Monday, November 26, 2018

Buildings


Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
November 18, 2018

28 Proper B

          Today, we celebrate the 20th anniversary of our Noack organ, an amazing instrument that has brought joy to this congregation and to the community for two decades.  Yet today, we also hear one of Jesus’ disciples say “Look, teacher, what large stones and what large buildings” as if the Temple was all about stones and buildings.  Today, we think about the way music enhances our worship and our experience of God in this magnificent building.  Yet today, we also hear Jesus say “Do you see these great buildings?  Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”  Today, we sing our hearts out in some of our favorite hymns.  And at the same time, we hear Jesus talk about division, wars, earthquakes, and famines.  Clearly, our gospel lesson this morning is yet another installment in the series “I don’t pick them.  I just preach them.” 

          The commentaries clearly come down on the side of Jesus condemning beautiful places of worship, the time and resources required to maintain such buildings, and the temptation to worship the building rather than God.  On the one hand, I get that, having spent part of last week without heat in our offices.  But on the other hand, I found myself a bit annoyed.  Some years ago, I had the chance to worship at York Minster in England.  The faithful have worshipped on that site since the 7th century, and the construction of the current building took over 200 years.  More than 5 generations of people worked on the building.  They dedicated their lives to their little piece of a great cathedral being built to point the whole city to the glory of God.  The deep faith that went into such building projects is humbling, and the temple in Jerusalem was no different.  And, while I know that everyone’s experience is different, great church hymnody is key to my experience of God and of worship.  So, I found myself with little patience for what I was reading in the commentaries. 

          So, what are we to make of Jesus’ words this morning?  In the 13th chapter of Mark’s gospel, also known as Mark’s “Little Apocalypse,” Jesus describes the end times, the time just before he returns.  Apocalyptic writings in scripture usually describe what is actually happening in the lives of the original readers, while also describing the salvation that will come in the future.  The original readers of Mark's gospel were being persecuted.  They were experiencing many of the kinds of things Jesus describes in this section of Mark's gospel.  In the verses following our gospel reading, Jesus continues to describe the present and coming persecution in some detail.  But in the final verses of the chapter, Jesus promises that this is not the end.  Jesus is coming and may even be here now, and Jesus calls his followers to watch.  Passages such as this give people hope that the challenges they endure do not have the final word, and the challenges do not mean that Jesus is absent.

When times are difficult, we can easily wonder where Jesus is.  Between natural disasters like the fires that rage in California, the issues of immigration and gun violence that divide families and friends, and personal challenges of health or family concerns, we can easily wonder if Jesus has disappeared or God is asleep. 

In the reading from 1 Samuel, Hannah is crushed by her lack of a child.  She is experiencing bullying by her peers and the heartbreak of infertility.   At the time when God seems most absent to her, what does Hannah do?  1 Samuel says she presents herself at the temple, but from the way the passage reads, I think she throws herself down at the temple, is deeply distressed, weeps bitterly, and pours out her soul to God.  She is reassured by Eli, the priest, that God has heard her.  God has not abandoned her, and eventually she does conceive and bear a son.  Yes, she does get her heart’s desire, which does not always happen, not even in Scripture, but the point is that, rather than run from the God who seems so absent, she drew near to God and she did so in the temple.

 Scholars do not know who wrote the letter to the Hebrews or the circumstances around that writing, but the words at the end of our reading this morning are among my favorites.  "And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching."  Provoke one another to good deeds.  The word "provoke" actually means "to call forth" but I find myself provoked more often to anger or impatience as Hannah was by her rivals rather than being provoked to good deeds.  When the writer says "and all the more as you see the Day approaching," the writer is telling us that the need to provoke one another to love and good deeds, and not neglect to meet together only increases as challenges increase.  The early church did not gather to sing hymns, share scripture, and break bread together because life was easy.  They gathered because life was hard and they needed each other in order to be able to find Christ in their midst. They needed each other in order to be able to make Eucharist, which is the Greek word for thanksgiving, when being thankful was too hard to do alone.

