Asking & Reaching

 

Mark 5:21-43

Proper 8 / Year B

Once again we find Jesus on the move.  Last week he went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.  You recall the storm and the panic.  Today he is returning home and this time with no drama in transit.  But the action picks up as soon as Jesus steps ashore.  He is mobbed… again.  This is why he left in the first place… so many people crowding in on him he doesn’t have even enough space to eat a meal.  Jesus doesn’t need disciples, he needs bouncers and body guards. 

And we get it.  We know how people in need are desperate for remedies.  I once knew this typical Presbyterian couple (i.e., not inclined toward the religious fringes) whose grandchild was born with a severe birth aliment.  Well, of course they had the baby put on the church’s prayer list.  Then various groups in the church began to pray.  Than other churches began to pray.  Eventually, the baby, his parents, and the grandparents were lifted up in prayer by people all over the world.  But the baby’s condition did not improve.  So the grandparents decided to go to a service led by a TV evangelist known for his miraculous healings.  It was an act of desperation.  What they found, you will not be surprised to hear, was a charlatan grifting vulnerable people by hocking all manner of expensive religious items – bibles, clothes, crosses, and the like – said have wonderous powers.

The people who come to Jesus in need come because they know him to be compassionate, not a con artist.  In today’s reading we hear the incredible stories of a well-placed family and of an ostracized woman, each in need of healing.  We are told a leader in the local synagogue falls at Jesus’ feet and begs him to visit his ‘little girl’ who is near death.  We get the sense time is of the essence as Jesus sets off with the mob in tow.

There is a woman in the crowd who, we are told, has been suffering from an issue of blood for twelve years, perhaps since on the onset of puberty.  All this time she has been deemed unclean.  Everything she wears, everywhere she sits, any bed on which she lays is rendered unclean.  She has been to every doctor in town, but none can help and we are told some have made her condition even worse. 

But she is a tenacious fighter and she has faith.  She reasons if she merely touches the hem of Jesus’ cloak she will be healed.  And it happens!  One commentator writes we should never refer to her as ‘the woman with the issue of blood’, but as ‘the woman with great faith’ because it is her faith and her determination which defines her, not her illness.  And in this, she reminds me of so many in our midst who have lived with great faith in the face of sickness.

The back-and-forth between Jesus and the woman is so rich and, like many of the details in today’s reading, could be explored for hours and still not be exhausted.  But as they talk, we hear the clock ticking.  Jesus is delayed while he is urgently needed elsewhere.  Our worst fears are confirmed when a group arrives from the leader’s house to inform him his daughter is dead.

It is the worst news any parent can ever receive.  It must be devastating for the father, overwhelming him which shock and grief.  Jesus encourages him, “Do not fear, but believe.”  They get to the house and it is a chaotic scene.  When Jesus announces the little girl is not dead but sleeping, the wailing of the mourners turns into derision.  Jesus has makes himself incredibly vulnerable.  He risks ridicule and the ruin of his ministry.

He leaves the mob behind and lets only the parents and three close followers join him in the house.  The mood of the story changes.  They have left the bedlam behind and entered into a bedroom marked by peace and serenity.  We can almost hear the tenderness in Jesus’ voice as he takes the child by the hand and says, “Little girl, get up” and then “give here something to eat.”

As I said, these stories are so rich with details there are dozens of different ways to explore them.  Here is the thing I keep coming back to – how Jesus is approached for help.  The synagogue leader outright begs Jesus to help his daughter, just like the times when we ask for help for ourselves or for others.  Knowing when you are in over your head, out of your element, and/or overmatched is a sign of personal maturity (self-awareness), never weakness.

Then there is the woman with great faith.  She doesn’t ask for help, rather reaches out for the help she needs.  If she can but touch it, grasp it her hands, she knows what to do with it.  She believes it will make all the difference.  And remember the detail about all the local doctors.  It tells us she had been reaching out for the last twelve years, only not to the person who truly has what she needs. 

We all have needs in life.  We all know and love folks who are in need.  Remember the two stories we hear this morning and consider on what guidance either might have to offer you.

