Incalculable

Sermon for the 13^th Sunday after Pentecost, September 11, 2011

Exodus 14:19-31; Romans 14:1-12 and Matthew 18:21-3

When did you learn to count? (Poll) How old do you think you were? What means were used? Let me submit a reasoned hunch. You learned to "count" long before you think that you did. 

I can remember playing in a sand box at about 3 years of age. Even then I knew which were my trucks and my cars. And if another little boy or girl tried to play with my car or truck without asking permission, LOOK OUT.

Not long after that at maybe age 4 or 5 I started to remember, to track when someone hurt or wronged me in any way: from not picking me on the team when I thought I should be taken, to saying something less than kind about one of my friends or my parents. Sometimes then I would wait for my opportunity to get in a dig back at them. Even in Sunday School, I learned to count the stars on my attendance chart. I kept "counting" in lots of ways.  

Nor do some of these things change. I realize that some people mentally track their good deeds and keep a mental ledger of some sort against their less than good deeds. As long as they are the right side of their self-styled accounting, they think everything is cool with them, with God and with the people that they think matter in their lives. I suspect that we all "count" or "keep track" in some ways.  

And yet to this way of "life", to this way of an eye for an eye, of keeping score in almost every part of life, comes God's Word today, fleshed out in a parable of Jesus.  We might think we know it – but do we encounter ourselves in it? The parable is real. It doesn't deny our reality but instead holds our reality up right in front of our noses. This parable shows us the reality of our own sin, that we miss the mark of God's dream and hope, that we often damage, hurt and perhaps even kill others figuratively. We need to know that there are many consequences to our actions and attitudes.

Did you hear the Amber alert this past week on radio or television? How did you, how are you responding? My anger and my fear got bound together. I prayed and I wished that Kienan could be found, at the very least physically alive.  And if the police catch that man, if indeed he is the one responsible for that little boy's abduction, wow, what do you think they should do with him? Be honest with yourself and with God about your attitude.

Are we honest in and about our own lives, about own thoughts, feelings and interactions with others? They are so often messy – so often less than God calls for among and by us! Let me tell you as a person and as a person who has worked as a pastor for over 30 years, I know this is true.  What is Jesus' parable saying to us as Peter asks Jesus, "How often do I have to forgive, 7 times? When Jesus responds, "70 times 7" we must realize that he is calling us to move beyond any such simplistic understandings of counting when it comes to forgiveness. . . So, I tell you a story.

Clifford is a prairie farmer. He often works with and necessarily moves large equipment. He habitually acts in safe ways. He checks and services all his equipment regularly. When it's time to move anything, whether it's the smallest truck or even 4 wheeler he moves it slowly. And before he moves it, Clifford checks all around it and under it before taking any action. Clifford works hard to provide for his family.

One day Clifford needed to move the tractor in his farm yard, just as he had done hundreds of times before. These tractors are massive pieces of equipment. Their rear tires alone stand more than 6 feet tall. Clifford checked behind, around and under the tractor. Only then did he start to move slowly, backing up. But even as he did so, his 3 year old son, raced out from a quanset. Before Clifford could do anything to stop the tractor his little boy had run into its path. Tragically the little boy was killed instantly.

Can any of us begin to imagine? How does one "count" or forgive then? How would Clifford "count" or begin to forgive? How would his wife or his friends count? Some would say, "It wasn't his fault, it was an accident." There is truth to that. But none of these words change the reality that Clifford and his wife's son died. Nothing could ever change the fact that Clifford was driving the vehicle that was the agent of death for their little boy.

How can they go on? Will they be able to? Will Clifford ever be able to laugh, to dance, to sing again to love, to fully accept himself?

When the fundamental, the primary way that we think, that we live and move and have our being is to keep track, to keep score, to only account blame and responsibility, well then the answer to all those questions is a resounding, deafening, heart wrenching NO! When his son died, if Clifford counts "wrongs" Clifford will have also died in many manners, shapes and forms.

But is that all there is, such counting? Is that all there can be?

Peter asks Jesus if a member of the church sins against me, how often should I (do I have to?) forgive? In response Jesus tells the parable. It's gist is that one of the debtors owes an incalculable debt greater than the debt of the largest nation at the time. This debtor asks for forgiveness from a king. Miraculously the king cancels that debt. But then, just when all the counting has stopped against him, that same debtor, now a free person goes to exact a debt from one who owes him 1/600,000 of what he had owed the king. Even though the king had stopped counting – this man who had been forgiven everything and given new life – wants to keep on counting others' debts, others' sins, others' wrong moves against him. And in doing so, he literally loses his life, his freedom – and the lives and freedom of others too.

How about you? How about me? Are we counting, keeping track? I am not saying that there aren't responsibilities, to care, to be honest, to do our best in terms of our work and keeping our promises. We are called to live ethically. But we need to know that we fall short, especially when it comes to the standards of God: to love God, to love others, and my goodness even to love ourselves, that is to consistently act for the well being of others and ourselves. Does God keep track – keep score and at the very terminus of this life, exact justice with no mercy? God could – God could be only and strictly just.

