Persistence

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 16, 2016

24 Proper C

          The model of dogged persistence in our household is, indeed, our dog.  Fang is a 125 pound Italian mastiff, so his sheer size makes him a formidable opponent when he wants something.  However, his persistence does not begin with his size.  Fang starts with The Look.  He gets very still and stares at us with a pleading look.  When The Look does not work, he sits. Years ago, Fang had both of his ACLs repaired within a few months, so he could not sit for a long time.  Don and I were so excited when he could finally sit, that we rewarded him every time.  Fang remembers that.  When sitting does not work, Fang moves to nudging, still gently, but annoyingly.  By now the drool is pouring out of his mouth, so being nudged, even gently by that great. slobbery muzzle does begin to wear us down.  At this point, Fang is usually asked to go to his mat.  After a brief time on his mat, measured in something close to nano seconds, Fang returns to try again, this time skipping steps one and two and going straight back to nudging.  By this time, Don and I have almost finished supper, and Fang usually wins some morsel of food.  Fang is nothing if not persistent.

          My hunch is that most of us have some experience of our own with persistence. We learn from a young age that to get whatever we want in life, we have to keep trying.  Many times, but not always, our persistence pays off.   When we do not succeed, we often wonder whether we should have tried just a little bit harder. But in my experience, and perhaps yours, prayer is the one area where persistence just does not always seem to reap the results I ask for. Did my loved one die because I was not persistent enough in prayer?  Do I believe that if I had just prayed a little harder, or gotten just a few more people to pray, she would have lived? I don’t think so, but today’s gospel lesson certainly seems to tell us that if we are persistent enough in prayer, we will get whatever we want from God.

          In Jesus’ parable this morning, the widow wants the judge to grant her justice against her opponent. In Jesus’ time, judges were entrusted with protecting the poor, the widows and the orphans. This judge ignores the widow’s request, and, because the widow is not willing to take "no" for an answer, she repeats it. This cycle occurs over and over again, until finally worn down, the judge grants the widow justice so that she will go away. At the end of the parable, Jesus says "Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them." Jesus seems to be telling us that if we pray long enough and hard enough, if we are persistent enough and if we refuse to take "no" for an answer, eventually we will wear God down and God will give us what we want, just to get us to go away.  

            How are we to understand this parable?

            The reading from 2 Timothy reminds us that all Scripture is given to us for our learning. We tend to shy away from such passages because we wonder if God really wants us to stone our children when they talk back to us, as Deuteronomy 21 suggests, or refrain from wearing blended fabric as Leviticus 19 and Deuteronomy 22 suggest, or hate our mother and father, brothers and sisters, or even life itself as Jesus suggests in the gospels of Matthew and Luke. But the writer of 2 Timothy is not talking about every individual verse of Scripture, nor is 2 Timothy talking about taking one verse of Scripture and using that single verse to interpret all of Scripture. 2 Timothy is telling us that the whole of Scripture is inspired by God and given to us for our learning. God invites us to use the fullness of Scripture to understand a single difficult passage, so that we don’t have to rely on just our own experience and the words of a single passage of Scripture to figure out what God is calling us to do and be. 

         So, in this morning’s parable, we have a widow and an unjust judge. When we think about all of Scripture, we remember that over and over again in the gospels, especially Luke’s gospel, we see Jesus identify himself with the poor and the outcast, the widows and the orphans. In Matthew’s gospel, we hear Jesus say that whenever we minister to the hungry and the thirsty, to those on the margins of society, we minister to him. We watch Jesus care for those who have been cast aside, which would certainly include the widows of Jesus’ time. We hear Jesus say in the Book of Revelation "Behold, I stand at the door and knock." In the Hebrew Scriptures, the one who cares passionately about justice is God. And, through out Scripture, typically the ones who act unjustly and exploit other people, are people, not God. In the parables, typically, the bad king, the rude guest, the corrupt manager, or the stingy farmer represent people, not God. So, in the context of all of Scripture, perhaps there is different way to understand the parable of the unjust judge. Perhaps God is the one knocking so persistently, demanding justice, and perhaps WE are the judge. Perhaps the persistence in this parable is God’s persistence, the knocking that will not stop until justice has been served. And in this parable, suppose that we are the judge, the ones empowered by God to bring about justice, to care for the poor and the oppressed, the outcasts and the victims of injustice. The persistent knocking is knocking on the door of our hearts so that we may see and hear and feel the injustice of the world and be inspired by God to do something about it. Perhaps prayer is not about continually pestering God to do something about all that is wrong with our lives and the world until God gives in just so we will go away. Perhaps prayer is, at least in part, our listening for God to tell us all that is broken in this world and how we are to work on God’s behalf to bring about justice, healing, and peace.

             In the end, the story of Scripture, and the parable of the unjust judge, is not the story of human persistence at all. The story of Scripture, including our parable this morning, is the story of the persistence of God and how we respond to God’s persistent knocking.
                                                                                           Amen.

Joy

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 9, 2016

23 Proper C

          The last parish I served runs a large food pantry one Wednesday afternoon a month.  They serve about 150 families each time they open and distribute three days’ worth of food to each family.  The food comes from Shared Harvest, which provides food to food banks at a nominal cost.  So, the church is able to provide the usual staples like canned goods, peanut butter, and cereal, along with fresh produce and meat.  In addition, the parishioners provide toilet paper to go in the food bags since toilet paper is something that cannot be purchased with food stamps.  Here at Christ Church we are also collecting toilet paper for the Hudson food bank for the same reason. 

          One particular Wednesday the food pantry ran out of food a good thirty minutes before the posted closing time.  There was no food left on the shelves when a woman came to the door and rang the bell.  But we still had some toilet paper, so as I went to the door to explain to the woman that we were out of food, I picked up a large package so at least I could offer her something.  What the woman had actually come to do was retrieve her walker, which she had left behind earlier in the day when she had come for her food.  Since I was standing in the doorway holding a package of toilet paper, I offered it to her anyway.  The woman’s face lit up, she threw her hands up in the air and she shouted “Thank you, Jesus!”  Then she went on her way.

          I believe the gratitude the woman displayed for a package of toilet paper is the kind of gratitude the 10^th person with leprosy displays when he realizes that he has been healed.  He turns back, praises God with a loud voice, and falls at Jesus’ feet to thank him.  After the man has been healed, and after he has returned to give thanks, we are told that he is also a Samaritan. The ancestry of Samaritans was a mix of Hebrew and pagan, going back to the time when the Assyrians conquered and invaded the northern kingdom of Israel and mixed marriage became common.  The form of Judaism that developed in what remained of the Northern Kingdom was different from the Judaism that developed in the southern Kingdom as well, making the Samaritan a double outsider-once on account of the leprosy and once on account of his faith.

          What I find interesting and a bit annoying quite frankly, is Jesus’ criticism of the other 9 people who he healed of leprosy.  Jesus told them to go and show themselves to the priests, who would certify that they had been healed of the leprosy and could be restored to the community.  Those 9 people did what Jesus told them to do.  They were going off to show themselves to the priests.  The 10^th person who returned, was actually disobeying Jesus.  However, since he was a Samaritan, a) he did not observe the same laws around cleanliness that the other 9 did and b) even if he was declared clean by the priests, he still was not going to be made part of the community because he was a Samaritan.  But why does Jesus criticize the 9 who were simply doing what Jesus had told them to do?

          Hold that question while we hear what Jeremiah says this morning to the people who have been forcibly taken from the Promised Land and exiled in Babylon in the 6^th century BC.  We know from Psalm 137, which was written early in the exile, but which we did not hear this morning, that the people who were exiled in Babylon thought they could not possibly live as God’s people in a foreign land.  Their identity was tied up in being the people of a particular piece of real estate that God had provided for them.  The beginning of Psalm 137 reads “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion.  On the willows there, we hung up our harps.  For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”  How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?”  Into that misery, God speaks the words we hear from Jeremiah this morning: “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give you daughters in marriage….seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile and pray to the Lord on its behalf.  For in its welfare, you will find your welfare.”   God is telling the Hebrew people to settle down in Babylon, in this foreign place, and make it their home in the fullest sense of the word.  They will find new and different ways to worship and obey God in a foreign land.

          The 9 people who were cleansed of their leprosy did as Jesus instructed and they were doing as the law required.  They were obedient and faithful.  I am also quite sure that they were thankful.  The exiled people in Babylon also thought they were doing as God and the law required by holding on to their faithfulness to the land God had provided and their identity as people of that land.  They saw no way they could keep God’s law without a temple in which to worship.  In both cases, however, I think God is telling the faithful people that there is more to faith than just obedience.  Faith is also about joy and gratitude.  The Samaritan was filled with great joy and deep gratitude at the sudden miracle Jesus had done in his life, and used his whole self to demonstrate that gratitude.  The Hebrew people would settle down in Babylon, would learn that they could, indeed, worship and obey God there.  In fact, they would come to enjoy life there and find such meaningful ways to practice their faith apart from the Promised Land that many would choose to stay even when they were allowed return to the Promised Land some 50 years later. 

          We may not be as demonstrative in our gratitude as either the woman at the food pantry was when she received the package of toilet paper or as the Samaritan who was cleansed of leprosy.  But Jesus calls us to more than lip service to express our gratitude.  Our worship calls us to live as grateful people at all times and in all places.  We obey this call every Sunday as we pray “It is right and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere, to give thanks to You.”  This parish has certainly experienced times of deep challenge when you had to do the spiritual equivalent of building homes and living in a foreign land.  You have learned to give thanks in all times and places.  This parish has also experienced times of restoration and deep delight.  Jesus calls us to a lively faith, and to throw our whole selves into gratitude, not just out of obedience but out of joy.

                                                                   Amen.

Measuring

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 2, 2016

22 Proper C

          Our oldest son, Slocomb, celebrated his 30^th birthday this past Thursday.  This occasion required the making of our traditional family birthday cake and mailing it to Cincinnati.  The cake itself is our own creation, but the icing is the recipe my mother got from her mother.  Recipes handed on by word of mouth can be a bit tricky, especially since my mother did not put much stock in traditional units of measure when cooking.  Most of her recipes begin with a glob of butter, end with a package of chocolate chips, and might include a splash of vanilla.  If a recipe called for a teaspoon of something, baking soda, for instance, she used a teaspoon out of the silverware drawer.  Likewise, a soup spoon made a fine tablespoon.  Not until my sister and I took home economics in Junior High School did we know that real measuring spoons and cups actually exist.  Somehow Mom’s recipes always worked out, but following them now that she is gone is a bit of a challenge.  Through trial and error, I have taken the icing recipe which includes a glob of butter, two heaping spoons of cocoa, a small bowl of powdered sugar, some milk and a little vanilla and converted the recipe into something a little more precise.  And most of the time, my version turns out pretty close to Mom’s.

          This morning, the disciples think of faith as something that can be quantified and measured.  “Increase our faith,” they say to Jesus.  Maybe they have ¼ cup of faith now and think they would be better off, better disciples even, if they had ½ cup or even a whole cup.  When we read the stories leading up to their request this morning, we understand why they want more faith.  In the five verses prior to our gospel lesson, Jesus has said “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble,” and “If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent’, you must forgive.”  Having heard these two difficult teachings from Jesus, the disciples immediately say “Increase our faith.”

          Jesus is somewhat less than pastoral in his response to his disciple’s request.  To the disciples, who seem earnest in their request for more faith, Jesus says “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, `Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you.”  Exactly how much faith is faith the size of a mustard seed?  And why would anyone want a mulberry tree to uproot itself and be planted in the sea in the first place?  And if the disciples only need faith the size of a mustard seed, however much that is, their current faith must be invisible to the naked eye.  Jesus answer seems rather unhelpful.

          To make things worse, rather than tell the disciples and us how to have faith even the size of a mustard seed, Jesus says “Who among you would say to your slave…”  Jesus has called people who catch fish and collect taxes for a living, not people likely to have slaves who plow fields or tend sheep.  The answer to “who among you” is probably “none of us.”  That tells us that perhaps the disciples are asking the wrong question. Then Jesus proceeds with an odd and offensive teaching about the relationship between master and slave, which ends with the slaves saying at the end of a day spent serving the master “We are worthless slaves.  We have done only what we ought to have done.”  The whole passage makes little sense.

I wonder if absurdity might be at least part of Jesus’ point.  Perhaps the idea that there are units of measure for faith, and that faith can be increased from one size to another is also absurd.  If we put aside for a moment our offense at Jesus’ reference to slavery, what might we learn about faith from the rest of what Jesus has to say this morning?

Jesus’ point about the slaves is that they were not doing anything special or glamorous with their lives. They were simply doing the work they were given to do.  I wonder if the response to “Increase our faith” is “do the work you have been given to do.”  The reference to slaves, while abhorrent to our ears, is a reminder that, like a slave, we belong to someone else.  We belong to God.  Perhaps faith, rather than something that can be doled out a quarter cup at a time, is something that grows with use.  Just a few chapters earlier, Jesus said “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden; it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches.”  With the comparison to the mustard seed this morning, perhaps Jesus is telling the disciples that faith is something that must be nurtured and grown, and that the way to grow faith is by living our faith, practicing our faith over and over again by living our lives as people who belong to God.

          Mother Teresa is quoted as having said “Not all of us can do great things.  But we can do small things with great love.”  The people I know who I think of as people of great faith didn’t move metaphorical mountains or uproot metaphorical mulberry trees overnight.  My friend who founded a domestic violence shelter in a small town in West Virginia where all the civic organizations told her there was no domestic violence did this by taking one faithful baby step at a time until there was a fully funded and fully occupied shelter.  My friend who lived with pancreatic cancer for 13 months, lived one prayer at a time, one step at a time.  My friend that works for human rights in a town that is not interested in protecting human rights takes two steps forward and one step back, or one step forward and two steps back, but he keeps at the work, one small step at a time.  In all cases, their faith grew as they practiced their faith one small step at a time and did not give up.

          The disciples say to Jesus “Increase our faith.”  But there are no units of measure for faith, enough of which will give us the ability to say to a metaphorical mulberry tree “Be uprooted and planted in the sea.”  I think what Jesus says to the disciples and to us is “Grow your faith by practicing your faith one baby step at a time, you will change the world.” 

                                                                   Amen.

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.

         

          

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.

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.

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 21^st 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.