The Fear of Miracles

 

Mark 4:35-41

Proper 7 / Year B

In the reading we just heard Jesus calls his followers to join him on what we might call a missionary journey.  He wants to go across the Sea of Galilee to the other side.  Up until now they have been in and around what for them is familiar territory - Capernaum.  They have been among family and friends, sometimes with mixed results (remember some think Jesus has lost his mind while others posit he is possessed by a demon).  Now they are headed to a strange and unknown new place – Garasenes.  What it holds for them must be a cause for speculation and concern, but at least they are travelling on what for many in the group is a known confine – the water.

Jesus falls fast asleep while a small flotilla of boasts makes its way forward during the night hours.  But the weather changes.  It goes from bad to worse to life-threatening.  Even those who make their living on the sea are in a panic.  You heard how the story unfolds.  They wake up Jesus and he rebukes the wind (as if it is possessed) and tells the waves to be still.  With this, we are told, a “dead calm” sets in.

According to the version we heard, the disciples are filled with “great awe”, but this is a misleading rendering.  A literal translation of the text would be they “feared a great fear.”  Some bibles read they are “filled with great fear,” others “feared exceedingly”, and still others they are “absolutely terrified.”  We might want to ask why.  Why does Jesus’ dramatic display elicit such immense dread from his followers?

You may be surprised to learn there is actually a name for the fear of miracles – thaumatophobia.  It is a subject touched on in Leif Enger’s 2001 book Peace Like a River.  Written to amuse his children and often filling its plots with story lines suggested by them, it tells the story of Reuban Land who, born with a chronic lung condition, is miraculously saved by his father at childbirth.  The book is littered with various kinds of miracles – like a bowl of soup which never runs out and a car with a gas tank never in need of refilling. 

Now, admittedly, most of these ‘miracles’ are more like oddities, but a few are truly confounding.  Reuben, the story’s narrator, says this:

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature.  Its true. They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in.  Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave – now there’s a miracle, and can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time.

Reuben concludes his thought with this insight: “People fear miracles because they fear being changed.”

I understand what Enger is getting at.  Miracles force us to grapple with the fact the world is not what we think.  Its predictability can be suspended by a Being beyond us or, as is the case with today’s reading, by a person among us.  And if this is correct than we must face the reality we are walking in the unknown, misguided by a comforting disillusion the way in which we have ordered things still holds true.

Here is how I would have liked today’s gospel reading to unfold:

They were out on the water and Jesus was asleep when a great storm arose and the boat was being swamped.  In a panic they awoke Jesus who immediately organized his followers.  The sailors sailed while the land lovers grabbed buckets and bailed furiously. The struggle was tremendous but Jesus was not afraid and kept encouraging them to persevere.  After battling the elements with all their might and near exhaustion, the boats reached shore and safe harbor.  Jesus looked at his followers and said, “See, I knew you had it in you.”  The disciples were filled with a great sense of accomplishment saying, “Look what we can do when believe in ourselves and we work together!”

Wouldn’t this be a more comforting way for all of this to have unfolded.  Jesus – the motivational speaker who keeps our spirits high, even when the going gets tough.  I could preach a hundred different sermon on a story like this.

But this isn’t what happened, is it.  The people in those boats come face-to-face with a person who is more than a good storyteller and more than someone who can heal all manner of infirmity.  They are confronted with the reality Jesus possesses the ability to alter natural forces – literally to change the course of reality.  It is no long possible merely to follow Jesus as a teacher or rabbi or great physician.  He holds power over all creation, as only God does.  It changes everything – realigning how they (and we) are in relationship with Jesus.

When the Reuben Land character says “People fear miracles because they fear being changed” he adds, “though ignoring them will change you also.”  How will today’s story change you?

What You Give & How It Grows

 

Mark 4:26-34

Proper 6 / Year B

There is always more to Jesus’ parables than meets the eye.  Most are not strict allegories where every little detail has a significant meaning.  But parables, while having a straight-forward message, often have a subtext; an important nuance easy to miss.  Take today’s parable of the mustard seed.  The plain meaning is great things often have small beginnings; just like the mustard seed that, while being tiny, grows into a tree large enough for birds to nest in its branches.  The birds provide the nuanced element to the parable.  

