Earning our Due

 

Exodus 16:1-18

Jonah 3:10-4:11

Matthew 20:1-16

 

            As a people we have a really hard time with grace.  Or rather, we have a really hard time accepting that God is gracious to those we feel do not deserve it.  At the same time, we do want that grace for ourselves. 

            I think about when I was a 19-year-old working as a volunteer in mission in rural Alabama for a summer.  One night I was driving home very late to the house where I was staying. I was driving on abandoned, empty, quiet, dark, rural roads.  Apparently though I ran a stop sign.  Suddenly out of no-where there were sirens and I was pulled over by a Sherriff.  He explained to me that I’d run a stop sign.  I told him, honestly, that I didn’t see the stop sign and wasn’t aware that I’d run it.  He still would have been absolutely within his rights to give me a ticket, but instead he offered me grace.  He let me off with a warning and sent me on my way.  That was the first time I had ever been pulled over, and I was deeply grateful that he had not given me a ticket.  It was grace, pure and simple.  I had not deserved that response, but he chose to give it anyway. 

            Still, despite the grace that was offered me that day, there are times when I see a car speeding down the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, often blaring music without regard for others, that I find myself wanting them to be pulled over and given a ticket.  I did not get a ticket I deserved, but it is still hard for me sometimes to want that same grace for those around me.  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, and I forget about grace.

            The grace of God is so evident in all three of the scripture readings for today, as well as the human response to that grace.  In the passage from Exodus, we continue the story of the Israelites flight from Egypt.  They’ve been rescued by God from slavery, but now they are struggling against the difficulties of the wilderness.  They don’t think it’s fair.  They’ve been in the pain of slavery and now they are in the pain of being in the wilderness.  We might see it differently.  They’ve been led out of slavery and they are STILL complaining.  But God doesn’t have the same sense of justice as we might.  God listens to their complaints, listens to their whining and gives them what they ask for, providing for them again and again.  It is grace, pure and simple.  They haven’t earned that kind of care.  They haven’t deserved to have their every prayer and complaint answered.  But God provides it none the less.  Out of grace and out of love, God provides.

            Then we come to the story of Jonah, and I think Jonah’s reaction is so very, very human.  Jonah has been sent to warn his arch-enemies of God’s coming wrath.  Jonah doesn’t want to do it and we can understand why.  Nineveh was the capital of Israel's greatest enemy, Assyria. Nineveh's deliverance in Jonah's lifetime meant that Assyria would go on and destroy the northern kingdom and put all of Israel firmly under the thumb of Assyria as its vassal. God sending Jonah to Nineveh would almost be like sending a Jewish person into a Nazi camp with the message that God was going to punish them unless they changed.  It would have been terrifying, it would have put his life at risk, and for what purpose?  But he went.  God offered Jonah grace by seeking after him even when Jonah had said “no”.  God offered Jonah grace by rescuing Jonah from the storm in the belly of a fish.  God offered Jonah grace by providing a plant to give him shade.  God offered Jonah grace again and again and again.  But when, out of gratitude for that grace, Jonah does eventually do what God has asked and goes and confronts the people of Nineveh, they actually do listen and then God offers THEM grace.  And Jonah’s response?  To become angry, hurt, surly, defiant.  Jonah willingly accepted the grace that came to himself.  After all, God is a good God, a loving God, a God of the Israelites and Jonah is working FOR this God.  So of course God would not punish Jonah for his rejection of God’s call, of course God would not exact justice on Jonah for running away.  God would offer grace.  Of course.  But to the Ninevites?  That’s a whole other animal.  And Jonah becomes enraged.

            Finally, we come to the gospel lesson.  And we have workers on both sides who may have felt the situation was unfair.  We have those who have worked hard in the sun all day long.  And we have those who have waited and waited to be hired but weren’t hired until the end of the day.  Both sets of workers need to feed their families.  And in the end, God’s grace, the grace of the master in the parable, is extended to all of them.  All of them are given the wage that will feed them and their families for that day.  But inevitably someone was unhappy.  And declared in loud and strong voices that life just isn’t fair. 

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

As some of you know, when Eldest was very young they attended a very elite private school in Oakland.  Head-Royce.   This was an amazing school academically that had a strong vision for social service and for caring for those in the community, and made it part of their curriculum for the kids to be involved in service to the less fortunate.  I loved that about the school. They valued giving opportunities to kids of all kinds, so Eldest was on full scholarship to attend this school, and I felt incredibly grateful that they had that opportunity.  At the same time, personally, I struggled on a daily basis with the decision to send Eldest to this school, because Eldest was surrounded at this school by others who had so much more than we had.  And instead of Eldest realizing that we are incredibly wealthy when we look at the big picture, the world, and that we therefore have a huge responsibility to care for the world and to share our resources with those who have less, instead, Eldest would come home with things like, “Sophia has her own little house in the back yard.  Why don’t I have my own house in our backyard?  Amanda has a hot tub and a swimming pool and a play room in her house.  Why don’t we have those things?  Julia lives in a five story castle.  Why don’t we live in a five story castle?”   She was walking away from her friends and playmates not with a sense of gratitude for the abundance that she had in her life, but with a sense of life not being fair, not treating Eldest fairly, of somehow being deprived in a world in which Eldest felt, as a peer to these other children, entitled to have “more,” and what was of more concern, Eldest began to devalue Eldest’s self as somehow being a child that must not be as worthy as these other kids with all of their wealth.

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, they are 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 it’s own story about this very inequity and about the dangers of “things” being introduced into these cultures.

One of the churches I served was near a mega-church that had several pastors and one of the pastors was bitterly complaining to the other pastor with whom I worked, about the amount of pay she received.  She was complaining because she received less than one of the other pastors at her church.  But the pastor who was complaining was making twice what the pastor I was working with made, four times what I was making, simply because her church had more money - though she worked no more than either of us.  It again was a matter of relative position, though I have to say it was very ironic that she chose to complain to a person who was making about half of her income.  And that my senior pastor then chose to complain to me who was making half of HER income.  It is easy to get on board the entitlement train.  It is easy to see in what ways we are not being cared for as others, rather than seeing how even more people have even less than we do.

            Again, it is a matter of perspective.  But the bottom line is that our sense of entitlement robs us of gratitude, and of being aware of the amazing grace that God gives us every week, every day, every moment.  I want to say that again.  Our sense of entitlement robs us of gratitude and an awareness of grace.  When we start feeling that life is unfair, that we don’t have what we deserve and that others are getting more than is “just” it becomes harder to see the riches and blessings in our lives, it becomes harder to connect with grace, it becomes harder to connect with God. 

            I remember hearing a wonderful skit done by comedian Louis CK on a tonight show episode.  He said this, “Everything is amazing right now and nobody is happy.  In my lifetime the changes in the world have been incredible.”  He goes on to talk about the telephone and how much it has changed over time.  About banks and how to obtain money then versus ATM’s now and the ability to charge things so easily now.  “And now we live in an amazing, amazing world and it is wasted on the (worst) generation of just spoiled idiots that don’t care.  Because now people with their phones are like… ugh… Give it a second!  It’s going to space!  Can you give it a second to get back from space?!...  I was on an airplane and there was high speed internet on the airplane.  This is the newest thing that I know of that exists.  You can open up your laptop on an airplane and get on the internet.  It’s fast, I’m watching YouTube clips and I’m on an airplane!!  And then it breaks down and they apologize, “The internet is not working.”  And the guy next to me is like, “pshaw!  This is B.S.!”  Like how quickly the world owes him something he knew existed only 10 seconds ago!  Flying is the worst one because people come back from flights and they tell you their story and it’s like a horror story.  They act like their flight was like a cattle car in the 40s in Germany.  That’s how bad they make it sound.  It was the worst day of my life!  First of all, we didn’t board for 20 minutes.  And then we get on the plane and they made us sit there on the runway for 40 minutes!”  “Oh really?  And then what happened?  Did you fly in the air, incredibly, like a bird?  Did you partake in the miracle of human flight while contributing zero?  You’re flying!  That’s amazing!  Everybody on every plane should just be going “OMG!  Wow!”  You’re sitting in a chair in the sky!  But no, “The seat doesn’t go back a lot!”  People complain about delays.  New York to California in 5 years.  That used to take 30 years and a bunch of people would die on the way, and have a baby.  You’d be with a whole different group of people by the time you got there!  Now you watch a movie and you’re home!”  But yes, we have this sense of entitlement, and we don’t seem to be able to let that go.

