Being Born From Above

 

John 3:1-21

Psalm 139:13-18

1/23/22

What happens in today’s story?  In today’s gospel reading, Nicodemus is asking literal questions which Jesus answers at many levels, the least of which is the literal.  Nicodemus’ response is to become very simply perplexed by Jesus’ answers.  He cannot move out of the literal, and Jesus becomes frustrated with him saying “Are you a teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?  …If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?”  We hear Jesus’ frustration with Nicodemus’ limited understanding and limited views.  But while we understand that when Jesus is talking about being born from above, that he is not talking about an actual second physical birth, none-the-less are we any more understanding of these difficult ideas, of these deep truths?  What does it really mean that “The wind (or spirit) blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.  So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Does it mean that we won’t recognize the Spirit because it comes unexpectedly?  Does it mean that everyone born of the Spirit is like the wind, flitting in and out?

So today, I actually want us to do something a little different.  We are going to do a study, rather than have a traditional sermon, and we are going to look at a number of different Biblical passages, all of which talk about “salvation” or “eternal life”.  I want to start by saying that I know we have different understandings within this room about what that even means, and I am not going to talk about what it means right now.  That’s for a different date.  For today I want to talk about how we get there.  Because there are a lot of different scriptures and they say different things.  So, for today I invite you to listen, to think, but also to participate with me in this, exploring these scriptures.

The first passage I want us to look at is Matthew 25, which we spend a lot of time on.  Who remembers the crux of Matthew 25:31-46?  “Now when the Human One[a] comes in his majesty and all his angels are with him, he will sit on his majestic throne.  All the nations will be gathered in front of him. He will separate them from each other, just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right side. But the goats he will put on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who will receive good things from my Father. Inherit the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world began. I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me.  I was naked and you gave me clothes to wear. I was sick and you took care of me. I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then those who are righteous will reply to him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink?  When did we see you as a stranger and welcome you, or naked and give you clothes to wear?  When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ Then the king will reply to them, ‘I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Get away from me, you who will receive terrible things. Go into the unending fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels.  I was hungry and you didn’t give me food to eat. I was thirsty and you didn’t give me anything to drink.  I was a stranger and you didn’t welcome me. I was naked and you didn’t give me clothes to wear. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’ Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and didn’t do anything to help you?’  Then he will answer, ‘I assure you that when you haven’t done it for one of the least of these, you haven’t done it for me.’  And they will go away into eternal punishment. But the righteous ones will go into eternal life.”

In this passage what determines salvation?  What is NOT mentioned here?  (faith!).

This passage in Matthew is in great contrast to the passage we just read from John.  But while the passage I read to you from John talks about faith being the doorway to God, I now would like to read to you from the book of Mark 1:21-28: “Jesus and his followers went into Capernaum. Immediately on the Sabbath Jesus entered the synagogue and started teaching. The people were amazed by his teaching, for he was teaching them with authority, not like the legal experts. Suddenly, there in the synagogue, a person with an evil spirit screamed, ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are. You are the holy one from God.’ ‘Silence!’ Jesus said, speaking harshly to the demon. ‘Come out of him!’ The unclean spirit shook him and screamed, then it came out. Everyone was shaken and questioned among themselves, ‘What’s this? A new teaching with authority! He even commands unclean spirits and they obey him!’ Right away the news about him spread throughout the entire region of Galilee.” 

Who is it in this passage that actually recognized and believed that Jesus was the Holy One, the Son of God?  Who was it?  It was the demon.  In Matthew 8 there is a story very similar to this about the demons in two men who also recognize Jesus for who he is.  They also then submitted to Jesus will.  To quote Matthew 8:32: “Then Jesus said to the demons, ‘Go away.’ And they came out and went into the pigs.”  So not only did they have faith, but they obeyed him.  Are they then saved?

Now I’d like to read from you from 1 Corinthians 12:8-10:  “A word of wisdom is given by the Spirit to one person, a word of knowledge to another according to the same Spirit, faith to still another by the same Spirit, gifts of healing to another in the one Spirit, performance of miracles to another, prophecy to another, the ability to tell spirits apart to another, different kinds of tongues to another, and the interpretation of the tongues to another.”

One of the many things that this says to me is that faith is a gift.  So, if what you need for salvation is faith, but faith is a gift from God, what does this say for those who have not been gifted by faith?  Did God pre-ordain them to not receive salvation?  Does this mean God has purposely withheld faith and therefore salvation from some?  Hm.  That wouldn’t be a very loving God would it?

One of my favorite passages is from Romans 14:8-11. “If we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord. Therefore, whether we live or die, we belong to God.  This is why Christ died and lived: so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.   But why do you judge your brother or sister? Or why do you look down on your brother or sister? We all will stand in front of the judgment seat of God.  Because it is written, As I live, says the Lord, EVERY knee will bow to me, and EVERY tongue will give praise to God.”  This is also reflected in Luke 3:4-6:  A voice crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way for the Lord; make his paths straight. Every valley will be filled, and every mountain and hill will be leveled. The crooked will be made straight and the rough places made smooth. And ALL people will see God’s salvation.”

So, the question that is raised by this for me is, if every knee will bow and every tongue give praise to God, and if all people will see God’s salvation, that sounds awfully inclusive.  And if salvation is achieved through faith or confession or belief, or even works, how does these passages fit into that?

Finally, we have the passage from John 14.  Jesus says, “I am the Truth, the Way, the Life.”  “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”  Many Christians have interpreted this to again say that all we have to do is believe.  But I don’t hear it this way.  This is about a whole lot more than believing – this is about following in and being in the “Way” and it’s about living “the Life”.  We come to God by following in or going in or being in Jesus’ way- So once again we are back to looking at what Jesus did and what we, therefore, are also called to do.  Jesus loved everyone –including his enemies – forgiving even those who killed him from the cross.  He healed the sick.  He challenged the self-righteous to act with love rather than legalism.  He fed everyone who came to him.  And we are called to do the same. 

