Sunday, August 31, 2014

Small word; large meaning



There is a little word that gets used a lot in church circles.  We say it in penitence; we hear it in absolution. We recite it in the ancient creeds; we pray it in various collects.  For a little word, it has many definitions.  It’s also highly corruptible and people try to bend it to their will.  If you haven’t already guessed it, the word is “true”.

We use the word a great deal as an adjective:  “True repentance,” “true God,” “all that is true.”  As an adjective, true can mean:

  • ·        consistent with fact or reality,
  • ·        real, genuine,
  • ·        reliable,
  • ·        faithful or loyal, or
  • ·        unfeigned, sincere.

These are the definitions one usually attributes to the word “true” when we think about it in a religious context. 

Of course, some religious factions would tend to the use of the word as referring to:

  • ·        essential or fundamental,
  • ·        rightful or legitimate, and
  • ·        exactly forming to a rule or pattern.

And then there are the usages that point more to engineering:

  • ·        accurately shaped, fitted, placed, or delivered
  • ·        quick and exact in sensing and responding


When I read the collect for today out loud, the words “true religion” smacked my consciousness.  Boy oh boy – that is one loaded phrase. 

Doesn’t every religion want to be the “true” one?  I admit to perpetuating that desire whenever I refer to someone who has converted to the Episcopal Church as one who has found “The One True Faith!”  And, yes, I am being facetious when I do so.

So, what did we really just pray God to do for us?  The other petitions aren’t so controversial: graft in our hearts the love of your name, nourish us with all goodness, bring forth in us the fruit of good works.  It’s just that ‘increase in us true religion’ part that makes me ponder.

That’s when I realized that the definitions of true that would normally be connected to a religious context don’t work as well as the ones that point to engineering.  True religion should be shaped, fitted, placed, or delivered to its context and be quick and exact in sensing and responding.  But, the context – that’s the interesting part.

A colleague of mine reminded me that when you drop a plumb line, a means of finding a true and straight line, that line is only true for you and where you are standing.  Gravity is what pulls the plumb line true.  So, someone who is in Columbus, Ohio, can drop a plumb line but it will not be the same line as someone who drops a plumb line in San Diego, California.  Both people will get a straight line from their perspective, but if you change the vantage point, something amazing occurs.  Plumb lines are at different angles when observed from a global point of view.  What’s true is not the line itself, but the gravitational pull to the center.

As Christians, we need to focus on who is pulling us to our center: Jesus.  To have true religion increased in us, we must allow Jesus and his message to shape, fit, place, and deliver his truth within our context – our world, our country, our communities, our work, our schools, our homes. In doing that, we live out the faith we profess in a real, genuine, and sincere manner.

Paul’s letter to the church in Rome is a blueprint for how to accomplish this.  When we read the epistle, we are confronted with the fact that to be a Christian means seeing our context from a different point of view.  We are to love one another, to outdo each other in showing honor, to rejoice in hope and extend hospitality to people we do not know.

This is completely counter to the “religion of fear and scarcity” that blares at us from our televisions and radios and 24-hour faux news stations.  And, no, I’m not singling out a certain conservative network when I say “faux”.  No one is reporting news in any medium because no one is reporting without a spin factor. 
 
Every story, every article, has had its plumb line of truth draped over some object that skews it away from what is essential or fundamental. And, every agency wants us to drink their brand of kool-aid.  Therefore, for any of us to really know what’s going on, we have to spend hours sifting through stories and court reports on our own.  Because none of us really has time to do that, we settle on whatever makes sense to us from our limited world view.  It’s no wonder that the world is decidedly “out of true”.

The cure for this is for us to respond completely counter culture.  We cannot fix all of this mess. It’s too complicated and the systems are so entrenched it’s going to take years and require the gifts of reconciliation that only a small number of people on this planet possess.  What we can do is pay attention to the plumb line given to us by Jesus and center ourselves in a context of reconciliation. 

Instead of complaining about or cursing politicians, pray for them.  Instead of making excuses for or taking sides in the events in towns in Missouri or Florida or Illinois, weep with the families who have lost their loved ones and with those whose lives have been forever changed because of their actions. 
 
