October 11, 2015

                  What must we do to inherit eternal life – and what is eternal life anyway? Is it the good life? Is it a blessed life? We have visions of fullness and plenty surrounded by those we love. We hope to see our pets in heaven. We think of some distant place of perfection where we ourselves are perfect. Whatever it is, eternal life seems to belong in a place far away and far from the present.

                  We could enlarge our vision of eternal life and place it in our present. What would eternal life, or the good life look like if we were to be living it right now? We live in a world that bombards us with possible definitions. We can aspire to amass great wealth and accumulate many wonderful things. Perhaps we could harness the promise of technology to create tools to make the world a better place – with clean energy and plentiful food and medicine. Maybe we could create beautiful and challenging works of art that make us come together in a common experience of humanity.

                  There seems like a lot of work to do! Can we achieve the good life? We have so many old assumptions about what is good or bad. We are often influenced by appearances. We assume things about people because of how good-looking or ugly they might be. We assume things about people who are wealthy, and about people who are poor. We know we shouldn’t think this, but we assume people get what they deserve. This is not new. People thought this of Job. He was a very good man who was tested. Are we comfortable with a God who tests Job in this way? Job’s friends and his wife all assume he has done something for which he must confess and beg forgiveness of God. Job insists his innocence and wonders if he will ever be able to present his case to God.

                  What if this was all wrong? The pursuit of the good life is not in perfection or completion, but in what is learned along the way. Job seems uncomfortable holding this sure idea of his goodness and an idea of a capricious and punishing God – it’s not supposed to work that way. We also have recited a psalm that you may have recognized. These are the words Jesus quotes from the cross. The rest of the psalm we did not read proclaims God’s victory and the psalmist’s praise. Jesus laments his suffering and praises God for victory at the same time. Isn’t that what the cross is all about?

                  In the gospel, Jesus is on a journey. He is on the way, intentionally proceeding to his destiny in Jerusalem. A rich young man kneels before him. “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” By all appearances, he is a good man. He obeys all the law. He is earnestly seeking how to do God’s will. What answer did he expect? What answer do we expect? If we could forget what we heard and know of Jesus’ response: how would we approach Jesus? I believe we are often in the same place as this rich young man. We want to know the steps. (Seven steps? Ten rules? What’s the secret?) We expect something we can do or work on. We expect that it will be within what we already understand.

                  I think there is a little unexamined assumption that we are already pretty close. After all, we are good people. We do good things. We have nice homes and nice jobs and nice friends. Jess tells the young man to sell all his possessions and give to the poor and he will have treasure in heaven, then come and follow him. The young man leaves sad, because he has many possessions. What are we to do with this? Give up everything? If we can’t, do we go away sad – without reaching eternal life?

                  What is our assumption? More is better? Wealth is better than poverty? Jesus wants us to follow him and have faith in him. Jesus wants us to give up faith in our stuff, in our position, in our possessions. The bible does not ever say that the Lord helps those who help themselves, but it does say that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Jesus is inviting the rich young man and us to let go of the things in which we trust. Jesus is inviting us to let go especially of the thing that we most particularly trust.

                  Do we trust money? Giving money away will certainly help us trust God. Do we trust in our guns to keep us safe? Maybe we need to develop different trust in God and the people around us who protect us. Do we trust in our own strength or cleverness to get us through everything? Maybe we have to be open to what happens outside of our control.

                  We are not off the hook concerning our money. We are rich by the world’s standards (even in Connecticut.) Jesus urged the rich young man to let go of his wealth so that he would be free to follow. We worry about our things and the dangers of the economy. We know that we would be better off if we could only simplify our lives. Nothing works better than getting rid of things. I urge us to simplify – not as a way to fit in even more – but as a way to be more open to the will of God.

                  We seek to find eternal life. Jesus does not show us a place. He shows us a way. He invites us on a journey. He helps us see that completion and perfection is only an illusion. He wants us to bear suffering and loss even as we hold onto our faith. The end we seek is not our glorification but our joy in God’s love.

