Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Cycling through Forgiveness as we Cycle through Grief

        I don't believe forgiveness is a linear thing, anymore than grief is.  And today I was struck by the fact that it is, undoubtedly, because the two are so closely related.  

    Anger, we are told, is a secondary emotion, and it usually is a cover for sadness, or grief (or fear).  Forgiveness is a way to let go, to release that anger from our bodies, from our minds, from our beings.  Grief is not linear, so forgiveness won't be either.  As we cycle through the pain of loss, and especially the anger of loss (one of the stages of grief), we will probably need to forgive again.  Also, just as new losses can push us into reliving old losses and can bring up that old grief all over again, new things that anger us can cause us to remember at a cellular, emotionally based level old injuries and present us with new opportunities to work towards forgiveness again, hopefully at a deeper level, for what has happened in the past.

    This came up for me this morning as a scripture I read threw me back into an injury from almost two years ago, and the realization that while I had forgiven it at the time, I would now need to work to forgive it again.  That while I had grieved the loss and the pain of that injury at that time, that it hurt again, that it cut again, and that I would need to grieve it, going through the denial, negotiation, anger, and depression again to come to a place of acceptance and then forgiveness once more.  Ugh.  

    Grieving is hard work.  Forgiveness is, perhaps, even harder work.  It requires us to remember the humanity of the other, and to have compassion for their challenges and their histories that have impacted who they are today.  It means letting go of the anger by walking through it to the other side.  It means experiencing the pain of loss once more.  And then, deep forgiveness requires self-reflection as well, and asks of us a commitment to look with intention and integrity at our own part in a situation.  If a person cannot be self-reflective, forgiveness is unattainable.  The more self-reflective a person can be, the more quickly a person will be able to pass through to forgiveness.  But it seems that self-reflection is not really something we value too much in our current culture.  It is a difficult calling to look at our own failings, to own them, to admit (or confess) them and to attempt to make amends for them.  I deeply believe it is the only way we can truly heal, but it is a challenge many simply cannot face.

    I am reminded of Dumbledore's conversation with Harry in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallow's about Voldemort.   He said that even this evil man could heal all the horrible, awful things he had done.  There was hope for him, but it was only to be found in a decision on his part to look, to see what he had done and to feel remorse.  Dumbledore also admitted that the pain of that remorse would be worse than he could imagine.  And, unfortunately,  it was a pain Voldemort was simply unwilling to experience.  

    Even with small things, people can be scared or afraid to self-reflect.  And that fear of the pain of self-reflection keeps us from forgiveness.  One might ask then if we are able to do that work and are able to forgive, why do we then have to forgive again?

     Just as each time that grief resurfaces we have an opportunity to dive a little deeper into healing that grief, each time anger rises at another person, we have the call to dig deeper into compassion, self-reflection, and ultimately forgiveness.  

      Again, none of this is easy.  As I sat with my own grief, pain and anger this morning I realized how much easier it would be for me to just remain hurt and angry and not do the work of self-reflection or the work of remembering that the others have histories and pain, too, that I need to approach with compassion and grace.  It would be simpler to stay mad.  To be holier than thou.  To allow the anger and judgement to build safe but isolating walls between myself and those who hurt me.  It would be so much less work.  It would also be "safer".  I would then no longer have to be vulnerable to their actions, to their ability to injure me.  I could walk away and self-righteously declare that I did not need that kind of "friendship," and that this loss of relationship was THEIR loss for not treating me right in the first place.  I could do that.  But I would be lying to myself if I did.  And I would miss an opportunity for deeper healing for myself.  

    So today I once again choose the harder path.  I will take the time I need to journal and reflect, to grieve again, and to own my part in the problem.  I will do what must be done to heal at the next level, and more, to forgive again.  Their intentions and their choices ultimately are immaterial in this.  The forgiveness must be given for the sake of my own soul, my own peace of mind, and my own walk towards wholeness.  I would wish for all of you to find that peace as well.  Blessings on your day.

Peace Talk for Brentwood Inspired Living Center

First of all, I want to thank Amy for inviting me to speak to you all today.  It is a real joy and privilege to be asked to talk about something that I think is so important for us, always, but perhaps especially in today’s world.  “Peace” is very elusive, especially during this time.  People are stressed because of the pandemic, social unrest, the weather, the smoke – days moved to weeks moved to months and now we’ve had a half year of “shelter in place” and “social distancing” and people are beginning to act out.  

I think about the post a friend of mine made on FB where he detailed waking up to find an intruder in his home.  The intruder grabbed a couple things and left.  No one was hurt, my friend was able to replace the missing items with fairly little trauma.  It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t scarring either.  Still, the responses that he received on FB were things like “You should have shot and killed that guy!  That would have taught him!”  And “Too bad you weren’t able to beat him up with a bat and permanently ruin his life!”  I was shocked by these responses, but probably shouldn’t have been.  We live in a culture where violence tends to escalate, and where people react with such intense anger that nothing short of death satisfies some people as the appropriate consequence for a stolen watch.  This is the world in which we dare to breathe words such as “peace”.  And that action of looking for and seeking peace is an act of courage in such a world.

The other day I was walking in a parking lot with my daughter at the grocery store (both of us with our masks on) and we were just about to get to the car to put in the groceries, when some rage-filled person started cursing and screaming at us.  I have no idea why.  I assumed at the time that it was because they wanted us to move more quickly to get our groceries in the car so they could have my spot, but, putting aside the fact that there were other open spaces, that just didn’t explain the rage that this person (who I had never seen before) was expressing.   Of course, the temptation for me then, as it often is for many of us I think, is to respond to that kind of anger with anger in return.  The temptation was to turn and yell back, to sarcastically critique his lack of vocabulary or to do something else that would have hurt him as much as he was upsetting me and my daughter.    

But in that moment, I found Martin Luther King Jr.’s comment rattling in my head when he said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”  The reality is we cannot get to peace, true peace, through anger, rage, hate or violence.  Those angry attacking responses leave people hurting, damaged, and that damage and hurt festers, and usually builds resentment and pain.  While violence may lead to a time of non-violence, there is a difference between peace and non-violence.  Peace is when people are okay within themselves and within their world.  Peace is when people see each other for the deeply connected siblings that we all are.  Peace is when we remember our deep connections to and within all creation.  Peace is when each person and each part of creation has enough, has what they need to live, to breathe, to survive.  That peace can never be full, real or profound when even one person is hurting.  

But responding to anger, violence or hatred with peace is hard.  So in that moment in the parking lot, I also found myself thinking about a Star Trek Next Generation episode in which all these different species are fighting to get this “thing” first, pieces of which have been planted into the different DNAs of different species across the galaxies.  Some species think what they will find when they solve the puzzle by putting all these pieces from their DNA together will be extreme wealth.  Others think it is massive power.  Some specifically think it is a powerful weapon.  All think that they better get it first and they are willing to kill one another to get it. They need each other’s piece of the puzzle to find whatever it is however, so they are all at the final place together; all gathered with their weapons out, preparing to fight to get it and claim it first for their people, their world, their community.  When they finally gather everything together, what they have been given is a message about how important it is to work together and find peace together in order for all to live.  The hologram that is produced by their DNA puzzle pieces gives the message that within each of them is a piece of one another, that they are literally within as well as among one another, and that it is only together they are whole.  But once they hear the message of peace and deep connection to one another, they respond by still trying to fight each other.  “We cannot possibly have anything in common,” one declares in rage, and “I would have killed her if she were alive” another says in response to the Hologram’s message.  They are so caught up in their anger that they cannot hear or see, and peace remains a distant, elusive dream for them all.  

     In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Gandalf said, “Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check.  But that is not what I have found.  I have found that it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay.  Small acts of kindness and love.” 

