11th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 21, Year A

What Is It That You Do?

Readings: Exodus 1:8-2:10; Psalm 124; Romans 12:1-8; Matthew 16:13-20

I have to admit to rather enjoying the simplistic, sometimes trite, writings of Robert Fulghum, because once in a while he really hits the nail on the head. One of the short stories in his book “It Was on Fire When I Sat Down on It, does exactly that for me. In it he talks about our obsession with role. He remarks about the inevitable question that strangers sitting next to you on a plane ask. “What is it that you do?” they will say to you. What they really want to know, of course, is how you earn your living. That is why so often when he asks them in return what they do, they will respond by handing him their business card. When they do so, he asks again, “But what do you do?” They simply point to the card as if that is explanation enough.

He was not in the habit of carrying a business card himself, so he would try to explain what it was he did, but found it easier to either avoid the question or make something up. That got him into a number of tricky circumstances, so he finally thought of a way out of it all. He got himself a business card; on it was one word, “Fulgham”. He says that when he gives it away it leads to fine conversations about what it means to be a son, or a dancer, or a teacher, or a runner, or whatever.

He sums up what he has learned. “I and you – we are infinite, rich, large, contradictory, living breathing miracles – free human beings, children of God and the everlasting universe. That’s what we do.” What he has discovered is that it is not really about what we do but about who we are. It is about becoming what God has called us to be.

That for me is surely an underlying theme of our readings today. They all have in common that they are about becoming. They are about how we come to know God, and in turn God finds us and helps us to become all that we are meant to be.

It is there in that age-old story of Moses, the babe in the bulrushes, the baby placed lovingly in a papyrus basket and put amongst the reeds by the bank of the river so that he will be saved. It takes place at a time of unrest in the history of the Hebrew people. There has been a change of government in Egypt. The Hebrew people who took refuge there during a time of famine suddenly find themselves facing slavery, even genocide as Pharaoh commands that young boys be killed. It is the Hebrew women who take charge of the situation. The midwives disobey the order to kill the children. By being themselves, by acting with integrity and by meeting the challenges with wisdom and compassion, they save the lives of countless babies. In an unexpected turn of events, they save Moses, the very child who will in turn save the Hebrew people. God’s eye is on the situation. None of the women could have known the impact of what they were doing. They simply did what was right without fearing the consequences. God took care of the rest.

Then there is the account of the Apostle Paul, writing to the Church in Rome. Paul reminds them that everyone is different. He reminds them that it is a good thing that everyone is different, that we all have different gifts and talents. He wants them to cheerfully accept the particular task or role for which they are best suited. He knows that the congregation will be at its healthiest if all are serving God in the right capacity. He asks them to realize that they are called to give themselves into a living body with other committed Christians. They are to become everything that God wants them to be.

Then there is the story of Peter coming into his own. Jesus is at a crucial point in his ministry. He withdraws with his disciples, not to his home in Galilee, but rather to the district around Caesarea Philippi. It is probably one of the most secular places that Jesus ever visited. Not only is it an army headquarters. It is also a centre for the worship of the god, Pan. Here beneath the slopes of Mount Hermon, in this lovely area watered by cold, rushing streams that converge to form the Jordan River, Jesus asks the disciples a key question about their faith. “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”

They have many answers for Jesus – John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, one of the prophets. And so Jesus asks again, “Who do you say that I am?” This is not some rhetorical question. He does not want them to talk about what he has accomplished. It is a real question. He wants a real answer, an answer from the heart. The disciples dodge until Simon finally says to him, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” It is a response that comes, not from his great theological background. He does not have one. It comes not from anything that he has been taught. It comes from deep inside him. It comes with conviction.

This is Peter after all. At least as the story continues, it will be. Peter, more than anyone knows the humanity of Jesus. He has travelled with him. He has seen him angry, and tired and frustrated. But he has also seen him work great miracles. He has seen him deal with compassion with the needy people who followed him everywhere. He has seen him use a few meager resources to feed hungry people. He has seen him still stormy weather. He knows that Jesus is different. He is the Christ. When Peter calls Jesus the Messiah, he is recognizing all of that. He is seeing beyond Jesus’ role to who he really is.

And Jesus responds to him, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” Peter not only discovers the real identity of Jesus; he discovers his own identity too. Simon the fisherman discovers that he has something in him that makes him Peter, the rock, the foundation on which the Christian Church is built.

