Monday, March 20, 2017

Wrestling

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 12, 2017
2 Lent A
The course “Philosophy of Religion” was one of the greatest challenges of my academic career.  The course was taught by a professor in the philosophy department, which should have been my first clue that I was in over my head.  But I had always worked hard and done well in school.  I figured if I read the material, went to class, paid attention, and did the assignments, I would be fine.  I was oh, so very wrong.  Looking through the books for the course, there were sentences that rambled on for entire paragraphs, words that I could not pronounce, much less decipher, and chapter titles that boggled my mind.  But, I kept telling myself, the class could not be that bad.


My naivete was short lived.  The syllabus was pretty much the only thing about the class that I understood.  Neither the readings nor the explanations of the readings made sense.  The comments of my fellow students did not make sense.  The answers never seemed to match the questions.  I felt like I was on a different planet and everyone else spoke a language I did not understand.  I thought about dropping the class.  In the end, I wrestled and struggled my way through the writing of a paper on some subject I do not remember, turned the paper in, and to my great surprise, got full credit for having wrestled diligently with whatever the subject of the paper was.  For the first time in my life, I had taken a class where the point was not to accomplish a certain number of tasks to gain mastery of a subject, but to surrender myself to wrestling with something beyond my comprehension. 


Nicodemus finds himself in a similarly perplexing and frustrating situation this morning.  Nicodemus knows that Jesus turned an enormous amount of water into an equal amount of wine at the wedding in Cana.  Nicodemus also knows that Jesus drove the money changers out of the temple with an impressive display of passion, if not fury.  Now Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, comes to Jesus in the dark of the night and says “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.”  Perhaps Nicodemus is just curious.  Or maybe he would like to be able to do such signs and be a more effective leader.  Or perhaps he is looking for a deeper relationship with God.  Whatever Nicodemus’ motive, I doubt he expected Jesus to reply: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without first being born from above.”  What is that supposed to mean?  Is Nicodemus to enter his mother’s womb and be born again?  While a concrete explanation of what Jesus meant would be nice, Jesus makes matters worse by continuing with “No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water and the Spirit.  What is born of the flesh is flesh, what is born of the Spirit is spirit.”  How is that supposed to help Nicodemus understand?  Nicodemus and Jesus might as well have been speaking different languages, and the answers certainly do not seem to fit the questions.  Nicodemus came to Jesus to find out about the signs, which he understood to be miracles, and Jesus is talking about being born of the Spirit.  Nicodemus must be thinking that he should have just stayed home that night.


When Jesus sees that Nicodemus is truly perplexed, Jesus reminds Nicodemus of a story that Nicodemus certainly knows.  In the book of Numbers, the Hebrew people got tired of wandering in the wilderness and they begin to grumble against God and against Moses.  They said “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?  For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable manna.”  God is fed up with all the complaining, so God sent poisonous serpents among the people.  The serpents bit the people and they died.  When the people realize that they had sinned against the Lord, God said to Moses “Make a bronze serpent and set it on a pole; everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.”  Moses did as God asked, and from then on, anyone bitten by a poisonous serpent could look at the bronze serpent on the pole and live.  Whatever we might think about a story in which God inflicts poisonous serpents on God’s people, Jesus has finally said something Nicodemus can understand.  Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness so the people could live, so Jesus will be lifted up so that whoever believes in him will have eternal life.  We will next see Nicodemus when he arrives at the cross with Joseph of Arimathea to remove the dead body of Jesus and place it in the tomb.


The gospel ends with what Martin Luther called the “Gospel in miniature.”  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.”  Nicodemus came to Jesus to understand the signs.  What he got in return was a description of a relationship so intimate it can only be described using the language of childbirth.  Nicodemus wanted to gain mastery of a subject that he knew came from God.  Jesus wanted him to wrestle with a relationship that cannot be captured any more than the wind can be captured.  When Nicodemus needed something more concrete, Jesus reminded him of a story in which God’s gift of life is exactly that...a gift, certainly nothing the people earned or even understood.  When Jesus offers the “Gospel in miniature” to Nicodemus, and to us, Jesus is not finally giving up and offering us a sound-bite that makes sense and fits well on a billboard.  Jesus offers us the gospel about the God who is beyond our comprehension, who loves us in a way that is beyond our understanding, and has given us eternal life as a gift, nothing we can earn and beyond anything we can imagine.  Jesus has given us the gospel, not as a subject to be mastered, but as a gift and a mystery to wrestle with.

