a Sermon for Lent 3A
Text: John 4:5-42
Jesus walks
Through the eyes of others, we see our Lord walking
on water, through deserts, in our minds.
We focus on photographs left to time
by those that saw something in Him, something different,
maybe even dangerous. But compelling.
In this picture, a woman stands before Him,
and he sits, relaxed and confident and
when they speak, you can see the magic flowing
between their lips, more intimate than a kiss,
more close than their bodies clutched together.
What we see is love. A dangerous love.
This talk is different. It is a linguistic dance between Jesus and this Samaritan woman. It begins with her self-consciousness; she knows that her people are outcasts and aren’t the right kind of Jews. That they are lesser. But Jesus doesn’t treat her that way. He treats her differently: not like a princess: elevated: but as an equal and participant. That they are the same. And in the end, she is changed. Remember last week’s reading about Nicodemus? Jesus asks if he is willing to undergo a life-long transformation: of being re-created. No. This woman gets the same question and she says yes.
Living Waters
When Jesus says that this living water
gushes up to eternal life, we scratch our heads,
confused: is He talking about heaven?
We focus on the physicality of the water
and permanence of time; but just as John invites us
to see Jesus as offering constant transformation
he offers this woman eternal life—a life
a now
a being
a way
a vibrant life that radiates love
that exemplifies Jesus like a mirror
reflecting life and love onto everything.
The conversation that Jesus and the woman have starts out talking about water, H2O and turns metaphorical, poetic. We often forget that John isn’t writing a biography, but a poetic form that we might today call creative nonfiction. Jesus sees in this well the opportunity to reveal a message about love and about being re-created.
Jacob’s Well
Jacob came across a well with sheep around it.
And a man was there, waiting for more to arrive,
when Rachel comes with her sheep. He refuses
to move the stone from the well, for not all
of the sheep have come. Jacob shoves the rock
so that these sheep may drink now.
This well becomes the people’s well.
Jesus uses Jacob’s well to speak about the power of the Living Water and Eternal Life—this vibrant life of being re-created. That Jesus, like Jacob shoves the rock away. Jesus brings that vibrant spirit to us immediately—we don’t have to wait for everybody to get there. And when this woman hears this, she runs into town to tell everybody.
The Disciples
They don’t get it.
They never do.
Following their master
like puppies, devoted,
always hungry, and
marking their territory.
Jesus gives them this living picture,
our photograph of a woman
transformed into vibrant life
and he tells them
`One sows and another reaps.'
Because she is off to sow and
the bountiful harvest will need reapers.
The woman is filled with the Spirit, and yet the disciples still aren’t sure of their jobs—their place in the story. Jesus has to put the tools in their hands and say “Look! The people will be here soon! Get ready to help them find the vibrant life of being re-created.”
Being Re-Created
I know I’m wrong from time to time.
I know I don’t live the life I should
or follow Jesus’s teachings closely enough
and I certainly don’t pray enough,
so why am I afraid of being re-created?
Why do I fear the vibrant life Jesus promises all of us?
Is it because he promises it to us all?
It certainly isn’t because I think that highly of myself
and this life. But I am. Being re-created means
things have to change and I have to change.
The Pious Young Man was asked to change
and he ran away. Is that what I’m doing?
This is a gospel of transformation. The woman goes from being a nobody and becomes a catalyst for the Kingdom. She isn’t convinced by Jesus’s arguments, nor is she magically given confidence because Jesus is a wizard or a shaman. She is filled with the Spirit because she realizes that she needs it. She realizes that her previous life was not a vibrant life and she was transformed. And was moved to bring others to the well to drink the Living Water offered not just by Jesus, but by his disciples. As Jesus says, we don’t have to drink from His well again—but we must be ready to act, to reap what others sow. May we be so ready and so moved.
Showing posts with label Kingdom of GOD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kingdom of GOD. Show all posts
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
No Retaliation
a Sermon for Epiphany 7A
Text: Matthew 5:38-48
Retaliation and escalation
Jesus begins the gospel with a familiar phrase: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.'” Now, I know that you know where this comes from and what it is about; I am just reminding you. To do that, we’ll have to go back thousands of years, long before Jesus and even the Torah (from where this phrase comes). Long before all of this, there was a different law of the land. A law, unwritten, but understood universally:
You can see how this thinking has persisted throughout history. Look at mafia movies:
Enshrining Evil
There seems to be something in us: something that wants to seek vengeance, to retaliate violently. Something that is in us at a truly base level. Which is why it was so remarkable that GOD would instruct the people with this teaching: “An eye for an eye,” because he tells them not to over-retaliate, to not teach people lessons. If someone steals your goat, you steal it back—you don’t burn his house down or anything else.
But, Jesus recognizes the problem: it actually enshrines violence. It makes retaliation OK, and He isn’t OK with that. Because we love vengeance, so we seek out the most “appropriate” retaliations. If someone messes with us a certain way, we desire to mess with them back—to hurt them in the very way they hurt us.
In the immediately preceding passage, Jesus makes a similar claim about oaths. He says that when you swear an oath, when you pinkie-swear with someone, you are saying that you will be honest and not steal or you will do what you say you will do. At the same time, you also communicate that the rest of the time, you don’t have to be honest. You communicate that it is OK to lie and cheat and steal all the rest of the time. So don’t swear any oath. GOD sees you—even inside your head—and knows when you lie or cheat or steal, so be a person who never lies and cheats and steals and you will never need an oath.
Jesus’s way: The Love Revolution
Jesus offers us a different way. But for some reason, we don’t understand it. It has to do with our reptilian brains—the oldest part of our brain—that is hardwired with two options in response to adversity: fight or flight. Either we retaliate, or we run away. This is also the way of the world. The part we’ve inherited from thousands of years ago that yearns for violence. The part that says that the most preferable option is to fight back. That good people fight and cowards run away.
So when we hear Jesus say “But I say to you Do not resist an evildoer,” we hear that as cowardly—as encouraging us to run away. We have to make it fit in that ancient paradigm: it is either one or the other: we have two square pegs and two square holes. And the peg Jesus hands us is round.
To make sense of this, Jesus gives us these three, very visual examples of this third way; and we might mistake them because they are so different from the world:
In the first he says, If somebody hits you on the cheek, offer him the other. Look at this: this is what turning your cheek looks like. You are giving them another shot. That is not running away and that is not retaliating.
Then he says, If somebody sues you for your coat, give them your cloak as well. Imagine the courtroom scene. You are the defendant and the charges are being read and you stand up, and start taking your clothes off. You just take them all off, including your shoes, and you ball them up and walk them to the other desk and you hand them over. Then you walk back and sit down. That is not running away and that is not retaliating.
The third one is awesome—but we screw it up so badly. We misunderstand it. Jesus says, If someone forces you to walk a mile, walk a second one. We hear that phrase, go the extra mile as if it were the ultimate do-gooderism. Good job! You did a little extra! That Protestant Work Ethic thing really suits you! But here is what Jesus is really saying. A Roman soldier would come across a Jewish peasant force him to carry something like 120 pounds of gear. And if the peasant valued his life, he would do it. Now, the image hits home at the important juncture at the end of that mile. Imagine the soldier, chuckling with his buddies about this guy carrying his stuff. He turns to the peasant and says:
Jesus wants us to get that this is a love revolution.
We’ve been reading The Secret Message of Jesus each Sunday, and last week we covered the idea that violent revolution is not revolutionary. That overthrowing a violent regime with a violent revolution is just perpetuating a cycle of violence: it is replacing violence with violence. And more, it enshrines a cycle of violence. Our own revolution enshrined a culture of violence for us. It told us that it is acceptable and there are times to fight fire with fire.
Jesus encourages us to fight fire with water. To violence, love is the water.
It Begins Here
This whole arc, Matthew 5, the first third of the Sermon on the Mount builds from the Beatitudes to this moment. We learn that we are to be and live a certain way, not act a certain way. We are to love. When Jesus says to love your enemies, I think he really intends to say that when we have a love revolution, there are no enemies. Everyone gets loved.
In the last year, we’ve seen bitterness and anger at St. Paul’s.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
Anonymous letters, backbiting, potshots from the peanut gallery, back room conversations about people and their families.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
People have even used our youth as weapons.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
This ends today.
When St. Paul’s is on track, it is the epicenter of the love revolution. We might track evil in, like mud on our shoes. Just tap your shoe, and knock it off. This is a new place, not of this world. Something new.
Here and now—we love. We are a new creation built on love.
Text: Matthew 5:38-48
GOD of Hope and Wonder, you give us the tools of great change and the opportunity to make the choice. Help us to see your ways for us as the right choice. Amen.
Retaliation and escalation
Jesus begins the gospel with a familiar phrase: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.'” Now, I know that you know where this comes from and what it is about; I am just reminding you. To do that, we’ll have to go back thousands of years, long before Jesus and even the Torah (from where this phrase comes). Long before all of this, there was a different law of the land. A law, unwritten, but understood universally:
If you do something to me, I do something to you.It is as simple as that. OK, not just as simple as that, because we didn’t just retaliate, we had to do more: we had to teach them a lesson. They had to know that they shouldn’t have done it, and won’t do it again. So if they hit you, you maimed them.
If you do something to me, I do something bigger to you.Sometimes that lesson wasn’t actually for them, but for other people. So if someone stole your goat from you, you would kill them. You had to show what happens when someone messes with you. If they insulted your wife, you killed them, and their wife. If they went after your kids, you killed them, their wife, and their kids: you wiped the whole family from the face of the earth. That was just what you did.
Besides, they were clearly evil people, anyway.
You can see how this thinking has persisted throughout history. Look at mafia movies:
“Eh! He disrespected me, so I shot him in the head!”And every week (I guarantee it) there is at least one movie at the theater that encourages over-retaliation. At least one movie that glorifies vengeance. The first one that came to my mind was from a few years ago: Taken with Liam Neeson; a movie in which a man’s daughter is kidnapped, and he proceeds to kill all the people involved in the kidnapping. And we want him to! We watch him get his bloody vengeance and we don’t want to see him show any mercy! He has a movie out this week, Unknown, which appears to have a similar vengeance plot.
Enshrining Evil
There seems to be something in us: something that wants to seek vengeance, to retaliate violently. Something that is in us at a truly base level. Which is why it was so remarkable that GOD would instruct the people with this teaching: “An eye for an eye,” because he tells them not to over-retaliate, to not teach people lessons. If someone steals your goat, you steal it back—you don’t burn his house down or anything else.
But, Jesus recognizes the problem: it actually enshrines violence. It makes retaliation OK, and He isn’t OK with that. Because we love vengeance, so we seek out the most “appropriate” retaliations. If someone messes with us a certain way, we desire to mess with them back—to hurt them in the very way they hurt us.
