Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 14, 2014

Hebrew Bible Reading: Exodus 14:19-31

The angel of God who was going before the Israelite army moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them. It came between the army of Egypt and the army of Israel. And so the cloud was there with the darkness, and it lit up the night; one did not come near the other all night.

Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. The Lord drove the sea back by a strong east wind all night, and turned the sea into dry land; and the waters were divided. The Israelites went into the sea on dry ground, the waters forming a wall for them on their right and on their left. The Egyptians pursued, and went into the sea after them, all of Pharaoh’s horses, chariots, and chariot drivers. At the morning watch the Lord in the pillar of fire and cloud looked down upon the Egyptian army, and threw the Egyptian army into panic. He clogged their chariot wheels so that they turned with difficulty. The Egyptians said, “Let us flee from the Israelites, for the Lord is fighting for them against Egypt.”

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand over the sea, so that the water may come back upon the Egyptians, upon their chariots and chariot drivers.” So Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and at dawn the sea returned to its normal depth. As the Egyptians fled before it, the Lord tossed the Egyptians into the sea. The waters returned and covered the chariots and the chariot drivers, the entire army of Pharaoh that had followed them into the sea; not one of them remained. But the Israelites walked on dry ground through the sea, the waters forming a wall for them on their right and on their left.

Thus the Lord saved Israel that day from the Egyptians; and Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore. Israel saw the great work that the Lord did against the Egyptians. So the people feared the Lord and believed in the Lord and in his servant Moses.

Reflections:  This pivotal story in the life of the people of God has been retold innumerable times, and interpreted in diverse ways. Debating whether miracles involve the violation of nature, or whether God punished the Egyptians for following the instructions of their political and military leaders probably miss the point. What we might ask ourselves, instead, is what this event speaks to in our life experience.

It’s not difficult to relate to the Israelite’s situation. While I may not have had my back against the sea in the face of an invading army, I have found myself in impossible situations: lost something I greatly treasured, failed at something that really mattered, hurt someone I loved. Once my mother almost died while I was abroad—with no money for a ticket home. Like the Israelites at the Red Sea, I too could see no way forward.

And yet, most of the time, life continues. Sometimes we are delivered: we find what we have lost, we discover new possibilities, relationships are healed. At other times superman never comes; we can recognize deliverance only in retrospect. Whether we feel our prayer are answered, or continue to struggle, God has been and remains with us, and God is deliverance, a presence in the here and now that is true and real, independent of our current outlook or feelings.

What is really remarkable about this passage in Exodus may not be that the Israelites were delivered from impending disaster, but the fact that they saw the hand of God in that turn of events—and remembered. The story became not simply an account of events, but a formative history that shaped a diverse crowd victims into the people of God.

In contrast to the Israelites, however, no matter how tied up in knots I might get about a situation in which I feel trapped, when deliverance comes, it is easy to forget my desperation. The relief that wells up quickly dissipates, then dissolves in my new preoccupations. I suspect that our lives are full of events (both resolved and as yet unresolved) with the life-changing potential of Exodus. They are doubtless rife with stories that can rewrite our personal histories . . . if we honor them by discerning the presence of God in those experiences—and remember.

Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 14, 2014The Epistle: Romans 14:1-12

Welcome those who are weak in faith, but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions. Some believe in eating anything, while the weak eat only vegetables. Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must not pass judgment on those who eat; for God has welcomed them. Who are you to pass judgment on servants of another? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall. And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand.

Some judge one day to be better than another, while others judge all days to be alike. Let all be fully convinced in their own minds. Those who observe the day, observe it in honor of the Lord. Also those who eat, eat in honor of the Lord, since they give thanks to God; while those who abstain, abstain in honor of the Lord and give thanks to God.

We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God. For it is written,

As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,
and every tongue shall give praise to God.

So then, each of us will be accountable to God.

