Healings and Signs

 

John 4:46-5:18

               I want to start today by asking you a question.  What things did Jesus do in his ministry?  Teaching, preaching and healing.  Anything else?

               Why healing?  Do you think it was to get people’s attention so that they would pay attention to him?  Do you think it was so people would like him, come to listen to him?  Was he trying to be liked?  Was he trying to show signs to prove he was who he said he was?  Was it about proof?  Was it about forcing people to believe?  Or was it for another reason? 

               Jesus spent a lot of time touching, caring for, listening to, and engaging people that other people rejected.  Those with leprosy were outcasts.  They couldn’t live with their families and it was assumed that someone in their family or the person themself, must have done something wrong and that is why this person was sick.  Disease was believed to be punishment.  Some people still have this thinking but they call it Karma.  While there are different understandings of what Karma is (so I’m not knocking the idea itself), some believe that while it may not be clear why there are people who suffer and others who don’t, those who suffer must have done something to deserve it, either in this life or in a past life.  But Jesus first confronted this idea with words like “the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous,” and “He replied, “Do you think the suffering of these … proves that they were more sinful than all the others?  No, I tell you!”  But he went much further than just declaring that it wasn’t their fault that they were afflicted.

               He touched, he talked to and with, and he healed any who were in need – the rejected, the outcast, the condemned, the judged, the dismissed.  He touched them, included them, treated them as the incredible and beautiful people that they were, regardless of how others treated them.

               I have a ten dollar bill here.  If I mangle it and squish it and stomp on it, if I make it dirty or even filthy, what is it then worth?  It is still worth ten dollars.  The appearance, the condition, the outward attributes of this money don’t change it’s worth.  Well, Jesus was able to see that this is the same with people.  He saw beyond the outside of the bill.  He saw beyond the dirt, the scrounge, the disease.  He saw beyond the vocations, the successes, the judgments, the rejections.  He saw beyond their achievements, their choices, their mistakes, their sins.  He saw beyond all of that to who they WERE.  And who they were is the same as who you are – you are a child of God.  Worthy of infinite value. 

               I came across an article in Sojourner’s Magazine that was talking about Henri Nouwen.  Henri Nouwen was an amazingly gifted priest, professor and writer.  I love his books, I love the way he thinks.  He has a brilliant as well as deeply faithful and spiritual mind.  But after teaching for many years, he was invited to become pastor to a community of people with intellectual disabilities.  He soon discovered that they didn’t care how brilliant he was, and all the wonderful things he had written and taught just didn’t mean that much to them.  He told the story in one of his books, Life of the Beloved, of one particular woman, Janet, who one day asked Henri for a blessing.  When he tried to bless her with the sign of the cross on her forehead she became very upset and said, “No, I want a real blessing!”  He didn’t know what to do with that, but that evening at worship, he mentioned that Janet had asked for a real blessing, and as he was speaking she marched up to the front and gave him a huge hug.  In that moment, he found the words that were needed.  “Janet, I want you to know that you are God’s beloved daughter.  You are precious in God’s eyes.  Your beautiful smile, your kindness to the people in your house, and all the good things you do show us what a beautiful human being you are.  I know you feel a little low these days and that there is some sadness in your heart, but I want you to remember who you are: a very special person, deeply loved by God and all the people who are here with you.”  She gave him a satisfied smile, but as Nouwen then turned away, he found himself surrounded by the others in the community also asking for blessings.  Henri gave each one a hug and a personal affirmation that they were loved as they were.  And Henri walked away a changed man.

               There is a video called “Who You Are: A Message to All Women.” The man who created it also did one for all men.  I wish I could show you, but instead I’m just going to read to you the words.  The person who created this did this video for all of you: for all people.  In the video, he walks onto a stage and he says this:

“You are beautiful.  You are smart.  You are funny.  You are kind.  You are unique.  You are worthy of Love and affection.  You are never too much. And you are always enough.  You are precious.  You are a diamond, a rose, a pearl, the most stunning of all God’s creation.  You are worth more than you could ever imagine.  Worth more than the numbers on the scale, or the hair product you use or the shoes you wear. More than how many (people) wish they were you, or how many people wish they had you.  More than the price tag on your clothes or the percentage on the top of your math test or even the number of followers you have on twitter.  Your worth surpasses all earthly things because in the eyes of God you are loved and you are worth dying for.  Regardless of who you think you are.  Whether you model in a magazine or you model pottery with grandma. Whether you are on the hot list or the not list.  Whether you’re head cheer leader or a high school drop out.  Whether you are miss popular or whether you’ve never had anyone you could call a friend.  Whether you love yourself and love your life or you can’t stand to look in the mirror and you feel everything is falling apart.  Whether you are such a winner or you feel like the world’s biggest failure.  Regardless of who you think you are.  The reality is that you deserve someone who would give up their life for you because you are powerful and strong and capable.  Read about the women in the bible: Esther, Ruth, Mary, Martha.  These women changed the world forever and inside of you each and every one of you is a person with that same power and strength and that same world changing capability. And your responsibility is to find that woman and set that woman free.  This is who you are.  And any voices in your mind that try to tell you differently are not from God.  And when you hear that voice you say to it, no: not me.  I am a daughter of the living God: cherished, loved above all things.  I am awesome!  Please, don’t forget it.”           

               This is a beautiful sentiment.  But the reality is that it is a different thing when that kind of blessing comes from someone who really knows you and really loves you, when the blessing is genuine because it is from a place of real knowing.  One of the lines in a praise song that I like is. “This is what I’m sure of, I can only show love When I really know how loved I am. When it overtakes me, Then it animates me, Flowing from my heart into my hands.”  I think there is deep truth in this. 

               Unlike some of our faith brothers and sisters who say our relationship with God begins with our conversion, with our submission, with our choosing to change, I believe with every fiber in my being that instead, our relationship with God begins with God loving us, with God choosing us.  That love allows us to change, that love gives us the courage and strength to change, that love is what allows us to love others and to follow in Jesus’ footsteps. 

               Jesus not only healed the bodies of the outcast, the oppressed, the disadvantaged, and the physically broken.  He healed their souls by showing them, reminding them, acting in a way that said beyond a doubt that they were loved and valued, that they were worthy, that God still saw them as more important and beautiful than anything they could imagine. 

