Friday, March 22, 2013

A Prophets' Lot



Sermon preached on Friday, March 22, 2013 in the Interim Chapel of Virginia Theological Seminary, Alexandria, VA
Jeremiah 20:7-13; John 10:31-42

When I started looking at the readings for today to prepare my sermon, the first thing that came to my mind was the Gilbert & Sullivan opera ‘Pirates of Penzance.’ That gives you an interesting insight into how my mind works! It’s the refrain of the Policeman’s Song that I was thinking of, with the words:

When constabulary duty’s to be done, to be done
A policeman’s lot is not a happy one, (happy one)

Except that I wanted to substitute the word Prophet for Policeman: For when the prophetic duty’s to be done, a prophet’s lot really is not a happy one!
It really isn’t. Speaking God’s word and God’s truth can be a very dangerous game. In the Gospel reading we heard how Jesus escapes from what is – according to my count – the fifth attempt to kill or capture him in John’s account of events. Isn’t it a little ironic, considering the pre- and post-Reformation work/faith debates, that while Jesus reminds the crowd of the many good works he has shown them, they want to stone him for his lack of faith, for blasphemy? The prophetic truth that was so dangerous to tell in Jesus’ case was the truth about himself, about his mission, and about the relationship he shared with his Father.  

Then when we hear how Jesus “went away again across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing earlier” we are reminded how deadly dangerous prophecy was for John the Baptist! Speaking up to the powerful and privileged cost him his life.

The prophet Jeremiah was not very happy either, but then some would say he never was. According to one commentator, “he lamented and complained mightily!”[1] And with good reason, for sometimes he really felt as if God had taken advantage of him: “O Lord you have enticed me, you have overpowered me.” (Jeremiah 20:7) He felt driven to prophesy, to warn, and to admonish, although the task he had been given was both thankless and seemingly fruitless: Israel would not repent. But then God had told him what it would be like: “You shall speak all these words to them, but they will not listen to you. You shall call to them, but they will not answer you.” (Jeremiah 7:27) Had he been tricked? After all God had appointed him not only “to destroy and to overthrow,” but also “to build and to plant.” (Jeremiah 1:10), yet so far all he had been able to say or shout was ‘violence and destruction!’ Not only did the people not listen to him, they got very angry at him, they mocked him, denounced him, and even waited for an opportunity to take their revenge on him.

Yet despite threats and persecution Jeremiah kept to his calling. Two things sustained him in his cause. The first thing is what he calls in today’s reading “something like a burning fire shut up in my bones” – an irresistible prophetic inspiration, the presence of God’s Spirit within him. The second thing that kept Jeremiah going was the vision of a just and righteous community for all that would follow the short-term disaster he had to warn Israel about. He was sure in his hope of restoration, of a better future for Israel, and of a new covenant.

At today’s service we are also commemorating James De Koven, Priest. He helped introduce the principles and practices of the Oxford Movement, or Anglo-Catholicism as later became known, into the American Episcopal Church. We probably forget just how much he and others changed how our church worships. Although we do have some additional, and more exceptional elements of ritual at today’s service, quite literally the ‘smells and bells’ of incense and a Sanctus bell, most of the other practices De Koven and others fought for are in fact now mainstream: our vestments, altar hangings, altar candles, the sign of the cross etc.

James De Koven also suffered for his convictions. Holy Women, Holy Men tells us that “because of his advocacy of the ‘ritualist’ cause, consents were not given to his consecration as Bishop of Wisconsin in 1874, and of Illinois in1875,”[2] although he had been duly elected by the people of those dioceses. In 1874 De Koven described his convictions and the vision that sustained him as follows: “You may take away from us … every external ceremony …. But to adore Christ’s Person in his Sacrament – that is the inalienable privilege of every Christian and Catholic heart. How we do it, … the ceremonies with which we do it, are utterly, utterly, indifferent. The thing itself is what we plead for.”[3]

As current and future lay or ordained leaders in the Church we are all called on to be both prophets and witnesses. I pray that we will be as steadfast and courageous in speaking and witnessing to God’s truth, as Jeremiah and James De Koven were: especially when we meet resistance or our task sometimes seems thankless or fruitless. I pray that we too will be sustained by God’s Spirit within us and God’s vision before us to seek, speak, and preach the truth. The truth that God loves all human beings, that God values all of creation, and that all of us are made in God’s image. The truth that our calling as human beings is to love God more than all material possessions and worldly success and to love all others as ourselves. These are simple truths, but still not the truths everyone wants to hear.  

