Good Friday Homily April 18, 2014 - Second Word from the Cross

One of the criminals hanging there also insulted Jesus by saying, “Aren’t you the Messiah?  Save yourself and save us!”  But the other criminal told the first one off, “Don’t you fear God?  Aren’t you getting the same punishment as this man?  We got what was coming to us, but he didn’t do anything wrong.”  Then he said to Jesus, “Remember me when you come into power” Jesus replied, “I promise that today you will be with me in paradise.”  Luke 23:39-43

Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker Movement in the 1930’s said, “The Gospel takes away our right forever, to discriminate between the deserving and the undeserving poor.”

The Catholic Worker published a newspaper, established houses of hospitality in inner cities, and farms in the country where people from all walks lived together in community, where the poor were fed, clothed and sheltered and people envisioned a new way of being in the world.  She said of the movement:

“What we would like to do is change the world--make it a little simpler for people to feed, clothe, and shelter themselves as God intended them to do. And, by fighting for better conditions, by crying out unceasingly for the rights of the workers, the poor, of the destitute—the rights of the worthy and the unworthy poor, in other words—we can, to a certain extent, change the world; we can work for the oasis, the little cell of joy and peace in a harried world. We can throw our pebble in the pond and be confident that its ever widening circle will reach around the world. We repeat, there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend.”

“The Gospel takes away our right forever to discriminate between the deserving and the undeserving poor.” This truth is most powerfully illustrated here in this passage, as Jesus speaks to the two criminals from the cross.  One mocking Jesus, the other believing that they are getting what they deserve and so in awe of Christ.  “We’re getting what’s coming to us, but Jesus has done nothing wrong.”  It is to this criminal, who in the eyes of the powers that be deserves death, that Jesus promises a place in paradise alongside of him.  But we cannot look at this passage and imagine that the mocking criminal was any less loved by Jesus than the one who petitioned him.  Jesus died for all whether they repent or not, whether they know what they are doing or not, while they were yet sinners.  And we suddenly find ourselves in the same boat with these men.  There is no separation between us and them, between the righteous and the unrighteous.  We are all the undeserving poor.

Love is not something that is earned, it is freely given to all.  And it is this radical hospitality—this unconditional welcome that Jesus offers to the criminal—that transforms each individual and ultimately the whole world. 

Even though we imagine that there are all sorts of other things we can do to gauge people’s real repentance, all sorts of ways to evaluate progress, to measure outcomes in people’s lives, to get people to do stuff we want them to do, to judge whether some are worthier than others to receive our attention—all we really have to offer is the same thing that Jesus offered this criminal.  Welcome.  A radical welcome that discriminates against no one, that freely offers even to the most “undeserving” a place in paradise.

As Dorothy Day says, “there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend.”  To love even our enemy, to love not just the one who is kind to us, but the one also who mocks us, who abuses us, hurts us greatly, the one who disregards all of our good intentions and good deeds, who mocks our own sacrificial acts.

In so doing we will not just be welcoming people into a heavenly paradise after death, but with our own radical hospitality, again as Dorothy Day says, we will be creating “an oasis, a little cell of joy and peace in this harried world.”  A sign here and now of the hope of the resurrection and the Kingdom of God to come.  This is what it means to be the church, to be a community of faithful following the example of Jesus.  And with each small act of kindness, each loving response we offer indiscriminately to everyone, we throw our own pebble in the pond and we can be confident that its ever widening circle will reach around the world.

Good Friday Homily, April 18, 2014 - Fourth Word from the Cross

 

 

At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.  And about that time, Jesus shouted, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachtani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.”  Someone tried to give him something to drink and then said “Now leave him alone.  Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down.”  (Mark 15:33-36)

Elijah has long had a place in Jewish spirituality and practice as heralding the coming of the Messiah.  According to scripture Elijah did not die, but rather ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot about 700 years before Christ.  And so he is a living presence throughout Jewish history occasionally appearing to rescue people from danger and reveal secrets of the Torah.  He visits every bris (the ceremony of circumcision) and at every Passover, the door is open, a place at the table set with an empty chair, and a cup of wine is poured for Elijah.

Elijah represents the ever present protection, salvation and presence of God, and so though it seems like the crowd has misunderstood Jesus’ cry, “Eloi, Eloi” as a call for Elijah, Elijah is also the one who comes at the darkness hour, just as this day was, when the sky was black at noon.  So it is Elijah the people think of at this moment when it seems that all is lost.

The Jewish people throughout their history have known the reality of exile, of abandonment, of being forsaken by God.  Night by Elie Wiesel describes his experience as a young boy in the concentration camps of the Holocaust. It is a night, a time of deep darkness, of abandonment, in which his God dies at the hands of Nazi’s as surely as all the millions of human beings who also lost their lives.

And yet he begins his Nobel Prize acceptance speech many years later, by giving thanks to our common Creator, as, he says, Jewish tradition commands us to do. “Barukh shehekhyanu vekiymanu vehigianu lazman haze.”  “Blessed be Thou for having sustained us until this day.”  For Elie Weisel the reality of suffering in this life has meant his own dedication to stand in solidarity with all who suffer injustice throughout the world.  He ends his speech by giving thanks also to his younger self saying, “I express my deepest gratitude as one who has emerged from the Kingdom of Night.  We know that every moment is a moment of grace, every hour an offering, not to share them would mean to betray them.  Our lives no longer belong to us alone, they belong to all those who need us desperately.”

St John of the Cross, 16^th Century Spanish mystic and poet, speaks of the Spiritual Path as the Dark Night of the Soul.  This is not a path for the faint hearted.  All of us have experienced periods of pain and sadness, times of great grief as well as times of spiritual dryness, desert times when we cannot feel the presence of God.

But I think for Elie Wiesel and St John of the Cross, this Dark Night is not just a temporary passing time in our lives, it speaks of something fundamental about what it means to be a human being.  We are finite, limited creatures who suffer and die, for whom God always remains a mystery, hidden in a cloud of unknowing, as another mystic once put it, and suffering is never something that can be explained.  Life cannot be comprehended, rather it must be loved.