As we gather this morning to worship in this beautiful space and celebrate the gift of music, Scripture reminds us that God is closest when God seems most absent, and that we experience God's closeness and find Jesus in our midst by coming together. Together we can encourage one another, provoke one another to love and good deeds so we make a difference, and stick together as we meet life’s challenges.  Scripture reminds us of what we already know-that there is strength to be found in our worship in this place, and that God can be experienced and glorified here through each other and through our worship in good times and in hard times.  Anything less would be just a building.

                                                          Amen.

Monday, November 12, 2018

Poverty


Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
November 11, 2018

27 Proper B

          When Don and I lived in Springfield, Ohio, our church had a neighborhood fair every summer.  The church sat on the edge of the poorest neighborhood in Springfield and each August the neighbors looked forward to the afternoon of free games, food, and entertainment.  Many of the folks came year after year and were also regulars at our food pantry, so they became very familiar faces to us and we to them.

          One of the booths we offered at the Neighborhood Fair was Charlotte’s Prayer Booth and Tattoo Parlor.  Anyone with a prayer concern could come by and we would pray and they would get a free stick-on tattoo.  I was skeptical about how popular my prayer booth would be, as well as naive about how hard it is to get those tattoos to stick.  However, my afternoon was filled with people wanting prayer for all sorts of things, almost always for other people.  The folks who came to my booth were anxious to tell me about their relationship with Jesus, what Jesus had done for them, and how Jesus was holding them together.  These are folks living significantly below the poverty level.  A permanent address is considered to be a place they have lived more than a few weeks.  For many of them, our hot dogs and walking tacos were their meal for the day.  I was humbled by their cheerful reliance on God and the depth of their faith in the face of challenges I cannot begin to imagine. 

          I think about our friends at the Neighborhood Fair when I hear the stories of the widow of Zarephath and the widow with the two small coins.  The widow of Zarephath had nothing with which to make a meal other than a small bit of meal and a little oil.  Her plan was to bake a small bit of bread for herself and her son, then lie down to die.  Her life felt completely hopeless.  Elijah convinces her to make bread for him and for herself and her son and promises her that the oil and meal will not run out.  The woman does not have a lot to lose at this point, so she does as Elijah asks.  Indeed, the oil and meal never run out.  The woman was willing to let go of her hold on that last little bit of food and trust God that she would not run out.   

          Jesus tells us that the widow at the treasury, who put in her last two coins, which were worth about a penny, had put in more than the rich people who had given large sums of money.  Jesus is simply stating a fact here.  The rich people had put in out of their abundance, but the widow had put in everything she had, all that she had to live on.  Many a stewardship sermon has been preached on this passage, encouraging the faithful to be risky in their giving like the widow.  However, I think that financial stewardship is only part of the story and Jesus is calling us to something even deeper here.  Jesus has commented on the scribes who walk about in long robes, who have the best seats in the synagogue and at banquets, and who enjoy being recognized in the market place.  He sees many rich people putting in large sums of money.  But then he observes that the widow who put in her last two coins has put in the most because she has given out of her poverty. 

          The most significant statement in this story is “but she, out of her poverty, has put in everything she has.”  Like the widow at Zarephath, the widow at the treasury has let go of what little she has.  Now she, like the widow at Zarephath, will have to rely utterly and completely on God for her security.  She has nothing else to rely on.  On the other hand, the scribes and rich people believe they can rely on their robes, places of honor, and riches for their security.  Likely they have homes, plenty of food, extended families, and employment.  The widow has God.

          Both of these widows call us to let go of our grip on the things that feel scarce to us and rely on God for our security.  For the widow of Zarephath and the widow at the treasury, like so many of the people at the Neighborhood Fair, that scarcity was food and money.  Life without the resources to provide for one’s family is scary and hard, and those of us who have plenty are certainly called to do God’s work in the world, helping provide for those who live in poverty.  Jesus recognized those who put in out of their abundance.  However, Jesus commended the widow for giving out of her poverty.  We live comfortable lives with enough money in our pockets and abundant food on our tables.  How do Jesus’ words about giving out of our poverty apply to us?

