Sunday, February 19, 2006

Forgiveness Starts with Us

Mark 2:1-12

Welcome back to Capurnaum. A couple of Sundays ago, we explored what it meant to be a family during Jesus' first pass through town, when he cured Simon's mother in law. Some time has passed, for us and for our story, and now Jesus is back. People have had some time to share the news and to gather for a new round of teachings and miracles. There are so many people gathered around that it is hard to get near him at all.

In fact, they are starting to take the house apart. Literally. Houses in Galilee were, and are, made of sparse wood frames with mud plaster. Roofs are flat; there is a staircase outside the house leading to the roof and there is a small hole to let smoke rise. It is reasonable to assume that there were people trying to listen to Jesus' teachings from the roof but this group of people are actually busting up mud above Jesus' head in order to get to him.

Why in the world were they doing that? This is a time when illness is the direct and God given punishment for sin. Everyone might not know what you did, but the sicker you were, the more wicked you were. We know from the story of Job that if things got bad enough for you, even your friends would leave. Imagine the amount of love these friends had for this man that they would carry him on a pallet from wherever, haul him up a roof, and dig through the roof to lower him down. That is a lot of effort, that is a lot of faith, for a person that most everyone present would assume was just some bad guy.

This is one of those places where the editing is slim. Just imagine trying to talk, let alone heal someone with dirt clods landing on your head. If I didn't have to clean it up, it would be interesting to throw a dirt clod here. And then there is Simon, one wonders how he feels about having to replace the roof.

So after all that dirt, here comes a man, inert, on a bedroll, into the center of the room. Show stopper. And Jesus says, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” It wasn't the faith of the paralytic that got him cured. This is important. He didn't do anything except lie there. It was the faith of his friends that Jesus rewarded. And that reward wasn't actually a healing. The miracle was forgiveness.

We don't have to imagine what the scribes are thinking. We are told. Blasphemer. Jesus is saying things like, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Scribes had a pretty powerful stake in who forgave sins and how you went about getting such forgiveness. Healing people, that is one thing, but forgiving sin, that was for God alone, through their mediation of course. Jesus is threatening their livelihood.

I like to think it was the dirt shower that finally set Jesus off. He finally turned to those scribes and said, What's wrong with you? You act like it is easier to cure paralysis than to forgive a mistake.

They did think that. And they thought curing paralysis was impossible. They thought only God had the authority to pronounce forgiveness. It might well be the case. But Jesus is bringing a new kingdom. He is carrying a new authority. Only God has the power to forgive. True. But Jesus has the authority to pronounce God's forgiveness. Jesus called on his authority as the Son of Man, not the Son of God, to forgive the sins of the paralytic man, and to drive that point home, then he told the man to get up and walk. And he did.

This story tells us two very important things. One, it shows us that we are to work on behalf of others, not ourselves. The miracles of faith are not granted for ourselves, they are granted on our behalf for others. Two, it shows us a different and difficult authorship of forgiveness.

Jesus uses his authority as Son of Man to offer forgiveness. In doing so, he is claiming an authority that can be claimed by all of us. We are being shown a new way by Jesus. We are being shown a way beyond what the scribes knew to be a truth about God to a larger, more magnificent vision of who God is and how he relates to us. Jesus, by his crucifixion and resurrection, shows us that God will do anything for us, if we only ask. And not for ourselves are we to ask, but for others. In asking for help for others, we are offering God's forgiveness to each other.

Genuine, God inspired forgiveness involves changes by both parties. We must step outside our own desires and opinions and see the other. Offender and offended must acknowledge their culpabilities. Both must carry the other to a new paradigm. True forgiveness is a process of community. Jesus came to show us how to care for each other, to step outside our fears and most especially to care for the prisoner and the widow, the sick and all the disenfranchised. They are always a part of community and they are always worthy of forgiveness.

What is difficult for us, is what is difficult for the scribes. We think we have a direct line to God, that we can always, accurately discern the will of God. So if we are offended, someone must have sinned. If we are offended, so is God. But sin is being out of line with God himself, not with any one interpretation or opinion of what God wants. We must admit that we cannot discern the will of God for all people, in all circumstances, for all time.

One of the great things about Anglicanism is that we are generally more concerned with our corporate worship than with interpreting individual sins. We have a rich history of the three legged stool; scripture, tradition and reason. These are as varied as we are, shaped by our language, our culture and geography and our incarnation in time. If there is a place where we can honor difference and build community. If there is a place where genuine God-inspired life changing forgiveness can occur. Where world changing forgiveness can occur, I am sure that this is the place.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Family and Church

A reflection on Mark 1:29-39

What is Church? I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and as it turns out, today's Gospel has something to say about it. But before we get there, I want to make sure we are all up to speed with some vocabulary, and the basic idea of church. When we talk about church, we are often talking about a building. The building, in the common culture, is called a church, and the people associated with it are called the Christians. We, as Christians, often make this same mistake. But church is really “the body of Christ” and that “body” is made up of people. So 'church' equals 'body of Christ' equals 'people'. Another, important assumption that I want to bring to our attention is that we, and the common culture, assume that church supports nuclear, biological families. So 'church' equals 'body of Christ' equals 'people' equals 'families.'

Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum. This is Simon's home town, so they crash at his house. This is normal behavior. Then, as now, you are going to offend your mother if you don't stop by and say hello when you come through town. Simon's mother-in-law is sick, so Jesus heals her. Of course, then he fills the house up until all hours of the night with sick and crazy people and heals them, too. Simon's mother-in-law is probably OK with that. The next day Jesus decides that his work is done in this place and he and his disciples head out to spread the message of the kingdom of God to the rest of Galilee.

In most ways, people have not changed. But life was not the same in Israel then as it is in America today. Our obligation to our mothers-in-law, for instance, is not as well defined as it was for Simon. The fact that his mother-in-law lived in his house meant that there was no one else to take responsibility for her. And she couldn't get a job. Women couldn't support themselves respectfully. Simon had a responsibility to take care of his mother-in-law. And if his in-law was living there, who lived with her? Did he have other family? In order to keep our assumptions intact, we have to infer a lot of extraordinary circumstances. For instance, that this was Simon's fathers house, or that he and Andrew had an older brother who was willing to take care of Simon's mother-in-law for him while he wandered the countryside. We have to assume that Simon had been married to the only child of this woman, but that his wife had died and he had no children. Otherwise, Simon didn't just visit his mother-in-law, he visited his wife and children. For the same reason, we have to assume that Andrew was not married.

We have to assume a lot to make this story palatable. We don't want to think about the fact that Simon dumped his mother-in-law off and did not take responsibility for her. We may not even be as offended as we ought, because we do care provide specialized care for our elderly. But Simon did not have that option. Do we really think he was taking care of her by following Jesus? How was she being supported? Let's not even consider that he had other dependents.

Following Jesus does not make you a good provider. Jesus doesn't say that it will, and he doesn't much care about it. Jesus is a big picture guy. His goal is not to affirm the status quo, which then and now, is to keep people busy providing for their household, their blood families and other dependents. His goal is to change our idea of providing from an inwardly focused fear to an outwardly focused action. What Jesus has to say about families is that following him is going to set people against each other. For example, see Matthew 10:34-39. The thrust of this sword is that following Christ's call is going to set mothers against daughters against fathers against sons. If asked what to do for your family, Jesus would say, “Follow me.” When church becomes important, people who are not church feel left out. It is not that they are unimportant, but they are trapped in a selfish world-view that reinforces their fear.

Stepping out of fear is is the experience of the Gospel, and this is the life changing wonder of the Gospel. We can all partake. There is enough. Every day is the miracle of the loaves and fishes. Not because God is every day altering the rules of physics, but because every day, people are taking the opportunity to stop looking inward and start looking outward. Every day people are in little ways changing their perspective from scarcity to abundance. From mine to ours. From family to community. 'People' equal 'body of Christ' equal 'church'. It is when family become people, and people become family, that 'family' also equals 'church'. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your might. And love your neighbor as yourselves. It is in trusting God, in trusting in His Abundance that we are able to love our neighbors as ourselves. It is in the body of Christ that our neighbors become ourselves.

Simon left his mother-in-law, and maybe even his family, to follow Jesus. If his family is anything like mine, I can imagine what his parents had to say about that. But Simon saw the better way, and he knew that he needed to do everything he could personally do to bring about that change of perspective. When we have truly embraced the Gospel, there is nothing else we can do. We must share. And when we live the Good News, others benefit, others see, others feel. It isn't enough to live in a circle of comfort, caring only for each other, we must be ready to go into the neighboring towns, even when that is just across the street. We must be ready to follow Jesus.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Another Not So Adventurous Example of Missing the Point

I don't like Steve Duin's picture. I don't usually hold such random things against people, but he made me really angry today. Why did I get so upset about it? For one, I spent all of Monday in a meeting, a great deal of which centered of if we ought to offer our church for the Transitional School. More precisely, the meeting was about how to optimize the resources we have for all stakeholders. Which is a fancy way of saying even people who don't use the building for Ukelele practice matter. Neighbors and preschools and Anonymous groups all have a stake in the availability of the sort of public space that a church has.

This is what Steve (whose Oregonian bio mostly talks about co-editing books and his comic book collection) had to say. Paraphrased a bit.

“It takes a special church to bring a New Testament parable to life in this day and age. Last week, St. Stephen Catholic Church and the Archdiocese of Portland pulled that off in style, terminating a five-year lease with the Community Transitional School in a terse one-paragraph letter.”
“The decision calls to mind a story Jesus tells in Matthew 18, the parable of the unmerciful servant. I'll get to that take on the nature of justice and forgiveness in a moment, but first let me get you back up to speed on the Transitional School.”
The Transitional School, is described. It is a school for homeless and transient children.
A bash on the church and its priorities. It seems to center on the question, What kind of church can no longer afford to maintain the building for multiple users, but can allow one to maintain and administer the whole thing for them? Also noted, the School's lease had expired.
Here follows a literal transcription of Matthew 18.
“Thus, even as the archdiocese and its parishes plead poverty, beg for sympathy and mercy, and file for bankruptcy in the priest abuse scandal, St. Stephen takes an utterly businesslike -- and cutthroat -- approach to a school for homeless kids. “
“Justice and mercy, take note. The school will survive. I have less faith in the future of the church.”
The full article is listed below. You will likely have to search for Tues Jan 31, 2006.http://www.oregonlive.com/news/oregonian/steve_duin/

And I got upset enough I sent a letter to the editor. As you can likely tell, the more I write the harder it is for me to edit and I had to get this down to 150 words. I hope my name didn't count.

This is what I wrote:
In response to Steve Duin's commentary on Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Church is not about buildings, it is about people. However, churches own the last public space that can house low- and non-profit ventures. Because of this, Christians have diverted resources from people towards buildings and allowed spiritual leaders to be untrained and underpaid property managers.

As a society, we have all been content to let churches provide and maintain this public space. In the glut of mixed-use infill, we provide for low-income housing. But there are many things, including the Transitional School, that need space as well. For 30 years, we have utilized facilities left by the building boom of the 1950's. It is not the shame of churches that they can no longer maintain these buildings. It is societal shame that our land use policies place no value on space for preschools, soup kitchens and community theater.

Heather Lee
St. David of Wales Episcopal Church
Portland, OR

Quick, What do you look like?

In a discussion, ongoing, at my house, my husband asked me why there weren't any books about what it looks like to be a Christian. If someone comes to you and says, why do you go to church? we are all hard pressed to answer them. Any books you do find that might answer someone's question either don't talk about actual people(like I am an actual person, not a saint) or don't make any sense if you haven't already drunk the koolaid. As the thinker, and the writer, in the family, I have been charged with finding this out.

The easiest answer is that we are not speaking to people in their own language. We have worked out so long ago what “Lamb of God” really means that we have forgotten the seven years of wrestling that got us here. Furthermore, so much of the history of Western Civilization has happened in conjuncture with The Church that many of our images are part of the public domain. They have life outside of us that must be taken into account when we are using them for the gospel.

The harder answer is that we are mired in the habit of our Christianity. Habits allow us to get things done without having to revisit the fundamentals every time we want to get something done, be it shoe tying or Christian living. When someone asks, “Heather, why are you a Christian?” I am being asked how I answer the question of relevance. Habit has allowed us to do great things for Christianity, but it has not answered the actual question: What does a Christian look like? Why is Church/God/Christianity relevant? What does a miracle look like?

We cannot address the miracle because we are not staring it full in the face. It is like trying to draw your own face from memory. When you compare the picture to the image in the mirror, you find all the ways you have changed when you were busy looking out, not in. What does a Christian look like? What is the miracle? Why is the institution relevant? They all have the same answer. A Christian is someone looking outside themselves. The miracle of Christianity is that it keeps us looking outside ourselves. The institution is the keeper of community looking out.

Have you looked in your mirror lately?

Friday, January 27, 2006

Love is the Measure of Leadership

2000 pages in my bible and this is the second time that Dr. Belt has used this piece of scripture in our class. Either he thinks we don't like him very much or it's just his favorite passage. Indeed, this is one of the classic passages of the bible. There are two times that we encounter this soliloquy on love in the Episcopal lectionary. We remember that it is a selected reading for weddings. But we also see this in the regular cycle of the lectionary on the last Sunday after Epiphany in Year C. I prefer this lectionary reading, because it starts in Chapter 12 and thus retains some of its context. Because if you just start at the beginning of Chapter 13 you think that this is a recitation on how wonderful love is, but it isn't. Before we can break open this chapter, we need to back up a bit and find out something about the Corinthians so we can begin to understand why Paul is giving us this warm squishy love talk.

The Christian community in Corinth received this letter around 54 AD. They were rich and poor, they were free and slave, they were home to a group of people who felt disenfranchised by the larger community. They formed cliques of like-minded persons and based worthiness on indicators of wealth, both physical and spiritual. Furthermore, they used those indicators to determine leaders and judge possible converts. In short – they were just like us.

