The Rockiness of our Faith doesn't Phase God

+The Rev’d Dr. Delmer Chilton, a Lutheran pastor and author refers to the Peter of today’s Gospel as Rocky, stating:

Why [did] Jesus decide to give Simon-Bar-Jona the nickname Rocky... that’s what the name Peter means…. It comes from “petra” Latin for rock or stone…Most of the time people who are nicknamed Rocky are stalwart, unmovable, straight-ahead, no-nonsense kind of guys, like Rocky Balboa. Somehow the name Rocky doesn’t seem to fit Simon son of Jona. For this Rocky, this Peter, was, to [be blunt], not very dependable… hot one minute, cold the next:

I’ll walk on water, Lord. Then Oops, help, I’m drowning!

I’ll never let them take you Lord, give me that Sword. Then Jesus? Never heard of him.

Lord, I’ll stand by you forever. Then Well, Jesus is dead, I’m going fishing.

Was Jesus making fun of Simon by calling him Peter?

Was Jesus joking when he said that on this rock of questioning, unstable, doubting and undependable faith I will build my church?

Why would Jesus choose someone so flawed, someone so irritable, undependable, doubting, questioning, fearful and full of angst as Simon Peter? Someone so……….

Like us? Shouldn’t the foundation of the church, the foundation of God’s reign in this world be entrusted to someone more deserving, more capable, more reliable?

Apparently not.

You see, God rarely chooses the all put together and the likely. Consider Abraham and Sarah, the parents of our faith—an aged, childless pair who doubted, scoffed and laughed at God.

Then there’s Moses….an abandoned Levite child raised in Pharaoh’s household, chosen to lead his enslaved kindred out of slavery, into a land of milk and honey. But nothing went smoothly for Moses as , over the next forty years, he stumbled and stammered his way in and out of favor with the Israelites and God.

But God hung in there and Moses is held in high esteem by Jews, Christians and Muslims alike. Abraham, Sarah, Moses, along with countless other flawed and very human humans were all prophets. Apparently, in God’s eyes, one needn’t be perfect, one needn’t even be particularly capable, to be chose. God plucks prophets, redeemers and saints --even a messiah---out of the unlikely of places, unusual of circumstances. Who can forget the details of Jesus’ birth--a peasant girl and her stalwart partner Joseph struggling to find any place to lay their heads—ending up in a barn alongside donkeys, cows, sheep, hay and that crazy star.

So why not Simon Peter, a Galilean fisherman full of bravado and self-assurance one moment, cowering behind pillars of doubt, fear and denial the next?

Just like us.

Peter wasn’t Jesus’ favorite, or even the most devoted apostle. But Peter’s the one. Obviously Jesus saw something in Peter that he thought was perfect for the establishment of the community of the faithful-- the church. And although I don’t know that Jesus envisioned denominations, dioceses, parishes ,Church conventions, reformations and schisms (well he probably figured there’d be fights) when he mentioned “Church,” I do think the choice of Peter sheds light on the Church as an institution, it’s past, it’s present and it’s future.

You see, Peter was flawed; Jesus knew that, God knew that, we know it. But God was willing to let Peter make his mistakes and Jesus was willing to let Peter grow into his role, because they knew that a big part of learning, of growing, is making mistakes. We don’t learn without making mistakes. Mistakes are instructive and useful, as long as we review it, take corrective action and try again. Going through this process teaches us---as individuals and as communities of faith.

Admitting our mistakes and then trying again. That’s what living a faithful life is all about folks. Most Sundays we have corporate confession and absolution. We confess our sins and we are absolved, forgiven. All of us.

How can God forgive what I’ve done, you may ask. Or, how can my forgiveness be wrapped up in the forgiveness of that scoundrel a few rows over?

But, you see, forgiveness, God’s forgiveness of us is abundant, constant and without caveat. Our forgiveness by God is assured as long as we admit, that we’ve made a mistake and strive, with all our might, to learn from it. That’s reconciliation and repentance: an amendment of life. We don’t promise to never make another mistake, we simply promise to learn from those we do make and when we mess up, admit it, make it as right as we can and move on. It’s what we tell our children all the time. Admit your error, fix it and try to do better next time.

This is what the church as an institution: parish, diocese, national church, the Church universal---needs to do: reconciliation, repentance, amendment of life. The Church and churches make mistakes: some small, resulting in hurt feelings, others large, resulting in atrocities, but regardless of the magnitude, the church MUST admit its, our, mistakes. And then do better. So often the Church has not done this. We preach a God whose love knows no bounds, whose care for us is never compromised, yet we hide our mistakes, too proud or too ashamed to admit the error of our ways. When we, as a church, do this, we’re insulting God, we’re denying the lessons we’ve learned from all who’ve come before us.

Why was Peter chosen to be the cornerstone of our faith, the gatekeeper of salvation and the symbol of the Church as Institution? Because. ….

While Peter said:

I’ll walk on water, Lord.

Oops, help, I’m drowning!

We’ve said (and say)

We’ll serve the poor, just after we skim some off the top

And while Peter exclaimed:

I’ll never let them take you Lord, give me that Sword.