The other day I noticed a small flock of birds pecking around in my yard.  They were eating seeds of some kind, hopefully weeds because I have lots of those.  Here is the rub: if the birds eat every seed and none are left, no new growth will happen and no new seeds will be produced.  If they consume everything available to them they will insure their own demise.  Think of the birds in Jesus’ parable.  If they peck every seed, even the tiny mustard seed, there will be no tree and they will have no place for shelter and rest.  It is an important lesson to learn.  

One way we define ourselves is by pointing to what we have and what we own.  The mustard seed story reminds us we are also what we conserve.  Just as important as what we have is what we do not have.  Just as significant as what we consume is how we refrain.  Just as defining as what we take from life is what we give back.  If we are all take and no give our lives, and the lives of many others, will be greatly diminished.

If your aim in life is godliness then this is a central concern.  God, who appeared to Moses as a burning bush which the flame existed in but did not consume, needs nothing, takes nothing, and exhausts nothing.  God’s nature is revealed as always giving: creation, life, love, forgiveness, providential care, the Incarnate Son, the presence and the power of the Holy Spirit.  We know God only through what God gives to us.  If we are to reflect anything of God’s life then we too must learn what it means to give.

Perhaps you have heard the story of the old wild west prospector and the pump.  The man is plodding across a searing desert landscape and has run out of water.  His situation is dire and he is desperate.  Then, as if a miracle, he stumbles upon a water pump.  Over and over and over again he cranks the handle, but nothing comes out.  Then, nearby, he notices a jug with water in it.  The jug has a note on it.  It explains the water is necessary to prime the pump.  Without it, no water will come out, but once primed it will gush forth.  Finally, the note instructs the user to refill the jug before leaving so the next person will be able to prime the pump.  Well, the prospector is faced with a dilemma.  If he trusts the note and it doesn’t work he will have wasted the only water he has.  If it does work he will be saved and the next person who happens by just might be as well.  I have heard two endings to this story.  In one, the prospector drinks what is in the jug and the pump is rendered inoperable.  In the other, he does as the note instructs and once primed the pump produces unimaginable amounts of cool, clear, refreshing water.  Ponder each possibility and the lesson it tells.

Winston Churchill once noted what you earn makes a living, but what you give makes a life.  I knew a person who once sported a bumper sticker on his Corvette which read, “In the end, the one with the most toys wins” and that is exactly how he lived his life… until he went bankrupt and lost everything.  I don’t ever remember a funeral where a family member spoke of the departed listing all the things the person acquired in life.  Now, they will speak about the things the person enjoyed doing in life... fishing, baking, whatever.  But more than anything the speaker describes how the person gave of himself or herself – to family, to friends, to the community.  What you earn makes a living.  What you give makes a life.

And, at least by the measure of today’s parable, what you give is a seed, a possibility.  And God is all about making something significant out of possibilities.  After the seed is scattered the parable notes “the earth produces of itself.”  The Greek word used here is automaton, from with we get the word ‘automated.’  The meaning is straight-forward.  We give of ourselves, but often have no control over what happens next.  This is when God gets to work taking our seed through the germination process to bountiful harvest.  

I suspect most of us have little idea just how much richness we add to life.  This is because we are often unaware of how God uses our goodness and giving in ways we cannot know or imagine.  I have a thick stack of notes people have sent me over the years.  They are from parishioners and other folks thanking me for one thing or another, some of which I don’t even remember doing.  Individually, most of the notes describe something which cost me very little.  Taken as a whole, they are overwhelming proof God can and does work through us and our feeble efforts.  

I hope you have some kind of sacrament like my notes; something which speaks gently, but clearly about how God has brought a bountiful harvest from the seeds you have sown.  If you measure your life by your net worth on a portfolio statement I encourage you to recalibrate your thinking.  Life is not about what you have.  It is about what you give, and what God does with it.

