Salvation Has Come As camp counselors at Father Kane’s Camp in Lake Milton, we taught the campers a song about Zacchaeus: “Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he. He climbed up in a sycamore tree for the Lord he wanted to see. And as the Savior passed that way he looked up in the tree. And he said, ‘Zacchaeus, you come down! For I’m going to your house today. For I’m going to your house today.'” When I think about the story, I picture a short man, unable to see above the crowds, climbing a tree in order to see Jesus. The focus of my storytelling is often on the first part of the story, where Zacchaeus overcomes his height disadvantage and has an encounter with Jesus. The real focus of the story, however, is the second part, where Jesus dines in Zacchaeus’ house and Zacchaeus promises to give half of his possessions to the poor, as well as refund those he defrauded four-fold. Encountering Jesus brings about conversion. Zacchaeus’ new found concern for others is a sign of encounter with Jesus who brings salvation. Every day, Jesus continues to seek and to save us by coming to us and moving us beyond where we are. We respond to his presence through the everyday opportunities that present themselves- when we seek reconciliation with one who has hurt us, when we reach out to the stranger or alienated among us, when we overcome our fears and risk speaking out in the face of injustice. Then our joy arises from receiving Jesus and letting ourselves be transformed by him.
The Prayer Of The Lowly Paul Tillich, commenting on the Apostle Paul’s assertion that the gospel is a stumbling block, once said that the danger is stumbling over the wrong thing. There is something similar occurring in today’s reading, so we’ll want to take our interpretive steps with care. It’s difficult to avoid interpreting the parable in straightforward, even simplistic terms, in part because the dramatic action of this parable is so very predictable even to those with only limited knowledge of the story of Jesus’ life. Knowing that Pharisees are regularly cast in the gospels as Jesus’ opposition, we all too easily judge the Pharisee to be a self-righteous hypocrite and assume that the moral of this story is to be humble. There is good reason for this straightforward interpretation, as Luke seems to frame the parable in just these terms. The difficulty with such an interpretive tact, however, is that we might as well end up preaching, “Lord, we thank you that we are not like other people: hypocrites, overly pious, self righteous, or even like that Pharisee. We come to church each week, listen attentively to Scripture, and we have learned that we should always be humble.” In order to avoid the kind of self-congratulatory reading of the parable that the parable itself would seem to condemn, it may help to note that, in fact, everything the Pharisee says is true. He has set himself apart from others by his faithful adherence to the law. He is, by the standards both Luke and Jesus seem to employ, righteous (see Luke 15:7). So before we judge him too quickly, we might reframe his prayer slightly and wonder if we have uttered it ourselves. Maybe we haven’t said, “Lord, I thank you that I am not like other people…”, but what about, on seeing someone down on his luck, “There but for the grace of God go I”? It isn’t that the Pharisee is speaking falsely, but rather that the Pharisee misses the true nature of his blessing. As Luke states in his introductory sentence, he has trusted in himself. His prayer of gratitude may be spoken to the Lord, but it is really about himself. He locates his righteousness entirely in his own actions and being. The tax collector, on the other hand, knows that he possesses no means by which to claim righteousness. He has done nothing of merit; indeed, he has done much to offend the law of Israel. For this reason he stands back, hardly daring to approach the Temple, and throws himself on the mercy of the Lord. Here is the essential contrast. One makes a claim to righteousness based on his own accomplishments, while the other relies entirely upon the Lord’s benevolence. Rather than be grateful for his blessings, the Pharisee appears smug to the point of despising others. In his mind there are two kinds of people: the righteous and the immoral, and he is grateful that he has placed himself among the righteous. The tax collector, on the other hand, isn’t so much humble as desperate. He is too overwhelmed by his plight to take time to divide humanity into sides. All he recognizes as he stands near the Temple is his own great need. He therefore stakes his hopes and claims not on anything he has done or deserved but entirely on the mercy of God. I don’t think it’s an accident that this exchange takes place at the Temple. On the grounds of the Temple, you were always intimately aware of who you were, of what status you had, of what you could expect from God. There were, at the Temple, “insiders” and “outsiders,” and according to these rules there was no question of where the Pharisee and tax collector stood. But when Jesus dies all this changes. As the gospels report, the curtain in the Temple is torn in two (Luke 23:45), symbolically erasing all divisions of humanity before God. That act is prefigured here, as God justifies not the one favored by Temple law, but rather the one standing outside the Temple gate, and aware only of his utter need. This is what makes this parable so hard to preach. Indeed, what makes this parable a trap. For as soon as we fall prey to the temptation to divide humanity into any kind of groups, we have aligned ourselves squarely with the Pharisee. Whether our division is between righteous and sinners, as with the Pharisee, or even between the self-righteous and the humble, as with Luke, we are doomed. Anytime you draw a line between who’s “in” and who’s “out,” this parable asserts, you will find God on the other side. Read this way, the parable ultimately escapes even its narrative setting and reveals that it is not about self-righteousness and humility any more than it is about a pious Pharisee and desperate tax collector. Rather, this parable is about God: God who alone can judge the human heart; God who determines to justify the ungodly. At the end of this story, the Pharisee will leave the Temple and return to his home righteous. This hasn’t changed; he was righteous when he came up and righteous as he goes back down. The tax collector, however, will leave the Temple and go back down to his home justified, that is, accounted righteous by the Holy One of Israel. How has this happened? The tax collector makes neither sacrifice nor restitution. On what basis, then, is he named as righteous? On the basis of God’s divine fiat and ordinance! This parable is therefore preached well only to the degree that each time we try to interpret it we find ourselves, yet again, with nothing to claim but our dependence on God’s mercy. When this happens and we forget if only for a moment our human-constructed divisions and stand before God aware only of our need, then we, too, are justified by the God of Jesus and invited to return to our homes in mercy, grace, and gratitude.
