Setting out on a Journey

 

Mak 10:17-31

Proper 23 / Year B

“As Jesus was setting out on a journey…”  Jesus makes several ‘journeys’ over the course of his public ministry.  He crisscrosses the Sea of Galilee several times.  He goes from village to village in and around Capernaum – the town he calls home.  He visits Nazareth, the place where he grew up.  He goes to Jerusalem for high, holy festivals.  He even travels through Samaria and flees to the north after the execution of John the Baptist; both of these are regions ‘good’ Jews avoid. 

And after each journey he returns to Capernaum, the home of Peter and Andrew, James and John – fishermen by trade.  It is unclear if Jesus stays in one of their homes or has a place of his own.  But we need to note his disciples have homes and families and a trade with all the tools necessary to ply it.  Yes, when they journey with Jesus they leave it all behind.  They sacrifice much because in their business there is no paid time off.  If you are not working you are not earning a living.  Your family goes without.  The bills pile up.  Competitors gain advantage.

But for Jesus’ followers these sacrifices are worth it because as they journey with him their lives are changed and they find life as they never experienced it before.  I think it is a bit of hyperbole to say they have given up all their possessions to follow Jesus.  They still have their homes and boats and nets, at least.  But they give up much when they go on a journey with him.

So, in today’s reading, we are told simply Jesus is setting out on a journey.  Period.  But this is not just any journey.  He is going to Jerusalem to attend the Passover.  It will begin with the triumphant entry into the Holy City on the back of a donkey.  It will see him arrested, tried, tortured, and executed.  It will conclude with the Resurrection.  So, no, this is not like the other journeys.  This is THE JOURNEY.  It will change the course of history as well as the lives of his disciples.

So as Jesus is setting out a man runs up to him, kneels, and asks a question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  His motivation is not clear.  Does he just want to know how to check off another box of prudent things to do?  Or, is he at a point in life where he has seen it all, done it all, and savored it all, yet still feels like something is missing?  Has he tasted the best life has to offer only to realize he has a longing which none of it can satisfy? 

Jesus and the man discuss those 10 Commandments dealing with how one treats his fellow human beings.  “I have kept these laws since my youth,” the person says.  Such a claim makes us skeptical, but no matter.  Jesus says to him, “There is one thing you lack.”  Does he mean in addition to keeping the commandments there is one more requirement before meriting eternal life or is he saying “I know what you need to do quell the nagging feeling in your soul”? 

Jesus’ three-fold directive is this: First, sell what you have.  Next, give the money to the poor.  Finally, come, follow me.  Now, I don’t know if Jesus means he should literally divest himself of everything he owns, but clearly his possessions weigh him down and when Jesus goes on a journey he is all about travelling light.  It is a good way to undertake a pilgrimage and it is a good way to go through life.  It is possible this sacrificial act is the final box the man needs to check in order to inherit eternal life.  After all, Jesus says if you give to the poor you will have treasure in heaven.  Perhaps the man hears this as when I get to the pearly gates I will have enough riches stored up to buy my way in.

But when Jesus invites the man to follow him on his journey he is writing a prescription for what deeply troubles him.  “Come and be with me,” Jesus says.  Image how his life would have been changed if he accepted.  Imagine how the events of Holy Week and Easter would have left a holy mark on his soul.  He might have become an Apostle.  He might have gone on his own journey to preach the gospel.  He might have founded churches.  He might have written an account of Jesus’ life which makes it into the canon of Holy Scripture.  By losing his life, he might have found his life, as Jesus taught.  But, at this point in his journey, he is not willing to part with his possessions and walks away ‘shocked’ and ‘grieving.’ 

Those of us here this morning might want to ponder if Jesus is inviting us to join him on a journey.  If so, what might cause us to reject the offer?  We might want to recall the times Jesus invited us to follow and we said no.  Why did we hold back and what did we miss out on in the process?  We might also want to reflect on those times we joined Jesus on the way and consider how it changed our lives. 

When Jesus was Asked about Divorce

 

Mark 10:2-16

Proper 22 / Year B

This morning we read of yet another instance when a group of Pharisees approach Jesus with a question intending to test and to trap him.  They wonder what he thinks about the legality of divorce.  This is not just a theoretical concern, but a hot-button topic of the day, every bit as divisive as issues we wrangle over in our country in our time. 

