Divine Possibility

 Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 30, 2020

17 Proper A 

          In a week that has seen wildfires in California destroy almost 400,000 acres of land and livelihood, hurricane Laura leave a wake of devastation destroying homes and whole communities, racial violence and protests in Kenosha, Wisconsin, political strife and turmoil as we approach a political election, on a Sunday when we ask God’s blessing on our teachers and students for a school year like no other, we hear the story of Moses and the burning bush.  Moses is out beyond the wilderness, keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, when he has an encounter with God in the form of a burning bush that is not consumed by the fire.  In the face of all that challenges us, about which there seems to be precious little we can do to make a difference, a respite out beyond the wilderness, away from the problems of the world, where we could tend sheep, metaphorically at least, and perhaps encounter the Divine along the way sounds pretty good.

          Moses, however, is not just out enjoying a nice pastoral respite.  When we last saw Moses, he was a baby.  Last Sunday, we heard the story of his birth and how he was hidden from Pharaoh until he was three months old, because Pharaoh wanted to kill all the Israelite male babies.  When his mother put him in a basket in the river, one of Pharaoh’s daughters found him, took him as her own, and hired Moses’ own mother to nurse him.  Now, Moses is grown, married, and working for his father-in-law. That’s a lot of growing up in a week!  And between last Sunday and today, Moses has killed an Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew and fled for his life.  So, when we find Moses out beyond the wilderness this morning, he is in hiding from the Pharaoh who is ready to exact revenge for the murder of an Egyptian.  Moses’ plan for his life is to stay out of harm’s way, work for his father-in-law and put the past behind him.

          God has other ideas, however.  God has heard the cry of God’s people, who are enslaved in Egypt.  God knows their suffering and God has a plan.  God’s plan is for Moses, a fugitive on the run, to return to the scene of the crime and ask the person who most wants his life, Pharaoh, if he can please release the Israelite people, who we know Pharaoh fears losing because that is why he enslaved and oppressed the Israelites to begin with.  No wonder Moses protests “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”  What part of God’s plan makes any sense at all?

            Jesus has a plan this morning that makes no sense whatsoever to Peter.  Last week we heard Jesus ask the disciples “Who do you say that I am?”  And we heard Peter reply “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”  This week, Jesus predicts his own suffering, death, and resurrection.  Jesus’ words do not fit with Peter’s plan for Jesus at all.  When Peter responds “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you!”, Jesus’ rebuke cuts to the bone.  “Get behind me Satan.  You are a stumbling block to me, for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”  Peter, who last week was given the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, is now being called Satan.

          Moses and Peter have two things in common.  Both are flawed people who are asked to do big things by God.  Moses killed someone and Peter is so totally wrong about who Jesus is that Jesus calls him Satan. Yet God still intends for Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, and Peter still holds the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven.  Secondly, both are setting their minds on human things rather than divine ones.  Moses cannot wrap his head around the idea that he should be the one to lead the people out of Egypt, not understanding the power of God to work through him.  Peter cannot imagine that the Son of the Living God would suffer and die, not understanding what God will accomplish through Jesus’ suffering and death.  Both are focused on human limitations rather than divine possibility.

          In the midst of all that is going on in the world today, Jesus calls us to set our mind on divine possibility, not human limitations.  In the face of natural disasters, disease, racial unrest, political turmoil, and decisions we never thought we would have to make for our children, what could Jesus possibly mean?

          I believe at least a piece of the answer is found in the reading from Romans.  “Let love be genuine….hold fast to what is good…outdo one another in showing honor…contribute to the needs of the saints…extend hospitality to strangers…do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”  Setting our mind on divine possibility rather than human limitation is to focus on what God can do through us, not what we cannot do alone.  What amazing work can God do through us when we love, hold fast to what is good, contribute to the needs of the world, or offer hospitality to strangers, whether people we do not know or people with whom we disagree.  What can God do through us when we rejoice in hope, practice patience in suffering, and persevere in prayer?  When we believe that there is precious little we can do in the face of so many challenges, we are setting our minds on human limitation.  Jesus calls us to set our minds on divine possibility and ask what God, working through us, can accomplish.  God working through Moses will liberate God’s people from Egypt.  In Jesus, Peter will see God triumph over death.  What might God accomplish through us in these challenging times when we set our minds not on human limitation but on divine possibility?                                                                       

                                                                        Amen.

Normal

 

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 23, 2020

16 Proper A 

          “When will life go back to normal?”  As we move further and further away from February and more and more into pandemic life, I both hear and ask this question more and more.  Anyone on the Christ Church staff will tell you that I am not immune to longing for life to get back to normal. I think most of us wish for the time when we could come and go as we please-without a second thought about whether we have a mask on hand, a time when we could worship in our comfortable and familiar ways, when decisions about how to educate our children did not involve a life threatening virus, and we could see family and friends, plan vacations, and do so many other things that have been interrupted by this virus.  “Normal” is defined as the way life was back in February and we ask “When will life get back to normal?”

          I imagine that the Israelite people were wondering the same thing as they toiled away in the hot Egyptian sun.  The Israelite people had a good relationship with the Egyptians when Joseph was alive as Joseph was the one who kept the Egyptian people from starving during the famine.  But now there is a king who never knew Joseph, nor the story of Joseph’s people.  Because the Israelites were so numerous and strong, the Egyptian king was afraid.  Fear caused the Egyptian king to force the Israelites into hard labor.  But the more the Israelites were oppressed, the more they multiplied, which created greater fear among the Egyptians who demanded harder service from the Israelites.  The Israelite people must have wondered when life would get back to normal.

          When Joseph’s people have been pushed to work harder than humanly possible and were still multiplying, the king of Egypt ordered all of the Hebrew baby boys to be killed at birth.  Rather than getting back to normal, life is getting unimaginably wretched. 

          Enter Shiphrah and Puah, two Hebrew midwives who refuse to obey the King’s command.   These two women were unlikely candidates to stand up to power.  They were not politicians, royalty, or military leaders.  The two midwives are two ordinary women going about the work they have been called to do, delivering babies.  In the course of that very normal work, they are given the opportunity to make a difference, and they do.  And their work moves the story of God’s people forward as the baby Moses is not killed, ends up being raised in Pharaoh’s house thanks to the shrewdness of Moses’ sister, and eventually-to jump way ahead in the story-leads the Hebrew people out of Egypt.

          Shiphrah and Puah do not move the story of God’s people backward to the “normal” the people knew when Joseph was ruler of Egypt.  The two women push the story forward as they find creative, even subversive ways to thwart Pharaoh’s plan.   In answer to the question “When will life go back to normal,” God’s response is to call the people forward into new ways of being God’s people.  I believe the same is true for us.  Getting back to normal is to look only backwards rather than live into the new story God is creating.

          In the reading from Romans, Paul says “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God-what is good and acceptable and perfect.”  In good times and even more so in challenging times, God calls us to allow ourselves to be transformed, to be changed, so that we can discern the will of God.  Shiphrah and Puah refused to be conformed to the world and discerned that the will of God was not in killing the baby boys of the Hebrew mothers.  The daughter of the Pharaoh, the very man who ordered the killing of the babies, was not conformed to the world as she took a Hebrew baby boy as her own son, having discerned what was good and acceptable and perfect. The world calls us to look back and set our sights on what has gone before.  God calls us to be transformed and look forward to being the people God is calling us to be.

          This morning, Jesus asks the disciples “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”  The disciples reply “Some say John the Baptist, but others say Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”  The disciples report that the people are looking back to figure out who Jesus is.  Jesus then asks “But who do you say that I am?”  And Simon’s response is “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”  Simon is transformed in that moment, as he looks not backwards, but forward to see what God is doing.  As a symbol of that transformation, Jesus gives Simon a new name and the disciple is known by the name Peter from that point forward.  As we will hear next week, Peter is not immune to looking backwards as he misunderstands what it means to be the Son of God, but Peter does know that Jesus is not someone from the past.

          Jesus asks us “Who do you say that I am?”  If we answer with Peter, and claim that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God, that answer means that we are willing and ready to move forward with Jesus into new life.  If we answer with Peter, we, like Shiphrah and Puah, are offering our gifts for use in creative, and perhaps subversive ways, to move the story of God and God’s people forward.  If we answer with Peter, we are allowing ourselves to be transformed, not held to the values of the world, but willing to discern the will of God-what is good and acceptable and perfect-and look with excitement to the future.   

                                                                                      Amen.

