Pentecost 12 8.15.10

+Today’s Gospel isn’t light reading is it? There’s a lot of violent and disturbing imagery in it. At this stage of Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is pretty riled up—he seems fed up with his disciples, disgusted with his followers and ready to chuck it all.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus seems really human. And that, to me, is wonderful.

The fact that Jesus is God incarnate---God in the flesh---is an absolute cornerstone of our faith. We embrace Jesus the man, born of Mary AND Christ the Son of God as two sides of the same being. While this seeming contradiction----being fully human and fully divine----is fundamental to our faith… have you ever stopped to think about how it must have been for Jesus?

How did he balance being fully of God and fully of Mary----how did he balance what he knew as divine and what he felt as human? If Jesus was fully human---and he was---then he went through the same developmental milestones we all do. He learned to recognize his parents, his siblings, other close relatives, he probably even developed separation anxiety when Mary first needed to leave him….he learned to crawl and to talk and to walk….he grew up like we all do….through trial and error…. fits and starts.

While we know very little about Jesus’ childhood and adolescence we get a couple of glimpses ----his being left behind in the temple when he was 12 and the wedding at Cana--- which show that Jesus was, as far as we know, a fairly normal boy---who, as he grew, began to test the limits of his parents. At times he drove them nuts and at times he was positive they didn’t understand him. Yes, my guess is Jesus went through the same growing pains we all do…but…….

how much did he know about who he really was?

Many suggest that Jesus came to terms with his identity as the Son of God and the son of Mary slowly over time, with full comprehension of just who he was and what would happen to him occurring at the Transfiguration---that time when along with Peter John and James, Jesus encountered Moses and Elijah on the mountaintop. Recent scholarship makes a very strong argument that Jesus, when he Elijah and Moses are enveloped in the cloud, grasps the full magnitude of his mission. That it’s on the mountaintop when Jesus realizes that his message of peace and love was going to be met with fierce and violent opposition and that he would need to fall victim to that violence to fully complete his earthly task…..

Such a realization would make anyone a little on edge….

And Jesus, increasingly throughout Luke’s Gospel, becomes a little more edgy. Jesus’ intensity increases following the transfiguration---he appears much more intent on getting to Jerusalem, he seems much less patient with his followers, he seems much more urgent and harsh in his movements and his message.

So today we encounter a Jesus who realizes that his time is short and that his task is immense. Today we encounter a Jesus who has finally come to grips with his identity and doesn’t understand why his followers don’t get it---today we encounter a man who is having a bit of an identity crisis.

He was anxious, he was stressed …..he was being very human…and if we really believe what we say we believe---that Jesus is the Son of God, born of a human woman, fully human and fully divine…. then we should embrace this Gospel, difficult as it is to hear---not because we want families to be torn apart, not because we support some reign of terror to accompany the end times---but because God so loved us, he came to walk among us, to grow among us and to dies among so that, once and for all we’d know---really know—that we’re never alone.

That’s the purpose of the gospels---this collection of stories, parables and teachings--- proof that we are loved beyond all reason. And that’s good, because being a Christian, as outlined by these same Gospels, isn’t easy.

Discomfort is a big part of Christianity….it is uncomfortable to stand up for what is right when it isn’t popular, it is uncomfortable to raise your pledge when the economy is so volatile it’s uncomfortable to pray for the people you don’t like, the people who wish us harm, the people it would be so much easier to hate.

Christianity, with it’s clear and non negotiable message of peace and justice for all, demands that we challenge the status quo when that status quo impedes any human being from living life on an equal footing with everyone else, it demands that when we know of injustice we do something to stop it, it demands that when everyone shrugs their shoulders and says, “that’s the way it has always been” we say, “no no that’s not acceptable, there’s another way.” Christianity demands that we be the pain in the patoot to the world. Christianity demands that we make ourselves and other people uncomfortable as long as inequality and injustice exists on earth.

It isn’t easy. And in today’s Gospel Jesus is telling us that being faithful can be very messy, very frustrating, very infuriating and at times pretty darn hard.

But, because ours is an incarnational faith, because we know that God came to live among us, as one of us in the person of Jesus Christ, we also know that, as we stand up for what is right and just, as we fight the good fight against violence and evil, degradation and despair, we are not alone…

…no matter who might abandon us along the way, no matter who may disagree with what we believe, we are never alone. We never have been and we never will be.