On one side you have the school of Hillel, a learned Pharisee.  He interprets the law on divorce very liberally, even frivolously.  If your wife displeases you, or if you find another woman more appealing, go ahead and get a divorce.  On the other side is rabbi Shammia who holds to a very restrictive view – divorce is permission only in the instance of infidelity.

All of it is squabbling about a particular passage in the Book of Deuteronomy, chapter 24:1-4.  Surprisingly, this is one of only a few times the Law of Moses addresses divorce.  It allows for the husband to give a certificate of release to his wife if she displeases him.  In context, it goes on to address the possibility she remarries and her new husband dies or divorces her, then the first husband is not allowed to remarry her.  In his teaching, Jesus raises the possibility of a wife divorcing her husband, but this was only possible for gentiles.  The Jewish law provided a wife with no powers in this matter.

Well, all of the cultural debate is about how to interpret this law and the Pharisees want to know whose side he is on, theirs or the rabbis.  Notice how Jesus’ respond shifts the conversation from how to interpret the Law to God’s original intent for marriage.  And to explore this he turns to a passage from Genesis we read moments ago. 

After all God’s activity at the beginning of creation, after each day God looks at it and says it is ‘good.’  Now, for the first time, God sees something not good – the man is alone.  God deems he needs a suitable helper.  So God parades all the animals before the man who then gives a name to each of them, thus drawing humanity into God’s creative process.  Yet no suitable helper is found.  So God causes the man to sleep, removes one of his ribs, and fashions a woman.  The man takes one look at the woman and knows he has found the partner he needs.  He is no longer alone.  The moral of the story is a man should leave his father and mother and cling to his wife and two are to become as one.  Jesus says this mutuality is God’s original intent.

Hold this thought for a moment and let me say a word about the Hebrew word translated here as ‘helper’.  Some translations render it ‘help-mate.’  Either way, it has led a belief woman are somehow inferior to men, or at least subjugated to them.  Take out your prayer book and open it to page 659.  Read Psalm 54:4:

Behold, God is my helper;

    It is the Lord who sustains my life. 

The Hebrew word translated here as ‘helper’ is the same Hebrew word used in Genesis.  No one would ever suggest since God is our helper God is inferior to us or subjugated to us.  My basic point in this aside is we need to do a lot more theological work if we are going to truly understand what is means the woman is the man’s helper.

Well, back to the sermon.  After Jesus sets out God’s original intent for marriage, he turns his attention to the laws on divorce.  They are there, Jesus says, because we live in a broken world.  They are in place to address the messiness of the post-fall reality where what God intends for marriage does not always pan out.

One of the blessings of working in the church is I have gotten to meet and know dozens of couples whose marriages beautifully reflect God’s original intent.  There is nothing like meeting a couple in their 70s or 80s or beyond who after years of marriage are still living as ‘one flesh.’  They witness to what Christ’ love for the Church looks like.

And then there are people whose marriage did not maintain this threshold and ended.  People like me.  The end of my marriage has in no way diminished my affirmation of the biblical witness to marriage.  I know firsthand, as many of you do, the tremendous pain and deep anguish which occurs when this relationship is broken.  This pain and anguish in no way says marriage is a disposable relationship.  It in no way suggests we stay marriage is to last only as long as it feels good and then cash it in when something perceived to be better comes along.  The pain and the anguish testify to the sacredness and the holiness of the marriage relationship.  When it ends the brokenness cries out, “This is not what God intends.” 

I know personally why the Christian Church declares marriage should not be entered into lightly, or unadvisedly, but reverently, deliberately, and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God.  When two people come together and hold this as their aim, the marriage relationship brings unimaginable blessing.  When it is severed, the marital relationship participates in the brokenness God did not write into the fabric of creation.  It is a brokenness introduced into reality by we humans because, well, we are human.  And because we are human, we fall and we fail.  This in no way changes God’s love for us, a love we see most clearly as God’s original intent for all creation is known and proclaimed in thought, word, and deed.

