Brad Sullivan
3rd Sunday of Easter
Sunday, May 8th, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Acts 2:14a, 36-41
Psalm 116:1-3, 10-17
1 Peter 1:17-23
Luke 24:13-35
I love the story of the journey of Cleopas, his companion, and risen / disguised Jesus to Emmaus. One thing I just noticed in the story is that Jesus was going on. They were turning in for the night, and Jesus was heading on. Perhaps he had somewhere he needed to be? I wonder, however, if he might have been testing Cleopas and his companion. I don't mean that in a harsh or cruel way, but they had been his disciples. They had heard him preach and teach about loving their neighbors and offering hospitality to others. I wonder if he was seeing what they would do, if they would remember, and they did. They got it. They were living out the way of life he had given them, embodying his teachings. We'll get back to that in a little bit.
As I said when I began, I love this story. It’s exciting. It’s comforting. It’s confusing. It’s beautiful. These folks had the scriptures opened up to them by some guy they met on the road, offered hospitality to him, they shared a meal, and then, suddenly, there was God, there was Jesus sitting right before them.
How did they not know that it was Jesus beforehand? We don’t exactly know. Scripture says their eyes were kept from recognizing him. Perhaps Jesus’ face changed in a similar way as it did during the transfiguration. Perhaps God put some mental block on them so that the whole time they were thinking, “who is this guy? It’s right on the tip of my tongue. He looks so familiar.” These were Jesus’ disciples, but maybe they were kinda of like proto-Episcopalians and always sat in the back whenever he preached so they just never got that good of a look at him. We don’t know exactly how this story happened, we believe that it did.
On the day Jesus was raised from the dead, he appeared to his disciples, and there was something different about him and he could appear and disappear at will (which is really pretty cool, could get you out of some awkward situations, but it was still Jesus. It was the man whom they had known and loved and followed.
Not too long after Jesus appeared to his disciples, he seemingly left. Jesus ascended into heaven and sent the Holy Spirit to be with us. We believe Jesus will come again to complete the restoration of the world and make creation new. It might seem a logical conclusion then that Jesus is gone in the mean time. We’re waiting for Jesus to return, therefore he must be gone right now. Right?
One of the great things about God is that the flipside of the coin need not always hold. God knows everything. We have free will. The flip side of each of those coins contradicts the other, and that’s where the dog is buried. Jesus left. He ascended into heaven. Jesus is still here with us. That’s where the dog is buried.
So, if Jesus is still with us, and people sometimes encounter him as they are walking along, when have you encountered Jesus? By that, I don’t mean when have you seen the risen Jesus come down from heaven and show you the marks of the nails in some pre-second coming experience? Maybe such experiences can happen; they just aren’t what I’m talking about today.
I’m talking about something a little more spiritual and mystical. When have you seen God’s will or God’s word embodied in another person?
Bishop Doyle was here for Confirmation last Wednesday, and he talked about God’s will and knowing God’s will. That seems a pretty bold statement, “I know God’s will.” Then he reminded us that we’ve heard God’s will expressed time and again in Scripture. Love God. Love people. We heard God’s will expressed in the words of Micah, telling us to be just and merciful, and to walk humbly with God.
We hear of God’s will embodied in Jesus who was just and merciful, who walked humbly with God, loving God and people. During Jesus’ life on earth, God’s will and word were embodied in the particular person of Jesus of Nazareth, and God’s will and word were still present and active in the rest of creation, including other people. John the Baptist comes to mind as one example of someone in whom God’s will and word were present and active. So God was localized in Jesus and present everywhere.
After Jesus’ death and resurrection, Jesus was still the one particular person whom he had been his whole life, the same person whom Cleopas and his companion encountered on the road to Emmaus. At the same time, after his death and resurrection, Jesus kinda went everywhere. Paul tells the Romans and the Corinthians that Jesus is in them. Jesus is in us. While still the particular person, Jesus of Nazareth, resurrected, Jesus is also within each of us. So, Jesus can be everyman or everywoman.
Jesus can be mom. That seems rather appropriate on Mother’s Day. The images of God as mother are well documented in Scripture. They are sparcely documented, but well documented. There’s one, Isaiah 49:15, which I love: “Can a woman forget her nursing-child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.”
The image of God as a nursing mother, and God giving birth to people and creation out of her womb is a beautiful image and one that’s sustained me greatly in some difficult times. So, Jesus can be mommy. Jesus can be daddy. Jesus can be everyone in the world while still being the particular person, God whom Jesus is.
So, with all of that being said, when have you encountered the risen Jesus? When have you encountered someone being just, merciful, loving, walking humbly with God? When has someone been forgiving towards you? When has someone been a light to guide you out of darkness? When have your seen someone embody the teachings of Jesus, his word and way of life? Considering that Cleopas and his companion embodied Jesus' teachings and way of life, I wonder if Jesus might have encountered himself in them.
Jesus shows up quite a lot, doesn’t he? So, for a final thought for the day, think again about your life, but turn the question back on yourself. When have you been the risen Jesus for others? Amen.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Get up, and do not be afraid.
Brad Sullivan
Last Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, March 6th, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Exodus 24:12-18
Psalm 99
2 Peter 1:16-21
Matthew 17:1-9
I’ve been meeting with a Rabbi for the last five months or so; we’ve been learning from each other about our two faiths, and one thing of which I’ve been reminded through our meetings is how vast and incomprehensible God is. God is beyond all our attempts at understanding, beyond our descriptions and conceptions. This is not to say God is unknowable; it is simply to say God is greater than we can conceive. We’ve been given glimpses of God through the Law, through the prophets, through Jesus.
As a vast oversimplification, we could say that a way of life was given whereby we can learn something of God and potentially live out something of the divine life here on earth. Depending on our approach, we could also simply be following a set of rules with little of God’s life entering in. So, as a vast oversimplification, we have the prophets calling us to remember not only the law but the purpose of the law and how by faith to live faithfully to God. Then, again as an oversimplification, we have Jesus as the embodiment of the law and the prophets, living out the life called for by both, and we have Jesus as God, that to which the law and the prophets were directing us.
Is anyone else confused yet? I’m guessing that’s how Peter, James, and John felt up on the mountain, largely very confused. It was probably very nice to see Moses and Elijah up on the mountain with Jesus. They were maybe a little star struck, but I’m guessing they were also quite confused, wondering what in the world was going on.
We have some of this confusion illustrated by Peter wanting to build three dwellings, one for Moses, one for Jesus, and one for Elijah. What Peter was actually wanting to build was three tabernacles, places for the three of them to dwell with God. There are two challenges here. One, God really wants us to build tabernacles in our hearts for him to dwell, and two by building three separate dwellings for Moses, Jesus, and Elijah, however, Peter was separating Jesus from the Law and the prophets when they really belong together. Jesus fulfilled the law and the Prophets. Jesus was God, to whom the law and the prophets direct us, and Jesus followed the law and the prophets in his own life. Doing so was how he, as a human being, maintained the tabernacle in his own heart for God to dwell. I realize there is an inherent contradiction in saying “Jesus is God” and saying “Jesus made a place in his heart for God to dwell.” I’m ok with that contradiction.
As Rabbi Annie would say, “that’s where the dog is buried.” It’s a Yiddish expression meaning “there’s the rub,” or “there’s the contradiction inherent in this situation.” Our whole faith is full of contradictions. Jesus is a human being. Jesus is God.
Jesus is both revelation and example. If Jesus was only a revelation of God, then we would be lacking a human example of living a life of faithfulness to God. If Jesus were only an example for us to follow, then we would be missing something of the revelation of God. So, we say “Jesus is God” and “Jesus made a place in his heart for God to dwell.” Jesus is both revelation of God and example of human life.
By listening to Jesus, we too can make places in our hearts for God to dwell. That was God’s response to Peter wanting to make tabernacles for Moses, Jesus, and Elijah. God interrupts Peter, tells him who Jesus is, God’s beloved son, and tells them to listen to him. Perhaps the parenthetical, unspoken portion of God’s message was, “No, Peter, you’re missing the point. You needn’t build tabernacles for the three of them so that they may dwell with me. Rather, build a tabernacle in your heart so that you may dwell with me.” Instead, God simply said, “this is my beloved Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him.”
So we have in the transfiguration, a revelation of who Jesus is as God with God’s glory shining through him, and we have a revelation of who Jesus is as a human being, so familiar with the law and the prophets that he could have a conversation with Moses and Elijah just as easily as we could talk with one another right now.
So, we have this dual revelation on the last Sunday of the Epiphany, three days before we begin our Lenten journey. I find this rather helpful because Lent is a time when, more than any other time of the year, we are intentional about building tabernacles in our hearts for God to dwell. “Nearer my God to thee, nearer to thee, oh how I long to be nearer to thee.” The words of the old gospel hymn ring true at all times and especially during Lent, the purpose not being self abasement or really even self denial. The purpose of Lent is to draw nearer to God. The sacrifices we make or fasts we observe during Lent are simply ways of helping us clear out spaces in our hearts for God to dwell, that God may tabernacle in our hearts.
Clearing those places out is only one step, however, the other step being to listen to Jesus. Let’s start with the first words he said to Peter, James, and John after the transfiguration. “Get up and do not be afraid.” Those would be nice words possibly to paint on our ceilings above our beds so that we might see those words every morning when we wake. Get up and do not be afraid. We’re going to look at some other words of Jesus as well and see how they might help us build tabernacles in our hearts.
Jesus told a story, a parable of the prodigal son. The story was about a young man who basically told his father, “I wish you were dead, but since you aren’t quite dead yet, I want my inheritance now so give me my money.” The father does so, the son wastes all of the money and returns to his father to apologize and ask to be a servant in his house, but before the son even got there, the father ran out to him and threw his arms around him. The father didn’t chastise the son or seek vengeance for the hurt the son caused. Rather, he welcomed his son back with joy and love. God always loves us, even when we turn away from him, even when we hurt ourselves and others. God is always ready to welcome us back, to run towards us and wrap his arms around us. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Jesus taught us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, rather than seeking vengeance. We would hopefully seek justice in our world, but rather than seek vengeance, he teaches us to love our enemies and pray for those who wrong us. God is merciful and just, and sometimes we’re going to need to depend on God’s justice rather than seeking vengeance on our own. Such is the love God wants us to experience and have in the world that we might increase and add more love to the world rather than add more hurt and hate to the world. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Jesus tells us that he loves us and will be with us always even to the end of the ages, and although he seemingly left us by ascending into heaven, Jesus gives us an assurance that he is and will be with us always by sending us the Holy Spirit, the comforter, the Advocate to be with us, to strengthen us, to guide us, to dwell within our hearts. When everyone else seems against us, the Holy Spirit can be for us, always drawing us nearer to God. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Just before Jesus’ transfiguration and shortly after his transfiguration, Jesus told his disciples that he was going to suffer and die, and we see in that a reminder that as Jesus suffered and died, so must we all suffer and die. We hope not to have an overabundance of suffering when we die, but all of us, one day will eventually suffer and die. These lives will end, and yet we look not only to Jesus’ crucifixion and death but to his resurrection, showing us that life does not end with our deaths, but that the resurrection of the dead is real. Life continues on with God even after our physical lives here on earth have ended. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
We are taught to live with faith in Jesus, with faith in Jesus in this dual revelation of Jesus in the transfiguration, to have faith in Jesus as God, as the one through whom God’s glory shown in the transfiguration, and we’re also taught to have the faithfulness of Jesus, living out lives of law and prophet as Jesus did, living out the way he lived, faith in him as God and the faithfulness of him as a human being. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
We also remember that God is beyond our comprehension, beyond anything we can possibly imagine, greater and vaster than we can begin to conceive, and yet this same God who is beyond our imagining is the same God who desires and promises to dwell in our hearts, and we’re invited to make places within our hearts for this vast incomprehensible God to dwell. “Get up, and do not be afraid.” Amen.
Last Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, March 6th, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Exodus 24:12-18
Psalm 99
2 Peter 1:16-21
Matthew 17:1-9
I’ve been meeting with a Rabbi for the last five months or so; we’ve been learning from each other about our two faiths, and one thing of which I’ve been reminded through our meetings is how vast and incomprehensible God is. God is beyond all our attempts at understanding, beyond our descriptions and conceptions. This is not to say God is unknowable; it is simply to say God is greater than we can conceive. We’ve been given glimpses of God through the Law, through the prophets, through Jesus.
As a vast oversimplification, we could say that a way of life was given whereby we can learn something of God and potentially live out something of the divine life here on earth. Depending on our approach, we could also simply be following a set of rules with little of God’s life entering in. So, as a vast oversimplification, we have the prophets calling us to remember not only the law but the purpose of the law and how by faith to live faithfully to God. Then, again as an oversimplification, we have Jesus as the embodiment of the law and the prophets, living out the life called for by both, and we have Jesus as God, that to which the law and the prophets were directing us.
Is anyone else confused yet? I’m guessing that’s how Peter, James, and John felt up on the mountain, largely very confused. It was probably very nice to see Moses and Elijah up on the mountain with Jesus. They were maybe a little star struck, but I’m guessing they were also quite confused, wondering what in the world was going on.
We have some of this confusion illustrated by Peter wanting to build three dwellings, one for Moses, one for Jesus, and one for Elijah. What Peter was actually wanting to build was three tabernacles, places for the three of them to dwell with God. There are two challenges here. One, God really wants us to build tabernacles in our hearts for him to dwell, and two by building three separate dwellings for Moses, Jesus, and Elijah, however, Peter was separating Jesus from the Law and the prophets when they really belong together. Jesus fulfilled the law and the Prophets. Jesus was God, to whom the law and the prophets direct us, and Jesus followed the law and the prophets in his own life. Doing so was how he, as a human being, maintained the tabernacle in his own heart for God to dwell. I realize there is an inherent contradiction in saying “Jesus is God” and saying “Jesus made a place in his heart for God to dwell.” I’m ok with that contradiction.
As Rabbi Annie would say, “that’s where the dog is buried.” It’s a Yiddish expression meaning “there’s the rub,” or “there’s the contradiction inherent in this situation.” Our whole faith is full of contradictions. Jesus is a human being. Jesus is God.
Jesus is both revelation and example. If Jesus was only a revelation of God, then we would be lacking a human example of living a life of faithfulness to God. If Jesus were only an example for us to follow, then we would be missing something of the revelation of God. So, we say “Jesus is God” and “Jesus made a place in his heart for God to dwell.” Jesus is both revelation of God and example of human life.
By listening to Jesus, we too can make places in our hearts for God to dwell. That was God’s response to Peter wanting to make tabernacles for Moses, Jesus, and Elijah. God interrupts Peter, tells him who Jesus is, God’s beloved son, and tells them to listen to him. Perhaps the parenthetical, unspoken portion of God’s message was, “No, Peter, you’re missing the point. You needn’t build tabernacles for the three of them so that they may dwell with me. Rather, build a tabernacle in your heart so that you may dwell with me.” Instead, God simply said, “this is my beloved Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him.”
So we have in the transfiguration, a revelation of who Jesus is as God with God’s glory shining through him, and we have a revelation of who Jesus is as a human being, so familiar with the law and the prophets that he could have a conversation with Moses and Elijah just as easily as we could talk with one another right now.
So, we have this dual revelation on the last Sunday of the Epiphany, three days before we begin our Lenten journey. I find this rather helpful because Lent is a time when, more than any other time of the year, we are intentional about building tabernacles in our hearts for God to dwell. “Nearer my God to thee, nearer to thee, oh how I long to be nearer to thee.” The words of the old gospel hymn ring true at all times and especially during Lent, the purpose not being self abasement or really even self denial. The purpose of Lent is to draw nearer to God. The sacrifices we make or fasts we observe during Lent are simply ways of helping us clear out spaces in our hearts for God to dwell, that God may tabernacle in our hearts.
Clearing those places out is only one step, however, the other step being to listen to Jesus. Let’s start with the first words he said to Peter, James, and John after the transfiguration. “Get up and do not be afraid.” Those would be nice words possibly to paint on our ceilings above our beds so that we might see those words every morning when we wake. Get up and do not be afraid. We’re going to look at some other words of Jesus as well and see how they might help us build tabernacles in our hearts.
Jesus told a story, a parable of the prodigal son. The story was about a young man who basically told his father, “I wish you were dead, but since you aren’t quite dead yet, I want my inheritance now so give me my money.” The father does so, the son wastes all of the money and returns to his father to apologize and ask to be a servant in his house, but before the son even got there, the father ran out to him and threw his arms around him. The father didn’t chastise the son or seek vengeance for the hurt the son caused. Rather, he welcomed his son back with joy and love. God always loves us, even when we turn away from him, even when we hurt ourselves and others. God is always ready to welcome us back, to run towards us and wrap his arms around us. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Jesus taught us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, rather than seeking vengeance. We would hopefully seek justice in our world, but rather than seek vengeance, he teaches us to love our enemies and pray for those who wrong us. God is merciful and just, and sometimes we’re going to need to depend on God’s justice rather than seeking vengeance on our own. Such is the love God wants us to experience and have in the world that we might increase and add more love to the world rather than add more hurt and hate to the world. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Jesus tells us that he loves us and will be with us always even to the end of the ages, and although he seemingly left us by ascending into heaven, Jesus gives us an assurance that he is and will be with us always by sending us the Holy Spirit, the comforter, the Advocate to be with us, to strengthen us, to guide us, to dwell within our hearts. When everyone else seems against us, the Holy Spirit can be for us, always drawing us nearer to God. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Just before Jesus’ transfiguration and shortly after his transfiguration, Jesus told his disciples that he was going to suffer and die, and we see in that a reminder that as Jesus suffered and died, so must we all suffer and die. We hope not to have an overabundance of suffering when we die, but all of us, one day will eventually suffer and die. These lives will end, and yet we look not only to Jesus’ crucifixion and death but to his resurrection, showing us that life does not end with our deaths, but that the resurrection of the dead is real. Life continues on with God even after our physical lives here on earth have ended. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
We are taught to live with faith in Jesus, with faith in Jesus in this dual revelation of Jesus in the transfiguration, to have faith in Jesus as God, as the one through whom God’s glory shown in the transfiguration, and we’re also taught to have the faithfulness of Jesus, living out lives of law and prophet as Jesus did, living out the way he lived, faith in him as God and the faithfulness of him as a human being. “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
We also remember that God is beyond our comprehension, beyond anything we can possibly imagine, greater and vaster than we can begin to conceive, and yet this same God who is beyond our imagining is the same God who desires and promises to dwell in our hearts, and we’re invited to make places within our hearts for this vast incomprehensible God to dwell. “Get up, and do not be afraid.” Amen.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Be Perfect, Everybody...
Brad Sullivan
7th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Leviticus 19:1-2,9-18
Psalm 119:33-40
1 Corinthians 3:10-11,16-23
Matthew 5:38-48
Be perfect, everybody, you got that. Anything short of perfection, and you’re out. Perfection is a pretty tall order although as Garrison Keeler pointed out, Jesus was preaching this sermon on a mount, and here in Houston things are pretty flat, so it might not be quite as applicable to us here. Looking more seriously at the scripture, I don’t know that Jesus was saying, “be forever without fault or defect of any kind,” when he said to be perfect.
He didn’t actually even give the absolute command, “be perfect.” He rather said, “you will be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly father is perfect.” Further, the word translated as perfect can also mean “whole” and “complete”. Be whole people. Be complete people, and in that way, perfect, as your heavenly father is whole, complete, perfect.
We tend to love trying to measure up to the sinless life of Jesus and then castigating ourselves for not measuring up. That’s not the point of this passage, to set some incredibly high bar of perfection in our lives which we can never attain so that we can then spend the rest of our lives feeling badly about ourselves.
Notice that everything leading up to this statement about perfection or wholeness was a teaching about how to love others. "You have heard that it was said, `An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also…” (Matthew 5:38-39) That’s a difficult saying, to be sure, I don’t know that Jesus is telling us to sit idly by while someone beats us to a bloody pulp. I don’t believe Jesus is telling people in abusive relationships to keep taking the abuse. Jesus isn’t telling us to sit idly by while people abuse others or to ignore injustice or violence. Jesus wants us to stand up for the victims of fear, injustice, and oppression.
He’s simply commanding us to do so in love. In the example he gives, Jesus is telling us to end a cycle of violence before it really gets going. Rather than fighting back when someone strikes you on the cheek (which will lead to both people being hurt and one person likely being substantially more hurt than the other), take a bruised cheek, and offer another one. See if that will end it. We’re not talking about letting someone keep knocking our teeth out. The image Jesus gives is one of a person full of peace and love such that being struck on the cheek doesn’t incite a violent response. Such a heart doesn’t seek vengeance. Such a heart doesn’t return evil for evil. Such a heart sees with compassion, even towards one’s enemies. A heart full of peace and love is a heart that is whole, a heart that is deeply rooted in God.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu who faced terrible violence in South Africa said of his ministry, “I wouldn’t have survived without fairly substantial chunks of quiet and meditation. The demands that are made on one almost always seem to be beyond one’s natural capacities. There would be many times when the problems, the crises we were facing seemed about to overwhelm us. There’s no way in which you could have confronted these in your own strength.”
In her book The Soul of a Leader, Margaret Benefiel writes about Archbishop Tutu and gives an example of Archbishop Tutu interrupting a cycle of violence. There was a terrible occasion, when security forces killed 38 people in Sebokeng, a black township of South Africa, in 1990. When word of the massacre reached Archbishop Tutu, he was meeting with his synod of bishops. “He left the meeting to cry and pray in the chapel, and then, feeling directed by God, returned to the bishops,” and urged them to “suspend our meeting, which had never happened before, and go [to Sebokeng].” All of the bishops unanimously agreed, and the next morning they left for Sebokeng.
When they arrived, they celebrated the Eucharist in a local church and visited the injured and the bereaved. Soon thereafter, a convoy of armored police vehicles with tear gas and machine guns appeared. John Cleary of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation reported what he observed:
There is no way he could have done that if his heart was full of hatred. He had every right to be hateful toward those men, his enemies, but having that hatred for them would not have brought about a peaceful resolution. Rather than be full of hate, Archbishop Tutu and his fellow bishops were made whole, complete, perfect.
Jesus was right in telling us not to hate our enemies because we can’t deal with hate. Nowhere does scripture tell us to hate our enemies. Plenty says God will hate or does hate the enemies of Israel of the enemies of justice and mercy. So perhaps people extrapolated from those verses of scripture that since God hates our enemies, we should hate them too. "You have heard that it was said, `You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.'” The problem we find is that when we hate, love is driven from us. When we hate, even justifiably, we are diminished. We become less of who we are, hatred takes over and fills in the places that once contained us.
How can God then hate evil and those who do evil and still be whole, complete, perfect, holy? Presumably, God can do whatever God does. Even saying God hates these things, however, may be to ascribe too human a character to God. God is. In the way of life given to us by God, we find something of what God is.
The Israelites were told in Leviticus to “be holy, for [God is] holy.” Then a way of life was described in order for the people to be holy. This way of life included things like: honoring ones parents, keeping God’s Sabbaths, leaving some of one’s crop for the poor, being honest in words and actions, not stealing, making sure workers had enough wages for their daily living, looking out for the disabled, seeking justice, not hating one’s family, not taking vengeance, loving one’s neighbor.
We see in commanding this way of life not only a beautiful way for us to live, but we are also given a glimpse into the nature of God. God desires for us love, peace, honor, care for others, justice, reconciliation. Evil, injustice, malice, heartlessness, ruthlessness…these things, therefore, seem anathema to God. So, we say God hates these things. God can. God can hate those things that are anathema to God. God can do so without being destroyed. God remains whole, complete, perfect in love. We cannot. We do not. When we hate, our love is destroyed.
How then can we remain perfect, whole and complete in peace and love, without hate? Jesus tells to do so by praying. One of my seminary professors, Bishop Mark Dyer told us of a practice of prayer which he does every day. He takes out his calendar in the morning and prays for ever meeting he is going to have, ever person he knows he’s going to encounter throughout the day. He prays for those whom he is looking forward to seeing and those who, as he puts it, “get [his] Irish up.”
We’ve all got the folks who drive us a little nuts. Pray for them too. Pray for friends and family. Pray for the annoying ones. Pray for the ones we hold as enemies. Pray for a heart full of peace and love, deeply rooted in God. Such prayers and such hearts will make us whole, complete, perfect, even as God is perfect. Amen.
7th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Leviticus 19:1-2,9-18
Psalm 119:33-40
1 Corinthians 3:10-11,16-23
Matthew 5:38-48
Be perfect, everybody, you got that. Anything short of perfection, and you’re out. Perfection is a pretty tall order although as Garrison Keeler pointed out, Jesus was preaching this sermon on a mount, and here in Houston things are pretty flat, so it might not be quite as applicable to us here. Looking more seriously at the scripture, I don’t know that Jesus was saying, “be forever without fault or defect of any kind,” when he said to be perfect.
He didn’t actually even give the absolute command, “be perfect.” He rather said, “you will be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly father is perfect.” Further, the word translated as perfect can also mean “whole” and “complete”. Be whole people. Be complete people, and in that way, perfect, as your heavenly father is whole, complete, perfect.
We tend to love trying to measure up to the sinless life of Jesus and then castigating ourselves for not measuring up. That’s not the point of this passage, to set some incredibly high bar of perfection in our lives which we can never attain so that we can then spend the rest of our lives feeling badly about ourselves.
Notice that everything leading up to this statement about perfection or wholeness was a teaching about how to love others. "You have heard that it was said, `An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also…” (Matthew 5:38-39) That’s a difficult saying, to be sure, I don’t know that Jesus is telling us to sit idly by while someone beats us to a bloody pulp. I don’t believe Jesus is telling people in abusive relationships to keep taking the abuse. Jesus isn’t telling us to sit idly by while people abuse others or to ignore injustice or violence. Jesus wants us to stand up for the victims of fear, injustice, and oppression.
He’s simply commanding us to do so in love. In the example he gives, Jesus is telling us to end a cycle of violence before it really gets going. Rather than fighting back when someone strikes you on the cheek (which will lead to both people being hurt and one person likely being substantially more hurt than the other), take a bruised cheek, and offer another one. See if that will end it. We’re not talking about letting someone keep knocking our teeth out. The image Jesus gives is one of a person full of peace and love such that being struck on the cheek doesn’t incite a violent response. Such a heart doesn’t seek vengeance. Such a heart doesn’t return evil for evil. Such a heart sees with compassion, even towards one’s enemies. A heart full of peace and love is a heart that is whole, a heart that is deeply rooted in God.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu who faced terrible violence in South Africa said of his ministry, “I wouldn’t have survived without fairly substantial chunks of quiet and meditation. The demands that are made on one almost always seem to be beyond one’s natural capacities. There would be many times when the problems, the crises we were facing seemed about to overwhelm us. There’s no way in which you could have confronted these in your own strength.”
In her book The Soul of a Leader, Margaret Benefiel writes about Archbishop Tutu and gives an example of Archbishop Tutu interrupting a cycle of violence. There was a terrible occasion, when security forces killed 38 people in Sebokeng, a black township of South Africa, in 1990. When word of the massacre reached Archbishop Tutu, he was meeting with his synod of bishops. “He left the meeting to cry and pray in the chapel, and then, feeling directed by God, returned to the bishops,” and urged them to “suspend our meeting, which had never happened before, and go [to Sebokeng].” All of the bishops unanimously agreed, and the next morning they left for Sebokeng.
When they arrived, they celebrated the Eucharist in a local church and visited the injured and the bereaved. Soon thereafter, a convoy of armored police vehicles with tear gas and machine guns appeared. John Cleary of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation reported what he observed:
I heard the archbishop say, “Let us pray.” Then the noise of the vehicles stopped. The crowd went quiet. There was no sound from the Casspirs, no sound of tear gas canisters. So I looked around and there, behind me, were the Anglican bishops of Southern Africa—black, white, coloured, old, young—standing between the crowd and the Casspirs, with their arms outstretched. In that moment, I understood a little about what the Christian vision for a new South Africa cost people. I’d never witnessed that sort of courage before.Archbishop Tutu and his fellow bishops, their hearts full of peace and love, deeply rooted in God, met violence with prayer, and ended the cycle of violence. Look again at what Jesus preached to his disciples, "You have heard that it was said, `You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” I doubt Archbishop Tutu had the most warm and fuzzy feelings for the men who had killed the people of Sebokeng, but he had enough love for them to give them prayer rather than violence in response to their violence.
http://www.americamagazine.org/content/article.cfm?article_id=11625
There is no way he could have done that if his heart was full of hatred. He had every right to be hateful toward those men, his enemies, but having that hatred for them would not have brought about a peaceful resolution. Rather than be full of hate, Archbishop Tutu and his fellow bishops were made whole, complete, perfect.
Jesus was right in telling us not to hate our enemies because we can’t deal with hate. Nowhere does scripture tell us to hate our enemies. Plenty says God will hate or does hate the enemies of Israel of the enemies of justice and mercy. So perhaps people extrapolated from those verses of scripture that since God hates our enemies, we should hate them too. "You have heard that it was said, `You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.'” The problem we find is that when we hate, love is driven from us. When we hate, even justifiably, we are diminished. We become less of who we are, hatred takes over and fills in the places that once contained us.
How can God then hate evil and those who do evil and still be whole, complete, perfect, holy? Presumably, God can do whatever God does. Even saying God hates these things, however, may be to ascribe too human a character to God. God is. In the way of life given to us by God, we find something of what God is.
The Israelites were told in Leviticus to “be holy, for [God is] holy.” Then a way of life was described in order for the people to be holy. This way of life included things like: honoring ones parents, keeping God’s Sabbaths, leaving some of one’s crop for the poor, being honest in words and actions, not stealing, making sure workers had enough wages for their daily living, looking out for the disabled, seeking justice, not hating one’s family, not taking vengeance, loving one’s neighbor.
We see in commanding this way of life not only a beautiful way for us to live, but we are also given a glimpse into the nature of God. God desires for us love, peace, honor, care for others, justice, reconciliation. Evil, injustice, malice, heartlessness, ruthlessness…these things, therefore, seem anathema to God. So, we say God hates these things. God can. God can hate those things that are anathema to God. God can do so without being destroyed. God remains whole, complete, perfect in love. We cannot. We do not. When we hate, our love is destroyed.
How then can we remain perfect, whole and complete in peace and love, without hate? Jesus tells to do so by praying. One of my seminary professors, Bishop Mark Dyer told us of a practice of prayer which he does every day. He takes out his calendar in the morning and prays for ever meeting he is going to have, ever person he knows he’s going to encounter throughout the day. He prays for those whom he is looking forward to seeing and those who, as he puts it, “get [his] Irish up.”
We’ve all got the folks who drive us a little nuts. Pray for them too. Pray for friends and family. Pray for the annoying ones. Pray for the ones we hold as enemies. Pray for a heart full of peace and love, deeply rooted in God. Such prayers and such hearts will make us whole, complete, perfect, even as God is perfect. Amen.
Monday, January 31, 2011
We've got God right where we want him
Brad Sullivan
4th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Micah 6:1-8
Psalm 15
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Matthew 5:1-12
I think it’s pretty safe to say that we, Christians the world over, and really people of any faith are generally searching after God. We’re seeking God to draw near to God and to be ever closer to God in our lives. At the same time, I think that we in the church (worldwide) and in other religions are sometimes maybe hunting or tracking God in order to capture him rather than merely seeking God. I picture a couple of hunters going through a forest tracking God and coming to the bush where they know God’s hiding and they say to each other, “alright we’ve got God right where we want him.” Then they pull the bush, and one of them realizes God isn’t there, while the other one is just totally clueless and picks up whatever happens to be there.
Good religious practices become bad religious practices when we try to control God with them rather that be changed by them. We find this throughout the history of the church too, times when we’ve sought to control God through our religion. A great example is the selling of indulgences in the Roman Church centuries ago. People felt they could literally buy their way into heaven. The apostle Peter had been given the keys to the kingdom of heaven and if he forgave the sins of any they would be forgiven. So, as the religion progressed, the popes were understood as Peter’s successors. So if they forgave the sins of any they would be forgiven by God. Forgiveness of sin was needed to get into heaven, and it got to the point that if you gave money to the church, you could have your sins forgiven by the pope. Giving money to the church was a good thing, an act of charity, and it was seen as a sign of repentance. Having shown a sign of repentance, forgiveness was granted.
Unfortunately, the practice became a rule and so, in practice, you could literally buy your way into heaven, and God was understood to be bound by this. These were the rules we thought God had given, only God wasn’t really playing by those rules so he called on his buddy Martin and asked for a reformation. (Martin Luther, Protestant Reformation) Just when we think we’ve got God right where we want him, he escapes our clutches and leads us back into living lives of faith, mercy, justice, and love.
Paul was reminding the Corinthians of this in his letter to them. The Corinthians were divided as we’ve heard in recent weeks, and some of it seemed to be over their religious and non-religious pedigree.
This question about God’s blessing the question which Jesus was addressing in the beginning of the sermon we heard today. In Jesus’ time (and in our time) people assumed God’s blessing by prosperity, peace, large families, health, joy, a lack of tragedy or misfortune. The flip side is also true. People often assumed God’s blessing was withheld from those who weren’t healthy, and prosperous, or besought by tragedy.
Jesus says, “No, no. The ones whom we assume to be blessed by God are not the only ones who are blessed. Those who by all outward appearances, we would assume are not blessed: the poor in spirit, the meek, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, those who mourn, they are also blessed. Blessed as well are those who may have no outward sign of being blessed: the pure in heart, the merciful, the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. All of these are also blessed by God. You may have your rules,” Jesus was saying, “about those whom you believe God has blessed, but God isn’t bound by your rules. God can bless whomever God wants to bless.
Of course we in the church then took Jesus’ pronouncement of God’s blessing available even to the unblessables, and we made new rules about it. If you want to be blessed by God, you better mourn. Remember, we’re Christians; we’re supposed to be downtrodden, so if you’re too happy, God won’t be. Dallas Willard points out the absurdity of turning the beatitudes into rules of blessedness in his book The Divine Conspiracy. If you’re not persecuted, you can’t be blessed. Wait, you’re not meet? You’re kind of bold and brave? Well, you can’t be blessed.
The beatitudes are not prescriptions by which God must bless us or ways in which we can manipulate God into blessing us. The beatitudes are rather descriptions of some of the ways in which God’s blessing is available to all, and our efforts at controlling God and forcing his hand are all for naught.
When we use our religions to try to force God’s hand or try to capture and control God, then our good religious practices become sticks by which we use to try to have people measure up or sometimes use to punish people for not measuring up. When that happens, God escapes our clutches leads us back once again to live as he intends us to live. God wants us to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Living lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love, we will find God. Oops, there’s another rule. Living lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love, we’re not going to capture God, we’re not going to contain God or control God, but we will be living the divine life, God’s life of love.
That’s what Micah was calling the people of Israel to do, to continue with the sacrificial system if so desired, but to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Paul was reminding the Corinthians that it didn’t matter who baptized them or how great they thought they were. He called on them to quit quarreling and to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Jesus was telling his disciples that it didn’t matter if they thought someone was bless or not, God’s blessing was available to all, so quit worrying about who is blessed and who is not. Rather, live lives of faith, justice, mercy and love. Live God’s life of love. Amen.
4th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Micah 6:1-8
Psalm 15
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Matthew 5:1-12
I think it’s pretty safe to say that we, Christians the world over, and really people of any faith are generally searching after God. We’re seeking God to draw near to God and to be ever closer to God in our lives. At the same time, I think that we in the church (worldwide) and in other religions are sometimes maybe hunting or tracking God in order to capture him rather than merely seeking God. I picture a couple of hunters going through a forest tracking God and coming to the bush where they know God’s hiding and they say to each other, “alright we’ve got God right where we want him.” Then they pull the bush, and one of them realizes God isn’t there, while the other one is just totally clueless and picks up whatever happens to be there.
“I’ve got him. I’ve got God right here.”We see this happening in our passage from Micah. God says to the people of Israel:
“Um, dude, that’s a stick.”
“No it’s God, and you have to do what I say. Ooh, and God has to do what I say. I’m awesome.”
"With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? …He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?We all know from Leviticus that there was animal sacrifice to make atonement for sin in ancient Israel, and Micah was referring to that sacrificial system. God is basically saying “enough already with the burnt offerings. Be kind and merciful and just to one another, otherwise your religious practice is rather false.” There wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with the religious practices of ancient Israel except for those who sought to control God through their religious practices rather than to be changed by their religious practices. If I follow the religious practice, then God must bless me and make me right with him, but that’s not going to do it for God. As Isaiah wrote, “…these people draw near with their mouths and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their worship of me is a human commandment learned by rote”. (Isaiah 29:13).
Good religious practices become bad religious practices when we try to control God with them rather that be changed by them. We find this throughout the history of the church too, times when we’ve sought to control God through our religion. A great example is the selling of indulgences in the Roman Church centuries ago. People felt they could literally buy their way into heaven. The apostle Peter had been given the keys to the kingdom of heaven and if he forgave the sins of any they would be forgiven. So, as the religion progressed, the popes were understood as Peter’s successors. So if they forgave the sins of any they would be forgiven by God. Forgiveness of sin was needed to get into heaven, and it got to the point that if you gave money to the church, you could have your sins forgiven by the pope. Giving money to the church was a good thing, an act of charity, and it was seen as a sign of repentance. Having shown a sign of repentance, forgiveness was granted.
Unfortunately, the practice became a rule and so, in practice, you could literally buy your way into heaven, and God was understood to be bound by this. These were the rules we thought God had given, only God wasn’t really playing by those rules so he called on his buddy Martin and asked for a reformation. (Martin Luther, Protestant Reformation) Just when we think we’ve got God right where we want him, he escapes our clutches and leads us back into living lives of faith, mercy, justice, and love.
Paul was reminding the Corinthians of this in his letter to them. The Corinthians were divided as we’ve heard in recent weeks, and some of it seemed to be over their religious and non-religious pedigree.
“Paul baptized me.”Paul is saying today, “hold on a second guys, if that’s the kind of thing God used in order to bless people, then none of you would have even been baptized. It’s not as though y’all were overly intelligent, or powerful, or particularly important by society’s standards. That’s not why God blessed you. God blessed you because he loves you so be grateful, and stop trying to control God. Stop quarreling about who’s better or more blessed.
"Bully for you, I was baptized by Apollos, and he was much better than Paul, so much more eloquent. His recitation of the baptismal liturgy was flawless. God was obviously more pleased with my baptism than with yours.”
This question about God’s blessing the question which Jesus was addressing in the beginning of the sermon we heard today. In Jesus’ time (and in our time) people assumed God’s blessing by prosperity, peace, large families, health, joy, a lack of tragedy or misfortune. The flip side is also true. People often assumed God’s blessing was withheld from those who weren’t healthy, and prosperous, or besought by tragedy.
Jesus says, “No, no. The ones whom we assume to be blessed by God are not the only ones who are blessed. Those who by all outward appearances, we would assume are not blessed: the poor in spirit, the meek, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, those who mourn, they are also blessed. Blessed as well are those who may have no outward sign of being blessed: the pure in heart, the merciful, the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. All of these are also blessed by God. You may have your rules,” Jesus was saying, “about those whom you believe God has blessed, but God isn’t bound by your rules. God can bless whomever God wants to bless.
Of course we in the church then took Jesus’ pronouncement of God’s blessing available even to the unblessables, and we made new rules about it. If you want to be blessed by God, you better mourn. Remember, we’re Christians; we’re supposed to be downtrodden, so if you’re too happy, God won’t be. Dallas Willard points out the absurdity of turning the beatitudes into rules of blessedness in his book The Divine Conspiracy. If you’re not persecuted, you can’t be blessed. Wait, you’re not meet? You’re kind of bold and brave? Well, you can’t be blessed.
The beatitudes are not prescriptions by which God must bless us or ways in which we can manipulate God into blessing us. The beatitudes are rather descriptions of some of the ways in which God’s blessing is available to all, and our efforts at controlling God and forcing his hand are all for naught.
When we use our religions to try to force God’s hand or try to capture and control God, then our good religious practices become sticks by which we use to try to have people measure up or sometimes use to punish people for not measuring up. When that happens, God escapes our clutches leads us back once again to live as he intends us to live. God wants us to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Living lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love, we will find God. Oops, there’s another rule. Living lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love, we’re not going to capture God, we’re not going to contain God or control God, but we will be living the divine life, God’s life of love.
That’s what Micah was calling the people of Israel to do, to continue with the sacrificial system if so desired, but to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Paul was reminding the Corinthians that it didn’t matter who baptized them or how great they thought they were. He called on them to quit quarreling and to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Jesus was telling his disciples that it didn’t matter if they thought someone was bless or not, God’s blessing was available to all, so quit worrying about who is blessed and who is not. Rather, live lives of faith, justice, mercy and love. Live God’s life of love. Amen.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
An angry mob with torches
Brad Sullivan
5th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Isaiah 58:1-9
Psalm 112:1-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-12, (13-16)
Matthew 5:13-20
If you’ve heard me preach more than a few times, you’ve likely heard me reference this passage from Isaiah or similar passages. Just last week, we heard a similar passage from Micah, the basic idea being that our religious practices can become meaningless and will not make us righteous if our religious practices don’t also lead us to live lives of faith, justice, mercy and love as I also said last week.
Hearing from Isaiah today, he’s talking about fasting, and at first glance we think, “this would be a great passage for Lent: No Fasting!” Of course that’s not Isaiah’s point. He’s not saying that we shouldn’t fast, but that we should not think that through fasting we will be made righteous and wonderful before God. If we seek God through fasting, that’s a good thing. If through our fasting we come to a greater reliance on and trust in God, that is a good thing. The way it works is, we want whatever it is we deny ourselves during our fast.
Rationally, we know we can make it, but it feels like we can’t possibly make it through. “I want the thing from which I’m fasting, and I need it right now. Life can’t possibly be ok if I don’t get this thing that I want right now.” Then, enter a prayer of trust in God. “Lord, I don’t know how life will be ok if I don’t get the thing from which I’m fasting right now, but I’ll trust you that life will be ok. I’ll trust you that I’ll be ok without this thing.”
Through fasting in such a way, we, little by little, gain greater trust in God. Trusting in God with the little things in our lives like fasts, we may then learn to trust God in the big things in our lives. Live not only for yourself, but for others as well. Seek justice and mercy and don’t worry about your life. Those seek like pretty tall orders. The practice and habit of fasting can help us trust God in those things as well.
It’s not a fool proof plan, however, as we’ve heard in the passage from Isaiah. We can fast without overly trusting in God, but simply to hold bragging rights about who’s a better faster or whose righteousness is greater than whose.
Jesus said, “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” The scribes and the Pharisees kept the law, but did so in ways that did not honor God or other people. The way of life, given by God, had become for some rules to be followed and when possible navigated around. Keeping the rules in such a way does not please God.
For a modern Christian example, look at the way we do confession in the church. Jesus taught us that if we’re bringing an offering to the altar, that if we have a complaint against someone, we should first seek to be reconciled to that person and then bring our offering to the altar. Over the centuries in the Roman church that became translated to, “confess your sins to a priest, and then you can have communion.” As a way of life, that can be helpful. As a rule, it can be destructive.
A man came to be seeking to fulfill that rule one time before communion. He told me he was angry with someone and that he had to have confession or else he couldn’t receive communion. I kept telling him otherwise. “Go ahead and have communion and then seek reconciliation afterwards.” He refused, and I finally consented. The problem was he didn’t seem overly sorry, he was just angry and needed to hear that God would forgive him. I was caught short by the fact that this man seemed to want to fulfill the rule without actually seeking reconciliation.
I then found, however, that having heard the assurance of God’s forgiveness for those who repent, this man was able to forgive. In that time he was able to let go of his anger and come to communion in peace. There was a problem going on that this man felt that the rule must be followed, at the same time, the way of life intended by the rule also helped heal this man. So, we have a little of what Isaiah was preaching against and what Isaiah was preaching about both going on in this story.
What then, does any of this have to do with Jesus’ statement to his followers, “You are the salt of the earth”? What he actually said was, “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.” Jesus was preaching to his disciples, a group of Jews, God’s chosen people. They were the salt of the earth because they had been given faith in God and a way of life by God in order to be a light to the world.
“Let your light shine before others,” Jesus said, “so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Fulfill the law, Jesus telling his followers, but don’t live the law the way the scribes and Pharisees do. Fulfill the law in the way Isaiah preached. Fulfill the law in such a way as to bring about justice and mercy. ‘We have a beautiful way of life, Jesus was saying, a way of life centered around faith in God love and reconciliation and justice and mercy. Much of the world doesn’t live this way, so let your light shine so that others may see and come to know God and the beautiful way of life he has given us.
Israel was created to be that light to the nations, and we in the church are part of that light. We have been given faith in God and a beautiful way of life. We too are asked to let our light shine before others that they may see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven. We’ve been formed to be a city on a hill, or a light shining in the darkness. Unfortunately in the history of the church, we have at times turned even this image of light bearer into a rule which must be followed.
There were times when the church was going to “Christianize” the world. We’ve had forced confessions and baptisms. We’ve fought wars and threatened people with eternal fires of everlasting damnation, all in the name of being a light in the darkness to lead people to God. Even today, we still have, in various parts of the church, evangelism as threats of hell, scare tactics, condemning and belittling those who do not believe. I view such times in our history and such behavior today not as a light on a hill but as people carrying torches forcing their way into people’s lives and home, burning much in their way.
We weren’t called to force our faith or way of life on anyone, but to offer to people our faith and way of life. We were called to continue in our way of life, faithful to God, seeking justice, mercy, love, and reconciliation. We were called to remain salty in our way of life, like Isaiah called Israel to be. Do fast, even during Lent. Practice your faith. Keep the way of life you’ve been given no to give yourself a pat on the back but to seek God, justice, mercy, love, and reconciliation. Then be a light to others. Let folks know about your way of life.
Thinking again about the sacrament of reconciliation, for example, many outside the church see it as confession to a priest that must be done in order to be forgiven by God. Such a view is untrue and blinds people to the beauty of being able to confess one’s sins in a safe place, to receive counsel, and to hear God’s words of forgiveness declared by a human being. It is a way of life that can bring about reconciliation. There’s no magic about it, no incantation or rule. It was a way of life that can be helpful.
Now, imagine next time we see or hear about confession as this oppressive rule, or see an image in a movie or book about the oppressive rule of confession, imagine giving an explanation of the sacrament of reconciliation as a beautiful way of life. Now that would be a light shining in the darkness. Imagine fasting come Ash Wednesday and explaining to someone why you’re not eating lunch, not as a rule to be followed, but as a way of life in which we might come to greater dependence on and trust in God. That’s being alight in the darkness. Sometimes our lights are not so much torches that we carry in an angry mob, threatening people, but a beautiful way of life that we follow, a beautiful faith that we have that we can then share with others, as a light in the darkness and a city on a hill. Amen
5th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Isaiah 58:1-9
Psalm 112:1-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-12, (13-16)
Matthew 5:13-20
If you’ve heard me preach more than a few times, you’ve likely heard me reference this passage from Isaiah or similar passages. Just last week, we heard a similar passage from Micah, the basic idea being that our religious practices can become meaningless and will not make us righteous if our religious practices don’t also lead us to live lives of faith, justice, mercy and love as I also said last week.
Hearing from Isaiah today, he’s talking about fasting, and at first glance we think, “this would be a great passage for Lent: No Fasting!” Of course that’s not Isaiah’s point. He’s not saying that we shouldn’t fast, but that we should not think that through fasting we will be made righteous and wonderful before God. If we seek God through fasting, that’s a good thing. If through our fasting we come to a greater reliance on and trust in God, that is a good thing. The way it works is, we want whatever it is we deny ourselves during our fast.
Rationally, we know we can make it, but it feels like we can’t possibly make it through. “I want the thing from which I’m fasting, and I need it right now. Life can’t possibly be ok if I don’t get this thing that I want right now.” Then, enter a prayer of trust in God. “Lord, I don’t know how life will be ok if I don’t get the thing from which I’m fasting right now, but I’ll trust you that life will be ok. I’ll trust you that I’ll be ok without this thing.”
Through fasting in such a way, we, little by little, gain greater trust in God. Trusting in God with the little things in our lives like fasts, we may then learn to trust God in the big things in our lives. Live not only for yourself, but for others as well. Seek justice and mercy and don’t worry about your life. Those seek like pretty tall orders. The practice and habit of fasting can help us trust God in those things as well.
It’s not a fool proof plan, however, as we’ve heard in the passage from Isaiah. We can fast without overly trusting in God, but simply to hold bragging rights about who’s a better faster or whose righteousness is greater than whose.
Jesus said, “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” The scribes and the Pharisees kept the law, but did so in ways that did not honor God or other people. The way of life, given by God, had become for some rules to be followed and when possible navigated around. Keeping the rules in such a way does not please God.
For a modern Christian example, look at the way we do confession in the church. Jesus taught us that if we’re bringing an offering to the altar, that if we have a complaint against someone, we should first seek to be reconciled to that person and then bring our offering to the altar. Over the centuries in the Roman church that became translated to, “confess your sins to a priest, and then you can have communion.” As a way of life, that can be helpful. As a rule, it can be destructive.
A man came to be seeking to fulfill that rule one time before communion. He told me he was angry with someone and that he had to have confession or else he couldn’t receive communion. I kept telling him otherwise. “Go ahead and have communion and then seek reconciliation afterwards.” He refused, and I finally consented. The problem was he didn’t seem overly sorry, he was just angry and needed to hear that God would forgive him. I was caught short by the fact that this man seemed to want to fulfill the rule without actually seeking reconciliation.
I then found, however, that having heard the assurance of God’s forgiveness for those who repent, this man was able to forgive. In that time he was able to let go of his anger and come to communion in peace. There was a problem going on that this man felt that the rule must be followed, at the same time, the way of life intended by the rule also helped heal this man. So, we have a little of what Isaiah was preaching against and what Isaiah was preaching about both going on in this story.
What then, does any of this have to do with Jesus’ statement to his followers, “You are the salt of the earth”? What he actually said was, “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.” Jesus was preaching to his disciples, a group of Jews, God’s chosen people. They were the salt of the earth because they had been given faith in God and a way of life by God in order to be a light to the world.
“Let your light shine before others,” Jesus said, “so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Fulfill the law, Jesus telling his followers, but don’t live the law the way the scribes and Pharisees do. Fulfill the law in the way Isaiah preached. Fulfill the law in such a way as to bring about justice and mercy. ‘We have a beautiful way of life, Jesus was saying, a way of life centered around faith in God love and reconciliation and justice and mercy. Much of the world doesn’t live this way, so let your light shine so that others may see and come to know God and the beautiful way of life he has given us.
Israel was created to be that light to the nations, and we in the church are part of that light. We have been given faith in God and a beautiful way of life. We too are asked to let our light shine before others that they may see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven. We’ve been formed to be a city on a hill, or a light shining in the darkness. Unfortunately in the history of the church, we have at times turned even this image of light bearer into a rule which must be followed.
There were times when the church was going to “Christianize” the world. We’ve had forced confessions and baptisms. We’ve fought wars and threatened people with eternal fires of everlasting damnation, all in the name of being a light in the darkness to lead people to God. Even today, we still have, in various parts of the church, evangelism as threats of hell, scare tactics, condemning and belittling those who do not believe. I view such times in our history and such behavior today not as a light on a hill but as people carrying torches forcing their way into people’s lives and home, burning much in their way.
We weren’t called to force our faith or way of life on anyone, but to offer to people our faith and way of life. We were called to continue in our way of life, faithful to God, seeking justice, mercy, love, and reconciliation. We were called to remain salty in our way of life, like Isaiah called Israel to be. Do fast, even during Lent. Practice your faith. Keep the way of life you’ve been given no to give yourself a pat on the back but to seek God, justice, mercy, love, and reconciliation. Then be a light to others. Let folks know about your way of life.
Thinking again about the sacrament of reconciliation, for example, many outside the church see it as confession to a priest that must be done in order to be forgiven by God. Such a view is untrue and blinds people to the beauty of being able to confess one’s sins in a safe place, to receive counsel, and to hear God’s words of forgiveness declared by a human being. It is a way of life that can bring about reconciliation. There’s no magic about it, no incantation or rule. It was a way of life that can be helpful.
Now, imagine next time we see or hear about confession as this oppressive rule, or see an image in a movie or book about the oppressive rule of confession, imagine giving an explanation of the sacrament of reconciliation as a beautiful way of life. Now that would be a light shining in the darkness. Imagine fasting come Ash Wednesday and explaining to someone why you’re not eating lunch, not as a rule to be followed, but as a way of life in which we might come to greater dependence on and trust in God. That’s being alight in the darkness. Sometimes our lights are not so much torches that we carry in an angry mob, threatening people, but a beautiful way of life that we follow, a beautiful faith that we have that we can then share with others, as a light in the darkness and a city on a hill. Amen
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