Proper 28A , 2017

Proper 28A

November 19, 2017

You wicked and lazy servant.  Harsh words. Those are not words we’d imagine coming out of Jesus’ mouth. Ever. Even as he’s telling a story about what that day will be like. It’s startling isn’t it?  Except it really shouldn’t be.  At this time of the church year, we have these stark, almost harsh, readings.  Last week, the Gospel talked about the 5 foolish bridesmaids who were unprepared when the bridegroom came, and they were shut out of the wedding banquet. I do not know you, said the lord of the banquet.  Today, we have the master calling one of the servants wicked and lazy, and sending him out in to the outer darkness where there’s weeping and gnashing of teeth. And as a preview for next week, we have more cheery stories from Matthew, where the son of man comes in glory, and separates the sheep from the goats, and the goats he sends to the eternal fire prepared for the devil. 

And the following week, after this trio of doom, we start Advent, with the incarnational coming of Christ.  It’s jarring, and unexpected, and seems wrong. And there’s a reason it’s set up like this. 

I struggle with this harshness.  I don’t like thinking God will ever do this.  But clearly, this run of judgment and end-time parables are designed to make absolutely sure we understand that there is a judgment, and ultimately, there is a right answer, when we meet Christ. 

A little about today’s lesson.  We’ve got the master who leaves for an extended time, and leaves three slaves in charge of money – a lot of money. It’s estimated that a talent was about 15 years’ worth of wages, so even the slave who received only one talent received a lot, with the other two slaves thirty or seventy-five years of wages.  A lot of money, to be sure.  

Two of the slaves traded, and basically doubled the master’s money.  The third slave, “knowing the master was a harsh man”, buried the money, so he could without risk, return the full amount of the money to the master. 

One obvious lesson to hear from this is that we are freely given gifts of money and skills, and that we should not bury them but rather grow them for God. So don’t bury your gifts and money. Don’t think about these “talents” as a scarce resource to be hoarded, but rather share them from a place of abundance.

So why did the third slave bury the money?  What did he do that warranted being sent away to a place with weeping and gnashing of teeth?

The first two slaves have a sense of trust and faith in their master that shows itself in their willingness to take risk with the money, without fear of reproach.  They have a sense of purposeful and abundant abandon, when sharing the “talents”. It his this faith and trust in the abundance of the master, and the resulting actions of the first two slaves that makes them “good and trustworthy”.  They are deemed good and trustworthy, because their actions clearly indicate a trust in their master. 

The third slave has a marked different impression and understanding of the master, and that perception affects how he behaves, how he stewards the talents.  He’s fearful of the master, and he definitely doesn’t trust the master, and as a result, he doesn’t grow the talents given. He hides them, protects them. But in that protection, he’s also not sharing or leveraging those talents.  His condemnation from the master, I believe, stems from his lack of trust and faith in the goodness of the master, and his resulting actions. 

I believe this story about talents is asking us to trust in God so that we can share God’s gifts, whether time, talent or treasure, with purposeful, and abundant abandon.  And I believe that the ultimate judgment we face is most frightening because of our actions, or inactions, then from God’s.  If we turn away from God’s abundant and faithful love and mercy, we willingly walk right into that outer darkness, rather than being sent there. It’s that choice we make that lands us where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. 

So back to this concept of judgment, and eschatology. That’s a great word, eschatology. It means the end times, when God’s kingdom comes, and that’s what these readings before Advent are all about, God's kingdom coming. And in Advent, we prepare for God coming into our lives in the incarnate Jesus. 

My greatest challenge with these readings, these end time stories, is that I’m pretty literal and linear. I don’t really understand, in my head, the concept of the end times, of when we meet Christ face to face again. So let me try to put it in some context that works for me, and is supported in our faith and in scripture.

This idea of the day of the Lord, or the end times, or when we meet Christ can be seen as three distinct moments. 