Seek the image of God in the people of Gaza and Israel and Iraq and Syria and everywhere else for that matter. Extend hospitality to strangers by contributing to Episcopal Relief and Development or another world relief organization.  Associate with the lowly as an equal by serving food to a homeless person and then striking up a conversation with him or her.

We must constantly guard against responding quickly and exactly from a perspective of revenge and hatred. This is a stumbling block not only to our own souls but to the souls of others.  Instead, we must respond in love, in prayer, and with affection.  The evil in this world cannot stand up to the love of God.  So, keep your mind centered on those things that are of God and of the love that will eventually overcome all that evil can throw at it. 

And, for heaven’s sake – and yours, watch and read about the events of the day with a mind on the divine perspective.  You’ll stay saner. Trust me.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Who do you say Jesus is?



(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved
 
A Baptist, a Roman Catholic and an Episcopalian die at the exact same nanosecond and go to heaven. St. Peter meets them at the gate. He apologizes and says that because of a theological glitch, only one of them can get in since they died at exactly the same time.
“However,” Peter said. “The good news is that Jesus himself is going to conduct the entrance interview to decide who gets in.” So, Jesus comes to the gate and, after apologizing again for the bad theology, begins the interviews.
“Who do you say that I am?” he asks the Baptist.
“Well, the Bible says…”
HONK – “Wrong,” says Jesus. “But thank you for playing. Then he turns to the Roman Catholic.  “Who do you say that I am?” he asks.
“Well, the Pope says…”
HONK – “Wrong.” says Jesus. “But thank you for playing.” Exasperated, Jesus turns to the Episcopalian.  “Who do you say that I am?”
The Episcopalian replies, “You are the Messiah. The Son of the Living God who has come from heaven to save the world from sin.”
Overjoyed, Jesus says to the Episcopalian, “Thank heaven! Come right on in.”
And then the Episcopalian says, “But, on the other hand…..”

Okay…this is a light-hearted poke of fun with today’s Gospel, but Jesus didn’t ask that question lightly.  He was in need of information.  In his world, honor was an attribute with a limited quantity. To be listened to, to make a difference, you must be afforded honor by those who follow you.  Of course, since to get honor for yourself, you would have to be given it or have taken from someone else who had honor.  No wonder Jesus said that a prophet had no honor in his home town.  So, Jesus is checking out his street cred with the disciples. What kind of honor does he possess? Just how dangerous is his mission getting?

Then, he gets personal.  What do the disciples think? Will they buy in? Do they support this amount of honor in him? Is Jesus another John the Baptist? Is he another prophet sent from God to tell them why they are in this mess?
Is he the One to lead them away from Roman oppression?  Then Peter speaks, as usual without pondering for just one moment over the consequences of his actions.  “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”
Right answer, Peter.  Thank you for playing.

Who do you say Jesus is?  Do you use words like “Personal Savior” or “Son of God” or “Messiah?”  Do you say he is a prophet? a rabbi? a teacher? a physician?  All or none of the above? The problem in today’s context is that these titles or labels for Jesus have become institutional jargon that means nothing.  They no longer carry honor.  We have to go more deeply to connect to Jesus these days.  What are the actions that lie beneath those titles or labels?  What does it mean to be Messiah? to be a personal savior? Is it like a personal trainer?  A life coach? Maybe. Maybe not.  What matters is that we sell Jesus short by reducing his identity to something that can be printed on a business card.  Jesus is not his job description.  
(hint, hint – neither are we)  

If Jesus asked me today who I say that he is, I couldn’t answer in 140 characters or with a lovely photo scene on Instagram or Facebook.  Jesus is a relationship.  And relationships are messy and, well, complicated.  Good relationships are full of love and at the same time laced with tension. Sometimes Jesus is a big brother who protects me; sometimes he is the mother who feeds me. Sometimes, Jesus is the provocateur who forces me to widen my thinking and challenges my presuppositions and assumptions, just like he was challenged by the Canaanite woman.  Sometimes, I’m the Canaanite woman challenging him.*

Who I – who you – say Jesus is can only be a first step on our journey.  Remember our friend Peter?  After his verbal blurt, Jesus doesn’t pat Peter on the head and say “Good job, Rocky, now it’s Miller Time.” No. He says, “On this rock I will build my church.”  To further his ministry and mission, Jesus is putting all his faith in the testimony of a less-than-perfect human being.  The reward for recognizing Jesus for who he is – for affirming his relationship with him – Peter is now responsible for building the community further.  This is our reward, our privilege, as well.