     As we seek to be people of peace, we have to start with the small, with the ordinary, with the opportunities we have to meet hatred and anger with kindness, compassion, and peace.    I thought about one of my heroes in life, Rev. Ben Weir.  He was a Presbyterian pastor who was working in Lebanon when he was kidnapped and held hostage.  He was held for 16 months as a hostage.  But after his experience, he did not come home seeking revenge, seeking the destruction of those who had kidnapped him.  Instead, he remained a voice for peace, for non-violent resolutions to problems.  I personally knew the man and he was, until the end, the most compassionate, sweetest man I have ever met.   

     There is a wonderful book titled “Tattoos of the Heart” written by Father Gregory Boyle.  He is a priest who works with gangs in LA, giving them work, jobs, a sense of belonging to something and to people who do not require violence or aggression as part of their membership rituals.  He writes about his experiences with these boys, these men, these families.  But his book begins with these words, “If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.  William Blake wrote, ‘We are put on earth for a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love.’ Turns out this is what we all have in common, gang member and nongang member alike: we’re just trying to learn how to bear the beams of love.” (pxiii).

     The idea of Ubuntu is that “a person becomes a person through other people” – we are deeply and completely connected to one another.  When I am injuring you, it is me, myself who is damaged in the process.  And when I am kind to you, I am offering that kindness to myself as well.  

     These ideas are the foundation of peace: the recognition of our interdependence, our interconnection, with all people, but more, with all of life.  

     All of these examples and thoughts flashed through my head in response to the man screaming at me at the parking lot.  And I made the decision in that moment to do other than I wanted to do.  I chose then to wave, to smile (though I’m sure he could not see that behind my mask), and to quickly get my groceries into the car so that he could have the spot.  Fortunately, the space across from me was empty so I pulled forward and out of the spot.  I saw that he did not take the spot, but continued to shriek at me and even follow me out of the parking lot.  I still have not one clue about why.  I asked my daughter who was with me if she could see why he was so angry, but she said "no", and finally we were able to pull away from the man and to drive home.  I acted the way I wanted to act.  I did not give him power to change my behavior from the peace I wanted to communicate and exude.  I did not give him the ability to make me angry or hateful or destructive.  I acted with the peace and compassion I choose to demonstrate.  But I have to admit, I did not feel peace after that interaction.  I was shaking with fear, with anger, with visions of yelling back, or calling the police or something else.  I felt torn up inside by a person I don't know, will never meet, who was just... ANGRY.  It didn't make me feel better to act with kindness.  It did not make me feel better to be kind in the face of that kind of anger/hate.  But it didn't make me feel worse either.  If I'd acted in anger, I would have felt more angry.  If I'd chosen rage, I probably would have felt guilt on top of everything else, if only for giving that example to my daughter.  Instead, after a few minutes had passed, I felt a bit of triumph that I had not allowed myself to be controlled or changed by his behavior.  And my soul moved to a place of acceptance, wondering what that man was suffering with, and peace within myself much more quickly than it would have done if I had acted in any other way.  

     There is a saying in many 12 step programs which is "Act as If."  The theory behind it is that you act your way into being someone else.  Act as if you are a peaceful person and you will become one. Act as if you are no longer angry and you will stop being angry.  Act happy and calm and confident and those feelings and attributes will follow.  That is my choice for now.  I don't know that it will always work.  I don't know that I can always think of the kind way to respond in the face of anger or hate.  But I can try.   And perhaps in trying, I will become more the person of peace that I want to be.

I may not change the world.  I may make no difference at all in the scheme of things.  But I also will not let the world make me more angry, hateful or fearful.  I don't choose that, for myself or for those around me who are affected by my behavior.  For today, I hope that is enough.  

Peace is elusive in this time.  But it must start and end with each one of us choosing to be beacons, voices, examples of the peace we hope to find.  We create the world around us one word, one act, one choice at a time.  For today, let that choice be for peace.


Monday, September 21, 2020

Comfort

           My experience of God has been, consistently, that God shows up most fully during our hardest times.  For me, God's presence was tangible during our horrible family crises that started ten years ago and really became more manageable for most of us five years ago.  During those first few years, especially, when every day it was a challenge to get up, to breathe, to put one foot in front of the other, God's presence was so real and so powerful that it gave me a rock to cling to, an anchor to ground myself and my kids, a life-force that made it possible to face each day.  Without that, I do not know how we would have come through with the strength and healing that is part of who we are today.  I have seen many people become embittered by the experiences of life.  But for us I think we are more compassionate, more gentle in our approach to the pains and struggles.  Again, this could not have been the case without the love, the presence, the compassion of God that made itself manifest in so many different ways: through people, through nature, through art and music, through the "coincidences" and "serendipities" that touched us daily at first and then spread out more as we needed them less.

    I think that God always shows up most strongly for those who are struggling the most which is why God can consistently be found among the poor, among the oppressed.  If we want to really meet God we must choose to be with those people, helping, uplifting, empowering.  That is where we will and do experience a living God.  It's the story of the mother who is asked "which of your children do you love the most?"  to which she answers, "the one who is most in need of my love."  God's love is like this, too.  I've seen it, I've experienced it, I've lived it.

         We are in another such time.  Sleepless nights, stress, strain, struggle and pain.  Decisions that must be made, steps that must be taken, disappointments that must be faced, inventory that must be taken, amends that must be made, and amidst it all the growing questions of purpose, meaning, call, and existence.  This is reality for many of us at this time.  It is a reality for me as well.  And, just as before, God is showing up again in incredible, amazing, tangible ways.  Yesterday it was in the form of words.  I tend to begin my mornings with puzzles as I eat my breakfast.  Yesterday as I ate I did several cryptograms, which is a puzzle where you figure out an encoded quote.  Each of the quotes that I decoded felt like a personal message, a gift from God.  Then later we decided as a family to re-watch the movie "Wall-E".  It's a really good movie and one I think that I may show for a faith and film night at some point.  At the end, during the credits, they play a Peter Gabriel song "Down to Earth" and these words, too, hit me in a new and specific way.  I'm posting some of yesterday's wisdom here for you, then.  These words spoke to me in specific ways which I realize will not be the same for everyone.  The specifics of what they meant for me are not important.  I hope that they will offer wisdom to you for wherever you are in this moment.

    "A mistake should be your teacher, not your attacker.  A mistake is a lesson not a loss.  It is a temporary necessary detour, not a dead end."

    "Learning comes in three distinct phases: as a young child one hungers for knowledge, then as a teenager one knows it all, and finally as an adult the real learning can commence."

    "Nonviolence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind (sic).  It is mightier than the mightiest weapon of destruction devised by the ingenuity of man (sic)." - Mahatma Gandhi.

    "At your best you still won't be good enough for the wrong [one].  At your worst, you'll still be worth it to the right [one]."

And from the Peter Gabriel song:

Did you think that your feet had been bound
By what gravity brings to the ground?
Did you feel you were tricked
By the future you picked?
Well, come on down

All these rules don't apply
When you're high in the sky
So come on down
Come on down

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow up on the mountains
We've got rivers down below

We're coming down to the ground
To hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

Did you think you'd escaped from routine
By changing the script and the scene?
Despite all you made of it
You're always afraid of the change

You've got a lot on your chest
Well, you can come as my guest
So come on down
Come on down

Like the fish in the ocean

We felt at home in the sea
We learned to live off the good land
We learned to climb up a tree

Then we got up on two legs
But we wanted to fly
Oh, when we messed up our homeland
And set sail for the sky

We're coming down

Comin' down to earth
Like babies at birth
Comin' down to earth
Redefine your priorities
These are extraordinary qualities

To find on earth

Sunday, September 20, 2020

Fair

 Genesis 15:1-6, Luke 3:8, Matthew 20:1-16

You know the story.  The owner hires different workers at different times.  That means the workers work different amounts.  Yet, at the end of the day, each worker is paid the same amount.  And the laborers are upset about this.  They feel this is unjust.   They feel that those who have worked for longer should be paid more.  And they are angry.

