Real

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 18, 2018

5 Lent B

A reading from “The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams:  

"What is real?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit one day. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" "Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real." "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, who was always truthful. "When you are Real, you do not mind being hurt." "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," the Rabbit asked, "or bit by bit?" "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because when you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

What is real? That is the question The Velveteen Rabbit asks the Skin Horse in this children's story. That question is also at the heart of our gospel lesson this morning.  What is real?

What is real? This morning, some Greeks approach Philip and they say "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." Jesus’ response to the Greek’s request borders on being rude. When Philip and Andrew tell Jesus that the  Greeks wish to see him, instead of saying "yes," or "no," or "let’s meet for coffee tomorrow," Jesus says "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" and goes on about seeds dying and bearing fruit, and so forth.  That sounds like a “no” to me, but I find it rather hard to tell.  What kind of answer is that for those who simply wanted to see Jesus?

What is real? My guess is that the Greeks wanted to see Jesus because they had heard about the water Jesus changed into wine, the blind man Jesus had healed, the 5000 people Jesus fed with a few fish and loaves, and the man Lazarus Jesus had raised from the dead. They wanted to meet Jesus, to talk with him, and to try to understand this man who could do such miraculous things. Perhaps they may have even recognized that this man was from God, since no one could do such wonders apart from God. But those acts, incredible and wonderful as they are, are not what makes Jesus real.

What does make Jesus real? In response to the Greeks' request, Jesus offers three reflections on his death, and why the crucifixion and resurrection make Jesus real, rather than the miracles he has done. First, Jesus states a simple law of nature. In order for there to be more life, there must first be death. "Unless a single grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." In order for Jesus to be present in all times and in all places, to all people, he must die as one seed must die to produce much fruit. Secondly, real discipleship requires death to self-interest in order to have abundant life. "Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life." The reason this is true for Jesus’ followers is because it is true for the one they follow.  In order to have more life, both now and forever, we, like Jesus, are called to give our lives away. And lastly, Jesus’ mission is to draw all the world to himself, and it is in his death that this will happen. Jesus’ death will not prevent his mission from being accomplished. Quite the opposite; according to the gospel of John, Jesus’ death is necessary for his mission to be fulfilled.

Jesus death is real. It is not what the world considers real, however. It is not glossy or shiny or pretty and it most definitely will hurt. It is nothing like having things that buzz inside you or a stick out handle. But if Jesus is to bring all the world to himself, which is John's understanding of salvation, Jesus must be freed from this world through his death, resurrection and ascension.  The Greeks say “Sir, we want to see Jesus.”  The message of Johns' gospel is that through Jesus’ death, resurrection and ascension, people in all times and places can say “We want to see Jesus” and Jesus will be available and present.

So, Jesus does give the Greeks a proper response, although perhaps not the response they were looking for.   We, like the Greeks, want to see Jesus.  We want to know what is real.  So, we will journey through these next two weeks, not leaping ahead to Easter, but walking with Jesus through his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, to his last supper with those whom he loves, his agony in the garden of Gethsemane, the betrayal by those closest to him, his trial and crucifixion, his death and his burial in the tomb. We walk with Jesus, not by simply tagging along, but by looking at our own lives, our pains, our disappointments and hurts, our failures and fears, the deaths we die daily and offering all of that to God for resurrection. We, with Jesus, offer the seeds of our lives to the ground, so that by God’s power those seeds can have new life and our lives can bear much fruit.  With Jesus, we use our lives to show others God’s glory so that they, too, will see Jesus. By connecting our own lives with the death and resurrection of Jesus, we will we experience the power of Easter as something real, and our lives will point to the resurrected Jesus.

Sir, we wish to see Jesus. The promise of the gospel is that through his crucifixion, death, and resurrection, we will see Jesus. And that, my friends, is real.

                                                                   Amen.

