A Regular Joe

Sunday, November 29, 2015

DO OVER!

I remember as a kid playing backyard games with the neighbors and other local friends. Occasionally, one of us would screw our turn up horribly and you’d hear “Do Over!” Even as an adult we are not immune to this desire, as an adult it sounds like this, “Mulligan!” It is our way of expressing the desire to have another shot at it, to give ourselves another chance at being as good as we believe we are.

In their book, “Can I Get a Do Over?”, Rick Domeier and Max Davis tell the story of René Uzé who built his dream life from the ground up. He knew he was born to cut hair, and in high school he started doing so using his bedroom as a salon, first cutting the hair of his team mates, then the cheerleaders wanted him to cut their hair and then their parents became clients. Eventually, he owned one of the most successful high-end salons in New Orleans. Just as life seemed perfect, Hurricane Katrina hit. Literally everything René had worked for was lost. As he was putting his life back together, he was diagnosed with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. With fearlessness and ambition, René has defied his cancer and his doctor's expectations. He now owns two successful salons in the Baton Rouge, LA area where he relocated after Hurricane Katrina. Talk about a Do Over!

Well look around the sanctuary this morning. It looks, it sounds, it feels, it even smells like Advent. The wreaths, purple vestments, hymns, familiar biblical text. There’s enough snow dropping in the Northeast that they’re going to have to pull out the snow mobiles & horse drawn carriages. The Salvation Army bell ringers are out. Kids are counting the days until Christmas. Here we go…again.¹

But it doesn’t get any better. I’m not talking about our singing or the opportunities here to serve the church, you know what I mean—life, the world, the struggles, the suffering, the kingdom coming on earth as it is in heaven kind of thing. I’m talking about the big picture out there; ok maybe in here (in the heart)…it doesn’t get any better. Advent and this do-over thing!!

Each year many preachers and retreat masters will go to great lengths to try to explain the apocalyptic literature in the Bible, every Advent, every do-over. Yet when we stop to think about it, such apocalyptic consciousness is not just about biblical literature. Nor is it only in video games and fantasy novels. More than 6,800 American soldiers have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. More than 52,000 have been wounded. According to the US Census statistics, 46.7 million people live in poverty, 16 million of those were children. 1 in 5 children in the United States live in poverty, 2.2 billion in the world! Statistics of apocalyptic proportions. Words with apocalyptic connotations are everywhere. Words like rampage, surge, famine. Workplace, family, random violence, war on drugs, pandemic. Preachers don’t prime your apocalyptic imagination. The world already takes care of that. It’s never far from home either. Every time we gather as the Body of Christ, you know there is someone whose daily battle is beyond description. Someone who is living a story of endurance and perseverance, a family member struggling with addictions, someone labeled as a “surviving spouse”. Life and how when Advent comes around, yeah—it doesn’t seem to be getting any better.¹

In the Gospel we hear Jesus tells his disciples, “There will be signs … that will leave this world in dismay and perplexed...” (Lk 21:25) and to “beware that your hearts do not become drowsy … with the anxieties of life.” (Lk 21:34) To “be vigilant at all times and pray… (Lk 21:36).

When these signs appear, when life’s challenges happen, Jesus said, when that’s how it feels, when the Advent do-over just isn’t working … right then, stand up and raise your head, because redemption is drawing near. Your redemption. Your salvation. Your liberation. Your forgiveness. Your new life is drawing near. God is drawing near. Jesus is drawing near. Not just because the calendar marches on, not just because we’re on the clock, but because life happens.

The Real Presence of Christ is present here. Just as he promised, “I am here, this is my body broken for you, this is my blood shed for you.” Forgiveness, Liberation, Salvation, Redemption. Take and eat, drink my blood, “…stand erect and raise your heads for your redemption is at hand.” (Lk 21:28) The sacramental, apocalyptic promise of God.

In an unpredictable world, God assures us of his care. In the midst of our vulnerability, God comes as the most vulnerable of all, a new born child.² Can you imagine how individuals, congregations, and other communities might grow if we embraced this do-over time to clarifying and strengthening our ability to stand, head raised in the midst of our own vulnerabilities by the end of November next year?³ Neither can I, but it sounds worthy of our best “Do Over” effort.

