
Show me your way, O LORD; *
lead me on a level path, because of my enemies.
16
Deliver me not into the hand of my adversaries, *
for false witnesses have risen up against me,
and also those who speak malice.
17
What if I had not believed
that I should see the goodness of the LORD *
in the land of the living!
18
O tarry and await the LORD'S pleasure;
be strong, and he shall comfort your heart; *
wait patiently for the LORD.
Glory to the father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
A Meditation on Kindness
Homily for Sunday, January 24, 2010 Buck Mountain Church and Graves Chapel
Lessons:
Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a
Luke 4:14-21
A living one-month old baby was pulled from the ruins in Haiti on Tuesday, a full week after the earthquake. A miracle, wasn’t it? And cause for rejoicing in the face of so much horror and suffering. All around America, people like us watch our televisions and listen to the radio for news about the disaster. We pray for the injured and grieving, for the rescuers and medical teams, for the future of Haiti. We are filled with good-will towards the faraway victims, and we make generous donations. We understand that our kindness is both righteous and necessary.
In fact, kindness may be the most necessary of all virtues. As priest and theologian Henri Nouwen put it, “Jesus’s whole life was a witness to his Father’s love, and Jesus calls his followers to carry on that witness in his Name. We, as followers of Jesus, are sent into this world to be visible signs of God’s unconditional love.”
Being visible signs of God’s unconditional love is pretty easy when it comes to sending aid to earthquake victims. It can be a far more difficult proposition when it comes to showing kindness on a day-to-day basis to the people with whom we routinely interact—our families, our co-workers, our friends. We lose patience. We expect too much of each other. We take our relationships for granted. Love and kindness aren't always easy.
There is another problem with kindness in the real world we inhabit. As an attribute, kindness won’t get you very far in a world that values competition, aggression, assertiveness, self-fulfillment. Getting ahead and getting what we want from life is a philosophy that looks down its nose at kindness. Listen:
She is so sweet... He is such a kind man...He would give you the shirt off his back...She would do anything for you...Have you ever noticed how such compliments are stated? It seems to me that an assessment such as "She is so sweet" carries with it the implication that she must also be not quite right. [There is a Southern female tradition of saying something like, "She is so sweet" and adding "Bless her heart" to imply the speaker meant the exact opposite.] People who are perceived to be truly kind and gentle are also, apparently, often considered to be lightweights, as if they are not tuned in to reality. Unconditional love and kindness won't get you very far in our cynical modern world, or so it seems.
This sardonic attitude is not new, however; the eye-rolling dismissal of gentleness has been around for centuries. Herod displays it when he tells the wise men, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." Herod sees as foolishness the loving devotion that brought the three kings such a distance, bearing gifts for an unknown infant, and he assumes he can trick them into revealing the identity of the babe they seek. But God is in their wisdom as well as their dreams, and the three kings foil Herod's plan to destroy the baby Jesus by taking a different route as they head for home.
The feast of the Epiphany, celebrated on January 6th, commemorates the wise men's journey and begins the Season of Light, which will last until Ash Wednesday. Epiphany means "manifestation" or "revelation" and stands for the idea that the birth of Jesus is a revealing of the Word of God in human form. The star shed a very bright light, indeed, and it is the light of love.Our lessons today, for the third Sunday of Epiphany, concern Jesus's understanding of what he is called to do and our instructions for how we are to follow Him. It seems to me that love and kindness are at the heart of both.
As the story is told in Luke 4, Jesus is at the very beginning of his ministry when he returns home to Nazareth. In the synagogue for the Sabbath, he is given the scroll of the prophet Isaiah to read, and he opens to these words: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." After he reads and rolls up the scroll, Jesus simply states: "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." He declares himself to be the anointed one and says that he has been called by God to help the poor, the imprisoned, the sick and disabled, the oppressed. He has been called to make manifest the unconditional love of God. He has been called to a mission of kindness.
Paul's letter to the Corinthians reminds them that a considerate respect for one another will be the tie that binds their church community together. After I read this epistle, I contemplated preparing index cards labeled boldly with the names of the various body parts. I thought I might hand them out to all of you as you entered the church and have you represent an organ or a limb, an eye or an ear. Then I could say, "All internal organs, stand up now!" It didn't take me long to realize that wouldn't go over very well. It would miss Paul's point, anyway. Paul wants us to understand that we make up the body of the church as we bring our unique gifts to the service of the community of Christ. No part of the body is unnecessary or inferior; all are equally important, even if some are more modest and less outwardly visible. If we do, as Paul suggests, think of each other as the various parts of one body, the body of the "one holy catholic and apostolic church," we might appreciate each other more and treat each other with more love and kindness. Eugenia, our left foot, might get a bunion and be a pain sometimes, but we wouldn't want to cut her off, would we? As Paul says, "If one member suffers, all suffer together with it." The point of suffering together is to ease each other's burdens and to give each other hope in the Lord.
I don't know if you are a Masterpiece Theater fan, as I am, but if you are, I hope you won't mind hearing a little bit about Masterpiece Classic's most recent series, Cranford, based on novels by Elizabeth Gaskell, and set in a small town in Victorian England. The main character, Matty Jenkyns, played by Judi Dench, and her sister Deborah are the spinster daughters of the town's former rector, and they are at the center of a circle of women, spinsters and widows, who take it upon themselves to set the moral and social standards for Cranford. Matty looks to Deborah, who is older and sharper, to be the ultimate arbiter in all matters, and though Deborah can appear to be rather strict and harsh, she also can be wise and generous. When Miss Pole, the worst gossip of the group, arrives with some out-of-breath news to impart, Deborah is careful to question her and get a truer perspective on the tidbit before she gives it any credence. After Deborah suffers a stroke and dies unexpectedly, Matty must learn to value her own wisdom. Matty's wisdom is very much the wisdom of kindness.