We can relate to this right?  We want life to be fair, we struggle when it isn’t.  And, as people who have control sometimes over what others have or received, I think we spend a lot of time trying to figure out what is fair.  As parents, grandparents, and guardians, especially, we work to be fair.  To use some less serious examples: In our family, for example, Jasmyn got to go out with her grandparents for “special birthday time” starting when she turned 5 or six.  The grandparents felt that it wasn’t “fair” for the younger kids to get to go out that young so they made the decision to wait until each child turned 5 or 6 to have that “special time” with the grandparents.  Does this seem fair?  Well, from a different perspective, the grandparents aren’t going to be able to take the kids out forever and each child should have the same amount of time with them, so perhaps it is more fair if each child should start at the same time being able to have that special time with their grandparents.  Even with simple things, what is “fair” can be complicated.

Another less serious scenario – when I was growing up, the older child always got a bigger piece of pie or cake or whatever because they were “bigger” and needed more.  Does this seem fair?  With my own kids, it is my youngest child who needs the most calories and who eats the most despite being unusually skinny.  How do we define fair?

When we lived in San Leandro, Jasmyn went to Head Royce, a private school.  It was an amazing school that gave her basically a free ride.  They were committed to diversity, to taking care of others and the planet.  Part of their curriculum required each child to do some kind of community service, and they taught important values about caring for the world.  However, most of the kids who attended this school were filthy rich.  While Jasmyn got a free ride, fifteen years ago the tuition per child for kindergarten alone was $24,000 a year.  And while they taught great values, one day Jasmyn came home and said, “Why don’t we have a play castle in our back yard?  Why don’t I have my own pony?  Why don’t I have my own bedroom?  Why didn’t we go skiing in France for our winter vacation?”  It didn’t matter what the values were that were being taught.  She was put in a situation where those she compared herself to made her feel poor, made her feel that life was unfair in the way that told her that she didn’t have enough, didn’t have as much.  She could have compared herself to those in our community who lived on the street.  What I wanted for her was for her to realize our many, many blessing and riches and to realize that because of our blessings we have a great responsibility to care for those around us, to be as generous with others as God is with us.  But instead, she had the experience of being in a place where she was the “poorest” and she left that feeling that her life was “unfair.”

But it’s not just children who experience that.  I remember talking with a person who was a choir director at a large church during the time when I was the Associate pastor of music and family ministries at Bethel.  He was sharing with me about the Associate pastor at the church where he was working complaining because she was being paid about 3/5 of what the senior pastor was being paid though she believed she was working much harder than he was.  She was upset, but this choir director with whom I was speaking was even more upset because he said while she was complaining to him about her salary being much less than the senior pastor, her salary was much MORE than the choir director’s salary.  And as I listened to him I realized that I was also feeling that it was unfair because I was working for a small, poorer congregation at the time that was paying ME much less than HE was making though I was not only the choir director, but the pianist, and the Associate Pastor in charge of all the education and family programs, as well as music programs at my church.  Levels and levels of people feeling that life was unfair, unjust. 

               I think about the times when people have offered us grace: like the time I was pulled over for running a light that changed just as I entered the intersection, but was let off with a warning rather than being given a ticket.  I normally forget about that grace that I was offered, though, when I see people speeding in their cars and find myself wishing that they would get pulled over.  I find I can make assumptions about who they are, what their motives are.  I fail to see with God’s eyes, eyes of compassion and understanding and insight in those moments.  I want “justice” for others, by which I usually mean them having to pay, and grace for myself.  I don’t think I’m alone in this.

A more serious example: How many of you have seen the movie, “the Gods Must be Crazy”?  In it there is a native group of bush people who are filmed and who act in the film.  After the film was made, an article was written by an anthropologist who had lived and worked with the bush people about the devastation that the filming had created for this bush tribe.  There are rules, good rules, mostly that require that when anyone does work, he or she is paid for it.  If a person isn’t paid, it is a kind of exploitation.  But what happened in this particular case was that not everyone in the tribe was in the film.  So before the film was made, everyone in the tribe had the exact same amount; everything was shared, everything was in common.  It was very little, people had almost no material possessions before this film was made.  But still, all the people in the tribe felt grateful, felt rich, felt they had more than enough.  But then the filming crew paid some of the tribe members for their participation in the film.  In so doing, they introduced inequity into the tribe.  And that inequity led to a sense of unfairness on the part of those who weren’t paid.  Now some had things that were just theirs, and others were lacking in those things.  People began to feel poor, and eventually the tribe began to fight within itself and the tribal culture for this one group at least, was utterly destroyed.  Ironically, the film that destroyed them included a story line that told its own story about this very inequity and about the dangers of “things” being introduced into these cultures.

To take this to a more serious level, we tend to say that it is unfair when people are getting unemployment.  Even though the amount of money most people get through unemployment is not living wages, we still feel it is somehow “unfair” if they have not worked for that money, have not earned it.  We get so upset we call them names, “welfare moms”, being one example.

               The truth is from a personal perspective, in our definition of justice, nothing is EVER fair.  When we fail to understand or have compassion or care for others, when we can only see from our own desires for more, from our greed, then nothing is ever fair.  We don’t get what we think we deserve.  Others seem to get more than we think they deserve. 

But what I call us all to focus on today is the end of today’s parable, which reads, “‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you.  Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

               The amount that each person was paid, a denarius, was basically just enough to feed one’s family for that day.  Each person was given what they needed.  It is not about “deservingness”. It is about what is needed.  This is a story about God’s justice which, once again, does not care about what a person has earned, does not care about how hard you’ve worked or how deserving you are or even WHO you are.  God’s justice is about each person having enough.  “Justice” or “fairness” is based on sufficiency of need, not all the things that we would say it’s based on.

               The truth is that in our world God has given us enough.  As a world, we have enough for every person, EVERY single person, to have what they need.  But because of greed, some people have much, much more than they need which means there are others who do not have enough.  Let me be very clear:  It is completely anti-God, immoral, unethical to have more than we need when other people are starving to death.  There just isn’t another way to say that.  But because we know that some take more than they need, that as a result there are others who do not have enough, we become fearful people and we worry and fret about what is “fair” out of fear that we will not have enough, or we will not have what we want, or we will not have what we believe we deserve more than others.  We have a mindset of scarcity.  But again, this leads to unkind and unbiblical behavior. As a result of that mindset, we begrudge people even enough to feed their families, as the workers in today’s story did.  They were not given less because others were given enough to eat for the day.  And yet they still were grumbling, still begrudged the fact that others were given enough for the day.  And that begrudging of others having enough to live another day – that is sin.

               This ties directly into the biblical story of Manna in the wilderness.  As Exodus 16:4- 8 says: Then the Lord said to Moses, “I’m going to make bread rain down from the sky for you. The people will go out each day and gather just enough for that day. In this way, I’ll test them to see whether or not they follow my Instruction.   On the sixth day, when they measure out what they have collected, it will be twice as much as they collected on other days.”  We know this story.  The people in the wilderness did not have enough.  So God provided for them.  But what God provided was just enough for that day.  If they took more than they needed, it would spoil.  When we take more than we need, it spoils our hearts, it spoils our knowledge of our connections to one another, to all things, it spoils our sense of the brother and sisterhood of all life.  Exodus continues, “Moses said to them, “This is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.  This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Collect as much of it as each of you can eat, one omer per person. You may collect for the number of people in your household.’ The Israelites did as Moses said, some collecting more, some less. But when they measured it out by the omer, the ones who had collected more had nothing left over, and the ones who had collected less had no shortage. Everyone collected just as much as they could eat.  Moses said to them, “Don’t keep any of it until morning.”  But they didn’t listen to Moses. Some kept part of it until morning, but it became infested with worms and stank. Moses got angry with them.  Every morning they gathered it, as much as each person could eat. But when the sun grew hot, it melted away.”  This, too, shows the justice of God.  A justice that is based solely on what people need, without any reference to what people “deserve.”