Snakes

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 11, 2018

4 Lent B

If our reading from Numbers this morning was the totality of Scripture, I would have to find something else to do with my life.  The problem is not so much the snakes, although they are a bit problematic.  A long time ago in a church not so far away and in this diocese, a parishioner brought his very large pet snake, draped around his shoulders, to church on the Feast of St. Francis for the animal blessing.  The parishioner did not much care for women priests and I did not much care for snakes.  So we were even.  But while a serpent may have gotten Eve to eat the forbidden fruit and be evicted from the Garden of Eden, I was going nowhere.  I blessed the snake with all the conviction I would have blessed a lovely plate of chocolate chip cookies and moved on down the line without so much as a grimace, at least on the outside. 

This morning my problem is less with snakes and more with God.  The Hebrew people have been wandering around in the wilderness for a while now.  The bit of grumbling we hear this morning is not the first time they have grumbled against God by a long shot.  Just about as quickly as God got the people out of Egypt, they were complaining about a lack of good water to drink.  God showed Moses a piece of wood that Moses could throw into the water to make the bitter water sweeter and more drinkable.  Not many verses later, the people are longing to go back to Egypt where at least they had decent food to eat.  So, God gave the people manna, or bread from heaven, to satisfy their hunger.  Then, thirst strikes again, and the people accused Moses of bringing them out into the wilderness to kill them with thirst.  This time, Moses struck a rock with his staff and water emerged from the rock for people to drink.

But this morning, God appears to have had enough.  We are told that the people spoke against God and against Moses and 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."  The people have just told God that they detest the very life-giving bread God has provided.  My mother always told us not to bite the hand that feeds us.  Perhaps the Hebrew people should have thought of that.  Because now God loses patience.  God sends poisonous serpents among the people.  The serpents bite the people and they die.  As a result, the people recognize the error of their ways and repent.  They ask Moses to ask God to take away the serpents.  But rather than remove the creatures, God tells Moses to make a poisonous serpent and set it on a pole, so that those who look at the snake on a stick will live.  Where Moses got the bronze, the mold, and the fire to make the bronze serpent, I have no clue.  But Moses does as he was told and anyone with a snake bite could look at the serpent and live.

The story leaves me with many questions about God.  Why is God's patience suddenly exhausted by the complaining Hebrews?  Not only do the Hebrews complain in the wilderness, but the psalms are full of complaints hurled against God.  We just call them laments instead of complaints.  I certainly do my share of complaining to God.  My guess is that I am not alone.  So, I'd like to know exactly what put God over the edge this morning, so I don't go there.  Why does God take such drastic action against the people?  Why doesn't God simply take the serpents away rather than have Moses enshrine one and require that the people look at the serpent to be healed?  Is the purpose of the bronze serpent to remind the people of their wickedness?  Isn't that a lot like kicking people when they are down? That doesn’t seem like very godly behavior.

While I don't have good answers to any of these questions, the questions are floating around in my mind when I hear Jesus say to Nicodemus "Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that whoever believes in him may have eternal life."   Somehow, Jesus calls us to use the disturbing story about Moses and the serpents to understand the cross on which Jesus will soon be lifted up.  What connections does Jesus want us to make?

Here are some ideas.  First, in the story from Numbers, rather than take away the serpents, God turns the image of this agent of death into an agent of life.  By looking at the bronze serpent that has been lifted up, the people are healed, and they live.  Likewise, God will take the cross, an instrument of death, and when Jesus is lifted up, the cross will become an agent of life.  In John's gospel, the cross and resurrection are two pieces of one action, so in the cross, John also sees resurrection.  Secondly, perhaps instead of getting rid of the serpents, God has Moses lift a bronze likeness on a pole so the people can remember both their wickedness and God's mercy.  One of my least favorite lines in the Book of Common Prayer comes in the Ash Wednesday service when the priest offers absolution with the words "Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who desires not the death of sinners, but rather that they may turn from their wickedness and live."  Wickedness is a strong word, and one I would rather avoid myself.  But the word does point to the fundamental but painful truth that we are capable of deep separation from God and that separation is of our own doing, not God's.  The good news is that our salvation is completely dependent on God's mercy not our own goodness.