In the immediately preceding passage, Jesus makes a similar claim about oaths. He says that when you swear an oath, when you pinkie-swear with someone, you are saying that you will be honest and not steal or you will do what you say you will do. At the same time, you also communicate that the rest of the time, you don’t have to be honest. You communicate that it is OK to lie and cheat and steal all the rest of the time. So don’t swear any oath. GOD sees you—even inside your head—and knows when you lie or cheat or steal, so be a person who never lies and cheats and steals and you will never need an oath.
Oaths enshrine evil just as “an eye for an eye” enshrines violence.
Jesus’s way: The Love Revolution
Jesus offers us a different way. But for some reason, we don’t understand it. It has to do with our reptilian brains—the oldest part of our brain—that is hardwired with two options in response to adversity: fight or flight. Either we retaliate, or we run away. This is also the way of the world. The part we’ve inherited from thousands of years ago that yearns for violence. The part that says that the most preferable option is to fight back. That good people fight and cowards run away.
So when we hear Jesus say “But I say to you Do not resist an evildoer,” we hear that as cowardly—as encouraging us to run away. We have to make it fit in that ancient paradigm: it is either one or the other: we have two square pegs and two square holes. And the peg Jesus hands us is round.
To make sense of this, Jesus gives us these three, very visual examples of this third way; and we might mistake them because they are so different from the world:
In the first he says, If somebody hits you on the cheek, offer him the other. Look at this: this is what turning your cheek looks like. You are giving them another shot. That is not running away and that is not retaliating.
Then he says, If somebody sues you for your coat, give them your cloak as well. Imagine the courtroom scene. You are the defendant and the charges are being read and you stand up, and start taking your clothes off. You just take them all off, including your shoes, and you ball them up and walk them to the other desk and you hand them over. Then you walk back and sit down. That is not running away and that is not retaliating.
The third one is awesome—but we screw it up so badly. We misunderstand it. Jesus says, If someone forces you to walk a mile, walk a second one. We hear that phrase, go the extra mile as if it were the ultimate do-gooderism. Good job! You did a little extra! That Protestant Work Ethic thing really suits you! But here is what Jesus is really saying. A Roman soldier would come across a Jewish peasant force him to carry something like 120 pounds of gear. And if the peasant valued his life, he would do it. Now, the image hits home at the important juncture at the end of that mile. Imagine the soldier, chuckling with his buddies about this guy carrying his stuff. He turns to the peasant and says:
“We’re here. I’ll take my stuff back.”And the peasant responds:
“Actually, I want to keep walking. I’m good.”This isn’t weak-kneed flubberings and it isn’t work a little harder, either. It is a different kind of option.
Jesus wants us to get that this is a love revolution.
We’ve been reading The Secret Message of Jesus each Sunday, and last week we covered the idea that violent revolution is not revolutionary. That overthrowing a violent regime with a violent revolution is just perpetuating a cycle of violence: it is replacing violence with violence. And more, it enshrines a cycle of violence. Our own revolution enshrined a culture of violence for us. It told us that it is acceptable and there are times to fight fire with fire.
That is the way of the world. Not the way of Jesus.
Jesus encourages us to fight fire with water. To violence, love is the water.
It Begins Here
This whole arc, Matthew 5, the first third of the Sermon on the Mount builds from the Beatitudes to this moment. We learn that we are to be and live a certain way, not act a certain way. We are to love. When Jesus says to love your enemies, I think he really intends to say that when we have a love revolution, there are no enemies. Everyone gets loved.
In the last year, we’ve seen bitterness and anger at St. Paul’s.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
Anonymous letters, backbiting, potshots from the peanut gallery, back room conversations about people and their families.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
People have even used our youth as weapons.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
This ends today.
When St. Paul’s is on track, it is the epicenter of the love revolution. We might track evil in, like mud on our shoes. Just tap your shoe, and knock it off. This is a new place, not of this world. Something new.
Here and now—we love. We are a new creation built on love.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Destroying Dogma
a Sermon for Epiphany 5A
Text: Matthew 5:13-20
Liberty and Freedom
This morning’s collect used two words we love deeply: liberty and freedom. There’s something about those words, isn’t there? Liberty. Freedom. Ooh! It’s in our bones—our ethnic heritage, our social groupings, our society at-large. It’s everywhere. Maybe our brains like liberty and hearts like freedom. It does something to us. We’re seeing a living example right now in Egypt and Tunisia. We can only hope and pray that they continue to seek liberty and freedom, and avoid the comfort of authoritarianism.
But the point is that we love these words: liberty and freedom. Let’s say them together. Out loud. If you are reading this in a Barnes & Noble Café, just say it out loud, anyway! Liberty. Freedom. Liberty! Freedom! Liberty!!! Freedom!!!!
Ah! Don’t you feel better?
Our gospel, on the other hand, uses a word that doesn’t excite us the same way: Law. Well, maybe the lawyers in the room (and the Pharisees) are allowed to get excited about the word. It is their vocation, after all.
Law.
It just doesn’t have the same feel, does it? Freedom is, well, freeing…while Law feels more restrictive. In fact, we often talk about it as the opposite of freedom and liberty, but we know, deep-down, that it is essential to liberty. Our country was founded on laws; laws that enshrined and created freedom. And yet, we feel restricted by them anyway.
