March 25, 2012 Gospel: John 12:20-33 Psalm 51:1-12
1st Reading: Jeremiah 31:31-34 2nd Reading: Hebrews 5:5-10
We’ve come to the last of our sermon series on “returning.” We’ve covered returning to the self, to relationships, to religion, to the earth, and today I’m hoping to tackle “Returning to God.” It’s kind of a big topic, the whole point of faith, one could argue. Isn’t that why we come here—to return to God, to be in relationship with God? Isn’t that what the whole Bible is about, God’s people returning to God? Isn’t that what God wants of us—a return to relationship, to love, to commitment?
And yet Martin Luther said that all we could ever do was to turn away from God. Humans by our own power can’t turn back to God. Only God can turn us back toward him.
I think of little children, as I often do, and their attention spans. They want to see and explore. They want to greet the dog and grab the toy from the other child and roll around in the yard and chase the butterfly and on and on. I’m looking at baby proofing my house, trying to think like a little guy. We’ll need to cover the outlets and secure the kitchen cupboard doors. We’ll have to get gates to put up. We’ll have to feed the cats outside—in fact maybe the cats can spend the whole summer outside so we can ditch the litter box and the nightmare that will be with a curious baby crawling around. Then there are Nick’s records, the glass doors on the credenza, all kinds of places to bump a head, teetering lamps. And that’s just at home. I have nightmares about the stairs here at church. I wonder if he will curl up under a pew one day and I won’t be able to find him.
I know that exploring and curiosity is the way kids learn and grow. I know I can’t protect him from every scrape and bump and to do so would limit him too much. He’d never learn the things he needs to learn about the shape and size of his body and that dust bunnies and dead bugs are not that tasty. But I hope that as he explores and gets hurt, physically and emotionally he will come back to me sometimes to cuddle and to have a listening ear as he gets older and that we will sustain a strong relationship through the years.
And I think that is what God wants of us. God wants us to return to him, even though we are bound to wander and explore, to share love and stories and relationship.
So how do we return to God? Or how does God return us to relationship and covenant with him?
Sometimes I feel such a chasm between myself and God. God’s perfection is so distant. His glory is something I can’t comprehend. God’s love is so big. God’s creativity is so huge. God is beyond all understanding. We’ve got a lot about God’s glory in the readings for today. Do you remember the story of God inviting Moses to look upon his glory? Moses had to hide his face or he would be destroyed by that glory, it was such a strong and powerful force. And still he glowed afterward!
God sensed that distance and decided to create a new covenant with us, one in which the love of God would be written on our hearts and we would instinctively know God from the least of us to the greatest. God wanted to create a connection point between us to bridge the separating. God wanted to experience relationship, atonement, a coming together of the divine and human. So God sent Jesus Christ, a God-human combo or hybrid, completely human, completely God, all at the same time.
I was recently doing some plumbing, replacing a cabinet in the bathroom and all the stuff underneath. We discovered at 9:50 pm that the hose was too short between the faucet and where the water comes out of the wall below so I had to rush to Home Depot to find the correct connector. I rushed over there with 3 minutes to spare. The front door was locked so I snuck in the out door and a nice young man showed me where to find the piece to fit the two together. Jesus is that connector piece between God and humanity. We also know that Jesus is God’s son, an extension of God rather than something separate and new, so we could say that God adapted God’s connector so that humanity could see that there was a connection point, so we wouldn’t just see God as far away, but that God would be within our hearts and nearer to us than we are to ourselves.
In order to be a good fit with us, so that we would trust Jesus, Jesus had to be like us in some important ways. One of the most important is that he take on human limitations. How could we trust someone who doesn’t know what it feels like to be us? We could only identify with someone who has walked in our shoes. So God took on limitations. God came as a baby with the helplessness that comes along with it. He grew up just like a regular person, because he was a regular person. He scraped his knee, argued with his parents, made mistakes on his math test, hurt other people’s feelings, experienced sore muscles and headaches, bug bites, he misunderstood people, he didn’t meet people’s expectations. He took human limitations on himself as Jesus. He was a person.
John is focused on this human aspect of God as broken, self-limiting, wounded. It isn’t a new concept. We see in the Old Testament how God is hurting because Israel broke the covenant. “I was your husband,” cries God, humiliated, betrayed, wounded. Because God loves so deeply, God’s heart can be broken. God can get hurt.
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus weeps, sometimes he gets angry, he gets frustrated with his own failed attempts to make his point to his disciples about inclusion and love and what the Kingdom of God is like. Of course he suffers on the cross and his body is broken and he experiences death. John’s Gospel is the only one where Jesus appears after the resurrection with his wounds still visible. He could have been raised with a perfect, whole body. But instead his wounds are raised with him and he shows them to the disciples.
It is Jesus’ wounds that draw us all to him, that return us to him. There is beauty in the broken. Our beautiful Mt. Hood is a pile of broken rocks, the results of broken tectonic plates rubbing up against one another. Fabric must be cut, broken, to be sewn back together to make a beautiful garment. We break our earlobes (and sometimes noses, lips, eyebrows, or tongues) to put decorations in them. Jesus’ wounds were something that he wanted to keep. They were an important part of who he was. They were a connection point between himself and human kind. They showed that he knew what we went through. They showed how far he was willing to go to return us to God. They showed a relationship deep enough to survive betrayal and hurt and keep on loving.
I invite you to look upon the cross here in our sanctuary. See the cross shapes on Jesus’ hands? They indicate the wounds he received for our sake. Here he is being lifted up both as on the cross and at his ascension. This isn’t a gruesome depiction of Christ on the cross, even though it shows his wounds. It is him with his brokenness, not hiding it as he draws all creation to himself.
“We wish to see Jesus,” the Gentiles say, and we come with the same wish. And we can see him. “I was in prison and you visited. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink.” He has promised to be in the poor, the hungry, the imprisoned, the vulnerable, the wounded, the limited. It is a matter of if we will look for him there in the face of the needy and see him in the tears of those who are suffering and look for him in the scars of those who have been wounded.
And we can hear God, too, in the dead calm after the tornado, in the thunder, in the voices of his angel messengers, if we train our ear to be alert to that voice.
We are wounded. We cry out. God is wounded. God cries out. We hear each other and return and find wholeness where brokenness meets brokenness and we understand each other and experience love and relationship.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Sermon for March 18, 2012
March 18, 2012 Gospel: John 3:14-21 Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22 1st Reading: Numbers 21:4-9 2nd Reading: Ephesians 2:1-10
Victor Kaufmann has planted 10,000 trees by hand on his property in the state of Washington in the last ten years. A couple of hundred years ago the land was wooded. It was logged and then used as pastureland and for growing oats. Vic is returning the land to its former state. He is sharing the good news with the earth. Birds are returning the area. The trees capture carbon in the air. The trees breathe it in and make oxygen. They clean the air of pollutants. “For God so loved the world…”
Often we humans have thought that the good news of God’s love is just for us. We have thought that we are the only ones who can praise God. We have seen ourselves as the pinnacle of creation. God saved the best for last.
The Israelites in Moses’ time got caught up in selfishness and self-worship, in their own aches and pains, in their complaining, in their desire for their favorite foods. They griped and complained when God saved them from slavery. They turned up their noses as the manna from heaven that God provided. They pitched a fit at every little setback they encountered.
Anyone who’s ever had kids, or nieces and nephews knows this ungrateful gripe. I saw my 12 year old niece cast her Christmas gift to the side with a sneer this year. I am guessing I probably didn’t get her what she wanted. I know I’m out of touch. I’ve been told what isn’t good enough about the food I make. Past middle-schoolers from this congregation have laughed at the car I drive and the clothes I wear. I know I have just brought a little person into this world who will someday be able to share his opinions about how I do things and don’t do things, just like I did to my parents as a teenager and am still prone to do now and then.
We’re all guilty of these shenanigans. I’m sorry to say not much has changed since the Old Testament. It is so easy to be selfish—I wanted that parking spot, why can’t that person see things my way, I should have what I want—this or that food or gadget, it is my way or the highway, my plans are so much more important than other people’s. We are arrogant. We put ourselves in the center, and isn’t that another form of idolatry?
We are self-centered, but God doesn’t want to punish us. I don’t believe that God sent snakes to bite people and kill them. Instead, isn’t it true that we provide poison enough? God wants us to see the poisonous attitudes for what they are because they hurt us the most. When I am selfish I tromp all over other people’s hopes and dreams. And when they are selfish, they might do the same to me. It is a matter of treating other people the way we want to be treated so that life is better for everyone.
God wants us to see something bigger than our personal preference. God wants us to look at the bigger picture like God does. “I lift my eyes unto the hills,” the Psalmist writes, “From whence my help comes.” When I look beyond my own little world, I see a whole beautiful universe that God created.
When you go for a walk outside, don’t you just feel that your troubles come into perspective? When you look up at the stars at night on one of these clear nights that we’ve had lately and you see the bright planets shining in the West, don’t you forget all your troubles? When you look down and see a little bug struggling along, don’t you feel a kinship with that creature—a shared experience of life? When you look into the eyes of another human being, whether at the pantry, or at the store, or at a friend’s, don’t you see a world at least as important, as deep, as joyful and as troubled, as yours?
In today’s Gospel reading we see that God’s love is bigger than we conceived of it. God so loved the world. God so loved the cosmos—the universe. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” And God called it good. There were no humans to enjoy it at first and still it was good. God created the sun and stars and they were good, all on their own. God created animals, and God called them good. We are one little piece of God’s good creation and God delights in all of it. God wants us to lift up our eyes from the tunnel vision of “gimme, gimme, gimme.” God wants us to have so much more richness in our lives. God wants us to love God’s good creation, too, to share in the beauty of it, to enjoy it and appreciate it.
