Gap

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 29, 2019

21 Proper C

          “Mind the gap” is a phrase used in England to remind people to be careful as they step off the subway onto the platform.  “Mind the gap” is a lovely British way of saying “watch your step.” However, “mind the gap” seems to have implications beyond getting off the train.  I am reminded of phrases like “Mind your manners.”  “Mind the gap” seems to ask us to tend to the gap, or pay attention to the gap, or be mindful of where we put our feet.  The request is a call to attentiveness more than a warning.  Being mindful of the gap allows us to bridge the distance between one surface and another, to overcome the gap rather than ignoring the distance and suffering the consequences.

          Both the reading from Jeremiah and Jesus’ parable about the rich man and Lazarus seem to be about minding a gap. In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, Lazarus spent his days lying at the gate of the rich man’s house, covered with sores, hungry and humiliated. The rich man spent his days dressed in purple and fine linen and feasting sumptuously. When they both die, the roles are reversed and Lazarus has the far better life in Hades than does the rich man, who wants Lazarus to wait on him. When the rich man can get no relief for his misery, he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to his father’s house to warn his five brothers of their fate. But Abraham says no. "If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead." The rich man’s sin was that he ignored Lazarus lying at his gate, if he ever really saw him to begin with. The rich man ignored the vast gap between himself and Lazarus.  Moses and the prophets have a good bit to say about how the poor are to be treated. The book of Deuteronomy makes numerous provisions for the poor, and the Psalms are full of references to the way God will lift up the poor and crush the oppressor. The rich man may have ignored Lazarus and the gap between the two men, but God was most certainly aware of both Lazarus and the distance of that gap.

           This morning, in the passage from Jeremiah, we hear Jeremiah make what appears to be a run of the mill real estate agreement. The details of the agreement are a bit foreign to us. Jeremiah has the right of redemption by purchase to the land being sold by his cousin Hanamel. The right of redemption is something like first right of refusal, although in the case of right of redemption the land stays in the family. We are given every little detail of the transaction, so between those details and the fact that God endorses this transaction, this real estate agreement looks to be in Jeremiah’s best interest.  However, the property is a very bad piece of real estate and Jeremiah is actually in prison. Jeremiah has told the people of Judah, his own people, that God is using the Babylonians, the enemy, to punish the people of Judah for their sins. Those sins were things like worshiping foreign gods and ignoring the poor in their midst.  For his efforts, Jeremiah has landed in jail.  The real estate is a bad investment because the Babylonians will soon invade Judah and completely destroy Jerusalem. Jeremiah’s property will be destroyed, abandoned, and worthless. But God tells Jeremiah to put the deeds to the land in an earthenware jar where they will last a long time. For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: "Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land." Despite all evidence to the contrary, and in the midst of impending disaster, God calls Jeremiah and the people to hope in a future that is better than their current situation or the immediate future. 

What do Jeremiah’s real estate transaction, and the story of Lazarus and the rich man have to do with minding the gap? In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, and through out the gospels, Jesus calls us to see those whom the world ignores or simply does not see. Jesus calls us to open our eyes to see the need around us. Sometimes that need is obvious, like a man lying at the gate, covered with flies and having his wounds licked by wild dogs seeking blood. Other times the need is less obvious and far easier to ignore.  Who, in our own community, does not feel like a fully valued participant?  Who has needs that we cannot see because we do not look?  Or on a larger scale, have we become so numb to gun violence that we no longer hear the cries of those who have been wounded and see the tears of those who have lost loved ones?  When we mind the gap, we see the people God sees, and create a bridge to travel the gap. 

Jeremiah’s real estate transaction reminds us that God sees hope where we see disaster. Just as God saw hope in Jeremiah’s purchase of land that would soon be destroyed, God calls us to mind the gap between the hope God sees and places where the world sees failure and would give up. We mind the gap when we invest time and resources in children who struggle to learn, or those who feel totally overwhelmed by life, or when we, like Greta Thunberg, decide there is something one person can do to make a difference in the enormous problem of climate change.  God calls us to see and work for hope where the world sees disaster or refuses to look at all.   

Who do we not see because we are afraid to look?  Where do we fail to mind the gap between despair and hope?  Today we hear God call us to open our eyes and look carefully at the world around us. God challenges us to see those that God sees but the world does not, and, despite any impending disaster, to invest in God’s hope for the future. God calls us to mind the gap.