But God chooses to intervene: to act in mercy and vulnerability in becoming human. In that very divine but human act Jesus seeks to flip such "counting" on its head, offering instead grace,  "Father forgive them for they know not what they do." This prayer is offered on behalf of those who are actually executing, that is murdering him, an innocent person.

For the very love of God people, we need to realize that we are in the parable – that we are the man being forgiven the incalculable debt by God's great and incomprehensible mercy – shown in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. But what will we, what are we doing with this gift of forgiveness?

Will we, are we working at forgiving as we are being forgiven?  Today can be a new day with God, with ourselves and with others.

Or are we choosing, so stubbornly and so death embracingly, to attempt to keep track, to count all those things against us? When we do so we are missing out on new life and freedom! Isn't it  time to give up so much on counting and really reflect on whom we're counting on? Amen.

Living Together?

Texts – Exodus 12:1-14; Romans 13:8-14 and Matthew 18:15-20, September 4, 2011

When I was a boy and even into my teen years I would often hear this saying: "Women- can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em!" Of course such a maxim was offered by men or by wanna be "men". I sometimes have wondered since – if I had grown up around women, would they have uttered some-such similar piece of wisdom: "men – they're so stubborn, pigheaded; but what are you going to do?" I don't know if women would have spoken such things are not.

 

But I do know that there is a profound truth in both such sayings even though they reflect deeply sexist biases and are fraught with severe limitations. The truth of both these sayings is this: We need each other. We need community. We continually need to be in relationships with one another for many, many reasons.

 

Let me illustrate. Firstly, it has been in my relationship with my parents that I have learned primarily not just about love, but to love. There is a huge difference between knowing about something and experiencing something over and over again so that one begins to actually know "it".

 

When I was tiny and even long after that my parents cared for me: by feeding me, cleaning me up, and listening to me. At times they even "redirected" me when I did rebellious things like placing my hand on a burning stove even though I had been warned not to do that. They "redirected" me when I continued on rebellious paths like swallowing one of my father's pills even though I had been told not to do that. The redirection continued even as I was being consumed by a fit of rage in telling my mother to shut up. Such, "redirections" were not the least bit pleasant at the time for any of us. Yet because my parents loved me and wanted the best for me, such corrections were necessary. They wanted me to grow into a person who would be respectful of others, myself and God.

 

So it is, that through my parents I continually learn to love. There are so many positive aspects to that. They followed their son to many different places in his sporting endeavours, to wind-swept wet ball fields, to ice cold hockey rinks indoor and outdoor, and to many, many church events.  Through them I learned the patience of love: when I my teenage years I was convinced that I was so-smart while they were, well, you know, not. They smiled outwardly at my haughtiness and ignorance – but inwardly at the time it had to hurt.

 

And through my parents I also witnessed and experienced first-hand the practice of loving and trusting God. Through thick and thin they worshiped God, kept on praying and giving of their times, talents and possessions. They were there at my graduation, my convocation, and my ordination. They smiled and cried with joy. Never mind the money or the pain that such achievements had  required of them. They were happy for me. I watched, benefited and learned.

 

Through them and many others I learned to trust God. When my mother could no longer work because of injuries sustained through her work, and my dad lost his job because of a large company's downsizing, they kept right on praying, worshiping and even picking bottles to put food on the table. Nor did they stop making their offerings of time, talent and possessions to God.

 

There have also been parishioners who have dared to be honest with me, encourage me, take me in when I was lonely – and provide help to our kids and Martha along the way. What I am trying to say is this: without each other,  these others that God places in our lives – well, where would we be? Historically would we still have fire, the wheel, the theory of relativity, the ability to speak and communicate in so many ways? How would we be able to love, if others didn't first love us? How would we would be able to trust God, if the stories of God's interactions with those who have journeyed before us, hadn't been passed on?

 

It is good to have each other. It is necessary to have each other. But it isn't easy – NO IT SURE ISN'T.  I can remember times when I was so angry at my parents that I could spit. And I remember times when I was so angry at parishioners that if they would have been nearby in a particular moment, I might have slapped them or said strong, strong things which although true, would have surely caused great pain and damage to many. It's only as we live in community that we can be hurt so deeply. Even the country and western music tradition of North America knows this truth. There's no one that can hurt you so much as someone you love.

 

But too often we do: hurt the ones we are called to love. We hurt them unintentionally – with a word, a look, by being forgetful. Sometimes we also hurt the ones we love intentionally – with a word, a look, an action. Then the pain is considerable, occasionally so great that people literally do not survive.

 

Nor are such realities only limited to families and friends, or even congregations or church bodies. True enough these hurting realities are fleshed out far too often in such constellations. But the realities of hurting each other are also fleshed between and among nations: men against women, women against men; socioeconomic and ethnic groups and also differing faith communities warring amongst themselves. Hatred and evil done in the name of God! How we need to change. How we need to be forgiven and forgive. How we need to discover new ways forward.  