Amen.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Wilderness

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 5, 2017

1 Lent A
          My first clergy colleague when I came out of seminary was something of a wilderness man.  Think John the Baptist in a clergy collar.  David’s idea of a good time was to be dropped off by himself at the entrance of a vast wilderness area in Michigan’s upper peninsula with nothing but the clothes he was wearing and a small backpack.  He would eat what he could find and sleep where he could.  This was not a state park with cabins, indoor plumbing, or cooking facilities.  This was nothing but acres and acres of wilderness.  Weeks later, his wife would pick him back up at the entrance, unshowered, unshaved, unkempt, but happy.  How David even knew what day he would be picked up is beyond me.  How does one keep track of the days out in the wilderness?  This was before cell phones were readily available, and my guess is that he doesn’t own one even today.  And if he had one, how would he have kept it charged in the wilderness?  Somehow, David managed not only to survive his wilderness time, but to thrive there.  The challenge of conquering the wilderness energized David and I believe he experienced something of God there.

          We hear two wilderness stories from scripture this morning.  In the story from Genesis, we hear about Adam and Eve’s disobedience in the garden.  God has put Adam and Eve in the garden to till it and to keep it.  Then God gives Adam some simple instructions about what may, and may not be eaten.  And we know what happened after that.  In short Adam and Eve eat from the fruit of the one forbidden tree and realize they are naked.  The lectionary reading stops before we get to God’s response, but obviously God is not going to be happy with this turn of events.  God had said “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, for of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you shall not eat.  For in the day that you eat of it, you shall die.” 

          What is God’s response to Adam and Eve’s disobedience?  If we read further in chapter 3, we will hear God’s fury as he addresses first the serpent, then Eve, then Adam.  But, Adam and Eve do not die that day and God certainly does not kill them.  In fact, after God finishes rebuking them, God makes garments of skin for Adam and Eve and God clothes them.  And then God sends Adam and Eve forth from the garden to till the ground from which Adam was taken.  The picture of God that we get from the whole story, and not just the piece in today’s reading, is of a God who deeply loves the creatures God has made, to the point of making garments for them and clothing them, even after they have disobeyed the one simple command God gave them.  While God does send Adam and Eve out of the garden and into the wilderness, God gives them what they need to survive there in an act of love and compassion.

          This morning, we also hear about Jesus’ time in the wilderness.  When the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness, Jesus is still wet from his baptism and the words of the voice from heaven are still ringing in his ears “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  We are not told what happens during the forty days and forty nights in the wilderness, other than that Jesus did not eat.  But the last thing Jesus heard before entering the wilderness was God’s voice saying “This is my Son, the beloved.” The first voice Jesus hears in the wilderness is the voice of the tempter saying “If you are the Son of God.” So, my hunch is that Jesus spent some time in the wilderness wrestling with what it means to be the Son of God.  What we learn from Jesus’ response to the three temptations is that whatever it means to be the Son of God, it does not mean using special powers, like the ability to turning stones into bread, or calling on special protection such as safety if he throws himself off the top of the temple, or abusing special privilege such as having all the kingdoms of the world.  When the devil departs, presumably in frustration, angels come and wait on Jesus.

We all find ourselves in the wilderness from time to time.  Sometimes entering the wilderness is completely our choice, like my colleague David.  Sometimes we enter a wilderness of our own making, like Adam and Eve.  Sometimes we wake up to one morning to a wilderness not of our own making when suddenly our whole life has been turned upside down-by natural disaster, diagnosis, or tragedy.  And sometimes we are led by the Spirit into the wilderness as Jesus was, and as we are during Lent, to spend some time deliberately figuring out what it means to be a child of God.  Lent is not about entering the wilderness to be without God.  Lent is a time to enter the wilderness so we recognize our dependence on God and wonder more deeply about who we are as children of God.

In both of stories this morning, and in all the wilderness stories in Scripture, no matter the cause of the wilderness, God is present.  God did not abandon Adam and Eve, and God does not abandon us, even when the wilderness is of our own making.  God did not abandon Jesus, and God does not abandon us, when we enter the wilderness voluntarily.  And God did not abandon Jesus and does not abandon us in the darkest wilderness of our lives, when all hope seems pointless.  In the wilderness, however we got there and no matter how desolate, we learn more deeply who we are as children of God, and how to be sustained by nothing more and nothing less, than the sheer presence of God who never abandons us.