For the Israelites, Moses put a bronze serpent on a stick to get people to look up from their complaining and to put their hope in God. They had been wallowing in their own misery. Now they find themselves looking up. What might they have seen? They saw each other and what was going on in another person’s life. They saw animals—snakes and other of God’s creatures having their own struggles and joys. They surely saw mountains and the sky and clouds and the sun. By looking up, their minds got out of the tunnel vision rut and expanded their imagination and opened their minds to hope.
Some say the serpent on the pole was a precursor to the cross. It is pretty hard to complain when you look up and see Jesus on the cross. God doesn’t mind listening to our troubles. God knows what it is like to have troubles. See God there on the cross? God is walking with us in our troubles. God is feeling every ache and pain. God knows all about it.
But God knows all the joys of life, too, that sometimes we miss when we make an idol of ourselves and never look around. There is so much to appreciate! Spring is coming! The snow was beautiful this week. I get to live on this beautiful planet in this beautiful galaxy, in this gorgeous state. We have enough food and water. We can appreciate our pets. I have a healthy child.
Do I really need to focus my attention on getting more stuff, or can I look to the cross and see how Jesus gave himself away for the sake of this beautiful world so that all might have access to love, so that we might learn to sacrifice and not put ourselves first so that other might have basic necessities. If I don’t spend my money on Easter candy this year, which my baby doesn’t eat and I don’t need, maybe I could buy more groceries for the pantry. If I spent less time in front of the televisions, maybe I could have a meaningful experience helping someone who could use a hand.
Hope is an upward spiral. On our own, all we can be is selfish. But in our moping around, occasionally we come upon something like this pole or a cross or 10,000 trees and our eyes follow it up and we see beyond ourselves to the greater world. And our eyes meet the eyes of our neighbors and our hearts sing from the connections. And we forget ourselves and find hope and meaning in using our gifts to help others. And those connections feed us and lift us up so that we can feed others and lift them up. And we find our connections in other people, in animals and plants, in experiences, in connections we make, in just sitting back and enjoying God’s good creation. And in enjoying it, we want to preserve it and take care of it, to be good stewards and appreciators alongside God of all that God has made.
I don’t know if Victor is at all religious, but I would say he is one of God’s servants, whether he knows it or not. He plants the trees. He watches the seasons. He cares for the earth. He gets his family and friends to help him. He is hopeful. He keeps his head up. He is not thinking of himself. And let me add that he was 75 when he started this project, so it is never too late!
Paul writes, “For we are what he has made us.” We are also God’s good creation, made to praise him. Just as the trees clap their hands and the mountains bow before the LORD, we are made for hope. We are made to have life abundant and share it generously. We are what he has made us. Or as Vic says. “I just do what I am.”
Victor Kaufmann has planted 10,000 trees by hand on his property in the state of Washington in the last ten years. A couple of hundred years ago the land was wooded. It was logged and then used as pastureland and for growing oats. Vic is returning the land to its former state. He is sharing the good news with the earth. Birds are returning the area. The trees capture carbon in the air. The trees breathe it in and make oxygen. They clean the air of pollutants. “For God so loved the world…”
Often we humans have thought that the good news of God’s love is just for us. We have thought that we are the only ones who can praise God. We have seen ourselves as the pinnacle of creation. God saved the best for last.
The Israelites in Moses’ time got caught up in selfishness and self-worship, in their own aches and pains, in their complaining, in their desire for their favorite foods. They griped and complained when God saved them from slavery. They turned up their noses as the manna from heaven that God provided. They pitched a fit at every little setback they encountered.
Anyone who’s ever had kids, or nieces and nephews knows this ungrateful gripe. I saw my 12 year old niece cast her Christmas gift to the side with a sneer this year. I am guessing I probably didn’t get her what she wanted. I know I’m out of touch. I’ve been told what isn’t good enough about the food I make. Past middle-schoolers from this congregation have laughed at the car I drive and the clothes I wear. I know I have just brought a little person into this world who will someday be able to share his opinions about how I do things and don’t do things, just like I did to my parents as a teenager and am still prone to do now and then.
We’re all guilty of these shenanigans. I’m sorry to say not much has changed since the Old Testament. It is so easy to be selfish—I wanted that parking spot, why can’t that person see things my way, I should have what I want—this or that food or gadget, it is my way or the highway, my plans are so much more important than other people’s. We are arrogant. We put ourselves in the center, and isn’t that another form of idolatry?
We are self-centered, but God doesn’t want to punish us. I don’t believe that God sent snakes to bite people and kill them. Instead, isn’t it true that we provide poison enough? God wants us to see the poisonous attitudes for what they are because they hurt us the most. When I am selfish I tromp all over other people’s hopes and dreams. And when they are selfish, they might do the same to me. It is a matter of treating other people the way we want to be treated so that life is better for everyone.
God wants us to see something bigger than our personal preference. God wants us to look at the bigger picture like God does. “I lift my eyes unto the hills,” the Psalmist writes, “From whence my help comes.” When I look beyond my own little world, I see a whole beautiful universe that God created.
When you go for a walk outside, don’t you just feel that your troubles come into perspective? When you look up at the stars at night on one of these clear nights that we’ve had lately and you see the bright planets shining in the West, don’t you forget all your troubles? When you look down and see a little bug struggling along, don’t you feel a kinship with that creature—a shared experience of life? When you look into the eyes of another human being, whether at the pantry, or at the store, or at a friend’s, don’t you see a world at least as important, as deep, as joyful and as troubled, as yours?
In today’s Gospel reading we see that God’s love is bigger than we conceived of it. God so loved the world. God so loved the cosmos—the universe. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” And God called it good. There were no humans to enjoy it at first and still it was good. God created the sun and stars and they were good, all on their own. God created animals, and God called them good. We are one little piece of God’s good creation and God delights in all of it. God wants us to lift up our eyes from the tunnel vision of “gimme, gimme, gimme.” God wants us to have so much more richness in our lives. God wants us to love God’s good creation, too, to share in the beauty of it, to enjoy it and appreciate it.
For the Israelites, Moses put a bronze serpent on a stick to get people to look up from their complaining and to put their hope in God. They had been wallowing in their own misery. Now they find themselves looking up. What might they have seen? They saw each other and what was going on in another person’s life. They saw animals—snakes and other of God’s creatures having their own struggles and joys. They surely saw mountains and the sky and clouds and the sun. By looking up, their minds got out of the tunnel vision rut and expanded their imagination and opened their minds to hope.
Some say the serpent on the pole was a precursor to the cross. It is pretty hard to complain when you look up and see Jesus on the cross. God doesn’t mind listening to our troubles. God knows what it is like to have troubles. See God there on the cross? God is walking with us in our troubles. God is feeling every ache and pain. God knows all about it.
But God knows all the joys of life, too, that sometimes we miss when we make an idol of ourselves and never look around. There is so much to appreciate! Spring is coming! The snow was beautiful this week. I get to live on this beautiful planet in this beautiful galaxy, in this gorgeous state. We have enough food and water. We can appreciate our pets. I have a healthy child.
Do I really need to focus my attention on getting more stuff, or can I look to the cross and see how Jesus gave himself away for the sake of this beautiful world so that all might have access to love, so that we might learn to sacrifice and not put ourselves first so that other might have basic necessities. If I don’t spend my money on Easter candy this year, which my baby doesn’t eat and I don’t need, maybe I could buy more groceries for the pantry. If I spent less time in front of the televisions, maybe I could have a meaningful experience helping someone who could use a hand.
Hope is an upward spiral. On our own, all we can be is selfish. But in our moping around, occasionally we come upon something like this pole or a cross or 10,000 trees and our eyes follow it up and we see beyond ourselves to the greater world. And our eyes meet the eyes of our neighbors and our hearts sing from the connections. And we forget ourselves and find hope and meaning in using our gifts to help others. And those connections feed us and lift us up so that we can feed others and lift them up. And we find our connections in other people, in animals and plants, in experiences, in connections we make, in just sitting back and enjoying God’s good creation. And in enjoying it, we want to preserve it and take care of it, to be good stewards and appreciators alongside God of all that God has made.
I don’t know if Victor is at all religious, but I would say he is one of God’s servants, whether he knows it or not. He plants the trees. He watches the seasons. He cares for the earth. He gets his family and friends to help him. He is hopeful. He keeps his head up. He is not thinking of himself. And let me add that he was 75 when he started this project, so it is never too late!
Paul writes, “For we are what he has made us.” We are also God’s good creation, made to praise him. Just as the trees clap their hands and the mountains bow before the LORD, we are made for hope. We are made to have life abundant and share it generously. We are what he has made us. Or as Vic says. “I just do what I am.”
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Sermon for March 11, 2012
March 11, 2012 Gospel: John 2:13-22 Psalm 19
1st Reading: Exodus 20:1-17 2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:18-25
In our Lenten theme of returning, today is the day about returning to religion. This is different from returning to faith or returning to God. Religion has more to do with the structures in which we practice our faith. It has been set up before us by others trying to make sense of their faith and trying to express it. Right now it is popular to be “spiritual, but not religious.” I think most people are in touch with a spirituality—a higher power or God in creation. Religion often gets associated with something bad. It is the buildings and liturgies and power structures that we’re referring to when we speak of religion. Those things alone aren’t good or bad, on their own. It is how we use them that determines the good or bad. Institutions often have their own survival as a self interest which could interfere with the gospel which asks us to die. But we each decide for ourselves which religion we associate with if any and how much straying from Jesus’ intention we are willing to tolerate, because that is also part of being the church.
I want to suggest returning to religion for a couple of different reasons. We need to return to it constantly to evaluate it. We return to it sometimes to reclaim it and to recommit ourselves. We return to it to shape it in more helpful ways. We return to it to express our faith.
In the Gospel lesson for today Jesus returns to the temple, and he’s not too happy about what he finds. I don’t know what Jesus expected to find when he returned. Certainly he must have known what went on there. People are expected to make sacrifices to God. Maybe you didn’t have a lamb or a bird to sacrifice. You’d need to buy one. If you had Roman money it would have Caesar’s head on it and would say that Caesar is God. You couldn’t very well bring that to God’s temple, so you’d need to exchange it. This outer ring of the temple complex would have been a busy place, full of animals, maybe full of shouting and clinking. Maybe it sounded something like the New York stock exchange.
In the other Gospels, Jesus’ actions at the temple are the last straw that finally leads the authorities to arrest Jesus and take him away to be executed. In John’s Gospel, it happens right off the bat. It happens this way because Jesus is taking the place of the temple as the location of God in the world. In the past, if you wanted to be in God’s presence, with a few exceptions, you’d want to be in the temple. That was simply the connection place between the heavens and the earth. By the time John writes this Gospel, the temple has been destroyed, so he wants to make clear from the beginning of the story that the temple isn’t where it’s at anymore. Instead, he locates God in the temple of Jesus’ body.
Jesus goes to the temple. He sees that the temple isn’t “all that” anymore. For John’s readers, that might have been reassuring. Jesus is critical of what he sees. What started out as a very helpful and necessary marketplace has gotten out of hand. People have lost track of the reason for the temple, and that is God. Instead, they go to make a profit or take advantage of people. Or they go to show off that they can afford an expensive sacrifice and look down their noses at others. Or they go to show off their beautiful clothes or jewelry and look down at others. Everyone has forgotten that God is the reason for the temple. Jesus returns to set all that straight.
We might not “return” to religion if we never went away from it. But some of us have switched denominations in our search for something more true to the spirit of Jesus. In the switching there might be some healthy criticism of both the denomination you come from and the one you are joining. There is going to be no perfect religion. Religion is an imperfect expression of faith. It is going to have its flaws. Some we live with and others we can’t. We decide where to draw the line.
I have my beefs with Lutheranism, although I’m pretty proud to be a Lutheran on the whole. But I can’t let my association with Lutheranism keep me from criticizing it and hopefully making it better. I decided a long time ago that I could better reform it from within than from outside. Since we are a denomination of reform, we at least pay lip service to evaluation and reform and keeping our religion relevant and fresh. I suppose that is one of my criticisms is that we move so slowly, that reform is slow and difficult. I wish more people who had criticisms would stay and try to make it better because I see people who disagree getting discouraged and going elsewhere or getting fed up with religion in general and not worshiping anywhere.
But we criticize our religion because we love it. If we didn’t love it, we wouldn’t care enough to try to reform it. And we criticize it because we love God even more than we love religion. Where religion is not reflecting the love of God, it has to go. But unfortunately that hasn’t been the case. Christianity has loved other things than God. It has loved status and wealth. It’s pastors and priests have loved privilege. Its ladies groups have loved gossip. These idols of the church have given us a bad name. When people hear about Christians, they think of child molesters and those who try to protect them. They think of hypocrites and people who spew hate. We haven’t been very successful in returning to religion and making it the loving place that it was intended to be where we could connect with God and each other and be empowered to serve our neighbor in need.
Jesus returns to the temple to reclaim his religion. Even though what he sees there makes him mad, he remembers what his religion has meant to him throughout his life and he reclaims it. It looks a little different than it did before. Rather than his religion being a bunch of outward acts, like making sacrifices, going to prayers, practicing Sabbath, etc., he realizes that it is within him. God is not about outward acts, but is within each of us. God is not far away. God is nearer to us than we are to ourselves. God is in every leaf, every drop of rain, every hello or goodbye, in every stranger and friend, not just in a temple or a church building. So Jesus recommits himself to his religion in a new way and now in this Gospel he is going to take that message of love out and share it with people he meets, by respecting them and sharing and caring and loving. He isn’t going to stop keeping the Sabbath. But he will observe with a renewed understanding of what it means and what it is for, rather than it being an empty ritual. By returning to his religion and reclaiming it, it is renewed for him and for all of us.
Martin Luther also returned to his religion, when it wasn’t working for him. He was a monk, so he hadn’t exactly strayed from his religion. But he returned to God’s word and tried to understand from reading the Bible why his religion wasn’t working for him. He found inconsistencies between his religion and what the Bible said and so he criticized his religion and found a deeper sense of faith. When he tried to take what he had learned and reform his religion, that was unwelcome so here were are!
Jesus gives us permission in the Gospel to return to our religious roots and take a long, hard look. We can look at it through the eyes of a stranger or outsider. We can look at it to see if it makes sense if we hadn’t always done it that way. We can look at it to see if it matches the God of love that we know and if now to see how we can better reflect that.
1st Reading: Exodus 20:1-17 2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:18-25
In our Lenten theme of returning, today is the day about returning to religion. This is different from returning to faith or returning to God. Religion has more to do with the structures in which we practice our faith. It has been set up before us by others trying to make sense of their faith and trying to express it. Right now it is popular to be “spiritual, but not religious.” I think most people are in touch with a spirituality—a higher power or God in creation. Religion often gets associated with something bad. It is the buildings and liturgies and power structures that we’re referring to when we speak of religion. Those things alone aren’t good or bad, on their own. It is how we use them that determines the good or bad. Institutions often have their own survival as a self interest which could interfere with the gospel which asks us to die. But we each decide for ourselves which religion we associate with if any and how much straying from Jesus’ intention we are willing to tolerate, because that is also part of being the church.
I want to suggest returning to religion for a couple of different reasons. We need to return to it constantly to evaluate it. We return to it sometimes to reclaim it and to recommit ourselves. We return to it to shape it in more helpful ways. We return to it to express our faith.
In the Gospel lesson for today Jesus returns to the temple, and he’s not too happy about what he finds. I don’t know what Jesus expected to find when he returned. Certainly he must have known what went on there. People are expected to make sacrifices to God. Maybe you didn’t have a lamb or a bird to sacrifice. You’d need to buy one. If you had Roman money it would have Caesar’s head on it and would say that Caesar is God. You couldn’t very well bring that to God’s temple, so you’d need to exchange it. This outer ring of the temple complex would have been a busy place, full of animals, maybe full of shouting and clinking. Maybe it sounded something like the New York stock exchange.
In the other Gospels, Jesus’ actions at the temple are the last straw that finally leads the authorities to arrest Jesus and take him away to be executed. In John’s Gospel, it happens right off the bat. It happens this way because Jesus is taking the place of the temple as the location of God in the world. In the past, if you wanted to be in God’s presence, with a few exceptions, you’d want to be in the temple. That was simply the connection place between the heavens and the earth. By the time John writes this Gospel, the temple has been destroyed, so he wants to make clear from the beginning of the story that the temple isn’t where it’s at anymore. Instead, he locates God in the temple of Jesus’ body.
Jesus goes to the temple. He sees that the temple isn’t “all that” anymore. For John’s readers, that might have been reassuring. Jesus is critical of what he sees. What started out as a very helpful and necessary marketplace has gotten out of hand. People have lost track of the reason for the temple, and that is God. Instead, they go to make a profit or take advantage of people. Or they go to show off that they can afford an expensive sacrifice and look down their noses at others. Or they go to show off their beautiful clothes or jewelry and look down at others. Everyone has forgotten that God is the reason for the temple. Jesus returns to set all that straight.
We might not “return” to religion if we never went away from it. But some of us have switched denominations in our search for something more true to the spirit of Jesus. In the switching there might be some healthy criticism of both the denomination you come from and the one you are joining. There is going to be no perfect religion. Religion is an imperfect expression of faith. It is going to have its flaws. Some we live with and others we can’t. We decide where to draw the line.
I have my beefs with Lutheranism, although I’m pretty proud to be a Lutheran on the whole. But I can’t let my association with Lutheranism keep me from criticizing it and hopefully making it better. I decided a long time ago that I could better reform it from within than from outside. Since we are a denomination of reform, we at least pay lip service to evaluation and reform and keeping our religion relevant and fresh. I suppose that is one of my criticisms is that we move so slowly, that reform is slow and difficult. I wish more people who had criticisms would stay and try to make it better because I see people who disagree getting discouraged and going elsewhere or getting fed up with religion in general and not worshiping anywhere.
But we criticize our religion because we love it. If we didn’t love it, we wouldn’t care enough to try to reform it. And we criticize it because we love God even more than we love religion. Where religion is not reflecting the love of God, it has to go. But unfortunately that hasn’t been the case. Christianity has loved other things than God. It has loved status and wealth. It’s pastors and priests have loved privilege. Its ladies groups have loved gossip. These idols of the church have given us a bad name. When people hear about Christians, they think of child molesters and those who try to protect them. They think of hypocrites and people who spew hate. We haven’t been very successful in returning to religion and making it the loving place that it was intended to be where we could connect with God and each other and be empowered to serve our neighbor in need.
Jesus returns to the temple to reclaim his religion. Even though what he sees there makes him mad, he remembers what his religion has meant to him throughout his life and he reclaims it. It looks a little different than it did before. Rather than his religion being a bunch of outward acts, like making sacrifices, going to prayers, practicing Sabbath, etc., he realizes that it is within him. God is not about outward acts, but is within each of us. God is not far away. God is nearer to us than we are to ourselves. God is in every leaf, every drop of rain, every hello or goodbye, in every stranger and friend, not just in a temple or a church building. So Jesus recommits himself to his religion in a new way and now in this Gospel he is going to take that message of love out and share it with people he meets, by respecting them and sharing and caring and loving. He isn’t going to stop keeping the Sabbath. But he will observe with a renewed understanding of what it means and what it is for, rather than it being an empty ritual. By returning to his religion and reclaiming it, it is renewed for him and for all of us.
Martin Luther also returned to his religion, when it wasn’t working for him. He was a monk, so he hadn’t exactly strayed from his religion. But he returned to God’s word and tried to understand from reading the Bible why his religion wasn’t working for him. He found inconsistencies between his religion and what the Bible said and so he criticized his religion and found a deeper sense of faith. When he tried to take what he had learned and reform his religion, that was unwelcome so here were are!
