Advent in Springtime

Fall continues to linger in the Commonwealth on this first Sunday of Advent – a liturgical season I associate more with snowflakes than temperatures in the 60’s.  Given this mindset, it is easy to overlook a significant element in today’s gospel reading.  Jesus employs the analogy of a fig tree beginning to bud to describe the cosmic signs indicating the coming of the Son of Man is near. 

Winter is a time when daylight is scare and darkness sets in often times before we even get home.  The landscape is dormant and dreary and everything about the world ignites our homing instinct to get indoors and stay there.  Use your imagination to fast-forward to April.  The sun is climbing higher in the sky and bulbs are pushing up sprouts through the ground.  Buds are breaking out on branches and once again there is fragrance in the air.    Spring is a hopeful time as we sense the world is coming to life again and it feels like all things are being made new. 

It is no accident Jesus uses the image of springtime as an analogy to describe the events leading up to the coming of the Son of Man.  While most end-time imagery focuses of cataclysmic events, destruction, and judgment, here Jesus compares it to passing from winter into spring.  Other than the owner of a ski resort, I don’t know a single person who has ever said, “Oh, I just wish winter could hang on for a few more weeks.”  By the end of February everyone just wants winter to go away.  Just as we embrace the coming of spring, Jesus says we are to embrace the coming of the Son of Man.

This morning we hear the longing of the prophet Isaiah:

O that God would tear open the heavens and come down,

so that the mountains would quake at God’s presence.

We understand Isaiah’s prayer.  There is so much in our own time that is broken, corrupt, and downright evil.  The moral capital of our society, which has been built up by the ethical virtue of generations before us, now feels like a tank of heating oil in the month of March.  Conflict between races, peoples, and cultures is tearing at the fabric of our common humanity.  It feels like our interactions with one another are more course than ever before and a violent response is an option more popular than any other time in our country’s history.  The season of Advent is a time of longing for God to come into our world and make all things right and there is much in our time in need of being made right.

And while we long for the culmination and restoration of all things at the end of time, what we get at the end of Advent is baby born in a manger.  What we get is a sign.  What we get is a bud on the branch of a fig tree.  What we get is the hope God is already in our world and already at work in our world and already at work in us and already at work through us.  And Jesus tells us when we see the fig tree in bloom we are to look around because signs of hope are everywhere. 

Here is just one example.

I was watching an episode of This Old House this week which featured a Baltimore program called Project JumpStart.  Like most cities, Baltimore does not have enough construction workers to fill all the demand for jobs in the industry.  JumpStart is a 14-week training program helping students learn basic plumbing, carpentry, and electrical skills.  80% of the graduates land a good-paying job as an apprentice in the trade of their choice.  What is even more remarkable is the majority of the graduates are recovering addicts and ex-convicts, people most companies would never even interview.

The people who run JumpStart know the success of their program depends on employers being satisfied with the graduates they hire, thus they hold their students to a very high standard.  Students are given a daily stipend while they are in the program and producing.  But if you are late for class or your cell phone goes off or you do not present yourself professionally or if you commit any host of things not tolerated on a jobsite you lose your stipend for the day.  If the mistakes continue you are dismissed from the program.

Students enter JumpStart having failed at life but with a hope for something better.  They come out of the program not possessing all the skills they need for the trade of their choice, something they can learn as an apprentice.  The come out with the will to succeed and an understanding of what is required of them for this to happen.  Graduates of JumpStart are eager to turn around their lives and while this does not represent a reordering on a cosmic level, it is an answer to Advent hope.  It is a bud breaking forth on one branch of one fig tree.

With the beginning of the new Church year we begin a new Lectionary cycle of readings.  The majority of this year’s gospel readings will be drawn from the Gospel of Mark.  There are two competing theories regarding the purpose behind Mark’s writing.  The dominant theory revolves around the imminent destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Roman army in 70 AD.  Mark foresees the threat this poses to his readers and counsels them to stay awake, to be alert, to be ready.  Things are going to change soon and not for the better.  Christians will be blamed for what happens and persecution will ensue.

The other theory holds Mark is writing to a church that has been successful in its mission and work, but now is complacent.   Believers have lost their zeal for the Gospel and no longer look for evidence of God’s involvement in the world.  Under this theory, Mark retells the story of Jesus to wake up the church, to open the eyes of the faithful in order that we might see the hand of God at work in the world.

Over the course of the year you might want to listen for evidence of each view.  Either way, each speaks deeply to a need in our time.  More and more we live life with the gnawing feeling we are on the brink of something awful.  We are tempted more than ever to pull back and protect ourselves from the risk of doing anything.  We are also conditioned to pay attention to all the things that are wrong with our world and, as I said, there is plenty on which to focus. 