Persistent Widow Throughout the Gospels Jesus is constantly repeating the same thing over and over again – the Kingdom of God is here in your midst. The Kingdom is come – in Jesus. The Kingdom is Now; the Kingdom is also Not Yet. Which is where the tension resides: The Kingdom is here and now; the Kingdom in its fullness is not yet. But over the centuries Christianity has lost a sense of the Kingdom Now and has tended to focus on the Not Yet. But when we do this we loose an important and central part of Jesus teaching – we loose a sense of immediacy; and we also loose a sense of our own mission and calling. It is with the Parables where Jesus is the most blunt with his descriptions of the Kingdom come Now into our midst. This week we hear the rather odd story of the Unjust Judge or the Persistent Widow and like most of Jesus’ parables there are a variety of ways this one can be interpreted. One approach is for us to identify with the Widow. In this interpretation we acknowledge that we seek after justice and while justice is denied and denied and denied the parable teaches us to be persistent and never stop praying or working for justice. And so, persistence is a key word here – like the widow we should never give up. We know that God is a just God for whom justice is a priority. And so we work for justice – no matter the obstacles – we recognize that it is our job to reach out to those who are in need of food or clothing or comfort and so on. And we are to remain committed to this work over the long haul – we are to be persistent. Another way of interpreting this Parable is to relate God to the Unjust Judge or maybe we might think of the Judge as the Incompetent Judge. What if the point is that God is the Incompetent Judge in that God’s love for God’s people and God’s commitment to justice is so overwhelming that God throws fairness (which is usually a characteristic of a good judge) out of the window and showers love and grace abundantly on those who do not deserve it. Nowhere does Jesus state that the widow’s suit was right or just. And the problem with the judge is that he just doesn’t want to waste his time on what he might see as a frivolous case. The injustice then is that she can’t get a hearing. And in the end she still doesn’t get a hearing because the judge rules in her favor just to get her out of his hair. Perhaps God is like that. Because of God’s overwhelming and overflowing love for us, God rules in our favor and sends us away to continue to work in the Kingdom. It is as though God is saying to us: Stop trying to justify yourself – stop judging others – get to the work of the Kingdom: the work of Generosity, the work of Finding the Lost, the work of Sowing the Seeds, the work of seeking Justice for our neighbor – and commit yourselves to this work – be persistent in your work and always remember that God is not so interested in judging as God is interested in loving!
Attitude of Gratitude A story told: “A friend of mine who is a pastor in Dallas was once teaching Sunday School with a group of children. They were reading this story of the ten lepers. ‘What do you think about this story?’ she asked after she had read it to them. One little girl answered,’Jesus must have been so happy that somebody thanked him!’” What a positive, glass-half- full reading of this text! I wish the little girl’s interpretation could withstand the harsh realities of today’s selection from the Gospel according to Luke. Because the story’s focus is not “Isn’t it great that one returned?” It is, rather, “Why did only one return?” Do I say that just because I am a cynical adult who has lost the child’s rose colored glasses for interpreting texts? Only one leper understands the give and take of healthy relationships. He reveals himself as someone who knew he needed healing, but also as someone compelled to return to his Healer and deepen the relationship begun with the healing. He hears Jesus declare: “Your faith has saved you.” This is faith: knowing who we are before God, gratefully coming to God and ever deepening our relationship with God. And for this we always give thanks. Worship and thanksgiving are our yes to God’s gifts to us. They are our response in faith to a God who shares so much with us that we come to share everlasting life in God’s eternal glory. One challenge of this gospel is to see God’s promise of salvation unfolding in the everyday events of our lives. Gratitude is an all powerful context for living our lives.
Increase Our Faith Sometimes we have a smidgen of an idea, and when we respond to the prompting of the idea it begins to grow and become something concrete and practical. For example, redecorating a room might begin with a choice of color and grow from there. a birthday party might begin with an idea for a theme cake and grow from there. A garden plot might begin with one seed and grow from there. What begins small might end up quite large! Jesus tells the disciples that even a smidgen of faith can achieve great things. How do we increase our faith? Faith increases through decisive obedience to what is commanded. How do we measure this kind of faith? We measure our faith by measuring our faithfulness. The faithful disciple of Jesus is never finished serving. The faith of a disciple is never finished increasing. Faith is a way of life. Thus, the important thing to remember here is that faith is more a verb than a noun! Faith is expressed in the way we act. Faith is faithfulness. Faith is truly extraordinary, not in the acts we might do for God and others, but in terms of the consistent and enduring choices we make daily to act humbly, mercifully and justly, as well as being forgiving and reconciling. Faith is a way of living, a way of expressing our true selves such that we act toward others like Jesus has acted toward us. What increases our faith is faithfulness. What is being faithful? Being servant of all. Faithfulness is confidence that God will fulfill God’s promise to us of salvation. Being faithful here and now is already living what heaven will be.