As you know, there has been a long-standing controversy among Christians about what it really is that saves.  As these passages point out, this controversy was present from the beginning of Christianity and was therefore written into our very Biblical passages.  But I think that James sums it up for us pretty well in his second chapter vs. 14-17: “My brothers and sisters, what good is it if people say they have faith but do nothing to show it? Claiming to have faith can’t save anyone, can it?  Imagine a brother or sister who is naked and never has enough food to eat.  What if one of you said, “Go in peace! Stay warm! Have a nice meal!”? What good is it if you don’t actually give them what their body needs?  In the same way, faith is dead when it doesn’t result in faithful activity.”  We try to separate these things out, but James tells us that they really can’t be separated out.

And that leads us back to today’s passage.  In the lectionary passage today, the story of Nicodemus, while Jesus uses the phrase, “you must be born from above” and it is only Nicodemus who uses the phrase “born again”, an idea Jesus challenges as showing a lack of understanding.  It is ironic, then, that so many Christians have bought into Nicodemus’ phrasing of needing to be “born again”, not paying attention to the fact that not only is this not Jesus’ idea, but that Jesus actually gets upset with the way Nicodemus fails to understand Jesus.  We can again become Nicodemus by being literal about a need for a second birth.  We can become formulaic in our understanding of what it is to be “saved,” the very thing Jesus is confronting.  Nicodemus is trying hard to make these ideas of being born of water and spirit literal and tangible – graspable.  We understand that.  We, too, want these ideas to be understandable, clear-cut, simple and spelled out for us.  Tell us what we need to do to be saved.  Make it clear for us and easy.  But Jesus says “no”.  “Being born of water and spirit” cannot be rigid, or fixed.  If it becomes cliché or codified, it loses depth of meaning.  Being born both of water (especially in the form of baptism) and Spirit requires putting aside certitude and assumptions – that is part of what Jesus means when he declares that the Spirit will blow where it chooses and we will not know from whence it comes or where it is going.  Trying to pin down faith in a formulaic or set way cheapens it and destroys it.  Instead, being born from the spirit invites us to recognize that God’s full character as revealed in Jesus will reshape our lives only if we stay open to where the Spirit leads, to where it blows in spite of and in contrast to our assumptions and expectations. 

A tourist came too close to the edge of the Grand Canyon, lost his footing and plunged over the side, clawing and scratching to save himself.  After he went out of sight and just before he fell into space, he ran into a scrubby bush which he desperately grabbed with both hands.  Filled with terror, he called out to heaven, “is there anyone up there?”  A calm, powerful voice came out of the sky, “yes.”  The tourist pleaded, “Help me!  Help me!”  The voice responded, “Are you a believer?”  “Yes, yes!”  “Do you have faith?”  “Yes, yes!  I have strong faith.”  The voice said, “In that case, simply let loose of the bush and trust that everything will turn out fine.”  There was a tense pause, then the tourist yelled, “Is there anyone else up there?”

Having enough faith, loving others enough – striving to do these things is all part of the journey.  It is all something we grow into. The question “Have you been saved?” for me is always be answered with, “I am on the way” because it isn’t a switch – either on or off.  It is a process of becoming more faith-filled, becoming more loving, following more closely in the path of Jesus every day.  Many seem to be able to point to a moment in time when they came to faith or offered their life to Jesus.  But I see even by their actions that they are, too, are really still on their way to true faith –most have not yet reached the point where, like Jesus, they are willing to give up their lives so that others, even their enemies, may live. 

So, as always, the question remains, where is the good news in this?  All of the passages we read today give us some insight into salvation.  But the Good News is that ultimately, salvation is not about us - it is about God.  It is God who saves.  It is God who loves us.  It is God who gives us the grace that leads us “home.”   And for me, what all of these different passages say, what God’s grace points out, is that I really can’t be in the position of judging anyone else’s path.  It is not for me to limit how or to whom God’s grace extends.  My concern needs to be about following the best I can in the path.

I want to share with you a quote from Charles Peguy (French poet & essayist 1873 – 1914) “Grace is insidious.  When grace doesn’t come straight, it comes bent. When it doesn’t come from above, it comes from below. When it doesn’t come from the center, it comes from the circumference. We may finish a way we never began, but we shall finish. This age, this land, this people, this world, will get there along a road they never set out on.”

And finally, I want to end finally with a poem written by Ken Rookes intitled,

Sometimes I am born from above

Sometimes I am born from above;

my spirit soars and I sense

that greater Spirit touching and caressing

my soul. Perhaps it is merely

my imagination, but I feel myself

rising above my petty concerns,

my selfish fears. In these moments

my soul sings (with Dame Julian),

all shall be well;

and my conviction grows deeply

that I must employ all my best efforts

to make it so.

At other times

I find myself firmly tethered

to this dust-filled earth, and those same

inward preoccupations push urgently

and insistently to the front,

and I worry, like the man in the story;

will I have enough, and have I got it right,

and will those gates be opened to me?

Sometimes I am born from above

and I feel the Spirit’s wind blowing,

blowing, and hear her singing

with words outrageous

and melody unconstrained;

thus I find myself moving awkwardly

but unembarrassed amidst rhythms

half-learned, infused with life

and never fully understood.

 

Let us be open to God’s Spirit today and everyday.  Amen.

 

"I'm just being honest"

     I love that phrase, "I'm just being honest."  I equally love the phrase, "I'm just speaking my truth".  Please note the heavy sarcasm in my comments.  These are two phrases that are used to justify cruelty.  Somehow, as a culture, we believe that honesty and the integrity of being one's genuine self are acceptable excuses for truly unkind, hurtful words.  But really, are they?

    It's not that people don't need feedback.  And it's not that people don't need to hear hard truths.  We all can grow, we all can learn, we all have blind spots in our self-understanding that mean that the constructive feedback of others can help us move forward on our journeys.  Seeing things in a new way, learning how things we have been part of or have done might have caused damage: these are important lessons for all of us.  But please notice that I used the word "constructive" when I talked about feedback.  Attacking someone's personality or saying things in a way that is simply negative is not constructive.  Those comments are seldom truly heard in a way that can communicate something helpful to a person and it is extremely rare that a person can grow from mean comments.  There are ways we can communicate truths that do help people to grow, to learn, and to move.  

    Bottom line: when people say "I'm just being honest" or "I'm just speaking my truth" what I now hear is "I am being lazy" - too lazy to think through a positive, constructive, or helpful way of giving feedback or speaking truth.  There are always ways to communicate that are equally honest, but are not cruel, generalizing, vague or violent.  While it may take work to figure out how to say those things, that work is worth the effort if it actually has a chance of communicating something helpful, something important, and something that is not just inflammatory or destructive.  Cruel words are damaging, not "honest".  

    I struggle to understand, truly, why people do say those mean things.  Do they not see that this reflects much more on themself, on the kind of person they are choosing to be, than on the one they are attacking?  Do they not understand that when people hear meanness coming from someone, they are much less likely to trust and value the person expressing the cruelty than they are to then see the one who has been attacked in a negative way?  

    Unfortunately, I guess this is not universal.  I did hear someone recently extol the "loyalty" of another person, who then went on to describe that loyalty as manifesting in the attacking and unkind words they spoke to another person that they both didn't like.  I found myself staring at the one telling me of the "loyalty" of the other, wondering how long it would take them to realize that someone who is unkind is someone who is unkind.  While that person's unkindness was directed at another in this instant, how long will it take for that unkindness to circle around to the one praising it at that moment?  Not long.  Never long.  

    So, to take my own advice here, I don't want to just stay in the "attack" but also want to offer other ways we can express our truths that might be more helpful.  Using "I" phrases is always a good start.  "I feel x when you do y because of z".  "When x happened, I felt y because of z."  Those are good starts.  Wondering is also helpful, "I'm wondering about this thing over here that happened.  Can you tell me more what you were hoping for/working towards/expecting when you said or did x?"  "I'm wondering how it felt to say x?  I'm wondering what happened that led to this?"  We can learn to address specific events rather than globalizing.  Instead of "Why do you ALWAYS..." we can say, "I'm thinking about what just happened and wondering if you can tell me more about it from your perspective."  "I noticed that Saturday when Naomi said x, you responded with y and I'm wondering what that was about for you."

    I understand that sometimes these things feel contrived.  But isn't it better to work on learning to communicate in helpful ways?  It may take practice, but we can learn and then it will become second nature and not feel contrived anymore.

    I write this to myself as well.  I am currently wondering what led that person to use that phrase, "I'm just being honest." And I'm feeling sad that I heard it yet again because it triggered for me memories of when, as a child, another child used that as an excuse to say unspeakably cruel things.  I wonder what they were hoping to communicate.  And I'm hoping that I can learn more from the underlying beliefs and ideas when I am able to ask deeper questions.  

    One step at a time, here.  One step at a time.

Righteous Anger

 

1/16/22

John 2:13-25

Psalm 127:1-2

 

               Today we hear the story of Jesus chasing the money changers from the temple.  It is the strongest example we have of Jesus becoming angry and acting out of that anger.  And while we know and we understand that his anger was righteous anger, I am certain the people who were using the temple as a market did not feel the same way.  They saw his anger as an action of his claiming authority that he then failed (in their minds) to prove that he had a right to.  They in turn became angry, and I am certain that they, in turn, felt that their anger was righteous.  So how can we tell the difference?  How do we know when our anger is truly righteous or not?

               Anger is, almost always, a secondary emotion.  What that means is that it is a mask, or a cover, for a deeper primary emotion such as sadness or fear.  We may feel that sadness or fear are unacceptable, or “weak” so we move into anger as a result.  Sadness or weakness may hurt more, so that is another reason we move into anger.  When we look at the anger of the crowds in response to Jesus’ anger, we can see that their primary emotions were probably fear: fear of change, fear of being hurt as he was driving them out, fear of losing the income that their marketing in the temple was providing, fear of change.  They may also have been feeling guilt: which is also a primary emotion: guilt that he was calling them on their behavior, guilt that he was pointing out that what they were doing was wrong in God’s eyes, guilt that they hadn’t figured that out, addressed it, changed it themselves.  Their anger was not righteous anger for many reasons, but first of all because it was a cover up of these deeper feelings.

               So again, what is righteous anger?  Righteous Anger, according to many, involves three things: 1.  It reacts against actual wrongs: mistreatment, insult or malice of another.  Injustice towards others.  2.  Righteous anger focuses on God and on God’s concerns for the world.  It is not for one’s self: it is not about an offense towards you or something that personally offends you.  3.  Righteous anger is always self-controlled.  It does not retaliate or lose its temper.  It expresses itself in ways that are creative, that have purpose, and that change things for the better.  It is not destructive, abusive, withdrawing, passive-aggressive, or harming of anyone else.  It is not revenge, punishment or retaliation. 

Jesus’ anger was not for himself.  He was angry because their behavior did not honor God.  He didn’t care about the loss he, personally, would experience, in telling them to stop acting this way in the temple.  He did not focus on what it was costing him to point out their mistakes, their mis-steps.  His anger was righteous because it was inspired first and foremost by unjust behavior, and it was an expression of his care for God and God’s people.   The unjust behavior he was confronting was consistent, was long-standing, and again, did not affect him directly.  These are all signs of what makes anger righteous anger.  And his actions were about bringing positive change to the temple: no longer using it as a market but once again as a place of worship.  And even though it came out as angry, it was still controlled.  He did not injure people or animals in the process of chasing them out.   

I think as people we have a hard time with all of this.  We jump to anger easily in our culture, squashing down sadness, guilt or fear because we see these as weak or they are uncomfortable.  We jump to anger easily as a way to avoid self-reflection, too.  If we are angry, the problem is out there, and does not require us to look at ourselves to do the work within.  Even when we are angry on behalf of another person, our behavior often is retaliatory, punishing, revengeful, and an inability to hear any side other than the one we have chosen to hear is dangerous and damaging to relationships, to communities, and to the people who suffer our rage. 

But we are called to have compassion.  And that compassion has to start with compassion towards ourselves.  What are we afraid of?  What are we grieving?  Change is hard for all of us, and often the thing we fear is simply a change, a change we did not want, a change we did not anticipate.  The more our hearts are broken by something that has happened, is happening or will happen, the more we avoid those feelings of hurt and pain and opt for anger instead.

Parker J. Palmer wrote in  A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life, “There are at least two ways to understand what it means to have our hearts broken. One is to imagine the heart broken into shards and scattered about-a feeling most of us know, and a fate we would like to avoid. The other is to imagine the heart broken open into new capacity-a process that is not without pain but one that many of us would welcome. As I stand in the tragic gap between reality and possibility, this small, tight fist of a thing called my heart can break open into greater capacity to hold more of my own and the world's suffering and joy, despair and hope.”

But the challenge, of course, of coming into that place of openness is that it hurts.  And we don’t like to hurt.  Bryan Stevenson said that fear and anger, however, are the essential components of injustice.  They are the essential components of injustice.  We therefore have to be aware of the roots of our anger, the deep roots within ourselves of any anger.  And we have to be committed to dealing with it directly, creatively, and kindly.  Anger can become a habit.  And it is a dangerous habit to practice.  As Mitch Albom said in, “the Five People you Meet in Heaven” (p141)  “Learn this from me.  Holding anger is a poison.  It eats you from the inside.  We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us.  But hatred is a curved blade.  And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.”

Bishop Michael Curry took on the work of supporting LGBTQ clergy within the Episcopal denomination.  This did not go over well, and he experienced a lot of anger that came his way, anger that people believed was “righteous” because they believed they were speaking for God.  Again, they were not.  They were acting out their own fear of that which they did not understand.  And they were acting out their own sadness over the loss of control over a group of people.  He was attacked repeatedly, but he recognized that his own anger, his own righteous anger, would not be righteous if he was acting out of revenge, out of a desire to harm or punish those who had harmed and punished him.  He wrote, “My only challenge was learning how to receive anger and not give it back in return.  I needed to do something very difficult: to stand and kneel at the same time.  I needed to sand in my conviction, laying out what I believed and why.  And when the response was anger, I needed to learn to kneel before it.  Believe me, standing in self-righteousness is so much easier.  But when you’re facing someone else who feels as strongly in their conviction as you do, anger is totally unproductive.  Actually it’s counterproductive.  You’ve got to create space for the other person.  This is the dance of nonviolent change.  You develop the spiritual discipline of receiving and then letting go, receiving and letting go, receiving then letting go.  This isn’t easy and it’s even harder if the anger is coming at you from people you love and cherish, rather than strangers.  I found it helpful to remember a few things.  First, I wasn’t God.  No one is God.  And therefore, I was not the ultimate decider of who was right.  I could only do what I believed to be right as best I could discern it.  Second, this wasn’t about me, ultimately.  They weren’t angry at me, but at what I represented. … If you know your own purpose, you can stay out of the emotional fray your beliefs may stir up in others.  If I reacted in anger, I would add even more destructive anxiety to the situation.  I knew enough about human nature to know that a sense of safety, not anxiety, is what puts people in a space to open their hearts to change.  Third, I started intentionally praying for (those) who were speaking against me. I didn’t pray for them to change their minds.  I prayed for them as children of God.”

Anger is a feeling, and as such it is not “bad” in itself.  It is there to tell us there is work to be done.  However, usually that work to be done is internal and we have the job of remembering that to be so.  Anger is not bad.  But we must be very careful what we do with it.  And we need to be very aware that most of the time, our anger is not righteous anger.  Remember, righteous anger is addressing an injustice, it is not about you, and it never is acted out in retaliatory or damaging ways.  If we can remember this, it can help us to deal with it in healthier ways.

I think in the end, it helps to remember that all things pass.  We can endure the struggles and pain of today because this, too, will pass.  We can face our demons, look inside, confront that which is hard for us to face, lean away from anger as a secondary emotion and into our sadness, guilt, fear, for what it is.  We can do this knowing that it will not last, and that doing the inner work will move us through the pain more quickly and more fully than the anger block that we set up can ever.  It will do that because the anger is a lie.  It is hiding the real feelings underneath.  And until we get to those real feelings, we cannot heal them.

        I found this poem about change that I wanted to share with you:

Ø  On the Vanity of Earthly Greatness by Arthur Guiterman (forwarded by Gordon)

The tusks which clashed in mighty brawls

Of mastodons, are billiard balls

 

The sword of Charlemagne the Just

Is Ferric Oxide, known as rust

 

The grizzly bear, whose potent hug,

Was feared by all, is now a rug.

 

Great Caesar’s bust is on the shelf,

And I don’t feel so well myself.

 

All of these will pass.  But God’s love will remain.  We can rest in that truth.

So, is there a time for righteous anger?  Yes.  Jesus showed us that there was.  But I think we need to be very, very careful about when our anger is, indeed righteous and when it is “self-righteous” instead.  Does that mean we won’t get angry as a secondary emotion?  We will.  We are all human and we will.  But being able to step back, to own what is ours versus what is not, that is a start.  We are called into community, and community also means that we have to be very careful about how that anger is expressed.  Again, retaliation, abuse, passive aggressive actions and withdrawing should not be options for those committed to relationship, to community and to following God’s call for us.  Will we mess up?  Of course.  But that call to self-reflection will be there to help us once more. 

        Our feelings, even anger, are gifts because they call us to pay attention to what is really going on.  They call us to self-reflection, they call us into conversation, hopefully, with God.  The decisions to act out our feelings: these should take more time.  But even when we act out of our anger, the good news is always that God gives us another chance, more opportunities to learn, to grow and to choose differently the next time.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

 

Epiphany in Three Parts

 

John 2:1-11

Psalm 104:14-16

1/9/22

               The 6^th of January is the actual day set aside for the celebration of Epiphany.  That is the official end of the Christmas season or the 12 days of Christmas.  Do you remember what Epiphany actually means?  According to several different dictionaries, here are the definitions:

·        the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12).

• the festival commemorating the Epiphany on January 6.
• a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.
• a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

In the church, however, we recognize that Epiphany actually has three parts.  We say that the “manifestation of God” is revealed in these three parts.  The first part then is when the Magi show us that Christ was made manifest not only to the Israelites, but to all people.  They themselves were not Israelites and yet they were witnesses to Christ’s coming.  The second part is the Baptism of Christ in which God proclaims Jesus as God’s son.  And the third is what is described in the gospel of John as Jesus’ first miracle which we read about today – turning water into wine.  All three of these, together, are the epiphany because all three of these are thought to manifest or reveal who Jesus is.  But I find the lectionary texts for today to be extremely interesting because today is “Baptism of the Lord” Sunday and yet we are not hearing about the baptism.  Instead, we are remembering the turning of the water into wine.  We will come back to this in a minute.

               Looking at this passage, this story of Jesus turning the water into wine, there is so much here inviting reflection.  What does it mean, for example, that Jesus’ first miracle was one of celebration?  His first miracle was not of healing someone, or raising someone from the dead (like Lazarus).  It wasn’t raising someone out of oppression, or restoring a person back into their community. It wasn’t feeding people.  Jesus’ first miracle wasn’t about doing anything NECESSARY, or liberating, or holistic.  Or rather, it wasn’t doing anything that most of us consider necessary.  But the very fact that this was his first miracle, one of enhancing celebration, adding to the celebration of a wedding, of commitments made and the community gathering, has a great deal to say to us about what God values about humanity.  The miracle was one of extreme abundance and abundance in the form of joy, of good things, of life, of happiness, of celebration.  Remember that the amount we are talking about here of water turned into wine was about 40 gallons.  This isn’t a small amount: this is a huge, overabundant amount.  And the point here?  We aren’t meant to simply survive this life.  We aren’t meant to simply grow through and from this life.  We are meant to celebrate it, and to celebrate it abundantly.  Remember, Jesus came eating and drinking.  As one commentator said, “God does not want our religion to be too holy to be happy in.” (Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary - Feasting on the Word – Year C, Volume 1: Advent through Transfiguration.)

               I’m reminded of a praise song called Thrive.  The lyrics:

Here in this worn and weary land
Where many a dream has died
Like a tree planted by the water
We never will run dry
So living water flowing through
God, we thirst for more of You
Fill our hearts and flood our souls with one desire
Just to know You and to make You known
We lift Your name on high
Shine like the sun, make darkness run and hide
We know we were made for so much more than ordinary lives
It's time for us to more than just survive
We were made to thrive

…

Joy unspeakable, faith unsinkable

Love unstoppable, anything is possible

We know we were made for so much more than ordinary lives.

It’s time for us to more than just survive

We were made to thrive!

               This is a wonderful story about God’s abundance, and love for us to have that abundance, to celebrate, to live.

               But there are things here to struggle with as well. Commentator, Carol Lakey Hess said this, “It may seem like a travesty to turn a narrative about divine abundance into a trial of God, and yet it is passages like this one about divine extravagance that make God's absence in the face of poverty, suffering, and evil stand out. How do we reconcile a story of potent generosity with a world of tremendous need? If God is both generous and able, then apparently God continues to express Jesus' attitude: what is that to me?  Because we trust that God wants abundance (plentiful wine and lavish food are common symbols of God's grace in both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament), we follow in the footsteps of the mother of Jesus by prodding God for divine compassion and generosity….. Theologians who grapple with theodicy, justifying God's goodness in face of suffering and evil, come to various conclusions. Some say that it is not yet God's hour; others say God relies on human compassion to do the will of God.  Still others dare to argue that God continues to need the heirs of Jesus' mother to go on prodding divine generosity…. This troubling text invites us to trust so much in God's generosity and abundance that we, like the perceptive mother of Jesus, nudge God with our observation: they have no wine.”  

What does all of that mean?  Perhaps it is a daring proposition to utter, but Jesus makes it clear that we are called to be partners with God in making this life the extravagant abundance that God is all about.  We are called to be part of it beginning with simply asking for God’s abundance to come here, to come now, as Mary did with Jesus, and as we do through our prayers.    

But that is truly only the first step.  We are also called to be part of co-creating that abundance for all people through our actions.  Carol Lakey Hess continued by saying this, “In Toni Morrison's masterpiece Beloved, a white mountain girl named Amy Denver aids pregnant Sethe as she escapes slavery. Seeing Sethe's bloody back torn from the whip and astonished by the degree of her mutilation, Amy utters, "Come here Jesus… Wonder what God had in mind."  John 2, however, reveals what God has in mind—abundance, and the mother of Jesus nudges us to ask what God had in mind—during slavery, the genocide of Native peoples, the Holocaust. And Amy Denver does here what the mother of Jesus does in John 2—she poses the question and nudges the Divine.”  But I would add that she didn’t just ask God for intervention.  She stood on the strength of God to intervene herself, to stand up for injustice, to confront it, to change it, at least for the person right in front of her.  Mary asked for what she wanted: prodded, poked, demanded, stood up for it until it too was granted.  And again, that is what we are also called to do: to work for what we believe is right and just.  To work for all people to have the abundance that God has created for all of us to share.