And in this love we always keep hoping. This too is essentially human.  We keep opening the door for Elijah, waiting for him to appear.  And even when he did not come to rescue Jesus from the cross, even though Jesus died after his own pitiful cry of forsakenness—even though this suffering of Christ is a sharing in the suffering of all of humanity, as we were reminded when we began this Holy Lent, that we are but dust and to dust we shall return—even though we walk through the valley of shadow and death and darkness covers the land—even so we fear no evil.

 

We say as we are commanded to say, as we are called to say, as we are made to say by our Creator, “Blessed are You Lord God King of the Universe for sustaining us unto this day.”  Thank you for placing in our hearts a love and a hope that cannot die, no matter what.  Even now as we go from this dark Friday to keep vigil with our Lord who is laid in a tomb, so we stand in solidarity with all who suffer and we await the morning of the third day.

 

Sermon 9.15.13

Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
Psalm 14
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10                                        

Our old testament passage today is very dark!  Jeremiah presents us with a devastating apocalyptic vision of what is to come for God's people.  A hot wind too strong for winnowing or cleansing, that will bring destruction.  A time of judgement.  The prophet has God saying, "My people are foolish, stupid children with no understanding, skilled at doing evil, but do not know how to do good."  The whole earth is of wasteland, a desolation, the cities are in ruin.  A land of darkness, earthquakes, the birds have fled and the once fruitful land turned to a desert.  All brought about by the fierce anger of God.

The Psalm continues this theme of the foolish who say in their hearts, "There is no God."  The Psalmist laments, there is none who does any good and depicts The Lord, looking down from heaven upon us all searching for just one person who might be wise, who might follow after God, but there is no one who does good, no not one.

When I hear language like this, so dark and pessimistic, when folks start talking like this, in such stark absolutes about how horrible everything is I want to say to them, "Its time to take a break!  Get some rest!  Get some perspective!"

I think immediately of burn out.  Burn out, Compassion Fatigue, these are real conditions that effect especially us who are faithful people, who really do want to help make the world a better place, who have a vision of how the world could be and yet are constantly bombarded with the reality of how we all fall so short of this vision.

It is amazing how negative we can so quickly turn, when our frustration level gets too high, when all of our efforts seem to be of no avail.  When we have just become too tired to continue on and yet we keep pushing ourselves out of sense of duty.  How quickly we begin to feel overwhelmed by all the problems we can't fix, all the ways we have no control over how things are going.   We begin to feel all alone, the only one left.  We know we can't do it on our own, yet we push on, feeling so isolated.  We begin to focus on all the things that are going wrong, on all the people who are really just in the way.  Those we started out hoping to help and comfort and heal turn into people we blame.  All those companions on the way who shared the vision with us become people we criticize and complain about.

Then we start to say things that really are just not true.  We make these sweeping negative generalizations about the whole world.  We say silly things really that we really do believe like the words of the Psalmist spoken out his own deep depression.  "No one does good.  Everyone is evil.  All are corrupt.  No one is wise.  No body has any faith."

When the reality is it is we who have lost our faith.  We who have lost hope.  We who have allowed our exhaustion to color the way we see the world.  If we are honest with ourselves we all can recall moments when we have let our own exhaustion turn our thoughts negative.  Maybe we have apologized when we snapped at our spouses or children, saying, "Forgive me, I am just really tired."  We have all watched the quality of our communities deteriorate when the pressure gets too high.  Committee meetings turn ugly, bickering increases, hurtful things are said, often because we have all just been working too hard for too long to try to solve some problem that seems to just go on and on.  And we are exhausted.  And yet we continue to try to push through!

If you are tired, what really is the only solution for this?  Rest.  Sometimes it is just sleep!  There is really nothing like a good night's sleep!  Sleep can really do wonders!  Our spiritual and emotional lives really are all wrapped up in our physical bodies.  Doing something completely different, taking a break, recreation.  The word is re-creation.  We really can rejuvenate ourselves, re-create ourselves by taking a break, letting go, quit beating our heads against a wall.  Often just by stopping doing that one thing that is killing us, we get a whole new perspective on our lives.  Peace only comes when we actually can stop.

Ultimately the spiritual peace that we seek for ourselves and the world is not something we attain for ourselves.  We know the doctrine perhaps, that we are saved by faith alone, not by works, but we really live our lives, practically speaking, like it all depends on us.  If we weren't doing what we do, the world would fall apart.

Paul's letter to Timothy says something completely different.  Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.  Paul gives the example, of himself, a saved sinner, and his story is not about his own righteousness, his own model character, which others should follow.  No, his story is an example of what the power of God can do.  Paul begins with his gratitude to Jesus who strengthens him.  He is clear that he was a blasphemer, a persecutor, a man of violence, but rather than dwelling here, he talks of the mercy he has received in his own life and relies instead upon the way that God in Christ defines him, a faithful servant.  He talks about the grace and love of Christ that has come into his life.  He talks about the utmost patience that Jesus Christ has displayed in working with him, the foremost of sinners.  This patience is that constant vision that though we may all too well know the negative about ourselves and the world, Jesus is constantly seeing us and calling us into the vision he has for us, modeling and shaping us into the Good and Faithful Servants he already knows we are.  This is the power of God working in us.

In our gospel today the righteous religious leaders of the day complain about Jesus saying, He welcomes sinners and eats with them."  They don't seem to understand why Jesus is so concerned with this unsavory bunch, these outcasts, the rabble, the unclean, those outside the pale of civilized society.  It seems in this passage, quite the opposite of the Jeremiah passage, that the perception here is that most people seem to be doing just fine.  We might say they are living in denial, in their own sense of their own righteousness perhaps.