Lastly, in my imagination, once Moses lifts the bronze serpent up before the people and people begin to be healed when they look at the creature, people begin to tell their friends and neighbors and soon everyone is drawn to the bronze serpent, and they all begin to be healed. They are reminded of the cause of their affliction, for sure, but they are also united in the reminder that God's healing power is even more powerful than their own wickedness.  They are not only reminded, but shown, that God is the source of healing and life.  They are reminded that God can be trusted to take the serpents of death and create life.  When Jesus is lifted up, crucified then resurrected, for all the world to see, we are drawn together and to God as we engage both our rebelliousness and God's great power and love for us, as God takes the agent of death and creates life.

John 3:16 is perhaps the most often quoted verse in all of Scripture.  "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."  John's words from there are quite polemical, which is unfortunate but reflects the reality of the tensions in late first century Judaism and Christianity.  The deeper message of John's gospel is that God acted out of love for the whole world, and with the desire to draw the whole world together and to God, as the agent of death was transformed into the agent of life.  John calls us not to look away from the cross on Good Friday, but to engage the cross.  Only on the cross will we be able to see Jesus lifted up and to wait, trusting, as all death is transformed into new life.

Amen.

Confusion

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 4, 2018

3 Lent B

          My most exasperating seminary experience was the course “Anglican Church History.”  In the first nano-second of the class, we figured out that our teacher, a graduate student from the University of Chicago, had never taught a class before.  But we were kind hearted souls and tried to be patient with convoluted lectures and confusing assignments.  The last straw came when we were given a take home open-book test.  I took the test home, found and wrote all the answers, turned the test in, and was quite puzzled to receive the test back and have one of my answers marked as incorrect.  How can you get an answer wrong on a take home open book test?  At the end of class, I went up to the teacher and inquired about my answer, which he insisted was wrong.  So, I politely got the textbook out, which was required for the course, and showed him where I got my answer.  His response was that the book was wrong.  My patience was running thin at this point.  I had done everything right, used the book he required, found the answer, and now I was wrong because the book was wrong.  I left the room before I said something I would regret and headed home furious that we had been required to purchase a book with wrong information, that the seminary would hire such a teacher, and that valuable time was being wasted in that class.

          I wonder if the people in the temple felt that same combination of confusion, frustration and fury when Jesus comes barging in with his whip of cords this morning.  The people in the temple were faithful people, trying hard to live according to God’s commandments.  Cattle, sheep, and doves were sold at the temple to help weary pilgrims procure the unblemished animals God required for the temple sacrifices.  Worshipers had walked for miles to get to Jerusalem for the Passover.  They couldn’t bring cattle, sheep and doves with them.  Unless they could buy the animals at the temple, they could not make the sacrifices they had traveled so far to make.  The money changers were required to convert the Roman currency into temple currency, just like we convert currency when we travel to another country.  There is always a fee, and in the case of the temple, there were sales taxes to be paid to the Romans.  Everyone at the temple was trying to be faithful to the laws given by God in the book of Leviticus and the laws of the state as dictated by the Romans.

          So, why is Jesus so upset this morning?  Which of the commandments are the people breaking?  Fortunately, we hear those commandments this morning in the reading from Exodus.   The people in the temple buying and selling animals for the sacrifice do not seem to be dishonoring their father or mother, murdering, committing adultery, stealing, bearing false witness, or coveting.  So, they are good on the last six commandments.  The problem must be in the first four commandments.  But the people don’t appear to have put another god before God, made an idol, made wrongful use of God’s name, or violated the Sabbath.  Quite frankly, they are doing all in their power to keep the law and honor God with the required sacrifices.  So what is Jesus so worked up about?

