On Mary Clyde and He who gives meaning to our suffering . . .

      Before I get started trying to summarize Mary Clyde in a homily, I do want to take a moment and thank each of you for attending.  If you find the service is hitting you “just right” or reminding you of things about God that you needed, you should know that Mary Clyde meticulously planned this service once she made the decision to stop fighting the infection.  There are likely one or two things in here for each and every one of us in attendance, and that was intentional on Mary Clyde’s part.  For me, of course, she gave a wonderful slow arcing softball pitch right over home plate by choosing Job as one of her readings.  Many of you present do not know it, by I did a MA in religion on the book of Job.  Mary Clyde knew it, and she knew that reading and Psalm 46, in particular, would speak to those who are struggling with the seeming injustice of her death, those who are railing against God that it was a secondary infection that took her rather than the cancer.

     Of course, even as she was choosing Job to make things easy for me, she had to goon me from the grave.  Mary Clyde served on Liturgy & Worship at Advent for almost forever.  She knew how mad I get at lectionary editors for cutting and carving out of pericopes in the Scriptures.  So, what did she do?  She chose a recommended reading from Romans that has two or three sections cut out of it!  Like the Gospel lesson she chose, the passage reminds us of God’s glorious covenant He swears with those who call upon His Name, that not even death can keep God from fulfilling all the promises He has made to us.  There were a million other NT readings that teach the same, but she wanted to cut up a passage for us!

     Her musical choice was likewise intentional.  The songs are all songs she liked to sing and to hear sung, but they also carry deep meaning for those who stand at the grave of a loved one, making alleluias.  And because many of you are not Episcopalians and do not know the right tunes for some of the songs she chose, her brothers and sisters in the choir agreed to sing during the summer recess, to help make sure another version of the hymn did not accidentally get sung!

     Good.  You are mostly laughing.  I cannot say I am at all surprised.  This morning, as I was talking with a couple people over in the parish hall during the visitation, I called Mary Clyde a character.  One of those in conversation with me loved that description of her.  Everybody had a fun story or three to tell about Mary Clyde, and her range of friends covered amateur geologists to stampers, those who worked in government to those who try to encourage us to read.  And let’s be real.  Despite the various ways in which we came to know Mary Clyde and regardless of whether we are even Christian, was anybody really surprised to see knights with copes and swords standing guard over her body this morning?  And we have not even started talking about chickens and Cursillo.  More than one of you have mentioned how you will never be able to look at chickens the same way ever again.

     We are laughing, and that is a good thing.  I do not want to diminish the grief that we will all feel at her absence.  As events and life goes on, all of us gathered will think on her, miss her, maybe wonder how she would have livened things up.  It is appropriate that we mourn her death and miss her presence.

     But, as one self-described lapsed Christian confessed a few days before she finally succumbed to the infection, May Clyde had an infectious joy.  Mary Clyde was the kind of Christian you liked to hang out with.  She was silly.  She was fun loving.  She had what I call a healthy charism of sarcasm, though there are those who disagree with my personal esteem of sarcasm.  I would like to say one wonders, but I don’t really wonder.  If more Christians lived as if they were free, as their Father in heaven claims, how many more Christians would there be in the world?  Part of Mary Clyde’s testimony was to remind people of the joy, the laughter, the silliness of being saved by Christ Jesus.  So many of our brothers and sisters are so serious, and live as if they cannot accept the joy, and in so doing become those who off-put others from following God.  In some ways, her life was a testimony of the joy we should all have, even in the face of death.

     I took the low-hanging fruit that Mary Clyde offered today and decided to have us all hang out in the story of Job.  Many of us know the story of Job well enough to know that Job is a righteous man who suffers at the hand of Satan.  Satan takes Job’s family, Job’s wealth, and even Job’s health, but none of Satan’s works cause Job to sin, to turn from God.  It was a book that was composed, in part, to instruct all humanity that life does not work the way we think they should.  In the Church, or in any of God’s people, we like to believe that God blesses His chosen people and accurses the wicked, right?  The big question becomes “who are His people?”  We Christians are too quick to forget that God calls His people and equips them to be a blessing to the world.  Worse, too many of us forget that the way to glory and blessing is through suffering and the Cross.  We want desperately to get to the end, the glory and blessing, but we forget the sufferings that help shape our understandings of God, sufferings that teach us both of God’s faithfulness and God’s ability and willingness to redeem all things.  Job’s story exists to challenge some of our assumptions.

     Close readers of the story know that the beginning of the narrative begins in the heavenly council.  God asks Satan in front of other heavenly beings where he has been.  Satan answers that he has been walk to and fro’ all over the earth.  God points out His faithful servant Job.  Satan dismisses Job’s faithfulness as a consequence of blessing or divine favor in front of the council.  God says Job is truly faithful.  Satan asks for and receives permission to test God’s assertion.

     Those of us who read the story for the first time might be shocked that there is a heavenly council.  Who gets to attend?  Why is Satan allowed in a heavenly council?  Is it just the Trinity being described as a council?  Are the angels and archangels in attendance?  What’s going on?  It makes us uncomfortable in the twentieth century to take a claim seriously, right?  A heavenly council!  Those outside the Church like to claim that gods and goddesses are myths, made up stories for people who cannot understand events in the world.  Christians are quick to remind us that there is only one God, that idols are false and powerless.  Yet here is Scripture treating these other figures, powers and principalities perhaps, as real figures.

     Those of us who pay attention to the world know lots of people who worship false gods, though.  America, in most corners, worships mammon, right?  Oh, we call mammon by a new name, capitalism.  We dress him up a bit.  But the effect is the same.  And we even go so far as to convince one another that capitalism is a merit-based god.  He rewards us based on are hard work or ingenuity or other esteemed qualities, right?  We do not like to acknowledge in America that luck and privilege play a big role in blessing.  We do not like to admit in our country that we practice corporate welfare, rather than real capitalism, because we bail out those companies failing in our midst even as we let those unfavored “others” suffer.

