"Sinners" or "Lost Sheep"

 

Luke 15:1-10

Proper 19 / Year C

You may not know who the 19^th century British writer Alexander William Kinglake is.   And you may never have read his book, Eothen: Traces of Travel Brought Home from the East, published in 1841.  But I guarantee you know one bit of wisdom he is credited with creating which appears in it:

Sticks and stones may break my bones

  but names will never hurt me.

One of the most famous nursery rhymes ever written, it is taught to grade school children as a way to respond to name-calling and bullying. 

It is also one of the most disputed sayings in our culture.  The acclaimed author Amy Matayo calls it “the first lie we learned in school.”  The popular preacher and writer Robert Fulghum says, “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will break your heart.”  One person notes, “words will make you think you deserved it.”  Another states “words can cripple a person for a lifetime.”  Several people protest we can heal from the bruises caused by sticks and stones, but words cannot be taken back.  The comedian Eric Idle quips, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will make me go in a corner and cry by myself for hours.”

Our words have power, capable both of tearing down and of lifting up.  This morning’s reading from the Gospel of Luke gives us a clear example of each.  It tells us when religious leaders notice who Jesus associates with, they “grumble”, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” ^{Luke 15:2}  Consider the impact of their word “sinners.”  It is a typical stereotype with the effect of creating a “Us and Them” mindset:  We are good and they are bad. 

Once this distinction takes hold it tends to encourage defamation, then demonization, and ultimately dehumanization – not just of a particular individual, but of an entire class of people based on political persuasion, nationality, ethnicity, lifestyle, or a whole host of other categories.  History shows us once a group in power deems another group is less than human, it is capable of inflicting inhumane treatment on them, up to and including genocide.  Luis Márquez succinctly states how this harsh reality works: “Words are dangerous.  Hitler didn’t gas a single Jew, but his words gassed millions.”

Don’t think for a second Jesus doesn’t pick up on the significance of the label “sinners”, he most certainly does.  We see it in the parable he tells in response to the grumblers.  Those who are tagged “sinners” by this group he calls “lost.”  And not just “lost”, but “lost sheep”.  And in so doing, Jesus completely reframes the way he wants people to see each other.  Where others dismiss with harsh and critical rhetoric, he embraces with a term of empathy and endearment.  It has the effect of encouraging everyone who hears the story to take at least a step closer to one another through a mutual acknowledgement of each other’s personhood and worth.  

When I began to meditate on this appointed reading earlier in the week, little did I know the theme I pondered and prayed over would become front and center in our national discussion.  The murder of Charlie Kirk has brought to the forefront how our country is being impacted by division and harsh demagoguery.  We are contemplating with greater urgency the connection between how we talk about each other and the rise of violence in our society.  Everyone is saying something must change. 

Sadly, much of what I have heard has been one group saying the other group is at fault and “They” are the ones who must change, not “Us”.  What I haven’t heard is real soul searching and personal contrition for hateful comments a person has made in the past or those made by members of one’s own tribe. 

If true repentance and amendment of our civic life is going to take root, it is going to have to begin at the grass roots with people like me and you.  Here are two things I am going to do at this level.  I am going to make an honest effort to listen to everyone, especially those whose opinions are different from mine.  And, in what I say and how I respond, I am going to focus on policy, not personalities.  We have to learn how to talk about politics without making it personal.  It is possible to disagree with a person’s stance on policy without speculating on their motivation or their character. 

We in Suffolk and here at St. Paul’s are fortunate to have John Rector on our City Council.  You can discuss local policy with him and even disagree, but without question he is a deeply honorable person whose integrity is known to us all.  I have engaged him several times about issues in our community and I have always come away as a better-informed citizen and feeling like I have been heard.  I can testify it is possible to discuss policy without making it personal.      

And we who profess to be followers of Jesus must be able to converse without stating another adherent’s views are unchristian.  We all in the faith are on a journey to discern God’s dream for all people and the only way we will make progress is if we learn how to love one another as Christ loves us.  The grumbling has got to stop.

