I almost never actually blog, that is to say, write purely for the community of people that actually read this stuff online as opposed to hearing me preach it or read it in the church newsletter. In fact, when I first started this blog, last year, it was principally a place to archive information that might be necessary to make my ordination application look better, and to keep a copy off my hard drive, which is often reformatted for entertainments sake.
I have been informed, however, that I do not only have a core of temporal friends that keep up with my spiritual progress via this information, but they have been referring. I offer my humble apologies to people who have made the effort, because I have not been meeting you half way. In response, welcome to the first of many changes to this blog, a more readable format. Please bear with me as I either figure out how to manage this thing on my own, or more likely, trade babysitting with all my geek friends that have allowed me to ride the wave of technological progress without getting my feet wet.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Sunday, January 1, 2006
Mary, Mother of God
We celebrated Christmas in Bakersfield with the whole family this year. The special reason being that after 6 long years, finally there was another baby in the family. As we celebrated Michael and Christmas in a simultaneous flood of people and packaging, there was a great deal of talk devoted to wondering how Michael is going to turn out. Would he be short? Have his dad's nose? Mix plaids like his grandfather? Be a singer like his grandmother? And there was a lot of rehashing of the childhood exploits of both his parents.
These stories that we tell ourselves and these stories that we hear, become the stories of who we are, and who our children are in the world. And these stories have a direct impact on how our children are named. New parents absorb all the information around them, especially new parents. They love to hear all the wonderful traits their children have and the wonderful things that people predict that they might do. Michael's parents will take all the crazy and wonderful stories that we shared about him, and those stories will, in some way, predict their expectations about him.
But those stories we told of Michael are nothing compared with the stories that Mary heard about her son. The shepherds did not come up and tell Mary, What a strong grip he has. Jesus is going to be great carpenter just like Joseph. They said, Hey! There really is a baby in this manger. That means there really must have been an angel telling us about it. And what that angel said must be true. Mary, that angel told us that this kid is The Son of God, and he is going to be king, and he is going to save everyone. Wow. Your son is going to die for the sins of all mankind.
It does not leave a warm feeling in the parental heart to hear that this baby you are so in love with and into whom you have already invested so much energy is going to die for every person who called you a teenage mother. For every person who said he will never amount to anything with a whore for a mother and a cuckhold for a father.
Here is where I know it was a man who wrote about Mary. Because what does she do? Does she yell at those shepherds for waking the baby? Did Mary get angry at shepherds for talking trash and blaming angels? Does she bewail her own encounter with an angel, which the shepherds have just confirmed? After all, she has already been visited, long before the birth, and she had done whatever she could to just make this baby acceptable, so he could have a normal life. All we really want for our children is a normal and happy life, without too much pain or fear. We don't really want to raise the child who will take away the sins of the world. The gospel writers don't say any of that. They say, Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. My mother calls this grace under fire. Or, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. We aren't sure what Mary actually made of any of this so called treasure – if she thought it was a blessing or a curse, all we know is she pondered it in her heart, which is to say, not aloud.
Right now, ponder in your own heart what you think you would do. What if an angel came and told us exactly what God intended our children to do with their lives. What if an angel came right now and told you what you were supposed to be doing. Do you think you are doing it? How would it it change us? Would we live bolder, do things without fear of consequence because we would know the ultimate outcome of our actions.
If an angel came and said, You will end the use of land mines. You will end hunger in your city. You will create housing for the homeless. You will create universal health care.
What would you do? If an angel came in all its glory and commissioned us to do these things, I think we would do them. After all, they don't seem more impossible than an angel.
Well, an angel came to Mary and said you are going to give birth to a son in the most awkward of circumstances, and he will be the most important person ever born, for he will be the son of God himself, and that son will save the whole world. And then, as if God and angels knew that Mary would pretend that never happened, God sent shepherds to her to repeat all that the angel had told her. Mary could not pretend the angel was in her head, shepherds had heard it too, and they spread their tales to a lot more people than just Mary.
It took that much impossible to make Mary's job possible. And Mary knew to raise a son who was everything God needed him to be. Her son died that we might live.
Jesus died.
Are we living?
We have been told we need sin no more, but we are. We might argue the details, but we are all guilty of the greatest of sins, not living in accord with the will of God. None of us are living the potential within us that is so much greater than our courage. Marianne Williamson in A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles has something to say on this that I am sure you have heard before.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
If we let it, Scripture can guide us through that fear. Others have tread this path before us and we are not alone. But Scripture will not tell us what profession to take; to be a doctor or a lawyer or a garbage collector. But it does tell us to follow our passion, that thing that just annoys us beyond civility. That annoyance about the ills of the world is God given. And what to do about it, that is in Scripture too. Compassion, mindfulness, grace and forgiveness are all necessary to change to world.