     Whether capitalism is a “real” god or not, many Americans treat capitalism as real.  Americans and other nationalities treat any number of gods as if they are real.  Our “worship” of these false gods and goddesses affects the lives are those around us in our cities, states, country, and the world.  So, we should not be shocked that God treats these gods and goddesses as if they seek to draw people from Him.

     Our passage picks up after Job has lost his family, his wealth, and his health.  He has lost even more, though, as has become apparent in these last few passages of the book named after him.  His “friends,” have become adversaries; Job is no longer an honored friend in their eyes.  Because Job has lost everything, they are certain God is mad at Job now; they are certain that Job is accursed by God.  They encourage Job to repent.  And when Job insists that he has done nothing wrong, they get serious in their attempts to get him see his error.  Because Job is accursed and suffering, Job is clearly unrighteous.  His insistence that he has done nothing wrong simply confirms their opinion.  A few weeks before our story, those friends would have taken Job’s claims seriously because his circumstance was so different.  Now?  We would say that Job has lost even his honored place among his friends. 

     Job recognizes that his friends are not really supporting him.  Like God, he complains, they are not satisfied with his flesh.  Then comes the beginning of the beauty in the book of Job.  Job longs for an advocate, a vindicator.  Job knows he has done nothing to merit these curses in life.  He has continued to be faithful to God, in spite of his wife’s advice.  He longs for someone, anyone to take up his case before the heavenly throne.  Crazily, despite circumstances to the contrary, Job knows his vindicator lives and will stand upon the earth.  Even more strange to our ears, Job announces that even after his skin has been destroyed, he will see God in his flesh.  How can Job see God in his flesh, if his flesh is destroyed?

     One of the great subtle beauties of the book of Job is that it addresses the seeming discontinuity of the world.  Often, the righteous really do suffer; often, the wicked seem to be blessed.  When we begin to notice such things, we struggle to reconcile what we know about God with what we observe.  For example, a number of you came in or called to speak about Mary Clyde and what was happening.  A number of you railed at the injustice that she was likely dying because of bad care, of a secondary infection, rather than the cancer.  If God is good and all powerful, why did He not cure the infection, too?  If God loves us, or notices us at all, why would He allow her to die in this way?  Where is the justice in her death?  Where is God’s love in her death?

     I see some squirming, so let’s address that right now.  God teaches us in Scripture that imprecations are not sins.  We can hurl accusations at Him.  We can complain that He seems asleep at the wheel or unmoved or distant.  We can acknowledge that our circumstances do not reflect the promises that He has made to us, and such complaints are not sins.  In fact, such complaining is entering into a more mature relationship with our Father in heaven.  We want to understand why things are the way they are; we want to know His perspective on perceived evils in our life; we want to know He truly loves us.  We want to know that God is unlike the powers and principalities and idols worshipped by others.  We want to know He is real and that His promises are sure!  And so He teaches us to notice such things and how to seek Him in the midst of such sufferings.

      One of the buried treasures in Job is the polemic against these false gods worshipped in the world.  It is a subtle, but powerful polemic.  In some ways, the polemic is best captured by the Name of God in the mouths of the speakers in this book.  For Job’s part, God is really only called by two names.  The first Name of God used by Job in his discussions with his friends is the covenantal Name Yahweh.  Most often, we in English translate that name as LORD.  The Name captures the understanding that God will be honored when we are honored and dishonored when we are dishonored.  It also captures that reminder that you and I who claim to be among God’s people are called to honor God in our lives.  What we do honors or dishonors Him.  As our LORD, we are called always to honor Him, and repent when we sin.

      The other name used by Job as the word Eloah.  In a simple understanding, it is the singular of the plural name for gods, Elohim.  Eloah is used less than sixty times in the Hebrew, and almost ¾’s of the times the name is used in the OT occur in this book!  What is going on in the use of the names by Job is this interesting back and forth between LORD and THE God.  If we think about it for a second, it makes sense.  Job is the one who accepts God’s blessings and God’s seeming curses and does not sin.  His friends have this understanding of God as one in control or creating, but not with them as they go about their daily life and work.  They use other, what you and I call less relational names, to describe God.  Job wants an Advocate to argue before God, because he knows he is faithful.  His friends think he is crazy to think that God would allow unjust suffering in His Creation, let alone care were it shown to exist.  All of this, of course, is taking place long before the work and person of Jesus of Nazareth.  Somehow, long before the shadow of the Cross will be cast upon earth, Job knows that he needs God to stand before God to make his case, that somehow he will see God even after his skin is destroyed.  Job does not one of the minor members of the heavenly council to represent him.  In fact, Job is certain that, even after death, God will represent and vindicate him!

     For his part, Job is vindicated by the end of the book.  God appears in the whirlwind and tells the friends that Job has spoken of Him correctly.  He tells them that only if Job intercedes for them will He spare their lives.  Can you imagine the collective gulp of the friends?  Here you have been trying to defend God, and God tells you you’re a dead man unless your friend, whom you have been accusing, makes intercession on your behalf!  Luckily for them, Job is a righteous man and friend; he makes the intercession on their behalf.

      Part of the reason, I think, we Christians avoid this book so much is that we like things neat and tidy.  We want to believe that God blesses the righteous and curses the wicked.  We want to believe that the world works in a predictable order.  The problem, of course, is that the world does work in a predictable order, just not an order we want or like.  The world almost always chooses darkness rather than the light.  The world prefers chaos over order.  And we all want to believe that we can sneak things past our Father in heaven, that we can get away with any number of sins as He is monitoring the planets in their orbits or calamities affecting people.

     The great news, the Gospel news and reminder, of course, is that God always notices.  God knows what is happening to each and every single person on earth at any given instant.  He knows that much of the suffering on earth is a direct result of our sinful behavior and attitudes, our unwillingness to live as if we believe He notices or cares.  But even though we often deserve our sufferings, He was not willing to leave us without hope.  He sent His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, not just to be an atonement for sin but a pattern of holy living, as our Collect this week reminds us all.  And because Jesus was faithful, we have hope.  Because Jesus trusted the will of the Father in spite of His life’s circumstances, we get to realize the fulfilment of Job’s desire.  We know that God Himself is that Advocate who places Himself between the judgement we deserve and the hope all humanity should desire.  And because we know God has acted in Christ Jesus, we, like Mary Clyde and all those saints who came before us, are free!  We and they are able to celebrate with joy, the certainty of our redemption.  That God who bound Himself in honor to His people continues so to bind Himself today.  Because Mary Clyde was His daughter in baptism, we know that she will see Him in the her flesh as a friend.  Better still, as she reminded each one of us in her life and even in her death, that same opportunity is promised to each of us who call upon His Name.  Best of all, we fully understand how God used this seemingly cruel or senseless death for his redemptive promises, and how Mary Clyde willing bore that cross given her, trusting in His redemptive power.

