The Reading— Philippians 2: 4-8
Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too. You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.
Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.
The Gospel Reading: John 13: 1-17
Before the Passover celebration, Jesus knew that his hour had come to leave this world and return to God. He had loved his disciples during his ministry on earth, and now he loved them to the very end. It was time for supper, and the devil had already prompted Judas, son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that [God] had given him authority over everything and that he had come from God and would return to God. So he got up from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he had around him.
When Jesus came to Simon Peter, Peter said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus replied, “You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.” “No,” Peter protested, “you will never ever wash my feet!” Jesus replied, “Unless I wash you, you won’t belong to me.” Simon Peter exclaimed, “Then wash my hands and head as well, Lord, not just my feet!” Jesus replied, “A person who has bathed all over does not need to wash, except for the feet, to be entirely clean. And you disciples are clean, but not all of you.” For Jesus knew who would betray him. That is what he meant when he said, “Not all of you are clean.”
After washing their feet, he put on his robe again and sat down and asked, “Do you understand what I was doing? You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and you are right, because that’s what I am. And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you. I tell you the truth, [servants] are not greater than their master. Nor is the messenger more important than the one who sends the message. Now that you know these things, God will bless you for doing them.
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God, make us willing to become your servants. Teach us to love one another with a servant’s heart. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts bring you honor and glory. Amen
As many of you know, the Board and I with some other team leaders have just returned from a church size summit. It was an exciting 2 days—we learned much that we will want to share with you in the coming months and, although, I couldn’t have known it, today’s sermon somehow fits in with what we came away with.
Throughout the four Gospels, Peter gets a good bit of attention and not all of it good. But there are some interactions between Jesus and Peter, both in John’s Gospel and in others that might shed some light on Peter’s reaction to Jesus’ actions in this passage, the passage that will conclude our study of John this summer. Now, those of you who follow the liturgical calendar may find my choice of passages confusing. It is true that we most often study the practice of foot-washing on Maundy Thursday or some other time during Lent or Holy Week. I believe that if we limit the profound truth inherent in this passage, though, we miss a crucial message in the Good News itself.
Peter, according to most accounts, was one of the first 3 or 4 disciples chosen by Jesus. Peter is the only disciple whose name is changed by Jesus. The story in the first chapter of John goes like this: “Andrew, Simon’s [Peter's] brother, was one of the two who heard John's witness and followed Jesus. The first thing he did after finding where Jesus lived was find his own brother, Simon, telling him, "We've found the Messiah" (that is, "Christ"). He immediately led him to Jesus. Jesus took one look and said, "You're John's son, Simon? From now on your name is Cephas" (or Peter, which means "Rock"). There is no real explanation of why Jesus changes Simon’s name to Peter, but since we know how the story ends, we can see that Jesus is laying the groundwork, or the foundation, for the community that would be left on this earth after he returned to God.
At one point, somewhat early in the ministry, things are really difficult for the disciples and for Jesus. Many were walking away at this point—finding it too difficult to follow Jesus’ radical break with tradition. Jesus gave the Twelve their chance: "Do you also want to leave?"
It is Peter who replied, "Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life. We've already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God."
Jesus responded, "Haven't I handpicked you, the Twelve?”
Peter, as one of the chosen disciples, would have been present during all of the miracles that are recorded in the Gospel of John and elsewhere. He would have heard all the teachings. He would have known that Jesus had declared himself to be the light of the world, the bread and water for spiritually hungry and thirsty people. Though John does not record it, we know through Matthew’s telling that Peter was the one disciple who trusted Jesus enough to attempt to come to him by walking on the water as Jesus was doing. Peter fails in his fear, but knows enough to call out to Jesus to save him.
Peter was with Jesus at the moment of his transfiguration atop the mountain. Peter, lovable risk-taking Peter, is jubilant at having witnessed this moment and in his excitement misses the spiritual meaning of the event as he is busy planning to build monuments to commemorate the moment.
While found in Matthew’s Gospel, though not in John’s, it is Peter whom Jesus declares to be the rock of his church. Peter is consecrated, right then and there, as the leader of Jesus’ followers after he departs.
And, so, close to the time of the end of Jesus’ ministry and time on earth, the Disciples and Jesus are gathered to celebrate Passover. One by one, Jesus is washing the feet of the Disciples. Now, in itself, the washing of feet would not have been uncommon in that time and place. People, if they had shoes at all, would have worn sandals. Roads were dirt, and people and animals shared the road which created a certain problem, if you know what I mean. It was common courtesy to wash the feet of your visitors. What was unusual and unsettling for the Disciples is the Who in the story. Cultural norms would have required that someone of servant or student status wash and dry the feet of those gathered there. In fact, it would have not only been a servant, it would have been the lowliest servant of the household who would have this inevitably dirty task. And, although this was a private gathering where there would have been no servants, what Jesus is doing is completely out of order. So Peter would have been extremely confused as he watched Jesus take on this role.
Put yourself in the role of Peter and the other disciples. What in the world was Jesus doing now? Surely, he knew that this task was far beneath him. He was their teacher, they his students. What he is doing is very unteacherlike. They wait for an explanation as one by one they submit to this process. All of a sudden, it is Peter’s turn. All the other disciples appear to be shocked into mute acceptance of Jesus’ actions. But not Peter, when Jesus bends down to wash Peter’s feet, Peter exclaims, "Lord, are You washing my feet?" Jesus simply says, “You cannot understand what I am doing now, but later you will”. Later was not satisfying impetuous Peter. He protested that Jesus should not undertake this lowly, dirty job. “You’re not washing my feet.” Jesus, with love and calmness replies, “If I don’t wash your feet, then you will have no part in me.” So, Peter, in a jump of attitude that would shock anyone, says, “Then not just my feet, wash all of me.” Jesus replies, “because you have already bathed, you need only have your feet washed and you will be clean.” Now, with the wonder of hindsight, we know that Jesus is speaking completely in spiritual metaphors. But these metaphors caused great confusion among the disciples. Without the insight of the Holy Spirit, the disciples could not understand everything until later. Jesus asks them, "Do you understand what I have done to you? You address me as 'Teacher' and I appreciate that because I am your Teacher. Since I, your Teacher have washed your feet, you must now be willing to wash each others’ feet. This is an example of how you are to treat each other. A servant is not ranked above the master; and vice versa”. And then, the requisite and expected call to action from Jesus: “If you understand what I'm telling you, act like it—and live a blessed life”.