            I think about some of the big times when people in this very room have done that.  And you have.  Despite the energy and time that it cost you, people in this room have taken on the care of someone else.  Many of you have taken people into your homes and cared for them, in some cases for just a night, in other cases for months and even years.  Some of you have spoken out against prejudiced comments and injustices.  You have given of your time, resources, talents to be part of helping others.  You pray, and you act.  And in doing both, you bring abundance and you celebrate abundance.  When we make feasts for the people of Winters Nights, we are bringing and celebrating abundance.  When we raise money for Monument Crisis Center or Hope Solutions, we are providing abundance.  When we provide tutoring for Hope Solutions, we are celebrating the abundance of our time, our resources.  When we help provide clean laundry and food, we are providing and celebrating abundance. 

            On this Baptism of the Lord Sunday, we remember that Jesus was called and blessed in his baptism and that we too are called and blessed in our baptisms.  We remember that just as Jesus prayed and acted, we are called to do the same.  So why would we be listening to the story of the water into wine on this day?  Because that story of abundance is deeply connected and tied to the story of Jesus’ call.  It is a sign that at the heart of Jesus’ ministry, of Jesus’ call is the promise of abundance, of life, of good things, of celebration.  And it is a reminder that as we, too, are called in our baptisms, we too are to be bearers of abundance to a world struggling to feel it has enough, is enough, will be more than enough, will be enough to celebrate.   

As we are bearers of this message and light, we recognize that we have two parts to that bearing and both are necessary – the praying and the doing.  Through both, Jesus continues to be revealed.  And God’s work continues to be done.  And through both, we bear abundance.  Jesus was enough.  The world has enough.  And YOU are enough.  The sooner you believe that, the sooner you will be able at act as the bearer of abundance that you are.  Thanks be to God for abundance, for calling, and for the ability to step into that abundance with hope, joy and promise.  Amen. 

Another very personal self-reflection: on hope

     I was watching MASH yesterday with my son.  He loves MASH and is leaving to return to school on Saturday, so we spent some time last evening watching a few reruns of this wonderful, wise program.  One of the episodes we watched was Dear Sis in which Father Mulcahy is basically narrating some of his time in Korea through the writing of a reflection letter to his sister.  The episode starts with an altercation between a patient who is flailing and being horrible to Margaret, refusing to accept the help of the nurses or anyone else.  Margaret calls for Father Mulcahy's help.  When he tries to help, the patient acts out towards the Father, saying he is not qualified to help or even deal with the patient and he punches the Father, hard.  In an unexpected moment of both self-defense and anger, Father Mulcahy punches the man back!  He then spends much of the episode dealing with that instinctual response.  He apologizes to the man, he tries to explain, but the man is basically a jerk in this episode.  He continues to attack, verbally, the Father, saying he is in no way a holy man and must have gone to seminary at the YMCA.  The patient cannot see his own actions as having been part of the problem, and he has no ability to offer grace or forgiveness.  Father Mulcahy just accepts into himself all the attacks that come from this man.  He leaves the hospital room, goes outside where Hawkeye finds him and the interaction between the two is as follows:

Father: You know, I used to coach boxing at the CYO. I told my boys it built character.

Hawkeye: Father, why don’t you stop punching yourself on the chin.  Pick on someone your own size!

Father: I’m Christ’s representative. “Suffer the little children to come unto me.  Do unto others… I’m not just supposed to say that stuff.  I’m supposed to do it.

Hawkeye: All you’re supposed to do is the best you can.

Father: Some "best!"

Hawkeye: Best is best!  Look.  Suppose you were sitting here right now with somebody who had done his best and was feeling lousy about it.  You’d let ‘em off the hook, wouldn’t you?

Father (still reeling in feelings of guilt and shame): Sure I would.  And if the hook didn’t work, I’d probably try an uppercut.

Hawkeye: Father, get off your back.

Father: It isn’t just that.  I don’t seem to make a difference here.  I hang around on the edge of effectiveness.  And when I do step in, I really step in.

Hawkeye: Look.  This place has made us all nuts.  Why should you be any different?   We don’t sleep. We don’t eat.  And every day a truck dumps a load of bloody bodies at our feet.  Okay so you hit someone.  We have to stand here and watch so much misery we’re lucky we don’t all join hands and walk into a chopper blade.

        I found myself struck deeply by this conversation both from a personal place, but also from a communal place. While we are not living through a literal war, in many ways we ARE living through a metaphoric one.  Our war is against this tiny little virus who has many tricks up its sleeve, and who appears to be using them all.  We are in a constant state of stress, of fear.  Will we be the ones to get it next?  How will it affect our families?  Our loved ones?  Our communities?  We think we see the end of the pandemic, and then something else happens and it goes on with more violence and damage than before.  At this point I think few of us have avoided losing a loved one to this disease.  Even fewer have remained unaffected by the illness.  As Hawkeye said, "We don't sleep.  We don't eat.  And every day a truck dumps a load of bodies at our feet." Holding on to hope right now is difficult.  Everyone remains tense, many are grieving, people are fearful and anxious, and everyone has moments when they are less able to act their best, to be their best.  We are all making mistakes and the results, because during this stress it is difficult to step back or to take things with the ease we otherwise might, are broken relationships, torn communities, and a fractured world.  

    We see this in so many places in our world: deepening anger, acting out, rage, violence.  We also see it, more personally, in the church.  There have been numerous articles written, including one in the Wall Street Journal (article) saying that church communities in general are experiencing a return of only about 50% - 70% of their people because of COVID.  Many of our churches are simply having to close as a result of this loss of membership.  Churches are learning to adapt, but pastors' burn-out level is extraordinary right now.  That, too, seems to be the subject of many articles crossing my desk recently: the mass exodus of pastors from church leadership.

    Why are they leaving?  There are many reasons.  One is that things are simply very stressful.  Pastors are having to learn and even create new ways of doing church during fluctuating, changing situations when we can meet, then can't meet, then can meet again but with differences, with limitations, with restrictions.  We are having to discover or create new ways to connect people and to stay connected to our people.  These new learnings take time and energy and most of us were already working more than full time at our jobs.  We are navigating a new world, one that changes monthly if not weekly and sometimes even by the day.  This is hard and we don't know where the next change will come, where we will need to adapt next.  Our congregants struggle with these changes too, so not only are we carrying our own stress, our own need to roll with the punches, but we are also called on, constantly, to be the face and voice of calm assurance, of hope, and of promise for our members.  We are called on to navigate the conflicts that are arising as we try to sort through these changes: some want masks, others don't.  Some are pro-vaccine, others aren't.  Some say we open to all, regardless; others say we need to limit who and how people can attend.  Not only do we need to be making these decisions, but we need to be reassuring and comforting those who would have wished we'd made different choices.  That in itself is exhausting.  Add to this that members are acting out their own fear, stress and anger by attacking those in leadership positions.  Pastors are easy targets and are receiving more than their fair-share of blame and anger.  

    But I think the story above about Father Mulcahy points to another reason why pastors are leaving.  We are not immune to the stress of this situation.  And we are not perfect.  I've written before about the unrealistic expectations that people have for their pastors, so I won't go into the details of this here again.  But the bottom line is we aren't more than human.  We are human.  In the Presbyterian church we recognize that pastors are not even more "holy" than other people.  All of us, every single person on this planet, has a call, and for all of us that call includes learning to be more loving, forgiving and gracious.  As Jesus said, "I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners."  We are all on a learning curve, on a path of growth.  And that means all of us will fall, will stumble, will make mistakes.  But the expectations for pastors remain very high.  When you combine huge levels of stress with the expectations that we will somehow be better, navigate the struggles better, walk through this terrible time with more grace, more patience, more wisdom and insight than everyone else, the reality is that we will disappoint people.  We will make mistakes.  We will, at times, fail.  And when we fail, it is not just our parishioners who struggle to forgive us.  We struggle, deeply, to forgive ourselves.  As Father Mulcahy said, "Do unto others… I’m not just supposed to say that stuff.  I’m supposed to do it."  But sometimes in stress when someone hits us, we won't be able to step back and respond with grace.  Sometimes we will, instinctively and without thought, punch back.  And when our apologies are not "enough"?  When they are not accepted?  When, like Father Mulcahy, we are sneered at, accused of being "fakes" and told that we are simply horrible at what we do?  Well, we have a hard time not taking those comments in.  

       And then it goes even deeper.  Again, as Father Mulcahy said, "It isn’t just that.  I don’t seem to make a difference here.  I hang around on the edge of effectiveness.  And when I do step in, I really step in."  There are times when it is hard to see that what we do makes a positive difference, especially in a time when affirmation is little and far between, and when the world around us continues to crumble, to tear, to struggle, no matter how hard we work.  We remember every time we have made a mistake.  We remember, with a voice that yells in our heads pretty constantly, every time we should have responded differently, should have seen things we didn't, should have acted when we failed to do so, should have, would have, could have...  It is hard, at times, to avoid focusing solely on the things we should have done and the things we shouldn't have done and to instead see any good we might have done.  It is hard, in these times, to hold on to a sense of purpose, of meaning, and most especially, of hope.

    I am grateful that when I have hit those lows, I feel that God has, every single time, stepped up and stepped in with reassurance and grace for me.  This weekend I hit one of those bottoms where my very career was in question for me once again.  It doesn't help that a member in my household is going  through the usual pastor's-kid, teenage rebellion thing and is telling me, with some regularity, that religion causes nothing but damage and that my job not only does no good, but is actually harmful to the world.  While I have my own arguments against this, it still hits hard and I do sit with their words, wondering how much is true.  Additionally, I'm coming off a very challenging month where we were struggling with family health crises and the demands on my time between family needs and my job during Advent and Christmas were frankly too much.  I was, like Father Mulcahy, very much in the "I don't seem to make a difference here... And when I do step in, I just seem to make mistakes" mentality.

      But three things happened for me, right in a row, all converging at the same time.  The first was seeing the MASH episode where Father Mulcahy's words resonated so deeply with my own feelings.  Seeing his struggle when the character does so much good in the series was a gift and reminder that we can't always see the good we do, we are simply called to do the best we can and trust that God will take our best and infuse it with grace.  Not everyone will be able to forgive our errors: the soldier in the MASH episode never did forgive Father Mulcahy.  But, as we know, that lack of forgiveness hurts the one hanging onto the grudge most of all.  That is a choice another can make.  One we cannot change.  All we can do is be aware of our own errors, apologize, and do our best not to repeat them. 

    The second thing that happened for me was that an individual took the time to tell me that something I had said to her had been life-changing and had put her on a different path forward, one with hope, joy and amazing possibility.  Without betraying this individual's confidence or situation, I see the change.  And I am grateful to have been allowed to be part of that.  

    The third thing that happened needs a little more explanation.  I've been feeling strongly that the most important part of my job right now has been and continues to be giving hope.  Even when I have not felt it myself, I have felt deeply called, impelled even, to be the bearer of hope during this time of extreme stress, confusion and pain.  In every bible study, every meeting of our anti-racism group, and in many of our committees and small group meetings, then, my voice has been the voice trumpeting hope in the face of anger, pain and despair.  That has been my job and my call for this last year and a half.  As times have darkened, I have felt this even more strongly.  Recently, then, I added into our worship services a "moment of hope" where I share a positive story, a story of someone doing good, being kind, making a beautiful difference, even in the face of these difficult and painful times.  Again, I feel the deep importance of being that voice of hope, even when I cannot summon it for myself.  With that back-drop in mind, every epiphany we do an exercise at my church where we pass out paper stars that have spiritual disciplines and gifts written on them.  No two stars are the same each year, and each person picks one out of a basket.  Out of all of the stars that I could have chosen, the one that I picked, the one that came to me, was "hope."  While I usually am a bit of a cynic when it comes to the chance that a word would come to each person that was exactly the right word at exactly the right time, I felt an electric shock run through me when I saw that word on my star.  Yes, my focus and my call has been centered on hope.  And that star was a reminder that that hope is there for me as well: offered to me, even when I am struggling, and even when I cannot see if what I do makes any difference at all.  The star was a both a reminder of my call right now, and a promise that hope is there for me, too.