Saint Francis' Day

                  Kids know the truth. They have a strong sense of what’s right and wrong and what’s fair. A few years ago there was a series of commercials from Ally Bank. In one, there was a businessman who offers a little girl a pony, and he hands her a toy pony. He offers another girl a pony and brings out a real pony. Is that fair? In another commercial, he gives a little boy a big toy truck to play with. After a few minutes he takes it away and gives the boy a little cardboard cut-out to play with. Is that fair? The ad tries to show how Ally Bank has better practices – even a kid knows what’s right.

                  In movies and books, often the hero or heroine is a child. They know what’s going on. The adults are all clueless, or preoccupied with their own problems. This plays on all our fears that we have to find our own way, and it reflects the real need for children to make their way in life. It also reminds us that many adults get lost because they think they know what’s going on. We think we know all the answers. The danger is that we may cut ourselves off from the real truth.

                  You can’t know the truth if you think you already know the truth. We have to admit our ignorance. We have to admit that the world is bigger than we know. We have to be open to learning something new. Learning requires letting go of what is false. We have to admit where we are wrong. This is not popular in our modern media driven age. For politicians, it is impossible to admit wrong. They will either appear weak, or be labeled a “flip-flopper.” Do we really prefer someone who can never admit error and insists on holding a wrong idea?

                  Our need for certainty says more about our fear than our faith. Today we remember St. Francis who was happy to be thought a fool. He preached to the birds because he thought they listened better than people. He gave away everything. He washed lepers. People said he was crazy. Francis never argued with that opinion.

                  We remember him because he knew a truth that we are afraid to embrace. We don’t need stuff. We don’t need more than we have. The simplest animals can teach us what we’ve forgotten. God loves us. God gives us what we need. We are invited to live this same way with each other.

                  It seems an impossible ideal. We know we need food and shelter. We know we need to make our way in the world. We need to collect around us everything we might need in case of emergency or disaster (just look at the rush to prepare for a tropical storm.) What truth are we embracing? Will we continue in the false truth that wealth or guile or fashion will save us? Will we open ourselves to the truth that Jesus will save us?

                  I do not deny that life is often difficult. We must face sickness and hard work. Children grow up in a dangerous world. Guns and drugs are plentiful. We let ourselves get distracted by busy schedules that we can’t seem to trim. Jesus doesn’t promise an end to our troubles. Jesus promises us a different way to live – while bearing our troubles.

                  Jesus offers new life. This is not a vacation from life – but a vocation to a new way to live. We do not escape; we enter more deeply. Jesus calls us to bear a new burden (oh great! More work!) Jesus invites us to re-order our lives.

                  We do not change overnight. Even Francis had to try new things and then try different things. Francis heard God say, “Rebuild my church.” He got all tired and sweaty rebuilding a little neglected chapel stone by stone. Then he realized that God didn’t want him to be a stone mason – God wanted Francis to rebuild the whole church and enliven the people of God. This was a much more difficult calling – and a much better one.

                  God calls us to live into new life and to walk with one another as we discover what that can be. It is easier, in a way, to continue mindlessly doing what we already know how to do (even if it seems to be failing.) Everyone knows that that is foolish. We have to unlearn what we know and discover what we do not know.

                  Francis suggests we observe the world around us. The world of nature and the ways of animals suggest the ways of God. Jesus suggests we listen to children. They know what’s right and wrong. So can we. We are God’s children too.

September 27, 2015

                  The Pope reminded us that on this continent “we are not afraid of foreigners, because many of us were once foreigners ourselves.” In the debate about immigrants we can feel our own fear of strangers or of the unknown or of the dangerous places immigrants come from. We would rather stick to problems we know and what we think we can fix. We see the images of desperate families running for freedom across the fields of Europe. What will happen to them? What could we do?