When Matty was a young woman in love, Deborah had disapproved of her young man, and Matty had ended the relationship. After Matty's second chance to marry the man she loves does not come to fruition, she does not become embittered or resentful. In fact, she believes even more strongly that love should not be thwarted, and she tells her maid Martha that she will permit her to see young men, something forbidden to the maids of her friends. Ultimately, Matty's kindness to Martha and her boyfriend Jim results in their coming to her rescue when she falls unexpectedly on hard financial times. They marry and move in with her, providing her the income of their rent and the company of their infant daughter, whom Mattie treats like her own granddaughter. Imagine! Treating the maid and her daughter as you would members of your own family!
You might think such behavior in defiance of social codes of conduct would completely ostracize Matty from her very proper friends, but that isn't what happens. Matty is such a loving, generous, and kind person, her friends cannot betray her, although they may disapprove of her choices.
When the new-fangled railroad threatens to run right through Cranford, the ladies are up in arms in opposition. They fear the railroad will destroy life in Cranford as they know it. At first Matty is in agreement with her friends and sees the railroad as a dangerous imposition. But Matty is an observer, someone who keeps a close and loving eye on her friends and neighbors, especially the young ones, and she is convinced that it is wrong for her peers to block the kind of progress the railroad will bring. Although interfering with such a matter was very much not in the nature of the very modest Matty, she once again demonstrates her boldness to defend what she believes to be the right thing. Her gentle kindness does not make her weak or retiring.
Over the course of several episodes, Matty suffers many setbacks, some of which might make me want to climb in bed under a blanket and never come out. Near the end, after one more disaster, Matty is reminded of the Greek myth of Pandora, and she believes herself to be, like Pandora, the unwitting instrument of pain for all those around her. (She isn't, of course.) Finally she recalls the end of the tale, how Pandora managed to keep hope in the box from which she released all the world's troubles. So Miss Matty focuses on hope and how to share it with her community. Using up the last of her savings, Miss Matty gives a very special Christmas gift to the town of Cranford. And you know what? Although the gift is bestowed by an act of unconditional love--Miss Matty herself says "Love is the final word"-- it redounds to her in unexpected and wonderful ways.
That's the way of love, isn't it? As J. M. Barrie said, "Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves."
Let us pray for all those who selflessly give to others, who love and care for earthquake victims or for the lonely shut-in down the street. They live in the kingdom of kindness, and we know them by their love. That is what Christ wished for all of his disciples. That is what he wishes for us.
Lessons:
Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a
Luke 4:14-21
A living one-month old baby was pulled from the ruins in Haiti on Tuesday, a full week after the earthquake. A miracle, wasn’t it? And cause for rejoicing in the face of so much horror and suffering. All around America, people like us watch our televisions and listen to the radio for news about the disaster. We pray for the injured and grieving, for the rescuers and medical teams, for the future of Haiti. We are filled with good-will towards the faraway victims, and we make generous donations. We understand that our kindness is both righteous and necessary.
In fact, kindness may be the most necessary of all virtues. As priest and theologian Henri Nouwen put it, “Jesus’s whole life was a witness to his Father’s love, and Jesus calls his followers to carry on that witness in his Name. We, as followers of Jesus, are sent into this world to be visible signs of God’s unconditional love.”
Being visible signs of God’s unconditional love is pretty easy when it comes to sending aid to earthquake victims. It can be a far more difficult proposition when it comes to showing kindness on a day-to-day basis to the people with whom we routinely interact—our families, our co-workers, our friends. We lose patience. We expect too much of each other. We take our relationships for granted. Love and kindness aren't always easy.
There is another problem with kindness in the real world we inhabit. As an attribute, kindness won’t get you very far in a world that values competition, aggression, assertiveness, self-fulfillment. Getting ahead and getting what we want from life is a philosophy that looks down its nose at kindness. Listen:
She is so sweet... He is such a kind man...He would give you the shirt off his back...She would do anything for you...Have you ever noticed how such compliments are stated? It seems to me that an assessment such as "She is so sweet" carries with it the implication that she must also be not quite right. [There is a Southern female tradition of saying something like, "She is so sweet" and adding "Bless her heart" to imply the speaker meant the exact opposite.] People who are perceived to be truly kind and gentle are also, apparently, often considered to be lightweights, as if they are not tuned in to reality. Unconditional love and kindness won't get you very far in our cynical modern world, or so it seems.
This sardonic attitude is not new, however; the eye-rolling dismissal of gentleness has been around for centuries. Herod displays it when he tells the wise men, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." Herod sees as foolishness the loving devotion that brought the three kings such a distance, bearing gifts for an unknown infant, and he assumes he can trick them into revealing the identity of the babe they seek. But God is in their wisdom as well as their dreams, and the three kings foil Herod's plan to destroy the baby Jesus by taking a different route as they head for home.
The feast of the Epiphany, celebrated on January 6th, commemorates the wise men's journey and begins the Season of Light, which will last until Ash Wednesday. Epiphany means "manifestation" or "revelation" and stands for the idea that the birth of Jesus is a revealing of the Word of God in human form. The star shed a very bright light, indeed, and it is the light of love.Our lessons today, for the third Sunday of Epiphany, concern Jesus's understanding of what he is called to do and our instructions for how we are to follow Him. It seems to me that love and kindness are at the heart of both.
As the story is told in Luke 4, Jesus is at the very beginning of his ministry when he returns home to Nazareth. In the synagogue for the Sabbath, he is given the scroll of the prophet Isaiah to read, and he opens to these words: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." After he reads and rolls up the scroll, Jesus simply states: "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." He declares himself to be the anointed one and says that he has been called by God to help the poor, the imprisoned, the sick and disabled, the oppressed. He has been called to make manifest the unconditional love of God. He has been called to a mission of kindness.