Jesus? Never heard of him.

We’ve proclaimed:

We’ll love everyone, no exceptions. Well, except for the Jews. And the Muslims.

And the women. And the Gays and the Lesbians, and the people with disabilities……

And when Peter exhorted:

Lord, I’ll stand by you forever.

Well, Jesus is dead, I’m going fishing.

We’ve said:

Yes, the church is greater than the sum of its parts but if you make that decision, I’m leaving.

God, chose Peter in spite of, maybe even because of , his flaws. God knew who Peter was, God knows who we are. But God also knows who we, through the help of the Holy Spirit, can be. Rocks and all.+

The Crumbs of Grace Feed this Fierce Mother 8.14.2011

+When I served at the Cathedral, everyone called me Mother Cathy. This freaks some folks out, reminding them of scary Mother Superiors from old movies. For others it feels artificial and forced. At first I couldn’t stand it, preferring to just be called Cathy. But I must admit, since leaving the Cathedral and moving to Good Shepherd and now Ascension, I kind of miss it. Never having been a Mother in the usual sense (unless you count my dogs) the respect and affection attached to the title Mother was something I, deep down, longed for and came to enjoy. It’s not the formality of the title I learned to love, it was that respect and affection. Of course, not all the images conjured by the term “mother” are pleasant.

For those who didn’t enjoy the love of a mother in the traditional sense, the term can bring painful memories. For those who have recently lost their mother, it can pierce the heart. “Mother” is a powerful image. An icon of sorts.

When we are blessed to have an attentive, healthy, aware mother, we are supported through, defended by, and cared for by a force stronger than anything else in nature. To paraphrase the famous saying , “Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.” I wish that type of mother, or mother figure in all our lives. The Canaanite Woman in today’s Gospel was such a mother. She would not be denied or pushed aside, regardless of the consequences.

Remember, she’s not a Jew—but a Gentile who approaches Jesus and his followers with determination, pride and a love beyond all measure. Her story is remarkable on a number of levels, not the least of which is the fact that she out-wits Jesus and gets him to admit he is wrong. At this stage of Jesus’ life (in Matthew’s Gospel) Jesus is still coming to grips with who he is and what his mission is to be. Jesus, and in turn his disciples, consider his mission, his ministry, to be for the Jews…and only for them… the fulfillment of the covenant established by God through Moses. He’s traveled to Syro-Phonecian territory, a predominantly non-Jewish region, to get some rest and relaxation…assuming that no one would pay him any attention, since he wasn’t “their messiah.” Suddenly, out of nowhere, comes this woman screaming for Jesus to heal her daughter. She has trouble written all over her---there’s no man: no husband, no father, no brother…an unaccompanied woman approaching a group of men is bizarre and completely inappropriate for that culture. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, not only is she a Gentile---she’s a Canaanite--her ancestors came from the land of Canaan---the residents of the land promised to Moses, the destination for the Exodus people. A land the Jews forcibly wrestled from the Canaanites.

Her ethnicity is dripping with symbolism, a symbolism further underscored by Jesus’ response when the disciples ask him to get rid of her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But Jesus is wrong. He’s been sent to the lost sheep of the world---he’s to heal all the broken, to lift up all the down-trodden, to heal all the sick…but he doesn’t get it. The Canaanite woman—the unaccompanied, unclean woman who should, on all accounts, despise the Jews, does get it.

This woman—a desperate and determined mother--helps Jesus see the full scope of his mission, she teaches the Teacher.

Jesus learns.

Mothers have a way of doing things like this---of knowing more than they should, of acting braver than they think they are, of enduring whatever it takes to get their children what they need.

This Canaanite mother was no different. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, most people cringe when they hear Jesus’ response to her “Lord, help me” plea.

“It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

What???? Has Jesus lost his mind? Can this possibly be the same Jesus who teaches that we must love everyone, no exceptions? Yes, it can be. Yes it is.

Jesus is simply saying, in language not unusual for his culture, that he was the messiah for the Jews and that his work was for them—the lost sheep—not for anyone else.

But, not to be denied, the woman says,

“yes Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” She hasn’t taken offense, she isn’t going to make a scene. But she also isn’t going away. She accepts where Jesus is at—that he has come for the Jewish people and no one else—and challenges him with the very fact that dogs will eat the crumbs which fall from their master’s table and that all she wants—this unclean, unaccompanied, socially unacceptable person—are the crumbs of his grace. She has such faith in who Jesus is, and such desperation to help her child, that she is willing to accept the left-overs, the trash, if it will save her daughter. Hell hath no fury and Hell hath no smarts, like that of a desperate mother!

Thank God the woman responded as she did. For if she hadn’t, her daughter would not have been healed, and Jesus wouldn’t have been taught.

Mothers, and mother figures across the ages, have tempered their fury, have bridled their rage,and at times have swallowed their pride….not because they felt unworthy, not because they felt unclean, not because they felt uneducated…but because they have put their own needs aside in order to provide for their children. For mothers---those who have earned that moniker in their life---set aside their own desires, their own pride, their own needs in order to provide for those whom they love without reason, those whom they love beyond all measure, those for whom they will lay down their very life…not because they’re super-human, not because they’re heroes, but because they are, plain and simple: mothers. Sound familiar?