I believe Jesus calls us to give out of our poverty as well.  Our scarcity might be time, as the demands on our time seem to exceed the number of hours in a day.  Or our scarcity might be love as we work to love those who hold views so very different from our own.  Or perhaps our scarcity is hope as violence snuffs out even more innocent lives, or faith that we can do anything to bring about a better world.  Our poverty is whatever seems so scarce that we must hold on tightly to what little we have.  The more tightly we hold on to our scarcity, the less open we are to God’s abundance. Like the widow’s mite or the bit of oil and bread, these stories call us to let go of what feels scarce and rely on God rather than the strength of our grip.  Jesus watched the rich give out of their abundance and Jesus watched the widow give out of her poverty.  Jesus calls us to give not only out of our abundance, which requires generosity, but to give out of our poverty, which requires faith.

                                                                    Amen.

Saints


Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
November 4, 2018

All Saints’ Day

          Jeff Cohen is the doctor at Allegheny General Hospital who took care of the alleged shooter at the Tree of Life Synagogue last Saturday.  Robert Bowers had been shot multiple times by police as they tried to take him into custody.  Dr. Cohen is Jewish and is a member of the Tree of Life Synagogue, as is much of the staff that cared for Bowers.  One might reasonably think that the staff would have mixed feelings about saving the life of a man who had just caused unspeakable tragedy in their very own place of worship.  But instead, when asked about treating Bowers, Dr. Cohen said, “My job isn’t to judge him…it’s to care for him.”  After meeting Bowers, the doctor said “Quite honestly, he’s just a guy.  He’s some mother’s son.  And how did he get from that to where he is today?  That’s going to be a large debate that we have to wrestle with as a society.” 

          In a week that has seen so much sadness, anger, fear, and frustration over the Tree of Life Synagogue shootings, as well as the deepening polarization in our country, as well as the challenges we or our loved ones face, the tears in three of our four readings on this All Saints’ Sunday seem to be something of a divine coincidence.  In the reading from Isaiah, we hear of a time when God will swallow up death forever and will wipe away the tears from all eyes. The reading from Revelation gives us a vision of a future in which God will be fully present with us, and will, again, wipe every tear from our eyes.  In the gospel reading, we not only see the tears of those who loved Lazarus, including Jesus, we also hear Mary’s anger: “Lord if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  We hear the people’s frustration with Jesus when they say, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”  These are the same tears, anger, and frustrations that we have all experienced, if not this week, then certainly some other week. 

          The tears in these readings are also our own tears as we remember those who, in the words of the Book of Common Prayer, “we love, but see no longer.”  We pray for those who have gone ahead of us to live eternally with God, and we take comfort in both the fact that there is no pain or grief in God’s nearer presence and in the promise that one day we will be reunited with those we love.  We look to that future time described in Isaiah and Revelation when we won’t need All Saints’ Day because all the saints will be together every day.  On that day, God will come to dwell fully with us, making for all people a feast of rich food, erasing all mourning and crying and pain, and drying all our tears.  At that time, there will be no further need to remember our loved ones with candles and prayers as death will be swallowed up forever.

          But the story of the raising of Lazarus is different.  John’s gospel begins with the words “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God.”  Then we hear “And the Word became flesh and lived among us.”  In Jesus, God has broken into the world in a new way and created a new reality here and now.  This morning, Jesus calls us into a new reality in which life is stronger than death as he calls to Lazarus, “Lazarus, come out!”

          Lazarus has been dead for four days.  We can wonder with those who said “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying” and ask why Jesus hasn’t raised our loved ones from the dead as well.  We can be angry along with Mary and say, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.”  Or we can see this story for what it is-a present glimpse into the future Isaiah and Revelation describe when the fullness of God’s reign is present on earth.  The story of the raising of Lazarus shows us the power life has over death now.  The story of Lazarus calls us to come out of the tomb of division, hatred, and death and claim the power of unity, love, and life.  The story of Lazarus calls us to be about the work of making God’s future vision a present reality, by using our lives to proclaim that unity is stronger than division, love is stronger than hate, and life is stronger than death. 

          The Saints of God are people who use their lives to do just that.  In the face of division, hate, and death, Dr. Cohen said “My job isn’t to judge him, it’s to care for him” and he saw Robert Bowers not as someone to be despised for the great pain he caused, but as “some mother’s son.”  Dr. Cohen is making God’s future vision a present reality, proclaiming with his life that love is stronger than hate and life is stronger than death.  Just as Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb and into life, All Saints’ Day calls us out of the tomb and into the world to proclaim with our lives that the final words belong to life and love.

                                                                             Amen.