Sunday 11/28 Reflection

As I studied the scripture for Sunday, two reflections from others were the inspiration for my sermon.

The first was taken from Madeline L'Engle’s book, The Irrational Season:

This is the irrational season

When love blooms bright and wild;

Had Mary been filled with reason,

There'd have been no room for the child.

The reflection that a reasonable person would have said, “Thanks, but no thanks” to God was very intriguing to me. Are we often being called by God to act in our world and for all the right reasons say, “Sorry, this isn’t a good time”?

The second reflection, I noted in my previous blog was from a sermon by Meister Eckhart, a Christian mystic, theologian and preacher from the 13th century. In one of his Christmas sermons, Eckhart speaks of the virgin birth as something that happens within us. That is, the story of the virgin birth is the story of Christ being born within us through the union of the Spirit of God with our flesh. For one, like myself, who has difficulty with a strictly historical interpretion of the Christmas story; the story of Jesus' birth as not just in the past, but about an internal birth in us in the present, speaks to me. My prayer is that it will speak to you.

Here are some of my notes form my sermon.

How many of you like surprises?

I guess it depends on the surprise doesn’t it?

The Bible is full of God's…surprises, in hindsight we call them blessings, but more often than not, in the midst of it, I wonder how often we see God’s call as blessing.

Can you think of a single instance in the scripture when God's call comes at a convenient time or  fits easily into somebody's routine?

God’s call comes….

Change your ways!  Change your mind!  Change your plans!

///////////////////////////

God sends Abraham and Sarah into a strange land on a thin promise.

God meets ill-tempered, tongue-tied Moses out in the wilderness, makes him go back to the last place he wants to go to face the last person he wants to face with the last message he wants to stutter before the mighty Pharaoh.

God calls Ruth to leave her homeland to anoint as the greatest King, save one, Israel would ever have and makes an everlasting covenant with him.

God calls Jeremiah, who says, "Hey, I'm just a kid," but God says, "Hey, I can use kids, too."

Jesus shows the Pharisees that God loves prostitutes and tax collectors just as much as priests and Bible teachers, and calls a rugged crew of fishermen and marginalized women to be his closest followers.

The Spirit shows the apostles in Jerusalem that the gospel includes the Gentiles just as much as the Jews – and Samaritans, and women, and eunuchs, and even Roman prison guards!

God keeps making these disturbing, surprising calls which break the rules, change our minds,

and push us in new, unexpected directions.

Perhaps the most surprising, the most disturbing call in the Bible…comes to Mary.

Scholars tell us Mary would have been young, as young as twelve or fourteen years old when the angel appeared to her. Think of that! A child of a woman, from a poor priestly family. Her life already mapped out for her. With an arranged marriage, the custom of the day, soon she will leave her parents and move in with him.

Suddenly an angel is calling her name! With a surprise from God, that disturbs

everything she has planned, everything she has expected, all of her young Jewish girl dreams. She must rethink all her values…loyalties….commitments…ideals.

She has to tell her parents…her rabbi…Joseph! "How can this be?" Mary asks, as we ask when God calls us to something we didn't expect  or don't want to do, or worst of all, don't believe in.

Ruth Fox, a Benedictine nun, argues that too often we picture Mary as a perfectly manicured, wealthy European Renaissance woman, like all the paintings, and statues and Christmas cards. She says we need to picture her as a sturdy young Palestinian peasant, strong enough to walk the rugged hills of Galilee, carry heavy jars of water from the well, give birth in a barn.

  Or for those of you who have gone on one of the mission  trips to Nicaragua, think of her as a young girl walking miles for water or to school.

  Or think of those young girls in Kenya, that Mary Walker talked to us about last Sunday. Escaping from genital mutilation and forced early marriage.

Not the most likely candidate to bear the Son of God,                                                                                                 birthing the savior into the world?

Those young girls are just like Mary…only human.

Just like the thousands of other Jewish girls across the countryside at Mary’s time, nothing special, not a saint, not exceptionally gifted, not theologically trained, not wealthy, not powerful, not even noticed by the world, and yet - she, of all people, is called by God.

"How can this be?" Mary asks, and we must wonder the same thing…when God calls us to be the means by which the love of Christ is born into this world.

We are only human, after all. Men and women, partnered and single, young and old - ordinary people all, ordinary like the ordinary people God calls again and again and again in the Bible.

"How can this be?" Mary asks, and we ask the same when we think about the scandal of the incarnation, that God entered the world through the flesh of Mary in the flesh of Jesus. It is ridiculous. It is absurd. How can this be?

But this is what we believe.