What would happen this Advent if you noticed “the bud on the fig tree”, if you began to see signs of hope surrounding you?  I think it might calm your fears and reinvigorate your faith.  I think it might stir your imagination as to how you can be a part of God’s work of making all things new.  In Advent we remember God’s promises and are told to be watchful for all the signs of God’s faithfulness.    I call you to be watchful this Advent and pray you will be blessed by what you see.

The Sole Criteria of the Final Judgment

One day God gets fed up with the human race and summons Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, and Bill Gates.  They are told God will judge the world in three days and destroy everything.  God informs them they are to return to their jobs and tell everyone what is about to happen.  Trump goes to the White House and says, “I have good news and I have bad news.  The good news is there is a God.  The bad news is God is going to destroy the world in three days.”  Putin returns to the Kremlin and says, “I have bad news and I have more bad news.  The bad news is there is a God.  The worse news is God is going to destroy the world in three days.”  Bill Gates returns to Microsoft’s headquarters and says, “I have good news and I have more good news.  The good news is God thinks I am one of the three most important people in the world.  The other good news is you don’t have to worry about fixing all the bugs in our new operating system.”

For the third Sunday in a row our gospel reading is a parable taken from the 25^th chapter of Matthew.  Like the parables of the Ten Maidens and the Talents, today’s focuses on a final judgment.  Jesus tells these stories in Jerusalem just days before he will be arrested, tried, and crucified.  Either the disciples are getting smarter or Jesus is getting better at his story-telling, because, unlike so many of his early parables, these three require no explanation. 

Today’s parable is as straightforward as it can be.  Jesus is going to judge people on one basis and one basis alone.  He will not count how many times you came to church.  He will not quiz you for creedal orthodoxy.  He will not check to see if you are born again.  All Jesus will do is recall the times you gave him something to eat, something to drink, and something to wear.  He will recall when you welcomed him into your home, when you comforted him in sickness, and when you visited him in prison.  You don’t even have to know it is Jesus you did these things for.  Anytime you do it for anyone you do it to Jesus. 

Notice who is being judged.  It is not the church or Jesus’ followers.  Jesus says “all the nations” will be gathered before the Son of Man and separated into two groups… those who did something for him and those who did not.  “All the nations.”  Any time we read a verse like John 14:6, “No one can come to the Father except through me”, the conversation always gets around to other religions and people of different faiths.  Will they be saved and will they be punished for not believing in Jesus?  Well, according to this parable the sole criteria used to judge every person regardless of faith or race or nationality is this: what did you do to help other people, especially the most needy and vulnerable people in your society?  Were you generous, caring, and selfless or were you critical, hardened, and indifferent?

One of the things I wonder about this parable is Jesus’ grading scale.  If one time you give one cup of water to a thirsty person is this enough to get you into the sheep pen?  Or, conversely, if one time you fail to give a cup of water, will this get you rounded up with the goats?  Or, what if you do the right thing, but do it for the wrong reason?  Are you a sheep if you give food to the hungry but have open (or even concealed) disdain for them?  Are you a goat if you do the wrong thing for the right reason?  “Jesus, I didn’t give you that $10 that one time because I thought you were going to use it to buy liquor.” 

I don’t know what the grading scale will be, but here is what I experience.  There are times I do the right thing because it is the right thing to do.  I do it because I need to do it in order to feel good about me.  And then there are times I do the right thing because I recognize the humanity of the person I am helping.  I see the person as a person and I recognize the person’s need and I see I have an opportunity rather than an obligation to help.  When I recognize the humanity of the other person and respond to it, I sense more acutely the Kingdom of God in my presence. 

The opposite is also true in my experience.  When I fail to recognize the humanity of another person, the world seems darker and more hellish.  C.S. Lewis thought hell is a place where one’s humanity is diminished.  N.T. Wright, the English bishop and theologian, envisions hell as the end of a process where one consistently choses to dehumanize what once was human.

The great challenge in life is to see in other people what God sees in them.  Our challenge is to love the other person as we believe God loves them.  The theologian Gustavo Gutierrez writes, “God is committed to the poor, not because the poor are good—but because God is good.”  Today’s parable reminds us a good God created us to be good to one another.

Ultimately, I believe those judged to be sheep receive their reward not because they reached an arbitrary percentage of helping others, but because during their life they cultivated a disposition to recognize the humanity of other people and to base their interactions on this.  This inclination nurtured in this life continues on to the next.  The goats are those who cultivate the opposite and consistently fail to recognize the humanity of others.  This inclination continues into the life to come and they receive judgment not as punishment but, based on their life’s story, as a recognition heaven and all its ways is not a place they would enjoy.