Compaining

 

Numbers 11:4-6. 10-16, 24-29

Proper 21 / Year B

If you have a keen memory you may recall today’s first lesson was read at our Celebration of New Ministry way back in 2008.  I remember Jim Matthison preaching on it and capturing perfectly the whining going on throughout the text.  And there is a lot of whining.  The people have been wandering around in the Sinai wilderness for a long time.  Often without water and having only manna and quail to eat, they become discontented.  How bad is it?  They wish they were back enslaved in Egypt where food, as they recollect, was succulent and plentiful.

The text refers to this group as the ‘rabble’ (I like how one translator calls the ‘riffraff’).  They are a group of whinny malcontents who seem to specialize in criticism, negativity, and romanticizing the past.  This group does not represent everyone.  We are told there are 600,000 men of military age and they and their families do their best to get along, but, over time and under exceedingly difficult conditions, they are swayed toward the riffraff point of view.  God hears the complaining and is displeased.  God speaks to Moses and Moses is displeased.  In essence he says to God, “These are your people and this is your mess.  You deal with it!” 

Everyone of us, without exception, complains.  It is a universal experience.  The comedian Lily Tomlin once noted “Human beings invented language to satisfy our deep need to complain.”  Every complaint is a simply an expression of dissatisfaction usually, but not always, rooted in a negative situation.   Some are rooted in mere annoyance while others rise to the level of criminality.  Our brains are actually wired for negativity (it goes back to the evolutionary fight or flight response).  The more complaining you do, or (likes the Hebrew masses) the more complaining you are around the more negative you become in your approach to life and in your evaluation of your circumstances.  

Behavioral researchers have discerned there are three basic types of complainers.  The first are known as chronic complainers.  These are the folks so focused on the thorns they are incapable of deriving pleasure from the rose.  They tend to ruminate on their grievances, endlessly stewing on the specifics of their unhappiness.  Chronic complainers are exhausting.  I learned of a clergy group that once met monthly for support and fellowship.  However, one of its members was a chronic complainer who high jacked every gathering by littering the conversation with her complaints.  How bad was it?  Eventually the group disbanded.

The second type of complainer is the venter.  The venter is the person who holds back, keeps it in, and bites his tongue until eventually the need to let off steam becomes too great.  You folks from the South were raised on the axiom if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.  We Northerners have a different saying, “I just have to get something off my chest.”  Venting provides temporary relief by transferring emotional energy to anyone within earshot of the complaint.  Sometimes venting puts the issue to rest, but most often it will rear up again and again and again.  Ultimately the venter is seeking validation – the affirmation their dissatisfaction is legitimate.

The final type of complaint is known as the instrumental complaint.  Like its two cousins, it also is rooted in dissatisfaction, but unlike them it is focused on solving the problem.  The instrumental complainer says something like “I don’t think we are headed in the right direction.  Does anyone have an idea how we can get back on course?”  The instrumental complainer never says, “It is my way of the highway.” 

So, back to Moses.  His general complaint is he is overworked.  God has given him too many people with too many problems for him to address all by himself.  God instructs him to gather seventy elders and take them to the Tent Tabernacle (this is way before a Temple is built in Jerusalem).  God then takes some of the mojo being conferred on Moses and spreads it over the entire group.  And the group becomes ecstatic, prophesying and dancing around and doing the things which generally indicate God has equipped them to do important work.

Notice how this prophesying stuff only lasts for a short time for those who hang out isolated in God’s Tent.  But it also has fallen on two people outside of the Tent, Eldad and Medad.  It continues to be manifested by them as they go throughout the camp and minister among the people.  This results in a whole new complaint.  The seventy, who have yet to exercise the gifts God has bestowed on them, complain about two not in their group, who are out ministering to a despairing and defeated people.

This new round of complaining should not surprise us.  It is estimated somewhere between 74-87% of all comments are a complaint in one form or another.  As I said, it is a universal experience.  But, as we saw in a Lenten program a few years ago, you can rewire your brain for gratitude.  And, with some wisdom, insight, and discipline you can train yourself to become an instrumental complainer.  And, in my experience at least, instrumental complainers are worth their weight in gold.

The Parable of the Child

 

Mark 9:3-39

Proper 20 / Year B

Sometimes Jesus gathers people to tell them a story.  Other times, such as in today’s reading from the gospel, he acts out a parable.  The disciples are having a not-so-private conversation about who among their number is most important to Jesus’ ministry.  Jesus, in his typically, gentle way, calls them on the carpet by asking them what they have been discussing.  Not surprisingly, none of them wants to fess up about the pettiness of their musings. 

