Tuesday, June 24, 2014

The Mercy of God trumps the Law of Murphy and of Unintended Consequences . . .

     There is an incontrovertible truth out there, perhaps second only to the one called Murphy’s Law, which everyone knows: The Law of Unintended Consequences.  I see by your nods that you are at least somewhat familiar with it.  I preached on the Genesis 21 passage at LutherCrest this past Wednesday, and I spoke about how we make a huge mess of things when we try to help God or when we do not let God be God in our lives.  It provoked a number of interesting discussions after the service.  Those not interested in meeting Hannah and David were very interested in pleading their case that their particular sins, their particular failures, made them unworthy of salvation.  It was a particularly disturbing set of discussions, I must confess, in light of the fact that some other pastor had been through the week prior teaching them that they were all going to die and go to hell until Jesus returned to pull them out.  This pastor seemed to have confirmed their worst fears at a very vulnerable time in their lives.  As one lady laughed with me after we had worked through some of this, many of the residents are like her, closer to two feet in the grave than one!  The idea of going to hell and hoping that Jesus would one day come and rescue them played into their fears that they are unworthy, that they are the unique ones for whom Jesus’ sacrifice on the Cross was not enough!
     Our reading in Genesis today should speak to that unspoken fear.  Sarah has acted like anything but a saint up until this point in the narrative.  When God first promised her that she and Abraham would have descendants that numbered like the stars in the sky or the sand on the beach, how did she respond?  At times she scoffed at God because of her advanced age, at another times, though, she took matters into her own hands.  Sometimes, that meant lying to kings; at other times, that meant treating a servant like a piece of meat.  In a story that makes many of us uncomfortable, Sarah offered her maidservant Hagar to her husband Abraham.  The story makes us uncomfortable because we know that Hagar could not really say no to her mistress’ offer.  Abraham fathered a child with Hagar, whom he named Ishmael.  Eventually, and not surprisingly, God kept His promise.  Despite her advanced age, Sarah conceived and bore a son to Abraham, whom he named Isaac.
     You and I can easily imagine the excitement, the joy.  Both remained childless until they were nearly 100 years old.  Having raised seven of my own, I’m not sure that the joy would overcome the work at that age.  But I can well imagine the joy and wonder at such an event.  The joy and wonder should have even been deeper because it signified to her that God had kept His promise.  God had chosen her and her husband to be the head of a new nation.  Now, against all the odds and all that they understood about nature, the beginning of that promise had been fulfilled.  Yet, how does Sarah respond?
     Our story picks up with her response.  A couple years have passed.  Ishmael, the son of Hagar and Abraham, is playing with her son Isaac and making him laugh.  Ah, the horror!  Can you imagine, two kids playing together and laughing!  We laugh a bit at that idea, but that seems to be Ishmael’s great crime against Sarah.  Sarah is upset about this and demands that Abraham cast out Hagar and her son.  Now, we men can totally understand how Abraham must have felt, right?  None of us have ever done what our wives told us and found ourselves in trouble, have we?  Yes, I know ladies, that’s a two way street, but there is a reason that hurricanes were named only after women until the late 70’s.
     All kidding aside, what has happened?  God made a promise to Abraham and Sarah.  Did they believe the promise?  Not really.  Sarah assumed that she was too old to bear children.  So, she took matters into her own hands and told Abraham to sleep with her maidservant.  Can you imagine that discussion?  And, lest we blame Sarah only for a lack of faith, Abraham could have said no.  True, it might have cost him some peace for a while, but he could have accepted God’s promise and chosen a wiser course.  Now, the very thing they wanted to happen, the very thing they tried to make happen, is enraging his wife.  She wants Ishmael gone.  And Abraham is apparently praying about it.  God tells Abraham to do what his wife says, that He will not forget the boy and the slave woman.  So, wonderful Father Abraham, that magnificent saint of old, gives Hagar some bread, a single water skin, and her son, and tells her to leave.  He does not remind his wife that Ishmael is the product of their “helping God.”  He does not remind his wife that such a decision will likely cost the woman and her child their lives.
     The rest of the consequence of Sarah’s and Abraham’s decision play out with God once again acting to keep His promise.  Once the bread and water are gone and Hagar’s strength is played out, she sets the child down and goes about a bowshot away.  She fully expects for her son to die, and she cannot stand the sound of it.  Neither can she forget him and leave him.  She simply watches from a distance and calls out in anguish to this God of her mistress and master.
     Can you imagine her prayer?  Lord, I was obedient to my mistress and master and look what it got me?  Lord, if you are so merciful, why do you let us die from exposure?  Why not kill him and me quickly?  Lord, why am I being punished for my obedience?  Why is my child punished for my obedience?  As He promised Abraham, the Lord hears Hagar’s complaint and acts to save the boy and his mother.  God tells her to take Ishmael’s hand and do not let go.  He promises to make a nation of her son, too.  And then, in confirmation of His power, He unveils a well of water which she uses to refill her skin and to slake Ishmael’s thirst.  Eventually, we are told, Ishmael grows.  He becomes an expert with the bow.  Once old enough, Hagar finds her son a wife in Egypt.  And from that marriage comes another nation.
     I shared with the LutherCrest congregation that the result of this promise in the creation of what we now know as the Arabs.  Think on that for just a second.  In my life, countless hours have been spent by world leaders trying to reach an accord between the descendants of Ishmael and the descendants of Isaac.  There have been some modest successes, but overall, failure has far outweighed those successes.  Sometimes, well meaning Christians will ask why they all can’t get along.  Now we know the answer.  Any of us have any family strife because of favoritism?  Have any of us favored one child over another and experienced all manner of family fights?  Perhaps a few of us were favored or, seemingly, ignored in light of another sibling.  What we see playing out in the Middle East is simply family dynamics on a massive scale.
     All of that brings us back to the so-called Law of Unintended Consequences.  Do you think Sarah could have ever imagined, when she first told Abraham to father a child on Hagar, that her offer would lead to strife some three to four thousand years later?  Do you think Abraham could have ever foreseen that consequence when he agreed to Sarah’s demands to cast out the child and Hagar?  In the classic sense of the term, Abraham and Sarah shared a hamartia.  Though the term will be picked up by Paul, as in his letter today, to describe sin, it was originally an archery term,  “Missing the mark.”  In the Greek tragedies, it signified a simultaneous belief and disbelief in the promises or oracles of God.  Oedipus may have had the most famous hamartia, but Sarah’s and Abraham’s are no less tragic.  Both agree to leave Ur and head to the Land that God will give them.  Along the way, He promises to make of them a great nation.  And from that point forward, they experience the struggle of faith.
     Do Abraham and Sarah believe God?  They sure believed Him enough to leave their ancestral inheritance in search of the Land He promised.  Do they really believe that He can keep His promises to them?  Not so much.  Sarah scoffs when informed she will conceive.  No wonder!  She is well past the change of life for a woman.  Imagine your own thoughts, those of us ladies of a certain age, if God said you were going to conceive at age 99!  Of course, God’s promise was not just the child; He promised to make a nation of their descendants.  Sarah and Abraham understandably thought God needed help fulfilling His promises to them.  Kings sometimes kill the spouses of those whom they desire, as one of their heirs named David can attest.  Elderly women conceiving is its own challenge that seemed to require a maidservant.  Finally, if both sons were present, might the one infringe on the inheritance of the other?  We can understand their belief and disbelief, even as we criticize their behavior.
     You and I, though, have even less reason not to trust God.  Abraham and Sarah stand at the far beginning of God’s covenant and mercies.  At times, I am sure they thought themselves crazy for trusting the voice that said “Go.”  You and I, though, live on this side of the fulfilled promise of God.  Christ has died!  Christ has risen!  Sarah and Abraham could only trust the voice they heard.  You and I have the testimony of the Twelve, of the women, and of the countless saints who have come since.  We have every reason not to fail to trust God.  We know!  We absolutely know His power over death and His power to redeem our sins!  We know!
     And yet, how many times in our lives will we evidence that same belief and disbelief as evidence by our spiritual matriarch and patriarch?  How many times will we turn our aim from God’s will, God’s plan, to our own?  How many times will we shoot blindly at a target of our own making?
     One of the wonderful lessons of this story, brothers and sister, is that our lives are not ruled by the Law of Unintended Consequences.  Our lives are ruled by the loving, merciful God who, despite our failures, despite our sins, desires nothing more than to draw us to Himself.  He desires that kind of communion with us so much that He was willing to die for each one of us, just as He promised Abraham and Sarah so long ago.  Often forgotten in these stories of Abraham and Sarah is the story of the smoking fire pot.  We might criticize Sarah and Abraham and later ourselves for our failures to keep God’s instructions, but God knew all this about us before He ever created the world!  The covenant which God swore to Abraham was common in those days.  What was unique about that covenant, though, was that God made Himself the ultimate One responsible for the failure of their descendants and our inability to keep the terms of the promise.  In effect, when God passed between those animals, He pledged to Abraham and Sarah that, if they or their heirs ever failed to live up to the covenant, He would pay with His life.  He would pay the price for their and our failures.  He would pay the price for all failures.  Now, in this time after the fulfillment of that covenant, all He asks is that we seek Him, aim for His target, and trust in His ability to see us through all things.
     By virtue of that pastor’s focus on hell and of this reading, the group on Wednesday spent a great deal of time reflecting on those times where they believed and disbelieved God’s promises.  Hopefully, at various times in your walk with God, you have done the same thing.  Have you tried to help God out with a better way of doing things?  Probably.  I know I have.  Have you ever forgotten His promises and found yourself scrambling to work yourself out of a particularly difficult jam, perhaps using methods upon which your Lord would frown?  Most likely.  I know I have.  Have you ever found yourself scoffing at the Lord’s promises to you, certain in your own belief that you are uniquely unredeemable in God’s eyes?  There is no real need to answer that question, is there?  Each of us struggles with that belief and disbelief.  We want so desperately to believe that our Father in heaven loves us deeply; yet we find so hard to accept that He died for us knowing our sins before we were ever born.  It is an amazing thought, is it not, to be that loved, that cherished.  Like conceiving and giving birth at near 100 years of age, it defies all the world accepts and expects.
     There is a strong temptation, brothers and sisters, to skip from Isaac’s birth to his near sacrifice in next week’s readings.  We want so badly to focus on the mountaintop experiences of our faith.  Yet the story related in Genesis, as told by God to Moses, included this deep descent into Sarah’s treatment of, and Abraham’s acquiescence to, one of the results of their failure to trust God.  More’s the pity when we ignore it.  Scripture is replete with stories of God’s mercy.  In particular, Scripture is full of stories of God forgiving those whom He has chosen for their sins and their failures, and then His use of them to grow His kingdom.  Whether we are speaking of Sarah & Abraham, David, Peter, Paul, or ourselves, it does not matter.  His power to redeem all things, even death, is greater than ours.  We may think we live under a cloud, we may think Murphy has dominion over us, we may think the Law of Unintended Consequences governs our lives.  The glorious truth is that His mercy, His truth, His grace rules our lives, if we will but give up the reigns and the idea that we can do things better.  In the end, as Jesus reminds us today, you and I are of incredible value to our Lord.  Why not quit flogging yourself and start seeking His will for you.
Peace,