    I would wish the same for all of you: that you would find and hold hope during this very difficult, very challenging time.  Practice kindness. And look for where God is: where there is light, joy, love, grace, forgiveness, mercy, and, above all, hope.

Come and See

 John 9:1-41

In the gospel of John, Jesus’ first words of his ministry are those we hear today. The first words we hear from his mouth in the gospel of John are “What are you looking for?” followed by “Come and see.”  They are the first words in his ministry according to the gospel of John and so we know they are important.  So I ask you today, “What is it that you are looking for?”  When you come to this place, when you come to God in prayer, when you come forward for communion or to be baptized or to join the church or serve as a leader in this church in some capacity or other, what are you looking for?

             Whatever it is that you are looking for, Jesus’ response is “come and see.”  And so we are invited to read the rest of the gospel, we are invited to look at his life, a life of service to God’s people, we are invited to see how God acts in the world through Jesus.  This is more than just an abstract idea and it is more than just looking with our eyes.  We are invited to “come” and to “see.”  The coming means stepping forward, stepping out, following Jesus.  That begins with the action of understanding what Jesus did with his life, but it also involves following Jesus in his ministry, doing what he did, serving God with all of our being.  It is only through that following of him that we will see, that we will be witnesses to God’s presence in this place.  We follow Jesus through healing and offering compassion for the sick, for the oppressed, for the poor; we follow Jesus by feeding the hungry.  We follow Jesus by lifting up and offering the good news to God’s people.  In following Jesus, we will experience God hear and now.  We will see through those around us, and through the act of following, we will find what we are looking for.

             Today we celebrate epiphany where we remember the visit of the magi bringing their gifts to Jesus.  The beauty in this story is that they came: they stepped forward on this long journey to find the Christ child, the promised king.  They did the work of taking the long, arduous journey.  They came.  And then they saw.  We change this story in our heads.  We make them powerful kings, but they weren’t.  They had to “return a different way” and avoid Herod because they were NOT powerful kings.  They saw that the Christ child was not what they expected, and they were convicted by their seeing him to avoid Herod, to not return in the same way, to not betray the child or give away his whereabouts.  They came, they saw, and then they followed the call to protect, to hide, to save this baby.

This month we also celebrate the life of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr..  And we see in him a man who embodied this message of following Jesus, of coming to see where God is in the world and what God offers to us.  In looking at his life, we remember that a life of service to God is not easy.  We also remember that no servant of God is perfect, and that this is okay.  It is the journey of following and looking that will lead us forward into those things that we are looking for.  For each of us this will look a little different as we discern in what ways God is calling us to follow.  But we are invited to respond with a “yes” to Jesus’ call for us to “come and see,” knowing that what we will see will be God and God’s action in our lives.

In the movie, Keeping the Faith, there is a wonderful conversation between a young priest and an older priest.  The young priest doubts his call into the priesthood after falling in love with a woman who is his friend.  Nothing happened between the two, but he found that the very fact of falling in love made him doubt a call that included celibacy.  He said to his older priest mentor, “If she had kissed me back, I would have given it all up.  She didn’t, but I keep thinking about what you said in the seminary that the life of a priest is hard and if you can see yourself doing anything else you should do that.”

The older priest responded, “Well that’s my recruitment speech which is good when you are starting out because it makes you feel like a marine!  But the truth is you can never tell yourself there is only one that you could be.  If you’re a priest or if you marry a woman, it is the same challenge.  You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it is a choice that you make again and again and again.  I’ve been a priest over 40 years, and I fall in love at least once every decade.”

             Following Christ is not easy.  And it is a choice we are called to make every day, sometimes every hour.  How will we respond to the call?  How will we choose to serve God today?  How will we be a Godly presence in the world?

Today’s Isaiah passage says, “And now the LORD says— he who formed me in the womb to be his servant ….I will also make you a light” 

These are words for and from Isaiah.  They are also words spoken, again, to us.  God has formed you, each of you to be God’s action in the world, to be God’s light in the world, to be God’s child.  You are called.  Choosing to follow Jesus, choosing to “come and see,” that will lead you into whatever it is you are seeking, that will lead you to life.

             And there is more good news.  Because God will make that call clear by what God puts in front of us each day.  I love the words to Amy Grant’s song “All I ever have to be” and I’d like to read those words for you now:

When the weight of all my dreams
Is resting heavy on my head,
And the thoughtful words of health and hope
Have all been nicely said.

But I'm still hurting,
Wondering if I'll ever be
The one I think I am.

I think I am.

Then you gently re-remind me
That you've made me from the first,
And the more I try to be the best
The more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me,
Is only there because of who you are.

Who you are...

And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.

As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.

And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.

 

In one episode of Joan of Arcadia, Joan comes to a point at which she feels she is being asked by God to save another, very lost, person.  Joan realizes that she can’t do it, she can’t save this other person, and she confronts God, saying, “But I’m no hero.  I’m just me.” The response of the God character in the episode is very, very simply, “Yes.  Maybe that is enough.”

             Jesus tells us, “Come and see”, and so we are invited to follow in the way of Jesus, to act with love and compassion to all we meet, to answer the call for our lives to be God’s people.  But as with the Magi, as with MLK, as with all people who truly follow the star that God creates to guide us, it all begins with those first verbs that Jesus utters in the book of John, “Come and see”.  We are called to start by taking the first step forward.  To answer the call as Moses did when he saw the burning bush and chose to step aside to see.  “Come and see”.  Have curiosity about what God puts in front of you.  Have curiosity about the challenges that are there.  Have curiosity and then see.  Come and see, my friends.  For God has amazing plans laid out for you.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.