Jesus then sets out a fundamental principle of the Kingdom of God: “Whoever wants to be first must be last.  He or she must be a servant of all.”  This, he says, is what makes for greatness in God’s Kingdom.  Then Jesus acts out his teaching.  He sees a child, calls the youngster to himself, and says to everyone, “If you welcome a child in my name you welcome me.  Even more, you welcome the One who sends me.”

This simple act, like all parables, speaks in a fresh way no matter how many times we hear it.  It sheds light on every new situation we encounter.  And it does what a good parable does.  It can never be boiled down to a simple meaning which stays frozen over time.  It is living and active because life is not static.  There are principles at the core of every parable or action which endure over time and withstand the changes and chances of life.  When you discern these principles you find the voice of God speaking to your current situation.

Through this enacted parable, where Jesus brings a child to himself, we discover much about life in God’s kingdom.  We learn who we are to admire and what traits we are to emulate.  First and foremost, those who are great in God’s kingdom are loving.  This love is most evident not when it is offered to people the world regards as important.  It is most evident when it is offered to those who are overlooked or undervalued or out of the public eye. 

Second, those who are great in God’s kingdom are not motivated by the limelight.  They do not crave rewards or adulation.  They strive to embody what is kind and right and good.  If you honor and respect the king you may be rewarded with earthly treasures, titles, and powers.  But if you treat a child with kindness then your only reward may be a hug or a smile.  But this is a sign of Jesus’ kingdom.  And, according to him, it will endure long after kings and worldly riches fade away.

And third, Jesus’ enacted parable teaches you are only as great as what the least respected person in society has to say about you.  Presidential citations and papal blessings do not a Christian make.  When a child knows your love and affirmation you have done a great thing.  When a hungry person is feed because of your generosity you have done a great thing.  When those who are sorrowful or suffering receive your care and compassion you have done a great thing.

Greatness in God’s kingdom does not look like the disciples squabbling over who is most important.  It is about people like you and me receiving all in the name of Christ.  And the reward for welcoming the least person is finding Christ revealed uniquely in and through that person.  This kind of connection makes life rich and full and meaningful.

Now, lest you think I am blabbering a bunch of church talk, but it does not actually connect with the real the world, let me cite Lewis Howes, who built wealth out of want and is now the host a very popular podcast called “The School of Greatness.”  He offers eight tips to becoming great.  One tip describes the importance of hard work, another the need for vision and a sense of mission, still another talks about the significance of integrity.  Can you guess what tip #8 is?  Live a life of Service!

Howes says this:

You can achieve greatness by focusing on pursuing you own selfish interests, but it’s not going to feel great.  You’ll discover quickly that greatness which only serves you is empty.  Build giving back and serving others into every part of your journey and you’ll find fulfillment and happiness long before you reach your goal of greatness. 

He invites his listeners to take on something called the Kindness Challenge.  It involves doing a five-minute favor, an hour-long favor, and a one-day favor.  A five-minute favor can be as simple as opening a door or holding an elevator for another person.  A one-hour favor can be writing several glowing reviews on yelp, perhaps for your favorite restaurant, dentist, or church.  A day long favor might involve offering your professional skills for free to support a non-profit.

Kindness is defined as doing something nice for someone else while expecting nothing in return.  And yet, studies have found acts of kindness actually benefit you.  They improve personal relationships, reduce stress and anxiety, boost your immune system, increase energy and confidence, and generally make you feel better.  If any of this appeals to you, Jesus suggests you should welcome a child.

Christian Nationalism

 

Mark 8:27-38

Proper 19 / Year B

So, I can sense you want to hear another story about one of my ancestors.  Can I get an ‘Amen’!   Mary Wright, another grandparent from twelve generations back, was born in Boston in 1642.  She and two sisters – Lydia and Hannah – are raised in a Quaker family, which at some point early in her life moves to Oyster Bay, NY, undoubtedly motivated by the fact Boston is governed by Puritans who did not take kindly to those of the Quaker persuasion. 

