Sunday, February 8, 2015

24

Epiphany 5B
February 8, 2015



There used to be a TV show on, called 24 with Kiefer Sutherland.  The show followed the main character for 24 hours in his life.  Every show, or day, was different, otherwise it would have been a very boring eight seasons. But each day included the same elements. Bauer is faced with a challenge. He spends the next 23 hours figuring out what he needs to do to address the problem, while new roadblocks are thrown up throughout the day. At some point, he rests. 

Today, we get a view into what could be considered the 24 pilot episode, or maybe where the original idea came from.  Today we hear about 24, a day in the life of Jesus. And while the day we hear about may not be like every other day in Jesus’ life, it contains the key elements into his life.  As self-professed followers of Jesus, it gives us a road map of what we are to do in our life, in each 24 hour day.  

A quick recap of the day we hear about this morning.  

He healed and lifted up the disciples’ mother-in-law.  

At night, the whole town comes.  He cured many.

In the morning, he went off to pray in a deserted place.  

Later he moves on and proclaims the good news somewhere else.

Let’s break that down a little.  

The first part we hear is that Jesus enters the house of Simon and Andrew. Their mother-in-law was sick with a fever. In those pre-antibiotic days, a fever was a serious and deadly matter. The Gospel says that Jesus lifted her up.  The interesting thing about this is that the word that’s originally used is the same word as is used to describe Jesus’ resurrection. He took her hand, and raised her up. 


After he raises up the mother in law, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed. And by all, I think they mean all.  It says that the whole city was gathered at his door. It’s clear that there, at this house, in the dark, Jesus was pressed into further service and a lot of it. He cures many of them.  Finally, he retires.

When he got up, he went off to pray because he needed to be recharged, to be reconnected to God.  Even he, God incarnate, needed to actively connect with God.  Jesus rested first, and then rose in the dark to go off to pray.  We too need to rest. Then we need to carve out time to go off and pray.  To reconnect with God and recharge.

[wait]

We hear that the disciples hunted him down, exclaiming that “everyone is searching for you”.  His response?  He said they need to move on to the next town, so he can proclaim the good news there.  Because that is what he came to do.   

So in his 24 hours, he heals someone in private and raises her up.  He heals hordes of others after word spreads.  He goes off to pray in an isolated and dark place.  He moves on, presumably to do the same thing, again and again and again.  

As followers of Jesus, this is what we need to do too.  Two weeks from today, we’ll celebrate the first Sunday of Lent.  Look at what Jesus did in his 24 hours and think about yourself. What of these traits should you do more of?  What should you start?  Lent is a good time to try something out like that.  More than giving up meat or chocolate.  Do something modeling Jesus’ 24 hour busy day, because it will reconnect you with God.  What you pick is up to you. Or maybe you share with someone else and journey through Lent together.  With Jesus as our guide, here are some options.

First we need to heal and raise up others.  Maybe we can’t resurrect them in exactly the same way. But we absolutely can, as our translation says, take someone by the hand and lift them up.  That’s personal.  That’s touching someone.  And helping them in a very intimate way.  

When you’re finished with what you intended to do, with extending your hand to help someone else, more need likely be made apparent. Help more. Heal some of the crowds from the city that come to your door at the end of your long day. This requires fortitude, I think.  It’s one thing to help someone when you choose. It feels good for us, the helper.  And when we’re done with what we intended, we’re done. We’ve satiated that need in us to help. And yet, more need appears. It’s at that moment, when I’m ready to hang up my apron, or have answered the most contentious caller’s question, that I’m pressed into service again. And that second time, after I’ve done what I set out to do, it isn’t nearly as rewarding for me.  But the need remains.  So  serve more. Heal more.  Love more. It’s inconvenient, and unscheduled and trying.  

And necessary.

When you’ve offered a helping hand, helped more and are spent, find time to pray more.  Despite the mounting need, pray. Regularly.  Daily.   

And at some point, move on and repeat the cycle.  Heal. Heal more.  Pray.  Move on. 

As 21st century overly-busy, overly self-centered folks I can tell you that I have a little trouble with two of these four things Jesus did.  If you know me, or are like me at all, this may resonate with you too. First, go off and pray.  When there’s that much to do?  However can they live without me?  

Second, move on.  When there’s that much to do?  However can they live without me?  

Regarding prayer, I know that I need to actively schedule time in my day – every day – to pray and be simply in the presence of God.  Without a plan, that intention of mine slips away, with all of the demands of the day beckoning.  During Lent, I’m going to pray Morning Prayer every weekday morning. I’ve prayed the Daily Office before, and it’s precisely the routine and same-ness that gives my soul rest. Of the things Jesus did in his 24 hours, this is the one I need more of now. 