A Spiritual Cost/Benefit Analysis

 

Luke 14:25-33

Proper 18 / Year C

Jesus turned and said to the large crowds following him, “None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” ^{– Luke 14:33}

Don’t get me wrong.  I am truly glad each of you is here this morning.  But I take your presence as a sign you didn’t win last night’s Powerball drawing.  I didn’t either.  In fact, I diminished my chances by 1/293 millionth when I didn’t even buy a ticket.  Never-the-less, it did not stop me from daydreaming in quieter moments about what I would do with all that money.  I would travel, for sure, and probably amass a sweet collection of antique cars.  But I mused most about all the good I could do to help others… family members, institutions I believe in (like Chanco), and the churches I have served.  And while my fantasies have something of an altruistic bent, I am still a far way off from falling in line with Jesus’ teaching we heard this morning.

Its context is important.  We are told “large crowds” are following Jesus.  He has been healing, fed the masses with a few fish and loaves, and he has been teaching.  He has invited everyone to be a disciple.  Jesus understands they don’t understand the benefits nor the cost of what he is offering.  So, as the throng is walking along, literally following Jesus, he stops and addresses those who have just recently joined him on his journey.  In essence he asks them, “Have you considered what it costs to follow me?”

It’s a good question for us to consider on this day when our parish asks us to make a commitment to the financial operations of our church.  And it’s a good question to ask while, over the course of this month, we are inviting you to commit to serving in one of our lay ministries.  What does it cost you to follow Christ?  What does it cost to be a part of St. Paul’s parish family? 

At the heart of who we are, we humans are transactional people.  In other words, we only give up something when we believe we will get something better in return.  Every purchase, every trade, every allotment of our time is an exchange of something we have for something we want.  Even my altruistic fantasies about divvying up lottery winnings is based in transaction – a belief I would feel better about helping others than I would by hoarding all I have.  So, along with “what does it cost?”, Jesus invites us to ask a second question about discipleship… “What is the benefit?”  What is the benefit of following Christ?  What is the benefit of being committed to St. Paul’s?

What does it cost follow Jesus?  He gives us a hint in today’s reading: “Whoever does not carry his/her cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” ^{– Luke 14:27}  “Pick up your cross and follow me” is one of Jesus’ teachings we hear so often it becomes easy to acknowledge it without ever really pondering what it means.  We tend to think of bearing a cross as tolerating a burden (a difficult family member or a physical disability perhaps).  But this isn’t what Jesus means in his teaching.

We might ask what those listening to Jesus thought he meant when he told them to pick up their cross.  I suspect they were perplexed.  They are aware the cross is an instrument of Roman execution.  Probably they know a condemned person is forced to carry his cross to the site of the execution.  But most likely they never thought of personally possessing a cross they could pick up and take with them.  It would be as obscure to them as if someone said to us, “Pick up your gas chamber and follow me.”

Perhaps we should ask what the Cross is for Jesus?  From what we read in the gospels, Jesus considers the Cross to be his destination in life.  It is his purpose, his aim, his goal.  His entire life is oriented toward it.  And his hope is fixed on what lies beyond it.  So, based on this understanding, when Jesus says to us “Pick up your cross and follow me”, he is saying our highest hopes, our deepest dreams, our most passionate pursuits, every ounce of energy we can muster, all we strive to do and have and be is to be fixed on him.  And yes, it is a huge price to pay.  If we take him seriously, it costs us everything.

But what are the benefits?  Well, if you are burdened with regret over things you have done and left undone, you will find forgiveness.  If you are anxious, you will gain peace.  If you are lost, you will be given purpose.  If you are empty, you will be filled with the Holy Spirit.  If you are hurting, you will be healed.  If you are dead inside, you will be born again.  If you are dying, you will be given life in the world to come.  You will gain communion with the Creator and Lord of all that is.  You will learn to live in accord with the way you are made to be.  You will discover your life, like every life, matters.