            So in the face of this, my challenge to all of us is to recognize that we have a choice about how we deal with life.  Will we choose to focus on what feels unfair?  Will we focus on the hardships we face unfairly while others seem to have lives touched by undeserved rewards and grace?  Or will we choose to see the grace that is given to us, to celebrate it and to pass it forward to others?  To celebrate the times when others also receive that grace, even when it is undeserved? 

            I’ll admit, celebrating the grace, the second chances, the opportunities, the gifts that others receive when they don’t deserve it is not easy, at all, for any of us.  On a daily basis, I hear people stating what so and so deserves because of things they’ve done that were evil or bad or wrong.  We want to see people punished.  We want JUSTICE, again, at least for other people.  When we make mistakes, I think we want forgiveness and grace.  But it is rare, RARE to hear people celebrating the grace that others are given undeservedly, especially when that grace comes in the form of forgiveness or lack of punishment for misbehaviors.    

            We are not living in a gracious world.  But we are called to follow in God’s ways, in Jesus’ ways and be graceful.  We are called to celebrate God’s grace extended to all of us.  We are called to extend that grace ourselves.  So that is my challenge for all of us, each of us today.  To be more graceful and less judging.  To be more grateful and less complaining.  To let go of feelings of entitlement and instead to celebrate each and every gift that we have been given.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

A Sense of Entitlement

Jer. 32:1-3a, 6-15

Luke 16:19-31

               Today’s parable has hard words for those of us who are the “haves” in our world.  There isn’t a lot of grace for the rich man.  And it isn’t that he was a horrible person.  The rich man in Jesus’ parable is not purposely trying to hurt Lazarus.  The parable does not paint him to be cold-hearted or angry or mean.  He just doesn’t see Lazarus.  He doesn’t see his need, his humanity, his worth - Lazarus doesn’t enter the rich man’s consciousness.  The same is true later in the parable…after they’ve died, the rich man still does not see Lazarus except as someone to be used to help him.  He doesn’t even talk to Lazarus, but instead, he speaks to Abraham.  The rich man asks Abraham to send Lazarus down, still seeing himself as someone who has the privilege and right to talk to Abraham but who would probably never consider talking directly to an underling such as Lazarus.  Lazarus remains invisible to him, someone he might be able to use to help himself and his family, but not someone seen.  His need was not seen, his personhood was not seen.

               Who is it that we don’t see who needs our help?  Who is it whose suffering we increase or contribute to, or fail to ease, without ever knowing it?  Around whom are we the privileged, counting on and expecting rights that others don’t have?  Where does our sense of entitlement over others tend to creep in?  Who is it that is invisible to us?   Of course, because they are invisible to us, it is hard for us to become aware of those we fail to see.  But I invite you to really think for a minute about who fails to enter your consciousness, or who you fail to understand, that has needs, real needs.

               Whoever it is, we have to remember that that person is Jesus.  We have to remember what we are told in Matthew, that whenever we do it to the least of these, we are doing it to Jesus.  He is the one hungry, thirsty, sick and imprisoned.  He is the one we don’t see, don’t feed – again either literally or in other ways, don’t care for when we do things, even unintentionally, that lead to another’s suffering.  Jesus is the invisible one, without the rights or privileges that we take for granted. 

As the commentary, Feasting on the Word puts is, “Perhaps the boundaries and walls we have drawn are not so much between us and others as between us and God. With a mixture of invitation and warning, in the book of Revelation, the angel says to the church in Laodicea, "Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me" (Rev. 3:20).  When someone knocks on our door (figuratively or literally), who is needy or hurting, we need to remember that that person is Jesus.  The person we find it easy to dismiss, or to not see, or to condemn, or to judge – that is Christ.  “That is God's Christ who stands at our wall, knocking. When we answer, we may not find someone who looks like us, but we may very well find someone who looks like our God, if we are paying attention.”

Based on today’s parable, then, what hope is there for most of the privileged?  The Rich man is told, when he begs for help saving his brothers, those still living, who are still not seeing those in need, not seeing how they contribute to their suffering, not seeing how they might help, that “they will not be convinced, even if someone were to rise from the dead.”  Luke was writing this about Jesus to an audience who knew that someone had risen from the dead.  Jesus had risen from the dead.  So, in your experience, are people who believe in the resurrection, convinced, then, that they must care for the poor and suffering?

We do a lot in this church for those who are poor.  We do tend to see certain people – those who come to Winter’s NIghts we see, we feed, we talk to, we care for.  Those children who we tutor or who are in our music camp in Pittsburg, those in the CCIH programs, we see them.  Those who go to the meals through Loaves and Fishes we see, feed, care for and talk to.  So for us, this story encourages us to think a little wider.  Who is it that we don’t see who needs our attention and care?

The unfortunate truth is that Luke’s Jesus does not have a lot of good news for those who are privileged and who do not care for those who are not.  Jesus says, “It is harder for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.”  Jesus says “woe to those who are rich because they have already received their comfort”.  And today Jesus says through this parable, that if we do not cross the gaping chasm between the rich and the poor in this life, we surely will not be able to do it in the next. At least for those who have more than their share on this earth, we are told, there won’t be a way to cross the chasm in the life to come.  The basic bottom line message?  For the Rich man in our story, he still thinks he has the right to ask for help and receive it, to have Lazarus ordered around.  He still cannot see him as an equal child of God.  He can’t do it.  The greater message then is that “Stepping out of one's privilege is perhaps one of the most difficult journeys of transformation.”   But again, while Luke focuses mostly on the privilege given to those who are economically sound and do not help others, I think we do a pretty good job of trying to serve those who have less here in this place.  But we still have privilege and there are still blind spots in that.

As I reflected on this passage this week, I found myself thinking about all of the ways in which we are privileged.  All of the MANY ways in which I am privileged.  Economically, certainly.  That is the primary way that Luke addresses our inequalities as well.  And I want to share with you that I understand how easy it is to move from a place of just using what we need, to thinking that all the luxuries we have are actually needs.  I know this because most of my adult life I have had to live very simply because we simply did not make enough money to live any other way.  For the majority of my adult life, housing costs were more than half of what I brought home each month and the rest of my pay went for food, medical necessities, and the children’s needs.  For most of my adult life, a vacation looked like camping because that was what we could afford.  But now I am married to David and my income for our small family is twice what it has been.  We took a vacation to Scotland this summer, the first expensive vacation that I’ve ever been on, the first vacation I’ve been.  And while much of the time I felt guilt about going, at the same time, I could see how very easy it would be to start seeing these vacations as “necessities”, as “normal parts of life”, as “part of the kids’ education”.  For the first time in my life, we’ve been able to fix things in the house without begging for help: paying someone to come in and replace the shattered living room glass door, for example; and the washer that went out this week, and even the bathtub with it’s hole in the bottom.  And again, how easy it is to start seeing these as necessities and forgetting that these resources we have are for the people of God, all the people of God, so that all might eat, and have a place to sleep, and have health care.  They are not “mine” to use on my own luxuries.

