The King of the Castle
Readings: Jeremiah 14:1-22; Psalm 65; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18; Luke 18:9-14
Today’s Gospel reading always reminds me of a childhood game we played at school. It is one of those universal games, but I suspect it got played out in different ways depending on the venue. Our schoolyard had a slope up to the fence along one side, and we children would scramble to be first to the top at which point we would shout as loudly as we could, “I’m the king of the castle and you’re the dirty rascal.”
There are two characters in the story, one a Pharisee, and the other the dreaded tax collector.
The Pharisee is one of the pillars of the Jewish community. He gives generously. He prays and keeps religious observances well beyond what the law requires. You get the impression from his prayer that he is a one-person admiration society. There he is standing at the front of the synagogue where everyone can see him. "How good and pious I am," he thinks to himself. He is wearing long robes. They make him feel very holy. They attract lots of attention. Then he begins his prayer. "God, I thank you that I am not grasping, unjust, adulterous like the rest of humanity," he almost shouts it. Then he catches sight of that loathsome tax collector who has just sneaked as quietly and unobtrusively as possible into the back of the synagogue.
“I thank you especially that I am not like that tax collector over there. I mean, what is he even doing here?” He is confessing everyone else’s sins for them. His prayer is an exercise in unrealized self-congratulation. You get the picture, don't you? Here is a person who is totally satisfied with himself. Truly he does live a good life – upright, moral, pious. And what's more, he knows it. He is the king of the castle, the kid shouting at the top of the hill. Decent, law abiding, self confident, religious! A total success – at least in his own eyes!
Now I do not want to imply that he is not righteous. He deserves to be confident of his relationship with God. But he is confident for all the wrong reasons. “I fast twice a week,” he says. “I give a tenth of my income.” His achievements are not really that notable. Religious Jews paid the temple tax. They went to the temple to pray every day. It was also common for religious Jews to fast twice a week. Fasting is good for the soul. We should all try it more often. It can help clear one’s mind and body. It can help take away what stands between God and us. But it is not something to brag about. It is meant to further one’s spiritual life. The Pharisee has missed out on the true nature of his blessing. He trusts in himself rather than in God.
Then there is the tax collector. On the one hand, he knows that he has done nothing of merit. On the other hand, he has done much to offend the law of Israel. He is a shady character, to put it mildly! He makes his living in a rather underhanded way. He takes a little more than he should. He is grasping and unjust. He is the dirty rascal at the bottom of the hill. The loser. But you know, he has no false illusions. He sees himself pretty much as he is. He knows his failures, his flaws. He sneaks into the synagogue, way at the back where no one will see him. He does nothing to bring attention to himself. He simply cries out to God, "God be merciful to me a sinner."
And surprise! We are told that it is the tax collector, the sinner, the shady character, who went home justified. You see, he came to God in humility and found access to God’s grace. He faced the truth about himself and put his dependence on God’s compassionate mercy.
The Pharisee trusted in his own righteousness and religious achievement. He did all the right things, but he went about it in all the wrong ways. I suspect he was the kind of person who got all hot and bothered about silly little rules, about dotting i’s and crossing t’s. Instead of looking inward to see himself as God saw him, he spent his time tearing others apart. He forgot that his prayer should focus on God. His piety, the very thing that should have brought him closer to God, became for him an insurmountable barrier.
The outcome of the story is that God loved the dirty rascal at the bottom of the hill. God accepted the villain and rejected the saint. God saw the humility of the tax collector and accepted it; God rejected the pride of the Pharisee.
But what about us? About you and me? Do we have a bit of each in us? At the same time we stand with the Pharisee at the front of the temple bragging about our righteousness we stand with the tax collector at the back recognizing our guilt. Who really wants to identify with a self-righteous prig like the Pharisee? But he is faithful and pious. It is just that his way of approaching God is wrong. He lacks humility. But who wants to identify with the tax collector? He is commended for his prayer, but he is so lacking in self-esteem. And Jesus! Jesus stands there and laughs at our sense of ambiguity. Most of us accept that we are sinners, albeit forgiven sinners. We accept that forgiveness is a gift from God, a gift of grace, not earned or deserved, but simply accepted. What we often do not recognize is the cost of that grace.
Finding yourself blessed in life is a matter for gratitude, not for pride. But it is human nature to feel a sense of pride in what we do. We like to think that we have accomplished something in life. Perhaps the balance lies in honing our awareness that we are limited creatures, dependent on the life-sustaining nature of our world, dependent upon one another, above all, dependent upon our creator. That is the kind of attitude that is needed to bring about reform and renewal within the Church. It is the kind of attitude that is needed to bring about the renewal of all of God’s creation.
We live in difficult times. Our indigenous people are hurting. They blame us. Especially the Church! And we are to blame. I must admit that I felt a great deal of ambiguity about my culpability. You see, I taught in a Residential School back in the sixties. I grew up with a rather romantic notion about helping our First Nations people. Each Lent we children would fill our Lent box with its picture of cute little pigtailed “Indian” children with pennies and feel self-righteous about how much good we were doing. I went to Teachers’ College and the romantic notion stayed with me. I applied to Indian Affairs and went to teach in Fort George, Quebec, on the James Bay Coast. The experience remains bitter sweet. I loved the children. I did my best to teach them with limited resources. It was a difficult place for a young, inexperienced teacher. When many years later it began to come out about everything that had gone on in the schools – my principal was charged with sexual abuse from another school – I had to come to terms with the fact that no matter how well intentioned I was, I along with every Canadian bear the blame. I have become an Ambassador for the National Church and continue in the reconciliation process that we all need to undergo if wrongs are to be righted.
Then I think about Greta Thunberg and her mission to change the world. What she says about climate change is humbling. As she blamed adults for what the world faces through climate change, I found myself saying, but ... You know, but I recycle. But I am not wasteful. But I walk instead of driving. But I use reusable bags instead of plastic. As long as any of us says “but”, nothing changes. We continue in our self-righteous protestations, and the problem continues.
I don’t want to be the king of the castle. I don’t want to be the dirty rascal. What is the answer? It lies in the good news that God loves us. Our creator God looks down on us and calls us into right relationship with God and creation. I can only believe that the answer lies in that right relationship, in reaching out to God in prayer; in praying for a world that is crying out in pain; in praying that we will be people who strive for justice; in changing our attitudes and acting without saying but; in doing what God is calling us to do. Amen.
Showing posts with label Proper 30. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Proper 30. Show all posts
Saturday, October 26, 2019
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 30, Year A
Doin’ the Lovin’ T’ing
Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46
While I was studying at Trinity we had a professor of Ethics, Romney Mosley, who in his West Indian accent, reminded us constantly that ethics was about “doin’ the lovin’ t’ing!” That is certainly the theme of the Gospel for today. It is also a wonderful reminder as we deal with the events of this past week that saw the tragic death of two Canadian soldiers.