The story of the cleansing of the temple is found in all four gospels.  In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, however, the story occurs towards the end of the gospel.  The cleansing of the temple is the last straw that leads up to Jesus’ arrest, trial and crucifixion as Jesus refers to the temple as a den of robbers.  But in John’s gospel, the story comes in chapter 2, so at the beginning of the gospel.  Jesus does not accuse anyone of being a robber.  He simply says “Stop making my Father’s house a market place.”  John also adds Jesus’ words “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up” and the note that Jesus was speaking about his body.  Those words are not found in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, so I think Jesus is up to something else in John’s gospel.

          Jesus obviously does not want his Father’s house turned into a market place.  The temple was thought to be the place where humans encountered God in a unique way, the place where the divine and the human meet.  The claim was not that the temple was the only place the people encountered God.  The Hebrew people had experienced God in their Exodus from Egypt, during their time in the wilderness, in their exile in Babylon far from the promised land, and on and on.  But the experience of God in the temple was uniquely holy.  However, in John’s gospel, Jesus is the place where the human and the divine meet.  John’s gospel begins “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God….and the Word became flesh and lived among us.”  In that sense, Jesus is the new temple.  When Jesus is asked “What sign can you show us for doing this,” Jesus replies “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”  The resurrection will allow people in all times and places to experience the fullness of God in Jesus.  This morning, Jesus brings all of the action in the temple to a dramatic halt, turning over tables and driving the people out of the temple in order to tell the people that he is the place where human and divine meet. 

          The people in the temple are no doubt confused, frustrated, and angry when Jesus shows up this morning and interrupts their activity.  But Jesus will do what is needed to get our attention.  Jesus wants us to know that he is the new temple, that he and God are one, and that when we encounter him, we encounter God.  Through the resurrection, Jesus is present in all times and in all places through his resurrected body.  As the Body of Christ, the Church, we are that resurrected body.  If Jesus were to show up here and get our attention by throwing furniture around, Jesus would do so to remind us that every action we take, day in and day out reflects God’s love to the world.  The sacrifice of cattle, sheep, and doves is not required.  As the Body of Christ, Jesus calls us to the sacrifice of self that makes possible the reflection of God’s love 

through our lives.

                                                                   Amen.

         

Burdens

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 25, 2018

2 Lent B

          My grandmother’s kitchen table was a large booth built right into the end of her equally large kitchen.  One long side of the table had chairs, but the two short ends and the other long side were booth seating.  Altogether, the table would easily seat 10-12 people, but unless you were lucky enough to score one of the chairs on the open side of the table, once you were seated there was only one way out without everyone having to move.  That way out was to scoot under the table.  As children, my sister and I were always at the very back of the booth, and while, theoretically, we could have asked to be excused when we finished eating and crawled out from under the table, we never did.  There was way too much fascinating conversation to hear.  All the gossip that was fit to speak in the small, sleepy town of Headland, Alabama was shared around that table, and we had no intention of missing one word.  Stories of death, divorce, errant children, run-ins with the law, and difficult spouses were just too good to miss.  And, because we were in the south, all of the stories ended basically the same way.  “Bless her heart.  She has such a cross to bear.” 

Over the past week and a half, the news has been filled with stories about people with crosses to bear that are infinitely more tragic than anything I heard around my grandmother’s table.  We have heard stories of families burying their loved ones in Parkland, Florida, survivors trying to make sense and make a difference, and the kidnapping of school girls in Nigeria.  Add those stories and so many more to the stories of our own loved ones who struggle with loss, or illness, or heartbreak, and Jesus’ words to his disciples this morning are not very comforting.  “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”  Do we really have to hoist our burdens and those of the world onto our shoulders to be followers of Jesus?  I want to follow the Jesus who said “Come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will refresh you.”

          Jesus has just told the disciples that he must undergo great suffering, be rejected and killed, and on the third day, rise again.   Peter, understanding only the part about suffering, rejection, and death, rebukes Jesus for even thinking such thoughts. Jesus replies “Get behind me Satan!  For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”  Peter had set his mind only the bad news about suffering and death.  Peter has not heard God’s outrageous promise that after three days, Jesus will rise again.    