Now there is both relief and burden in knowing how the story ends. The relief part is obvious. Jesus is Lord and rises again in defeat of death and evil. But the burden is real. It is painfully clear what Jesus is suggesting. With no regard to status or title, we are to take on the tasks that usually belong to the outcast or bottom of the barrel folks and do these tasks joyfully for each other. No one who follows Christ is to set themselves above any other human being or group of human beings. God blesses those whose commitment to others leads them to countless ways of serving as conduits for divine love and grace.
Many churches believe that Jesus’ actions on that night are to be followed in actual rituals. In other words, we should literally wash each others’ feet in a service set aside for that purpose. You’ve got to know by now, that I do not agree with that interpretation. I am not saying that ritual foot-washing cannot be meaningful for we are people with real bodies and we think in physical, corporeal ways. Nevertheless, if we confine foot-washing to a once a year event, we lose the broader meaning behind the action; and, we have missed the significance of what Jesus is saying in this passage. The disciples were familiar with the act of foot-washing and the need for it; but Jesus turned their actual experience of foot-washing upside down and told them to follow his example. Jesus is calling us to understand the heart of his servanthood. Not only would he lay down his life, soon after this occurrence, he also wanted his followers to understand the truest, purest form of his message—service and obedience to God which shows itself through service to and love for others. Serving others in this way does not limit our giving, nor does it promise any rewards.
Though rarely followed, Jesus is here revealing a living out of the spiritual life, through the gift of grace, that insures that no one is left behind or left out. How do I know that we—that is we humans, everywhere—are not following this kind of spiritual life?—because there are left out and left behind people at every turn in our lives. So, IF we are to follow Christ and live out Christ’s spirituality of servanthood, we have some serious questions to ask ourselves. Will we as individuals and as a church consciously choose and intentionally live out a life of outgoing, humble service toward others, or will we be content to live out our lives satisfied with the joy of worship and pleasure of fellowship in our lives?
In the last image of Jesus that appears in the Gospel of John there is a conversation between Jesus and Peter. It is the third time that John records Jesus’ appearance after the resurrection; they are again at a meal. After they dine, Jesus says to Peter, “Do you love me?” Peter assures him that he does and Jesus says, “Feed my lambs”. Jesus asks again, “Do you love me?” Again Peter assures him that this is so. “Feed my sheep”, responds Jesus. One last time, Jesus asks, “Do you love me?” Peter, wondering where Jesus is going with this, says, “Jesus you know all things, so you know that I love you”. One last time, Jesus responds, “Feed my sheep”. And this we know for sure, if we love him, we will feed his sheep. And Jesus says, “follow me”. Amen and amen.
Welcome!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
New Sight, New Light 8-19-12
The Reading— Acts 9: 3-19 (portions)
[Paul] set off. When he got to the outskirts of Damascus, he was suddenly dazed by a blinding flash of light. As he fell to the ground, he heard a voice: "Saul, Saul, why are you out to get me?" He said, "Who are you, Master?" "I am Jesus, the One you're hunting down. I want you to get up and enter the city…” His companions stood there dumbstruck—they could hear the sound, but couldn't see anyone—while Saul, picking himself up off the ground, found himself stone-blind. They had to take him by the hand and lead him into Damascus. He continued blind for three days. He ate nothing, drank nothing.
There was a disciple in Damascus by the name of Ananias. The Master spoke to him in a vision: "Ananias." "Yes, Master?" he answered. "Get up and go over to Straight Avenue. Ask at the house of Judas for a man from Tarsus. His name is Saul. He's there praying. He has just had a dream in which he saw a man named Ananias enter the house and lay hands on him so he could see again." Ananias protested, "Master, you can't be serious. Everybody's talking about this man and the terrible things he's been doing”,… But Jesus said, "Don't argue. Go! …So Ananias went and found the house, placed his hands on blind Saul, and said, "Brother Saul, the Master sent me, the same Jesus you saw on your way here. He sent me so you could see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit." No sooner were the words out of his mouth than something like scales fell from Saul's eyes—he could see again!”
The Gospel Reading: John 9: 1-11
Walking down the street, Jesus saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked, "Rabbi, who sinned: this man or his parents, causing him to be born blind?" Jesus said, "You're asking the wrong question. You're looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do. We need to be energetically at work for the One who sent me here, working while the sun shines. When night falls, the workday is over. For as long as I am in the world, there is plenty of light. I am the world's Light." He said this and then spit in the dust, made a clay paste with the saliva, rubbed the paste on the blind man's eyes, and said, "Go, wash at the Pool of Siloam" (Siloam means "Sent"). The man went and washed—and saw.