What does it cost you to be a part of our parish family?  Money.  Sleeping in on Sunday morning.  The time and effort required to volunteer and to get involved.  You will take on more people to care about.  You will have to put up with a few people who get on your nerves.  And, from time to time, you will have to tolerate something said from the pulpit which may make your blood boil or your eyelids heavy.  What are the benefits?  You will find inspiration in the beauty of this building, the music we hear and the hymns we sing, the cadence and poignant words of our liturgy, and the word of God made known through Scripture and proclamation.  You will be fed through the Lord’s Supper and in our times of fellowship.  You will be a part of a genuine community; a family gathered around shared convictions.  You will be loved and have a place where you can love both those here as well as those beyond our walls.  You will find meaning for your life and you will realize you are not alone.

So, will you take up your cross and follow Jesus?  Will you join us and travel through life with us as a fellow pilgrim on the way?            

Yes, Life is a Journey!

 

Luke 13:10-17

Proper 16 / Year C

A couple of things happened to me a few weeks ago which left me with a sense of awe and wonder about life’s journey – my life’s journey. 

When I was in Ashville to officiate at a wedding, a woman about my age introduced herself to me at the reception.  She told me her 93-year-old mother is an Episcopal priest.  Over the course of our conversation, we learned we had several other connections:

·    She lives in Norfolk.  I live in Suffolk. 

·    We are both Episcopalians.

·    We each have a deep love for Chanco.  Her children went to camp there.  I am on the board.

·    She has known one of our board members since this young woman was an infant.

While coincidental, none of this is beyond believability and certainly is not “sermon worthy.”  It only became a “wow” moment when, out of the blue, she asked where I grew up:

·    I grew up in Akron.  Her family lived there until she was in 2^nd grade.

·    We attended neighboring Elementary Schools.

·    Neither of our families were Episcopalians at the time.

·    Both were Presbyterians.

·    As children, we attended the same church.

·    We had several shared memories of ministers and events, especially picking up buckeyes from the two huge trees in the church yard.

·    My family drove past her house most every Sunday.

·    As near as we could tell we were one grade apart in Sunday School.

·    Neither of us recalled ever knowing the other at the time and only met when our paths crossed again some fifty years later at a wedding in Ashville, NC. 

What are the chances?

This came on the heels of another head-scratcher.  A college friend shared with me a podcast link, messaging to me “You will want to watch this.”  It was an interview from a show on a Catholic broadcasting network. 

Some background.  When I was in college I worked in a Christian evangelical high school ministry called Young Life.  Some of you may have heard of it.  Keith and Tami were freshmen in high school my senior year in college.  They began to attend our meetings and were very devout in their faith.  They went on to attend my college and got married as students, but lost touch with them after that.

Now, years later, here they were as adults being interviewed on a cable TV program.  Somewhere along the way they converted to Catholicism and over the years, I learned Keith has been active in youth ministry and served as the head master of a private school.  Tami has been a homemaker kept busy by raising 10 children.

Early in the interview the host asked them to share their faith story.  They talked about their teenage years and I knew and recognized several people who played key parts in it.  And then, (again) out for the blue, Keith dropped my name… “And Keith Emerson was a big part of that” – like everyone watching would know who I am as if I was as famous as Billy Graham or Elvis. 

They went on to discuss what brought them to Catholicism.  Some of their story mirrored my own journey to Anglicanism (the sacraments, the liturgy, the historical link to the early church) and there were hints as to why our journeys led us on different paths (given they have 10 children, you might guess the Roman Church’s view on birth control is more in line with theirs than the Episcopal Church’s).  It was humbling after all these years to learn I had made a small impact on two people’s lives.

