Proper 9A - July 6, 2014

Proper 9A

July 6, 2014

I have a secret.  I don’t, as a general rule, truly appreciate Paul or his writings.  His language is sometimes hard to understand, his concepts challenging, and his sentences way too long. Ask any lay reader.  But today’s reading is one of the exceptions.  I really like this section of Romans.  

Paul is continuing his explanation of grace to a bunch of serious skeptics.  A few weeks ago, he had to explain that no, just because you are forgiven that doesn’t mean you can keep sinning and sin big.  Today, he’s explaining that sin is something that’s in us, that cloaks itself in goodness, and despite our best intentions, we do the wrong thing, time and time again.

Not only that, but Paul observes that “when I want to what is good, evil lies close at hand”.    This isn’t just a passive-ever resident sin, “I do what I don’t want to do”, but somehow, there’s something about Paul’s actions, his seemingly positive actions, where sin lurks.  When me does something he thinks is good and right, it turns out to be bad and wrong.   Sound familiar?

Just think about his actions before his conversion, when he was known as Saul.  Saul the good Pharisee was helping the faithful by participating in the persecution of the early Christians.  With full conviction and complete faith that he was doing what he was supposed to do, he held the coats of the people who stoned Stephen to death.  Stephen, the man attributed as the first Christian deacon. Stephen the first Christian Martyr.  

This wasn’t the instance where Saul meant to hurt anyone that day, but instead accidentally participated in a murder.  He was doing what he thought was right. He was a willing partner because he believed it was the right thing to do.  He was participating, in name of God.  And even there, evil lurked.

I like this reading, because I appreciate and recognize both kinds of sin.  One I’ll call accidental.  This is the kind of sin where we intend to act in one way, and we, for some reason, act in the exact opposite.  I mean to exercise.  I mean to eat well.  I mean to pray every morning.  And yet.  Despite my best intentions, I fail.  And while I’m lazing, eating, or whatever it is I’m doing other than what I intend to be doing, my head is excusing it.  This piece of chocolate won’t matter. Immediately after eating it, I know it was a bad call. It was a momentary lapse, almost like an accident.   Everyone who’s tried to diet knows this.  Why is it so hard?  And eating well, or not eating well, is just the tip of the iceberg.  Prayer. Kindness. Fidelity.  We fully intend to act one way, and then – don’t.

The other kind of evil is more insidious, and harder to acknowledge and see. I’ll call this cloaked. This is the kind that isn’t an accident.  We fully intend to take that action, because we fully believe we are justified and right.  Saul holding the coats to make it easier for the people stoning Stephen.  Me, saying that I can’t pray this morning because I’m going to ride my bike to work. This cloaked sin looks like the right thing to do. It feels like the right thing to do.  And that’s why it’s so dangerous.  Evil has a way of seeping into our brain and heart and make us think we’re doing something good.  Sure, riding my bike is good.  But prayer is great, and my soul needs it.  Some days definitely need it more than a bike ride.

Now, some may say this is just weakness or temptation. Or a lack of commitment.  I’m not sure that it matters what you call it.  I am sure that there are times it feels like my normally controlled logical will is not steering the ship.

How could a full day of good eating habits be torpedoed by the ill-reasoned logic that the beer and nachos won’t matter?   It feels like - momentarily at a minimum, I’m not the only one calling the shots, not the only one steering this ship.

I’m not suggesting that there’s a little horned devil on my shoulder.  But while I am pretty comfortable that God is involved in my decisions and actions, I’ve been reluctant to acknowledge that other force.  And I think Paul does a good job getting me to the place where I must.  Listening to the reading from Romans and Paul going on about doing what he doesn’t mean to do could sound like a crazy person.  But we’ve all been there.  He’s describing something we’ve all experienced.  And when you think about it the way Paul frames it, he helps us reach the conclusion that sin and evil are real, and are real close.

If that’s the case, if there are moments when I act in ways that seem externally influenced, or where my iron will is somehow compromised,  or where my fully committed actions end up being a big cover up for bad actions, I have to imagine that this is true for others.  If it’s true for me, it’s probably true for others I know and love. For my kids.  My husband.  My co-workers and friends.

And it stands to reason that if it’s true for the people I love, it’s probably true for those who I don’t.  For those I barely like. Imagine the worst of the worst.  The drug addicts. The abusers. Those people who act in ways you can’t understand, can’t excuse, and can’t love.  Just like me and my healthy eating, they too intend to act one way and then act another. Just the same.

It’s that same sin, that same insidious cloaked sin that causes me to ride my bike instead of sitting with God.  It’s the cloaked sin that makes the woman prostitute herself to make money to feed her children.  It’s the same accidental sin that make the business man have that drink when he knows better, or that person on the street have one more high.