Those are the skills Jesus used. Those are the skills that Mary taught him, because angels told her what was needed. Jesus knew that he was going to die for all of these people who ignored him and spit on him, but Mary knew it longer. She didn't try to get out of being the mother of God, like Samuel she simply said, Here I am. And she did what needed to be done. We glorify Jesus every week. This week, let us glorify Mary, let us honor her sacrifice. Let us live boldly. To do so, we don't have to be named Jesus. We don't have to die for all of mankind, either, but we do have to listen for the voices of angels and tread boldly into our inheritance.
These stories that we tell ourselves and these stories that we hear, become the stories of who we are, and who our children are in the world. And these stories have a direct impact on how our children are named. New parents absorb all the information around them, especially new parents. They love to hear all the wonderful traits their children have and the wonderful things that people predict that they might do. Michael's parents will take all the crazy and wonderful stories that we shared about him, and those stories will, in some way, predict their expectations about him.
But those stories we told of Michael are nothing compared with the stories that Mary heard about her son. The shepherds did not come up and tell Mary, What a strong grip he has. Jesus is going to be great carpenter just like Joseph. They said, Hey! There really is a baby in this manger. That means there really must have been an angel telling us about it. And what that angel said must be true. Mary, that angel told us that this kid is The Son of God, and he is going to be king, and he is going to save everyone. Wow. Your son is going to die for the sins of all mankind.
It does not leave a warm feeling in the parental heart to hear that this baby you are so in love with and into whom you have already invested so much energy is going to die for every person who called you a teenage mother. For every person who said he will never amount to anything with a whore for a mother and a cuckhold for a father.
Here is where I know it was a man who wrote about Mary. Because what does she do? Does she yell at those shepherds for waking the baby? Did Mary get angry at shepherds for talking trash and blaming angels? Does she bewail her own encounter with an angel, which the shepherds have just confirmed? After all, she has already been visited, long before the birth, and she had done whatever she could to just make this baby acceptable, so he could have a normal life. All we really want for our children is a normal and happy life, without too much pain or fear. We don't really want to raise the child who will take away the sins of the world. The gospel writers don't say any of that. They say, Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. My mother calls this grace under fire. Or, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. We aren't sure what Mary actually made of any of this so called treasure – if she thought it was a blessing or a curse, all we know is she pondered it in her heart, which is to say, not aloud.
Right now, ponder in your own heart what you think you would do. What if an angel came and told us exactly what God intended our children to do with their lives. What if an angel came right now and told you what you were supposed to be doing. Do you think you are doing it? How would it it change us? Would we live bolder, do things without fear of consequence because we would know the ultimate outcome of our actions.
If an angel came and said, You will end the use of land mines. You will end hunger in your city. You will create housing for the homeless. You will create universal health care.
What would you do? If an angel came in all its glory and commissioned us to do these things, I think we would do them. After all, they don't seem more impossible than an angel.
Well, an angel came to Mary and said you are going to give birth to a son in the most awkward of circumstances, and he will be the most important person ever born, for he will be the son of God himself, and that son will save the whole world. And then, as if God and angels knew that Mary would pretend that never happened, God sent shepherds to her to repeat all that the angel had told her. Mary could not pretend the angel was in her head, shepherds had heard it too, and they spread their tales to a lot more people than just Mary.
It took that much impossible to make Mary's job possible. And Mary knew to raise a son who was everything God needed him to be. Her son died that we might live.
Jesus died.
Are we living?
We have been told we need sin no more, but we are. We might argue the details, but we are all guilty of the greatest of sins, not living in accord with the will of God. None of us are living the potential within us that is so much greater than our courage. Marianne Williamson in A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles has something to say on this that I am sure you have heard before.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
If we let it, Scripture can guide us through that fear. Others have tread this path before us and we are not alone. But Scripture will not tell us what profession to take; to be a doctor or a lawyer or a garbage collector. But it does tell us to follow our passion, that thing that just annoys us beyond civility. That annoyance about the ills of the world is God given. And what to do about it, that is in Scripture too. Compassion, mindfulness, grace and forgiveness are all necessary to change to world.
Those are the skills Jesus used. Those are the skills that Mary taught him, because angels told her what was needed. Jesus knew that he was going to die for all of these people who ignored him and spit on him, but Mary knew it longer. She didn't try to get out of being the mother of God, like Samuel she simply said, Here I am. And she did what needed to be done. We glorify Jesus every week. This week, let us glorify Mary, let us honor her sacrifice. Let us live boldly. To do so, we don't have to be named Jesus. We don't have to die for all of mankind, either, but we do have to listen for the voices of angels and tread boldly into our inheritance.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
What's John Doing in Advent?
( I apologize that I am so behind. I had to transcribe this from handwritten notes and memory. Sorry John.)
So what is John the Baptist doing in the Advent cycle anyway? On first glance, aren't we anticipating the birth of Jesus? I can see talking about mothers at this time; in the time before my children were born, it was all about me. Well, I am not going to talk about me at all, and I will get to John in a little bit. Because of the meditative theme of Advent, I want to draw our attention for a moment into the past, back before Christians, back before Jews, back before pagans, right at the point where all we knew was that there was something bigger than us, and that summer follows winter. What we are left with is cold, and hunger and darkness. Everyone, at some time, is overwhelmed by this both physically and spiritually.