This gospel has Jesus answer an unspoken question about the Law: “Jesus, why do you hate it?” A more charitable and authentic question might be better phrased “Jesus, why do you keep breaking the Law? Aren’t you supposed to uphold it?” Jesus’s response is actually quite surprising. He says “I don’t hate it: I love it! I love every letter of it.”
The Law
This is an important statement because we need to step back from our 21st Century American understanding of the word "law". The Hebrew word we translate as The Law is Torah. We know this word, because it is also the name of the first five books of the Hebrew Scripture. When Jesus or the Pharisees talk about The Law, they aren’t simply talking about a legal code established centuries earlier, they are talking about these books of the Bible. They are speaking about the story of GOD’s relationship with humanity. Some Hebrew scholars encourage us to speak not of TL: The Law, but of The Way. Sound familiar?
And what Jesus seems to be dealing with are two groupings or understandings of ethical behavior:
Jesus goes and stomps all over the Pharisaic Law, essentially saying “That isn’t Torah, that’s man’s law.”
We have a similar structure today, in the church:
We see Jesus trample on the dogmas of his day, and I think, would encourage us to do the same. But the point isn’t to be obstinate: but to direct our attention to the doctrine, The Law, The Way, Torah.
The Point
By now, you are no doubt wondering what the point is.
You are all very smart and astutely noticed that this is still Matthew 5, and comes immediately after the Beatitudes; that this is still the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.
Now notice that Jesus is talking about “entering the Kingdom of Heaven” in last verse. This is the fourth mentioning of the Kingdom of Heaven in just 20 verses. Last week we learned that the poor of spirit and the persecuted will possess the kingdom: “Blessed are the poor of spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” And we also learned that the Kingdom is in the present—that the Children of God are blessed peacemakers.
The reason Jesus doesn’t create an ethical framework or subset of laws like the Pharisees, or give us a laundry list of dogma to obey is because we are called to live and be a certain way, not behave a certain way. We are called to love generously and indiscriminately, not prescribe who gets love. We are called to single out who needs our love most and give it to them instead of punishing them further. We are called to live in the Kingdom now, forgiving each other, loving each other.
Jesus names the least in the kingdom: the scribes and the Pharisees. When we obsess about each other's behavior—we are the least. When we demand adherence to laws we’ve made—we are the least. When we hold grudges and insult one another in the name of Jesus—we are the least in the Kingdom.
I don’t know about you, but I refuse to strive for least.
Text: Matthew 5:13-20
GOD of Hope and Wonder, we think we’re doing your will when we create an ethical framework for our lives, for our church, and for our society. Help us to overcome our hubris . Amen.
Liberty and Freedom
This morning’s collect used two words we love deeply: liberty and freedom. There’s something about those words, isn’t there? Liberty. Freedom. Ooh! It’s in our bones—our ethnic heritage, our social groupings, our society at-large. It’s everywhere. Maybe our brains like liberty and hearts like freedom. It does something to us. We’re seeing a living example right now in Egypt and Tunisia. We can only hope and pray that they continue to seek liberty and freedom, and avoid the comfort of authoritarianism.
But the point is that we love these words: liberty and freedom. Let’s say them together. Out loud. If you are reading this in a Barnes & Noble Café, just say it out loud, anyway! Liberty. Freedom. Liberty! Freedom! Liberty!!! Freedom!!!!
Ah! Don’t you feel better?
Our gospel, on the other hand, uses a word that doesn’t excite us the same way: Law. Well, maybe the lawyers in the room (and the Pharisees) are allowed to get excited about the word. It is their vocation, after all.
Law.
It just doesn’t have the same feel, does it? Freedom is, well, freeing…while Law feels more restrictive. In fact, we often talk about it as the opposite of freedom and liberty, but we know, deep-down, that it is essential to liberty. Our country was founded on laws; laws that enshrined and created freedom. And yet, we feel restricted by them anyway.
This gospel has Jesus answer an unspoken question about the Law: “Jesus, why do you hate it?” A more charitable and authentic question might be better phrased “Jesus, why do you keep breaking the Law? Aren’t you supposed to uphold it?” Jesus’s response is actually quite surprising. He says “I don’t hate it: I love it! I love every letter of it.”
The Law
This is an important statement because we need to step back from our 21st Century American understanding of the word "law". The Hebrew word we translate as The Law is Torah. We know this word, because it is also the name of the first five books of the Hebrew Scripture. When Jesus or the Pharisees talk about The Law, they aren’t simply talking about a legal code established centuries earlier, they are talking about these books of the Bible. They are speaking about the story of GOD’s relationship with humanity. Some Hebrew scholars encourage us to speak not of TL: The Law, but of The Way. Sound familiar?
And what Jesus seems to be dealing with are two groupings or understandings of ethical behavior:
- Torah: The overarching sense of community and connectedness and relationship with GOD. This means the truths found in Scripture, the story, relationship, and agreed upon authority.
- Pharisaic Law: The ethical framework that expounds on Torah. This is about relating the truth of Torah to the world and present conditions.
- Example: The Torah speaks of keeping the Sabbath day and making it Holy.
- The Pharisees began listing all of the types of things that constituted work on the Sabbath:
The Pharisees know that Jim Bob is kind of an idiot, so they believe he needs things spelled out for him. So they take the teaching and they say we need to make sure Jim Bob doesn’t do anything like “work” on the Sabbath. It talks about not going into the field, but Jim Bob makes stuff, so he shouldn't do that. He also shouldn’t cook or clean or go shopping or sell stuff or…on and on.