References:

Scriptures: Jeremiah 33:14-16; 1Thessalonians 3:12-4:2; Luke 21:25-28, 34-36

Sunday, November 8, 2015

LETTING GO

A father takes his son into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone. He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night, he is a MAN. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own. The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man! Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm.

Although the author of the story was not shared, at my first reading it had the feel that it may be rooted in Native American spirituality. So it wasn’t hard for me on the first read to imagine not just the father but other braves stealthily surrounding the boy, which in turn brought back memories of my brothers and sisters in arms, these are the men and woman who have or are sitting on the stump to protect us, our communities, and country. Men and women who volunteer to protect and serve. Who, by God’s grace, find the courage to ignore the conventional wisdom to run from danger, but to run headlong into the fire fight, the burning building and other crisis situations with full knowledge of the potential cost of their very lives.

I’m going to ask for your partial participation in my homily today. Reach into your pockets or purses and take out two coins and simply hold them in your hands; I will come back to them later.

Today’s Gospel is broken into two sections. First we are introduced to the scribes, who are strutting around in their long robes, reciting long public prayers, sitting in places of honor, and taking advantage of widows. They fancy themselves as master teachers and future prophets. Then Jesus came on the scene, preaching against the conventional wisdom, he hung out with sinners and tax collectors, preached forgiveness and healing, even on the Sabbath. It is clear in today’s passage that the scribes were focused on themselves, their appearance, and their money. They’re focused on their own self-worth and desire for power, prestige and possessions.

In contrast, we have the figure of the widow in the first reading and the Gospel. “In a society in which males played the public role and in which women did not speak on their own behalf, the position of widow, particularly if her eldest son was not yet married, was one of extreme vulnerability.”¹“Often the act of the widows seems to be viewed simply as; those who have the least are often the most generous. Yet, their acts of generosity are in some sense acts of desperation.”² The widow in the first reading has given up! She is ready to die with her son of starvation. Hear her words, “Just now I was collecting a couple of sticks, to go in and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die.” (1 Kgs 17:12) and in the Gospel Jesus himself makes note, “For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.” (Mk 12:44) They both have offered their “whole lives” and placed their trust in God, they have nothing else. This is the same offering the disciples made when the “left everything and followed Jesus,” (Lk 5:11) and the same way Jesus will offer his “whole life” to save us from our transgressions, for our eternal salvation.³

We shouldn’t read the Gospel’s denunciation of the scribes as only applying to religious leaders in Jesus’ day; it can be applied to any hierarchical organization, including churches, that places power and prestige over the well-being of people. It is in the widows emptying of all that she had, represented by the two coins, that Jesus praises her above the scribes who continue to cling to their own self-worth as being most important.

At times, do we find it rather easy to get very comfortable with our surroundings … to be in control … the have it our way? Society fueled by a barrage of advertising reinforces the so called conventional wisdom that blinds us not in fear, but to others needs as we sit complacently with our need to have and want more; to have the latest gadget, biggest car, newest iPhone and of course the finest clothes. The message Jesus gives us is we must let go … we must empty ourselves of our desire for worldly goods. We must trust that God is sitting on the stump, right next to us, to protect and provide for our safe journey, as we offer our whole life.

How do we begin this process of letting go? We turn to the two coins in order to move away from the desire of holding onto the material world, to be able to let go of our wants and desires, and to cease focusing on conventional wisdom in the popular culture. It is the two coins that the widow holds which represent the two great Commandments that Jesus gives us in the passage from Mark, which appear just before today’s Gospel. “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength … and love your neighbor as yourself … there is no greater commandments.” (Mk 12:30-31)⁴

Our love needs to be focused on God and neighbor, We must let go and let God, work in us and through us.

References:

Scriptures: 1 Kings 17:10-16; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44

Monday, September 28, 2015

DECIDE!!

Scriptures: Numbers 11:25-29; James 5:1-6; Mark 9:38-43, 45, 47-48

Some friends who went deer hunting separated into pairs for the day. That night one hunter came back alone, staggering under an eight point buck. “Where’s Harry?” asked another hunter. “Oh, he fainted a couple miles up the trail,” Harry’s partner answered. “And you left him lying there all alone and carried the deer back?” “A tough call,” said the hunter, “but I figure no one’s going to steal Harry.”

Now that story is cousin to the old exclamation, “If I told you once, I’ve told you a million times, not to exaggerate!”

