Proper 25 C

Proper 25 C

October 27, 2013

Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, `God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, `God, be merciful to me, a sinner!' I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted."  Luke 18: 9-14

In today’s reading from Luke, a Pharisee and tax collector are praying in the temple.  And after their prayers, one walks away justified, and the other does not.  Given the social structures and cultural norms of the time, people would have thought that the Pharisee would be the one walking away justified.  Pharisees after all, did what was “right”.  On the other hand, tax collectors were horrid, culturally and practically much worse than today’s tax collectors.  In that time, Jewish people thought it was wrong to pay taxes to a foreign occupying power like the Romans, and yet some Jews took the job of collecting that tax from their fellow Jews. Not only did tax collectors do the Roman’s dirty work, they also did it in a crooked nearly extorting way.  They could require payment far in excess of what was actually owed the Romans and pocket the difference.  The Romans didn’t care, as long as they got their due.  Tax collectors of that time were more like the old crooked government workers from places like Chicago, who took illegal and immoral liberties with their people for the government designed to protect and govern.  What tax collectors did was seen as a betrayal to the Jewish people, their culture and religious law. 

People hearing the set up for this parable would have known that the Pharisee walks away justified.  But again and again Jesus uses parables not so much tell us how the people how they should act, but to illustrate why their expectations and values were so very wrong.  How does that happen, and what if anything does this parable say to us now?

The way Jesus tells the story gives us some clues.  The Pharisee was offering a prayer of thanksgiving, sort of.  True, he was thanking God.  But embedded in the thanks was a good dose of judgment and condescension.  Thank you God.   Thank you that I’m not like those others - the thieves, rogues, adulterers. And certainly not like that tax collector.  True, the Pharisee was grateful, but it was a gratitude steeped in one-upmanship.  

In one simple prayer that sounds like a thanksgiving prayer, the Pharisee is setting himself above the others, who he deems below or worse off than him.  Thank you God, that I’m not like them.   I can imagine that the people hearing the parable were getting a little uncomfortable.  He’s not talking about us, is he?    

After making this sweeping and condemning judgment of the tax collector, the Pharisee makes his second error.  He points to all the things he’s been doing that should make him right with God.  He fasts and he tithes, giving 10% of his income.   While these are good things, those actions alone do not make him right with God.  And yet that’s what the Pharisee uses as his defense, as to why he’s better than the tax collector. 

So Jesus again uses a parable to smash the status quo myths about who’s justified and who’s not and turns things right side up.   It’s not the man who follows the rules, who has more social and cultural status.  It’s the very person the Pharisee had judged as unworthy, the betraying, cheating, socially ostracized tax collector   

Jesus tells the story and with his typical twists, we can all get to the unexpected conclusion that sounds so simple.  Of course the tax collector, who expresses humility, and understands he’s a sinner is the one who’s justified.  That’s simple.  Of course the Pharisee who’s judgmental and believes he is good because of his actions is not justified.  That’s simple.  Ahh.  Simple, but not easy.  We can understand the words, but applying it to our world? Not easy.  

But the place where I feel we can learn the most from today’s and probably any parable isn't so much from the simple truths Jesus illuminates.  It’s the place where the story is not easy.  The way we make it our story.  Simple but not easy.  

The not- easy part from today’s Gospel reading for me surrounds the Pharisees – who they were, what they stood for, and why they always seem to be in trouble with Jesus.  

If you look at the Pharisees, there’s actually much to be respected.  The term Pharisee stems from the Hebrew and Aramaic words for separatists.  The Pharisees were separating themselves from the other religious and cultural groups at the time because they saw themselves as being true keepers of the Jewish Law unlike other groups.  They held on dearly to their laws and traditions, and followed them even when the culture did not.  

Unlike other Jewish sects at the time, Pharisees believed that Jews did not need to go to the Temple to experience God.  God was not contained in the Temple.  So they brought the Jewish law out in the world, in an effort to sanctify the world similar to acts done in the Temple, to make holy the whole of people’s lives.  