The first is that at some point in the future, Christ will return to Earth. In several places, scripture says the son of man will come in or on the clouds. Weekly, we say, “he will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead”.  Clearly, at that time in the future, there is a sense of Christ’s presence and judgment.  Some call this the last judgment. It’s a point in time in the future, maybe something I’ll experience and maybe not. And given where I am in this living world, I can only believe or trust that this moment of meeting Christ will happen, and judgment occurs.  Because I don’t know when it will happen, I don’t know how to prepare. The reading from Thessalonians speaks to this point. “The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night”.  We are encouraged to keep awake! 

The second understanding is that we will meet Christ face to face at the moment when we die. At commemorations for the dead, we pray, “For us faithful people, life is changed, not ended”.  Some call this the particular judgment.  Having recently sat with my father-in-law as he died, I absolutely believe his life was changed and not ended, and he had some sort of personal account with God, at his death.  It’s a point in time in the future, but something I’ll absolutely experience. And given where I am in this living world, I can only believe or trust that this moment of meeting Christ happens, and judgment occurs. I don’t know when that moment will occur, but I know that it will.  It’s still hard to prepare.

The final understanding is more imminent and more earthly.  We pray weekly, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven”.  And in our baptismal covenant, we commit to seek and serve Christ in all people. In this final understanding of meeting Christ and judgment, we meet Christ in others in our daily world, dozens of times each day.  This understanding of meeting Christ, I absolutely understand, and will encounter.

Just as in the final judgment at the end of time and at the time of our death, we are judged in these encounters, in our daily world. In next week’s Gospel we hear Christ say, when I was hungry you gave me food, when I was a stranger, you welcomed me.  But when did I see you hungry, or the stranger?  Just as you did it to the least of those who are my family, you did it for me. 

We meet Christ.  We are judged.   Every day.  Eschatology. 

I cannot know about what will happen when you or I die. What we’ll see, or what that judgment moment looks like. I cannot know about Christ’s eventual return to Earth. But I do know about meeting the stranger, the hungry, the poor, the prisoner. But I do know how to serve Christ every day.  I know how to help bring thy kingdom come.  To be clear, I’m not suggesting that I do it successfully all the time, but it’s not foreign, or distant, or unknown.  I do firmly believe Christ is in others, and that daily, I am called to seek and serve that holy Christ in all others.

If I live like that, with ultimate trust in God, and seeking to serve Christ every day, striving to make thy kingdom come, I have a better chance of being judged as a good and faithful servant, both today, and at the ultimate end. 

This is how I think we prepare for that judgment.  In today’s encounters, because ultimately, our life is nothing but a collection of individual days lived, people loved, and Christ served.

Amen.

Proper 15A - Search Yourself, Speak Up, Talk Together

Today’s Gospel reading is an interesting mix of two seeming disparate bits of “good news”. First we have the simple story of Jesus explaining food and holiness to the disciples. He says that unlike what the Pharisees profess, it’s not what goes into the mouth that defiles. It’s not the ritual food rules that makes one Holy or not. It’s not what goes in the body that matters. He continues that it’s what comes out of the body that really matters. What comes out is what can defile. Our words, our actions, murder, adultery, false witness – this is what can defile. More than just our words and actions, our mere intentions can defile. Our evil intentions. Stop worrying about defiling yourself by eating this or that. Rather, pay attention to those things that come out of your mouth, that sit in your heart.

This makes sense. Be defiled based on what you do and say and think, rather than being defiled by what you eat or drink.

After having had to again explain himself to his disciples regarding the what goes in to the body, Jesus travels to Tyre and Sidon. A woman from the region comes out and shouts, “Have mercy on me Lord, son of David,” and she explains that her daughter is tormented by a demon. Jesus does not respond to her, and after that lukewarm reception, the disciples, showing great love and compassion urge Jesus to send her away because she’d been yelling at them, been bothering them.