Reflections: St. Paul wrote this passage in his letter to address a controversy that was dividing the members of the community in Rome. The problem with “eating meat” and “not eating meat” wasn’t about vegetarianism. Rather, the problem was that meat sold in the marketplace had been offered to gods (“idols”). Some Christians quite naturally thought it was wrong to eat meat offered to other gods, so they didn’t—and apparently they criticized those who did eat it. On the other hand, however, Other Christians understood that no other gods existed, and therefore they could eat the meat with good conscience.

The point is, Paul argues, that we should watch over our own behavior, not that of others. Jesus himself preached against judging others. But as this passage later tells us, we are only to refrain from judging others; we are equally responsible for not causing offense. In other words, the fact that something is “legal” or our “right” does not mean we should do it.

Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 14, 2014

The Gospel: Matthew 18:21-35

Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times [or: seventy times seven].

“For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents [a talent was worth more than fifteen years’ wages of a laborer] was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii [a denarius was the usual day’s wage for a laborer]; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Reflections: We are inclined to think of Peter here as making another, typical gaff: he is parsimonious with forgiveness by setting the limit at 7. But Fr. Madison pointed out in his sermon today that the norm at the time was 3. It was expected to forgive up to 3 times. Peter was being generous! Nonetheless, Jesus’ answer (whether 77 or 70 x 7 makes no real difference) is that it’s not about keeping score.

Still, two real problems arise when we sincerely try to follow Jesus’ teachings. First, Forgiveness: in our anxiety to be good Christians, we might try to force it before the heart is ready. Forgiveness is a process; it takes time for God to reshape our hearts. Forgiveness is also complex. To feel compelled to forgive before we are ready yields a thin, false forgiveness, scabbing over a deep wound that continues to fester in secret. Forgiveness also doesn’t mean papering over injustice, or pretending everything’s okay. And maybe hardest of all is forgiving ourselves.  Is it any wonder, then, that Jesus suggests we d?

Fr. Madison said in his sermon that we are called to become Masters of the Art of Forgiveness. The good news is that we get to practice our whole life long to. 

Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 7, 2014

The Hebrew Bible Reading: Exodus 12:1-14

The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt: This month shall mark for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first month of the year for you. Tell the whole congregation of Israel that on the tenth of this month they are to take a lamb for each family, a lamb for each household. If a household is too small for a whole lamb, it shall join its closest neighbor in obtaining one; the lamb shall be divided in proportion to the number of people who eat of it.  Your lamb shall be without blemish, a year-old male; you may take it from the sheep or from the goats. You shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month; then the whole assembled congregation of Israel shall slaughter it at twilight. They shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. They shall eat the lamb that same night; they shall eat it roasted over the fire with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted over the fire, with its head, legs, and inner organs. You shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the Passover of the Lord.  For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both human beings and animals; on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt.

This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.

Reflections:  The Rev. Hope Benko based her sermon on this lesson. This reflection includes her timely message to us.

The events of the Passover and Exodus forged one people out of diverse Hebrew slaves in Egypt. The prescription for the ritual, however, presuppose that the people is already one. The people are expected to look after one another so that nobody is left out: “If a household is too small,” it shall join its neighbor. Nobody is discriminated against but the food is to be shared equally “in proportion to the number of people who eat of it.” And, as with the manna that God later gives his people, nothing may be hoarded: “anything that remains until the morning you shall burn.” Individuals and families, even before they begin their exodus from slavery, ritually live out their unity in their greater identity as God’s people.

            The Passover ritual we read in the bible passage above was established for all time; annually generations of family and friends gather to remember who they are and where they have been. Their individual stories come to the table to be taken up into the One Great Story.

But they gather to do more than remember the past. They point of Passover is not to remember and stay there, but to move into God’s future. Dressed in traveling clothes, they share a meal, ready to embark on the daring journey into the future to which God calls them.