               We also see this in the Old Testament commandment to leave enough in our fields for the poor to glean.  People were required by biblical law to leave enough produce for those who could not buy food to be able to eat each day.  It is biblical law.  As Deuteronomy 24:19 says: “Whenever you are reaping the harvest of your field, leave some grain in the field. Do not go back and get it. Let it go to the immigrants, the orphans, and the widows so that the Lord your God blesses you in all that you do.”

               As Rev. Sandhya Jha, the director of the Peace Center said it, “What we see in this story is a redefinition of justice.  Typically, we define justice as ‘what someone deserves’ based on their actions or particular qualities….But in this story, the landowner redefines justice to mean a state in which everyone receives what is fitting to a laborer, regardless of their specific actions as a laborer.  This is a radically different notion of justice form our common usage.  The question of deservingness is separated from action, or personal qualities, and instead centers on identity.  This means that all people, as children of God, are equally deserving of the fruits of labor.  In other words, it is a metaphor for God’s justice, which is a justice that gives freely to the measure that is sufficient to the needs of the person….justice or what is right is that status in which needs are met for all people equally….On God’s terms of justice, giving more to some and less to others based on merits is not right.”

What does this mean for us?  Well, first, we have a choice about how we look at life.  Do we focus on what is unfair?  It is unfair when we work hard for little while others don’t work at all and are given much.  It is unfair that we have to struggle with this challenge or that challenge while others seem to have charmed lives.  It is unfair that we do our best and still go through painful situations.  Life is unfair.  Or we can look at the many blessings that fill our lives:  Each of us seeing this, reading this, has more than enough to eat.  Each of us has a bed to sleep in.  We each have family and friends and a church that loves us and supports us.  We have educations and vacations and toys for all ages.  Our lives are filled with blessings and we can choose to focus on them and be grateful for God’s generosity to each one of us.  We have much more than we need, after all. 

               But more deeply than that, God’s definition of justice does not take into account what people deserve and instead focuses solely on what people need.  That is so hard for us to grasp, so hard for us to take in.  But Jesus presents this definition of justice to us and expects us to also stand up for this justice, this image of what it is to be just.  We are called not to award and discriminate based on what people “deserve” (and again for each of us what someone deserves will be different), but instead to care for and love all people, working hard to make sure they all have what they need.  That is a justice that leads to peace.  When people have what they need, there is room for peace, there is room for living.

               I know this is a really hard concept.  So I want to say it once more.  What scripture shows us is God’s definition of justice is about giving everyone what they need.  It is NOT about what people deserve.  EVER.  And we are called to strive for that same understanding of justice.  I again, understand that this is hard.  The good news in this is that God’s love for each of us is that we will have enough.  And if we work for a world in which everyone has enough, all of us will be richer for it.  God’s love is bigger than we can imagine.  And we are extensions of that love to one another.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Friday, September 18, 2020

Challenges of the times

        Thursday evening was my daughter's back to school night.  This was a different back to school night because it was all on-line.  It was set up so that every 15 minutes we were invited to "move" from one period of study to the next by closing a zoom group meeting that was hosted by the teacher for that particular period at school, and opening the next zoom meeting for the next period's teacher.  We were sent a list of the zoom links for each of our child's classes.  Unfortunately the links to the zoom rooms that the parents were sent all required passcodes, none of which were sent.  

      To say the least, then, it was an interesting evening.  We had been invited to start the evening with a zoom meeting with the principal.  That room was accessible and did not require passcodes.  So, as each parent discovered that they were unable to get into their child's zoom classrooms, they returned to this zoom room.  The principal's zoom room had all of us permanently muted.  So different parents were writing signs and holding them up for all of us to read.  The signs said things like, "This is what our kids are experiencing every day" and "This is why our kids need to actually be on campus".  Personally, I disagree with that second sign and I don't understand this perspective.  I would much rather have my child struggling to learn in a new way (after all, that is learning, too and isn't that what school is about?) than to risk my child being exposed to a deadly and highly contagious disease.  But I seem to be in the minority in this perspective.

       Of course, the school was on top of the problem fairly quickly.  And so we were able to connect to most of my daughter's classes.  The school immediately sent out emails to all the parents apologizing and begging for our compassion and patience.  That was not hard for me to give.  These are hard times, we are all struggling to make our way through new ways of doing things, new ways of connecting.  We are learning new technology and sometimes it doesn't work for us in the ways we expect or hope.  I know how to contact my child's teachers and if there is an issue, I can just reach out directly.  While I was unable then to hear a couple teacher presentations, I do not feel that I have missed vital information that will change the course of my daughter's future irrevocably for the worse.  This was a small inconvenience and the school dealt with it as quickly and as efficiently as could be expected.  Mistakes happen.  We all make them.

       But I have since heard that not all parents were as compassionate or as patient.  While this, too, baffles me at some level, I again have been made aware that this shouldn't surprise me at all since the anger, rage and attacks are happening in so many different situations and places.  We know that one of the real problems of social media is that people feel emboldened to say cruel and hateful things through social media that they would never dare to say to others in person.  People are not held accountable and they rant and rave on social media in ways that would be seen as extremely childish, unthoughtful, and simply inappropriate if it were done in person.  Relationships are permanently damaged then because of the things people feel free to type, things that they would be prevented from saying to a person's face because they would see the hurt, see the pain they were causing which would then push most people to find gentler and better ways to speak their truth if they chose to speak at all.  

       But now, we only have these distant ways of communicating.  We are no longer talking directly to people, no longer seeing the faces of those we are injuring in person, no longer forced to talk to those with whom we disagree because it is so much easier to just refuse to answer the phone, to choose to ignore the email, to pretend the other doesn't exist, or to choose to speak about others rather than TO others directly.  We could never do this if we were in the same places at the same time.  But we can and do do this now.  90% of communication is non-verbal.  But we no longer have these non-verbal cues to help us to be the sane, kind, compassionate adults we are called to be.  And as a result, people's daily behavior is deteriorating at a rapid rate.

       As always then, my question is where do we go from here?  I remind all of us to work a little harder for compassion.  Try to remember that we are all struggling, all finding our way.  Mistakes happen.  Work harder to forgive.  Additionally, reach out, especially to those it would be easier to avoid.  Our call is always towards reconciliation, bridge-building, healing relationships.  We do not and cannot do that by refusing to speak to each other, by gossiping, or by attacking each other rather than listening with compassion.  

      And, as I have also said often before, remember that we have a choice about how we walk through each day.  We have a choice about our perspective.  Do we see these times as struggles?  Or as opportunities to grow and learn?  Do we see these times as nothing but hardships with people who are simply difficult?  Or do we see this time as providing us the opportunity to be brave, to reach out to those with whom we disagree or are struggling and to find a new way to be in community together?  I know that these dualisms are not realistic always.  We will usually see both the bad and hopefully some of the good.  We will recognize that there are hardships and gifts in this time.  But I encourage all of us to focus on the good in our own lives so that we have the strength to deal with the challenges that we all face.  Listen for God's call to you today.  Listen to the ways in which we are being challenged to grow in our understanding of the connectionality, the interdependence of all things.  We need each other.  As we can remember this, it will help us to choose kindness.

       My prayers are with us all as we continue to navigate these troubling waters.  May you find a place to breathe, a space to be.  May you be held by your love for one another.  And may you be emboldened to speak from places of love, compassion and forgiveness rather than from places of rage and pain.