     Today, though, may not be that day.  I get how the ending is, for now, unsatisfactory.  I understand why we hate the way her story looks today.  I am certain she chose Job for that reason, too.  After God has told Job to gird up his loins and contend with God, and after Job has made intercession on behalf of his friends, and after Job has been doubly blessed by God with riches and family, we are left with an uncomfortable situation.  Job never learns why he suffered.  God never tells Job that he suffered because Satan was convinced it was the blessings that Job loved, and not God.  We, the readers and the hearers, know the story.  But Job lives the rest of his life unaware of the cosmic battle that has played out in his life.  Because we are in Mary Clyde’s story, we may not know all the why’s?  We certainly will not know all the ways in which God used her suffering to reach others.  But because He was with her in her suffering, and because He bound Himself to her in her baptism, we know that God Himself will vindicate her!  Were this the end of her story, He would be dishonored.

     One glorious Day, however, God will cause all who ridicule her faithfulness, who scoff at her joy, who pity her circumstance as foolishness, to acknowledge her before her Lord, a faithful daughter who sought only to glorify Him in her life and who, when she screwed up, repented and tried again.  That was His promise to her and His promise to all who choose to enter into relationship with Him through the waters of baptism.  Mary Clyde understood that God was serious when He proclaimed that we are buried in Christ’s death.  She understood that God uses the suffering of His servants to reach others just as He used the suffering of His only Son to redeem the world.  She faced her death as one confident and hopeful that she would share in His Resurrection, and that all of this would be given meaning by the One who called her to new life.

     In the weeks and months to come, my friends, we will all have opportunity to reflect on her life and death.  We will all likely be given some insight as to how God used her suffering to reach others.  My prayer for us, though, is that perhaps we pay a bit more attention to her joy and her character, that we embrace the joy and freedom to which our Lord calls each of us.  Maybe the best way we can honor Him, and in so doing honor her, live as if we know our Redeemer lives and that we, too, one day, will see Him face to face, as our friend and our Eloah!

 

In His Peace,

Brian†

Sent out into the chaos . . .

      I had intended to preach on dysfunction families, and especially spoiled brats, from today’s lesson in Genesis and on Jacob’s children.  I really enjoy this section in Genesis, and not just because I am the older brother like Reuben.  Adventers will come in to share their family dysfunctions, and, unsurprisingly, some will complain about their spoiled brat of a younger sister or brother.  I am always sympathetic because I have a younger sister.  I would describe her behavior as a brat; she would have a different perspective.  Good.  You are laughing.  Why not!  I mean, if we cannot laugh at ourselves, think of all the humor on which we miss out!

     Most Adventers do not read this story any more than they do the other stories of the dysfunctional holy family, you know, Jesus’ great great grandparents and aunts and uncles.  But it is here, and it serves as a great reminder that God can redeem bratty younger siblings as well as conniving older siblings, right?  Some rabbis in antiquity referred to this as the redemption arc of Reuben rather than the story of Joseph.  Reuben goes from our story today to a man who is willing to lay down his life for his younger brother, Benjamin.  Of course, he decides later to sleep with Jacob’s concubine, Bilhah, and earns a terrible consequence.  No longer is he given the inheritance of a firstborn son.  Judah gains the inheritance to which Reuben was born.  In fact, the only two significant figures from Scripture to come from his tribe, Dathan and Abiram, are famous for plotting against Moses.  It’s not exactly the fame one would want.  And, as a further sign of his descendants’ willingness to stray from God and the Covenant, they choose to settle in land on the other side of the Jordan.

     Looking at faces, I can see some of you do not know these stories.  Ah, well, they will come up again in six years’ time, unless someone changes the lectionary again.  Just remember that God can change even spoiled brats and entitled older siblings and use them for His purposes.

     The event which caused me to switch to Matthew, though, was the death of Mary Clyde early yesterday morning.  Uh, oh.  It looks like a few people did not see it on social media or read the e-mail blast.  I am sorry that you learn the news in a sermon.  But, it might be appropriate in the case of Mary Clyde.  Much of her life was a sermon, so it makes sense that her death might be in one, too.  Many of the pastoral conversations had died down the last two weeks.  Of course, the couple weeks before that more than made up for the calm.  Adventers, co-workers, hobbyists, and friends were railing at God for her ignominious end.  Why would God let her beat cancer and then let a secondary infection take her life?  Where is the justice in that, if God is good and all-powerful?  None of the questions were inappropriate or evil, so relax.  People in her life were watching her live her life as a faithful daughter of God.  Now, when she needed God, He seemed unaware or uncaring.  My work was to remind people that, not only was God aware of what was happening to Mary Clyde, He was snorting in anger at it.  That He chose not to miraculously cure her means there was a redemptive purpose in her death, a redemptive purpose that could only be served by someone, or several someones, watching her die in her faith in much the same way as she lived in her faith.  And Mary Clyde was willing to be used by God in His redemptive purposes in the world.  More on that in a moment.

     So, I realized pretty quickly yesterday that the bratty and conniving siblings sermon was not going to work.  I needed to be in Matthew.

     Our story takes place today right after the feeding of the 5000 men, besides women and children and the news that Herod has executed John the Baptizer.  Jesus sends His disciples in a boat to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.  He heads up the mountain to pray.  He was praying when interrupted by the crowds and ended up teaching and then feeding the crowds that led to the miracle which distinguished Him against Moses, Elijah, and all who interceded with God on behalf of God’s people.  Jesus takes, blesses, and breaks the bread.  Then He instructs the disciples to distribute the bread and fish.  There is no interceding like the prophets or priests before Him.  Some who witnessed Jesus’ provision would have argued that He did it wrong, much as healing on the Sabbath near the Temple was wrong.  Eyes we have but cannot see, right?  Jesus provides because He is the Son of God and here to do the will of the Father.  He does not Intercede because His Will aligns with the Will of the Father.