Like those who gathered around the Passover lamb, Mother Hope said, we stand on the threshold. After much prayer and work, we have elected a new rector. Together with her, we will begin a new journey into a new life. We are called to bring our past—all that has made us who were for this very moment—forward into this journey. But we are moving into a new place, into a new identity possible only because of who God has made us and what God has done for us in our own sacred history. Although all change and newness is both exciting and a little scary, we remember that that God is both our companion and our goal.

13th Sunday after Pentecost, September 7, 2014

Psalm 149

Hallelujah! Sing to the LORD a new song; * sing his praise in the congregation of the faithful.

Let Israel rejoice in his Maker; * let the children of Zion be joyful in their King.

Let them praise his Name in the dance; * let them sing praise to him with timbrel and harp.

For the LORD takes pleasure in his people * and adorns the poor with victory

Let the faithful rejoice in triumph; * let them be joyful on their beds.

Let the praises of God be in their throat * and a two-edged sword in their hand;

To wreak vengeance on the nations * and punishment on the peoples;

To bind their kings in chains * and their nobles with links of iron;

To inflict on them the judgment decreed; * this is glory for all his faithful people. Hallelujah!

Reflections: What a mix this psalm gives us! It starts with this wonderful theme: we rejoice in God; God rejoices in us. But soon we find the themes of vengence and punishment—clear violations of the teachings of Jesus Christ. It is not our glory to inflict judgment—even if we think God is on our side. So what does this tell us about sacred scripture? If anything, it says that we must read the bible as a whole, and we must always read the Old Testament in light of the New.

Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 7, 2014

Epistle: Romans 13:8-14

Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet”; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

Reflections: What is convenient, what fits our preconceptions, what is socially acceptable, what makes business sense—these are peripheral concerns that must be subordinated to the Law of Love. The true test of our commitment to Christ comes when what we want contrasts with what God’s love demands. Let us beware the tendency to pretend to ourselves that the choices we want to make are actually expressions of love for the other. Love does not pretend to be either easy or convenient. But for all that, it lets us sleep at night.

Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 7, 2014

Gospel: Matthew 18:15-20

[Jesus said,] If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

Reflections: Jesus teaches us about how to deal with people who sin against us. What a far cry from the message of today’s psalm!

We don’t often actually think about punishment or vengeance—but many of us grumble, or talk behind someone’s back. We might say something sarcastic. Perhaps we are by nature quick to “nip things in the bud.” Or maybe we bear with grievances for a long time—until we lash out because we can no longer hold the anger in.

            So often the message of Jesus is on the side of patience and forbearance. But fortunately, Jesus also gives us a way to address injustice. Unlike the ways listed above that we easily slip into, Jesus’ ways to resolution is not through expressing our feelings.

Instead, Jesus calls us to make every effort to help one another in love. Rather than compounding abuse by “getting it out of our system,” he counsels meeting face to face and honest sharing. If that doesn’t work, we are to try again with the help of others. The goal is restoration in love, not punishment or exclusion.

But some groups demand not unity, but uniformity. They are capable of conformity of thinking, but not of the sort of “agreement” to which Jesus refers to at the end of the passage. To “agree” involves being “gathered in my name,” that is, in the mind and heart of Christ, where love is the ultimate mediator among us.

12th Sunday After Pentecost, August 31, 2014

The Hebrew Bible Reading: Exodus 3:1-15

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”

But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’: This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.

Reflections:  The name God gives to Moses is nothing like names we give. Scholars have tried to make sense if it: “I am who I am,” “I will be who I will be,” . . .  but that’s certainly not what we expect in a name, nor is it what Moses expects. Moses asks for God’s name much as we might ask someone’s name, expecting “Bob” or “Gertrude.” But that isn’t what he gets; God’s response is both confusing and mysterious.

Let’s deal the confusing part first. When we look closely at the text, we see that God seems to give two different answers; for that reason, scholars have detected different strands of the story, suggesting that it may have been told among multiple various audiences, and perhaps for different purposes. God’s first response to Moses’ question is simply enigmatic; we’ll come back to that one. In the second response, God self-identifies as the god of Moses’ ancestors. It’s a bit like introducing yourself to a child as her great-grandmother’s best friend—more a title or historical identity than a name. (and the story tells us that Moses already knows that, anyway). Much more interesting is God’s first answer.