Paul's letter to the Corinthians reminds them that a considerate respect for one another will be the tie that binds their church community together. After I read this epistle, I contemplated preparing index cards labeled boldly with the names of the various body parts. I thought I might hand them out to all of you as you entered the church and have you represent an organ or a limb, an eye or an ear. Then I could say, "All internal organs, stand up now!" It didn't take me long to realize that wouldn't go over very well. It would miss Paul's point, anyway. Paul wants us to understand that we make up the body of the church as we bring our unique gifts to the service of the community of Christ. No part of the body is unnecessary or inferior; all are equally important, even if some are more modest and less outwardly visible. If we do, as Paul suggests, think of each other as the various parts of one body, the body of the "one holy catholic and apostolic church," we might appreciate each other more and treat each other with more love and kindness. Eugenia, our left foot, might get a bunion and be a pain sometimes, but we wouldn't want to cut her off, would we? As Paul says, "If one member suffers, all suffer together with it." The point of suffering together is to ease each other's burdens and to give each other hope in the Lord.
I don't know if you are a Masterpiece Theater fan, as I am, but if you are, I hope you won't mind hearing a little bit about Masterpiece Classic's most recent series, Cranford, based on novels by Elizabeth Gaskell, and set in a small town in Victorian England. The main character, Matty Jenkyns, played by Judi Dench, and her sister Deborah are the spinster daughters of the town's former rector, and they are at the center of a circle of women, spinsters and widows, who take it upon themselves to set the moral and social standards for Cranford. Matty looks to Deborah, who is older and sharper, to be the ultimate arbiter in all matters, and though Deborah can appear to be rather strict and harsh, she also can be wise and generous. When Miss Pole, the worst gossip of the group, arrives with some out-of-breath news to impart, Deborah is careful to question her and get a truer perspective on the tidbit before she gives it any credence. After Deborah suffers a stroke and dies unexpectedly, Matty must learn to value her own wisdom. Matty's wisdom is very much the wisdom of kindness.
When Matty was a young woman in love, Deborah had disapproved of her young man, and Matty had ended the relationship. After Matty's second chance to marry the man she loves does not come to fruition, she does not become embittered or resentful. In fact, she believes even more strongly that love should not be thwarted, and she tells her maid Martha that she will permit her to see young men, something forbidden to the maids of her friends. Ultimately, Matty's kindness to Martha and her boyfriend Jim results in their coming to her rescue when she falls unexpectedly on hard financial times. They marry and move in with her, providing her the income of their rent and the company of their infant daughter, whom Mattie treats like her own granddaughter. Imagine! Treating the maid and her daughter as you would members of your own family!
You might think such behavior in defiance of social codes of conduct would completely ostracize Matty from her very proper friends, but that isn't what happens. Matty is such a loving, generous, and kind person, her friends cannot betray her, although they may disapprove of her choices.
When the new-fangled railroad threatens to run right through Cranford, the ladies are up in arms in opposition. They fear the railroad will destroy life in Cranford as they know it. At first Matty is in agreement with her friends and sees the railroad as a dangerous imposition. But Matty is an observer, someone who keeps a close and loving eye on her friends and neighbors, especially the young ones, and she is convinced that it is wrong for her peers to block the kind of progress the railroad will bring. Although interfering with such a matter was very much not in the nature of the very modest Matty, she once again demonstrates her boldness to defend what she believes to be the right thing. Her gentle kindness does not make her weak or retiring.
Over the course of several episodes, Matty suffers many setbacks, some of which might make me want to climb in bed under a blanket and never come out. Near the end, after one more disaster, Matty is reminded of the Greek myth of Pandora, and she believes herself to be, like Pandora, the unwitting instrument of pain for all those around her. (She isn't, of course.) Finally she recalls the end of the tale, how Pandora managed to keep hope in the box from which she released all the world's troubles. So Miss Matty focuses on hope and how to share it with her community. Using up the last of her savings, Miss Matty gives a very special Christmas gift to the town of Cranford. And you know what? Although the gift is bestowed by an act of unconditional love--Miss Matty herself says "Love is the final word"-- it redounds to her in unexpected and wonderful ways.
That's the way of love, isn't it? As J. M. Barrie said, "Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves."
Let us pray for all those who selflessly give to others, who love and care for earthquake victims or for the lonely shut-in down the street. They live in the kingdom of kindness, and we know them by their love. That is what Christ wished for all of his disciples. That is what he wishes for us.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
What the Lord Asks of Us
Thanksgiving Homily
November 22, 2009
Welcome to our Harvest feast. As we celebrate Thanksgiving, it is good to remember those who founded this church so many years ago. Even though we don't know everything about them, we know they cared enough about the Lord and about each other to plant a church here and join in Christian fellowship. What they planted has lasted. We are called, as the current stewards of this church community, to do all we can to make it last another 100 years.
About a month ago, I was participating in a vestry retreat at my church, Buck Mountain Church in Earlysville, when Chuck Mullally, rector of Emmanuel Greenwood, led the vestry and committee chairs in a discussion about our goals for the church. He prefaced his remarks to us in a very memorable way. He simply quoted the words of Jesus, from John 15:16: "You did not choose me, but I chose you." Never having thought about my church membership in quite that way, I was a bit stunned. It really did make me think about how and why I first began to attend church there. That led me to think back to my childhood years of attending services right here in Graves Chapel. In that context, it is easy for me to see how my family members and all of the Graves Mill residents who came here in those days were chosen and called to be here by God. Something about this lovely old church and its sweet simplicity is still very appealing to people, isn't it? I urge you to consider how the Lord has called you to be part of your church community. It may give you goose bumps--it did me!
Just as those 19th Century founders of Graves Chapel were called to communion with one another, we are called with all the saints to an ongoing communion with God. As we avow in the Apostle's Creed: "I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints..." Catholic is written with a lower case C, meaning the church universal. The word saints also begins with a lower case S, because we everyday saints are innumerable. We experience the work of the Holy Spirit entering our hearts and binding us together, so we say we believe in the church. As priest and theologian Henri Nouwen wrote, "The Apostle's Creed does not say that the Church is an organization that helps us to believe in God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. No, we are called to believe in the church with the same faith we believe in God."