     Our story picks up with Jesus instructing His disciples and Apostles to head across the lake in a boat while He dismissed the crowds.  Then Jesus heads up the mountain to pray.  Mountains in the Old Testament figure prominently in encounters with God.  Those of us watching Abraham during Sunday school just watch Abraham and Isaac go up the mountain last week to offer Isaac as a sacrifice, right?  Moses meets God in the Burning Bush on a mountain.  Elijah battles the priests of Ba’al on a mountain.  The list goes on an on.  High places figure prominently in most cultures’ worship in the ANE.

     While Jesus is praying and communing with the Father, though, Jesus’ followers are having a hard time on the sea.  Keep in mind, many of these folk were fisherman, or worked fisherman adjacent jobs, so when we read they are having a hard time with the boat and the weather, this is a special storm.  For their part, all of the surrounding cultures would have accepted that bodies of water were the dwelling places of chaos.  Yes, the gods and goddesses had different names, but they were chiefly known for their seeming random behavior.  Such makes sense to us, right?  Ever been on a beach in the US when a storm comes through?  One day, it’s beautiful.  The next day the wind and rains are crazy.  And once the storm is passed, it is generally beautiful again.  Now pretend you live in an age where satellites cannot warn you about approaching storms or fronts.  Get the idea?

     And, lest you think this focus on chaos is a waste of time, how does God describe Himself in relationship to chaos?  He broods over the waters of creation and brings order to chaos.  Right?  He parts a body of water to deliver His people from slavery.  God is always reminding His people that He has power even over chaos.

     Sometime between, say 3am and 5am according to the Greek, Jesus goes walking to those in the boat.  This drives Jim Martin nuts, who thinks these miracles stories make Jesus seem more fictional, as if rising from the dead is a normal occurrence in everyday life.  Jesus comes walking on the water to the boat in which He placed His followers.  Part of the purpose of the miracle is to remind us of His power over the natural order.  But, as you have no doubt figured out, part of the purpose behind the miracle is the polemic against the power of chaos.  The waters, and the wind driven rain and waves, can do nothing to stop Jesus’ inexorable walk to His disciples.

     For their part, they realize this storm is dangerous and out of the ordinary.  When they see Jesus, they think Him a ghost or death incarnate or chaos incarnate.  It makes sense, given the understanding of the cultures of the day.  What should interest us, though, is that this is the second time in Matthew’s Gospel that Jesus demonstrates His power over water and storms.  Remember the last time, Jesus was sleeping and the disciples panicked?  He wakes and silences the winds.  The disciples are astonished at that miracle.

     Jesus calls out in the midst of their terror that it is Him.  Remember at the beginning of summer we talked about the theological significance of the the ego eimi?  That is the name that the rabbis who translated the Old Testament into Greek gave to God in the story of the Burning Bush.  God was the Great I Am.  Literally, it means, I, I am.  Whenever Jesus uses the name, it has an unmistakable theological overtone.  Jesus is identifying Himself with the God revealed in the Burning Bush, specifically, and intentionally, when He tells them not to be afraid.

     Peter hears Jesus through his terror and the exclamations of those around him.  He asks Jesus if it is really Him, command me to come to Him on the water.  Jesus does.  Peter gets out of the boat and starts walking to Jesus.  Matthew records that when Peter realized the strong wind, he became frightened and started to sink.  Peter cries out “Lord, save me.”  And Jesus grabs Peter’s hand and asks why Peter doubted.  Once the two get back in the boat, the wind ceased, and those in the boat worshipped Him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”  No longer are they astonished by His works.  They know who He is.  Only God can bring order to chaos.  Only God can bend nature to His will and His power.

     One of the reasons I think God changed my mind on the sermon today is the work that will be upcoming.  There is much anger, disappointment, and other emotions surrounding her death in the community around us.  That is not to say Adventers do not have some strong emotions, but we have the liturgy and one another to help us remember who we are and, far more important, who God is.  I understand the bitterness and anger directed at God over Mary Clyde.  Why let her beat cancer and then die because of the subsequent infection?  Why let her go through all that pain for 18 months and then let her die?  If He loved her, why would it not be quick and involve no suffering?

     We will have a lot of people come to pay their respects and share their stories of Mary Clyde.  The best way we can honor her life as a disciple of Jesus is to help others mourn her loss and share her faith and our own.  All of us gathered this morning, know that our faith is cross-bearing.  Jesus said pick up your cross and follow me.  This is not a fairy tale, in the sense that prosperity gospellers or the world wants to hear.  Often, God sends His people down from those mountaintop experiences back into the chaotic messes of the world.  Mary Clyde was no exception.  I mean, He sent her to Oak Hill city offices for many years, and some of you know the chaos there first-hand.

     But Mary Clyde always went where God called or instructed her.  She knew that when chaos happened or suffering happened, God was doing something significant.  In her mind, the significant act was for those around her.  Such was her walk with God that she knew, she had learned from experience, that even when she doubted and called to her Lord to save her, He was always willing to reach out a hand and remind her not to doubt.

      It is not surprising to those of us who knew her, then, that Mary Clyde chose to face her death in the same way she faced her life –trusting God!  She laughed on more than one occasion that she could not imagine that all she suffered would be not even worth a tear in the world to come.  She hurt.  God, did she hurt. And the idea that God had plans for her so marvelous, so wondrous, that all this skubala surrounding her death would not be worth a tear seemed impossible, but no less so that walking on the water or raising someone from the dead!