God entered the world - and still enters the world - through ordinary flesh and blood.

What did the disciples say when Jesus started telling them about the cross?

"How can this be?" asked the hierarchy when Martin Luther said the church had become over-institutionalized and needed to recover grace and faith at the heart of the gospel.

And God is still making these strange calls in our own time.

"How can this be?" asked preachers and elders when women presented themselves for ordination.

"How can this be?" they asked when Martin Luther King said the church needed to be at the center of the civil rights movement.

"How can this be?" asks many, when others say that God's spirit has been poured equally on all of God’s people.

God's disturbing call keeps doing new things, coming into the world to spread the love around, move us one step closer to the dream God has for us all.

"How can this be?" Mary asks.

"How can this be?" Well, it cannot be, it will not be unless Mary says "yes."

God's call catches us by surprise, disturbs our plans, and changes everything.

We want to say, "You must have the wrong person. You can't use me."

We want to say, "Maybe later, when I'm ready, when I'm a better person, when I've finished what I want to do."

But God uses human instruments to accomplish the Divine purposes.

God uses ordinary flesh and blood, yours and mine, "earthen vessels," Paul calls them.

Think about it. What if Mary had said, "No? Not me."

Or: "Maybe later when I'm older."

But what did Mary say?

"Let it be to me according to your word."

The most outrageous…naïve…courageous words in the Bible and good news for all of us. "Let it be to me according to your word."

It doesn't make sense. It disturbs all her plans, begs for trouble.

But, as Madeline L'Engle writes,

This is the irrational season

When love blooms bright and wild;

Had Mary been filled with reason,

There'd have been no room for the child.

Advent I - Scripture for Sunday 11/28

This Advent season I will not use the lectionary readings for the year, instead I would like to focus on the story leading to Jesus’ birth. When following the lectionary, it isn’t until the 4^th Sunday of Advent that we begin to move into the story of Mary and Joseph. On the 4^th Sunday we typically hear that an angel appeared to Mary or to Joseph, and then a few days later we are celebrating the birth of the baby. This year we will begin the 1^st Sunday of Advent with the story of Mary and the Angel. The 2^nd Sunday of Advent we will delve into the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah. The 3^rd Sunday of Advent we will look at how Joseph dealt with the news of Mary’s pregnancy. And on the 4^th Sunday we will take the trip with Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem.

My hope and prayer is that we will be able to hear a familiar story in new ways.

THE FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT

Luke 1:26-38 (NRSV)

²⁶ In the sixth month (of Elizabeth’s pregnancy) the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, ²⁷ to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. ²⁸ And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." ²⁹ But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. ³⁰ The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. ³¹ And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. ³² He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. ³³ He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." ³⁴ Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" ³⁵ The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. ³⁶ And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. ³⁷ For nothing will be impossible with God." ³⁸ Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.

New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by Permission. All rights reserved

Luke 1:26-38 (The Message)

²⁶ In the sixth month of Elizabeth's pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to the Galilean village of Nazareth ²⁷ to a virgin engaged to be married to a man descended from David. His name was Joseph, and the virgin's name, Mary. ²⁸ Upon entering, Gabriel greeted her: Good morning! You're beautiful with God's beauty, Beautiful inside and out! God be with you. ²⁹ She was thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting like that. ³⁰ But the angel assured her, "Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you: ³¹ You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus. ³² He will be great, be called 'Son of the Highest.' The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David; ³³ He will rule Jacob's house forever— no end, ever, to his kingdom." ³⁴ Mary said to the angel, "But how? I've never slept with a man." ³⁵ The angel answered, The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Highest hover over you; Therefore, the child you bring to birth will be called Holy, Son of God.
³⁶ "And did you know that your cousin Elizabeth conceived a son, old as she is? Everyone called her barren, and here she is six months' pregnant! ³⁷ Nothing, you see, is impossible with God." ³⁸ And Mary said, Yes, I see it all now: I'm the Lord's maid, ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say. Then the angel left her.

Scripture quotations from THE MESSAGE. Copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

It may surprise some that I find it difficult to preach during the season of Advent/Christmas. While I find the stories engaging and full of contemporary issues, they are also full of difficulties. Two gospels, Mark and John, do not even offer a birth story and Luke and Matthew are quite different in their telling of the story. Are Mary and Joseph living in Nazareth or in Bethlehem…it depends on which story holds your attention? Genealogies are so important in the bible, so why is Jesus’ ancestry so different in Luke and Matthew? After Jesus’ birth is there a star and wise ones bringing the first Christmas presents or does the angel choir appear the shepherds, so that the shepherds bring milk and goat cheese to Mary.