But, putting aside economics, there are other ways, too, in which we are privileged.  One of the more subtle ways we exercise our privilege is by wearing name tags when we are volunteers or helpers.  We separate ourselves from those needing the help, we make a wall through a simple name tag, between “them” and “us”.  I want to share with you a few stories that I hope will not make you uneasy or uncomfortable.  I am sharing these because they are stories which point out to me my own privilege, my own sense of entitlement.  These are lessons I learned doing prison visitations in Ohio.  And I share them in the hopes that they will encourage you to think more about areas of your own privilege which you may not see, may not name, and may not usually reflect on.

First of all, there was a real difference between myself and most of the other people visiting the prison.  There were racial differences – I was one of the few white women visiting one of the few white men in the prison.  There were language differences – I speak an academic or educated American English, while many of those visiting had not finished high school and their language reflected that.  There were clothing differences. While we were required to dress in a very specific way to visit the inmates –  we could not wear sleeveless shirts or shirts that were “low cut”, we could not “reveal” any body parts between neck and just below the knee, and a full set of undergarments were to be worn at all times (don’t exactly know how they checked this, but I had heard of women turned away for not wearing a slip under a dress or skirt, for example).  None the less, there was a difference in dress between myself and most of the other visitors.  I dress rather conservatively.  Many of the other women found ways to get around the “no provocative clothing” rules. Their pants were too tight.  When they bent over, body parts showed which they were quick to hide from the inspecting guards.  Every time I went, someone was turned away and not allowed to see the inmate they’d come to see because of the way they had dressed that day. 

That being said, the power in the prison, the privilege if you will, was with the guards.  And if they liked someone, or, unfortunately as I saw happen regularly, if some cute young thing offered something back to the guards in exchange for being let in, then dress restrictions were over-looked.  I wouldn’t flirt or offer anything to the guards though.  But they enjoyed wielding that power, over everyone. And so on one of my visits to the prison, I was refused entrance for wearing this shirt, which I was told was too low cut.  I was furious.  I was outraged.  But as I left, I realized that a lot of my anger was simply my own sense of entitlement.  Why should I be treated any differently than any of the other visitors?  Because I’m educated?  Because I’m a pastor?  The guards had as much power over me as anyone else, and that reality was hard for me to face. 

There are many other examples I could give you.  I used to believe that prisons provide for the inmates.  As a matter of fact, this week I saw a Facebook post about how much better prisons are than nursing homes.  All I could think was that the idiot who posted that had never actually been to a prison.  There is no medical care in the prisons I visited – except in extreme situations, and even then, the medical care was very minimal.  One of the inmates I spoke to was legally blind, so blind that he could not find the bathroom without his glasses.  However, when his glasses broke, they would not provide a new pair.  That particular inmate had to have an outside family member order a new pair for him with an old prescription and then jump through a series of hoops to get the prison to actually give him the glasses – a process that took well over a month.  Prison is supposed to pay for the food and lodging of the inmates, but at one prison I visited, inmates weren’t given breakfasts on the weekends, for example.  None of their basic toiletries are paid for, jackets for the winter time, underwear, socks, hair cuts, tootpaste, toilet paper, etc., while necessary, were not paid for. 

Talking with families who have incarcerated loved ones taught me that most families must spend about $500 a month for their inmates to simply survive there.  This is not on luxuries, there aren’t luxuries that can be bought inside the prison: the money goes for basic survival.  Things like razors, toothpaste, soap, toilet paper, coats for winter, shoes for winter.  The inmates who didn’t have people to pay for these things?  Well, they stole stuff from other inmates.  They threatened violence if not given what they ask for (and they follow through with it).  I realize that in contrast the rest of us are extremely privileged. 

Another woman who visited told me that she was propositioned by one of the guards and when she did not give the guard what he asked for, the loved one (her husband!) whom she was visiting was beaten to a pulp and almost died.

So where is the good news in all of this?  Where is the good news for those of us who are privileged?  The words of comfort in these stories are spoken to the poor, to those who suffer now, to those without rights and privileges.  They are reassured that their lack of privilege will change, that they will have the rights they may not have now.  That they will have a place at the table.  But where is the good news in this for us, who are privileged NOW?

First, I believe we can learn to see those who are displaced.  We can learn to give to and share with those who have less.  We can learn to see our privilege and we can learn to not abuse it.  It isn’t easy, but what is impossible for humans is possible for God.  In that is good news.  The good news is also that God is a God of grace and mercy.  The rich man in the story appealed to Abraham, and Abraham said “no”.  But we appeal to God.  And as we do, as we ask for God’s love, care and mercy, God will answer us, give us help to grow, understand, see, and love more fully, to not use or abuse our privileges.  God is the God of abundance, grace, love and there is enough for everyone in God’s realm.  We are called to see the invisible, to care for the poor, to offer mercy and compassion.  But we are also given the strength, grace and love to be able to do that, to respond to this call, with God’s help.   Let us pray for the eyes to see and the grace to love even the loveless.  Amen.

More on Entitlement

My kids and I went to the Monterey Aquarium this last week.  It is one of our favorite places to go and though it is not close (two and a half hour drive if there is no traffic, but when is there no traffic in the Bay Area?) we try to get there when we have a vacation space to do so.  Most of our time on this trip was wonderful, but I found myself struck once more by the amazing sense of individual entitlement that I think has a lot to do with where we are now as a country and where we are heading.

The day we went to the Aquarium it was very crowded because it was over Christmas break.  There were a lot of people packed into the space, and while many of them were "well-behaved", there were also a shocking number of folk who would do anything to make sure that they were ahead of everyone else, that they had the perfect spot, that their "rights" superseded the rights of those around them.

To give a very specific example:  We especially love the otters.  And there are several times a day when they have "feeding time" at the otter tank.  Lots of folk cramped into the tight spaces in front of the glass windows.  The trainer who talks to the crowds and explains what is going on said to the crowd at the beginning of the presentation, "We know that there are many of you, and we encourage you to look around and if there are children shorter than you, please let them stand in front of you so that they can see too."  I was struck by the fact that this needed to be said.  Does someone really have to TELL us to let children stand in front so they can see?  To let children move to the front so that they are not blocked by our taller bodies?  Shouldn't this care for others' education, this care for others' enrichment, this attention to the needs and desires of others, and especially children, just be part of who we are?  But unfortunately this no longer seems to be part of who we are.  And people no longer even seem to feel they need to pretend to care about other folk.  Youngest, my 4'9" kid, was trying to get to a spot she saw that was a little empty and she asked a woman, "Excuse me, can I please get by you?"  This 5'10" woman snapped at Youngest, "I'm standing here! This is MY spot!" Youngest wasn't even trying to take her spot, but was simply trying to walk by her to another spot that she saw.  This entitled and fearful woman didn't stop there.  She literally shoved in front of Youngest who stood there just incredulous.  I was incredulous too.  Is our sense of fear that someone will take away what we have, what we want, so strong that we see even a little child trying to look at an otter as so much of a threat that we have to push them behind us, in a public place, in front of everyone?