Jesus, though, tells a parable about sheep, and the first thing to notice is that most of the sheep really are doing just fine.  In this parable 99% of the world is actually ok.  Well enough, actually, that the shepherd can leave them unattended and go off in search of that 1% of the flock that is lost.  He leaves the 99 and goes after the one that is lost.  In fact, all the attention is paid to this one lost soul, really disregarding all the rest.  Quite the opposite of the vision in Jeremiah with its focus on all the evil of everyone.  Here the emphasis is on the few that are left out of the blessing of creation, that are on the edge, lost and separated from the rest of the flock.  The concern is for the safety of these lost ones and the desire is to reunite them with the rest of the flock where they too can share in the good pasture, drink from the stream also, and be cared and tended for by the shepherd - where they too can bask in the blessing of creation.

And where they can join in on the cosmic celebration that will take place upon their return. For there will be more joy in heaven over one repentant sinner, than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance.

And so we can see ourselves and the world in a couple different ways.  We can catch the glimpse that Jesus offers us of all people in heaven and on earth sharing in the blessing of God's creation and joining in together in a cosmic celebration.  In this vision it is just unthinkable that anyone should be left out, and we will do all we can to make sure that all are included, and we will rejoice when we see our own communities mirror this ultimate heavenly inclusive vision.

Or we can see the whole world as a dark and desolate and lonely place described in Jeremiah.  If you are seeing the world this way, perhaps it is you that are lost.  Perhaps you have found yourself left out of blessing, far away from the good pasture, perhaps you feel all alone and see no one who can be your companion on the way.  The lost are not just those other folks out there on the fringe, who we have to go find.  Sometimes the lost are ourselves as well. Sometimes it is we who are wondering exhausted in a wilderness and it is we who need to find rest again in the shepherds arms.  It is we who need to be laid upon his shoulders and carried for awhile while he rejoices in finding us.

One of my favorite songs is called "Jubilee" by Mary Chapin Carpenter.  It is the story of a young man, lost himself, who struggles to accept the community of people who love him.  He has a hard time seeing how much he needs the rest that is being offered to him.  Trouble seeing how much he really wants the company of his friends who love him.  Trouble grasping what a wonderful incredible joyful time he will have when he finally joins the celebration.  He is so use to the "home" he has in his isolation and depression that it is hard to see what is being offered to him.   The song ends like this:

And I can tell by the way you're standing
With your eyes filling with tears
That it's habit alone keeps you turning for home
Even though your home is right here

Where the people who love you are gathered
Under the wise wishing tree
May we all be considered then straight on delivered
Down to the jubilee

'Cause the people who love you are waiting
And they'll wait just as long as need be

The people who love you are waiting, Jesus is waiting, the whole of heaven and earth in all it goodness and beauty and splendor, all its incredible blessing, is waiting.  Take some time to rest from your weariness.  Join in the party!  Once again receive the strength and power to share the good news that all that are lost are invited to come home.

Beginning of a New Era (Sermon Christmas Eve 2012)

I just returned today from Guatemala.  I was in Guatemala for the celebration of the end of the 13th B'ktun of the Mayan Long Calendar and the beginning of a new era.  Now the Mayan's never said that world was going to end on Dec 21, 2012.  That is just the end of one of their measurements of time - each B'ktun is 144,000 days, or roughly 400 years - and the beginning of a new one.  Mayan sense of time is cyclical or perhaps like a spiral and it is not about projecting an end at all, but rather imagining a repetitive cycle of mythic themes, that imbue ordinary time and place with a connection to eternal spirit.

Mayan people today, in fact much of the government publicity in Guatemala around the B'ktun, speak about the beginning of a new era.  Big banners in the Park in Xela where I was, announced the Beginning of a New Dawn for the Mayan people, the beginning of a new era which we would all join in together.  This hope and expectation has to be understood in the context and reality of Guatemala.

In 1996, with the signing of a peace treaty, Guatemala emerged from a 36 year bloody civil war in which an estimated 200,000 poor and indigenous people were killed or disappeared by a series of repressive military regimes backed by our own US government.  The peace treaty included such things as return of indigenous lands, respect and protection of indigenous spiritual practices and culture. Many of these things are still in process of being incorporated into Guatemalan law.  It is hard for many to have hope, but it would be nice, after so many years of war, that a new era of peace and justice would be dawning, a new time would be coming forth in which the rights of indigenous people would truly be respected.

Such was the message of Mayan speakers during the celebrations I attended. There were calls to end the discrimination against indigenous people, which is still rampant.  People spoke of their desire to work together with all, indigenous and non-indigenous for a new Guatemala.

Similar was the situation and hope of many in Israel in the first century after years of repression by the Roman government.  There was a sense then also of the fullness of time, as many deep hopes for liberation began to coalesce.  Early Christians saw themselves as the first fruits of this new kind of community.  It was the mutual love that they shared with one another that caught the attention of so many in those days.  This hope was repeated in the message the angels proclaimed upon the birth of the little child, "Peace on Earth and Good Will toward All."  It was the same hope echoed in the Song of Mary, a time when the rich would be humbled and the poor would be exalted.  It is the dream of a time in which we would have the strength and power to find a new way to live together.  All of this hope is still wrapped up in the birth of this child tonight.

During my time in Guatemala, I had the chance to listen to Javier who spoke of growing up in Nicaragua in the 70's and becoming a Pentecostal pastor during the revolution there.  He was confronted by the same reality of poverty, injustice and oppression in his country and rereading the story of the Exodus, he became convinced that the gospel was about the liberation of the poor.  He took up the cause of the revolution, joining in the mass protests that, along with the armed rebellion, led to the end of the repressive Bautista government.  He was forced underground because of his convictions.  Many there were also being killed and disappeared just for being poor or helping the poor.  He is the first to speak of the imperfection of worldly governments and of the power that corrupts, yet nevertheless he remains convinced that the work of Christianity is about modeling that Just and Peaceful Kingdom of God which is our hope.

Javier attends San Marcos Episcopal Church in Xela.  The Episcopal Church is a very small slice of the pie in Guatemala and few I talked to had ever heard of it.  It is small but vibrant faith community.  The small chapel was packed the Sunday I attended.  They operate a daily meal program for seniors, and they have a strong ministry with the LGBT community in Xela.  They also do a English speaking service for the international community there.