     Of course, for me, I know of two individuals who watched all this closely.  They expressed anger and frustration and all kinds of unsatisfied emotions in conversations with me.  But, one in particular, remarked how Mary Clyde lived as a one full of joy and peace.  That one remarked how Mary Clyde’s role in his life was to remind him that Christians should be joyous, should be fun to be around.  Most of all, because we know ourselves to be loved by God and bound to Him in baptism, we know He is with us through whatever work He sends us to do.  He ended our conversation with the beautiful observation that Mary Clyde faced her death much like she faced life.  As he reflected on it with me, he decided it was appropriate, even though he did not like it.

     Doing my job, I asked if he had that peace and joy, too?  He said he was not sure.  I reminded him that Jesus is always reaching out that hand to him, to let him know that He would walk beside him in whatever life through his way.  Like Peter and Mary Clyde and all those who have come before, He was always reaching out that saving hand to those who called upon Him.  But he appreciated my time and my perspective, and he promised he would be here for her funeral when it happened.

     My friends, Mary Clyde lived and died as one who trusted God.  Because she went where He led, and her weird sense of humor, her impact was significant.  When we gather next weekend to remind ourselves of God’s promises to her and to us, there will be people drawn here for reasons they do not understand.  Some will want the peace.  Others will want the joy.  Others will want a should or ear to help them make sense of this chaotic thing we call life.  The best way that you and I can honor her life’s work is to be attentive to those drawn by her this close to Christ’s saving embrace.  The best way that we can all honor our sister in Christ is to share our grief, our own hurt, and the unfailing promises of God.  Who knows?  Maybe the one to whom we minister next week will be another Peter, asking the Lord to save him or her?  Maybe we will get the honor of watching our Lord reach down that hand from heaven and save them when they call?  And maybe, as we pay attention to the stories and the emotions, you and I will be reminded ourselves of God’s power to bring order to chaos, to bring redemption to suffering and death.  Best of all, perhaps we will be reminded of His Will to do all that through common, ordinary, everyday people like Mary Clyde or us!

 

In His Peace,

Brian†

On Feeding Thousands and communities dedicated to God . . .

      After the first service, I had a couple Adventers ask me about polemic.  They remembered that I had talked about it in light of the story of Jacob’s ladder, and I used it today in the description of the Gospel lesson in a number of ways.  Simply put, and according to our dictionaries, a polemic is a critical attack on something on someone.  In the case of Jacob’s ladder, God is revealing to Jacob, and those who come after, that Babylon is not the gate of the gods.  There is only one God, the Lord, and He reigns over the cosmos even as He is beside His faithful in whatever they do or experience.  Today’s Gospel is critical of several things about the world and people today.  I may or may not touch on all of them.  But none of us should be surprised that God is critical of human beings in their efforts to rule themselves and others.  Most of us get that, when the world had the chance to follow Him, we put Him to death on a Cross, right?  I know, I know.  It’s early.  It’s a bit early for that slap in the face.  But the time does not make it any less true.  Humanity, far too often, creates idols that it worships, idols which actually enslave us, and all in contrary living to the God who created us.

     What do I mean?  Let’s start with one of Matthew’s over-arching themes, koinonia.  Those who have taken some classes or finished EFM know it means community or fellowship.  That’s partly correct.  What is missed in the English translation of Matthew’s vocabulary, among other things, is the purpose part of this gathering or community.  Matthew will spend most of his Gospel explaining this word to us, so I will not do it complete justice today, but koinonia exists to glorify God in the world.  Now, I am an American.  I get it.  Like most westerners, I am far more steeped in individual rights than the needs of the community.  This is where our Armenian brothers and sisters, as well as our Orthodox brothers and sisters up the pike, have an advantage on us.  They understand that we are called into community for the purpose of glorifying God. 

     None of you should be too shocked by that reminder.  We talk about the distinction between the West and the East when it comes to the Trinity, right?  Our understanding runs through Rome, which focused on the persona, literally the masks, of the Trinity.  Our Orthodox brothers and sisters are usually more focused on the communal nature of the relationship we call the Trinity.  We find it challenging in some corners to believe that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit can always be working to the same purpose or same will.  Our Orthodox brothers and sisters understand that the Three Persons in One Unity can act in no other way, desire to be in no other way.

     So, as we pay attention to Matthew’s reading this morning, remember this purposeful community.  Remember that God is calling together people to glorify Him in their community, in their life together, for the benefit of the world.

     Our pericope begins today with Jesus withdrawing in a boat to a deserted place by Himself.  What happened to cause this?  Well, in the story right before we read today, John the Baptizer has been famously executed.  Just to refresh our memories, Herod’s stepdaughter-to-be has just danced a sexy dance in front of the king and all his courtiers.  Herod famously offers her anything she desires, up to and including half his kingdom.  Salome, after conferring with her mother, Herodias, asks for the head of John the Baptizer.  Herod is described in the Scriptures as regretting the death of John, but he cannot abide what his attendants will think of him if he does not keep his oath.

     Just to remind ourselves, Herod is the king of Israel while Jesus is on earth.  Herod is not king by right of birth or anointing by God.  He is king because he has bribed officials to support his claim and because he pays taxes to Caesar.  We might say he sits on a precarious throne, to put it mildly.

     In an interesting twist, however, Herod has some respect for John the Baptizer.  Herod, and all Israel, recognized that John was a prophet of God.  Kings, as y’all know, were told to listen to God’s prophets.  Very few indeed ever accorded the prophet the respect they were due, let alone listened to them, but Herod was unwilling to stoop to the levels of some of David’s offspring and kill the prophets that warned them.

     Why the warning?  Herod wanted to marry Herodias.  John the Baptizer told Herod that God forbade it.  And now you remember why Herodias wants John’s head on a platter.  She wants to be the queen.  Now, thanks to her daughter’s sultry dance, she can fulfill her desire and get rid of the obstacle between her and the throne.

     You should also see now why Herod struggles.  He knows John is the first prophet of God in nearly three centuries.  For almost 300 years, God has been silent.  This silence has been unnerving for Israel.  God always speaks.  But now He no longer speaks.  Has God given up on Israel?  Has God revoked His promises to David and Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob?  Do the gods really favor Rome?

