Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Bridges

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
September 25, 2016

21 Proper C

          Today is Social Media Sunday in the Episcopal Church.  On Social Media Sunday, the Church invites all of us, this one Sunday, to take out our smartphones and post images or ideas that arise from worship to Facebook, twitter, Instagram, or other social media sites.  By posting photos or thoughts about our worship, Sunday School, our ministries, coffee hour, or other programs, we tell our story to the wider community.  And by telling our story, we bridge the divide that separates the church and the community, and we make a connection between the gospel story and longing people have for deeper meaning in their lives.  Social Media Sunday is another way to tell our story in a way that is relevant and understandable.

          Jesus tells us a story about another gap or chasm this morning.  In Jesus’ parable, there is a rich man who lived in tremendous luxury and there is a poor man named Lazarus who lived in utter squalor.  When the two men died, their situations were reversed, and now the rich man is in Hades being tormented, and Lazarus is with Abraham.  The former rich man wants Abraham to sent Lazarus over with a drop of water for his burning tongue, but the chasm between the two is so deep no one can pass from one side to the other.  The former rich man then asks Abraham to send Lazarus to warn the rich man’s 5 brothers so that they will not come to the place of torment, but Abraham tells the former rich man that if the brothers won’t listen to Moses and the prophets, they won’t be convinced by the resurrection of a dead person.

          We are left to wonder what the rich man wants Lazarus to warn his brothers about. The rich man lived the life of a rich man, but that is not a crime in and of itself.  Lazarus was destitute in his earthly life, but does even the deepest suffering earn someone a place with Abraham in the next life?  Or are we to think that all roles are reversed after death?  The rich man has the decency to care about the fate of his brothers, but what are they to do differently?

          The rich man could hardly claim ignorance about Lazarus in his earthly life, since Lazarus lay at the rich man’s gate and was likely hard to miss as the rich man went in and out each day.  Day after day, week after week, the rich man likely turned his head to avoid seeing Lazarus, sick and starving at his gate.  Not until the rich man needs a drop of cool water and a word of warning to his brothers does he acknowledge Lazarus’ existence.  The truth is that the great chasm between the two men was fixed long before they died, and cannot be bridged even in death. 

When the rich man asks Abraham to send Lazarus to warn the 5 brothers, Abraham’s reply is that the brothers have Moses and the prophets.  What do Moses and the prophets teach? Moses and the prophets all warn about creating a divide between the rich and the poor.   Over and over again throughout the prophets, God’s chosen people are admonished to serve the poor, the widows, and the orphans.  Over and over again in the prophets, the failure of God’s people to take care of the poor or worse, their exploitation of the poor, meets with disastrous consequences.  God’s people have always been called to bridge divides, not create them.  So perhaps the rich man wants to warn his brothers that chasms created on earth will be chasms turned inside out in the afterlife.

We do not have to look far to see deep and volatile political, racial, and economic divisions in the world around us. Jesus’ parable reminds us that God calls us to live as God’s children and to treat each other as God’s children.  We can too easily ignore people with whom we disagree, or to treat them as the rich man treated Lazarus.  Jesus doesn’t call us to agree on everything.  Jesus calls us to the work of staying connected with those with whom we disagree.  In the words of 1 Timothy, God calls us to the pursuit of righteousness, which is completely different from self-righteousness, and to godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness and to do this in our dealings with all people not just those with whom we agree.

          Some days this feels unrealistic at best and impossible at worst.  Some days there seems to be little reason to hope for a world in which great chasms of suspicion and distrust do not separate people from each other.  Into a world that seemed equally hopeless if not more so, Jeremiah receives a sign from God.  We hear the story of what seems to be a fairly ordinary real estate transaction.  The only problem is that this is a very bad piece of real estate and Jeremiah is actually in prison. Jeremiah has told the people of Judah, his own people, that God is using the Babylonians, the enemy, to punish the people of Judah for their sins. Those sins were things like worshiping foreign gods, and ignoring the poor in their midst. The real estate is a bad investment because the property will soon be destroyed and worthless when the Babylonians invade Judah.  But God tells Jeremiah to put the deeds to the land in an earthenware jar where they will last a long time. For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: "Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land." To the people of Judah, God’s words sound about as unlikely as a promise to heal the divisions in our country sounds today.  But God calls Jeremiah and the people to hope in a future that is better than their current situation or than the immediate future. 