Brian†

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Trinity Sunday 2014 . . .

     It is that wonderful time of the year when the assistant clergy get to dazzle congregations with heresies about the Trinity!  Those of you expecting to see the altar and me in green might have been shocked to see the white.  Before we get into regular season, though, we have one more feast day to celebrate.  Trinity Sunday is a unique feast in that it is celebrated as a feast more about a doctrine than as a feast about an event or person.  I say “celebrated as” in tribute to how we clergy handle it rather than as the feast should be understood.  After all, the Trinity is all about three persons in one unity.  But, as a wise old priest named Richard taught me during my aspirancy and early postulancy, it far too often becomes a day when clergy feel compelled to prove to their congregations just how much they learned in seminary.  Part of that urgency to wax longwindedly on the subject of the Trinity is due to the fact that, in most churches large enough to have multiple clergy serving, one of the junior clergy gets the job of preaching this day.  Understandably, they really want to impress the congregation and the boss, so they tend to give theological papers rather than sermons.  The other reason for the urgency, though, is the subject matter.  How does one rationally explain a tenet of the faith?  We profess as Christians that the Trinity is a revealed truth, a truth revealed through the instruction of the Holy Spirit.  It is not a theory that builds upon other theories and postulates and hypothesis.  So, how does one explain it?  Better still, how does one explain why it is important to our faith, important enough that those who reject it are considered out of step with the orthodox faith?
     Naturally, we turn to metaphors and similes to describe the Holy Trinity, as it is impossible for us to wrap our minds around a mystery.  Over the years, I have heard some interesting descriptions of the Trinity.  I have listened to sermons comparing the Trinity to an apple, to a person on stage (which is actually more faithful to Augstine’s persona than most people realize), to a waltz, to a writhing mass of mating eel-fish under the full moon on a submerged sandbar in lake Michigan (i still don’t understand that one), to Minnesota green stone, to a clover leaf, to fractals, to “Flat World”, and to lots of others.  Seeing some of your faces, I can tell you have heard some of those descriptions as well.  The problem with all of them, and not just the eel-fish, is that they each, in trying to describe the Trinity, delve into heresy.  Sometimes, the teaching devolves into the heresy of modalism (you know, I am Brian the priest, Brian the husband, and Brian the dad); at other times, it may devolve into something else.  That’s the problem with trying to wrap our heads around the Trinity.  We are trying to describe and to limit the indescribable and the infinite.  More often than not, as Fr. Richard warned me now 11 or 12 years ago, the preacher forgets to relate the importance of the doctrine to the life of the Christian.  Most of us sitting here today probably don’t expect me nor want me to explain fully the idea of three hyperstases in one ousia.  A few of you might want to know why it matters.  More of you may be wondering if it should matter.
     To make matters a bit worse, this is my seventh Trinity Sunday among you.  I am not a fan of repeating sermons, as I think we are all, collectively and individually, in different places in our relationship with God than we were last Trinity Sunday or three years ago or seven years ago.  Luckily, time conspired with me to give me a good simile.  Today, as you can see by the numbers of visitors in the Curtis clan, is a special day in the life of Ron Curtis.  Today, we are celebrating Ron’s 50 years of ministry in the St. Alban’s choir.  50 years!  Can you imagine committing to a ministry for 50 years?  To put it in perspective, Ron has served in the choir for almost the entirety of the parish’s existence.  To really make him feel old, his current music director was not even alive, never mind acolyting, in this very church when he started!  50 years of leading the people of St. Alban’s in song!  50 years of making joyful noises to the Lord!  50 years of singing our Lord’s praise, of singing our Lord’s mercy, of singing our Lord’s grace.  It is an amazing example of steadfast service in this day and age.  Ron, on behalf of all those whom you have served, thank you.
     As I was thinking of perspective surrounding Ron’s service, it dawned on me I had another simile in which to describe the Trinity: The Trinity is like a good church choir.  See, now I have your attention, don’t I?  Notice I said like.  As with any description of the Trinity, my words will fail on some level, but consider:
     God the Father.  When we speak of our Father in heaven, how many of us think of the boss part of God?  How many of us envision a Father Time figure with a beard sitting on some golden throne with angels attendant?  How many of confuse images of Zeus in mythology with our Father, who art in heaven?  How many of us attribute creation, about which we read today, exclusively to Him.  The problem with that image is that we forget the co-eternal nature of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Our very readings today remind us that His Spirit, the Holy Spirit, brooded over the waters.  Our readings today remind us that you and I, and all men and women, were created in the image and likeness of the Son.  So, put differently, God the Father is like a good music director in a church choir.
     Think about the simile for example.  It is the Father’s will which drives the Son and the Holy Spirit, just as it is the will of the choir director which selects our music week in and week out.  That’s right, in this understanding, Nicole is like the Father (though Jason thinks she is much cuter!).  She selects the music we sing.  She selects the music the choir sings.  In fact, she selects whether we sing at all or just listen in silence.  Nicole is responsible for the music prior to the service and after.  In short, Nicole determines the role of music in our worship.  To do this, Nicole has to weigh our talent and that of the choir, the time available for practice, and familiarity of the music which she thinks should be sung.  We might say her will sets the tone for our music in worship.
     As a matter of practice, of course, Nicole is always praying over the readings, hymnals, and CCLI trying to discern which music to select.  Her ministry is to augment our worship services through music.  If she is doing her job in accordance with the Holy Spirit, and if I am doing my job in accordance with the Holy Spirit, the preaching and music lifts us all is worship.  If we are doing our jobs, our voices join with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.  You all can collectively discern how well we have done by how well fed you have been during worship.  She and I never collaborate on the music or the sermon.  Those times when they seem to fit together seamlessly, as some of you are wont to notice, speaks to the fact that we have done a good job discerning God, or we got a lot of help through His mercy!  So, in fulfilling her role as our Father in the worship music in this example, Nicole is actually living out one of the promises of God: namely, one day, we will all enjoy unfettered communion with the Trinity.
     Just as Nicole fulfills the role of the Father in our example, the members of the choir fulfill the role of the Incarnation.  As Ron can no doubt testify to much better than anyone, the choir is responsible for leading our musical worship.  When Nicole wants to introduce a new hymn or gloria or other song, who first sings it?  The choir.  Nicole introduces the new music to the choir and then has them practice it until it is sufficiently known to be revealed in worship.  As we hear the tune repeatedly, hopefully, we are able to pick up on the songs and lend our voices to the praise of God.
     As a matter of practice, of course, this is really only accomplished through the gift of the Holy Spirit.  I tell people from time to time that Bishop Scarfe praised our choir as, perhaps, the second best in the diocese when he and I were discussing St. Alban’s more than eight years ago.  The top choir, in his mind, was professional.  But St. Alban’s, he remarked, had an incredible choir for its size.  Imagine my surprise when, in meeting with Nicole and some of the members of the choir early in my tenure, I learned that some could not even read music!  Think of those services in which you have felt transported by the music in your worship of God.  Some of those offering their voices in praise could not tell us whether they were singing a note in B-flat or F-sharp!  Yet, look at the result.  How did they get themselves and us there?  Lots and lots of practice, and lots and lots of grace.  Some songs required months of practice.  Other songs were picked up quickly.  In whatever time it took, the choir gathered week after week, under the director and tutelage of Nicole, to produce eventually the music you and I came to love.  Obedience.  Perseverance.  A willingness to put themselves out there.  Those characteristics might sound a bit familiar to you.  And let’s not forget seeming failure.  I am told, though I often find it hard to believe, that the choir has cringed at the sound of some of their practices.  I am told that even during rehearsal on Sunday morning, some songs were just not going to work.  Yet, in spite of seeming impending failure, they have offered their gifts and talents to lead us in our worship  Best of all, the fruit of all their work, of all their dedication, of all their service, of all their leadership, and even of their willingness to fail in front of us, is a result which lifts you and me and all others who join us in worship on any given Sunday to feel that we are participating in that heavenly choir while on earth.
     It would not be a simile about the Trinity were I not to include the Holy Spirit of the choir.  We have talked this morning how, in practical terms, the Holy Spirit is ever present guiding Nicole and the individuals members of the choir in the selection and singing of hymns.  But how would we describe the Trinity in this simile?  The songwriters.  At some point in the past, someone or several someones have composed the music and set words to those notes.  Like authors who tell a tale, these writers and composers intended to worship God.  At some point, their songs became their spiritual worship of the Triune God.  But, in order for their music to bear the fruit they intended, someone must select it and someone must sing it.  Better still, as Anglicans / Episcopalians, we understand that someone may have needed to adapt the music locally in order to capture the music for that community.  4/4 songs can be played at different tempos, from a happy beat to a dirge.  The same is true of any other meter.  But it is the genius of the songwriters and composers which serve as the foundation of musical worship in every community.  They write the songs, they publish the songs, and they pray that God will honor their efforts.
     In practical terms, songwriters and composers are not unlike the psalmists.  They are trying to capture in verse and music the narrative of salvation history.  Those who write songs for the Church will tell of an incredible prayer life or incredible moment of insight which led to a particular song.  Better still, few of the good ones ever start out expecting their song to be the next big Christian hit.  Most simply write songs or compose because that is their talent, that is their gift.  They recognize its source as God, and they do all in their power to honor Him in their work.  More amazingly to me, when they offer their music to the wider body of believers, they are giving up a lot of control.  How Nicole interprets a song at St. Alban’s may differ drastically from how the music director at Trinity Cathedral interprets it or how the music director of a praise and worship service interprets it.  In offering the song to the Body, the writer signals his or her intent; but once offered, there is little he or she can do to affect how the song is used in worship.  Are all the verses sung?  Is the tempo what he or she imagined?
     The end result, of course, testifies as to whether the three parts of the sung worship (director, choir members, and songwriter) were really in unity, were really representing the Trinity among us in our worship.  When done well, we are transported, the veil between this world and the next gets torn just that bit more.  When done poorly and for the wrong reasons, we suffer, we cringe, we think God is not really that close among us.  All of this, of course, leads me back to purpose.  Why do we talk about the Trinity?  Why is it important enough in our lives that it deserves a feast day?  Isn’t it just a foundational doctrine that we have to accept?
     As I was thinking of this example of the Trinity among us, I noticed that I could say similar things about a number of our ministries.  Many of our ministries at St. Alban’s profess the goal of our faith, that one day you and I and all others who profess Christ as Lord will be drawn into unfettered community with the Triune God.  No more will we take the Trinity as a matter of faith.  It will become our reality.  We will understand how the Trinity functions.  We will see the three hypostases in one ousia, and it will make sense.  But for now, we live in a world of shadows.  You and I and all Christians are called to mirror the reality which we are promised.  Marriages are meant to reflect the truth of the Trinity in the three persons (husband and wife under God’s leadership) in one unity, one will.  Our efforts to feed the hungry at Community meal is meant to reflect that promise.  How so?  We prepare food we eat at our own homes certain that, in serving those hungry, we serve our Lord to His glory.  As one of our “regulars” shared with one of the newcomers this month, we cook as if they are our family and as if Jesus really might walk through those doors any moment.  Our efforts to assist the women and children at Winnie’s Place reflect our understanding of the Trinity.  We feed and we give clothes and other items, certain that those ladies and children need them.  Better still, we do a pretty good job of sorting through the rummage that some in our community around us might want to dump.  We understand that each woman we serve, each child for whom we give a toy, was created in God’s image and loved every bit as much by Him as are we.  We are impelled by love to give them hope, to remind them that He loves them in ways completely unlike that “love” which they have experienced to date, that they are never alone.
     Our list, brothers and sisters, could go on and on, from the service to members of AA to the Vestry, from the effort to free those enslaved in our midst to reaching those in our neighborhood who do not yet know the love of God.  The Trinity is important because it is the end for which we all who call ourselves Christian strive.  We know that our Father has called us into relationship with Him.  We know that our Lord Christ has made us worthy to stand before our Father in heaven and not cringe at the thought but expect the welcome of the father in the story of the Prodigal Son.  And we know that, because of our adoption into this unique relationship between the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, we will be empowered to accomplish His will on earth.  In truth, the Trinity ought to be the center of our understanding about our relationship with God.  Just as He is Three Persons in one Unity, He can create in us and those around us, a people of one mind, one will, one purpose.  In the end, our grasp of the Trinity, and the relationship it embodies, informs our efforts to minister to others in His name and to His glory, drawing them into that eternal relationship to which He calls all humanity.  You see, each of these ministries, just as the example of the choir, exist for that very purpose, leading us and others to the worship of the Triune God.

Peace,

Brian†

Friday, June 13, 2014

Gun control discussion . . .

