Sunday, October 14, 2012

Proper 23B



Proper 23B
October 14, 2012

I had a friend whose little girl was very sweet, but her manners were not.  Long past the time when parents stop prompting their kids to say “please”, the little girl would frequently miss the chance to say please or thank you.  Her mom talked to her about being considerate, and how ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ were both polite, and conveyed to the other person you were trying to be considerate.  The little girl got better.  But one afternoon, the little girl, with markers in hand, damage already done,  and a twinkle in her eye, looked at her mom, and said, “Mom, can I draw on the tablecloth?  Please?” 

At that moment, the mom felt like she’d won the battle, but might be losing the war.  Her daughter knew the rule, but entirely missed the reason. 

Her story reminds me of the wealthy man in the Gospel today.  

This man comes to Jesus, asking what I’m guessing he hopes is a rhetorical question.  What do I need to inherit eternal life?  He’s hoping, if not secretly certain, that he knows the answer.  Jesus quizzes him on law.  Honor your mother and father.  Check.  Don’t steal or commit adultery. Check.  Don’t bear false witness.  Check.  Check. Check.  I’m imagining the wealthy man is so happy that this was Jesus’ line of questioning – following the law.  He was good.    Check. Check. Check.   

Jesus tests him.  He responds, thinking he’s passed the test with flying colors.  Waiting for the accolades and affirmations from Jesus, he is startled by Jesus’ response.  And the response from Jesus startles us still.  You lack one thing.   Go sell what you own, and give the money to the poor.   What?

The man has been following the law, doing what he ought to do.  This must certainly feel like an instance of bait and switch.  Nowhere did it say anything about selling everything and giving the money to the poor.  Or did it?

We’ve all heard about the two great commandments.  Jesus explains that all the Jewish laws could be summarized these two great commandments.  First, love your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind.   The second, love your neighbor as yourself.   In the Decalogue or the 10 commandments, the love your God commandments are all at the beginning.  Keep the Sabbath.  Don’t worship idols or say God’s name in vain.  After those, come the love your neighbor commandments.   Honor your mother and father.  Don’t murder.  Don’t covet. 

Maybe it’s coincidence, but in today’s Gospel, talking to this wealthy man, Jesus mentions only those portions of the law that can be summed up with “love your neighbor as yourself”   Jesus pointedly asks the wealthy man if he’s been keeping the laws that are our charge to show our love for our neighbor.  And the wealthy man believes that he has. He’s kept the law.   Done it all.   But Jesus still says he’s lacking one thing. 

This is exactly why he reminds me of my friend’s daughter.  He follows the laws, but has missed the fundamental principle that the rules are trying to point to. 

To be described as a wealthy man, we know that on a socio-economic scale of his time, this man was up here.  To be up here, means that there are some who are a little lower, some lower still and some all the way down here.  Regardless of the rules he has followed, how much good he has done, how much of his wealth he has given away, he has retained more.  He followed the rules.  Maybe he loved his neighbor.  But did not love his neighbor as himself. 

But God always leaves room for redemption, and so the story continues. 

It continues with an opportunity for the wealthy man to inherit eternal life, which is, afterall what he came to Jesus seeking.  And Jesus shares this really difficult message in a beautiful, tender way.    

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said.. 

What a great way to share hard news, huh?  Looking at someone, loving them, and saying..  If we could all remember the “loving them” part, when we’re talking with others, how much nicer all our interactions would be.
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Jesus sees that the man has followed the law, but up until now, the man has missed the point.  He has not loved his neighbor as himself.  So looking at him, loving him, Jesus gives him another chance to act – to love his neighbor as himself.  He asks him to sell his belongings and give the money to the poor. 

Jesus has shared with that man exactly what he needs to do.  The man’s response?  He is shocked at Jesus’ pronouncement.  Shocked and grieved.   And he walks away.   Despite having lived a life of following the law, still seeking eternal life, asking all the right questions of all the right people, he chooses to walk away.  

Interestingly, this is the only healing story in the Gospel of Mark that is unsuccessful.  Jesus meets people who are blind, who have apparently died, people who are possessed by demons.  Jesus heals and restores them all.  The wealthy man does not leave healed or restored.  Rather, he walks away grieved and shocked.  This failure isn’t because of Jesus.  The man walks away.

This man may not be possessed by demons, although demons may have been easier to fix.  This man is possessed by something so powerful he gives up.  He walks away, after a law-filled life.  He is possessed by possessions. 

Even back then, thousands of years ago, our stuff got in the way.  Just like it does today. 

And the most ironic thing about stuff is that it is all a gift from God.  The man in the story had wealth.  We don’t know if he worked hard and saved, or inherited his wealth.  But in any case, it is because of God’s grace that he had wealth.    And in return for providing the wealth, Jesus asks him to love his neighbor as himself.  To use his wealth to help level the playing field.  

We all have wealth, although it’s not all financial.  Some have a wealth of talent, or time, or compassion.  Some have a wealth of resources.  If we have “more”, than obviously someone has less.  We cannot honestly say that we love our neighbor as ourself, if we don’t continually try to level those imbalances.  Provide for those who have less from our wealth. 

It is so easy to get trapped, or possessed by our possessions.   In 1950, the average home size was 1000 square feet.   Just fifty years later, our homes had doubled in size to 2000 square feet.  At the same time, family size decreased.  We have more space for smaller families.  Nationally some call this an epidemic, this being possessed by our possessions.  They’ve coined a term, “Affluenza”, and can cite health, social economic problems caused by our need for working to make money to acquire, maintain, insure and store our stuff. 

Lots of people are nervous about this passage, and go between feeling guilty  about wealth, to being angry about feeling guilty about wealth.    But like the man in the story, he’s given a chance.  We’re given a chance again, and again and again.   Having wealth is not the problem.  Wealth, like everything we have, is a gift from God.  We are stewards of God’s gifts here and now.  So now we’re like the man who’s tried to follow the law, has wealth, and asks Jesus what he needs to do. 

Love your neighbor as yourself.  Right now, next time you have the opportunity to volunteer, at tonight’s dinner, you have a choice.  

Don’t feel guilty or angry about wealth.  It’s a gift from God.  The problem is not the wealth itself.  The problems arise in the choices we make when we steward those gifts, steward that wealth.  When we prioritize our wealth and our belongings before God and before our neighbor.   

While here, we are stewards of God’s gracious gifts – the time, and talent and wealth we have.  Our challenge is to hear and see Christ clearly telling us what we need to do to have eternal life.  Our challenge is to choose life.    Our challenge is to choose not to walk away.

Regardless of who you are and what gifts you’ve received, whether that’s money, or talent, or time, or compassion, in order to have eternal life, we need to use what we have here and now to help bring Christ’s  kingdom here and now.  To love our neighbors as ourself.  Our job is to take the gifts and abundance we have, and help make that happen.  Here and now.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Proper 17 B September 2, 2012

Proper 17 B
September 2, 2012
  
Imagine the scene.   It’s 5:00. You’re coming home from work, and stopping at the store.   Dinner’s waiting for this last cup of milk you need to get.  And there’s a meeting at your kid’s school you need to get to, at 7:00.  The parking lot is packed.  You troll for a spot.  You see one at the end of the row you’re in.  You turn your blinker on, and proceed to the spot.  You’re waiting at the spot.  The driver leaves, you start to pull in.  Just at that moment, another car zips around the corner and takes your spot.    But road rage is real.  A Baltimore man was killed over a parking lot space altercation.   This year, a Junction City man was shot, because of a road rage incident.

Maybe this makes your blood boil.  Maybe this doesn’t bother you at all.   It’s the same event from the outside, and yet, some of us respond with rage, while others are unaffected.    I think this is a great example of what Jesus is talking about in today’s Gospel, after he performs a verbal martial arts move on the Pharisees.

The Pharisees  are again complaining to Jesus about how his disciples don’t follow the law.  They don’t do what’s “right”, because they haven’t washed their hands before eating.  Instead of refuting the claim, or arguing about the merits of the law, Jesus uses the law quoting Isaiah, to prove his point. The rules aren’t the point.  The rules are e a way to 1)practice good food handling,  and 2) show obedience to God.  When the rules or practices intended to move us closer to God instead obscure their purpose and become the purpose, those rules are useless, and worse have become false idols.  Jesus gently redirects them to the real point of the rules – honoring God, not following rules. 

After this exchange, he explains that it’s not what comes from outside the body that defiles, but rather what is in the body that creates            evil intention.  Nothing outside a person can defile.  Not the dirty hands.  Not the inconsiderate driver.  Rather,  it’s the things inside our hearts that can defile.  Our responses.  It’s how we respond to our world around us, it’s what we control that can defile.  Not the things external.    If it were external, like the other driver, or a politician, or not following  rule – like not washing your hands, that might be easier.  It might feel like we were simply the victims of our circumstances.   We had no choice in our response, because we were aggrieved or defiled from someone else.  This is exactly what many aggressors think and how they defend their actions, from the school yard bully, to the road rage aggressor, to the family abuser, to the hateful mass murderers.  People feel defiled or aggrieved from somewhere else, or someone else, and they believe that they have no choice, they had to respond to this thing that happened TO them.    

Listening to the news and the excuses of people who abuse, steal, kill, it sounds absurd.  What do you mean you had to kill,  or hate, or hurt?   For most of us, a response of theft, abuse or murder in response to something that happened TO us is clearly, utterly and apparently wrong.  It’s wrong to respond to anything with that sort of response.  It’s easy to see in those people that it’s their response that is defiling, not the original offense.  Convenient, isn’t it, that Christ clears up how others are supposed to act, while we are pretty unscathed? 

But wait a minute.  Christ’s list of defiling responses is long.   What about envy?   Pride.   Folly.  Or my personal favorite, avarice,  which is rampant in this culture.  Avarice is a desire for wealth or gain.   Those I can imagine; those I can do.  I guess this isn’t just about those other folks.   

So while we’re not likely to respond with murder or theft, the issue remains the same.  It’s not original external action that defiles.  It’s our response -our envious and prideful response that defiles us.    Sometimes we are incited to respond with one of those ugly defiling responses, and it does feel like we don’t have a choice. It’s as if the ugly response from me is forced by my circumstances, and unfortunately, it’s often the people I love most that can incite defiling responses from me. 

Other times, I feel more immune from the barbs, the slights, the perceived wrongs, committed by others, and I don’t respond badly.  So what’s the difference?  Why sometimes can we brush things off, and other times we cannot?  And how come some people never seem to be incited to that ugly response.  More importantly, how can I move towards the less reactive, non-envyious, non-prideful, non-avarice way?
 
The answer comes from the other readings today.  The Song of Solomon is an incredibly evocative love poem.  Arise my love and come away.  This love poem is full of images and sounds and smells that could make you blush. Do you remember being newly in love? That giddy, early love?  When you feel that loved, and that in love, it’s hard to be provoked into much – other than song or a smile.  That’s the answer.   Love, in fact, is the answer. 

Sometime, read the Song of Solomon and imagine it was written about you, by your soul mate. Glow with that giddy love.  Imagine now that this love language is spoken to, by God.  The Song of Solomon is intended to illustrate God’s love for us.  Arise my love, and come away. 

Yes, God loves us that much.   

If you knew, if we could feel that love from God, which doesn’t change, doesn’t waiver, we’d be in that giddy new love.   The brain in love sees beauty everywhere.  That’s what love poems are – seeing beauty in really interesting places, just like the Song of Solomon.  “I see my love gazing through the lattice, looking like a gazelle.”   This may not make sense to anyone except a brain in love. 

God loves us that much, and unlike early romantic love, God’s love for us doesn’t waver or change or fizzle out.  As the epistle says, God’s light creates no shadows.  Nothing is outside it.  And nothing else, not our fear, not our malice, not our pride, is so big that it can create a shadow.   God’s love is all around us, all the time, so that there are no shadows and it never changes.   

I think it’s this encompassing, enveloping love that is our secret defense, and why Christ says nothing outside us can defile us.   If we let it, we are so filled with God’s love that external things cannot defile us.   

The Pharisees felt the disciples were defiled because they hadn’t washed their hands before eating.   What Christ is saying is that it isn’t the dirty hands, or the forgotten cleaning, or the stolen parking spot that defiles us.  Those things happen – outside us, and often beyond our control.  It’s our response and our intention that can defile.     And it’s God’s unimaginable love in us that lets us respond in love, regardless of what’s happening outside. 

Today, we’re not likely to be deemed defiled because we didn’t wash our hands, as the disciples were.  But there are other risks today.  Lost parking spots.  Divisive politics.  Social unrest.  Economics.  These things happen TO us, around us. Outside us.  

Letting God’s love in, that unwavering all-encompassing love, we have the opportunity to turn all of those bad things that happen TO us, to wonderful loving things coming FROM us. 

Examples of this happen all around us, every day in little ways.  Really big ways make the news.  In 2006, a man shot 10 Amish school girls in Pennsylvania. The community’s response glowed with God’s love, as they individually and collectively showed forgiveness.  Talking about the gunman, the grandfather of one of the victims said, “We must not think evil of this man”.  The media tried to make the Amish out to be super-human.  But by their own admission, they are human, and they did nothing heroic, other than letting God’s love in and through them.
 
 A month ago, a gunman entered a Sikh house of worship and killed 5 people.  Their response was also one that radiated God’s love.  "Together, we will try our best to heal from this tragedy," said the president of the World Sikh Council. "Together we will try to bring peace to the misguided and troubled minds. Together we will ensure that no person and no community feels unsafe and intimidated by such senseless violence."

In the face of those kinds of events, these people of faith did not respond with a defiling ugly response.  They responded in a way that glowed with God’s love.  They refused to let something external defile them.  They responded in love, rooted firmly in God’s all-encompassing love. 

Let God’s love in.  Feel that giddy-in love feeling.  Even if you can’t feel it, know that you are enveloped in that kind of love.   From that place of overflowing love, don’t let things outside defile you.  Instead, turn all those opportunities, all those barbs, and slights, and stolen parking spots to be opportunities of grace, and an opportunity to show God’s Love. 

Mother Teresa said it well.  She said, “Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.”   With God’s love, we can.