Here is one example.  In 1660, Mary Dyer, a mother of six, is hanged from an elm tree in Boston Common after being convicted in a civil court of being a Quaker.  Incensed by this act this, Mary Wright, just 18 at the time, travels to Boston by herself to demonstrate.  She is immediately banished, yet continues to preach.  She returns to Boston with several Quakers from Salem and all are immediately thrown into jail. 

Mary’s two sisters also make trips to Boston over the course of the next decade.  By then King Charles II has outlawed the hanging of Quakers, but a new statute on the books calls for Quakers to be stripped to the waist, tied to the back of a cart, and whipped from town to town until they are driven out of the colony.  While Hannah and Lydia avoid such a fate, not all of their colleagues are as fortunate.  There is a transcript of Lydia’s trail where the governor, a magistrate, are several other worthies interrogate her about her religious beliefs and practices.  It is chilling to read how faith and the power of the state forged together can be welded to legislate intolerance.

What does it say to you that the Puritans fled from England because they were persecuted there, came to Massachusetts in search of religious freedom, and then turned around to become exactly what they were escaping from in the first place? 

This past week Bishop Susan brought together the clergy of the diocese to discuss a paper which came out of the House of Bishops last June.  It is a theological response to a rise in Christian Nationalism in our country.  The paper defines Christian Nationalism as an attempt to define “national identity in terms of membership in a particular form of Christianity… and it reflects the desire certain groups of Christians and specific church-based institutions to turn toward the state to protect, support, and continue the structures to which its members have become so accustomed.” 

Americans hold we are one nation under God.  Many of us, at some conscious or unconscious level, believe this means one nation under my God.   And my God is shaped by my story.  When my God looks and feels a lot like your God, we craft a powerful common identity.  Eventually others join us and we begin to think in terms of our God.   But other people with different stories have their God who we do not see as being the same as our God.  Christian Nationalism is a movement by one group of people to use the power of the state to ensure everyone adheres to the precepts of their God, with the accompanying purpose to enshrine their privileges and perspectives above those of others.

Think about the stories of the New England Puritans and Quakers.  Their stories have a lot of similarities.  They share a common language and historical perspective rooted in England.  And yet there is enough dissimilar in their stories that one group obtains legal power over the other and uses it to enforce its views. 

Now think about what America is today.  We are a country of people whose stories have roots from all over the world.  Some of our stories are tales of privilege, other arise from the experience of persecution.  Some come here hoping to capitalize on superior medical training, others make a living as a migrant farmer.   Our stories vary greatly and yet still this is our country.  Some say this variety has changed the United States, but I say it has enriched us in the same way every new thread enriches a tapestry.  Can we hear each other’s stories and find a common ground on which to stand?  This, I think, is the great American challenge of our time.

This morning we hear Jesus say, “If any want to be my followers…” and right away this should get our attention.  I want to be a follower of Jesus so what do I need to do?  “Let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”  In the context of this sermon’s topic, what does it look like to deny yourself as a citizen rather than to assert yourself?  At the very least it is not my way or the highway.  It looks more like listening to rather than shouting at.  It looks like seeking and serving Christ in all persons and respecting the dignity of every human being. 

And what does it mean to pick up your cross and follow Jesus?  Well, it is something very different than pick up your sword and fight.  It certainly isn’t a directive to get on social media and call people names.  And it most definitely is not voting for candidate X or candidate Y.  It has something to do with laying aside your rights and privileges in order for the power of God to work in and through you.

I wonder if Jesus would say to those who seek to institute Christian Nationalism, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it”?  It is at least something to consider if you want to be a follower of Jesus.

To read the letter from the Theology Committee of the House of Bishops click here:  Responding_to_Christian_Nationalism_in_the_21st_Century.pdf (mcusercontent.com)

The Tower Entrance

 

Hugh Brady was born in Limerick, Ireland in 1520. He was my great x 12 grandfather.  At some point in life Hugh was ordained and eventually appointed by Queen Elizabeth to serve as the protestant bishop of the Diocese of Meath.  An assessment of the diocese in 1571 reveals the only thing in worse condition than the clergy (who were uneducated, thieves, and prone to violence) is the condition of the churches.  Of Meath’s 243 parishes, 66 are deemed to be in good or reasonable repair, 9 are categorized as indifferently repaired, and 158 are considered to be somewhat or altogether ruined.  Grandpa Brady had his work cut out for him.

I share this little piece of family history to make a singular point: church buildings from every time and era require maintenance.  Without constant attention they fall into disrepair.  Our second church building (and first church of any kind in downtown Suffolk) ceased to function after the Revolutionary War.  By the turn of the century in 1800 it was in such pitiful condition the Vestry reckoned it needed to be torn down.  Work began on our current building in 1892.  How different were those times?  The Vestry minutes from April 1894 indicate the building committee was instructed to have the church wired for electric lights.  The first service in our present space is held on June 16, 1895, Pentecost Sunday.  All agree it is a magnificent structure inside and out.   

New building, no problems… right?  Wrong.  In 1901 (just six years after opening), the rector calls a meeting of the Vestry to state many have not been attending services because the church is cold on Sundays.  He repeats this complaint during the following year’s heating season and notes it is even worse due to a shortage of coal.  By 1903 money is being raised for a new heating system.  A new furnace is added a year later.  Then, in 1905, with our church celebrating just the 10^th anniversary of its opening, the rector reports – wait for it – the roof is leaking!  From there on the Vestry record is a series of building related problems from the organ to the windows to the heating system to a leaking roof.

This morning, as we gather to celebrate the reopening of our Tower Entrance, we remember the solemn responsibility we have to keep our building and grounds in good condition.  This is, after all, is a house of God, and God deserves nothing less than our best effort.  And we give thanks we are not left on our own to undertake this challenge.  We are blessed with an endowment to help defer our major maintenance projects.  All sizes of gifts – both small and substantial – have been contributed by our ancestors in the faith to build this fund and our Vestry and parish leaders work diligently to shepherd it so it will be a resource for generations to come. 

We are also blessed to be in relationship with a number of talented contractors, vendors, and professionals who go above and beyond in the services they provide to St. Paul’s.  You see many of them listed in today’s bulletin and some are here with us at this service.  As we put together this list I was amazed by how many different people contribute to the upkeep of our facility.  When these folks come here to work on a project I trust we are in good hands.  I sense the pride they take in their work and it is obvious they are giving us their best effort.  Some workers will take you to the cleaners.  The people who come here take good care of us and for this I am grateful.

Our Tower Entrance has been closed for some time now.  It has prevented us from using the Balcony and from ringing the bell.  The absence of our bell put on hold a cherished tradition among our children: ringing it twelve times at the end of the service.  Bells have always been an important feature of church life.  Moses’ brother Aaron, the founder of the priestly order, had bells sewn into the hem of his robe and they rang out constantly has he led the people in worship and prayer. 

Although we don’t know with certainty the first church to have a bell, we do know they were in general use throughout England by the 7^th century.  Bells were rung at various points of the day to call the faithful to prayer.  The ringing of a church bell announced a birth, a marriage, or a death.  It was held the sound of a church’s bell drove off evil spirits.  Church bells were also used to announce the time of day and to sound various kinds of alarm.  In short, their sound provided the community with all manner of information and for centuries were every bit as important the community as the internet is for us.

Our church bell was cast in 1860 by Meneely’s Bell Company of West Troy, NY.  It hung at our fourth church site (where the Obici Foundation House now stands) and was moved here before the opening service in 1895.  Meneely has cast thousands of bells which can be found all over the world.  In addition to the ones made for churches, they make bells for schools, factories, steamboats, ships, fire engines, and more.  Our bell weighs somewhere between 100-400 pounds and is suspended from a yoke Meneely patented about 150 years ago.  The company’s promotional material indicates inscriptions can be added to a bell at no extra cost, but ours has none.  Some bells are given names (such as “Old Tom” in Oxford), but there is no evidence our bell was ever named.  But, today it is back in service. 

We do not come here to worship our building.  This is the place where we congregate to worship God.  This place, like the words of our liturgy and the tune of our hymns, assists us as we seek to enter into God’s presence.  If old grandpa Brady was here with us to celebrate today, I think he would sleep a little better knowing one of his parishes has been restored to good repair.

Our Posture in the Presence of God

 

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Proper 17 / Year B

Since the dawn of religious belief – be it in one deity or a whole pantheon – human beings have perceived the need to approach ultimate holiness with great care.  In many religious traditions, including our own, there is a pervasive sense God exists completely beyond us.  Eucharistic Prayer D captures this awareness with these words:

“You alone are God, living and true, dwelling in light inaccessible from before time and forever.”