                                                                   Amen.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Gifts

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 1, 2017
Ash Wednesday

          The season of Epiphany began almost two months ago with the visit of the Magi to the child Jesus.  The Magi brought Jesus three gifts, fit for a king.  They arrived with gold, frankincense, and myrrh as gifts appropriate for the one born King of the Jews.  If Jesus is a king, the magi thought, he should have these things.

          The season of Epiphany has come to an end and the season of Lent has now begun.  On Ash Wednesday, Jesus gives us three gifts.  We don't normally think of Ash Wednesday as a time to receive gifts.  Instead, we think of Ash Wednesday and Lent as a time of self-denial.  But in the Ash Wednesday gospel lesson, Jesus talks about three gifts; gifts fit for children of God.  Those gifts are almsgiving, prayer, and fasting.  If we are children of God, we should have these things. In a service in which we confess a whole host of ways we fail to live as God's children, it is easy to assume that almsgiving, prayer, and fasting are, if not punishment for our sins, at least our way of making things up to God, or earning a little forgiveness. We are also tempted to understand fasting as just about giving up food, prayer as just about talking to God, and almsgiving as about putting a few more dollars in the offering plate.  On Ash Wednesday, however, we are reminded that forgiveness is God's job, and that these are gifts, not punishments.

          The first gift Jesus mentions is almsgiving.  Almsgiving is not just a matter of denying ourselves so that we have some extra money to give to the poor.  Almsgiving is about acknowledging that all of humanity is connected and that when one person suffers from lack of food, clothing, or shelter, we are all responsible for that.  In the first letter to the Corinthians, Paul reminds us that we are all one body, and that when one part of the body suffers, all suffer.  When one part of the body is homeless, or hungry, or marginalized, we are all broken. Almsgiving reminds us that we are all connected in a world that stresses rugged individualism.  The litany of penitence, which we will pray in a few minutes, gives us a whole host of ways that we fail to live as if we are connected to our fellow human being: not loving our neighbor as ourselves, our dishonesty in our daily life and work, our exploitation of other people, and blindness to human need and suffering.  Jesus offers us the gift of almsgiving as a way to reconnect and be reminded that God made us all from the dust of the earth and that we are all connected.

          Jesus' second gift is the gift of prayer.  The world tells us that we should fill our lives with activity, and the one who accomplishes the most, wins.  From sun up to sun down and beyond, we are busy to the point that busyness has become competitive sport.  Jesus' tells us to stop.  Stop and make room for God.  Be still and feel the connection not only with each other but with the God who created us.  That is prayer.  In our Litany of Penitence we also confess the ways we fail to make room for God: filling our lives with our self-indulgent appetites and ways, our negligence in prayer and worship, our pride, hypocrisy and impatience, and our love of worldly goods and comforts.  Jesus offers us the gift of prayer as a way to empty ourselves of that which clutters our souls and make room for the God who creates in us a new and contrite heart. 

          Jesus' final gift is the gift of fasting.  Fasting is usually and historically associated with abstaining from food.  In a world that tells us that the one who dies with the most toys, wins, fasting can have a broader meaning.  We fill our lives with possessions, people, food, all kinds of things in order to make ourselves feel full.  Jesus calls us to a different kind of fullness.  Jesus calls us to a life that is full and rich because it is centered in the richness of God's Spirit.  Again, in the Litany of Penitence we confess the many ways we try to make ourselves feel less empty by relying on material things rather than God for that sense of fullness: our self- indulgent appetites and ways, our intemperate love of worldly goods, our waste and pollution of creation.  Jesus offers us the gift of fasting so that we may know God as the source of our contentment and fullness.

          In the reading from 2 Corinthians, Paul entreats us to be reconciled to God.  Lent is a time to live into that reconciliation and to learn how to better live as the children of God we were created to be.  Jesus does not leave us to our own devices to figure out how to do that, but instead gives us almsgiving, prayer, and fasting as gifts to help us on that journey.  In a few minutes, we will be anointed with ashes in the form of a cross, just as we were anointed with oil at our baptism in the form of a cross.  Both the cross made of oil and the one made of ashes are reminders that we are children of God, not the world, and that without God, we are empty.  On this Ash Wednesday, Jesus offers us the gifts of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, not to make us suffer for our sins, but so that we may deepen our relationship with the God who created us. May this Lenten time of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving be a holy time that breathes life into the dust of our being.