In the evening we did a posada with folks from the church reenacting Mary and Joseph's search for a place to stay on this night.  I always thought that this was a Mexican tradition, but I was assured by folks at the church that the posada had its origin in Guatemala.  And in fact it is a wide spread practice.   On the way to the church's posada we passed several processions of people caring candles each with a couple dressed as Mary and Joseph.  Our procession ended up in the home of one of the parishioners.  At first the traditional song sung at the porch has the homeowner denying entry then finally they get to come in with the song  Enter Holy Pilgrims, Entre Santos Pereginos.  Inside we were treated to a big party.  They did this for nine nights straight ending up at the church on the last night before the Noche Buena, Christmas Eve, tonight.  A lot of partying. I only made it to one posada.  With the posada the church reenacts one of the central themes that informs all of its work, welcoming the stranger, the other, welcoming all into a new home that has enough room for everyone.

Being in Guatemala again at this time, I was reminded that there are many ways to approach this story.  The bible has been used both to justify oppression as well as proclaim the good news of liberation.  An article I read while there speaks of four ways of approaching the bible and Christianity that have been at play in Central America.

The first reading comes from the church aligned with the conquistadors.  This 500 year history of oppression is very much a real and present reality in Latin America as it is on reservations here in North America though obviously much more hidden from the awareness of many us.  Just one quote from Hernan Cortez will give you an idea: "We carried the flag of the Cross and fought for our faith ... God gave us so much victory that we killed many people ..."

Rios Montt, one of the many military dictators in Guatemala's recent history, now on trial for war crimes,  presided over the bloodiest period of the war.  He was a fervent evangelical who preached constantly to the nation about his God given mission to save Guatemala while at the same time his scorched earth policies, massacres and state sponsored terror sought to "convert" the poor from their support of the revolution by wholesale slaughter of the innocents.

The second reading is a rejection of the bible completely because of its use as a tool of oppression.  When Pope John Paul II visited Central America a group of Indigenous People wrote a letter to the Pope in which they returned the bible to him, "Because," they said, "in five hundred years it has given us neither love, nor peace, nor justice.  Please, take your Bible and give it back to our oppressors, because they need its moral precepts more than we."

A third reading though does find the liberation of the poor in the scriptures, especially in the story of the Exodus as Javier's story illustrates.  Though this reading does not answer the radical question of the other from a different cultural and different faith background.  How do we read the Exodus story as both a story of liberation but at the same time realize that from the Canaanite perspective it is also a story of conquest - a complete devaluation of the other, the stranger.

A fourth reading seeks to take seriously the other, it is an interpretation of the story by and with the indigenous themselves.  This community of indigenous does not reject the bible, quite the opposite has a vibrant faith in the Story of Christ, despite the real historical trauma that comes with the last 500 years. But they also want to reclaim their traditional spiritual practices and the stories that shape them as members of particular people in a particular place - stories in which they also hear God speaking.  They want to incorporate these traditional ways, along with their Christian practices into a fuller expression of their unique identity as children of God as a way of healing themselves from the trauma of the past.

On this Noche Buena, I do believe we are waiting for the dawn of a new era, in which the gospel, even through all the static of domination, is still proclaiming the same hope, that is the deepest hope of the whole world.  The hope that all can be included.  It is not just the one's like us, the Judeo-Christian mother and father and their little child who are welcome, or the deserving poor mother and father and their little child - but it is exactly the radically different, the total stranger, the other mother and father and child that can find a home.  And it is not just about included them in our home on our terms.  It is about the creation of a totally new home, a new community, the first fruits of a new society that we build together as equals.  That we build together through the power of the Spirit that is working in all of us.

I was anticipating for two weeks being able to participate in the Mayan Fire Ceremony.  On the night of Dec 21, a large crowd of Guatemalans gathered in the Park around an inner circle of Mayan worship leaders, their clothing accented with the ropa typica of modern Mayans.  With sugar, they drew a circle and inside the circle a cross representing the center of the world and the four directions.  Then they stood around it and talked for some time with the main leader giving instructions.  Then they slowly began to build the altar.  They made four smaller circles in each section, then added various types of kindling and herbs.  Four tall candles, red, white, yellow, black, represented the four directions, and in the middle a green was for La Tierra, the earth, and Blue for El Cielo, the sky.  The directions also symbolized many other things. For example the white was also the wind, and at one point the leader also said it symbolized Senor Jesus Christo.  Lots more smaller, thicker candles were placed inside the circle, then lots of flowers matching the colors of the outside candles, red, yellow, white, and purple flowers with the black candle.  They lit the six tallest candles, and then there was more waiting and instructions given.  All the time a flute and drum were playing simple music. A bunch of well dressed dignitaries showed up, the Mayor of Quetzaltenango and his entourage.  They joined the circle around the altar.  A long speech greeted the dignitaries.  The leader talked about the hopes for the Mayan people and all people, about peace in the town and country and world. He talked about ending discrimination, bringing justice, reconciliation and the importance of valuing the Mayan culture, this ceremony and the role it had to play for the benefit of the larger society.  Then they lit all the other candles, and the group of Mayan worship leaders knelt down in a circle around the altar and began a series of prayers.  First the leader prayed toward each of the four directions.  Then others prayed. At each they would throw more small candles on to the growing blaze counting with each candle, recalling the days of Mayan calendar and their significance, invoking abuelos, grandparents, reciting a list of all the surrounding mountains, and calling on the heart of the sky and the heart of the earth to listen to them.  "Escuchame el Corazon del Cielo, Escuchame el Corazon de la Tierra."

As we too wait this night for a new beginning, a new birth, let us too join our voices with those who gathered united in a circle around the growing blaze of the Spirit contained in all things.  Let us call upon the Heart of the Earth and Sky to hear our voices as well, to welcome us home as well, along with all the weary pilgrims searching for a new home this night.  "Escuchame el Corazon del Cielo, Escuchame el Corazon de La Tierra." And let us hear the welcome given to all, given to us as well,  "Entren Santos Peregrinos."

Preached at Wapato Presbyterian Church, Sept 5, 2010

Jeremiah paints a pretty bleak picture. He describes a hot wind blowing toward “my poor people” that is too strong for winnowing or cleansing. At the Campbell Farm we used to grow a little wheat, and we’d have the kids thresh the wheat and we’d use an electric fan to separate the wheat from the chaff. Carman liked to talk about it as the spiritual process we go through in our relationship with God. We do like to imagine suffering and trials as tests, but this wind that is blowing toward the people of God now in this scripture is too much. A gale force wind, not the gentle breeze of a fan. It is too much for the process of separating the wheat from the chaff, too much for any kind of purification.

How else can we explain it? Is God just angry? The prophet calls the people foolish, stupid children, with no understanding, skilled in doing evil, and it seems like no one knows how to do good. And definitely I know I have felt that way at times. Failure is a word I have used to describe myself more than once; I don’t need an angry God to beat me up. I do that to myself enough. When the winds of suffering blow too hard, when life is just too much for us to bear, we are not always at our best. We doubt, we are afraid, we seek to protect ourselves, we get defensive and sometimes we take it out on each other. Crisis sometimes brings out the worst in us, and we do act foolish. And even if we are trying to be faithful, the world sometimes is just too overwhelming, the problems we face seem too insurmountable and we have simply no idea what to do. And this, this scene that Jeremiah is describing seems like certain death. He describes the earth laid waste and void, no lights in the heavens, the mountains are quaking, hills move to and fro, the birds have fled, the fruitful land a desert, cities in ruin. The whole land is desolate. God forsaken.

But listen. God continues to speak to us even in this moment. He says, “I will not make a full end.” Though the earth shall mourn, the heavens grow black; God will not make a full end. Life comes from death, even this most horrible vision of a God forsaken earth - that is not the last word.

The psalmist tells us, “What is it that foolish people say? They say there is no God.” The psalmist is bitter in his lament at the foolishness of his people. He is in the same dark place about to give into hopelessness that Jeremiah was in. The place that we often go to in our own depression. It looks like all around him is darkness. Is everyone faithless? Is there no one who does good? Evil doers, they eat up my people like bread, the want to torture and confound the afflicted. The Psalmist sees the suffering all around him, the affliction of his people at the hand of their oppressors, and he is overwhelmed. And he prays for deliverance, “Oh that Israel’s deliverance would come out of Zion! When the Lord restores the fortunes of his people, Jacob will rejoice and Israel will be glad!”

Listen, listen. If there is but one who would be wise and seek after God, hear the prayer of the psalmist. Catch a glimpse of the hope against hope in that prayer. There will be deliverance.

Paul, in Timothy, knows that Jesus Christ is his strength. He does not boast about his position as a Pharisee or a Roman Citizen. He does not mention that he was an educated man of some position and power in his society. No, Paul talks about himself as the blasphemer, the persecutor, a man of violence, the least of the apostles, the foremost of sinners. He talks only about the mercy he received from Jesus Christ.

Paul says that Jesus displayed the utmost patience with him making him an example to those who would come to believe in Christ. Perhaps Paul is a little hard on himself, but it is all about giving glory to God and thanks for God’s endless patience. That is such a good thing. The God of patience works with us silly, stupid folks, who don’t know how to do stuff, who don’t know how to solve the myriad of problems we face, who are confused and bewildered much of the time. Many of us buy the line repeated by so many who seek to keep us down and in our place that we are unworthy. Or on the other hand we buy the line that others tell some of us, all about how our education or wealth or whatever credentials we possess, or the position we hold actually amount to something.

But all of us simply need to learn, over such a long time, a life time really, whether we are the lowest of the low or the most lofty, we need to learn that ultimately it is not about us at all, it is about God. It is about the fact that we are only and always just Beloved Children of God. GOD LOVES YOU! And yet this is sometimes the hardest thing to hear of all!

But listen, listen now. Even if you have been excluded from community because of who you are, what you might have done, or what others imagine you might have done. Even if others have looked down on you, closed the door on you, treated you like you were nothing. Or maybe you have been the one doing the looking down on, closing the door on others. Maybe you have been the one clinging to your pride, imagining that you can Lord it over others. You hide your insecurity and live in denial about your own need of God. Listen again and hear all you will ever need to hear. GOD LOVES YOU. Hear the words of Jesus from the cross who says, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do!” All of us simply need to hear the words of Christ! We are forgiven, precisely because we don’t have a clue what to do. It does not matter, none of it matter, however you have screwed up, whatever you don’t know how to do. God says, “I LOVE YOU!”

It is this kind of welcoming love that Jesus demonstrated. I know you are all facing uncertainty about the future of the church. You are overwhelmed about how to meet the needs of the community, how to keep alive the presence of the gospel here in Wapato. It may not be the end of the world as we know it, like the description in Jeremiah, but there is fear of death here as well, and grief over loss like the lament of the Psalmist.

None of you have all the answers and yet you are here. You are listening and you are being faithful. In fact I think you are doing just the right thing! Jesus took the criticism from the powers that be, the Pharisees of his day, who stood on the side lines and complained, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them!” This is in fact the central action of Jesus, a radical hospitality, that welcomes all into the loving arms of God, and that, that is what you are all are doing here at Wapato Community Presbyterian Church.

Just as the shepherd goes off in search of the lost sheep, or the woman in search of her lost coin, you have gone out and sought the lost among our community and invited them in. And not just sinners, but what is sometimes even more difficult, people who are different from one another, even a little scary and you are beginning to find a way to form community together. You are now a community of people who were lost and God has found you! And you have found each other. I spoke the other night to one of the newest members of your community, an ex-gang member who told me how God had brought him back from the brink of death, and how now this community has offered his community a place to worship, a chance to celebrate new life. He told me about how, right here in this room, rival gang members were singing and praising the same God side by side.

Listen brothers and sisters! These are the sounds and sights of new life emerging in this place! I know the future is uncertain here to say the least, but listen, listen to the sounds of new life all around you.

There are Pharisees and Scribes who stand ready on the side lines, ready to criticize what you are doing. There is a conventional wisdom that says forget about the lost sheep or the missing coin. Cut your losses, close the building, dissolve the church and save what money you do have. You hear voices telling you, you don’t have what it takes to really do ministry here in this community! And some of you have doubts and fears as well. You are tempted to fight with one another over the vision of the church and the direction it seems to be heading. Some of you may be a little uncertain if the welcome you felt will really last. While some of you might be a little scared maybe of some of the new people you see filling the pews around you. Others of you grieve the loss of a past that is really lost forever and you cannot get it back. You see the inevitable writing on the wall, the lack of funds, all the old friends who have died or moved away, or who have become those folks who stand on the side lines.

There are structures and systems that are set in place that are really set against you, racist and unjust systems, those principalities and powers that the bible talks about that we are called to resist. We really barely understand these powers but they are there and they are weighted against us. These systems turn well meaning people in folks who have a hard time figuring out how to support you, and in fact will work actively against you, for what you are doing is in fact subversive! By the simple act of hospitality to a stranger, to those different from you, and to the outcasts, and sinners, you are creating an alternative community, a new way of being in the world, a vision of the Kingdom of God that finds unity in diversity! In which all are welcome in the loving embrace of God.

You are following Jesus. Praise the Lord! And I want you to know they kill people for that kind of stuff! And worse than actually intentionally trying to kill you, the powers that be quite unintentionally in their desire to control things kill stuff, by the ineptitude, and negligence and just plain stupidity of people in power, just like all of us fools who don’t know what to do. We can squash a good thing.

Today I want to call you to claim the promise of Jesus Christ. There are signs of new life among you. You are an incredible sign of new life. And I encourage you to continue on this journey to listen to Jesus.

We all have a choice. We can be driven by fear, fear of the future, of economics, of all the pain and struggle that goes on around us, we can be afraid of those who are different from us, we can be afraid of the voices of those who stand on the edge and criticize and comment. We can be afraid all we want. OR we can claim the power of Christ within in, we can claim the hope that, no matter what, God says, “I will not make a full end, I will deliver my people and restore their fortunes.” It won’t ever be like it was. Restoration does not mean turn back the clock and it all goes back to the way it was. NO what God is about is transformation, new life, new wine in new wine skins, new ways of doing things, new forms of community, a new and emerging vision for a new life that comes out of the ashes of death and dying. We believe in resurrection around here! Remember how Paul was transformed. Each and everyone one of you has a story of personal transformation. Remember that story! Look inside yourselves and see where God has been at work in your life. You each have known the new life that comes from death. So too this community will be transformed as well.

I want to tell you also that you are not alone. We have formed an Ecumenical Shared Ministry group that has been meeting over the last year to share the similar stories of small congregations and mission partners throughout the Reservation and surrounding communities. My small little Episcopal congregation with about 10 members has been involved, the Methodist, Lutherans, and Disciples, have all been involved. David Norwood, Marlyn, Valeta, and Carman at the Campbell Farm have come to the meetings. We are getting to know one another, building those relationships and finding ways we can support one another. I want you to know that all of us look to the community that is unfolding here at Wapato Presbyterian Church as a model we all want to aspire to! You need to know that there are fellow Christians around you who recognize the work of God among you, and want to walk along side of you and support you. We are all praying for you.

I have no idea how it will all turn out, but I do believe that something new is emerging. There is a new wind blowing. And this time it is the powerful wind of the Spirit of the Living God, moving among us in a new way.

Listen . . . Listen . . . Listen for it. Can you hear it?

AMEN.

A Homily for Julie

I came across a series of emails the other day between Julie and my wife, Sheri written back in 2007. Sheri died a few months after these emails and the two of them were swapping stories of their various struggles and cancer treatments. In response to one of these descriptions by Julie, Sheri said, “It sounds like it’s been a horrible few months.” To which Julie responded with the following:

“Oh no, it has not been horrible! There is a humbling, faith-building love to this adventure I'm on, and a certainty (always with me) that no matter what, I am fully in God's hands. What a release that is!”

In one of the last conversations I had with Julie, just after she entered hospice she spoke about the same confidence she had in God who would soon welcome her home. But what I was most struck with was the way she described herself. Said she, “I can already sense myself in transition, moving into a dream state.”

Julie had an ability to see the world as it really is. She peeked into what lies behind or beyond, or what exists in and through all things. This glimpse is something we get in the thin times and places, like at the moment of death, when the lines between time and eternity are blurred and something else appears to us as if in a dream, breaking through. But I think that all of Julie’s life was lived in this holy place of vision, as a poet, as a woman of faith, as someone who loved deeply. She blessed us all with her particular vision. She definitely gifted me with her sight.

For me it was her ability to see things in potential as though they had already happened here and now.

Years ago when I worked at the Stockton Emergency Food Bank, Julie nominated me for the Land Utilization Alliance award for Urban Affairs. I had just begun my work at the Food Bank, and it seemed to me that I had done nothing really compared to many others in the community who had worked for years. But she was adamant that I deserved it and lobbied for me to get the award. All I could say then was “You haven’t seen anything yet!” But she saw something in me that I could not see myself. For Julie my potential was a present reality.

And now, over the last year I have been emailing her my sermons. I am a postulant for ordination to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church. It has been a long journey for me having graduated from seminary over 20 years ago, and there are still a couple of years left in the process. But I preach once a month now in my congregation back in Washington and Julie already began calling herself a member of my far flung congregation. I am deeply honored by her request to have me be a part of this service, but once again I feel like I am standing here because of Julie’s ability to see in me what I do not yet necessarily see in myself. I am certainly potentially a priest, but I am already Julie’s pastor. This is the gift she has given me.

It is a gift of hope and faith in new life, resurrection, not as something far off or distant in the future, but a current reality. Julie saw us as we truly are, in all the fullness of the glory of the gifts God has given us. That is a pretty amazing gift. We might think that she was dreaming . . . but that is exactly what she was doing. Julie existed in her suffering in that thin space between life and death for some time, the liminal space between waking and sleeping when you aren’t sure whether you are dreaming or not. It is a sacred space in which we encounter the holy. And she saw into her suffering the potential for life. This life of hers is a sign for all of us, of a way to be in the world, and Julie wrote poetry about it for all us to catch a glimpse of the dream she saw.

In one of her poems, All Heal A Circus At the Beach, she says, “I came today resolved to do nothing, but the sun has become a circus mirror” and she contrasts all the activity and playfulness of all the people on the beach with her own sick, dry self covered in layers to protect herself. She writes,

But I am not sick, certainly not at this moment of this day:
As the stark October sun shifts on my chilled fall bones,
I sense this is like no other month’s sun -
Its warmth like memories of so many loved ones’ smiles.

In one noisy imprecise moment I know
I will see those smiles again, know it
with the same certainty that within each exposed heart exists
a collection of dried tears for each life lived with others.

In more words written to my wife, Julie speaks about her own sense of “being healed (whether it was for a minute, a day, or a long time).” And she was healed. In later emails besides work, she spoke of playing golf, taking a cruise, editing poetry journals. But whether in sickness or health, in all her strength and weakness, whether her blood count was up or down, I believe she was able to see the potential of all life realized. She knew she was in God’s hands. “What a release that was!”

Julie comforted my wife in her last days with these words. “You too Sheri,” you are in God’s hands as well,” she said, “You are also one who has helped to build my faith, so what an irony, or something like that.” The irony that Julie sensed was that she was being priest to this pastor, my wife, at that moment. She may not have thought of herself as priest, anymore than I do, anymore than any of us do at times. But she was a priest, as much as I am, as much as all of us are. Though it may seem ironical, it is the truth. We are all priests to one another, we stand in the in between space accompanying one another on the journey.

Bill Countryman, one of my seminary professors wrote a book called Living on the Border of the Holy, Renewing the Priesthood of all, in which he says that what it means to be a human being is to be a priest. All the other kinds of priesthoods are merely reflections of this underlying reality of what it means to be human. This is the kind of vision that Julie had. She stood in the place of transition, on the border, and saw the holy in all things, and she shared that with all of us. She looked into all of our lives and saw the potential there realized, all our hopes and dreams come true, in her ability to see things as they really are.

Laura and Katie, all of the potential of your lives as well, your mother really has already seen. It is your smiles, and all those she has loved, that she has already seen again, just as she saw her Creator welcoming her home in that last dream of hers. You may imagine all the places and times of your life that your mother will not be there for as you grow up, but just as I know she saw my potential, she has already seen yours. She has already been with you where you will go and has seen all that you are and will be. She has already been there with you in all of your lives.

Julie has gone before us. As certainly as Christ has gone before us, Christ, who is our great high priest, whom we all represent in our lives. Julie has caught a glimpse of the whole, the unity of all things, the life that comes from death, in a dream, in the transition time, on the border land. That is a really good thing. She is a witness for all of us. And that life is open to all of us, as we claim our own priesthood, as we see the world the way she saw the world, in all its fullness, and follow her there. We will say with her, “What a release that is!” Praise be to God. AMEN.

Sermon July 18, 2010

The passage from Amos begins with the image of a Basket of Summer Fruit. A timely image for us in the Yakima Valley. Cherries, peaches, apricots, plums, grapes, melons. A vision of the abundance of God’s creation.

It could have been a vision of all sharing in the blessing of creation, enjoying together its abundance, and the abundant grace of God, but no instead –

The passage quickly turns to condemnation “The end has come!” Literally a pun in the original Hebrew: “the time is ripe.” What looked like a sign of harvest festival, ripened fruit, is really a portent of doom to come. What unfolds is a grizzly vision of a future without God, a time of mourning and death when songs of the temple become wailing, dead bodies pile up and are cast out everywhere. The whole land trembles and rises and sink again, darkness covers the land. There will be famine, but not a famine of bread, but of hearing the word of God. A time when the people will be utterly cut off from God, left to wander aimlessly without this relationship to the ground of their being that roots them and gives their life meaning and purpose.

Why is God so angry?

“You trample on the needy, bring ruin to the poor of the land.” You are impatient with holy days, anxious to can get back to business and cheat the poor with false balances, and poor quality product, selling the sweepings of the wheat. It is this injustice, this corruption that is the reason for God’s anger and the reason for the dire prophecy of what is to come.

Sometimes we live in denial, we say, boy things were really bad in Amos’ day, and we thank God that we live in a time and place where people are more free and equal, in a society more just. Or we compare our life here in our own country with places around the world and we thank God that we are not like those other people. Or we blame some evil individuals or whole classes of people rather than seeing the systemic injustice that runs through and through the way things are set up. We live in denial, just like the people of Israel did in Amos’ day.

Amos plays a rhetorical trick on the people he is prophesying against. He begins in Chapter one by condemning everyone else; all of Israel’s neighboring nations. He condemns Damascus, and Gaza, Tyre and Edom, Ammon, Moab. And he sets the people up, works them up into a fervor of self-righteousness against the rest of the world around them. I can imagine his listeners thinking, he must be about to speak of how great Israel is compared to all the rest of those nations. But instead he condemns Judah as well. Ok, that was close. This is at the time of the divided Kingdom, Judah to the south, Israel to the north, and he is prophesying in Israel not in Judah. So, ok, yes we can condemn them as well! But we are still going to come out ok! Compared to all these others we are the chosen people, the city on the hill, the hope of world. Then Amos goes in for the kill.

This is what the LORD says:
"For three sins of Israel,
even for four, I will not turn back.
They sell the righteous for silver,
and the needy for a pair of sandals.

They trample on the heads of the poor
as upon the dust of the ground
and deny justice to the oppressed.

Then he launches into a relentless critique of the injustice, corruption and depravity of Israel and pronounces judgment from God that ends finally in the destruction of Israel. The last 5 verses of the book of Amos, as if an afterthought and in a completely different tone and style, speak of the restoration of Israel. Some scholars think that these five verses were added on later by another editor who just could let it end that way, could not leave the book where Amos left it in such utter hopelessness, unrelenting condemnation, the finality of judgment.