Like we everyday saints who make up the Church, the Church is not perfect. So why does Father Nouwen remind us that we are asked to put our faith in the Church? He says it is because "God has given us the Church as the place where God becomes God-with-us." Think about it. We have all been chosen by God to be in this place at this time. We have been called into community here at Graves Chapel, and God, who gave us this church and brought us to it, is in the midst of us. As it says in the Book of Revelations, "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes." We can look for God in each other's faces as we share our dinner today. After all, we are saints.
In his book The Holy Longing, Ronald Rolheiser says, "To be a saint is to be fueled by gratitude, nothing more and nothing less." Shouldn't there be a lot of saints in the world if the basic fuel of sainthood is gratitude? Doesn't everyone have some reason to be grateful? Maybe being told we should be grateful and having gratitude are very different things. Gratitude simply rises up in our hearts whenever we think of our blessings. There is no should involved in the spontaneous joy that comes from gratitude, and I would never dare to stand here and say you should be grateful to God for your many blessings, especially since I am in as much need of reminding as anyone else. What we decide to give in gratitude to God is deeper than a should. We choose to give back to God a portion of what God has already given us in thanksgiving for the merciful abundance of our blessings. This free-will sacrifice is not intended to make us suffer; in fact, if it is truly an expression of gratitude, we will feel joy in the giving. As Psalm 50 says, "Offer to God a sacrifice of Thanksgiving...Those who bring Thanksgiving as their sacrifice honor me." In calling us to community in this church, God asks us to demonstrate our gratitude for our many blessings in some tangible ways. In Holy Longing, Rolheiser goes on to say this gratitude for our blessings will give us a "mellowness of heart and spirit" that is one of the essential ingredients of Christian discipleship.
Actually, Rolheiser cites four "non-negotiable essentials of Christian spirituality," very clearly based on the words and teachings of Jesus Christ. It might be useful to look at all four of them now. The first is "private prayer and private morality." Just as we are called to community in church, we are also called to develop a personal relationship with God through time spent alone in prayer. Jesus tells us in Matthew 6, "Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you." In that way, we are guided to an experience of God within our own hearts that allows us to see God in others.
The part about "private morality" is more difficult. Jesus knows how much we want to impose our own morals on others. That's why he said things like "Judge not less you be judged" and "Why do you see the speck in the eye of your brother or sister but do not see the log in your own eye?" Clearly he wants us to examine our own faults and work on self-improvement instead of judging and blaming others. Why is that so essential? We are called to community in Christ's love, and it's hard to be in community with someone of whom we disapprove. In fact, if you've ever been on the receiving end of such disapproval, you know how hard that can be. What others do may not be what we would do, we may not even like it, but we must leave it up to God to judge. Our task is to "live in love, as Christ loved us."
The second "non-negotiable essential of Christian spirituality" is social justice. In his words recorded in Matthew 25, Jesus makes it very plain that we are to concern ourselves with the needs of others as he speaks of the King separating the sheep from the goats: "Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' " Our very gathering here today, the proceeds of which will be given to MESA, is a demonstration of our concern for social justice issues. We understand, as Henri Nouwen put it, that "the poor are given to the Church so that the Church as the body of Christ can be and remain a place of mutual concern, love, and peace."
Along with private prayer, social justice, and mellowness of heart and spirit, Rolheiser's fourth non-negotiable essential of Christian discipleship is "concrete involvement within a historical worshiping community." Now, when Rolheiser uses the word historical, he means something like lasting or traditional , but in terms of historical worshiping communities, there aren't many older and more prayer-soaked than this one. In saying that a worship community is one of the essentials of Christian spirituality, Rolheiser is saying something the founders of Graves Chapel well understood. We can't do this by ourselves. We need each other as much as we need private prayer. The experience of "God with us" can be as powerful as the experience of "God with me." Christ tells us to love our neighbor, suggesting the need for a neighbor to love. We experience that Christian love for neighbor firsthand in our church home, and then we reach out in love to neighbors in the community at large. Without each other, there is no church.
We depend on and need each other in our endeavor to be true disciples of Christ, and the formula is not too difficult. Private prayer and personal morality. Social justice. Mellowness of heart and spirit. Worship in a Christian community. As Christ told us, his yoke is easy and his burden is light. Old testament prophet Micah summed up our task as well when he said, "And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your Lord."
Today I am grateful for this gathering of friends and neighbors. I am grateful to be in this chapel, a place near to my heart all my life. I am grateful for this abundant feast we will soon enjoy, and grateful for your generosity in sharing it. I am grateful we live in a country where such blessings are possible even in hard economic times. I am grateful for the Lord's goodness made manifest in all of you.
Thanks be to God!
November 22, 2009
Welcome to our Harvest feast. As we celebrate Thanksgiving, it is good to remember those who founded this church so many years ago. Even though we don't know everything about them, we know they cared enough about the Lord and about each other to plant a church here and join in Christian fellowship. What they planted has lasted. We are called, as the current stewards of this church community, to do all we can to make it last another 100 years.
About a month ago, I was participating in a vestry retreat at my church, Buck Mountain Church in Earlysville, when Chuck Mullally, rector of Emmanuel Greenwood, led the vestry and committee chairs in a discussion about our goals for the church. He prefaced his remarks to us in a very memorable way. He simply quoted the words of Jesus, from John 15:16: "You did not choose me, but I chose you." Never having thought about my church membership in quite that way, I was a bit stunned. It really did make me think about how and why I first began to attend church there. That led me to think back to my childhood years of attending services right here in Graves Chapel. In that context, it is easy for me to see how my family members and all of the Graves Mill residents who came here in those days were chosen and called to be here by God. Something about this lovely old church and its sweet simplicity is still very appealing to people, isn't it? I urge you to consider how the Lord has called you to be part of your church community. It may give you goose bumps--it did me!