Our faith stories, yours and mine are about ‘becoming’. That sense of ‘becoming’ is the foundation of our faith. Jesus says to each of us, “Who do you say that I am?” It is a very contemporary question, one that we need to ask ourselves in the context of our own lives. We have so many ways of viewing Jesus. Can you imagine Jesus’ business card! Teacher, guru, moral ethicist, leader, religious icon, revolutionary, freedom fighter, political liberator! There is no one answer. All of those views reflect human history. They reflect human experience. There is some truth to each one.

And the amazing thing is that knowing Jesus helps us to understand more fully who we are. Our faith helps us to be more fully who we are meant to be. That was one of the most important things that I learned while I was studying theology. I thought I was studying to learn how to be a priest. What I discovered was that God was calling me to be more authentically myself. God has called me to be the best ‘Ann’ that I can be. God has called you to be the best ‘Nola’ or ‘Roger’ or ‘Pat” that you can be.

So who do you say Jesus is? Who is Jesus in the Bible, in the creeds of the Church? More importantly, who is Jesus in your life? Who is Jesus in how you spend your money, your time, your energy, your leisure? I ask not because I want to give you a guilt trip, but because we need to know what we mean by what we say about Jesus. We need to let it shape our lives. It needs to shape who we are becoming. Knowing Jesus needs to make a difference in our lives. And I suspect the most important aspect of knowing ourselves is that sense of becoming is the foundation of a resilient Christian community.

You can look back on the long and varied ministry in this place. You can remember people who brought with them their unique gifts and talents. You can also look back on mistakes that were made, on difficult times that you would rather forget. And then you can look forward with anticipation to ministry yet to take place. If Peter is the rock on whom the Church of God is built, then you are the rock, the foundation on which this parish is built.

When we gather as a community as we do every Sunday, we recognize that we are called to be one with the whole Christian Church throughout the world. In a society where so many are lonely and emotionally needy, how important it is to hear this message of inclusivity and belonging. Hopefully it results in all of us learning to share our gifts and talents.

So who do you say that Jesus is? Is he Lord of your life?

The Reign of Christ, Year B

A Kingdom of Truth

Readings: 2 Sam 23:1-7; Psalm 132:2-23; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37

Perhaps you feel as I do sometimes when you switch on the morning news or read the newspaper over a cup of coffee. I try to wrap my mind around everything that is going on in our country and around the world. It sometimes seems as if I am trying to awaken from a terrible dream. However, the belief and hope in a Saviour that enters exactly where the forces of chaos seem to be most rampant is what allows me to get up and face the day. Particularly as we come to the end of the Church Year and consider a new beginning, I find myself taking heart in the image of Christ, a king born in the shadow of the Roman Empire, threatened, persecuted and killed by that empire, but risen from the dead and reigning on high. It is a hope in the promise of salvation that carries me through and allows me to open myself up to all the possibilities that I see in Christ.

On this last Sunday of the Church Year, the Reign of Christ, we are challenged to ponder issues of divine and human power and leadership. Do our visions of divine power shape our images of human power and authority? Or, do our visions and practices of human power shape how we view God? Do we use our visions of God as justifications for our own power relationships, our power over others? As I ponder these questions, I suspect our understandings of the relationship of divine and human power are one and the same as they relate to issues of gender, sexuality, class, political policy.

I spent three days this week pondering those same questions in terms of our relationship to our Indigenous peoples. I attended a conference training people to be ambassadors in the Truth and Reconciliation process as we come to terms with the abuse our Indigenous peoples suffered in the residential schools that robbed them of their language, their culture, their relationship with their families, their childhood. I found myself having to deal with my part in that abuse as a teacher in that same system. And over the course of the three days I found a point of healing in which I was given permission to forgive myself and reclaim what a privilege and a blessing it was to have taught in that northern community. It was a time of turning the tables on power that resonates so clearly with this week's gospel and indeed with the whole them of Christ as King.

Jesus is brought before Pilate. The accusation against him is that he is claiming to be a king. He stands there, this peasant figure, hands tied behind his back, bruised and bleeding from the abuse of his captors. "What is all the fuss about?" Pilate says to himself. "Can you, poor creature that you are, really be a king? What kind of a threat could you possibly pose to Imperial Rome?" And then aloud, he demands, "Are you the king of the Jews?"

Jesus answers boldly, "Are you asking, or is it what you have been told about me?"
Pilate is taken aback. Doesn’t this man know his power? "Do I look like a Jew?" Pilate demands. Then back to the task at hand, "It is your own people who have handed you over to me. You must have done something to deserve this treatment. What have you done?"

"My kingdom is not of this world." Jesus continues. And it is true! So true that Pilate cannot even imagine how different. Jesus’ kingdom has no boundaries, no army, no wealth. His authority comes from God alone. His is a kingdom based on justice and mercy. It is impossible for someone like Pilate who cannot help but think in worldly terms to even conceive of what Jesus is saying.

Pilate is a politician. He understands authority. He has wealth. He has power. "So that means that you are a king after all!" He says to Jesus. He wants a yes or no answer. But that is not what he gets.

"I would not choose the title "king" for myself," Jesus explains. "For to be a king as you know it is not my role. My mission is to be a witness, not a king. My subjects are those who believe what I have to say."

Those few words overturn every concept of kingship and power that one can imagine. Do they raise questions in your mind as they do in mine? In what sense is Jesus king? In what sense is he Lord of the events of my life? Who is Jesus for me? Those are the questions that arise for me as we celebrate this feast.

John the Divine gives us a long list of descriptions for who Jesus is for him. ‘The one who is, and who was, and who is to come, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, the ruler of the kings of the earth, the one who loves us, the one who has freed us from our sins, the alpha and the omega’. Can we hear in these descriptive names for Jesus the excitement that John has for the faith? So often our image of Jesus is confined to the comfortable.

For many the image is gentle Jesus with the children hanging on to his knees. That is the picture many of us grew up with in Sunday School. It is a warm and comforting image of Christ. It is a view of Jesus that takes me immediately back to my childhood. I can see myself kneeling at the side of my bed, hands folded, rattling off my prayers, “Now I lay me down to sleep… God bless mommy and daddy… ” A wonderful image, but will it get me up off my knees and out into the real world.

For many Jesus is the good shepherd. Even in our urban society where shepherds are no where to be found we take comfort in that beautiful image. We see ourselves out in the fields following after Jesus, not a care in the world. He is there to comfort, to guide, to lead, to heal our wounds, to protect us from danger.

Perhaps for us Jesus is our personal therapist. We bring all of our problems to Jesus. We come in our neediness with our long list of woes. We expect that Jesus will make our lives easy and comfortable. It is important to pray for our needs and the needs of others. But it is important because it should inspire and motivate us to action. We need to get up off our knees and do something about ourselves and about the state of the world.

Then perhaps the right image for Jesus would be that of radical reformer. If we want to change the world, to make it a better place, to put and end to violence and war, then Jesus the reformer is the one we need to follow. We want an end to violence and war. And we’ll fight to make it happen. That may seem a 60’s kind of role for Jesus, yet in many ways it is fairly traditional. At least some of the disciples seem often to be viewing Jesus in the traditional role of Messiah. They followed Jesus because in their messianic fervour they were convinced that Jesus would overthrow the Roman rulers and become the political liberator. They believed that God had sent Jesus to save the Jewish nation. They looked for a messiah who would restore the kingdom of Israel. He would conquer the enemies of Israel and become the ruler of an earthly kingdom. That was certainly the kind of kingship that Pilate’s questions to Jesus reflect.

The problem is that Jesus is all of those things and so much more. When we limit who Jesus is we lose the capacity to see God as other than a resource for personal need. We lose our vision that will propel us in the breaking in of God’s kingdom. We lose sight of the kingship of Jesus. We have a vocation. We have a Lord to serve. We have a kingdom to build.

I know that my part in that kingdom building will include something about the work that the Church needs to do in righting the wrongs done to our indigenous peoples, in walking with them on the road to healing and truth telling. At this point I am unsure just what that will entail. But I know it will bring me full circle in my life.

All of us are on that journey. How do people come to know that we are Christians? How do they know that we serve King Jesus? To know who Jesus is in our lives should inspire and motivate us to action. I am not advocating that you go out two by two into the community collaring unsuspecting victims and dragging them back to church. But if our faith does not motivate us to action, then we are lacking something. If the suffering around us numbs us then we will be unable to take responsibility for it. Being Christian, following Jesus, being forgiven and having eternal life are not so much about what affects us, but how we live as servants of God and how we affect the lives of others. May God grant that the sin that divides us from one another may be overcome, and that we may be united under the gentle and glorious rule of our Lord, Jesus Christ. We are called to loving service in the world on behalf of our king. May we proclaim that Christ is king in our lives! May it spur us on to living our lives for Christ and for those around us!