I got in trouble once preaching this story. It was at a preaching station and the three ladies who attended did not like the idea that they were graced in equal measure with the rest of the world. It was the only time someone in that congregation commented on one of my sermons and it was not complimentary!
Every three years, though, as I study this text, I still hear Jesus telling us that when we come to believe in him matters not at all, this the believing is all that is necessary. I am liberal enough to think that grace comes *before* belief but that's another discussion for another time.
So here's my sermon from three years ago, cleaned up slightly. Parts of it will likely show up in my sermon tomorrow morning.
Proper 20A RCL
Matthew 20:1-16
The drive into work in New Orleans took us right by a temporary work agency. By 7:00, many folks had already been hired on for the day. But all day long, more would arrive and some of those who arrived very early weren’t always hired early. Kind of like being picked last for the team. Even when we drove home at 4:30, there were still people hanging out. Whether they were still hoping to be hired, I don’t know.
Now the word slave is not politically correct and it is jarring when we hear it in the context of Scripture. Today’s parable does not talk about slaves, though, and that gives us all the information we have about these workers. You see, slaves have guaranteed employment.
If you recall the parable of the prodigal son, he planned to ask his father to make him one of the slaves for slaves were treated relatively well and had job security. Some of them even got paid for their work.
Not so laborers. If you found work, you ate. And finding work was chancy unless it was harvest time when more workers were needed.
So the landowner goes out early to the marketplace and hires laborers at the going rate. Jesus does not tell us whether all the available workers are hired, but hiring of at least some happens. At nine, the landowner hires more folks and tells them he will pay what is right. Naturally, they assume it will be less than a full day’s wage. Three more times, he hires laborers
and the last time, he asks why they aren’t already working somewhere. "No one has hired us,"
they reply.
Now, the usual interpretation here is that these people arrived late, maybe partied too long the night before, or that they are known to be poor workers so no one wants to hire them. But Jesus doesn’t tell us that. He simply says that at 5 o’clock, there are still workers waiting to be hired.
Already, this story is departing from the normal. It was common to hire laborers and it would be done early in order to get a full day’s work done. So going out again and again is a little strange and the hearers must have wondered why the landowner is so anxious to get the harvest done quickly. While there are lots of possible reasons, Jesus doesn’t tell us why. Our speculation is interesting but not overly useful.
But the command to pay the last first is really out of the ordinary. At this point, Jesus’ audience is on the alert. And they are right to be so for the landowner pays every single laborer the full day’s wage. I guarantee you there was murmuring going on!
Even in the early church, the listeners were deeply shocked by this turn of events. We know this because there are five endings to this parable plus Matthew’s own saying about the last and first. The original ending was “friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?” This is a bitter pill to swallow but it does make sense. The first got what they had agreed to.
After that, the endings get more and more bizarre as the church tries to explain what happened.
“Take what belongs to you and go” is not the least bit helpful. “I choose to give to this last the same as I give you” really just restates what Jesus said. “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me” is beginning to get the point. But “are you envious because I am generous” seems a very odd thing to say especially if it really means “is your eye evil because
I am good?” which is a literal translation of the Greek.
And then we have Matthew’s own end to the parable. To understand it, we have to go back to the end of the previous chapter.
The rich young man has just been to see Jesus and learned that all his good works won’t get him into heaven. In fact, Jesus tells the disciples that it will be harder for the wealthy to enter the kingdom than it is for the poor. He doesn’t say they won’t enter but that possessions shift our focus from the kingdom of God to our own kingdoms. The disciples ask, “who then can be saved?” and Jesus tells them “for mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”
And Peter once again puts his foot wrong and says, “we have left everything for you so what will be our reward; what will we have?”
Jesus does not rebuke him this time. He tells Peter that the disciples will sit on thrones around him and pass judgment on the tribes of Israel. Then he says that anyone who has left their old life behind to follow him will receive a hundredfold and have eternal life. And he ends by saying,
“But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”
It is quite possible that today’s parable is aimed directly at the disciples who, still thinking in earthly terms, expect to receive a greater reward than those who have only come to believe
in the last few days or weeks. To emphasize the point of the parable, Matthew returns to the words of the last teaching about the kingdom. “The last will be first, and the first will be last”
he ends this parable.
I’d love to say that settled it for the disciples but the very next scene in the Gospel of Matthew
is where James and John – in Matthew’s telling, it’s their mother who does the talking – ask if they can have the seats on Jesus’ left and right. It is hard to think in heavenly terms when all we know are earthly ones.
Okay, what does this mean for us as well as for the rest of the household of God?
Grace, like forgiveness, comes in one size only and is available to all. No matter how long we have been followers of the Christ, we receive the same amount of grace as everyone else. We can’t work for it. We can’t stockpile it. Grace belongs to God and God seems to bestow it freely without any evidence that the bestowee ought to get it. Apparently, God does not see
with our eyes or judge with our kind of judgment. And that's good news for all of us, isn't it?
You and I actively work for the kingdom of God. Saying our prayers, attending services regularly, sharing in the Eucharist, helping out whenever and wherever we can, giving part of our wealth to the church in thanksgiving for God’s grace and love. There are myriad other ways
that we work for the kingdom. But we do that work because it is what God’s people do not because it earns us points or a better seat at the banquet.
Jesus has racked up all the points. He has done the hardest work for us.
Does it really matter if the last are first or the first are first? Not at all. We are given our invitation to the banquet at birth. Some begin their labor in the vineyard as soon as they can walk and talk. Others come and go or choose to wait until the last minute and there are lots of people who don’t even know they have labored until they see God.
God loves each and every one of us and God blesses us all with grace in exactly the same measure, just enough.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Forgiving and forgetting
After much thought and prayer - will I ever really understand forgiveness or do I understand and refuse to acknowledge that? - here is the base for my sermon tomorrow. Whether it will come out this way is anyone's guess, of course, but it is what I think God is calling me to say.
How many of us come to church today intending to say the General Confession while still hanging on to a hurt, anger or grudge which we have no intention of forgiving? I am in that number and I daresay I am not the only one here who is.
Three years ago, when I last preached these texts, I said that there was someone in my past who had hurt me and that when I thought of or talked about that experience, the hurt always came back. Except, by the time of that sermon, I realized that the hurt was no longer there, that there was no power in the story to make me angry with that person anymore. This week, as I read that sermon again, I discovered that I no longer remember what the person had even done and I felt really good about that. I still do.
But that event was more than twenty-five years ago! For way too long, I didn’t let it go nor did I attempt to do anything to reconcile with the person who I felt had hurt me. That’s a lot of General Confessions said while still carrying the burden of my lack of forgiveness.
Let’s face it, we are not good at forgiving. Even those of us who think we are probably aren’t. We are willing to say a quick “Oh that’s all right. It wasn’t that big a deal” to most infractions against us but we don’t always mean it. How often when we see the person we have “forgiven” do we once again think of the unkind thing she said or the lack of respect we feel from him? If we aren’t really going to forget these things, can we really say we have forgiven them? Are we just acting the role of the morally righteous in the hope that no one will see through the façade?
Jesus says we are to forgive way past the point of reason. But it is only recently that I have come to understand that forgetting really is a major part of forgiving. If we can’t forget, then we still need to forgive. If we hold a grudge or still chew over the painful events, we are being slowly consumed by our own anger.
It the parable, the servant who owes several lifetimes of debt ought to go away from his master’s room joyful and feeling lighter than air not that the heavy burden has been lifted from his soul. But instead, he lashes out in great anger when he sees someone who owes him a much smaller debt. We all know what’s wrong with this picture and we don’t see ourselves in it because none of us, I am sure, has incurred debts of such magnitude. And we are not too quick to move the parable from the realm of monetary debt to any other kind
because monetary debt probably doesn’t divide us from one another.
Harsh words, deeds done intentionally and especially unintentionally, things done and left undone are far more likely to separate us. And those may, in fact, be harder to forgive than a debt of money. Why? Because those things cut into the fabric of our life together in ways that money never will.
When your brother dies, you expect me to call, don’t you? Well, let’s say I forget to do that and when I next see you at the door after church, I don’t say anything about him or ask how you are doing. It is perfectly natural for you to think, “Maggie doesn’t care about me. She isn’t the least bit pastoral.” And when a friend is in need of care, you will say something like, “well, don’t call the church for help. Maggie doesn’t do pastoral care.”
Now what if I never knew that your brother died? Perhaps, in your haste to go to be with the rest of your family before and after the funeral, you didn’t call but you assumed that someone else would do that for you. But you try to brush it off by thinking that I must have been really busy and you want to believe that I still care about you even though it looks like I don’t.
Simply brushing this aside with an “Oh that’s all right” isn’t forgiveness. The only way to begin forgiving is, as we heard last week, to come see me and lay out the problem. Because if I don’t know that I’ve hurt you, how can I ask you to forgive me?
St. Paul warns us against passing judgment. I think that sometimes we confuse judgment and forgiveness. If you can just make the flat statement , “Maggie doesn’t do pastoral care” then you have passed judgment and think you can put it behind you. Forgiveness requires us to confront the one who has hurt us, remember the hurt even though that means living it again, and then being willing to see it from the other person’s eyes. One person’s throwaway line may well be another’s knife in the back. One person’s pain of rejection may be another’s unawareness of events.
When we judge others, we rarely forget why we have made that judgment. There is no forgiveness in our judgment of one another. That is why Paul exhorts us not to judge. Judgment leads to self righteousness and superiority and that leads right back to our need to ask forgiveness. For when we act out of our own sense of right, we very often cause deep pain for someone else.
Paul and Matthew are writing to and for specific communities, both of them very new Christians. Despite two thousand years of Christian history between them and us, we haven’t advanced all that far in our own faith that we cannot still learn the lessons these new believers had to learn.
We pray today that the Holy Spirit will direct and rule our hearts in all things. More than an annual collect for the day, that prayer needs to be one we say daily, even more than once a day. For the Holy Spirit is very good about opening our hearts and mouths to say the right thing and our minds and hands to do it. And by living a Spirit-led life, we will find the way to forgive each other our transgressions and then to forget them altogether. Then we can go forth into the world with joy knowing that God has forgiven us and our burden has been lifted from us.
How many of us come to church today intending to say the General Confession while still hanging on to a hurt, anger or grudge which we have no intention of forgiving? I am in that number and I daresay I am not the only one here who is.
Three years ago, when I last preached these texts, I said that there was someone in my past who had hurt me and that when I thought of or talked about that experience, the hurt always came back. Except, by the time of that sermon, I realized that the hurt was no longer there, that there was no power in the story to make me angry with that person anymore. This week, as I read that sermon again, I discovered that I no longer remember what the person had even done and I felt really good about that. I still do.
But that event was more than twenty-five years ago! For way too long, I didn’t let it go nor did I attempt to do anything to reconcile with the person who I felt had hurt me. That’s a lot of General Confessions said while still carrying the burden of my lack of forgiveness.
Let’s face it, we are not good at forgiving. Even those of us who think we are probably aren’t. We are willing to say a quick “Oh that’s all right. It wasn’t that big a deal” to most infractions against us but we don’t always mean it. How often when we see the person we have “forgiven” do we once again think of the unkind thing she said or the lack of respect we feel from him? If we aren’t really going to forget these things, can we really say we have forgiven them? Are we just acting the role of the morally righteous in the hope that no one will see through the façade?
Jesus says we are to forgive way past the point of reason. But it is only recently that I have come to understand that forgetting really is a major part of forgiving. If we can’t forget, then we still need to forgive. If we hold a grudge or still chew over the painful events, we are being slowly consumed by our own anger.
It the parable, the servant who owes several lifetimes of debt ought to go away from his master’s room joyful and feeling lighter than air not that the heavy burden has been lifted from his soul. But instead, he lashes out in great anger when he sees someone who owes him a much smaller debt. We all know what’s wrong with this picture and we don’t see ourselves in it because none of us, I am sure, has incurred debts of such magnitude. And we are not too quick to move the parable from the realm of monetary debt to any other kind
because monetary debt probably doesn’t divide us from one another.
Harsh words, deeds done intentionally and especially unintentionally, things done and left undone are far more likely to separate us. And those may, in fact, be harder to forgive than a debt of money. Why? Because those things cut into the fabric of our life together in ways that money never will.
When your brother dies, you expect me to call, don’t you? Well, let’s say I forget to do that and when I next see you at the door after church, I don’t say anything about him or ask how you are doing. It is perfectly natural for you to think, “Maggie doesn’t care about me. She isn’t the least bit pastoral.” And when a friend is in need of care, you will say something like, “well, don’t call the church for help. Maggie doesn’t do pastoral care.”
Now what if I never knew that your brother died? Perhaps, in your haste to go to be with the rest of your family before and after the funeral, you didn’t call but you assumed that someone else would do that for you. But you try to brush it off by thinking that I must have been really busy and you want to believe that I still care about you even though it looks like I don’t.
Simply brushing this aside with an “Oh that’s all right” isn’t forgiveness. The only way to begin forgiving is, as we heard last week, to come see me and lay out the problem. Because if I don’t know that I’ve hurt you, how can I ask you to forgive me?
St. Paul warns us against passing judgment. I think that sometimes we confuse judgment and forgiveness. If you can just make the flat statement , “Maggie doesn’t do pastoral care” then you have passed judgment and think you can put it behind you. Forgiveness requires us to confront the one who has hurt us, remember the hurt even though that means living it again, and then being willing to see it from the other person’s eyes. One person’s throwaway line may well be another’s knife in the back. One person’s pain of rejection may be another’s unawareness of events.
When we judge others, we rarely forget why we have made that judgment. There is no forgiveness in our judgment of one another. That is why Paul exhorts us not to judge. Judgment leads to self righteousness and superiority and that leads right back to our need to ask forgiveness. For when we act out of our own sense of right, we very often cause deep pain for someone else.
Paul and Matthew are writing to and for specific communities, both of them very new Christians. Despite two thousand years of Christian history between them and us, we haven’t advanced all that far in our own faith that we cannot still learn the lessons these new believers had to learn.
We pray today that the Holy Spirit will direct and rule our hearts in all things. More than an annual collect for the day, that prayer needs to be one we say daily, even more than once a day. For the Holy Spirit is very good about opening our hearts and mouths to say the right thing and our minds and hands to do it. And by living a Spirit-led life, we will find the way to forgive each other our transgressions and then to forget them altogether. Then we can go forth into the world with joy knowing that God has forgiven us and our burden has been lifted from us.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Friday Five - School?
1. Is anyone going back to school, as a student or teacher, at your house? How's it going so far?
While the dog could use a refresher course, no one is going to school this semester. I am, though, preparing to teach church history next semester and that could be going better. It's the first time I've taught for the Diocese so it feels different.
2. Were you glad or sad when back-to-school time came as a kid?
I liked school so I looked forward to going back each fall. The only year that was hard was firt grade and that was because my mother was about to have a baby so life was less normal than usual. I think Daddy went off to band camp about then, too, and I was staying with oen family while my sister went to another. Nope, I was not happy.
3. Did your family of origin have any rituals to mark this time of year? How about now?
When I was in elementary school, part of our August vacation was going to my great-uncles' store in Mars Hill and getting school supplies. One year, we bought readers too for my younger sister. I do remember never liking the socks.
We didn't have any rituals for my kids. When we moved to New Orleans, I remember having to find new stores for shopping for new school clothes. One day, I saw a store I knew I'd seen advertised and suggested we stop and see what they had. It was all we could do to walk all the way through the furniture store and back out before laughing ourselves sick! :-)
4. Favorite memories of back-to-school outfits, lunchboxes, etc?
Not a one. I'm sure I must have had a lunchbox at one point but I don't remember. And there's very few outfits I remember wearing ever. Now if you asked my sister, Barbara, I'm sure she remembers every single one.
5. What was your best year of school?
I'm not sure one year stands out more than another. I loved most all of them right through both master's degrees. First grade was memorable because I walked home with Mrs. Boone and her children many a night - kept after for not completing Today's News which I learned was more fun than finishing it. In fifth grade, I got to work in the library for the first time and that was a real treat as well as setting the course for my first career. In 12th grade, I was a chemistry lab assistant - a clear case of the halt leading the blind - and it was a lot of fun. That year, I only had four major subjects so I could fit choir into my schedule and I love to sing.
I remember a lot of my teachers. So many of those men and women pushed and prodded me into being more than I wanted to be - type B personality traits came out early. I saw that same dedication in some of my kids' teachers, too. I so admire those who feel called to teach and don't lose the call part of that when they finally get into the classroom.
School starts early in upper East Tennessee. Our kids have been back for over a month now. My great-nephew, who lives in Illinois, had his first day a few weeks ago. He is a first grader and still trying to decide if he wants to be one. His brother starts pre-school in two more weeks and can hardly wait, having watched his brother love those three years in Montessori. May they both love learning as much as I still do.
1. Is anyone going back to school, as a student or teacher, at your house? How's it going so far?
While the dog could use a refresher course, no one is going to school this semester. I am, though, preparing to teach church history next semester and that could be going better. It's the first time I've taught for the Diocese so it feels different.
2. Were you glad or sad when back-to-school time came as a kid?
I liked school so I looked forward to going back each fall. The only year that was hard was firt grade and that was because my mother was about to have a baby so life was less normal than usual. I think Daddy went off to band camp about then, too, and I was staying with oen family while my sister went to another. Nope, I was not happy.
3. Did your family of origin have any rituals to mark this time of year? How about now?
When I was in elementary school, part of our August vacation was going to my great-uncles' store in Mars Hill and getting school supplies. One year, we bought readers too for my younger sister. I do remember never liking the socks.
We didn't have any rituals for my kids. When we moved to New Orleans, I remember having to find new stores for shopping for new school clothes. One day, I saw a store I knew I'd seen advertised and suggested we stop and see what they had. It was all we could do to walk all the way through the furniture store and back out before laughing ourselves sick! :-)
4. Favorite memories of back-to-school outfits, lunchboxes, etc?
Not a one. I'm sure I must have had a lunchbox at one point but I don't remember. And there's very few outfits I remember wearing ever. Now if you asked my sister, Barbara, I'm sure she remembers every single one.