It may be hard to believe, with all the Christmas shopping already happening, but for many centuries the birthday of Jesus was not a major celebration in the church. Holy Week and Easter are the founding festivals of the church. Christmas was a minor season in comparison.

There is also difficulty with the idea of a virgin birth and the biblical description of conception. We no longer see sex as impure or sinful. And, while we hear the story of Mary’s conception story through the warmth and peacefulness of Christmas, if that context is momentarily removed the story also has a frightening and terrifying side to it. David Ewart writes:

A young woman (as young as 12 or 13) is caught alone by a powerful male who says, "Don't be afraid, this won't hurt. You are going to be overpowered and become pregnant. I'll leave you. You'll have a baby out of wedlock. And no one will believe your story of how you got pregnant."

Preachers, especially powerful males, should be aware of the memory traces this story may stir up among their congregations.

What is also shocking about this story though, is that it is preserved and told as being the origins of the Holy One, our Jesus.

In Mary in the New Testament (Fortress, 1978) , in which collaborating Roman Catholic and Protestant scholars examine what the churches and the New Testament have said about Mary, the authors confess that neither Catholic nor Protestant tradition and practice have done Mary justice. The volume chases down a host of unbiblical doctrines, some all the way to the second century. Heresy-prone ascetics used the virgin birth to develop the illegitimate dogma that chastity is a higher calling than marriage. Yet the idea of Mary’s perpetual virginity became so popular that in the late fourth century the faithful greeted with horror two pro-marriage churchmen’s suggestion that it was biblically and historically justifiable to believe that, following Jesus’ birth, Mary had children by her husband just as any other wife would. An outraged Jerome, then the church’s leading biblical scholar, proposed that the brothers and sisters of Jesus mentioned in the Bible were really cousins. The simple, humble woman who gave birth in a barn would come to be hailed by one fifth-century writer as the one from whom came forth the divine power which created heaven and earth. "Mother of God," a title intended to stress Christ’s full humanity and divinity, came to be taken literally. Mary became a mother goddess.

Even with these difficulties I still find power in the story of Christmas. I like how Marcus Borg comes to the story:

I do not see the basis of the birth stories as history remembered. Yet I think these stories are true. To use familiar terminology, I see these stories as history metaphorized, that is, as metaphorical narratives. And the history that is being metaphorized is not the birth itself but the Jesus story as a whole. With beauty and power, these symbolic narratives express central early Christian convictions about the significance of Jesus…The truly important questions about the birth stories are not whether Jesus was born of a virgin, or whether there was an empire-wide census that took Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem, or whether there was a special star leading wise men from the East. The important questions are, "Is Jesus the light of the world? Is he the true Lord? Is what happened in him 'of God'?" Answering these questions lays claim to our whole lives.

  
How do you come to the Christmas story?

I hope you will take the time to read the stories in Matthew and Luke and then send me your thoughts.
Like all good stories, this story speaks differently to each of us.

While studying for my sermon I came across this sermon by Meister Eckhart, a Christian mystic, theologian and preacher from the 13th century. In one of his Christmas sermons, Eckhart spoke of the virgin birth as something that happens within us. That is, the story of the virgin birth is the story of Christ being born within us through the union of the Spirit of God with our flesh. I think he is right; ultimately, the story of Jesus' birth is not just about the past, but about the internal birth in us in the present.

Sunday Reflection from New Orleans

It's been a while since I posted.
It was a busy week that ended with me and some members from our church (Rich Nelson, Lea Wentdlandt and Gail Barnhart) headed to New Orleans for a mission trip. We are joining other More Light Churches in what is being called Rainbow Corp. The group is staying at a makeshift village that was set up after Katrina, 5 years ago. There are over 30 individuals who have come to be part of Rainbow Corp. They hail from  Rochester, Chicago, Pittsburgh, Houston, Santa Fe and San Antonio!  We are having a great time, and for the most part have been working or sleeping...for the most part...it is NOLA. Here are some photos from Lea's phone, so she isn't in any of them.

I am not preaching this coming week. This is Consecration Sunday, when members bring their financial commitments to worship and we invite a guest preacher to bring the message. But because last week I preached on stewardship and this week will also be about stewardship, I will share some of my sermon and my rationale.

I had some questions rumbling around in my head as I reflected on stewarship:

1. To what are we called to be as the church?
2. What are we asking you to give to?
3. And are we living up to that calling?

I fear that too often we, the church, spend too much our time talking about paying the bills and fixing the organ, or the heater, or paying my salary that we never get around to the work of the church. Yes all these things are important to talk about, but if we spend all our time focused on these issues, we miss so much of our calling as the church.