 

So what are we to do? See that beyond us, within us, often by the grace of God even through and among us and certainly far before us there is God. God sees our human reality: the amazing stuff and the horrific stuff. God decides to act. God enters into our human reality in Jesus of Nazareth. In and through Jesus' life, death and resurrection God shows us a different way. God's way is not marked nor determined by hatred, death, or vengeance. Jesus' way is a path of honesty, refusing pretence, instead emptying himself through compassion in a vulnerability that reveals a power which at first to human eyes seems so foolish. 

 

Jesus lives, dies and is raised to flesh out God's love for the entire world. Jesus lives, dies and is raised to bring about reconciliation between God and humanity: to birth the hope of reconciliation between us and others, limiting and pointing to the ultimate end of the cycle of death, violence and despair.

 

God knows: we so desperately need this on so many levels.

 

Such reconciliation is not achieved by being "nice". Nor shall we pretend that everything is OK when it isn't. Nor is such reconciliation achieved by our conviction that we are alone are right while everyone else is wrong. Nor is such reconciliation achieved by blaming all injustice on others.  

 

Such reconciliation can only be achieved, as we are opened to the presence, love, holiness and forgiveness of God for ourselves. We need that. This reconciliation then is shared as we honestly firstly face our own faults, foibles and false desires in our attempts to live with and love others.  As we do that, by God's grace, forgiveness and hope shine through us, even if it's through a small crack in our lives. Death and evil's yawning crevice begin to give way to this power of God.

 

Once again we are privileged to reflect upon, to hear and to be embraced by God's act in Jesus Christ. Jesus says, "this is my body given for you, my blood shed, for you. Take, eat and drink.  Share my reconciliation with others". May it be so among us and through us, for Christ's sake, and the sake of the world! Amen. 

The Burning Call

Exodus 3:1-15 (Pentecost 11a) August 28, 2011

 

I remember an acquaintance in university. His name was George. Now George was one tough and demanding dude. He was a linebacker  on the university football team. When George encountered you in the narrow hallways of our dormitory, coming to or from a meal, he would quickly lower himself into a 3 point stance and then race towards you, tackling you. The hallway was narrow. There was no escape. George was both assertive and aggressive.

 

Nevertheless throughout those university years, George  encountered some personal struggles. Attached to our dormitory was a chapel. So it was, that George decided to make a demand of God. George would set up in the chapel to demand that God appear to him.  If God appeared then George would trust God and follow God's guidance through his present struggles.

 

George told me all this very clearly, fully expecting God to appear at his beck and call. So, one night following classes and supper, George made his way to the chapel. He prayed and WAITED AND WAITED AND WAITED. I "ran into" George the next morning.

 

Disconsolately he said, "No God, Tim". Then sadly but not nearly as aggressively as usual he trundled on his way. I was spared his tackle that day.

 

We may chuckle at the simplicity or the audacity of my dorm mate George. But do we ever do anything like that: make demands of God expecting God to show up in some way that would prove something to us or even remove us from the difficulty of trusting God in the present circumstances of our lives?

 

Too often, we humans, creatures of this earth, forget or lose sight of one important reality: God is God and we are the created.

 

One day Moses, that person who wasn't sure where he belonged was out tending sheep. The sheep weren't his. They belonged to his father-in-law, Jethro. On this particular day Moses has wandered far from his regular pasture. Now he is at the foot of a mountain simply minding his own business. But then his curiosity is captured by a particular bush. The bush appears to be on fire but it isn't being consumed. Moses can not help himself. He  walks over to investigate.  In that moment, while Moses is not particularly looking for God or even necessarily thinking about God, God speaks to Moses.  

 

God tells Moses that God pays attention to people – particularly then to the people of Israel who are suffering while being enslaved to the Egyptian pharaoh. God has both seen and heard their affliction. Now Moses is told that God will work to free the Israelites from the oppression of slavery. Moses may have thought that this is very good, even cool. Way to go God! I'm behind you all the way. Perhaps even as one commentator said, "I'm way behind you God!"

 

But God doesn't stop there. God then unveils a specific game plan, a plan that involves Moses commitment in order to free the Israelites. God tells Moses, that Moses is to be the one that God sends to Pharaoh to tell Pharaoh to "let my people go!"

 

But Moses is reluctant. ME?? Are you sure, you want ME? I mean Moses had an outstanding warrant for his arrest back in Egypt. He had murdered an Egyptian. Who knows what would happen to him if he were ever to go back? In addition because Moses had been raised in Pharaoh's court by one of Pharaoh's daughters Moses had no cache with the elders of the Israelites. He seemed to belong to neither the Egyptians or the Israelites. Why would God choose him for this incredibly difficult, seemingly impossible task?

 

But God is not deterred. God is the One who takes the initiative to secure life and freedom for the people of Israel. Make no mistake. God is the One who takes the initiative to secure life and freedom for all, including us! God is the One who makes promises but then keeps them so that all may be blessed.

 

As followers of Jesus we see that God's own Son is born of these very people that Moses is commanded by God to advocate for.

 

So, let me ask you this: is it possible that God calls you to be part of God's work, God's labour of love to bring life and hope to the people of this world, and the entire creation? THINK ABOUT THAT – before you so quickly disregard it.