Let me finish with a prayer partially and loosely based on the Collect for James De Koven:
Almighty and everlasting God, inspire us, like your servants Jeremiah and James De Koven to do what is right and to preach what is true. Grant that we may impart to your faithful people, as prophets and witnesses, the knowledge of your grace. This we ask in the name of the one whom you sanctified and sent into the world, your Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.  
Amen


[1] F. Rutledge, And God Spoke to Abraham, Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2011, 325
[2] Holy Women, Holy Men, Church Publishing, New York, 2010, 282
[3] Ibid, 282

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Just Desserts?



Sermon preached on March 3, 2013 (8.00 and 11.15) at St. David’s Episcopal Church, Washington, DC
Third Sunday in Lent: Exodus 3:1-15, Psalm 63, 1 Corinthians 10:1-13, Luke 13:1-9

Do you remember what happened to you as a child when you did something wrong, when you didn’t do as you were told, when you broke something you were not supposed to play with, when – by accident of course (at least that was my excuse) – you managed to hurt your little brother or sister? I got told off; in some way my parents, mostly my mother, showed her displeasure and if it was particularly bad then I was also ‘punished.’ Sometimes I was sent to my room for a time-out or some sort of privilege was withdrawn. On the other hand if I was very good, either at school or at home, then I received a reward: perhaps a treat like a trip to the cinema, or some extra pocket money. This is all part of our education and formation: how we are taught right behavior.

This ‘training’ does not stop when we grow up, does it? High performers are rewarded: with a bonus, a promotion, a bigger office, a company car…. And conversely for those who do not ‘perform’ some sort of punishment follows – in the most extreme cases it can include the loss of their job. So it is not surprising that since time immemorial people have turned this experience of reward and punishment around: If something really bad happens to a person, or to a group of people, then clearly they must have done something very wrong to deserve it. While if something good happens to a person or group of people, then it must be a reward for good behavior, not from a parent in this case, but from the gods or from God. As the Book of Proverbs (3:33) puts it: “the Lord’s curse is on the house of the wicked, but he blesses the abode of the righteous.” 

This seems to be the attitude of those people who, in today’s gospel passage, have come to see Jesus to tell him what had happened recently to some Galileans at the Temple in Jerusalem. ‘Hey Jesus, did you hear about the Galileans Pilate had killed in the Temple? They must have been really bad to get punished like this. Oh and by the way – which part of the country did you say you came from?’ Let us not forget that at this stage in Luke’s Gospel Jesus, the man from Galilee, is on his way to Jerusalem. And we know of course that Jesus will have his own deadly encounter with the Roman Governor Pontius Pilate.

So I think there is also some irony in Jesus’ reply: “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No I tell you.” When Jesus of Nazareth in Galilee suffers on the cross it is certainly not because he was a worse sinner, just the opposite! So the first point Jesus makes, one that he goes on to emphasize with his own example of the eighteen people killed when the tower of Siloam (part of the city walls of Jerusalem) fell on them, is that these events were not a sign of judgment on or some kind of divine punishment for sinners.

This teaching was not new, even in Jesus’ day. Of course there are plenty of passages in the Bible that support the idea of there being a direct connection between our behavior and our treatment on earth, but we also find evidence of a “dissenting opinion.” Just think of the story of Job who suffers despite being “blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.” (Job 1:1) In fact one could argue that it was because he was blameless that he was punished – as a test! The author of Ecclesiastes, that’s the book the group the Byrds made famous with their song “Turn, Turn, Turn,” also negates any direct connection between our behavior and divine reward.