I used G-3.0200 from our Book of Order as the focus of the sermon. Often times we think of the Book of Order as this boring book of rules and regulations, and it is, but the first four chapters are a beautiful description of the work of the people of God and the church, the body of Christ in the world.

Here are some excerpts from the sermon, let me know what you think...

G-3.0200    The Church of Jesus Christ is the provisional demonstration of what God intends for all of humanity.

As you head out of church today,

you will see the beauty of Madison Square park across the street with the dogs playing in the new dog park,

but you will also see homeless individuals with nowhere to go, you might even see a bed roll hidden behind our bushes.

Monday through Friday, people will come by the church needing help, and these are not homeless, these are the one’s on the edge.

A paycheck or a health problem away from the streets.

Most have already been to CAM and received the help given there…but it isn’t enough.

And so they travel from church to church adding up the small gifts to pay a CPS bill or a late rent.

These are the realities of being a downtown church.

All bus routes sooner or later come by our door and there are no gates at the end of the block.

The news tells us that the gap between the rich and poor in this nation resembles the Gilded Age, when robber barons amassed fortunes at the top and the poor struggled far below,

without the strong middle class that arose in the last century.

As the economy has spiraled down and unemployment has shot up,

we find that large national banks were not only doing very little to work with those in foreclosure, they were in fact speeding up the process. After making their money up front on the loans, which was their plan all along, the banks now make money when people default because the loan was insured. Then taking the property back, the only asset left.

As a nation, we've spent hundreds of billions of dollars on war and the cost of the destruction it brings,

and then we argue over whether we can afford health insurance or good schools for our children.

Perhaps it really isn't that difficult, then,

to imagine how things must have felt for the people of Jerusalem around 475 B.C.E.,

two generations after they returned from exile and tried to rebuild their devastated city.

They remembered the former glory of Jerusalem and its Temple, and they rebuilt

but the new version didn't quite measure up to the glory of Solomon's Temple.

Imagine the prophet Isaiah, walking through the rubble of the city.

Much of the city was still in ruin, including homes and markets,

and many people continued to suffer the effects of oppression and dislocation.

Hunger, thirst, illness and early death, sorrow and grief, economic injustice and political turmoil were the realities of the day. 

Post-exilic Israel was looking at rubble; so are we (The evening news from Afghanistan, Baghdad, or Haiti provides vivid images to help our imaginations.)

Israel may have felt overwhelmed and threatened by empires and forces they couldn't influence let alone control; we feel overwhelmed, too.

Israel may have worried about its children and lamented their deaths as well as the wasted lives of those who toil in vain; we worry and lament, too.

However, it's right in the midst of such despair-inducing circumstances that God speaks and moves

The prophet we call "Third Isaiah" wrote these beautiful words:

Isaiah 65:17-25
65:17 I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind.
65:18 But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight.
65:19 I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress.
65:20 No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed.
65:21 They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.
65:22 They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.
65:23 They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the LORD-- and their descendants as well.
65:24 Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear.
65:25 The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent--its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.

This world Isaiah describes may all sound like a beautiful dream, the dream of God, we might even say,

so let’s leave it to God to finish.

We’ll just stay safe in this beautiful church with this beautiful organ and choir and wait it out!

That’s what all this stewardship stuff is all about isn’t it?

Making sure we can ride out the storm.

Pay the bills. Keep the church electricity on.

The walls painted. The organ pumping. Pay my salary.

But building a new earth???

God surely doesn’t expect us to get involved in this crazy dream!?!  Does God?

Well, it’s a good question and a timely one.

Next week will be Consecration Sunday when we ask you to make your financial commitment to the work of this church…so what is the work of this church?

What do we promise you for your pledge? Two hymns of your choosing? A good parking space?

A short sermon on your birthday?

Well when Presbyterians have a question about church and how we order ourselves there is only one place to go….no not the Bible silly, we were there and didn’t like the answer, so what does our Book of Order say?

Here is how our Book of Order describes the work of the church, in G-3.0200:  The Church is called to be the provisional demonstration of what God intends for all of humanity.

In other words, this God dream is our calling. We are called to start working on this wonderful project of God—Isaiah 65.

 Part of that is what we do here in this space,

creating a place where people encounter God in each other, where we are schooled in God’s ways,

where we receive the countercultural antidote to the values of a culture which is increasingly materialistic and

self-centered, dividing us into isolated consuming units focused in on ourselves. 

 In The Architecture of Happiness Alain de Botton describes home in a way that well describes the church as our spiritual home:

It has provided not only physical but also psychological sanctuary. 

