Monday, November 29, 2010

Monday, 1st Week of Advent

Uh oh, Jerusalem is in trouble. “Listen to the LORD, you leaders of ‘Sodom.’ Listen to the law of our God, people of ‘Gomorrah.’” (Isaiah 1:10) The people of Judah, still ruled by the descendants of King David, are being compared to the most wicked cities of the Old Testament, Sodom and Gomorrah, whose destruction is described in Genesis 19.

What links Jerusalem to Sodom? The demand of the Sodomites that they be permitted to rape complete strangers? Yes, but Isaiah widens God’s indictment beyond that one offense. “Wash yourselves and be clean! Get your sins out of my sight. Give up your evil ways. Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows.” (Is 1:17). The great son of the Sodomites was their lack of hospitality to strangers. Sodom was destroyed because of its injustice. Jerusalem risks the same fate because of injustice, Isaiah makes clear.

But alongside divine judgment, comes divine promise. “Come, let us reach an understanding, -- says the LORD. Be your sins like crimson, They can turn snow-white.” (Is 1:18). Increasingly, many liturgical churches are using blue as the color for Advent, instead of purple, which is also used in Lent. Given the association of purple with sin and repentance, many prefer to use a different color to communicate hope.

But Jesus came to a world that was profoundly broken. Is there anyone who doesn’t see the brokenness of our world today? If we want to receive a new birth of Jesus in our hearts and communities, don’t we first have to confront those dark parts of our lives where the light of Christ is needed? Do not fear to shine that light on those dark places. It may hurt a little, but it will also refine and warm your soul, and turn your brokenness snow-white. This is Advent, the “coming” of Christ. Seek the truth of your brokenness, and look for that warming light in the distance.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Christ the King: Last Sunday of the Church Year

It's easy to sympathize with the criminal hanging beside Jesus, and affectionately call him, "The Good Thief." We only see him at the end of his earthly journey. Of course we really don't know if he was the Good Thief. How about we call him the Good Murderer? Because we only see him at the end of his journey, we can only try to imagine him as a soft, fleshy, and helpless baby lying content at his mother's breast. It's much easier to imagine what what vicious crime he might have committed against his helpless victims. We can imagine. But we cannot know.

But let's try to imagine the twists, turns and dark detours that brought the criminal, whom Christian tradition has called Dismas, to the point where we see him today. Perhaps his father died when he was just a child, and unable to support his mother. And then, perhaps, his mother died of an illness. Leaving him an orphan in the world. Perhaps as stronger adults took advantage of him, Dismas learned that there were only two kinds of people in the world: predators and their prey. So, he resolved to be a predator. It would appear that he found a partner. Perhaps they took up robbery. Perhaps Dismas, in his anger, tried to smother any pity as he preyed upon his victims. Perhaps Dismas and his partner waited for their victims on that mountainous road between Jerusalem and Jericho. You know that road. It’s the one where Jesus set his parable of the Good Samaritan.

And today here he is, no doubt despairing over the pain and hurt that was inflicted upon him, and which he inflicted upon others. And today, hanging beside him is one whom the sign above his cross says, "King of the Jews." He suffers the same excruciating pain, the same humiliation. But wait, this man called Jesus is actually enduring more shame and humiliation. First the religious leaders mocked his claim to be the Messiah, the vehicle of God's salvation of the Jews. Then the Roman soldiers dare this so-called king to save himself. Finally his partner in crime is shameless enough to mockingly ask Jesus to save him, as though he deserved to be saved.

But this “criminal” named Dismas has let Jesus' words sink into his broken heart; words uttered from the same place of pain, shame, humiliation and despair: "Father, forgive them. They don't know what they're doing." Nobody else can see the kingly power in those words, except for this crucified criminal. In a world where power is defined by the ability to have your way over people, to overwhem them, Jesus is showing to the world the power of endurance, to endure in faith, hope, and love.

Up until today, Dismas' life has been nothing but a hopeless and futile effort to do it to them before they did it to him. And where has that kind of power led him? But today, at the end, he glimpses a power that might just endure even death. Does that mean that the rest of his life has been a waste, only to be redeemed by this moment today? No. Every unexpected turn in his life, every good decision and every bad decision has by God's grace led him to this day, where he sees the true King of the world beside him.

If this man could bow before this king, he would. But in deference, he doesn’t ask for much. He doesn’t ask to be spared of his fate in this world. All he asks of the King is that when he comes into the fullness of His kingdom, be it tomorrow, next year, or 2,000 years from now, that He not forget about him. What the King promises him is so much more: “Today, you will be with me in Paradise.” Today the Good Thief, or murderer, will know the presence of Jesus beyond physical death.

But what about the Kingdom? When will Jesus come into His kingdom? Are we still having to wait and pray that Jesus remembers us? In one sense, yes, we and Dismas are all waiting for an end to violence and hatred. We and he are waiting for that Kingdom of love and peace to be completed. But in another sense, Christ already reigns supreme, and He reigns as King of the world today. Most of his life, the Good Criminal tried to run as far away from God and God’s goodness as he could. But no matter what he did, God used his choices to lead him to this moment, this opportunity for redemption.