Just as those 19th Century founders of Graves Chapel were called to communion with one another, we are called with all the saints to an ongoing communion with God. As we avow in the Apostle's Creed: "I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints..." Catholic is written with a lower case C, meaning the church universal. The word saints also begins with a lower case S, because we everyday saints are innumerable. We experience the work of the Holy Spirit entering our hearts and binding us together, so we say we believe in the church. As priest and theologian Henri Nouwen wrote, "The Apostle's Creed does not say that the Church is an organization that helps us to believe in God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. No, we are called to believe in the church with the same faith we believe in God."
Like we everyday saints who make up the Church, the Church is not perfect. So why does Father Nouwen remind us that we are asked to put our faith in the Church? He says it is because "God has given us the Church as the place where God becomes God-with-us." Think about it. We have all been chosen by God to be in this place at this time. We have been called into community here at Graves Chapel, and God, who gave us this church and brought us to it, is in the midst of us. As it says in the Book of Revelations, "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes." We can look for God in each other's faces as we share our dinner today. After all, we are saints.
In his book The Holy Longing, Ronald Rolheiser says, "To be a saint is to be fueled by gratitude, nothing more and nothing less." Shouldn't there be a lot of saints in the world if the basic fuel of sainthood is gratitude? Doesn't everyone have some reason to be grateful? Maybe being told we should be grateful and having gratitude are very different things. Gratitude simply rises up in our hearts whenever we think of our blessings. There is no should involved in the spontaneous joy that comes from gratitude, and I would never dare to stand here and say you should be grateful to God for your many blessings, especially since I am in as much need of reminding as anyone else. What we decide to give in gratitude to God is deeper than a should. We choose to give back to God a portion of what God has already given us in thanksgiving for the merciful abundance of our blessings. This free-will sacrifice is not intended to make us suffer; in fact, if it is truly an expression of gratitude, we will feel joy in the giving. As Psalm 50 says, "Offer to God a sacrifice of Thanksgiving...Those who bring Thanksgiving as their sacrifice honor me." In calling us to community in this church, God asks us to demonstrate our gratitude for our many blessings in some tangible ways. In Holy Longing, Rolheiser goes on to say this gratitude for our blessings will give us a "mellowness of heart and spirit" that is one of the essential ingredients of Christian discipleship.
Actually, Rolheiser cites four "non-negotiable essentials of Christian spirituality," very clearly based on the words and teachings of Jesus Christ. It might be useful to look at all four of them now. The first is "private prayer and private morality." Just as we are called to community in church, we are also called to develop a personal relationship with God through time spent alone in prayer. Jesus tells us in Matthew 6, "Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you." In that way, we are guided to an experience of God within our own hearts that allows us to see God in others.
The part about "private morality" is more difficult. Jesus knows how much we want to impose our own morals on others. That's why he said things like "Judge not less you be judged" and "Why do you see the speck in the eye of your brother or sister but do not see the log in your own eye?" Clearly he wants us to examine our own faults and work on self-improvement instead of judging and blaming others. Why is that so essential? We are called to community in Christ's love, and it's hard to be in community with someone of whom we disapprove. In fact, if you've ever been on the receiving end of such disapproval, you know how hard that can be. What others do may not be what we would do, we may not even like it, but we must leave it up to God to judge. Our task is to "live in love, as Christ loved us."
The second "non-negotiable essential of Christian spirituality" is social justice. In his words recorded in Matthew 25, Jesus makes it very plain that we are to concern ourselves with the needs of others as he speaks of the King separating the sheep from the goats: "Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' " Our very gathering here today, the proceeds of which will be given to MESA, is a demonstration of our concern for social justice issues. We understand, as Henri Nouwen put it, that "the poor are given to the Church so that the Church as the body of Christ can be and remain a place of mutual concern, love, and peace."
Along with private prayer, social justice, and mellowness of heart and spirit, Rolheiser's fourth non-negotiable essential of Christian discipleship is "concrete involvement within a historical worshiping community." Now, when Rolheiser uses the word historical, he means something like lasting or traditional , but in terms of historical worshiping communities, there aren't many older and more prayer-soaked than this one. In saying that a worship community is one of the essentials of Christian spirituality, Rolheiser is saying something the founders of Graves Chapel well understood. We can't do this by ourselves. We need each other as much as we need private prayer. The experience of "God with us" can be as powerful as the experience of "God with me." Christ tells us to love our neighbor, suggesting the need for a neighbor to love. We experience that Christian love for neighbor firsthand in our church home, and then we reach out in love to neighbors in the community at large. Without each other, there is no church.
We depend on and need each other in our endeavor to be true disciples of Christ, and the formula is not too difficult. Private prayer and personal morality. Social justice. Mellowness of heart and spirit. Worship in a Christian community. As Christ told us, his yoke is easy and his burden is light. Old testament prophet Micah summed up our task as well when he said, "And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your Lord."
Today I am grateful for this gathering of friends and neighbors. I am grateful to be in this chapel, a place near to my heart all my life. I am grateful for this abundant feast we will soon enjoy, and grateful for your generosity in sharing it. I am grateful we live in a country where such blessings are possible even in hard economic times. I am grateful for the Lord's goodness made manifest in all of you.
Thanks be to God!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Be Careful What You Ask For
Sermon for Sunday, October 25, 2009
Lessons:
Psalm 34
Job 42: 1-6, 10-17
Mark 10: 46-52
Be careful what you ask for. We've all heard that before. It has taken me a while, but I have finally learned not to pray for patience. A prayer for patience, I've found, grants me situations in which I am compelled to learn how to be patient.
