Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Time Out

Yesterday, I realized I've now been at St. James for 3 months. I realized this as I attempted to write a newsletter article, mentioning our annual congregational meeting. I had no idea if that annual meeting happens in January or February. Goodness, I'm green! At the same time, this 3 months feels like much longer than that. I am already feeling the internal push to get stuff going, ask what's changing, what's new, etc. But I'm still learning my way around, I'm still learning my congregation's story, and the stories of the people. I'm still meeting people and we're still figuring out how we do day-to-day ministry with each other.


But I anticipated this. Before I began my call at St. James, I anticipated that I - and maybe others - would get antsy about what we're doing and where we're going. I also knew that it's important to take time to get to know each other and how we can do things together. So, I created a 6 month plan that didn't have anything to do with outreach, evangelism, or anything brand new. After all, before we intentionally invite guests to join us in worship or Bible study - or any ministry, for that matter - it makes sense to get ourselves together, figure out who we are together.


So, I am reminded to take a Time Out. I was reminded this last week, when I spent 3 days in bed, sick. TIME OUT. The gospel lesson last week reminds us that to be followers of Jesus, we must trust our whole selves - and our whole futures to God. And sometimes, God does say Time Out. Relax. Focus on relationship, not the future. Trust the future is in God's hands.


I've decided, then, to let go of the anxiety. The time will come for us to do something different. But for now, it's enough to get to know each other. In God's time, this will change... and, God willing, we'll be ready. 


So I'm gonna take a Time Out, and continue munching on my secretary's candy... as I get to know the people at St. James. Sounds like fun to me.