     One of the subjects of discussion around the parish this week has been the issue of gun control.  The map showing the sites of shootings has been popular around the parish Facebook pages, and a few of you have had some passionate discussions about gun control and the Second Amendment on your pages and over coffee or drinks.  Yes, the map over-exaggerated the number of Sandy Hook-like shootings, but even one more shooting at a school is too many for most.  The cause of this passion, of course, is we have seen two more school shootings reported in the last week or so.  Some fear that it is only a matter of time before we experience a shooting in our community; others worry that efforts to control gun access will limit their ability to protect their families in the case of just such emergencies.  Everybody wants to believe they are in the right on the discussion.  Naturally, that involves trying to figure out what God teaches on the subject.  I am one of the pastors in the lives of many of the people who pass through these doors so, naturally, I have been peppered with a number of questions and been sucked into one very passionate discussion as a result of expressing my thoughts to an individual who attends another church.  Her pastor was furious about my thoughts.  Not many of you have gone away certain about the proper response to these shootings, and that is good.  The issues are complex, to say the least; and, suffice it to say, what may be right for me or mine may not be for you or yours.  What’s worse, while we find ourselves engaged in a secular debate and a Christian discussion, neither of those fights, from my perspective, address the real cause of these shootings.
    As Americans, of course, we have enshrined in our Constitution the Right to Bear Arms.  The courts have generally held that, barring some sort of criminal past or mental illness, that right is unassailable.  As Americans, we also believe that everyone has the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  Many of our secular fights occur when these rights seem to be in conflict with one another, as we see evidenced in the press about gun control.  Does my right to own a weapon infringe upon your right to safety?  Does the limit of my right to own a gun inhibit my ability to protect my liberty or my life?  Those are the kinds of questions swirling around in this debate on the secular side.  These are not idle discussions as both sides can point to the Constitution to justify their rights.  Naturally, though, you and I are not just concerned with American rights and privileges.  As St. Paul reminds us, our true citizenship is in God’s kingdom.
     What does God say about gun control or the right to bear arms?  Not very much specifically.  Those of us who claim Christ as Lord would probably still fight about it even if there was a teaching or two in the torah.  We are not permitted to kill other human beings, except under very specific circumstances such as war, and then, as Christians, we often like to think our wars are necessary evils to preserve us or to protect the weak.  God places a tremendous value upon human life, even to the point of not allowing manslaughter more than once (Deuteronomy 22:8 comes to mind).  That should not surprise those of who believed He died to save us from our sins.  But He also gave us dominion over the creatures of the earth.  We talk a lot about being good stewards of our resources around here.  Usually, that means turning off the lights when they are not in use, not over-using the car when walking will work, not littering, being mindful of our water use, and other such efforts.  Those of us who have lived where deer look at landscaping as a buffet, or experienced the ravages of wild boars, or other clashes with wildlife or even seen the result of their overpopulation, however, can understand how it can be claimed sincerely that hunting is part of our stewardship of the earth.
     Many times over the last dozen years or so, I have spoken with Christians of good conscience who believe the right to bear arms to be unassailable and to those who believe that there should be limits on that right.  In our own congregation, there are a number of individuals who bore arms, and continue so to do, as protectors of our freedom.  Likewise, we have had members of the police force, the fire department, and EMTs who have chosen to carry a weapon, both in the line of duty and out.  Certainly those who served in the military or as first responders represent a selfless sacrifice called for by our Lord.  Indeed, those individuals have been willing to die not just for loved ones, but for total strangers.
     There are, however, a number of people within our faith who take to heart the understanding that, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.  Some even go to the extreme of not worrying too much about theft as the thieves are really stealing from God.  Heck, a couple of those who once protected us now no longer posses any weapons.  Some outside the congregation might be surprised that such radical pacifism exists within an American church, but it has been an honored and accepted position throughout the history of the Church in America.
     So, what’s the answer from the perspective of God?  It being the week of Trinity Sunday, perhaps God’s position would be that we (the Church) have done a bad job of evangelizing the world around us.  I say that in the sense that the world around us is absolutely split, and in some places quite vociferous, about the competing positions.  We seem to be good at doing anything but reflecting the unity of the Godhead.  Do not misunderstand me, I do not think our prayerfully discerned answers rise to the level of affecting our salvation.  We manage to incorporate people who enjoy guns for sport, for provision, and for protection with people who will never accept one in their homes into this parish.  We manage even to incorporate individuals whose positions have reversed at different times in their lives without the call of “hypocrite!” in our life together.  Some have given up guns when children entered the picture or as they aged; others have chosen to arm themselves to protect their children or their loved one as they aged.  Had we as Christians done a better job of growing the kingdom of God in the world around us, though, perhaps people in the world would tolerate the different perspectives as well in the world as we seem to do at St. Alban’s.  Perhaps we would be further along discerning the will and unity of our Lord.
     While I doubt St. Peter will be checking to see whether we possessed an NRA license when we passed from this life into glory, I do think that how we live and how we communicate as this debate rages around us testifies to our personal understanding of our salvation and our freedom.  With one colleague outside our denomination this week I found myself listening to someone who was effectively telling me that our authorities could pry his guns from his cold, dead fingers.  In fairness to him, a member of his church had asked me my opinion about the issue (she wanted to know how many sermons I had preached on gun rights), and, from his perspective, I had left her with questions rather than giving her his answer (that silly red door).  I asked him if that was really his position and what he taught his congregation in the context of the sermon.  When he proudly declared that he did, and I mentioned Jesus’ turning of the other cheek or offering the cloak as well, well, the fight was on!
     As our passionate discussion cooled somewhat over the minutes, I did ask what he and his congregation were trying so desperately to protect.  Essentially, it centered around the American belief in the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  In his mind, any attempt to limit gun access is an attack on those rights.  I did understand that.  Some of you agree with that sentiment.  But as I have asked some of you, I asked him: What is the most important thing that we have as Christians?  Without pausing, he answered the assurance of salvation.  I paused and asked him to pardon me for how this next question was going to sound, but I wanted to know how his boisterous and, at times confrontational, “my church is a fortress of God” and the “cold, dead fingers” represent a people who valued their salvation above all else?
     And there’s our problem as Christians and as Americans in this debate.  As Americans, we are always engaged in that balance between our rights and the rights of others.  When they are seen to infringe upon one another is when we have debates such as those raging about gun control right now.  As Christians, though, we can make the claim that gun ownership can serve a godly purpose.  There is nothing wrong with protecting ourselves or our loved ones.  Assuming all protections are taken, there is nothing unholy about target shooting.  Even hunting can be argued to be supporting our God-given mandate to be stewards of the earth.  We can also make the claim that radical pacifism imitates our Lord’s willingness to accept the judgment of Pilate.  We can choose a path of radical pacifism certain that we will live for eternity with the Lord.  So who is wrong?