Even when he was rebelling against all that was good, God ruled over his life in spite of himself. Every day of his life was one in which God was directing him to this day. So, every day of his life, this “criminal” was living under the reign of God’s kingdom. And so are we. Every day, when we get up and pray for God’s guidance, and then make the best decisions we can, that day is “today” in the Kingdom of God. Whatever twists and turns our lives take, we are all headed in the same direction that Dismas was heading, and we share in the same destination as the Good Criminal. Someday, Jesus promises us, we will be with Him in Paradise. But today, Sunday, November 21st, Jesus Christ the King of kings rules in our lives.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Daily Office: Thursday, 28th Week of Ordinary Time

I'm reposting an earlier meditation on this reading.

James 4:13-5:6
Morning Prayer

Do the words about the rich in today’s reading shock? They really shouldn’t. One out of every ten verses in the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) deals with the poor and issues of social justice. Jesus talks more about wealth and poverty than heaven and hell or sexual morality. Of course, James devotes even more attention to this subject, with five out of every ten verses devoted to the rich and poor.

The problem is not having much wealth, but a mindset in which having and being are the same. When we become our possessions, they dehumanize both the rich and poor. By withholding the workers’ wages, James argues, you have deprived that person of what the need to survive, and you have, in effect, murdered them, deprived them of life simply because they didn’t have enough to survive. On the other hand, those who have much wealth deceive themselves into thinking they also have much time to “go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit.” Time belongs to God. And to be so blinded by your pile of possessions that you can’t see your lack of control over your life is, in truth a living death of which nothing will be left when you die and all that remains of you are your “possessions.”

Does the church need pledges to pay for its ministry and expenses? Sure, but the main reason for giving something of the wealth given to you is to free yourself from the tyranny of possessions, which only fill your life with anxiety. Instead of seeking more and more “things,” look at the gifts that God has given you; yes your possessions, but also your talents and passion, that which excites you, that makes you want to get up every morning. Instead of asking how to make more money, ask yourself and God how you may make this world a better place. Then trust that whatever you need for that, God will provide.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Do Not Worry: 28th Week of Ordinary Time

The hope in chapter 65 of Isaiah that the wolf would lie with the lamb, and that no one would ever be hurt again, was expressed much earlier in chapter 11. And given the context of these chapters, they were probably written decades apart. Chapter 11 was written when the descendants of King David still ruled in Jerusalem, and the prophet hoped that those kings would be the means by which God would end all violence on the earth. Chapter 65 came after Jerusalem had been conquered, the king and his sons destroyed, and the Jewish people exiled to Babylon.

And yet the same hope of peace and justice endured for some 500 years to the time of Jesus. Indeed his Jewish disciples hoped that through the magnificent Temple, God would act to give Israel freedom and peace with all the nations. But only 30 years later, Roman soldiers would reduce the Temple to a heap of stones, just as Jesus predicted, and carry the chosen people off to another exile. The Romans thought they had created an eternal peace, a Pax Romana; until 400 years later when those German tribes they called Barbarians brought their empire to an end.

And so it goes. There aren't too many Americans left alive who can recall what President Woodrow Wilson hopefully called the War to End All Wars. More Americans can recall for us the war to save the world from the horrors of fascist tyranny. Because we are no longer required to serve our country in a time of war, I wonder if enough Americans understand what today's veterans have given of their bodies and souls in Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom.

So the wars go, on and on. And like His first disciples, we ask Jesus: what are the signs of the end? Will this be the last war? To which our Lord and Savior answers, not yet. Before all this happens, Jesus says, you will be harassed. You will be brought before those in power; religious, political, economic. And then, Jesus says, you'll have them right where you want them. This will be your opportunity to testify.

And then, Jesus says, don't worry about what you're going to say because then you can be sure that the Spirit of God will be speaking through you. Don't worry about getting killed because in the Resurrection of Christ, not a hair on your head will perish. Don't worry because, in a sense, the last war has already been fought and won by Jesus Christ, who has conquered death, and through whom we too conquer death and despair.

Do not worry, veterans, about whether your sacrifice was worthwhile. Jesus' sacrifice on the cross didn't seem worthwhile to those who scoffed at Him and mocked Him. But He trusted that Sunday was coming, and so it was. Do not worry, Christians, about the future of the Church. For as the Roman Catholic bishop Romano Guardini wrote, the Church may too often be the cross on which Christ was crucified. But who could ever separate Christ from His cross. In the power of the Resurrection, not a hair on the Church's head will perish. Do not worry, people of the world who yearn for justice and peace. For beyond the injustices and wars of today, the last word belongs the Word made flesh. And that word is Resurrection. Do not worry.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Resurrection and Dreams: 27th Week of Ordinary Time

Luke 20:27-38

The Sadducees were the political party of the priests. The only place where the Jewish people could worship God directly was in the Temple of Jerusalem. So the Temple was constantly streaming with pilgrims coming to make sacrifices and offerings for blessing, or forgiveness. It took a lot of priests to do the work of slaughtering all the animals to be sacrificed, and of interceding for all those pilgrims. But the Sadducees took their calling very seriously. And they followed the instructions for their priestly duties as laid out in Exodus, Leviticus and Deuteronomy. For after all those three books, along with Genesis and Numbers, had been given to the people of Israel by Moses.