Jesus gives us permission in the Gospel to return to our religious roots and take a long, hard look. We can look at it through the eyes of a stranger or outsider. We can look at it to see if it makes sense if we hadn’t always done it that way. We can look at it to see if it matches the God of love that we know and if now to see how we can better reflect that.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Sermon for March 4, 2012
March 4, 2012 Gospel: Mark 8:31-38 Psalm 22:23-31
1st Reading: Genesis 17:1-7; 15-16 2nd Reading: Romans 4:13-25
“Wherever two or more are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” No, we did not hear these words in any of today’s readings, yet they apply, because anytime two or more are gathered, you’ll have at least that many opinions and the opportunity for conflict. In fact, the next verse after this one from Matthew, Peter asks Jesus how many times he must forgive his neighbor.
In this morning’s Gospel readings, Peter and Jesus have a disagreement. They have a difference of opinion on what Jesus’ role should be and how his life should play out. They have a fight.
There may be nothing that terrifies congregations more than conflict. I recently attended a training called “Transforming Church Conflict” and got more than a few funny looks when I said I planned to go and invited the council to attend with me. Church conflict? Here?
A lot of how we each deal with conflict, has to do with how we learned to deal with it growing up. I don’t want to generalize too much, but if we look at the Scandanavian way of handling conflict, a category that a good number of members of King of Kings fall into—we know this group tends to be on the reserved side, showing little emotion. Think if you grew up in a colder climate, stuck indoors for months on end, you’d probably find a way to avoid conflict just to get through. Those patterns get passed down. I’ve learned German stubbornness or else it is in my DNA. I like to be right. But I also grew up in an abusive house, so conflict is a very scary thing to me, because it can end up in physical injury. We all have different experiences of conflict that affect how we see it and what we do when we are in it.
Doesn’t this just make you so curious to know more about Jesus’ family of origin dealing with their conflicts? Jesus doesn’t shy away from conflict. In fact, he seems to pick fights. He says what is on his mind. He is self-assured. He doesn’t let things fester. And yet, for Jesus, a conflict is just part of life. He doesn’t push anyone away from him because of a conflict. He is just as loving and kind after he argues with you as before.
This workshop that I attended with Winston and Mary, reminded us that conflict is not failure. We often think of it that way. Jesus said we are to be peacemakers, why can’t I get along with so and so? Many of us will do almost anything to avoid conflict—even lie. We just “smile and nod,” right? We listen, then ignore. We pretend to agree with people just so we don’t have to get into it with them.
Another reason we see conflict as failure is because we think in conflicts there must be winners and losers, right and wrong. Especially in the political climate we’re in, we see those with one opinion vilifying those with a different opinion, making the other side out to be monsters. We don’t see a lot of healthy conflict resolution playing out in the media. Where do we get healthy role models for conflict? None jump readily to mind. We may need to seek them out so that we as Christians can help model that.
We learned at the workshop that rather than being a failure, conflict is a result of the wonderful variety that God made amongst people. We vary in ways that we can see, such as age and gender. But most of the ways we vary are hidden, like the way we handled conflict growing up, our profession, our wealth, our status in the congregation. It would be boring if we were all alike, and because we’re different, we will see things differently and disagree about them.
Let’s look again at this argument in the Gospel. Peter and Jesus had a difference of opinion. Jesus is saying things that the disciples don’t want to hear about what is going to happen to him. Peter says, “Jesus, don’t talk like that!” It is wonderful that Peter and Jesus have a strong enough relationship that Peter feels that he can share his views. Think if Peter kept those feelings to himself. They would just grow stronger. Maybe he’d have trouble sleeping or get an ulcer. Maybe he’d go to the other disciples and start complaining about Jesus. There are a lot of unhealthy things that could happen. But Peter feels the relationship is strong enough that he can say what is on his mind.
Next Jesus turns to all the disciples. He knows that what one is thinking, likely several of them are thinking. When Peter contradicts Jesus, he isn’t just speaking for himself but he’s expressing what others are also thinking. In the same way, when you have a question about something here at church, there is no need to feel shy about bringing it up. Maybe you feel stupid, like you’re the only one who doesn’t know why we do things a certain way or what a lectern is. Or sometimes just asking the question of why might seem like an attack in itself, when it is really just curiosity. I invite you to ask those questions. There are likely others who have the same question. And if you have a different opinion, there are probably others who do, too, and by bringing it up you are helping a whole group of people give voice to another point of view. And if we are doing something just because that is the way we’ve always done it and it is inefficient or counterproductive, it might be time to change it for the good of the community. Ask the questions, not just for yourself but for the sake of others.
Sometimes conflict feels like the end of the world. But after this conflict, Jesus and the disciples don’t break up. They continue in relationship and ministry together. There are many other times the disciples don’t get it, but they keep working at the relationship and learning from their disagreements and interactions and we know that Peter eventually does get it since he goes and spreads the good news after Jesus’ death and resurrection and eventually becomes a martyr. If they never brought up their differences, they might never have the chance to learn from one another and from Jesus and grow in their faith and maturity and understanding.
This congregation has experienced some pretty difficult conflicts over the years and even more recently we’ve faced differences of opinion among us and poor communication that has led to misunderstandings. This congregation is not immune from conflict. The better we can understand what is happening when we go through conflict, the better we can learn and grow from it, rather than it pulling us apart. In thinking of a conflict a few years ago, the council evaluated what we could have done better and created a policy so that we would better communicate in the future. I don’t want to sound naïve, but there are ways we can all win, when we experience conflict, and that is when we learn something about ourselves and those with whom we disagree. When you come through a healthy conflict experience, often you’ll find a deeper bond. A strong friendship transcends the differences between us and will last through even the toughest difficulties.
In the Old Testament Reading for today, God enters into a covenant with Abraham. It is an agreement between the two, almost like a marriage. God will be God to Abraham and his many descendents and they will be God’s people. Yet God and Abraham are very different. They are going to disagree. Abraham will make many mistakes, but that will never come between them and their relationship. They are going to keep working at this relationship, no matter what trying times come. Abraham will disagree with God and he will let his opinion be known. God will disagree with Abraham and let him know. Yet they will continue to be in relationship with one another and they will build a common story together that will bind them closer together in relationship.
Sometimes when we disagree, it seems like everything is out of balance. However, our unity must go beyond our differences, because the source of it is God. Think of God who made each of us and loves us all. We are all made and loved by the same God who wants to be in relationship with us and wants us to be in relationship with each other. We have our savior Jesus who was constantly teaching the disciples to be among those different from themselves—children, lepers, women, those of different religious affiliations, foreigners, tax collectors. He knew the value in exposing yourself to all different kinds of people, that it helped you know who you are and what is important to you, it helped you to see beyond yourself to the needs of others, it helped you to learn and grow as a person, it helped your relationship with God who is also different from us, and it helps to grow God’s Kingdom (otherwise known as “kin-dom,” or relationship), God’s web of relationship and love that no one is outside of.
So, your council is a little better prepared to deal with conflict. We’re still practicing and won’t be perfect, but if you help us practice we will learn to use the skills from this workshop. We’ll encourage you to speak up. We’ll help assemble the different voices so that people can weigh in. We’ll encourage the sharing of stories so that we can understand more deeply where each other is coming from. We’ll affirm the unity we do have, even when we disagree. And we’ll try to learn and help the community learn and grow in love and relationship to one another and to God just like God’s people have throughout the ages. Let us return to community and relationship so that we can serve God together despite our beautiful differences.
Jesus didn’t argue just to be difficult. He stood firm about justice for the poor, food for the hungry, and help for the sick and imprisoned. Because he stood up for those who were hurting, he butted heads with those who liked the system as it stood and he gave his life, making sure that everyone had access to life abundant.
1st Reading: Genesis 17:1-7; 15-16 2nd Reading: Romans 4:13-25
“Wherever two or more are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” No, we did not hear these words in any of today’s readings, yet they apply, because anytime two or more are gathered, you’ll have at least that many opinions and the opportunity for conflict. In fact, the next verse after this one from Matthew, Peter asks Jesus how many times he must forgive his neighbor.
In this morning’s Gospel readings, Peter and Jesus have a disagreement. They have a difference of opinion on what Jesus’ role should be and how his life should play out. They have a fight.
There may be nothing that terrifies congregations more than conflict. I recently attended a training called “Transforming Church Conflict” and got more than a few funny looks when I said I planned to go and invited the council to attend with me. Church conflict? Here?
A lot of how we each deal with conflict, has to do with how we learned to deal with it growing up. I don’t want to generalize too much, but if we look at the Scandanavian way of handling conflict, a category that a good number of members of King of Kings fall into—we know this group tends to be on the reserved side, showing little emotion. Think if you grew up in a colder climate, stuck indoors for months on end, you’d probably find a way to avoid conflict just to get through. Those patterns get passed down. I’ve learned German stubbornness or else it is in my DNA. I like to be right. But I also grew up in an abusive house, so conflict is a very scary thing to me, because it can end up in physical injury. We all have different experiences of conflict that affect how we see it and what we do when we are in it.
Doesn’t this just make you so curious to know more about Jesus’ family of origin dealing with their conflicts? Jesus doesn’t shy away from conflict. In fact, he seems to pick fights. He says what is on his mind. He is self-assured. He doesn’t let things fester. And yet, for Jesus, a conflict is just part of life. He doesn’t push anyone away from him because of a conflict. He is just as loving and kind after he argues with you as before.
This workshop that I attended with Winston and Mary, reminded us that conflict is not failure. We often think of it that way. Jesus said we are to be peacemakers, why can’t I get along with so and so? Many of us will do almost anything to avoid conflict—even lie. We just “smile and nod,” right? We listen, then ignore. We pretend to agree with people just so we don’t have to get into it with them.
Another reason we see conflict as failure is because we think in conflicts there must be winners and losers, right and wrong. Especially in the political climate we’re in, we see those with one opinion vilifying those with a different opinion, making the other side out to be monsters. We don’t see a lot of healthy conflict resolution playing out in the media. Where do we get healthy role models for conflict? None jump readily to mind. We may need to seek them out so that we as Christians can help model that.