 

Deviant Accusations

 

Mark 3:20-35

Proper 5 / Year B

I trust our children today still learn the adage “sticks and stones may break your bones but names will never hurt me.”  It has been around at least since the early 1800s and serves as an effect reminder not to let the words of bullies get you riled.  The only problem is names actually can hurt you, at least according to sociologists who research what they call “deviant accusations” or “negative labeling” and examine how it can undermine a person’s status in the community.  Think about how peoples’ lives were changed in the 50s by being tagged ‘pinko’ or ‘commie.’  Does it make a difference in school if you are labeled a ‘shining star’ or a ‘trouble-maker’?  You bet it does.  I remember the first time a person called me a ‘snowflake.’  I had never heard the term before, but knew inherently it was not a complement.

In first century Israel, labels had a devastating effect on how a person was perceived and treated.  How often in the gospels is a person referred to as being a ‘sinner’ and how often is Jesus criticized for associating with them?  Being labeled ‘unclean’ got a person barred from social gatherings.  Being known as ‘barren’ became a horrifying stigma. 

This morning, we read of Jesus being the recipient of two deviant accusations; each coming from a source which carries a lot of weight.  The first comes from his own family, his mother and siblings.  They show up at a public gathering where Jesus is the center of attention; intending a kind of intervention because they believe Jesus has lost his mind – literally gone crazy.  It is early on in his public ministry and they don’t know how else to make sense out of what he is saying and doing. 

The other deviant accusation comes from religious authorities; respected and admired community leaders.  They assert Jesus is demon possessed.  It is how they make sense of his power and attempt to explain his deeds.  The accusation of sorcery, if made to stick, would be nearly impossible to shake.   

Sticks and stones, right.  Wrong.  The accusations hurled at Jesus are potent social weapons holding the potential to undermine his public standing and reputation.  If accepted, they will destroy his credibility with the very people he is trying to touch with God’s love.

So, labeling theory holds people view a person or a group differently once they have been labeled.  Think how your perception of a person changes when, for example, they have the word ‘criminal’ attached to them.  The label changes how we see them.  But it also changes them.  Once they are tagged with ‘criminal’, they see themselves differently.  It will reshape and perhaps even overtake their own self-identity.

The phrase “looking glass self” was first coined by Charles Cooley in 1902.  It describes how a person’s sense of self is dependent upon how one believes he or she appears to others.  He based this theory on his observations of childhood social development:

First, we imagine how we appear to others.

Next, we imagine how others are judging us based on how they appear to response to us (this is where deviant labeling fits in).

Finally, we imagine how others feel about us based on the judgments they make.

Cooley emphasized each one of us has the ability to decide which judgements to accept when forming a sense of self and which to reject.  How much weight do you give to your supporters and how much credence do you give to your detractors?

Having your family say you’re out of your mind and having religious leaders accuse you of being demon-possessed must have been unsettling to Jesus.  He dismisses the second accusation by asserting you cannot work against something while at the same time being for it – “a house divided against itself cannot stand.” 

He mitigates the first deviant accusation by redefining how he experiences ‘family’ in his life.  Yes, he has a mother and siblings and, based on today’s story at least, we can assume there are some interesting dynamics at play in their family.  We tend to romanticize the family unit; positing it to be a place of complete peace and harmony.  Some are.  Most are not.  Something is amiss with Jesus’ family of origin.  We don’t know what it is, but in those who gather around him, who seek to know and do God’s will, Jesus finds a family even closer than his biological relatives – just as each of us here this morning comes from our own interesting family of origin and finds in our wider faith community a new kind of family.

I suspect Jesus, upon being labeled crazy and possessed, recalled another time he was labeled.  It was the time he rose out of the waters of the Jordon River and heard God’s voice proclaim, “You are my child.  I love you.  With you I am well-pleased.”  It is the same label we received at baptism and it is irrevocable.  I suspect Jesus leaned heavily upon how God responded to him.  I suspect it helped him to sort through the deviant accusations he endured.  And I hope you will always, always, always lean on your baptismal label as being the foundation of who you are.  

Sabbath

 

Mark 2:23-3:6

Proper 4 / Year A

Some of you remember Art Bunton, who passed away in 2013.  He had a tendency after church to flag me down in the Parish Hall.  “Sit down here,” he would say to me, tapping a chair next to his.  “I have a question for you,” he would say in droll, drawn out way of speaking.  “Where is everyone?”  I was never quite sure who the ‘everyone’ was he was referring to.  “You need to preach a sermon and tell these people they need to be in church.”  My response: “Why would I preach a sermon about the importance of being in church to the people who are already in church?”  Art and I had this same conversation at least a dozen different times.

