Fourth Sunday after Pentecost: Ch-ch-changes

Saturday, June 7, 2008

RCA Texts for this week: Genesis 12:1-9, Psalm 33:1-12 or Psalm 50:7-15, Romans 4:13-25, Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

The texts this week are rather unsettling. In fact, they're quite literally unsettling. We start with Abram who, at 75, God commands to leave everything he's ever known and set out for a new country.  Matthew tells us today of the calling of one of the disciples. A man with a job and we have to assume family. Jesus walks into his life and turns everything upside down.

I borrowed a book (The Alchemist) from a friend this week. It's quite an enchanting fable about a simple shepherd boy who takes a big risk, leaves everything he's ever known behind, and goes off in search of his own personal treasure. Like Abram, and Matthew, and the rest of the disciples the young boy in this story had things pretty well in hand. He had a job, some stability, and plans for the future. And then someone walked into his life and turned it all upside down. Pretty soon he was off getting into a great deal of trouble and danger and wondering along the way why he'd ever left his comfortable hillsides and friendly sheep behind.

These aren't just Abram's or Matthew's stories; they're our story. Most of us are pretty comfortable, I know I was. I had a good job, a very cozy house, a garden coming along quite well, a circle of friends, and family close by. For the last eight years I've been living the American dream. Guess what, so had Abram, who had accumulated quite a bit of wealth, enough to see himself comfortable for the rest of his days. And the thing about being comfortable is, it generates a great deal of inertia. I wonder if Matthew, James, John, Peter, Mary Magdalene and the rest were comfortable? Did they think they had things pretty well worked out? Often while everything might look right in our lives, and while we might be pretty happy, there is something missing.

We know it's not there, we know there is "something else" but we can't quite put our finger on what it is. You could call that nameless "thing" by a lot of names. You could say it is your destiny, or your calling, or your heart's desire. All sound pretty good, but it isn't usually that easy. Do you think it was easy for Abram, in his old age, to uproot his family and cross dangerous terrain to settle in a new place? The story doesn't give us much detail but imagine what his wife thought of this crazy idea. Imagine his neighbors' whispers: surely he's gone mad!


And the disciples? Called away from their fishing nets some leave their elderly father behind, others leave families, stable jobs, and wealth. They give up everything to follow a penniless, homeless, wandering teacher.

But you could say, God talked to Abram! And it was Jesus calling those disciples to follow him, that's easy! Is it? Do you think God spoke in Abram's ear? Do you really think that God drew the old man a map and laid everything out neatly for him? Do you think Jesus walked around with a glowing halo that let everyone know that this preacher was worth following? The world was full of wandering teachers and healers in first century Palestine, they were everywhere. No, I think it is far more likely that Abram, Mary, Matthew, and Peter all did something far more amazing than accepting hand written instructions from the Most High. I believe they listened to that quiet inner prompting that we too hear. To the tiny inner urgings telling us that God has more for us to do than just get by.  And I don't think it was easy for them to make that change either.

I am turning my household upside down, becoming a landlord, quitting a job I quite enjoy, leaving behind family and friends, not because God stood in my living room and told me to move to Austin Texas and pursue ordination, but because the quiet insistent inner voice kept urging me to something more than the American dream.

The same friend who loaned me that book has expressed a similar feeling of dissatisfaction. She's got a lot of reasons to stay safely in her own land, just like Abram. But like Abram she's beginning to listen to the quiet voice of God within. The voice that tells her there is more for her to do. Abram didn't listen to that voice and get up and go until he was 75! And thank goodness! Because if he hadn't we might despair. We might say: it's too late for me.

Through Abram, who at the end of his life became Abraham and the father of three faiths, God is whispering to us that it is never too late. To pursue our dreams, to work toward the Kingdom, indeed to follow Jesus. For some of us that might mean leaving a job, and family, and everything we have known. For others it might mean picking up an instrument we put away in childhood and making offering again of that part of ourselves. For others it might mean volunteering our time and skills to help others, instead of putting in that overtime at work.  I can't tell you what God is calling you to do, only you can know that. Only you can listen to the quiet voice within calling "Follow me."  But I can tell you that God is calling, no matter who you are, or where you are.  God is urging you to a more faithful, more authentic, more complete life.

Only you can choose to take a chance, and follow.