On this final Sunday of the church year, we proclaim the Kingship of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  We affirm one day every knee will bow to him and all tongues praise his holy Name.  I tend to side with those who believe in a crowded heaven and an empty hell.  Many theologians hold to the theory of an empty hell because they believe in the end all people will respond to the call of a loving God who desires none should be lost.  We begin to open our hearts to God’s voice here and now and one way we do this is to recognize the humanity of every person we encounter and to respond to their most basic needs.

Fruitfulness and Fear

Do you know God’s first commandment in bible and Jesus’ last commandment are the same?  Long before the 10 Commandments, God’s first commandment to Adam and Eve is this: “Be fruitful and multiply.”  Jesus’ last words to his disciples and his final command is, “Go forth into all the world and make disciples, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”  Be fruitful! 

Have you ever noticed how important being fruitful is in Scripture?  John the Baptist cried out in the wilderness, “Repent, for the ax is laid to the root of every tree that does not bear fruit.”  When someone approaches Jesus to learn how to discern authentic religion from inauthentic, Jesus says, “You can judge people by the fruit they bear.”  Some time later he teaches his disciples, “By this my father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and thereby prove to be my disciples.”  How many of Jesus’ parables revolve around seeds that grow and produce a hundred-fold harvest?  St. Paul writes to the Galatians that the Spirit’s presence in our life produces the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  While we tend to measure people based on what they possess, God is interested in what we produce.

Today, we hear Jesus tell a story about a master who entrusts riches to three servants.  Two take what is given to them and use it to create more wealth for their master.  They are fruitful.  But one servant buries what the master gives him and hands it back upon his return.  Because the servant produces nothing, he incurs the full wrath of his master’s judgment, “You wicked servant.”  Weeping and dental distress follows.

In telling his story, Jesus gives us a window into the thought process of the wicked servant.  He fails to be fruitful not because he is lazy and not because he is incompetent, but because he is afraid.  Fear can be lethal to fruitfulness.

Through their studies, psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky have determined human beings exhibit what they call “loss aversion”.  We feel the pain of loss more acutely than we feel the pleasure of gain.  They demonstrate this in a classroom setting with a coin toss.  Kahneman says he is going to flip a coin and if it comes up tails whoever is willing to participate will lose $10.  He then asks students how much they would have to gain from winning in order to take up the challenge.  The typical answer, he says, is $20.  Protecting the $10 is more important to us than taking a risk to earn more.  Each of us, to one degree or another, has an aversion to loss.  We hang on to stuff we don’t need, stay with the tried and true, and hold back so we don’t get overextended.  It is not entirely a bad thing, but when we are riddled with fear this natural inclination can become debilitating. 

And right now, we are living in a society choked with fear.  A recent study surveying 1,500 people revealed our greatest fears revolve around…     

Corruption of government officials

Cyberterrorism

Corporate tracking of personal information

Terrorist attacks

I suspect your own personal list is similar.  Anxiety, which is worrying about what might happen, fills the air the way a fish’s life is filled with water.  In our day, it is the medium in which we attempt to live our lives. 

Chronic anxiety actually alters the brain’s functioning.  Studies show how over time the portion of the brain responsible for critical thinking and memory begins to shrink, while the part responsible for the ancient fight or flight response grows.  If unchecked, chronic anxiety causes our thought process to slow down and our decision-making ability to be impaired.  Eventually the brain begins to make false correlations, perceiving as threats things that are not (not every person from the Middle East speaking Arabic into a cell phone is plotting a terrorist attack).

In his book The Culture of Fear, Barry Glassner, the president of Lewis & Clark College, contends most Americans are living in the safest place at the safest time in history.  In fact, The Atlantic magazine, citing the global rise in household wealth, longevity, and education, accompanied with a decrease in violent crime and extreme poverty, declared 2015 “the best year in history for the average human being.”

If this is accurate, why do so many of us feel so anxious?  Glassner says in spite of all that is good in our world, we are also living in the era of the worst fear-mongering in human history.  A lot of people gain a lot of power by whipping up our fears and proclaiming only they can save us.  A lot of corporations make a lot of money by making us feel threatened and then providing us with a means of safety.

Fear-mongering works because many operate on a sense of “probability neglect” – a term coined by Cass Sunstein, a former White House advisor.  Probability neglect describes what happens when we are stirred emotionally by a terrible world event and begin to imagine how the same thing might happen to us: a gunman spraying down bullets on a public event, a lone terrorist driving a rented vehicle into a cluster of bicyclists, a worshipping community decimated by an armed assailant.  While these things happen, the reality is they are the exception, not the rule.  Still, they make us feel fragile and vulnerable and afraid. 

And Jesus tells a brilliant story to highlight how when we are afraid we are challenged to be who we are created to be and struggle to do what we are created to do.  Here is how the fearful servant looks at life:

· My master is a harsh person (or, we might say, “this is a dangerous world”).

· My master expects much from me.

· The talent I have been given is a burden.

· I am not sure if I am up to this task.

· Above all else, I must not fail so I will disengage from risk and keep myself safe.

The other two servants live and move and have their being in the exact same context, but they view the world very differently:

· My master is an incredibly generous person (or, we might say, “there is abundant goodness and opportunity in this world).

· My master has expressed confidence in me.

· Being given these talents is the opportunity of a lifetime.

· I now have the chance to pursue my dream.

· I am going to make the most of what I have been given and I can’t wait to show my master what I have been able to accomplish.

Which perspective do you think engenders fruitfulness?

Here are some things you can do to lower the anxiety you feel:

· Stop listening to cable news and talk radio.

· Limit the amount of time you attend to the day’s news.

· Foster a diverse group of friends.  Studies show when like-minded people discuss current events they actually become more anxious – the echo chamber effect.

· Do something for yourself.  Go for a walk, listen to music, paint, write, whatever.

· Do something for someone else.  One of the best things I do for me each week is serving in St. Paul’s Food Pantry. 

· Do something real: put your hands in dirt and plant something, use ingredients to make a dinner, tackle that renovation project.

· Develop a manageable spiritual discipline; perhaps a simple prayer at the transition points of your day.

God’s great gift to each one of us is the gift of life.  What we do with our lives is our gift back to God.  What will you do with what God has given to you?  What will you do to be fruitful?  What that us holding you back needs to be shed?

End Times

Two pastors stand by the side of the road holding up signs.  One reads, “The End is Near!” and the other, “Turn yourself around before it’s too late.”  A car speeds by and the driver yells out the window, “Leave me alone, you religious nuts.”  A few seconds later the pastors hear the sound of tires screeching followed by a big splash.  One pastor turns to the other and says, “Do you think our ministry would be more effective if our signs read, ‘Warning’ and ‘Bridge Out Ahead’?”

I came across a site that ponders how the covers of different magazines and newspapers might read as the end times approaches:

USA Today: We’re dead

The Wall Street Journal: Dow Jones plummets as world ends 

National Enquirer: O.J. and Nicole, together again

Victoria’s Secret Catalog: Our final sale 

Sports Illustrated: Game over! 

Rolling Stone: The Grateful Dead reunion tour 

Readers Digest: ‘Bye! 

TV Guide: Death and damnation: Nielson Ratings soar! 

Lady’s Home Journal: Lose 10 lbs by judgment day with our new “Armageddon” Diet! 

The end of time never seems to be far from our collective psyche.  Just this past August, a solar eclipse triggered a new wave of fret and dread capped off with rumors a mysterious dark planet was set to collide with Earth.  There is in us a deeply rooted sense of our own fragility.  We sense there are powerful and dangerous forces over which we have no control and so we live with a low-level of anxiety spawned by an overdue earthquake (the “Big One”), an extinction-creating asteroid, or a worldwide pandemic.  Feeding into this anxiety are the things we human beings do to one another: mass shootings, terrorist attacks, and unsettling comments by powerful government officials. 

Our own bible acts like yeast in the dough of apocalyptic thinking.  Today, for example, each of our assigned readings describes what the prophet Amos calls “The Day of the Lord.”  Every Sunday we people of faith confess Jesus “will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.”  The bible does not give us a simple, complete picture of what this will look like.  In fact, if you collected every statement about the end times in the bible, you would quickly discover many are irreconcilable.  One has the faithful living in heaven, another describes a new Jerusalem coming down from heaven and being established on earth.  One has the faithful being taken up into the sky, another has the faithless being taken away with the faithful being left to continue on.  Rather than giving us details about the end times to be crafted into a timeline of historical events to come, I hold scripture gives us images and ideas to be crafted into a tapestry of wisdom; wisdom intended to speak to the anxiety we feel.

What wisdom do we find in today’s readings?

Amos is a shepherd and fig tree farmer living in the southern nation of Judah when God calls him to go and speak to the people of the northern kingdom of Israel.  At the time, Israel has been experiencing an extended period of peace and prosperity, which has seen the gap widen between the rich and the poor.  But now the shadow of the Assyrian army looms over all of this and the people of Israel turn to God for help.  They believe if they really, really pour themselves into the appointed festivals and sacrifices, God will act on their behalf.  They call this divine intervention “The Day of the Lord.”  It will be the day when God rises up against the Assyrian army on behalf of Israel. 

Amos, the southerner “not from here”, speaks up: “You don’t want the Day of the Lord because it will be horrible for you.  Your worship and your sacrifices and your singing are not pleasing to God.  What God desires is for justice to roll down like waters, and righteousness to be like an ever-flowing stream.”   While we may think of justice as being every person getting what he or she deserves, in Amos’ time it referred to caring for the poor, protecting the vulnerable, and welcoming the foreigner.  These values are to be put in action not just when convenient and not just when we feel like it.  They are to be an ever-flowing stream.  Continuous.

So, what wisdom can we take from this?  The more we live the right way and the more we do the right thing the less apprehensive we will be about the future.

Paul writes to the Christians in Thessalonica about a specific spiritual and theological concern troubling them.  Paul himself is developing and adapting his own theology with the passage of time.  The early church at Pentecost believed Jesus was going to return very soon, at any time.  It could be today, tonight, next week, or perhaps next month.  As time passes two things happen.  First, some believers begin to lose their ardent zeal.  You can’t stay at heightened alert for ten years.  The bible’s response to this is an encouragement to “stay awake”.  You don’t want to be slacking off and miss out when Jesus returns.

As the years go by a second thing happens.  Faithful believers begin to die.  In Thessalonica this is cause for much debate.  Some hold those who die are gone and have missed out completely on being with Jesus when he comes again.  In his letter Paul asserts the dead will rise again because Jesus himself died and rose again.  His writing is as visual as a movie: Jesus will call out, an archangel will blow a trumpet, Jesus will descend, the dead will rise up, then the living will meet them in the clouds.  I believe this fantastic imagery houses the deep truth of what is our ultimate hope of resurrection and reunion with all those we love but see no longer.  I believe in this hope, but not in the imagery through which it is conveyed. 

Have I confused you?  A look at the gospel reading might make things a little more clear.  Jesus tells a parable about his return and in it the kingdom to come is compared to a wedding feast.  The wedding feast is the setting and the imagery.  Is the kingdom to come actually a wedding feast?  No, but the image conveys wisdom and truth.  Will we literally meet Jesus and those who have died in the clouds?  It’s possible, I suppose, but not likely.  The fantastic imagery suggestions the grandness of our hope in the resurrection.

Jesus’ parable of the ten bridesmaids with their oil lamps raises so many questions that it is difficult to focus in on the plain meaning of the story.  Who do the bridesmaids represent?  Who is the groom?  What is the oil that is so important?  Why do some have enough and others do not?  Why can’t the five with oil share?  If the point of an oil lamp is to give light, why can’t the five without enough oil simply walk beside those whose lamps are burning bright?  Why can’t the door to the banquet be opened?  Why doesn’t the person in charge “know” the bridesmaids invited to the wedding?  And finally, if the problem is not having enough oil, why does Jesus say the point of the story is “Stay awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour”? 

Well, as I have said before, it is Jesus’ story so he gets to tell it any way he wants.  The core truth of his parable seems to be the things we do today matter at the end.  How we prepare, how we live, what we do and don’t do carries with us.  Our participation in worship makes a difference.  Our kindness, our generosity, and our hospitality form something in us that will endure into the life to come.  Likewise, our coldness, our indifference, and our cruelty also matter.  They create a barrier to the life to come.  It is a message both hopeful and sobering.  Hopeful because the good we do crafts something that will endure.  Sobering because our inattentiveness to the things that matter cannot be undone.

All in all, our readings point to our hope in the resurrection and call on us to live today in a way that will build in us and in our world something that will translate into the life to come.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect on Religion

A pastor tells the congregation the focus of next week’s sermon is going to be on lying and she wants everyone to read Mark, chapter 17 during the week to be better prepared.  The next Sunday she begins her sermon by asking how many people had a chance to do the reading.  Almost everyone raises a hand.  Then the pastor says, “Let me begin my sermon on lying by telling you the Gospel of Mark only has 16 chapters.”

We Episcopalians are smart enough to know we don’t know as much about the bible as some of our friends who go to other churches.  We don’t have bible verses memorized and we struggle to know where to find a particular passage.  No one in our Sunday morning lectionary discussion group is afraid to admit to not understanding what the bible is saying.  We know we don’t know a lot about the bible and no one is trying to hide it.  All in all, this is not a bad thing.

Our gospel readings over the last few Sundays have featured a parade of religious types, scholars, and civil authorities approaching Jesus with questions to test and trap him.  Today Jesus turns the table on them and says, “Let me ask you a question” and it turns out to be a doozy.  The learned people who are out to get him are unable to come up with an answer. 

In life, it is difficult to know what you don’t know.  Here is the interesting thing, the less you know the more you think you know.  In psychology they call this the Dunning-Kruger Effect, named for social psychologists David Dunning and Justin Kruger.  Through a series of experiments they determined people of low ability mistakenly assess their competence as being higher than it actually is.  At the same time, people with high ability tend to underestimate their competency. 

They came to this conclusion after administering a series of tests to a number of students at Cornell University, covering subjects such as grammar, math, and history.  After each test they asked the students to rank how they thought they did.  Students who scored in the bottom fourth consistently believed they were in the top 25%.  Students who actually scored in the top 10% believed themselves to be about average. 

We see the Dunning-Kruger Effect playing out in today’s reading.  People with substantially lower ability than Jesus continue to come after him thinking they can best him.  We see it playing out in our national discourse, community meetings, and places of employment.  Rather than thinking and acting smarter, we turn to talking louder and louder. 

Bertrand Russell famously observed, “One of the painful things about our time is that those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision.”  Dunning and Kruger learned the most confident people are the ones with the least competency.  The more you learn and the greater your skill becomes the more you realize what you don’t know and don’t understand, thus the less confident you feel. 

All of this is to say there is something admirable about the way we Episcopalians admit our ignorance about the bible.  No one I know in our church pretends to know more than he or she knows and while we are not out there trying to hide our ignorance, no one is flaunting it either.  We know we don’t know and we’re O.K. with it.

In truth, we know more than we think.  The old Anglican dictum of majoring in the majors and minoring in the minors perfectly expresses our approach to the bible.  We tend to focus on what matters most.  This morning we hear Jesus boil down everything in bible to two simple commands: love God and love your neighbor.  It is an idea so major we cite it every Sunday morning in our Rite 1 liturgy.  We tend not to focus on the minors in scripture so we can’t quote Paul chapter and verse to back up our beliefs.  We are too busy focusing our thoughts on how to love God and how to love our neighbors, especially the ones who are difficult to love.

So, while we may not know the bible as well as some of our Christian friends, I think we Episcopalians excel at living the bible; not in the way some of our Christian friends do by not smoking or drinking or dancing or playing cards, but by paying attention to what really matters… by majoring in the majors. 

In today’s Epistle reading, Paul writes to the Thessalonians how he was gentle when he was with them.  I think there is a gentleness about us Episcopalians.  We are more likely to help you find your place in the prayer book than to beat you over the head with a bible.  There is a humility at work among us.  We are not biblical scholars nor are we pious monks.  We are simply people trying to do what matters most… loving God while being kind and good to one another.  We are not perfect at either, but we know we are not perfect and that is not altogether a bad thing.

"Likeness" and the #MeToo Movement

The old Irish priest Father O’Malley hadn’t been on vacation in years, so he decided to take some time off.  Of all the places he could have gone - Rome, Jerusalem, Iona, or some other holy destination - Father O’Malley set off for Las Vegas.  Upon arriving, as he is leaving the airport, a complete stranger approaches him and excitedly says, “Elvis!  You are Elvis!  I always knew you were still alive.”  Father O’Malley, somewhat embarrassed, responds, “I am not Elvis.  I don’t even look a thing like Elvis.” 

He walks away and hails a cab.  The driver takes one look at him and says, “Elvis!  I am your number one fan.  Everyone said you were dead, but I never believed it.”  Father O’Malley, now somewhat annoyed says, “I am not Elvis.  I don’t look like Elvis.  Elvis is dead.” 

The cab drops off Father O’Malley at his hotel and he walks to the reception desk to check in.  The attendant takes one look at him and says, “Elvis, I always knew you would come back.  We’ve kept your penthouse room ready for you ever since they said you died.  It has everything just the way you like it, free food and liquor, a masseurs is standing by, and you have a commanding view of the pool where the showgirls lounge when they are not working.  Oh, Elvis,” the attendant says, “We are so glad you are back.  You can stay with us as long as you like and the bill is on us.”  Father O’Malley looks the attendant straight in the eyes and says, “Well, thank you honey, thank you very much.”

The human ability to recognize a face is a truly remarkable thing.  Some of us are better at it than others.  The Rev. Gay Jennings, who preached at our anniversary celebration, has complete name and face recall.  She has met thousands upon thousands of people through her work in the Episcopal Church and she remembers every person, which is both impressive and spooky.  For people like me who are name and face challenged, advances in facial recognition technology provide hope.  Someday we will be able to wear glasses with facial recognition ability and information about each person we look at will be displayed on the lens so only we can see it. 

We have come a long way from today’s gospel reading were Jesus spares with his detractors.  “Should we pay taxes?” they ask him.  Jesus responds, “Whose face and title are on the Roman coin?”  They know it is the Emperor even though they have never seen him face to face. 

The bible version we use translations Jesus’ question in this way: “Who head is this, and whose title?”  But this is not quite accurate.  Matthew uses a very specific Greek word – ikon – that here is translated ‘head’.  It is the same word used in the original Greek translation of the bible when God says in Genesis, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness.”  Ikon means likeness.  A more accurate translation would have Jesus asking of the coin, “Whose likeness is on it?”  

It is a subtle, but significant difference.  Jews held these coins in contempt for two reasons.  First, they were forced to use this currency and only this currency to pay a detested Roman tax.  And second, it violated two of the Ten Commandments:  have no other God but me, and do not make graven images.  The Emperor’s claim to be divine is inscribed on every coin bearing his image.  He distorts his likeness of being created in the image of God by claiming to be made in the image of himself.

Jesus reminds his questioners we are all created in the likeness of God and this calls us to a higher level of living and purpose.  We are to act like the true and living God, not like gods who pursue our own ends with disregard to the impact our actions have on others.  Turn and take a look at the person sitting next to you in the pew.  Who do you see and what do you see?  Do you see a person created in the likeness of God?  If so, how are you called to honor the likeness of God in this person?

I spent this past week paying close attention to Facebook as female friends, colleagues, and family members posted in the #MeToo campaign.   Though it began some ten years ago, the movement took off last weekend in response to multiple allegations of sexual harassment and assault leveled against movie executive Harvey Winestein.  By posting #MeToo a person is stating she (or in some cases he) also has been the victim of this kind of behavior/criminal activity. 

One priest told her story on her blog site, calling herself “lucky” because her experiences of sexual harassment have been “relatively minor.”  She then goes on to describe six separate incidents involving six different men occurring over the ten years she has worked in the church as a lay person and now as an ordained woman. 

I have talked with a few of you this week and your anger and your pain are evident.  I feel your fear, not only for yourself, but for your daughters growing up in a world where a person can brag about inappropriately touching women and still get elected to the highest office in our country.

My own response to the #MeToo movement has been all over the map.  I am angry.  I am sad.  I am ashamed to be a male in a society where so many of my gender act in such shameful ways.  I am encouraged as women find the courage to speak up.  I am hopeful things will change.

From the time I was an adolescent I have striven to treat women with dignity and respect.  For me, my behavior has always been grounded in my theology.  When I look at a woman I sense and see a person created in the likeness of God.  What I say to her, how I treat her, and what I do to her, I am saying and doing to God.  It never occurred to me to use a woman or women to satisfy my own needs for domination, self-esteem, personal pleasure or whatever else it is the Harvey Winesteins of the world derive for their horrible behavior.

Gentlemen, through our baptismal covenant we promise “to seek and serve Christ in all persons.”  Groping, inappropriate comments, and intimidating behavior are direct violations of this sacred promise.  They are sins and the behavior is sinful.  Treat women the way you would like men to treat your daughter and granddaughter.

Ladies, and especially you young ladies, through our baptismal covenant you promise “to respect the dignity of every human being.”  I am deeply sorry for every time a man has violated your dignity and I call on you to do what that person did not – respect your own dignity, value, and worth. 

Your value and worth are not derived from how men see and treat (or mistreat) you.  You have dignity and worth because you are created in the image and likeness of God.  Think about this for a moment.  I believe it is a claim even more remarkable than the Resurrection.  The God who conceived and brought into being all creation, made you in his image and in her likeness.  So continue to assert your dignity by telling your story.  Continue to assert your dignity by having the courage to stand for your rights.  There are many people, both men and women, who will stand with you.  I will stand with you.

The Christian claim is this: our world and our relationships have fantastic potential because we are made in the likeness of the relational harmony of the Holy Trinity, which is at the heart and core of all reality.  The Christian faith holds God’s love will be manifested in this world as we live and treat one another in the way we wish to be treated.  The Christian belief states forgiveness is possible and the amendment of life is a gift from God we receive through the power of the Holy Spirit as we seek to change our ways.  The Christian hope believes it is within our ability to make this world a better, safer, more holy place for everyone, a place where God’s likeness flourishes in each person.

Defiant Individualism

Weddings have a way of bringing out the best in a family and also the worst.  Now, I know you know I was in Ohio last week to officiate the wedding of my youngest niece, and I know you know I have stories to tell about it.  However, since I post my sermons on a blog site and they are open for everyone to read, I think it best if I simply skip over the details and allow your imagination to run wild. 

Weddings are potent occasions.  Think how Mario Puzo introduces us to the Corleone family by setting the beginning his first Godfather book at a wedding.  Francis Ford Coppola’s movie adaption of the wedding magnificently captures the subtleties and nuances of each family member’s character, giving us a glimpse of what will unfold for each throughout the trilogy. 