Only after Jesus has predicted his suffering, death, AND resurrection does Jesus say to the disciples “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Jesus explains what that means by saying “For those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake and the sake of the gospel will save it.”  Jesus wants his followers to take up Jesus’ own cross, not the sum total of the world’s burdens.  On Ash Wednesday, we were marked with a cross that is the symbol of our own mortality and dependence on God.  That cross imitates the cross made on our foreheads in baptism where we were sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.  In baptism, the cross of Christ becomes our cross.  Jesus is telling us that to be his follower requires something of us.  What is required is to deny ourselves, pick up the cross of Christ, and go where Jesus leads.

          In the reading from Genesis, we hear another outrageous promise.  God promise is that Abraham, who is 99 years old and has no children, will be the ancestor of many nations.  How, exactly, is God going to create abundant new life from Abraham and his elderly wife Sarah when they have not been able to have children?  God’s outrageous promise is God’s promise to keep, but the promise requires a great deal of Abraham and Sarah.  The book of Genesis tells us that God’s promise will test their faith and their relationships many times over the remainder of their lives as they partner with God to bring about this multitude of nations and follow where God leads.

          When we focus on human things, as Peter did this morning and as Abraham and Sarah do at various points in their story, we see only the impossibility of God’s promise, if we are able to hear God’s promise at all. Peter could not hear Jesus say “and on the third day rise again,” and there are points in Abraham and Sarah’s story when they cannot believe God’s promise of descendants.   When we focus on human things, all we see is death and destruction and we fail to see where we are called to pick up the cross of Christ and follow Jesus.  But when we focus on divine things, on the outrageous promise to create life where all evidence points to death, we can be part of God’s outrageous promise.  

           In baptism, we allow ourselves to be claimed by God’s outrageous promise of life.  Just as God’s outrageous promise required something of Abraham and Sarah, and Peter and the disciples, God’s outrageous promise requires something of us.  That something is to live like people who believe God has transformed death into life.  The specifics will vary for each of us, but in the words of our Baptismal Covenant, our response to God’s promise is to seek and serve Christ in all people, to proclaim the gospel with our words and actions, to work for justice and peace, and to respect the dignity of every human being.  In a world where death too often seems to have the final say, we are called to pick up the cross of Christ, follow Jesus, and do something to be part of God’s outrageous promise that the final word belongs to life.                                                                                                   

                                                                                             Amen.

Wilderness

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 18, 2018

1 Lent B

When I was 11 years old, my family moved from a New Jersey suburb of New York City to Little Rock, Arkansas.  While I knew that life would be different in the south....less snow, for one thing...I was totally unprepared for importance of family ties in the south.  In the bedroom community where we had lived in New Jersey, pedigree did not matter.  No one cared who you were related to; no one would have known them anyway.  People moved in and people moved out.  If you didn’t get to know your neighbors quickly, you never would because one of you would move.   So, we were surprised when we moved to the south where the first question asked after being introduced to someone was a very patriarchal “who is your father?”  My father wasn’t anyone particularly important, but my grandmother had lived in and around Little Rock most of her life, knew lots of people, and in a pinch that would save me from being a total outsider in the 6th grade.  For better or worse, mostly the latter I imagine, pedigree told people who you were and something they thought important about you.

          Jesus’ pedigree seems to be of great importance to Mark’s gospel.  This is, after all, the third time in 2 months that we have heard the voice of God say to Jesus “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  The first time was in January, January 7 to be exact, on the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus.  We heard the same gospel reading that morning...the heavens were torn apart, the Spirit descended on Jesus like a dove, and the voice of God spoke.  Then, last Sunday, on the Last Sunday after Epiphany, we heard the voice of God speak from a cloud at Jesus’ transfiguration and say “This is my Son, my beloved, listen to him.”  And then today, we hear the story of the baptism of Jesus again, followed this time by Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  A third time, we hear the voice of God say “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  On three different Sundays in three different contexts, baptism, transfiguration, and temptation, we hear two stories where the voice of God says the exact same thing.  Clearly, Jesus’ pedigree, his identity as the Son of God, is important to Mark and tells us who Jesus is and something important about him.