We learned at the workshop that rather than being a failure, conflict is a result of the wonderful variety that God made amongst people. We vary in ways that we can see, such as age and gender. But most of the ways we vary are hidden, like the way we handled conflict growing up, our profession, our wealth, our status in the congregation. It would be boring if we were all alike, and because we’re different, we will see things differently and disagree about them.
Let’s look again at this argument in the Gospel. Peter and Jesus had a difference of opinion. Jesus is saying things that the disciples don’t want to hear about what is going to happen to him. Peter says, “Jesus, don’t talk like that!” It is wonderful that Peter and Jesus have a strong enough relationship that Peter feels that he can share his views. Think if Peter kept those feelings to himself. They would just grow stronger. Maybe he’d have trouble sleeping or get an ulcer. Maybe he’d go to the other disciples and start complaining about Jesus. There are a lot of unhealthy things that could happen. But Peter feels the relationship is strong enough that he can say what is on his mind.
Next Jesus turns to all the disciples. He knows that what one is thinking, likely several of them are thinking. When Peter contradicts Jesus, he isn’t just speaking for himself but he’s expressing what others are also thinking. In the same way, when you have a question about something here at church, there is no need to feel shy about bringing it up. Maybe you feel stupid, like you’re the only one who doesn’t know why we do things a certain way or what a lectern is. Or sometimes just asking the question of why might seem like an attack in itself, when it is really just curiosity. I invite you to ask those questions. There are likely others who have the same question. And if you have a different opinion, there are probably others who do, too, and by bringing it up you are helping a whole group of people give voice to another point of view. And if we are doing something just because that is the way we’ve always done it and it is inefficient or counterproductive, it might be time to change it for the good of the community. Ask the questions, not just for yourself but for the sake of others.
Sometimes conflict feels like the end of the world. But after this conflict, Jesus and the disciples don’t break up. They continue in relationship and ministry together. There are many other times the disciples don’t get it, but they keep working at the relationship and learning from their disagreements and interactions and we know that Peter eventually does get it since he goes and spreads the good news after Jesus’ death and resurrection and eventually becomes a martyr. If they never brought up their differences, they might never have the chance to learn from one another and from Jesus and grow in their faith and maturity and understanding.
This congregation has experienced some pretty difficult conflicts over the years and even more recently we’ve faced differences of opinion among us and poor communication that has led to misunderstandings. This congregation is not immune from conflict. The better we can understand what is happening when we go through conflict, the better we can learn and grow from it, rather than it pulling us apart. In thinking of a conflict a few years ago, the council evaluated what we could have done better and created a policy so that we would better communicate in the future. I don’t want to sound naïve, but there are ways we can all win, when we experience conflict, and that is when we learn something about ourselves and those with whom we disagree. When you come through a healthy conflict experience, often you’ll find a deeper bond. A strong friendship transcends the differences between us and will last through even the toughest difficulties.
In the Old Testament Reading for today, God enters into a covenant with Abraham. It is an agreement between the two, almost like a marriage. God will be God to Abraham and his many descendents and they will be God’s people. Yet God and Abraham are very different. They are going to disagree. Abraham will make many mistakes, but that will never come between them and their relationship. They are going to keep working at this relationship, no matter what trying times come. Abraham will disagree with God and he will let his opinion be known. God will disagree with Abraham and let him know. Yet they will continue to be in relationship with one another and they will build a common story together that will bind them closer together in relationship.
Sometimes when we disagree, it seems like everything is out of balance. However, our unity must go beyond our differences, because the source of it is God. Think of God who made each of us and loves us all. We are all made and loved by the same God who wants to be in relationship with us and wants us to be in relationship with each other. We have our savior Jesus who was constantly teaching the disciples to be among those different from themselves—children, lepers, women, those of different religious affiliations, foreigners, tax collectors. He knew the value in exposing yourself to all different kinds of people, that it helped you know who you are and what is important to you, it helped you to see beyond yourself to the needs of others, it helped you to learn and grow as a person, it helped your relationship with God who is also different from us, and it helps to grow God’s Kingdom (otherwise known as “kin-dom,” or relationship), God’s web of relationship and love that no one is outside of.
So, your council is a little better prepared to deal with conflict. We’re still practicing and won’t be perfect, but if you help us practice we will learn to use the skills from this workshop. We’ll encourage you to speak up. We’ll help assemble the different voices so that people can weigh in. We’ll encourage the sharing of stories so that we can understand more deeply where each other is coming from. We’ll affirm the unity we do have, even when we disagree. And we’ll try to learn and help the community learn and grow in love and relationship to one another and to God just like God’s people have throughout the ages. Let us return to community and relationship so that we can serve God together despite our beautiful differences.
Jesus didn’t argue just to be difficult. He stood firm about justice for the poor, food for the hungry, and help for the sick and imprisoned. Because he stood up for those who were hurting, he butted heads with those who liked the system as it stood and he gave his life, making sure that everyone had access to life abundant.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
February 26, 2012 Gospel: Mark 1:9-15 1st Reading: Genesis 9:8-17
Psalm 25:1-10 2nd Reading: 1 Peter 3:18-22
Last year, hundreds of thousands of people from around the world watched the Decorah Eagle Cam—a camera system set up next to an eagle’s nest to monitor a breeding pair of eagles and broadcast it on the internet, day and night. There were so many people watching on the day the eggs hatched and on the days the adolescent eagles sat out further and further on the branches getting their nerve up to try to fly that the site crashed several times. Many of us watched the mother and father eagles as they sat on their eggs, the three eaglets as they were born and through their development over the months, and then many of us tuned in again as they prepared to leave the nest.
There would be many tests ahead for the little eagles that the cameras would never see. They would test the wind on their wings. They would be challenged to find food and catch it. They would encounter predators and people and cars and pollution. They would be challenged to find a mate and build a nest and start a family of their own.
When I went to the website to prepare this sermon, I found out the mother eagle is getting ready to lay more eggs, so we can watch another year.
I see this morning’s Gospel reading as Jesus’ experience of being ushered out of the nest. He goes from being unknown for the most part. He is in the safety of the nest. He is feeling and knowing in his core where he belongs and who he is—he even hears it in his baptism that he is God’s beloved Child and that God is pleased with him.
That happy moment of calm and contentment doesn’t last. Jesus immediately goes out into the desert to be tempted—I’d rather use the word tested, like the eagles are tested. And it isn’t that God is testing Jesus, but that life will test him. Mark doesn’t go into what exactly the tests were, like the other Gospel writers. I bet we could fill in the blanks from our own lives.
When a child is baptized, it can be easy to focus on the protection of baptism. It sometimes gets used as an insurance policy to make sure that people will go to heaven. It is a moment when that child is assured that he or she belongs to God. Wouldn’t it be nice to freeze everything in that moment? But that child is a part of our broken world. There will be many twists and turns in the child’s life—many tests—and that is why it is especially important for that person to have heard that they belong to God and be reminded of it by family and community and be equipped in the faith to handle the tests that will come. Godparents promise to place in the child’s hands the Holy Scriptures and to teach him the Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments. The community agrees to support the child and the family.
None of us can live that protected life. It would pretty boring anyway! All of these things are put into place on that day of baptism to build a strong support system around that little person so that when he does come to a time of temptation or testing or trouble, he has the systems in place to help him navigate. There will be times when he will be away from all those support systems and we hope that he will have received messages growing up that help him when he feels he’s all alone in the world.
That’s why today my theme is “Returning to the Self.” Eagles are a good example of this. They have a reputation of going it alone. You don’t see a flock of eagles. They don’t fly in formation. They are mainly solitary creatures.
We aren’t solitary creatures. Humans tend to gather in groups. Some of us are more social than others. No matter how social we are or aren’t, there are going to be times we need to be able to go it alone. We need time alone and away from other people to really know who we are. We need times of silence to listen to God’s voice and to sort out all the voices that rattle around in our heads to decide which ones are worth listening to and which ones are telling lies and trying to damage us.
That is why I am encouraging you to take some time for yourself for lent. We get so busy, some of us might go for days without spending time alone. Or if we are alone, we might spend that time watching TV or playing Sudoku. I invite you to let yourself just be alone. It is probably going to feel awkward at first. It is going to take some time to get used to, to quiet your mind from going over everything else you have to do. It isn’t that you can’t be doing anything at all. I find gardening and sewing to be especially good activities to do in solitude, to quiet my mind, to pray, to listen to my dreams, to listen to God, to remember who I am. I would guess fishing would be a similar experience.
And it isn’t that you don’t think any thoughts, during this time, since that is nearly impossible. You could go through a list of everything you’re thankful for. You can go over a mental list of goals and dreams. What else would you yet like to accomplish in your lifetime? How might you move forward on your goals? You can go over your regrets—what wounds still remain? What amends need to be made? Where might you be able to forgive yourself or another? What can you let go of? What do you need to say that you haven’t said? You can let your mind wander, taking note of the images and thoughts that cross your mind. You can wonder about God’s purpose for your life and what that might look like. You can look at yourself through the eyes of yourself as a child. What would your child self say to your current self?
Some of us might feel selfish taking some time for ourselves. Aren’t we supposed to spend our lives helping others?
It is crucial for us to center ourselves and to remember who we are and what our priorities are. How can we help others if we haven’t been able to help ourselves? How do we have anything to give others if we don’t take care of ourselves? . I always think, too, that when I take my day off, I am setting an example for others, that is it okay to practice good self care. Maybe your loved ones will see you taking that time and remember to do the same for themselves. Jesus took time for himself. He spent those forty days in the wilderness, essentially alone, to learn that he was God’s beloved Son, not just in that moment of baptismal blessing, but in trials and temptations, too. In that desert, nothing could hide. The sun shown down bright on all Jesus’ insecurities and failures. The sound of his empty, rumbling stomach called for him to use his power to serve himself. Day after day of no one to talk to must have made him doubt his relationships, his importance. And yet he came through it, ready for ministry, ready to heal, ready to love. He was assured that no matter what he faced, he would always be God’s precious child
Just like the eaglets, Jesus takes flight in today’s Gospel. He soars through the sky. He meets his tests with courage. Eventually he comes up against a test he cannot survive, a trap set for him because of the broken world we live in that can’t handle such a wide and gracious love, such a creature of beauty soaring so high. And Jesus breathes his last and gives up his spirit. But Jesus is pure love, which cannot die, and he rises to give love and life to all creation so that we can share it with one another, so we can live in love for all eternity know that we also are God’s precious children.
Psalm 25:1-10 2nd Reading: 1 Peter 3:18-22
Last year, hundreds of thousands of people from around the world watched the Decorah Eagle Cam—a camera system set up next to an eagle’s nest to monitor a breeding pair of eagles and broadcast it on the internet, day and night. There were so many people watching on the day the eggs hatched and on the days the adolescent eagles sat out further and further on the branches getting their nerve up to try to fly that the site crashed several times. Many of us watched the mother and father eagles as they sat on their eggs, the three eaglets as they were born and through their development over the months, and then many of us tuned in again as they prepared to leave the nest.
There would be many tests ahead for the little eagles that the cameras would never see. They would test the wind on their wings. They would be challenged to find food and catch it. They would encounter predators and people and cars and pollution. They would be challenged to find a mate and build a nest and start a family of their own.
When I went to the website to prepare this sermon, I found out the mother eagle is getting ready to lay more eggs, so we can watch another year.
I see this morning’s Gospel reading as Jesus’ experience of being ushered out of the nest. He goes from being unknown for the most part. He is in the safety of the nest. He is feeling and knowing in his core where he belongs and who he is—he even hears it in his baptism that he is God’s beloved Child and that God is pleased with him.
That happy moment of calm and contentment doesn’t last. Jesus immediately goes out into the desert to be tempted—I’d rather use the word tested, like the eagles are tested. And it isn’t that God is testing Jesus, but that life will test him. Mark doesn’t go into what exactly the tests were, like the other Gospel writers. I bet we could fill in the blanks from our own lives.
When a child is baptized, it can be easy to focus on the protection of baptism. It sometimes gets used as an insurance policy to make sure that people will go to heaven. It is a moment when that child is assured that he or she belongs to God. Wouldn’t it be nice to freeze everything in that moment? But that child is a part of our broken world. There will be many twists and turns in the child’s life—many tests—and that is why it is especially important for that person to have heard that they belong to God and be reminded of it by family and community and be equipped in the faith to handle the tests that will come. Godparents promise to place in the child’s hands the Holy Scriptures and to teach him the Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments. The community agrees to support the child and the family.
None of us can live that protected life. It would pretty boring anyway! All of these things are put into place on that day of baptism to build a strong support system around that little person so that when he does come to a time of temptation or testing or trouble, he has the systems in place to help him navigate. There will be times when he will be away from all those support systems and we hope that he will have received messages growing up that help him when he feels he’s all alone in the world.
That’s why today my theme is “Returning to the Self.” Eagles are a good example of this. They have a reputation of going it alone. You don’t see a flock of eagles. They don’t fly in formation. They are mainly solitary creatures.
We aren’t solitary creatures. Humans tend to gather in groups. Some of us are more social than others. No matter how social we are or aren’t, there are going to be times we need to be able to go it alone. We need time alone and away from other people to really know who we are. We need times of silence to listen to God’s voice and to sort out all the voices that rattle around in our heads to decide which ones are worth listening to and which ones are telling lies and trying to damage us.
That is why I am encouraging you to take some time for yourself for lent. We get so busy, some of us might go for days without spending time alone. Or if we are alone, we might spend that time watching TV or playing Sudoku. I invite you to let yourself just be alone. It is probably going to feel awkward at first. It is going to take some time to get used to, to quiet your mind from going over everything else you have to do. It isn’t that you can’t be doing anything at all. I find gardening and sewing to be especially good activities to do in solitude, to quiet my mind, to pray, to listen to my dreams, to listen to God, to remember who I am. I would guess fishing would be a similar experience.
And it isn’t that you don’t think any thoughts, during this time, since that is nearly impossible. You could go through a list of everything you’re thankful for. You can go over a mental list of goals and dreams. What else would you yet like to accomplish in your lifetime? How might you move forward on your goals? You can go over your regrets—what wounds still remain? What amends need to be made? Where might you be able to forgive yourself or another? What can you let go of? What do you need to say that you haven’t said? You can let your mind wander, taking note of the images and thoughts that cross your mind. You can wonder about God’s purpose for your life and what that might look like. You can look at yourself through the eyes of yourself as a child. What would your child self say to your current self?
Some of us might feel selfish taking some time for ourselves. Aren’t we supposed to spend our lives helping others?
It is crucial for us to center ourselves and to remember who we are and what our priorities are. How can we help others if we haven’t been able to help ourselves? How do we have anything to give others if we don’t take care of ourselves? . I always think, too, that when I take my day off, I am setting an example for others, that is it okay to practice good self care. Maybe your loved ones will see you taking that time and remember to do the same for themselves. Jesus took time for himself. He spent those forty days in the wilderness, essentially alone, to learn that he was God’s beloved Son, not just in that moment of baptismal blessing, but in trials and temptations, too. In that desert, nothing could hide. The sun shown down bright on all Jesus’ insecurities and failures. The sound of his empty, rumbling stomach called for him to use his power to serve himself. Day after day of no one to talk to must have made him doubt his relationships, his importance. And yet he came through it, ready for ministry, ready to heal, ready to love. He was assured that no matter what he faced, he would always be God’s precious child
Just like the eaglets, Jesus takes flight in today’s Gospel. He soars through the sky. He meets his tests with courage. Eventually he comes up against a test he cannot survive, a trap set for him because of the broken world we live in that can’t handle such a wide and gracious love, such a creature of beauty soaring so high. And Jesus breathes his last and gives up his spirit. But Jesus is pure love, which cannot die, and he rises to give love and life to all creation so that we can share it with one another, so we can live in love for all eternity know that we also are God’s precious children.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Sermon for February 19, 2012
February 19, 2012 Gospel: Mark 9:2-9 1st Reading: 2 Kings 2:1-12
Psalm 50:1-6 2nd Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:3-6
When I was growing up, since there were no VCRs, we looked forward to watching the Wizard of Oz once a year on television around Thanksgiving or Christmas time. We always watched so closely during the part when Dorothy goes from the inside of her house into the land of Oz, when the film goes from black and white to color. We’d watch with anticipation through the whole first part of that film, eager to see the colorful costumes of the munchkins, the vivid lollipops, and of course, the yellow brick road! What an exciting transition that was! I’m going to call that the Transfiguration moment of the Wizard of Oz.
And that moment “colors” the rest of film. There are the red apples and poppies, the Emerald city, the green witch, the horse of a different color, and the Ruby Slippers. I don’t know if this film could have been made without color, it is so crucial to the characters and plot. If the whole film had been in color, it would not have been so dramatic, but that moment of transition makes you realize how special it is to get to see all the colors.
When we go through transitions, it can be disorienting. Sometimes it is that our eyes are opened to what was right there in front of us. Sometimes something new comes into view and changes how we see everything after that. In those transfiguration moments, we are changed, our view is changed, and we’ll never be the same.
Maybe you’ve sat with someone who was dying and held their hand. Those are holy Transfiguration moments, and you will never be the same after that experience. The same goes of being at a birth. It changes you forever. Or maybe you’ve had a religious experience, seen an angel, or heard the voice of God. Or if you’ve overcome addiction or come through a serious illness, you know what transfiguration is. Sometimes it is a moment of seeing something beautiful in nature—a mountain shining in the sun, a fall tree on fire with the sun blazing through the leaves, a formation of clouds so dramatic and stunning—when that image sticks with you for the rest of your life and colors how you see the world around you.
Peter stood in that moment and was disoriented, as we all are in moments like that. At this transfiguration, this disorienting moment, he sought to orient himself and try to steady himself. He was trying to make sense of this holy experience. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he wanted to capture this moment forever. That’s why he suggested building some tents for Moses, Elijah, and God and keep them all there. That’s the thing about transitions, they don’t last. They are a link between the past and present, moving us from one to other.
We could see this transition a couple of different ways. We could see Jesus as replacing Moses and Elijah. We could see this as Jesus getting the approval of those important people who came before: His story a continuation of what they had started. We could see this story as providing a vision of what is to come, giving hope for a future when God’s glory will be revealed.
Immediately after this Jesus is making a bee-line for Jerusalem, where he will be arrested and killed. This moment of seeing where he came from, and being reminded that he is God’s beloved son, would sustain him for what he was about to face: the cross, great suffering, rejection, and the grave. The disciples, too, will face a very difficult time. Maybe that vision will sustain them, too. In a way, the Transfiguration gives a glimpse of the end of the story that gives strength to get through the hardest part.
In the same way, the transfigurations we experience, those holy moments when we are reminded that we are God’s and God is with us, can give us the push we need to go do what needs to be done, the strength to move forward to face difficulties that we must encounter, and to move into the future with hope, and to be bearers of God’s Kingdom into this world. We know the end of the story, that we are God’s and God has the last loving word, so everything else no matter how hard can be seen as leading to that good outcome of new and abundant life.
I was wondering who might be the Moses and Elijah of our congregation, who we might picture as the matriarchs and patriarchs of our community and what they would say to us about our future. Maybe it would be Lovetta and John Wittrich and maybe John Morris. What if they suddenly materialized out of thin air here in the sanctuary? What would they say to us? Would we invite them to pull up a chair and stay a while and get them a cup of coffee? Do we see our forefathers and matriarchs casting a vision of what will be, urging us on to be who we need to be in this changing world and that it is okay to go to the cross, to take risks for the good news to be meaningful and heard by a new generation of potential believers?
Jesus didn’t have the choice to stay on the mountain. He had a mission to fulfill—a purpose from God to draw us all to himself, to show us love, to make us one. It is a false choice for us, too, because of course we can’t go back. Really I think we are all aware of that, only we don’t know how to move forward into unknown territory. There is no yellow brick road to show us the way. More important than which direction we go, is that we move forward. There is no harm in remembering and learning from where we’ve been just like remembering what Moses and Elijah came to do and that was to lead the people forward. There is more than one road we can take to get where we’re going. The important thing is to move forward, trusting that God is with us on the journey, looking to God for guidance, and remembering that we belong to God as beloved children, and knowing the end of the story that God’s love endures.
In The Wizard of Oz, I was always afraid of the flying monkeys. There is just something terrifying about that. But because I knew the end of the story, I was able to make it through the scary parts with that vision of Dorothy clicking her heels together and finding her way home.
Dorothy always wanted to get back home and she was finally able to do so. Maybe it seemed she went back to life just as it was before, but she was changed forever by her experiences in Oz. She had stood up to the Witch. She had asked for what she needed from the Wizard. She had made new friends and helped them. She had overcome many obstacles. She had done a lot of growing up. Now she was more prepared for adulthood and the obstacles she would face as a young woman.
When we go through transfiguration moments, we, too, are changed. We may head straight back into ordinary life and all the hubbub, but always with a renewed spirit, recommitted to our goals, aware of our status as children of God no matter what, able to see God all around us—not that God is sometimes there and sometimes not, but that God is always with us, just now we are more aware of it because we have seen a vision of his glory and been transfigured.
Have you ever had a transfiguration moment? What was it like?
Psalm 50:1-6 2nd Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:3-6
When I was growing up, since there were no VCRs, we looked forward to watching the Wizard of Oz once a year on television around Thanksgiving or Christmas time. We always watched so closely during the part when Dorothy goes from the inside of her house into the land of Oz, when the film goes from black and white to color. We’d watch with anticipation through the whole first part of that film, eager to see the colorful costumes of the munchkins, the vivid lollipops, and of course, the yellow brick road! What an exciting transition that was! I’m going to call that the Transfiguration moment of the Wizard of Oz.
And that moment “colors” the rest of film. There are the red apples and poppies, the Emerald city, the green witch, the horse of a different color, and the Ruby Slippers. I don’t know if this film could have been made without color, it is so crucial to the characters and plot. If the whole film had been in color, it would not have been so dramatic, but that moment of transition makes you realize how special it is to get to see all the colors.
When we go through transitions, it can be disorienting. Sometimes it is that our eyes are opened to what was right there in front of us. Sometimes something new comes into view and changes how we see everything after that. In those transfiguration moments, we are changed, our view is changed, and we’ll never be the same.
Maybe you’ve sat with someone who was dying and held their hand. Those are holy Transfiguration moments, and you will never be the same after that experience. The same goes of being at a birth. It changes you forever. Or maybe you’ve had a religious experience, seen an angel, or heard the voice of God. Or if you’ve overcome addiction or come through a serious illness, you know what transfiguration is. Sometimes it is a moment of seeing something beautiful in nature—a mountain shining in the sun, a fall tree on fire with the sun blazing through the leaves, a formation of clouds so dramatic and stunning—when that image sticks with you for the rest of your life and colors how you see the world around you.
Peter stood in that moment and was disoriented, as we all are in moments like that. At this transfiguration, this disorienting moment, he sought to orient himself and try to steady himself. He was trying to make sense of this holy experience. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he wanted to capture this moment forever. That’s why he suggested building some tents for Moses, Elijah, and God and keep them all there. That’s the thing about transitions, they don’t last. They are a link between the past and present, moving us from one to other.
We could see this transition a couple of different ways. We could see Jesus as replacing Moses and Elijah. We could see this as Jesus getting the approval of those important people who came before: His story a continuation of what they had started. We could see this story as providing a vision of what is to come, giving hope for a future when God’s glory will be revealed.
Immediately after this Jesus is making a bee-line for Jerusalem, where he will be arrested and killed. This moment of seeing where he came from, and being reminded that he is God’s beloved son, would sustain him for what he was about to face: the cross, great suffering, rejection, and the grave. The disciples, too, will face a very difficult time. Maybe that vision will sustain them, too. In a way, the Transfiguration gives a glimpse of the end of the story that gives strength to get through the hardest part.
In the same way, the transfigurations we experience, those holy moments when we are reminded that we are God’s and God is with us, can give us the push we need to go do what needs to be done, the strength to move forward to face difficulties that we must encounter, and to move into the future with hope, and to be bearers of God’s Kingdom into this world. We know the end of the story, that we are God’s and God has the last loving word, so everything else no matter how hard can be seen as leading to that good outcome of new and abundant life.
I was wondering who might be the Moses and Elijah of our congregation, who we might picture as the matriarchs and patriarchs of our community and what they would say to us about our future. Maybe it would be Lovetta and John Wittrich and maybe John Morris. What if they suddenly materialized out of thin air here in the sanctuary? What would they say to us? Would we invite them to pull up a chair and stay a while and get them a cup of coffee? Do we see our forefathers and matriarchs casting a vision of what will be, urging us on to be who we need to be in this changing world and that it is okay to go to the cross, to take risks for the good news to be meaningful and heard by a new generation of potential believers?
Jesus didn’t have the choice to stay on the mountain. He had a mission to fulfill—a purpose from God to draw us all to himself, to show us love, to make us one. It is a false choice for us, too, because of course we can’t go back. Really I think we are all aware of that, only we don’t know how to move forward into unknown territory. There is no yellow brick road to show us the way. More important than which direction we go, is that we move forward. There is no harm in remembering and learning from where we’ve been just like remembering what Moses and Elijah came to do and that was to lead the people forward. There is more than one road we can take to get where we’re going. The important thing is to move forward, trusting that God is with us on the journey, looking to God for guidance, and remembering that we belong to God as beloved children, and knowing the end of the story that God’s love endures.
In The Wizard of Oz, I was always afraid of the flying monkeys. There is just something terrifying about that. But because I knew the end of the story, I was able to make it through the scary parts with that vision of Dorothy clicking her heels together and finding her way home.
Dorothy always wanted to get back home and she was finally able to do so. Maybe it seemed she went back to life just as it was before, but she was changed forever by her experiences in Oz. She had stood up to the Witch. She had asked for what she needed from the Wizard. She had made new friends and helped them. She had overcome many obstacles. She had done a lot of growing up. Now she was more prepared for adulthood and the obstacles she would face as a young woman.
When we go through transfiguration moments, we, too, are changed. We may head straight back into ordinary life and all the hubbub, but always with a renewed spirit, recommitted to our goals, aware of our status as children of God no matter what, able to see God all around us—not that God is sometimes there and sometimes not, but that God is always with us, just now we are more aware of it because we have seen a vision of his glory and been transfigured.
Have you ever had a transfiguration moment? What was it like?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
February 12, 2012 Gospel: Mark 1:40-45 Psalm 30
1st Reading: 2 Kings 5:1-14 2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Dear Lester,
How are you and how is the weather there in Capurnaum? We are all well and everyone from the family says hello. You have a new nephew and he’s a little butterball. Your brother has a new job and the family farm is flourishing.
It seems like forever since we’ve seen you and it is too bad that isn’t likely to change, now that your illness has progressed so much. How are you feeling, by the way? Have you made a lot of friends there in the leper colony? I suppose you start to build your own family with those around you. Although, I’m sure you miss us a lot, and we certainly miss you, I’m sure with time you will forget us and move on to your new life.
We’ve often wondered what it was you did, or we did, that brought this disease on you? Was there something we did or didn’t do? Did you forget your prayers or complain against God? Did you touch someone who was just coming down with leprosy? Some questions we may never know the answer to. One can spend hours and days going over it in one’s mind, trying to understand. What’s the use, though? We all know it is a disease which can never be cured, so we might as well accept it.
I have heard rumors, but I am sure they are too good to be true. There are rumors of a Messiah who can heal people of even the most grave diseases—cast out demons, heal people blind from birth, and take away addictions and madness. It seems like every few years these rumors erupt and it never turns out to have any truth to it. It probably isn’t even worth looking into. I suppose you don’t have anything to lose, though, and maybe someday one of these healers will turn out to be the real thing. Anyway, I heard his name is Jesus. He isn’t that special—just a regular guy from Nazareth. He’s wandering all around the countryside, drawing crowds and supposedly doing miracles. That’s probably an exaggeration—feeding 5000 people! Who knows?
I guess it isn’t impossible since we’ve all read in the Holy Scriptures about Naaman, a Gentile, healed by the prophet Elisha. It couldn’t really be as easy as washing in the Jordan river 7 times, could it? I’m sure you’ve tried that already.
Anyway, if you happen to get a chance to meet this guy, Jesus, you should. Who knows if he’d heal you, since you probably deserve what you’ve got, but it is worth a shot. Your mom would love to see you again, as would we all. We’ll try not to dwell on it, though.
Love,
Cousin Carl
Dear Carl,
It was good to hear from you. Please keep sending these letters. I look forward to them. Many people have stopped getting mail. Their families have given up on them. They are completely abandoned and alone. Say hello to everyone from me. I miss you all so much.
I often wonder, too, what I did to make God angry. I go over it in my mind a hundred times. I am not perfect by any means, but it doesn’t make any sense. I know people who have done a lot worse things than me who are perfectly healthy. I probably shouldn’t question God’s plan. But maybe my leprosy isn’t God’s plan. Maybe it is just a random accident of nature. Or maybe God will use it for God’s glory, somehow, or use me to help others. It is hard to say.
Here in the leper colony we read that Bible story about Naaman all the time. For some, it helps us not to lose hope. Others say it is just an ancient myth, that doesn’t mean anything for us. Those are some who have been here 20 or 30 years. Whether it is true or not, there is a lot going on in that story. I always like that it is an army general who has leprosy. There are some people here who used to be important, but leprosy puts you all on the same level. I love how it is a slave girl who knows the solution to his problem. The one you think is powerful is battling a serious illness and needs the help of a girl with no power at all. The general goes to the king since there is no way he’d go the lowly prophet but the king who is the most powerful man in the land has no power of leprosy. Then he is told to go wash in the Jordan River, but he thinks that isn’t good enough for him. It just shows you to expect the unexpected and that what we think of as powerful isn’t necessarily and what we think of as weak might not be.
So, I’m trying to be ready and open for anything—to look for healing in unexpected places from unexpected people. To be ready to be healed or not healed, bodily. To be open to another definition of healing—to be part of this community where I can hopefully make a difference. To remember that God created us all good so we’re never far from God’s care. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I am not willing to give up hope that something good can come out of this.
Give my love to the family,
Lester
Dear Lester,
You are stronger than I am. I certainly would have given up hope by now. Keep your spirits up and I’ll write you a longer letter when I have more time.
Your cousin,
Carl
Dear Carl,
A guy in our camp met this Messiah you mentioned in a previous letter and he’s been healed! It is truly a miracle. He came dancing back to show us how he’s better. He was out begging and someone said that was Jesus who could heal people, even leprosy. He said he approached him cautiously. He didn’t want to contaminate the poor guy. And he tried to be really polite about it in case it wasn’t meant to be. But Jesus invited him right over and was compassionate and even touched his skin. We’re all holding our breath, thinking he could be thrown in our camp any day now just for touching my friend. Anyway Jesus chose to heal him. He wasn’t supposed to tell, but how could he not? Everyone wanted to know how it happened. He’s been asked to tell the story again and again. He was supposed to go the synagogue and show the priest, but he says he’s never darkening the door of the synagogue again after the way he’s been treated. I thought for sure, if I was healed, I’d never go back to the colony, but that’s what he’s done. He’s there trying to help all of us and to give us hope by sharing the story of a man who is going to change the world, who is going to change the systems that keep people down and who wants us all to help change those systems. I’m starting to think my life might not be a total waste—that maybe I have something to offer, even if I’m not ever healed. There are lots of people who need to know there is hope, even when you are sick and rejected. We’ll all be in that place someday, so how can we live with our shortcomings and still have hope and give hope to other people. I think it can be done.
Talk to you soon,
Lester
Dear Lester,
It turns out Jesus wasn’t the Messiah after all. He was arrested last week and crucified, so that’s the end of that.
I’m sure you wondered why he healed your friend and not you if he had the power to do it. We’ve all wondered it and had our suspicions that he wasn’t all that people said he was.
I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I hope this isn’t too much of a blow to you. I know you hoped to meet him and be healed, too. Still you are doing a lot of good there in the colony and for leper’s rights in the community. Keep up the good work.
Your cousin,
Carl
Dear Carl,
We’ve been discussing Jesus’ death here at the colony. Because we’ve experienced strength in our weakness, we don’t see Jesus’ death as a blow at all. God can work through a situation of weakness and even death to bring life. Whether he was the Messiah or not our lives have been changed for the better and new life is coming out of a difficult situation. Even though we are suffering, we give thanks to God and persevere. I hope you won’t lose hope and faith. Just because I didn’t experience a healing of my leprosy I have a meaningful life and a lot to look forward to.
May you find meaning and purpose in your weakness, too, and experience God’s healing in the many forms it takes.
God bless you,
Lester
1st Reading: 2 Kings 5:1-14 2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Dear Lester,
How are you and how is the weather there in Capurnaum? We are all well and everyone from the family says hello. You have a new nephew and he’s a little butterball. Your brother has a new job and the family farm is flourishing.
It seems like forever since we’ve seen you and it is too bad that isn’t likely to change, now that your illness has progressed so much. How are you feeling, by the way? Have you made a lot of friends there in the leper colony? I suppose you start to build your own family with those around you. Although, I’m sure you miss us a lot, and we certainly miss you, I’m sure with time you will forget us and move on to your new life.
We’ve often wondered what it was you did, or we did, that brought this disease on you? Was there something we did or didn’t do? Did you forget your prayers or complain against God? Did you touch someone who was just coming down with leprosy? Some questions we may never know the answer to. One can spend hours and days going over it in one’s mind, trying to understand. What’s the use, though? We all know it is a disease which can never be cured, so we might as well accept it.
I have heard rumors, but I am sure they are too good to be true. There are rumors of a Messiah who can heal people of even the most grave diseases—cast out demons, heal people blind from birth, and take away addictions and madness. It seems like every few years these rumors erupt and it never turns out to have any truth to it. It probably isn’t even worth looking into. I suppose you don’t have anything to lose, though, and maybe someday one of these healers will turn out to be the real thing. Anyway, I heard his name is Jesus. He isn’t that special—just a regular guy from Nazareth. He’s wandering all around the countryside, drawing crowds and supposedly doing miracles. That’s probably an exaggeration—feeding 5000 people! Who knows?
I guess it isn’t impossible since we’ve all read in the Holy Scriptures about Naaman, a Gentile, healed by the prophet Elisha. It couldn’t really be as easy as washing in the Jordan river 7 times, could it? I’m sure you’ve tried that already.
Anyway, if you happen to get a chance to meet this guy, Jesus, you should. Who knows if he’d heal you, since you probably deserve what you’ve got, but it is worth a shot. Your mom would love to see you again, as would we all. We’ll try not to dwell on it, though.
Love,
Cousin Carl
Dear Carl,
It was good to hear from you. Please keep sending these letters. I look forward to them. Many people have stopped getting mail. Their families have given up on them. They are completely abandoned and alone. Say hello to everyone from me. I miss you all so much.
I often wonder, too, what I did to make God angry. I go over it in my mind a hundred times. I am not perfect by any means, but it doesn’t make any sense. I know people who have done a lot worse things than me who are perfectly healthy. I probably shouldn’t question God’s plan. But maybe my leprosy isn’t God’s plan. Maybe it is just a random accident of nature. Or maybe God will use it for God’s glory, somehow, or use me to help others. It is hard to say.
Here in the leper colony we read that Bible story about Naaman all the time. For some, it helps us not to lose hope. Others say it is just an ancient myth, that doesn’t mean anything for us. Those are some who have been here 20 or 30 years. Whether it is true or not, there is a lot going on in that story. I always like that it is an army general who has leprosy. There are some people here who used to be important, but leprosy puts you all on the same level. I love how it is a slave girl who knows the solution to his problem. The one you think is powerful is battling a serious illness and needs the help of a girl with no power at all. The general goes to the king since there is no way he’d go the lowly prophet but the king who is the most powerful man in the land has no power of leprosy. Then he is told to go wash in the Jordan River, but he thinks that isn’t good enough for him. It just shows you to expect the unexpected and that what we think of as powerful isn’t necessarily and what we think of as weak might not be.
So, I’m trying to be ready and open for anything—to look for healing in unexpected places from unexpected people. To be ready to be healed or not healed, bodily. To be open to another definition of healing—to be part of this community where I can hopefully make a difference. To remember that God created us all good so we’re never far from God’s care. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I am not willing to give up hope that something good can come out of this.
Give my love to the family,
Lester
Dear Lester,
You are stronger than I am. I certainly would have given up hope by now. Keep your spirits up and I’ll write you a longer letter when I have more time.
Your cousin,
Carl
Dear Carl,
A guy in our camp met this Messiah you mentioned in a previous letter and he’s been healed! It is truly a miracle. He came dancing back to show us how he’s better. He was out begging and someone said that was Jesus who could heal people, even leprosy. He said he approached him cautiously. He didn’t want to contaminate the poor guy. And he tried to be really polite about it in case it wasn’t meant to be. But Jesus invited him right over and was compassionate and even touched his skin. We’re all holding our breath, thinking he could be thrown in our camp any day now just for touching my friend. Anyway Jesus chose to heal him. He wasn’t supposed to tell, but how could he not? Everyone wanted to know how it happened. He’s been asked to tell the story again and again. He was supposed to go the synagogue and show the priest, but he says he’s never darkening the door of the synagogue again after the way he’s been treated. I thought for sure, if I was healed, I’d never go back to the colony, but that’s what he’s done. He’s there trying to help all of us and to give us hope by sharing the story of a man who is going to change the world, who is going to change the systems that keep people down and who wants us all to help change those systems. I’m starting to think my life might not be a total waste—that maybe I have something to offer, even if I’m not ever healed. There are lots of people who need to know there is hope, even when you are sick and rejected. We’ll all be in that place someday, so how can we live with our shortcomings and still have hope and give hope to other people. I think it can be done.
Talk to you soon,
Lester
Dear Lester,
It turns out Jesus wasn’t the Messiah after all. He was arrested last week and crucified, so that’s the end of that.
I’m sure you wondered why he healed your friend and not you if he had the power to do it. We’ve all wondered it and had our suspicions that he wasn’t all that people said he was.
I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I hope this isn’t too much of a blow to you. I know you hoped to meet him and be healed, too. Still you are doing a lot of good there in the colony and for leper’s rights in the community. Keep up the good work.
Your cousin,
Carl
Dear Carl,
We’ve been discussing Jesus’ death here at the colony. Because we’ve experienced strength in our weakness, we don’t see Jesus’ death as a blow at all. God can work through a situation of weakness and even death to bring life. Whether he was the Messiah or not our lives have been changed for the better and new life is coming out of a difficult situation. Even though we are suffering, we give thanks to God and persevere. I hope you won’t lose hope and faith. Just because I didn’t experience a healing of my leprosy I have a meaningful life and a lot to look forward to.
May you find meaning and purpose in your weakness, too, and experience God’s healing in the many forms it takes.
God bless you,
Lester
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