Jesus may feel like MY big brother, but a relationship with Jesus isn’t just a personal one.  We have to share him.  If things aren’t already messy enough, we have to be in relationship with all the other people who claim him as a “personal savior.”  When Peter declared Jesus to be the Son of the Living God, he actually encapsulated what Jesus had been teaching: that God is for everyone.  It’s no wonder we just want to worship him and be done with it.  Following Jesus is work.

Following Jesus means looking hard at the examples he set for us: Listening to and engaging people in ministry without looking down on them; touching people who are sick; taking time to pray and honor the Sabbath; being challenged by but not getting defensive with people of other faith practices.  All of this requires much more from us than being ‘nice’ and showing up once a week for an hour or so. Because we believe he is what we say he is, and that confession compels us to follow his example, Jesus requires of us a 24/7 commitment. A Christian is always on call. (And you thought this was reserved only for clergy!)  What might that look like?
 
A friend of mine, a nurse at a local hospital, told me one time that she had a particularly difficult patient on her floor one day.  One of the staff told her that she wouldn’t tend to the patient because of the person’s behavior and language.  The staff member was wearing a gold cross.  My nurse friend could have approached this situation from a supervisory point of view, but she didn’t.  Instead, she took the staff member aside and asked if the gold cross was indicative of her faith as a Christian.  The staff member said yes.  That’s when my friend said, “Then, go do what a Christian would do. God do what Jesus would do. Take care of the patient because he is a child of God.  He’s just having a temper tantrum at the moment.”

On the other hand, it might look like the EfM mentor I recently met who welcomed back into her class a woman who had had a stroke and wanted to finish her 4th year.  Even though she wasn’t able to speak, the mentor and her group made a space for the woman so that she could be in community as she began to heal.

On the other hand, it might look like a dad coaching a soccer team and teaching the kids more than just the game.  Coaches have the opportunity to teach the rules, but they also teach about disappointment and how to recover from loss, and how to win gently, upholding the honor of the opposite team’s members and coaches.
On the other hand….well, you tell me.
Amen.
*Bishop Price commented: “Sometimes?”
(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved 

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Air, water, fire -Sermon from August 10th



(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved

Today is a day for air, water and fire. Air and Water for the gospel. Fire for a deacon of the church.  These elements stand side by side today; they do not destroy each other. They inform each other and give us lessons in living our faith in the world.

Water for the ancient world meant chaos.  Water was a threat.  Floods destroy the planet; the sea blocks the escape for Moses. You don’t get through the waters of this world without divine intervention. Wind joins with water to create dangerous waves that swamp your boat or fling you into the chaos.

Jesus walking on the water gives the disciples hope because they see that the powers of evil have no effect on their Teacher.  He tells them “it is I” – the equivalent of “I am” here – the God of the universe has everything under control.  It’s just that we don’t always perceive this to be true. 

Water is Matthew’s metaphor to remind us that being a disciple of Jesus means that we may find ourselves in situations that are threatening, even (as they say) unto death.
Such was the case of our deacon of the church. Lawrence of Rome served as archdeacon under Pope Sixtus in the early years of the Christian Church.  It was in the mid-200’s under the violent rule of emperor Valerian.  Valerian required that the treasuries of the church be emptied into the coffers of the Roman empire and that all sacrifices be made to the emperor.  Pope Sixtus would become the second pope in a row to give up his life on behalf of the faith.  Deacon Lawrence visited Sixtus in prison. He was said to have been distressed to see his bishop in custody and wanted to go with him to his death.  Sixtus, though, had other plans.  He told Lawrence to take the money from the church’s treasury and distribute it to the poor.