Jesus, himself a master storyteller, understands how the setting of a wedding connects with his listeners.  They know firsthand how weddings bring to the surface all kinds of family and community “stuff.”  Today we hear one of Jesus’ wedding parables.  Like all good stories, it takes unexpected twists and turns, startling the audience and creating controversy.

The son of a king is getting married.  The king prepares a lavish banquet to celebrate.  This is what you would expect.  So too is the guest list.  The king invites all the local dignitaries and worthies.  Startling detail #1: the guests refuse to attend.  #2: they abuse and mistreat the king’s messengers, even going so far as to kill some.  Who, in their right mind, would do such a thing?  Well, in Jesus’ story, these people represent the religious leaders and social hierarchy of the day who have ignored God’s prophets for generations.  In the story, the king’s response is predicable: he sends his troops to punish the offenders. 

Now, we might expect the king to call off the entire celebration, but here the plot twists again.  He sends his messengers to comb the streets, inviting everyone they encounter, both “the good” and “the bad.”  As a result, the wedding hall is filled with guests, but it is a motley crew of folks to be sure.  These people represent those who have decided to respond to Jesus’ call to repent, to believe, and to follow. 

The final startling detail comes as the king surveys his last minute guests.  One person is not wearing a ceremonial wedding robe.  The king confronts him and orders his attendants to bind the person hands and feet and to throw him into the “outer darkness”.

There are many different interpretations as to what the wedding robe represents.  It could be faith or holiness of life or even charity.  Some connect it to the Book of Revelation where the faithful are clothed with a white robe.  Some say the robe would have been provided by the king while others hold each person would have been responsible for bringing his or her own robe.  It is not clear on whose side Jesus’ initial audience would have sided.  Would they have thought it offensive the guest appeared without the robe or would they have judged the king to be unreasonable given the last-minute invitation?

This much is clear.  As Jesus tells the story, every other guest manages to do something this one person does not.  His decision to appear without a robe is a conscious and deliberate choice.  I describe it as an act of defiant individualism.  He is willing to come to the wedding banquet, but only on his own terms. 

I have said before I believe one of the most important steps in our spiritual life is a move from a “me-orientation” to an “us-orientation.”  It is an important step in one’s family life, in one’s civic life, and in one’s religious life.  If you are going to have a healthy marriage, happy family, sustained employment, make contributions in the community where you live and the church where you worship, you are going to have to do two things.  First, you will have to discover what you can contribute to the common good and second, you must discern which of your personal desires and aspirations will need to be laid aside in order to become a part of something much bigger than yourself.

A newspaper article from the September 29 Carteret County News-Times illustrates what the opposite of defiant individualism looks like.  The report chronicles the experience of two Morehead City residents who rode out Hurricanes Irma and Maria on two different islands in the Caribbean.  One of these people is Sharp Kemp.  He and his wife, Margie, live on St. John’s and were there when Irma did significant damage and then when the island took a direct hit from Maria.  Allow me to read from the article:

Mr. Kemp wants to stay and rebuild his charter boat business, according to his father, Skip Kemp of Morehead City.

“He had three boats and lost two of them, but he’s alright,” said Mr. Kemp, who has sporadic contact with his son when he’s able to get a signal on the ravaged island.

“A lot of houses around them were destroyed, but they still have a roof,” said Skip Kemp. “Right now they are staying at [Margie’s] father’s house on the island.  They’re putting up about 20 people who have been displaced from their homes.”

He said Ms. Kemp’s father, Tom Coxe of Suffolk, Va., was on the island during Hurricane Maria.

“He had gone down to take relief supplies before Maria hit, and then he got stuck on the island.  He’s still there helping,” Mr. Kemp said.

Perhaps the opposite of defiant individualism is radical selflessness and hospitality – an orientation to employ who you are and what you have in the service of others.

The man without the wedding garment is judged rather harshly for his defiant individualism.  He is cast out of the wedding celebration where the community is gathered.  Focusing on self-interest alone actually has the effect of impoverishing his life.  The same judgment holds for anyone who presses upon others a defiant sense of individualism; be it in a family, a neighborhood, a community, or a church.  Such persons limit their world, their existence, and their spirit to their own finite vision of life; never once thinking they could find something greater if they just looked beyond themselves. 

Martin Luther talked about sin as being “incurvatus in se” – a state of being turned in on one’s self to such a degree that no one else matters.  In the final analysis, unwillingness to let go of self in order to join with others blocks a person’s path to fuller life in God’s kingdom. 

Through this parable, Jesus invites each of us to put on the garment of selfless humility and to join with a community of faithful believers in order to experience the richness and joy of God’s kingdom on earth.  How are you going to respond to this invitation?  What of yourself do you need to lay aside in order to accept it?