In today's Old Testament lesson, we enter Job's story near the end, when Job's family and fortune are restored to him. Job's case is a very unusual one in that he suffers greatly and loses all that he has because of a wager between God and Satan. When the Book of Job begins, we learn that he is a good, righteous, and faithful man with a large family and many possessions. Satan bets God that he can convince Job to turn his back on his faith. God believes that Job will stay faithful, so he agrees to the bet, only stipulating that Job's life is to be spared. Everything else is on the table.
Given such a free hand, Satan tests Job in truly cruel ways. Job loses all of his children and all of his property. Ultimately, he is covered in boils and sores and spends all of his time sitting on an ashheap. His poor wife, who is, of course, simply a victim of the same circumstances, urges Job to "curse God and die," but Job will not do that. Some of his friends come to comfort him, but their manner is far from consoling. They question Job so they can help him figure out the sin he is guilty of that has apparently caused God to punish him so drastically. Job insists he has done nothing wrong, and we know he is telling the truth. It's just not fair.
Even as he remains faithful, not cursing God as his wife suggests, Job does ask something of God. In fact, he makes a demand: "Let the Almighty answer me"--what have I done to deserve this? And then, as the Book says, "God answers Job out of the whirlwind" : "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?" Running down the list of creation's deep mysteries, God puts Job in his place. The passage has a "How dare you question me" kind of tone, but the point is clear: I am God, and you, Job, are not. Don't even try to understand what my power is capable of doing. Be careful what you ask for. Then, as today's lesson reveals, Job is humbled. He responds to God by saying, "I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted...Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know...I had heard of you by the hearing of the ears, but now my eye sees you: therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes." As an expression of obedient faith and humble repentance, these simple words of Job are exemplary. God rewards him by giving him a new set of children and unimaginable wealth.
The story of Job is a challenge. Who wants to imagine God gambling with Satan, our lives as the stakes? Maybe the only way to understand the significance of this story is to see it as an allegory about the unfairness of life. Life is unfair, and there is nowhere in the Bible where anyone is promised otherwise. Even so, we are promised the mercy and compassion of God, and in the end, Job receives an abundance of those blessings.
Our blind beggar in the lesson from Mark is also a victim of life's unfairness. Like Job, Bartimaeus has heard of the Lord "by the hearing of the ear" and he is ready when Jesus approaches. He shouts out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" When the crowd tries to hush him, Bartimaeus cries out even more desperately, and Jesus stops and says, "Call him here." But when this blind beggar throws off his cloak and appears before the Lord, Jesus says a most peculiar thing, or so it seems. He asks this blind man, "What do you want me to do for you?" Only after Bartimaeus says, "My teacher, let me see again" does Jesus heal him.
I say that Jesus's question is peculiar, but maybe obvious is a better word. It seems pretty clear to us, and it must have looked that way to the people in the crowd, that Bartimaeus would ask Jesus to remove his blindness and restore his vision. Why, then, does Jesus ask him what he wants?
I think it is because the Lord knows human nature, knows our innermost thoughts and feelings. He understands our true motives for doing things when we don't even admit them to ourselves. The story of the healing of Bartimaeus is not the only occasion in the gospels when Jesus asks such a question of someone imploring him for help. This is his gentle way of saying, "Be careful what you ask for."
Knowing the habits of thought and attitude humans are subject to, Jesus wants Bartimaeus to think about all of the ways his life will change when he can see. After many years of living as a blind beggar, it may be that Bartimaeus has come to enjoy the pity of others. He may have developed a sizeable share of self-pity as well, and that would be understandable. Within the confines of the very small world his blindness compels him to inhabit, Bartimaeus has created a comfort zone and a predictable life for himself. Jesus wants to know if he is really ready to give that up, because Bartimaeus's whole world will change " in the twinkling of an eye."
Given the opportunity, the Lord would ask the same question of us. Self-examination must be part of our prayer lives or we will enter prayer with conflicted hearts. As I worked on my last two sermons, I have been thinking about prayer and sharing my thoughts with you. I have said that prayer can be an ongoing conversation with God since God is present with us every moment of every day. As long as we choose to be aware of God, we can touch that gracious presence because God wants to connect with us and wants to bless us. When Christ said, "The kingdom of God is at hand" he meant us to believe him and to believe that he dwells in our hearts. That message is very clear.
The message of blind Bartimaeus and others like him is also clear. In order for us to receive the blessings Christ so willingly wishes to give us, we need to prepare for our lives to be changed. Whatever it is we earnestly seek in prayer, whether it is healing or relief from anxiety over financial matters, the answer we are given is bound to bring something new into our lives. That something new may not be exactly what we have expected, and human beings don't often respond well when we are required to make unexpected adjustments to our lives. In fact, we may not even recognize that our prayers have been answered if we expect a different answer.
Change is bound to happen in our lives--how many times have we been told "Change is inevitable"? Think about how much of every day we spend either accepting change as it comes our way or resisting it. Prayer gives us the opportunity to shape the changes in our lives as it helps us to see clearly the need for change and gives us the ability to accept it.
Maybe it would be helpful to pray for clarity or guidance before we pray for anything else. Maybe it is a good idea to pray to be ready for the answers we are given. When we can't let go of our need to have things our way, praying to be able to surrender is a good idea. That prayer alone could resolve a lot of issues.
Christ said to us, "Seek and you shall find. Knock, and the door will be opened." Prayer is the way we seek. Knocking suggests persistence. As today's psalm says, "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." We just need to recognize and accept the good stuff when it comes our way.
Lessons:
Psalm 34
Job 42: 1-6, 10-17
Mark 10: 46-52
Be careful what you ask for. We've all heard that before. It has taken me a while, but I have finally learned not to pray for patience. A prayer for patience, I've found, grants me situations in which I am compelled to learn how to be patient.