In fact, the Sadducees believed that only those first five books of the Old Testament were binding on the people of Israel. The prophets, the historical books, the books of wisdom, the Psalms – none of those had been given by Moses, and only Moses was authoritative for the Sadducees. And to the point of today’s Gospel reading, there isn’t anything in the first five books of the Old Testament that speaks directly of an afterlife. It is in the later books of the Old Testament, written much closer to the time of Jesus, that you begin to see an explicit affirmation that there is life after physical death. The Pharisees, on the other hand, did take all those other books to be authoritative. And as critical of them as Jesus could be, on this issue they were in agreement.

So, understand, the Sadducees sincerely believed that they had the scriptures on their side when they asserted that this life on earth was God’s one-time gift to you, and you had better use it right. All this is to explain why they were trying to trip Jesus up with their riddle of this one wife and the seven brothers she had to marry, one at a time, so whose wife will she be at the Resurrection, hmmm. But we can thank the Sadducees, for it gives Jesus an opportunity to peel back the veil and tell us something of the Resurrected life.

“Those worthy of being raised from the dead will not marry,” Jesus says, “because they are like angels, children of God and children of the Resurrection.” Particularly if you shared the Sadducees’ belief that there was no afterlife, the one hope of this world that you did have was your children. And they were not just your children. They were also the hope of your father, and his father, and his father before him , and so on back through the generations. “That which we have heard and known, and what our forefathers have told us, we will not hide from their children.” So, the author of Psalm 78 makes it clear that our children are not just ours, but also belong to the fathers and mothers who came before us.

But in the Resurrection, we will no longer have to place the burden of so many generations’ hopes on our children. Our bodies will no longer break down like old cars whose parts eventually wear out from too much use. Just as Jesus’ resurrected body was transformed, so shall ours. Old age shall no longer afflict us. But instead, we will have the fullness of mature youth restored to us. And we shall always be forever young, and will no longer need to pass on our genes to the next generation in the struggle to survive. Jesus has gone before us, through the veil of physical death, but now has a transphysical body, no less physical than our bodies but transformed. And as Jesus has passed through that veil, so shall we all.

There are many whom we love who have passed through that veil. But even for them the afterlife they now have is a time of waiting, just as we wait for that final Resurrection. Their souls have had to leave their bodies, for a time. But that is also true for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And as Jesus says, the Lord God is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And contrary to that famous Time magazine cover from the 1960s, God isn’t dead. And if this living God continues to be alive to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, then they are alive to God. And so are all those faithful souls who stand before the throne of God, and praise God and pray to God for those whom they still love here in this world.

There are several faithful souls in this extended parish family who have gone to that throne since I came here nearly two years ago. I invite you to name them in our prayers later in this service, as well as all those whom we have lost in years past. To find healing from the pain of grief, we must take the time to give expression to our love of those who have died, and our sadness over their passing. Grief unexpressed merely finds expression in other ways. But at the same time, we must not let our grief so overwhelm us that we find ourselves in the same small box as the Sadducees’. Their box was the surface of this visible world. That was all they could see. They couldn’t see the spirit that gives this visible world life, and sometimes breaks through the surface with such beauty as to give us tears of joy and tenderness. Their box was lined with the literal words of the Books of Moses. And they couldn’t see the deeper meaning in God’s word to Moses, “I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.”

The Sadducees could only look back to the time of Moses, and they couldn’t dream of a better future. But imagine all the saints of God, up to the present day, standing before that throne in prayers and praises. Taste the bread and wine by which the Resurrected Jesus enters into our souls and bodies, and imagine that great reunion feast we will all share with the saints who have gone before us. And in that imagination, dream of how God might answer the prayers of the saints, and use us to bring out the true beauty of this world. And may the Resurrected Jesus give power to those dreams.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Remembering Richard Hooker

The day after the election, it is, I believe, "God-incidental" that Richard Hooker is remembered in the Episcopal calendar of saints. He is, without question, the greatest theologian in the Anglican tradition. And the collect for his feast day contains a message that needs to be heard today.

O God of truth and peace, who raised up your servant Richard Hooker in a day of bitter controversy to defend with sound reasoning and great charity the catholic and reformed religion: Grant that we may maintain that middle way, not as a compromise for the sake of peace, but as a comprehension for the sake of truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.