It has been a guardian of identity. 

Over the years, its owners have returned from periods away and, on looking around them, remembered who they were…. 

Although this house may lack solutions to a great many of its occupants’ ills, its rooms nevertheless give evidence of a happiness to which architecture has made its distinctive contribution.

God knows we haven’t always lived up to our ideals – there is no perfect church as there are no perfect people – but here and there and now and then we have embodied the presence of God for one another in a way that gives us “a foretaste of glory Divine,” as the old hymn sings.

So what we do here is important, but actually is secondary to our mission.

Forgetting this may be the greatest failure of the church. 

As one Christian missiologist put it, “They came to us seeking God, and we gave them church instead.” 

We should think of this temple more as our tool shed than the center of our work together, because the primary mission of the church is not what we receive here, but what we do out there, loving people in the name of Christ. 

People who have failed. 

People who are alone and unloved. 

People who are despised and rejected. 

People who have succeeded beyond their wildest imagination but feel desperate to fill their inner emptiness. 

People who are bound and exploited by systems that use their best gifts and give them nothing but money in return, if that. 

People who are wondering what their lives mean, and whether there isn’t some purpose greater than having the latest gizmos, the newest cars, and the latest fashions. 

People who want their lives to matter. 

People whose families have failed them. 

People who have no other family. 

People who think God is about hatred and judgement.  People who need to mature to that place where they are givers as well as takers in mutual, adult relationships. 

And our mission is to embody and extend the gospel further. 

But, because the church, in so many of its concrete manifestations, has excluded people from the love of God, how much more important is it that a church like ours, which seeks to live out the good news of including everyone, is out in the world. 

We have to go to them and love them where they live, in the name of Christ. 

Words like “outreach” and “evangelism” make us nervous because of the intrusive, exploitative behaviors which have been associated with them. 

But love is not intrusive.  Love does not exploit. 

That’s not what those words mean to us. 

Our mission is not to build up our church. 

Our mission is to ask what others need from us,

who needs us to be church to them, who needs the love of God and how can we provide it? 

And that mission is both personal and organizational,

who you are as an individual

and what we do as a community. 

Will Willimon received an angry call from an irate father one day while he was serving as Dean of Duke University Chapel. 

His daughter had been an active part of the chapel community in the Bible studies, service projects, mission trips, all the rest.

She had majored in engineering, was about to graduate magna cum laude with job offers to go anywhere she wanted.

But—because of Willimon’s influence, her father alleged, she had decided she was going to join the Peace Corps instead and spend two years in Haiti working in some impoverished village.

“This is all because of you!” he fumed at Willimon.

“I spent $250,000 on a Duke education. My daughter worked hard for four years and got good grades. And now thanks to you, she has this fool idea to go off and build latrines down in Haiti!” 

“Now just a minute!” Willimon snapped back.

“Don’t blame me!  You joined a church and you were the one who had her baptized! What did you expect when you did that?!” 

The man said, “Hey, we’re Presbyterians. We just thought it was a nice little ceremony.  We didn’t mean anything by it.”

To join yourself to the body of Christ at Madison Square is to know that you are included in the love of God, yes! 

But it also means you accept the mission to embody Christ in the world. 

Not just by the grace of being included,

but this mission of including others…you are saved from the meaningless existence of constant self-focus. 

You get a life that is abundant and valuable. 

You become part of the life the Christ in the world.

A steward of God’s love…justice…and peace.

Sunday 11/7 Reflection

In the sermon and service, I wanted to reflect on just who we call Saint. We don’t talk a lot about saints in the presbyterian church, so I hoped to shed some light on how we might see saints at Madison Square.

The traditional way of choosing a saint, involves a very extensive process that includes proof of miracles and canonization by the Pope. Oh yes, one must be Catholic. The reformation brought some changes in interpretation. Luther strongly opposed the Catholic understanding of saint (see my previous post). For Luther, all Christians were saints. For me though, this still seems limiting. If a saint is someone that God’s light and love shines through, then who are we to say who God uses. A buddhist saint? Why not. An athiest saint? I’m sure. How about the lowly, the poor, those who weep, those who hunger? Yes, I am sure of it.

I especially loved the music this Sunday. The songs chosen by the choir were a beautiful reflection on saints. And I loved the hymn we sang to end out service, I Sing a Song of the Saints of God, what a strange little ditty.

With lines like:

            And one was a soldier and one was a priest, and one was slain by a fierce wild beast!

Who was slain by a fierce wild beast??? I wanna know!

But I do love the last line of each verse that says:

            For the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.

Notes from my sermons: Un Dia de Los Santos

Last Sunday, was Halloween-All Hollow’s Eve. Hallows means Saints. Makes sense then that November 1^st is All Saint’s Day…a day to remember all saints known and unknown…Which in some religious circles doesn’t include you and me.

So November 2^nd was named All Souls Day for the rest of us.

In our Presbyterian church calendar you will find that All Souls Day is not celebrated…since we are a little more open to whom we call the saints of the church.

Maybe that is the reason I love Dia de los Muertos, the Latin American version of this time that mushes together the celebrations of All Saints and All Souls. Dia de los Muertos celebrates that there is a little bit of the santo and sinner, holy and muerto in each of us.

Un Dia de los Santos…the incredible truth of All Santos Day is that every one of us is a saint in the eyes of God. We do not have to pass some sanctification test to be a saint in the eyes of God.  God choose us, God claims us, to be vessels through whom the light shines.

When I began my study on the scripture for this Sunday, my mind went to Saint John.

When I was a 9 or 10, John was not a particularly holy man.

Not an ardent defender of the poor. Not a figure of deep wisdom.

He was just another odd friend of my older brother, who seemed to gather around him a strange group of

freaks and geeks, jocks and glee clubers that had nothing in common except that my brother was their friend.

John was not what we called back then “cool”, his clothes were not hip or modern, they looked more like he picked them from a pile with no care for color or pattern, wrinkle or stain. His eyes were bad, so bad that he wore thick glasses that were always oily and dirty.

I am embarrassed to admit that my sister and I found it fun to laugh at John…to make fun of the way he talked and dressed, his lack of intelligence and social skill.

That is…until my brother caught us one time, and explained that John didn’t have any other friends at school and was regularly picked on.

He said that John had a very tough family life.

That’s why he liked being with our mom and family.

That’s why John ate a lot of dinners at our house and spent so much time at our house.

But my brother also said, for all his shortcomings, John was the most loyal friend anyone could have.

That he would do anything for any of us. And maybe we should think of all that before we thought to make fun of him.

It is an All Saints miracle, that somehow, John showed me something about God.

What I learned through my adolescence, high school and college years, as John became part of our families life.

Is that, for all his lowly behavior, John simply cared.  He cared for people, no matter how they responded or reacted to him. And he seemed to care for a wide range of people.

I learned that to speak with the lowly John Jeffries was to experience a freedom from pretension or anxiety.

There was no need to impress him, or to brag, or even to complain or ask for things.

His emptiness provided a safe place for me to know myself, to know life, and, indeed, to know God.

The first verse of the Beatitudes, according to Luke says: "Blessed are you who are poor; for yours is the reign of God." I thought about John when I heard this verse. He was poor materially…during his early life with his father there wasn’t much to go around and he struggled financially in his adult life after high school when he was on his own. Later in his life, he was often poor spiritually. He was truly low…depressed, although we didn’t know it. Those last 10 years of his life we didn’t see him much, but when we did you could tell his spirit had been crushed….that he was poor and alone. Come on by and say hi, my parents would encourage when we bumped into him. I will, I will…he would say.

Biblical scholars have long pointed out the curious difference between the Beatitudes according to Luke, and the Beatitudes according to Matthew. Most of us recite Matthew's version: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."

Luke's version, the one we read today, is starker and more bare; there we read, "Blessed are the poor." Period.

Blessed are the poor. Blessed are the poor in spirit. A saint will be someone who knows emptiness.

Someone who needs no pretense or deceit. So today I remember Saint John. 

Some of you may be uncomfortable with my naming a saint that has taken his own life.

But let me simply remind you of the faith statement from scripture that is central to my faith in God…Romans 8

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,
nor height, nor depth, nor anything else, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

It is not just the radiantly holy and the astoundingly wise who are saints.

Not just the pure in heart and those with 100% church attendance.

Saints are the people God’s light shines through.

Blessed are the saints.

Blessed are you who are poor, said Jesus.

Blessed are you who hunger and thirst,

Blessed are you who weep.

Blessed are those who mourn.

Blessed are the meek.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Saints that are not just the stars, not just those whose works have outshone rest.

But most of us are not superstar saints.

We are those who mourn and weep, who are hungry and thirsty for things.

The saints I have known, whether poor or rich, weeping or laughing, hungry or full, have somehow pointed me to God in whatever they have been experiencing.

The saints are those, in every generation, who show us God's love affair with humanity.