These stories came back to me when I first read and pondered this morning’s gospel reading.  What links them is how each of our pursuit of God is a journey.  While for some it is a straight line, for many of us it takes unexpected twists and turns.  I am confident the bent-over woman came to the synagogue service never imaging how it would change her life.  Jesus has a way of touching each of us in a unique way and setting us on an individual path (as they used to say on The Dating Game) “chosen just for you.” 

Sometimes the path Jesus sets you on intersects with another’s for a lifetime.  Other times it may be only for a short while.  And yet each person we encounter on the way has the potential to touch our lives in a way which molds us into who we are and who we are becoming.  And, at the same time, we have the potential to touch the lives of others, affecting them in ways we may never know.  This why it is so critically important you live every day and every moment with Jesus in your heart; having him flavor everything you say and do.  There simply is no telling what will come of it.

There is another character in the gospel story which we need to acknowledge… the Pharisee… the Critic… the voice which always seems to be there to hold you back every time you are called to set off in a new direction.  I am sure Keith and Tami heard from more than one person who was unhappy when they converted to Catholicism.  I know I heard from detractors at the evangelical seminary I was attending when I let it be known I was going to transfer to an Episcopal school.  One person pointedly said to me, “I don’t think you have prayed about this enough.”  I wondered to myself why he thought he knew about my prayer life.  Another said, “What they teach you will cause you to lose your faith.”  Forty years later I think my faith is going to survive.

I see a little bit of myself in each of the three main characters in today’s story.  Like Jesus, apparently, I am touching lives and making a difference.  Like the woman, I find my life taking unexpected and enriching turns.  And like the religious leader, I have been critical of some whose journeys moved in directions I don’t think they should; especially when they drift into the demographic category of spiritual, but not religious, which is a euphemism for “I grew up in a church, but don’t attend any more.”  As you reflect on your life, I suspect you can see yourself in each of these characters as well. 

Thanks be to God our journey is not cemented in place.  You never know what Jesus has in store for you.  You never know what might happen down the road… or even today… even during this morning’s service. 

Mishpat & Tsedaqua

 

Isaiah 5:1-7

Psalm 80:1-2, 8-18

Let me sing for my beloved
my love-song concerning his vineyard ^{(Isaiah 5:1)}

Did you know there are more than 11,000 wineries in the United States?  Virginia alone has 278, not counting cideries and meaderies.  For anyone who has visited a winery on a crisp autumn day, sitting outside in the sunshine enjoying a glass of wine and conversation with good friends and thought, “Of, I would love to have a place like this of my own,” the journalist Wes Hagen cautions, “The decision to start a vineyard is a serious one, requiring study, planning, financial resources, dedication and a willingness to get muddy and sulfur-soaked.”

He might also recommend a careful reading of this morning’s first lesson.  Isaiah “sings” a “love song” about his beloved’s vineyard.  In a few brief verses it details the work which went in to creating it, but the wise will read between the lines and realize it is a very demanding project.  In spite of selecting a good location with rich soil, clearing stones, erecting trellises, investing capital in the means into of production, and planting top-quality vines, it all was for not.  The grapes it produced were sour.

Isaiah asks his listeners to ponder what more the owner could have done… nothing… and what he will do after the horrific harvest… tear it all down.  Then he reveals his love song, whether rooted or not in an actual vineyard, is a parable.  The vineyard represents God’s people and the sour grapes stand for the society they have created.  What begins as a love song turns out to be a lament.

The specific complaint levied by Isaiah is a bit of a wordplay in the Hebrew.  The Lord expects from the people mishpat (justice) but finds mispat (bloodshed) and tsedaqua (righteousness) but hears tseaqua (a cry).

When thinking of justice, it is easy to focus on its punitive meaning, like when Superman brings a criminal to justice.  But in the Old Testament mishpat had less to do with making sure lawbreakers get the punishment they deserve than it does with upholding a person’s legal and social entitlements.  In fact, 86% of all the bible’s references to “justice” has more to do with caring for the needy than prosecuting the wicked.

We tend to limit righteousness to individual morality, but the Hebrew understanding is more nuanced, referring to the fulfilment of one person’s obligations to another (something more akin to our expression “doing right” by a person).  It is concerned with being honorable in one’s dealings. 

While we associate the phrase “sour grapes” with poor losers, the bible uses it to describe society’s actions which do not mirror God’s standards.

The biblical concern for justice and righteousness is woven into the Law as God reveals it to Moses.  It is extolled as a virtue in the Wisdom Literature, such as the Book of Proverbs.  And it is used as a societal measuring stick in the Prophetic Writings such as Isaiah’s.  It is most concerned with the way foreigners, prisoners, widows, orphans, and the poor are treated because they are the most vulnerable people in the society and because God takes up the role of being their defender ^{(see Psalm 68:5-6)}.   

The justice God wants to be manifested by the people has at least these four components:

· Personal Generosity ^{(see Proverbs 19:17)}

· Legal Fairness ^{(see Exodus 23:6)}

· Advocacy – arguing for and defending the cause of the needy ^{(see Proverbs 31:8-9)}

· Compassion – basic human kindness ^{(see Isaiah 1:17)}

According to Isaiah, the people of Israel are not acting justly on account of their court rulings, lending practices, exploitation of labor, enacted legislation, the influence of bribes, and a diminished commitment to a social safety net for the poor.  He criticizes the following people in a series of woes:  

· Those who build “house to house” and join “field to field”

· Those who live a lifestyle of revelry

· Those who are deceitful and wicked

· Those who call evil good and good evil

· Those who think they are clever and wise

What is the end result?  The Kingdom falls.  If you look closely you will see our first two readings offer differing interpretations as to why this happens.  Isaiah states unequivocally it comes about as an act of God’s judgment.  The psalmist does not assign blame as he pleads for God to intervene, suggesting perhaps a corrupt culture rots from the inside, thus creating its own demise.  Either way, a theologically bankrupt society will not thrive in the long run; a sour people will not know enduring success.

Isaiah’s words have huge implications for us as we live into the American experiment.  It is not my intent this morning to be political.  I only want to preach what the bible says and to be faithful to the readings assigned by the Lectionary.  Do our elected officials, captains of industry, educators, those who influence public opinion through what they say and write, and spiritual guides guide us toward mishpat and tsedequa or do they do they turn us into sour wine?  You will have to determine this on your own. 

And you will have to assess what it means for you to be generous and fair.  You will have to think strategically about how you will advocate for biblical positions as you understand them.  You will have to be moved with compassion and act with kindness. 

Perhaps all of this makes you uncomfortable.  Well, that is what the prophets of old always do.  They challenge our conventions and call us to reflect.  Are we good enough?  Could we be better?  Are we missing the mark God sets for us?  Are we corrupt to the core?  Do we need to repent and amend our ways, personally and collectively? 

One thing we can all do is join in the psalmist’s prayer and profession of faith:

Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; *

  show the light of your countenance,

and we shall be saved. ^{(Psalm 80:18)}

Spare the Bull & Offer Your Behavior

 

Isaiah 1:10-20

Psalm 50:1-8, 23-24

Proper 14 / Year C

If he were here with us this morning, I am confident Ed Campbell would not be happy.  Ed, my clergy mentor when I was in seminary, loved the 50^th psalm, portions of which we read just moments ago.  Why would he be unhappy?  Well, it appears a revision to the Lectionary now omits his favorite verse.  After laying out the case for why God rejects the animal sacrifices of the people, the psalmist records these words from God, which are no longer included in the assigned reading:

I will take no bull-calf from your stalls,

  nor he goats from your pens. ^{(Psalm 50:9)}

Ed’ translation was somewhat freer: “I will take no bull from you or your house.”

Coalescing over the centuries, today’s readings from Isaiah and Psalm 50 are a part of a devastating biblical critique of the sacrificial system.  Perhaps the capstone of this writing is found in the 51^st Psalm:

Had you desired it, I would have offered sacrifice,

  but you take no delight in burnt offerings.

The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit;

  a broken and contrite heart, O God,

  you will not despise. ^(51:17-18)

Prophets and sages come to realize God wants something more from the faithful than rituals and blood offerings.  Here is what Isaiah says is required:

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes;

  cease to do evil,
learn to do good;

seek justice,
rescue the oppressed,

defend the orphan,
plead for the widow. ^(1:16-17)

For us here this morning, this is hardly a radical idea because long ago God’s people came to understand how we treat one another is more important to God than the rituals we perform.  What would it say about our parish if, for example, we held the most splendid service on Christmas Eve, but failed week in and week out to welcome the stranger in our midst?

All of this has me pondering a Latin phrase: ecclesia reformata semper reformanda est – “A Reformed church is ever reforming” – a phrase coming out of the Reformation which has picked up steam over the last hundred years or so as the Church has grappled to understand God’s dream for all people. 

The history of the Judeo-Christian scriptures tells a story of on-going divine revelation and discernment:

·     Abraham’s belief in monotheism

·     Moses distribution of the commandments

·     The Prophetic critique of institutional religion

·     Jesus’ teachings and actions

·    The early Church breaking down the walls separating Jews and Gentiles.

Why is on-going reformation necessary?  Here are three primary reasons.

First, we are sinful people who are prone to do everything from wandering down the wrong path to willful disobedience.  Where the Church is corrupt it must be purified.  In a teen inquirers’ session this past week we asked our young learners what is required to have your sins forgiven.  Their answer: confess to God and say you are sorry.  They were surprised to learn in the Middle Ages you had to pay the Church in order to be forgiven.  Corruption.

Here is another reason the Church must always be reforming: the times and the culture changes.  In another session we touched on the tremendous revolution the invention of the printing press brought to society.  It led to a growing desire to be able to read the bible on one’s own.  It gave rise to worship in the language of the people, rather than a tongue only a few educated elites could understand.  Change.

The final reason is perhaps the most important: we are not a perfect people.  Our understanding is limited, yet we possess the potential for discovery and growth.  Jesus points to this when, at the Last Supper, he says to his disciples, “I have many things still to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” ^{(John 16:12)}. 

Paul writes this:

Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.  All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.  ^{(I Cor. 13:12)}

I liken this to a time when I arrived at a campsite after dark and struggled by flashlight to set up a tent and other equipment.  I could see little of my surroundings.  Dawn brought with it a heavy fog.  I could barely see for the first time a stream twenty feet from where I pitched my tent.  As the fog lifted, I could see treetops, then ridges, and finally, once the fog burned off, mountains in the distance.  All of this was there all along, I just couldn’t see it at the time.  Over the course of the morning, as the skies cleared, so too did my awareness of my location.

To be a follower of Christ is to be a person of deep conviction who is courageous enough to question what you hold true and dear.  It is to pray, as we did with today’s Collect, for a “spirit to think and do always those things that are right, that we… may by [God] be enabled to live according to [God’s] will.”  It is to recognize that when it comes to understanding God’s generosity, love, and mercy, we are shrouded in fog, but the fog is lifting and as new understanding comes into clarity we reform our views and our ways to reflect what we now know of the Holy One.

This on-going reformation of God’s dream makes many uncomfortable.  Some of us are distressed because we equate change with being unfaithful to the faith handed down to us.  Others are impatient because we are slow to adopt what they have come to understand God’s will to be.  Today I want to remind you of what the psalmist learned long ago: When you come before God spare the bull and offer you behavior.