I have known clergy who, at Christmas and Easter, jabbingly remind people the church will be open for worship the next Sunday.  I have never found shaming and blaming folks who are not in church to be an effective approach to change behavior.  Nor do I think those not here can be ‘argued’ into attending through a thoughtful sermon addressing the subject (especially if they are not in church to begin with!). 

And many are not.  A study group has learned in the decade since Art Bunton passed away those who say religion is an important part of their life has declined from 63% to 52%.  In fact, almost a quarter of Americans consider themselves religiously unaffiliated.  Researchers are working hard to come up with new names to describe these emerging groups.  “Nonverts” refers to people who were once religiously affiliated, but are no longer.  “Cradle Nons” refer to people who from birth have never been a part of a faith community.

What are the results of this disengagement?  This past week, two professors from the University of Indianapolis posted an op-ed piece which addresses this very question.  They suggest not being a part of a faith community contributes to a loss of identity and the depletion of shared community values.  It creates a deficiency of trust and shallowness of caring about others.  It leads to disconnection and increased loneliness.  Those who are not a part of a faith community on average are less likely to participate in other kinds of civic engagement, things like social groups and signing petitions.

It is a bleak picture, and, as I said, no sermon is likely going to result in you having to give up your favorite pew to the hordes of people who are coming back after I finish preaching today.  Sorry Art.  But here is what I can do this morning.  I can help you to think more deeply about why religious affiliation matters to you and to have more clarity about how it shapes your life.

This morning’s readings from Scripture invite us to reflect on keeping the Sabbath – one day a week set aside solely for religious observance.  How important is it?  Well, it makes it into the Ten Commandments… so pretty important.  These commandments appear twice in the Old Testament: in the Book of Exodus and in today’s reading from Deuteronomy.  The two readings cite different theological rationales for keeping a weekly day of religious devotion.

In Exodus Moses tells us to keep the Sabbath because for six days God created and on the seventh day God rested.  Sabbath keeping, then, is a way of remembering in whose image we are made.  It invites us to embrace God’s communicable attributes at work in us: love, faithful, goodness, mercy, wisdom, justice, etc.  It shifts our focus away from me, myself, and I to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  In subtle and not so subtle ways, our regular participation in this parish makes us different people; not necessarily better than others but definitely more like who we are created to be.

In Deuteronomy Moses tells us to keep the Sabbath because when we were slaves in Egypt we never had a day of rest.  We worked non-stop seven days a week.  Keeping Sabbath reminds us the world will get along with us for a little while, that we cannot rest only once all the work is done (because our work is never completely done), that we are not human doings, rather we are human beings.  Through Sabbath observance we reject the yoke of slavery in all its many forms and acknowledge we belong to God.

Sabbath-keeping is essential to human health and flourishing, but by Jesus’ day it has become overregulated by centuries of traditions monitored and enforced by religious authorities.  Throughout his earthly ministry – through his actions and teachings – Jesus works to free people from the Sabbath in order to keep the Sabbath.  He strips away the burden in order to reveal the life.

I hope you sense this place to be a place of life, not burden.  The Pew Research Center found people like you and me value our religious affiliation for several reasons.  We come here because it is a place where we can be happy.  Here we make and listen to music.  We learn things here, meet people, and find a sense of peace.  This is where we gain a sense of belonging.  We are able to support others when they need a helping hand and to receive support when we need it.  Here we connect with God through worship, prayer, music, reflection, and the sacraments. 

These human needs are so basic to everyone I trust those who are not religiously affiliated garner some of them through some other kind of involvement.  I am not here to criticize any of them.  I do want to say I believe God’s desire for us to flourish is best nurtured through religious affiliation.  God gave us the Sabbath.  Jesus Christ died for us.  The Holy Spirit came to give birth to the Church.  It is no accident we are here.  It is a part of God’s dream for all people and I trust by being here this day you sense you are living into the dream.