Soon the town was buzzing. His relatives and those who year after year had seen him as a blind man begging were saying, "Why, isn't this the man we knew, who sat here and begged?" Others said, "It's him all right!" But others objected, "It's not the same man at all. It just looks like him." He said, "It's me, the very one." They said, "How did your eyes get opened?" "A man named Jesus made a paste and rubbed it on my eyes and told me, 'Go to Siloam and wash.' I did what he said. When I washed, I saw."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God, we turn to you for understanding and transformation. Guide us this day and may my words and our thoughts be attuned to your Holy Spirit. Amen
All of the stories of Jesus’ healings are impressive but this story is full of layers of truth and theological meaning. It is also a story that it is easily misunderstood as shown by the confusion of the disciples and in later verses the Jewish authorities. This story follows a passage in John we did not study—let’s just say, it was not going well for Jesus. If we were to examine the context of this story, we would find Jesus just barely escaping stoning at the end of the eighth chapter of John. He slips away and we pick up the story where we find Jesus walking down the street. He comes across a beggar who was blind from birth. Though often missed, this is an important element of the story. The wisdom of the day suggested that handicaps, disabilities, or difficult situations were most often punishment meted out by a vengeful God who made people “pay” for their sins. We could, of course, say that the conventional wisdom of today is not so much different. Everything from AIDS to poverty to world hunger has been blamed on God who supposedly is punishing those who are different from who others think they should be.
Because the man has been born blind, the disciples have a bit of a conundrum to work through. And so, they ask Jesus, “why was this man born blind—because of his sins or the sins of his parents?” Jesus says quickly, “you are asking the wrong question. While looking for someone to blame you have completely missed the opportunity to see what God can do to ease the burden of blindness this man has carried from birth.” Oh, uh, not the answer we were looking for—surely someone is to blame. When bad things happen, even today, even in this church so full of joy and anticipation of good, we can stumble and look for reasons, someone or something to blame when things don’t go the way we had planned. And in this one answer, Jesus settles for us the question that we allow to eat at us, to gnaw at us, rather than looking for what God can do now. I know that there are those of you sitting here today or reading this sermon later who will be unsettled by what Jesus says. As we retrain our hearts to turn away from blame, we will naturally find room to explore God’s miracles, great and small, in our current situation and in the situation of others. And, in the first miracle, we find the energy to work for God and all the children of God.
So, let’s return to the miracle about to unfold in this story. Jesus spits in the dust, makes a clay paste with the saliva, rubs the paste on the blind man's eyes, and says, "Go, wash at the Pool of Siloam". The man went and washed—and saw. Sometimes Jesus used parables to show us the truth—sometimes the truth was shone through actual events such as this one. This event was, for both the man and his community, a miracle. But there is lots going on behind, in the midst of, and beyond a simple miracle. Along with the formerly blind man, three groups of people were being encouraged to see things in a new light, if you will.
First, there were the disciples—blinded by their own lack of theological understanding. “You’re asking the wrong question,” Jesus says. How often are we so immature in the faith that, not only do we come up with the wrong answer, we don’t even have the knowledge to ask the right question. Caught in the morass of blame-seeking, they were unable to see the glory that God was about to display. Jesus wanted his disciples then, and I believe, now, to begin asking the right questions—questions like how can God change this situation—how can God use me to bring hope, or transformation, or light to this or that situation, and, to whom belongs the glory for what is about to happen? God, perhaps? God, of course. Pushing ourselves beyond the need to blame and shame, we find ourselves in new territory—territory made bright by the light of God.
Second, there were the people in the man’s community. They were made blind by their denial—they saw what they saw and, yet, they could not bring themselves to believe. Do we not use denial in similar ways? We see a need, an opportunity or place where we could fill the gap. But, we do not want to make the effort to respond to such enlightenment, and so we deny it in several ways. First, we may deny that the need even exists; and, secondly, we may deny that we have the skills, abilities, funds, or wherewithal, to allow God to use us to ameliorate or improve the situation. In psychology, denial is a defense mechanism—a form of thinking we utilize, consciously or not—to avoid being present to the issue at hand. In theology, or our understanding of God, it is not so different—if we remain blind to what God wants to do in our lives, we avoid the light of God’s truth altogether.
A little later on in the story, the third form of blindness appears. The Jewish authorities hear of this miracle and can think of only one thing. Jesus has broken the Law. Since this was the Sabbath, the doing of any work was prohibited. According to a strict understanding of such a prohibition, Jesus, when he made paste from the mud and spit, worked. They could see nothing else. Their blindness of righteous indignation allowed them to declare that Jesus was a sinner, and, as such, could not have performed any miracle, much less one of this magnitude. We will always have those who are blinded by the Law or a sense of legalism which precludes seeing the miracle for the miracle that it is. Nevertheless, Jesus calls us to expose the darkness of legalism, denial, and immaturity through the light that he brings to this world. “I am the light of the world” says this Jesus, worker of miracles, bringer of new sight and new light.
Of course, one can make a metaphor of this story, and it’s not a bad thing to do. The “blindness” of the man’s eyes can represent the blindness of our hearts. But Jesus is there, offering us the light of freedom from the Law, revitalization of our lives and the knowledge that we need to proceed. The man himself, living out the miracle, does not look for a sophisticated answer to the people’s question. “I was blind, a man named Jesus put mud on my eyes and told me to wash. When I washed, I saw.” The Pharisees tried to get him to say more, but there was no more to his understanding at the time. He knew the truth—he followed what Jesus told him to do and, in an instant, he saw.
Interestingly enough, after the temple authorities questioned the man who could now see, they threw him out of the Temple. He was rejected when blind, made to beg for the necessities of his life; and, when restored to wholeness, he was rejected for being a part of something too big for them to understand. He found himself alone again, except for Jesus who sought him out. When he found him, Jesus asked the man if he believed in the Messiah. The man, in his innocence said, “Who is he, sir?” the man asked. “Tell me so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said, “You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.” Then the man said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. And, then, Jesus explained it all at once: “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.” The ever-present Pharisees reacted to his declaration: “What? Are we blind too?” You can almost hear them sputtering and hopping around in their rage. Jesus, answered them simply, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains”.
When, we allow God to open the eyes of our hearts and see, we have faith just as the man born blind. We can even see that God is working when we don’t know why or how. Much of the time, we hold on to the blindness as a shield against the change God wants to bring to our lives. We feel secure, wrapped in our blanket of sameness and status quo. We hold on to old ways of being and giving and praising, because we are comfortable and just a little afraid of what it will feel like if we allow God to enable us to see with new eyes and new sight. Jesus, though, is all about this new way of seeing—to understand that our health problems or losses do not occur because of our sins, to push past denial to a new way of thinking, to live in grace instead of blame and shame. New sight will give us the ability to perceive God’s grace—to comprehend the very best in our healed selves and in the healed and whole selves of others. We do not serve a vengeful, punishing God—we serve a God who loves us and calls us to a life of grace.
Nietzsche, a philosopher, who did not hesitate to critique Christianity once said, “You Christians should look more redeemed.” We serve a God who calls us to dance in the light with Jesus, the Lord of the dance, and to open our eyes, to stay alert for the opportunities to praise God for the miracles in our lives and to stay ready to be the miracle that brings sight to the blind and healing to the hopeless. We serve a God who calls us to dance! Amen and Amen
[Paul] set off. When he got to the outskirts of Damascus, he was suddenly dazed by a blinding flash of light. As he fell to the ground, he heard a voice: "Saul, Saul, why are you out to get me?" He said, "Who are you, Master?" "I am Jesus, the One you're hunting down. I want you to get up and enter the city…” His companions stood there dumbstruck—they could hear the sound, but couldn't see anyone—while Saul, picking himself up off the ground, found himself stone-blind. They had to take him by the hand and lead him into Damascus. He continued blind for three days. He ate nothing, drank nothing.
There was a disciple in Damascus by the name of Ananias. The Master spoke to him in a vision: "Ananias." "Yes, Master?" he answered. "Get up and go over to Straight Avenue. Ask at the house of Judas for a man from Tarsus. His name is Saul. He's there praying. He has just had a dream in which he saw a man named Ananias enter the house and lay hands on him so he could see again." Ananias protested, "Master, you can't be serious. Everybody's talking about this man and the terrible things he's been doing”,… But Jesus said, "Don't argue. Go! …So Ananias went and found the house, placed his hands on blind Saul, and said, "Brother Saul, the Master sent me, the same Jesus you saw on your way here. He sent me so you could see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit." No sooner were the words out of his mouth than something like scales fell from Saul's eyes—he could see again!”
The Gospel Reading: John 9: 1-11
Walking down the street, Jesus saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked, "Rabbi, who sinned: this man or his parents, causing him to be born blind?" Jesus said, "You're asking the wrong question. You're looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do. We need to be energetically at work for the One who sent me here, working while the sun shines. When night falls, the workday is over. For as long as I am in the world, there is plenty of light. I am the world's Light." He said this and then spit in the dust, made a clay paste with the saliva, rubbed the paste on the blind man's eyes, and said, "Go, wash at the Pool of Siloam" (Siloam means "Sent"). The man went and washed—and saw.
Soon the town was buzzing. His relatives and those who year after year had seen him as a blind man begging were saying, "Why, isn't this the man we knew, who sat here and begged?" Others said, "It's him all right!" But others objected, "It's not the same man at all. It just looks like him." He said, "It's me, the very one." They said, "How did your eyes get opened?" "A man named Jesus made a paste and rubbed it on my eyes and told me, 'Go to Siloam and wash.' I did what he said. When I washed, I saw."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God, we turn to you for understanding and transformation. Guide us this day and may my words and our thoughts be attuned to your Holy Spirit. Amen
All of the stories of Jesus’ healings are impressive but this story is full of layers of truth and theological meaning. It is also a story that it is easily misunderstood as shown by the confusion of the disciples and in later verses the Jewish authorities. This story follows a passage in John we did not study—let’s just say, it was not going well for Jesus. If we were to examine the context of this story, we would find Jesus just barely escaping stoning at the end of the eighth chapter of John. He slips away and we pick up the story where we find Jesus walking down the street. He comes across a beggar who was blind from birth. Though often missed, this is an important element of the story. The wisdom of the day suggested that handicaps, disabilities, or difficult situations were most often punishment meted out by a vengeful God who made people “pay” for their sins. We could, of course, say that the conventional wisdom of today is not so much different. Everything from AIDS to poverty to world hunger has been blamed on God who supposedly is punishing those who are different from who others think they should be.
Because the man has been born blind, the disciples have a bit of a conundrum to work through. And so, they ask Jesus, “why was this man born blind—because of his sins or the sins of his parents?” Jesus says quickly, “you are asking the wrong question. While looking for someone to blame you have completely missed the opportunity to see what God can do to ease the burden of blindness this man has carried from birth.” Oh, uh, not the answer we were looking for—surely someone is to blame. When bad things happen, even today, even in this church so full of joy and anticipation of good, we can stumble and look for reasons, someone or something to blame when things don’t go the way we had planned. And in this one answer, Jesus settles for us the question that we allow to eat at us, to gnaw at us, rather than looking for what God can do now. I know that there are those of you sitting here today or reading this sermon later who will be unsettled by what Jesus says. As we retrain our hearts to turn away from blame, we will naturally find room to explore God’s miracles, great and small, in our current situation and in the situation of others. And, in the first miracle, we find the energy to work for God and all the children of God.
So, let’s return to the miracle about to unfold in this story. Jesus spits in the dust, makes a clay paste with the saliva, rubs the paste on the blind man's eyes, and says, "Go, wash at the Pool of Siloam". The man went and washed—and saw. Sometimes Jesus used parables to show us the truth—sometimes the truth was shone through actual events such as this one. This event was, for both the man and his community, a miracle. But there is lots going on behind, in the midst of, and beyond a simple miracle. Along with the formerly blind man, three groups of people were being encouraged to see things in a new light, if you will.