Unfortunately the other idea of there being a direct connection between human behavior and divine reward or punishment is still alive today. Just think of those preachers who claimed, or still claim, that AIDS was God’s punishment for gay people or those who see natural catastrophes such as Hurricane Katrina as divine retribution. I do wish they would take Jesus’ teaching in today’s passage to heart. As is so often the case Jesus’ answers are surprising. The whole passage is indeed about judgment, but it is not the Galileans or the eighteen killed in Jerusalem who are being judged, it is those who assumed they were better, those who were complacent, and those who wanted to put themselves in God’s place as a judge. This is the message we already find earlier in Luke (6:45) in the parable of the man with a log in his eye who points out the small speck in another’s. It ends with the words: “You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.”

Unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did, Jesus goes on to tell his listeners. What do we mean by repent – such an important word in this season of Lent? The dictionary[1] offers the following definition:
1.      To feel remorse, contrition, or self-reproach for what one has done or failed to do.
2.      To feel such regret for past conduct as to change one's mind regarding it.
3.      To make a change for the better as a result.

Or to put it in biblical terms, repentance consists of both a change of mind (metanoia) and of direction: the Hebrew word (teshuva) literally means to turn 180° to face God again (which here has me facing the altar). Repentance is not required to earn a reward or to avoid punishment. But it is required to set our relationship right and as an expression of our faith in and our response to the love of God. It’s not that we do not know what we can and should do to further God’s purposes and to help bring about God’s reign or kingdom. To quote from the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams: “God’s purpose is the formation of unrestricted community … the destruction of barriers between hostile or indifferent groups of people, and the challenging of all the ways in which human beings enshrine separation from each other and superiority to each other.”[2] So the very act of human judgment, of distinguishing between sinners and the supposed sinless is an example of the behavior that stands in the way of God’s purpose because it enshrines separation and superiority. No wonder Jesus condemns it so strongly!

It is of course not easy to change our ways, the neighbor we are supposed to love as ourselves does not always seem that loveable, and very often other things seem more important than the God we are called to love with all our heart and mind and soul. We tend to assume that it’s not so urgent and that we still have plenty of time to change ourselves or the society we are part of.

But as Jesus makes clear, using the drastic examples of the two tragedies, we do not have plenty of time. The time is now, not later today or tomorrow. Acting rightly and justly is always urgent and does not brook any delay. In the parable of the fig tree we find a similar sense of urgency. After three years a fig tree is mature and should be bearing fruit, otherwise it is just wasting space and stealing nourishment from the other plants. It has had enough time to do what it is supposed to do. So understandably the owner wants to cut it down and start again.

Thankfully God is not like the owner in the parable. Instead God is like the gardener who is willing to invest time and effort to help the fig tree do what it is intended to do. Rather than just time and effort, God invested God’s own Son to tell us, no to show us, who we are supposed to be and what we are supposed to do. Out of love God gives us much more than one chance and much more than one year to bear fruit. But that does not make the need for repentance and change any less urgent.

The job of a preacher is to find and proclaim the good news in the Scripture assigned for the day. On first sight it is difficult to see the good news in the two stories of violence and tragedy we heard this morning, just as it is even more difficult to see the good news when we experience violence and tragedy in real life. But it is there. The good news is that God does not give us what we deserve. God gives us much more than that. Instead of a love that is conditional on our behavior, God promises unconditional love and unlimited forgiveness if we want and ask for it. This is the same good news that came out of another violent death, the death of Jesus on the cross. Repentance, a change of mind and of direction, is our response to this promise, not its pre-condition. Now while this should by no means be limited to Lent, this is the season for self-examination and is therefore a good time to take stock. So let us take the time to think about where, when and how we have not lived up to who we are supposed to be and like the fig tree have not borne fruit. How can we make a change for the better? How can we make that change now? How can God in Christ help us do it?
Amen


[1] www.thefreedictionary.com/repent
[2] Rowan Williams, A Ray of Darkness: Sermons and Reflections, 222