                                                                             Amen

Monday, February 27, 2017

Engage

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 26, 2017

The Last Sunday after the Epiphany

          The church camp in the Diocese of Arkansas sits up a mountain on the edge of a cliff.  When I was in high school and college, that camp was the site of many mountain top experiences.  Deep friendships were formed there that lasted decades into my adulthood.  We all experienced God through those friendships, worship, the beautiful view, and music.  At Camp Mitchell, I learned what a powerful form of prayer song can be, which is perhaps the most enduring lesson of my time there.  While we were at camp, whether for a weekend, a week, or a summer, our time on the mountain was an escape from the realities at home-the realities of school, chores, and work-and we basked in the glory of our time on the mountain.  Given a choice, we would have stayed on the mountain forever.  But absent a choice, we trudged back down the mountain to get on with our lives.  I’d love to say that we all went home better human beings, and I’d like to think that we were at least marginally so.  But I do think we went home with a bit more confidence in ourselves and in God as we re-entered reality.

          Our gospel lesson this morning begins “Six days later.” Six days ago, Jesus asked the disciples “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter answered “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”  Jesus is thrilled with Peter’s answer and gives him the keys to the kingdom of Heaven.  But then Jesus begins to teach the disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders, and chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day, be raised.  Peter, who has just proclaimed Jesus the Messiah, the Son of the Living God, objects. Peter says “God forbid it, Lord.  This must never happen to you.”  Jesus’ response to Peter is “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.”  This to the person who has just been given the keys to the kingdom of heaven!

          Six days later, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain by themselves.  The three disciples must have been hoping for an escape from any notion of suffering and death, and certainly from having been called Satan.  On the mountain, Jesus is transfigured in both their presence and the presence of Moses and Elijah.  This is definitely more like what Peter had in mind.  In Peter’s excitement, he offers to build three booths, one for Moses, one for Elijah, and one for Jesus, so they can all stay on that mountain and live in that glory forever. 

          Peter gets to bask in the escape of mountain top glory for about a nano-second before God intervenes.  We hear God’s voice say “This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.  Listen to him!”  We heard the same voice say the same thing at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  The difference is that this time God has added the command “Listen to him.” What Jesus says to his three disciples, who are face down on the ground, shaking with fear, is this: “Get up, and do not be afraid.”

          Fear is what led Peter to protest Jesus’ teaching that Jesus must suffer, die, and after 3 days be raised from the dead.  Fear is what led Peter to make his offer to construct three dwellings, so that the horrible things Jesus’ predicted could never come true.  Fear was the disciples’ response to the voice from heaven.  God tells the disciples that they are to listen to Jesus, and Jesus has told the disciples to put away their fear and head down the mountain towards Jerusalem.

          This morning, we baptize Emma Angeloni, and in the words of the church, she will be claimed as a child of God, with whom God is well pleased, just as Jesus was claimed at his baptism and again at his transfiguration.  A baptism is a mountain top experience in its own way-for us as we welcome this child into the household of God and promise to do all in our power to support her in her new life in Christ, for Emma as she is marked as one of Christ’s own forever, for her parents, godparents, and all who loved her as they present her to be cleansed from sin and born again.  But just as the transfiguration was not escape but sent Jesus and the disciples down the mountain to head toward Jerusalem, baptism is not an escape either.  Baptism is new way of engagement that sends us down the mountain to follow Jesus where Jesus goes and to engage the world as Jesus engages it, not fearful of what is to come, but faithful.  The promises of the baptismal covenant remind us over and over again how we are to engage the world as baptized people, nourished by the breaking of bread and prayers, so that we can resist evil, respect the dignity of every human being, seek and serve Christ in all people, and work for justice and peace.  The prayer over the baptismal water reminds us that in baptism we are united with Christ in his death and resurrection so there is nothing to fear.