Finally, what are we to make of Jesus simply moving on to another town?  Isn’t there more to be done here, with this project?  With this effort? With this need?  We have a key why the moving on strategy works with the mother-in-law’s story. After Jesus touches her, heals her and raises her up,  we hear that her response was that she served the disciples that evening.

 Many criticize this story as an indication of the anti-feminist sentiments of the time. While they certainly were paternalistic times, I think it’s misguided to be offended by her service.  Going back to the original language, the word that’s used to describe her service is diakonia. It’s the word that describes how the angels served Jesus.  It is a holy service, done in response to God’s healing touch and grace in our lives.  It’s not drudgery. It’s the same service we are all called to, when we seek and serve Christ in all people, in response to God’s grace and love.  It is also the source of the word deacon.   


In response to the presence of God’s hand lifting us up, we are called to serve. Her service was as the woman of the house, and to serve the guests.  And so she served. It’s not a demeaning service, any more than making coffee for the homeless, or feeding the prostitute, or picking up kids from sports. It is holy service. It’s what our response is supposed to be. We respond with service. We extend God’s helping hand to another in service.  

Jesus can move on and preach the good news, heal people, heal some more and move on again, because he’s touched us. It’s our turn to respond in diakonia, in holy service to others.  

Amen.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Speak, for Your Servant is Listening - Epiphany 2B

January, 18, 2015

Today we celebrate the second Sunday after Epiphany. An Epiphany is a visible manifestation of a hidden divinity, and today we hear a few great Epiphany stories that have all the right parts. Plot twists, surprises, and great supporting actors. 

First we hear a story about Samuel and Eli. A little background first. Samuel’s mother, Hannah, was in her old age and prayed for a child. After she conceived, she committed her child to God. So as a small child, Samuel was handed over to the temple and served the Lord under Eli’s watchful eye. Even steeped in the temple though, the story says that Samuel did yet not know the Lord. This is an interesting phrase, not knowing the Lord, and is reserved for some pretty sketchy characters. Pharaoh did not know the Lord. So we can assume Samuel, despite living in the temple, was distanced from God. But the story teller gives a little foreshadowing of what’s to come, by specifying that Samuel did not know the Lord, YET. 

So we have this boy, raised in the temple who didn’t yet know the Lord. The story also tells us that was a time when there were few visions in Israel – God did not make many appearances. So at a time when there were few visions, God calls out to Samuel, this distanced boy who had not heard the word of God. 

Samuel, thinking it must be Eli, checks in with Eli. 
Yes, Eli? 
Eli responds, I didn’t say anything. 

Again, God calls and Samuel goes to Eli. I didn’t call you. 

The third time God calls Samuel and Samuel bothers Eli, Eli figures out that it might be God calling and sends the boy to bed, suggesting that the next time he hears God, Samuel should respond, “Speak, for your servant is listening”. And so he does. And God calls a fourth time, the Lord stands before Samuel and this time, a more receptive Samuel responds. God gives Samuel some tough news about Eli and his family. God basically tells Samuel that Eli’s being fired because of the bad behavior of Eli’s sons and Eli’s non-response. Eli’s house will be punished forever. 

We are told that Samuel laid in his bed until morning, and was afraid to say anything to Eli. In the morning though, Eli tells him he should share what God said, and so reluctantly, Samuel tells of God’s message. 

Then we move to Gospel story of Nathaniel, Philip and Jesus. Jesus sees Philip and tells Philip to “Follow me”. Not only does Philip follow Jesus, but he goes and gets his buddy Nathaniel. Philip tells Nathaniel, “We have found the one Moses spoke about.” Nathaniel is duly skeptical, responding “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Philip says “Come and See”. 

So we have three characters, each who has their own Epiphany, a new understanding or manifestation of divinity. They each are the main characters of their story, but they are reliant on other people to connect them to God, others who play supporting roles in their story.

First we have Samuel. Not only does God call Samuel, but God appeared before Samuel. Samuel didn’t see, didn’t recognize, didn’t respond to God. On one hand, it’s hard to imagine that he didn’t recognize God. But on the other hand, how could he? He didn’t yet know the Lord. God is so much bigger, so much more than we can imagine, God might be hard to recognize or comprehend, even if God was standing right in front of you. 

The first story with the actor and supporting actor is Philip and Jesus. We’ve got no story of Philip being a religious man or having any deep faith prior to his interaction with Jesus. And yet, Jesus, fully human and fully divine, calls Philip, and Philip responds immediately and affirmatively. Philip needed the living Jesus for his Epiphany. 