What Is He Saying? Today’s reading from Luke was and remains thoroughly shocking to most “conventional” understandings of morality or of Jesus. Here, Jesus praises a cheater. He tells his disciples to use “dishonest mammon” as a means to be welcomed into eternal homes. And he says it’s impossible to serve both God and mammon at the same time. Maybe the last of these three isn’t so shocking. But the first two? Do not attempt to blunt or explain away the shocking elements. They simply are shocking. They seem entirely out of character with most pictures of “gentle, benign Jesus.” This is “crazy, weird, dangerous” Jesus. Using a dishonest manager as a positive example? There was no account of virtue in the ancient world that could make sense of what Jesus is doing here. It was just shocking. On purpose. To shock people into just how radically new and different the way the kingdom of God and disciples in that kingdom are. It is while his disciples, others who heard him, and perhaps we ourselves are still reeling in shock from what Jesus has just said that he introduces something we think we might understand. Maybe. “Whoever is faithful with little is faithful also with much.” But given what Jesus has just done with our “conventional” ideas of morality and money, what in the world does “faithful will little” mean? Faithful to whom? Faithful in what way? Whatever it is, it’s not about playing by anything like the usual rules. Maybe in verse 13, we see a glimmer of an answer. “You cannot serve God and wealth.” So maybe the faithfulness being commended is faithfulness to God? Which begs the question: How is the dishonest manager faithful to God? He seems to be faithful only to himself. Perhaps so. Perhaps he is only out to avoid having to do hard physical labor while still having a roof over his head at night. However, the point of this gospel is not really about honesty or how to handle another’s property. This gospel pivots around something much more serious: our ultimate future. This is ours to squander by the choices we make every day. This gospel is about the final judgment and the fullness of life.
Hanging Around With The Wrong Crowd Luke offers us two “lost things” stories told inside a larger narrative in which some religious experts were criticizing Jesus for spending time with tax collectors and sinners and daring to eat at their tables. The experts knew the rules and genuinely worked hard to live by them. Jesus does not critique that here. What he critiques is their attitude toward those who did not live by the rules, indeed, those who might be called “lost.” In their view, such persons were either lazy or weak or rebellious. In other words, it was the fault of the lost that they were lost. The question is, what should be done about this. For them, that was clear. Stay away from them. If they’re going to “return,” that’s up to them. “Hanging with the wrong crowd” is only likely to get you moving in the wrong direction, too. To be sure, these experts had solid biblical backing for that solution. And it’s present in both testaments, so Christians have often offered the same advice. “Be holy, for I am holy” (I Peter 1:15-16, drawing on Leviticus 11:44, 19:2, and 20:7). “Come out from among them!” (2 Corinthians 6:17, rephrasing Isaiah 52.11). “Pure religion … is to care for widows and orphans in their distress and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (James 1:27). We know this from experience, too, don’t we? We tend to become like the people we hang around with. So if we’re working to start a new habit, or stop an old one, it helps a lot to surround ourselves with others who already have that new habit, rather than “fall in” with folks who are continuing in habits we’re trying to break or change. Jesus doesn’t disagree about the potentially deleterious effect of “bad company.” But he also doesn’t see that as an excuse to leave the lost to fend for themselves. That only ensures they remain lost. Lost coins and lost sheep cannot restore themselves. For the most part, Jesus implies in telling these stories, neither can lost people. So to Jesus, when people get lost, it’s up to the community, not simply to the lost individuals, to go and help them find their way home. We see this in the story of the prodigal father, too–the father sees the son while the son is a long way off and goes running to greet him, and it is the father’s action, not the son’s request, that restores the son. Jesus takes the work of restoring the lost a step further. We seek and even “hang with” the lost, not simply to make them happy, or ourselves happy, that they become found. Jesus says the very angels in heaven rejoice whenever the lost are found. All heaven is out to seek and find the lost. (Sound familiar from I Timothy?) That’s why Jesus eats with sinners. That’s why we remember this every time we gather at the Lord’s Table. And that’s why we, his disciples, should not only remember that Jesus ate with the lost, but we ourselves, should, too.
Job Description: Calculate The Cost This week’s Gospel from Luke takes toughness through the roof. On the face of it, the teaching here seems utterly offensive. Hate your family? Take up a crucifix and follow Jesus? Give up all your possessions? And if you don’t do these things, you cannot be a disciple of Jesus? What kind of cult leader is this Jesus guy? That’s one possible response — to reject the offense and the offender. Another is to say that Jesus didn’t really mean what he seems to have said at all. He meant something more like “love me more than anything” and “try your best” and “don’t focus on things.” This response (and it is very common in preaching and commentaries) might be called evading the offense. However, it is also evading Jesus. A third approach is to impose an ethic of balance or tension. We have to balance our love for Jesus with our love for our family. We have to live with the tension of the faithfulness to God on the one hand and duty to others on the other, being sure not to go too far in either direction, lest we become completely faithless (duty to others alone) or cause ourselves foolish harm (the cross). We need to be prudent with our possessions, giving out of overflow, perhaps, but certainly not giving it all. This is a way of completely ignoring both the offense and the offender. Jesus never once, anywhere in Scripture, calls us to live in balance or tension. Greek philosophers have done so. Jesus does not. He calls us to follow him. The qualifications Jesus puts forth for being his disciples were and are offensive and radical. And they are his conditions as he considers whom he will trust as disciples. They are not ours as we choose whether we want to follow such a demanding master. Ours as disciples is not to “dumb down” his demands, but to accept the radicality of his challenge, and, if we want him to choose us as part of his construction crew to expect to live into them. The radical call suggests that we grow into it. As we make choices to live out our discipleship, we enter more deeply into its meaning and demands. Our ongoing baptismal yes is our ongoing self-emptying stance of discipleship. Jesus is constantly inviting us to listen to him. We spend our whole lives bringing our fullest attention to what he is saying. God will sustain us. God never goes back on the divine promise to give new Life to those who are faithful.