Unlike other Jewish sects at the time, Pharisees believed in the resurrection of the dead.  

And Pharisees were strong advocates for justice, taking care of others.
  
These don’t sound like horrible traits. In fact, they sound familiar, close to home.    Think about our Anglican or Episcopal tradition.  Anglicans started as separatists, separating ourselves from both the Roman Catholic Church and the Protestant movement, and while there were some pesky divorce and social issues in play, there was also a fundamental concern with those faiths.  We absolutely were separatists. 

We believe that the Holy is all around in the world, not just in Church.  We believe in the resurrection of the dead.  We hold fast to our liturgy, our traditions, and our history, even when the culture and other religious traditions scoff.   And, as we commit in our baptismal covenant, we strive for justice and peace on the earth and we respect the dignity of every human being. 
  
What’s fascinating - and disconcerting - to me is how similar this basic description of Pharisee is to my faith tradition.  And yet, the Pharisees seem to be frequently criticized in the Gospels, or at least used as the model of what NOT to do.  Hmm. 

I do not believe that it was the mere fact that the Pharisee was a traditionalist, or a separatist, or a supporter of social justice, or a keeper of the law that doomed the Pharisee again and again.  Nor do I think any of those things are inherently bad. After all, that’s a lot like us. 

 But I do think that because we’re characteristically a lot like the Pharisees, we have some of the same risks and pitfalls that got the Pharisees in all kinds of trouble in Jesus’ time.  

Take our rites, rituals and liturgies.  We do and say certain things at certain times.  We kneel, we stand, we sit, we cross ourselves.  We hold on to these actions as a symbol of our faith, and each action is rooted in history and has significant meaning, or at least should.   Some people stand after the Sanctus   while others kneel.  This could be simply due to how you were raised.  The Cathedral in Seattle offered a note in the bulletin that provided extra direction and explanation about that time in the service.  It said that many people kneel, and that kneeling is a sign of contrition, so by kneeling, you’re showing some humility, sort of like the Tax Collector in today’s story.  The bulletin went on to explain that others stand, to express their assurance in a risen Lord that has redeemed and restored us to wholeness.  The bulletin left it to the discretion of the worshipper.   Some people always knelt, some always stood.  Some changed their position week by week, depending on their relationship with God at the time.    

Being liturgical and ritualistic and doing certain things at certain times isn’t a problem.  But we need to connect what we’re doing with why we’re doing it.  We shouldn’t do things either because 1) we’ve always done it that way or worse 2) because we think it will make us right with God.  Perform the rituals because they mean something to you.  They are an outward and physical expression of your faith and relationship with God.  If they are anything else, we risk becoming like the Pharisees.   The rituals and traditions in our faith are deep, and meaningful and moving.  Take time to think about what you’re doing, or read the rubrics in the prayer book, you know, the italic words preceding each section.  Sometimes they just provide stage directions, but often they offer some insight as to why we do what we do. But whatever you do, please do not act out of a misguided sense that those actions make us right with God, or better than people who don’t.    

The other, and I believe more dangerous pitfall for us is the one that resulted in the Pharisee’s ill-attempted prayer, being thankful that he was not like those other people.   Some of the characteristics of our Episcopal faith put us at risk for the same fault.  A 2007 report by the Pew Research Foundation showed the distribution of wealth among Americans by religious tradition.  Of the sample of nearly 23,000 people, 19% of all Christians had incomes greater than $100,000.  But nearly 35% of us Anglicans had incomes more than $100,000, more than any other Christian denomination.  Simply put, we as a denomination are richer than other Christians.  

Not only that, we’re better educated, with nearly 29% holding college degrees, nearly twice the number of college graduates of other Protestants or Roman Catholics. 