Jesus came to teach us that God loves us beyond all reason, beyond all measure and without any limit. We worship the One who laid down his life for us. Not because we deserve it, not because we earned it, but because God, our eternal parent has a love for us which is fierce. Just like a mother.+

Aug 7 : It's like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree

+It’s like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree.

Quite an image isn’t it?

But the statement is a fitting saying for so many of our efforts. For me, trying to understand assembly diagrams is a lot like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. I maneuver the paper this way and that, I think I just about have it…. and then the whole sticky mess ends up on the ground—leaving the product unassembled and me, frustrated.

Our readings today describe various efforts to identify, describe, [name] and prove God.

But our efforts to name God, our efforts to prove God’s existence, our efforts to conjure up a fitting image for God is a lot like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. Just when we think we’ve got it, we end up with an unassembled sticky mess.

Of course, that doesn’t stop us from trying. In the First Book of Kings, Ezekiel tries to see God, to touch God, to know who God is. Ezekiel searches wind, earthquakes and fire trying to find a fitting image for God.

In Exodus, Moses tries to name God…he implores God---whom should I say you are? And God answers, simply, “I am.” God is. Period. Trying to explain it more than that usually leads us into a sticky mess. But just like Jell-O and that tree, we try. Some of us find God in an image of an old white grandpa- like figure sitting in a throne, overlooking creation. Others of us find God in nature, in a beautiful sunset or in the roar of waves crashing on the shore. Others think God is light. The images of God are as varied as the type of people in our world…people will always be searching for God, trying to find the one definitive image. But just as quickly as one person finds what they consider the image, another person comes along to dispute it.

The fact is, God has many different names, God has many different faces. God is found in all sorts of places and in all sorts of conditions. It really depends on your perspective. But, as Ezekiel discovered in the Book of Kings, he only finds God, once he and everything around him, quiets down. Only then does he discover where God always is, and always will be--right there, in the silence of the world, in the shear and utter silence of our souls.

The thing is trying to name God, as Moses did or try to image God, like Ezekiel did or to try and prove God in Jesus, as Peter did, isn’t the point. Faith is.

While God- and the faith we have in God, through Jesus Christ-may, at times, seem fleeting, evasive, hard to describe and difficult to see; God, the divinity of God’s Son, Jesus, and the faith in this which we proclaim, is never absent.

Only our ability to notice it is.

Only our ability to trust in it is.

Only our ability to accept it is.

Such was the case with Peter.

Jesus liked metaphors. Peter liked proof. Jesus used his faith in his mission to fuel his work. Peter questioned this faith and seemed always to challenge (or deny) the mission.

Peter, in his zeal to KNOW THE TRUTH, TO PROVE THE TRUTH, TO LIVE THE TRUTH, didn’t just try and nail Jell-O to a tree, he tried to jackhammer it:

“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water. Jesus said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and began walking on the water…but when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, began to sink and cried out to Jesus, “Save me.”

Peter, who initially called out to Jesus in bravado and determination, ends up crying out to him in fear and trembling. What happened? What changed? Well, the sinking, of course…but what caused the sinking? Was it physics? Perhaps. But maybe, just maybe it was something else. Because, to me, the most important words in that whole section of scripture is “when he noticed.”

Peter was doing fine until he noticed what was happening. Once he noticed that he was walking on water, once he noticed the strong headwind, once he noticed that there was no safety rope, no life preserver; once he noticed that his walking on water was a sheer act of faith…. he began to sink.

Not because there was no life preserver, not because walking on water is physically impossible. No, he began to sink as soon as doubt took hold.

He sank because he stopped living his faith and started noticing his doubt.

He began to sink not because he lacked faith, but because he doubted he had enough. He began to sink because instead of going with it, going forward in faith, wherever it took him, he looked down, looked around and became afraid and full of doubt.

Doubt drags us down. Doubt sinks us, doubt is what defeats us.

Peter loved Jesus, but he didn’t want to walk on the water because of that love; he wanted to walk on the water to make Jesus prove himself. That’s not faith, that’s doubt.

Jesus knew that Peter doubted , that he questioned. He knows we doubt, he knows we question. But Jesus, just like with Peter, is always with us, ready to reach out an arm to save us from sinking into the despair of doubt. All we need to do is cry out, reach out and hold on. Trying to live our lives on our own, without asking for help, with out reaching out and holding on will leave us a sticky unassembled mess on the ground just like that jell-o and the tree.

Faith, isn’t something to be proven, it’s something to be witnessed.

And to be witnessed, our faith must be lived.

Living it means, walking on the water in spite of the wind. Living it means loving, forgiving and, most of all, believing. Believing in God means trusting that God is always here. Living our faith means knowing that, after all the noise of the world-- the screeching winds, the rumbling earthquakes, the rushing floodwaters and the blasts of battle stop, if we listen very carefully, if we look very closely, if we feel very honestly, we will discover that our Creator God, the God who loves and lives in, around and through us, is still here, deep within, where our souls rest in utter silence.

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