Where To Sit? Where do you sit at a meal when you’re a prominent guest or think you might be? Jesus offers his angle in this week’s Gospel. We still have a practice similar to the scene Jesus described — the “head table” at award dinners, company banquets, weddings, or other social occasions. The person or persons at the center of the head table are “the most honored” at any given banquet. If you’re “somebody,” you would expect and seek to be as close to the seats of highest honor as possible. In this week’s scripture, Jesus turns all of this on its head. Whoever you are or think you may be, seek the very lowest seat, Jesus says, and let others raise you where they want you to be. Why? In the kingdom of God, honor is a gift granted by another rather than a right earned by oneself. This is also valuable when we’re sent on mission. We are to presume no privilege in the house or community of another. What we have to offer is what is asked of us. What we receive is what is given to us. The kind of guest list we make matters, too. Jesus calls us to invite people to our banquets that no one would ever think to invite — the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Jesus is calling us to authentic relationship with God by caring for those who cannot care for themselves. The surprise- total self-giving to the lowly and needy means reward in heaven–eternal glory with God. We need not look too far to put Jesus’ teaching this week into practice!
Are We There Yet? Our Gospel uses the image of a narrow gate. The image suggests structure, difficulty, squeezing by. entering the narrow gate to salvation is not guaranteed by privilege or tradition but guaranteed by openness to the indwelling God. The gate is narrow because the way is difficult, for journeying with Jesus will lead to Jerusalem and the cross. Strength for entering the narrow gate comes from the food Jesus gives us. We cannot claim merely eating and drinking with Jesus our ticket to heaven. No, we must remain in his presence, be transformed into his presence for others. In other words, we must live what we have become: blessed, broken and given for others. We must be Eucharist for others. The narrow gate is thrown open more widely when we are strengthened by this Eucharist. We know where Jesus is going, are we willing to go there with him? The surprise of the Gospel is that being saved comes by transformation which comes from sharing in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. What is required? We walk with Jesus to Jerusalem! Are we there yet? Sometimes we want this dying to be over. We want the risen Life which comes from knowing who Jesus is, journeying with him and being faithful to him. In God’s good time that will come. In the meantime, we are to walk with Jesus to Jerusalem.
I Have Come To Set The Earth On Fire Most of us shun fighting. We want to live our lives in peace. We pray for peace in the world. But what is peace? Jesus makes clear in our Gospel today that it is not the absence of strife. In fact, Jesus suggests that being on fire to accomplish his mission may bring serious divisions. The issue is to be faithful to the saving mission for which Jesus was sent. Even in the midst of strife we can know peace. Jesus’ very message is divisive because it calls people to a radical way of living- self-giving for te sake of others. We must make a decision to follow him or not, to share his Passion or not, to be self-giving as he is. This choice results in divisions because all of us do not make the same choice to follow Jesus. Jesus came to preach the Good News of radical fidelity to God. Paradoxically, being faithful to Jesus is how we come to lasting peace. If we compromise our Gospel message in order to have peace now, we forfeit the everlasting peace which is promised us. The choice is ours.
Do Not Worry According to Luke, Jesus is on the road to Jerusalem, teaching his disciples – and occasionally the crowds he attracts – along the way. After sharing the parable of the rich fool, Jesus urged his disciples to dwell on no earthly concerns: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear…Instead, strive for God’s kingdom and these things will be given to you as well.” (12:22-23, 31). In today’s passage, and in light of such faith and trust, Jesus now invites them to give all they have away and, in the verses that follow, to look for Christ’s imminent return. The edge in the last verses – reward for those who were ready and what feels like a thinly veiled threat to those who are not – only heightens the sense of expectancy for, and tension around, Jesus’ instructions. &nsp; Does Jesus really intend for his disciples – then or now – to give all they have away? What do we make of the urgency of his instructions to be alert two thousand years later? No wonder Peter asks whether Jesus says these things to his disciples or – hope against hope – to “everyone.”  [; There is, however, one verse that is easy to gloss over that helps put these others in some theological perspective: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” “Do not be afraid” is the hallmark of good news through Scripture and occurs multiple times in Luke’s story of Jesus as well. (It is also what God says to Abram in today’s first reading.) Typically, “Do not be afraid,” is the rhetorical prelude to the announcement of God’s mighty and saving deeds. And it is the starting point and anchor for everything else in this passage. It is God’s good pleasure – God’s intention, plan, and delight – to give you the kingdom! If this is true, then disciples can, indeed, resist the seduction of wealth, not fall prey to constant anxiety about worldly needs, share what they have with others, and wait expectantly, even eagerly, for the coming of the Son of Man. The point of almsgiving, I think, is not to elevate poverty – circumstantial or chosen – but rather to extol generosity as a mark of the Christian life. Similarly, the watchfulness Jesus commands is not an anxious anticipation of the end of the world but rather an eager expectation of God’s consummation of history. What Jesus is commending is faith – faith that frees one to be generous; faith that enables one to leave anxiety behind; faith that creates in one confidence about a future secured not by human endeavor or achievement but by God alone. But Jesus does not simply hold out faith as a model and goal, much less as a standard by which to judge us. Rather, Jesus creates faith by announcing a promise: Like a parent loves her children deeply and desperately and wants all good things for them, so also is it God’s good pleasure to give God’s children the kingdom. Promises create a shared expectation about the future and bind together the giver and receiver of the promise in that shared anticipation. Promises create relationship. Promises create hope. Promises create faith. All of our instruction about the Christian life – whether about prayer, money, watchfulness, care of neighbor, and more – are therefore anchored in the gospel promise that it is, indeed, God’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom. Remembering – indeed, exalting in – this promise enables us not only to have faith, but to answer Peter’s question: is Jesus saying this to us or to everyone? Yes!
Eat, Drink and Be Merry Today’s Gospel is the origin of the saying “eat, drink and be merry” which at first sight seems quite a good thought to take into the summer holidays. Further reading, though, shows that it is not a Gospel meant for light summer reading. It deals with the temptation that still faces us today – of seeing our possessions as our security. The man in the Gospel thinks that he has got it made – life is sweet – his hard work has paid off – now, at last, he can enjoy the fruits of his years of labour… The sad thing is – it is too late – and all that he owns cannot put off the hour of reckoning – his death. As the saying goes, “You can’t take it with you!” It is a hard thought – and not one we might want to dwell on at this time of year. Are we being told that hard work counts for nothing? Can we really just trust in providence? Don’t we have to make provision for our old age? Aren’t we allowed to enjoy the good things in life? Well, if we think about it, Jesus did enjoy the good things in life and was supported financially by fairly wealthy women and others. He even gained the reputation among the Pharisees for over-indulging – and people compared Him unfavourably with the ascetics (people who live extremely simply) who followed John the Baptist. Jesus enjoyed life to the full – but knew where His security lay – and did not allow Himself or His disciples to set too much store by material possessions. What might this Gospel offer us as people take time off work to go on holiday. Perhaps it is a reminder to a generation where people work harder and harder and longer and longer hours to provide for “security” and live for a dream-future – “when I retire…” “when the children are older… “ that life is for living now. Making provision is sensible – but should not lead us to spend all our time and energy on building bigger barns (or bigger bank accounts) than we need.
Such a Gift! Prayer is not magic. We cannot expect to receive whatever we want from God just because we ask. If this were so, many of us would be praying to win the lottery! No, praying to win the lottery will not make us rich. However praying for what we need and what is good for us opens us to God’s presence, helps us gain God’s perspective on our lives, challenges us to think broader than our immediate needs. Prayer includes a discernment of what God wants for us, not simply what we want for ourselves. In our Gospel, Jesus instills confidence in his disciples that they will receive from God that for which they pray. He teaches us to pray for daily needs: the food we need to live, the forgiveness we need to grow in our relationships, the protection we need to remain faithful. Because of what we have received, we are certain that God will give even more to those who ask – a share in the plenitude of God’s very life. Such a gift! The kind of prayer Jesus teaches is the prayer coming from our heart! It is a prayer of communion, a prayer of attentiveness to divine Presence, a prayer seeking God’s will. Praying brings us to divine encounter and to listening to God’s will for us. Prayer is the communion of Person with person. It is the utterance of spirit to Spirit. Of life to Life.
Martha, Martha Our Gospel today takes a sharp turn when Martha, distracted by her many tasks, comes to Jesus and asks, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me”(10:40). Many who read or hear this story may cheer for Mary in her inversion of traditional roles. Many may also empathize with Martha’s resentment of her sister for leaving her to do all the work. Jesus’ response to Martha seems less than empathetic, chiding her for her distraction and worry, and praising Mary: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.* Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (10:41-42). The problem with Martha is not that she is busy serving and providing hospitality. Certainly Jesus commends this kind of service to the neighbor many times, notably in the parable of the Good Samaritan that immediately precedes the story of Mary and Martha. The problem with Martha is not her serving, but rather that she is worried and distracted. The word translated “distracted” in verse 40, periespato, has the connotation of being pulled or dragged in different directions. Martha’s distraction and worry leave no room for the most important aspect of hospitality — gracious attention to the guest. In fact, she breaks all the rules of hospitality by trying to embarrass her sister in front of her guest, and by asking her guest to intervene in a family dispute. She even goes so far as to accuse Jesus of not caring about her (Lord, do you not care…?). Martha’s worry and distraction prevent her from being truly present with Jesus, and cause her to drive a wedge between her sister and herself, and between Jesus and herself. She has missed out on the “one thing needed” for true hospitality. There is no greater hospitality than listening to your guest. How much more so when the guest is Jesus! So Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her. Jesus’ words to Martha may be seen as an invitation rather than a rebuke. Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. The one thing needed is for Martha to receive the gracious presence of Jesus, to listen to his words, to know that she is valued not for what she does or how well she does it, but for who she is as a child of God. In a culture of hectic schedules and the relentless pursuit of productivity, we are tempted to measure our worth by how busy we are, by how much we accomplish, or by how well we meet the expectations of others. Many of us likely identify with Martha. Feeling pulled in different directions, feeling worried and distracted by many things — these seem to be common threads of life in our fast-paced world. And yet, as Jesus says in Luke 12:25, “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?” We know that worrying does no good, and that much of what we worry about is not so important in the larger scheme of things, and yet we cannot seem to quell our anxious thoughts and frantic activity. It is true that much of our busyness and distraction stems from the noblest of intentions. We want to provide for our families, we want to give our children every opportunity to enrich their lives, we want to serve our neighbors, and yes, we want to serve the Lord. Indeed, where would the church be without its “Marthas,” those faithful folk who perform the tasks of hospitality and service so vital to making the church a welcoming and well-functioning community? And yet if all our activities leave us with no time to be still in the Lord’s presence and hear God’s word, we are likely to end up anxious and troubled. We are likely to end up with a kind of service that is devoid of love and joy and is resentful of others. Both listening and doing, receiving God’s Word and serving others, are vital to the Christian life, just as inhaling and exhaling are to breathing. Yet how often do we forget to breathe in deeply? Trying to serve without being nourished by God’s word is like expecting good fruit to grow from a tree that has been uprooted. We do know that Jesus invites all of us who are worried and distracted by many things to sit and rest in his presence, to hear his words of grace and truth, to know that we are loved and valued as children of God, to be renewed in faith and strengthened for service. There is need of only one thing: attention to our guest. As it turns out, our guest is also our host, with abundant gifts to give.
Serve and Be Hospitable When living alone, it is challenging to have guests for dinner! On the one hand, you are busy getting the drinks and hors d’oeuvres, finishing up the dinner. At the same time, you want to be with your guests. So, how can you serve and be hospitable at the same time? This is a tricky, balancing act! Yet, every good hosts knows that the guests are far more important than anything else! Our Gospel today demonstrates many expressions of hospitality: welcoming, listening, serving. No One way is complete in itself. There is no one way to be hospitable. Hospitality at its deepest meaning makes possible a personal encounter of the kind Mary experiences with Jesus. Martha, rather than being truly hospitable, is anxious about accomplishing a task. Her welcome shifts away from Jesus to herself. Being busy, she misses the better part- centering on Jesus! The better part is to be undividedly present to Jesus- even when serving. How can we keep Jesus at the center of our lives when we are always busy? One way is to see Jesus in every person we meet. Another way is to ask: why are we doing things-to accomplish a task or to build a stronger relationship with others? ‘7nbsp; In the busy-ness of our lives, let us take the time to be present to others so that we truly encounter them. Our discipleship calls us to become present and to take the other into our heart. The encounter with Jesus is essential to hospitality.
Who Is My Neighbor? All communities, clubs, organizations, families have “bylaws.” These bylaws are not ends in themselves, however, but means for helping the group achieve its purpose. The same is true for God’s laws. Jesus makes explicit what is the purpose of the law and it seems so simple: to love God and neighbor. Yet the kind of love Jesus describes through the parable of the Good Samaritan is anything simple. It requires of us the unconditional gift of self. What Jesus does make simple is that love of neighbor is practical, concrete, readily identifiable. Jesus challenges us to see and respond to the hurt and bleeding persons lying beside the road of our own daily life. We walk past people in need sometimes because we are too busy, sometimes because we are too intent on where we are going or sometimes because we are too afraid to get involved. The law of love teaches us to “love …with all…with all…with all…” The law of love challenges us constantly to reevaluate our priorities and discern where we need to grow in the unconditional gift of self.
Go On Your Way Some of my friends, when they have tasks to do, make out a list and cross off each task as it is completed. they love to see their list of ten tasks now with just seven, now three, then almost complete. To give themselves a boost, they may prioritize the list and begin with the easiest jobs that are most quickly accomplished. Thus in the first hour of work, they may cross off four items and thus are given a boost of energy! Our gospel today talks about labors, but, there is no list. There is no prioritizing to begin with easy tasks. Jesus sends us out on a challenging, difficult task. This task cannot be accomplished in a single day, but requires a lifetime of faithful labor. Jesus sends the disciples out, and us, to plant the seed of the Good News and to harvest its fruit of peace and the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. The Kingdom is at hand because wherever the disciples are present and received, God is present and received. Despite the disciples facing rejection, their labor will bear fruit for it is God’s power that works through them. It is God’s work. For this divine power and presence, we rejoice.
I Will Follow Sometimes I need a push to dive into something demanding, be it an unpleasant task, a tediously long and boring job or just motivating myself for a variety of tasks. Motivation and persistence do not come naturally to many of us. The Gospel for this Sunday is about a journey but the end is not something I would choose. As I reflected on our Gospel I was reminded of the following quote from a book I read early in my spiritual journey –“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” With these words, in The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer gave powerful voice to the millions of Christians who believe personal sacrifice is an essential component of faith. Jesus is determined to journey to Jerusalem. This might seem like a pleasant trip, until we realize that the journey to Jerusalem is really a metaphor for his passion, death and resurrection! As disciples, we are invited to join Jesus on this journey to new life. We spend our whole lives working out what began at baptism: following Jesus through death into life. We spend our whole lives learning how to be resolutely determined and faithful on our journey. The challenge of this Gospel is to accept the cost of discipleship – to accept dying to self that is necessary to following Jesus and to cooperate with him in establishing God’s reign. Frustration and fatigue, disappointment and rejection can stop us dead in our tracks. Even so, Jesus is very patient. giving us the strength we need to continue the journey. This strength comes from the love and support of family and friends, through learning to let go of less important things, by experiencing the good of our self-giving. The Good News – rely on Jesus who has promised to be with us to the end of our journey.
The Christ of God The two questions that Jesus poses to His disciples today – “Who do people say I am?” and “Who do you say I am?” are questions that every disciples has to face at some time in their lives. They may be questions that we have to keep returning to as we learn more – and change throughout the course of our lives. Jesus asks the disciples first of all what they have heard others say about Him – and they quote those who say He is John the Baptist – Jeremiah – one of the other prophets – and so on. Then, He changes the question to “But you – who do you say I am?” They fall silent – this was obviously something they either had not given any thought to – or could not put into words if they had. At this point, Simon Peter finds words from deep within himself as the truth about who Jesus is revealed to him. A fisherman – more used to mending nets and catching and selling fish – finds himself at a turning point in history – when Jesus is revealed as the Christ. Jesus recognizes that such an insight cannot come from human thinking – but is a revelation from God. He also recognizes that this sets Peter apart as someone who not only receives the revelation but is also able to speak of it. In this, we see a premonition of Peter’s speech on the first Pentecost Sunday. Throughout our lives, we hear different things about Jesus. Some of them will help to develop our understanding about Jesus – others will challenge us – and others may confuse us. Like Peter today, we will hear all sorts of things about Jesus – but, eventually, we will have to look at them all and decide what we believe about Jesus. This may change and grow as we change and grow – indeed it should grow and change. But always, as we reflect, we come back to the same insight – stronger and deeper – that Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ – the Son of God. And this Gospel challenges us with our own identity. We are Christ’s presence any time we forgive, offer encouraging words, show mercy and compassion. In all these and many other ways, we witness to our identity as church- as the presence of the risen Christ made visible in and through us. Such an identity we share.