Sunday, September 13, 2020

Lead us Not Into Temptation

 

Genesis 2:4b-7, 15-17; 3:1-8,

Matthew 4:1-11

               A pastor was late for a memorial service which he was leading at a church other than his own in the city.  After driving around and around searching for a parking place, he finally parked his car in a tow-away zone and left a note on his windshield that said, “I am a pastor who was late for a memorial service.  Forgive us our trespasses.”  When he was done with the service he found on his car a ticket along with a note which said, “If I don’t ticket you, I lose my job.  Lead us not into temptation.”

              Our lives are filled with temptations.  And as we read today, it is a common theme in scripture as well.  The responses to those temptations obviously vary.  Adam and Eve’s response was perhaps more like our own in the face of serious temptations.  They were told the forbidden fruit was good food.  Then they were told that it would give them knowledge of good and evil.  Finally, they were offered the hope of divinity, told that they would become like God, full of power, after they ate of it.  For Adam and Eve, these temptations were too great and they ate.  Jesus was offered very similar temptations.  First he was tempted to make bread out of the rocks – food.  Second he was asked to test God to gain directly the knowledge of the depth of God’s love for him.  And finally Satan offered Jesus power and the strength to rule over all the kingdoms of earth.  But unlike Adam and Eve, Jesus did not succumb to those temptations. 

               I think it is important to note that for all three: Adam, Eve and Jesus, the first temptation was about simple fulfillment of a need: about food, about eating.  Is this normally something we would consider bad or think of as a temptation?  To simply fulfill a need that we have?  To EAT?  Of course not.  So what, then, is the message in this for us? 

               Temptation has more to do with how something specific affects our relationships with God, with others, and even with ourselves, than it has to do with a particular substance or particular action.  Good things can still become temptations if used to keep God or others at a distance, or if they are used to injure ourselves in unhealthy ways.  For Adam, Eve and Jesus, this was not so much about eating as about disobeying or distancing themselves from what was right.  Similarly, for us, many temptations are not evils in themselves, but within a context or relationship with God and one another.  We know, for example, that chocolate has some good and healthy aspects to it and is not a bad thing in itself.  But I have to admit that as I was writing this sermon I was sitting on my couch eating an entire bag of chocolate kisses.  By the time I was halfway through, I was sicker than a dog, too sick to finish the sermon that day.  Too sick to pay attention to my kids or to do the other work I needed to get done that day.  It’s a good thing I write my sermons a couple weeks ahead, or it could have caused problems for more than just myself and my family.  This was a giving in to temptation – doing something that was not good for myself and by extension, for my family.  We all know that alcohol and other much more serious addictions can injure our relationships with others and even with God.  These things are not necessarily bad in themselves, but anything, when overused, can become a serious problem.  This can be the case with almost anything.  Work is generally a good thing, for example.  Obviously it supports us: brings in income, and it can give our lives a sense of purpose and meaning.  But, if we become workaholics, if our job is taking too much time, attention and care away from our families, away from our time with God, away from being loving, giving people, then it can become a temptation, it can turn into a sin that we need to face, understand and change. Or if in our job we are asked to do something that is against the will of God, that, too, can become a temptation to do wrong.  In the same way, television, books, FaceBook, other forms of media are not bad in themselves.  We can learn a great deal from media sources, social media can help us connect with one another, time spent in these ways can help us relax and unwind, all of these things can be a way to help us, heal us and can be a way to build relationships with others, to stay connected, especially during a time such as this one with the pandemic.  But it can also become dangerous.  Through social media, especially perhaps, we can become entrenched in one-sided deeply divisive political positions that prevent us from hearing our brothers and sisters who have differing view points, that prevent us from relating or even speaking to people who disagree with us, that encourage division rather than bridge building and entrenching in thought rather than being open to learning.  These can also be extremely time/ energy/ interest consuming activities.  I remember visiting someone once who had a TV on in every single room.  This constant noise and distraction prevented the members of the family who lived there from having any kind of quality conversations or relationships with each other.  It also took time away from God, from prayer, from listening and being with God.  This addiction to the TV, often now replaced with addictions to our phones, to social media, can become a strong temptation, something we should work to limit.  Jesus determined that for him, during this time of fasting and prayer, even the simple creation of food would have been a temptation.  If even basic food can become such a temptation, the call is clear for us to examine what in our lives keeps us from deepening our relationships with God and with each other.

              15 years ago a group of women from the church I was serving at the time went to see Eve Ensler’s production “The Good Body.”  In this performance she talked about female obsession and dis-ease with our bodies that is so prevalent in our culture, as well as in many cultures around the world.  In particular she focused on her own hatred of her stomach which she saw as fat, round, not flat, not perfect, not “good.”  After an hour and a half of sharing different stories about women’s struggles with body image and in particular her won, she ended “The Good Body” by telling a story about a trip she made to Afghanistan.  There, she said, all people, but especially the women, experienced great oppression under the Taliban.  But out of all the stories of oppression, of torture, or abuse that Eve heard and saw, Eve found herself especially upset by a story in which several women were imprisoned and severely beaten by the Taliban for eating ice-cream, which was forbidden.  She could not let go of her own distress about this, and eventually her hosts in Afghanistan told her that something needed to be done.  They told her it was time for her to do the forbidden task of eating ice cream in Afghanistan.  Together Eve and her hosts went to a place in the middle of the open market downtown that was secret, was screened off, was silent.  All of them knew that if they were caught with the ice cream, they would be beaten, imprisoned, perhaps even executed, depending on the mood of the Taliban officers of the day.  But there they were sitting together, listening to the Taliban circling around outside, still about to share this forbidden ice cream together.  As she raised the ice cream to her lips, as she ate of the fruit the Taliban called forbidden, Even realized that the statement she was making along with the others, that grabbing of freedom, that rebellion and solidarity in the illegal act of enjoying this food was more important, much more important than the fat of her stomach, than the calories, than the struggle with body image.  Here was something more important than all of that.  Here was life, here was solidarity, here was a statement about standing up to oppression at whatever risk for the sake of saying, “ I will not idly stand by while my sisters are being tortured for living their lives.  I will not be distracted by my own self-concerns in the face of their dying even as they struggle to live.”  Her obsession with her body had been a sin – she was tempted as people all over the world are, to get caught up in something that was not so important, something that was not about life, nor about love, nor really about taking are of herself; caught up in an obsession, a temptation that by taking her time, energy and focus was robbing her and those around her of deeper connections with each other, and with God.

               While the specifics of the temptations that Jesus faced in today’s scripture were probably different than the specifics of those things that tempt us, this gospel story has much to say to us about the ways in which we are tempted.  Jesus said “if someone asks for your coat, give him your shirt too.”  We are not to ask when someone asks us for something, when our resources are being called upon, whether or not those asking are somehow “deserving”.  That is never a question Jesus says we are to ask.  We are to give to all in need, regardless of their situation.  But we, like Jesus, often find ourselves tempted, I would say, by our rationalizing minds.  For Jesus the rationalized response to the tempter might have been “well, it would be easy to turn these stones into bread.  And I would prove to myself and to everyone around that I really was God’s son.  Why, then, shouldn’t I do this?”  For us the rationalizing goes, “Well, they might misuse my resources.  I might be supporting their addiction.  If I give them what they ask for, they may just keep begging and not get off their feed and help themselves.”  Well, these sound like good arguments.  Yes, they might misuse what we give them.  Yes, they might not get up on their own two feet and they might stay where they are.  And yet, we are commanded to give anyway.  The temptation to listen to our own rationalizing, rather doing what we are called to do, this is a temptation that most people find hard to resist.

