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†
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