Then the unnamed woman and Jesus have this really interesting and perplexing conversation, that goes something like this:

Woman: Jesus, help my daughter.

Jesus: But I came to save the house of Israel, not you!

Woman: Jesus, help my daughter.

Jesus: But I shouldn’t give the children’s food to the dogs!

Woman: But even the dogs get the crumbs under the table.

While the story ends on a higher note, up to this point, it’s not portraying any of the normal Gospel characters in a particularly good way. There is a lot of speculation and supposition about what this interchange means, and what it implies about Jesus. And as a fair warning, I’m going to raise a bunch of these questions, with no intention of answering them.

What does it mean that the daughter was tormented by demons? Real demons?  Horned devils?  Maybe was it mental illness. Is Jesus likening this woman to a dog? Maybe it was just a puppy.   And why did he refuse to assist her? Was it because she was a woman? A foreigner?  A non-Jew? Was Jesus just testing her? Some mental banter after having to repeatedly explain things to his disciples? Was Jesus just tired? Tired of stupid people? Tired of needy people?  Seeing if she’d go away and leave him alone?

As I said, I’ve no intention of answering those questions. First of all, I don’t know the answer, and more important, I don’t think any of it really matters. What does matter is that after being asked repeatedly, Jesus seemingly concedes, and responds that the woman’s faith has healed her daughter.

When I read the Gospel, when I pray over scripture, I frequently put myself in the story. I’m in the scene. I find that I get a deeper understanding of Jesus and of me, when I imagine that I’m in the story. For example, I’m watching Jesus explain that it’s what’s in the heart and comes out of the mouth that matters.

But the story of the Canaanite woman is different. I’m not eager to put myself in the place of the unnamed woman. I don’t want to envision God ignoring my plea. I don’t want to think about Jesus’ followers suggesting I should be sent away because I’m pestering them. I don’t want Jesus to argue with me that he didn’t come to save me. I get exhausted thinking about having to make this persistent plea, about repeatedly asking for help. I don’t even want to watch this exchange.

But after thinking long and hard, I think there is good news here, in precisely what I don’t want to see. Sometimes it is exhausting to appeal to Jesus. Isn’t that somehow how our prayer life with Jesus is?  Don’t we sometimes pray to Jesus and we don’t get an answer? Never have I prayed and immediately received divine intervention such as, “You betcha, Carter. I’m on it right now!”  But we continue to pray because that’s what we do. Jesus hears it all, just like he heard the woman. If it doesn’t seem like Jesus is responding to your prayer, pray again. And again.

We can see more good news if we look at how Jesus responds after his disciples chimed in. In response to her initial plea, Jesus’ disciples wanted Jesus to send her away because she was yelling. She was making a scene, making demands, different from them. They appeal to Jesus that he should send her away. I’ve been in situations where I’ve made a scene. Where I’ve made demands. Where I was different. Where the system, the institutional Jesus followers wanted Jesus to send me away. But Jesus did not send her away, and he did not send me away. There are times when, in our appeal to do the right thing, the institution, other Christians, other people of faith, are uncomfortable, and want to send us away. But not Jesus. If Jesus’ own disciples could not convince Jesus to turn this woman away, no one should be able dissuade us from appealing to Jesus.

The last bit of goodness I can glean from this part of the story has to do with the iterative nature of her petition and Jesus’ response. To be honest, I don’t want to argue with Jesus, and I don’t want to have to be persistent. I want my way. I want my prayers answered when I initially ask, in the manner I initially ask. But from this story, we see that sometimes prayer and petitions are iterative – we have a conversation with Jesus and in the dialogue there is movement. We learn from this story that we need to be persistent in our petition and prayer.

The woman overcame four distinct difficult roadblocks that could have deterred many – probably would have deterred me. First, Jesus ignores here. Second, the disciples suggest that she be sent away. Third, Jesus says he didn’t come to save her, and finally, Jesus makes his comment about giving food to the dogs. She persists through all four of these roadblocks. And in return, Jesus commends her faith and heals her daughter.