Trinity Sunday

Sunday, May 18, 2008

It is "Trinity Sunday" today in the Episcopal church; otherwise known as the Sunday priests all across our nation try with all their might to explain to their congregations a concept that completely and totally baffles them (the priests, not the congregation)!

I'm never one to shrink from something I don't understand, or to be afraid to tackle the unexplainable. So here it comes: Trinity Sunday.

Genesis 1: "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters."
A wind from God, what an amazing image. In the formless chaos before creation God creates wind from God's own self. God breathes. And then God speaks the first words: "Let there be light." God breathes, God acts, God speaks. But wait, this is Trinity Sunday. Shouldn't I be explaining about how the wind is the Holy Spirit; and the Word, that's Jesus; and well then God is, well, God...

Except the Jewish people who told this story didn't have our concept of the Trinity. This isn't a story about "The Trinity," this is a story about God. A God who speaks, and acts, and breathes. You notice, God doesn't even have a name here. All the god's around the Hebrews had names, like Baal, and Ra, and later still Zues. God though, their God and our God, is only God.

Our psalm today ends: "O LORD our Governor, how exalted is your Name in all the world!" and our canticle:
"Glory to you, Lord God of our fathers; *
you are worthy of praise; glory to you.
Glory to you for the radiance of your holy Name; *
we will praise you and highly exalt you for ever. "
All these mentions of God's Name, and yet do you notice, its missing. The Hebrews finally gave God a name that couldn't be pronounced. We don't even bother with that, we just say God. Not a name, but a title. There used to be thousands of little gods, every one of them with a name. We have God.

What does this have to do with Trinity Sunday? I think it has quite a lot. You see every year we try to explain the unexplainable. Every year we try to name the unnameable. I hope you'll forgive me if I quote the Tao te Ching. The opening words of that ancient sacred text begin:
The tao that can be told
is not the eternal Tao
The name that can be named
is not the eternal Name.
There is great truth here. I was in college when I first read those words and I remember vividly stopping in the middle of the University library and sitting down on the floor to read them again, very slowly. As I read I felt a flower of understanding opening in my heart and in my mind. My soul said yes!

I can't explain the Trinity to you today. Not if we had a hundred years to sit together and discuss nothing else. Not if all of humanity sat down together and pondered nothing else for a thousand years, because God cannot be named. The God who has no name, and a thousand names, and who is too great for any name, moves and acts and speaks and breathes.

God cannot be explained by any doctrine, or constrained by any name. I did a search while writing this for "names of God," and I found a website that listed all the "names" of God from Hebrew and Christian scripture. Now most of them would hardly sound like proper names to you or I, but the list numbered over a thousand and I'm sure we here could think of more. Our God is a God of a thousand names, and all togehter they are insufficient. Yahweh, Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Creator, Redeemer, Holy One, Lord, Mighty One, Savior, Deliverer, Shield, Righteous One, El-Olam, El-Berith, Abba.

If you want to understand God, then my friend, you are in the wrong place. The closest we've ever come were the words spoken to Moses: "I am that I am." or more literally and I think excitingly "I-shall-be that I-shall-be." We cannot name God. Neither can we divide or define God. That is why there are a great many preachers this morning sweating over sermons for Trinity Sunday.

That does not mean the Trinity is not important, or valid. Oh no, just the opposite. The uniquely Christian doctrine of the Triune nature of God is so very important because it is so impossible. If I could explain it to you in ten minutes, or in a lifetime it would be horribly and irrevocably flawed. It would be too small and too simple for the awesome impossibility that is God. God who moves, and speaks, and breathes, and acts. God who is, and was, and is to come. God who bears a thousand names, yet cannot be named.

If you are confused by the Trinity, you're in good company. And you have it exactly right. Because God is bigger than our names and yet God has chosen to reveal God's self through those names. God has chosen to draw God's awesome and infinite self down to fit infinity into a name. Holy One, Yahweh, Jesus, Spirit, Love. God who is the source of all things, and the destination of all things. God who is both Son, and Father, and Spirit. God who created time itself in its mind twisting infinity. And God who fits within each of our hearts, dwelling fully within us to comfort, to guide, to challenge, and to inspire.

Indeed God is Great, and Good, and Holy. God who cannot be named and yet to allows His essence to dwell within a name that we can grasp: Abba/God. God who cannot be named and yet dwelt fully within a human who bore an ordinary name: Jesus/God. God who cannot be named and yet dwells within you and I as She inspires and fires us: Spirit/God. And for that great mystery; thanks be to God. Amen.