And more insidious is the cloaked sin of pecking order.  On the streets or in prison, there is an absolute, inviolate pecking order.  The clients who help out with the breakfast are quick to point out the shortcomings of those still dealing drugs. They think, “I am better than those people, because my sin is less current, less horrible than theirs.” It’s the same cloaked sin that makes us pass the same judgment on them. I am better than those people, because my sin less current, less horrible than theirs.   True, the magnitude may differ, but the presence of sin and its effect on all of us is the same.

But there is some good news.

Paul finishes his explanation to the people of Rome with pretty simple ways to banish sin and evil.  It’s being connected to God through Christ that we can overcome the sin and evil. It’s like closet space.  Fill the closet space with something good, or it will be filled with something not good.  But it will be filled.

It’s not that God prevents evil from happening, or always keeps us from sinning, but I think sin and evil take up those spaces in our hearts and minds and souls that we can and should choose to fill up with God instead.

When that space, when our souls are filled with sin and evil, it’s tiring. We’re tired.  We’re tired of the hardness and the darkness. It’s from that place of cold and dark that Christ is most refreshing, and most peaceful.

This is what the Gospel is talking about.  Come, all who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  I need to find rest for my weary soul in God.  We all need to find rest.  Rest in God.

In Christ, we connect with God when we are weary. Through Christ, we see others in this world who are weary and need to connect with God.  Christ knows the world we live in.  Christ knows that we need God, and Christ provides a way for us to connect to God.  This connection doesn’t prevent the evil and sin.  Rather,  Christ knows this is what our world is like, and with Christ as a respite, we can continue through it.

Richard Rohr, a Catholic priest and author says this. "The most amazing fact about Jesus, unlike almost any other religious founder, is that he found God in disorder and imperfection—and told us that we must do the same or we would never be content on this earth. ”

This is why we are called to work with the broken, the hurt, the criminal.  These children of God need rest.  And while they may not find their way to a church building, to a Eucharistic table, we will leave this building and this table and find them.  On behalf of Christ, we will help share their burden.  The burden caused by that darkness and sin, the accidental and the cloaked.

We turn to Christ for our comfort, to give rest to the weary.  To fend off the darkness in our lives.  We need to be that light for others, to help them fend off the darkness in theirs.

Amen.

June 22, 2014

Proper 7A

You know C.S. Lewis, author of the Narnia books and lots of great books about Christianity.   He turned to Christianity as an adult, and when asked about it in an interview, he responded, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy.  I always knew a bottle of Port would do that.  If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity!”

Today’s reading from Matthew is a longer version  of this quip.  In this reading, Jesus is talking to his disciples about what their discipleship will be like, what they’re likely to encounter.  I liken it to a football coach talking to his team at half time.  The coach has useful insight and perspectives that will help the players deal with what is heading their way in the second half of the game. Part realist, part pep talk.

That’s what Jesus is doing.  He’s telling the disciples what they’ll encounter.   He starts with a pretty simple statement, that I like to think of as expectation management  He’s telling them that the students don’t surpass  the teacher, slave doesn’t exceed the master.  You are where you are.  Be content with where you are.  

He moves on to give the disciples a run down of what the second half of the game will include.   And basically it will include things that Jesus has already experienced, so he knows first hand what it will be like.  To truly follow Jesus has several benchmarks that do not make life more comfortable, as CS Lewis mentions.  In this passage, Christ is telling the disciples that they will experience many of the things Christ has, if they truly follow Christ.

One of those pragmatic pieces of advice is that the disciples may be persecuted.   Not just that general bad things will happen, wrong place wrong time bad things. Precisely because of what discipleship asks, for those things you will be persecuted.  The reality is that martyrdom was a reality for the disciples, as it is in other places in the world today, just for being a Christian.  Our persecution is generally not that dramatic.  But we are made to feel the outcast for wearing a cross, or more importantly for holding a Christian attitude.

Disciples may be divided from their family and friends, and they may cause similar divisions in others.  Christ says, rather starkly, that he didn’t come to bring peace to the world, but rather to bring a sword and divide people.  To set a man against his father and a woman against her mother.  Wow. What’s that about, and why would we want to follow a Christ that’s going to do that, or ask us to do that?  Christ is not saying that we should take up our swords and fight.  Rather, he’s saying that if you stand firm in your Christ-centric life, sometimes that creates a rift between family members.  If the division is because some in the family are following Christ, not just wearing the jewelry, but to their core walking the way of Christ, divisions as a result of that, may happen.  

Christ tells them that disciples are known and loved.  God cares about every sparrow, every creature.  And the disciples are more valued by God than anything.  It would be one thing if that love and knowing was from a place of platitudes and ignorance.  But this isn’t a distant God who doesn’t know them. The disciples are fully known, down to every hair on their head.  Being known that well, warts and all, and still being unconditionally loved could be a challenge.
Disciples may be bullied or physically hurt.   Christ was physically hurt and ultimately killed.  