Here at Madison Square, we've known a lot more saints than just the famous ones. We have known the non-descript, the bumbling, and the inept ones. The justly proud and the overly humble.  The wonderfully capable and the woefully decrepit. We've known the poor in spirit, those who are empty enough to show us God.

At some point, each of them has provided a space for us to know God.

We have known Saint John, over and over again.

Scripture for Sunday

This Sunday we will not use the lectionary for the day, but instead the passages for All Saints Day.
Scriptures:

• Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18 and Psalm 149  • 
• Ephesians 1:11-23  • 
• Luke 6:20-31

Luke 6:20-31

6:20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the Reign of God.
6:21 "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. "Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
6:22 "Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Messiah.
6:23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
6:24 "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.
6:25 "Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. "Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.
6:26 "Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
6:27 "But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,
6:28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.
6:29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt.
6:30 Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.
6:31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.

In the Gospel reading from Luke 6 for All Saints Day, Jesus identifies the blessed in stark terms.  These words attributed to Jesus begin his "Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew (5:1-7:29) and his "Sermon on the Plain" in Luke (6:17-49). Luke's version of the address is briefer, more sharply stated, marked by contrasts between "you" who are blessed and "you" who are judged/damned. In Luke, Jesus spoke directly to his followers. Matthew's version is preferred for its poetic elegance. In Luke's account, this is Jesus' second major policy statement of his reign (see also Luke 4:14-30) in the force of prophetic address.

Jesus' direct speech is disquieting, compelling the listener to ask, "Who me?"

Jesus focuses first on his disciples (6:20) within "a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon" (6:17). With the crowds, we overhear his words, wondering if he means it only for the twelve. Then we find ourselves specifically included in verse 27 among "you that listen." Jesus is not delivering an abstract definition of discipleship or sainthood. He is not listing the qualifications to "get into heaven." He is calling all to hear to become faithful and effective agents of God's reign here and now.

The Festival of All Saints dates to May 13, 609 (or maybe 610) when Pope Boniface IV consecrated the Pantheon in Rome to the Blessed Virgin and all the martyrs. Pope Gregory III is credited with first moving the festival to its present date of November 1. After the Reformation, the celebration was retained in Anglican and most Lutheran churches.

So who is a saint?

In the Roman Catholic tradition, someone receiving the title of “Saint” has been officially recognized by the Catholic Church (canonized) and therefore believed to be in Heaven. Leonard Foley, OFM, editor of the book Saint of the Day, says of saints that their “…surrender to God’s love was so generous an approach to the total surrender of Jesus that the Church recognizes them as heroes or heroines worthy to be held up for our inspiration. They remind us that the Church is holy, can never stop being holy and is called to show the holiness of God by living the life of Christ.”

Luther would expand the idea of sainthood to include all Christians on earth and in heaven. In Luther’s Commentary on Galatians (1531), Luther says:

When we have repudiated this foolish and wicked notion about the name “saints” which we suppose applies only to the saints in heaven, and on earth to hermits and monks who perform some sort of spectacular work let us now learn from the writings of the apostles that all believers in Christ are saints (Luther’s Works 27:83).

For Luther, it was nothing the Christian does of his or her own accord that made for saintliness; it was through Jesus that we are made holy.

So, in other words, saints are not called saints because they are without sin or have become saintly through works, but rather through the Spirit that flows through us into the world.

Pastor Sharon Lewis writes, “As we remember the saints who have gone before, who have lived lives of faith, and who struggled with the temptations and evil of the world, let us also remember as we look around, that we are in the company of saints. So when one of God’s people asks you who and what a “saint” really is, you may look that person in the eye and say “Saint who? Saint YOU—everyday saint and sinner, made holy through God.”

Sunday 10/31 Sermon Reflection

What kind of person are you?

Are you the kind that will humbly admit when you are wrong?

Simply say, “I was wrong.” “I was misinformed.”

“I didn’t know.” “Thank you for educating me.”

Or…do you stick to your guns…even when you begin to realize you are wrong.

Will you try to win an argument even though you know you are wrong?

How far are you willing to go to protect a flawed idea?

Or to overlook a mistaken assumption?

Or to keep intact a broken theory?

Global Climate Change…

The Presidents Birth Certificate…

Weapons of Mass Destruction…

Larry King is a robot…oh, that one is just me?

/////////////

When it comes to some of our cherished theological formulas, apparently many of us are willing to go pretty far.

Mark Marty reminded me of Galileo who’s achievements in the 17^th century, included:

·      building the first high-powered astronomical telescope;

·      showing that the velocities of falling bodies are not proportional to their weights;

·      coming up with the ideas behind Newton's laws of motion;

·      and confirming the Copernican theory of the solar system.