In writing this sermon, I found myself reflecting on the movie The Help.  The Help is a movie about the caste system in the Southern states, especially in the late 50s and early 60s.  Poor and oppressed African American women worked as “help” to the powerful, wealthy white women.  The help raised the white women’s kids, the help cleaned their clothes, made their food, took care of their families and homes but were treated like dirt, were less than, were always the servants and never treated as equals.  Despite this, despite this, the black women often loved the white babies they cared for.  They genuinely cared for and about them, knowing all the while that those white babies would probably still grow up to be their own oppressors.  In the movie, the main character, Abilene, had care over a specific toddler, Mae Mobley, who was not loved by her own mother.  Mae Mobley’s own mother saw her as a hassle, as a problem, as a burden.  She did not want her or love her, and did not want to care for her.  And so, as Mae Mobley herself said to Abilene, “You are my real mother” and in so very many ways she was.  Abilene had a routine, then, that she did every day with Mae Mobley.  She would take this little girl of two or so years of age and say to her, “You is smart. You is kind. You is important!”  And she would ask Mae Mobley to repeat it and remember it.  Towards the end of the movie Abilene was fired.  And Mae Mobley was left with this mother who didn’t like her.  Abilene, in tears, turned to the little girl and said, “Baby, I have to retire now.  You are my last little girl.  But I need you to remember everything that I told you.  Do you remember what I told you?”  To which Mae Mobley repeated, “You is strong.  You is kind.  You is important!”  “Yes,” Abilene cries, “Please remember.”  And then she turned to the mother and told her to give her sweet girl a chance. 

We are invited to do the same.  As we are called to follow, we heal others by showing them how loved they are.  That starts by remembering how loved YOU are, by trusting in that love, by resting in that love.  God’s love for you is so deep that Jesus healed.  God’s love for you is so deep that God continues to offer all the different kinds of healing: healing of soul, healing of emotions, healing of spirit especially.  That may not look like physical healing.  But healing is offered in many, many ways.  It is often not the physical healing we would hope for: our bodies age and all of our lives are mortal.  But that does not mean that healing is not there for us.  It is there, but in many different ways.  We are called to look for it, to accept it, to embrace it.  And then to go into the world, affirming, uplifting, and healing one another.  Amen.

What is a miracle

 

                                             Luke 7:1-17

                                             Mark 1:29-39

               Columnist Connie Shultz said, “Maybe you, too have been stopped dead in your tracs by a sign that assures us there’s something bigger at work than our own stubborn will (p 6). …  Someone describes an experience that defies our idea of reality, or we’re suddenly reeling from our own mystical moment, and we are forced to think about what we do and do not believe in.  … Often there’s a frankness to these stories that makes them hard to dismiss.”  She goes on to tell this story: “Soon after my mother died, I was driving and listening to NPR like I always do when, inexplicably, I reached down and switched the radio station.  “I know you’re watching over me from heaven,” the singer crooned.  Still raw with grief, I sighed and said out loud, “I miss you, Ma.”  Then I looked at the license plate on the car straight ahead: MISS U2.”

               I have my own stories of some might call “signs”, others might call “miracles” and still others say are just coincidences or unexplainable events.  I have my stories, and many of you have shared with me your own.  But what intrigues me the most is when those of you who don’t believe God intervenes in ways that are more tangible, or outside of human influence or thought, when even you have shared with me stories about things that you have seen or experienced that were inexplicable, beyond what we normally feel is scientific or within the realm of “normal” laws of science.  Those stories of the mysterious, unexplainable, Divine, fascinate me, and call me to reflect deeper on what we sometimes call “miracles.” 

               The truth for me is that if I’m keeping my eyes open, gifts, or miracles, come to me on an almost daily basis.  The miracles of my own experience tend to fall within human influence, but that doesn’t make them less profound for me.  I see God working through those who listen to God, who are open to God’s movement.  I see God’s hand touching and guiding and bringing light and life through others, and sometimes through my own psyche.  I’ll have a dream that is a deep gift, for example.  Last week I had this wonderful dream that I was being driven by someone else and trying to get to school on time.  They drove a way I didn’t know and then asked me for directions.  I had to tell them that I honestly did not know how to get to the school from where we were, but that I would see if I could find out.  I was looking at the map app on my phone without any luck, when the driver suddenly pulled over.  I assumed the driver pulled over so that we could take the time to figure out where we were, but when I looked up I saw that we were actually parked right in front of the school.  Despite my being lost, the driver got me to where I needed to be.  Despite my inability to find my way using the resources that I had at hand, the driver still led me to where I needed to be in that moment.  That dream was a gift, or I might say, a miracle.  But other things happen too.  This last week Ben and Lynn dropped off a little gift for me.  It was a book.  They could have no way of knowing that that day had been especially challenging for me, they had no way of knowing what I was struggling with or what I had experienced that week; but the words of the book were needed at that very moment that I received them.  It was a book full of little wisdoms, but all of them, ALL of them spoke to me in one way or another.  I wept as I read through the book.  And then I wept again, with my daughter, as I read it to her.  I wept again as I read it to David.  And each time I read it, other gifts came from it.  Phrases such as, “being kind to yourself is one of the greatest kindnesses” and “One of our greatest freedoms is how we react to things” as well as “imagine how we would be if we were less afraid” and “Don’t measure how valuable you are by the way you are treated” – each of them was a miracle of words: a gift of God’s grace given right when it was needed.  Perhaps these do not feel like miracles to you.  Or perhaps you define “miracle” differently.  But for me, I would always describe these things as God’s presence touching, moving, interfering, acting, beyond what was “normal” or expected. 

               Still, we also know there are problems with the ideas of miracles.  Those problems start with the question, how come some seem to have these experiences and others don’t?  I have a very close friend who is an atheist.  She was raised Presbyterian, but she left the faith because, she says, she was too science minded for faith.  Well, I see myself as science-minded too and so we have interesting conversations about faith, and about belief.  She said to me one time, “Do you actually have experiences of God?  Because I don’t understand it otherwise.  You are a rational, intelligent person.  Surely you don’t believe in a man sitting in the clouds waving a magic wand around that gives some people things and curses others.”  Well, no, I don’t.  That image of God is not mine.  But do I have experiences of God?  All the time.  But as we discussed them, as I shared them, I saw the growing pain and frustration that she felt.  “Why don’t I have those experiences?”  She asked.  A question I have yet to be able to answer for either of us.