               In Jesus’ second temptation he was tempted to test God’s love for him.  The basis of the temptation was scripture – from Psalm 91 which says, “God will command the angels concerning you and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”  Many of us have been tempted, I think, to test God’s love and care for us in various ways.  We also may find ourselves at times compelled to rationalize or even use scripture to justify behaviors that are unloving and therefore against God’s will.  Paul talks about separating ourselves from those who are a “bad influence” – those who might lead you astray.  Many churches, especially fundamentalist churches, use this scripture as an excuse to separate themselves from the rest of the world, even from family members who do not share the same belief systems.  But this is in direct conflict with Jesus’ example to us of eating with sinners, of claiming to come to the unrighteous rather than the righteous.  It is in great contrast to his command to us to love our enemies, to feed the poor, to visit those in prison.  It is also against his call to go and make disciples of the nations: if we cannot talk to non-Christians, surely we will have a hard time sharing with them the love of God.  Many of us may have also been tempted to support the “eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth” scripture, again ignoring that Jesus directly spoke against this text telling us to turn the other cheek and to do better.  This, too, is  a hard temptation to resist.

               Finally, Jesus’ last temptation took the form of bribery.  He was told that if he bowed down to the tempter, he would be given power over all kingdoms and nations.  For us the bribe may not be the rule and reign of all kingdoms.  But we still negotiate with temptation in the form of pay-offs for ourselves.  “If I don’t give to this person, I’ll have more for myself and my family.  If I were to help so and so, I might have less time for my family, even less time for God,” we might tell ourselves.  “If I ignore that racist comment, maybe that person will like and accept me.”  “If I choose not to stand up against injustice, maybe I’ll be more secure in my job.”  “If I am just quiet and don’t speak the truth, maybe I’ll still have this friendship, that friendship, this relationship, that relationship.”  All of these temptations are very compelling, aren’t they?  It is no wonder that Jesus taught us to ask in the Lord’s prayer that we might be kept away from temptation.  Evil is subtle.  It distracts us.  It calls to us.  It is a slippery slope, “It’ll be okay if I do just this one little thing” leads to, “well, I did that, so perhaps it’s not such a big deal if I also do this.” Which leads to, “well, I guess it doesn’t really matter what I do, so I may as well do what I want.”

               But we are called to resist temptation, like Jesus did.  We see what happens when we don’t: the story of Adam and Eve is a story about all hell being broken loose, as it was.  And Jesus’ story is about the ushering in of heaven.  What will we do with the temptations that are before us?  Will we even recognize them when they come?  We are called to face the temptations of life and to say “no”.  It is obviously not easy to do this.  But we are called to it for the sake of our relationships with God, with one another, and even with ourselves.  What is in the way of your relationships with God and one another? 

               “Lead us not into temptation” we pray every week.  But even as we pray, we know that we will and do face temptations daily.  So I add this prayer for you all today: “God, help us to see clearly the temptations that do fall our way.  And God, when we do see them, give us the strength to say “no”, to strive to do better, to find another way.”  That is my prayer for you, that is my prayer for me, that is my prayer for us all.  Amen.

Thursday, September 10, 2020

Confidentiality, Anonymity, Privacy and Healthy Communication

           This last Sunday our lectionary passage was the one in which Jesus talks about how you are to talk to people directly when you are upset with them.  We are not to talk ABOUT people, but TO people, one on one, when we are upset.  If that doesn’t work, we can take someone along as a “witness”, not as someone to back up our claim, or to be our voice for us, or to defend us, or to interfere in anyway.  They come as a witness.  Why?  Because we don’t always hear one another well.  I’d actually take that a step farther and say we rarely hear each other well, especially when we are upset.  But when there is another person present, we tend to hear better.  It is almost as if their ears, and their way of hearing extend out to us and enable us to hear through more clearly, if only a little bit.  A witness is a gift to both parties because both can hear better in the presence of a third person, assuming that person is able to truly be a “witness” rather than someone who is taking sides.

There are many things that can be said about all of this.  My last sermon focused on gossip and why it is so harmful, especially if given power.  But today I want to take that a step further because I realize people easily become confused about what is gossip versus what is processing.  And more, what is confidentiality versus what is anonymity.  And what is therefore healthy in different situations.

Do we need to process through what we will say when we do talk to people with whom we are upset?  Sometimes we do.  It helps us to think aloud about what we will say and how we will say it.  It also can help us to talk through whether or not we are really upset about something or whether we have taken offense when none was meant, intended or even an appropriate response to what was said or done.  But there is a difference between processing and gossiping.

1. Are we talking about the problem because we plan to address it and need to work through how we will do that (processing) or are we talking about it to try to garner support for our side, for our position, while discrediting, devaluing, or disempowering the other person (gossiping)?

2. Are we sharing a story that is ours to work through (processing) or are we sharing someone else’s story that really has very little to do with us (gossiping)?

3. Am I talking to someone who will keep what I share to themselves and who is able to recognize that all stories have more than one side and that I am only sharing my own in order to think through my future responses (processing), or are we talking to someone who will spread around what I say, contribute to the creation of schisms, or feel the need to “take up our cause” which disempowers me in my ability to repair and tackle my issue directly with another (gossiping)? 

         These are not small or insignificant questions that we should ask ourselves when we are talking with others.  These questions are vitally important to the health of a community and how we move through.

       Then we come to the question of anonymity vs confidentiality.  Confidentiality is the keeping of another’s story to ourselves.  It is the decision to honor what someone tells us as simply and wholly between that person and us.  Confidentiality is important in that it protects a person’s story, allows a person to share their experiences in a place and in a way that is safe, honors the reality that someone’s story is theirs and only theirs to share.

      Anonymity has to do more with sharing what was said or what occurred but not revealing who said it or did it.  Pastors tend to use “anonymity” when they preach stories.  They often share stories without revealing who the stories involve.  It is extremely important that when this is done, it is done in a way that does not lead the listeners to “figure out” or even to try to guess who the story was really about.  For this reason, I personally only use stories about people my congregation does not know and would not meet.  12-step programs also have a code of anonymity.  This allows for people to use and pass on stories that have helped them heal, but to do so in a way that preserves the privacy of individuals, that does not ever reveal their identity.  

        In these contexts, both confidentiality and anonymity have their place.  People usually do not have a problem understanding confidentiality, though sometimes they forget to uphold or honor it.  “You never told me not to tell” is a common excuse for passing along another person’s story.  But the truth is, we should never pass along other people’s stories, but should assume confidentiality when a story is told to us that is about the teller and is only the teller’s experience and story to tell.  

       Anonymity is harder for people.  People often use the word “anonymity” and sometimes the word “confidentiality” as a way to pass along critiques, judgements, and accusations, without revealing where they originated.  But this is extremely damaging and unhealthy for a number of reasons:

1. We are called to be communities where people have, claim and use their voices to speak their own truths.  “Anonymity” in the sense of passing along a critique someone else has told us does not empower other people to speak for themselves, to own their truth, and to deal with their issues, complaints, and difficulties directly.

2. When comments are "anonymous", it is difficult to get a handle on how serious, pervasive or widespread the critique or problem really is.  The person or groups receiving negative feedback can feel that everyone is against them, and that everyone does not have the courage to speak to them directly. They can start feeling anxious or negative towards the group as a whole.  This usually backfires and has the opposite result intended.  Instead of the problem then being addressed and worked on, those receiving the critique often can become entrenched in their behavior, either from a place of feeling, “nothing I do is right” or from a place of being truly unclear about what is being asked.  

3.      Often there are people on both sides of an divisive issue who are unhappy with a decision.  If only one voice is passed along, and it is anonymously quoted, a clear picture of the reality of the situation is not being offered. 

4. If a person offering a critique is “anonymous” there is no way to ask for clarity, to work together to bridge, understand, reconcile or work through the problem.  

5. Hearing a story second or third hand is a guarantee that what we are hearing is not completely what was intended or meant.  We all hear, understand and take in comments differently.  So, whatever someone else tells us will change slightly in the re-telling, regardless of our best intentions.  Encouraging people to speak their truth directly allows for communication first hand, and offers up the possibility of truly working through problems in healthy ways.