First, there were the disciples—blinded by their own lack of theological understanding. “You’re asking the wrong question,” Jesus says. How often are we so immature in the faith that, not only do we come up with the wrong answer, we don’t even have the knowledge to ask the right question. Caught in the morass of blame-seeking, they were unable to see the glory that God was about to display. Jesus wanted his disciples then, and I believe, now, to begin asking the right questions—questions like how can God change this situation—how can God use me to bring hope, or transformation, or light to this or that situation, and, to whom belongs the glory for what is about to happen? God, perhaps? God, of course. Pushing ourselves beyond the need to blame and shame, we find ourselves in new territory—territory made bright by the light of God.
Second, there were the people in the man’s community. They were made blind by their denial—they saw what they saw and, yet, they could not bring themselves to believe. Do we not use denial in similar ways? We see a need, an opportunity or place where we could fill the gap. But, we do not want to make the effort to respond to such enlightenment, and so we deny it in several ways. First, we may deny that the need even exists; and, secondly, we may deny that we have the skills, abilities, funds, or wherewithal, to allow God to use us to ameliorate or improve the situation. In psychology, denial is a defense mechanism—a form of thinking we utilize, consciously or not—to avoid being present to the issue at hand. In theology, or our understanding of God, it is not so different—if we remain blind to what God wants to do in our lives, we avoid the light of God’s truth altogether.
A little later on in the story, the third form of blindness appears. The Jewish authorities hear of this miracle and can think of only one thing. Jesus has broken the Law. Since this was the Sabbath, the doing of any work was prohibited. According to a strict understanding of such a prohibition, Jesus, when he made paste from the mud and spit, worked. They could see nothing else. Their blindness of righteous indignation allowed them to declare that Jesus was a sinner, and, as such, could not have performed any miracle, much less one of this magnitude. We will always have those who are blinded by the Law or a sense of legalism which precludes seeing the miracle for the miracle that it is. Nevertheless, Jesus calls us to expose the darkness of legalism, denial, and immaturity through the light that he brings to this world. “I am the light of the world” says this Jesus, worker of miracles, bringer of new sight and new light.
Of course, one can make a metaphor of this story, and it’s not a bad thing to do. The “blindness” of the man’s eyes can represent the blindness of our hearts. But Jesus is there, offering us the light of freedom from the Law, revitalization of our lives and the knowledge that we need to proceed. The man himself, living out the miracle, does not look for a sophisticated answer to the people’s question. “I was blind, a man named Jesus put mud on my eyes and told me to wash. When I washed, I saw.” The Pharisees tried to get him to say more, but there was no more to his understanding at the time. He knew the truth—he followed what Jesus told him to do and, in an instant, he saw.
Interestingly enough, after the temple authorities questioned the man who could now see, they threw him out of the Temple. He was rejected when blind, made to beg for the necessities of his life; and, when restored to wholeness, he was rejected for being a part of something too big for them to understand. He found himself alone again, except for Jesus who sought him out. When he found him, Jesus asked the man if he believed in the Messiah. The man, in his innocence said, “Who is he, sir?” the man asked. “Tell me so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said, “You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.” Then the man said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. And, then, Jesus explained it all at once: “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.” The ever-present Pharisees reacted to his declaration: “What? Are we blind too?” You can almost hear them sputtering and hopping around in their rage. Jesus, answered them simply, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains”.
When, we allow God to open the eyes of our hearts and see, we have faith just as the man born blind. We can even see that God is working when we don’t know why or how. Much of the time, we hold on to the blindness as a shield against the change God wants to bring to our lives. We feel secure, wrapped in our blanket of sameness and status quo. We hold on to old ways of being and giving and praising, because we are comfortable and just a little afraid of what it will feel like if we allow God to enable us to see with new eyes and new sight. Jesus, though, is all about this new way of seeing—to understand that our health problems or losses do not occur because of our sins, to push past denial to a new way of thinking, to live in grace instead of blame and shame. New sight will give us the ability to perceive God’s grace—to comprehend the very best in our healed selves and in the healed and whole selves of others. We do not serve a vengeful, punishing God—we serve a God who loves us and calls us to a life of grace.
Nietzsche, a philosopher, who did not hesitate to critique Christianity once said, “You Christians should look more redeemed.” We serve a God who calls us to dance in the light with Jesus, the Lord of the dance, and to open our eyes, to stay alert for the opportunities to praise God for the miracles in our lives and to stay ready to be the miracle that brings sight to the blind and healing to the hopeless. We serve a God who calls us to dance! Amen and Amen
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Writing in the Dirt 8-5-12
The Reading—James 2: 8-13
You do well when you complete the Royal Rule of the Scriptures: "Love others as you love yourself." But if you play up to these so-called important people, you go against the Rule and stand convicted by it. You can't pick and choose in these things, specializing in keeping one or two things in God's law and ignoring others. The same God who said, "Don't commit adultery," also said, "Don't murder." If you don't commit adultery but go ahead and murder, do you think your non-adultery will cancel out your murder? No, you're a murderer, period. Talk and act like a person expecting to be judged by the Rule that sets us free. For if you refuse to act kindly, you can hardly expect to be treated kindly. Kind mercy wins over harsh judgment every time.
The Gospel Reading: John 8: 1-19
Jesus went across to Mount Olives, but he was soon back in the Temple again. Swarms of people came to him. He sat down and taught them. The religion scholars and Pharisees led in a woman who had been caught in an act of adultery. They stood her in plain sight of everyone and said, "Teacher, this woman was caught red-handed in the act of adultery. Moses, in the Law, gives orders to stone such persons. What do you say?" They were trying to trap him into saying something incriminating so they could bring charges against him.
Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger in the dirt. They kept at him, badgering him. He straightened up and said, "The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone." Bending down again, he wrote some more in the dirt.
Hearing that, they walked away, one after another, beginning with the oldest. The woman was left alone. Jesus stood up and spoke to her. "Woman, where are they? Does no one condemn you?" “No one, Master." "Neither do I," said Jesus. "Go on your way. From now on, don't sin."
Jesus once again addressed them: "I am the world's Light. No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness. I provide plenty of light to live in." The Pharisees objected, "All we have is your word on this. We need more than this to go on."
Jesus replied, "You're right that you only have my word. But you can depend on it being true. I know where I've come from and where I go next. You don't know where I'm from or where I'm headed. You decide according to what you can see and touch. I don't make judgments like that. But even if I did, my judgment would be true because I wouldn't make it out of the narrowness of my experience but in the largeness of the One who sent me, God. That fulfills the conditions set down in God's Law: that you can count on the testimony of two witnesses. And that is what you have: You have my word and you have the word of God who sent me." They said, "Where is this so-called God of yours?" Jesus said, "You're looking right at me and you don't see me. How do you expect to see God? If you knew me, you would at the same time know God."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Holy and everlasting God, bring us to a fuller knowledge of your generous and loving welcome. Show us how to extend that same welcome to all who enter our lives and our church’s life. May my words reflect your Truth and our thoughts inhabit your praise. Amen
This is an amazing story and we all love it—the sin, the sexiness of the story, Jesus silently scribbling in the dirt while all the powers that be yelled and screamed and, in general, made fools of themselves. And, finally, Jesus gives us what we’ve all been waiting for—forgiveness and a clean slate upon which to write the remainder of our, oops, meant to say, “her” life. From start to finish, this is a story that calls us to re-examine the nature of every relationship in our lives.
First, let’s set the stage that this story plays itself upon. Jesus has returned to Jerusalem after going to the Mt. of Olives and is teaching again in the Temple. Swarms or people are vying for a place at his feet to hear him speak—standing perhaps all day, just wanting to be close enough to hear this Teacher of teachers speak. Suddenly, the cloud parts as the Jewish rulers callously drag a woman, bruised and frightened, and plop her on her feet in front of Jesus. Can’t you just see her—eyes red from crying, her head hung low out of shame—perhaps not shame for what she has done, but , at least, shame at having been treated like this. “Here you go, Jesus, here is a woman that was caught in the very act (can’t you hear the crowd gasp?) of adultery. The Law of Moses orders her to be stoned. What do you say, O Teacher, who claims to be related somehow to God?” Jesus, who took them all by surprise, followers and adversaries alike, kneels and writes in the dirt. This infuriates the scholars and Pharisees, who begin to raise a ruckus. I envision them much like the crowd at a baseball game when they begin to taunt the batter who is trying to focus on the ball. So Jesus continues to write in the dirt. Finally, when he is ready, he stands and says, “Anybody here who has never sinned? If so, go ahead and throw the first stone.” And then he leans down and continues to write in the dirt. Although the scripture doesn’t say so explicitly, I have always envisioned Jesus as close enough to the woman as to be taking a chance of getting hit, should someone have had the arrogance to believe that they were sinless. However, one by one, from the oldest to the youngest, they slip away. In fact, it appears that everyone, save the woman, slips away. Jesus, stands up and says to her, “where are all your accusers? Does anyone condemn you?” “No one, Teacher,” says the woman. Jesus responds, “Then I don’t condemn you either, go your way and do not continue to sin.”
Llook at the various levels of relationship that appear in this brief story. First, Jesus is found in the Temple teaching. Jesus seems to be always available to those who seek to know the Truth. And so, here he is, day after day, teaching in the Temple. There would have been all kinds of folks there, the Temple was a much more of a social center than say, this Temple is. It would have rarely been empty and those seeking Truth would have come to the Temple to learn. And, the Truth they find is Jesus. We may find ourselves as seekers as well. As seekers, longing for more knowledge of Jesus, these folk are in right relationship with God and in their own hearts.
The Jewish leaders enter and the crowd parts. The crowd would have done this partly out of respect and partly out of fear. And, let us not forget, curiosity. This would have been quite a scene in this busy, yet sacred space. The crowd steps a few steps back, wanting to give Jesus and these rulers some room. Perhaps fearing the stones that the Pharisees carried in readiness for the intended stoning, stepping back seemed a wise thing to do. Now, it is not clear that the Pharisees intended to stone this woman at all. In fact, common practice would suggest that they did not intend such a thing. While the penalty of stoning for adultery was found in the Law of Moses, there seems to be few times that the penalty was carried out throughout history. So it would seem that their true intention was to put Jesus into a place where there would be no ‘right’ answer and to set him up for their judgment. If, as scholars suggest, this whole scene was a ‘set-up’, the relationship of these rulers to the Law was questionable as well as their dishonesty, through their trickery, with the people, the woman, and Jesus.
It must have been infuriating to the Jewish leaders that Jesus did not respond to them. We don’t know what Jesus was writing in the dirt, doesn’t seem to play much of a role in the story. But his actions served the purpose of inciting the rulers to riot. After Jesus allows the rulers to be seen for the hypocrites that they were, he stands up and pronounces “judgment” as it were. “Are any of you without sin? If so, boldly cast the first stone”, he says and kneels down to continue writing. As often happens when Jesus is teaching, there is a strange twist in the story at this point. The rulers are asking Jesus to pronounce judgment on the woman; instead, He pronounces judgment on them. By raising the right question at just the right moment, Jesus gave the gift of divine insight even to those who sought to entrap him. Knowing that they are not without sin, they slink away. The Law of Moses—never intended to be used in trickery or scam—was given to the people of God to guide them in their search for Godliness. Jesus calls the so-called scholars and rulers to account for their wrong relationship to the Law and we see them turn, in disappointment, I would think, and walk away.