It feels to me that that is where we have moved as a country.  We claim "Christian values" and yet we ignore the first call of that faith which includes loving our neighbors as ourselves.  If we truly see the other as a person equal in importance, equal in needs, equal in value, then we will care about their well-being.  We will not be so focused on our fear of not having enough, not getting what we want, trying to grab from others or block others getting what they want so there will be enough for ME; and instead we will be focused on the privilege we have to work towards the inclusion, the rights, the well-being of every one of our brothers and sisters. The times I experience grace, real grace, are the moments when I work for the well being of others.  I don't need their acknowledgement or gratitude or even awareness. But in my own awareness that we are not different, we are the same; and what hurts you hurts me, and what slights you slights me, and what comes as a gift to you comes as a gift to me, and when you are doing well, I am doing better too - all of that awareness brings grace to me, brings life to me.  We seem as a people to be more and more in the mode of grabbing our rights at the expense of others, of demanding what we want by pushing others out of the way (even children!!), of insisting that our wants are so much more important than others that we behave in ways that threaten to wipe us out as a people.  We have to get beyond our prejudices, our racism, sexism, heterosexism, Islamophobia, anthropocentric world view...we have to get past the fear.  We have to get past grabbing what we insist is ours instead of caring for "the least of these" in whom we find Christ again and again. We have to get over the word "mine" and instead start using the word "ours" in relation to everything.  There is no "mine".  Everything we have belongs to God and is entrusted into our care for us to share, and to be stewards over.  It's very simple.  And very clear.

We also have to have faith that there really is enough, and more than enough, for all of us.  God is the God of abundance (look how much water was turned into wine!) after all!  But if we insist on grabbing more than is our fair share, there won't be.  So it has to start by sharing, and it has to end with sharing. For each and every one of us.

I realize how hard this is to do.  I realized it as I watched this situation with my daughter at the Aquarium.  I was too far away to interfere in that moment.  But if I had been closer, it would have been impossible for me to not react to this woman's "grabbiness" by grabbing back.  As she pushed in front of my daughter, it would have been all I could do to not shove her in response rather than talking calmly and clearly.  But the more we are reactive, the more we demand our own, even in response to others doing the same; the more we respond with "an eye for an eye," the more we become part of creating the reality of an increasingly blinded world.  There was a reason Jesus argued against that very passage and insisted instead that we respond to evil and anger and even violence with love.  He is the one we are supposed to follow.  If you insist on demanding your own rights over those of any other human being, if you insist on revenge thinking, if you insist on denying any other person food, water, shelter, love; if you choose fear and anger and hate over grace, forgiveness and love, then do not tell me you follow the Prince of Peace.  Do not deceive yourself about what you really follow and what you really believe.

We have to get past our entitlement thinking.  Just because we were born privileged does not mean we are entitled to that privilege.  It is a gift to be shared, not one to be boasted of and kept to ourselves.  Again, I realize our media, our culture, our current political situation claim otherwise.  They teach us daily that what is mine is MINE, not to be shared, but to be guarded and hoarded with everything we have.  But that is not the way of our faith. Our faith stories, all of them, teach us love instead.  Again, we are all on this path, and getting there will be imperfect for each one of us.  But we must try.  The grace we will experience through that trying is the only thing that can save us.

Yesterday's Sermon - Giving from our Need

Ruth 3:1-5, 4:13-17

               Mark 12:38-44

There once was a very poor man who found himself in desperation making a deal with God before a priest and several parishioners.  “I promise, God, if you let me make some money, I will give you a dollar for every ten I make.”  Sure enough after a time he found a ten dollar bill, and just as he promised, he gave one of those ten to God. The man’s riches began to grow.  After a while he found himself making $1000 a month, and still he kept to his word, giving $100 to God, just like he promised.  His riches grew even more and in time he was making $100,000 a year.  This meant though that he was giving $10,000 a year back to God.  This began to feel like a whole lot of money that he was giving up.  He did it, but much more grudgingly.  By the time he made $1,000,000 he became very uncomfortable about giving $100,000 of that to God.  He went back to the priest and asked if there was any way he could get out of his deal with God.  The priest thought about it for a minute and finally replied, “I don’t think so, but if you would prefer to go back to giving only a dollar, I’m sure God would be happy to reduce your income back to 10!”      

Isn’t it easier to give more when you have less?  Statistics prove this out – that the poorest people give a much greater percentage of their incomes to charities, especially the church, than wealthier folk.  But we can see it for ourselves, sometimes in incredibly profound ways.  Jack Shriver told me about his mission work on the border handing out food, water and medicines to those crossing into the United States.  He said that the volunteers who were trying to help avoid more deaths and dying, especially in the children, would call out announcing that they had food and medicine and water to share and that sometimes people would come, though many times, out of fear, they would stay hidden.  One time, however, those hearing the group calling, “food, water, medicine”, came timidly out, with their tiny bags of belongings.  They had misunderstood the call “food, water, medicine” as a cry for help.  And they came out with the little amounts they had, the tiny amounts they had, apologetically offering everything they had left, while knowing that if they gave away the little they had, they might not survive the journey.  Even so, assuming that the group that had come down to help was in fact in need, they offered what they had.  Even in the face of the tiny amount they had to survive, they offered it to those they believed were also in need. 

I experienced the same thing when I was with a group touring Guatemala and Nicaragua.  We met some of the poorest of the poor -  people who lived bunched together in homes put together from what they could find; people who struggled daily just to live.  None the less, these people would gather whatever food resources they had to offer us, wealthy Americans, the best food that they had, food they could not afford, but that they gave from their hearts, just because we were there to hear them, to meet them, to be with them. 

This doesn’t just happen in other cultures either.  There have been several videos circulating recently that have looked at some of the behaviors of the homeless in our own culture.  In one video a man, well dressed, clean, clearly with resources, was asking people on the street for hugs.  Not money, not anything except a hug.  But as he passed all the people heading to shop or to work or to wherever they were going, no one passing would give him a hug.  Not one person.  They were afraid or they were wary.  Whatever it was, they avoided him, said no, walked (ran) away.  So he approached a bunch of homeless people.  And in contrast, not one of them turned him away.  They don’t have resources, but they still had care and affection to give. 

In another video, a man approached a homeless man and gave him a $10 bill.  The homeless man was taken aback and asked him why he had done this.  The first man said he just thought the homeless man could use the money.  The homeless man stared at him for a minute and then said, “Please, sit down for a minute.  Just a minute!  I’ll be right back!”  The first man sat, not knowing what to expect, but in a minute the homeless man returned, with two lunches that he had bought at the nearby store, one of which he gave to the first man.  The first man now was the one who was stunned.  He said, “Why did you do this?  You could have saved that money to spend on a second lunch tomorrow!”  But the homeless man said, “Well, you see, I could.  I had the money and I would like to share this meal with you.”  Out of the little he had, he gave half to someone who wasn’t even asking for it, just because he could. 

In the book, “Richistan”, the author, Robert Frank discussed several studies which showed that no matter how much money a person earned, no matter how much, whether it was $10,000 a year or $10 billion a year, most people felt that if they only made exactly twice what they were making now they would be okay.  Most people, regardless of their income, felt that they just didn’t have nearly enough.  This points to the reality that as humans we NEVER are satisfied, we never feel we have enough, we always think we need more.   The book also showed that actually making more money did not increase happiness, having more money did not increase a sense of well-being.  Money does not in fact make us happier.  It does, however, increase our sense of what we need.  What we perceive to be our needs often grows beyond our incomes, no matter what they are.  We can see it happening in our lives and in the lives of those around us, but it is hard to stop it.  In contrast to the stories I have just told about poor people around the world, a person I know whom I will call “Sally” has an income that exceeds mine by over five times.  Sally spends a great deal of time and energy worrying about her money, and is right now in a place where she absolutely finds it impossible to be generous with time, talents or money.  She is often found lamenting how trapped she feels, how tight things are financially.  She is often found complaining that she doesn’t know how the bills will be paid next month.  And the truth is that she isn’t making this up.  She really does struggle to keep up her expected standard of living.  Her investment properties, her cars, her get away homes, the time she spends with friends of like economic status at vacation spots, expensive restaurants, her home remodel – all of these things do take every bit of the income that she brings in as well as every extra minute of her time.  Of course, for those of us who don’t live like that, it is easy to see the other side.  How much of that is necessary spending?  How much is luxury?  But this is what Sally is used to, what she knows, what she has come to believe is necessary. 

She has forgotten the bigger picture…the picture that says that none of her resources are actually her own.  They are all God’s and therefore should be used for the good of all rather than the good of just Sally.  She has lost touch with the fact that one of the meals she eats out in a month at these luxurious restaurants could feed a family overseas for six months and that this is a better use of God’s resources.  Sally has become owned by her possessions and lost in her material wealth.  And she is poorer because of it.  We do the same.  If each of us were to commit to eating out one less time a month, or giving our coffee money for one week of every month to those who really need it, we could make an amazing difference in the world.  But we stop seeing these things as luxuries.  We forget that we don’t NEED these things.  And we forget that all of these resources are God’s, entrusted to us for the good of the world.

But the reality is that I don’t actually want to guilt you into giving money to the church.  Because we are not called to give out of guilt.  We are not called to give out of guilt.  We are called to give out of gratitude.  Everything we have has been given to us from a God who loves us beyond our imagining.  And that is cause for giving and for celebration.

In today’s scripture the poor widow put more in than all the rest.  She put in everything that she had.  I don’t think she was sitting there calculating what percentage of her things she was contributing to God.  I don’t think she put that money in out of guilt or even a sense of obligation.  She gave all that she had because she loved God, because her faith is what made her rich, not her money.  She was grateful for that day in her life, for the blessings that she had, though others might see them as few, and so she returned to God what she had been given.  How powerful is that?  How faithful is that to return to God all that you have, knowing that God will use that gift – that gift of all of you – for the good of all people?

We are called to lift up our joys every week as a way of remembering the blessings God has given us.  We are called to serve God with everything we do – choosing work that empowers God’s people and takes care of God’s creation.  We are called in every interaction to be loving and caring and warm.  We are called to give back from our talents, from our resources, from our money, from our gifts – not because it is “the right thing to do” (though it is), but because we remember that God has blessed us and continues to bless us in every moment and because of that insight, because of the wealth that our love of God gives to us, we are grateful, we are so grateful, that we can hold nothing back.  It is all God’s and so we are given the opportunity to give it back. 

At a church meeting a very wealthy man rose to tell the rest of those present about his Christian faith. "I'm a millionaire," he said, "and I attribute it all to the rich blessings of God in my life. I remember that turning point in my faith. I had just earned my first dollar and I went to a church meeting that night. The speaker was a missionary who told about his work. I knew that I only had a dollar bill and had to either give it all to God's work or nothing at all. So at that moment I decided to give my whole dollar to God. I believe that God blessed that decision, and that is why I am a rich man today."

He finished and there was an awed silence at his testimony as he moved toward his seat. As he sat down a little old lady sitting in the same pew leaned over and said to him: "I dare you to do it again."

That dare, that challenge applies to us as well.  But not out of guilt.  God has blessed us and we are in gratitude and love given the gift of being able to offer it back.  That is a joy.  And it is a privilege.  Amen.

Sunday's Sermon - Those who aren't against us

Esther 7:1-6, 9-10, 9:20-22

Mark 9:38-50

A woman was walking across a bridge one day, and she saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off.

So she ran over and said "Stop! Don't do it!"

"Why shouldn't I?" he said.

"Well, there's so much to live for!"

"Like what?"

"Well... are you religious?" He said yes.

She said, "Me too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?"

"Christian."

"Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?

"Protestant."

"Me too! Are you Presbyterian or Baptist or…?"

"Presbyterian"

"Wow! That’s amazing.  Me too!  Are you Presbyterian USA or Presbyterian Church of America?”

“Presbyterian Church of America”

To which she responded, "Die, heretic scum", and pushed him off the bridge.

Drawing lines in the sand.  I think all of us are pretty good at that.  It seems to be a natural part of being human to divide our world into us and them.  In sports there is my team, their team; the San Francisco Giants or the Oakland A’s. You can’t support both. In terms of colleges where I came from there was Cal or Stanford. In products there’s Coke or Pepsi. Among our churches, there are Catholics and Protestants. And among Protestants there are divisions and divisions. But even more, there is a growing divide between the evangelical/fundamentalist Christians and the Progressive Christians. The divide is becoming so wide that I sometimes wonder if we actually worship the same God at all. Similarly, politically we are becoming so much more polarized in terms of conservatives and liberals, democrats and republicans.  And there, too, it would almost seem we have two (or more) different understandings of what our country should be, could be and is.

Once we have identified ourselves with a particular group, we can become very rigid and careful guardians of what we feel is “ours.”  We can become very protective of keeping what we know “pure” or “the best.” People side with “their own” even when they actually wouldn’t if left on their own. Even the most open of us fear change and can act that out with rigid boundaries between ourselves in the groups of which we are a part and those outside the group.  We can become possessive of our size “we want to keep this small,” our projects “our committee is taking care of that,” our out-looks, and the credit we get for certain activities.  Once we’ve formed our loyalties, we can limit others joining us, but then find ourselves jealous when those others do similar things to what we do, even if they are good things.  As children, “cliques” form that are often rigid and exclusive and if one of those cliques decides to join a particular sport or compete in a particular activity, any other group who does the same might be called “copy cat” and the strictest social pressures can be put on the second group to stop “copying.”

As adults our possessiveness and our jealousies may be more subtle, but they can be even more harmful.  In the church especially, the Us vs Them mentality can be destructive. 

In one area where I lived, the Presbyterian church in town began a soup kitchen to help the hungry.  As part of their program, each person who was being fed was required to sit through a half hour sermon before they could eat. The Methodists from the church down the street took issue with the way the Presbyterians were handling the situation. They felt that as Christians they were called to feed people without pushing faith and that the best way they could serve Christ was by giving without expecting anything in return, showing God’s love through example. So they opened their own soup kitchen. In addition, a third soup kitchen was set up about the same time by the Lutherans. The Lutherans didn’t preach to their hungry, but they did ask each “guest” to contribute a token quarter per meal. They believed that this gave back to each person a piece of their dignity because they were “paying” for their meal and it was an exchange; not just charity.  Well the Presbyterians were outraged because the Methodists “took” all of their hungry away, without giving them the “opportunity” to hear about God.  The Lutherans were angry because they felt giving someone something for nothing took away a hungry person’s dignity.  Everyone was serving in the name of Christ, but it became a large and divisive problem between the churches; each church competing for the ability to serve the community by feeding the hungry.

There is a popular story about a church that was in an area where there were an abundance of homeless people. The members of the church were uncomfortable around these people, and so using the excuse of “safety” did not allow any of the homeless people in to worship.  One of these homeless women, Sally, thought the church was beautiful, and she wanted so desperately to worship there one morning that she tried to sneak in a window.  When she was found, she was carefully escorted out the back.  She approached the pastor during the week and begged to be allowed to come and worship in the church.  After meeting sometime with the session, the pastor finally decided on a plan.  The pastor found Sally and said to her, “Sally, I’ll tell you what.  You go and pray to God and if God wants you here, he’ll find a way to make you look clean enough that the members of our church won’t be afraid of you, and you can come worship here as long as you like.”  While Sally prayed and prayed, she was never made “presentable” enough for the church members.  But one of those times during prayer, Sally experienced a vision in which God said to her, “Don’t worry, my child, about that church.  They won’t let me in either.”

There is something very comforting about drawing lines in the sand.  I believe it helps us define who we are. We define ourselves in part against others, we know ourselves as much by what we are not as by what we are. It can therefore be helpful to have a clear sense of who is on our side and who is not, what we do and believe that is different from what others do and believe.  It is for this reason that as a denomination we struggled for awhile against joining other denominations in the Council of Churches United, otherwise known as COCU, which later became CUIC – Churches Uniting in Christ.  The purpose of CUIC was that we can, as a larger body, do more to help serve the world and each other than we can as individual churches.  But many in our denominations feared that we would lose our distinction and our identity in joining CUIC, they also fought over things like bishop succession and laying on of hands. There were hard and difficult fights against uniting with other Christian churches, all proclaiming Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

As a denomination we also struggle to determine what view points and behaviors are

“acceptable” as we continue to define who we are as Presbyterians.  One of the ways we do this is by drawing lines around our leadership. You know that we’ve fought passionately over whether or not gay and lesbian persons could be included in ordained ministry.  We’ve also fought over what is required in terms of studying. In our church certain tasks have been reserved for people who have gone through the arduous required process proceeding ordination as minister of Word and Sacrament. Those who have studied for three to four years beyond college in a seminary, who have learned both Hebrew and Greek, who have passed both oral and written ordination exams and who have had a committee interrogating them for several years as well, these people have the opportunity of becoming ministers of the Word and Sacrament. But as you may know there has been a movement in the last fifteen to twenty years to allow lay folk; people who have not gone through all of this process, to do more and more of what pastors alone have been doing.  This movement towards allowing more non-clergy more power has moved very slowly.  I can understand why.  Perhaps these lay folk would not teach correct Presbyterian theology.  Perhaps they would not interpret or understand scripture in an educated, helpful way.  Perhaps they would lead people astray. Isn’t it important that they be educated in the way we want them to be educated? But underneath the perhapses I believe, is the investment of the clergy and the fear of what it would mean to “include” others.  We had to learn Hebrew and Greek, we had to take the exams.  We spent four plus years in school and sweated through difficult and challenging classes.  It doesn’t seem fair if someone else gets to serve and be recognized as a pastor without having to go through all the hoops that the rest of us went through. 

It is a similar situation that we see presented in today’s gospel reading.  The disciples had discovered that through their relationship to Jesus they had been given the ability to heal, or cast out demons.  It was an extraordinary gift, and it drew many people into Jesus’ following.  But on this particular occasion the disciples came across someone else who also had the healing power and who also was given the gift, the ability to cast out demons.  The disciples were upset.  While this other exorcist was helping people in the name of God, even in the name of Jesus, he was not “with” them.  He was not one of Jesus’ disciples.  Perhaps he would gain his own following.  Perhaps he would lead people to believe or do things differently than Jesus was teaching.  Perhaps...But it was not just the perhaps.  He was not one of them.  The disciples were a team, a family.  As individuals each of the disciples had given up everything they had to follow Jesus.  They had left their work, their homes and their families.  I’m sure they felt it was unfair for this other man to get credit for healing and helping when he was not having to also give up everything to follow Jesus.  But at the same time, the disciples also didn’t invite him to join their group.  Instead they felt this other exorcist had to be stopped.

But Jesus did not uphold their line in the sand.  Jesus was constantly about widening circles of inclusion rather than limiting them.  His inclusion of people deemed totally unacceptable to his society was very hard for the people around him to understand and accept.  He was discredited by the pharisees and scribes for including sinners and outcasts of all kinds in his following; prostitutes, tax collectors, Samaritans.  He accepted them, loved them and included them.  Each time Jesus widened the circle of inclusion, the disciples too, not just the pharisees and scribes, but the disciples, were troubled, challenged.  Who were they as disciples when the lines were so unclear?  What was most difficult for the disciples was that Jesus’ love and acceptance was not conditional upon a person’s changing.  Sometimes his love then allowed others to change, but his caring was not dependent on that change.  How were the disciples to keep Jesus’ following pure and distinct if Jesus loved and accepted even those who were sinners?  Who were they as disciples and why did they give up all they had to follow Jesus if Jesus loved and included even outcasts? 

Still, Jesus gently challenged them.  “Let him be,” Jesus said.  “Let him heal, let him cast out demons.  Let him do what we do and be part of who we are, even as he is separate.  I ask you to accept that since he is not against us, he is FOR us.  This other exorcist whom you do not know and who has not joined me in the way that you have is still part of my body, the church.  Draw your circles wider; let those who are different but who are doing my work of healing and loving, let them in. Through serving in this way, they too will grow in God’s way.”

We continue to struggle with the dividing lines, we continue to want to decide for God who is in and out.  Yet it is in our unity, in our inclusion that we are able to most fully do God’s work.  The Church that refused to let the homeless worship missed an incredible opportunity to serve, to learn, to grow with their homeless brothers and sisters.  The three churches competing over the soup kitchens could have worked together rather than against each other in order to do more than just feeding.  Their lines of division limited their vision and resources.  But together they might have been able to provide shelter, showers, maybe even jobs.  So too with CUIC.  In joining with other churches in mission, we could do so much more to serve God’s world than we can as individual denominations. And so too in the case of lay persons who seek to do more pastoral work. The ordination process we have does not allow for many Native American churches, rural churches and smaller churches to have pastors, it does not allow people who are not good test takers, or who cannot financially afford years of schooling to become leaders in the church.  Also, in our rigidity, we are setting stumbling blocks for people who are striving to come closer to God. These lines in the sand hurt us as a church, and they limit our ability to serve God.

Once again I hear Jesus’ words, spoken to Christians, spoken to the Presbyterian Church, spoken to me and to you, “Those who are not against us are FOR us.  Let the other exorcists be and do their work.  In doing my work, they can only grow in their faithfulness.”  We are all God’s children.  Together we are the body of Christ, empowered to change the world, empowered to exorcise every demon.  Draw your circles wider, for God’s kingdom has no limit, no end, and God’s love is for everyone.

Sunday's Sermon - To Those who Have

Psalm 1

Matthew 13:10-17

Luke 19: 12-26

               “To those who have, much will be given and to those who have not, even what they have will be taken away.”  This seems like such a cruel statement.  Why would God do this?  Take away from those who have not and give only to those who already have?  I do not believe that this is a statement about what God does.  Those sentences that say things like “God helps those who…” and “God loves those who…” fail to see the amazing grace of God that extends to everyone.  So what then is this about? 

Statements such as “to those who have, much will be given and to those who have not, even what they have will be taken away” are unfortunately very accurate description of the world today.  And I think when Jesus is making these statements, he is pointing out the backwardness of human societies.  Look around you.  The truth is that those who have have a very easy time getting more.  And those who have not have a very hard time getting even their basic needs met.  We know that the rich are getting richer while the poor in our country are getting poorer.  We know this, we hear about it. We probably are unaware of exactly how much this is true, but the medium family income has significantly dropped versus the cost of living over the last few years, the bottom 90% of the people in this country, the bottom 90% have only 23% of the nation’s wealth.  That means the top 10% own 77% of the wealth in this country.  And that gap continues to grow.  The top .1% in this country own 25% of the country’s wealth. This is a significant change in the last few years.  The gap is growing.  And frankly, we probably experience it in our own lives. The more you have to invest, the higher interest you can make on what you invest. The more properties you own, the more likely you can own “one more”.  If you have a lot of money, you get a lower percentage on loans.  The more money you put down on a house, the lower your loan interest percentage.  The faster you are able to pay off a loan, the lower the percentage of interest you need to pay.  It should be the opposite – those who need the loans the most should get a lower percentage so they are more able to actually pay it back, but that’s not how it works. 

I’ve found myself thinking about this in terms of those who have been traumatized by the fire.  Money has been pouring out to help those who’ve lost their homes in the fires.  One website said 1.4 million dollars had been donated just through them.  Another site I saw was a Red Cross website that actually said, “we have as much money as we can handle to help these folk.  If you still want to give money, send it through another organization.  Ironically, the other organization said the same thing in reverse, “we have enough.  Please send it to Red Cross…”  The outpouring around this has been amazing, and a truly wonderful sign of the caring that people can give.  People should step up and they have.  But I have found myself wondering, if we are able to raise this much money in this short a time for the victims of the fires, why are we not able to raise the same amount for those who struggle every day, before the fires and after the fires, to obtain enough to eat?  With the amount of money that has come forward to help those in the fires, we could actually wipe out homelessness in CA and more.  Why are we not doing that?  Why are we not able to eradicate homelessness for the children in our country?  While 40% of the homeless population in the United States are children, the poverty level in our country for all children is 22%.  22% of the children in the United States, which is a higher percentage than in any other industrialized country, are so poor they have trouble finding enough to eat.  22%.  Why can we not raise the same amount of money and give towards programs that target families struggling to get back on their feet as we are for those who’ve lost their homes in these fires?  I think one reason is that poverty is seen as a chronic problem whereas the fire burning houses is seen as a one-time problem.  But also, people become afraid that those who are poor will somehow “misuse” the money given to them whereas we tend to trust those who are “just like us”, people who have homes.  We can sympathize more easily with those who have lost their homes to a fire than those who are on the street because they never had homes in the first place.  We have come to believe that the poor are untrustworthy.  Truthfully, most of us at some level blame the poor for their own poverty, and we treat them as such.  I doubt any of us would hesitate when out to eat with a friend to offer to pay for their meal.  And yet, how hard is it to buy a meal for a person on the street who really needs it? And again, the biblical phrase comes to mind once more:  “To those who have, more will be given, but to those who have little, even what they have will be taken away.”

               I admit, I became especially aware of the reality of the “for those who have more will be given and for those who have not even what they have will be taken away” when we were struggling to find a house out here.  Without an address and without proof of residency I couldn’t even register the kids for school.  I found myself thinking about this many times during the weeks that we were, in essence, homeless.  We blame the poor for their own poverty.  And yet, how do we expect those kids who’ve been raise in homeless situations and therefore can’t even register to go to school to somehow raise themselves out of that poverty?  How, without food or resources or a network of support or education, is that even POSSIBLE?  When we consider that 22% of the children in our country are living in poverty, we also have to recognize that these 22% of our children are uneducated if they are educated at all.

               An example of a different kind.  I have a good friend who struggles with clinical depression.  There are times when she is so down that she cannot get out of bed.  It is during those hard times that she is least likely to get the support she needs from her friends.  She has a harder time reaching out during those times.  But additionally, when she is depressed her friends get tired and depressed being around her.  With mental illness too we tend to blame the victims, not recognizing their need or the ways we could support and help them through it.

               When we look at the international situation, the refugees, those most in need around the world are the ones who again have the hardest time getting what they need.  People and countries become afraid of what the presence of these strangers will do to us, to me, to you and I and they close their doors to those in need.

Where is the Good News in that?                             

Well, as I said before, the God that I know is not a God who makes the poor poorer and the rich richer.  The God I meet in scripture, through Jesus and through those around me is a God who points out this reality in order to change it.  The God I know does not go away, leaving us to use our resources however we will, nor does this God celebrate or even condone the fact that to those who have more is given and to those who have not even what they have is taken away.

  Instead the God I know is a God of love.  The God I meet in Jesus is one who gives and gives, especially to those who lack and are poor. This God does not ask if you are worthy or trustworthy.  This is a God of grace who continues to give and love despite the fact that ALL of us fall short, and ALL of us have areas in which we “have not” or are lacking. The God Jesus talks about never leaves, but is with us always, guiding, holding, comforting us along our paths.  And the God of the Gospels is selfless, even to the point of risking and experiencing death because of us.  And even then that same God’s love does not stop but grows to the point at which it overcomes even death and returns again and again with open arms still full of love, hope, and grace.  The God we worship and trust is the God who invites us and calls us to become a part of creating God’s reign on earth.

And this is where the gospel stories returns.  Because in order to be a part of bringing heaven to earth, we do have to be willing to listen, even when the words are hard, to hear the truth in the parables and stories Jesus shares with us.  In order to be a piece of God’s kingdom, we have to trust God, depend on God, use what we have been given to serve in gratitude the God who gave us everything!  God’s kingdom is here and now.  But we are called to be part of ushering that in. 

When we choose, like the slave with the one talent in Luke’s story, to see God as greedy and punishing, we exclude ourselves from the life God offers us. Fearing that we will lose all, we take no risks.  We imprison ourselves when we choose not to see God’s light, God’s miracles, God’s beauteous renewing of creation every day.

The slaves with the ten pounds and five pounds saw and believed in a master who was loving and good.  They risked because they trusted.  And in return, they found the love they expected, they were met by a generous master, and they shared in God’s kingdom.  The slave with the one talent didn’t just have less.  He chose to see and believe in a harsh master and in fear he lost everything.

As loving and merciful as God is, this is a choice we make.  Do we choose to hide and protect what we have, believing in an angry, jealous, harsh God?  Or do we see the God of love who has given us everything we have and out of gratitude do we then help bring about the kingdom of God for ourselves and those around us?  Do we offer those in need the things they need, giving more to those who have not than those who have?  From a place of trust and faith then we can risk offering a homeless person food, we can stop and say a kind word to someone who is alone, we can take a few minutes to listen to someone’s story.  Out of our abundance, we can be part of creating a world of abundance, even out of nothing.

That’s not to say it’s easy.  From those who have, much is expected.  We who have are expected to give more in order to fully be part of God’s kingdom.  It is also not to say that bad things won’t happen.  God is not a magic fairy whom you can pray to and expect to have your wishes granted.  God is generous, but God doesn’t stop the world from playing out, often with bad things.  But God is present with us, holding us, loving us in the midst of those challenging times and situations.  And God calls us to be part of creating the kingdom on earth with the resources and gifts we have: God calls us, invites us to be part of this no matter what is going on in our lives.

A young boy and his grandmother were walking along the sea shore when a huge wave appeared out of nowhere, sweeping the child out to sea.  The horrified woman fell to her knees, raised her eyes to the heavens and begged God to return her beloved grandson.  Amazingly, another wave reared up and deposited the stunned child on the sand before her.  The grandmother looked the boy over carefully.  He was fine.  But still she stared up angrily towards the heavens.  “When we came,” she snapped indignantly, “he had a hat!”

Which God do we see?  The God who saved the child?  Or the God who did not rescue the boy’s hat?  Which world do we choose to be a part of?  A world in which everyone else is out to get us and we just have to hold on and take care of our own?  Or a world in which, when we share and give and love, God gives back ten fold?  God invites us to be part of God’s new and glorious creation.  God hopes for us to trust, and love and live and be joyful.  God calls us to be God’s heaven on earth and to share it with others.

We pray, God, that a little at a time, you would lead us to risk and enter the kingdom which you have prepared for us and which is, by your great grace and love, all around us, all the time. Amen.

yesterday's sermon - Love Vs. Fear

Psalm 22
1 John 4:7-21

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear expects punishment. The person who is afraid has not been made perfect in love. We love because God first loved us. If anyone says, I love God, and hates a brother or sister, he is a liar, because the person who doesn’t love a brother or sister who can be seen can’t love God, who can’t be seen.  This commandment we have from him: Those who claim to love God ought to love their brother and sister also.”