Lectionary Meditation: As you live

Saturday, April 26, 2008

A short meditation this week. I've been a little busy with things like seminary applications and the GRE.

John 14:15-21

15 "If you love me, you will keep my commandments.

16 And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. 17 This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

18 "I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. 19 In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. 20 On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. 21 They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them."

I thought I was going to talk to you today about commandments.  When I first read the Gospel for this week that first line seemed a wonderful place to start.  It allows us to talk about love, and Christ's command that we love one another.  It seemed like a much needed message in a week when I read about bombings, shootings, thwarted bombings, and accidents.  But as I sat with the text preparing to write I heard another voice; and all because I misread a line.
'In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live.'
You see I sat reading the Gospel and I saw the words "because you live, I also will live."  It's an easy inversion for the eyes to make.  But it struck me deeply.  "because I live, you live.  because you live, I live."  And I thought, is this not truly Jesus' commandment for us?

Do our lives tell the Gospel story?  Do our lives give Christ flesh and blood today?  Does Christ live in us?  Those are big questions, they could be a frightening burden. They could be something we can never hope to live up to.

I have a story for you. It's a story about me, and it's not one I'm proud of.  A few weeks ago I got rear ended and my car spent a few days in the body shop.  The body shop was a few miles from my office so when the car was ready I headed across town after work eager to pick it up. Instead of taking the highway I decided to cut across on surface streets.  Between one light and the next the neighborhood changed from shiny new office buildings and streets filled with BMWs and Audis to old houses with winter shabby yards and cheaper, older cars.  There were people walking with shopping bags, and sitting on porches.  There were a couple boarded up houses, and bars on all the store windows.  My urban instincts told me this was an "iffy" neighborhood!

My heart rate went up a little and I suddenly wished I'd taken the express way.  I checked to make sure the doors were locked.  I wanted out of there!  I reacted with fear and distress to people because they looked different, dressed differently, had less.  I made snap judgements about my safety based on the neighborhood around me.  I'm not proud of it, and my heart was not Christ-like in those worried minutes. 

But then I saw up ahead a familiar sign, a blue and white and red shield.   You all know the one, there's one outside our church as well.  I immediately felt safer, more at home, my worry settled down and I was able to look around more clearly.  I was able to see my own reaction, and how unreasonable it was, and I was able to ask forgiveness and continue on my journey calmly.

Fear features often in the Gospel.   Jesus tells his disciples not to be afraid, angels tell Mary and the shepherds not to fear.  Fear features often because fear is something we all experience.  We all know what it is to feel alone, lost, foreign, and afraid.  Even church can cause fear.  Some of us grew up in churches that preached a pretty fearful message of damnation for many. Every evening when we turn on the news the fact that our world is not as God intended becomes painfully obvious, doesn't it?  And we sit perhaps, feeling small and helpless.  How can we be Christ to billions of people who are starving, suffering, and dying?  The fear of failure can stop us before we've even begun.

It would be one thing for Jesus to tell us yet again not to be afraid but it wouldn't help.  We'd still feel that fear.  So Jesus does more.  Knowing our fear and loneliness, Jesus gives us what I think may be the most reassuring words of scripture.  

Jesus promises that we are never alone.  The Spirit is with us as our guide, our protector, and our Advocate.  Jesus tells his disciples, and us, that we never need feel alone again because: 'he abides with you, and he will be in you.'  Does that mean we'll never feel afraid or unequal to the task before us?  Hardly!  Just as I felt overcome by irrational fear we will all find ourselves in places where we are afraid.

But in those places when we are afraid we can remember Jesus' promise.  God is with us, as our Advocate.  I looked up advocate in my dictionary because I often like to see where our words come from and what is their root.  Advocate is from the Latin word advocare which means "call (to one's aid)"  God is with us, dwelling among and within us, always.  And when fear overshadows us we need only to call.  This is Jesus' promise to us.  That God is always with us.  Without that promise, without that knowledge we could never hope to live as Christ commands.  We could never hope to live, so that he might live through us.  We could never hope to make even the smallest dent in the overwhelming need around us.

But we have that promise. As Christ lives, so we live.  And Christ does live in each of us, today, tomorrow, and for all time.  Amen.  Alleluia!