        The basic rule of healthy church communities in dealing with complaints: if a person does not own their own words, the critique should be discounted.  In other words, the anonymous letters that come to a church go directly into the garbage.  This is also true of anonymous comments.  If a person is unwilling to stand behind their words, they should not be spoken.  Period.  Using “anonymity” as a shield in the church allows for gossip to run rampant, it does not encourage people to claim their own power and voice, and it creates turmoil, dissention, and rifts in communities.  

          So what can we do about this?

1. If someone has something they want you to pass on to someone else, it is best to encourage that person to say it directly.  Offer to be the “witness” standing with them if they are nervous about speaking their truth, but empower them to speak with their own voice.

2. If you are a representative for a group and they are telling you as that representative, make it clear that you will tell the group who it is who has made the original comment.  If they are uncomfortable with having their name passed on, that says one of three things:

      a. They aren’t comfortable because they know or suspect that part of what they are saying is false.

     b. They do not feel the church or group is “safe” for them to speak their truth.  If this is the case, it needs to be addressed.

     c. They want the complaint to appear more general than it is. If there is no name attached to the complaint, then it looks like it might be more than one person.

3. Be consistent about all of this.

        The unfortunate truth is that when you try to change a long-standing pattern in a community, there will be push-back.  Change does not happen overnight.  And people do not tend to like change, especially when it involves changing something that is basic to a group’s culture.  People may stop sharing their complaints and feelings all together for a while in reaction to the new policy.  But people are not good at holding on to their feelings over the long run, and my experience is that communities not only adjust, but come to appreciate the change.  They will learn that their voices are valued, they will feel empowered to speak for themselves and own their own words, and they will be more thoughtful about their complaints and critiques, taking time before speaking them (always a good thing for any community!).  

        I know none of this is easy.  But we are called to be in community together.  And that means working hard to hear, support, speak and be brothers and sisters to one another.  Setting policies that encourage direct communication and bridge building is just one step in becoming healthier, thriving communities.

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Truth Telling

(I apologize that the spacing, etc is so weird.  Blogger has changed things and I can't seem to edit some of the hidden codes in this to fix it). 

James 1:19-27, Matthew 18:15-22, Luke 11:2-4

            Today’s passage from Matthew is a familiar one.  It comes around every three years through the regular lectionary, as it has this week.  But it is also a familiar passage because I think we refer to it often in our congregations when we are talking about confrontation, problems, disagreements, and how to work them through.  We all know that people almost universally in our culture find it easier and more compelling to talk about one another than to talk to one another.  And we know that this is a serious problem in many communities, but perhaps especially in the church.  In professional settings behaviors such as gossip and talking behind backs tends to be more regulated and have more consequences.  But in volunteer communities, such as the church, people can behave in ways that are very destructive.  For example, the tendency towards gossip is strong everywhere, but in our congregations perhaps it is even more so.  It happens in every congregation.  But I think one of the number one signs of the health of a congregation is how much power that gossip is given within a church community.  Do people take what they hear through gossip, treat it as “truth” and pass it forward, anonymously?  Or do they insist that people speak only for themselves, telling their own stories only, not what “someone in the church has said”? 

         The congregation that I served in Ohio was, frankly, an incredibly healthy congregation.  And when someone tried to spread nasty gossip, or to attack others behind their backs, not only were those comments not treated as ‘truth”, not only were they not passed along, but the people who the gossips tried to attack were NEVER told, “someone in the church told me in confidence, but I think you should know…”  Or “I can’t tell you who said this, but x, y, z.”  These are unhealthy behaviors.  If someone has said something, we are told in Matthew, they need to speak it directly to the person, to claim it, to own it.  If they have to hide behind, “well, don’t tell anyone where you heard this,” or “don’t tell so-and-so that I said this” then it should NEVER be said in the first place.  If we cannot own the stories we are speaking, they should never be spoken.  And if it is someone else’s story, it is never ours to share.  The only anecdote to the poison of gossip is transparency.  I want to say that again: the ONLY anecdote to the poison of gossip is transparency.  That means owning what we are saying, not passing on things that are not ours to tell, making sure that everyone owns their own actions and own words. 

Why?  Well, this is important for a multitude of reasons. 

We all know the story of the game operator.  One person whispers a story to another.  That person doesn’t quite hear it the way it was said, or more often, the way it was intended and whispers it to the next person.  By the time it comes back to the original speaker again, it has changed into something unrecognizable.  Gossip recreates that game, usually in destructive ways.  This is not because people are intentionally unkind.  It’s just that we all like a good drama and so we tend, both in our hearing but also in our retelling of events, to build them up, just a little, which then is built up more by the next person, etc.  I think about the parishioner of one of my congregations who told me she was leaving the church because of something she had heard.  What she told me she had heard had maybe 5% truth in it.  But she believed it.  When asked who told her this, she hid behind “confidentiality” which meant that there was no possible way to do the truth telling that was needed in the community to dispel this particular rumor.  She left because she gave gossip power; the power to determine for her what was true.  She clung to the gossip, even when faced with the truth, and she left the church body because of it.  Her story is not unique.  This happens everywhere, and it is one of the many reasons Jesus wrote that when we are upset with someone or hurt by someone we are to go to them directly, speak to them directly.  Not talk ABOUT it, but talk TO the persons with whom we are having issues. 

There is another important reason why we should own our own stuff, not gossip, not speak for or about others.  And that is that when we choose to champion someone else’s problem for them, we believe we are doing something good, something heroic and kind even.  We are standing up for someone.  We are being their savior, defender.  But the truth is that what we are really doing is saying that that person is weak, incapable of defending themself, incapable of speaking their own truth.  We are not respecting or honoring someone by doing the work of speaking for them. 

My family watched Murdock Mysteries for a time.  This is a historical fiction murder mystery series that takes place in the early 1900’s.  At one point the woman coroner, Julia Ogden, is arguing with the chief of police.  She is holding her own, but she at one point turns to Murdock who is just watching the argument and not saying anything.  She expresses frustration that he is not defending her and stomps out of the police station.  Later she confronts him on it.  “Why didn’t you defend me!”  To which he replied, “you did not need me to do that for you!  I knew that you were a strong enough woman that you did not need to be ‘rescued’ or ‘saved’ by the big powerful man.   If I had jumped in, the police chief never would have come to respect YOUR strength and your ability to speak for yourself as a full human being.”  Julia was stunned, but also realized the truth of what Murdock had said.  If he had jumped in to “rescue” her, it would have been a strong statement of her inability to stand up for herself and be counted as a full adult to be respected and trusted for her own words and abilities.

We do and should stand up for children. But we also know that it is more important for us to empower them to speak for themselves. We should and do stand up for people who are oppressed by the larger system.  But in doing so, we are recognizing that they have limited power and that it is much, much better to empower their words than to speak for them.  When we choose to “stand up” for someone else, we are taking away from them the power they do have on their own: we are lessening their perceived strength if not, in fact, their actual strength.  We diminish them in so doing.  

A third reason we should not do this is that those who are victimized by our unkindness, by our gossiping, by our slander, by our love of drama and our failure to listen tend to be the people who have less privilege in the first place.  They have less privilege for a number of reasons: fewer social skills, less standing in the community: or in the larger world, less power because of being marginalized for one reason or another.  We are called to “check our privilege” and to not live that out or act that out.   

To take that a step further, a commentary written by Audrey West in the Working Preacher said it this way, “This passage (from Matthew on how to confront) can easily become dangerous and abusive if it is interpreted in the context of either individualism or legalism, both of which can result in the attempted control and manipulation of the offender due to a sense of victimization.”

The truth of this is obvious when we hear white people claiming to be victims of racism.  We are the people in power.  But when we abuse that privilege by claiming to be the victims ourselves, we control the situation in dangerous ways. Sometimes those with “lesser” power use these behaviors, gossip, victimization, to reclaim their own power.  But there is great danger in doing so.

In the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Toula was upset because her father had told her that she cannot go to college.  In his words, “women don’t need education.”  And Toula approached her mother in tears saying, “Dad is so stubborn.  And what he says goes.  ‘The man is the head of the house.’”  Her mother responded with, “Let me tell you something, Toula.  The man is the head of the house.  But the woman is the neck.  And she can turn the head any way she wants!”  At the time that I heard that, I was impressed with that thinking.  In Patriarchal cultures and families, then, there still is some power in the female of the couple.  But then I saw the way in which she claimed her power.  And it was through the victimization that we named before.  “Oh, so women don’t need education because we aren’t as smart?  You don’t think I’m as smart as you?”  It was manipulative, but also harmful to herself because it was lacking in honesty, it did not allow her to claim her power with authenticity or strength.

I think about the phrase I’ve heard so many people use, “Who wears the pants in the family?”  Usually what we mean by that is who appears to be in charge, the more dominant member of the household, the alpha dog as it were.  But I remember very clearly counseling a couple where the one who “wore the pants” by everyone else’s understanding really had no ultimate power because his wife again used the victimization behavior to get whatever she wanted.  If her husband would not listen to her “you’ve wronged me”, “you’ve mistreated me” statements that were made in response to any decision he made (whether it affected her or not) that she didn’t agree with, then she would take her complaint to the larger family group.  “He wronged me, he mistreated me!” until the husband was badgered, bullied and pressured into doing what she wanted.  People use victimization as a weapon, as much as others use dominance as a weapon.  They use gossip as a way to control others, to reclaim power.  But these methods of claiming power damage our own souls.  We know we are exaggerating the stories, we know that we are not being honest or truthful, we know that we are being manipulative.  And that lack of honest claiming of one’s own voice, one’s own truth harms no one more than it harms ourselves.  It obfuscates truth.  People think they are making choices based on reality, but they are not.  They are making choices based on falsehoods.  This happens at all levels: politically, personally, and in smaller communities as well.  (It takes keen perception to see where the power truly lies in any situation.  It is often not where we think it really is.)

This passage from Matthew addresses all of that.  By insisting that people stop the victimization, stop the gossiping, stop the excuse of “I was told not to say who said this but…”, all of these power plays, abuses of power and dishonest interactions are ended.  Relationships have a chance then of being restored based on honesty and truth and trust, rather than destroyed because of gossip and lies. 

I think it is vital to notice that what this passage emphasizes again and again is that true communication, healthy confrontation, a commitment to working out problems in community begins with listening.  Listening is mentioned here four times in the first three verses of this passage from Matthew.  James said it this way, “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.”

But people really struggle to listen.  And what I find the most interesting is that it is often those who claim others aren’t listening who themselves listen the least.   Let me say that another way: it is often true that no one listens less than the person who is accusing others of not listening. 

Let me give you an example.  The Presbytery I used to be part of went through a long discernment process on whether or not they would vote to support the ordination of LGBTQ+ folk.  They had three separate presbytery meetings on the issue.  At the first one a well-known speaker in favor of the ordination came and presented for an hour followed by break out groups for discussion.  Not surprisingly, those against the ordination simply chose to not attend this meeting.  They simply did not come.  The next month we reversed it.  We had someone speak against the ordination for an hour, again followed by break out groups for discussion.  Interestingly, everyone turned out for this one, even our LGBTQ+ members for whom it was an extremely painful day.  At the third meeting then we took our vote.  And as a Presbytery we voted overwhelmingly in favor of the ordination of LGBTQ+ persons.  The response from those who disagreed?  “You didn’t listen!”  The clerk of the Presbytery meeting had the numbers.  She was able to point out that everyone had shown up to hear the person arguing against this stand, and that many of those who were angry with the decision, in contrast, had chosen not to listen or attend the meeting where the person in favor of the decision had spoken.  And yet still, the cry rallied long and hard, “You didn’t listen!” 

There is a strong difference between not listening and not agreeing.  It is very possible to listen and still not agree.  But while we know that is true from our own perspectives, do we give others that same benefit of the doubt? 

So, returning to the Matthew passage and his clarity around how we are to talk to one another, especially when there are problems, what does all of this really mean?  Several things:

1.        1. First and foremost, we are called to speak directly to others when we are upset or feel mistreated about something.  I gave reasons above why this is important.  To reiterate, speaking truth directly prevents the harm of growing misinformation, it empowers others to claim their own voice and speak for themselves, and it avoids the evil and damage of malicious gossip.   2. When someone does repeat gossip to us about someone else, we need to not give it power.  That means it is OUR responsibility to say, “it sounds like you need to go and speak to that person directly.”  If they are asking you to stand up for them, ask them to come along, tell them that you will use their name if you are being asked to repeat the information.  If you hear, “please say something but don’t tell them it came from me,” then I would first off be very suspicious about the truth of the story at all.  Why don’t they want to be associated with their own words?  We must encourage one another to grow in courage if people are afraid to speak their own truth.  This is supposed to be a trusted community where people can speak for themselves.  If it is not, then work must be done to fix that. 3.       Call them on it.  “Do not tell me things that you are not willing to own.”  If that means they stop gossiping to you?  That would be a good thing!  Maybe less interesting story and drama for you, but in the end, a healthier, safer community.  4.       Refuse to repeat gossip.  Again, if it is not your story to tell, don’t tell it.  Give others enough credit and respect to believe they have the strength to speak for themselves and do not need you to treat them as a child needing you to defend them.  They can speak directly about their own upsets and you should do the same.  Go directly to those who hurt you, not to other people trying to drum up their support for your cause.  5.       Choose transparency therefore.  Speak your truth and YOUR truth only.  Speak it directly. 6.       And finally, and what is most important in all of this: today’s passage from Matthew ends with forgiveness.  There is a reason that the passages on forgiving is part of this mandate to speak directly to people when you are harmed or upset.  Do your best to reconcile.  Speak your truth.  But beyond all of that, let it go and forgive.  Jesus says, “if they don’t listen then, treat them as a gentile or tax collector.”  How did Jesus treat the Gentiles and tax collectors?  He loved them, he forgave them repeatedly, he invited them into relationship.  In other words, if they don’t listen, love them anyway.  Let it go.  Forgive.  One of my colleagues in ministry said to our lectionary group this week, “the one thing Satan can’t tolerate is forgiveness”.  Yes.  Because evil thrives on our anger, on our hate, on our rage, on our inability to be open and compassionate, and grace-full and loving.  When we choose compassion and grace and forgiveness, we are freed.  As the Lord’s Prayer teaches us, God is OUR parent, Our father – this is communal.  We are stuck with one another.  And the question for us, then, is how do we live that out as people of faith?  As the Lord’s prayer tells us, but also as the passage in Matthew ends, we are to forgive one another again and again and again. 

    Gossip is not an act of reconciliation or forgiveness.  It is cruel, it is unkind and it is unacceptable.  Today’s passage begins with a call to go and speak directly to those who upset you.  And it ends with the call to forgiveness, not seven times, but seventy seven times.  This would have been understood at the time to mean “for good” or “completely”.  Seven was considered a number of completion.  Seven times Seventy meant “forever.”  Each week we say the Lord’s prayer and we say “forgive us our debts (or sins) as we forgive those who sin against us.”  We are praying not only for God to forgive us, but that we can forgive others.  Because the reality is that when we cannot forgive others, we cannot understand or accept the forgiveness of God into our own hearts.  It’s not because God doesn’t forgive us.  But accepting forgiveness in requires a peace that only comes from letting go of our anger towards others.  Anger is a taking a poison and expecting the other person to die.

We are not free from each other.  We are free in each other, when we can be in relationship with those who are different from ourselves and choose honest, open, transparent, forgiving, caring.

None of this is easy.  It is a growing edge for all of us.  But it is vital to a healthy and thriving community that we work on this with intention, with faith, and most of all with love.  Go and speak your truth, but do it with love, preparing always to forgive.  Amen.