Finally, we are less racially diverse.  92% of Episcopalians are Caucasian, compared with 66% Catholics, and 74% other protestant denominations.  
Please do not misunderstand me.  I am NOT suggesting any of these things are bad.  I do not believe that Jesus inherently prefers or dislikes any one.  No one by characteristic is more or less loved and cherished by God.  The poor, the tax collector, the Pharisee, the rich.  It’s what we do with God’s gifts that is judged by God.   

Having said that, we are richer, whiter and better educated than all other Christians in the United States.  And while none of those things make us bad, it makes us different.  Like the Pharisees, it would be exceedingly easy, given our demographic place in society, to be thankful.  Thankful that we aren’t like those other people.   

Instead of reveling in our specialness, we need to thank God for who we are, and what we are and how we believe and the community we have.  We need to take stock of the great resources we have to help bring about the Kingdom of God, where all people are cherished and loved.  

So how can we use what we have and who we are?  We at St. Thomas already have great outreach efforts.  Through the great work of the Outreach Committee, we donate thousands of dollars each year.  The community garden contributed over 20,000 pounds of produce in the month of September alone. The Community Counseling Center sees hundreds of people, and we’ve got dozens of volunteers throughout the community feeding people, working at thrift shops, mentoring youth.  We rock.  We need to keep doing that, and always strive to do more.   Doing things in the community, being engaged with other people, seeking and serving Christ in all people  helps reduce those barriers that we put up, that they put up, that society thinks exist.  
If we don’t actively break those barriers through service and prayer, it’s easy to simply be grateful that we aren’t like them.  

I’m not sure what else we can do, or what we can do better, but I’m sure there’s something.  And more importantly, I’m certain you have ideas   Talk with your brothers and sisters in Christ at coffee hour sometime.  What are we doing that brings us closer to the others, the adulterers, rogues, tax collectors, homeless, hungry?   What else can or should we at St. Thomas be doing? How should we be sharing our wealth?   

When we share and serve we bridge the chasm between us and them.  When we share a cup of coffee, buy a blanket, or mentor a child,  we begin to see that we are sort of like them.  The rogues, adulterers, mentally ill.  
After all, in God’s eyes, we're exactly like them.   God’s just waiting for us to figure that out. 

Amen

Proper 20 C - The Shrewd Manager

Proper 20

September 22, 2013

Luke 16:1-13

The Shrewd Manager

Before we start talking about today’s tricky readings, I have a little test. There are three steps.  I’ll go slow, and there are no winners or losers.  Do this in your head, and don’t say anything out loud, lest you ruin the surprise.

First, think of a country that begins with the letter D.

Now, think of an animal that begins with the last letter of your country.

Finally, think of a color that begins with the last letter of your animal.

Now picture your animal, in your color, cheering at the Olympics for your county.

Got it?  OK.  Now realize how silly it is to think of an orange kangaroo cheering for Denmark.  There are no orange kangaroos!

I must be magic, right?  Nope, just trained on cultural bias and assumptions.  We all have bias that results in us making  choices.  And so much of that bias is based on things we don’t even see, things we don’t actively decide.  We get our bias in a pretty passive way – where we live, when we were born.  And these things change the way we see the world.  It changes what we assume about ourselves and about others, and determines our actions.

 See, we northern hemisphere, first world folks most frequently pick Denmark as our country that begins with D. In another hemisphere and culture, we might have picked Djibouti, or Democratic Republic of Congo.   Once most of us picked Denmark, there are other animals that begin with a K, but kangaroos are on all our ABC flash cards.  Orange is in our crayon pack, but serious artists in the bunch may have picked ocher.  And if we lived in Temple, Texas or Tacoma Washington, we may have jumped to the color olive, because of the significant amount we see at our community’s army bases.

The moral of this little exercise?  We are absolutely creatures of our culture.  So much so that we don’t even see our cultural bias, and yet the majority of us stood there envisioning an orange kangaroo from Denmark.  This cultural bias ends up firmly attaching to our psyche, and helps develop something that’s gaining national attention, our implicit bias –which is so inherit or implicit, we fail to see it.   It influences what we think about other people, other cultures, other countries, and even the colors, animals and countries you pick at a short little exercise at church.

There’s nothing to do about implicit bias, except understand it exists, and question it when you make judgments about others.   Just be aware of it.

I mention all of this about cultural and implicit bias in light of today’s Gospel reading.  This reading from Luke 16 is tough.   What we hear, or at least what I heard is the following: The manager isn’t doing a good job and gets fired.  Being conniving, he runs to the people who owed his employer and tells them to cut what they owe.  This accomplishes a few things.  It makes the debtors grateful, and ingratiates them to the manager.  The rich owner then does the unthinkable.  He commends the manager.   What?  That’s not fair.

From where we sit, in one of the most capitalistic and wealthy countries in the world, this cannot be right.  The manager swindles his boss out of his hard earned income, and the owner thanks him?   This goes against everything we entrepreneurial Americans to know to be true.  You work hard and are honest, and the system repays you.  If you are wronged, justice will be done.

But what if our understanding and our visceral reaction to this story is deeply affected by that implicit bias?     For a second, let’s step away from that orange kangaroo and try to see things as if we weren't as implicitly biased as we really are.

What if the manager had worked his whole life, was a great manager and had done everything expected of him by his rich owner.  Maybe the rich owner is a crook, and inappropriately fired the manager, leaving the manager to face pending doom without skills or resources.  Some scholars argue that the words used would indicate that the manager was in the right and the rich owner was mean, and inappropriately fired the manager, trying to destroy him.     That would make the story easier to swallow and understand.

Here’s another scenario that doesn't jump out at us because of our implicit bias.  What if what the people originally borrowed was significantly less than what they were asked to pay back?  There were laws on the books at the time prohibiting lending with any interest.  What if the rich owner not only lent with interest, but with significant interest, conducting what is now known as “predatory lending practices”?  What if they’d borrowed the equivalent of 2 jugs of oil, and now one year later, payment was being extracted for 100?  This may seem absurd, but that’s exactly what the annual rate would be for the predatory payday loans that are rampant in our society.  People borrow $100 for 2 weeks, and are required to pay $15 interest.  Carried out for a year, that’s nearly 4,000 percent interest.  People are crippled by exorbitant interest fees on these seemingly innocent short term loans.  As a result, they borrow more to pay the last debt, resulting in increasing debt.  This is a horrible problem in our country.   While banks are heavily regulated, payday loan establishments are not, and the people who use them are stuck with unregulated horrible predatory lending practices that cripple them.  If we were sitting in their shoes, maybe this story would sound different.

Maybe the wealthy owner was effectively a predatory lender, and he was jacking up the interest to the point that it was unbearable.  Perhaps the manager was just performing his own form of debt forgiveness, in a corrupt and unfair system.    Some scholars argue that the words used in this story would indicate that the manager was just making right on the original loan, and removing the excessive interest.  This too would make the story more understandable.

I’m not sure whether these scholarly justifications are correct, but they don’t ring true with me.  These explanations, predatory lender or mean boss, both help explain the story, but I think they let us off the hook, in thinking about the hard part of today’s Gospel reading.

At its core, today’s reading is about an authority figure, who has someone over which he has some authority.  The underling is trusted, and then messes up.  Badly.  And in the end, the underling returns and instead of being mad, the authority figure commends the subordinate.   Does that sound like any other stories familiar to us?  What about one of the most beloved, heart warming stories, the story of the prodigal son?

Authority figure – father.   Subordinate who messes up – son.  Son returns and instead of being mad, like the older brother is, the father welcomes him and celebrates.  Perhaps not coincidentally, the story of the prodigal son immediately precedes this story.   In the oral tradition, these stories would likely have been heard together.  So perhaps it’s not a coincidence.  Maybe the stories are related somehow, even though one story we love, and the other – we don’t.

Why are these stories received so very differently by us?  I think it’s because we live in a society where we implicitly value family.  Forgiveness and love are what we assume family is; it’s what family is supposed to do.  It’s justified.  I’m not suggesting that it always is exactly like that, but that’s our assumption or norm about family.  We want to be that forgiving father.  Work, on the other hand, is not that.  It is contractual, and we have no illusion of love or relationship.  If we’re the employee, it’s how we make money. If we’re the boss, it’s how we make more money.  The primary purpose is making money; it’s not primarily about the relationships.

Both stories involve power, bad decisions, relationships, and mercy, or at least, the lack of condemnation.  Because of their contexts and our implicit biases, in one we hear family, love, forgiveness, good master and good loving resolution.  In the other we hear money, cheat, bad master, and bad unfair resolution.

We can see how and why the father forgave and welcomed the son, why he chose love over justice.  That’s what fathers do.  It’s much more difficult to comprehend why the master commended the shrewd manager, why he welcomed him with a commendation, why he chose love over justice.

I believe that the three most frequently repeated words of mine as a child were, “that’s not fair”.  I was all about justice, defined in the worldly dictionary as action that is morally right and fair.    To a large degree, I still am.   I believe it’s critical to try to be just and fair.  But what I hear in today’s reading is that there is something more important than justice.  Love.

What I hear from the Gospel today is that at the end of the day, love needs to rule, not justice.   Love needs to rule when it’s an errant son returning, or a shrewd manager.

Love needs to rule when it’s my own kids, or my coworkers.  Love needs to rule when the other person steals our heart, our inheritance, our money.  Love needs to rule when there’s remorse, and when there isn’t.

In this story, the resolution was unjust.  And we have a great model for seeing what that choice looks like in action.   At the end of his life, as he was being tried and tortured, Christ did not choose fairness or justice.  He could have.   Everyone was goading him to save himself, to testify on his own behalf.  But he chose love.  He chose an incredibly unjust resolution to demonstrate what love looks like, to show what the choice of love over justice looks like.

The closing of today’s Gospel says you cannot serve God and wealth.  We hear that and we know that it means we can’t love money more than we love God.  But in light of today’s reading, I think it also is a warning about those implicit biases we don’t even know we have.  The one that makes the unforgivable actions of a child against a parent more forgivable than the unforgivable actions of an employee  against the money-making boss.  For some reason we feel it’s more egregious to wrong someone when the relationship is primarily about money, rather than when it’s family  That says something about the high value we place on that money making relationship.  To me, it says that we do serve two masters, and that the second master, the money master, is so embedded in our culture and our bias, we don’t even see it.  We hear the praise for the shrewd manager, and cannot fathom why, even though we all love the similar plot of the prodigal son.   We need to understand that we do have bias, particularly about wealth and capitalism, and the American Dream.  And knowing that, we need to struggle with today’s Gospel.  And we need to fight against the invisible urge to root for the orange kangaroo, or to decide that in this story, this story that involves money, love is too extravagant.

When I feel that urge to respond with my battle cry, “that’s not fair”, I need to catch myself and try to figure out if my implicit biases are making me serve that other master, the master that cares about retribution,  and my hard-earned money, or making sure things are fair.   I believe that it’s our cultural capitalistic implicit bias that makes this story so much harder to hear, harder to understand.

After all, Jesus didn't strive to be fair.  He didn't command everyone to be fair to one another, but rather to love one another.   Love needs to rule when we know it’s the right thing to do, like the prodigal son.  And Love needs to rule when it’s hard, and doesn't seem fair.  Particularly, when it doesn't seem fair.  When it’s hardest, it’s most important that we as Christians love. When we hold fast to love, when we serve love, not money and not justice, we are, as the collect says, holding fast to things that endure, and we can let those earthy things like money, like retribution pass away without anxiety.   We cannot serve God and wealth.  Our greatest challenge is to see and cease all of the ways our implicit bias about wealth and money and working hard and the American Dream result in actions that serve that other master.   Instead, we need to serve love.