How do you come before a Being such as this?  Why do we even think we can enter into the presence of God?  When we do what should our posture be; and by ‘posture’ I mean something much broader and deeper than standing, sitting, or kneeling?

This question of posture is at the heart of today’s readings.  “Lord, who may dwell in your tabernacle” the Psalmist asks, “who may abide on your holy hill?”  It is one of the most profound questions in the Scriptures.  The answer, apparently, is anyone who approaches God with the right posture.  But this does not settle the question, it merely begins the debate.  What is the right posture one needs when one comes before God?

Pharisees and scribes confront Jesus in today’s gospel reading with concerns around this issue.  They are upset Jesus does not make his followers go through a ritual act of handwashing prior to eating a meal.  The primary purpose of this practice is for religious purification and has nothing to do with sanitation.  It is part of an elaborate ritual designed to make one acceptable in God’s presence.  And before we poo-poo it, notice Jesus himself does it because the religious figures don’t attack him for not observing it, rather they attack him for not making his followers do it.

Here is what is good about these obscure purification rites: they remind people of the Holy Otherness of God.  In the Hebrew tradition one never attempts to make an image of God because to do so reduces God’s unfathomable grandeur to something tangible and limited.  One never speaks the Name of God because to do so has the same effect.  God is experienced as Other, Beyond, Glory inapproachable, and yet also as Present and open, a Revealing Self who spoke to the ancestors and through the prophets.  This Holy Other and Revealing Self invites and even welcomes the Hebrew people into its Majestic Presence and the Hebrew people understand accepting this welcome requires great care on their part.  This care takes the form of elaborate rites and rituals for purification.  Some of these are prescribed in the Hebrew Scriptures while others develop over time through tradition. 

So, applaud the Pharisees for recognizing the greatness of God and the need to approach God with the right posture.  Jesus’ issue with them centers on how one obtains the right posture.  In one brief discussion he changes the focus from outer rituals to inner attitudes; from outward piety to inner devotion; from purification of the hands to purification of the heart.

Consider our other lessons this morning.  James exhorts his readers to be doers of the word, not merely hearers of it.  “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God is this,” he writes, “to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  The care he describes is not an empty, outward gesture, but a manifestation of inner lover.  Being unstained by the world is not mere abstinence, but the result of an inner quest for holiness.

In answering the question about who can stand on God’s holy hill and enter into God’s tabernacle, the psalmist points not to rituals for purification, but to acts which signify moral integrity: being blameless, truthful, without guile or contempt for your neighbor, spurning wickedness, embracing righteousness, keeping one’s word (even when it comes at personal cost), never taking advantage of another. 

In the Old Testament lesson, Moses shifts the focus from individual purity to communal purity.  We all are to keep the commands of God, he tells the faithful “for this will show your wisdom and discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people!’  For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is whenever we call to him?”

Let’s be honest about one thing: if having the correct posture to approach God depends entirely upon us, it would be better to be judged by outward rituals than by inward attitudes.  It is much easier to clean your hands and in a certain manner than to have a pure heart.  But God conceives of purity not in terms of perfection, but intention.  What are you aiming for, knowing sometimes you will miss the target?  What is your heart’s desire, knowing you don’t always pursue it?  I remember an old saying I used to hear as a child: “Always try to do you best and remember to let God take care of the rest.”  This is the posture God asks of anyone who responds to the welcome of Revealing Self.

Have you ever reflected on the first prayer we offer at the beginning of every service of Holy Eucharist:

Almighty God (Gulp!  Here is a Being who should make our knees tremble), to you all hearts are open (Yikes!  What could be worse than an encounter with someone who knows your heart through and through?), all desires known (Double yikes, because some of my desires are not so great!), and from you no secretes are hid (Uh oh!  There are some skeletons in my closet): Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name.

Every time we enter into the welcoming Presence of the One who is Self-Revealing in an act of worship, we do so acknowledging the posture required by God is in fact a gift from God.  It is God who cleanses us to make us pure; enabling us to love God and magnify God’s holy Name.  Let us give thanks this morning for how God invites us near, asking of us clean hearts and minds and making us ‘pure’ through God’s own gracious gift.