               More problematically, as we discussed in Bible study a couple weeks ago, why is it that some people have their prayers answered with a “yes” and others don’t?  Why is it that one of my friend’s many children contracted spinal meningitis and miraculously survived it, while my other friend’s only son also contracted it and died?  Why is it that WWII happened, that so many people were tortured and killed, that today children have been torn away from their parents and put in cages, why is there human trafficking, slavery, kidnapping and child abuse, and why are some people completely unable to see people who are different than themselves as the brothers and sisters that they are?  Why are they judged, condemned and made “other”?  Why is racism such a continual, terrible problem in our country?  Why do people in some countries suffer such prosecution, violence or poverty that they feel they have to flee, even at the risk of their lives?  Why is it that I’ve had a safety net of resources and family so that when my world came crashing down, there was support, there were help so that I was able to pick up the pieces, whereas we know that many of our unhouses people just didn’t have the safety net to catch them when something major went wrong?  Do we really think that God blesses some and doesn’t bless others?  And if so, do we lie to ourselves, against all scripture, by saying that somehow those who have deserve it, while those who “have not” don’t?  Surely we can’t look at Jesus, who lost his life so young to a horrible crucifixion and say that those who suffer do so because they deserved to suffer.  God is not Santa Claus.  And we hear from Jesus himself, “The rain falls on the just and unjust alike.” 

            As we've talked about many times there are three statements that just can't be reconciled, "God is all powerful", "God is all good" and "Bad things happen".  We've also talked about how many Christians have come to believe that God has given up power in order to have genuine relationship with us, giving us free-will, which means that bad things happen.

               But then we have scriptures like the two we read today.  Miracles are happening.  Jesus is bringing life to those he encounters.  Even raising the dead boy in the second reading.  And still the question must be asked, why does he raise that boy, but not those we love who have died?  As I grieve my dear friend who died last week, suddenly, when her heart just gave out, I wonder.  She was a pastor, an historian, an amazingly generous, loving, giving person.  Why did she die?  When her life was so needed?  So valuable?  When so many others live whose lives seem destructive, unkind, ungracious? 

               Another question that constantly comes up in the face of miracles is why is it that these big miracles only seem to happen in the stories of the past?  In the stories of our scriptures, in the stories of Jesus but not now?  Does God not care anymore?  Who can explain this? 

               So what do we do with these?  What do we do with the questions of miracles?  With the concerns about miracles?  What do we do when we have specific wants, specific “needs” and we feel that God is not meeting them?  Do we give up our faith?  Do we walk away?  Do we decide it is a personal judgment on ourselves that our lives are difficult and hard and that God is somehow punishing us with challenges?  And maybe even more troubling, what do we do when we see miracles still?  How do we accept the “yes” in them when so many others hear “no”?

               I find myself listening to many of the wise voices of others. 

               Einstein is quoted as having said ““There are two ways to live life.  You can live it as if nothing is a miracle.  Or you can live it like everything is.”  He also said, “Coincidence is just another name for God.”

               Henry David Thoreau said, “Could a greater miracle take place than to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?”

               Sr. Joan Chittister related, “Once, the ancients say, a seeker asked a group of disciples: "Does your God work miracles?" And they replied, "It depends on what you call a miracle. Some people say that a miracle is when God does the will of people. We say that a miracle is when people do the will of God."

               Frederick Buechner said, “A cancer inexplicably cured.  A voice in a dream.  A statue that weeps.  A miracle is an event that strengthens faith.  It is possible to look at most miracles and find rational explanation in terms of natural cause and effect.  It is possible to look at Rembrandt’s “Supper at Emmaus” and find a rational explanation in terms of paint and canvas.  Faith in God is less apt to proceed from miracles than miracles from faith in God.” (Wishful Thinking p 63)

               Most of the time, the stories we read in scripture are meant to convey a deeper meaning.  Often we are called and invited to search more deeply, underneath the stories, to hear what they are actually saying to us, what God is communicating to us.  But, a pastor in my lectionary group this week had a different take on these stories.  He said that maybe the “deeper meaning” of the stories is the healing itself.  Maybe the miracles themselves are the deep message: God says to you through these stories: “you are free, you are alive, you are not captive to demons.  Jesus message is “I come to bring life,” or as the book I received this week said, “Always remember you matter, you’re important and you are loved, and you bring to this world things no one else can.”  Maybe we are looking for the wrong thing, in the wrong place, and failing to see the life that we are being given in this very moment, this very day, as the very point of all of this. 

               In the first story of the healing of the Centurion’s servant, Jesus never even sees the man whom he heals.  He never touches him, never sees him.  He talks to the Centurion, but never the servant in need of healing.  I think that message is important for us during this COVID time.   With COVID we are praying for folk who are not with us, not touching us.  We are sending our prayers and our desire for healing to those we don’t come near.  And the message we hear from Jesus is the same: the gift of life, of freedom is offered to them as well.  Even when we are apart, even when we aren’t worshiping in the same place, even when we aren’t seeing what we hope and want to see, God is offering us life in this very moment.  God is also offering that to everyone.   

               And that part of it may be a challenge for us.  Who do we see as beyond our reach?  Who do we see as beyond the reach of healing, of God?  Who is beyond redemption for us?  God is offering them life, too.  And maybe, just maybe, God is offering it to them through YOU.

               So finally, I want to end today with a poem I’ve shared with you once before:

The man whispered, "God, speak to me" and a meadowlark sang.

But, the man did not hear.

So the man yelled, "God, speak to me" and the thunder rolled across the sky.

But, the man did not listen.

The man looked around and said, "God let me see you." And a star shined brightly.

But the man did not see.

And, the man shouted, "God show me a miracle." And, a life was born.

But, the man did not notice.

So, the man cried out in despair, "Touch me God, and let me know you are here."

Whereupon, God reached down and touched the man. But, the man brushed the butterfly away .

and walked on.

I found this to be a great reminder that God is always around us in the little and simple things that we take for granted ... even in our electronic age..

And as always, I add one more:

The man cried, "God, I need your help!" And an e-mail arrived reaching out with good news and encouragement.

But, the man deleted it and continued to cry .