Now, in the 21st century we have electricity to chase away the dark, and cars to take us to sunnier locales, but we still experience that visceral fear that summer may not follow winter. The other day I was checking the weather forecast for snow and made the mistake of noting the sunrise and sunset times. 7:30 am and 4:30 pm. And overcast. And raining. And 40 degrees. Didn't someone tell me that the Willamette Valley had a temperate climate? Contemplating that tiny window of light, not even sunshine, just visibility really, caused a despair to well up in me that the dark and cold would ever end. It felt like it would be dark forever. Why get out of bed? Intellectually, I know, and you know, that the earth is going to swing back around and soon enough it will be hot and we will commiserate with each other about the sweat inducing heat of this building but before then, we are going to need something to get us through.
For a little while longer, the greater culture will say Merry Christmas, but most people don't actually know what they are saying when they use these words. Most have turned the holiday from the ANSWER to the season of winter(in nature and our lives) to just another reason to fear. People, ourselves included, will prepare food, light candles, purchase gifts and gather in close to each other in hopes that the darkness won't be visible from their vantage point.
We celebrate something other that the denial of fear. That specific improbable impossible life, that of God born a baby. There aren't any reputable scholars left that think Jesus was born in December. So why do we celebrate this miracle in December, rather than in the more likely time of August, when tax rolls were actually compelled?
Because we are celebrating something more than facts. Faith is a belief that is beyond factual knowledge and speaks to truth. We are much removed from first century Palestine, we are more likely the oppressor than the oppressed – but we are still a people affected by the natural world. This time of year connects us to the more frightened aspects of our humanity, the cold, hungry and wet that we spend so many resources avoiding cannot be completely displaced, because it is not nature itself that is cold, wet and hungry, it is our souls. At this time of year, the depths of winter, we are the same as people who lived a thousand years ago, and people who live a thousand miles away, and people whose lives are a thousand times more desperate than our own. Our fears may even seem greater because we have so much farther to fall.
Do you remember John the Baptist? Are you wondering even more what he has to do with anything here? He does. He is hope. That hope that we cling to in the darkness. A clarion calling through the darkness of despair. We are lost, we are cold, we are hungry and we are wet. Surely, God has forsaken us. But John say hope, hope, for he is coming. John in his hair shirt, a figure I can only imagine in the heat of summer, lived through the winter as well as we, and he says to all people, at every time and every place - hope.
We are reminded of John the Baptist here, now, because we are called to pick up his work and carry on. We are called to be a steady beacon of hope in this time of fear. When someone wants to know why you aren't caught up in the frantic pace of “the holidays” tell them that you have not misplaced your hope. Maybe they will look at you funny, maybe they won't hear you at all, but maybe they will ask you what you mean. After all, it is a strange answer.
What does it mean to say we have not misplaced our hope? It means we know there is no hope in things. Stuff will not fill the empty places within us. Food will not make us full, new kitchen appliances will not make us happy, and even the joy on Aunt Agnes' face when she opens here favorite cologne will not get us through the next two months. It is going to be just as cold and wet and dark in January and February and March as it was in November and December. There is no hope in any of these things.
But there is hope in each other. We are a people made for community. All people are made for community. The only thing that makes people truly happy is other people. The perfection of the message of Christ is that is places people first. The wonder of the message of Christ is its absurdity. God couldn't get through to us that people are more important than sacrifices in temples on special holidays. The only thing he could do was be human and guide by example. And the only way to do that was to be born a baby. Have any of you seen a baby lately? In and of itself, it is bear food. And not much of a meal at that. But in community, a baby is the center of everything, displacing the importance of location, socio-economic standing, and nature itself. In the course of your life, you have perhaps never been so important to so many people as when you were born.
And before you get sad that you are no longer important, think. Are you still out there, both vulnerable and vocal about what is important like you were when you were a baby? Are you closed up in the cocoon of your life where everyone knows you and agrees with you? Or are you exposed and vocal about the most important things, like the fact that people are what are important to God. Are you spreading hope now, like you did when you were born?
Be John this week. Shake people up with the steadfastness of your hope. Confuse people with your vulnerability to others. Engage people with the crazy idea that people are so important to God that he came to show us what to do from the perspective of a baby and not a king. Be hope.
So what is John the Baptist doing in the Advent cycle anyway? On first glance, aren't we anticipating the birth of Jesus? I can see talking about mothers at this time; in the time before my children were born, it was all about me. Well, I am not going to talk about me at all, and I will get to John in a little bit. Because of the meditative theme of Advent, I want to draw our attention for a moment into the past, back before Christians, back before Jews, back before pagans, right at the point where all we knew was that there was something bigger than us, and that summer follows winter. What we are left with is cold, and hunger and darkness. Everyone, at some time, is overwhelmed by this both physically and spiritually.