Your Sins Are Forgiven There is a saying that goes, “We seldom see things the way they are, rather we see things the way we are“ Our contexts, our cultures, our histories with certain people groups, our preferences, are all filters which determine what we see when we see something or someone. Labeling and prejudice can be a way of life. Is this what is happening in our Gospel today? Simon the Pharisee, is focused on the externals. “he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” His focus on externals prevents him from meeting the person behind his label. The anonymous woman, is focused on her deep need for unconditional acceptance. “She stood behind him at his feet,weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair” Her need overwhelms her awareness of propriety and place. Jesus with the wealth of wisdom coming from a contemplatively integrated heart, sees both and his response to Simon and the woman is absolutely need specific and thus appropriate to each individual. Jesus’ response: >Seeing the need not the label >Responding with compassion and not prejudice >Putting care above convention >Being able to hold opposing energies in one room and minister to people on each side. (Simon and the Woman) The gospel reading ends with a list of interesting women who followed Jesus on the way. Looking deeply at this encounter in Simon’s house, I can understand why they did. Perhaps one way to live this Gospel would be to sit down and make a list of all the good God has given us. Then take some time to utter a prayer of thanks to this God who is merciful and gracious to us. This God who loves us even when we sin.
Do Not Weep My siblings and I tried to prepare spiritually and emotionally our whole lives for the death of our parents. That is the way it should be. No parents can prepare to bury their child. This isn’t the way it should be. While there is always grief at the death of a parent, there is no small measure of comfort in reminiscing about a life well spent, a long life that has influenced many and achieved much good. When a child dies, however -even an adult child – we have a sense that the life the parents have brought into this world has been cheated by the brevity of time on earth. The younger generation just doesn’t die first. That’s not the way things are supposed to be! In our Gospel today, a funeral procession is taking place. A son has died. The dead man was the widow’s only son. Her life was effectively over. With the death of her son, she lost her future as well as her present. Jesus, out of pity, raised her son back to life again. By raising her son, Jesus restored her present possibilities and revealed God’s promise concerning our future: death is not the end, but the beginning of the fullness of life God intends for us. Our journey is a constant opening of ourselves to new life that comes from God. Every day Jesus encounters us on the way and has pity on us. Every day Jesus says to us, “Arise!” when we think we are going to break from too much tension, are discouraged with always playing catch-up, our doubting our ability to make a difference in our world. What is our response to his ever present gift of life?
Trinity Sunday This Sunday is Trinity Sunday – the first Sunday after Pentecost a time of year that Popes and Bishops, Councils and Synods, have, for years thought it good and wise to remind the millions of seekers – the millions of faithful – for whom they care – that God is a mystery which is best understood in three ways: as creator — or father; as redeemer — or son and as sustainer — or spirit. God is one. Yet God is three. God is here. Yet God is everywhere. God is mighty. Yet God is tender. God is just. Yet God has mercy. God is spirit. Yet God takes on flesh. God is in Christ. Christ is in Us. God is Spirit and the Spirit blows where it wills. Yet the Spirit abides in our hearts. God is one. Yet God is three. The Spirit of God, God the Spirit, is the one which guides us – the one which comforts us – the one that convicts us and conveys God’s mercy to us – the one who listens – and the one who speaks – and in speaking never asks of us that which is wrong – and never does through us – that which would bring shame to the name of God It is by the Spirit that our prayer is prayer to God and by the Spirit that our prayer is answered. God is one, yet God is three. God is a mystery — a mystery so big, so awesome, so holy that our limited minds can never grasp the wholeness of it but God has placed in us a capacity to appreciate the mystery that God is and to embrace that mystery . God has revealed God’s self , not just in the act of creation – in nature and its manifest goodness and beauty, – not just in the nudges and nods of the Spirit – in the prophet’s vision and the old man’s dreams, God has revealed God’s self in the one called Jesus the one called Christ – the one who was born by the Spirit and who worked all his works by the Spirit and who healed and forgave by the Spirit and in all that he spoke he spoke the word of God by the Spirit. In Christ, God reveals himself as the one who loves – and who does so in tangible, concrete, incarnate – in fleshed – ways. Grab hold of the mystery — appreciate it and embrace it: the mystery that not only is God one in three and three in one but the mystery that God loves you, the mystery that God cares for you, the mystery that God can and will, if you let him, use you to do great things that God can and will, if you are open to his bidding, use you to bring healing, and wholeness, and hope first to your homes, then to your neighbors and finally to the whole world through the gospel that we have received.