 

To be sure, you may never have seen a literal burning bush. Nor may we be asked to approach the most politically and militarily powerful person in the world to advocate for the freedom of the voiceless or forgotten. Maybe not, but perhaps. In either case, isn't God still capable of speaking to us in personal ways, of asking us to do things for others to help and deliver them to new life?

 

Honestly, think about these things. What gifts have you been blessed with?

 

What knowledge do you have that can assist or serve others?

 

Are you willing to listen to the voices of others? Are you willing to see the realities of others, rich and poor, of different ethnic or religious backgrounds, including our own? If not , why not? God truly continues to love us and all people and all creation. As Christians we can see this. We are not only to have passion about things and people, but compassion. If we actually see and hear others, how will we act to help them with our time, our talents, our possessions? My university dorm mate George may have had it all wrong about making demands of God, thinking that God would have to act in his time and his way. But George was not wrong in realizing that God is both holy and awesome, that God can most certainly help us and this world.

 

Just as Moses did, we all have our pasts, our limitations, our excuses. Like Moses we too have our fears as to why we of all people are not the people or the persons to do the challenging, exceedingly difficult things that God is working at to free people and creation.  We may not speak particularly well. Others may think that we are foolish if we actually began to act in caring even sacrificial ways for others. We might even wonder ourselves, 'Who are we to act? Surely, there must be someone else, some "expert", someone more knowledgeable or more important than me who can act?

 

Some time ago I spoke personally with a very fine preacher. I asked him about his experience of being called to become a "preacher". He smiled. Then he told me that he resisted becoming a preacher for years. He set out on another career path. In fact, when he was quite young he suffered with a serious speech impediment.  It was so bad that he went for a long time to a speech therapist. He said, "The thought, that I of all people could become a preacher was downright laughable." But eventually he listened to that call to become one of the very finest preachers I have ever heard. Over the years he has served as a personal mentor to a number of Pastors who have become excellent preachers.

 

We must know: our world needs a lot of help. Too many people experience little if any  love or hope. Too few people have experienced giving from others without strings attached. But, we of all people are richly blessed in many ways. We, like Moses, have heard God assure us that God is with us, we are not alone. We, like Moses, have been given much life and not a little faith.

 

God has a dream: that all will know and experience the love of God. God seeks to enlist many in living out, bringing flesh to that dream in various ways:  as unique parents, friends, teachers, worshipers, musicians, athletes, accountants, computer specialists, engineers, geneticists, trades people, friends. All we need to do – and it's a little but big ALL – is to listen for the voice of God , calling and directing us. And then obey, seeing what God might do, yes even through us.

 

Moses really had no idea what his obedience would mean or cost. But here we are today, celebrating the presence and blessing of God – in no small part because Moses reluctantly not only said yes, but then did something about his yes.

 

God is blessing the world. God will bless the world! May we be an active ongoing part of that blessing! Amen.  

Say Who

Pentecost 10a, Matthew 16:13-20, August 21, 2011

At times getting to listen to interactions between Jesus and his earliest followers is very interesting. It's almost like being at the gym, the hair salon or the coffee shop. Today's gospel interaction begins similarly. Jesus looks at his motley group of followers and asks them, "What are others saying about me?"

 

It isn't such a weird thing to ask. Jesus was a Mediterranean person. He lived in a society that was based on honour, shame and reputation. The disciples respond: oh there's lots of speculation, lots of things being said about you. Small wonder, Jesus had been out and about. He had cared for people, physically, emotionally and spiritually. He refused to keep his distance from the "others". He listened, spoke with and touched people in unique ways. Subsequently there scuttle but flying around. The disciples could report. Yah, well some say that you are John the Baptist. An interesting conjecture considering that John the Baptist had been executed by Herod. The disciples continued. Others say that you are Elijah. Another interesting conjecture since Elijah had disappeared from the earth hundreds of years earlier. Finally the disciples shared one other response. Still others say that you are a prophet. Certainly, we have learned by now, prophets come and prophets go.

 

But then Jesus turns this seemingly impersonal, almost gossip session onto its head. Now Jesus asks his disciples, " But who, do you say that I am?" Such a question is ongoing. The tense of the verb, "say", is a sense, an ongoing tense. It literally means: who are you saying in ongoing ways, by your words and deeds, that I am?

 

This is also a question for us. Who are we saying that Jesus is: by the ways we speak and interact,  in that which we place our hope and trust?

 

Nor is this a small or insignificant question! Not at all.

 

We need to know. There are many forces that seek to influence, to shape, to control, define or determine us, both individually and collectively.

 

When someone asks you, "Who are you?" , how do you respond, in both word and thought? Do you define yourselves by your occupation, present or past? If so, is that accurate. Am I only or principally a Pastor? What happens to my identity when I can no longer serve as a Pastor? Was I someone before I became a Pastor?

 

Or do we define ourselves by our primary relationships with those whom we most cherish? Am I then a father, a husband, a friend? What then is the identity of those who have no children? What is the identity of those who don't have a partner? What happens if, God forbid, all my children die before me, or they disown me or refuse to relate to me? And what of my identity should my marriage end or all my current friends terminate their relationships with me?