All those things we learned in school as fact, but…

because he believed that the planets revolved around the sun, and not the Earth, Galileo was denounced as a heretic by the church in Rome.

And if Galileo was correct, then the church and it’s teachings, that the earth was the center of the universe was wrong…and that just couldn’t be.

Galileo faced the Inquisition and was forced to renounce those beliefs publicly…of course his theories proved to be correct.

So how long did it take the church to admit they were wrong?

The Vatican officially acquitted Galileo in 1993, 360 years after his indictment.

Now that is stubborn ignorance in the face of truth.

Another, case in point could be this story about Zacchaeus,

which I – and apparently most interpreters over the ages – have taught to be a classic repentance story.

You know how the story goes…

Zaccheaus, this wee little man, goes searching for Jesus.

But Jesus is searching for him, he has some explaining to do, he’s been a bad man…just listen to the grumbling crowd. Zacchaeus, means "clean" or "innocent,” but as a tax collector, he is un-clean and a sinner. No respectable person, no observant, faithful person should go to Zacchaeus’ home and eat with him. But, praise Jesus, Zacchaeus realizes his sins, confesses, repents and is forgiven. Jesus proclaims, “Look salvation has come to this house for he too is a descendent of Abraham and Sarah.”

Great story, with it’s own song to boot! All about the need to confess so God can forgive you and you can receive salvation. But in the spirit of a faith reformed, always in need of being reformed… what if this isn't what the story is about at all?

You see there is some disagreement on how to translate this passage.

It’s a minor change to a sentence but possibly a major change to the meaning of the story.

Bruce Malina points out that the verb tenses here for "give" and "pay back" are present tense, and NOT future tense as shown in most English translations: "will give," "will pay back." So contrary to most contemporary translations (including both the NRSV and NIV), the tense of the verbs in Zacchaeus' declaration in the 8^th verse are present tense, not future tense. The affect this has on the story is this…now Zacchaeus isn't pledging, "Look, half of my possessions I will give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much."

That’s the way we grew up being told the story,  but what if instead, Zacchaeus is boasting (probably in response to the grumbling of the crowd),

"Look, half of my possessions I give to the poor...[and] I pay back four times" – as in right now, already, as a matter of practice.

The Message actually has an honest translation of Verses 7-8:

Everyone who saw the incident was indignant and grumped, "What business does he have getting cozy with this crook?"

Zacchaeus just stood there, a little stunned. He stammered apologetically, "Master, I give away half my income to the poor—and if I'm caught cheating, I pay four times the damages."

Richard Swanson writes in his book, Provoking the Gospel of Luke, “The surprise in this story is that the outcast is the observant one. This is a scene of revelation, not of redemption."

So what's going on with the disagreement in tense?

Well, it turns out those who translate the verbs as future tense appeal to a grammatical category called a present-future tense or futuristic present.

The funny thing with this interpretation is…if you look in Greek grammer, it will tell you there is this thing called a futuristic present, that sometimes the present tense is used to explain future actions…and then it will say…see Luke 19:8.

Yes, that's right: the only occurrence of this verb tense is Luke 19:8. Rather than translate this sentence in the present tense – which of course would not fit with interpreting this as a repentance scene – a new grammatical category has been created that occurs once and only once.

So what's up with that?

Well, maybe they are right and this is the only place this present future tense is used…

But it could also be… some flawed ideas die hard, and one of the most cherished Christian ideas is that you have to repent, ask for forgivness, to receive God’s forgiveness.

Notice that Zacchaeus does not repent of his occupation; he does not give up being a chief tax collector. Like all of us, Zacchaeus remains compromised, impure, sinning.

 One possible moral of this story is to realize that salvation does not require, nor result in, perfection. Salvation in this lifetime is not about the end state. Salvation is the process, the healing and reconciling that is needed for creating right relationships within which compromised, impure, and sinful people - like us - can live within, in response to, and toward, the realm of God.

Many of us struggle to imagine that God would just forgive sin, apart from some meaningful repentance.

After all, if God just forgave us, what would become of God's justice?

What if, however,  God doesn't care as much about justice as we do?

That is, what if justice wasn't the primary category God uses all along?

Maybe justice is our way of tracking each other,

our way of defining each other,

our way of keeping count, of keeping score,

of following who's in and who's out,

who's up and who's down.

If this is so, if God's love regularly trumps God's justice –

and I believe this is Jesus life and death message –

then we're operating with flawed categories.

God, Jesus, the whole biblical story, as it turns out, isn't primarily about justice but about relationship, God's deep, abiding, tenacious desire to be in relationship with each and all of us.