Pentecost Sunday Pentecost! The celebration of… what? Flames on heads? Speaking in tongues? The blessing of the Spirit on individuals? Although Pentecost was originally a festival celebration of the wheat harvest in ancient Israel, and of the giving of the law which defined Israel as a nation, for Christians it is known as the time when the power of the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples, and is sometimes called the birthday of the church. In that sense, Pentecost, which can also refer to the entire 50 days between the resurrection and the coming of the Spirit, is the celebration of the formation of the church as corporate body. Jesus’ promise to send the Holy Spirit to guide his disciples, just before he ascends to heaven, is sealed with the arrival of the Spirit on Pentecost. The Spirit of God has, of course, been present since the beginning of creation, but the event of Pentecost marks the moment when the Spirit works to mediate the presence of the Risen Christ to the church community. Pentecost, then, is more about the corporate body of the church than about the spiritual presence of God to individual believers. The Spirit is now available to guide the church in its mission to bring the Gospel to the world. The effect on the disciples as they receive the Spirit is interesting in this respect. They begin to speak in languages other than their own, with the crowd who gathers hearing the disciples speak in their own language. This is the reversal of what happened with the curse of Babel, which resulted in confusion and lack of understanding between peoples. Rather, at Pentecost, all are made able to understand the message of the Gospel, and are drawn into the church through the power and understanding given by the Spirit. What should this mean for us today, as a people of the Spirit? By this indwelling of the Spirit, we ourselves become advocates of God’s presence for others. It maybe as simple as a reassuring touch or a helping hand. It might be a sacrifice of time in volunteering for a task that needs to be done for the good of all. In all, we are called to die to ourselves in order to be the true presence of Christ for others.
What Are We Going To Do? The Ascension of Jesus into heaven is one of those strange Bible stories that Cecil B. De Mille would’ve enjoyed filming. Charlton Heston would play Jesus, of course. He would give the apostles some final instructions and then say with just the right touch of divine resonance, “STAY HERE IN THE CITY UNTIL YOU HAVE BEEN CLOTHED WITH POWER FROM ON HIGH.” Charlton/Jesus would take the next cloud to heaven in proper cinematic flourish. I picture it as an escalator-type effect, slow and lingering but with a decided trajectory, just the right light but without the stairs. Maybe some cherubim music, but clearly within the bounds of proper taste. Finally, the camera cuts to an overhead shot of the apostles — dazed, mouths agape, like Gomer Pyle looking up at a skyscraper for the first time. Shazzam, he’s gone. Someone once playfully suggested that as Jesus departed into heaven, the disciples finally saw the “sole” of Jesus. S-o-l-e, the bottoms of his shoes. Anyway, they all stood there looking up as if visiting Cape Canaveral for an Apollo space shot. “Now what?” we can almost hear them all say. “Our leader is gone. Now what?” The Ascension of Jesus is a great story. Like the parting of the Red Sea, or the sling-shooting of Goliath by David, or the feeding of the 5,000, you can see the Ascension in your mind. You can use your imagination and fill in the details. The disciples are in the shadows looking like they want to grab Jesus’ feet and keep him on earth (like trying to tether an escaping hot air balloon).. There’s a devilish little angel over in the corner who’s making a face directly into the gaze of the viewer of the canvas as if to say, “We’ve got him up here now. You don’t. Now what are you going do?” What are we going to do? We are now sent on mission to be his presence and to do his ministry. In essence, Jesus empowered the disciples and us to live a wholly new relationship with him, one that will be expressed in our daily living. We are the living presence of the risen Christ in our world today.
Praying Pentecost As we prepare to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, we offer the following for your prayer and reflection. Part of the legacy of Pentecost is prayer. The prayers of people like you keep the church alive. Do you believe in the power of your prayers? I hope you do, because it is God’s power living in this church. It is restoring people to health, it is meeting people in their moment of need. Prayer is working right here. Spirit of Christ, stir me; Spirit of Christ, move me; Spirit of Christ, fill me; Spirit of Christ, seal me. Create in me a fountain of virtues. Seal my soul as Your own, that Your reflection in me may be a light for all to see. Amen Breathe in me O Holy Spirit that my thoughts may all be holy; Act in me O Holy Spirit that my works, too, may be holy; Draw my heart O Holy Spirit that I love but what is holy; Strengthen me O Holy Spirit to defend that is holy; Guard me then O Holy Spirit that I always may be holy. St. Augustine of Hippo (AD 354-430) We light a candle and enjoy the flickering light the fragrance and warmth it creates. But without the spark that ignites there will be no flame Without the wax the source of power the wick will not burn. Without the flame there will be no fragrance no warmth, no light. And so with us, Lord You are the catalyst that ignites us and the fuel that sustains us. You fill us with your fragrance as you enter our lives. You empower us to carry your flame in our hearts To be the fragrance, warmth and light of your love in this dark world. Here’s a widget with songs you can choose from each day to set the mood for prayer. Pentecost by Therese Rich, OSU on Grooveshark Lord Take me where you want me to go, Let me meet who you want me to meet Tell me what you want me to say, and keep me out of your way. -The Rev. Mychal Judge O.F.M.
Who Will Teach Us? We have little problem understanding how love is an action. We can see love: the care parents give children, the care adult children give their elderly parents, the generosity of youth in responding to disasters, the goodness of volunteers who keep many good programs viable. These are observable if we but open our eyes to see. Yet we rarely think of believing as an action. Yet it is. Believing is as concrete and visible an action as love. In our Gospel, Jesus promises to send us the Holy Spirit who will teach us everything. The holy Spirit does not teach us what to believe but to believe. To believe means to live out of the divine indwelling, to live out of the peace given, to live out of the mutual exchange of love between God and us and each other. Believing is living what the Spirit teaches us. Believing is an action that marries love with presence. The peace we receive is not an absence of strife or contention, but the fruit of the Holy Spirit dwelling in us. Such love God gives us. We need not be troubled. We only need to love in return. Here is what is wholly new-God wells within us! This union between God and humanity is made possible by Jesus’ farewell gift- the ‘Holy Spirit.