Adoption

 

John 3:1-17

Trinity Sunday / Year B

If you recall last week’s sermon you remember I preached about ‘bearable truths’, those things which Jesus wanted his disciples to know but also knew they were not yet ready to hear.  “The Holy Spirit,” he told them, “will lead you into all truth.”  Well, today we get to focus on one of those bearable truths – the doctrine of the Holy Trinity.  The word ‘trinity’ is never found in Scripture nor is the concept addressed explicitly in any form.  Still, there are multiple passages in both testaments which refer to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  And it took the Church the better part of four centuries and several world-wide councils to produce statements declaring the orthodox faith regarding God’s triune nature.  And most often we came to this position only by rejecting ideas and notions we did not hold to be true – what became known as heresy.

In seminary we spent a lot of time examining the nuances of the Christological councils which developed such statements as the Nicene Creed, the Creed of Chalcedon, and the Creed of Saint Athanasius.  We didn’t just study them, we wrote papers about them and took tests on them in the sure and certain hope one day good people like you would come up to us after church and ask us a pointed question about them (a blessed moment thankfully yet to occur in my ordained life). 

I suppose it is worth noting from today’s gospel reading Nicodemus, a highly regarded teacher in his day, in spite of all of his education, cannot comprehend the basics of what Jesus is saying to him.  Which is to say, the realm of faith is not the private domain of lofty, learned ones.  It belongs to every person who has been born from above, every person in whom God’s Spirit dwells.

This past week I browsed through J.I. Packer’s 1973 classic work, Knowing God, a book I first read back in high school.  In it he argues one of the most important and least celebrated teachings of the church is the doctrine of adoption – the idea that through the Spirit we are adopted into God’s family, made sons and daughters, and become heirs of all the riches God has to share with us.   

In our second lesson we heard these words from the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Church in Rome:

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God...  You have received a spirit of adoption.  When we cry, “Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.

Consider just some of the attributes of God, those which are referred to as incommunicable – meaning we cannot share in them:

§  Omniscience: all wise and all knowing

§  Immutability: unchangeable

§  Omnipotence: all powerful

§  Omnipresence: everywhere

§  Infinite: without beginning or end

§  Self-sufficiency: without needs

Let that soak in for a moment or two.  No wonder Isaiah fell speechless before God, overwhelmed by his own unworthiness in the presence of Divine Majesty.  And yet Paul says you know the Spirit is in you when you cry out to God, “Abba!  Father!”, when you know yourself to be a member of the family. 

When we were not busy studying the Trinity in seminary we watched football.  One of my classmates was a huge fan of the Dallas Cowboys.  One Monday evening he invited me to his home to watch a game with him and his five-year-old son (who was also a fan of Big D).  Johnny Jr. started off the game with high level of energy, but, because the it didn’t begin until 9:00 PM, by halftime he was fading fast.  He did, what for me, was the most remarkable thing.  He crawled up into his father’s lap, snuggled in, and watched the game until he fell asleep, nestled in his father’s arms.  To the best of my memory I don’t recall ever falling asleep on my dad’s lap.  It was for me a revelation about the kind of intimate relationship possible between a father and a child.  It remains for me an image of “Abba! Father!” – the kind of relationship God seeks with each one of us.

Like any parent/child relationship, we hope what is worthy and notable about the elder gets passed on to the younger.  It is the same with God and God’s children.  We are called to mirror to the best of our abilities what are known as God’s communicable attributes – what of God’s nature we can manifest in our life:

§  Wisdom

§  Faithfulness

§  Goodness

§  Justice

§  Mercifulness

§  Graciousness

§  Love

§  Holiness

§  Glory and Beauty

Each of these we have seen lived out in fulness by Jesus Christ during his earthly ministry.  Through the power of the Holy Spirit (what we Episcopalians mean when we vow, “I will, with God’s help”), we too can communicate these qualities in and to the world.

Bearable Truth

 

John 15:26-27; 16:4-15

The Day of Pentecost / Year B

Jesus said to his disciples, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.  When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.”