The cynics say that the only reason that we hear the voice of God at Jesus’s baptism today, on the first Sunday of Lent, is because without the account of Jesus’ baptism, Mark’s account of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness is only two verses, hardly enough for a respectable gospel lesson.  Certainly, Mark gives us by far the briefest account of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  Mark does not tell us how Satan tempted Jesus, as Matthew and Luke do.  But because Mark says so little, we are called to pay careful attention to every word he does give us. 

The story of Jesus’ baptism and the story of Jesus’ temptation are linked together because the first thing Mark tells us is that IMMEDIATELY after Jesus’ baptism, the Spirit DROVE him into the wilderness.   Jesus is not led by the Spirit, not filled with the Spirit, but driven by the Spirit.  Jesus was in the wilderness 40 days, as Moses was on Mount Sinai with God for 40 days and 40 nights, as Elijah spent 40 days and 40 nights without food on the same mountain, as the Israelites spent 40 years in the wilderness after their deliverance through the Red Sea.  And Jesus was not alone in the wilderness.  He was tempted by Satan, he was with the wild beasts, and angels waited on him. 

Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness defines what it means to be the Son of God, which is why we hear the stories of Jesus’ baptism and Jesus’ temptation together.  First, to be the Son of God is to trust the Spirit, the same Spirit that descended upon him as a dove, even when the Spirit of God takes him into the harsh barrenness of the wilderness.   Secondly, the Son of God is part of the continuing story of the relationship between God and God’s people, the same story in which Moses and Elijah had key roles.  Jesus will move the story further than either Moses or Elijah ever dreamed possible, but it is still the same story and the same God that Moses and Elijah encountered on the mountain and that led the Israelites through 40 years in the wilderness.  Thirdly, to be the Son of God is not to be exempt from suffering and struggle.  Quite the opposite.  To be the Son of God means engaging the suffering of the world and the struggle between good and evil.

On Ash Wednesday, we entered the Lenten wilderness.  The wilderness felt even more stark this year as we were reminded on Ash Wednesday of the darkness of violence and senseless death in the loss of 17 beloved children of God.  The Lenten wilderness is a place where we, like Jesus, wrestle with our identity as God’s beloved children.   How does our identity as God’s beloved children, and our understanding that all people are God’s beloved children, affect the way we live in a world where violence and suffering always seem to have the last word?  In this Lenten wilderness and through our Lenten disciplines, we learn to trust God where we have trusted our possessions, food, habits, or opinions for a feeling of security.    But our trust in God does not mean we just sit around and wait for God to act.  Through our study of scripture, we understand more deeply how we are part of the ongoing story of salvation, and how we are called to make this world more closely resemble the Kingdom of God.  And, like Jesus, we are reminded that being God’s beloved child does not mean that we are exempt suffering or the struggle between good and evil.  Instead, we will learn to find God in the midst of those struggles. 

The goal of Lent is not to simply survive in the wilderness until Easter.  The goal of the Lenten wilderness is to journey towards Easter in a way that deepens our understanding of who we are as God’s beloved children.  When we have a better understanding of who we are as God’s children, we will better know how we are to make this world more closely resemble the peaceable kingdom, where we can find God in the midst of the struggle between good and evil and how our lives can proclaim that the last word belongs to life.

                                                Amen.

                                                                  

Needs

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 4, 2018

5 Epiphany B

          Every day, our mailbox at home is filled with evidence of raw human need.  Heifer Project, Doctors without Borders, Amnesty International, Save the Children, Food for the Poor, St. Jude’s Hospital for Children and so many more organizations send out request for funds on what seems like a weekly basis.  All of the requests contain heartbreaking stories along with the question “Can you help?”  Most of the stories are backed up by what I read in the news about medical care in war ravaged countries, the dire plight of refugees, starvation in impoverished countries, and the situation of children around the world.  The needs are overwhelming.  Don and I have a few organizations we support, but for the most part, the unopened envelopes simply go into the recycling bin.  The needs of the world are simply too overwhelming.