So my challenge to all of us is this: Don't miss out on a blessing because it isn't packaged the way that you expect.  Don’t miss out on miracles because they don’t come the way you want or expect.  Keep your eyes open and see the ways in which God brings miracles to your life.  More, see the ways in which God calls you to be the miracle for someone else.  Amen.

The Work of Praying Hard - 10/20/19

                                                               Jeremiah 31:27-34

Luke 18:1-8

In a small Texas town, Drummond's Bar began construction on a new building to increase their business. The local Baptist church started a campaign to block the bar from opening with petitions and prayers. Work progressed right up till the week before opening when lightning struck the bar and it burned to the ground. The church folks were rather smug in their outlook after that, until the bar owner sued the church on the grounds that the church was ultimately responsible for the demise of his building, either through direct or indirect actions or means.  The church vehemently denied all responsibility or any connection to the building's demise in its reply to the court.  As the case made its way into court, the judge looked over the paperwork. At the hearing he commented, 'I don't know how I'm going to decide this, but as it appears from the paperwork, we have a bar owner who believes in the power of prayer, and an entire church congregation that does not.' 

               But prayer is a complicated thing.  There is a very powerful story in the book, Leaving Northaven (Michael Lindvall. New York: Crossroads Publishing Company, 2002) that I would like to share with you.  The backdrop of the story is a woman struggling with Parkinson’s who is being told by everyone to pray for God and trust that God will heal her.  She is speaking with her pastor, named David, at this point. 

“On the 12^th of March, 1918, a prairie wolf followed me home from school.  I was walking the righthand rut of a two-rut road, alongside our cornfield, just stubble in March, of course.  I remember the snow was lying only in the furrows, blown in there by the wind.  It was like black and white stripes.  I saw him in the woods on the other side of the field.  Every once and again, he would move out of the woods, and I would see him moving along with me; he was watching me.  He kept up with me for maybe half an hour.  He was all bone, he was.  Sometimes he would stop and lower his head and just look at me.  I was scared, but I was afraid to run, like running would let him know I was alive.  So, I just walked real steady and watched him without turning to look.  And David, I prayed.  I prayed like I never prayed in my life….  It was 1918.  The Spanish Influenza.  I ran the last hundred yards and burst through the door glad to be alive.  My parents and brother looked up at me from the kitchen table.  Their eyes were red, I remember how their eyes were red.  I’ll never forget it, the three of them sitting there, looking at me.  My father got up and came to me.  I can still see him.  He took me by both shoulders and looked down at me and told me that Gert had just died, not ten minutes ago.  They had just come downstairs from our room.  Then he held me tight, so tight it almost hurt.  I remember that especially, how tight he held me.  And then he sobbed.  Not for the whole of your life do you forget it when you see your parents weep.  That was the only time I ever saw him cry.  I don’t know that my mother ever did.  Gertrude was my older sister.  She was fourteen.  I never even told them about the wolf.  Never told anybody till now….It was like God had answered my prayers when the wolf was following me home.  So the wolf let me go, but he came for Gertrude.  That’s what I thought.  For years, I thought it must have been my fault.  It was like my prayers had caused it.  I know other families had it worse in the influenza, but I adored her, David.  Why didn’t God answer all those prayers for Gert?…  I stopped praying that Parkinson’s would leave me alone because I remembered the wolf, the wolf and Gertrude and the Spanish Influenza.  I was afraid of what my prayers might do.  I didn’t pray for two, three years.  I ached to, but the old words wouldn’t come.  And then finally, after all these years, I finally decided that it wasn’t my fault.  I decided it was never Gertrude instead of me.  I prayed again, but I said bigger prayers.  I just tell [God] what I think and how I feel.  I don’t much tell [God] what to do.  I just tell Him I’m afraid, afraid for me and afraid for the boys and afraid for that old fool of a husband.  I suppose He knows it all already, but words make it solid.  I always whispered them at night when I was awake.”…

(The pastor continued,), I had no quick words in the face of her transparency, but knew only candor would do.  “I do think God answers prayer,” I answered.  “But I’m not sure anymore just what it means.  I’ve watched too many people pray their hearts out and get nothing that looked like an answer.  And then I’ve watched folks pray for miracles and get them.  I don’t know.”

“Well Pastor, don’t worry.  This old lady’s prayers have been answered.”  Minnie MacDowell suddenly switched to the formalities of Protestant address to preach her sermon, “Not the answers I wanted, though.  God didn’t take away the Parkinson’s but he did take away the fear.” (p 116) 

               I believe that prayer “works” but I don’t believe it works by manipulating God, in the way that so many people believe that it does.  About 20 years ago one of the big storms that so often hit the East coast blew through the Eastern Seaboard.  A prominent televangelist took a group of about 12 people down to the coast and they formed a tight prayer circle as the storm approached.  They prayed that the storm would not hit the coast where they were.  Sure enough, the storm went around them.  Instead, it hit the coast a few miles north of where they stood and killed many, many people.  This particular televangelist went on TV spouting his proof that prayer worked, and it surely seemed to for those 12 people.  But what about for those who were also surely praying, further north?  I recently saw a story about a man who insisted that all the climate problems were a result of God responding to the prayers of anti- LGBTQ people by punishing the country.  Then his house was destroyed in one of the hurricanes.  But somehow he did not see THAT as an answer to prayer or as punishment from God or as a message from God.  I feel that prayer used in this way, comments about God’s will as determined by what happens around us – that these are dangerous, and shows a very poor theology.

               Every time someone tells me that someone received healing after being prayed for, I find myself cringing a bit because every single time I remember all of those who were also prayed for who did not survive, did not heal.  Did those other people just not pray hard enough?  Was their faith not strong enough?  I don’t believe that.  Was God just saying “yes” to some and “no” to others?  I struggle with that, especially when it is a child who has suffered.  Does God “need” certain people to be in heaven?  No, I can’t see that either.  God gave us life and wants us to have it in fullness.  I struggle with the idea that there is a God who answers prayers for some but allows the Holocaust to take place, slavery to go on in different places and in different ways, throughout history and even now,  and who is not preventing the damaging of the earth or the extinction of whole species of animals due to Climate Change.  I think we have to understand prayer differently if we are to believe in a good and loving God. 