     Rather than try to figure out some via media in this discussion, I would like to suggest that our swirling debates do a magnificent job of avoiding the real problem or problems behind the shootings.  Not all, but a number of these shootings seem to involve people in some sort of diminished capacity.  Sometimes, passions and hurts can override judgment.  There is little other than a waiting time that can prevent those tragedies.  But many of the shootings are perpetrated by someone demonstrating or diagnosed with a mental illness.  In our discussions around here, people have often noted that the shooters could not possibly have been in their “right mind” or “off” in order to hurt or kill so many people, especially children.  For several decades now, we as a country have been, in a way, balancing the healthcare cost books on the backs of the mentally ill.  As a pastor who serves the mentally ill, some of whom are members of this parish, I can testify firsthand to the difficulty we have getting care for those who really want it and for those whom we know really need it but do not want it.  In that uniquely American effort to balance the rights of the mentally ill with the rights of those around them, we are much slower to institutionalize or force medications upon some and loathe to extend the help needed to others who recognize the need.  According to the CDC’s own estimates, we now live in an age where fewer than 1/2 of all those who suffer from serious mental illness receive any treatment (http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/hus09.pdf#sthash.OPvY1xb5.dpuf 2011).  More than half!  And while the economy may not be creating many jobs, it seems to be very good at increasing the numbers of those suffering from mental illness.  The most recent study of the link between poverty and mental illness suggests that those living below the poverty line are 3x more likely to suffer from serious mental illness than their counterparts living at 2x the poverty line (http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/hus11.pdf #sthash.OPvY1xb5.dpuf 2012).
     What else does poverty do?  One of the tragic consequences is that it takes away hope.  Ever wondered why God repeatedly reminds His people that He loves the widow, the orphan, the poor, and the marginalized?  Each of those conditions causes a disconnect from society which, among other things, causes them to lose hope.  Once we lose hope, once we become convinced that no one could ever love us, once we become dehumanized in our own minds, there is very little evil that cannot creep into them.
     What about the fact that some of the shooters came from privilege?  I would argue that, in most of those cases, the poverty extends to the family system in which the individuals were raised.  Now, I base this on press reports and interviews of those who purport to “know” the shooters or their families, so it is by no means scientific.  But consider this:  children are more likely than ever in the history of this country not to be raised by both parents; children from this generation are more likely to live in families where both parents (or parent and step-parent) work; children in this generation have been raised, and have witnessed, that marriages and families are as interchangeable as jobs.  To further complicate matters, and to illustrate our conflict of secular rights, how many movies and games express the violence displayed in the actions of these perpetrators?  We pretend as a society to be shocked when a marginalized youth, often left to his own devices for hours at a time, turns to violence.  Through in our culture of fame, where all that matters is that one gets their name in the news cycle, and we have a mucky recipe for disaster.  The combustable fuels are already in place and we pretend to be surprised when the match is lit and causes an explosion.
     So, what is the answer.  If this was as simple as passing a law that restricted gun ownership, those major metropolitan areas that have embraced strict gun laws would stand out as shining examples for us to copy in our approach.  If this was as simple as limiting the types of video games played, some of these tragedies would never have occurred.  Their failure ought to tell us something.  Our responses to tragedies also should inform us a bit.  Why is it we as a society are so shocked at a school shooting but blasé about a teenager’s suicide?  Why is it we as a society are quick to embrace and amazingly vocal in our discussions about gun rights after a tragic shooting, but were we slothfully slow to embrace driving restrictions for those who drank too much alcohol, now use too much legalized marijuana, or even suffer from mental illness?  Why is it, as a society, we agonize over these tragic school shootings in public manners, yet few of us get up in arms when a child is injured or burned in fireworks accidents?  For some reason, society seems only to value certain kinds of deaths, certain kinds of injuries, and certain kinds of loss.
     You and I, of course, serve a God who would draw all to Himself.  We serve a God who knows the outcast teen contemplating horrific acts of violence as well as he knows the teenage girl who wants to make a sacrifice to the Slenderman as well as He knows you or me and as well as He knew David.  No one is beneath His notice.  No one is beyond His love.  Living out that truth is where things get complicated.  Truthfully, I think the daunting scope of the task has paralyzed the Church in the face of the job ahead.  How many of us churches are creating safe spaces of fellowship for our youth?  How many of our youth are inviting those “uncool” kids?  How many of us churches are creating safe places fellowship for single moms or single dads, places where they can express their frustrations and senses of failure or success?  How many of us churches are truly attacking poverty in the location our Lord has planted us?  Do we feed the hungry, do we clothe the poor, do we give hope in time of need, do we share the love and joy of knowing our Redeemer lives and has already prepared a place for us?  How many of us churches speak against those societal ills which dehumanize others?  Once we come to believe that one is truly beneath us, it becomes far more easy to delude ourselves into thinking that many are beneath us.  How many of us churches encourage discussion about contentious issues such as this?  How many of us in the churches directly affected by these tragedies have done critical self-evaluations?  How many of us churches in those affected communities reached out to those impacted by the tragedies?  To those whose family members of shooters who needed to hear that they, too, are loved by God?  How many of us churches actually both to pray to God to end the violence, to protect our youth, and to uphold those on our margins?
     I stated about that we in the Church have done a bad job reflecting the unity and will of our Lord and that we have done a poor job of sharing God’s love.  You and I will have all kinds of opportunities to participate in the public discussions about gun rights and school shootings in the weeks months and years ahead.  I encourage all Christians to participate fully in that process.  But as we engage that process, whatever we think is the solution, let us pray before we speak.  Let us honor our Lord, who went willingly for each one of us to that cross on Calvary.  Gun rights advocates are not by definition war mongers.  Those who want to repeal the Second Amendment are not by definition hippies.  Both those who share our opinions and those who differ from our opinions are as loved by God as we.  Let’s keep that foremost in our minds and, in so doing, honor Him who sends us into the world.
     Let us also remember that all those affected by the tragedies are also loved by God.  Each time a child needlessly lost his or her life, our Lord cried.  Each time a family member blamed himself or herself for the decisions of their loved one, our Lord sought to comfort them.  Each time a social worker or psychiatrist or other blamed themselves for missing a signal, our Lord mourned.  Each time someone blames themselves for not doing enough, our Lord would comfort them.  There is enough blame to go around.  The world will make sure of that.  We need to make sure that the world knows there is far more grace, far more mercy available than blame.  Better yet, the world needs to know that in the midst of death and tragedy, there can still be sung an alleluia.
Peace,