They are out to trap Jesus again. This time it is a lawyer who asks, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus turns the trap into a teaching opportunity by reminding him of the two great commandments, to love God and to love neighbour.
Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, our love of God cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.
When asked, "What is the most important commandment?" Jesus did not have to think about it. And for someone of the Jewish faith, that is no small feat. There were over six hundred laws to keep. Yet Jesus’ immediate response was that it was to love God with all your heart. He went on to add that you must love your neighbour as yourself. He knew it is not a question of how to accomplish such love; the real question is why. The answer is that it is because we are in this creation all together. We as well as our neighbour are the dwelling place of God. We may not feel God's presence all the time, but that does not mean God is not with us. Our neighbour may not feel God's presence, but that does not mean that he or she is not carried by God's love. We belong together, God, you and I. When we are one, we can see God and Christ in everyone. We ourselves are then in the heart of everyone. What we do for another is done to ourselves. When another is hurt, we are hurt. Our heart is not limited to the size of the one in our chest, after all; it is as large as God's heart. The more you love yourself, the more you see who you are, the more Jesus' directive to love neighbour as self, to do the loving thing, will become a blessing for all humanity.
All of this requires having a good theology about love. In his book “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” Stephen Covey writes the following about love.
“In the great literature of all progressive societies, love is a verb. Reactive people make it a feeling. They’re driven by feelings. Hollywood has generally scripted us to believe that we are not responsible, that we are a product of our feelings. But the Hollywood script does not describe the reality. If our feelings control our actions, it is because we have abdicated our responsibility and empowered them to do so.”
“Proactive people make love a verb. Love is something you do: the sacrifices you make, the giving of self, like a mother bringing a newborn into the world. If you want to study love, study those who sacrifice for others, even for people who offend or do not love in return. If you are a parent, look at the love you have for the children you sacrificed for. Love is a value that is actualized through loving actions. Proactive people subordinate feelings to values. Love, the feeling, can be recaptured.”
His thoughts about love have so much to say to us about the call to love God and to love neighbour. For the great commandment is a call to proactive love. It is a call to recognize that love is more than Hollywood romanticism. Love needs to reflect the love of God. God loves neighbour, us, as God loves self. It is not we who love God first, but God who loves us, who creates us, who sanctifies us. All of us!
The most proactive love, it seems to me, is that which results in forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who worked in the Resistance and was sent along with her family to the infamous concentration camp at Ravensbrook, went on to tell her story and to bring a spirit of reconciliation to her people. In one of her books she recounts an encounter after the liberation with a particularly cruel guard. She was speaking about forgiveness at a Mission. She was shocked as she recognized the former guard in the congregation. Later he came back to speak to her. It was obvious from the conversation that he did not recognize her. However, he told her that he had been a guard at Ravensbrook. He asked her forgiveness for all that had happened. He held out his hand to her. It took every ounce of courage for her to take his hand, as she remembered the death of her sister Betsie, just a few days before they were freed. But somehow God gave her the courage to forgive, and it truly liberated her. That is real love of neighbour. That is the love that God shows us in giving us Jesus. That is the Gospel in action.
Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition, there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to truly give thanks.
We can put that Gospel into action every day of our lives. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words. It calls us to share ourselves.
William Blake, an painter, printmaker and poet of the 19th Century, wrote the following:
“I sought my soul,
And the soul I would not see,
I sought my God,
And God eluded me,
I sought my neighbour,
And I found all three.”
"We are determined," Paul says "to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us." It is easy as Christians to be in the business of getting things organized, of busily doing good, and of sharing tasks. To share ourselves is harder. Yet that is the Gospel call. That is the loving thing to do.
This past week has been a difficult one for us as Canadians. We have experienced the shock of a misguided person attacking the very fibre of our society. We have awakened to the sad reality that we too are prone to attack, even in our Nation’s capital. It has, once again, caused suspicion of people of the Moslem faith. It has caused backlash to people who were not responsible for what happened. Such events bring out the worst in people, but they also bring out the best, as the community comes together to do the loving thing. Let it be so in our communities of faith, but especially in our hearts. The great commandment is a call to participate in a community where we always do the loving thing.
Open our hearts, God, that we may follow the example of your Son, our Saviour, and bring love to a world in need of redemption.
Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46
While I was studying at Trinity we had a professor of Ethics, Romney Mosley, who in his West Indian accent, reminded us constantly that ethics was about “doin’ the lovin’ t’ing!” That is certainly the theme of the Gospel for today. It is also a wonderful reminder as we deal with the events of this past week that saw the tragic death of two Canadian soldiers.
They are out to trap Jesus again. This time it is a lawyer who asks, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus turns the trap into a teaching opportunity by reminding him of the two great commandments, to love God and to love neighbour.
Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, our love of God cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.
When asked, "What is the most important commandment?" Jesus did not have to think about it. And for someone of the Jewish faith, that is no small feat. There were over six hundred laws to keep. Yet Jesus’ immediate response was that it was to love God with all your heart. He went on to add that you must love your neighbour as yourself. He knew it is not a question of how to accomplish such love; the real question is why. The answer is that it is because we are in this creation all together. We as well as our neighbour are the dwelling place of God. We may not feel God's presence all the time, but that does not mean God is not with us. Our neighbour may not feel God's presence, but that does not mean that he or she is not carried by God's love. We belong together, God, you and I. When we are one, we can see God and Christ in everyone. We ourselves are then in the heart of everyone. What we do for another is done to ourselves. When another is hurt, we are hurt. Our heart is not limited to the size of the one in our chest, after all; it is as large as God's heart. The more you love yourself, the more you see who you are, the more Jesus' directive to love neighbour as self, to do the loving thing, will become a blessing for all humanity.
All of this requires having a good theology about love. In his book “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” Stephen Covey writes the following about love.
“In the great literature of all progressive societies, love is a verb. Reactive people make it a feeling. They’re driven by feelings. Hollywood has generally scripted us to believe that we are not responsible, that we are a product of our feelings. But the Hollywood script does not describe the reality. If our feelings control our actions, it is because we have abdicated our responsibility and empowered them to do so.”
“Proactive people make love a verb. Love is something you do: the sacrifices you make, the giving of self, like a mother bringing a newborn into the world. If you want to study love, study those who sacrifice for others, even for people who offend or do not love in return. If you are a parent, look at the love you have for the children you sacrificed for. Love is a value that is actualized through loving actions. Proactive people subordinate feelings to values. Love, the feeling, can be recaptured.”
His thoughts about love have so much to say to us about the call to love God and to love neighbour. For the great commandment is a call to proactive love. It is a call to recognize that love is more than Hollywood romanticism. Love needs to reflect the love of God. God loves neighbour, us, as God loves self. It is not we who love God first, but God who loves us, who creates us, who sanctifies us. All of us!
The most proactive love, it seems to me, is that which results in forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who worked in the Resistance and was sent along with her family to the infamous concentration camp at Ravensbrook, went on to tell her story and to bring a spirit of reconciliation to her people. In one of her books she recounts an encounter after the liberation with a particularly cruel guard. She was speaking about forgiveness at a Mission. She was shocked as she recognized the former guard in the congregation. Later he came back to speak to her. It was obvious from the conversation that he did not recognize her. However, he told her that he had been a guard at Ravensbrook. He asked her forgiveness for all that had happened. He held out his hand to her. It took every ounce of courage for her to take his hand, as she remembered the death of her sister Betsie, just a few days before they were freed. But somehow God gave her the courage to forgive, and it truly liberated her. That is real love of neighbour. That is the love that God shows us in giving us Jesus. That is the Gospel in action.
Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition, there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to truly give thanks.
We can put that Gospel into action every day of our lives. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words. It calls us to share ourselves.
William Blake, an painter, printmaker and poet of the 19th Century, wrote the following:
“I sought my soul,
And the soul I would not see,
I sought my God,
And God eluded me,
I sought my neighbour,
And I found all three.”
"We are determined," Paul says "to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us." It is easy as Christians to be in the business of getting things organized, of busily doing good, and of sharing tasks. To share ourselves is harder. Yet that is the Gospel call. That is the loving thing to do.
This past week has been a difficult one for us as Canadians. We have experienced the shock of a misguided person attacking the very fibre of our society. We have awakened to the sad reality that we too are prone to attack, even in our Nation’s capital. It has, once again, caused suspicion of people of the Moslem faith. It has caused backlash to people who were not responsible for what happened. Such events bring out the worst in people, but they also bring out the best, as the community comes together to do the loving thing. Let it be so in our communities of faith, but especially in our hearts. The great commandment is a call to participate in a community where we always do the loving thing.
Open our hearts, God, that we may follow the example of your Son, our Saviour, and bring love to a world in need of redemption.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Proper 30, Year B
With Eyes Wide Open
Readings: Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52
It is said that when you lose one sense the other senses are heightened. Those who are blind begin to see in other ways. Most of us who are sighted fail to see even what is right before our eyes. We may see, but we don’t perceive.
An elderly woman got on a plane one day. As the stewardess helped her to her seat she kept thinking, “As if I’m not busy enough! Now I’ll have to spend the whole trip helping her.” The businessman seated beside her noticed her wallet bulging with pictures. “She’ll be talking incessantly about her grandchildren,” he thought to himself as he pulled out his paper. The teenager in the window seat put on his earphones and ignored her completely. They all picked up their luggage and walked out into the lounge. There was a huge crowd gathered to greet the old woman.
“What an honour it is for us to have an artist like you visiting us.”
The disciples often had trouble with their perception. James and John, for example, had a problem with seeing. They spent three years with Jesus and still didn’t really understand who he was.
But an old blind beggar had no trouble seeing. He knew everyone who passed by his stretch of road on the outskirts of Jericho. He heard their feet shuffling along in the dust. He heard the sighs of relief as they drank deeply of the cool water from the well.
As certain people approached, his hand automatically stretched out in anticipation for the coin that would be dropped into his palm.
As others came by he shrank into his cloak. He heard stories that stirred a deep longing within him. Stories of a miracle worker! A healer! So even in the midst of the crowds heading toward the oasis he recognized Jesus and his disciples as they came down the road. He began to call out, “Have mercy on me."
"Be quiet!" Others on the road ordered. But it did no good. He just shouted louder. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Jesus stopped. "Call him here," he said to them. Bartimaeus did not need any further invitation. He threw off his cloak and sprang to his feet.
"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him.
He had been waiting all of his life for someone to ask that question. He knew exactly what to ask for. He was desperately in need. He had lost everything, even his name.
Son of Timaeus, they called him. Those around him had pity – enough perhaps to throw him a few coins to keep him quiet; but underneath it all, he knew that they blamed him for his troubles. But this was Jesus. The miracle worker! Standing before him. Here was the one who could lift his life out of defeat. It was his one chance. And he seized the opportunity.
"My teacher, let me see again."
And Jesus said to him, "Go. Your faith has made you well."
He could see. He became whole. He followed Jesus. A healing took place that day. A deep healing! But far more than that, a transformation! Bartimaeus followed Jesus. He became a disciple.
Job too lost everything. All he can do is to cry out to God in his need and hope that God will hear and respond. God’s answer is that of a parent. God cannot make the hurt go away. But God can offer a hug. A hug makes it possible to bear any amount of suffering. It transforms Job.
“Before, I knew you only by hearsay,” he says to God, “but now, having seen with my eyes, I retract what I have said, and repent in dust and ashes.”
He sees God’s glory. He understands the meaning of his suffering. He knows the compassion of God. He knows that God walks with us.
“What do you want me to do for you?” God asks us on our faith journey. “What do you need? Do you have a longing in your life that just does not seem to be satisfied? Do you dare to ask me to respond to that longing? Can you name your need?” We all come to God with different needs. It may be a need born of desperation. It may be a sudden awareness of our neediness and an equally sudden response to God. It may be a gradual approach, tentative at first and then growing. We may still be searching for what it all means.
That question, "What do you want me to do for you?" is the central drama in the Christian life. We each respond in our own way. And as long as it is central in our lives, then the church lives. It is the root of our Christian vision. It includes all of us; rich and poor, blind and sighted, powerful and weak.
Naming our need is so important. It is the reason why twelve step programs work. The first step is to name the problem. “My name is … and I am an alcoholic.” Until they are able to take the beginning step, there is no recovery.
Victims of abuse need to name their experience. It is freeing to tell your story and be believed. The greatest affirmation any victim can receive is to be asked as Jesus asked Bartimaeus, “What do you need?” It can be the beginning of healing. It can do far more than any amount of compensation.
Coming to faith is a similar process. But it is a process which is different for each of us, for each of us comes with different needs. What is coming to faith like for you? And I say, "is it like", for it is an ongoing process. It is a journey which continues throughout our lives. For some people, it is a desperate attempt like that of Bartimaeus. There is a sudden awareness of need and an equally sudden response to God. For others the approach is gradual, tentative at first, and then growing. Perhaps some of us are still searching for what it means to be a Christian. Perhaps we are here searching for the beginning of faith.
Whatever the process is for us, hearing Jesus’ question , "What do you want me to do for you?" is the central drama in the Christian life. Each of us needs to respond in our own way. And as long as it is central in our lives, then the church lives. It is the root of the Christian's vision, for it includes the vulnerable of society, the weak, the needy, the marginalized. It has the capability of opening every one of us to God's transforming grace.
We saw it in South Africa as Desmond Tutu spoke the prophetic word about the sweetness of liberation. He firmly believes that liberation, the end of Apartheid, came about through God’s faithful people and their vision of what that blinded society should be like, and who were unwilling to give up that vision. He saw it as an expression of the faith and prayers of Christians throughout the world. And I believe along with him that our prayers were effective.
Do we have a vision for our church and for our society? What is the answer to what many say is the post Christian era? What is the answer to the violence in our society? How do we reach out to people who may never have had any contact with the Christian faith? How do we make our church open and accessible for those who may never have been in a church? How do we help our young people live a Christian life in a system that often reacts in embarrassment at the mere mention of Christian faith?
The end to such blindness begins with our personal affirmation, with our commitment to the life of faith, with our naming and recognizing our need. It continues with our prayer of faith. It is our personal life of faith that gives us a vision for all of creation. As long as that is central the church lives. If Jesus can heal a blind man, he can heal a blind society. He can heal a disintegrating civilization. Through unexpected sources; in unexpected ways; through our vision; through our reaching out to those in need; through our commitment to the gospel; through us, the faithful servants of God.
Open our eyes, Lord. We want to see Jesus.
Readings: Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52
It is said that when you lose one sense the other senses are heightened. Those who are blind begin to see in other ways. Most of us who are sighted fail to see even what is right before our eyes. We may see, but we don’t perceive.
An elderly woman got on a plane one day. As the stewardess helped her to her seat she kept thinking, “As if I’m not busy enough! Now I’ll have to spend the whole trip helping her.” The businessman seated beside her noticed her wallet bulging with pictures. “She’ll be talking incessantly about her grandchildren,” he thought to himself as he pulled out his paper. The teenager in the window seat put on his earphones and ignored her completely. They all picked up their luggage and walked out into the lounge. There was a huge crowd gathered to greet the old woman.
“What an honour it is for us to have an artist like you visiting us.”
The disciples often had trouble with their perception. James and John, for example, had a problem with seeing. They spent three years with Jesus and still didn’t really understand who he was.
But an old blind beggar had no trouble seeing. He knew everyone who passed by his stretch of road on the outskirts of Jericho. He heard their feet shuffling along in the dust. He heard the sighs of relief as they drank deeply of the cool water from the well.
As certain people approached, his hand automatically stretched out in anticipation for the coin that would be dropped into his palm.
As others came by he shrank into his cloak. He heard stories that stirred a deep longing within him. Stories of a miracle worker! A healer! So even in the midst of the crowds heading toward the oasis he recognized Jesus and his disciples as they came down the road. He began to call out, “Have mercy on me."
"Be quiet!" Others on the road ordered. But it did no good. He just shouted louder. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Jesus stopped. "Call him here," he said to them. Bartimaeus did not need any further invitation. He threw off his cloak and sprang to his feet.
"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him.
He had been waiting all of his life for someone to ask that question. He knew exactly what to ask for. He was desperately in need. He had lost everything, even his name.
Son of Timaeus, they called him. Those around him had pity – enough perhaps to throw him a few coins to keep him quiet; but underneath it all, he knew that they blamed him for his troubles. But this was Jesus. The miracle worker! Standing before him. Here was the one who could lift his life out of defeat. It was his one chance. And he seized the opportunity.
"My teacher, let me see again."
And Jesus said to him, "Go. Your faith has made you well."
He could see. He became whole. He followed Jesus. A healing took place that day. A deep healing! But far more than that, a transformation! Bartimaeus followed Jesus. He became a disciple.
Job too lost everything. All he can do is to cry out to God in his need and hope that God will hear and respond. God’s answer is that of a parent. God cannot make the hurt go away. But God can offer a hug. A hug makes it possible to bear any amount of suffering. It transforms Job.
“Before, I knew you only by hearsay,” he says to God, “but now, having seen with my eyes, I retract what I have said, and repent in dust and ashes.”
He sees God’s glory. He understands the meaning of his suffering. He knows the compassion of God. He knows that God walks with us.
“What do you want me to do for you?” God asks us on our faith journey. “What do you need? Do you have a longing in your life that just does not seem to be satisfied? Do you dare to ask me to respond to that longing? Can you name your need?” We all come to God with different needs. It may be a need born of desperation. It may be a sudden awareness of our neediness and an equally sudden response to God. It may be a gradual approach, tentative at first and then growing. We may still be searching for what it all means.
That question, "What do you want me to do for you?" is the central drama in the Christian life. We each respond in our own way. And as long as it is central in our lives, then the church lives. It is the root of our Christian vision. It includes all of us; rich and poor, blind and sighted, powerful and weak.
Naming our need is so important. It is the reason why twelve step programs work. The first step is to name the problem. “My name is … and I am an alcoholic.” Until they are able to take the beginning step, there is no recovery.
Victims of abuse need to name their experience. It is freeing to tell your story and be believed. The greatest affirmation any victim can receive is to be asked as Jesus asked Bartimaeus, “What do you need?” It can be the beginning of healing. It can do far more than any amount of compensation.
Coming to faith is a similar process. But it is a process which is different for each of us, for each of us comes with different needs. What is coming to faith like for you? And I say, "is it like", for it is an ongoing process. It is a journey which continues throughout our lives. For some people, it is a desperate attempt like that of Bartimaeus. There is a sudden awareness of need and an equally sudden response to God. For others the approach is gradual, tentative at first, and then growing. Perhaps some of us are still searching for what it means to be a Christian. Perhaps we are here searching for the beginning of faith.
Whatever the process is for us, hearing Jesus’ question , "What do you want me to do for you?" is the central drama in the Christian life. Each of us needs to respond in our own way. And as long as it is central in our lives, then the church lives. It is the root of the Christian's vision, for it includes the vulnerable of society, the weak, the needy, the marginalized. It has the capability of opening every one of us to God's transforming grace.
We saw it in South Africa as Desmond Tutu spoke the prophetic word about the sweetness of liberation. He firmly believes that liberation, the end of Apartheid, came about through God’s faithful people and their vision of what that blinded society should be like, and who were unwilling to give up that vision. He saw it as an expression of the faith and prayers of Christians throughout the world. And I believe along with him that our prayers were effective.
Do we have a vision for our church and for our society? What is the answer to what many say is the post Christian era? What is the answer to the violence in our society? How do we reach out to people who may never have had any contact with the Christian faith? How do we make our church open and accessible for those who may never have been in a church? How do we help our young people live a Christian life in a system that often reacts in embarrassment at the mere mention of Christian faith?
The end to such blindness begins with our personal affirmation, with our commitment to the life of faith, with our naming and recognizing our need. It continues with our prayer of faith. It is our personal life of faith that gives us a vision for all of creation. As long as that is central the church lives. If Jesus can heal a blind man, he can heal a blind society. He can heal a disintegrating civilization. Through unexpected sources; in unexpected ways; through our vision; through our reaching out to those in need; through our commitment to the gospel; through us, the faithful servants of God.
Open our eyes, Lord. We want to see Jesus.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Proper 30, Year A
I am preaching at St. Mark's in Port Hope this Sunday.
Proactive Love
Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46
They are out to trap Jesus again. This time it is a lawyer who asks, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus turns the trap into a teaching opportunity by reminding him of the two great commandments, to love God and to love neighbour.
Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, that cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.
When asked, "What is the most important commandment?" Jesus did not have to think about it. His immediate response was that it was to love God with all your heart. He went on to add that you must love your neighbour as yourself. He knew it was not a question of how to accomplish such love; the real question is why. The answer is that it is because we are in this creation all together. We as well as our neighbour are the dwelling place of God. We may not feel God's presence all the time, but that does not mean God is not with us. Our neighbour may not feel God's presence, but that does not mean that he or she is not carried by God's love. We belong together, God, you and I. When we are one, we can see God and Christ in everyone. We ourselves are then in the heart of everyone. What we do for another is done to ourselves. When another is hurt, we are hurt. Our heart is not limited to the size of the one in our chest, after all; it is as large as God's heart. The more you love yourself, the more you see who you are, the more Jesus' directive to love neighbour as self, to do the loving thing, will become a blessing for all humanity.
All of this requires having a good theology about love. In his book “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” Stephen Covey writes the following about love.
“In the great literature of all progressive societies, love is a verb. Reactive people make it a feeling. They’re driven by feelings. Hollywood has generally scripted us to believe that we are not responsible, that we are a product of our feelings. But the Hollywood script does not describe the reality. If our feelings control our actions, it is because we have abdicated our responsibility and empowered them to do so.”
“Proactive people make love a verb. Love is something you do: the sacrifices you make, the giving of self, like a mother bringing a newborn into the world. If you want to study love, study those who sacrifice for others, even for people who offend or do not love in return. If you are a parent, look at the love you have for the children you sacrificed for. Love is a value that is actualized through loving actions. Proactive people subordinate feelings to values. Love, the feeling, can be recaptured.”
His thoughts about love have so much to say to us about the call to love God and to love neighbour. For the great commandment is a call to proactive love. It is a call to recognize that love is more than Hollywood romanticism. Love needs to reflect the love of God. God loves neighbour, us, as God loves self. It is not we who love God first, but God who loves us, who creates us, who sanctifies us.
The most proactive love, it seems to me, is that which results in forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who worked in the Resistance and was sent along with her family to the infamous concentration camp at Ravensbrook, went on to tell her story and to bring a spirit of reconciliation to her people. In one of her books she recounts an encounter after the liberation with a particularly cruel guard. She was speaking about forgiveness at a Mission. She was shocked as she recognized the former guard in the congregation. Later he came back to speak to her. It was obvious from the conversation that he did not recognize her. However, he told her that he had been a guard at Ravensbrook. He asked her forgiveness for all that had happened. He held out his hand to her. It took every ounce of courage for her to take his hand, as she remembered the death of her sister Betsie, just a few days before they were freed. But somehow God gave her the courage to forgive, and it truly liberated her. That is real love of neighbour. That is the love that God shows us in giving us Jesus. That is the Gospel in action.
Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition, there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to truly give thanks.
We can put that Gospel into action every day of our lives. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words.
"We are determined," Paul says "to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us." It is easy as Christians to be in the business of getting things organized, of busily doing good, and of sharing tasks. To share ourselves is harder. Yet that is the Gospel call. That is the loving thing to do.
The wonderful thing about good ministry is that you know when you have done it. We may see it as a tragedy that Moses did not reach the Promised Land. But Moses did good ministry. Moses is the one who stood before God and said "Not me! Get someone else to do it. I'm no speaker. People won't listen to me. Aaron will do a better job." He is also the one who is remembered as the greatest of the prophets, as more than a prophet – as priest, ruler and judge, as interpreter of the will of God.
Paul may have become discouraged by the lack of response he received in delivering the Gospel message. But he saw the loving actions of the people of Thessalonica. He saw their sense of commitment. He saw them as they shared in the Gospel message even when there were differences of opinion. You see, doing ministry, really doing it, really sharing ourselves, brings us into the very presence of God. It opens up a channel into the kingdom that is totally unmistakable. And it is as simple as remembering that Jesus loves me. Amen.
Proactive Love
Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46
They are out to trap Jesus again. This time it is a lawyer who asks, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus turns the trap into a teaching opportunity by reminding him of the two great commandments, to love God and to love neighbour.
Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, that cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.
When asked, "What is the most important commandment?" Jesus did not have to think about it. His immediate response was that it was to love God with all your heart. He went on to add that you must love your neighbour as yourself. He knew it was not a question of how to accomplish such love; the real question is why. The answer is that it is because we are in this creation all together. We as well as our neighbour are the dwelling place of God. We may not feel God's presence all the time, but that does not mean God is not with us. Our neighbour may not feel God's presence, but that does not mean that he or she is not carried by God's love. We belong together, God, you and I. When we are one, we can see God and Christ in everyone. We ourselves are then in the heart of everyone. What we do for another is done to ourselves. When another is hurt, we are hurt. Our heart is not limited to the size of the one in our chest, after all; it is as large as God's heart. The more you love yourself, the more you see who you are, the more Jesus' directive to love neighbour as self, to do the loving thing, will become a blessing for all humanity.
All of this requires having a good theology about love. In his book “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” Stephen Covey writes the following about love.
“In the great literature of all progressive societies, love is a verb. Reactive people make it a feeling. They’re driven by feelings. Hollywood has generally scripted us to believe that we are not responsible, that we are a product of our feelings. But the Hollywood script does not describe the reality. If our feelings control our actions, it is because we have abdicated our responsibility and empowered them to do so.”
“Proactive people make love a verb. Love is something you do: the sacrifices you make, the giving of self, like a mother bringing a newborn into the world. If you want to study love, study those who sacrifice for others, even for people who offend or do not love in return. If you are a parent, look at the love you have for the children you sacrificed for. Love is a value that is actualized through loving actions. Proactive people subordinate feelings to values. Love, the feeling, can be recaptured.”
His thoughts about love have so much to say to us about the call to love God and to love neighbour. For the great commandment is a call to proactive love. It is a call to recognize that love is more than Hollywood romanticism. Love needs to reflect the love of God. God loves neighbour, us, as God loves self. It is not we who love God first, but God who loves us, who creates us, who sanctifies us.
The most proactive love, it seems to me, is that which results in forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who worked in the Resistance and was sent along with her family to the infamous concentration camp at Ravensbrook, went on to tell her story and to bring a spirit of reconciliation to her people. In one of her books she recounts an encounter after the liberation with a particularly cruel guard. She was speaking about forgiveness at a Mission. She was shocked as she recognized the former guard in the congregation. Later he came back to speak to her. It was obvious from the conversation that he did not recognize her. However, he told her that he had been a guard at Ravensbrook. He asked her forgiveness for all that had happened. He held out his hand to her. It took every ounce of courage for her to take his hand, as she remembered the death of her sister Betsie, just a few days before they were freed. But somehow God gave her the courage to forgive, and it truly liberated her. That is real love of neighbour. That is the love that God shows us in giving us Jesus. That is the Gospel in action.
Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition, there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to truly give thanks.
We can put that Gospel into action every day of our lives. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words.
"We are determined," Paul says "to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us." It is easy as Christians to be in the business of getting things organized, of busily doing good, and of sharing tasks. To share ourselves is harder. Yet that is the Gospel call. That is the loving thing to do.
The wonderful thing about good ministry is that you know when you have done it. We may see it as a tragedy that Moses did not reach the Promised Land. But Moses did good ministry. Moses is the one who stood before God and said "Not me! Get someone else to do it. I'm no speaker. People won't listen to me. Aaron will do a better job." He is also the one who is remembered as the greatest of the prophets, as more than a prophet – as priest, ruler and judge, as interpreter of the will of God.
Paul may have become discouraged by the lack of response he received in delivering the Gospel message. But he saw the loving actions of the people of Thessalonica. He saw their sense of commitment. He saw them as they shared in the Gospel message even when there were differences of opinion. You see, doing ministry, really doing it, really sharing ourselves, brings us into the very presence of God. It opens up a channel into the kingdom that is totally unmistakable. And it is as simple as remembering that Jesus loves me. Amen.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Proper 30, Year B
What Do You Want Me to Do For You?
Readings: Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52
It is said that when you lose one sense the other senses are heightened. Those who are blind begin to see in other ways. I certainly noticed that in Jewel, my dog who was blind. It was amazing to see how well she could navigate without being able to see. Most of us who are sighted fail to see even what is right before our eyes. We may see, but we don’t perceive. Or we see what we want to see.
An elderly woman boarded a plane one day. As the stewardess helped her to her seat she kept thinking, “As if I’m not busy enough! Now I’ll have to spend the whole trip helping her.” The businessman seated beside her noticed her wallet bulging with pictures. “She’ll be talking incessantly about her grandchildren,” he thought to himself as he pulled out his paper. The teenager in the window seat put on his earphones and ignored her completely. Following the flight, they all picked up their luggage and walked out into the lounge. There was a huge crowd gathered to greet the old woman. “What an honour it is for us to have an artist like you visiting us.”
The disciples often had trouble with their perception. James and John, for example, had a problem with seeing. They spent three years with Jesus and still didn’t really understand who he was.
On the other hand, an old blind beggar had no trouble seeing at all. He knew everyone who passed by his stretch of road on the outskirts of Jericho. He heard their feet shuffling along in the dust. He heard the sighs of relief as they drank deeply of the cool water from the well. As certain people approached his hand automatically stretched out in anticipation for the coin that would be dropped into his palm. As others came by he shrank into his cloak.
He heard stories that stirred a deep longing within him. Stories of a miracle worker! A healer! So even in the midst of the crowds heading toward the oasis he recognized Jesus and his disciples as they came down the road. He began to call out, “Have mercy on me."
"Be quiet!" Others on the road ordered. But it did no good. He just shouted louder. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Jesus stopped when he heard the man's plea. "Call him here," he said to them. Bartimaeus did not need any further invitation. He threw off his cloak and sprang to his feet.
"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked hiim. He had been waiting all of his life for someone to ask that question. He knew exactly what to ask for. He was desperately in need. He had lost everything, even his name. Son of Timaeus, they called him. Those around him had compassion on him in a way. They often threw him a few coins to keep him quiet; but underneath it all, he knew that they blamed him for his troubles. But this was Jesus. The miracle worker! Standing before him. Here was the one who could lift his life out of defeat. It was his one chance. And he seized the opportunity. He asked for healing, "My teacher, let me see again."
And Jesus said to him, "Go. Your faith has made you well." He could see. He became whole. He followed Jesus. A healing took place that day. A deep healing! But far more than that, a transformation! Bartimaeus began to follow Jesus. He became a disciple.
Job's story is similar, for Job too lost everything. All he could do was to cry out to God in his need and hope that God would hear and respond. God’s answer was like that of a loving parent. God could not make the hurt go away. But God could offer a hug. A hug made it possible to bear any amount of suffering. It transformed Job. “Before, I knew you only by hearsay,” he said to God, “but now, having seen with my eyes, I retract what I have said, and repent in dust and ashes.” He witnessed God’s glory. He understood the meaning of his suffering. He felt the compassion of God. He experienced God walking with him.
“What do you want me to do for you?” God asks us on our faith journey. “What do you need? Do you have a longing in your life that just does not seem to be satisfied? Do you dare to ask me to respond to that longing? Can you name your need?” We all come to God with different needs. It may be a need born of desperation. It may be a sudden awareness of our neediness and an equally sudden response to God. It may be a gradual approach, tentative at first and then growing. We may still be searching for what it all means.
That question, "What do you want me to do for you?" is the central drama in our Christian life. We each respond in our own way. And as long as it is central in our lives, then the church lives. It is the root of our Christian vision. It includes all of us; rich and poor, blind and sighted, powerful and weak.
Naming our need is so important. It is the reason why twelve step programs work. The first step is to name the problem. “My name is … and I am an alcoholic.” Until they are able to take the beginning step, there is no recovery.
Victims of abuse too need to name their experience. It is freeing to tell your story and be believed. The greatest affirmation any victim can receive is to be asked as Jesus asked Bartimaeus, “What do you need?” It can be the beginning of healing. It can do far more than any amount of compensation.
Over the years, our aboriginal people have articulated their need for the Church to make amends for the years of abuse they endured. When Michael Peers, the then Primate gave an apology on behalf of the Anglican Church it was a significant step in healing the blindness of centuries of abuse. “I accept,” he said, “and I confess before God and you, our failures in the residential schools. We failed you. We failed ourselves. We failed God.” It was a beginning that is transforming the life of the Church. That work goes on through our National Church still as we hear and respond to the stories of abuse.
That hope springs from the experience of South Africa since the end of apartheid. Desmond Tutu’s prophetic voice speaks profoundly about the sweetness of liberation. He firmly believes that liberation came about through God’s faithful people who had a vision of what that blinded society should be like, and who were unwilling to give up that vision. He saw it as an expression of the faith and prayers of Christians throughout the world.
And somewhere along the way we need to turn that question around. We need to say to God, “What do you need from me?” We need to commit ourselves to God, responding to God's call. It is a question that we need to ask on a personal level, but also as a community of faith. Do we have a vision for our church and for our society? What is the answer to what many say is the post Christian era? What is the answer to the violence in our society? How do we reach out to people who may never have had any contact with the Christian faith? How do we make our church "user friendly" for those who may never have been in a church? How do we help our young people live a Christian life in a system that often reacts in embarrassment at the mere mention of the Christian faith?
It is about opening our blind eyes. It is about seeing and perceiving. It begins with recognizing our own need. It continues with our prayer of faith that gives us a vision for all of creation. As long as that is central the Church lives. Jesus can heal a blind society. He can heal a disintegrating civilization. Through our vision, through our reaching out to those in need, through our commitment to the gospel, through our eyes. Open our eyes, Lord. We want to see Jesus.
Readings: Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52
It is said that when you lose one sense the other senses are heightened. Those who are blind begin to see in other ways. I certainly noticed that in Jewel, my dog who was blind. It was amazing to see how well she could navigate without being able to see. Most of us who are sighted fail to see even what is right before our eyes. We may see, but we don’t perceive. Or we see what we want to see.
An elderly woman boarded a plane one day. As the stewardess helped her to her seat she kept thinking, “As if I’m not busy enough! Now I’ll have to spend the whole trip helping her.” The businessman seated beside her noticed her wallet bulging with pictures. “She’ll be talking incessantly about her grandchildren,” he thought to himself as he pulled out his paper. The teenager in the window seat put on his earphones and ignored her completely. Following the flight, they all picked up their luggage and walked out into the lounge. There was a huge crowd gathered to greet the old woman. “What an honour it is for us to have an artist like you visiting us.”
The disciples often had trouble with their perception. James and John, for example, had a problem with seeing. They spent three years with Jesus and still didn’t really understand who he was.
On the other hand, an old blind beggar had no trouble seeing at all. He knew everyone who passed by his stretch of road on the outskirts of Jericho. He heard their feet shuffling along in the dust. He heard the sighs of relief as they drank deeply of the cool water from the well. As certain people approached his hand automatically stretched out in anticipation for the coin that would be dropped into his palm. As others came by he shrank into his cloak.
He heard stories that stirred a deep longing within him. Stories of a miracle worker! A healer! So even in the midst of the crowds heading toward the oasis he recognized Jesus and his disciples as they came down the road. He began to call out, “Have mercy on me."
"Be quiet!" Others on the road ordered. But it did no good. He just shouted louder. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Jesus stopped when he heard the man's plea. "Call him here," he said to them. Bartimaeus did not need any further invitation. He threw off his cloak and sprang to his feet.
"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked hiim. He had been waiting all of his life for someone to ask that question. He knew exactly what to ask for. He was desperately in need. He had lost everything, even his name. Son of Timaeus, they called him. Those around him had compassion on him in a way. They often threw him a few coins to keep him quiet; but underneath it all, he knew that they blamed him for his troubles. But this was Jesus. The miracle worker! Standing before him. Here was the one who could lift his life out of defeat. It was his one chance. And he seized the opportunity. He asked for healing, "My teacher, let me see again."
And Jesus said to him, "Go. Your faith has made you well." He could see. He became whole. He followed Jesus. A healing took place that day. A deep healing! But far more than that, a transformation! Bartimaeus began to follow Jesus. He became a disciple.
Job's story is similar, for Job too lost everything. All he could do was to cry out to God in his need and hope that God would hear and respond. God’s answer was like that of a loving parent. God could not make the hurt go away. But God could offer a hug. A hug made it possible to bear any amount of suffering. It transformed Job. “Before, I knew you only by hearsay,” he said to God, “but now, having seen with my eyes, I retract what I have said, and repent in dust and ashes.” He witnessed God’s glory. He understood the meaning of his suffering. He felt the compassion of God. He experienced God walking with him.
“What do you want me to do for you?” God asks us on our faith journey. “What do you need? Do you have a longing in your life that just does not seem to be satisfied? Do you dare to ask me to respond to that longing? Can you name your need?” We all come to God with different needs. It may be a need born of desperation. It may be a sudden awareness of our neediness and an equally sudden response to God. It may be a gradual approach, tentative at first and then growing. We may still be searching for what it all means.
That question, "What do you want me to do for you?" is the central drama in our Christian life. We each respond in our own way. And as long as it is central in our lives, then the church lives. It is the root of our Christian vision. It includes all of us; rich and poor, blind and sighted, powerful and weak.
Naming our need is so important. It is the reason why twelve step programs work. The first step is to name the problem. “My name is … and I am an alcoholic.” Until they are able to take the beginning step, there is no recovery.
Victims of abuse too need to name their experience. It is freeing to tell your story and be believed. The greatest affirmation any victim can receive is to be asked as Jesus asked Bartimaeus, “What do you need?” It can be the beginning of healing. It can do far more than any amount of compensation.
Over the years, our aboriginal people have articulated their need for the Church to make amends for the years of abuse they endured. When Michael Peers, the then Primate gave an apology on behalf of the Anglican Church it was a significant step in healing the blindness of centuries of abuse. “I accept,” he said, “and I confess before God and you, our failures in the residential schools. We failed you. We failed ourselves. We failed God.” It was a beginning that is transforming the life of the Church. That work goes on through our National Church still as we hear and respond to the stories of abuse.
That hope springs from the experience of South Africa since the end of apartheid. Desmond Tutu’s prophetic voice speaks profoundly about the sweetness of liberation. He firmly believes that liberation came about through God’s faithful people who had a vision of what that blinded society should be like, and who were unwilling to give up that vision. He saw it as an expression of the faith and prayers of Christians throughout the world.
And somewhere along the way we need to turn that question around. We need to say to God, “What do you need from me?” We need to commit ourselves to God, responding to God's call. It is a question that we need to ask on a personal level, but also as a community of faith. Do we have a vision for our church and for our society? What is the answer to what many say is the post Christian era? What is the answer to the violence in our society? How do we reach out to people who may never have had any contact with the Christian faith? How do we make our church "user friendly" for those who may never have been in a church? How do we help our young people live a Christian life in a system that often reacts in embarrassment at the mere mention of the Christian faith?
It is about opening our blind eyes. It is about seeing and perceiving. It begins with recognizing our own need. It continues with our prayer of faith that gives us a vision for all of creation. As long as that is central the Church lives. Jesus can heal a blind society. He can heal a disintegrating civilization. Through our vision, through our reaching out to those in need, through our commitment to the gospel, through our eyes. Open our eyes, Lord. We want to see Jesus.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Proper 30, Year A
Acts of Love
Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46
“What is the most important commandment?” Jesus is asked. He answered with absolutely no hesitation. His answer, the shema, came from the Torah. Scripture comes in handy when you are put on the spot. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” Jesus knew that there is ultimately one law only, the law to love. It is a law to love God with every part of our being, to love God totally. He knows that love of neighbour and love of self are inseparable from love of God. It is through opening up ourselves to love God, to come into relationship with God, that we learn to love. It is through experiencing love that we become loving people. It is through experiencing love that we enter into relationship with others and ultimately with God.
Unlike the Ten Commandments, the law to love is not simply a set of rules, but a way of life. I was reflecting on the overriding nature of the law to love. How different it is from the law as we know it. Are there other situations in life which are governed by such all encompassing laws?
This past week I was on the way to a meeting. I found myself driving through heavy traffic, something I am thankfully able to avoid most of the time. One driver was obviously in a great hurry. He cut me off forcing me to slam on my brakes. I must admit to you, my immediate thought was revenge. At that moment I wanted to chase him down, honking my horn loudly all the way, making certain that he knew the error of his ways. Instead I muttered a few uncharitable things under my breath, managing to restrain myself from any hand signals. I calmed myself and then had one of those ‘aha’ moments. There are many important laws that govern the way we drive. We had to learn them in order to pass our Driver’s test. Most of the time, we follow the rules of the road. We obey traffic lights. We refrain from speeding. Fear of getting a ticket or being in an accident gives most of us a sense of restraint. So if you asked me, “What is the most important commandment of driving?” I suspect my answer would be “Respect the rights of others”. We have a responsibility when we drive to be courteous and to drive with care. That is an overriding law that sums up all the rest. It is not that the need for the laws about speeding or driving on the right side of the road or stopping at a stop sign would disappear. It is just that by respecting others’ rights, we would naturally obey the laws.
So the overriding commandment for us as Christians is to love God and to love neighbour. Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, it cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.
So the question remains, how are we doing in terms of love? Can I say that I love my neighbour and then get into my car and feel like running him down for cutting me off? Can I say that children are welcome in our church and then shake my fist at them when they make a noise? Can I say that I love my neighbour and ignore the pleas of the starving in Africa? Can I say that I love my neighbour and be complacent about the number of people who continue to die of AIDS throughout our world? To truly love our neighbours, and so to love God, we must learn to look and love beyond what first catches our eye. It must result in loving action.
Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to give thanks.
Loving action brings about radical change. A woman was seeking counsel for her marriage. “What is it that you want?” she was asked. “Revenge!” she said. And went on to list all the things she hated about her husband. The counsellor said to her, “If you truly want revenge the best way to get it is to go home and begin to do loving things for him. Cook him special meals. Go out of your way to be nice to him. And then when you have sucked him in, tell him you want a divorce.”
A month later she went back to see the counsellor. “How are things? Are you getting a divorce?” he asked. “Oh no!” she said. “Things are wonderful. I discovered when I was being nice to my husband that I really loved him. We are reconciled. Things have never been better.”
Things do not always work out that way. Marriages do break down. But we can put the Gospel of love into action every day of our lives. And it will make a difference. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words.
It is the small acts of love that happen every day that make this parish a wonderful, sustaining family. All we need to do to remind ourselves of that is to look at our apple tree banner. There graphically displayed are the acts of love that make this parish flourish. Those are just the beginning of the actions that you take. You pray for and visit the sick and those in need. You phone those you notice are missing from church. You cook food for the bereaved. You volunteer at the Food Bank. You take the time to listen to a friend in need. You send a timely email message to bolster someone who is feeling down.
A poem by an anonymous writer sums it up beautifully. "I sought my soul, and the soul I could not see. I sought my God and God eluded me. I sought my neighbour and found all three." Amen
Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46
“What is the most important commandment?” Jesus is asked. He answered with absolutely no hesitation. His answer, the shema, came from the Torah. Scripture comes in handy when you are put on the spot. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” Jesus knew that there is ultimately one law only, the law to love. It is a law to love God with every part of our being, to love God totally. He knows that love of neighbour and love of self are inseparable from love of God. It is through opening up ourselves to love God, to come into relationship with God, that we learn to love. It is through experiencing love that we become loving people. It is through experiencing love that we enter into relationship with others and ultimately with God.
Unlike the Ten Commandments, the law to love is not simply a set of rules, but a way of life. I was reflecting on the overriding nature of the law to love. How different it is from the law as we know it. Are there other situations in life which are governed by such all encompassing laws?
This past week I was on the way to a meeting. I found myself driving through heavy traffic, something I am thankfully able to avoid most of the time. One driver was obviously in a great hurry. He cut me off forcing me to slam on my brakes. I must admit to you, my immediate thought was revenge. At that moment I wanted to chase him down, honking my horn loudly all the way, making certain that he knew the error of his ways. Instead I muttered a few uncharitable things under my breath, managing to restrain myself from any hand signals. I calmed myself and then had one of those ‘aha’ moments. There are many important laws that govern the way we drive. We had to learn them in order to pass our Driver’s test. Most of the time, we follow the rules of the road. We obey traffic lights. We refrain from speeding. Fear of getting a ticket or being in an accident gives most of us a sense of restraint. So if you asked me, “What is the most important commandment of driving?” I suspect my answer would be “Respect the rights of others”. We have a responsibility when we drive to be courteous and to drive with care. That is an overriding law that sums up all the rest. It is not that the need for the laws about speeding or driving on the right side of the road or stopping at a stop sign would disappear. It is just that by respecting others’ rights, we would naturally obey the laws.
So the overriding commandment for us as Christians is to love God and to love neighbour. Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, it cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.
So the question remains, how are we doing in terms of love? Can I say that I love my neighbour and then get into my car and feel like running him down for cutting me off? Can I say that children are welcome in our church and then shake my fist at them when they make a noise? Can I say that I love my neighbour and ignore the pleas of the starving in Africa? Can I say that I love my neighbour and be complacent about the number of people who continue to die of AIDS throughout our world? To truly love our neighbours, and so to love God, we must learn to look and love beyond what first catches our eye. It must result in loving action.
Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to give thanks.
Loving action brings about radical change. A woman was seeking counsel for her marriage. “What is it that you want?” she was asked. “Revenge!” she said. And went on to list all the things she hated about her husband. The counsellor said to her, “If you truly want revenge the best way to get it is to go home and begin to do loving things for him. Cook him special meals. Go out of your way to be nice to him. And then when you have sucked him in, tell him you want a divorce.”
A month later she went back to see the counsellor. “How are things? Are you getting a divorce?” he asked. “Oh no!” she said. “Things are wonderful. I discovered when I was being nice to my husband that I really loved him. We are reconciled. Things have never been better.”
Things do not always work out that way. Marriages do break down. But we can put the Gospel of love into action every day of our lives. And it will make a difference. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words.
It is the small acts of love that happen every day that make this parish a wonderful, sustaining family. All we need to do to remind ourselves of that is to look at our apple tree banner. There graphically displayed are the acts of love that make this parish flourish. Those are just the beginning of the actions that you take. You pray for and visit the sick and those in need. You phone those you notice are missing from church. You cook food for the bereaved. You volunteer at the Food Bank. You take the time to listen to a friend in need. You send a timely email message to bolster someone who is feeling down.
A poem by an anonymous writer sums it up beautifully. "I sought my soul, and the soul I could not see. I sought my God and God eluded me. I sought my neighbour and found all three." Amen
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