In the book, Tattoos on the Heart (New York: Free Press, 2010), Father Gregory Boyle tells this story:

              

               Willy crept up on me from the driver’s side.  I had just locked the office and was ready to head home at 8:00pm. 

                              “Shit, Willy,” I say, “Don’t be doin’ that.”

               “Spensa, G”, he says, “My bad.  It’s just.. well my stomach’s on echale.  Kick me down with twenty bones, yeah?”

               “God, my wallet’s on echale,” I tell him.  A “dog” is the one upon whom you can rely – the role-dog, the person who has your back.  “But get in.  Let’s see if I can trick any funds outta the ATM.”

               Willy hops on board.  He is a life force of braggadocio and posturing – a thoroughly good soul – but his confidence is out-size, that of a lion wanting you to know he just swallowed a man whole.  A gang member, but a peripheral one at best – he wants more to regale you with his exploits than to actually be in the midst of any.  In his mid-twenties, Willy is a charmer, a quintessential homie con man who’s apt to coax money out of your ATM if you let him.  This night, I’m tired and I want to go home.

               It’s easier not to resist.  The Food 4 Less on Fourth and Soto has the closest ATM.  I tell Willy to stay in the car, in case we run into one of Willy’s rivals inside.

               “Stay here, dog,” I tell him, “I’ll be right back.”

               I’m not ten feet away when I hear a muffled, “hey.”

               It’s Willy and he’s miming, “the keys,” from the passenger seat of my car.  He’s making over-the-top, key-in-the-ignition senales. 

               “The radio,” he mouths, as he holds a hand, cupping his ear.

               I wag a finger, “No, chale.”  Then it’s my turn to mime.  I hold both my hands together and enunciate exaggeratedly, “Pray.”

               Willy sighs and levitates his eyeballs.  But he’s putty.  He assumes the praying hands pose and looks heavenward – cara santucha.  I proceed on my quest to the ATM but feel the need to check in on Willy only ten yards later.

               I turn and find him still in the prayer position, seeming to be only half-aware that I’m looking in on him.

               I return to the car, twenty dollars in hand, and get in.  Something has happened here.  Willy is quiet, reflective, and there is a palpable sense of peace in the vehicle.  I look at Willy and say, “you prayed, didn’t you?”

               He doesn’t look at me.  He’s still and quiet.  “Yeah, I did.”

               I start the car.

               “Well, what did God say to you?”  I ask him.

               “Well, first He said, ‘Shut up and listen.’”

               “So, what d’ya do?”

               “Come on, G,” he says, “What am I s’posed ta do?  I shut up and listened.”

               I begin to drive him home to the barrio.  I’ve never seen Willy like this.  He’s quiet and humble – no need to convince me of anything or talk me out of something else.

               “So, son, tell me something, “ I ask.  “How do you see God?”

               “God?” he says, “That’s my dog right there.”

               “And God?” I ask, “How does God see you?”

               Willy doesn’t answer at first.  So I turn and watch as he rests his head on the recliner, staring at the ceiling of my car.  A tear falls down his cheek.  Heart full, eyes overflowing.  “God… thinks… I’m… firme.”

               To the homies, firme means, “could not be one bit better.”

               Not only does God think we’re firme, it is God’s joy to have us marinate in that. (p23)

And in that is the truth of prayer.  And yet, there is something deeper here.  I heard someone say once that God doesn’t answer our prayers, God answers US.  Someone else told me, we keep asking for answers, but God keeps sending us people.  Under all of this is what C.S. Lewis says about prayer, “I do not pray to change God.  I pray so that God might change me.”   We open ourselves up to God through praying, through speaking our truth and then listening.  We learn about ourselves through our honest communication with God, and we allow for growth and change to become possibilities as we listen for God’s voice and look for God in our experiences, in other people, in the world and life around us.  I believe that God is more present in our prayers than we can even imagine.  God begins the conversation and we respond to it by praying.  God begins the conversation by creating us, by calling us, by choosing us and by inviting us into relationship with God.  We join that conversation through our prayers, and then, hopefully, by our actions of love and care as well. 

That doesn’t let us off the hook for praying.  I was given a wonderful article by Edward Hayes, written last year I believe called “Thanksgiving Thoughts.”  He wrote ‘friendship takes time, education takes time, meals that are truly holy and wholesome take time – and so does prayer.  We Americans are a people who suffer from a great poverty of time.  We are always short of time: to write letters to visit old friends, to enjoy life.  And the near future, especially for middle-class Americans, will find our clocks running faster and faster.  With husbands and wives both working, numerous commitments to the parish, school and community and with children involved in numerous extracurricular activities, we are left with less and less quality time within the family.  Consequently, we can expect to see, in the coming years, more instant foods and quick worship services.  But just as a 19 ½ pound turkey baked only for a minute will be a disaster dinner, so will prayers dashed off “on the run.”  The soul, like the body, knows hunger, and it will not easily be able to digest even a half-baked prayer, let alone some kind of ‘minute meditation.”   Hayes goes on to describe the different steps of basting, preheating, stuffing and finally cooking for a long time our prayers just as we would cook a turkey.  His point is that relationships with God take the same time that any relationships take. 

Prayer is important, but not because we control God with it.  It’s important because it helps us build a relationship with God, and if that seems meaningless to you, prayer is important because it helps you to hear your own thoughts, wishes, fears, what you are grateful for, who you are becoming, who you have been.  Prayer opens us up to hearing God, to being moved by God, to changing and growing.  Prayer takes time, but it is very well spent and should be a priority for all of us.  The good news in this?  Well, prayer is where we meet God.  And more, where God meets us.  Amen.

A Faith that Can Move Mountains

Habakkuk 2:2-5

Matthew 17:14-21

            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?”

            Faith.

            The New Testament, especially, is filled with references to faith.  I believe, and have preached to you before, that there is really very little difference between faith and works; if you have faith, you will do the works.  And the truth is that we fall short in both areas.  Fortunately, salvation, whatever that means to you, is more about grace than either faith or works.  None the less, faith remains something that we strive to increase constantly.  According to today’s Gospel lesson, even the tiniest amount of faith will move mountains.  Yet, we rarely see even that much faith.  The exceptions are notable because of their rarity.