Brian†

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Mutants, and any who would call upon His name . . .

     Father, you have a minute? — The head poked in as I was working on material for our Wednesday Bible study class.
     He came in, plopped down in the chair and asked if I knew what was wrong with his church.  More specifically, he wanted to know if I knew what he could do about his pastor.  Like you are now, I was intrigued.  What could have happened to make him get so upset about his church and pastor?  I soon had my answer.
     So, this weekend, we celebrated the birth of the Church.
     I nodded and told him we did the same.
     He asked how we celebrated it, and I told him that we prayed the Lord’s Prayer in about a dozen languages.  He seemed to think it was acceptable, as they read from the book of Acts this weekend as well.  
     That’s a bit weird, but the Apostles did it, so I guess it’s ok.  Guess what we did.
     I told him I had no idea.  Truthfully, I was surprised that his church had read from Acts on what we call the Feast of Pentecost.  Their service usually consists of only one reading, four or five songs, some extended prayers, and a long sermon.  There is no liturgy and no lectionary.  They have no real understanding of connectedness like we do with dioceses and provinces, and even a worldwide communion.  They pray for the missionaries they sponsor, but (at least this guy) have no understanding of companion dioceses.  They function very much according to the selections of the pastor.
     He talked about the songs and readings and then he got to his problem.  I think our pastor has been waylaid by the Devil.
     Truthfully, I was a bit surprised.  In our “serious discussions” about St. Alban’s and his own church, he had decided we weren’t quite as bad as the Roman Catholics.  Mind you, his church got worship right.  Celebrating the Eucharist, having so many readings, having services with no music, letting non professional clergy be so heavily involved (or, gasp, lead), and using pre-written prayers—those were just some of the examples of our problems.  Having heard the praises of his pastor for a couple years and no hearing him accusing that same pastor of having been possessed was absolutely shocking to me.  So I asked what happened.
     Our pastor preached on comic books.  Can you believe that?  Can you believe what God must be thinking?  We usually do a great job on Sundays, but our pastor used comic books to explain God!
     Before I go any further, let me explain his body language.  He was clearly anguished by what had gone on this past Sunday.  For two years he has politely, but firmly, reminded me how good his pastor is and how good his church is.  Whenever someone comments at meetings about overhearing a Bible Study or trying our church, he seems to be quick to point out to me that those interested in worshiping God ought to be coming to his church.  We are nice enough, but we have some problems, at least in his eyes.  He was so anguished that I could only shrug in silence and wonder.  I wondered if I should really freak him out and talk about my sermons that had used Hellboy or South Park.  Heck, I thought I could ask him if he could think of a good scriptural reference that might make use of the human cent-i-pad.  Part of me figured that I could glide in well below his pastor and make things alright by comparison.  But, as I said, I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that they had celebrated Pentecost.  So I asked which comic book.
     He could not remember which one, but it was the one about the group of heroes.  So, I asked if it was the Avengers (I had to describe the Avengers).  I asked if it was the DC Universe (btw you have not experienced a difficulty in communication until you have had to try and explain the difference between the Marvel and DC Universe to someone unfamiliar and uninterested in comic book lore!).  He decided after a few minutes that those groups were too big, so I tried the Fantastic Four.  Again, they did not ring a bell with him, and I found myself wondering how heretical this sermon must have been if he could not remember the demonic stars of the sermon.
     Frustrated, he explained what he remembered.  These comic book heroes were sometimes united by somebody to fight for America.  Often they fought among themselves.  They had all kinds of problems and wanted nothing better to fit in with regular people, but they were cajoled, pushed, and pleaded by their leader to save the country or world whenever they were needed.  Somehow, someway, my pastor thought this was how God worked with us.
     It was not too difficult, given what he had told me so far, to figure out a better than decent sermon illustration for Pentecost.  So I took the plunge.  I told him that superheroes were certainly good sermon illustrations sometimes.  At times, we want heroes.  We want someone who can do the supernatural, who can right wrongs and protect the weak.  That’s part of the appeal of comic books.  Pastors can certainly use heroes as subjects of comparison and contrast to our Lord.  Pastors can also sometimes use our desire for a hero to point people to our Lord.
     My interloper was was dubious.  We watch superhero movies because we want their powers.  We want to be able to fly like Superman.  We want to be able to reflect bullets or missiles like Ironman.  Heck, we even want their alter egos.  Batman and Ironman are rich as all get out.  That Green Lantern guy flies fighter jets.  They all have wonderful lives.
     “You must not be paying close attention to their stories,” I offered.
     What do you mean?
     “Have you never considered Superman’s loneliness, especially in light of his love for Lois Lane?  And what of Batman’s understanding that he must be a symbol because a man can be corrupted?  Or Ironman’s trying to figure out what all happened in NYC and the night terrors?  Green Lantern is really just a green version of Maverick in Top Gun.  Both are trying to live up to their fathers.  Thor’s love will die in the blink of his eye.  There’s all kinds of issues with these heroes.”
     Are you watching the same movies as I am?
     “I was just wondering the same thing as you described why the movies appeal to us.” I replied laughing.
     You pastors.  I don’t know why you see the world the way you guys do.  Superhero movies are just stories.  They are meant to entertain us.
     “The Gospel is just a story, a love story.  It is meant to remind us that our Father in heaven loves us.  What we are trying to do when we preach each week is to give comfort where it is needed, teaching where it is needed, uncomfortableness where it is needed, and all that with a reminder that God really does love us and want good things for us.”
     Maybe, but using some guy who traded his fingernails for razor blades and is now seeking to find where he belongs?  That just isn’t good for God, and it sure doesn’t reflect kindly on the Apostles.
     “Wolverine and the X-Men,” I announced.
     What?
     “Your pastor preached on Wolverine and the X-Men,”  I stated confidently.
     You know the story?
     “Some.  I was never into X-Men like I was some of the other heroes, but, thinking about it . . . X-Men is a perfect modern illustration for the coming of the Holy Spirit and empowering of the Church.”
     Seriously?  You think my pastor was ok to do this?
     “OK?  It’s kind of a brilliant use of stuff in the news.  He is trying to explain what is going on in Acts using the movie series or the movie out in theaters now.  Good preachers have the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other.”
     So, you think you could use this, what did you call him?
     “The guy with the razor blades is called Wolverine.  The whole group of mutants is called the X-Men.  And, yes, like I said, it could be a good sermon illustration.  I think it could give several illustrations.  I’d have to read up on the lore a bit more, but yeah, I think it works.”
     How do you figure?
     “One, they are all mutants.  Each has been given a special power or ability.  Storm controls the weather.  The cyclops dude shoots a laser beam out of his eye.  One girl sucks the life out of those whom she touches.  Magneto manipulates metal.  Some go invisible.  Some change colors.  The list is pretty long, but I do not know all their names.”
     How is that like Acts?
     “Each of us, by virtue of our baptism into Christ’s death and Resurrection is promised at least a gift of the Holy Spirit.”  Now, admittedly, I had to explain some of what goes on when we are baptized.  He just thought it was forgiveness of sins and assurance of eternal life.  I pointed out how each of those present spoke in a different language, in fulfillment of Joel’s prophesy.  As far as I know, no two mutants were alike either.  “But the story of the X-Men lends itself to several facets of the coming of the Holy Spirit, not just the powers.  Most just want to be “normal,” to blend in with humans.  All face scorn because of their identity.  Some are rejected by their families.  And most, if not all, have to be convinced by their leader that they must help those who scorn them.  Sound familiar?”
     A bit.
     “They are, of course, always in the minority.  The father figure, though I have a hard time seeing him off the bridge of the starship enterprise (he did not get the Picard reference at all), is the one responsible for trying to order them and their talents for good, for creating a sense of belonging between them all, and for directing the battle against evil.  This ringing a bell?”
     He nodded.
     “Plus,” I went on, “we could preach on the whole idea that we are mutants.”
     How so?
     “God created us, male and female, good.  Then what happened?”
     Even and Adam sinned.
     “Right!  And we lost that relationship with God.  We marred the beauty and good with which He created us.  You might say we mutated a bit.  Now, God is trying to draw us back into right relationship with Him.  He is offering the love we seek.  He is offering the peace that we seek.  He is offering the hope we want.  Yeah, the X-Men would work just fine.  For all their superpowers, the X-Men all have the same anxieties as you and me and the Apostles.  Remember, that wonderful story you heard this weekend, it was mostly about fishermen from Galilee.  It would be the modern equivalent of a hillbilly or redneck standing up and speaking with authority in DC, telling Congress and the President what the Founding Fathers meant or wanted.”
     We laughed at that, me more so because he had no idea I was from West Virginia and have been known to take a couple politicians to task.
     “But that idea of a mutant goes further.  How many people meet Christ and then want nothing more than to go back to their old way of life, of blending in with the world?”
     The parable of the seeds on the path and rocks and soil?
     “Yes.”
     I guess I never really thought about superheroes the way you do.  
     So, you don’t think the Devil has gotten control of my pastor?
     “I have no idea.  I did not hear the sermon; I only heard what you told me.  I have only met your pastor a couple times, and I would never claim to know him well.  He seems nice enough, but I got enough to worry about around here without sticking my nose in his business.  You have always told me how much better your church is than mine, so I have always assumed you judged him a better Christian than me.  If you are asking me if one can preach on the X-Men and not offend God, then I would say absolutely.  And, in case you think I was heretical, you recognized much of the story from your study of the Bible.  So, if I am heretical, you may not be too far behind.”
     I won’t say he went away happy.  I would say he is not as convinced that his pastor was possessed, or maybe he just thinks the same demon got us both.  We celebrated this week the Feast of Pentecost.  Churches around the world read the story from Acts and reminded themselves of the gift of tongues.  We at St. Alban’s even had parishioners praying the Lord’s Prayer in about a dozen languages.  A lot of time, churches misplace their emphasis on the gift of tongues, as if gifts of the Holy Spirit are rankable.  In some places, tongues are considered the single proof of the presence of the Holy Spirit.  My conversation with this particular gentleman reminded me, however, that the gift of tongues extends far beyond mere languages.  Each of us gathered here this week possess unique backgrounds, unique interests, unique passions, and a different circle of friends and family.  Each of us has been uniquely prepared for the work God has given us to do.  Sometimes, that work requires that we speak into the “tongues” of others.  I think, given our friend’s discomfort, that is precisely what that other pastor was doing.
     Jesus told a lot of farming and fishing stories.  Why?  That was the people with whom He was working.  You and I, however, have a different audience.  We may share some of the agrarian background that our counterparts of two thousand years ago, but there are new illustrations, new methodologies, and even new scales or size of farming.  Similarly, there are even new languages for which you and I have been trained as translators.  Ever read a youth’s text?  Ever read a text sent to yourself?  Ever pay attention to Facebook?  To Twitter and its 140 characters?  How about Instagram?  Perhaps I am already years behind the curve where you have gone ahead.
     One of the amazing joys of Pentecost is that God has promised to equip you with whatever you need to glorify Him.  He has already given you the gift of understanding and speaking within the mission field in which He has planted you.  Look around.  Some of us speak the military language of honor, duty, and courage with authority.  Some of us speak as teachers or instructors.  Some of us speak as fans of music or film.  Others of us speak as knitters or sports fans or cooks.  Some of us speak like those with a little more seasoning under our belts.  Some of us speak with the enthusiasm of youth.  Each one of us, though, has been prepared and anointed for a task not unlike that which we have read in Acts this week.  Each of us has been given a voice and a shared experience to witness to others in our lives the saving grace and love of God.
     We rightly spend a lot of time discussing our need of a Savior.  As I shared with my visitor, we all recognize on some level that we are mutants, that we are marred by our sins.  We are all, on varying levels, Prodigal Sons and Prodigal Daughters.  The promise of Pentecost, brothers and sisters, is that we are already redeemed and already part of a kingdom far more encompassing that those Apostles could ever have imagined.  You and I and all who call upon the name of the Lord are already redeemed.  These gifts which the Holy Spirit bestows upon us are like the pledge of the Eucharist.  How do I know I am His?  One way is by recognizing His gifts in our lives.  As we grow in our relationship with Him, everything about us is transformed.  We begin to see with His eyes, hear with His ears, understand and will with His heart, and even to speak with His voice.  The human being cannot help but be transformed by an encounter with the Living God.  As our remembrance of this day reminds us, we cannot help but be filled with awe and wonder and joy.  We cannot help but express the mundane in ways that praise the redeeming Lord.  That expression is the ultimate fruit of the Spirit’s gifts.
     Brothers and sisters, I cannot begin to speak to all the Spirit’s gifts in your lives in just a few minutes.  Having travelled with you now for eight years, I have learned many of your stories.  I have listened as you have shared, as you have suffered, as you have celebrated, and as you have questioned.  Best of all, I have heard that joy of the redeemed in your voices.  Pentecost is that time when we remind ourselves that the world needs to hear our voices and our stories and the hope He offers.  The world needs to hear that there is a home prepared for all mutants who love Him.  Amazingly, He has chosen you and me to be one of those heralds of His grace.  Pray that each of us embraces the tongue He has given us and proclaims His wondrous deeds in our lives!
Peace,

Brian†

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Suffering and suffering . . .

     I had intended this week to be like nearly everyone else who is using the RCL to preach on the idea of Christian Unity.  I settled on that Monday of this week and was sort of excited that we would have an interesting twist to the discussion.  I expected that we would be able to discuss how Jesus’ prayer for our unity has not been answered even within this parish in this particular denomination.  Because it was Youth Sunday and because we were expecting some visitors, I expected to have people in church this am from TEC, from ACNA, and from the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina.  Forget the sheer number of denominational expressions out there.  Three different testimonies from within one denomination that Jesus’ prayer for us has not been answered.  That is a pastoral problem of some significance, is it not?  We were going to be chewing through some theological steak, rather than milk and gruel.
     Alas, my mind was changed as I slipped into the office earlier this week.  I had a few opportunities to sneak in and out and do some work as we worked our way through promotion and graduation week in the McVey household.  During one of my drop-in’s, a gentleman left the AA meeting and came to see me.  He wanted to know if I had a moment.  I invited him into my office and we began to talk.  “Jim” sat down next to the picnic basket and began to share how his life was a mess.  Truthfully, the story was not that unusual.  His wife had finally had it up to here and kicked him out of the house.  She was tired of the cost of his drinking.  He had forgotten to pick up his kids from school events because he was more interested in the bars than what his kids were doing.  He had spent the family into economic hardship.  They were by no means rich, but his drinking meant that bills went unpaid.  His parents had basically disowned him.  Her parents had been encouraging her to leave him for some time — in truth, he blamed them more than his drinking for the upcoming divorce.  His drinking had cost him a couple jobs.  He was proud that he had never been drunk on the job, but he had overslept a few times and been sluggish because of hangovers.  Friends and family had encouraged him for years to get help, but he thought he had it under control.  It was only when she told him she wanted the divorce and kicked him out that he realized he had hit bottom.
     Whether he has hit bottom yet is up for debate.  Over the last few years I have seen too many people swear they are going to get sober when a spouse or significant other left them.  I do not know that any have successfully gotten sober.  I asked Jim what I could do for him, other than pray.  He wanted to know if I could talk to his wife and to him.  There are Baptists and Roman Catholic and Methodists in this AA group and they all told Jim that I do a decent job of discussing God in their own language.  Jim laughed that if I could get that ragtag group to agree on something, well maybe I could help him.  When I asked what church he and his wife attended, he confessed that they did not attend.  When I asked what church they had attended as youths, he knew his denomination but not that of his wife.  I told him that I was willing to meet with his wife and him, but that I doubted it would do much good.  He was, understandably, crushed.  I told him I thought his wife was doing the best she could to protect the children and herself.  I asked him how many times had she heard this was it for the drinking come out of his mouth?  Jim said lots and lots.  Why should she expect this time to be any different than those before?  He had no answer but tears.
     We spent probably 20 minutes or so talking about the reasons he had given her not to believe he would ever quit drinking.  There had been an emotional cost and a financial cost to his drinking.  Somehow, he had avoided the legal costs.  I suggested to Jim that the best way to convince his wife that this was different was to work on himself.  “Maybe if you managed to get and stay sober and to deal with those issues which led to your drinking, she might see the Jim she fell in love with so long ago and cancel the divorce.  But you have to want to do this for yourself, first.  Doing it for your wife and kids has not worked out for you in the past.”  Jim said I was echoing the same thoughts as those in this meeting and at others around the Quad-Cities.  “Maybe you should think about listening to those who have walked your path before you.”
     “I just wanted you, you know, to say a magic prayer and make everything alright.”  I told him that God sometimes acts quickly and decisively like that, but usually one has to be truly penitent and contrite.  And even then, it has been my experience that the Lord works over time.  We talked a bit more and then I offered to pray for him.  He thanked me as he rose and headed back to his meeting.  As he was drifting out the door, he said I guess I’ll just have to wait and see how this suffering is in God’s plan.  
     “I beg your pardon?” I asked as he worked to get back to his meeting.
     You know, God makes us suffer as part of His plan.  That’s how we know we are His children, because we we suffer.
     “Who told you that?” I asked.
     I don’t really know.  I just remember sitting in church as a kid and hearing the preacher tell me that whenever I suffered, it was part of God’s plan.
     I invited him to return to the chair.  “Remember when I explained that you and your wife and I spoke a different vocabulary, that I took for granted some things about God and His call on His disciples than you two probably did?”  He nodded.  “This is one of those biggies.”  What followed was basically a discussion about suffering.  Since Peter’s letter dealt with the fiery ordeal, I even had an Order of Worship for Jim to use.  I won’t go into much more detail, for fear of putting you to sleep.  Suffice it to say, Jim left understanding that God did not intend for us to suffer and that suffering itself needed to be discerned, before we take any comfort in it.
     One of the significant questions which plague disciples of Christ is the nature of suffering.  Why is it happening to me?  What purpose does it serve?  How can my suffering ever be redeemed?  We have talked at times how some Christians do a disservice to people by representing that believers have no problems, no issues, no sufferings in their lives.  New converts realize such an understanding is a lie, often fairly quickly after their conversion.  When they realize that they still have problems, they often decide the Christian was full of crap and fall quickly away.  We do an equally bad job for Christians, and moreso for those who watch such Christians in their lives, when we equate their suffering with God’s plan.  Ever heard that type of sentiment expressed?  I am so sorry for your loss, but God just needed another angel.  I am so sorry for your miscarriage, but you just need to trust this was part of God’s plan.  I am so sorry for your job loss, but God gave you this for a reason.  I am so sorry for your cancer, but God never gives you more than you can handle.  I tell you all, as a pastor, that makes me want to scream as much as the pollyannish version of the Gospel.
     Think about the God we are describing when we say such things.  God needs another servant.  God wants you to feel His pain over losing a child.  God wanted you stressed about provision.  God wanted you crushed.  They are horrible, unworthy sentiments.  If you are accustomed to saying such nonsense outside my hearing, stop now.  Don’t.  Do your loved one and God a favor and zip it.
     Peter, in his letter, is addressing a congregation that is undergoing suffering.  Their suffering was, likely, similar to our own.  Certainly, some were worried about provision.  Others were likely worried about health.  Maybe some were worried about family members or loved ones in the legion.  Unlike us, all were worried that their neighbors or co-workers or customers might discover they were Christian.  Such a discovery could lead to forfeiture, enslavement, and even death.  Probably, they had relationship issues.  Maybe their were some who even suffered from addictions.  They likely came to church with the same burdens and loads with which we come to church or with which those who come to this building seeking deliverance from addiction.
    Suffering in the Bible is described generally in one of two ways.  There is the suffering that God allows us to experience because of our sins, and there are sufferings that God allows us to experience because it serves His redemptive purposes.  The key to understanding the place of suffering in Peter’s teaching and in the life of the disciple is in that little phrase “insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings.”  All of us suffer in life.  The key is figuring out whether our suffering is redemptive or consequential.  Put in our language, the key to figuring out our suffering is discernment.
     For the gentleman who came into my office this week, his suffering was not redemptive.  He walked away from God.  He chose alcohol over our Lord’s love and mercy.  He cheated on his wife.  He chose to drink rather than work properly for at least two employers.  He abandoned his kids emotionally and, at least a couple times, physically by not keeping his responsibilities.  He lied to his wife, his parents, her parents, and who knows who else.  The suffering he is experiencing this week is not a sharing in Christ’s sufferings.  These are some of the consequences of his behavior; these are some of the consequences of his sins.  God never wanted him to abandon his wife, abandon his children, walk apart from Him, and pretty much let alcohol destroy all that he valued.  Our Lord only wanted good for Jim, but Jim chose poorly.  He chose to do things his way rather than God’s.  We should mourn with Jim.  We should be empathetic to Jim and others like him.  But we should never suggest that God wanted him or them to do this kind of stuff and experience the consequences of their sins.  We should never let them absolve themselves of the consequences because God dishes out tons of suffering to teach us a lesson.  God often does let us experience the consequences of our sins because, quite frankly, that is the only way we ever seem to learn.  But even when He allows the consequences to bear fruit in our lives, His grace often prevents us from experiencing the full fruit of our sins.  Jim is rightfully hurting right now, but I think God’s grace has been at work in his life.  His liver seems fully functional.  He has managed to avoid killing people despite a habit of drunk driving.  His wife has done a remarkable job with the kids.  Things could have been way worse.
     I cannot begin to list the suffering that many of us here today have experienced because of our own sins.  But many of us have had these talks.  Like Jim, some of us understand the consequences of addiction or of divorce.  Some of us have experienced the consequences of “impulse buying” on credit.  Some of us have experienced the health consequences of not taking care of our physical bodies, even though we proclaim it is our temple for God.  Some of us have earned the distrust of others through lying, stealing, abuse, and the like.  Others of us have earned anything but respect by being snarky, rather than edifying, to others.  Some of us have earned enmity within our families because we have not protected our children the way Jim’s wife tried.  Our list goes on and on.  We know our failures and the consequence of them.
     Contrast those against what Peter is describing here, the “sharing in Christ’s sufferings.”  Our Lord suffered despite never sinning.  Jesus hints at the glory which He set aside to come down from heaven in our reading from John today.  Can you imagine giving up such a magnificent existence?  Jesus was slapped and spit upon and had His beard pulled out by the whiskers despite never mocking another human being or showing them anything but His love of the Father.  Can you imagine being teased for doing that which you were called to do?  He was put to death on a cross for our sins, despite never once sinning Himself.  Can you imagine the love He must have felt for each of us to be willing to face such a death?  Jesus is the ultimate suffering servant of God found in Isaiah.
     As men and women and boys and girls redeemed by Him and sharing in His eternal inheritance, we ought not be too surprised to find ourselves sharing in His ministry here on earth.  Sometimes, we as Christians, suffer because our faith in God through the Lord Jesus Christ.  Think of the suffering of that Sudanese woman and her family.  Her Muslim father abandons her as a baby, and she gets the death sentence, after having her marriage annulled,  for being raised as a Christian and, in turn, raising her children as Christian.  Of course, in a wonderful show of mercy, they “allowed” her to give birth, with her legs shackled, before they imposed the sentence on her.  Think of the girls kidnapped by Boko Haram in Nigeria and sold as child brides to “good Muslim husbands.”  The group reportedly targeted the girls because they were Christians being educated by Christians.  They did nothing wrong other than go to school.  What about the gentleman in the Iranian prison?  What of the villagers in Sierra Leone?  What of our Coptic brothers and sisters in Egypt who, because of what we call the “Arab Spring,” face eviction and death threats on a repeated basis?  See the difference?  They are suffering simply because they try to follow the Lord Christ.  Their suffering is the suffering of the Servant of God.
     Just as we experience consequences of our own sins, we sometimes experience the suffering of the Suffering Servant.  Some of us have been denied promotions or employment simply because of our faith.  Some of us have been mocked and ridiculed specifically because of our faith.  Sometimes we get the cancers even though we did not smoke or pollute.  Sometimes we bear the physical results of a crash even though we did not run the red light.  Sometimes those in rebellion against God pervert justice and use the tools of justice to enforce unjust and unrighteous laws.  It happens.  God’s Enemy and enemies are always looking to lead us away.  The world is always rebelling against its Creator.  And when that Christ-like suffering occurs, Peter reminds us that we are sharing in Christ’s ministry just as we will, one day, share in His eternal glory!  One day, one magnificent day in the future when He fully reveals His glory. God will exalt all His children, just as He has exalted our Lord now!  Can you imagine?  And a sign that you are to share in that glory is the Christ-like suffering you experience on earth.  What an amazing idea!  What an incredible promise!
     And, just to remind us that this is a Gospel we proclaim, that we are heralds of great news, we can even ask God to use the consequences of our sins to His glory and the welfare of others.  Had I left you or Jim wallowing in your own consequences, I would not be sharing in His ministry.  You see, all God requires of us is to repent of our sins, truly, seriously repent.  And just like that, even the consequences of our sins are transformed.  The punishment that we should have born is taken on that Cross for our sakes, and we are set free to minister in His Name!  We are empowered to become heralds of His Gospel that all those around us might be drawn into His saving embrace.
     How do we know this to be true?  Jesus beseeches of His Father in heaven to allow us to glorify Him, that the Father may, too, be glorified in us.  Can you imagine?  Just before He began that walk to Calvary, our Lord prayed to the Father in heaven that we might shared in His purposes.  Better still, that we would not fail, He promised us the coming of the Holy Comforter.  And don’t misunderstand what Jesus meant by the Comforter.  Jim made that mistake earlier this week.  When I told Him that all he needed to do to get right with God was to repent, he could not bring himself to believe.  When I assured him, as I am assuring each of you this day, that God sends the Holy Spirit to comfort us during these times of trials, he so wanted to believe he was loved.  I might be too far gone, Father.  
     “BS,” I said.  “You ever cheer as a deacon was put to death?”
     No.
     “You ever try and seize the property or imprison those who follow this Resurrected Jesus?”
     No.
      “Then you have not yet hit the lows of St. Paul.  And if God can use him despite all that Paul did, just imagine what He can do with you.”
      I ask the same questions of you, brothers and sisters.  If you find yourself sympathizing with Jim’s feeling of unworth and disbelief, remember those sitting around you, those who have come before you, and all those with whom we will one day spend all eternity glorifying God.  Jesus’ family is full of outcasts, foreigners, black sheep, and other unsavory characters.  Each, though, in his own or her own way, though, has been redeemed by their Lord and empowered to do His will simply because they humbled themselves and repented.  More amazingly, He has even offered to take the consequences of our sins upon Himself.  What we should be suffering through serious fault of our own, He promises to redeem.  Yes, there still may be pain.  Yes, there still may be hurt.  But the suffering is transformed by our Lord into a testimony for His glory.  That is His promise!  That is part of the glory of which we are promised a first-born’s share.  

Peace,

Brian†