          God calls the church to be the sign of hope in this divided world that Jeremiah’s real estate transaction was for Judah.  God calls the church to bridge divides, not create them; to make connections not foster division; and to fill the chasms which divide us rather than expand them.  We are called to give the world hope that people who are different can be in community together and even love each other by living that reality.  Lazarus and the rich man were separated by a deep chasm in death because they were separated by such a chasm in life.  In the Kingdom of God, there are no chasms.  God calls us to work to make the Kingdom of God a more present reality and be a sign of hope for this broken and divided world.

                                                  Amen.
         



          

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Shrewd

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
September 18, 2016

20 Proper C

          When I was in high school, the youth group at our Episcopal Church in Little Rock wanted to take a trip to Six Flags over Texas.  We had wonderful youth group mentors who thought this was a great idea and were willing to help us raise the money we needed, make the arrangements, and chaperone the trip.  The youth group spent a lot of time trying to figure out how we could raise the money we needed with the least amount of effort possible.  Our brilliant idea was to have a raffle.  We would use the funds we had to purchase a television, then sell raffle tickets.  The winner would get the television and we would have the funds to go to Six Flags.  However, while we thought our idea was brilliant, the rector disagreed.  He suggested that perhaps we should actually do something to earn the money we needed.  Unlike the manager in this morning’s parable, we were strong enough to dig, and we were not ashamed to beg.  But if we were going to Six Flags, we needed a new plan.

          Fortunately, one of our youth group mentors was a rather shrewd business person.  Since a raffle was not going to happen, he suggested a car wash.  We groaned.  That sounded a lot like work.  However, our mentor’s idea was to sell the tickets on Easter Sunday when the church was full, then have the car wash the following Saturday.  His bet was that lots of people would buy tickets on Easter Sunday, but few would show up the following Saturday to have their car washed.  And he was right.  We sold enough tickets on Easter to pay our way to Six Flags, washed about 10 cars the following Saturday, and the rector was happy.  We had a win-win all the way around.

          This morning, Jesus seems to commend shrewdness and making friends by means of dishonest wealth.  We have a rich man with a manager who squanders his property.  The rich man fires the manager, which the manager deserves.  We already know that the manager is a person of dubious integrity, since he has been squandering his master’s property, so we are not surprised when he calls in those who are in debt to the master and cuts their bills.  Now the manager at least has friends he can stay with now that he has no income.  We expect that that rich man will be furious with the manager but instead, the manager is commended for his shrewdness.  Jesus makes the parable even more problematic when he says “Make friends for yourself by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.”  Jesus seems to have moved from commending shrewdness to commending dishonesty.   We should have a problem with that!

          But what if the manager had squandered the rich man’s property so badly that getting 50 to 80 percent of the debts recovered is actually a great bargain for the rich man?  Rather than getting nothing, he gets 50 containers of olive oil and 80 containers of wheat.  Now the rich man is happy to get something back, rather than have a total loss.  The debtors are happy because their debt has been reduced, and the manager is happy because he has friends and a place to stay, and doesn’t have to dig or beg.  Now we have a win-win.  In some bizarre way, the manager has been faithful in very little and will be welcomed into the eternal homes.

          Even if this parable can be seen as a win-win, what on earth is Jesus trying to teach us about our relationship with God?  On the one hand, Jesus seems to be telling us that if we can live with the values of the Kingdom of God, now, if we are faithful with what we have in this life, then we can be trusted with the riches of eternal life.  If we are dishonest, or unfaithful, with the riches of this life, then God has no reason to think we can be trusted with the riches of eternal life.  This makes sense, in the same way that I made sense when I would say to my children “If you use table manners like that at home, how can I possibly think you use better table manners elsewhere?”  The theological problem with this line of reasoning about Jesus’ parable is that we are then led to believe that we earn eternal life by being faithful with what we have in this life.  While that might make for a powerful stewardship sermon, and we could have competitive pledging to see who is the most faithful and who is most likely to earn eternal life, that is simply not the gospel.  The message of the gospel is that eternal life is a free gift secured by the death and resurrection of Jesus. 

          And that, I believe, is the point of the parable.  Life-all of life, this life and the life to come, the eternal life that begins with baptism- is a gift.  We have done nothing to deserve this gift.   Jesus is calling us to be faithful with that gift by living like the people God created us to be and using our lives to make the Kingdom of God a more present reality in the world today.  We squander the gift when we are selfish and believe that what God has given us-whether time or talent, or treasure- is ours to use for ourselves alone.  What would the world look like if we used our lives, our whole lives, to give God an 80% or even a 50% return on God’s investment in us?  Perhaps God would commend us for our shrewdness and the world around us would look a little bit more like the Kingdom of God.


                                                                                      Amen.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Making the Broken Whole

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
September 11, 2016

19 Proper C

Most of my elementary school years were spent living in a bedroom community of New York City. The years were the mid-1960's, after the Cuban Missile Crisis and during the Vietnam War and the middle of the Cold War. Every month, the fire alarm bell would ring and we would have the typical fire drill where everyone left the building in an orderly fashion and went outside until the bell rang indicating that we could go back inside. There was nothing particularly scary about these drills, and we got to go outside for a few minutes, which was all good. But, perhaps because of our location near New York City, and certainly because of the era in which we lived, we also had air raid drills. These were not so much fun and were a lot more scary. Instead of going outside, we all went to the cafeteria, an indoor room with no windows, and got down on our knees and put our heads on the floor with our hands clasped behind our head. The whole school was in one place, and even as a 6-year-old I was skeptical that this exercise would save us if we were bombed. But the unthinkable never happened. Once we moved to Arkansas, air raid drills became part of our past since no one seemed too worried that Little Rock would be bombed by the enemy.

            But then, 15 years ago today, on September 11, 2001, the unthinkable did happen and the world came to a grinding halt. The images Jeremiah uses this morning are eerily similar to the pictures on the television on the day of 9/11 and for days and weeks thereafter. "I looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void; and to the heavens and they had no light. I looked on the mountains, and lo, they were quaking, and the hills moved to and fro...I looked, and lo, the fruitful land was a desert, and all its cities were laid in ruins." While Jeremiah is looking to a future in which the Babylonians will destroy the people and land of Judah because they have fallen away from their covenant with God, those words also seem to describe the devastation in the wake of 9/11.

              When we feel threatened, when we suffer great loss and are made supremely aware of our vulnerability, we look for things that make us feel secure and in control. I can tell you that on 9/11, I was at the bank making sure that I had cash on hand in case the economy crumbled. I was at the gas station in case there was no more gas to be had the next day. The only reason I was not at the grocery store was because I had been the day before. I can rationalize that these were practical matters that needed to be attended to as precautions against what might happen. And, in a sense that was true. But the truth is that getting cash and filling the car made me feel more secure. I felt a whole lot better doing something tangible and concrete, trusting in the ATM and the gas pump to keep me safe, rather than putting my trust in the God who created me. On a national scale, for the last 15 years we have felt better by doing something tangible and concrete as well, some of which were also practical matters that had to be tended to as a result of the attacks, and much of which was our way of making ourselves feel like we had regained that which we lost.

             Unfortunately, one of the side effects of relying on the tangible and concrete to keep us safe is that there are only so many tangible and concrete resources to go around. There is only so much gas in the pump or cash in the machine or milk at the grocery, or only so many economic resources to support war and health care and education. Our tendency is to get competitive, each person for him or herself, until we find ourselves more fractured than ever in the midst of our loss. 

         Jeremiah’s charge against the people of Judah was essentially that in times of vulnerability and loss, they had turned from God to worship the tangible and concrete things that they thought would bring them security. If they worshiped foreign gods, then perhaps the people of those gods would not attack them. If they amassed wealth at the expense of the poor, perhaps they would have security. If they misused other people to gain power and strength, perhaps nothing bad would happen to them. The end result of their efforts to gain security and prevent vulnerability is that the people of God were fractured. God’s anger at God’s chosen people was because in times of trouble the people turned away from God and sought comfort in the tangible and the concrete, and as a result God’s people were broken and divided.

                 Jesus tells us two parables this morning about loss: the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. In both parables, something of some value is missing. In the first parable, the shepherd makes the rather absurd decision to leave the 99 sheep to their own devices and go after the one missing sheep. When he finds the sheep and returns it to the fold, he rejoices greatly, even calling his friends and neighbors and saying "Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost." Likewise, when the woman who is searching for her coin finally finds it, she to calls her friends and neighbors and says "Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I lost." In both cases, the return of something of relatively small value is celebrated by a great party. And in both cases, reference is made to the rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents.

            Jesus seems to be making a rather large leap from the finding of a lost sheep or coin to the rejoicing in heaven over a sinner who repents. After all, neither a sheep nor a coin is capable of repentance. The sheep just wandered off, as sheep are prone to do, and no telling how the coin got lost, but it obviously wasn’t the coins’ fault. So, Jesus must be up to something else here. Both the sheep and the coin were part of a larger whole. There were 100 sheep and 10 coins, both nice round numbers that indicate completeness. When the sheep goes missing and the coin turns up lost, that whole is fractured. It is not just that the sheep is missing, but that the community is broken. It is not just that one little coin is missing, but that the nine are not complete without it. When the sheep is returned and the coin is found and restored to the others, the 100 and the 10 are complete again. And there is great rejoicing, both on earth and in heaven, rejoicing not only that the individual sheep and coin were found, but rejoicing that what was broken is now whole. 

                 The reality is that we cannot fix what is broken by breaking it some more. We cannot find what is lost by losing more. Jeremiah and Jesus both call us, in times of uncertainty, loss, and vulnerability, whatever the cause, to look for ways to create wholeness, to find what was lost by acting like the people of God we were created to be. Eventually God will say to Jeremiah "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people." There is great rejoicing in the heavens when we actually live like people who belong to God and work to make the broken whole again. 


                                                                   Amen.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

Simple, not Easy

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
September 4, 2016

18 Proper C

          Some years ago, I was meeting a friend for lunch at a restaurant in Dayton, Ohio when I got a text message from her that she was running late.  So, I spent some time looking at the various newspaper articles the restaurant had framed and hung on the walls in the lobby.  Most of them were reviews of the restaurant, describing the wonderful Italian food, the good service, and reasonable prices.  However, one of them was not a positive review and I was very surprised to find it hanging on the wall.  This review described soggy bread, slow service, and unreasonably high prices for the amount of food served.  Obviously that reviewer had eaten at the restaurant on an off day.  But why on earth would the restaurant frame and post such a review? 

          I have no idea what the answer to that question is, but, in the context of a wall full of glowing reviews, the negative review seemed like a little truth in advertising.  Not every day is a good day.  Not everyone is going to love what is cooked or the speed with which the food is served.  Not every loaf of bread comes out perfectly.  Most do, and the attempt is made to make things right when things go wrong.  The review served as a reality check for both the restaurant and life in general.

          Our readings this morning are about as uplifting as that negative restaurant review.  Nothing in these readings alone makes the life of faith sound very appealing!  Jeremiah calls us to turn from our evil ways and amend our lives so God will change God’s mind about the disaster God has planned.  From that, we could infer that disaster is God’s response to evil, which is a theology the book of Job wrestles with.  There are too many examples of faithful people who suffer to believe that suffering is God’s punishment for evil.

          Then we have the reading from Philemon, or rather the reading of Philemon as this morning we hear an entire letter from Paul.  In this letter, Paul writes to Philemon to ask that Philemon’s slave, Onesimus, be released to Paul so that Onesimus can continue to serve Paul during Paul’s imprisonment for the gospel.  Paul is sending Onesimus back to Philemon, but asking that Philemon treat Onesimus as he would treat Paul, which is to say, that Philemon will return the slave to Paul.  This is all well and good, except that Paul misses an opportunity to condemn slavery and this little letter has been used as Biblical justification for slavery throughout much of history.  This letter is a problematic review hanging in the metaphorical lobby of the Christian faith.

          Then there are Jesus’ teachings in the gospel this morning.  I don’t think any of us signed on to the Christian faith in order to hate our families.  And if we did know the complete cost of following Jesus and counted that cost before signing on, would any of us really be here?  And who is willing to give up all their possessions to follow Jesus?  Jesus makes the life of a disciple seem quite impossible.  Truth in advertising is one thing.  Scaring away anyone who might think about being a follower is something else.

          So…where is the good news this morning?  Do we have anything to commend the life of faith in these readings?

          Of course, the answer is “yes.”  The reading from Jeremiah may have some theological problems, but the basic message is that God recognizes that we will do wrong and calls us to amend our lives- to repent and turn from our evil ways.  God, through Jeremiah, tells us that such repentance is possible and does impact our relationship with God.  Our baptismal covenant asks the same thing of us.  We are asked “Will you resist evil and whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?”  Both Jeremiah and our own baptismal covenant recognize that we will fall into sin.  The good news is that we can repent and be reconciled with God and each other.

          Paul’s letter to Philemon was written at a time when slavery was an acceptable practice.  While that is abhorrent to us now, rather than condemn Paul we might be called to wonder what practices are acceptable in our 21st century society that will be called into question and considered abhorrent in future generations.  The good news is that God is not finished with us yet, and that we have the ability to repent, both collectively and individually.  God used Paul despite his failings and God will use us despite ours as well.

          Then there is Jesus.  Do we really have to hate our families and give up all our possessions to follow him?  And what about counting the cost?  Don’t we need resources to go to war or build a tower?  And don’t those actions require cooperative effort?  How are we supposed to do that if we hate everyone and have given everything away?

          I think the answer to these questions is found in Jesus’ statement “Whoever does not pick up his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”  If the question is “What do we need in order to follow Jesus?” the answer is that the only thing we need is to pick up the cross and follow. As wonderful as our relationships can be, we don’t need them to follow Jesus.  As much as we might enjoy our possessions, they are unnecessary to following Jesus.  In fact, following Jesus would be easier without relationships to tend or possessions to deal with.  We wouldn’t have to worry about what our boss thinks, or the neighbors, or the coach.  We wouldn’t have to make house payments, or fix roofs.  We could devote all our time to following Jesus.  But that is not the reality of our lives, and, if taken literally, Jesus’ followers would have died out after a generation.  But Jesus is clear that 1) nothing, absolutely nothing, not any human relationship or any abundance of possessions is required to follow Jesus and 2) if we are blessed with relationships and possessions, we are to follow Jesus and not them.  In a nutshell and to put it simply, to be a follower of Jesus, all we have to do is pick up the cross of Christ and follow Jesus.   Carrying the cross of Christ means living as people who believe that, in Jesus, love triumphs over hate, faith triumphs over fear, and life triumphs over death.

          Following Jesus is simple, but following Jesus is not easy.  When taken together, our readings remind us that we will not always be successful in our attempts to follow Jesus, but God knows that and simply calls us to repent and return when we fail.  Again, simple, but not easy.  But we do not travel alone.  When we are asked in baptism “Will you resist evil, and whenever you sin, repent and return to the Lord,” the answer is not “I will” but “I will. With God’s help.”


                                                          Amen.

Monday, August 29, 2016

Our Story

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
August 28, 2016

17 Proper C

           When our sons Slocomb and Caldwell were young, they loved to hear stories about themselves as babies.  They loved to hear about the power they wielded over us in the middle of the night as tiny little guys.  As they got older, they wanted stories about themselves when they were in preschool or elementary school.  They loved hearing about the time they took the sidewalk chalk outside, got some water, took off their clothes, and painted their bodies.  In the front yard.  On a busy intersection.  As they grew up, their interests turned more toward stories about Don and myself when we were little.  They pumped our parents, their grandparents, for stories they could use against us.  As adults, our kids love hearing their grandparents’ stories, stories of an era very different from theirs in many ways, back before homes had televisions, or telephones, or even electricity, and when hitchhiking was a viable means of transportation.  As adults, our sons know that the stories of their parents and grandparents are part of their own stories, and they recognize common themes, character traits, and skills among members of our family.  Knowing the wider family story helps them make sense of their own stories and helps them feel connected to something bigger than their current experience.

When Jeremiah lights into the people this morning, what is their sin? Their sin is that they do not know their story. They have forgotten the story of the God who brought them up from the land of Egypt, led them in the wilderness, and brought them into a plentiful land. Instead, the people have gone after worthless things and have become worthless themselves. When times are tough, as they were in the late 6th and early 5th centuries BC, the first port in a storm will have to do if the boat is flimsy. The people of Judah were facing conquest and destruction by the Babylonians. The threat was grave and the people of God were scared. Because the people had forgotten their story, forgotten the miraculous and faithful actions of God on their behalf in the past, their spiritual boat was flimsy and they turned to the easily available gods that did not actually exist and had no power to save the people from destruction. They forgot their story and had only water from leaky cisterns to quench their thirst rather the abundant and available living water. The psalmist echoes the same cry when God says "I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth and I will fill it. But my people did not listen to my voice, so I gave them over to their stubborn hearts." The people had forgotten their story, made bad decisions, and God let them suffer the consequences. 

             The book of Hebrews was written to encourage weary but faithful Christians. Our passage this morning appeals to the story of Scripture when the author writes "Let mutual love continue-do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers." The reader is reminded that, in the sacred story, Abraham and Sarah show hospitality to three strangers who turn out to be messengers, or angels, of God.  Likewise, Jesus does not just make up his instructions about table etiquette at a dinner party, nor is he simply dispensing common sense advice.  The instructions he gives are grounded in the larger story of Scripture. The book of Proverbs has similar instruction about being humble and avoiding arrogance while dining at the table of a ruler.  Proverbs 26 says "Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence or stand in the place of the great; for it is better to be told, ‘Come up here,’ than to be put lower in the presence of a noble.” And throughout scripture, God’s people are called to care for the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. All of our readings this morning point us to the larger story of God and God’s people. 

             Jeremiah reminds us that when we try to rely only on our personal experience of God in the current moment to get us through whatever predicament we face, we may find the well dry and we will turn to whatever god is convenient even if that god has no power to help us. When we know the story of God and God’s people, we know that our God is the God who more often sustains us for the journey than offers a quick fix.  We know that God often uses the least likely people to work in our lives rather than the most likely people.  And we know that, in hind sight, God is as often found in the places where God seemed most absent as in the places where God was so obviously present. Above all, the sacred story tells us that our God is the God who loves us unconditionally and that the valley of the shadow of death never has the final word. When we know the sacred story, we can be nourished from fountains of living water even when our thirst is too deep for words. But, as Jeremiah reminds us, we have to know the story.
                                                                                                    Amen.

          

Monday, August 22, 2016

Barriers

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
August 21, 2016

16 Proper C
          The television is rarely on in our house.  For the most part, Don and I get our news online.  Other than Downton Abbey, which, sadly, is no longer on, and the occasional Arkansas Razorback football game in the fall, we rarely even think about turning the television on.  The exception is the Olympics.  The games are exciting to watch, but the part of the Olympics I really love is hearing the stories of the athletes.  So many of the people who make it to the Olympics to run or swim, or play basketball or tennis, or do gravity defying gymnastics have a story to tell. Those stories are of starting life in less than desirable circumstances, or of injury or illness that made the Olympics seem like an impossible dream, or of the Refugee Olympic Team whose stories of sheer human survival are beyond anything most of us can imagine. These stories are about obstacles overcome, sometimes with great help from family and friends, other times on their own, as the athletes arrive on the world stage.

          Both our reading from Jeremiah and our reading from Luke’s gospel tell us stories of overcoming obstacles this morning.  Jeremiah is called by God with these words “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born, I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”  Jeremiah is clearly overwhelmed by God’s words and sees only the obstacles to serving God as a prophet. “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak.  For I am only a boy!”  How can a young boy possibly be a prophet of the Lord?  Who will listen to him?  How will he find the correct words?  What if the people don’t like what he has to say?  What will they do to him?  But God will hear nothing of Jeremiah’s objections or the perceived obstacles in Jeremiah’s way.  “Do not say ‘I am only a boy’; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak what I command you.  Do not be afraid of them, for I am there to deliver you.”  Then God touches Jeremiah’s mouth and gives him the words he is to say.  God has torn down all the obstacles standing in Jeremiah’s way and sent him off to do the work Jeremiah has been called to do.

          In the gospel reading, Jesus encounters a woman with a spirit that has crippled her for 18 years. Most people would not even notice the woman in a crowd, she was so bent over.  The woman’s infirmity is the obvious obstacle in the story, and just as God removed the obstacles from Jeremiah’s journey, Jesus heals the woman who can then stand up straight.  She praises God because the obstacle in her life has been removed and she has been healed.  She can now get on with the business of living.  However, there is another obstacle in this story, and that obstacle is the synagogue leader’s understanding of the 4th Commandment.  The leader of the synagogue says to the crowd, apparently multiple times “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the Sabbath.”  The leader of the synagogue apparently blames the woman for showing up in the synagogue where she happens to be seen by Jesus and be healed.  There is something quite wrong with that logic, but perhaps the leader of the synagogue was afraid to openly criticize the person capable of such powerful deeds.  But had Jesus actually violated the Sabbath?

          In the 20th chapter of the book of Exodus, the 4th Commandment states “Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.  Six days you shall labor and do all your work.  But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God.  You shall not do any work-you, your son, your daughter, you male or female slave, your livestock or the alien resident in your towns.  For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them, but rested on the 7th day; therefore the Lord blesses the day and consecrated it.”  This is the commandment the leader of the synagogue refers to this morning.  While Jesus is the guilty party, not the woman, in some sense the 4th commandment has been broken even if for a good and admirable reason.

          However, the 10 commandments are also found in the book of Deuteronomy.  In Deuteronomy, the 4th commandment reads the same as the account in Exodus all the way through the list of who shall have a day of rest on the Sabbath. But the reason given for keeping the Sabbath is different in Deuteronomy.  In Exodus, the reason given for keeping the Sabbath holy is based on the story of Creation in the first chapter of Genesis.  Deuteronomy bases the 4th commandment on the story of the Exodus from Egypt.  “Remember that you were slaves in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.”  According to Deuteronomy, the Sabbath is a time, set aside each week, when the people are commanded to stop everything and honor God who brought them out of bondage in Egypt, led them through the wilderness and into the Promised Land.

          On this view, Jesus has not broken the 4th commandment by healing the woman of her infirmity.  Jesus has done the work of the 4th commandment by releasing her from the bondage of her ailment, just as the Hebrew people were freed from their bondage in Egypt.  Yes, we are commanded to keep holy the Sabbath day to honor God by pausing from our work to worship, give thanks, and pray.  But the same commandment also calls us to commit to living lives that tear down barriers rather than use the commandments to create them.  One of the scripture passages that we read in Advent, as we wait the coming of the Messiah, is from Isaiah 40: “Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill made low…then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.”  The work of the Messiah is to remove obstacles so that all people can see the glory of God together.

          The church is the Body of Christ and as such, our work is to remove obstacles so that all flesh can see the glory of God together.  We are an obstacle to the glory of God if the words we say and sing with our lips do not match the actions of our lives. We are an obstacle if we preach inclusion and practice exclusion.  We are an obstacle if we proclaim the Prince of Peace, and the squabble among ourselves.  But when, like Jesus, our actions match our words of mercy, love, and peace, the 4th Commandment in honored.  Barriers fall and the glory of God is revealed. 

                                                                   Amen.

          

Monday, August 15, 2016

Fire

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
August 14, 2016

15 Proper C

          A few weeks ago, my cousin Larry was in Cleveland for work so he and I met for dinner in Twinsburg one night. Larry lives in Chicago and we see each other once in 5 years if we are lucky.  Ours is a small family and Larry and his siblings are my only cousins. 

          We talked about a wide variety of things that night, and I’m sure the wait staff wondered just how long we were going to stay.  After catching up on each other’s families and our respective careers, our conversation turned to some of our earliest family memories.  Larry and I are the same age, and one of our earliest memories is of the house our great grandparents built in Fordyce, Arkansas.  The house was built in 1907 and was a magnificent home, meant to house the family for generations to come.  Even at a young age, the house made quite an impression on us as we played in the wide hallways and spacious rooms.  But when Larry and I were 5 years old, the house burned to the ground in a deadly fire, causing great tragedy and some division in our family.  Neither of us were there at the time, so the fire itself is not among our memories.  Larry and his family were in Chicago and my family was in New Jersey.  But when Larry and I met for dinner that night, we wondered out loud what our family would be like had the house not burned.  On the one hand, the house would have been home to many family gatherings at Christmas and the cousins would have felt like we grew up together.  On the other hand, the house was filled with things that might well have been fought over in subsequent years, causing more strife and division in the family.  Our conversation was pure conjecture, of course, but from a very early age, we were both well aware of the chaos and division fire can cause, and the impact fire can have on a family.

This morning, Jesus is also aware of the impact and division fire can have, even if he is speaking about a different kind of fire.  If this gospel reading was the entire gospel, I’d have to say that there is no good news to be found, and that we should all pack up, go home, and watch cartoons.  But this passage about fire and division is not the entire gospel, and should not be read as if it is.  Throughout the Scriptures, fire is actually a symbol of the presence of God.  God appeared to Moses in a burning bush.  A pillar of fire led the Israelites in their wanderings in the wilderness as a sign of the presence of God in their midst.  A coal of fire purified the lips of Isaiah as he began his prophetic ministry and spoke the word of God.  Tongues of fire rested on the heads of the disciples at Pentecost as they were filled with the Holy Spirit.  Through the fire, God assures the people of the Divine Presence in their midst.


The Divine Presence does not always make life easy, however.  When God appeared to Moses in the burning bush, God sent Moses off to deliver the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt and wander in the wilderness for 40 years.  The pillar of fire that led the Hebrew people in the wilderness did not always grant them either success or a positive attitude.  Isaiah’s lips were purified by the coal of fire so that he might speak harsh words of judgement to a people who had strayed far from the path God had set for them.  And when the disciples were filled with the Spirit at Pentecost, they were empowered for ministry that not only spoke the good news to vast numbers of people, but also landed them before judges and in jail. 

This morning, Jesus reads us the fine print about being his disciple when he says “I have come to bring fire to the earth and how I wish it were already kindled...Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division!  From now on five in one household will be divided” and so forth.   Jesus has come to bring the presence of God into our midst and he is being brutally honest about the possible consequences of following him.  Jesus is not saying that division is what should happen as a result of his ministry and the fire that he brings. But Jesus is warning his followers that division may happen as some people embrace the light and others flee the flames, even within the same household. 


At Jesus’ birth, the angels sang “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.”  The great passage from Isaiah that we read on Christmas Eve proclaims “For a child has been born for us....and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”  Our surprise at the harsh words of the gospel this morning comes from a Scripture-based understanding that Jesus is the Messiah of Peace, the one who comes not to divide but to unify.  And yet, when the newly pregnant Mary goes to stay with her cousin Elizabeth who is also pregnant, her song is about the God who scatters the proud in the thoughts of their hearts, who has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly, who has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.  These are not the actions of a God who is primarily interested in keeping the peace.  These are the actions of a God who, in Jesus, is bringing all people into the Kingdom of God, even if it means breaking the peace and causing division. 

This morning we will baptize Cecily Elizabeth West.  When we hear Jesus say “I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed,” we might wonder whether baptism is a good thing to do to a sweet baby girl.  But the fire with which Jesus was baptized was the fire of crucifixion and resurrection so that his followers can be baptized into new life.  New life, however, is not the promise that life will always be easy.  The promise of baptism is that in the fire that disturbs the peace, we will experience God.  The promise of baptism is that in the many fires of life, the presence of God will always sustain us.  The promise of baptism is that, by being joined with Jesus and following Jesus where he goes, the final word will always belong to life.
                                                                   Amen.