Lawrence did as he was told and when Sixtus came to trial he confirmed that he had done the distribution of treasure by his own hand. The word “treasure” caught the attention of some of the guards and he was arrested.  Deacons just don’t know when to keep their mouths shut. Never have. Never will. I was a deacon for 15 years.  Believe me, I know this.

So Lawrence found himself in prison.
Soldiers were sent to Lawrence’s cell to force him to give the church treasure over to Valerian.  Lawrence told him that if he were given three days, he would bring the treasure of the church to the emperor.  He gathered together a crowd of poor and sick people who depended upon the Church’s charity. When the soldiers came for the collection, Lawrence told them “Here are the vessels in which is contained the treasure. And everyone who puts their treasure in these vessels will receive them in abundance in the Heavenly Kingdom.”

As you can probably guess, this didn’t help his cause.  Valerian ordered him to be tortured – death by the sword was too good for these Christians who wanted to die quickly for their cause.  Lawrence was racked, beaten, and flailed.  Finally, he was laid on a gridiron and positioned so that he would burn to death slowly.  The folklore surrounding his martyrdom reports that Lawrence told his captors that he was done on one side and that they should turn him over.  After they did, he gave up his spirit.

Lawrence was buried in the catacombs of Rome and the gridiron, I understand, is in the reliquary of the church that bears his name just outside the city boundaries.  He is known today as the patron saint of bankers, comedians, and fire (or, if you will, ‘barbeque’).

Air, water, fire.  The more I reflect on Peter in today’s gospel and the story of Deacon Lawrence the more parallels I see.  Both are enmeshed in chaos. Peter in the wind and the waves; Lawrence in the political reality that would lead him to the flames. Both reached out to their teacher and mentor bidding them to take them along. Both ended up following Jesus to their own martyrdoms.  Following Jesus is not for the faint of heart.

We cannot forget how incredibly lucky we are to be Christians in this place and in this time.  Perhaps that thankfulness is why I cling to the stories of people like Peter and Lawrence. Or the brave witness given by Oscar Romeo, who was assassinated at the altar in San Salvador, or of Bernard Mizeki, who was stabbed to death while defending his catechism class in Zimbabwe. 
Even now, as we gather here in Dublin, Ohio, to worship without fear, hundreds of Christians in Iraq are being targeted for execution because they have committed their lives to following Jesus.

I’m aware each week that being an ordained person was often a life-threatening situation.  There’s very little protection between a priest with outstretched arms and an angry mob.  The history behind the priest receiving communion first is that, if the elements had been poisoned by an enemy the priest would be killed before the others gathered for the Divine Liturgy. For the priest – it was the Last Supper!  One of my professors at Trinity said once that “We are first in line because we are first for the lions.” (This is why priests should never upset the altar guild!)

We may think our lives are chaotic, but we are so very mistaken.  Some Christian leaders may claim that we are being persecuted in this country, but they are so very mistaken.  We are ignored, yes. We are misunderstood, yes. We are laughed at, yes. But, when it comes to being “persecuted”, at worst we are victims of our own choices.
The last parallel of Peter and Lawrence is one of Good News.  Both found grace in being a disciple of Jesus Christ.  Despite the fact that their faith came at great personal cost, both went to their end deeply committed to their faith and showed a certain sarcastic quality with their tormentors.  Peter decided to be crucified head down so that he wouldn’t be taking the same form of death as his master.  But, you can just imagine what the soldiers then had to contend with in the process.  “Turn me over,” Lawrence said to the Roman soldiers. Even in the midst of his pain, he found the bravado to taunt his executioners.

May we be brave enough to step into uncharted waters of ministry, walk through windstorms of fear, and endure fiery attacks from those who hate us in order to share the love and grace we have in our knowledge of Christ.  And may we take time each day to be thankful that our opportunities for service are not putting us in danger on a daily basis.  Pray for peace, my friends, in all the world.
Amen.

[Note: On August 11th, Robin Williams took his life and with him a piece of all of our joy.  May Lawrence, the patron saint of comedians, keep him company.] 
(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved