Christmas
2003
Paying
attention: That is what Christmas is all about. All the poetry and symbolism of
Christmas tell of a God who, does not stay in an inaccessible paradise, disconnected
from humanity. The focus on the disclosure of God's love among us is not up in
heaven or away in some far off intellectual sphere, but is active and present
in the commonplace: a birth of a child, to an ordinary couple, under quite modest,
if not humble circumstances. The light of the star of Bethlehem points down to
earth, not up to heaven.
Sunday,
December 21, 2003
By
the fourth Sunday of Advent, it is hard not to think of Joseph and Mary beginning
their journey to Bethlehem. Yet Advent reminds us that neither of them is like
the one-dimensional cutout figures that are so common to the standard issue Christmas
pageant. In the Gospel reading today, Mary goes to visit Elizabeth who is also
pregnant, but several months further along. Elizabeth is older and was almost
past childbearing age when it was revealed to her that she would bear a son. They
greet each other, and then Luke has Mary break into a song of thanksgiving for
the gift of a son.
Sunday,
December 7, 2003
There
two approaches to the understanding of history. The first is to know who held
the power, who controlled the armies, who made the conquests, and who bestowed
the favors, entitlements, and the punishments. It is the history, victors of the
world like to tell of themselves. The second approach to history tends to challenge, if not subvert, the first.
It breaks through the fortresses of power and searches for the sources of visions.
It asks, where are the springboards for dreams, what serves as the impetus for
hope, from what sources do people draw to find meaning. It is the type of history
communicated by prophets and poets. It mocks the presumptions of the age and is
the history that often has the last word. I wonder if, more often than we suspect,
it is through this approach that reveals God working among humanity.
Sunday,
November 30, 2003
Advent
calendars are wonderfully clever yet simple things. You open one small door every
day, and at the end of Advent you have two dozen doors open, all ready to accept
good news. That's the message of Advent. We are all invited to unclog the hard
drive of our senses, to stretch our mind, to empty our agenda, and give our soul
plenty of space to hope. God is coming near. New birth is about to take place.
now is the time to open our gates, to remove obstructions in our way, to clear
a path. Advent is four weeks to prepare our senses, our minds, our souls. Advent,
the season of doors, is often the rediscovery of the mystery of God's presence
that has been among us all the time.
Sunday,
November 23, 2003
This
Sunday is the conclusion of the church's liturgical year. The lessons and hymns
usually look forward to the completion of Jesus' mission and the final reconciliation
among all people. Global peace and harmony is at last permanently established.
The evil powers that corrupt and destroy humanity are decisively conquered for
good. Yet most of the images and metaphors are curiously out of sync with us.
References to kingdoms, royalty and imperial majesty do not imply freedom and
release from sin, but oppression and degradation. While a strong monarchy in a
time long past and in a very different societal structure might have been the
best way to ensure a lasting peace and tranquility over a large area and population,
for us, it implies unrest and a future struggle for liberation. We need a new
and, as yet, unarticulated vocabulary to talk about God's victory over the world's
ills and afflictions.
Sunday,
November 16, 2003
Jesus
didn't predict or encourage us to look for signs signifying the end. Rather Jesus
tells us that during whatever terrible times occur in the present or in the future,
when the earth's very foundations seem to be shaken and in danger of crumbling,
understand that out of all this trauma, come the opportunities for a reformulated
or refocused vision. Note what Jesus’ reply in the Today's Gospel tells
us. Don't believe it when in the midst of profound change and uncertainty, someone
scares you into thinking the end is near. There well may be signs of the end of
various venerable institutions, including religious institutions, but among the
signs of change are the birth pangs of the new age to come.
Sunday,
November 9, 2003
In
today's scriptures the two widows are forever lifted up as examples of courageous
hospitality and loving liberality. Now I want to make it clear, that they did
not give out of guilt, fear, or social pressure. The widow of Zarephath did not
think how history would remember her. She had a faith that God was not going to
trick her and that God respected her dignity. Nor did the widow in the temple
know that Jesus was looking. Yet I suspect she left the temple with a smile on
her face not a grimace. Giving to God made her glad. She knew God smiled upon
her. They both gave out of the love in their hearts. That is really what stewardship,
or pledging, or offering is all about, giving in thanksgiving from the love in
one's heart.
Sunday,
November 2, 2003
The
wonderful gift of history, tradition, and ancientness, is precisely what give
Christians roots, stability, breadth, and depth. It is what gives us a whole spectrum
of options, which so many in contemporary society sadly do not have. For so many
in the world religion is just an individual private affair, just a little small
voice telling one right from wrong. It is not surprising that it is quite common
for people on the street to say something like “I had no other choice, I
had to do this or that.” That’s the tyranny of modern society, a lot
of talk about alternatives but in reality the closing of options and vision is
its dominant characteristic. All Saints tells that little selfish voice inside
us to grow up, or pack up, clear out. In its place, All Saints surrounds us with
the voices that liberate us from the narrow and completely humorlessness of political
correctness and trendy opinions of the moment, cyclones of despair and frustration,
and the narrow whims of our personal experience. All Saints’ opens to us
a flexible and astounding larger life.
Sunday,
October 26, 2003
The
request of Bartimaeus provides ironic contrast to the entreaties of the disciples
of the past weeks. The disciples are close followers of Jesus, who have been with
him for months, if not years. Bartimaeus is an outsider who has never even seen
Jesus. The disciples, characterized by James and John, had wanted Jesus
to increase their own personal power. Their request to be first among Jesus’ close disciples seemed to have been driven by fear of what they might lose. Their
request revealed a selfish and narrow ambition to protect and enhance their influence
with Jesus. Bartimaeus, on the other hand, seemed to have heard that Jesus was
a compassionate rabbi and his mission involved bringing peace and healing to a
war-ravaged land and a wounded people.
Sunday,
October 19, 2003
When
Jesus would arrive in Jerusalem and finally be publicly recognized, James and
John wanted to be there out in front, at Jesus’ side. The other disciples
were indignant, probably not because they knew that the request revealed a profound
misunderstanding of Jesus' message, but because they all wanted to be awarded
the honor of being closest to Jesus' side also. The irony, as all later Christians
know, is that in Jerusalem at the final, climatic hour, it was two thieves who
were on each side of Jesus. That was hardly what James, John, or any of the other
disciples had in mind.
Sunday
October 12, 2003
Sometimes
the Gospel can uncover or let a freedom come into our lives that we had long forgotten
or had never thought possible. I would not claim that being a person of faith
is easy or light these days, but carrying the cross can be a whole lot lighter
than dragging some of the unnoticed, virtually invisible assumptions with which
our society burdens us. There are all those past images and expectations we must
live up to as well as be aware and on guard of all the suspicion and mistrust
on others. When I hear the story of the rich, would-be disciples, I think of Marley’s
ghost in Dickens’ Christmas Carol, light, almost transparent in soul, but
heavily weighed down and bound by money boxes, ledgers and chains of the past.
Sunday,
October 5, 2003
Jesus
knew that, just as in war, truth is the first casualty in broken and adversarial
relationships. Children often become their principal and overlooked victims. Seeking
to gain advantage or to be proven right over another is no way to build or repair
healthy bonds. That is why the most important part of this passage is likely not
the answer that we think Jesus might have given, but very well may be when Jesus
paid attention and took children into his arms. Jesus knew well the heartache
and pain of divorce. He knew that children experienced it keenly. He didn't need
to extensively preach about it. He knew that life's situations were characteristically
messy and complex, and predetermined answers, without regard to circumstances,
could easily be used to obscure, if not frustrate, God's intent. So rather than
arguing, Jesus held a child close to Him.
Sunday,
September 28, 2003
There
is a hint in today's Gospel that John was trying to incur favor with Jesus, vigorously
defending his reputation and protecting his territory by criticizing other rabbis
and their followers who were going around teaching and healing. Yet Jesus did
not praise John, but encouraged a sprit of cooperation and openness. The Gospels
describe Jesus in numerous ways: loving, intense, calm, kind, compassionate, angry,
passionate, confrontational, charismatic, controversial, and resolute. But the
Gospels never describe Jesus as selfish, preoccupied with himself or jealous of
his own authority and defensive about his reputation. Nor does Jesus ever seem
to be ruffled by surprise and interruptions. Jesus was certainly not spineless
nor had a personality of a soggy piece of milk toast, but he practiced a genuine
hospitality and generosity of spirit. He knew that arrogance is inevitably a destructive
force.
Sunday,
September 21, 2003
A
Mideastern folk tale tells of a man who feared his own footprints. So instead
of walking, he took to running. That only increased the number of footprints he
made, so he ran even faster and faster until he dropped of exhaustion. What he
really needed to do was to stop and face his fear. The
stories of Jesus leading His disciples on the final journey to Jerusalem clearly
indicate a rising level of stress. To the disciples, Jesus' predictions of suffering,
humiliation, abandonment and death seem to contradict and negate the good news,
the healing, and the joy Jesus brought to people. The hope of the disciples’ future world seemed to be crashing down before them
Sunday,
September 14, 2003
There
is an old folktale about two farmers who became entangled in a boundary dispute.
Finally after many bitter words and threats, one farmer got a few of his friends
to come at night and move a fence back twenty feet, cutting down and destroying
all the crops the fence had protected. The other farmer in retaliation went out
the following night with a bag of salt and dumped it down into his neighbor's
well. A few days later, the second farmer discovered a salty taste in his well
also, for both wells drew on ground water from the same source.
I'd like to learn the sequel to the story. What do the farmers do now? Do they
recognize that forgiveness and repentance are real possibilities that hold out
hope for the future and are intrinsically necessary for their continued common
existence? Do they now work together in finding a new source of water and redefine
their boundaries recognizing that vindictiveness and revenge ultimately poison
everyone involved.
Sunday,
August 31, 2003
In
today’s Gospel, Jesus and the disciples were not on a canoe trip, but they
were in a sense camping out, going from town to town, and didn’t have the
luxury of observing all the religious customs as a scholar or temple official
in the city. Who knows how the argument started. The point of this story was neither
to perpetuate criticism against a certain group of people nor to denigrate the
practice of piety or customs of cleanliness. Rather Jesus used the fruitless wrangling
to note the Gospel is always challenging us to stay in the current and not be
tempted to slow down or think that if we try to hold at bay the continuing revelation
and understanding of God's Word, that this will protect us from having to face
difficult obstacles.
Sunday,
August 24, 2003
The
world likes to handle controversies and difference of opinion by reaching into
its bag and pulling out targets, pinning them on people, and letting the projectiles
fly. Then the news media like to report on how many bullets have hit their target.
But that is not how the church is called to work things out. We don’t have
targets in our bag. In the church's bag, we pull out a loaf of bread and say come,
let us break bread together. We who are many, are one body and individually are
members one of another. In breaking the bread we discern again and again that
we are part of Christ's body, and we are given strength to endure and to quench
all the flaming arrows sent to wound us.
Sunday,
July 27, 2003
The connections between this morning readings suggest
is that great signs of God’s presence often occur in the context of struggle
and tension. Neither God’s deliverance from Egypt, nor the revelation on
Mt. Sinai, nor any of our journeys as people of faith are cake walks. Be wary
of those who use great signs and miracles as reasons to buy a ticket promising
a path of bliss and guaranteed happiness without stress or adversity. People of
faith expect to encounter storms, and it is in the midst of storms rather than
rosy calms, that the presence of God is perceived. Jesus taught the disciples
to be connoisseurs, to tell the difference between real food and empty calories.
Sunday,
July 20, 2003
Paul's vision of Jesus’ breaking down the wall
of hostility was based on the conditions of his time. Despite its circumstantial
limitations, it serves as an analogy of what people of faith are usually called
to do. The vision of a new humanity, of reconciliation among groups with a long
history of separation, of peace to people far and people near, of a world where
people were no longer regarded suspiciously as strangers and aliens is a noble
vision for our time. We don't have to deal with the food issues that so consumed
the early Christians, but we are called to ask what are the walls of hostility
that separate people today. Does the way we communicate the Gospel create more
or fewer walls? What part of the history of alienation and separation today do
we own up to?
Sunday,
July 13, 2003
Every
baptism reminds us that God calls us into relationship. It is not a relationship
built on the world's definition of success or power; it is built upon God's gift
of goodwill towards humanity. It is based on God's affirmation of the basic dignity
of every human being. As people of faith we witness to one another and the world,
that Gillean whom we will baptize this morning and Clara whom we will baptize
next week are God's gifts. How we nurture, support and share the gifts we are
given, is up to us.
Sunday,
July 6, 2003
The
lesson today serves as an appropriate reflection upon our national life. More
and more, we seem to be a nation divided into special interest groups that eye
one another with suspicion and are in competition for a wider public forum. Yet,
if we think of the adjectives that might describe a healthy society, attributes
like creativity, growth, enthusiasm, hope, joy, celebration and innovation, we
come to realize that such attributes don't flourish well in an atmosphere of jealousy,
cynicism and disdain for one another. When we excessively dwell on feeling sorry
for ourselves because we believe that we have been more hurt or slighted by someone
else or by holding on to a false confidence of security because we have more worldly
goods and firecrackers than someone else, we often become unaware of the fear,
distrust and resentment we let into the air and neglect to ask exactly what does
contribute to strong communities that are open to the future. Hence it becomes
so easy to run down the gifts and resources that are close at hand.
Sunday,
June 15, 2003
Often when we are frustrated and huff and puff with God, I wonder if a major part
of the problem is that we are concentrating our hopes and attention too much on
one thing. Like the harried conductor, we don’t take care to get the whole
story. If we took time to process the many gifts God offers and are available
to us, perhaps a lot of unnecessary effort and worry would be avoided. That’s
what this day reminds us. When we say, “God the Father, God the Son, and
God the Holy Spirit,” we are speaking, of course, in analogies and reminding
one another that God is best perceived in relationship and God’s love has
more than one face and more than one form.
Sunday,
June 8, 2003
The
story of Pentecost would have made an exciting drama. Undoubtedly, there was a
menagerie of sound from people milling about, many of them from distant lands
who had come to Jerusalem for the holidays. Among the crowd were some of Jesus’
followers anxiously looking around to see if anyone was viewing them with suspicion.
This would have been an excellent opportunity to tell visitors about Jesus, but
Jesus’ followers were understandably hesitant. Later
it was reported that a sudden wind had caused the change, but whatever it was,
the story of Jesus suddenly began to be disseminated among the crowd with unbelievable
energy. The disciples were completely transformed and filled with confidence.
Total strangers began to ask, “Who is this Jesus and why are people taking
about him?”
Sunday,
June 1, 2003
The appointment of Matthias, Ascension Day, and climbs up Mount Washington go
together for none really contain the loud splashy thrill of amusement park rides.
Yet, each in its own way had considerable influence in the lives of those who
were there. The workings of the Holy Spirit, more often than not, occur in events
and people who lead us to discover deep slices of reflection among cloud covers
and truly bestow upon us, a sense of awe.
Sunday,
May 25, 2003
Jesus was with his disciples for about three years. Like
all human relationships, there were up moments of exhilaration, down periods of
discouragement and plenty of in-between ambivalent times of confusion and undefined
anxiety. There was the intense final week in Jerusalem and then the astounding
discovery of the resurrection. In
the days following when the risen Jesus appeared to the disciples, he told them
that they were no longer servants, but friends. He reminded them that while a
servant might not know what the master is about, that is not the type of relationship
God wishes to have with us. God wants us to be active participants in making this
world a better place.
Sunday,
May 18, 2003
In this season of graduations, transitions, moving on and vacations pulling us
away, the lessons after Easter are a special gift to us. The body of Christ gives
us the stability of roots. If we can't find God working among us here, it is doubtful
we will quickly find God working anywhere, for the disclosure of God germinates
and takes root where we are. Salad bar spiritual searching is basically running
away, running from the vine and breaking attachment. As Easter fades, the process
of discovering the living Christ within us requires a commitment of remaining
together, of remaining attached to the vine and to each other.
Sunday,
May 11, 2003
A
story from the Christian communities who lived in the Egyptian desert during the
fourth century tells of the soldier who asked a monk, whether God would truly
forgive a real sinner. The monk replied, “If your cloak was torn or an edge
was frayed, would you throw it away?” “Of course not,” replied
the soldier, “I would mend it so that I could wear it and keep warm.”
So the monk said, “If you would care so much for your cloak made of thread,
do you not think that God would care as much for every one of us?” Our language
describing God is often like a torn cloak. It ultimately is imperfect and somewhat
on occasion somewhat ragged. Yet through our words, we can still perceive the
ideal. Words continue to communicate how God is, albeit in an imperfect way.
Sunday, May 4, 2003
The stories
after Easter place a curious emphasis on the public display of Jesus’ hands
and feet. On one hand it is understandable that the places that marked Jesus’
suffering held great interest among the earliest followers. I also suspect that
such attention was paid because it was by Jesus’ hands that he had touched
and healed people; by his arms, Jesus had embraced and comforted them; and by
his feet, he had walked into people’s lives. Nor did Jesus seem to discourage
this curiosity. “Touch me, feel my scars. Let’s have conversation. Have
a meal with me, for I am not a ghost.” The Gospels insist that the risen
Christ is the same Jesus who had suffered and died. To follow the risen Christ
means to follow the one who bore the cross. The resurrection is not a break from
the past, but a continuous weld to the past.
Sunday,
April 27, 2003
There is an old folk tale about the devil who decided
one year to sneak into heaven after Easter by pretending to be the risen Christ.
He dressed up and with great fanfare arrived in front of the gates of heaven. "Lift up your heads, you mighty gates, and let the king of glory enter",
shouted the devil. It was difficult for St. Peter at his post as the gatekeeper
not to become flustered. "Who are you?” St. Peter blurted out without
thinking. "I am the king of Glory, come to claim my throne,” the devil
replied as he stretched his arms wide. That was his mistake. Peter noticed that
there were no scars on the devil's hands. The devil's palms were smooth and clean.
Sunday,
April 20, 2003
Often
we want to linger in the old comfortable places, no matter how unpleasant they
really are. Easter calls us to go forth to meet the risen Jesus, not in the graveyards
of our past, but in new situations. Go into the world this day, knowing that the
Risen Jesus leads us on to unexplored, untested, unmapped territory, beyond even
Lewis' and Clark's wildest imaginations. Yes, it is a bit scary. The resurrection
promises a new heaven, a new earth, and a new life.
Sunday,
April 13, 2003
In
Moslem tradition, there is this ancient legend about Jesus: "One day as Jesus
was walking through a village, some of the inhabitants began throwing insults
at him. But Jesus answered by repeating prayers on their behalf. Later one of
his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, you prayed for those people and wished them
well. Why did you not invoke a curse upon them instead?" And Jesus is said
to have replied, "I could only spend what I had in my purse."
Sunday, April 6, 2003
Thomas
Merton once wrote "the truth that many people don’t understand until
it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer
because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion
to your fear of being hurt." I suspect you could substitute in this piece
of wisdom, many of the concerns that weigh upon us. It is not that any of our
concerns are misplaced or unreal. The world is definitely changing. Rather, the
danger is giving our anxiety over such concerns an ultimate significance that
they do not have, and becoming overwhelmed or bitter.
Sunday,
March 30, 2003
I would not have chosen to mention snakes today if
they were not such a prominent part of today’s readings. I’m glad for
a second look behind this incident in the desert. While we have learned that misfortune
is not necessarily a sign of God’s displeasure, too often we tend to blame
all adversity on outside forces. “It’s not our fault!” is a common
plaint of our society. This ancient story helps to restore a sense of balance
to our lives. We need to ‘fess up and to admit we need healing. We need the
insights and the larger stabilizing presence of the Holy Spirit among us. Trying
to go it alone in today's world often leads to putting ourselves and those we
love in great danger. If we distrust God, it is highly unlikely we will develop
or sustain a deeply committed trust to look out for each other. That is the history
lesson the tribes of ancient Israel pass on to us today.
Sunday,
March 23, 2003
The majority of the Ten Commandments were not about
properly pleasing or worshipping God but about right relationships with one another.
The commandments given at Mount Sinai were the basics. God never intended people
of faith to stay out in the desert, but to travel on and learn more. God had plans
and much more to teach. Hence, generations of prophets and teachers amplified
and built on the foundation the commandments provided.
Sunday,
March 16, 2003
All three of today’s lessons deal with trust and
faith in God’s plan. Abraham was the prime Biblical example of someone who
had exemplary confidence in God. In today’s reading God came to Abraham and
said, I have something wonderful in store for you and Sarah. Even at your late
stage in life, God has a mission for you. I am going to make you and Sarah the
ancestors of a nation. Abraham could have very easily and logically said, Yea,
sure, I’m 99 years old and you are going to do what?” and turned, walked
away, and rejected the whole overture. But that was not Abraham’s way. Instead,
he stopped, bowed, listened, and accepted what God had to say.
Sunday, March 9, 2003
The Bible takes the material world
seriously. The words of Ash Wednesday “...Remember o mortal that you are
dust and to dust you will return” refer back to Genesis, the book of beginnings
and remind us that we, too, are creatures of the earth. We have a certain kinship
with all living things. God offers to make an agreement with humanity: we are
given the ability to exercise stewardship over the earth, but we do so in relationship
with God the creator. To be responsible for this earth and its people is paired
with being responsible and answerable to God.