Look... and Love

Mark 10:17-31  


      As I read the story this week, one phrase stuck out for me. “Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” But, I thought, that can’t be the most important part of this story! Surely I should be preaching about this man – who he might have been or what his motives were. Or about Jesus’ response to him – ‘sure you can keep the commandments about your neighbor, but can you keep the first commandment, keep God as your only god and have no idols.’ Or I should preach about Jesus’ use of hyperbole in the camel and needle’s eye image. Or the disciples’ typical faith-less response. As with most gospel texts, there are myriad things to say and expound upon. But none of these possibilities sparked my interest the way this one phrase did. ‘Jesus, looking at him. Loved him.’
      In the gospels, when Jesus looks at someone, it means more than just seeing them. The gospel writer users the Greek word hemblaypo . This word indicates not just looking at but really seeing. It means, literally “to look straight at or see clearly.” And, it means figuratively, “to look at with the mind, to consider, to think about.”  You know from your own experience that there are layers to seeing. For example, you can see what a person is wearing, the color of their eyes, the color of their skin. You can also see something about their personality – the kind of clothes or makeup they wear, the way they stand. You can see how they’re feeling today – the look in their eye, the body language they use. And sometimes, you can see even deeper than that – what they care about, what makes them excited or afraid, what makes them tick.
      And Jesus, Jesus sees all of that. And maybe more. When Jesus looks at people, he takes in everything about them – everything that he can see on the outside. All of the inferences he can make about their personality and emotional state. And everything he can deduce about their motivations, their passions, their hopes, their desires.
      Jesus did just that with this man that day. The man ran to him and said he was seeking eternal life. He’d followed the rules and the laws, but he wanted to know, just to be sure, that he’d really find eternal life that way. And Jesus, looking down at the man kneeling in the hot dust, watching his sweat bead up on his brow and run down his face. Jesus, standing in the sun in the middle of the path that was leading him to Jerusalem, to the cross. Jesus, standing in the midst of a crowd that was rapidly thinning because of the difficulty of his teachings. Jesus looked at that man, and saw him – all of him. Jesus saw his faith, his ability and willingness to keep the law, his urgency to lay claim to eternal life. And Jesus saw his privilege, his riches, his arrogance, the way his richness was used to oppress others. And, Jesus saw his promise, his ability to use his riches to bless others, his urgency that could come in handy when the story of the cross needed to be told. And looking at him, seeing him… JESUS LOVED HIM.
      Jesus loved him, and then invited him to be a disciple, a follower. “Come, follow me,” Jesus said. But in the invitation to follow Jesus there was also a challenge. Jesus said, give away that which makes you more powerful than everyone else. Make yourself as a servant, as a child. Trust your welfare and your future to me and to God. When you can do that, then you are following me. Then, you will have treasures in heaven. Then, you will have eternal life – the healing and salvation that God wishes for you, for your whole being.
      This is not the answer that particular man wanted on that particular day. It was not enough for Jesus to look and to love. Or maybe, it was too much. The man didn’t want Jesus to really see him. The man didn’t want Jesus to answer honestly. The man perhaps would have done anything else Jesus might have said – but not this. This was too much.
      I wonder, do we want Jesus to really see us? Do we want Jesus to answer honestly? When we claim to be Christians, to be followers of Jesus, do we truly intend to do what Jesus has said? Do we truly intend to give away whatever we have that makes us more powerful than someone else? Do we truly intend to be servants, like children? Do we truly intend to trust our whole welfare and our whole future to Jesus and to God? Only when we can do these things, are we following Jesus. Only then will we have our treasures in heaven, the present day healing and salvation that God wishes for us all.