Disciples may be asked to endure horrible things.  Think about the term, take up your cross.  Christ was asked to carry his cross, the cross on which he died.  He tells the disciples that if they are not willing to take up their cross, they are not worthy of him.   And if they’re not fully Christ Centered, he won’t be fully behind them.  

And after this realistic pragmatic vision of what discipleship will be, I can imagine the locker room was quiet.  Disciples looking at each other wondering if they should even go out on the field.   Now comes the pep talk.  Christ finishes with the best bit of news.   Despite all of this, despite the persecution, bullying and separation, he tells them to not be afraid.  

It is actually what Christ tells the disciples more than anything else.  Do not be afraid.  And if he can tell them to not be afraid, what is he telling us?

I think he’s telling us that as disciples of Christ, we will be persecuted, we will be bullied, we may be separated or cause the separation from family, we are known and loved.  And we should not be afraid.

He offers some insights to the disciples as to why they should not fear that are also relevant to us today.

We should not fear being persecuted because the truth will come out in the end. What is wrong and done in darkness will be illumined and shown for what it is. What is right and forced in darkness will be illumined and shown for what it is. Do not be afraid.

We should not fear being bullied or even physically hurt, because while bullies may be able to hurt our outward physical body, they cannot hurt our soul.  They cannot destroy the indissoluble bond we have with God in baptism.  And martyrs throughout the years, ranging from King Louis the Ninth to Christian martyrs in China, have announced at the end of their lives, “you may kill my body, but you will never kill my soul”.  Luckily we are not facing martyrdom. But we do face inconveniences and discomfort that may affect our body.  It cannot affect our soul.  Do not be afraid.

For Christ’s sake, we may be separated from family.  If we are placing Christ at the center of our life, and others don’t understand, we have two choices.  Either we apologize or change our beliefs and actions, or we stand solid with Christ.   If we stand with Christ, Christ will stand with us.  I’m not suggesting that we ought to go pick fights with doubters or detractors.  Rather, we need to understand and believe to our core that we are first of all Christians, committed to a Christ-centric life. Do not be afraid.  

We are known.  Down to the hairs on our head, the bad habits, and the bad thoughts.  Despite that level of intimacy, we are unconditionally loved by God.  Do not be afraid.

Following Christ does not immunize us from trouble, or prevent us from getting into trouble, or give us a “get out of jail free” card when we get in trouble.  Quite the contrary.  Following Christ puts us right in trouble’s way.

As Christians, we are asked to stand up for the unloved and unlovable.  To defend the underdog.  Speak up against injustice and cruelty. To cease cruel language and jokes. These things we do, that Christ did to us and on our behalf can cause some discomfort.   It can cause us to be separated, to be persecuted, to be bullied or hurt.  And with God, we should not be afraid.

This concept of God assuring us that we should not be afraid wasn’t coined by Christ.  We heard the same words in the reading from Genesis, where we begin a summer-long traipse through the great stories of Old Testament, Torah or Holy Book of Islam.

Today, we join Abraham and Sarah who’ve been promised many offspring.  They were getting old, so they decided Abraham would have a child with Hagar, his female slave. Abraham and Hagar had a son, Ishmael.  Subsequently, Sarah and Abraham have a son, Isaac, and although Sarah was involved in the Hagar plot initially, she got cold feet and decided that Hagar and Ishmael should be turned out, potentially turned out to die.  And so Abraham turned out his son Ishmael and his mother Hagar.   But God interjects here, just as Christ does with the disciples in Matthew, telling Hagar, “do not be afraid”.

Not only that, but God tells Hagar that God will make a great nation of Ishmael, the son she had with Abraham.  And God did.  Ishmael is seen as the father of Islam, with his descendant Mohammed.   Hmm.  

As I said, we are beginning a long sequential reading of these fascinating stories from Genesis and Exodus.  Pay attention, and think about the whole story they tell. By the end of the summer you’ll have heard about some great stories that are the foundation of Islam, Judaism and Christianity.

We are people of God, children of Abraham.  And while we know our Christian story, there are so many other stories of God that we may not know. Stories of other children of Abraham.  But they are stories of God and God’s salvation.  And from Abraham, Hagar and Ishmael, Sarah and Isaac, to Christ’s disciples, to all of us children of God, we are not supposed to be afraid.  We are to put our trust in God. And God will deliver.

What is it that you fear?  Money troubles?  Doubting your faith? Trouble with kids?  Your health?  We follow a Christ who’s been through it all.  Seen it all.  Experienced it all.   He experienced all of that, and more.  He knows his disciples will experience all of that, and more.  And yet, his repeated counsel is - Do not be afraid.

I hate to ruin the ending of your story for you, but it’s going to be all right.  
 Amen