 

Others might say that the forces that matter in our lives, that define or I would say, "determine" us are THINGS. These things may include: our status in society or the things we own. Are you a home owner?  Do you drive a 97 ford escort or a BMW or Mercedes? Do you ride a bicycle?

 

To such thinking, if these things of ours are expensive we are then "successful", of great worth to others.  Yet, is that who we are? Really – think about that. What happens if I should lose my job, and then my so-called wealth – does my identity, who I am then really change? Many would say or at the very least gravely feel, "Yes". The implication may be that we have then moved  from being "winners" to somehow being "losers". It is then that the forces of our society are beginning to own us, or at the very least control us, so that we feel we must be able to purchase, to consume in order to truly matter and belong in this world.

So, I ask you, what of those who are refugees? What of those who have lost their jobs, or their places of residence in an economy that is up and down? Do they  matter? Are they like those styrofoam containers we used to get our fast food in: only of use for a while, then to be discarded, as so much garbage?

 

In today's Gospel Jesus asks a very important question of his disciples: "Who do you say that I am?" This question continues to have great  import not in the sense of pass, fail or somehow getting it right so that we are on the winning side. That kind of thinking is the way of a society that is opposed to God, who demands that there are only  winners and losers – and that gall darn it, the most important thing is to be on the winning side.

Throughout Matthew's Gospel we have been hearing that in Jesus, God is with us. Can we reflect on this incredible declaration? God in Jesus has drawn near to us – embracing our humanity, seeking to love any and all who are lost. My goodness, aren't we all lost in some manner, shape or form, again and again throughout our lives?

 

So in Jesus, God is Immanuel, with us, and for us. Because of him, it's not ultimately a dog eat dog world – even if it often feels like that. Our feelings aren't all there is . For God is with us, and for us. God is also with and for the others. In responding to Jesus' question (who do you say that I am?) Peter blurts out  that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

 

Reading on, only a few short verses later, Peter doesn't have any idea of what Jesus being the Messiah means. However, we live on the other side of the crucifixion and the resurrection. By God's grace we might be able to glimpse some of what Jesus means, for us and for our world.

 

Jesus enters into our humanity and joins it: not in the hatred, the apathy, the nor the exclusion or the repulsion of others. Rather Jesus joins us to Him, in compassion, concern and action for the reconciliation of human beings and all to God.

 

We have come from God. The entire Old Testament tells us that. Read Psalm 139. But God is also with us. As we read the remainder of Matthew's Gospel and the other Gospels, we are told that we are granted both destination, and direction. We are to be journeying towards God. This is doctrinally correct. We can say it. We have opportunities to so speak. But are we living it? That's the most effective way we have to communicate  to any and all who know us.

 

Are we living as if everything we have and are, is entrusted to us by God, for the well being of others, for the furtherance of this incredible reality: that all are loved by God? Do we realize that no matter what happens in any and all areas of our lives, with family , with friends, at work, at play, in being born, as we are living and as we are dying, that our identity is not something we earn or deserve, or even can hoard, but only receive and live by?

 

Our identity comes from God as a gift. It is underlined, underscored, immersed in our baptism. We are children of God, never only children, but part of a huge household, an oikemene! As such we can live in new ways each day, not captivated into thinking or feeling that it is somehow us against them, instead realizing that we are being forgiven and given new opportunities each day to love and be loved, to share the love and grace of God indiscriminately. Then others too can know and experience that they are loved by God now and forever. They too belong to God as God's daughters and sons.

 

Who are you saying that Jesus is? It is an important question. He is to be the foundation of our life, a foundation that will never leave us alone, abandoned or unguided during the winds and storms of our lives. Our ability to glimpse the amazing truth of who He is, the very Son of God, is in itself an amazing gift, a miracle. Thanks be to God! Amen.  

Cry, baby, Cry!

Pentecost 9a, August 14, 2011 (Matthew 15:10-28 with Romans 11:1-32 in b.g.)

Sometimes when we take the Bible seriously, we are encountered by realities that make us uncomfortable. Have you ever noticed that? Do you really want to "Love your enemies!"? Or, is this comfortable for you, "Do good to those who persecute or harm you!"? Here are some others of Jesus' sayings that stick in our craws:  "You have heard it said, 'do not kill', but I tell you if one has evil in his heart to another he has murdered!" Often times the discomfort Scripture causes us is with ourselves. . .

 

But sometimes the discomfort we experience when reading Scripture arises from the way we see God acting or Jesus speaking. So, it is for me in today's Gospel. Did you hear it?

 

There is a woman, a mother. We are told that she is Canaanite. In some ways that doesn't make sense because by the time of Jesus there were no longer people who referred to themselves as Canaanites. There were Phoenicians living in the cities of Tyre and Sidon but no one who would call themselves a Canaanite. The equivalent would be someone referring to a person of German background as a Kraut or worse yet in a very derogatory way as a Nazi – even if they didn't hold fascist views. I suspect that Matthew's point in referring to the woman in today's Gospel as a Canaanite is to underline and make sure that everyone understands that she wasn't Jewish, that she wasn't of the people of "Israel" – that historically she belonged to a people who had opposed Israel and in some ways God's plans to bless the world through Israel. In other words she was outside the place where Jesus and his disciples live.