Jesus goes and stomps all over the Pharisaic Law, essentially saying “That isn’t Torah, that’s man’s law.”
We have a similar structure today, in the church:
- Doctrine: The overarching law is called doctrine: This is made up of scriptural-based faith statements and mutually agreed principals.
- Dogma: The ethical framework that is based on doctrine is called dogma. These are the localized ethics created by humans.
- Example: One doctrine is that Jesus was a human for a prescribed time in history.
- One dogma is the Roman Catholic’s ruling against the use of birth control.
We see Jesus trample on the dogmas of his day, and I think, would encourage us to do the same. But the point isn’t to be obstinate: but to direct our attention to the doctrine, The Law, The Way, Torah.
The Point
By now, you are no doubt wondering what the point is.
You are all very smart and astutely noticed that this is still Matthew 5, and comes immediately after the Beatitudes; that this is still the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.
Now notice that Jesus is talking about “entering the Kingdom of Heaven” in last verse. This is the fourth mentioning of the Kingdom of Heaven in just 20 verses. Last week we learned that the poor of spirit and the persecuted will possess the kingdom: “Blessed are the poor of spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” And we also learned that the Kingdom is in the present—that the Children of God are blessed peacemakers.
The reason Jesus doesn’t create an ethical framework or subset of laws like the Pharisees, or give us a laundry list of dogma to obey is because we are called to live and be a certain way, not behave a certain way. We are called to love generously and indiscriminately, not prescribe who gets love. We are called to single out who needs our love most and give it to them instead of punishing them further. We are called to live in the Kingdom now, forgiving each other, loving each other.
Jesus names the least in the kingdom: the scribes and the Pharisees. When we obsess about each other's behavior—we are the least. When we demand adherence to laws we’ve made—we are the least. When we hold grudges and insult one another in the name of Jesus—we are the least in the Kingdom.
I don’t know about you, but I refuse to strive for least.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Blessed
a Sermon for Epiphany 4A
Text: Matthew 5:1-12
[Note: the original sermon was preached from sparse notes. What follows is a fleshing out of those notes as best as I can.]
Who we are not talking about
Jesus gives us a pretty good description throughout each of the gospels of the people to whom we are to minister. In many places, it is the outsider, such as…
Through all of these stories of Jesus talking to, eating with, advocating for these groups, we start to harmonize them and see any of Jesus’s teachings about others as being about this faceless group of outsiders, condemned by Jewish society. We make the relevant translation to our own world and see the homeless we’ve met or the people we’ve helped in the words of the gospel. But today, let’s not do that. These might be the people Jesus really is talking about in this gospel, but for today, let’s not think about them. Let’s say that this has nothing to do with others. In fact, this has to do with us.
9 that are blessed
The way the Beatitudes are set up is as nine blessings. The first is telling: “Blessed are the poor in spirit”. We often jump to the other with this one. We think of the depressed, or the doubter, or the one unhappy in church. If we were Evangelicals, we call these “the unchurched.” Instead, let’s see this as people that look out the window and see the trouble in the world. People that are hurt by the pain they see through that window, and are made sad by destruction and evil.
The next is “Blessed are those who mourn”. This isn’t simply widows, but all of those who grieve what they or others have lost: all people that know loss and are pained by what is gone.
“Blessed are the meek” isn’t just talking about the weak or the timid, but all those who refuse to watch one more person get hurt or abused—and we also refuse to be the one who does it.
These first three are more or less passive, or receptive. What is seen affects their outlook and begins to affect their action. The next three are increasingly active.
The fourth, and I love the way this is described, is “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”. Think about those descriptors: how do we feel hunger, but as the very seizing of our stomachs—a pain that rises from our bellies. Thirst is similar: our throats get itchy and irritated, our tongues and mouths get dry and scratchy; our entire neck and heads scream out for relief. For those that hunger and thirst for righteousness, it is the very body that feels and reflects the pain of injustice—compelling us to relieve that pain.
The fifth, “Blessed are the merciful” are those who reject vengeance and hatred, because there is already too much of that, and instead respond to everything with compassion and love.
The sixth, “Blessed are the pure in heart” are those who do not respond out of intellect or tradition, but out of GOD’s righteousness.
Each of these “blesseds” builds up to the seventh; the crux of the whole thing, and the most active: “blessed are the peacemakers”.
And the last two are what happens in response to how we act, seemingly bringing us back to the receptive beginning:
8. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake
9. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
Christ is the Beatitudes
This entire conversation isn’t a list of tasks for Christians. It isn’t simply an ethic.
As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote:
The Two Most Important Words
This gospel uses two really important words that we should look at.
happiness…
justice & truth…
Wholeness, completeness…
The well-being of others.
This is why the seventh Beatitude is so important to the whole gospel: “Holy are the Shalom-makers, for they will be called children of God.” We know that it is our job to bring wholeness and completeness to the world. That we are the ones that transform this gospel about other people into a gospel about us in this world. That these Beatitudes are, in fact, about us.
The Jesus at the center of this gospel, longs for us to make this world complete in the hear and now. He has given us a vision of the Kingdom and about who we are to be. We are invited to be reconciled and to reconcile, to love and to be loved. To share in the sanctified as poor in spirit, mourners, the meek, righteousness seers, mercy bestowers, lovers, and shalommakers.
Text: Matthew 5:1-12
[Note: the original sermon was preached from sparse notes. What follows is a fleshing out of those notes as best as I can.]
GOD of Hope and Wonder, you gave us Jesus as Messiah and Lord. Open our hearts to love as he loves, our imaginations to dream as he dreams, and our eyes to see the world as he sees it. Amen.The first five words of the gospel give us an interesting way to see this very familiar gospel of the Beatitudes:
“When Jesus saw the crowds.”We don’t know what he sees, or what he makes of it, but this symbol is very powerful; Jesus saw them.
Who we are not talking about
Jesus gives us a pretty good description throughout each of the gospels of the people to whom we are to minister. In many places, it is the outsider, such as…
- People from another tribe—like the Samaritans,
- Traitors to the tribe—tax collectors were seen as traitors because they were Jews that taxed other Jews on behalf of Rome, and of course,
- The ritually impure within the tribe—prostitutes and other “sinners” whose very livelihood kept them from being considered one of the “normal” people.
Through all of these stories of Jesus talking to, eating with, advocating for these groups, we start to harmonize them and see any of Jesus’s teachings about others as being about this faceless group of outsiders, condemned by Jewish society. We make the relevant translation to our own world and see the homeless we’ve met or the people we’ve helped in the words of the gospel. But today, let’s not do that. These might be the people Jesus really is talking about in this gospel, but for today, let’s not think about them. Let’s say that this has nothing to do with others. In fact, this has to do with us.
9 that are blessed
The way the Beatitudes are set up is as nine blessings. The first is telling: “Blessed are the poor in spirit”. We often jump to the other with this one. We think of the depressed, or the doubter, or the one unhappy in church. If we were Evangelicals, we call these “the unchurched.” Instead, let’s see this as people that look out the window and see the trouble in the world. People that are hurt by the pain they see through that window, and are made sad by destruction and evil.
The next is “Blessed are those who mourn”. This isn’t simply widows, but all of those who grieve what they or others have lost: all people that know loss and are pained by what is gone.
“Blessed are the meek” isn’t just talking about the weak or the timid, but all those who refuse to watch one more person get hurt or abused—and we also refuse to be the one who does it.
These first three are more or less passive, or receptive. What is seen affects their outlook and begins to affect their action. The next three are increasingly active.
The fourth, and I love the way this is described, is “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”. Think about those descriptors: how do we feel hunger, but as the very seizing of our stomachs—a pain that rises from our bellies. Thirst is similar: our throats get itchy and irritated, our tongues and mouths get dry and scratchy; our entire neck and heads scream out for relief. For those that hunger and thirst for righteousness, it is the very body that feels and reflects the pain of injustice—compelling us to relieve that pain.
The fifth, “Blessed are the merciful” are those who reject vengeance and hatred, because there is already too much of that, and instead respond to everything with compassion and love.
The sixth, “Blessed are the pure in heart” are those who do not respond out of intellect or tradition, but out of GOD’s righteousness.
Each of these “blesseds” builds up to the seventh; the crux of the whole thing, and the most active: “blessed are the peacemakers”.
And the last two are what happens in response to how we act, seemingly bringing us back to the receptive beginning:
8. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake
9. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
Christ is the Beatitudes
This entire conversation isn’t a list of tasks for Christians. It isn’t simply an ethic.
As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote:
“Action in accord with Christ does not originate in some ethical principle, but in the very person of Jesus Christ.” (Ethics 2005, 231)Jesus is the center of the Beatitudes.
Notice that the gospel’s description is not simply what would be if we did this, but the future that will be when we are this.Remember? “Blessed are the meek”—not “you will be blessed when you choose to be meek”.
The Two Most Important Words
This gospel uses two really important words that we should look at.
- Blessed: We take the word blessed to mean blessings in life—some of you (not me) have been blessed with good looks or wealth or talents. In other words, the stuff we get from GOD. A more ancient and appropriate understanding would be sanctified or consecrated or holy. ‘Holy are the meek’.
- Peace: The 21st Century American English word is so inadequate to describe Jesus’s intentions for us. All we know about peace is the absence of war or conflict. Jesus meant, and would have used the Hebrew word Shalom. Shalom doesn’t simply mean the absence of war or conflict, but
happiness…
justice & truth…
Wholeness, completeness…
The well-being of others.
This is why the seventh Beatitude is so important to the whole gospel: “Holy are the Shalom-makers, for they will be called children of God.” We know that it is our job to bring wholeness and completeness to the world. That we are the ones that transform this gospel about other people into a gospel about us in this world. That these Beatitudes are, in fact, about us.
The Jesus at the center of this gospel, longs for us to make this world complete in the hear and now. He has given us a vision of the Kingdom and about who we are to be. We are invited to be reconciled and to reconcile, to love and to be loved. To share in the sanctified as poor in spirit, mourners, the meek, righteousness seers, mercy bestowers, lovers, and shalommakers.
May we be receptive to the world, moved and inspired by righteousness and love, that we seek mercy instead of vengeance, hope in the face of despair, and justice when we feel pain; and may the world be so transformed that we see one another as blessed. Amen.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Gift
a Sermon for Proper 17C
Text: Luke 14:1, 7-14
We all know what it is like to give presents. Searching for the perfect gift. For me, I turn the page on the calendar to December 1st and an alarm goes off in my head: time to start looking for Christmas. Sure, 3 ½ weeks isn’t enough time to discover the perfect gift, but getting good gifts is important, too.
What’s a good gift? A gift you know they will like…because they’ve told you. You get the wishlist out and you buy from it. You’re both happy. After a couple of years, you’ll forget what you’ve given and they’ll forget that you gave it to them, but so what? In the giving, you’re both happy. That’s a good gift.
The perfect gift, on the other hand, is something you know they’ll like because you know them well. And chances are, they didn’t know that they even wanted it until you gave it to them. They can determine your love and appreciation for them through the gift. This begins to get at the perfect gift.
'The Gift'
Do you like puzzles? There is one that the French philosopher Jacques Derrida gives us called ‘The Gift’. It goes something like this:
Alex gives a gift to Bob. But as soon as Bob receives it, he receives something else: an encumbrance or a debt. He now, because of protocol, must give a gift to Alex in return. This debt is made worse by the fact that he is required to put as much into giving the return gift as Alex put into giving it: it has to cost the same in both money and effort. He also can’t give the return gift the next day—it has to be given spontaneously, so Bob must search out the day that expresses the same amount of spontaneity.
Let’s say Alex figures this out and decided to save Bob some of this headache, so he chooses to give his gift anonymously, since Scripture seems to encourage that. But that makes it even worse for Bob, since he still gains the debt, but no means of getting rid of it, and has to search for who gave him the gift. At the same time, Alex gets extra self-esteem for having done something really generous.
And what if Alex’s gift is met ungraciously by Bob, wouldn’t that fix the problem? No, because then Alex recognizes his own superiority in selflessly giving this gift—that Bob just isn’t capable of recognizing its value.
Many might think the conversation ends here. Either there is no way to solve it or Derrida is being too cynical in his description of gift-giving. But Derrida doesn’t actually end here. Derrida recognizes the problem, what he calls “the Impossibility”. That we are stuck in an arrangement that truly is unsolvable, so he gives us two important responses:
In this morning’s gospel, Jesus reveals the very same notion about ‘The Gift’. He says to be generous and give without thinking about what you are going to get in return. Give. That’s what I’m asking you to do. Give.
Then he throws us for a loop, because he tells us what we are going to receive: grace. He says to us: here’s what you’re going to get; but don’t do it for that reason. Do it to do it. Give generously.
Baptism
What this means is symbolized in what we’ll be doing in just a few minutes: we’ll be baptizing this beautiful little girl. She will receive a gift today that comes in three parts. The first part comes from GOD and it is one that we all comprehend: she gets GOD’s grace. That’s the one we all think of first. The other two are gifts that we get to participate in. We give the gift of membership. In just a few minutes, in baptism, she gets to be one of us. She’ll get all of the rights and responsibilities that each of us has as Christians. She is a full member of the club. The third part of the gift, and perhaps the most important is what we all get to do for her. Her parents and godparents will stand up and vow to her and to GOD to raise her well to spiritual maturity. Then all of us will do the same—vowing that we will care for her spiritual well-being.
When Derrida talked about ‘The Gift’, he was speaking about relationship and obligation, but we’re giving this girl a gift she can’t repay. There is no way that she can give us all a gift in return. But in a few years, if we all do our jobs, she’ll be standing up and vowing to help another little girl grow up in the Spirit. Just as many of us have been given that opportunity.
Jesus gave us a gift that we couldn’t hope to repay in the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection. We can’t hope to repay that kind of gift.
Dr. King's Gift
We received a gift 47 years ago yesterday in an event known simply as “The March” or “The March on Washington.” And at the end of the march, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave one of the most important speeches in the history of the western world; a speech that rocked the world and motivates people half a century later. A speech that is now referred to by its iconic image: “I have a dream”. There’s a lot about the speech that we remember, including the second most recognizable line; in reference to his daughter, he dreams of the day in which she will be judged “not by the color of her skin, but the content of her character.”
But this speech isn’t just a speech. It is a sermon. And we know this because Dr. King quotes the prophets Amos and Isaiah. This one I read to you this morning is from Isaiah:
At the first level, Dr. King is talking about race. At the second, he’s talking about equality. But where Dr. King, in quoting the prophets, is dwelling is up here, at the third level: the Kingdom of GOD.
The Kingdom isn’t about being color-blind or post-racial; it isn’t simply about getting along well with everybody. It’s about loving and sharing with everybody regardless of what it means.
My last image, and I’m not sure where it came from, goes like this. When somebody asks us for some money, and we want to give it to them, we reach into our pockets, and we hand it over [demonstrating]. When our arm stops moving—when we’ve offered the money over to the other person—is the moment that the money is no longer ours. Even though it hasn’t left our hand yet, it is no longer ours. It’s GOD’s. If the other person takes it or not. What they do or don’t do with it. It isn’t ours. In giving generously, we give up possession and we hand it over.
The Kingdom, baptism, gifts to strangers and to friends and family are all opportunities for our generosity. For us to not only feel good for doing it and to be good in the eyes of others, but to live in the way Jesus instructs us to live. We’re asked to be generous without concern for what we get out of it.
To show generosity in spite of receiving.
Text: Luke 14:1, 7-14
GOD of Hope and Wonder, you have given us the most amazing gifts: in our world and in baptism. Help us to know and feel the generosity of giving that you dream for us. Amen.
We all know what it is like to give presents. Searching for the perfect gift. For me, I turn the page on the calendar to December 1st and an alarm goes off in my head: time to start looking for Christmas. Sure, 3 ½ weeks isn’t enough time to discover the perfect gift, but getting good gifts is important, too.
What’s a good gift? A gift you know they will like…because they’ve told you. You get the wishlist out and you buy from it. You’re both happy. After a couple of years, you’ll forget what you’ve given and they’ll forget that you gave it to them, but so what? In the giving, you’re both happy. That’s a good gift.
The perfect gift, on the other hand, is something you know they’ll like because you know them well. And chances are, they didn’t know that they even wanted it until you gave it to them. They can determine your love and appreciation for them through the gift. This begins to get at the perfect gift.
'The Gift'
Do you like puzzles? There is one that the French philosopher Jacques Derrida gives us called ‘The Gift’. It goes something like this:
Alex gives a gift to Bob. But as soon as Bob receives it, he receives something else: an encumbrance or a debt. He now, because of protocol, must give a gift to Alex in return. This debt is made worse by the fact that he is required to put as much into giving the return gift as Alex put into giving it: it has to cost the same in both money and effort. He also can’t give the return gift the next day—it has to be given spontaneously, so Bob must search out the day that expresses the same amount of spontaneity.
Let’s say Alex figures this out and decided to save Bob some of this headache, so he chooses to give his gift anonymously, since Scripture seems to encourage that. But that makes it even worse for Bob, since he still gains the debt, but no means of getting rid of it, and has to search for who gave him the gift. At the same time, Alex gets extra self-esteem for having done something really generous.
And what if Alex’s gift is met ungraciously by Bob, wouldn’t that fix the problem? No, because then Alex recognizes his own superiority in selflessly giving this gift—that Bob just isn’t capable of recognizing its value.
Many might think the conversation ends here. Either there is no way to solve it or Derrida is being too cynical in his description of gift-giving. But Derrida doesn’t actually end here. Derrida recognizes the problem, what he calls “the Impossibility”. That we are stuck in an arrangement that truly is unsolvable, so he gives us two important responses:
- Give the gift anyway and accept that this is the arrangement. Strive to give without expecting anything in return, while knowing that you will. But it is the gift itself—and the circle filled with generosity and reciprocation—that begets a deep connection between people.
- Trust in our economies. This means that we know that they system works this way, but people don’t. Alex gives a gift out of love and generosity and Bob receives it and feels it and is compelled, not out of duty, but that love and generosity, to give a beautiful gift in return.
In this morning’s gospel, Jesus reveals the very same notion about ‘The Gift’. He says to be generous and give without thinking about what you are going to get in return. Give. That’s what I’m asking you to do. Give.
Then he throws us for a loop, because he tells us what we are going to receive: grace. He says to us: here’s what you’re going to get; but don’t do it for that reason. Do it to do it. Give generously.
Baptism
What this means is symbolized in what we’ll be doing in just a few minutes: we’ll be baptizing this beautiful little girl. She will receive a gift today that comes in three parts. The first part comes from GOD and it is one that we all comprehend: she gets GOD’s grace. That’s the one we all think of first. The other two are gifts that we get to participate in. We give the gift of membership. In just a few minutes, in baptism, she gets to be one of us. She’ll get all of the rights and responsibilities that each of us has as Christians. She is a full member of the club. The third part of the gift, and perhaps the most important is what we all get to do for her. Her parents and godparents will stand up and vow to her and to GOD to raise her well to spiritual maturity. Then all of us will do the same—vowing that we will care for her spiritual well-being.
When Derrida talked about ‘The Gift’, he was speaking about relationship and obligation, but we’re giving this girl a gift she can’t repay. There is no way that she can give us all a gift in return. But in a few years, if we all do our jobs, she’ll be standing up and vowing to help another little girl grow up in the Spirit. Just as many of us have been given that opportunity.
Jesus gave us a gift that we couldn’t hope to repay in the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection. We can’t hope to repay that kind of gift.
Dr. King's Gift
We received a gift 47 years ago yesterday in an event known simply as “The March” or “The March on Washington.” And at the end of the march, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave one of the most important speeches in the history of the western world; a speech that rocked the world and motivates people half a century later. A speech that is now referred to by its iconic image: “I have a dream”. There’s a lot about the speech that we remember, including the second most recognizable line; in reference to his daughter, he dreams of the day in which she will be judged “not by the color of her skin, but the content of her character.”
But this speech isn’t just a speech. It is a sermon. And we know this because Dr. King quotes the prophets Amos and Isaiah. This one I read to you this morning is from Isaiah:
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."
At the first level, Dr. King is talking about race. At the second, he’s talking about equality. But where Dr. King, in quoting the prophets, is dwelling is up here, at the third level: the Kingdom of GOD.
The Kingdom isn’t about being color-blind or post-racial; it isn’t simply about getting along well with everybody. It’s about loving and sharing with everybody regardless of what it means.
My last image, and I’m not sure where it came from, goes like this. When somebody asks us for some money, and we want to give it to them, we reach into our pockets, and we hand it over [demonstrating]. When our arm stops moving—when we’ve offered the money over to the other person—is the moment that the money is no longer ours. Even though it hasn’t left our hand yet, it is no longer ours. It’s GOD’s. If the other person takes it or not. What they do or don’t do with it. It isn’t ours. In giving generously, we give up possession and we hand it over.
The Kingdom, baptism, gifts to strangers and to friends and family are all opportunities for our generosity. For us to not only feel good for doing it and to be good in the eyes of others, but to live in the way Jesus instructs us to live. We’re asked to be generous without concern for what we get out of it.
To show generosity in spite of receiving.
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