          I wonder whether Jesus felt overwhelmed when the whole city of Capernaum showed up on his doorstep with their loved ones who were ill.  Jesus had just cured Simon’s mother-in-law, and apparently the news of Jesus’ healing power spread quickly.  We are told that Jesus healed many who were sick and cast out many demons in Capernaum, and then he went away to pray.  Then, even though there were more sick people to be healed in Capernaum, Jesus went on to the neighboring town so that he could proclaim the good news there as well.

          When Jesus went away to pray, the gospel tells us that Jesus got up while the night was still very dark and went away to a deserted place.  In the linear story of the gospel, which our lectionary does not follow, Jesus has just spent 40 days in a deserted place, the wilderness, where Jesus was tempted by Satan.  In that wilderness, Jesus wrestles with his identity as the beloved Son of God.  We will hear that story in two weeks, on the first Sunday of Lent.  But I am reminded of that story when I hear that Jesus went to a dark, deserted place to pray.  Jesus has not gone to a lovely retreat center where meals are provided and there are beautiful grounds to help connect him with God.  Jesus has gone into the desert in the dark of the night, which sounds like a rather scary place to me.

          I wonder if Jesus has gone to a dark place this time to wrestle with how he is to respond to the desperate human need he has encountered in Capernaum.  Clearly he has the ability to meet that human need and to cure the people of every illness and demon that possesses them.  What was he to do?  He could spend his entire ministry in one city healing the sick and never finish.  Jesus could enjoy great success and be very popular in Capernaum. But if Jesus stayed, the good news he came to proclaim would go no further. But if he left, he would leave sick people behind.  What is the Son of God to do?

          Jesus leaves his time in the deserted place renewed and with clarity about his mission.  In the beautiful words of Isaiah, “Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles.  They shall run and not be weary.  They shall walk and not be faint.”  Jesus says to his disciples who have hunted him down, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also. For that is what I came to do.”  And we are told that Jesus travelled throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

          Two things strike me about this brief story.  First, Jesus says his mission is to proclaim the message.  Jesus does not say that his mission is to heal people, even though he has healed a lot of folks.  Secondly, the only time Jesus has used words to proclaim the message is at the very beginning of the gospel when he says “The time has arrived, and the Kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news.”  So, Jesus must be primarily proclaiming the Good News with actions rather than words. 

          Jesus reminds us that our primary mission as his followers is to proclaim the Good News.  Paul echoes that mission in the letter to the Corinthians when he reminds us that his primary obligation is the proclamation of the gospel.  To stay centered on that mission, we, like Jesus, need regular time for prayer, so we do not become overwhelmed.  But, also like Jesus, our mission is not to meet every human need in the world, or in Summit County even.  Our mission is, however, to do exactly one church’s worth, and each of us to do exactly one person’s worth, to proclaim the gospel with our lives, our actions, just as Jesus did.  If our primary goal is to meet every human need, we will become completely overwhelmed and end up doing nothing.  If our primary goal, our mission, is to proclaim that the Kingdom of God has arrived and to do so with our lives by doing the fullness of one church’s worth of gospel work, we will not be overwhelmed.  Steeped in prayer and the richness of our relationship with God, we will have done the gospel work we have been given to do.  Our mission as followers of Jesus is to proclaim with our lives that the Kingdom of God is at hand.  In the course of doing that, much human need will be met, and we will make a gospel difference in the world.

                                                                             Amen.