            Rev. Charles Tindley was an African American minister born in 1851.  He is considered the primary ancestor to African American gospel music.  He was also a dynamic preacher and a man who put his faith into action.  He turned his church basement into a soup kitchen to feed people who were without jobs in the 1920’s.  He organized a savings unit to help church members make down payments on their first homes.  He trained and educated the young people in his church.  It was out of his experience, but more, out of his faith that he wrote his sermons and his music.  His was a faith that was big enough to move mountains.  As Rev. Henry Nichols tells it:

Tindley said one morning he and his family sat down…getting ready for breakfast, and his wife said, “There is no food here.”  He said, “That’s all right.  Fix the table.  Put the dishes on – we’ll have breakfast.”  And she looked at him and said, “But Dr. Tindley, didn’t you hear me?  There’s no food here.”  He said, “That’s all right.  Fix the table.  Let’s sit down and have a prayer.”  And so she did.  The children sat down, and I’m sure the children thought he was gone…and he said, “Let’s bow our heads.”  No food: empty plates.  And then he began to pray, “Dear Lord, we thank you for what we are about to receive.”  And just then, he said, somebody knocked on the door.  He stopped and went to the door, and one of the officers said, “Brother Pastor, didn’t know whether ya’ll had anything to eat this morning.  Brought you some food over.”[1]

            Faith.

            Dorothy Day, founder and organizer of the Catholic worker shared similar stories of times when their house community, a community built for the purpose of and dedicated to serving the poor and destitute in and around them, would be on its last penny.  Time and again they would spend that last penny on whoever came to them for help because Dorothy and the workers had faith that the needed money would always come.  And it did.  On one such occasion the electric bill had to be paid and there was no money at all in the house.  The bill was for $9.57, not much now, but a lot at the time.  The power company said that the electricity would be turned off if the bill was not paid by the end of the day.  So everyone in the house began to pray.  At 4:30 that afternoon, the mail arrived and within it was a check – for $9.57, enclosed with a note apologizing for the odd amount and stating that the donor had found that much on the sidewalk and had felt called to send it to the Catholic Worker community.

            Faith.

            A doctor who worked in a country in Africa wrote:

One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter.  We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator.  (We had no electricity to run an incubator.)  Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts.  One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool the baby would be wrapped in.  Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle.  She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst.  Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates.  “And it is our last hot water bottle!” She exclaimed.  “All right,” I said, “put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts.  Your job is to keep the baby warm.”

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me.  I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby.  I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle.  The baby could so easily die if it got chills.  I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.  During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our children.  “Please, God,” she said, “send us a water bottle.  It’ll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.”  While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of a corollary, “And while you are about it, would you please send a doll for the little girl so she’ll know you really love her?”

I just did not believe that God could do this.  The only way God could answer would be for a package to arrive from my home.  I had been in Africa for almost four years and I had never, ever received a package from home.  Even if a package did come, who would send a hot water bottle?  We lived on the equator!  Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses’ training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door.  When I got there, the car was gone but in its place was a large package.  I felt tears pricking my eyes.  I could not open the package alone, so I sent for the orphanage children.  Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot.  We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it as some thirty or forty pairs of eyes focused on the box.  From the top I lifted out brightly colored knitted shirts.  Eyes sparkled as I gave them out.  Then there were cotton bandages for the leprosy patients, a box of mixed raisins that we could use to make buns on the weekend.  Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the…could it really be?  Yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle.  I had not asked God to send it; I had not really believed that God could.  Ruth was in the front row of the children.  She rushed forward crying out, “If God has sent the bottle, God must have sent the doll too!”

Rummaging around in the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small beautifully dressed doll.  Her eyes shone!  She had never doubted.  Looking at me she asked, “Can I go over with you, and give this doll to that little girl, so she’ll know that God really loves her?”  This had obviously been sent months before.  As Isaiah 65:24 says, “Before they call, I will answer.”

            There are less dramatic stories of people who don’t get exactly to the dime what we might think they are needing, but who none-the-less live day in and day out by their faith.  For these people, often people who have very little in the way of material possessions, faith the size of a mustard seed is more than enough.

            Truthfully, some people, preachers, pastors, and others have mis-used this passage in Matthew that declares the faith of a mustard seed could move mountains.  Especially faith healers who earn their money and power through miracle healings - for them, it is easy to blame those who do not experience these miraculous healings by saying they simply did not have enough faith.  But faith, like everything else that is good in this life, is a gift from God.  It is one we can cultivate, but more it is a gift we must pray for and be grateful for when it comes.  It is nothing less than abuse to blame someone’s suffering on their lack of faith.

            If faith, then, is a gift, what do these stories mean for the average person, for you and me who do not seem even to have the faith of a mustard seed?  When I was working on my doctorate I took a class called Spirituality and Justice.  In class we spent a lot of time talking about the culture of despair that exists here in the United States.  It is hard for us, though we are the wealthiest people in the world, to hold on to our faith and our hope, especially if we care about justice and care about the people in this world.  This is a dark time in which justice seems hard to come by.  Many, many people are hungry; many are dying in wars or in political situations or just out of blind hatred that they had no hand in creating; racial motivated killings, theologically motivated killings, many suffer abuse, torture and betrayal by those closest to them.  Children especially suffer in today’s world, in which child slave labor and child prostitution, human trafficking, shootings at our schools…among many other things – all of these are higher than ever before and the large majority of the hungry in the world are under 12 years of age.  How do we hang on to our faith and our hope in light of these realities?

            My first wish in telling you these stories of faith is that they might help you find hope.  We do have a God whose eye is on the sparrow and who does and will watch over us as well.  We do not have to be afraid because our needs will be attended to.  All of us worry.  We do not usually have the faith to believe that we will be taken care of, and there are reasons for that lack of faith.  There are people who don’t have enough, there are people who struggle to survive, times feel hard and dark.  Still, in our faith journeys, we are called not to always be “realists”, but instead to live, to risk, to love from a place of hope and faith.  My hope is that when you are struggling to be faithful and hopeful, when you find yourself in despair or depression that you will remember these true stories that I have shared with you today, or stories like them.  If you can’t remember them, I hope you will call me or one another.  Part of what can keep us in a place of despair and depression is the fear that we are alone or that something is wrong with us to feel this way.  You are not alone, and these feelings make sense.  So when you go through a hard time, call one another, share with one another.  We all need to work together to remember stories of faith and hope.  God has promised the resurrection after death.  It is a promise we can count on.