 

Matthew also tells us that this woman has a daughter who is tormented by a demon – that is this woman's daughter is not well – somehow, some way her life is not within her own control or in any sense normal. So, this Canaanite woman, this mother comes crying to Jesus. And everything begins to be turned upside down. She cries out loudly, "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David." Some are irritated. But she cries out in hope, with some level of trust that Jesus, this Jew will help her daughter.

 

But the disciples are not impressed. They're convinced that they know who this woman is:  not worthy of Jesus' attention, not capable of being one of them. They tell Jesus to send her away. She is loud – she is bothering us. Let's move on.

 

It's like there are 2 choruses – the larger choir of the supposedly "in" group telling Jesus – "GET RID OF HER". But on the other hand there is a soloist, this woman, crying out, "Lord, help me!"

 

At first Jesus doesn't even respond. As the disciples keep on telling him to get rid of her, he makes what is seen in the text as almost an aside comment, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel". This may well have been the way Jesus understood his mission at that time.

 

But the woman will not wait endlessly. She can't waste the time – at least her daughter can't. So the woman comes, she falls in front of Jesus begging, "Lord, help me!" She is literally in his face or at his knees. Now he speaks to her in ways that do not make me comfortable, in a manner that underlines both his humanity and his cultural rootedness.

 

Jesus speaks: "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." He insinuates that  she as a Canaanite, not an Israelite, is merely a dog – somehow of less value than any Israelite.

 

Now the dialogue becomes even more interesting. The woman neither denies nor argues Jesus' perspective of her. Rather she points to the great mercy of God – the riches of God's grace. She responds, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."

 

In the light of her words, miracles unfold. Jesus acknowledges her faith – not in the sense of a doctrinal confession that is somehow pure or faultless – but in terms of her grasp of her limitations and her recognition of needing God's help. Jesus' mind is changed. Yes, you heard me correctly. Jesus' mind is changed by the trust and the earnestness of this mother's plea directed towards him.

 

Now, Jesus says to her, "Woman"  (no longer Canaanite woman, but just woman), great is your faith. Let it be done for you as you wish." And the woman's daughter is healed.

 

This is  incredible for many reasons, not the least of which is that Jesus tells the woman that her faith is great. This is the only occurrence in Matthew's Gospel where someone is said to have great faith. Usually instead it is, "you of little faith," or "why did you doubt and not believe?" But on this occasion, Jesus acknowledges this woman's great faith.

 

Somehow faith in God, trust in Jesus, that is beyond words or convenience springs up in places, within and among people that we least expect. Thanks be to God! May we also be blessed by the working of the Spirit so that we too may know whom to trust, to put our hope, our very lives upon. That ultimate trust must not, cannot be in ourselves, or in the market, or even in experts, but only in God. Trust someone who is trustworthy – and see where we might be led. Otherwise our trust leads us to grave disappointment!

 

Finally, are we aware of how we ourselves need help? So often when people ask us, "how we are?" without even thinking we mumble words or smile and say, "Just fine!", or "Okay, thanks!" But are we "just fine"?

 

Lastly, what words spring from our mouths as we speak of others?

 

What thoughts come to our minds at work, at play, during times when we are enjoying entertainment? The earlier part of  Gospel for today underlines in no uncertain terms that which disqualifies us from relationship with God and with others is not the outward things we do, such as washing our hands, or making sure we look good in front of others. Instead that which pushes God away is what comes out of the inner parts of our being, our hearts and our minds. SOMETIMES that which comes out of us – is far less than good, far less than God hopes for, even far less than what we could ever be proud of, or hope for.

 

Shall we just try harder then? Or, shall we rationalize all this and just say that I or we are better than lots of other people we know? Or, shall we believe that our behaviour, thoughts and words don't matter because God will just forgive us anyway?

 

Be careful – because God is God. God loves us and all people deeply. Be careful because God is also holy. God has dreams for us that we too would be holy – not as in perfect, or better than others, but as in tune with God's love for all in Jesus Christ.

 

Our truth is that we often miss God's mark, God's hope, God's dream. Consequently we need God's help to create a new heart within us.

 

That Canaanite woman cried out unashamedly, "Lord have mercy on me," in order that her daughter might be helped. Somehow she knew that she could cry out to Jesus. Somehow she hoped that he would help her. And he did!

 

We too can cry out to Jesus for his help in our lives and in the life of this world. Lord, have mercy on us. Forgive our apathy, our hatred, our selfishness. Cure us, deliver us from ourselves, in order that we might be moved to love, to care, to see beyond our own little selves to the rest of the world and your work in it.

 

May we so live – proud but hopeful criers. Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy! Amen.

Sow What?

4^th Sunday after Pentecost, Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23 (with bg Romans 8:1), July 10, 2011

 I learned a ditty when I was a child. I can't remember where or when I learned it. Perhaps you may also know it? (Cue music) Love is something if you give it away, give it away, give it away, love is something if you give it away, you always (or only) end up having more!

 

Did you hear it? Is it true? If you give love – I mean this unconditional care for someone or something else away – and I mean give, not lend – will you end up having more?