In today's Old Testament lesson, we enter Job's story near the end, when Job's family and fortune are restored to him. Job's case is a very unusual one in that he suffers greatly and loses all that he has because of a wager between God and Satan. When the Book of Job begins, we learn that he is a good, righteous, and faithful man with a large family and many possessions. Satan bets God that he can convince Job to turn his back on his faith. God believes that Job will stay faithful, so he agrees to the bet, only stipulating that Job's life is to be spared. Everything else is on the table.
Given such a free hand, Satan tests Job in truly cruel ways. Job loses all of his children and all of his property. Ultimately, he is covered in boils and sores and spends all of his time sitting on an ashheap. His poor wife, who is, of course, simply a victim of the same circumstances, urges Job to "curse God and die," but Job will not do that. Some of his friends come to comfort him, but their manner is far from consoling. They question Job so they can help him figure out the sin he is guilty of that has apparently caused God to punish him so drastically. Job insists he has done nothing wrong, and we know he is telling the truth. It's just not fair.
Even as he remains faithful, not cursing God as his wife suggests, Job does ask something of God. In fact, he makes a demand: "Let the Almighty answer me"--what have I done to deserve this? And then, as the Book says, "God answers Job out of the whirlwind" : "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?" Running down the list of creation's deep mysteries, God puts Job in his place. The passage has a "How dare you question me" kind of tone, but the point is clear: I am God, and you, Job, are not. Don't even try to understand what my power is capable of doing. Be careful what you ask for. Then, as today's lesson reveals, Job is humbled. He responds to God by saying, "I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted...Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know...I had heard of you by the hearing of the ears, but now my eye sees you: therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes." As an expression of obedient faith and humble repentance, these simple words of Job are exemplary. God rewards him by giving him a new set of children and unimaginable wealth.
The story of Job is a challenge. Who wants to imagine God gambling with Satan, our lives as the stakes? Maybe the only way to understand the significance of this story is to see it as an allegory about the unfairness of life. Life is unfair, and there is nowhere in the Bible where anyone is promised otherwise. Even so, we are promised the mercy and compassion of God, and in the end, Job receives an abundance of those blessings.
Our blind beggar in the lesson from Mark is also a victim of life's unfairness. Like Job, Bartimaeus has heard of the Lord "by the hearing of the ear" and he is ready when Jesus approaches. He shouts out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" When the crowd tries to hush him, Bartimaeus cries out even more desperately, and Jesus stops and says, "Call him here." But when this blind beggar throws off his cloak and appears before the Lord, Jesus says a most peculiar thing, or so it seems. He asks this blind man, "What do you want me to do for you?" Only after Bartimaeus says, "My teacher, let me see again" does Jesus heal him.
I say that Jesus's question is peculiar, but maybe obvious is a better word. It seems pretty clear to us, and it must have looked that way to the people in the crowd, that Bartimaeus would ask Jesus to remove his blindness and restore his vision. Why, then, does Jesus ask him what he wants?
I think it is because the Lord knows human nature, knows our innermost thoughts and feelings. He understands our true motives for doing things when we don't even admit them to ourselves. The story of the healing of Bartimaeus is not the only occasion in the gospels when Jesus asks such a question of someone imploring him for help. This is his gentle way of saying, "Be careful what you ask for."
Knowing the habits of thought and attitude humans are subject to, Jesus wants Bartimaeus to think about all of the ways his life will change when he can see. After many years of living as a blind beggar, it may be that Bartimaeus has come to enjoy the pity of others. He may have developed a sizeable share of self-pity as well, and that would be understandable. Within the confines of the very small world his blindness compels him to inhabit, Bartimaeus has created a comfort zone and a predictable life for himself. Jesus wants to know if he is really ready to give that up, because Bartimaeus's whole world will change " in the twinkling of an eye."
Given the opportunity, the Lord would ask the same question of us. Self-examination must be part of our prayer lives or we will enter prayer with conflicted hearts. As I worked on my last two sermons, I have been thinking about prayer and sharing my thoughts with you. I have said that prayer can be an ongoing conversation with God since God is present with us every moment of every day. As long as we choose to be aware of God, we can touch that gracious presence because God wants to connect with us and wants to bless us. When Christ said, "The kingdom of God is at hand" he meant us to believe him and to believe that he dwells in our hearts. That message is very clear.
The message of blind Bartimaeus and others like him is also clear. In order for us to receive the blessings Christ so willingly wishes to give us, we need to prepare for our lives to be changed. Whatever it is we earnestly seek in prayer, whether it is healing or relief from anxiety over financial matters, the answer we are given is bound to bring something new into our lives. That something new may not be exactly what we have expected, and human beings don't often respond well when we are required to make unexpected adjustments to our lives. In fact, we may not even recognize that our prayers have been answered if we expect a different answer.
Change is bound to happen in our lives--how many times have we been told "Change is inevitable"? Think about how much of every day we spend either accepting change as it comes our way or resisting it. Prayer gives us the opportunity to shape the changes in our lives as it helps us to see clearly the need for change and gives us the ability to accept it.
Maybe it would be helpful to pray for clarity or guidance before we pray for anything else. Maybe it is a good idea to pray to be ready for the answers we are given. When we can't let go of our need to have things our way, praying to be able to surrender is a good idea. That prayer alone could resolve a lot of issues.
Christ said to us, "Seek and you shall find. Knock, and the door will be opened." Prayer is the way we seek. Knocking suggests persistence. As today's psalm says, "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." We just need to recognize and accept the good stuff when it comes our way.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
On Prayer
Sermon for Sunday, September 27, 2009
Lessons:
Psalm 124
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50
People pray all the time, even some people who don't consider themselves very religious. You can hear such prayers in all kinds of places. "Oh, God!" "For Christ's sake!" "Jesus!" Sometimes expletives are added. There is just something in human beings that makes them call out to God when they find themselves in a crisis--or at a ball game.