                  The Pope reminds us that our story is also the story of immigrants. Our mothers and fathers had to make a home in a new place, a new language, surrounded by strangers. Our faith story is also the story of immigrants. The people of Israel were slaves in Egypt. Jesus was a refugee fleeing political persecution. We also hear the story of Esther and a time when her people were refugees in a foreign land.

                  Esther is a queen (one of many) in Persia. Her father, Mordecai is a leader of the Jews in captivity. Haman is one of the king’s officials who hates the Jews and who wants to destroy them. He gets the king to give him authority to kill all the Jews (and the king doesn’t really know what Haman is doing.) Esther bravely seeks to speak to the king. This is a time when women have no right to speak. If she displeases the king he can simply kill her. We hear how Esther asks for her life and the life of her people                  and how she reveals the plan of Haman to destroy them. The story ends with Haman getting what he planned for Mordecai, and the people are saved.

                  In Jewish tradition, this rescue is celebrated on the feast of Purim. While the whole book of Esther is read, people cheer at the name of Mordecai and boo at the name of Haman. People dress up. There is tradition that all men are required to get drunk. People tell stories and they feast on little cookies called hammentasse – Haman hats.

                  Many years ago, I was a chaplain at New England Deaconess hospital in Boston. I was visiting with a Jewish man who was about to have a leg amputated (poor circulation related to diabetes.) As you may know, grief touches grief. Our losses remind us of our other losses. I expected to be helping this man cope with the loss of his leg. Instead, he began to talk about the family he lost in the holocaust. In Poland, he fled into the woods and survived. His parents and brothers and sisters were taken away. The night before his surgery, he was remembering the night he slept in the woods, cold and hungry and alone.

                  In the hospital, a few days later, a few weeks; it was the feast of Purim. Rabbinical students came and read the book of Esther. The man I had met earlier was also there. We had noisemakers to boo and hiss at the name of Haman. We clapped and cheered whenever they named Mordecai. I believe he even had a little Haman hat to eat. My friend had lost his leg, but he had lived with loss before. He was restored with new life, with new family, in a new world. God did not spare him his loss and at the same time God did not abandon him to his loss. God was still with him.

                  We do not proclaim a religion of arrival or of completeness. We are living a story of a journey. We proclaim that God is with us, wherever life takes us. This implies that we live our lives wherever we find ourselves and with whomever we find ourselves.

                  There is no special sect that is just for us and not for the uninitiated or for the impure. There is no reason to protect our faith or to create any barriers. Whenever we cross our arms and judge another, we are really judging ourselves and forgetting who we are and from where we came. I have no right to be here. It is only by God’s blessing that I have attained anything worth being proud of. It is only by the work and care of others that I have made my way in the world.

                  The disciples are worried for Jesus. Someone is casting our demons in his name and he isn’t one of the official disciples. This makes me wonder whom they are protecting. Jesus gives blanket permission, and then he adds his warning. Don’t cause one of these little ones to sin. Don’t quench the faith of the weak. Don’t get in the way – put a stumbling block in the way of someone trying to follow Jesus. We don’t mean to do this. We’re probably unconscious of what we are doing. We make little judgments about what people ought to do – how they should live. We create a little mental list of all the things other people should do to get their lives in order.

                  We don’t know their story. We don’t know their journey. We have no idea what oceans they have crossed or the dangers that they have faced. Perhaps they could teach us a thing or two about faith.

                  So what is most important? We are called to share good news. Sharing requires reciprocity. We give and we receive. We wonder why we have trouble sharing the gospel. Perhaps it is because we have acted so long as if all the answers, and everything we need is right here (and only here.) Maybe what we need is out there. Maybe we need to hear good news shared by strangers.

                  We rejoice that God comes to us in the form of a stranger. We rejoice that God comes to us when we have lost everything. God takes us as we are, broken, confused, and lost. God makes for us a new home and surrounds us with new family and new friends. In this – we are no longer strangers.

September 20, 2015

                  Who is the greatest? What makes one person superior to another? We know we have trouble answering this question if we reflect on how we elect candidates – how we compensate people for their work – how we decide whom to listen to or follow. We hold certain values about wealth and success. Do they match our faith?