Presence

 

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 9, 2020

14 Proper A 

          My brother has spent a great deal of time working on our family tree.  He has used websites, cemeteries, books, and countless online sources to trace the family back well into the 1800’s and some lines even further.  On paper, the tree is a nicely organized piece of work.  Some lines are sparse and others are quite full.  But each line represents a story, most of which we don’t know, but some of which we do.  Some stories are romantic.  My mother’s parents eloped in 1928 because my grandmother was a home economics teacher and teachers were not allowed to be married then. So they eloped and told no one about their marriage for quite a while.  Some stories are hard-people who died too young, or couldn’t marry their true love because of race or religion, or lives interrupted by war.  And most of the lines are of people who simply worked hard, raised a family, and tried to do good in the world.  But behind every name on the family tree there is a story, known or unknown.

          For weeks now, we have been hearing about the family tree that God has chosen to be a blessing to the world.  Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel and Leah, and now Joseph.  On paper, this family tree looks pretty well thought out and organized.  But scripture does not hide the stories behind the family tree.  Abraham nearly sacrifices his son Isaac, and the two never speak again.  Jacob, the younger son, tricked his father, Isaac, into giving Jacob the birthright of the eldest son Esau.  Then Jacob was tricked into marrying Rachel’s older sister, Leah, before he could also marry Rachel.  Today we hear about two additional wives of Jacob, Bilhah and Zilpah, handmaids of Rachel and Leah who Jacob also married, and the tension between the 12 sons of these various wives.  Joseph was the favorite son of Jacob because he was the first-born son of Rachel, Jacob’s favorite wife.  Now we hear that Joseph is a tattle tale and his brothers hate him.  In an act of extreme sibling rivalry, the 11 brothers plotted Joseph’s demise.  They threw Joseph into a pit, then sold him to some Midianite traders who took Joseph to Egypt.  If this sounds like a huge, hot mess to you, you are hearing correctly.  On paper, we have a nice lineage from Abraham and Sarah down to Joseph.  But the story behind the family tree has twists and turns that boggle the mind.

Jesus’ disciples are in a different sort of hot mess this morning.  After feeding 5000 men, plus women and children, Jesus had the disciples get in a boat and head to the other side of the lake.  They are in the middle of the lake, with the wind against them, fighting their way to the other side, when they see what they believe to be a ghost.  Peter wants proof that this ghost is really Jesus so, at Jesus’ invitation, Peter climbs out of the boat and attempts to walk on the water to Jesus.  When he sees the strong wind, Peter becomes frightened and begins to sink.  Jesus saves him with a reprimand: “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

This story leads us to believe that if Peter just had enough faith, he could walk on water like Jesus.  But there are two problems with this line of thinking.  First, throughout scripture, control over the seas belongs to God, not humans.  God caused the great flood that wiped out all living things not on Noah’s ark, and God caused the rains to stop.  God parted the Red Sea, so that Moses could lead the Hebrew people across the water and away from the Egyptians.  In the book of Jonah, “the Lord hurled a great wind upon the sea, and such a mighty storm came upon the sea that the ship threatened to break up.”  The list goes on and on.  The ability to control the sea belongs to God, not humans.

Secondly, Peter’s problem when he begins to sink is identified as fear.  But when Jesus rescues Peter, he says “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  What Peter and the disciples doubted was the identity of Jesus.  First, the disciples thought Jesus was a ghost.  And, at 3am in the pitch dark in the middle of the water in a boat being battered by waves, a ghost makes much more sense than thinking that Jesus has strolled out on the water to check on them.  Then Peter says “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Peter is testing the identity of their visitor.  When Peter begins to sink and Jesus says “You of little faith. Why did you doubt?” the only thing Peter has doubted is the identity of Jesus.  The point of the story is to prove that Jesus is God, not to make the disciples feel badly because they cannot walk on water.  And at the end of the story, the point has been made, as the disciples say “Truly you are the son of God.”

In the Hebrew Scriptures, God identifies himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  In other words, God identifies himself as the God of the whole complicated mess of a story that we find in the book of Genesis.  God does not give up on the Hebrew people, no matter how much they doubt, how much trouble they get into, or how far they stray.  God is their God and they are God’s people for the long haul.  In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us.  By having power over the stormy seas, Jesus demonstrates that he is God.  By coming out to the disciples in the boat, Jesus demonstrates that he is with them.  The story about Jesus walking on the water is not a story designed to make us feel inadequate because we do not have the faith to walk on water.  We are humans.  We are not called to walk on water.  When times are fearful and our boat is being battered by waves and is far from land, or when we feel like we’ve been thrown in a pit and sold into bondage, whether we are in a self-made mess or one we have absolutely no control over, Jesus does not expect us to walk on water.  Jesus does expect us to believe that he can walk on water, that he is with us, and that his presence matters.  Jesus’ presence with us gives us the courage we need to do the work of justice and peace Jesus calls us to do.  Jesus’ presence with us gives us the courage to withstand whatever storm we find ourselves in.  Jesus’ presence with us means we never face anything alone.  The promise of the gospel is that in good times, and especially in frightful and difficult times, Jesus is with us.  And Jesus’ presence matters!

                                                                             Amen.

Little Things

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 2, 2020

13 Proper A

          A couple of years ago, I was invited to a wedding shower, the theme of which was “little things.”  The guests were invited to bring a small thing that brought them joy such as a recipe, or a candle, or their favorite tea or coffee or cookbook.  The bride received a wonderful assortment of little things that make a house or an apartment a home, some of which were new, some of which were family heirlooms ready for a new generation, and all of which brought joy to the giver.  I had never been to such a wedding shower and I was struck, not only by the gifts, but by the stories that accompanied the gifts.  Some people talked about how the item gave them joy.  Others spoke of the history of a family item.  All of those little things were blessed in their giving and represented a huge amount of love and blessing for this bride and her new life.

          Little things seem like the theme of our gospel reading this morning.  A great crowd of people have followed Jesus to a deserted place, where Jesus has compassion on them and cures their sick.  At dinner time, the disciples urge Jesus to send the crowds away to find some food, but Jesus tells the disciples to give the crowd of 5000 men plus women and children something to eat. 

          How, exactly, are the disciples supposed to whip up a meal on the spot for about 10,000 people?  They have five loaves of bread and two fish.  Little things, actually, especially in the face of so many hungry people.  But Jesus takes those little things, blesses and breaks them, then gives the food to the disciples to distribute.  When everyone had eaten their fill, there were twelve baskets full leftover, or more food than they had to start with.

          Much has been written about this story, trying to explain exactly how Jesus fed so many with so little.  Some say that when the little bit was shared, everyone started sharing what they had so there was more than enough.  But there is no evidence in the story that anyone had brought a picnic with them.  Jesus and the disciples are all clear that the people will need to be fed one way or another.  Others say that when we are really hungry, only a small bit of food is needed for us to feel full. While that might be true, that explanation does not account for the 12 baskets full that were left. Still others recognize that this is a miracle pure and simple.  And if we could just figure out how to replicate the miracle we could solve the problem of world hunger overnight.

          Tonight, we will host an online service to acknowledge and pray for what I call “pandemic grief”.  Whether we have experienced the grief of a loved one, or mourn the loss of life the way we knew it in February, or feel the loss of the Eucharist, or the ability to sing together, or have lost a job or other opportunity, or miss family and loved ones and milestone events, whether our grief seems to us to be large overwhelming grief or small, nuisance grief, I think most of us have wrestled with grief in this uncertain and challenging time. And if you are like me, perhaps you have wrestled with God a bit, too.

          In our reading from Genesis, Jacob wrestles with a man who turns out to be God.  After a night of wrestling, Jacob tells the man that he will not let the man go unless the man blesses Jacob. Jacob is blessed by God and given a new name, Israel.  Jacob has wrestled with God, been blessed and given a new name, and walks away with a limp.  The limp is a sign that Jacob was not unharmed by the wrestling match, even as Jacob was blessed.  Jacob was blessed AND changed through his wrestling match with God.

          Jesus reminds us this morning that when we offer what we have to God, no matter how small or large, whether something good or something hard, and allow what we have to be broken by God and blessed, what we offer becomes a blessing to many.  Jacob reminds us that when we offer ourselves to God at our deepest level, and wrestle with God whatever our challenge, we will be blessed and changed.  And, while we often talk about offering our little bit of time, or money, or other resources to God, or wrestling with God over God’s call on our lives, or some injustice in the world or some other brokenness, I believe, the same applies to our grief.  When we offer that for which we mourn to God, that which we have lost no matter whether a large thing or a seemingly little thing, and allow God to break it and bless it as with the little bit of bread and the fish, the grief we have offered can become a blessing to ourselves and others.  We become more aware of what really matters to us, more compassionate, more deeply connected with each other and God, and more driven to make a difference.  And, like Jacob who wrestled with God, when we walk out of this wilderness, we will have been changed in ways we cannot imagine.  We may walk with a limp, metaphorical or literal, but we will, like Jacob, will walk out of the wilderness to be a blessing to the world.

                                                                                      Amen.