 

In Matthew's Gospel Jesus has been doing some amazing things. After his baptism he had been sorely tempted. Then he moved on to help and heal many people, to teach them in essence what it is to be of God, to seek to do God's will. His healing, his touch, his compassion could not be limited nor contained by the laws of the land, nor the status quo of society, politics, the military or religious establishments.

 

But (and this is an important but)there is resistance to Jesus' love, the truth that he shares with people about themselves and himself. Some even want to kill him. Many declare that he is crazy, or a glutton and drunkard. The truth is that very few, even after the amazing things they had witnessed him do, actually trust in or even believe Jesus.

 

It is in this context that Jesus tells today's parable of the sower. Have you ever thought about it? The sower goes out to sow. He or she sows indiscriminately. The seed is broadcast, thrown everywhere. It is like a loving mother or father with their children – they keep loving them no matter what. They care about them, enough to give direction. They care about that child enough to worry. They carry about that child enough to sometimes give them money or trust even beyond their better judgment. Sometimes they even care enough to say no, not to spite them, nor to show them who is in control but to actually care about and for them.

 

There aren't guarantees in such loving. The child may often or even eventually respond with love – to others, even to the parent. Or they may not. The child may go on and do amazing things with and for others, with and for the world. Or the child may end up being a very largely destructive force in the world. Still, the loving parent, keeps on loving unconditionally.

 

Does this make sense? Is such loving, prudent or even effective? Often, no! So, why do it? Why love and give generously of one's self?

 

Although I don't much like this response since it is too often only partial and manipulated to be an escape clause from being reasonable with each other, but in this case I am convinced this response is the right one – BECAUSE.

 

Because that child, those children are the child/children of that mother or father. At our best we work to love our children, in thought, word and deed. At our best...

 

As one who by God's grace attempts to follow Jesus, I need to think about Jesus' parable in my life, in our lives together.  Is it not true that God richly blesses us: with life, physical, emotional and spiritual? Is it not true that God loves we human beings and this world so much that when God sees us time and again destroying and damaging each other – God intervenes, giving us law and direction through the prophets? And yet when that doesn't seem to really be working, is it not true that God Himself/ Herself dares to take on human flesh?

 

God becomes human in a backwards place, in a seemingly insignificant country. Through that person, this Jesus of Nazareth is it not true that God reaches out to love the world, one person at a time, by showering God's very love and concern, God's hopes and dreams on everyone Jesus meets, regardless of whether or not they get it at first or even eventually, including those very people who seek to wrongly kill him and even those who do execute him "under orders"?   

 

Jesus  is killed. He does die – a horrible death. But he does not seek or tell his followers to exact their revenge or to obliterate those who have killed him. Instead Jesus calls his followers to love those other people, to pray for them, to help them.

 

What about us? Do we see the blessings God bestows in the middle of our lives? Do we experience the forgiveness of Jesus, time and again – when we don't even make an instant to thank God for all that God gives us, when we don't take an instant to attempt to understand God's Word, when we cling to things as if they were what mattered most? What of our attitudes when we are filled with anger, hatred or apathy?

 

My goodness – what kind of soil are we, in the light of this parable. ....? I have to confess. Sometimes  even in one day I am the first kinds of soil, over and over again.

 

And yet that sower continues to sow. God continues to set the stars in space. The universe continues to expand. The sun continually shines. The Word and Sacraments continue to be proclaimed and shared. I mean have you ever prayed the Lord's Prayer without thinking or meaning every word? Or have you ever come to receive that precious bread and wine through which, in, with and under Jesus is present – as if those elements were ONLY BREAD AND WINE?

 

Father forgive us!

 

But Father please keep on sowing. Help us to be people who much sooner rather than later bear the fruit  Jesus' kindness, gentleness, patience, humility and unconditional love. For it is in these experiences that we begin to know, not just in our heads, but throughout our being, that there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus! It is in these experiences, the very grace of God, that we begin to realize that such love and forgiveness are truly gifts emanating from God, intended to be given away by us to and through others, again and again and again. In such giving and receiving  is much love and new life.

 

ay it be so with us and through us – with and through the world, for Christ's sake, Amen.

 

Deliverance (Not The 60's movie)

Pentecost 3a, Romans 7:15-25 with Matthew 11:28-30 in the b.g (July 3, 2011)

 I was driving down the road on Thursday night, coming home from the airport. In our car was my wife and our two oldest daughters. We had just picked up our oldest daughter. It was to be a joyous occasion. After all she had come "home" to help all of us celebrate her mother's birthday. As we were driving another vehicle sped past us and then cut us off only to come to a stop a few hundred  yards down the road. Now I have been attempting to work on my anger about such things for years (in fact 41 years) – but seemingly to little avail as I said something about that person which disparaged him and to be quite honest was literal filth coming from my mouth. To say it wasn't nice nor appropriate for any one let alone a Christian would be an incredible understatement.

 

Why do I sometimes do those kinds of things? Have you ever done anything like that? Maybe not necessarily in driving or even necessarily in speaking, but in thinking?