5. What was your best year of school?
I'm not sure one year stands out more than another. I loved most all of them right through both master's degrees. First grade was memorable because I walked home with Mrs. Boone and her children many a night - kept after for not completing Today's News which I learned was more fun than finishing it. In fifth grade, I got to work in the library for the first time and that was a real treat as well as setting the course for my first career. In 12th grade, I was a chemistry lab assistant - a clear case of the halt leading the blind - and it was a lot of fun. That year, I only had four major subjects so I could fit choir into my schedule and I love to sing.
I remember a lot of my teachers. So many of those men and women pushed and prodded me into being more than I wanted to be - type B personality traits came out early. I saw that same dedication in some of my kids' teachers, too. I so admire those who feel called to teach and don't lose the call part of that when they finally get into the classroom.
School starts early in upper East Tennessee. Our kids have been back for over a month now. My great-nephew, who lives in Illinois, had his first day a few weeks ago. He is a first grader and still trying to decide if he wants to be one. His brother starts pre-school in two more weeks and can hardly wait, having watched his brother love those three years in Montessori. May they both love learning as much as I still do.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Puppets and Children's Homilies
Last year, we instituted a monthly children's homily. It takes the place of the sermon since it is my experience that adults listen to the kids' part and don't need another sermon on top of that.
A friend of mine was telling me that he had a puppet he used for homilies - he was doing a children's chapel service every Sunday, complete with homily, a feat I never want to try. Anyway, one Sunday, he left the puppet at home. When the service started, one of the kids asked where "Jeff" (I can't remember his name) was and Andy explained how he had stayed at home that morning. "No offense, Andy, but we like it better when Jeff preaches," responded the child. !!
With that in mind, I set off to find my own puppet. I loved one in particular. It was a dessert sheep, dressed up in nomad garb and complete with sunglasses. But the first time I practiced with the puppet, I realized a terrible thing. He was male and I can't *do* male. So I took him back and gave up on the puppet idea.
Until my installation in May. The Sunday School gave me a puppet. She is a camel with very long eyelashes and gold trim on her headgear. Yesterday, we went down to the church to practice for Sunday's debut sermon. Well, her name is Mae East and she has a deep Southern gentlewoman accent. I love her! Let's hope the kids do, too.
A friend of mine was telling me that he had a puppet he used for homilies - he was doing a children's chapel service every Sunday, complete with homily, a feat I never want to try. Anyway, one Sunday, he left the puppet at home. When the service started, one of the kids asked where "Jeff" (I can't remember his name) was and Andy explained how he had stayed at home that morning. "No offense, Andy, but we like it better when Jeff preaches," responded the child. !!
With that in mind, I set off to find my own puppet. I loved one in particular. It was a dessert sheep, dressed up in nomad garb and complete with sunglasses. But the first time I practiced with the puppet, I realized a terrible thing. He was male and I can't *do* male. So I took him back and gave up on the puppet idea.
Until my installation in May. The Sunday School gave me a puppet. She is a camel with very long eyelashes and gold trim on her headgear. Yesterday, we went down to the church to practice for Sunday's debut sermon. Well, her name is Mae East and she has a deep Southern gentlewoman accent. I love her! Let's hope the kids do, too.
Logs and specks
I am disheartened today. A very nice group of people got together last night to be about the work of the Lord and did a lot of complaining and character assassination. How do we ever expect the world to give Christianity credence when we just don't/can't behave like Christians?
Sometimes, I wonder if we even consider what it means to follow Jesus. Actually doing it seems to be even more hit or miss. And yet I know some people who are incredibly successful at being Christian, treating everyone as a loved member of the household of God even if that person drives them crazy. When did it become necessary for us to tell others *that* they drive us nuts and *how* they drive us nuts. Oh yes, and how to *change* so they will no longer drive us nuts.
I commisserated with God on the drive home about putting up with all of us when I am sure God regularly feels like I did last night.
Sometimes, I wonder if we even consider what it means to follow Jesus. Actually doing it seems to be even more hit or miss. And yet I know some people who are incredibly successful at being Christian, treating everyone as a loved member of the household of God even if that person drives them crazy. When did it become necessary for us to tell others *that* they drive us nuts and *how* they drive us nuts. Oh yes, and how to *change* so they will no longer drive us nuts.
I commisserated with God on the drive home about putting up with all of us when I am sure God regularly feels like I did last night.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Matthew 15:10-28
This morning, in the shower as usual, I began thinking about what to say next Sunday. I've pulled the two sermons from previous years and will look them over before starting in on the commentaries and online info later this morning. But here are my first thoughts.
When I was about 4, we got a new car. I remember asking my dad why and his answer was something about the car being broken. In my small child's mind, that meant the forbidden "do not touch this" cigarette lighter no longer worked. Well, it did and I burned my finger! Daddy asked me why I had touched it and of course I fed his own words right back to him, "you told me the car was broken."
When we are wee children, we need black and white rules. Don't touch the stove, don't cross the street, don't squeeze the cat - I'm noticing that we tend to stress the negative in all these rules. My sister, Helen, told her little boys (14 months apart) that they had to keep their seatbelts fastened because if they didn't and she had to stop quickly, they might fly through the windshield - from the back seat, of course - and die. It comes as no surprise, then, that the day curious Greg undid his seatbelt, literal Robert cried, "Greg's gonna die!"
Rules are good to have but at some point we begin to reason and think logically and some of the rules don't work anymore. We learn that the stove is only hot when the burner is red or the flame is on. We learn that a hot stove can be a good thing. And, hopefully, before we leave our parents' houses, we learn how to use the stove for our well being!
Once we are adults, there are very few black and white rules anymore and I think most of them can be traced back to the ten commandments. Don't kill, don't steal, honor your parents, have but one God still work. But so many of our rules begin to show signs of grey. Sometimes talking to strangers is a good thing, for instance.
I remember a friend telling me once that she was terrified of African Americans. She was almost 40 years old and had never met anyone who was not as white as she was! Then she went back to school, got a job in the nearby city and learned that her childhood fear was unfounded. Furthermore, she discovered that not all white people were good just because they were white.
The Pharisees can't let go of any of their rules. To do so would mean being unclean and maybe even jeopardize their standing as Pharisees. The disciples, who were never Pharisee material, have some hard and fast rules of their own. Jesus sets out to stand them all on their heads.
And that's it for starters. Since there is no way this is a complete sermon, I trust there will be more to follow. ;-)
When I was about 4, we got a new car. I remember asking my dad why and his answer was something about the car being broken. In my small child's mind, that meant the forbidden "do not touch this" cigarette lighter no longer worked. Well, it did and I burned my finger! Daddy asked me why I had touched it and of course I fed his own words right back to him, "you told me the car was broken."
When we are wee children, we need black and white rules. Don't touch the stove, don't cross the street, don't squeeze the cat - I'm noticing that we tend to stress the negative in all these rules. My sister, Helen, told her little boys (14 months apart) that they had to keep their seatbelts fastened because if they didn't and she had to stop quickly, they might fly through the windshield - from the back seat, of course - and die. It comes as no surprise, then, that the day curious Greg undid his seatbelt, literal Robert cried, "Greg's gonna die!"
Rules are good to have but at some point we begin to reason and think logically and some of the rules don't work anymore. We learn that the stove is only hot when the burner is red or the flame is on. We learn that a hot stove can be a good thing. And, hopefully, before we leave our parents' houses, we learn how to use the stove for our well being!
Once we are adults, there are very few black and white rules anymore and I think most of them can be traced back to the ten commandments. Don't kill, don't steal, honor your parents, have but one God still work. But so many of our rules begin to show signs of grey. Sometimes talking to strangers is a good thing, for instance.
I remember a friend telling me once that she was terrified of African Americans. She was almost 40 years old and had never met anyone who was not as white as she was! Then she went back to school, got a job in the nearby city and learned that her childhood fear was unfounded. Furthermore, she discovered that not all white people were good just because they were white.
The Pharisees can't let go of any of their rules. To do so would mean being unclean and maybe even jeopardize their standing as Pharisees. The disciples, who were never Pharisee material, have some hard and fast rules of their own. Jesus sets out to stand them all on their heads.
And that's it for starters. Since there is no way this is a complete sermon, I trust there will be more to follow. ;-)
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Peter and Jesus on the water
This is my sermon from three years ago. I'll likely say something like this again but I still have some reading to do. And today is the Feast of the Transfiguration so I have that sermon to think about as well - although that story appears about twice a year besides today so I have some idea what I'll say.
Anyway, here's Jesus, Peter, the water and the boat.
Proper 14A
Matthew 14:22-33
After feeding all those people
in last week’s gospel,
after overcoming
the disciples’ skepticism,
Jesus manages to disperse the crowd
and get the disciples to row back
across the lake without him.
It’s been a very long day
but now Jesus
gets time alone to pray.
Well the disciples haven’t been away
from Jesus in a long while
so they might wonder
why he forced them to go.
But going out in the boat
is not a problem.
Remember that many of these men
have made their living on this sea.
They know the boat inside out,
know when to raise
the sails,
when to bring them down
and when it is best to row.
The disciples also know the sea
as well as we know our way to work
or school or the grocery store.
They know where it is deepest.
They know its winds and weather.
