Gospel text for 2 December 2012

 Luke 21:25-36       Jesus said, "There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

"Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man."

Reflection           Pothos (longing) and Himeros (desire) were sons of the Greek God Eros (love). Whereas Himeros desired that which is humanly possible to acquire, Pothos longed for that which is beyond human reach. As we enter this Advent season of anticipation and expectation I find myself standing between the brothers Pothos and Himeros. I desire the things of the world be made well, I long for union in my God, and I wonder if either is possible? But as I look around and see wars exploding across the globe, economies faltering, pillars of society falling; as I experience my neighbor’s fear and my own trepidation, Jesus’ warning to , “be on guard...not let your heart be weighed down,” cuts to my core, it rings true. With Pothos on my right side and Himeros on my left I must “stand up and raise my head.” I dare not fear that my desire and longing will not be satisfied. 

When in all of history have human lives not been fraught with times of trial? Not a single epoch I’ve read about lacks the “distress among nations,” and “people fainting from fear and foreboding” that Jesus talks about. I guess that’s why Jesus taught his friends (and us) to pray.... “save us from the times of trial.” It seems the inevitable earthly times of trial are the very ground from which springs our desire for a more whole and holy world. When all the signs point to a world shaken and in distress, we are to turn around, “to stand before the Son of Man,” the only One who may satisfy the deepest longing of our souls. We are to pray, to stay in relationship with God.

On the subject of desire, longing and prayers St. Augustine wrote, “Thy desire is thy prayers; and if thy desire is without ceasing, thy prayer will also be without ceasing. The continuance of your longing is the continuance of your prayer.”

Advent is a season of desire and longing, longing for what is and for what is to come. Perhaps another way to say that is, Advent is a season of preparing our hearts with prayer to receive what is and what is to come.

Image above is skopas' Pothos; the lyre is a modern addition, the head - with the features of Alexander - is an ancient restoration (Archaeological Museum of Naples)

Gospel text for Sunday, 18 November 2012

                               

Mark 13:1-8      As Jesus came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!" Then Jesus asked him, "Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down."

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, "Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?" Then Jesus began to say to them, "Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, `I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs."

Reflection   A little more than three weeks ago the news was flodded with images of Hurricane Sandy’s effects . But when I saw one photographer’s still photo of New York’s shadowy skyline it stole my breath, and like NYC I was stopped in my tracks. This grand edifice, the economic center of the world, a beacon of Western civilization and culture, stuttered in shades of pale and grey. From Staten Island to Yonkers the lights were out. The great buildings were dark. Jesus’ words echoed in my heart, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left upon another...” But is that the end of the story? I don’t think so. 

Jesus said, “This is but he beginning of the birthpangs.” This is not the end. It is meaningful anguish and suffering. It is productive labor. And this is a lynchin of Christian faith. We understand that anguish and suffering need not be pointless or futile. In God’s economy anguish and suffering are the productive labor that leads to new life. But what are we to do?

I imagine that is the very question millions of folks in the northeast were, and still are, asking. What are we to do in the wake of hurricane Sandy? And they dug in. Shoveling away tons of sand, cutting up fallen trees, inviting strangers into their homes, feeding them, giving them clothes and a warm dry place to stay. Because anguish and suffering are not the end. They are the beginning of productive labor.

Since the Age of the Enlightenment western civilization has elevated the status of the individual, individual rights, privilege and entitlement. We’ve all heard the mantra, “It’s all about me.” In the wake of a storm such as Sandy those words dissolve like dust in a hurricane as millions of people are stopped in their tracks with the realization that, “It’s all about US. Not only are we inextricably interconnected, we are also utterly interdependent.” Of course some people take more kindly to the news than others, but none can escape the fact. We are in this thing, this life, together.

The blistering winds and raging waters of hurricane Sandy were the beginning of the birthpangs, the productive labor that gave birth to kindness and generosity among strangers, to mass efforts to kindle new light and life in the midst of anguish, suffering and loss. Now, if only we would not forget and would continue to live our lives “provok(ing) one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together... and encouraging one another.”

Gospel Test for Sunday 11 November 2012

Mark 12:38-44       Teaching in the temple, Jesus said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation."

He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."

Reflection

Wow! Jesus is bold. While standing in the temple and teaching he publicly insults the scribes, the very people whose job is to record and sustain temple tradition. He accuses them of being hypocrites, taking money from the most vulnerable (widows) who are required to pay for prayers and using that money to elevate their position of honor. It makes me think of a true story Bishop Kirk Smith told last Sunday during his stewardship sermon. I shall paraphrase.