                  We hear a sort of old-fashioned wisdom about a “capable” wife. Perhaps we should use another word. “Capable” sounds too thin – like adequate. Rachel Held Evans, (a writer and recent convert to the Episcopal church) translates the word as “excellent” or even “valiant.” Certainly, this woman is an excellent spouse and partner. We must acknowledge that the description is limited by the culture of the time. It also depicts a family of some means as she has servants and buys property. The purpose is not to describe a sort of ultimate goal of women in marriage. It holds up an excellent way of life for us to translate into our experience.

                  I like the translation of a valiant woman. It’s not the specific actions of household arrangements. What is held up is the way that the valiant woman lives her life. (A businesswoman can be valiant, an athlete can be valiant, a writer can be valiant, a new mother can be valiant.) All is done with integrity and done whole-heartedly. All is done as an expression of faith in God and a desire to live out human relationships in the context of divine relationships. This is an example for every one of us in whatever circumstance.

                  This passage can also be seen as a description of following the way of wisdom instead of the way of foolishness. A good life is not lived with perfect theology alone. We live out our faith day by day in the interactions we have with everyone we meet. We live with integrity and love with our partner, with our children, with our neighbors, with our co-workers, clients, customers, bosses, etc. We live with integrity and love with what we say, with what our hands create, with what we write, with how we collaborate, with how we listen, etc. Not just on Sunday – not just when someone is looking – not when we are even conscious of it. The excellent person, the valiant person lives a full and rich life of love-filled interactions that enrich their family and proclaim the life God intends. All of it counts. All of it matters.

                  This is what James writes about. If we live in love, we will have generous hearts. We will give ourselves to others with joy, without worry. When we are full of fear, then we have envy and we become competitive for what we fear are scarce resources. We have forgotten grace of God – the generous outpouring of love that saves us.

                  Competition believes that there is only one winner and everyone else is a loser. Some people say that women in leadership are more collaborative and less competitive. Perhaps we should consider what it might look like if there were no winners and losers but only people working together for what we all need.

                  Jesus tries to teach the disciples about his death and suffering. They do not want to think about it. They are avoiding any talk of change or loss. Right now they are in the inner circle of an exciting movement. They walk next to Jesus. It feels good to be on top. Who wants to think about giving it all up? Instead, they wander off into a philosophical/rabbinic debate about who is the greatest. It sounds a little disturbing (and it is meant to). There is a tradition of thinking about what God values most. We are right to suspect that they were not following a good line of thought.

                  Since they won’t listen to what Jesus wants to tell them, he interrupts their conversation. Who is the greatest? What sort of leader do we want? Who will fix this mess or tell us what we need to hear? We already know the answer. Jesus is right there! Instead Jesus takes a little child and places her in their midst. If you want to be the greatest, you have to be like her.

                  What does he mean? I think my granddaughter is the greatest, but I don’t think that this is what Jesus means. We think of little children and we think of their trust. We think of their playfulness and love. I think Jesus is pointing out the obvious. The little child is not great. The little child is not important (to us, but not in the grand scheme of things.) The little child holds no position, no honor, no claim on us. If we want to be great – we have to seek to be nothing.

                  Little children, when they are not worried or frightened, when they are not hungry of neglected – they enter into a place of trust and play where they are curious and generous and open. They are (in this state) unaware of self and completely immersed into what every context they find themselves.

                  We are to enter into a life of love in the same way. It is more difficult for us. We have bills and worries. We are responsible for others. We have to work at trust. We have to get out of our own way. We have to accept that it is not all up to us. We have to be willing to accept what God gives – especially through other people whom we may not be inclined to trust.

                  It is not a simple formula. It is not a to-do list. We are called to live in such a way that we unconsciously give ourselves away and unconsciously accept what is give back. We do not learn by memorization. We learn by trying to love and failing and trying again. That is our work. That is what may make us great, and we won’t even know when we’ve done it, accept that we will know love.