The Daily Office: 2nd Corinthians 10-12

2nd Corinthians 10:1-18

“Although we live in the world, we don’t fight our battles with human methods. Our weapons that we fight with aren’t human, but instead they are powered by God for the destruction of fortresses. They destroy arguments, and every defense that is raised up to oppose the knowledge of God. They capture every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2nd Cor. 10, 3-5, Common English Bible)

“Although we live in the world, we don’t fight our battles with human methods. Our weapons that we fight with aren’t human, but instead they are powered by God for the destruction of fortresses. They destroy arguments, and every defense that is raised up to oppose the knowledge of God. They capture every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

In the Daily Office this week, we pick up Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians at chapter 10. In chapters 10, 11 and 12, we see Saint Paul at his most “prickly.” Some Christians who don’t approve of Paul’s ministry have come behind Paul into the church that he founded, and undermined his authority. At least that’s how Paul sees it. These three chapters are Paul’s half of an argument that clearly got heated.

In the midst of this argument, Paul reminds us that God is with us, even in the messy arguments that go with life together in Christian community. When we bring our life experiences and the wisdom we’ve gained to the table, we are powered by God to make the best decisions for the building up of God’s kingdom.

Of course, there are two sides to an argument. We can only infer the Corinthians’ side from Paul’s response. But isn’t it interesting that the Corinthians preserved their correspondence with Paul, even the disagreeable parts. This shows that eventually, Paul and the Corinthians were reconciled. It also shows that the Corinthians saw the Word of God in these letters, and that these letters should be preserved for all time.

If we look for God’s presence with us, even in disagreement, then that conversation will be blessed, and so will the reconciliation which comes afterward.

Worth the Worry: 8th Sunday after Epiphany

Matthew 6:24-34

A few weeks ago, I said I was looking forward to the “teaching” season of Epiphany. How much are you all looking forward to Jesus’ teaching after weeks of hearing:

How blessed you are when people persecute you for Jesus’ sake:

How it is better for you to enter the kingdom of heaven with an eye torn out rather than going to Hell with both eyes:

How if someone slaps you on the right cheek, you should offer them your left?

And this Sunday, you might wonder if Jesus is parroting Bobby McFerin: Don’t worry / Be happy. Is that the Gospel? Is it Good News to be told that all your worries are a sign of your insufficient faith? Well, don’t suppose for a second that Jesus never worried. “Father, if it be your will, take this cup from me...And the sweat poured from his brow like drops of blood.”

So Jesus worried. But He knew what was worth worrying about. Two Sundays ago, I said that Jesus understood that sometimes a mental therapist needs to shock her patient with his worst fear in order to dispel it.

Today, Jesus is doing something similar. He says something that makes no sense. It makes no sense not to worry about the necessities of life. That is, unless your eyesight of life’s necessities is too near sighted, unless you spend so much time worrying about the daily concerns of life that you lose focus of those necessities of life that, if you’re not careful, you won’t see until it’s too late. Jesus isn’t saying never to worry. He’s trying to refocus our worry.

Why do we worry? We worry when something we thought had under our control turns out not to be under our control at all. In our constant worry, that which we thought we controlled turns out to have control over us.

“You cannot serve God and Money,” Jesus warns us. That’s Money with an uppercase “M.” Money is not a thing. It is a force in our lives with such power that it might as well be a person with a name. How much of our attention, our effort and our worry do we give to Money? How much energy do we sacrifice to Money to the point of exhaustion, only to not be able to sleep because Money won’t let us?

Or maybe it’s Fame with an uppercase “F” that you think will make you feel like you’re on top of the world. Or maybe it’s Knowledge with an uppercase “K” that you suppose will give you control over those around you if you think you know more about them than they know about you, or can beat them in an argument. Whatever we end up serving rather than God begins as an assertion of control. But in the end, we become slaves of that which we would control.

So what should we worry about? God’s dominion and God’s justice. If we say we believe in one God “the maker of heaven and earth,” then can we follow that through to accepting that God is in control, of us and this world? Can we trust that whatever trouble befalls us today, God will hold our hand as we pass through that trouble?

What we need, more than food, clothing and protection, is to know that our lives have a purpose and meaning which outlives them. Each day has enough trouble for us to take to our heavenly Father in prayer. And the Father of us would rather we come to him with our insecurities than pretending we’re not really afraid.

Go to him in prayer, and start looking at the world through his eyes. You might find your problems are not so large compared to the sufferings of those around you. Of course, you’ll never see as far as God can see. But God has a purpose for each one of us. Our lives have a meaning that may take years for us to understand. But seek his purpose for your life, and along the way you will find that your life has a meaning which makes the worries of today so, so small.

Worst Possible Fear: 6th Sunday after Epiphany

If you’re not shocked by Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel, then the Good News of Jesus Christ has been tamed and domesticated by too much hearing of the same words, Sunday after Sunday. “Whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire…If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away…And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.” Hyperbole? Of course. But don’t call it hyperbole too soon before feeling the fear that you would naturally feel if, at least initially, you took Jesus’ words literally.

Sometimes, the only way for us to be healed of our fear is to take the most catastrophic fears of our hearts, and at least say them to ourselves. Psychologists actually have a name for the problem of obsessing over our worst possible fears: Catastraphizing. To treat this syndrome, counselors advise their patients to write out the worst possible outcome associated with their worry, think about that outcome, and then rate the probability of this event actually happening. Usually, the patient realizes that their worst fear is really not that likely to happen. Sometimes, someone being counseled for this problem is advised to predict the consequences of this worst possible outcome. Quite often, the consequences may not be as bad as one first thought. Or you might find that there are ways with which you could cope with those consequences. The point is that when we face our worst fears, we find that they will not be the death of us.

Two thousand years ago, before there were mental health counselors and psychologists, Jesus Christ the Son of God understood the healing power of facing one’s worst fear. In the facing of those worst fears, we are healed from their power over us. Then we can take the next step of healing, and face the more real fears of our lives, the really deep fears that we dare not speak, even to those closest to us. Psychologists might be able to help us with the fantasies that sometimes paralyze us. But only the forgiving love of Jesus can heal us from the fears of our inadequacy, our failure, and our sin.

“I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.” Who has never been angry? No one of course, so Jesus appears to be saying that “everyone” is liable to judgment and the hell of fire. “Come to terms quickly with your accuser,” Jesus warns us, “lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly, I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.” What hope can there be possibly be for us when emotions, over which we have little control, will get us thrown into prison and fire?

But has anyone ever been thrown into prison for an emotion? Of course not. That is the worst possible outcome, which we can put before us on the table; look at it; consider it, and then dismiss it. With the fear of divine judgment and hellfire now dismissed, we can then face those real emotions: resentment, anger, frustration, regret. And then we can begin to come to terms with whatever has caused us to feel resentful, angry, frustrated, sad or remorseful. And in that coming to terms, we might begin to take the first step of that forgiveness which is the only real cure for our broken hearts.

But what if we really look into the darkness of our hearts? And what if we find that all those painful feelings and memories are so deep that it might seem easier to tear out one’s eye or cut off one’s hand rather than face those deepest fears, resentments, and regrets? Put that on that table in front of you, Jesus says. Look at it, think about it. And then let it sink in that neither the Law of Moses, nor the Good News of Jesus Christ, requires amputation. Sweep that worst possible fear off the table. What is left? Your heart, with all its scars, its anger, its regret and its remorse. What else is left? Jesus Christ, who knows your most secret fears better than you do. He has always known them. And He has been waiting in the darkest part of your heart.

He is waiting there right now, not to condemn you to hellfire, or to cut off that which is most dear to you. He is there in your heart, ready to forgive you, and ready to help you forgive. Mental health counselors can help us dismiss those worst possible fantasies that frighten us. So can Jesus Christ. But only Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, can cure us of those pains of the heart that we fear to reveal, even to ourselves. Only in Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, can we find the forgiveness we need, and the power to forgive. Only in Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, can we find the peace that casts the fear out of our hearts. Be not afraid. God himself, in Jesus Christ, is this close to you. Of what, then, should we be afraid?

How Do You Taste? -- 5th Sunday after Epiphany

In 1630, John Winthrop told the settlers of Massachusetts: “Consider that we shall be as a City upon a Hill, the eyes of all people are upon us; so that if we shall deal falsely with our god in this work we have undertaken and so cause him to withdraw his present help from us, we shall be made a story and a byword through the world.” Ronald Reagan, whose 100th birthday is today, also spoke of America as a shining city; “a tall proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace, a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity, and if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here.”

For Winthrop, the city on a hill is a warning. For Reagan it is a vision of peace and prosperity. By the time I’m finished, I hope you’ll see that for the owner of this phrase, Jesus Christ, it is both, a warning and a blessing. The phrase, “salt of the earth,” has also inspired people in ways that went a little beyond what Jesus originally meant. When I spoke at my father’s funeral, I referred to him as the salt of the earth – humble, unpretentious, and just good. I also confessed that his language was certainly, uh, salty. But again, what does the source of these images mean by them?

First, today’s portion of Matthew’s Gospel comes right after the words we heard in last week’s Gospel reading: “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” In any Bible we have today, Jesus’ “salt of the earth” analogy begins a new paragraph. But there are no paragraphs in the original Greek text of Matthew. So hear Jesus tell you today: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?”

To be salt, to be a light, is to be slandered, reviled, persecuted. But that’s not the end of the story. That virulent opposition has a purpose. Slander and persecution are not the end of the Christian life. Our enduring purpose as Christians is to be salt. How are we salt? Well, salt has over 14,000 known uses. It was so valuable in Jesus’s time that Roman soldiers took part of their wages in salt, not coins. In the week ahead, I invite you to think of all the things that salt can do, and then think about what you can be for the people around you.

Of course, Jesus refers to one use of salt when he warns us, “if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?” How can salt lose its taste? By itself, it can’t. Salt doesn’t spoil. And we who have been marked as Christ’s own forever in baptism can’t be spoiled. But if I pour a teaspoon of salt into a gallon of sand, the salt will be lost. No one will then be able to taste us who have been marked as Christ’s own forever. To be the salt of the earth is to stand out, sometimes in opposition to what we season. But to be the salt of the earth is also to make good and joyful that which is bland, lifeless. Who needs to taste you? Who needs to taste your joy, or your opposition. And who needs to taste us, the Body of Christ?

By its nature, light stands out. It is exposed for all to see. And if we are the light of the world, we must shine for all to see. Is it our purpose to shine the light of truth on a sinful world? Is it to give warmth to the suffering? Is it both? Whether we see ourselves as salt or as light, there seems to be a tension between conflict and support. We must stand out from what we season, even be in opposition to what we season. But we must be tasty to those who need to feed from us. We must let our light shine on the wrongs of the world. But our light can also give warmth.

So, how do we be the salt that people need to season their lives? How do we be the light that gives truth and warmth to those around us? Listen again to our Savior: “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” When you’re out there beyond the walls of the church, remember that when people see you who call yourself, “Christian,” they will be seeing whatever God you worship. What sort of God is that you give glory to? That is the God whom those around you will see.

For some, God may be the angry judge who is more concerned with who’s in or out of heaven. For others, God may be the indulgent Daddy who forgives everything. Each of us needs to understand the God our parents taught us to worship, and the God we learned to worship on our own. So what kind of God will you who are the salt of the earth feed to the people around you? What kind of God will you who are the light of the world reveal to the people around you. Ask yourself every day: How can I stand out as salt, how can I stand out as light, in such a way that it’s not about me, but that they may give glory to our Father who is in heaven?

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. Let us season each other. Let us warm each other. Then let the world taste the goodness of God in us. Then let the world be warmed and purified by the light that shines from each of us.

Feast of the Presentation

According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, it’s not a coincidence that Groundhog Day and the Feast of the Presentation (or Candlemas) fall on the same day. On February 2, we are halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. The ancient Celtic peoples of Europe celebrated this day with festivals of candles. Anticipating the planting of crops, it was important to know if spring would be early or late. If the sun was shining bright enough on the morning of the 2nd, so that a badger could see it, that was a sign of spring. When European settlers arrived here, they looked for native animal to make the forecast. (By the way, Punxsutawney Phil says that spring will come early.)

As the Church came on the scene, they took this celebration of light and applied it to the Presentation of the baby Jesus in the Temple at Jerusalem. As Luke tells the story, the old prophet Simeon recognized the Messiah in this infant, and sang of the child as a “light to lighten the Gentiles.” The old prophetess Anna also recognized the Messiah and proclaimed it to all who were there.

Here is a story to warm the heart with the light of hope. Of course, Joseph and Mary were there to fulfill the Law, that every firstborn child was to be sacrificed to the LORD; for the LORD had required the lives of Egypt’s firstborn when the Israelites were enslaved there. The LORD had freed them, so now the children of Israel were required to make the same sacrifice. Except that under the Law of Moses, a lamb or dove were to be offered in the child’s place. It is that sacrifice that Simeon alludes to when he warns Mary, “This boy is assigned to be the cause of the falling and rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that generates opposition so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your innermost being too. ”

Light gives warmth. It can also burn. Light gives guidance on our dark journey. It also purifies, like a kiln purifies clay. Sometimes, we need the light to console us, and to guide us. Sometimes we need that light to purify us. But we need never fear that light. One of my favorite lines from the Episcopal Hymnal reassures us on this feast of Light and Presentation: “When through fiery trials thy pathways shall lie, My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply; The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.”

Whatever need you have of the Light this day, trust it.