Bearable truth.  When we were in kindergarten they taught us little George Washington said to his father, “I cannot tell a lie.  I chopped down the cherry tree.”  It was an age-appropriate lesson about the value of honesty.  Maybe it was 4^th grade American history when we learned Washington was the father of our country, our first president.  Perhaps in A.P. history we learned more about his public and private life; that he was a general and that he was a slave owner.  If you attended a military school you might have studied in detail the various battles Washington’s army fought; examining in great detail the tactics he employed and debating the merits of each move he made: not a conversation for a kindergarten class… not a bearable truth at that age.

Bearable truth.  When it comes to understanding God’s dream for all people and for all creation, we are on a journey of discovery because the time has to be right for the Spirit to give us a bearable truth.  Some circles hold God ‘gave’ us the bible, as if was a giant data dump of all truth for all time.  I reject this notion.  The bible is a product of multiple human authors spanning centuries of composition.  Each writer detects God’s activity in the world and records it in a way which is authoritative.  Our Catechism teaches, “We call Scripture the word of God because God inspired their human authors and because God still speaks to us through the Bible today.”  And the more we allow God to speak through the bible, the more truth we are given to bear.

For those first disciples the first bearable truth they learn is about Jesus Christ himself.  They come to see in a new and powerful way how the Scriptures of the original testament anticipate his coming into the world and speak a prophetic hope of what he will accomplish.  Consider today’s reading from the Book of Acts.  Peter, in his first public sermon ever, quotes a relatively obscure passage from the prophet Joel.  Now, this past week I read (what for me) was an interesting commentary about how Peter makes subtle changes to the original text so to make it more appropriate to his setting and time.  He gives new meaning to the prophet’s words in the light God’s deeds done in Jesus Christ.  Rest easy, I will not go into the details of the commentary!  All I want to say is it is a thrilling time to be a part of the Church as each day and each meeting brings new insight and revelation about the person who had been their companion for three years and is still present with them every time they break the bread and drink the wine.

This is the first bearable truth they learn and it is a blessing.  The second is more challenging.  We heard about it just a few weeks ago in the Lectionary reading.  Peter is in the home of Cornelius, a gentile.  Suddenly and without warning, the Holy Spirit descends upon this man and his entire household, just as it did in today’s reading upon a gathering which is entirely Jewish.  Well and good, you might think.  However, the early Church in no way, shape, or form thinks its ranks one day will be open to all people.  Without hesitation, Peter baptizes everyone present; an act which infuriates some of us brethren back in Jerusalem.  Once again those early believers are driven back to Scriptures and to the words and actions of Jesus.  Gradually they begin to discern God’s dream for all people is for all people and this becomes a bearable truth.

The early Church continues on its journey of discovery; at times being challenged by the culture and at times dealing with internal conflicts.  Paul writes at length to Christians about eating meat sacrificed to idols; a cultural issue thankfully settled by the Church well before our time.  The Church also endures various periods of persecution; some local and others more widespread.  Some Christians, even some bishops, under threat of punishment or death, recant the faith in order to survive.  When the persecution abates, the Church must discern how or if to welcome back those who have disavowed their faith.  More bearable truth must be discerned.

Evelyn Underhill famously wrote, “If we took the Christian faith seriously, ushers would not hand out bulletins in church.  They’d hand out crash helmets.”  If we are going to pursue God’s dream for all people we must acknowledge God is going to reveal it to us only in bearable truths.  Once we deal with one part of the dream which sweeps away a previously held convention, we are soon given a new truth to bear.  And just like the parable Jesus teaches about new and the old wine skins, a part of this journey is about discerning what to carry forward and what to leave behind.  The presence of the Holy Spirit lights our way.  It always bears witness to the truth.

This past week quietly marked the 36^th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood in 1988.  So much about our church has changed over the years and, at least from a historical perspective, changed rapidly.  Questions about gender equality, gender identity, same gender relationships, and the on-going stain of racism in our society have challenged our church.  As I see it, each has been initiated by some unexpected movement of the Holy Spirit which we have found present in places and people we did not expect, but cannot deny.  I for one and proud to be a part of a faith community strong enough to engage bearable truth.  I give thanks of this Pentecost Sunday for the Spirit who leads us into all truth.