Because God has been where we are, and then some. Because God, given to us in the person of Jesus Christ knows how hard it is, because he has felt the anger the loneliness and the terror which is part of our human condition this Gospel today offers us Good News. Good News that although being a Christian may not be easy, and it may not be popular and it may not always feel good, it’s never ever lonely. And for that we can all say, Amen.

+

Pentecost 11 Proper 14 Yr C

Today’s Gospel has caused me fits all week. I couldn’t reconcile the loving message of “Do not be afraid little flock” with the end times apocalyptic imagery of “be ready for you never know when the Son of Man will come.” I just couldn’t figure out how “not worrying” could mesh with “be wary, the end is near.”

But then, a bat flew into my bedroom in the rectory.

Now it’s not unusual to have a bat in an old house…however, I have an unnatural terror of anything bigger than a fly flapping their wings near me… especially inside my house….A bat and me in the bedroom was terrifying, and as a result I spent a good portion of this week being very distracted. I wasn’t ready for anything except worry.

My worry and my obsession became so acute that I wasn’t living the life I normally do. I wasn’rtwasn’t taking the time to pray, I wasn’t taking the time to exercise, I asn’twasn’t taking the time to sleep. My priorioties, because of my worry, got all messed up.

And then, late on Friday night, it hit me---“this the point of today’s readings---worrying, fretting and obsessiong about things shows a tremnendous lack of faith.”

Faith is an elusive concept…it’s next to impossible to explain to someone who doesn’t have it and it is almost impossible to acquire through shear will and determination. Faith develops over time. It’s a give and take relationship between each of us and God. We give a little and God gives a little and pretty soon we’re engaged in a dance with God, we let go of something—usually worry, control or doubt--making room for more of God’s grace to seep into our daily lives.

Faith is a beautiful every changing thing….it’s wonderful when we feel full of it and it’s terrible when we feel devoid of it.

As I fretted about when and how that bat got into the house, as I worried that another bat may get into the house, I was devoid of faith. When I worried about the bat, I didn’t reach out and love my neighbor. When I obsessed about how terrified I was when the bat was swooping across the room, I wasn’t thanking God for the fact that I have a roof over my head, a roof that could also house a bat. When I was worried sick about that bloody bat I wasn’t at peace.

Peace is that space when we finally stop struggling, stop fighting. Peace is the space in which our faith lives.

It’s easy to think that peace is a God thing….but sometimes I wonder if peace instead is really an us thing. God’s peace is always with us, we just fail to notice a lot of the time.

God is Peace. When we’re distracted and worried we push that Peace, which is God, out of our consciousness And end up, much like the Israelites in today’s reading from Isaiah, forgetting to “do good, seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan and plead for the widow.” In other words, when we disrupt God’s peace, we don’t love our neighbor. When we disrupt God’s peace, we aren’t being faithful.

In our epistle from Hebrews the author reminds us that Abraham and Sarah had faith beyond all reason--- their ability to laugh at the absurdity of God’s promise of pregnancy at their advanced age, suggests a peace in their core, a peace which allowed them to toss their heads back and laugh at God’s gift….sure they worried and had their moments of doubt, but at their core Sarah and Abraham said, ok God, whatever you say. They may have been incredulous, they may have thought, “this is ridiculous” BUT they walked in the Peace of God, instead of running from it…

Instead of being ruled by fear, they allowed God’s good pleasure to take hold.

In the Gospel Jesus is telling us not to worry, to let God have God’s way with us, for if we do that, if we keep God uppermost in our hearts and minds then it is God’s great pleasure to lavish us with great joy—with the Peace and Love of God, the Peace and Love which is God.

The Gospel lessons of the past few weeks have been clear about one thing:

The distractions of life---worries about money, worries about legacy, worries about status, worries about bats, are all diversions designed to keep us in charge instead of God. And when we put ourselves ahead of God, when we cover that peace which is God with our doubts and our fears we become a “faithless generation.” When we shroud the peace and love --which is God--- with our own despair and fretting, we are turning our back on our Creator’s good pleasure.

When we fail to trust in God, when we forget to have faith, when we feel that having faith is just too risky, then we are denying the legacy of all who have walked this earth before us. We are denying the faithfulness of Abraham and Sarah, of Moses and Miriam, of Mary and Joseph.

Of course we need to be responsible and prudent, but when the due diligence of our daily lives becomes the driving force of our existence—then we are in trouble. For it is God’s great pleasure to see us toss our heads back and laugh at the fact that sometimes life doesn’t go as we plan, sometimes we have bats in our bedrooms and sometimes we have worry in our hearts.