Pondering Contentment

 

Luke 12:13-21

Proper 13 / Year C

“I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones.” ^{(Luke 12:18)} 

This past week while standing in line at the bank waiting to deposit my paycheck, I began to reflect.  Everywhere I have served I have been paid at the end of the month.  After some mental gymnastics I reckoned this was the 457^th time I have done this since I was first ordained in 1987.  Those early checks were not very large, but enough to get by.  Some folks might look at the check in my hand and think it paltry, others might regard it princely.  I don’t know what the average of each one has been, but (there in line) I estimated over the years I have received a total compensation of at least $2.8 million dollars (which doesn’t even include benefits like health care and pension). 

Now, some elite athletes earn this amount for playing in a single game.  Some a-list actors earn this per minute of film they star in.  Elon Musk, the world’s richest man, will add this amount to his wealth during the time from the beginning of our service through the end of our coffee hour. 

None of this withstanding, as I stood in line at the bank, I realized I am grateful for at least three things.  First, I am able to stand in a bank line with something in my hand to deposit.  Next, the generosity of each of you and all those over the years who have voluntarily contributed to your church so that, in part, I can be paid to do what I do.  And finally, I have something the person in today’s parable does not: contentment. 

Contentment is an interesting word.  It is derived from a Latin word originally used to describe things like cups, buckets, and barrels – containers.  In Latin it means “held together,” “intact,” or “whole.”  As an image it suggests contentment is the ability to maintain what one has, be it a lot or a precious little.  Discontentment, its opposite, conjures up the image of a cracked vessel which continually requires refilling because it is unable contain what it has.  Even when full, it soon will be lacking.  It always, always, always needs more.

We humans have what appears to be a unique ability among God’s creatures.  We can look at our current situation and recognize it is not ideal.  This can be incredibly motivating when it comes to confronting injustice or seeking a cure for cancer.  It can be incredibly vexing while leafing through Architectural Digest, Bon Appetite, or Travel & Leisure (magazines I apparently agreed to receive by not checking off a tiny decline box when I ordered something online).  Apparently, my home, my meals, and my vacations are less than ideal.

Social theorists describe two personality types: sufficers and maximizers.  What is the difference?  Well, suppose you have a sowing project and you learn the absolute best needle for it is hidden in a haystack.  The bad news is it will be incredibly difficult to find.  The good news is the haystack has over a thousand other needles in it, many of which will be adequate for your task.  The sufficer will look only until she finds a needle which is sufficient for the job.  The maximizer, on the other hand, will continue searching until he finds the one which is optimal.  Which type do you think struggles more to be content?

Here are a couple of insights the bible offers on the contentment.  First, it is an incredibly important state to achieve in this life if you want to experience here and now the best God has in store for you.  We are told heaven is a place ever-lasting bliss; what we might call eternal contentment.  Conversely, hell is a place of never-ending dissatisfaction – eternal discontentment.  So, if you want to know joy and peace in this life, you must be content with your lot in life.

While we tend to associate of the phrase lot in life with enduring something negative you cannot change.  Its origin, which comes from the Old Testament, suggests something different.  When God’s people begin to settle into the Promised land, each person receives a specific piece of land to inhabit.  The allotment is administered through a system akin to drawing straws (or lots), but all held it was not merely a matter of blind luck, but rather a divine apportionment and what you received was referred to as a lot which was passed down from generation to generation (see Joshua 14-21).

The psalmist writes this:  

Lord, you are my portion and my cup.

It is you who upholds my lot.

My boundaries enclose a pleasant land.

Indeed, I have a goodly heritage. ^{(Psalm 16:5-6)}

“Who is rich?” one rabbi from long ago asks.  “Those who are happy with their portion.”  For ancient Hebrews, lasting joy was rooted in contentment with one’s literal lot in life.   

This is one biblical insight.  Here is another.  Achieving contentment seems to be well within our ability.  It is a decision we can make, a state of mind we can embrace.  We know this because John the Baptist counsels Roman soldiers not to extort wealth from the vulnerable and to be content with their wages. ^{(Luke 3:14)}  Paul writes he has learned to be content no matter what his circumstances, be it in want or plenty, well feed or hungry.  The secret, he says, is “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” ^{(Phil. 4:11-13)}  While Paul says he has “learned” this – age and experience have a way of helping us to become sufficers – opening your heart to Jesus and his teachings is immensely helpful.

When pondering contentment, the English philosopher Bernard Williams keenly noted “We may pass violets looking for roses.”  He linked contentment with the ability to savor; appreciating the moment and delighting in what one has rather than lamenting what one lacks.  I am grateful that while standing in line waiting to deposit a check, I was able to ponder the violets.  They are, after all, just like the roses, gifts from God.  My prayer is you will find joy in the violets the Lord has given you.   

Teach Us How to Pray

 

Luke 11:1-13

Proper 12 / Year C

We had a wonderful time a week ago meeting each night with seven of our young people who wanted to explore the Christian faith and the way the Episcopal Church lives into.  I am looking forward to a week from today when we will repeat this experience with a whole new group of our teenagers.

At one session last week, during a discussion on prayer, one of our young people asked this question: “Is it OK for me to pray for a million dollars?”  It is a legitimate question that left Suzanne Baur (who taught the class) and me stammering for an answer.  It dovetails well with today’s reading from Luke recording that Jesus’ followers asked him to teach them how to pray.  Prayer is so very necessary, but not necessarily self-apparent with regard to how to do it. 

Most of us here are drawn to the Episcopal Church’s worship because our public prayers have stood the test of time.  While we personally may struggle to find the words to pray and are not always sure what we should ask for and what we shouldn’t, we find the Book of Common Prayer points us in the right direction. 

While our printed prayers have a way of shaping our minds and hearts so that we begin to understand what to ask for from God and how to ask for it, we still long to learn ways to pray which emerge from the depths of our being to articulate what we are experiencing and what we need.

Allow me to share with you three simple patterns for prayer offered by three different people. 

The first comes from Jodi Rudoren, a newspaper editor who wrote about prayer in a piece which first appeared in the New York Times.  After her father passed away, Jodi set out to pray the Kaddish, a ritual used for eleven months during a period of mourning.  While she found it meaningful, she felt like she was doing a chore rather than engaging in prayer.  Her rabbi encouraged her to take what he called “soul walks” which focused prayer around three simple words:  Wow!  Please.  Thank you.

Wow – What stirs wonder in you today?  A sunset?  A delicate piece of music?  A bird in flight? 

Please – What do you need right now?  Patience?  Strength?  Guidance?

Thank You – What are you grateful for?  A meal?  A kind word?  A good laugh?

So, one pattern of prayer involves paying attention to beauty and grandeur – Wow!  It includes naming what you need – Please.  And it remembers what you already have – Thank you.  Jodi found this practice moved prayer from a thing which she did in her head to something which poured forth from her heart.

Anne Lamott, an author known for writing about her addiction prior to her conversion to Christianity, has her own three words essential to all prayers: Help.  Thanks.  Wow.  Stronger than Please, Help, she says, is the hardest prayer because you have to surrender and admit defeat.  Thanks is a prayer of relief when help is on the way.  Wow is a prayer of praise for when you are speechless for all God has done for you.

Simon Camilleri describes himself as being a Presbyterian husband and father from Australia who is, among other things, a graphic designer, a funeral parlor employee, a Biblical Storyteller, a singer, a writer of comic poetry, a magician, and a juggler who invents board games.  He also blogs at a site called “Simon Says.”  Given all of this, if he has anything to say about prayer, we might want to listen.  Well, he does.  In addition to Wow, Thank you, and Please, Simon adds Sorry.

So, if you are looking to expand or to simplify your approach to your prayer life, these suggestions may be of some help: Wow, Sorry, Please/Help, and Thank you.  Thank you for being here this morning.  Please join me next Sunday.  Wow, I can’t wait until we are all together again.

Keith+