All communities of Christians place preference on some selection of Christian values and gifts. These preferences encourage those so gifted to be called as leaders. None of us have ever found a way to balance all of the benefits and moral imperatives of the Christian ethic. This is because we all come to Christ from somewhere else. Now, the Corinthians placed their highest good on gifts of the Spirit. If we look back to verse 8 in Chapter 12, there is a list of the gifts of the Spirit. This is not a list to inform the Corinthians what these gifts were, they already knew. Paul is enumerating the gifts that the Corinthians are emphasizing to the detriment of other things.

This list includes:
wise speech,
knowledgeable speech,
faith,
healings,
miracles,
prophecy,
discernment of spirits
and the speaking and interpreting of tongues.
These are all wonderful, indeed miraculous things. We look at people who have been gifted with these things, and if our cynicism allows, we imagine them more holy, more blessed than ourselves. All Christian communities value these things. All Christian communities use these and other gifts to determine who are our leaders and shepherds of the faith. We are all Corinthians in this instance.

After all, we have to determine leaders and followers and sincerity of purpose somehow, don't we? Of course we do. “And I will show you a still more excellent way,” says Paul at the end of Chapter 12. Does Paul say that we should discredit gifts of the Spirit? No. But he says they are in themselves, worthless. The only thing that makes the gifts of the Spirit, indeed any gift of Spirit or position in the body of the church, is love. Every other thing, every prophecy, every tongue, all knowledge, will become obsolete. Every other thing will change over the course of time. The Corinthians, like us, had a cultural context. Like us, that context held that rich people controlled politics and the means of production. They thought that the music of the day was vain, that children were disrespectful and people were having too much sex. The Corinthians put themselves forward in the community of believers as a group especially blessed in tongues, prophecy and knowledge. Today, we do not read the letters of the Corinthians to Paul. We read Paul's letter taking them to task for not loving each other.

And he doesn't stop there. He does not simply reiterate, Jesus said, Love your neighbor as yourself. He offers up a whole list. Have you ever noticed how much of this list is presented in the negative? That is because Paul is not creating verses for embroidery, he is accusing the Corinthians of engaging in all these behaviors. First Corinthians is a long letter and in the first 12 chapters of it Paul has gone over all the offenses the Corinthians have been engaging in. They have been envious of each other, they have been boasting and resentful and they have celebrated their wrongdoings. The Corinthians are not loving each other. Paul is pissed off and it is we who need to be afraid. Because we are just like the Corinthians. We engage in these behaviors all the time. We are not loving each other.

These are the ten commandments of love:
Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude
It does not insist on its own way
It is not irritable or resentful
It does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in truth
It bears all things
Believes all things
Hopes all things
Endures all things.

This is the list. The basic requirements of healthy, Christian relationships. And while they seem self evident here in the pews, they are not the rules of our common culture, any more than they were the rules of the Roman Empire. When Paul tells us that we are called to be something completely different in Christ, this is exactly what he is talking about. Love.

That is all well in good for our peer to peer interactions. Of course, we should be loving each other, and of course we fail and we keep at it. But how average Christians treat each other is not enough for leaders of the community. Of them, surely we need a more stringent requirement.

Why not faith? That seems a reasonable test of worthiness. After all, faith is what saves us. But how do you test for faith? Paul raises up hope as well. Could we test for leaders by measuring hope? I don't see how. Hope and faith are personal measures of our Christianity. Only God can measure the depth of our hope or the width of our faith. It is love that is the measure of our community. It is our love that others experience, it is love that sets us apart. Not love to the exclusion of outsiders, but love that obliterates the line between inside and outside. This love is our mission. Love your God with all your heart and soul and mind and love your neighbor as yourself.

Therefore, our leaders ought to exemplify love before all other gifts of the Spirit or talents in the other offices of the church. When we consider ecumenical leaders such as Pat Robertson, we are put off by the use of technology, the physical distance and one-sidedness of televangelism, but we are disappointed, ultimately, by the lack of love displayed by him and by others. I will not say that televangelism or even Internet churches do not have a place, but it is a fact that we care most about people we must look in the eye.

We are called to be something different in the world. We are called to put away childish things. If we want to build the kingdom of heaven, if we want to realize that which we have been promised, we must stop acting like children. Children are very concerned with replicating the common culture and nailing down the temporal. Children are involved in community building only in so much as creating a place for themselves. Children love what they get, the do not understand what they give. The Corinthians were a bunch of children playing at church.

When we are called to bring forth new leaders in the church, do we bring forth leaders who exemplify love in all they do? Or do we look for those blessed with the gifts of money management and charisma? How can we bring our friends and neighbors and co-workers to church, our individual church and the Church writ large, when we engage the world in ways no different than politicians and businessmen? We must love each other, and we must bring up leaders in the church who will guide the way.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Taking Myself Seriously

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.

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.