And, so, we are left with the woman and Jesus. Unnamed and unclaimed, she waits to hear her sentence from Jesus who now speaks only to her. When she tells him that no one is left to condemn her, he grants her divine forgiveness and reconciliation and tells her to cease her sinning. Jesus calls her, as only Jesus can, to right the several relationships in her life that are put in jeopardy by unfaithful acts. Obviously, her relationship with her husband has been rendered dishonest by her illicit behavior with those to whom she is not married or committed. But, it is not about the sex. Let me repeat that, it is not about the sex. Certainly there are those who believe and wish to believe that it is about the sex. It makes for a better, juicer story, and it is always easier to cease an action than it is to do the hard work of righting relationships. Rather than the sex itself, the real damage is the series of broken relationships that are her responsibility to mend. Broken also is the relationship between herself and her spirit. This is a defeated woman and it seems likely that this is the real reason she did not run away when all the others left. In reality, her life was a mess. In Jesus’ presence, freed from blame and shame, she comes to terms with those relationships she must now make right. Her dishonest relationship with both her husband and those with whom she engaged in extra-marital affairs had taken its toll; and, she is prepared to learn a new way of behaving, one free from deceit and guilt. And, so, she accepts Jesus’ ‘verdict’ and begins, from that moment on, to put her relationships back in order and restore her relationships with the people in her life, with herself, and with God.
But, what, you still ask, was Jesus writing in the dirt? I would like to know that as well. Some say it was the Ten Commandments. Some say he was writing the New Commandment. And some say he was drawing pictures or merely doodling. I believe that he was praying—praying for the woman and for the Jewish leaders to see the brokenness of their actions and behaviors. I believe that Jesus was communing with God throughout the entire time—that he was maintaining his right relationship with his divine parent. What would happen if we were able to do the same? What if, when we are confronted with malice, and what the Jewish leaders tried to do was certainly malicious—what if, we could calmly continue or heighten our relationship by praying, talking, writing, or singing to God while we wait for God’s response to the viciousness or evil. What would have happened if Jesus were as argumentative as most of us? The rush to pronounce judgment on the Pharisees would have precluded any hint of healing or reconciliation. Jesus, when confronted with the very real possibility of violence responded with patience and peace. When we are confronted with the violence of broken relationships, God calls us, as Jesus models for us, that we are to remain firm in our relationship with God, ourselves, and others—quietly so. And as we learn to ask the right questions at just the right time, we are invited to participate in the incoming of God’s reign of justice and hope. Amen and amen.
You do well when you complete the Royal Rule of the Scriptures: "Love others as you love yourself." But if you play up to these so-called important people, you go against the Rule and stand convicted by it. You can't pick and choose in these things, specializing in keeping one or two things in God's law and ignoring others. The same God who said, "Don't commit adultery," also said, "Don't murder." If you don't commit adultery but go ahead and murder, do you think your non-adultery will cancel out your murder? No, you're a murderer, period. Talk and act like a person expecting to be judged by the Rule that sets us free. For if you refuse to act kindly, you can hardly expect to be treated kindly. Kind mercy wins over harsh judgment every time.
The Gospel Reading: John 8: 1-19
Jesus went across to Mount Olives, but he was soon back in the Temple again. Swarms of people came to him. He sat down and taught them. The religion scholars and Pharisees led in a woman who had been caught in an act of adultery. They stood her in plain sight of everyone and said, "Teacher, this woman was caught red-handed in the act of adultery. Moses, in the Law, gives orders to stone such persons. What do you say?" They were trying to trap him into saying something incriminating so they could bring charges against him.
Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger in the dirt. They kept at him, badgering him. He straightened up and said, "The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone." Bending down again, he wrote some more in the dirt.
Hearing that, they walked away, one after another, beginning with the oldest. The woman was left alone. Jesus stood up and spoke to her. "Woman, where are they? Does no one condemn you?" “No one, Master." "Neither do I," said Jesus. "Go on your way. From now on, don't sin."
Jesus once again addressed them: "I am the world's Light. No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness. I provide plenty of light to live in." The Pharisees objected, "All we have is your word on this. We need more than this to go on."
Jesus replied, "You're right that you only have my word. But you can depend on it being true. I know where I've come from and where I go next. You don't know where I'm from or where I'm headed. You decide according to what you can see and touch. I don't make judgments like that. But even if I did, my judgment would be true because I wouldn't make it out of the narrowness of my experience but in the largeness of the One who sent me, God. That fulfills the conditions set down in God's Law: that you can count on the testimony of two witnesses. And that is what you have: You have my word and you have the word of God who sent me." They said, "Where is this so-called God of yours?" Jesus said, "You're looking right at me and you don't see me. How do you expect to see God? If you knew me, you would at the same time know God."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Holy and everlasting God, bring us to a fuller knowledge of your generous and loving welcome. Show us how to extend that same welcome to all who enter our lives and our church’s life. May my words reflect your Truth and our thoughts inhabit your praise. Amen
This is an amazing story and we all love it—the sin, the sexiness of the story, Jesus silently scribbling in the dirt while all the powers that be yelled and screamed and, in general, made fools of themselves. And, finally, Jesus gives us what we’ve all been waiting for—forgiveness and a clean slate upon which to write the remainder of our, oops, meant to say, “her” life. From start to finish, this is a story that calls us to re-examine the nature of every relationship in our lives.