They know the trip back across
will be into the wind
and that the water is likely
to be choppy.
We have this image of hapless disciples
floundering around in a sea whipped
by gale force winds
that cause mountainous waves
to wash over the boat.
This is not a boat about to capsize.
Yes, there is a struggle
to row back to the home shore
four miles away
but the boat and the disciples
have made this kind of trip before.
It is early in the morning
when Jesus ends his prayers
and begins his own
journey back across the sea.
By now, the disciples are tired
from the exertion of rowing
as well as from the lateness of the hour.
So when they see Jesus coming,
they are, not surprisingly, frightened.
In all of Near Eastern theology –
Jewish or pagan –
no one can walk on the chaos
of the sea except God
because only God can tame
the chaos.
We are still two chapters away
from Peter’s statement,
“You are the Messiah,
the Son of the living God.”
and the disciples are still getting the big picture.
Naturally, we
think they should have figured it out by now
but we weren’t there
and I’m fairly sure
we wouldn’t have done any better.
Be certain, though,
that the disciples hear Jesus say,
“Take heart”
just like Moses told the Israelites
when they were caught between the sea
and pharaoh’s army;
“it is I”
just like God answered Moses
from the burning bush;
and “do not be afraid”
just like Isaiah told Israel
when she was in exile.
In Peter,
ha Satan finds just enough lack
of faith
to insinuate the idea of testing
what Jesus is saying and doing.
“Lord,” says Peter –
he really does know
who this is –
“if it is you,
command me to walk on water, too.”
And Jesus,
who has already
given ample demonstration of his authority
and even shared that authority with
these twelve men,
now shares his power and authority
over the chaos of the sea
with one who questions
that very authority and power.
Peter steps out of the boat
and takes several steps,
keeping his eye on the Christ.
But the wind catches his cloak,
and distracts him just enough
to replace his growing faith
with fear of the elements.
Like so many of us when we get in trouble,
Peter cries out,
“Lord, save me!”
Jesus stretches out his hand
and helps Peter back into the boat.
The message here is not
that Peter’s lack of faith caused
him to sink.
The message here is that Peter
should have heard Jesus’ words
telling the disciples
that, even though he was not physically present
in the boat, he was there anyway.
“Take heart, it is I. Do not be afraid.”
There should have been enough faith in the boat
for Peter to have stayed put.
Peter never should have gotten out of the boat.
Theologian Eugene Boring says,
“Faith is not being able
to walk on the water –
only God can do that –
but daring to believe,
in the face of all the evidence,
that God is with us in the boat,
made real in the community of faith
as it makes its way through the storm,
battered by the waves.”
Matthew is telling the story of the disciples
but he is telling
it to a community battered
by the political and religious waves
of the time.
In this passage,
he is clearly saying to his community,
“you will find your faith within
the community.
Don’t go testing God
thinking that will bring you
what you already have.”
For centuries,
the boat has been a symbol
for the Church,
the body of Christ in the world.
It is from stories like this one
that that image grew.
So here we are in our boat.
There are storms out there
of one kind or another.
How are we going to weather them?
Not all of the disciples
were fishermen.
We know that Matthew was a tax collector.
You may think that he had nothing
to do with getting that boat
back across the sea.
But I suspect that he probably helped bail
or maybe took a turn at the oars
when one of the real sailors
needed a break.
If those twelve men had not worked together,
even a small storm
would have capsized their boat.
If half of them chose to be rowed
instead of helping row,
the same fate would have been likely.
Despite differences in skill
or intelligence
or opinion,
the disciples pulled together
to get the boat home safely.
Being in the boat requires
being a member of the crew.
We cannot sit quietly and hope the others
can get us back to shore.
We have to pitch in however we can
and keep the boat afloat.
We are one in Christ.
We have different skills
and some of us are smarter than others.
We have lots of opinions
on all sides and in the middle
of just about any issue we can think of.
But we are still one in Christ
and part of this community.
Our faith in the triune God
is expressed in what we do here together.
Our strength for facing personal storms
comes from being part of this worshiping community.
And our commitment to each other
is necessary for our spiritual growth.
Jesus is in the boat with us.
He manifests the love and grace of God here.
Our job as disciples of Christ
is to stay in the boat
and do whatever we have to do
to keep it afloat.
And that takes all of us
working together
for the glory of God.
Anyway, here's Jesus, Peter, the water and the boat.
Proper 14A
Matthew 14:22-33
After feeding all those people
in last week’s gospel,
after overcoming
the disciples’ skepticism,
Jesus manages to disperse the crowd
and get the disciples to row back
across the lake without him.
It’s been a very long day
but now Jesus
gets time alone to pray.