When parishioners were invited to respond to God’s generosity in their offerings of financial pledges one man told the priest that his economic situation was difficult, that he did not have enough, and he would not be able to make a pledge that year. A week or so later the man bought a  pair of “his and her" mercedes for his wife and himself. The thing is, as I thought about the story it occurred to me that the person in Bishop Smith’s story who was the most vulnerable, the most spiritually impoverished was the man with two mercedes. 

I am willing to speculate that no matter how much he had, the man with two mercedes did not believe he had enough. The man with two mercedes had no idea that everything he had was gift - every breath, every beat of his heart, every stitch of clothes, every cent of his wealth. I believe the man with two mercedes was telling the priest his truth when he told the priest that he did not have enough. He did not have enough gratitude for the abundance in his life. He did not have enough humility to know that all that he had was gift. He did not have enough faith to know that the God who had provided for him would continue to do so. Much like the scribes in Jesus’ parable who fluanted their long robes and took the took the seats of honor, the man with two mercedes flaunted his riches and exposed his spiritual impoverishment. 

Gospel text for Feast of All Saints Sunday 4 November 2012

John 11.32-44

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, "Where have you laid him?" They said to him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!" But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?"

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, "Take away the stone." Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, "Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days." Jesus said to her, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?" So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, "Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me." When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Reflection

We preach this gospel in Lent. We preach this gospel at funerals. One of the reasons we preach this gospel is because it speaks to our grieving hearts when we have lost our physical relationship with someone we love because of illness, change in life situation or death. We preach this gospel not only to affirm that loving and weeping are integral qualities of the human experience but also to proclaim  that loving and weeping are fundamental revelations of Divine Presence.

When Jesus saw Mary and the Jews weeping, “he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” and he too began to weep. Jesus, the Word made flesh, the revelation of God present with us and for us, is united with us, with all of humanity, in our quintessential experiences of love and grief. Jesus personally experienced both the fullness of love and the emptiness of grief and was “deeply moved” as he shared these experineces with Mary and the others who were present at Lazarus’ tomb. And so Jesus reveals to us three things about grief. It is personal. It is universal. It is Divine. 

The thing about grief is that it feels so lonely. Emptiness and loss abound. Other people’s words and presence seem hollow and pointless. It is as if we are floundering in an ocean with no land in sight. All that we can do is weep. And, it is in our weeping that we are united with all of humanity and with God. In the depths of our desolation there is an unexpected seed of consolation. Sometimes we recognize it in the teary eyes of a friend come to sit with us in our sorrow. Sometimes we hear it in the words of a prayer offered to God on our behalf. Sometimes we feel it in the warmth of hands laid on our shoulders. However we may glimpse it, when we allow ourselves to be “deeply moved” we are intimately connected with all of humanity and with God. And when in the midst of our grieving we believe God is indeed present with us then like Lazarus we too are unbound and set free from the tomb of our isolation.

Gospel text Sunday 28 October 2012

Mark 10:46-52      Jesus and his disciples came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" Jesus stood still and said, "Call him here." And they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you." So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again." Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.

Reflection                                                                                              Have you ever felt restless or apprehensive, that things were just not right? A bit off center, uneasy, unclear making it hard to stand up and move on? I certainly have and I experience it as a kind of spiritual blindness. Although I have eyes to see the world around me, somehow I do not understand what is going on. I am spiritualy blind. In my blindness the best I can do is sit at the side of the road not sure which way to go. In the absence of self understanding where can I possibly go? When I do try to move I falter and stumble because, though I have eyes, I do not see. What is this unsettling mystery that is so difficult for me and the disciples in Mark’s gospel to see?

I believe this may have something to do with why the writer of Mark’s gospel tells the stories of  the blind man in Bethsaida and blind Bartimaeus and places them like bookends before the first and following the third time Jesus predicts his suffering, death and resurrection. The thing is, who can understand the mystery of Jesus, fully human and fully divine? Who can understand the mystery of a messiah whose glory is born in his consent to drink the cup of suffering and death? Who can understand the message that the last shall be first and the least shall be greatest? How can I follow Jesus if I am blind and do not understand? 

The best I can muster is joining blind Bartimaeus shouting, “Lord have mercy on me! I don’t understand and I don’t know which way to go. I am sitting on the curb watching life pass by because if I stand in my own power I will stumble and fall. Teacher, have mercy on me. Please call me and show me which way to go.”

Maybe it is all in that one word, teacher. When I call out asking for  the teacher’s mercy I am admitting that I do not know. I am making myself least in the relationship. From the position of open, empty receptivity I am ready and waiting for the teacher to pass by and call me. I am not so full of my self or my plans that I cannot see or hear the teacher call. That’s where I am today. Sitting on the curb with blind Bartimaeus. Though I am still uneasy I sit in faith with hope that the teacher will call, restore my sight and  show me the way.

Mark 10:35-45

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to Jesus and said to him, "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." And he said to them, "What is it you want me to do for you?" And they said to him, "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory." But Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" They replied, "We are able." Then Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared."

When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. So Jesus called them and said to them, "You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many."

Reflection       During this season of lobbying and campaigning, the presidential 'race' to win the November election, it is easy to imagine life two thousand years ago, not much different from today, as James and John strive for power and prestige by attempting to ally  themselves with the man they experience in charge. No doubt they saw Jesus as the proverbial ‘man of the hour,’ and conspired to leap to the top of the pack of twelve disciples and sit in places of honor, right next to Jesus. Jesus sees right through their ploy. James and John are interested in securing their advantage. Though they call Jesus “teacher” they are not getting Jesus’ message of the upside down kingdom of God. They are reacting in the same old status quo way, the race to the top.

So Jesus reminds them, “Whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” This is not conventional wisdom, it is not the way the world proceeds then or now. Jesus’ wisdom breeches the status quo. Poor James and John are still striving for power over others, they desire to become great. Their tactics are not lost on the other ten disciples. Their peers are angry because they too see the situation through the common lens of personal gain. Can’t you just hear them muttering, “Who do James and John think they are trying to get ahead of us?”

Essentially Jesus says, drink the cup and pick up the cross of suffering. Life as a real human being is not a race to the top where you get to exert your power over others. Life as a real human being is about serving others, giving your life for the benefit of others. And yes, that means you will be swimming against the tide. People will misunderstand you, even persecute you. That’s what the cup and the cross are about.

It reminds me of a fifth grade civics lesson. Our teacher told us about servant leadership, about people who set aside their desire for money and power in order to run for public office. (As I recall my young friends and I were shocked to learn that the president of the United States didn’t earn anywhere near the money they would in the private sector). Our teacher put teachers and mayors, senators and presidents in the category of servant leaders. She told us that rather than using their positions for personal gain servant leaders make decisions to build community. They lead for the greatest common good, for the stewardship of resources to benefit all.  She told us that personal sacrifice is what sets true leaders apart. “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant.”

Hoping to identify the characteristics that distinguish servant leaders I went to wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Servant_leadership Their list begins with listening, then follows healing, awareness, persuasion, conceptualization, foresight, stewardship, commitment to the growth of others and building community. Perhaps these are the qualities we ought to consider when choosing our next servant leader to serve the people of these United States. 

**The image above is of Ghandi leading the Salt March to the sea in 1930.

Gospel Text for Sunday 7 October, 2012

Mark 10:2-16        Some Pharisees came, and to test Jesus they asked, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?" He answered them, "What did Moses command you?" They said, "Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her." But Jesus said to them, "Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. But from the beginning of creation, 'God made them male and female.' 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate."

 Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, "Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery."

 People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.

Reflection

It is interesting to me that when I read the Gospel of Mark, generally  I relate to the stories and parables allegorically, as texts pointing beyond themselves. So I surprise myself when I read this text and find myself responding in a most literal (O.K. be honest – defensive) manner. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I was divorced and I have had too many birthdays to call myself a child.

Still, I do not believe that the writer of Mark’s gospel intends for us readers to sink into discussions of acceptable versus unacceptable grounds for divorce or property or custody agreements. At every turn the gospel invites us to look beyond superficial details and discover Divine Intention.  So what are the jewels hidden in this text? What does it have to say to me, a single person who once upon a time was married? What does it say to me who once upon a time was a child? When I look at marriage and childhood as pointing to spiritual truths that lie beyond themselves I begin to glean some meaning and relevance for my life.

A fundamental truth that Jesus articulates regarding marriage is “the two shall become one flesh.” In other words, what once was separated is now united. According to the writer of John’s gospel Jesus says, “I and the Father are one, “ (John 10.30) and later expands his message of union and unity when he says, “In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.” (John 14.20) In God’s economy, in the realm of the Spirit, God intends that we all are one. Paul explains this in his letter to the Romans, “…  so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” (Rom 12:5). Our journey of faith is an inclusive adventure during which we discover that our deepest meaning and value, the revelation of each of our individual truest selves, is revealed in the network of connections between us and all of God’s creatures. We are one in the interconnected web of being. We are fundamentally joined; to behave otherwise (to divorce ourselves one from another) is to turn away from God.

 And that I believe is something children know instinctively. Children know they are connected. They know they are vulnerable and dependent upon others. And we adults are to receive one another “as a little child,” acknowledging our interdependence, full of hope and wonder, and we will be blessed.