Lest you think that we’re all out of luck, without the person of Jesus Christ tapping us on the shoulder, think of Samuel and then Nathaniel. 

After being awoken by Samuel three times, it is Eli who understands that it is God calling Samuel, and tells Samuel to be receptive and responsive to God’s call. It is Eli who allows Samuel to understand and see. And without Eli, Samuel might have been awoken another 30 or 300 times without knowing it was God. Eli, the old man whose eyes had grown dim, permitted the boy who’d been raised in the temple see God, to have his epiphany. 

Finally we have Nathaniel. Nathaniel is sitting under a fig tree, minding his own business. After Jesus calls Philip, Philip calls Nathaniel. Come and see. Come experience the Holy. There must have been something incredibly special about Jesus, that he beckoned Philip, who came. And carried by Jesus’ power, Philip beckons Nathaniel, who recognizes Jesus as the Son of God. Because of Philip, Nathaniel follows Jesus. Without Philip, Nathaniel might still be sitting under the fig tree. 

So what can we learn about ourselves or our Epiphanies, from these stories and supporting actors? 

First of all, epiphanies aren’t limited to the right people, to the more holy. Samuel was living in the Temple but didn’t know God. And yet it’s to Samuel that God appears. 

Samuel’s encounter with God put him in an uncomfortable spot. He had to share bad news with Eli, who’d raised him. And when God appeared before him, Samuel didn’t yet know the Lord. He wasn’t a priest, wasn’t a religious insider. And yet, that’s who God selected. If you think you aren’t worthy of an interaction with God, think again. We are all worthy, and as baptized Christians, we already are in relationship with God, with an indissoluble bond. We need to get over our concepts of being unworthy or that God wouldn’t talk to me. When we do that, we are behaving like Samuel at the beginning of the story, and we risk being blind to what’s before us. Instead, we need to say, Speak, for you servant is listening. 

Second, after you say that, gird your loins, because Epiphanies often result in discomfort, risk and danger. Think about the wise men, and the risk they took worshiping a new king. Samuel was asked to tell Eli that he and his family would be punished because of Eli’s sons. Between the time he heard God’s message and when he spoke with Eli in the next morning, I can imagine Samuel WISHING he hadn’t uttered those words. Speak, for your servant is listening. 

And there’s Philip. After following Jesus, he immediately asks his friend to follow too, with little explanation. Come and see. And after he becomes a disciple of Jesus, it is Philip who is asked to feed the 5000. And tradition holds that Philip and Nathaniel were crucified upside down. We are not at risk for crucifixion, but we are all asked to serve Christ in all people. To proclaim by word and example the good news of Christ. 

Finally, epiphanies frequently require someone else. We all need Jesus, fully human, to help us understand the immensity of God and to have our epiphanies or new understandings of the holy. Sometimes you’ll need an Eli or Philip to help you see God or point out God in your midst. Sometimes you’ll need someone else to say, “Come and see”. 

And the opposite is also true. You need to be the Eli or Philip to someone else. Point out God in their midst. Come and see. 

Friday night, four of us from Eugene/Springfield went to Portland to Rahab’s Sisters, the ministry of the Diocese that provides meals and compassionate hospitality to vulnerable women. We served about 45 women in a pretty small space, and it was an exhausting, inspiring and exhilarating evening. I was thinking about epiphanies, about Samuel and Eli, and Nathaniel and Philip during the chaotic meal. 

I sat down and talked to Toni, a 45 year old woman. She’d previously lived in Texas with her husband. Somewhere along the way, her husband lost his job and she lost hers. They lost their home and burned through their savings. They returned to her home town of Portland, and things got worse. She and her husband struggled to survive on the streets of Portland. The allure of money and freedom from pain that accompanies the drug culture were too much. Earlier this week, her husband was lodged in jail, leaving her homeless and alone. 

She had never been to this dinner, but was in the neighborhood because of a needle exchange van, parked outside the church. She saw Windy her friend, who invited her in for a meal. Come and See. 
By the time I saw her, she had finished her meal and was sitting, sad and grateful. She was astonished at the horrible and relatively fast turn her life took. She was grateful for the meal, the peace, the friends she was making. 

I’d spent the whole evening looking at all of the ladies, feeling that it was good work to be sitting with them. But it wasn’t until I talked to Toni that I saw Christ standing before me. I saw Christ in each of the ladies. Last night, I was Samuel, and Toni was my Eli. She helped me see God. 

All I can say now is, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

Amen.