It’s a hyperbole (hī-pûr′bə-lē), using extravagant language to get a point across. Consider today’s Gospel story. It suggests outrageous, terrible sounding things like plucking out eyes and cutting off arms to get to Heaven! But we have to recognize Jesus is using hyperbole here, severely exaggerated speech to make a point. How do we know this? How many people who read the bible literally do you know that are one eyed, one handed, and/or one footed? Obviously they are making some adjustments when they get to scripture versus like this.

Another key point to keep in mind when reading this Gospel passage includes knowing who is Jesus’ audience? His audience is specifically the 12 Apostles, the very ones called to a leadership of service. The last couple of weeks we heard Jesus passion predictions, trying to explain that he must be handed over, tortured and killed; yet the Apostles are arguing about who’s the greatest among them, who will sit at his right and at his left in the kingdom, and Peter’s exclamation of “God forbid!”, meaning that’s not the way we envisioned your Kingdom coming. Jesus’ teachings are leading to his bottom line: DECIDE! Make the radical decision to follow me.

When Billy Graham’s Crusade was travelling around the country he always gave the audience a final challenge: “Decide! Cut away anything that prevents you from a radical decision for Jesus Christ! Decide for Christ!”

Pope Francis’ message has been very similar on his trip to America. While the Pope has not used hyperboles to make his point, he has in is simple, humble and merciful way communicated his knowledge of the key social challenges facing us today; immigration, the family, and the poor that demand a faith response. He clearly by word and action communicated the Gospel values that challenge us as a nation and individuals to “Decide!” To discover those things that need to be cut off, plucked out so that we can not only say the right things but provide the proper actions to meet the challenges head on in accordance with the scriptural messages of today.

To help us understand what we are deciding, we’ll use a picture. This picture is called “The Light of the World” and hangs in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. It depicts Jesus standing at a door knocking. Note that the door is overgrown with vines and there is not a door knob or handle on the outside of the door, meaning only someone from within can open or respond to the knock to allow Jesus entry.

Again, the Gospel message, it’s time for a radical decision. What decision, to open the door to Jesus once and for all. Yet not one door, but three: the door to the past, the door to the present and the door to the future.

First to open the door to the past is to realize that “what is done is done.” That is, what we did, the hurtful things, the heartbreaking things, the arrogant things, the unjust things—they’re done and we can’t undo them. The only way we can deal with past hurts and sins that haunt us is to open the door to Jesus. This tradition is called opening the door to forgiveness. To decide to open the door to Jesus Christ of the past is simply to go to Jesus and ask for forgiveness, and that’s it.

Secondly, we must decide to open the door to the present and ask ourselves, “What is going on in my life right now?” What needs to be cut off, plucked out? What needs to be put into perspective?

There is a story about a missionary in China. At the time he and a family—mother, father and two children—were under house arrest. They’d been living under house arrest somewhat comfortably for many years. One day a soldier came in and told them they may return to America, but they could take only two hundred pounds with them. Well they’d been there for years! So they broke out the scale and the family arguments began. We must have this vase, we must have the typewriter, it’s almost brand new, and we’ve got to take these books, and this and that. Well they finally got it right on the dot, 200 lbs. When the soldier returned and asked if they were ready to go, they responded yes. “Did you weigh everything?” They said yes. “Did you weigh the kids?” “No, we didn’t.” “Weigh the kids,” he said. And in a moment, off went the vase, the typewriter, and the books into the trash.

What are the things cluttering our lives, separating us, distracting us from right relationship with family, community, Jesus? Cut it off! Pluck it out!

Lastly is to choose to open the door to the future. This simply means to give yourself to Jesus. The Christ who said, “Come to me all of you who labor and are heavily burdened and I will refresh you.” (Mt 11:28) “How often I would gather you as a mother hen gathers her chicks but you would not.” (Mt 23:37 & Lk 13:34) This is the Jesus who says, “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life.” (Jn 14:6)

Decide! Decide what needs to be cut off and plucked out to open these doors. Open the door to your past, there is forgiveness. Open the door to the present to look at all the unnecessary and divisive things you have on the scales, and trash them, there is renewal, conversion, transformation. Open the door to the future, hand your very life over to Jesus, there is a promise.

On the other side of these doors stands the most unconditional Lover you’ll ever meet.

References:

Sick, and You Cared For Me Edited by Deacon Jim Knipper © 2014 “Whoever Is Not Against Us Is For Us” by Fr. William Bausch