Proper 8 B - July 1, 2012

Proper 8 B

July 1, 2012

From today’s psalm, we heard, “If you Lord, were to note what is amiss, who could stand?

Sometimes I think I know what’s amiss, and I am pretty good about deciding how to fix what’s amiss.  Would you believe that it mostly does not work out like I think it’s going to?  In fact, the world doesn’t need me to decide what is amiss, because normally, I don’t see everything, don’t know everything, and make bad decisions about the “right way” to resolve things.  

God doesn’t note what is amiss.  Rather God has a vision of the way things are supposed to be that doesn’t involve noting what is amiss. 

This morning, we heard some hard words from Paul that are contentious, and divisive.  He talks about “a fair balance”.  A fair balance between one person’s present abundance and another person’s need. Paul is talking to the people of Corinth, who lived in a socially and economically divided time, not unlike our time now. Some people had much. Others had little.  Paul is doing the verbal equivalent of shaking a person by the shoulders, to wake them up and make them understand that what God seeks.  God seeks a fair balance.   He urges the people of Corinth to take their faith, and put it into action.  From that place of faith and action, they are to offer gifts acceptable and according to what they had. He was asking them to use their abundance to create a life of equity for all. 

Tough stuff for the people of Corinth, and for us now. People who hear it often fall on one side or the other of the abundance/need continuum.  If you hear the story from a place of perceived abundance, it sounds like a personal criticism.  After all, we don’t live in a socialist state, and Robin Hood was over-rated.  Really just a criminal.  On the other hand, if we hear this from a place of need, we can be frustrated, angry, or defeated, living regularly with the impact from a world of imbalanced resources. 

Regardless of where you are when you hear this story, bringing up this idea of abundance and need is discomforting, and can make us feel bad. 

But there is a way to see this as comforting, and to feel bolstered by these words.  Paul’s letters may not be the best source for that sort of comfort, so we’ll turn to the Gospel.  The Gospel paints a great picture about abundance, need, and God not noting what is amiss. 

We hear about Jesus and two stories of healing, one interrupted by the other.  We first hear that Jesus has been petitioned by Juyrus the leader of a synagogue, who’s fallen at Jesus’ feet to beg him to come see his 12 year old daughter who’s near death.   On the way to heal her, with the throngs pushing in, a woman who’s been bleeding for 12 years struggles through the crowd to touch his robe.  Immediately, Jesus feels power leave him, and she is healed. He wonders who touched him, and the disciples dismiss the question, seemingly hurrying him along to attend to Jairus’ daughter. Besides, with the crowds, probably dozens of people touched him.  He heals the woman, and continues on to attend the daughter of Juyrus.  By the time Jesus arrives, the little girl’s family is distraught because they believe her to be dead. Jesus enters her room, and heals her. 

These are interesting stories, and given the context at the time, they are also symbolic of need and abundance.  The girl, Juyrus’ daughter, represents abundance.  She is the daughter of a synagogue leader.  She is entering child bearing years, and she has a man petitioning on her behalf.   In that time, those were much-desired traits.  Mark tells us that Jesus is petitioned by abundance, and he responds. 

In contrast, the other woman does not have much going for her.  She is ritualistically unclean because of her bleeding. In her times, this meant she was unfit to come in contact with other people, and unfit to worship God.  She has no male relative or friend to petition on her behalf and does not even have a name in the story.  Jesus is petitioned by a person of need.  Mark tells us that he diverts his attention from the girl of abundance, and heals the woman in need.  AND, after doing that, he continues on to heal Juyrus’ daughter.  Jesus cares, responds and heals all.  Those who come from abundance and those who come from need.  

And the lessons from this meaty story don’t end with what you can see on the outside.  There is also good news about abundance and need on the inside, the part you can’t see. In both healing stories, Jesus talks,  and what he says speaks volumes.  He tackles the issue of outward appearance, inward reality, abundance and need.   To the family and friends of Juyrus’ daughter, the girl of abundance, he says “Do not fear. Only believe.”  This family with apparent abundance is lacking belief, and filling the hole where belief should be is fear and doubt.  To this, Jesus provides reassuring words.  

How easy is it to slip into fear and doubt from a place of comfort and privilege.  We’re used to things going well.  We work hard.  We’re predisposed to this thinking, having been raised to know about “The American Dream”.    We’re so ruggedly independent.  Unfortunately, it’s easy from that place of confidence to lose belief, and slip into fear and doubt and spiritual need.  We become so self-reliant when things go well that when things don’t go well -  a loved one is sick, work is challenging, finances are impossible -  we don’t understand why.  We can’t fix things in our normally self-reliant way. We lose sight in the good times that we need, and we get out of practice asking for God’s help.  .  When it becomes apparent that we cannot do everything on our own, we’re out of the habit of asking of asking for help.  And where belief used to be, we’re filled with fear and doubt. 

 We need faith.    We need hope.    We need love.    We need God.  And often, we can’t even see it.

The other woman, the ritualistically unclean, nameless woman, hears a different message from Christ.  To her, Jesus says,  “Daughter, your faith has made you well.”  From that place of outwardly visible need, she has faith.  She has abundance. 

I’m not suggesting that every person, with apparent need is always spiritually richer than every person with apparent abundance. But I am consistently surprised by how often people I assume are on the “need” side of the equation are blessed with abundance. 

More interesting than the mix of abundance and need in each of these stories is the fact that one is visible, and easily judged by society. The other is not visible.  How easy it is to see someone and judge the whole person by the apparent abundance or need.  And how easy it is to be wrong.  

At the Saturday morning community breakfast, there are hundreds of people who come for hot meal, reportedly one of the best meals west of Denver. Invariably, one of the breakfast guests goes to the piano and serenades diners through breakfast.  I’ve heard jazz, honkey-tonk, and romantic classics played beautifully from grimy hands, and toothless smiles.   From a place of very apparent need, there is an internal abundance, abundance of talent, grace, and joy that is shared with the diners, and volunteers alike. 

Rarely can we accurately see the needs inside us.  We can’t possibly see the abundance or needs inside others. 

Paul says that your abundance should be shared for some one else’s need.  At some point, their abundance may be shared for your need.   Since we all are a hodge-podge mix of inward and outward abundances and need, I can get behind God’s vision for a fair balance.   Besides, Christ didn’t judge or respond differently to the people from apparent outward abundance, or inward abundance.  He treated, loved and healed all fairly.  Those with prestige.  With doubt.  With nothing.  With faith. 

Regardless of where you see yourself, what abundances or needs you have, we should all be striving for God’s vision of a fair balance.

If you agree that the world should be fair, if you aim to create a fair balance, be bolstered that you have the same vision as God.  Yes, the details can be messy – abundance and need can be challenging concepts.  But we have the opportunity to start from a common place, a common vision, God’s vision of a fair balance.  Our challenge and responsibility is to help make that vision a reality here. 

We need to acknowledge the abundances we have, visible and invisible.  We need to be very aware and honest about the needs we have, visible and invisible.   With others, we need to be grateful for their abundance, and be exceedingly cautious making assumptions about what their invisible needs or abundances are. 

Thankfully, God does not judge what is amiss.  God loves, heals and seeks a fair balance for all God’s people.  We should strive to do the same.

Trinity Sunday - Year B June 3, 2012

Today is Trinity Sunday, a day that really good theologians struggle to explain the mystery of the Trinity.  And I wouldn’t consider myself a rigorous theologian, so I’ll offer a simple analogy, and then move on. 

I am one person.  Yet I have separate names, roles, and relationships with people, based on how I know them.  My kids know me as mom.  And I have a unique relationship with my kids, unlike any other relationships I have with anyone else.  And they have a unique name for me.   Similarly, I have a unique relationship with my husband.  I don’t have the same relationship with anyone else.  Family friends, high school friends, college friends. I have different relationship with people in different places and times of my life.  I am the same person in all cases.  And yet, they each know a different, unique facet of me.  Of course, I bring all of me to every relationship, but all they see is what we share at that time.  They don’t see or experience all of me; they don’t know them beyond what they know now.  

So that’s my simplistic explanation of the Trinity.  I am one person, and yet I have different names and characteristics and strengths at different times, to different people in my life.

Rather than stumble through any further simple explanations of the Trinity, I can, as the collect says, “acknowledge the glory of the Trinity, while worshiping the unity of one God”.   Holy, holy, holy.   The Trinity is a mystery that I don’t really understand, and can’t explain.  And if I did explain it, or could understand it, it would cease to be a mystery.  

Instead, I want to focus on what the Trinity means to us, here and now. 

For me, I interact with, pray to and petition the different persons of the Trinity differently.   Sometimes I petition God the maker, all powerful, all knowing, all protecting, because sometimes I need an immense, incomprehensible God, to be bigger than me and my troubles.   Other times, I seek solace in God the son, who understands my human emotions.  God the son loves us and shows us how to love, despite having seen ugliest side of humanity.  Still other times, I praise God the spirit, that wind that blows where it will. 

While it is one God, I perceive and petition the three persons of the Trinity distinctly, and am grateful for these different faces of God.  I don’t understand it, but I acknowledge the glory of the Trinity.

What I really find fascinating, however, is how the different persons of the Trinity interact with humanity.  The reading from Isaiah paints an awe-fulled image of God the creator’s  interaction with humanity.  God is sitting on the throne, surround by seraphim, six-winged celestial bodies. To purify Isaiah, a seraph takes a hot coal and places it on Isaiah’s lips.  After this unpleasantness, God asks, “whom shall I send?” and Isaiah, despite this scene, responds, “Here I am, send me”. 

What a simple and perfect response, when called by God.  “Here I am. Send me.” 

Meanwhile, Nicodemus, was called by God the son.   As a leader of the Jews, Nicodemus could have steered clear of Jesus, the trouble-making Jew, who was defying the status quo, defying Nicodemus’ status quo.  Instead, coming in the darkness, he came to talk to Jesus, to question him, to understand and learn from him.  He responded to Christ’s call, becoming more involved in Christ’s life, because later, he returns to Christ’s  story and assists in preparing his body for burial.

God the spirit also calls and leads God’s people.  When we are led by the spirit of God, we are children of God. 

How does God in all God’s glory -  God the creator, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit call you?  And what’s your response?   Do you recognize the call?  If you do, how do you respond? 

I’ll tell you a little about how I’ve most vividly interacted with God.  About 8 years ago, I was in Seattle, and had a “ theophany “, an experience of God that I could see and hear and feel.    I never have before, and I haven’t since.  And I’m enough of a logical analytical person, or at least that’s how I had been, that this was a very odd experience indeed.  I came home from this event, and shared it with my husband.  He admitted that if he didn’t know me, he would have thought I was a little loopy. What had happened is that  I had seen something in the midst of church.  I can’t describe it very well because my words fail me, but I remember it vividly and can see it clearly.  I share this with you, not because I want you to think I’m loopy too.   Rather, I share this because of what happened after, about how easy it would be to miss God’s call, even a bold one like this. 

My parish priest at the time explained that what I’d experienced was absolutely real, and was only between God and me.  No one else saw it.  He went on to say that I had some options about what to do with this.  Option one was to archive the experience in the great vault of life experiences, and be amazed at what happened.  The other option, he explained, was to ponder and pray about what this meant.  Things like this, he explained, don’t happen on accident.  My assignment, should I choose to accept it, was to be curious and prayerful enough to figure out why then, why there, why me.

I, of course, would have much preferred if he had just explained it to me.  It would have been easier too.  Instead, I pondered and sat with this.  I had no idea what it meant, but was curious, and felt I couldn’t waste this opportunity, to simply archive the experience, and chalk it up to an amazing weird thing. 

During this time, I felt like the little bird in the children’s book, “Are you my mother?”  In the book, the bird approaches everyone and everything, asking “are you my mother?”    In the same way, I was exploring and considering everything.  Was this why?  Is this the reason?  

While in that unsettled “Are you my mother” phase, I had the opportunity to accompany my son through confirmation classes, while I renewed my baptismal covenant.  I was looking for answers anywhere, and this was one of many places I searched. 

In those classes, my priest was explaining the difference in the calling of bishops, priests and deacons, explaining that “deacons comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”   Hmmm.  I can do that.  I do do that.   Before that moment, I had never thought about being ordained, nor given much thought to what I do.   But over the next several weeks, I began to discern a call to be ordained as a deacon, not because I needed to do something different, but because I was already doing the work of a deacon.  When I confessed my inkling of a call to my parish priest, he smiled, and asked why it took me so long to respond to that call that he’d recognized for some time.  This made me very nervous, and comforted. 

God, through the Holy Spirit called me, in a rather unclear, confusing way.  Ultimately, with persistence, prayer and encouragement, I pursued the path that brought me here. 

I most frequently experience God’s call through the person of God the son.  The artist Stephen Curtis Chapman has a song that talks about seeing the face of Jesus in orphans across the world, or in the homeless mother.  Hearing Jesus whisper, “Didn’t you say you wanted to find me? Here I am. Here you are.  It goes on to ask, What now?  What will you do, now that you found me.  I know I may not look like what you expected, but if you remember, this is right where I said I would be. And you found me.  What now?

Has God the son called you?  Have you had an experience with another person, where you know something special was happening?  Maybe it’s a person of incredible peace and beautiful holiness, and you knew there was something special but you couldn’t explain it.  Maybe it was someone in need. 

So how are you called?  Do you recognize the calling of the Trinity, in all its mysteriousness? 

Have you had an experience you can’t explain?  Makes no sense? Have you had your own Theophany? 

Why then? Why there?  If it was last week, or last decade, think about it.  What was God the spirit trying to tell you? 

Where is God leading you?  What are you supposed to do in response?

On this blessed and awesome Trinity Sunday, give some thought to how God the creator, God the Holy Spirit or God the son has called you and calls you still.  Pray, and think about it, so that you can hear the question we are each posed day after day.  And steel yourself, so you are ready to respond.

“Whom shall I send?”

“Here I am.  Send me!”

Amen.