Wow.  There is so much in these texts for today.  So much.  I’ve been focusing on similar texts from 1 John on Wednesday evenings as well.  They are not easy texts.  Perfect love casts out fear, and those who are in fear are not in love.  And then “Anyone who doesn’t love a brother or sister can’t love God.”  Wow.  “Those who claim to love God ought to love their brother and sister also.”  And then Jesus goes on to tell us to, “Love your enemies.”  Wow.  Who can do all of this?  Who can live without fear?  Who can love their enemies?  Who is it who loves every person without exception?  And who is loving to even those who are hurtful and sinful and bad to us or, what’s even harder, who can love those who hurt our loved ones, our children?
None of us succeed at all of this.  And yet the passage from 1st John would tell us that when we are afraid, we are not living in love.  And when we fail to be loving, to anyone, we are not loving God.
There is a great deal in this passage, but what I want to especially focus on today is the fear aspect of this passage.  Fear casts out love.  Love casts out fear.  We see this all the time.  As we hear about what is going on in Baltimore, regardless of how you understand or interpret the events, we can see the truth about fear and love.  The fear and anger of those rioting includes no love for those they feel or believe have hurt them.  There is only fear, which leads to anger, which leads to hate, which leads to this kind of destruction and, indeed, to suffering.  And the response of those on the other side is also fear, which includes no love or ability to hear what the rioters are trying to say with their rioting behavior.  There’s no love because everyone is acting out of their fear.  And again, no matter how you understand what is going on politically, or who you see being at fault here, it is easy to see that fear is truly casting out love.  No one is hearing, no one is seeing with eyes of compassion, no one is engaging in the empathy, understanding, and possibilities for constructive change that love demands. Fear IS leading to anger, which is leading to hate, which is leading to destruction and which is then causing great suffering.
The thing we tend to fear most is death.  That’s not always true, but I do think as a general rule it is what we fear most.  And even though Jesus’ resurrection shows us that we don’t even need to fear death, that there is life after death, that even death is ultimately defeated, when we are faced with death, and even more, I think, when the people we love are faced with death, it is really hard to hang on to our peace, our commitment to loving even our enemies, our call to choose love over fear.
We struggle so much with fear.  I mentioned in a newsletter article a few months ago, that not only have parks removed all of the little merry-go-rounds we used to have along with the see-saws, but now they are starting to remove swing sets because “some kid might walk in front of the swing and get knocked down!”  I loved that equipment as a kid, especially the swings.  But because of our fear of someone getting hurt, we are removing those opportunities for kids.  When I was a kid, I was shoved out the door early in the morning to play in the street with the other kids on our block, called home only for supper in the evenings.  I walked, hiked, by myself starting at age 6 in the foothills of Mt. Diablo.  Could I have been hurt?  Of course.  I could have fallen in a mole hole and sprained an ankle.  I could have been bitten by a spider or a snake.  Someone bad might have been in those hills when I was up there who might have grabbed me or worse.  There are all kinds of dangers I could have suffered.  But those walks in those hills are my fondest child-hood memories.  It is in those hills that I found, met and grew close to God.  I got my exercise in those hills without my parents ever paying a cent, staying in shape physically, emotionally and spiritually in those hills.  Now a days I would never, ever let my kids walk in them alone.  I would never let my kids play in the streets unsupervised.  We would never do this.  Our kids stay inside unless they are in an outdoor sporting situation that is heavily supervised.  But I wonder what we have lost because of our desire to protect them.  About three years ago, I read another article on line about how dangerous ice cream trucks are and what MIGHT happen to kids who went to buy ice cream from them – they could be kidnapped or poisoned.  In the comment section, someone asked the reporter if the scenario he had painted had actually ever happened.  The journalist admitted, “well, no, I haven’t been able to find any record of anything like this actually happening.  But it COULD happen.”  Well, yes, anything could happen.  But does it mean we simply stop living because of our fear?  I wonder more and more, how much we have lost out of fear.  I wonder how much living we have denied those we love the very most because we are afraid and want to protect them.  And I wonder as we move forward at what point we will just insist that everyone stay in their own isolated homes with the doors all locked all the time because we are just too afraid to go out.  It is not just love that is chased away by fear.  LIFE itself is also chased away by fear.  We are so afraid of death, that we don’t allow ourselves or our loved ones to LIVE the life we are so terrified of giving up!  The thing with fear is that it simply doesn’t leave room for anything else – like beauty, or purpose.  Like hope, or joy.  Like reconciliation or peace.  Like LOVE.
Marianne Williamson said, “We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
About ten years ago a book came out, “The Price of Privilege” which was written by a woman. Madeline Levine, doing research into those growing up in Marin County, possibly the most affluent community in our country.  The kids were not allowed to fail.  Or rather, the parents of these kids did not allow them to fail.  If a kid had a paper due the next day that they had put off, the parents would help the kids write the paper, staying up all night with them in order to assure their success.  These kids simply were not allowed to experience failure in any way.  The parents had this huge fear of their kids not being at the very top.  And they had a huge fear of their kids suffering at all to the point where they would be helicopter parents, overseeing every activity and situation.  Making sure nothing bad ever happened to their kids.  But the researcher then followed the kids when they left home and went on to college.  Some experienced failure at college then for the very first time.  The parents weren’t there to write the papers for them or stand up for them.  For others it wasn’t until they got their first jobs.  But either way, life includes failure.  And what this researcher found was that these kids had no experience handling failure and so when they experienced it finally, they simply were not able to cope.  The suicide rates among these kids was astronomical.  The clinical depression rate even higher.  In not allowing the kids to live all of life, which includes experiencing hard times, they did not build up a resilience or coping ability in their children which would allow them to know that everything passes, that what one experiences in each moment does not define the entirety of life.
I read an article this morning that was talking about how much good it does for kids to occasionally fall, get hurt, experience pain and learn to move through and beyond it.  Our fear of our kids experiencing any kind of pain or hurt damages them more than we can imagine.  Fear.  Fear, fear, fear.  Damaging all of us, keeping us from love, keeping us from LIFE.
The Good News in this is that God knows this is not easy for us.  God understands that.  Every time an angel appears in scripture, the first words they speak are words of calm, “Do not be afraid.”  Every time.  And then we come to have Jesus’ experience.  And we have his cry from the cross, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” which I think expresses both a feeling of abandonment, and also a feeling of fear.  In that, I find great hope.  Because it says that God, too, experienced those feelings, those very human feelings.  And while God calls us to step out of fear, because in fear we really are unable to feel love and compassion and empathy for that which we fear, at the same time, God loves us through that fear.  And God will call us into a love that surpasses it.  Psalm 22 reminds us not only that God has experienced all of what it is to be human, from our deepest pain to our fear, it also shows us that when we turn that over to God, when we turn over the fear as well as the pain to God, that we are reminded that God is bigger than both.  Vs. 27 of the Psalm – “Every part of the earth will remember and come back to the Lord; every family among all the nations will worship you.”  We have nothing to fear.  Ultimately God wins.  On this, the 5th Sunday of Easter, we can remember the promise – God wins every time.  Love wins every time.  Death was overcome.  Fear was overcome.  Love conquered all.
Yes, we will feel afraid.  It is human.  And God knows that.  But we can turn that over to God.  And we can trust in God’s promise that Love wins.  The more we trust it, the less we will fear.  The less we fear, the more we can love.  The more we love, the closer we come to God.  Every time.  Amen.