Now, in the 21st century we have electricity to chase away the dark, and cars to take us to sunnier locales, but we still experience that visceral fear that summer may not follow winter. The other day I was checking the weather forecast for snow and made the mistake of noting the sunrise and sunset times. 7:30 am and 4:30 pm. And overcast. And raining. And 40 degrees. Didn't someone tell me that the Willamette Valley had a temperate climate? Contemplating that tiny window of light, not even sunshine, just visibility really, caused a despair to well up in me that the dark and cold would ever end. It felt like it would be dark forever. Why get out of bed? Intellectually, I know, and you know, that the earth is going to swing back around and soon enough it will be hot and we will commiserate with each other about the sweat inducing heat of this building but before then, we are going to need something to get us through.
For a little while longer, the greater culture will say Merry Christmas, but most people don't actually know what they are saying when they use these words. Most have turned the holiday from the ANSWER to the season of winter(in nature and our lives) to just another reason to fear. People, ourselves included, will prepare food, light candles, purchase gifts and gather in close to each other in hopes that the darkness won't be visible from their vantage point.
We celebrate something other that the denial of fear. That specific improbable impossible life, that of God born a baby. There aren't any reputable scholars left that think Jesus was born in December. So why do we celebrate this miracle in December, rather than in the more likely time of August, when tax rolls were actually compelled?
Because we are celebrating something more than facts. Faith is a belief that is beyond factual knowledge and speaks to truth. We are much removed from first century Palestine, we are more likely the oppressor than the oppressed – but we are still a people affected by the natural world. This time of year connects us to the more frightened aspects of our humanity, the cold, hungry and wet that we spend so many resources avoiding cannot be completely displaced, because it is not nature itself that is cold, wet and hungry, it is our souls. At this time of year, the depths of winter, we are the same as people who lived a thousand years ago, and people who live a thousand miles away, and people whose lives are a thousand times more desperate than our own. Our fears may even seem greater because we have so much farther to fall.
Do you remember John the Baptist? Are you wondering even more what he has to do with anything here? He does. He is hope. That hope that we cling to in the darkness. A clarion calling through the darkness of despair. We are lost, we are cold, we are hungry and we are wet. Surely, God has forsaken us. But John say hope, hope, for he is coming. John in his hair shirt, a figure I can only imagine in the heat of summer, lived through the winter as well as we, and he says to all people, at every time and every place - hope.
We are reminded of John the Baptist here, now, because we are called to pick up his work and carry on. We are called to be a steady beacon of hope in this time of fear. When someone wants to know why you aren't caught up in the frantic pace of “the holidays” tell them that you have not misplaced your hope. Maybe they will look at you funny, maybe they won't hear you at all, but maybe they will ask you what you mean. After all, it is a strange answer.
What does it mean to say we have not misplaced our hope? It means we know there is no hope in things. Stuff will not fill the empty places within us. Food will not make us full, new kitchen appliances will not make us happy, and even the joy on Aunt Agnes' face when she opens here favorite cologne will not get us through the next two months. It is going to be just as cold and wet and dark in January and February and March as it was in November and December. There is no hope in any of these things.
But there is hope in each other. We are a people made for community. All people are made for community. The only thing that makes people truly happy is other people. The perfection of the message of Christ is that is places people first. The wonder of the message of Christ is its absurdity. God couldn't get through to us that people are more important than sacrifices in temples on special holidays. The only thing he could do was be human and guide by example. And the only way to do that was to be born a baby. Have any of you seen a baby lately? In and of itself, it is bear food. And not much of a meal at that. But in community, a baby is the center of everything, displacing the importance of location, socio-economic standing, and nature itself. In the course of your life, you have perhaps never been so important to so many people as when you were born.
And before you get sad that you are no longer important, think. Are you still out there, both vulnerable and vocal about what is important like you were when you were a baby? Are you closed up in the cocoon of your life where everyone knows you and agrees with you? Or are you exposed and vocal about the most important things, like the fact that people are what are important to God. Are you spreading hope now, like you did when you were born?
Be John this week. Shake people up with the steadfastness of your hope. Confuse people with your vulnerability to others. Engage people with the crazy idea that people are so important to God that he came to show us what to do from the perspective of a baby and not a king. Be hope.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Enjoy the Silence
What are you going to do with your Advent Season this year? Most of us will probably spend it rushing between parties, shopping, and either cleaning for guests to come, or packing to be guests somewhere else. In between we will put in as few hours of work as possible to get it all done while our employers want us to stay overtime.
Do you know what you are supposed to be doing with your Advent Season? Once, a long time ago before marketing departments spent millions on advertising, advent was the season of peace, of stillness. The harvest was in, the party was over, and it was the beginning of a whole season of waiting(aka winter).
Advent is a time for silence, rightly falling in the season of silence. Just imagine the silence of a snowfall. It is in this time that we need to stop, to sit, to wait, and to listen to the silence. But silent is not the same as alone. Silence is, in fact, the most essential element of any conversation. If someone is not listening, then all of our speech is for nothing. In the year of the church, it is the time to experience the distance between us and God.
The church year is a celebration of the life of Jesus that mirrors the natural year, with its seasons; winter, spring, summer and fall. It is distinctly different from the calendar year or the fiscal year or the school year. Which calendar are you on right now? Probably you are juggling several already-if your children are in school, if you are looking for your winter boots, if you are gathering tax receipts from charity donations, and purchasing a new calendar for 2006. And if you are feeling a little harried from all of that, perhaps it is because you are not honoring the most important calendar in your life.
Be in the silence this Advent. Even though it is hard, even though there are only 15 more shopping days until Christmas. Even though the rest of the world is making more noise than usual, we must give ourselves this time to listen to the silence. Because if we don't hear the silence, we never have the chance to hear the answer.
(The 15 days reflects the actual publishing date of the article. I am not that confused about the date. hml)
Do you know what you are supposed to be doing with your Advent Season? Once, a long time ago before marketing departments spent millions on advertising, advent was the season of peace, of stillness. The harvest was in, the party was over, and it was the beginning of a whole season of waiting(aka winter).
Advent is a time for silence, rightly falling in the season of silence. Just imagine the silence of a snowfall. It is in this time that we need to stop, to sit, to wait, and to listen to the silence. But silent is not the same as alone. Silence is, in fact, the most essential element of any conversation. If someone is not listening, then all of our speech is for nothing. In the year of the church, it is the time to experience the distance between us and God.
The church year is a celebration of the life of Jesus that mirrors the natural year, with its seasons; winter, spring, summer and fall. It is distinctly different from the calendar year or the fiscal year or the school year. Which calendar are you on right now? Probably you are juggling several already-if your children are in school, if you are looking for your winter boots, if you are gathering tax receipts from charity donations, and purchasing a new calendar for 2006. And if you are feeling a little harried from all of that, perhaps it is because you are not honoring the most important calendar in your life.
Be in the silence this Advent. Even though it is hard, even though there are only 15 more shopping days until Christmas. Even though the rest of the world is making more noise than usual, we must give ourselves this time to listen to the silence. Because if we don't hear the silence, we never have the chance to hear the answer.
(The 15 days reflects the actual publishing date of the article. I am not that confused about the date. hml)
Speaking to the Silence
I am not going to preach the gospel today. I'm hardly going to preach at all. Shannon wanted me to, he thought I should go right to the sticking place and address the fact that it has Jesus saying the first generation of followers would live to see the end of the world. That isn't what Advent is about though. This isn't the time in our lives set aside to tear apart inadequacies. This is the time of our lives set aside to listen to the silence. It is a time to reflect on our longing for connection with God, in anticipation of our celebration of God's way out of that separation. When the scribes of Matthew wrote into the gospel that they would see the return of Jesus, they were giving us a concrete example of the feeling of longing. Even amongst those who knew Jesus, even the experience of God in human form did not diminish the feeling of being apart from Him. Meditating on this divide is the work we are meant to do during Advent.
The longing to bridge the silence with God did not start after the Ascension of Christ. That longing has been there since God pulled Adam from the dust. In the casting out from Eden, the slavery of Egypt, the exile of the Babylonians, the oppression of the Romans, the Protestant Reformation, even our troubles in the Anglican Communion now, we are beseeching God to answer our pleas. We want to be in accord with God's will, we just don't know what to do.
The old testament reading from Isaiah is a powerful statement of the pain of waiting for God to speak. Just listen.
“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
so that the mountains would quake at your presence-
as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil-”
Where is our burning bush?
“When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,
you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.”
We have no Moses. We have no intermediary. Come anyway.
“But you were angry, and we sinned; because you hid yourself we transgressed.”
Without your presence, we have no choice but to do the wrong thing.
“Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord,
and do not remember iniquity forever.”
We are sorry, Lord God, please forgive us.
“After all this, will you restrain yourself, O Lord?
Will you keep silent, and punish us so severely?”
Speak to me. Speak to me God.
For this writer, I cannot think, having read ahead, that God ever answered. But out here, past the end of the book, somewhere in the midst of the story, we know that there was an answer. Although the author of this lament could not know it, God could not keep silent; he did answer. He sent his Son, to say, see me. See how the divine can meet in the flesh. Do these things, do them in my name, and in the doing, you will never be alone again.
I have been meditating on this by reading a little book by Barbara Brown Taylor called, When God is Silent. I haven't spoken to any one idea or illustration I got from this book. But the realization that Advent is the time to embrace the silence is the result of my understanding of the central question of this book; what does it means to speak authentically when God is silent more often than not in our lives? I just wanted to be sure to credit it somewhere along the way.
This is the time, in the cycle of the church year, in the life of our parish, and in our own lives, to stop, to sit, to wait, and to listen to the silence. Silent is not the same as alone. Silence is, in fact, the most essential element of any conversation. If someone is not listening, then all of our speech is for nothing.
Be in the silence this Advent. Even though it is hard, even though there are only 27 more shopping days until Christmas. Even though the rest of the world is making more noise than usual, we must give ourselves this time to be listen to the silence. Because if we don't hear the silence, we never have the chance to hear the answer.
The longing to bridge the silence with God did not start after the Ascension of Christ. That longing has been there since God pulled Adam from the dust. In the casting out from Eden, the slavery of Egypt, the exile of the Babylonians, the oppression of the Romans, the Protestant Reformation, even our troubles in the Anglican Communion now, we are beseeching God to answer our pleas. We want to be in accord with God's will, we just don't know what to do.
The old testament reading from Isaiah is a powerful statement of the pain of waiting for God to speak. Just listen.
“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
so that the mountains would quake at your presence-
as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil-”
Where is our burning bush?
“When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,
you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.”
We have no Moses. We have no intermediary. Come anyway.
“But you were angry, and we sinned; because you hid yourself we transgressed.”
Without your presence, we have no choice but to do the wrong thing.
“Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord,
and do not remember iniquity forever.”
We are sorry, Lord God, please forgive us.
“After all this, will you restrain yourself, O Lord?
Will you keep silent, and punish us so severely?”
Speak to me. Speak to me God.
For this writer, I cannot think, having read ahead, that God ever answered. But out here, past the end of the book, somewhere in the midst of the story, we know that there was an answer. Although the author of this lament could not know it, God could not keep silent; he did answer. He sent his Son, to say, see me. See how the divine can meet in the flesh. Do these things, do them in my name, and in the doing, you will never be alone again.
I have been meditating on this by reading a little book by Barbara Brown Taylor called, When God is Silent. I haven't spoken to any one idea or illustration I got from this book. But the realization that Advent is the time to embrace the silence is the result of my understanding of the central question of this book; what does it means to speak authentically when God is silent more often than not in our lives? I just wanted to be sure to credit it somewhere along the way.
This is the time, in the cycle of the church year, in the life of our parish, and in our own lives, to stop, to sit, to wait, and to listen to the silence. Silent is not the same as alone. Silence is, in fact, the most essential element of any conversation. If someone is not listening, then all of our speech is for nothing.
Be in the silence this Advent. Even though it is hard, even though there are only 27 more shopping days until Christmas. Even though the rest of the world is making more noise than usual, we must give ourselves this time to be listen to the silence. Because if we don't hear the silence, we never have the chance to hear the answer.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Christ the King - Proper 29
Well, here we have it. If you ever had any doubts about what to do now that you are a Christian, this is it.
Feed the hungry. Quench the thirsty. House the stranger. Clothe the naked. Comfort the sick. Visit the prisoner.
I could go on about what it means to feed, clothe, house and comfort people, but you already know how to do those things. You already know what it means, and you already do some or all of these acts of mercy. So I am not going to give examples of how to do them. I am not going to advertise the organizations in the church that specialize in them. And I am not going to show how they were radical new statements of hospitality in the first century. Two thousand years later, after whole societies have been built on these rule of hospitality; these are still radical new statements about how to treat our fellow man.
But why frame this as an example of rewards and punishments? Wasn't it enough just to tell us how to be righteous? Why do we have to be so complicated, bringing in parables of kings and listing off not only the reward for action, but the punishment for inaction?
Why? Because people don't just need to know how; they need to know what to why, and they want to know what to expect as a result. Jesus spoke in parables not only so his listener could understand the concepts, he spoke this way so that even we would be able to find the meaning. So lets talk about how the framing of this list of good deeds gives us even more information about how to be followers of Christ.
Since we know how, what we really need to consider is why do we have to do anything at all? Paul is pretty clear in his letters that Jesus did all the work so to speak, and that in his death we are forgiven our sin, and thus relived of our guilt for failing to do God's will. So just why are we getting a list of work to do to be considered righteous by God?
Because for the writer of Matthew, Jesus is come for the Jews. And the Jews are a covenant people. In a covenant, both parties have responsibilities. The covenant relationship places emphasis on our free will, and it demands that we claim the responsibilities that we are given. In this passage, Jesus is laying out the new covenant. What God does for the people who do the right thing, and what God will not do for the people who do not hold up their part of the bargain.
So here we are, we know how to act to be good Christians, do this list of actions. We know why to do these things, because we are a covenant people with responsibilities. What is the result? What good comes from doing these things.
If we are about anything as Christians, it is about people, about relationships. So now that we know what to do, and why. Lets look at the people involved so that we can see the result.
Who are the people bound by this covenant? Who is Jesus talking to? It is always important when reading passages of Scripture to consider who is the audience. Who is being told to do these things? Jesus sometime addresses the crowds, sometimes his disciples and sometimes Pharisees and other Jewish leaders. Well, in this case, Jesus is talking to his disciples. So, it isn't just anyone that Jesus is addressing, but the core of his followers. The leadership that will be in place after he is gone. We are the inheritors of that leadership, and so this passage has special meaning for us about what to do.
In this parable, Jesus first gathers all the people of the world. Everyone. Don't forget about everyone. Because then he is going to separate our sheep and goats. The righteous from the unrighteous. Then he is going to describe their actions and their reward.
Jesus starts with the righteous. “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom,” he says, to people that follow his commands. When did we do that, they ask? And he tells them, “just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, my brethren, you did it to me.”
How many of you think, that because you are ever conscious of your duty to other Christians that you are righteous, that you are going to be rewarded with eternal life?
Remember, Jesus is talking to his disciples, and like any parent, even when he is making the grand statement, he is still talking about someone standing in the room. So when the king is separating those who act according to God's will from those who don't, he is sorting the disciples. In his story, the king tells the unrighteous goats, you never did anything for anyone, “you did not do it to one of the least of these,” and so you are banished to the outer darkness.
Now how many of you are thinking, hmm, maybe I ought to go talk to Prison Ministries, I just don't visit enough prisoners.
I am not going to do a big word study of the ancient Greek, but the thing to notice that when Jesus is listing off the benefits of being in accord with the covenant, he is talking about having done these deeds for his family, for other Christians.
But when he is listing off the sins of the unrighteous, he says, “one of the least of these.” The word here, in the Greek is not a family word, it is a general people word. Here he is talking about “all the nations,” the Christians, the Jews, and the Gentiles, and every other oppressor they have not yet encountered. He is saying, you aren't showing this extreme compassion to all people, and so you are not experiencing the glory of God.
When we started the story, we could feel so comfortable, knowing that with all this insider knowledge we would be considered righteous. We were so sure that all this covenant asked us to do was take care of our fellow Christians and God would take care of us.
Yes, this tells us what to do: the how of acting as Christians.
Yes, this tells us why to do it: because we are free agents in a covenant with God.
But in the middle of all this grand expression of good and evil; Jesus is teaching us what we can expect from keeping this covenant. Not only is he offering us direction about discipleship, but all we need to know about evangelism. Jesus is telling us how to make more Christians. If we do these things, we will bring more people to God, and we won't have to stand on street corners and yell, “Repent, for the end is near.” We won't have to offer video conferences about what it means to be episcopalian. We only have to do the things we are told, and those people will be so moved by our actions, that they will ask us what we are about.
If you feed the hungry, they will want to know why you are giving your food away.
If you offer your water to the thirsty, they will want to know why you are sharing.
If you give a stranger a place to sleep, they will wonder what is wrong with you.
If you give someone clothing, even unto the shirt off your back, people are going to want to know what you know that they don't.
If you care for the sick, they will want to know why you aren't afraid to catch their illness.
If you visit the prisoner, they will want to know why you are not afraid of them.
And they will ask.
The real question is, what will we say? What will we tell someone when they ask why we have stepped so far out of our own self interest? Will we say something about liberal politics? Will we say something about community service?
Or will we tell them, because someone once did this for me.
Even if you grew up in the Church, if you have not experienced the incomprehensible love of another person, offered in Christ's name, you will not stay in the Church. If you have not offered this love in Christ's name, you will not really be one. Oh, you may fill out forms saying you are a Christian of one sort or another, but you will not really be one.
You will really be a goat, and like the goats, you will not know the blessings of the kingdom, the kingdom prepared and waiting, since the beginning of the world. It is here, it is waiting, why are we?
Feed the hungry. Quench the thirsty. House the stranger. Clothe the naked. Comfort the sick. Visit the prisoner.
I could go on about what it means to feed, clothe, house and comfort people, but you already know how to do those things. You already know what it means, and you already do some or all of these acts of mercy. So I am not going to give examples of how to do them. I am not going to advertise the organizations in the church that specialize in them. And I am not going to show how they were radical new statements of hospitality in the first century. Two thousand years later, after whole societies have been built on these rule of hospitality; these are still radical new statements about how to treat our fellow man.
But why frame this as an example of rewards and punishments? Wasn't it enough just to tell us how to be righteous? Why do we have to be so complicated, bringing in parables of kings and listing off not only the reward for action, but the punishment for inaction?
Why? Because people don't just need to know how; they need to know what to why, and they want to know what to expect as a result. Jesus spoke in parables not only so his listener could understand the concepts, he spoke this way so that even we would be able to find the meaning. So lets talk about how the framing of this list of good deeds gives us even more information about how to be followers of Christ.
Since we know how, what we really need to consider is why do we have to do anything at all? Paul is pretty clear in his letters that Jesus did all the work so to speak, and that in his death we are forgiven our sin, and thus relived of our guilt for failing to do God's will. So just why are we getting a list of work to do to be considered righteous by God?
Because for the writer of Matthew, Jesus is come for the Jews. And the Jews are a covenant people. In a covenant, both parties have responsibilities. The covenant relationship places emphasis on our free will, and it demands that we claim the responsibilities that we are given. In this passage, Jesus is laying out the new covenant. What God does for the people who do the right thing, and what God will not do for the people who do not hold up their part of the bargain.
So here we are, we know how to act to be good Christians, do this list of actions. We know why to do these things, because we are a covenant people with responsibilities. What is the result? What good comes from doing these things.
If we are about anything as Christians, it is about people, about relationships. So now that we know what to do, and why. Lets look at the people involved so that we can see the result.
Who are the people bound by this covenant? Who is Jesus talking to? It is always important when reading passages of Scripture to consider who is the audience. Who is being told to do these things? Jesus sometime addresses the crowds, sometimes his disciples and sometimes Pharisees and other Jewish leaders. Well, in this case, Jesus is talking to his disciples. So, it isn't just anyone that Jesus is addressing, but the core of his followers. The leadership that will be in place after he is gone. We are the inheritors of that leadership, and so this passage has special meaning for us about what to do.
In this parable, Jesus first gathers all the people of the world. Everyone. Don't forget about everyone. Because then he is going to separate our sheep and goats. The righteous from the unrighteous. Then he is going to describe their actions and their reward.
Jesus starts with the righteous. “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom,” he says, to people that follow his commands. When did we do that, they ask? And he tells them, “just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, my brethren, you did it to me.”
How many of you think, that because you are ever conscious of your duty to other Christians that you are righteous, that you are going to be rewarded with eternal life?
Remember, Jesus is talking to his disciples, and like any parent, even when he is making the grand statement, he is still talking about someone standing in the room. So when the king is separating those who act according to God's will from those who don't, he is sorting the disciples. In his story, the king tells the unrighteous goats, you never did anything for anyone, “you did not do it to one of the least of these,” and so you are banished to the outer darkness.
Now how many of you are thinking, hmm, maybe I ought to go talk to Prison Ministries, I just don't visit enough prisoners.
I am not going to do a big word study of the ancient Greek, but the thing to notice that when Jesus is listing off the benefits of being in accord with the covenant, he is talking about having done these deeds for his family, for other Christians.
But when he is listing off the sins of the unrighteous, he says, “one of the least of these.” The word here, in the Greek is not a family word, it is a general people word. Here he is talking about “all the nations,” the Christians, the Jews, and the Gentiles, and every other oppressor they have not yet encountered. He is saying, you aren't showing this extreme compassion to all people, and so you are not experiencing the glory of God.
When we started the story, we could feel so comfortable, knowing that with all this insider knowledge we would be considered righteous. We were so sure that all this covenant asked us to do was take care of our fellow Christians and God would take care of us.
Yes, this tells us what to do: the how of acting as Christians.
Yes, this tells us why to do it: because we are free agents in a covenant with God.
But in the middle of all this grand expression of good and evil; Jesus is teaching us what we can expect from keeping this covenant. Not only is he offering us direction about discipleship, but all we need to know about evangelism. Jesus is telling us how to make more Christians. If we do these things, we will bring more people to God, and we won't have to stand on street corners and yell, “Repent, for the end is near.” We won't have to offer video conferences about what it means to be episcopalian. We only have to do the things we are told, and those people will be so moved by our actions, that they will ask us what we are about.
If you feed the hungry, they will want to know why you are giving your food away.
If you offer your water to the thirsty, they will want to know why you are sharing.
If you give a stranger a place to sleep, they will wonder what is wrong with you.
If you give someone clothing, even unto the shirt off your back, people are going to want to know what you know that they don't.
If you care for the sick, they will want to know why you aren't afraid to catch their illness.
If you visit the prisoner, they will want to know why you are not afraid of them.
And they will ask.
The real question is, what will we say? What will we tell someone when they ask why we have stepped so far out of our own self interest? Will we say something about liberal politics? Will we say something about community service?
Or will we tell them, because someone once did this for me.
Even if you grew up in the Church, if you have not experienced the incomprehensible love of another person, offered in Christ's name, you will not stay in the Church. If you have not offered this love in Christ's name, you will not really be one. Oh, you may fill out forms saying you are a Christian of one sort or another, but you will not really be one.
You will really be a goat, and like the goats, you will not know the blessings of the kingdom, the kingdom prepared and waiting, since the beginning of the world. It is here, it is waiting, why are we?
Sunday, November 6, 2005
Reinforcing Stereotypes
I really wish I had a picture of this, but I have to say..
One of our parishioners is of Middle Eastern descent, born there, speaks with an accent, the whole thing.
Today, I caught him out in the parking lot showing off his new pellet machine gun to all the kids. FYI, it was a full sized replica of an AK47, the weapon of insurrection in the Middle East.
I had to go tell him that he was scaring the neighbors and proving all their terrorist fantasies. He laughed, but he did put it away.
I wonder if it is because he hadn't thought about it, or if it was time for service?
Personally, I don't think any sort of gun, including the rubber band kind (I am an easy target) should be at church. It conflicts with the whole Prince of Peace message we are trying to share. But it is a sad thing that we have to worry about such things, even at church.
One of our parishioners is of Middle Eastern descent, born there, speaks with an accent, the whole thing.
Today, I caught him out in the parking lot showing off his new pellet machine gun to all the kids. FYI, it was a full sized replica of an AK47, the weapon of insurrection in the Middle East.
I had to go tell him that he was scaring the neighbors and proving all their terrorist fantasies. He laughed, but he did put it away.
I wonder if it is because he hadn't thought about it, or if it was time for service?
Personally, I don't think any sort of gun, including the rubber band kind (I am an easy target) should be at church. It conflicts with the whole Prince of Peace message we are trying to share. But it is a sad thing that we have to worry about such things, even at church.
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