            Second, I hope that these stories of a faith that will move mountains will inspire all of us to “act as if” we too had that kind of faith.  Take the risk of caring for someone you think you can’t afford to help.  Take the risk of speaking out against an injustice trusting that your voice will make a difference and help change the world.  Take the risk of thanking God for providing for your needs, for the world’s needs, trusting that the provisions will come.  Even if you can’t believe it, even if you can’t find the faith, act as if you have it.  Act as if you live by faith and soon it will no longer be an act.

            Finally, I hope these stories will encourage you to pray for your faith to be increased constantly.  Faith is a gift wanting to be given.  Don’t be afraid to ask for it.  Others have asked and have been given faith in abundance.  The gift is there for you as well.

            As today’s passage in Habbakuk said, “There is still a vision for the end, and it does not lie.  If it seems to tarry, wait for it: it will surely come, it will not delay.”  That vision for the end is of resurrection.  That vision is of new life.  And it does not tarry or delay.  It comes daily to those with eyes of faith.  So pray for that faith, support one another in finding that faith, act out of faith even when you can’t muster it.  God is here.  God is love.  God will bring more than enough to the world this day and always.

---

[1] Reagon, We’ll Understand it Better By and By (Washington: Smithsonian Institute, 1992), 46

Much to Complain About

Matthew 11:16-30

Jesus says a great deal in this passage from Matthew.  But throughout the passage he is consistent.  When people fail to see the amazing blessings that surround them, when they fail to really see it and get it, they are in danger.  They are in danger of losing their very souls, not because God will take their souls from them, or punish them for their failure to see, but because in failing to see God in front of them, they fail to truly live in faith, live in connection to the Divine, live in the fullness of life that God wants to give us, chooses to give us, every day.  Jesus said, “Woe to you…to Chorazin and to Bethsaida because they didn’t see the miracles that were performed right in front of them.”  They did not see them.  They did not take them in.  The experience of being near and around these miracles, these life-changing, wonderful, beautiful experiences of healing and transformation, of God’s wanting the best for God’s people, of God wanting and making wholeness and life happen for people whom everyone else had abandoned or given up on – these experiences did not CHANGE the people of Chorazin and Bethsaida.  Witnessing these miracles did not make them want to be the best they could be, did not move them to a gratitude that would cause them to change, to “turn around” which is the actual meaning of repent – to go another way.   They were not changed by witnessing these miracles, which said to Jesus they did not really accept them, did not see, did not choose to experience God, experience Divine love through these events.  And that failure to change in response to the blessings of their lives lead Jesus to say, ‘woe to you.”

Jesus also compares his generation to what?  To whiners.  “We played the pipe for you, and or you did not dance.  We sang a dirge and you did not mourn,” the people complained. They complained that others did not respond to them in the ways they wanted, that they had worked hard, given much, and that others did not do what they expected, did not respond in the way they’d hoped to what they had done, what they had given.  The irony of it:  They complained that others were not moved by what they did.  And yet, they, were not moved by what Jesus and John did.  They complained about John because he ate differently: eating only locusts and wild honey and refraining from drinking.  They complained about Jesus because he didn’t refrain from eating and drinking.  And they dismissed the words of both people based on things that had nothing to do with what they were saying.  Who cares what John and Jesus ate?  But all of these people found ways to not see the blessings that surrounded them.  They focused on what did not fit into their ideas of what people of God should look like, act like, what they thought people of God should do or be. They focused on their judgments of others and dismissed them accordingly. They failed to see the miracles, failed to see the beauty, failed to see God in what was around them.

               Do we do this?  We’ve discussed before how Fear can lead us to see and focus on those things that are going wrong to the exclusion of the wonders and miracles around us.  Our human instincts to complain can lead us to focus on things that are not being done the way we want them to, or expect them to be done.  We want Jesus to not “party” during his life but instead to be serious and self-sacrificing at every turn.  We want John to not be “different” or eat strangely.  We want things to fit into our ideas of how they are or should be.  And if they don’t we complain.  Actually, even when they do live up to our expectations, we also complain.  And again, the problem with that is that in focusing on what we are uneasy with, we fail to see the blessings that surround us, we fail to see the good, we fail to see God, we fail to experience God’s love.  And we are lessened by that failure.  We are the ones then who do not experience Christ, or God in our midst because we are too busy focusing on the problems and not seeing the gifts to experience the blessings, love, joy, peace, compassion, peace, and ultimately the grace that God offers us every single day.

               Rev. Craig Barnes, writes, "… we assume we can make our own lives by the way we construct them for ourselves." Barnes goes on to say this: “Complaining is usually a veiled lament about deeper issues of the soul. Since most people are unaccustomed to exploring the mystery of their own souls, they will often work out their spiritual anxieties by attempting to rearrange something external - like a church's music program. But it doesn't matter how many changes they make to the environment around them. They will never succeed in finding peace for the angst of their soul until they attend directly to it... (That is why) to be of service to the Holy Spirit, who is at work in human lives, the pastor can never reduce ministry to servicing parishioners' complaints about the church. –“

               The truth is, we are often guilty of seeing what we know, what we expect and what we are used to looking for rather than knowing what we see.  (As a side note, children are much better at seeing what is around them.  The kids this week in music camp kept seeing things around the campus and in the building that I had never noticed – a ball on top of the arbor, for example.  The seed pods hanging down from the Wisteria.  The metal lights around the court yard. I don’t know exactly when and how our seeing stops, but it does.  We can learn a lot from the observations and noticings of our youth.)  Add to that that when fear is involved, it is even harder to actually see the blessings God surrounds us with. 