This Gospel tells us to persist. To pray, and pray again, and again, and again. To be persistent despite criticism or discouragement from institutional insiders. Jesus won’t send you away. Jesus won’t ignore you. God’s response may be different, or later than you expected, but you are not ignored and should not give up.

Today is my first Sunday with you good people of St. Matthew’s. As a deacon, I am called to bring the needs of the world to the church, and bring the church out into the world to meet those needs. I have a priest friend who said that if deacons had a motto it would be that they comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. There is rarely a scripture reading that I don’t see this as evident – identifying the needs of the world, and bringing the church out to meet them. Today is no different.

This unnamed Canaanite woman was not praying on her own behalf. She was not persistent because she needed something. She was persistent because of the needs of someone else. This week, I believe we have seen that our petitions, prayers and voices are needed around the issues of race, extremism, and violence.

Today’s readings outline a vision for the world God intends. A place where we do what is just and right, where God’s house is a house of prayer for all people, where God’s gifts are irrevocable, where prayer and petition on behalf of others is met with God’s grace. But this past week doesn’t feel like that place. The horrific events in Charlottesville, or the terrorist attacks in Barcelona Thursday, or the terrorist attack in Ouagadougou in western Africa last Sunday that killed 20. These attacks come from the defiled and hate-filled hearts of religious and racial extremists.

It’s easy, more comfortable and convenient to distance ourselves from these hateful evil intentions and places. These events happened on other continents, with people different from me, from white supremacists on the other side of the country. But even though that’s all true, it’s also true that God’s house is a house of prayer for all people, and we, God’s people, are called to prayer, petition and action.

To be clear, racism and religious intolerance is a problem in our entire nation, and in our community. In Eugene, there have been more hate crimes reported through July 2017 than all of 2016, and this doesn’t consider hateful speech which is largely protected. Crimes committed motivated by racial or religious intolerance or hatred happen in our community. If you do not fear for your safety or the safety of your family, you are not having the same experience as people in our community who are targeted by racial or religious intolerance.

What to do??

First of all, we need to acknowledge that we all have bias. We all jump to conclusions based on someone else’s race, religion, orientation. To be clear, bias is not a problem because it is universal. It is a human condition and it exists in all of our hearts. It becomes a problem when our individual bias is unchecked or unknown, and results prejudice or hate. When it results in defiled actions or speech to come out of our mouths and hearts. We cannot prevent those unclean, unholy words and actions from happening, if we are not honest with ourselves about the bias in our hearts. Start there.

Second, like the Canaanite woman, we need to speak up and speak out when we see or hear hate or bias. You may think it’s not your business to jump in, but it is and here’s why.

For those of you who have had children or cared for other people’s children, those loving children don’t always behave perfectly. When they’re ill-behaved, you correct the behavior, lest they believe their behavior is acceptable. To remain silent now, in both big and little ways, allows hate to continue unchecked. It allows the ill-behaved child of God to believe their actions are acceptable. We are all children of God, and we need to help those in need, those who are persecuted or subject to hateful speech or actions, and we need to help correct the behavior of ill-behaved children of God, especially if they are unaware of the impact of their behavior and actions.

Finally, and here’s a collective call to action, we need to be in conversation with each other about our individual and collective bias, about our concepts of race and religion, about how to be a house of prayer for all people. From that place of solid, loving community, we can continue to have conversations in our wider community. Talk to our neighbors, get to know faith communities that look and worship differently than we do. I’m not exactly sure what this looks like, but I know conversation is key. I invite you to pray and talk with me later if this is something that piques your interest.

God, grant us the grace and strength to persist. To only speak love and light, to call out when others are speaking or acting from a place of hatred in their hearts. To fearlessly search our own hearts for any bias and evil intentions. And help us to learn to be that house of prayer for all people, where those who are cast out are gathered and loved in your community. All this we pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.