Golden Syrup

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 28, 2018

4 Epiphany B

Jungle Jim’s is an enormous international grocery store in Cincinnati.  I have not yet been to the West Side Market in Cleveland, but I imagine they are similar in the vast array of foods offered.  At Jungle Jim’s, there are departments for Asian, Indian, Hispanic, European, Mediterranean and African foods.  Many of those departments have aisles for individual countries.  I am usually in search of tea, chocolate, and cheese, but Jungle Jim’s is also the only place where I can find golden syrup.  Golden syrup is the British version of corn syrup, with a caramel color and buttery taste that make for an amazing pecan pie.  The Great Britain section of Jungle Jim’s is in the very back of the store, which must be at least a half mile from the entrance. Wandering through the aisles, looking at the great variety of food from all around the world, I can tell you that I have never seen one section, aisle or shelf marked "Food sacrificed to idols."  Not one.  And if Jungle Jim's doesn't have such food, I'm guessing we would be hard pressed to find these delicacies anywhere in our part of the world, including the West Side Market.  So, St. Paul's words this morning about whether to eat food sacrificed to idols seem rather irrelevant to our lives of faith in Hudson, Ohio in 2018.  The author of one of the commentaries I read said that he had never heard a sermon preached about this passage from I Corinthians.  Now, I know that preaching is not supposed to be competitive sport, but Challenge Accepted!

 The church in Corinth to which Paul wrote was divided over all manner of things-such as who was baptized by the greater Christian, who has the greater spiritual gifts, and how people of faith should behave at the Eucharist, which had turned into something of a potluck in Corinth.  In this passage, Paul addresses the issue of food sacrificed to idols.  We may find that irrelevant, but in Paul's time, the question of whether to eat such food was of deep concern and was tearing the church apart.  Since idols have no real existence, some Christians thought it was fine to eat the food that had been sacrificed.  Other Christians believed that to eat such food was to participate in the idolatry, which was clearly against the commandments of God.  This disagreement threatened to divide the church and created an ugly atmosphere of condescension and judgement. 

          The issue here is not allowing a few people control the majority.  Just one chapter later, Paul will write "For why should my liberty be subject to the judgement of someone else's conscience? If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks?"  The issue at stake here is the nature of Christian community.  Christians are called to be a community of love and respect, not condescension and judgement.  In baptism, we 21st century Christians also promise to respect the dignity of every human being including each other and those with whom we disagree.  At Christ Church, we don't always agree on everything.  We don't all have the same politics or priorities or interests.  But despite our differences, Paul calls Christians to be communities of love and respect.

 What Paul does not tell us is how we are to love each other in the midst of any disagreement we might have.  What does a community look like where people genuinely love each even when they disagree?  For that, we turn to the gospel reading.  First, when the Sabbath came, Jesus went into the synagogue and taught.  The gospel calls the Body of Christ to gather on the Christian Sabbath to worship God and to learn.  Then Jesus heals a man with an unclean spirit.  The gospel also calls us to respond to the needs around us.  Jesus neither judged the man nor sent him away. The man had probably been rejected any number of times and was not likely welcome in very many places.  But Jesus healed him.  Here and in so many other places in the gospel, Jesus calls us to respond to the needs around us, whether the needs of each other or the needs of strangers, to bind up the injured and set free those who are held hostage by the injustices of society. 

          What is the secret to being a healthy congregation in conflicted times, whether the conflict is over church matters, as it was in Corinth, or in the current secular/political atmosphere?  The answer is not to ignore our differences.  The answer is to stay focused on the work of the church-worshiping God and doing the work of meeting the human needs of those around us, whether the physical needs of those who are hungry, or spiritual needs of those who thirst for a church that will welcome them.  When our identity as Christians comes from our common worship and our common gospel work, then we are free to talk about the issues of the day on which we may disagree. 

 Jesus and Paul remind us that the body of Christ, the church, is to be a community of faith where love builds up and allows us to respond to the needs to the world.  If we don't love each other, we probably can't do ministry together very well either.  And if we are not engaged in ministry together, our love for each other is mostly talk.  The two go hand and hand and make for a church that is a joyful and effective witness to our faith-which is what both Jesus and Paul have in mind!                                              

                                                                              Amen.