 

I've been reflecting lots on the riot that we had in downtown Vancouver on the 15^th of June.  And I have been wrestling with what compels people to join such acts. I realize that some people came into downtown Vancouver planning to wreak havoc, whatever the outcome of the hockey game. I realize this because they brought with them backpacks that contained propane tanks. Some of them also packed knives. Such reality accounts for an action of the few. They had made conscious decisions to destroy and perhaps even pillage prior to the game. But what about the many others who spontaneously joined in? Young people – hockey fans from the lower mainland. And not only young people but people of all ages, male and female. I have listened to some interviews and heard some people literally say, "I am ashamed and appalled by my actions. I apologize. Yet I did what I did and I cannot explain it." We may scoff. This does not exempt these people from being accountable for their actions. Still, I wonder about the truthfulness of their response, "I cannot explain my actions. I had never done anything like this before. Nor did I plan to do anything like this. But I did it."

 

I also wonder about this: so often even when we human beings attempt to do something that almost everyone would define as being "good" – it can get deflected or turned into something that is less than good. We observe this: as emergency supplies to destinations such as Haiti, or even to New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina end up somewhere else,  too often in the hands of people who are seeking to maximize profits from other people's misfortune.  How can that which is intended to be good become a means or at least a vehicle for the furtherance of evil?

 

In today's 2^nd lesson we are allowed to hear a portion of Paul's letter to the Christians at Rome. Do you remember Paul? Paul was a person who took God seriously, even super seriously. He tithed. He prayer daily. In his earlier life as Saul, he was so concerned that people would know and obey God, that he persecuted them, even to the point of taking part in the killing of others who wouldn't obey or understand God the way that he did. Paul perhaps both in his early life  and his later life – was a zealot.

 

So listen to Paul speak after his humbling experience of being encountered by the risen Christ. Then he begins to realize that he must not hate people or seek to kill them. Now he dedicates his life to sharing the good news of Jesus – in thought, word and deed. Do we hear what he is saying? Listen again briefly. "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but do the very thing I hate. ..." And a few verses further, "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me."

 

For Paul sin is not merely that which I do that I shouldn't do. For Paul sin is a force, a power that is in the world, that continually seeks to get control of our lives. As such this power of sin combats God's love and care for the entire world. Sin is real and mighty. If we are foolish enough only to depend on ourselves, individually or even collectively, sin will control us.  

 

You probably have heard this before. But my goodness, this reality is so counter cultural, so contrary  to what we hear every single day of our lives on the internet, or via television and radio. We are taught to believe and function as if we can do anything by ourselves or together, if we just try harder, if we just suck it up.  When we fail, we are told to just keep on trying. 

 

It is important to note that Paul isn't saying that we aren't responsible or at the very least accountable for our actions. There are consequences of what we do and don't do both with others and with God.

 

But Paul is also saying quite clearly that we cannot overcome this power of Sin by simply trying harder. In fact he calls this power of sin, a BODY OF DEATH.

 

Look around. See that Paul is correct in such an understanding. We live in a world where there is more than enough food produced and available for everyone to not starve. Nevertheless hundreds of thousands of people die from starvation in any 24 hour period. We are also part of  a human history that shows us over and over that violence begets violence. Still we are in love with violence, seemingly compelled to keep manufacturing weapons of so called "deterrence" to protect us. But if we could or would spend even a portion of those funds now dedicated to weapons production on education, or on health care and medical care for our world – everyone could read, more people would live longer and there would be a greater sense of togetherness. The us against them mentality of so many would very likely succumb to the reality of caring about each other.   

 

What are we to do? Just sit back and wait? Do we put in our time hoping that somehow when we die, we will be with God then? Do we even think, well at that some point some others will get their just deserts? Be careful – our ways are not God's ways.

 

Paul points us to a different way: "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" This isn't Paul's way of saying, lay down in the grass, or limit your faith to the church building.

 

Instead this is Paul's way of saying what Jesus commends in the Gospel for today: be joined to Christ – his life, his death and resurrection. Be joined to him (the Gospel translates, yoked) in His way of living. Reach out to others. Listen to and care for them.  Be yoked to Jesus in understanding that our acceptance by God does not depend on us. Thanks be to God. Instead our acceptance by God depends on God's loving, merciful action in Jesus. We can also realize that when and as we are so richly blessed to have communion with God and with others, our actions can and should themselves embody such love and mercy.

 

Is such living possible always and ever now? No – because this body of death that Paul talks about, this power of Sin as he understands and encounters it, is not completely defeated yet. It continues to wage battle against God and God's love and grace in Jesus. There is an already but a not yet reality to this. Someday it will be totally defeated.

 

So that old being within us – that demands me first, without any acknowledgement of God's call and love upon our lives – needs to die daily. That's our journey by the grace of God.

 

There may be times when we do not understand our own actions, when they are reprehensible and horrendous. There are consequences to our actions, both for us and for others. Our actions can affect our relationship with God.  But even then, especially then, the love of Jesus through his life, suffering, death and resurrection reaches out to us. He can deliver us through this body of death to new life, beginning here and now and yes eventually reaching a fruition beyond our understanding, SOMEDAY.

 

May it be so with us and through us, for Christ's sake and for the well being of this world, which God so deeply loves. Amen.