          At the end of our worship this morning, we will bury the alleluias with joyful song as we create our own little mountain top experience.  Because for me, great hymns are a deep experience of God, I could certainly stay on this mountain forever and sing great hymns.  We will come down off the mountain with Jesus that ends the season of epiphany light and joy, and enter the wilderness of Lent.  Our Lenten journey will take us, with Jesus, through the wilderness and on the road to Jerusalem where Jesus will suffer, be rejected and killed and on the third day be raised, just as he said he would.  If we stay on the mountain where it is safe and comfortable, we will have escaped the wilderness, but Jesus won't be there.  Jesus will be on the road to Jerusalem, stopping along the way to teach and heal and pray.  So, we will journey with Jesus, and our worship over the next weeks will reflect that journey.   And we will travel trusting in the one who said “Get up and do not be afraid.”


                                                                   Amen.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Be Perfect

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 19, 2017

7 Epiphany A

When I was a new, young mother, every parenting book or magazine I read had the same basic advice about discipline and I imagine the advice is similar now. Tell your children what they are to do, not what they are not to do.  So, rather than say “don’t jump on the couch,” say “the couch is for sitting.”  Instead of telling one child not to take from another, the advice was to remind the children to share.  Rather than say “Don’t fill up on junk food,” say “how about eating an apple instead.”  And on and on.  The idea, of course, was to teach good habits and create a positive atmosphere that focused on what was allowed rather than a negative atmosphere that focused on what was forbidden.  The difficulty was in always thinking of something positive to say, when the words that wanted to fly out of my mouth were “Don’t do that.”

God seems to have missed that bit of parenting advice.  This morning, we seem to only hear about what we are not allowed to do.  Do not reap to the edges of your field.  Do not steal.  Do not deal falsely.  Do not lie or swear falsely or defraud, or revile the deaf, or put a stumbling block before the blind, or render an unjust judgement, or hate in your heart.  If all we had was this reading from Leviticus, then we would easily thing that in order to be faithful, we must simply obey the “don’t do” list.


Jesus’ instructions this morning are couched in more positive language, but they are no easier. Once we get past “Do not resist an evildoer,” we hear “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one also.”  And “if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.”  Jesus continues with “Give to everyone who begs from you” and “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”  If this short piece from the Sermon on the Mount was all we had, being faithful would seem impossible and we might find ourselves longing for a nice long “don’t do” list from Leviticus!

Happily, neither of these passages are all we have of Scripture, and indeed, we have all of Scripture with which to interpret them.  The reading from Leviticus begins with the words “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” This passage is set in the context of a faith that believes that humans are created in the image of God.  In the book of Genesis we hear the words “In the image of God, God created them, male and female, God created them.”  Since God is holy by definition, then we are image of that which sets the standard for holiness.  How are we, as humans, to know what holiness looks like?  According to Leviticus, one way is through the actions of each other.  This is the context for hearing God’s commands in Leviticus, even if they are not couched in the positive language we might like. We know the holiness of God by acting towards others as God as acted toward us.


Likewise, the gospel reading ends with Jesus’ words “Be perfect, therefore, as your Father in heaven is perfect.”   Last week, we heard Jesus say “You have heard it said that ‘you shall not murder,’ but I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister you are liable to judgement,” and “You have heard it said that you shall not swear falsely...but I say to you ‘you shall not swear at all.’”  This week Jesus takes those instructions a bit further.  “The law says ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”  But I say “Do not resist an evil doer.  But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also....If anyone forces you to go one mile, go the second mile instead.”  And finally “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Does Jesus want any followers at all?  What is Jesus thinking?


Jesus began his public ministry with the words “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.”  Repent means to turn away from all that draws us from God and from being holy.  The Kingdom of God is the realm of the upside down, inside out values of Jesus, where we hear that the last shall be first and the first shall be last, where tax collectors and sinners will dine at the heavenly banquet table, where we are to love our enemies, and where those who recognize their dependence on God will be blessed and those who think they can accomplish salvation on their own may find themselves out of luck.  In that Kingdom, there is no place for the cycle of violence that comes when we live by words like “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” 

Jesus’ words this morning in no way justify domestic violence, even though they have sometimes been heard that way.  This passage does the exact opposite of giving any person permission to abuse someone else, or commanding any one to endure abuse.  Jesus’ instructions are about breaking the bondage to cycles of oppression, not by hitting back, but by breaking free.  Desmond Tutu puts it this way “When we see others as the enemy, we risk becoming what we hate.  When we oppress others, we end up oppressing ourselves.  All of our humanity is dependent on recognizing the humanity of others.”  Today we hear Jesus call us to turn from patterns of behavior that perpetuate violence, dehumanize others and ourselves, and push the Kingdom of Heaven further away rather than drawing that Kingdom closer.  Jesus calls us to the radical generosity, peacemaking and love of the Kingdom of God.  When Jesus was crucified, God did not crucify us back.  God raised Jesus from the dead.  Jesus calls his followers to be perfect as God is perfect. 

“You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.”  “Be perfect, therefore, as your Father in heaven is perfect.”  Our lives reflect the life of the One in whose image we are made.  The way we live our lives as people of faith speaks to the world around us about the God in whom we believe.  Jesus calls his followers to reflect the radical love of God to the world- a love that does not strike back, that gives us more than we could ever ask or imagine, and that loves us even when we are at our most unlovable. The world is starving for that love.  
Amen.




Monday, February 13, 2017

Community

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 12, 2017

6 Epiphany A

          When I was in seminary, every Monday night was pancake night.  Between our family of four and any number of our seminary friends, somewhere between 8-12 people would gather around our dining room table for a meal of chocolate chip and banana pancakes with peanut butter and syrup.  I honestly do not know how the tradition began, other than the fact that Don and I had two young children and pancakes made for a popular and inexpensive meal.  But somehow the pancakes became an event in themselves, and each Monday night a small community would gather for this simple meal and to share our lives.  Our children loved their grown up friends, and our friends loved being at a dinner table with children.  Over the course of two years, this group of friends shared not only the challenges and joys of seminary life but also the challenges of sickness and heartbreak and the joys of new life, accomplishment, and romance.  While we learned a lot of theology, scripture, church history and the other things a person goes to seminary to learn, we also learned about the power and importance of community.  

On the surface, this morning both Moses and Jesus make it sound like the life of faith is about following rules.  As the people stand at the edge of the Promised Land, after wandering in the wilderness for forty years, we hear Moses say “If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess.”   Success of all kinds seems to hinge on obeying the laws.   Jesus takes the laws of Moses and intensifies them, telling the people that not only are they not to commit murder, they are not to be angry or even insult another person.  Not only are they not to commit adultery, they are not to even look at another person with lust.  And the penalties Jesus’ describes for breaking these challenging rules seem downright cruel.  The fires of hell, prison, tearing out an eye, cutting off a hand…where is the Jesus who said “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest?”  Jesus is wearing me out this morning and the life of faith seems very complicated.

          While both Moses and Jesus are talking about laws that God has given to order our lives, neither Moses nor Jesus believes that the life of faith is about following rules.  The life of faith is about living in community with God, each other, and the world around us.  For Moses, obedience to the law is not about how an individual is in individual relationship with God.  God’s commands describe the way faithful people are to be in community with God and each other.  God’s laws are designed so that the community is healthy and faithful.  And choosing to be in faithful community with God and each other is to choose life, even in the midst of adversity.

          The first words of Jesus’ public ministry were “Repent.  For the Kingdom of Heaven has come near.”  Jesus is setting standards for the community that is the Kingdom of Heaven.  In the Kingdom of Heaven, even as experienced on earth, not only do people not murder each other, they treat each other with dignity and respect, choosing not to let anger and insult divide them.  Not only do people not commit adultery, they do not use their words or even their thoughts to objectify other human beings.  No one treats another person as property that can be cast aside, and people are as good as their word.  To live in a community built on these principles is to live in the Kingdom of Heaven.  As with the words of Moses this morning, the life of faith is not about following rules, but about living in faithful community with others and with God. 

          While Moses and Jesus may sound a bit extreme, especially given the dire consequences they both describe for those who make the wrong choice, the way of being in community that they describe is no different than the community we promise to be in our baptismal covenant.  We promise to live in community with God, each other, and the world around us by being faithful in worship and prayer, by resisting evil, by proclaiming the Good News with our words and our lives, by seeking and serving Christ in all people, and by respecting the dignity of every human being.  When we live together this way, we obey the commandments of God.  We don’t live this way in order to receive life, but because God has already given us life.  We live in faithful community as a to response to that gift and to support each other in our quest to live as people of the Kingdom of Heaven.  And because our lives will take twists and turns beyond our control, and we will experience both joys and sorrows we did nothing to deserve, and the life of faith will place demands on us that we cannot imagine, God tells us how to live in community in a way that will sustain us and give us life.  And in that community, we may just find the Jesus who said “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

                                                                             Amen.

          

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Mosquito

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
February 5, 2017

5 Epiphany A
          For a good number of summers, I had the privilege of serving as the chaplain at 4th and 5th grade camp in the Diocese of Southern Ohio.  One summer, we did a project with the children to help them understand the importance of things that are small.  We divided the children into two groups and gave each group the recipe for chocolate chips cookies, along with the ingredients, measuring spoons, and all the other things they needed to bake the cookies.  The recipes were identical except that one recipe called for ½ teaspoon of salt and the other called for no salt.  The salt was the smallest of all the ingredients, so the children could easily think that omitting the salt would not make a difference.

          The children diligently followed the recipe, measuring and mixing the ingredients, scooping the dough onto the cookie sheet, and baking the cookies.  When the cookies came out of the oven, both batches looked pretty much the same.  The difference was in the taste.  The cookies without salt tasted flat, less sweet, and basically like something was off.  They were not terrible, but the cookies made with the salt were full of flavor and tasted the way chocolate chip cookies should taste.  The very small amount of salt made a big difference in the taste of the cookies, which is why we eat them, after all!


This morning, Jesus says “You are the salt of the earth.”  In the ancient world, salt was a luxury item used primarily for two things: the preservation of food, since there was no refrigeration, and to give taste and flavor to food.  In the Hebrew scriptures, which were, of course, Jesus’ scriptures, salt was a symbol of permanence and purification.  The covenant between God and the Israelites is referred to as a “covenant of salt” in the book of Numbers as the people travel through the wilderness.  The salt symbolized the permanence of God’s covenant with the Hebrew people, a covenant that God will keep even when the people do not.


Interestingly, Jesus does not say to his disciples “You will be the salt of the earth,” or “You should be the salt of the earth.”  Jesus is not making a request.  Jesus is stating a fact: “You are the salt of the earth.”  I wonder if Jesus is telling his disciples and us two things about our role as his followers.  First, Jesus is saying that the lives of his disciples demonstrate the flavor and taste of following Jesus.  That does not mean that Jesus’ followers have to be nice all the time.  Jesus certainly wasn’t.  But, as followers of Jesus, our actions give the world the flavor of what we believe Jesus values.  Secondly, when Jesus tells the disciples that they are the salt of the earth, Jesus tells them that they are how the world knows what the covenant between God and God’s people looks like.  Whether we like it or not, and on good days as well as bad days, our actions as people who claim to follow Jesus tell the world about the permanence of God’s love for humankind.  On the one hand, our lives are not to make it look like God is happy with everything we humans do. Because God is not happy with everything we do.  But on the other hand, if all the world sees in our words and actions are judgement and condemnation without hope, respect, and love, the salt of the earth is not being faithful to God’s steadfast love.  And just when we think we might rather play it safe and just be a hidden symbol of God’s love, Jesus tells us that we are also the light of the world.  We are to let our light shine before others so they may see our good works and glorify God.  We can run, but we cannot hide.

If we struggle with how to be faithful salt, we are in good company.  God’s chosen people are wrestling with a similar question in the reading from Isaiah this morning.  The Hebrew people are trying to be faithful and uphold their covenant with God by observing all of God’s laws about diet and worship.  Those laws were given to the people as a way of making all of life holy and pleasing to God.  But God is not happy with the people, because something is missing.  The people may have been worshipping faithfully and following the dietary laws, but those faithful behaviors were not being translated into everyday life and the way they treated other people.  Listen to the words of Isaiah: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”

           We heard something similar last Sunday when the prophet Micah said “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  Jesus tells us this morning that he has come not to abolish the law and the prophets, but to fulfill them.  Over and over again, the law and the prophets tell us that the actions of our lives matter to God.  Our worship, our study of scripture, our spiritual practices and the fellowship we share with one another are all vitally important because they form the actions of our lives.  And the actions of our lives are what engage us with the world around us.  And our engagement with the world is what makes us the salt of the earth.  When we think that what we do as one single, small Christian doesn’t matter, remember both the power of a small amount of salt and the words of the Dalai Lama “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.”

                                                                   Amen.