     Jesus, for His part, is never able to withdraw by Himself for very long.  Pick your favorite miracle.  Now imagine telling your friends and neighbors.  Now imagine them telling you what they heard or saw.  The buzz would have been off the charts, as we might have said a couple decades ago.  Need a disease cured?  Go see Jesus of Nazareth?  Need an exorcism?  God see Jesus of Nazareth.  Wherever Jesus goes in the Scriptures, the crowds always seem to be able to locate Him.

     Matthew tells us that on this day Jesus had compassion on the crowd and cured their sick.  As the day drags on, though, the disciples and Apostles encourage Jesus to send the crowd away.  They were in danger of having to feed the crowds, and they were in a deserted place.  Feeding so many would be impossible.  Jesus tells His followers that the crowds do not need to go away.  In fact, He instructs His disciples to give the crowd something eat.  His disciples and Apostles have a big problem, though.  They have only five loaves and two fish.  They are nowhere near close to having enough food for the crowd.

     In a world beset by hunger, one cannot overestimate the miracle that now occurs.  Jesus takes the loaves, blesses them, breaks them, and gives them to the disciples to distribute to the crowd.  I understand that it hard for us, on this side of Maundy Thursday, not to see the Eucharistic overtones in this meal.  Do not think it a Eucharist, however.  Jesus has not yet instituted that for His followers.  This meal will inform our Eucharist, but it has a different purpose in Matthew’s Gospel.

     Jesus’ actions are a polemic in that He is demonstrating to all who see and hear about this meal that He is unique in history.  When Moses and all the prophets ask God for provision, who does the providing?  God.  Is there a miracle in the Old Testament where a prophet takes credit for God’s activity?  Where a prophet mistakenly believes he or she is able to accomplish the miracle?  No.  In every case the prophets intercede, and God chooses to act wondrously.  The prophets make that absolutely clear to God’s people.

     Jesus though, in much the same way as He teaches, feeds the people with authority.  He does not ask God to intervene.  He does not appeal to God or complain to God that the people are hungry and about to kill Him.  He simply blesses, breaks, and distributes.  The miracle comes from Him and by His will.  You and I know, thanks to the Resurrection, that He is God’s Son, but the crowds and those who hear about this meal have no such understanding.  In fact, those who are avid followers of the teaching of Moses would be shocked and offended by Jesus’ activity.  In their minds, Moses was the great prophet.  Moses had to intercede.  Jesus of Nazareth is doing this all wrong.

     And even those who are looking for Elijah to return as Messiah would be bothered by this miracle.  When Elijah prays for food for the widow and her son, or even to raise the son from the dead, does Elijah do those wonderful works according to his own power, his own will?  No, He beseeches God to act.  God gets the credit.  God is the source of all his miracles, too.  Again, Jesus would be doing this all wrong in their eyes.  Much as when He heals on the Sabbath or dines with sinners and, dare we say it, tax collectors!

     Jesus does not intercede with God because He is God Incarnate, dwelling among them.  He does this miracle, like all the others, because He has the power and authority of God.  Demons cannot stand against Him; heck, they cannot even speak when He chooses to silence them.  The natural order is upended when He chooses to upend it.  When He cures, when He walks on water, and now when He feeds, He can do whatever He desires, whatever He wants.  He is in no way, shape, or form limited.  And the results speak for themselves.

     When the crowds have had their fill, not a bite, but their fill, Jesus instructs the Apostles and disciples to gather up the leftovers.  From five loaves and two fish, Jesus has given the crowd their fill and had enough leftovers for twelve baskets!  Every Hebrew in the crowd would have noticed the twelve baskets, and not because they were full and there were so many leftovers.  Thanks to the faith of Jacob, the one in our OT lesson today, Israel will always associate the number twelve with itself.  Jacob’s twelve sons will give rise to the twelve tribes that will make up the kingdom of Israel.

     The faithful among the crowd will see Jesus’ claim in a light that you and I sometimes miss, unless someone like me points out the significance.  At their best, all the descendants of Israel understood that God had chosen them to be a blessing to the world.  What made Israel special was the fact that God chose them and gave them purpose, but that purpose was for the benefit of the world.  All the world, the Gentiles, were to be drawn into relationship with God, thanks to the way Israel lived, the way Israel behaved, the way Israel acted.  God chose them, created them, to be a blessing.  Now, in their midst, something wondrous has happened.  Jesus of Nazareth has provided food to sate their appetites and still have twelve baskets of leftovers.  The symbolism is unmistakable.

     But the story is not done with its polemic yet.  We began our reminder with the dance Salome and the execution of John the Baptizer at a state dinner.  Herod has invited the rich and powerful, the men and women in the kingdom who keep him on his throne, to a lavish banquet.  Aside from the servants and slaves attending them, there are no common people there.  “King” Herod cares not for his subjects or their condition.  “King” Herod can do nothing to sate those whom he rules.  But this nobody from Nazareth can, and of His own authority.  Those who figure out Jesus’ role in God’s Kingdom will be reminded of the major difference between human kings, human rulers, and God.  God desires all the world to be fed, to have their hunger sated; and He chooses to make that happen.  Herod can do no such thing, especially if he is worried about losing the support of the rich and the powerful.  Jesus feeds about 20,000 people – it’s 5000 men plus women and children, so the miracle is more than we often think.  He is blessing Israel, reminding them of their calling, the purpose of their calling, to the world.

     Why the quick focus on the story today?  You and I live in a world that rejects the claims and authority of God.  We live in a country where we cynically expect our politicians to be enriching themselves and their families and friends.  We know better; God has taught us better.  We live in this polemic.  And, yet, we accept the status quo rather than holding our leaders accountable.  And before one of you has that internal argument with God and says your politician is better than the politician from the other side, is your politician really better?  Is your favorite politician at whatever level truly ruling to serve all people, even the least?  What’s worse, does your favorite candidate claim to be a Christian?  Does your favorite candidate publicly proclaim to be a follower of Jesus of Nazareth and truly follow Him?  Or is your favorite candidate more concerned with the next election, the next office, the honoring of himself or herself?  Is he or she calling themselves a Christian to trick you and others out of your and their vote?