      But what does it take to become like this, to become this follower of Jesus? It takes doing as Jesus does – looking, and loving. But looking requires courage and it requires honesty. Just as Jesus looked at the man and knew everything – his gifts, his promise and his brokenness – Jesus looks at us and knows these things. And we must be willing to look into ourselves. To celebrate our gifts and our promise, and to repent of our brokenness. And then, as we look at others, really look at others, we need to recognize their gifts and their promise and their brokenness too. And, as we look at others, as we get to know them, as we offer them a piece of our hearts and a bit of our time. As we take the time to understand others and to care about them. As we look in this way, the love will come. Because that’s called relationship. And real relationships, where we really see each other and begin to know each other, that’s where God’s grace begins to grow. Between people, that’s where God’s grace flourishes.
      I hope this means something for you, for how you live your life. But it means something for St. James too. As we journey into the future together, we seek to be disciples of Jesus. We seek to be followers. And that means we must look carefully and attentively at ourselves. We must trust our whole welfare and our whole future to God. And we must look at and truly see our neighbors, our community. The gifts they have, the promises they bring, the brokenness they share (or even hide). We are doing this by having the honesty and courage to consider and learn about and respond to domestic violence. But that’s not enough. Where else are we needed? What else do we not know enough about? Who else do we need to look at and love?
      Being a follower of Jesus is an invitation, a blessing, and a gift in the grace of relationship. And it is also a challenge. A challenge to look at people, to really see them and care about them. A challenge to educate ourselves and to know them. And a challenge to love them.
      Elana is a friend of mine who I met in seminary. She is a Christian, but she grew up in an extremely religious Jewish home. Her mother was born in Auschwitz, just a year before the Holocaust ended. Her father was an American-born Russian Jew. They attended synagogue regularly and Elana was sent to Hebrew school. When Elana was only 12, her dad died. This forced her mom to move the family, but there still wasn’t enough money, so they spent some time homeless. However, they found a new synagogue, and Elana’s family became active there. By the time Elana was 16, her family was no longer homeless. Elana continued to attend services and to help where she could. She participated in the singing, and she excelled in Hebrew and Old Testament. But when Elana was 16, her mother fell ill as well. It turned out that her father had received a blood transfusion in 1984, before blood was tested for the HIV/AIDS virus. Elana learned that he had died of complications from the disease, and her mother was dying as well. Within days, Elana’s mother passed away.
      Where do you expect that Elana would turn during this time? She turned to her rabbi, to her synagogue. The place where she’d had her religious home. Only she found she was no longer welcome there. Her mother had died of AIDS. The synagogue shunned Elana and her family, just as many Christian congregations might have done.There was no place for them to go. Elana lost her faith in the community who had always supported her. She lost her faith in the Jewish people and traditions. She lost her faith in God. She was left, confused, abandoned, alone.
      Elana’s story doesn’t end there. She eventually began attending Christian church services, which were more palatable because they weren’t the people who had shunned her. Not that they wouldn’t have if she had been Christian instead of Jewish, but Elana only knew how her community responded. Now, she is returning to her Jewish roots as a Christian person. But her story is just one example of how much power we have as God’s people. When we fail to look at people, to see their situations. When we become paralyzed by fear or ignorance. When we refuse to look honestly at ourselves, to look honestly at others. When we refuse to be in relationship, we hurt people.
      Discipleship is hard. Jesus’ invitation to follow him really is a challenge. And we know we can’t do it on our own. But Jesus tells us, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.” Indeed, as long as we are in relationship to God – as long as we are open to following Jesus – God will make it possible. For God, all things are possible. Our God, who is faithful and forgiving. Ever seeing and ever loving. With this God, all things are possible. Thanks be to God.

Human Relationships: Gift and Trust

                As a kid I grew up in a house on the top of a hill. It was surrounded by woods. My sisters and I loved to play in the woods. Now, you’ve met my older sister Jessie – the Marine. As you can imagine, she especially loved playing in the woods. And, whenever we played together, she was always the leader. Oftentimes, Jessie would lead us on hikes through the woods. We would march in a straight line, Jessie first, then me, then my little sister Rachael. Sometimes, she would dig holes in the path first, and then cover them with leaves so you couldn’t tell they were there. She’d usually tell me where the holes were before we left… but somehow she always “forgot” to tell Rachael. So, we’d be walking through the woods on one of these hikes, and inevitably Rachael’s little feet would fall into one of the holes. Jessie and I would laugh and laugh, and Jessie would carefully explain to Rachael that she was preparing Rachael to fight in the Vietnam war. Grant that this was in the late ‘80s, and the war was long over, but still. And the amazing thing is, this happened more than once. And Rachael still willingly and happily went on hikes with us. And now, Rachael still remembers these hikes – and yet somehow, she still trusts us.
                That kind of trust – the trust that a child has for her older sisters, a person has with her closest family, is what Jesus addresses in today’s gospel story. In the story, the Pharisees have approached Jesus while he is teaching. They approach him with a legal question – “Jesus, is it lawful [legal] for a man to divorce his wife?” Now, this question was a loaded question. For the church of Jesus’ time, this question was about as full of emotion and intensity as the question of whether homosexuality is OK or not is for the church of our time. There were different factions of Judaism – much like there are different denominations of Christianity – and each taught something a little different regarding the concept of divorce. So, in asking this question – “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife” – the Pharisees are attempting to trick Jesus into taking a side, and ultimately alienating all of the other Jewish denominations.
                But Jesus, in characteristic Jesus style, didn’t fall for the Pharisees’ trick. In fact, he didn’t even answer their question. Hear again his response: not, “Yes” or “No” or “It depends” but “What did Moses command you?” He answered their question with another question. So the Pharisees shared what Moses said, that a man could write a legal document and divorce his wife. And Jesus responds, not with a legal injunction, but by drawing them back to God’s grace. Moses and the law allow for divorce. This is important because humans are not perfect and human relationships are not perfect. But God’s grace for us, God’s hope for us, is mutual, loving, trusting right relationship between people.
                Now, you might notice that that’s not exactly how Jesus said it. No, Jesus went back and quoted the Biblical texts – just as the Pharisees had. But instead of returning to the law, Jesus returns to the story, the original story of God’s creation, of God’s hope for creation. Jesus replies with two separate statements that get to the same point. You see, the book of Genesis is a compilation of the writings of 4 different authors. Two of the authors recorded the creation story. The Pharisees would have known that well, and it’s likely that some Jewish denominations preferred one account and others preferred the other. So, in saying both statements – both “God made them male and female” and, “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh” – in saying both of these things, Jesus brings together both author’s stories. Again, his answer isn’t about legalism or denominationalism. Jesus’ answer is about God’s creative intention when God first molded the world.
                And God’s creative intention was that people would have a helper; a companion. Literally from the Hebrew, a counterpart. Instead of responding to the pettiness of the Pharisees, Jesus reminds them – and the disciples and the crowds and the children around him – that God doesn’t fall for petty schemes. God doesn’t let legalism get in the way. God doesn’t allow sinfulness or brokenness to change God’s good intentions for the world. God doesn’t permit humans to fundamentally change God’s goodness in the world. But Jesus also doesn’t tell them that Moses’ legal advice is wrong. Jesus doesn’t say that divorce is not allowed. Jesus doesn’t pretend as though divorce doesn’t happen or isn’t sometimes necessary. Rather, instead of falling for a petty scheme to further destroy relationship – between the Jewish community or between Jesus and his followers – Jesus opts to promote positive relationship. That relationship which, from the very beginning, God has created us all to have.
                As Christians, we understand God to be in relationship just by herself – that God exists as a relationship between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. God exists in the relationship between the Creator, the Redeemer and the Sustainer; the Mother, the Child, and the Dancer. And God exists in relationship with us, the children, the friends, the followers. And so, we naturally understand that God’s intention for us – as made in God’s image – is also to be in relationship. We know this because we long to be with people. We are born into the world needing people. A father or mother to hold us and feed us. A sibling or friend to play with us and laugh with us. We need people to teach us to eat, to walk, to play. Infants who are not held by people die, and sick infants who are touched by people get better faster. Even into adulthood, we long for touch, for conversation, for companionship. And this is what God would have for us. This is the kind of relationship that God invites us into – with God, with Jesus, and with others.
                But relationship requires trust. And, just as there were holes in the path where my sisters and I walked, there are holes in the path of every relationship. And, in every relationship, some of these are put there on purpose – and some of them just come up. Some of the holes are covered up, and some of them are not. But inevitably, at some point, our little feet will fall into one of the holes. And our companions might laugh, or might explain to us what’s going on, or might help us up. But hopefully, one way or another, however it happens, they might restore trust.
                We have a remarkable resource in the ELCA’s new Sexuality Statement. This statement carefully addresses not only sexuality, but our human relationships in the many forms they take. Just as Jesus addressed God’s intention without denying the reality and need for divorce, this statement addresses both God’s hope and intention for relationships, and also the reality that sin and brokenness affect these relationships. At one point, the statement says, “God created human beings to be in relationship with each other and continually blesses us with diverse powers, which we use in those relationships.” It asserts that God desires that we might have trusting relationships that are loving, life-giving, self-giving, fulfilling, nurturing, marked by truth-telling, faithful, committed, supportive, hospitable, and a blessing to society and serving the good of the neighbor.
But as we all know, not all relationships do this, and not all marriages are able to sustain these intentions. As we participate in Domestic Violence Awareness month, we become aware that many relationships are not only painful but downright abusive. In fact, the sexuality statement asserts, “Precisely because marriage is the place where deep human trust and needs abide, it also can be a place of great harm. Many experience neither love nor trust within marriage. Harming another emotionally, physically, or spiritually, including through the misuse or abuse of power, is a profound injury. It is also a betrayal and violation of the shelter and trust that are intended within the marriage relationship.” And so, the ELCA “recognizes that in some situations the trust upon which marriage is built becomes so deeply damaged or is so deeply flawed that marriage itself must come to a legal end.”
That is to say, that our church – like Jesus and the Pharisees – recognize that divorce is sometimes necessary. It is sometimes important. And it is sometimes life-giving. And even in the midst of situations of divorce and brokenness, God still hopes for us to have good, positive, life-giving, trusting relationships. Maybe with a mother or father or a sister or brother. Maybe with your children or your friends. Maybe with the people you worship with. Maybe even with God.
In reality, God hopes, even intends, that we would have good, positive, life-giving, trusting relationships with all of these people. And God knows that there are holes in every relationship. There is brokenness in all of our lives. Each of us struggle some days to be kind or loving or affectionate or even just not cranky or angry. And even then, God is working with us and in our relationships for healing, for mending, for renewal. And God is always working through our brokenness and pain, moving us into healing and mending and renewal. Thanks be to God.