This sort of editing happens again and again in the bible and sets up a dialogue and debate in the bible itself about the ultimate fate of Israel. How shall we deal with this angry God? Will God completely forsake Israel? Will he listen to their repentance and turn to them once again? Is God’s promise to them unshakeable finally? Will he save all the people or just a remnant?

This is the same debate we have about humanity in general. Is there universal salvation? Will God finally turn his back completely on his creation? Will he only save a remnant, some chosen few, only the good people, or just the poor, while the rich go to hell, or is it true that not one of his sheep will be lost? Even in the face of the kind of anger at injustice that God exhibits in Amos, are we still finally, loved by God, saved by grace which is a gift for all of humanity? What is God’s ultimate intention for us? All of us need some sign that God still loves us.

I must say that I am one that would have edited Amos as well. I don’t like homogenizing scripture. We sometimes attempt to tame it by playing down some of its more dangerous, ugly and uncomfortable passages. But what I have come to understand is that the Bible is a dialogue. To faithfully read scripture you have to become a part of the conversation yourself.

For my part I want to add to the conversation the dialogue that occurs in the Color Purple. It’s a story of the journey of an oppressed people and the liberation of abused women. Two characters, Shug and Celie, have this wonderful conversation walking through a field of flowers, talking about God. Shug comes to a new sense of God in her journey of liberation. God just wants to love and be loved, she says, and the whole world is set up as this love relationship. All of us, people, flowers and trees just want to be loved, to be noticed, Shug says. It’s all about getting noticed, admired, recognized for who we are as beloved children of God. God wants to “share a good thing,” always giving back and loving us by creating more and more beauty.

Shug says, “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple

in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.” Celie asks, “What does God do when it pissed?” and Shug replies, “It just make something else!”

This is the image of the Creator God of Love who constantly holds in its hands the least of these, the most insignificant and simply notices and admires and loves, and cherishes every living thing. When we don’t, in return, notice and care for and cherish others and ourselves the way God does, God just makes more stuff and puts more beautiful people and things in our way for us to encounter until we do begin to notice and cherish and love all of God’s people and all of God’s creation, until we love ourselves and until we love God who is in all things.

With this vision of creation we are back to the vision in the beginning of the Amos passage of the Basket of Summer Fruit. No longer is it a vision of doom, but once again a vision of the hope to which we are called. Remember the prophecy in Amos is not a famine of bread or thirst for water, but of hearing the word of God. There is still all around us the continual image of the blessing of God, of the abundance of creation, the bounty of the harvest, a vision in which all can share in the blessing of creation. God’s creation is a constant reminder of abundance, grace and blessing. The reality is that there is enough for everyone if we only discover how to share in love with all - If we could only listen to God calling us into this way of being in the world.

One of my favorite passages from Annie Dillard, a naturalist writer, is her description of an ant hill. God does not just create one ant or a few hundred or even a few thousand. They just keep pouring out of the ant hill, in this incredible fecundity of creation. Fecundity is about fruitfulness, fertility, reproduction, the capacity for abundant production. This is the earth that God has given us.

And yet we often do not live out of this vision of abundance. We often live instead in a mentality of scarcity.

I attended a retreat once called the Ministry of Money a program of the Church of the Savior in Washington DC. It was a program that primarily took incredibly wealthy people on reverse pilgrimages to places like Calcutta with the intention of liberating them from their wealth. What I discovered first hand spending a week in retreat with a few very wealthy folks and listening to their confessions was how trapped they felt in their wealth, how fearful they were that they did not have enough, how concerned they were for their own security and safety.

On the other hand, I met a woman recently whose non-profit had just been awarded $20 million over the next 10 years from the California Foundation to design and implement a comprehensive poverty reduction plan. They have gathered together stakeholders from across her county, they are discovering the diversity of assets already in their community, how they can more effectively work together and they are beginning to address a broad range of issues across all sectors of the community. It is amazing what we can do when we stop fighting with each other, being afraid of one another, exploiting one another and begin to work together for the common good.

But it does not begin with doing. Rather it begins with listening.

Paul says, I became a servant of God to make the word of God fully known. There is a mystery that has been hidden through the ages but now it has been revealed to you. As the Colossians passage today reminds us Jesus Christ is the image of God, the first born of all creation. He is before all things and all things hold together in him. Christ is a universal vision of all the incredible diversity of creation united as one in God. This universal vision is embodied in the church. We are the body of Christ. Our role is to be a living sign of this universal vision of all things reconciled to God. We are a sign of all things reconciled in the abundant grace of God.

Jesus Christ is the image of the Basket of Summer Fruit, an image of abundance in which all can share in the blessing of God’s creation. There is enough for everyone. Everyone, rich and poor, young and old, people of all colors and backgrounds, the whole wide world can have a place at this table.

Listen. Hear yourselves become a part of the dialogue around the dinner table. Listen to Martha and Mary talking to Jesus and what Jesus says, “Mary has chosen the better part.” Martha, Martha, you are distracted by many things: not enough time, not enough help, not enough of whatever you think you need to get the job done. You are distracted, just like the Israelites in Amos’ prophecy who where in a famine of hearing the words of the Lord. They wondered from sea to sea, north to south, they ran to and fro seeking but never finding. They were completely lost in aimless activity without the word of God to guide them.

It is not until you sit down at the feast that has been prepared for you and encounter the one who is both the meal and the host that you will know yourselves once again to be beloved children of God, and find yourself once again among family. Only when you sit at the feet of the one who reconciles all things to himself, and allow his words and his abundant life to transform you, wash over you – only then will know. You will never be able to think of anyone as a stranger or an enemy again. You will never again be able to let the least of your brothers and sisters go unnoticed. You will never again be able to tolerate abuse or injustice in any form, to anyone, and you will seek always and everywhere to include everyone at the table of blessing. You will do this because this is who you are, because you listened to, you fed on, you have been filled with, the Word of God.