Today's epistle from James of Jerusalem, also known as the brother of our Lord, addresses the topic of prayer. James says, "The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective." My first thought after reading these words of James was that I wished he had not included the word righteous. Many people already struggle with prayer, feel as if they don't know how to connect to God, or feel as if God isn't always listening, and I would not want them to believe their difficulty with prayer is a judgment on their righteousness. God does not set any barriers or conditions on prayer, because prayer is open to everyone, and all prayer can be powerful and effective.
I would like to share with you some of the things I have discovered about prayer in my own search for a closer connection to God.
Maybe the most essential thing I have learned about prayer is that my desire to pray comes from God. We pray because God invites us into a conversation with him. God knows all of our needs and desires before we even speak the words, yet God wants to hear from us. That very longing we feel for God as we enter into prayer is our guarantee that God is present with us.
Human frustration arises when we don't feel that God answers us, when our prayer seems more like a monologue than a dialogue. Why does this happen? We enter prayer with good intentions, and we wish with all our hearts to be answered by God. When we don't receive the kind of answer we expect we may feel like failures--or worse, that God has failed us. But it isn't that our prayers are inadequate or God is inattentive. I believe the difficulty lies in the way we think of God. If we imagine God to be at a great distance from us, so that our prayer is a reaching out across a vast space, then it is easy to expect God not to pick up our call. He is too busy, or he just can't hear us. But God is not at the farthest reaches of interstellar space. God is Spirit, and that Spirit dwells in our very hearts. God is always present, and our prayers to God simply acknowledge that Presence. To hear God's response, we have to learn to listen with our hearts, not with the ears of our minds.
As Father Martin Smith says in his book, The Word Is Very Near You, "Prayer is communion between all that we are and all that God is." Since we "live and move and have our being" in the constant presence of God, all that we say and do can be seen as prayer, if we choose to see it so. That may be what James had in mind when he used the word righteous--if we are always aware that our words and deeds are performed in the Presence of God, then we will want them to be worthy of God. Our very lives are prayers.
Thankfully, God is merciful! In fact, if we ponder with humility the idea that our lives are an ongoing conversation with God, then we have abundant cause to believe that God is infinitely merciful. If I weigh my own life on a righteousness scale, I have certainly done more things that I wish God had not seen than those I am glad He witnessed. How very blessed I am to be the recipient of so much grace! What a relief to know that God's love for us outweighs all of our sins!
Believing that God is always with us, how do we learn to listen to God with our hearts? St. Francis de Sales advised Christians to spend a half hour every day in deliberate prayer, and he added, "if very busy, pray for an hour." He did not suggest an hour's worth of words pouring from us, however. The prayer of this St. Francis is simply being quiet in the presence of God. Here is how he described it: “If the heart wanders or is distracted, bring it back to the point quite gently and replace it tenderly in its Master's presence. And even if you did nothing during the whole of your hour but bring your heart back and place it again in Our Lord's presence, though it went away every time you brought it back, your hour would be very well employed.” The practice or habit of prayerful connection with God will be its own answer and reward in the peace it brings.
Christ himself suggested something like this in Matthew 6 when he said, "Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him." In giving us what we call "The Lord's Prayer," Jesus suggested just a few things to address in prayer: gratitude for our blessings, mercy for our failures, and protection from danger. Beyond those things, Jesus seems to say, we must leave the rest to God.
So, prayer isn't so much about what we have to say to God, but how we receive what God gives to us. How often do we pray half-heartedly, with the door to our heart only slightly ajar, I wonder? As Christian philosopher Simone Weil said, "God continually showers the fullness of his grace on every being in the universe, but we consent to receive it to a greater or lesser extent. In purely spiritual matters, God grants all desires. Those who have less have asked for less." That bears repeating. "In purely spiritual matters, God grants all desires." We can pray to be more open to receive God's grace, and that prayer will be answered. We can pray to feel God's presence and to understand God's purpose for us. If we open wide the doors to our hearts, such prayers will be answered.
The only way to open wide the door to our heart is to be fully aware of the present moment. If we are not fully present, how can we expect to experience the Presence of God? That is exactly what St. Francis de Sales meant when he said, " If the heart wanders or is distracted, bring it back to the point quite gently and replace it tenderly in its Master's presence." We can leave behind the words and the confusion caused by words if we think of prayer as an openness, an attitude, a way of being and not a way of speaking.
In his wonderful book on contemplative prayer, Everything Belongs, Richard Rohr says, "Prayer is not primarily saying words or thinking thoughts. It is, rather, a stance. It's a way of living in the Presence, living in awareness of the Presence, and even of enjoying the Presence."
Awareness, or present-moment living, brings with it many gifts. When we are distracted or anxious, too caught up in worries or the task at hand, we may miss the blessings God so lavishly sends our way. Preoccupied, we may not see the butterflies in migration or the changing patterns of the leaves. We may fail to hear a child's innocent and charming question. We may lose an opportunity to demonstrate our love for someone in need of love. Surrendering all of our distractions to God opens us to the blessings of the moment. God speaks to us in these blessings.
There are some days, however, when we cannot experience our lives as being blessed. Of course we face dark days, sickness, and grief along the way. Of course there are times when we cry out in desperation or anger to God. Of course there are times when we feel God is very far away and our prayers are useless. My own experience has been that being in the practice of prayer as awareness of God's presence allows me to feel God's mercy and grace even more keenly when my need is greatest. Surrendering my hardships to God offers release and blessed reassurance. At such moments I feel deeply Dame Julian's promise, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
Surrender to God in the present moment and gratitude for our many blessings are two natural components of prayer, and they seem to be the most important ones. Whether we actually fall to our knees in prayer or feel ourselves to be inwardly kneeling, when we turn our lives over to God, we surrender our will to His. Thomas Merton's famous prayer says much about the uncertainty of prayer and the blessing of surrender:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. [The Merton Prayer]
What a blessing it is simply to surrender! The only appropriate response to such a gift is gratitude. As the mystic Meister Eckhart said, "If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough."
Thanks be to God!
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