                                                          Amen

Appreciate

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 22, 2019

20 Proper C

          Whenever Jesus leaves me completely baffled, as he does this morning, and the commentaries offer no help, I often turn to one of the great 20^th century theologians for help.  That theologian is Fred Rogers.  Mister Rogers, ordained in the Presbyterian Church, invited us into his neighborhood where we were told that we are all appreciated and loved, just the way we are.  He reminded us of the goodness in the world when times were hard and called us to be our very best selves for others.  One of my favorite Fred Roger’s quotes is from his commencement address at Middlebury College in 2001. “I believe that appreciation is a holy thing, that when we look for what’s best in the person we happen to be with at the moment, we’re doing what God does; so in appreciating our neighbor, we’re participating in something truly sacred.”

          What, you might reasonably wonder, does this quote have to do with a parable in which Jesus seems to commend dishonesty, embezzlement, laziness, and self-interest?

          One way to look at the parable is this: The rich man fires the manager for squandering his property.  The manager’s options going forward are limited.  He could dig, but he is too lazy, or he could beg, but he is too proud.  So he decides to put the employers’ customers in his own debt by reducing their bills so they will give him a place to stay once he is homeless.  Since he has already squandered his employers’ property, cooking the books is not a great moral leap for the guy.  Now, the manager has squandered the master's property, and taken 50 or 80 cents on the dollar as payment for debt owed the master.  But then the scoundrel is told that he will be welcomed into the eternal homes.   This makes no sense whatsoever.

          But, suppose there is another way to look at the story.  What if, rather, than assuming the worst about the manager’s character and actions, we approach the parable looking for the best.  What if the manager has so badly squandered the master's property that getting back 50 or 80 percent of what is owed to the master is actually a great bargain?  Instead of looking at a total loss, the rich man is actually getting back 50- 80% of what he is owed, thanks to the manager’s shrewdness.  Given that the manager has squandered the rich man's property, now we have a win-win.  The master is happy to get something back.  The manager is happy because now he has friends to stay with.  The clients are happy because their debt load is now lower.  Jesus follows the parable by saying "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful in very much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much."  In some admittedly bizarre way, the manager has actually been faithful in a very little and will be welcomed into the eternal homes.

Scripture is full of stories about people who find themselves in tight spots, often of their own making.  In the book of Genesis, Adam and Eve are evicted from the garden for disobedience.  Cain, the first born of Adam and Eve, killed his brother Abel in the first act of sibling rivalry.  Jacob, the trickster, stole his brother’s birthright. In each of these cases, where humans had made a complete mess of things, God could have judged and seen only what was wrong.  But instead, God saw what was good and used each of them to further the story of salvation history.  Jesus called tax collectors and sinners to follow him, despite their dishonorable ways.  So, perhaps we should not be surprised at this parable in which Jesus commends the dishonest manager and calls out something good from his life.  Jesus could see the capacity for something good to come even from a crook, which brings me back to the Mister Roger’s quote.  Perhaps Jesus looked for the best in the manager, seeing the manager as God sees, and experiencing something holy in the man’s shrewdness. 

Jesus follows the parable by saying "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful in very much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much." 

          Jesus tells many parables throughout the gospels about the potential for something small to become something large.  The mustard seed becomes the greatest of all shrubs.  The yeast leavens a mind-boggling amount of dough.  A small bit of bread and fish become enough to feed thousands of people.  I wonder if the manager in Jesus’ parable this morning was faithful in very little, but Jesus is telling us that the smallest amount of faith can grow into something larger, even in a lazy, dishonest, embezzling manager. 

          Perhaps Jesus is using this bizarre parable to teach us something about what it means to live a faithful life.  Perhaps living a faithful life means living like people who believe that God will take the little bit of faith we have and grow that faith into something larger.  Or perhaps living a faithful life means living as people who know that God will take our messed up lives and help us be creative if not shrewd in finding gospel ways forward.  Or perhaps, living a faithful life means seeing ourselves and all people as God sees us, even those with whom we disagree, or who are different from us, or who are dishonest scoundrels, looking for the best rather than the worst, and appreciating the holy.  Only God knows the gospel difference a bunch of messed up people with a little bit of faith can make in this world.

                                                                                      Amen.

Whole

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 15, 2019

19 Proper C

          Whenever I hear the parables Jesus tells this morning, I am reminded of the hymn “Amazing Grace.”  The first words of that hymn are “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.  I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.”  In my experience, people either love or hate this hymn, and I have a love/hate relationship with the words myself.  On the one hand, as humans we are made in the image of God and redeemed in Christ.  So, while we may do some wretched things, we are not wretches.  But on the other hand, the feeling of being lost then found, whether vocationally, relationally, spiritually, or in many other ways is a common human experience, as is being metaphorically blind, again in many different ways, and suddenly seeing the light.

          The joy of finding something that was once lost is also common, whether something of great value, or the car keys or cell phone.  The sweet relief that comes after being lost on an unlit road at night and finally realizing where I am is a phenomenon I am all to familiar with.  This week, we marked the 18^th anniversary of 9/11, a day of tremendous loss.  And in the past year, we, both as a parish and as individuals, have experienced great loss. 

          So, when we hear Jesus’s parables this morning about a lost sheep and a lost coin, we understand both being lost and losing.  That there is great joy when the lost sheep and the lost coin are found is a no brainer.  The leap to God rejoicing when one person returns to the fold is an easy leap to make and I love the thought of God rejoicing.  So, for once, Jesus seems to make sense.

          However, there is a lot about these two parables that does not make sense if we look closely.  First, how do these parables respond to the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes who say about Jesus “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”  Secondly, the answer to “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?” is probably no one.  No one is their right mind would leave 99 sheep to their own devices and go after the one because then there would be 99 additional lost sheep.  Thirdly, Jesus seems to be making a rather large leap from the finding of a lost sheep or coin to the rejoicing in heaven over a sinner who repents. After all, neither a sheep nor a coin is capable of repentance. The sheep just wandered off, as sheep are prone to do, and no telling how the coin got lost, but it obviously wasn’t the coins’ fault.  And lastly, we can think that the shepherd and the woman represent God looking for the lost, but the reality is that we are never lost to God. We might feel lost, but God always knows where we are.  In the reading from Jeremiah, God’s people are quite lost, having strayed far from God and apparently not knowing their way home. They are lost in a wilderness of their own making.  But God knows exactly where they are and God’s displeasure with where the people are is evident.  Even when we feel lost, we are not lost to God.

          So what on earth is Jesus up to this morning?  Here is a thought.  Both the sheep and the coin were part of a larger whole. There were 100 sheep and 10 coins, both nice round numbers that indicate completeness. When the sheep goes missing and the coin turns up lost, that whole is fractured. It is not just that the sheep is missing, but that the community is broken. It is not just that one little coin is missing, but that the nine are not complete without it. When the sheep is returned and the coin is found and restored to the others, the 100 and the 10 are complete again. And there is great rejoicing, both on earth and in heaven, rejoicing not only that the individual sheep and coin were found, but rejoicing that what was broken is now whole.

This morning/in a few minutes we will baptize Ellie and Ethan Calkins.  We could easily think that we have brought lost little sheep into the fold, and we will say “We receive you into the household of God.  Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.”  So, yes, on the one hand, we do welcome Ellie and Ethan into the fold.  But on the other hand, we welcome them into the household of God where our work is to make the broken whole.  Our work is to work for justice and peace, to proclaim the gospel in word and action, and to respect the dignity of every human being, bringing wholeness to this broken world, and to rejoice when whatever is broken is made whole.

          How do Jesus’ parables respond to the Pharisees and scribes who say “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them?”  Jesus parables remind us that we cannot create unity by fostering division.  We cannot fix what is broken by breaking it more.  We cannot find what is lost by losing more.  We cannot create love by hating.  The work of the gospel, and the work of baptism, is to restore the broken to wholeness, to work for unity where there is division, and to proclaim our faith that love wins by showing that love to the world.

                                                                             Amen

Mutual love

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 1, 2019

17 Proper C

          In June, when I was doing Learning from London, one of the Sundays I worshipped at St. James, Piccadilly.  The people were welcoming, the sermon was good, the congregational singing was wonderful, and the experience was enough to make me believe that if I lived in London, St. James would be my church.

          One particular aspect of the worship sticks out in my mind, however.  For the Great Thanksgiving, the prayer over the bread and wine asking Jesus to be present in them, the entire congregation was invited to gather around the altar.  The space was large and level with the rest of the floor so totally accessible.  However, there were probably 200 people in the congregation that June morning.  We all fit around the altar, some closer than others, obviously, but how on earth was communion going to be served to this huddled mass of people?  This looked to me like organized chaos at best.

          However, St. James celebrates communion with all the people around the altar every Sunday.  And what happened was a lesson in what happens when each person is more concerned that the person next to them is fed than that they are fed.  The experience was actually quite orderly as everyone was patiently making sure that everyone received the bread and the wine.  Did this take a little longer than if there had been a nice, orderly line?  Probably.  Was it a little chaotic at times?  Yes.  But the distribution of communion totally worked because everyone was concerned for everyone else.

          Both the reading from Hebrews and the parable Jesus tells this morning remind me of my experience at St. James.  In the parable, Jesus seems to be giving common sense advice about seating arrangements at a banquet. Do not chose a place of honor for yourself in case someone more important arrives and you are booted to a seat of less honor.  Instead, seat yourself at the lowest place so the host can invite you to a higher place.  On the surface, this looks like common sense.  However, Jesus ends the parable by saying “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  This is not common sense.  As a general rule, those who exalt themselves seem to be exalted and those who humble themselves seem to be humbled. But in the upside down, inside out world of gospel values, Jesus’ instructions are not common-sense advice about how to keep from being disgraced at a dinner party.  Jesus’s advice is about how to live in such a way that our lives reflect gospel values, where others are put before ourselves and the goal is that everyone is fed.

          In the reading from Hebrews, we hear the admonition to “Let mutual love continue.”  Your vestry wrestled with this passage on Tuesday night at the vestry meeting.  What does mutual love look like?  However, Hebrews answers that question in the next verses.  Mutual love looks like showing hospitality to strangers and recognizing the angel in our midst, and  remembering those in prison, or those who are being tortured.  In other words, mutual love looks like caring for those with no one else to care for them.  Mutual love looks like being faithful in our covenanted relationships and being free from the love of money, so that our focus can be on others and not ourselves. 

          What, we might reasonably ask, is mutual about extending hospitality to those who are unlikely to return the gesture, or remembering those in prison who are unlikely to reciprocate? 

          The letter to the Hebrews was likely written in the mid to late first century to encourage Christians who were being persecuted.  The mutual love they are to let continue is their mutual love for each other.  However, mutual love is not love that turns in on itself.  The persecuted first century Christians would be very tempted to circle the wagons. Instead, mutual love is love that spills over into love for people they do not even know.  The author is reminding the faithful of the story in Genesis 18 where God appears to Abraham in the form of three strangers and Abraham offers them hospitality.  The Christians who were being persecuted were understandably suspicious of anyone they did not know.  But Hebrews encourages them to let their mutual love spill over to hospitality to strangers who may be God in their midst.  Our baptismal covenant calls that “Seeking and serving Christ in all people.” 

          The prophet Jeremiah reminds us this morning of the hospitality God offered the Hebrew people as God led them out of Egypt and through the wilderness, into a plentiful land to eat its fruit and other good things.  The people, however, did not respond to God’s hospitality with hospitality of their own and God is livid.  The people are not caring for the widow and orphan.  They have put themselves first at the expense of others. They are worshiping gods who promise temporary security and prosperity, forsaking the God of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob, Rachel, and Leah.  God expects the mutual love between God and the people to spill over into love that cares for others.

          Let mutual love continue.   My experience at St. James, Piccadilly is a parable for me of what real mutual love looks like in action, where everyone is concerned that everyone else is fed, trusting that there is always plenty, and living like there are angels in their midst.  Gospel hospitality is not worrying about where we will sit at the table but recognizing that there is a place for everyone.  Our work is to make sure that everyone has a seat.  Gospel hospitality remembers the hospitality God has shown us.  Our work is to offer that same hospitality to everyone. 

                                                                                                Amen.

Peace

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 18, 2019

15 Proper C

Thursday evening, I had the pleasure of having dinner and spending the night with my aunt in Chicago.  I was in the city for a meeting Friday morning at Bexley-Seabury seminary, where I serve on the board of directors.  Paula, my aunt, was the wife of my father’s older brother, my late uncle, but she is far closer to my age than she was to that of Uncle George.  Their children are about the same age as my sons.  While we were together Thursday evening, we looked at some old family photos.  There are photos of my dad and my uncle when they were little boys, photos of the 8 cousins, the grandparents we had in common, and photos of various family reunions over the decades.  Those photos tell the story of a family made up of different views on pretty much everything, including the family story, but also made up of people who care deeply about each other, share a set of experiences and family resemblances.  The photos are reminders of the important role we have played in each other’s lives.  I was reminded of the way I feel at home when I am with family, even when I am far from home.

          Family is important, so Jesus’ words come as a shock to me this morning.  Jesus seems to be something of a home-wrecker when he says “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided.”  Then Jesus goes on in some detail about what that division looks like.  If these words were the only words we had from Jesus, we would be hard pressed to say why this is good news and we might wonder how Jesus ever attracted any followers! 

But these are not the only words we have from or about Jesus.   When Jesus is born, the angels light up the sky and sing “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” To the woman who anoints his feet with costly ointment, Jesus says “Go in peace, your faith has saved you,” which is also what he says to the woman healed of her hemorrhage.  And at the end of Luke’s gospel, when Jesus appears to the disciples, he says “Peace be with you.” 

Clearly, Jesus has nothing against peace.  So, what is Jesus up to this morning with his gloom and doom talk about family division?

There are two places in Luke’s gospel where we find a basic job description for Jesus.  First, when Mary went to visit Elizabeth when both women were pregnant, the child in Elizabeth’s womb, aka John the Baptist, leapt for joy.  Then Mary sang the words many of us know as the Magnificat.  The Magnificat, based on the Song of Hannah in 1 Samuel, includes these words:  

He has shown strength with his arm;

   he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,

   and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things,

   and sent the rich away empty.

This is part 1 of Jesus’ job description.  The second part of the job description is in Luke 4 at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry when he enters the synagogue in Nazareth and reads from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. 

‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

   because he has anointed me

     to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

   and recovery of sight to the blind,

     to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

When Jesus finishes, he says to the congregation “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”  At first, the people listening are amazed at the gracious words coming from Jesus.  But then, when they realize that Jesus’ gracious words are not for them alone, they are furious and want to throw Jesus off a cliff. 

In these two passages, we hear that Jesus has come to turn the world upside down.  He has come to bring good news to the poor and show the rich what real wealth is.  He has come to lift the lowly, and show the powerful what true power looks like.  He has come to feed the hungry and show the rich the food that really satisfies.  In the gospel world of Jesus, the outsiders are insiders, the rich are poor, the last are first, and death brings life.   This is what the Kingdom of God looks like.  

This morning, Jesus tells us that he has come to make the Kingdom of God a present reality and to light a fire under us.  In the Hebrew scriptures, fire is a sign of the divine presence as God led the Hebrew people out of Egypt as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  Fire is also about purification, as we hear from John the Baptist at the beginning of Luke’s gospel when he warns the gathered crowds that “every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”  Jesus has come to bring gospel values to earth and he is as serious as fire about his mission.

Jesus has nothing against peace.  But he is not competing in a popularity contest either.  Jesus is clear this morning that he has a job to do, a mission to fulfill, and he knows there will be deep resistance to his words just as there was deep resistance in Nazareth when he started his ministry.  Some will choose to follow him and others will not.  Even within families, some will choose to follow and others will not, and that choice will create division in those families.  Jesus does not say this morning that families are bad, or that division is good or some goal to be achieved.  Jesus is being honest and telling his followers that division happens.  In the late first century world in which Luke was written, Christians were experiencing exactly what Jesus describes this morning as some in a family chose to follow Jesus and pay the price and others did not.  Today, some families are deeply divided over issues of faith.  If peace is the goal of following Jesus, those in families that have divided over whether or how to follow Jesus can easily feel like failures.  Jesus tells his followers that division is not failure, but division may be part of the price we pay for following him.  Jesus never claims that being his follower will be easy.  Jesus’ claim is that following him faithfully will have a cost.  Jesus’ promise is that following him will make the Kingdom of God a more present reality on earth, and that following him always leads to life. 

                                                          Amen.