               About eleven years ago now my family went through a very challenging time financially.  My husband was out of work and we were trying to support our family of five on my half time pastor salary in San Leandro.  We had bought a new house right before he had lost his job, one with three bedrooms as opposed to the one we had before which had only two bedrooms and was therefore a bit tight for our family of five.  But at the last minute in the sale of our old home, the buyers had pulled out.  As a result, we were paying two mortgages, again in this unbelievably expensive part of the country.  This was right before the housing market crashed.  Add to that that the shower pan in our new bathroom cracked and we had to replace the entire bathroom, with money we just didn’t have.  It was a truly, deeply frightening time.  Because of that, complaining was at the top of my list of daily activities.  Everywhere I looked and each day there was more to complain about.  A child got sick, I left my wallet at the store, Trader Joe's stopped carrying my favorite breakfast cereal – whatever little thing that occurred was just another weight on shoulders that were already carrying far too much.  The main character in the book, Life of Pi said, “When you’ve suffered a great deal in life, each additional pain is both unbearable and trifling”.  I found this to be absolutely true.  It was the little things, the things that I knew were so very small which would send me over the edge during this time.  I simply could not bear anything more because I was deeply frightened.  I was reassured by Biblical passages such as we find in the psalms that allow for us to voice and share with God our complaints, our fears, our concerns, with full knowledge that God does indeed hear them, care about them, want us to talk to God about them; and I took full advantage of that to complain loudly and often, to express my fear and to pray, fervently and often for our house to sell, for my husband to find employment, for us to make it through this financially terrifying time. 

               But as Craig Barnes suggested, looking back, the complaints were all hiding a deeper spiritual issue – and that is that I was living in fear, I was consumed by fear instead of living in faith and trust.  Not that I think God is a magician who takes away all our problems.  Not that I think God micromanages our lives.  I don’t.  We have free will, as do the others around us, and sometimes that means times get hard.  But trust and faith require seeing that each moment, each second, we are surrounded by love, care, presence, that will sustain and carry us and guide us through the hardest times.  Looking back, I can see God’s presence, God’s blessings.  Looking back, now that I am beyond that moment of fear or terror, I can see what I could not see then, that, in so many ways, we in fact were carried through that time.  We had savings that saw us through, and the old house did sell, right before the market crashed.  My husband did find employment right before that savings would have run out.  Yes, we used it all.  But we had it to use.  And we were okay in the end.  I can see, looking back, that we were surrounded also by love and fellowship of people who would have been there for us had things become desperate.  We were held through this time by friends and family who expressed their care in ways both “normal” and amazing.  I’ve shared with you before about that one day in particular when the outpourings of love from the community and from my own family were so deeply amazing that they were nothing short of miraculous.  I won’t share them again, because that one day is not the point.  In looking back, the bigger thing to be seen was that we were cared for daily.  Daily there were overflowing signs of love – from God, from God’s people, a love that has, and continues to sustain us through the hard times because the hard times are always there if we focus on them.  The love, too, is always there to sustain us, if we can just see it when we need it.  Miracles, are all around us, every day, if we allow ourselves to see them, if we can face the spiritual issues such as fear that prevent us from seeing, if we pray and open our eyes to seeing God because God is there, all the time, with blessings in abundance.

               As I was standing in line in the grocery store yesterday,  I overheard someone complaining loudly.  The teller was complaining about her husband, describing him in terms that would make him sound abusive.  But when you really listened to the words, it became clear that what she was actually complaining about was that he didn’t pay for an incredibly expensive luxury for her that she wanted.  Instead, she complained, her son had to do it.  And as I listened, I found myself reflecting again on how much we like to complain and how much we fail to see the beauty and good around us.  There were three different ways she could have told that same story.  In the complaining version, her terrible husband wouldn’t buy her this thing she desperately wanted and so her son had to do it.  In a second version, the husband didn’t pay and the son did – just the facts.  The third version I believe is the way we are called to look at the wonders of life, of God’s presence, of beauty and joy: she had this amazing son who was able to buy even expensive things for her and chose to do so.

               With David’s permission, I want to tell you about a conversation we had yesterday.  A similar situation, but this time about something essential.  David was telling me that he was incredibly lucky and blessed because he had a grandmother who would take money out of her tiny income and buy food for their family.  As many of you know, David grew up extremely poor.  Food could be hard to come by.  They lived from day to day, shoes were a once a year purchase at the thrift store and when they were outgrown, the kids did without.  But David was not focusing on complaining about his childhood, he was focusing on the gift of his grandmother’s help, coming at especially needed times.  He does this with other things too.  He shares with wonder about the church down the street from them that also helped provide food and other essentials.  He describes the care of the community, the wonder of those who held them up.  He does not complain about what his life was like living in that poverty.  He has chosen an outlook of seeing the good, of seeing the Divine, of seeing God.

               How do we describe the events in our lives?  But more deeply, how do we see the events in our lives?  Do we see the gifts and blessings God has given us each and every day?  Or are we so distracted by the things that are hard that we simply cannot see the miracles?

               Connie Schultz wrote that we all have stories of things we can’t explain, wondrous amazing stories that we want to tell but are afraid of being doubted.  Still, they stick with us as signs of something bigger, something that “coincidence” doesn’t quite cover.  She tells her own story this way:

               “Soon after my mother died, I was driving and listening to NPR like I always do when, inexplicably, I reached down and switched the radio station.  “I know you’re watching over me from heaven,” the singer crooned.  Still raw with grief, I sighed and said out loud, “I miss you, Ma.”  Then I looked at the license plate on the car straight ahead: MISS U2.”

               Sr. Joan Chittister once shared this story: Once, the ancients say, a seeker asked a group of disciples: "Does your God work miracles?" And they replied, "It depends on what you call a miracle. Some people say that a miracle is when God does the will of people. We say that a miracle is when people do the will of God."  Sometimes I think the will of God is nothing more than looking and seeing with God’s eyes where love and compassion and grace are all around us, and helping others to see it too.

In today’s passage from Matthew Jesus challenges us to put aside our expectations, our fears, our complaints and to look instead for the good, for God, for God’s love that surrounds us.  But the Good News is that Jesus also knows that isn’t easy for us, this people of God, to always do successfully.  So even after we are scolded for our complaining and scolded for failing to see the miracles that surround us and allow them to change us, deeply, from within, Jesus ends the passage with these words of reassurance, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  When we can’t let go, we can turn to God with our fears, with our complaints, with our burdens.  God wants to hear from us all of what we are feeling, all of what we experience.  We can lay the burdens at Jesus’ feet.  And when we do we will find that God will help us to carry them, God will show us the good that goes alongside our hardships, God will remind us that in every moment there is something both to complain about and something to be thankful for.  God will show us the face of the Divine in those around us, and God will love us into seeing.  Because that’s what God does.  God’s promise is clear: in God’s loving arms, we will find rest.  Amen.