God’s initial response to Moses is truly mysterious. In the Hebrew text, God’s name is spelled with all consonants, kind of like this: YHWH. Unlike our writing system, Hebrew and Arabic writing originally involved only consonants. Naturally, people pronounced vowels when they spoke—but there weren’t any vowel letters until much later. (Even now vowels are added as extra marks above or below the consonants.) The consequence of trying to read a name in all consonants? We don’t really know how to pronounce it.

Like many Hebrew names, God’s name has a meaning—much like the woman’s name “Faith” has a meaning. However, the vowels inserted into the Holy Name affect both the pronunciation and the meaning. Thus, YHWH is rendered into English in our Bible as “I am who I am” and “I will be who I will be.” (And what do you do with that?) Really, the name of God is not really reducible to any translation.

Is that a bad thing? The desire to pin down the name of God has led many leading Christian scholars to write and use the Holy Name as Yahweh—much like we might speak the name of our friend Bob. Alternatively, God’s name also appears in the story as I AM, although that seems more a proclamation than a go-by.

On the other hand, one can also take the Divine Name in all its mysteriousness and unpronounceability as a revelation of what that implies about God. In other words, the very obscurity of YHWH is itself revelation. This is the rationale behind the Jewish practice of reading YHWH as ha shem, “the Name.”

12th Sunday After Pentecost, August 31, 2014

The Epistle: Romans 12:9-21

Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.

     Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” No, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Reflections: Are you as surprised (or chagrined) as I am? My memory of St. Paul’s inspiring (if daunting) exhortations is virtually wiped out by his next-to-last line. To be kind to my enemies in order to “heap burning coals on their heads” could not sound more unchristian. Is this what Jesus had in mind in the sermon on the mount? I think not. To be fair, the church doubtless has found ways to understand this passage.

However, today I’m interested in exploring why this passage so scandalizes us.

First, we’re taught that the bible is the Word of God. But there are many different ways of understanding what that means, ranging from the direct dictation of God all the way to writings by human beings under various degrees of inspiration and insight.  The more we get to know the bible as a whole, the more we realize that it is complex and rich. In fact, the more we reflect on it, the more we see that interpretation is always a matter of the whole bible—not merely particular verses.

But besides the nature of scripture, our reaction to this Pauline passage tells us something about ourselves. It confronts us with the fact that we expect the saints to be perfect—and not just the saints. One of the most common complaints by people who don’t go to church is that we’re a bunch of hypocrites. This criticism reveals a common misconception, even within our own ranks: that we expect Christians to be perfect.

The fact is, however, to be Christian is to be in process, not to be finished. Alan Jones, former dean of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, says that we are each on a “journey into Christ.” And so, while we might be scandalized by St. Paul’s invective, we might also take heart that the saints—exactly like us—were imperfect. We are in process, for, as St. Paul says in Colossians, our life is “hid with Christ in God.”

12th Sunday After Pentecost, August 31, 2014
The Gospel: Matthew 16:21-28

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life? “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”

Reflections: Last Sunday Peter confessed Jesus as the Christ, and in response Jesus founded his church on the “rock” of Peter. Here, mere sentences later, Jesus calls him “Satan.” What gives? In these two gospel readings, we see the drama of discernment that is daily at play in our lives: God’s vision, or our own?

       As I see it, the problem is that we have a limited point of view, a limited understanding of the meaning of our lives, of tragedy and success, pain and joy. The challenge is not to resist a situation because it causes pain—or resign ourselves to a situation because “it is the will of God"—but to discern what is the will of God in every circumstance.

       So, how do we do this discernment thing? I suspect it is a practice that we grow into bit by bit. But one thing is apparent: our initial impressions of a situation do not give us the whole story. Perhaps truth is revealed to us as we teach our hearts to listen patiently in the midst of it all.