     And before we start thanking God that we are not politicians and enemies of God, let’s look at our own guilt, our own willingness to accept these conditions?  When is the last time we voted out a hypocrite in office?  When is the last time we demanded our politicians govern us according to the faith they claimed on the campaign trail or in front of television cameras?  When is the last time we remembered our calling, and where God has placed us, and voted as if we believed God is serious about His concern for all humanity?

     Ouch.  I know.  Twice in one day is not fair.  But before you start arguing with God again, look at how He opened your eyes, in community dedicated to glorifying Him, to other issues, other possibilities, when conventional human wisdom told us there was nothing to be done.  Yes.  The low fruit of that discussion is Body & Soul.  But most of us gathered today remember its incredible start, right?  Those newer to Advent should hear plenty of sarcasm in that “incredible.”  We launched with 1000 pounds of food a month and no Hilary or Nancy running it.  Many of us bought all the myths.  You need to limit people from coming to the pantry because they will rob you blind/take advantage of you/never work to get off the help you provide for free.  Has that proven to be the case at all?  We’ve had maybe 2 individuals that most of us would call grifters, but even the grifters had families.  Was it right to harass a grifter and make life harder for the family members, especially the children?  If you open your pantry to those outside your zip code, you’ll never have enough food.  Those same lazy people will drive everywhere looking for a handout.  Yes, again, I push the arguments to the extreme.  But it was a crazy thing to complain that lazy people would never get off the support of the pantry while thinking they drive all around Middle Tennessee looking for handouts, especially given the inexpensive price of gasoline and the wonderful conditions of our roads and the friendliness of other drivers, right?  We had been warned about our food being too good, remember?  You can’t give away steaks or lamb or lobster or thick cut bacon.  Those people can’t appreciate good things like that.  Remember?  We were warned we would be bankrupted by this work.  We were warned we would attract “those people.”  Conventional human wisdom thought it was so smart, and many of us accepted that wisdom despite what we knew Jesus did and taught.  We had to live God’s provision much like those in our story today.

     And along the way what happened?  As a koinonia we learned that those whom we served were people like us.  We learned they had stories, hopes, dreams, fears not unlike our own.  We learned our government falls short in helping those whom it accepts as refugees and immigrants, even for those who served us in their home country at risk to themselves and their loved ones.  We learned about the desperation of those undocumented.  What was a political football to many of us in the beginning has now become familiar faces to us.  And, best of all from those concerned about finances, as the need has grown, God’s provision has been a step ahead.  Hilary and Nancy will spend maybe $8000 this year of Advent’s hard-earned money on food for those whom we serve.  Put another way, we might be responsible for a whopping 50,000 pounds of the food we distribute this year.  Yes, those of you doing the math have figured out we are the tithe in that provision.  But at least none of you is arguing or thinking that the rest is not provided by God.  We know ranchers in Illinois are not beating down the doors in TN to provide butcher cows to the food insecure.  We know restaurants love to give away that which they could sell for money and profit.  We know the stories of provision and how God makes it obvious that He is the One providing.  We have lived His provision every bit as much as those from Matthew’s story today.

     And now, having been convinced as a community dedicated to glorifying God in our midst, we are being asked by other churches to address the secular wisdom of the age.  We get to tell them the stories of those whom we or others have served.  We get to tell them the stories of God’s provision.  We get even to tell them of our amazing screw up’s, and how God redeemed each and every one of those.  And we get to tell them the lessons that God has taught each one of us as we have served others in His Name.  How far will that ripple?  What will be the impact on the world around us?

     Ask those participating in the ministry the impact on local politicians.  We had a couple candidates in the recent city elections who wanted the photo shoot.  And I have the wonderful opportunity to warn them, right?  You better be serious about living your faith.  If this is a hollow gesture on your part, I promise you it will COST you votes.

     This idea of community dedicated to the glory of God, though, can be small, too.  In a bit, I will celebrate the Eucharist at the Fountains.  For those of you unaware, we celebrate a Eucharist the first Sunday each month at an assisted living facility in Franklin.  When I was first approached, their director of spiritual care remarked how no one celebrated a Eucharist for residents.  Clergy would bring communion for a private Eucharist, and pastors would offer other church services with no liturgy.  But, they had a number of residents who were from liturgical traditions that mentioned how much they missed Communion services.  Naturally, I agreed to the services.  They had been a part of my ministry for all my ordained life.  The Vestry also supported my decision, which means it is a ministry supported by Advent.  Sometimes we pray for those requesting prayer.  The Altar Guild is responsible for making sure I have everything I need to celebrate a Eucharist.  Chalice Bearers go to offer the Chalice and assist me by offering the intercessions.  Joshua goes to be the psalmist.  It is another corporate ministry of Advent.  But it has a small footprint.

     In the beginning, it was small work.  Bobbie Krieger managed to draft three other ladies pretty quickly.  I think of those four as our core group down there.  But they loved that I celebrated a service with them.  Bobbie was the only Episcopalian, but they all loved the liturgy.  Eventually, they shared the service with others.  Over time, the ministry has grown and shrunk.  We get as low as 4 individuals some Sundays and as many as the mid 20’s at the peaks.  For their part, attendees like to wrestle a bit with God.  I always preach a homily or sermon.  I always try to speak to their lives.  They wrestle with the idea that God can use them even as their bodies are weakening.  One of my jobs is to remind them that they live in a context where death is a companion and terror for others around them.  They are in a place that takes mortality very seriously.  Death cannot be avoided.  So their harvest is truly plentiful, and the workers are more frail than few.  But God wants workers in that field.

     As they connect with other residents, the number of attendees grows.  As death claims them, though, the numbers shrink.  Yet, as long as they are an intentional community dedicated to glorifying God in their lives, I get to remind them, they have nothing about which to worry.  Just sharing God’s redemptive power in the face of death, just sharing God’s love for all whom He created, is work enough.  And, yet, they would tell you they know God can do far more than they can ask or imagine.

     One of the men they attracted to their koinonia was named Bill.  Bill was not liturgical inclined earlier in life.  In fact, Bill confessed on more than one occasion he was not sure what he believed or who to believe in his youth.  But he came.  Bill would interrupt the service to ask questions liturgical Christians might take for granted.  Luckily for him, or ordained for Bill, this clergy was raised in a congregational setting and could easily translate his questions into liturgical language.  And his fellow congregants accepted his interruptions for what they were, a man trying to figure out whether the Gospel was true, whether one could have a reasonable faith. 

     Bill eventually became the greatest evangelist I have known in my brief time at Advent.  This is not so much a criticism of other Adventers as an acknowledgement of Bill’s passion.  Bill fell so in love with the Eucharist, fell so in love that he could wrestle with God, that he could not help but invite everyone he met to come and see.  He sought out every new resident to invite them.  When he heard struggles over the cafeteria table, he knew the One who could help them.  And, he loved to argue with them whether God cared.  I do not want you to think Bill was a man of super faith.  Like any Adventer, he skipped church when the Titans were on tv.  Like any Adventer, he had to struggle with the idea that his lack of faith might have been directly responsible for Titan losses, especially when his pastor was in a snarky mood!  But he loved the arguing.  He loved the chuckling and the laughing.  And he loved the image that we were stuck at the kids’ table waiting on the real Feast to begin, that what God called him to was greater than anything he could ask or imagine.

     Since our Lord did not return, He called Bill home.  I hope I have made it clear in these few moments that what I valued about Bill was his passion to introduce others to God or to the liturgy.  In all other respects, he was a normal guy.  His questions were normal.  His struggles were normal.  And, like all men or women of a certain age, he had some baggage, baggage of which he was certain made him unlovable by God.  Once he learned, however, that God loved him and understood his baggage, understood him, he responded passionately.  He ministered hard to a group of people who needed to hear what he had heard.  But God was not done yet.

     When Bill died, he left instructions asking if I would bury him.  Maybe the only question he never asked me in a service was that one.  His dad called to find out who this pastor was.  As God would have it, it was a gentleman in government who was familiar with my work and who wanted me to make sure my congregation knew he hated slavery in prior elections.  We had that surprising moment when the politician was surprised to learn I did normal ministry to men and women like his father, and I was pleasantly surprised to learn a politician was born rather than hatched!  Lol  Seriously, we had some fun with this discovery.

     After Bill was buried and we celebrated his life and faith in good liturgical fashion, the son reminded me and those present that if they ever needed anything, and it was within his power, he would fight for them in thanksgiving to how they had ministered to his father.  Now, that gathering of cast-aside people, in their minds sometimes, have an understanding that God really can use them, even in such a setting as the Fountains.  And now, because of their faithfulness and willingness to reach out to others, they have one of the most powerful politicians in the state of Tennessee indebted to them.  Each one of them knows that they can write or e-mail Bill’s son, remind him who they are, and will be heard.  Maybe the son won’t have direct control to fix any issue, but they know he will help them or steer them because he knows they loved his father.  And because they live in the world around us, they know how they will handle any objections should they need the son’s help – I know a Son of a Father who was faithful, and look how God elevated Him, are you sure you want to risk not being faithful to both that Father and your own?

     You are giggling.  I get it.  It’s a wonderful a story.  It is so wonderful that we recognize it is beyond our scope and planning and efforts.  I certainly did not expect to be ministering to that politician’s father.  The Vestry certainly had no idea that the congregation gathered there would peak and ebb.  Those gathered there had no idea that they still had value, that they still could be used by God to reach others in their lives.  And while none of them to my knowledge has taken advantage of that politician’s offer, they know the offer was, at least for a time, was heartfelt.  They know they have an ally.  They know that their service has resulted in their own elevation in the world around them, that should they be called to use their connection to change the world.

     All of that points us back to the Gospel lesson this morning and the Covenant that God swore with Abraham.  Way back when God called Abram into relationship, He eventually revealed to Abram that He would bless the world through his descendants.  We’ve all just read the stories since Pentecost, so they should be bouncing around fresh in our minds.  We talked about how God’s people, living as God called them to love Him and love their neighbor as themselves, would lead to others joining them.  But we spoke mostly of how Jesus was the ultimate descendant, the Seed of Abram’s faith, that would truly bless the world.

     Fast forward into the life and work of Jesus.  Each of our Gospel writers shares those wondrous acts which testify to Jesus’ role in salvation history and help us decide whether He is Who He claims to be.  Our story today reminds us that Jesus is greater than Moses and Elijah and anybody else who must ask God to intercede.  Jesus does what He wills because He is the Son of God.  Unlike those who witness and struggled with what they saw, though, you and I have the perspective of the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus and the wonder of Pentecost made possible because of them.  In some ways, it is easier for us to understand His authority because we know He was raised from the dead.

     But just because it was easier does not mean it is easy.  You and I should, to use Matthew’s words, expect as a gathered community in faith to glorify God in our midst.  But that glorifying is cross bearing; that glorifying means rejecting the darkness of the world and embracing the instruction and manner of living of our Lord, knowing that the world too often chooses darkness and foolishness over God’s wisdom and God’s desire for His people and, through them, all people.  But, man, it is hard work.  The world and the enemy of God fights us, discourages us, mocks us at every turn.

     You and I are blessed to have several first-hand examples.  I have named two significant ones in our corporate life together, ones that most of us have some knowledge or experience with, but I am betting the Holy Spirit has placed a couple more examples in your own minds and your own hearts.  But each of those examples I have named or you have remembered reminds you of God’s purposes for you and for His communities!  Each example serves as a moment of encouragement in the midst of hard, cross-bearing Gospel work.  Each wondrous activity, where we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was not our genius, not our strength, not our wisdom at work, reminds us of the truth of our calling, reminds us that God calls ordinary men and women, ordinary youth and children, to follow where He leads.  And like Jacob, like Abraham, like those disciples and Apostles who came before us, He will glorify Himself in us and through us.  He will put to shame the wisdom of the world, and show that the foolishness of any Adventer, the weakness of any faithful Adventer, can be used by Him in all His redemptive purposes, can be used by Him to pint the way to His Son our Lord, through Whom all things are possible!  Best of all, if He can work His redemptive purposes through men and women and youth just like us, why would we not want the world to know that power, that love, and that purpose!

 

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian†