I am blessed to know a lot of chaplains and religious leaders from many faiths and backgrounds. While we share and grow through the diversity of our experiences, the true gift is the camaraderie we have in a particular shared experience. We each want so deeply for the people we encounter to grow more deeply in their faith.
To grow in faith sounds simple enough on the surface but in reality most of us feel like Paul in his cry from Romans 7, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” The truth is that all of us struggle to grow in faith in some way. It might be the adhering to spiritual practices or it could be the living out justice filled beliefs. Regardless of the particulars, faith is always marked by some sort of strife.
Next come the behaviors we use to cover our pain and sorrow. That too is varied in its expression. For some, they hide the pain by delving into false piety and “holier than thou” behaviors. Others of us take on the experience as a personal failing resulting in self-loathing. Still others work very hard to desensitize themselves and live in the proverbial bliss of ignorance.
We religious leaders bump up against these behaviors that are symptomatic of faith struggles both personally and professionally. Whether it’s congregational life, hospitals, or park benches the sore spots of our faith struggles are out there to be rubbed and made even more raw.
This is where that shared experience of clergy comes back. Our desire for people to grow either becomes a healing balm or an irritating liniment to those sore spots that reveal the faith struggle. When we are blessed to witness healing, it is a deeply meaningful experience as a person of faith. However, when that healing doesn’t occur it can be painful, frustrating, and even consuming when our own faith struggles take this experience personally.
I feel such deep sorrow when I watch other clergy become so wounded and discouraged with the strife they experience and the perceived lack of growth in their flock that it becomes a barrier to their own faith and participation in creation. All this leads me to what I see as the true miracle. To me, the true miracle is that in spite of humanity’s bent toward violence, destruction, and fearfulness healing continues to occur and the lives are transformed.
When we look throughout history, it’s remarkable that faith persists at all. The perception of “end days” violence today holds nothing against the atrocities against people, races, and nations throughout history. I personally might have lost faith in God if I had been part of the one million plus Armenians slaughtered in the early 1900’s or witnessed the inquisitions of the 12th and 13th century. Moreover, these are not isolated incidents. The pain and suffering of humanity when we look at the lives of everyday people has been and continues to be on a scale that most privileged people in the United States cannot begin to imagine. And yet, faith persists. The violence we wrought on one another cannot seem to squash the meaningful ways faith keeps us going despite all that we face.
We, as clergy, keep looking for people of faith to become something wholly different and completely transformed. I personally even preach about transformation in a way that unfortunately misleads people into thinking that they are chasing after a destination rather than an ongoing process that will be ever challenged and ever changing. But the reality of history and our daily lives is that of a process. We take steps forward that are met with a new challenge that could push us back.
Therefore, when we see people that work to stay bind to the injustice of the world or persons in the hospital who act “tougher than cancer,” we are seeing defense mechanisms that have been heaped on after experiencing so much disappointment and pain. Deep down they want to live a life of faithfulness that matches an unrealistic ideal. Deep down, that ideal crushes. But again, instead of completely running away, humanity finds a way to maintain some level of faith in spite of the struggles.
Truly I can’t tell you how many people I know that are completely unable to forgive themselves for their struggles in faith yet act content in their faith on the outside. Sadly, the notion of a loving and forgiving God is not near as difficult to grasp as the concept of forgiving ourselves. And still, we persist in faith.
The call of faith is tough and the notion of celebrating the journey is rarely upheld or practiced. We place too much emphasis on the destination or expect people to be at a point on their journey that is unrealistic given their experiences and level of faith. Yet, I suspect that reorienting ourselves to celebrating even the little milestones is what we need if we are to heal the sore spots that become barriers to healing. That healing likely won’t bring about a radical transformation in the church, but it is part of the ongoing work that counteracts the sorrow, fear, and destruction of the world. May we all be instruments of healing and peace that represent the true miracle of creation.
Showing posts with label miracle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miracle. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Who Is This?
Palm Sunday - Who Is This? <–- Audio file of sermon
A sermon based upon Matthew 21:1-11
Good morning and welcome! Holy week is here! We’re emerging from the desert wilderness to see the gifts of Lent come into fullness. And today’s scripture passage brings us into the thick of holy week.
Here we have Jesus about to enter Jerusalem for one of the most holy Jewish holidays, Passover. The story shows him as a calm and centered person but there’s a whole lot of frenzy going on around him. I mean picture the whole scene. Jesus has been teaching, preaching, and building up communities of faith all around Galilee, The Decapolis, Samaria, and Judea. He’s become this well-known traveling minister with a band of faithful friends and followers. They go places, share meals, fellowship, teach, heal, share… and people have responded. Wherever Jesus and his disciples go, people greet him now with recognition and adulation. There’s almost a sort of rock star status. And when a rock star comes to town, there are those who know the star and those who want to know. So, this triumphant passage ends with those who want to know “who is this?”
And I think that’s a great place to start here on Palm Sunday. Who is this? So, let’s take a few minutes to look back at this life that we celebrated coming into being at Christmas and soon will mourn on Good Friday. Who is this? Who is this that could cause such a stir and be treated like near royalty even though he seems to want to humble himself before humanity? Who is this that would make people drop everything and follow him?
Well, his name is Jesus. He was born in a very humble way. His family wasn’t homeless but they were between places without much means. And there were probably a lot of rumors going around about his family. Mary, his mother claimed the baby was God’s since she wasn’t married and Joseph, her soon husband stood at her side. Even in the most religious of families and communities, this is a story that would raise doubt.
But they went on anyway. And for those who did listen to God, Jesus’ birth was a cause for celebration. Also, I suspect that for a child raised by such parents, their model of faithfulness to God was a remarkable example for Jesus and their other children. But there were those for whom Jesus’ birth was a cause for fear. You see, even from birth, people in power, political power, feared Jesus. But others loved him.
By all accounts, Jesus was a very likable child, well-schooled in the Jewish faith and a great lover of God. Once when he went missing, his family found him studying in the temple with great learned people. We don’t know much about his youth and early adulthood but we can tell from the types of people mentioned that he was close to his brother James and his cousin John the Baptist. It seems that over and over whenever something big was happening, his loved ones were nearby and I think that says a lot about him. Having our loved ones near in our big moments always makes the occasion richer.
But this man was more than a well-liked guy in his community. As we talked about back on Ash Wednesday, we don’t know why Jesus decided to leave everything to start a ministry at age 30. In his time, that would have been well into midlife. But he did and that’s where we really start learning a lot about this man and what’s important to him… and important to God.
This is someone who ate meals and spent truly meaningful time with everyone from crooked politicians to widows without means. He reached out to the most oppressed of the oppressed. And he taught about how we should truly care about what happens to the people without someone to care for them… that we should be those people.
Jesus healed the sick and even resurrected the dead. He spoke of God’s love and of a world where God’s reign was clear. He challenged the status quo in the temple and on the streets. Jesus was pro-peace, pro-care for the oppressed, pro-justice, and pro-God. He proclaimed God as the only true ruler in the face of those who claimed Caesar as the only ruler of the world. He was an all-around rebel in many ways but people didn’t avoid him like a trouble maker. No… they flocked to him.
He reached out to people and struck at the heart of what they needed. A woman at the well who was shunned by her community was shown a way to healing and wholeness. A man overtaken by demons and mental anguish was released from his bondage and sent to share the good news. A group of children came to see this man named Jesus and he welcomed them unlike any adult had ever welcomed children before. A man seeking the kingdom of God was told how to get there if only he would let go of his earthly treasures.
Over and over again, Jesus shared a message of God’s love, love found in caring for one another, and the power of joining together as a people. He was secretive about proclaiming himself the son of God because he wanted the message of God to be clearer than the message of a man.
But he was actually more than a man. And those who watched closely knew it. He was Emmanuel, God with us. And as he continued to share and teach, God’s love shined so brightly through him that he really couldn’t hide it anymore.
That’s where we find ourselves in the Palm Sunday gospel passage. This is not a rock star of fleeting fame. This is God incarnate come to show us what we needed and to offer us a glimpse of a love so full that it transformed life after life after life.
You know, no matter how literally or symbolically we take the bible. No matter how we describe what is important about Jesus. No matter if we focus more on his death or his resurrection or his miracles or his birth… there is something remarkable and amazing about someone who can teach us something wonderful at every stage of his life.
And we’re talking about a full and abundant life here. One so full of purpose, guidance, meaning, and love that people knew it. They wanted to get close. They wanted to treat him with respect. They threw down their cloaks for him. They paved a way with palms. They heralded his presence to those ahead. And they took in everything he did and said.
You see, when we meet someone with infectious love, love so abundant that it streams from them, we just want to be a part of it. We want that glow that seems to come from inside of them for ourselves too. We try to get close and mimic or absorb some of this amazing goodness. It’s not empty adulation. We want it too.
And that’s what’s going on here. People are not just flocking because Jesus is famous. No, when I close my eyes and try to envision this scene, I see Jesus focused and calm and absolutely beaming with the love of God. I think I might have done anything to get close to him. I’d have thrown down my cloak or given up my donkey and cloak. I’d have done anything to get close to that kind of love.
Who is this? This is truly God with us, pouring out love and healing… and we’re on holy ground.
So, why did I just go through a retrospective on Jesus’ life? Well, we’re here at Holy Week. This week all that he said, all those lives transformed, all that love cultivated will fade into the background. We’ll hang onto it through most of Maundy Thursday but then we’ll get caught up in a betrayal and arrest. Then on Good Friday, we’ll be horrified by the atrocities humans can inflict on one another, even upon God. And by Easter Sunday, we’ll be in unspeakable awe at our resurrected Lord and completely caught up in all the glory.
And all that is appropriate but here we are right now gazing upon a man who if you ask me, has a life that is in some ways more miraculous than his death and resurrection. We have in Jesus the total package of a model and mentor, healer and transformer, a bearer of salvation in more ways than one. His birth and his death are always marked as miraculous but his life was nothing short of amazing.
So, when we gaze upon this man today, I find myself asking what our lives would look like if we dared break down our walls of fear. What would our lives both individually and as a church look like if we focused on releasing ourselves and others from the bondage of greed, shame, and sorrow? If we cared more about tending to the poor and the oppressed than keeping up with the Jones, what harvest would we reap? If we sought to cultivate love in our hearts and in others with the passion of Christ, what would the world look like?
Sisters and brothers, we are walking toward the horror of Good Friday and the glory of Easter but for now, we are gazing upon a remarkable life. It’s a life of calling and fullness and it’s a life that doesn’t end just because we get to Easter. Our calling is to live as the body of Christ. It’s a calling for us here and now and always.
As we seek to know what this life means for us, I leave us with the words of St. Teresa of Avila:
Christ has no body but yours,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
AMEN
A sermon based upon Matthew 21:1-11
Good morning and welcome! Holy week is here! We’re emerging from the desert wilderness to see the gifts of Lent come into fullness. And today’s scripture passage brings us into the thick of holy week.
Here we have Jesus about to enter Jerusalem for one of the most holy Jewish holidays, Passover. The story shows him as a calm and centered person but there’s a whole lot of frenzy going on around him. I mean picture the whole scene. Jesus has been teaching, preaching, and building up communities of faith all around Galilee, The Decapolis, Samaria, and Judea. He’s become this well-known traveling minister with a band of faithful friends and followers. They go places, share meals, fellowship, teach, heal, share… and people have responded. Wherever Jesus and his disciples go, people greet him now with recognition and adulation. There’s almost a sort of rock star status. And when a rock star comes to town, there are those who know the star and those who want to know. So, this triumphant passage ends with those who want to know “who is this?”
And I think that’s a great place to start here on Palm Sunday. Who is this? So, let’s take a few minutes to look back at this life that we celebrated coming into being at Christmas and soon will mourn on Good Friday. Who is this? Who is this that could cause such a stir and be treated like near royalty even though he seems to want to humble himself before humanity? Who is this that would make people drop everything and follow him?
Well, his name is Jesus. He was born in a very humble way. His family wasn’t homeless but they were between places without much means. And there were probably a lot of rumors going around about his family. Mary, his mother claimed the baby was God’s since she wasn’t married and Joseph, her soon husband stood at her side. Even in the most religious of families and communities, this is a story that would raise doubt.
But they went on anyway. And for those who did listen to God, Jesus’ birth was a cause for celebration. Also, I suspect that for a child raised by such parents, their model of faithfulness to God was a remarkable example for Jesus and their other children. But there were those for whom Jesus’ birth was a cause for fear. You see, even from birth, people in power, political power, feared Jesus. But others loved him.
By all accounts, Jesus was a very likable child, well-schooled in the Jewish faith and a great lover of God. Once when he went missing, his family found him studying in the temple with great learned people. We don’t know much about his youth and early adulthood but we can tell from the types of people mentioned that he was close to his brother James and his cousin John the Baptist. It seems that over and over whenever something big was happening, his loved ones were nearby and I think that says a lot about him. Having our loved ones near in our big moments always makes the occasion richer.
But this man was more than a well-liked guy in his community. As we talked about back on Ash Wednesday, we don’t know why Jesus decided to leave everything to start a ministry at age 30. In his time, that would have been well into midlife. But he did and that’s where we really start learning a lot about this man and what’s important to him… and important to God.
This is someone who ate meals and spent truly meaningful time with everyone from crooked politicians to widows without means. He reached out to the most oppressed of the oppressed. And he taught about how we should truly care about what happens to the people without someone to care for them… that we should be those people.
Jesus healed the sick and even resurrected the dead. He spoke of God’s love and of a world where God’s reign was clear. He challenged the status quo in the temple and on the streets. Jesus was pro-peace, pro-care for the oppressed, pro-justice, and pro-God. He proclaimed God as the only true ruler in the face of those who claimed Caesar as the only ruler of the world. He was an all-around rebel in many ways but people didn’t avoid him like a trouble maker. No… they flocked to him.
He reached out to people and struck at the heart of what they needed. A woman at the well who was shunned by her community was shown a way to healing and wholeness. A man overtaken by demons and mental anguish was released from his bondage and sent to share the good news. A group of children came to see this man named Jesus and he welcomed them unlike any adult had ever welcomed children before. A man seeking the kingdom of God was told how to get there if only he would let go of his earthly treasures.
Over and over again, Jesus shared a message of God’s love, love found in caring for one another, and the power of joining together as a people. He was secretive about proclaiming himself the son of God because he wanted the message of God to be clearer than the message of a man.
But he was actually more than a man. And those who watched closely knew it. He was Emmanuel, God with us. And as he continued to share and teach, God’s love shined so brightly through him that he really couldn’t hide it anymore.
That’s where we find ourselves in the Palm Sunday gospel passage. This is not a rock star of fleeting fame. This is God incarnate come to show us what we needed and to offer us a glimpse of a love so full that it transformed life after life after life.
You know, no matter how literally or symbolically we take the bible. No matter how we describe what is important about Jesus. No matter if we focus more on his death or his resurrection or his miracles or his birth… there is something remarkable and amazing about someone who can teach us something wonderful at every stage of his life.
And we’re talking about a full and abundant life here. One so full of purpose, guidance, meaning, and love that people knew it. They wanted to get close. They wanted to treat him with respect. They threw down their cloaks for him. They paved a way with palms. They heralded his presence to those ahead. And they took in everything he did and said.
You see, when we meet someone with infectious love, love so abundant that it streams from them, we just want to be a part of it. We want that glow that seems to come from inside of them for ourselves too. We try to get close and mimic or absorb some of this amazing goodness. It’s not empty adulation. We want it too.
And that’s what’s going on here. People are not just flocking because Jesus is famous. No, when I close my eyes and try to envision this scene, I see Jesus focused and calm and absolutely beaming with the love of God. I think I might have done anything to get close to him. I’d have thrown down my cloak or given up my donkey and cloak. I’d have done anything to get close to that kind of love.
Who is this? This is truly God with us, pouring out love and healing… and we’re on holy ground.
So, why did I just go through a retrospective on Jesus’ life? Well, we’re here at Holy Week. This week all that he said, all those lives transformed, all that love cultivated will fade into the background. We’ll hang onto it through most of Maundy Thursday but then we’ll get caught up in a betrayal and arrest. Then on Good Friday, we’ll be horrified by the atrocities humans can inflict on one another, even upon God. And by Easter Sunday, we’ll be in unspeakable awe at our resurrected Lord and completely caught up in all the glory.
And all that is appropriate but here we are right now gazing upon a man who if you ask me, has a life that is in some ways more miraculous than his death and resurrection. We have in Jesus the total package of a model and mentor, healer and transformer, a bearer of salvation in more ways than one. His birth and his death are always marked as miraculous but his life was nothing short of amazing.
So, when we gaze upon this man today, I find myself asking what our lives would look like if we dared break down our walls of fear. What would our lives both individually and as a church look like if we focused on releasing ourselves and others from the bondage of greed, shame, and sorrow? If we cared more about tending to the poor and the oppressed than keeping up with the Jones, what harvest would we reap? If we sought to cultivate love in our hearts and in others with the passion of Christ, what would the world look like?
Sisters and brothers, we are walking toward the horror of Good Friday and the glory of Easter but for now, we are gazing upon a remarkable life. It’s a life of calling and fullness and it’s a life that doesn’t end just because we get to Easter. Our calling is to live as the body of Christ. It’s a calling for us here and now and always.
As we seek to know what this life means for us, I leave us with the words of St. Teresa of Avila:
Christ has no body but yours,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
AMEN
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