In spite of whatever distraction life presents to us, our Creator God’s greatest pleasure is to give us the Kingdom---a place overflowing with peace and joy.

And maybe even a few bats. +

Pentecost 10, Proper 13 Aug 1, 2010

+Today’s gospel is known as the Parable of the Rich Fool. It could just as easily be called the parable of the poor fool. For Jesus is saying that the things we hold onto—be it possessions, beliefs, fears or worry---is what keeps us from God. The rich fool has all that he could possibly need, and then some, yet all he can think about is holding onto it—and it is in the holding on that Jesus takes issue. For, as he says at the end of this reading, those who store up treasures for themselves are not rich toward God.”

I’m intrigued by that phrase: Rich Toward God.

What does it mean to be rich toward God? Or, for that matter, what does it mean to be poor toward God?

In the modern language translation of the bible, Eugene Peterson’s “The Message,” the end of today’s gospel is translated: “that’s what happens when you fill your barn with ‘self’ and not God.”

The rich fool built bigger and bigger barns to hold his treasure, and the bigger the barn, the farther away from God he became. He filled his barn with self instead of God.

How do we fill the barns of our lives with self and not with God?

On Friday the Today show ran a feature on reclusive heiress Hugette Clark . The story described all the mansions she owns and how she, for the past 50 years, hasn’t lived in any of them. She’s still alive, she just isn’t enjoying all she has acquired. This woman who had treasure upon treasure piled high in the barns of her life is, at age 104, living in a drab hospital room without the slightest hint of luxury.

I don’t know all the details, but this woman sounds like someone who has found out that filling your barn with self instead of God can leave you alone and despairing.

But filling our barns with self instead of God isn’t just a rich person’s problem.

While abundance certainly can distract us from God, so can scarcity.

Not having enough can turn us away from God just as quickly as greed. On that same episode of the Today show was a segment on student loan debt and how, according to Suze Orman, student loan defaults will end up being the next big financial crisis in the United States. Debt—be it school loans, credit cards, second mortgages---fills many of our barns, blocking the way of God.

It’s terrifying when the money we thought would be there isn’t.

It’s awful when the red ink in our budget over-runs the black.

And it’s as easy to let that fear fill up our barns as it was for Hugette Clark or the Rich Fool to let greed fill up theirs.

We can read this gospel as Jesus railing against wealth, another bible story designed to make us feel guilty for having things, guilty for not giving more of it away…but that’s not it at all. Jesus didn’t hate money. He just disliked what money did to people.

Jesus knew that money causes many of us to become poor toward God.

Most of us don’t have nearly as much as we did a few years ago. Some of us sitting here today may be on the brink of becoming upside down in our debt, some of us may already be there, others of us are terrified of ending up there.

AND, the sad thing is, we don’t talk about it. We don’t share these burdens with one another---we just carry on as if everything is just fine.

We fill our barns with shame, blocking the way toward God.

That my friends, is NOT being rich toward God. That, is being poor toward God.

Have you ever had a loved one who has been distracted for a long time—different, pre-occupied, worried? Finally they share with you what has been going on-- a burden which they have carried alone for days, weeks maybe even months? Isn’t your first reaction to say, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything? I would have helped. Inevitably they respond, “well I didn’t want to worry you. Burden you, bring you down. “

While that is a sweet sentiment I often finds it hurtful. Because, when you love someone you love them for who they are ---for all that they are and all that have---the good and the bad, abundance and scarcity, profit and loss.

God is no different. God wants us –God NEEDS us to share it all. When we hold back from sharing our joys and our sorrows, we are poor toward God. When we hide behind abundance or scarcity, our barns become full of us, instead of God.

God wants us to share our wealth---yes---but God also wants us to share our debts, our worries and our fears. For it is only when we give all of ourselves to God---the good the bad and the ugly—that we can truly experience the full measure of God’s love.

This parable isn’t about the evils of having too much wealth or too much debt. It’s about turning away when we should be turning toward. It’s about distraction, its’ about all the stuff which keeps us from love of God and love of neighbor. This whole section of Luke’s Gospel—what we’ve been reading for the past month, is about what God wants us to value. It’s written to teach us that whether we have much in the way of money or little, whether we have a lot in the way of debt or none---God doesn’t care, as long as we bring all of it---the joy of abundance as well as the sorrow of scarcity---to the altar---where, when we truly lay ourselves bare, our barns will be transformed from shelters of isolation and despair into communities of grace and love, where we rejoice in the abundance of all God has given. +