First, let’s set the stage that this story plays itself upon. Jesus has returned to Jerusalem after going to the Mt. of Olives and is teaching again in the Temple. Swarms or people are vying for a place at his feet to hear him speak—standing perhaps all day, just wanting to be close enough to hear this Teacher of teachers speak. Suddenly, the cloud parts as the Jewish rulers callously drag a woman, bruised and frightened, and plop her on her feet in front of Jesus. Can’t you just see her—eyes red from crying, her head hung low out of shame—perhaps not shame for what she has done, but , at least, shame at having been treated like this. “Here you go, Jesus, here is a woman that was caught in the very act (can’t you hear the crowd gasp?) of adultery. The Law of Moses orders her to be stoned. What do you say, O Teacher, who claims to be related somehow to God?” Jesus, who took them all by surprise, followers and adversaries alike, kneels and writes in the dirt. This infuriates the scholars and Pharisees, who begin to raise a ruckus. I envision them much like the crowd at a baseball game when they begin to taunt the batter who is trying to focus on the ball. So Jesus continues to write in the dirt. Finally, when he is ready, he stands and says, “Anybody here who has never sinned? If so, go ahead and throw the first stone.” And then he leans down and continues to write in the dirt. Although the scripture doesn’t say so explicitly, I have always envisioned Jesus as close enough to the woman as to be taking a chance of getting hit, should someone have had the arrogance to believe that they were sinless. However, one by one, from the oldest to the youngest, they slip away. In fact, it appears that everyone, save the woman, slips away. Jesus, stands up and says to her, “where are all your accusers? Does anyone condemn you?” “No one, Teacher,” says the woman. Jesus responds, “Then I don’t condemn you either, go your way and do not continue to sin.”
Llook at the various levels of relationship that appear in this brief story. First, Jesus is found in the Temple teaching. Jesus seems to be always available to those who seek to know the Truth. And so, here he is, day after day, teaching in the Temple. There would have been all kinds of folks there, the Temple was a much more of a social center than say, this Temple is. It would have rarely been empty and those seeking Truth would have come to the Temple to learn. And, the Truth they find is Jesus. We may find ourselves as seekers as well. As seekers, longing for more knowledge of Jesus, these folk are in right relationship with God and in their own hearts.
The Jewish leaders enter and the crowd parts. The crowd would have done this partly out of respect and partly out of fear. And, let us not forget, curiosity. This would have been quite a scene in this busy, yet sacred space. The crowd steps a few steps back, wanting to give Jesus and these rulers some room. Perhaps fearing the stones that the Pharisees carried in readiness for the intended stoning, stepping back seemed a wise thing to do. Now, it is not clear that the Pharisees intended to stone this woman at all. In fact, common practice would suggest that they did not intend such a thing. While the penalty of stoning for adultery was found in the Law of Moses, there seems to be few times that the penalty was carried out throughout history. So it would seem that their true intention was to put Jesus into a place where there would be no ‘right’ answer and to set him up for their judgment. If, as scholars suggest, this whole scene was a ‘set-up’, the relationship of these rulers to the Law was questionable as well as their dishonesty, through their trickery, with the people, the woman, and Jesus.
It must have been infuriating to the Jewish leaders that Jesus did not respond to them. We don’t know what Jesus was writing in the dirt, doesn’t seem to play much of a role in the story. But his actions served the purpose of inciting the rulers to riot. After Jesus allows the rulers to be seen for the hypocrites that they were, he stands up and pronounces “judgment” as it were. “Are any of you without sin? If so, boldly cast the first stone”, he says and kneels down to continue writing. As often happens when Jesus is teaching, there is a strange twist in the story at this point. The rulers are asking Jesus to pronounce judgment on the woman; instead, He pronounces judgment on them. By raising the right question at just the right moment, Jesus gave the gift of divine insight even to those who sought to entrap him. Knowing that they are not without sin, they slink away. The Law of Moses—never intended to be used in trickery or scam—was given to the people of God to guide them in their search for Godliness. Jesus calls the so-called scholars and rulers to account for their wrong relationship to the Law and we see them turn, in disappointment, I would think, and walk away.
And, so, we are left with the woman and Jesus. Unnamed and unclaimed, she waits to hear her sentence from Jesus who now speaks only to her. When she tells him that no one is left to condemn her, he grants her divine forgiveness and reconciliation and tells her to cease her sinning. Jesus calls her, as only Jesus can, to right the several relationships in her life that are put in jeopardy by unfaithful acts. Obviously, her relationship with her husband has been rendered dishonest by her illicit behavior with those to whom she is not married or committed. But, it is not about the sex. Let me repeat that, it is not about the sex. Certainly there are those who believe and wish to believe that it is about the sex. It makes for a better, juicer story, and it is always easier to cease an action than it is to do the hard work of righting relationships. Rather than the sex itself, the real damage is the series of broken relationships that are her responsibility to mend. Broken also is the relationship between herself and her spirit. This is a defeated woman and it seems likely that this is the real reason she did not run away when all the others left. In reality, her life was a mess. In Jesus’ presence, freed from blame and shame, she comes to terms with those relationships she must now make right. Her dishonest relationship with both her husband and those with whom she engaged in extra-marital affairs had taken its toll; and, she is prepared to learn a new way of behaving, one free from deceit and guilt. And, so, she accepts Jesus’ ‘verdict’ and begins, from that moment on, to put her relationships back in order and restore her relationships with the people in her life, with herself, and with God.
But, what, you still ask, was Jesus writing in the dirt? I would like to know that as well. Some say it was the Ten Commandments. Some say he was writing the New Commandment. And some say he was drawing pictures or merely doodling. I believe that he was praying—praying for the woman and for the Jewish leaders to see the brokenness of their actions and behaviors. I believe that Jesus was communing with God throughout the entire time—that he was maintaining his right relationship with his divine parent. What would happen if we were able to do the same? What if, when we are confronted with malice, and what the Jewish leaders tried to do was certainly malicious—what if, we could calmly continue or heighten our relationship by praying, talking, writing, or singing to God while we wait for God’s response to the viciousness or evil. What would have happened if Jesus were as argumentative as most of us? The rush to pronounce judgment on the Pharisees would have precluded any hint of healing or reconciliation. Jesus, when confronted with the very real possibility of violence responded with patience and peace. When we are confronted with the violence of broken relationships, God calls us, as Jesus models for us, that we are to remain firm in our relationship with God, ourselves, and others—quietly so. And as we learn to ask the right questions at just the right time, we are invited to participate in the incoming of God’s reign of justice and hope. Amen and amen.
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