Well the disciples haven’t been away
from Jesus in a long while
so they might wonder
why he forced them to go.
But going out in the boat
is not a problem.
Remember that many of these men
have made their living on this sea.
They know the boat inside out,
know when to raise
the sails,
when to bring them down
and when it is best to row.
The disciples also know the sea
as well as we know our way to work
or school or the grocery store.
They know where it is deepest.
They know its winds and weather.
They know the trip back across
will be into the wind
and that the water is likely
to be choppy.
We have this image of hapless disciples
floundering around in a sea whipped
by gale force winds
that cause mountainous waves
to wash over the boat.
This is not a boat about to capsize.
Yes, there is a struggle
to row back to the home shore
four miles away
but the boat and the disciples
have made this kind of trip before.
It is early in the morning
when Jesus ends his prayers
and begins his own
journey back across the sea.
By now, the disciples are tired
from the exertion of rowing
as well as from the lateness of the hour.
So when they see Jesus coming,
they are, not surprisingly, frightened.
In all of Near Eastern theology –
Jewish or pagan –
no one can walk on the chaos
of the sea except God
because only God can tame
the chaos.
We are still two chapters away
from Peter’s statement,
“You are the Messiah,
the Son of the living God.”
and the disciples are still getting the big picture.
Naturally, we
think they should have figured it out by now
but we weren’t there
and I’m fairly sure
we wouldn’t have done any better.
Be certain, though,
that the disciples hear Jesus say,
“Take heart”
just like Moses told the Israelites
when they were caught between the sea
and pharaoh’s army;
“it is I”
just like God answered Moses
from the burning bush;
and “do not be afraid”
just like Isaiah told Israel
when she was in exile.
In Peter,
ha Satan finds just enough lack
of faith
to insinuate the idea of testing
what Jesus is saying and doing.
“Lord,” says Peter –
he really does know
who this is –
“if it is you,
command me to walk on water, too.”
And Jesus,
who has already
given ample demonstration of his authority
and even shared that authority with
these twelve men,
now shares his power and authority
over the chaos of the sea
with one who questions
that very authority and power.
Peter steps out of the boat
and takes several steps,
keeping his eye on the Christ.
But the wind catches his cloak,
and distracts him just enough
to replace his growing faith
with fear of the elements.
Like so many of us when we get in trouble,
Peter cries out,
“Lord, save me!”
Jesus stretches out his hand
and helps Peter back into the boat.
The message here is not
that Peter’s lack of faith caused
him to sink.
The message here is that Peter
should have heard Jesus’ words
telling the disciples
that, even though he was not physically present
in the boat, he was there anyway.
“Take heart, it is I. Do not be afraid.”
There should have been enough faith in the boat
for Peter to have stayed put.
Peter never should have gotten out of the boat.
Theologian Eugene Boring says,
“Faith is not being able
to walk on the water –
only God can do that –
but daring to believe,
in the face of all the evidence,
that God is with us in the boat,
made real in the community of faith
as it makes its way through the storm,
battered by the waves.”
Matthew is telling the story of the disciples
but he is telling
it to a community battered
by the political and religious waves
of the time.
In this passage,
he is clearly saying to his community,
“you will find your faith within
the community.
Don’t go testing God
thinking that will bring you
what you already have.”
For centuries,
the boat has been a symbol
for the Church,
the body of Christ in the world.
It is from stories like this one
that that image grew.
So here we are in our boat.
There are storms out there
of one kind or another.
How are we going to weather them?
Not all of the disciples
were fishermen.
We know that Matthew was a tax collector.
You may think that he had nothing
to do with getting that boat
back across the sea.
But I suspect that he probably helped bail
or maybe took a turn at the oars
when one of the real sailors
needed a break.
If those twelve men had not worked together,
even a small storm
would have capsized their boat.
If half of them chose to be rowed
instead of helping row,
the same fate would have been likely.
Despite differences in skill
or intelligence
or opinion,
the disciples pulled together
to get the boat home safely.
Being in the boat requires
being a member of the crew.
We cannot sit quietly and hope the others
can get us back to shore.
We have to pitch in however we can
and keep the boat afloat.
We are one in Christ.
We have different skills
and some of us are smarter than others.
We have lots of opinions
on all sides and in the middle
of just about any issue we can think of.
But we are still one in Christ
and part of this community.
Our faith in the triune God
is expressed in what we do here together.
Our strength for facing personal storms
comes from being part of this worshiping community.
And our commitment to each other
is necessary for our spiritual growth.
Jesus is in the boat with us.
He manifests the love and grace of God here.
Our job as disciples of Christ
is to stay in the boat
and do whatever we have to do
to keep it afloat.
And that takes all of us
working together
for the glory of God.
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