Jesus Wasn’t Finished 7-13-14

Jesus, open our eyes to see as you see and our hands to touch as you touch.  Call forth the very center of our hearts and let us feel your love surging from our being.  Made like you, show us how to act the same.  Amen

            I’ve done many sermons from the voice of someone involved in the story; and, this time there are many someone’s.  So I will speak on behalf of the crowd; and, just maybe, on behalf of all of us. 

We streamed on and on, miles of us it seemed, all waiting to see this man named Jesus.  We would have waited for days; and some of us did. It was more curiosity than respect at this point; and, desperation for many.   Among us were those paralyzed from birth, those blinded by accidents and those who could not hear.  Some could not speak, some chose not to—their stories too painful to utter aloud.  They said he could heal; let’s see it.  Before we were aware of what was happening, people were being changed—healed—just by the touch of his hand or a word from his mouth. 

All around a hush layered over us like fog on a lake; the awe rolled in; clouds before the storm of rejoicing.  Hour upon hour, he touched them into wholeness, awaking our spirits with each utterance of “I’m healed!”  How could it be that he loved each one enough to heal them?  We couldn’t explain it if we tried.   At least, it felt like love:  pure, unboundless love.  Surely, this must be the love of God, living and healing amongst us.  Surely this was what pure praise sounds like when one drops to their knees and says, “I’m healed.”  The hours went on with scores of people coming forward to be within his reach.  Finally, no more in need of healing could be found.

Thinking the day was done, we turned to go, hungry for food, Weary from standing all those hours.  We had no expectations of anything else and so we headed for our homes—new people with new minds, but old stomachs which rumbled with hunger as we gathered our things. Suddenly, someone said “Stop!”, he isn’t finished.  We sat as he commanded and waited.  Suddenly, baskets of bread and fish began to appear—we ate our fill, but we could not out eat all that was served.  Not that we didn’t try, oh, no, we tried all right.  Something happened to us as we ate that fish.  It wasn’t just fish and bread, it was a miracle. 

This Jesus, so different already, so open and caring, He hadn’t been finished with us.

He noticed we were hungry, why that didn’t take much sense, we’d been there for hours.  No one thought it would be that long, so we foolishly brought nothing, but He wasn’t finished with us. So noticing turned to caring and caring to doing.  We chatted among ourselves, now fully satisfied spiritually and physically, and wondered about this man Jesus.  The feeling of love still flowed strongly so, amazingly, we listened to each other without interrupting.  We let each other have their have their ‘say’ and, then we thought about it. 

            Old Zeke, he thought that Jesus did it to show us how much God loved us.  Rebe Josh said that it was more than that.  He believed that God sent Jesus to show us how important it is to love each other.  Yes, that’s right.  It was Rebe Josh, who snuck out when none of the other priests were looking, because he wanted to hear from this Jesus himself.  Sister Nora said, humbly, not wanting to offend the Rabbi, that she thought it was about a way of living—a way that called us to notice first, and, then act.  She had been near some of the disciples and she heard them admit that they hadn’t even thought about the crowd.  They knew they were hungry; and, that was their focus.  Jesus was the one who noticed the needs of the crowd.  Once they thought about it, they knew he was right; but, they didn’t figure they had any food, so it was every person for themselves.  Sister Nora said that Jesus didn’t really reprimand them; he just got them to figure out what to do.  You know how Sister Nora can go on, and she did…telling us about what it looked like up at the front of the crowd as the food just started to appear—all because Jesus noticed and cared. 

            Little Zeke, that was Old Zeke’s grandson, was about 15.  He was a man in the Jewish tradition; but he still had the curiosity of a child.  He said to the group of us, “I don’t get it.  How do you live a life where you always think about others?  Aren’t we too busy making sure that our own families are fed and have water and a roof over their heads.  Little Zeke was getting ready to be married; and, it seems he felt the need to be a “Man” who provides for his family the way God commanded.  Sister Nora thought a moment and said, “It looks to me that we need to think about the way Jesus lives to get that answer.  I think that you are right, Little Zeke, but it’s about seeing beyond what’s staring us in the face.”    About that time, a little old stooped over woman, Bubi Ruth said, “this conversation is all well and good’ but, in case you haven’t noticed, Jesus has left this place and most of the crowd is headed for home.  Can we talk and walk at the same time.  I’d like to be home before dark.”  Sister Nora, gathered up her things and motioned to everyone else to gather theirs and they started back.  But, they could not stop talking; the spirit was so full among them that they just kept throwing out ideas and asking each other questions. 

            Little Zeke wanted Sister Nora to continue what she started and asked her what she meant by how Jesus lives.  Sister Nora said, “You know, this is the third time I’ve seen him; and, I always want to get close enough to get just a glimpse of him.  There’s something about his face that shows me that he is more about me and all of the me’s in his sight, then he is about himself.  And he’s not some sort of public martyr play-acting his concern, he really cares.”  Rebe Josh says, I think the word you are looking for is compassion.  He has compassion. “  Bubi Ruth suddenly looked up and said, “Rebe, I’m an old woman and I might not have much time to figure this all out; so why don’t you tell me just what this compassion looks like.”

            Rebe Josh put his arm around her and took the blanket she was carrying and carried it himself.  “We are so used to looking at how things affect us that we fail to see the other person’s need.  I’m embarrassed that I let you carry that blanket even for a little while.  I know that it is hard for you to carry it and not very hard for me to add it to my load; but, I have to be taught to pay attention, to notice.  I think this man Jesus is showing us that we need to get to the place where we understand that if you are hurting, I am hurting, too.  I think that this is the hard part.  You know, back in the beginning of things, the Jewish people knew about creation and knew that they had a special relationship with God.  I don’t know what this man Jesus may say about that special relationship, but I’m sure that he would remind us our how we are connected together.  Just like everybody calls Bubi Ruth here, “Bubi” even though she isn’t everybody’s grandmother—not really, but we all love her as if she were.  We’re interconnected and what hurts one, hurts another.  I haven’t thought about these things since I was young and trying to figure things out.  Now, I am older and know that I better listen to this man Jesus if I want to grow into the life to which I feel him calling me.  This will require much thinking and praying. “

            A new voice was heard.  Sister Esther, who is rather quiet and contemplative said, “God has been showing me this during my prayers.  I know that I never share with any of you, but Jesus has given me courage.  God has been leading me to think about the way I have compassion for others.  You know, my ability to not just put myself in someone’s shoes in my head, but my willingness to actually, willingly be there beside them walking in their shoes.”  I really didn’t get it until I saw Jesus today.  That means that before I criticize someone, I walk in their shoes.  It means that if I love my neighbor, I will not sit and eat my fill while they are hungry.  It means I won’t spend time gossiping about the little things when the big things need me so badly to care about them, first.  Am I getting it, Rebi?” 

            Rebe Josh said, “Without a doubt you are getting it.  We are all getting it; or, at least we could if we let ourselves be healed from our self-interest and our refusal to look beyond how we understand things to hear from another.  That’s my goal this week—to hear from as many people as I can how they understand their lives and what they might need.  I want to pay attention to the shoulders that look tense, or the eyes that won’t meet mine.  I want to see if I can get a better idea of what Jesus is all about.   Thank you, each of you for sharing your insight with me. “  Sister Nora, too, said, “Yes, thanks, together we came a lot farther in making sense of the day then we could have alone.  Oops, there’s my house.  Love to you all.”  They hugged and she went inside.

One by one, they left the group; and, after seeing Bubi Ruth to her home the Rebe was all alone.  He sat down.  And he prayed, and he smiled.  Amen and amen and Namaste

           

                        

So They May Be Responsible 7-6-14

So that They May Be Responsible       7/4/2014

God, author of freedom and peace, lead us to prioritize where we spend our time.  Show us where we fit in your holy sacredness.  Amen

          Happy Fourth of July Weekend!  The fireworks are over, but the enthusiasm lingers on as it should.  My favorite Fourth of July comes from the mid-80’s in New York City.  We gained not quite legal access to the roof of my apartment building which housed students from Union Theological Seminary and as dusk grew into full darkness, magnificent displays of fireworks could be viewed from all four directions.  I would look South and East and see some of the higher explosions from the Macy’s East River show.  Several towns in New Jersey provided displays to my west and to the north and east I could see displays in the Bronx and somewhere close to Westchester County.  Of course, eventually we got caught, but the good-natured security guards pretty much let us finish the shows before rushing us back inside and finding a better way to secure the door until next year when students would again find a way to remove the lock. 

          The Fourth of July is a uniquely United States holiday since no one else cares to celebrate our declaring of independence from Britain in 1776.  As such, it gives rise to a certain militarism that may have strayed from the meaning of the original celebration.  I suspect that, in the beginning, it was more about the birth of a new nation than the battles that would be fought in the name of Freedom throughout the decades.  In focusing on the defending of Freedom, we may have lost some of the actual excitement of 1776 when a fairly rag-tag bunch of folks stepped up and said, “we are called to be more than this and it’s time to show the world just what we are called to be”. 

          I think much of modern day Christendom may suffer from a similar lack of understanding of her true beginnings when a fairly rag-tag bunch of apostles and followers said, “that man, Jesus, he showed us how to be more than who we are now and it’s time to show the world just what and who we are called to be”.  This thought has led me to think about what it would look like if we sincerely sought to return to our roots, to re-connect to our Judeo-Christian early beliefs and to be reconciled to God through our actions in faith and through God’s amazing grace.  So, I want to introduce you to a new series of sermons that I hope will help us think about reconnecting to our earlier roots and priorities.

          Here is the truth about tradition:  even when the story that is handed down may have been proven later to be a myth, it doesn’t really matter.  What matters is to look for the hidden or not so hidden truth in the story.  The stories of our ancestors held sacred truth; and, people throughout the centuries have found that truth significant enough to hold on to by the telling and retelling of the stories that make up our knowledge of earliest times.  The creation story is one such tradition.  In this story, we find God creating the world and all there is.  Days one through five are spent on creating the world and everything in it except us.  We come to Day Six—the last day of creation.  This is what God says:   “Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature so they can be responsible for the fish in the sea, the birds in the air, the cattle, and, yes, Earth itself, and every animal that moves on the face of Earth.”      In this story of ours, we must not overlook the reason we were created.  We were made in God’s image the epitome of responsibility and faithfulness so that we could be responsible for all the rest of creation.  We were created to reflect God’s nature.  And in the next breath, God blesses us and commissions us:    “Prosper! Reproduce! Fill Earth! Take charge!  Be responsible!”  And at the end of Day Six, God looked over everything that was made; it was so good, so very good!  You see, God trusted us to be responsible.   So, if we take seriously our story tradition, humankind was not created last to indicate our superiority.  No, humankind was created last because of our role in the world, our role as caretakers of everything else that was made.  We might need to let that sink in.  For thousands of years, humankind has thought of themselves as loftier that all of creation when, indeed, we were created to be servants to all creation. 

          Now, if our stories represent what our ancestors thought were the most important things to be remembered, we have some work to do.  What, then, is the spiritual paradigm shift to which we are called—once we recognize our rightful place in the scheme of things? 

Let’s look at the typical schoolroom.  Let’s assume that you or I are always at the top of the class.  We make the 100’s, we score the A+’s, we get to be ‘in charge’ when the teacher leaves the room.  Let’s also assume that the teacher goes to a seminar and learns a new way to teach.  All of a sudden, he or she reverses the order in the classroom; and, suddenly, I find myself at the bottom.  It is the student who struggles the hardest just to make a C that is suddenly thrust into the limelight.  Now, I am going to be one angry student.  We were so good at staying at the top—you and I—that we have a very difficult time accepting this new world order.  Everything we’ve learned is being challenged.  The very people we used to think were below us are now in charge.  Now, let’s assume that we are particularly insightful students—that we open ourselves up to the possibilities inherent in this change, that we look for what there is to learn.  Once we lower our anger response and once we lose our sense of entitlement, the insights see easier to grasp.

          First, and foremost, we learn humility.  Life looks different from the back of the line.  And, if we are paying attention we can gain certain spiritual truths.  From my new found place in the order of the world I discover that I can see all who are ahead of me.  I see the dirt from which I both came and find my nourishment while I am here.  I see all the animals which play such vital roles in the eco-systems world-wide.  I lie under shade trees and feel myself one with the roots of that tree going deep, deep into the earth seeking nourishment from the center of the earth.  When it is dark, I can see the moon and the thousands of stars that make up the known universe.  And, when it is sunny, I can stand in the rays of the sun and find my gratefulness for the rays that keep all of this earth in varying stages of warm. 

          Thus, we learn responsibility and accountability.  I am responsible for all of creation and accountable to God for ensuring the keeping of that responsibility.  Before God closed the book on creation and rested, God put us in charge and pronounced everything to be good.  I have to suspect that somewhere along the line the energy that is God shuddered and continues to shudder at how poorly we have done.  I believe that, as much as it has been scientifically proven that human beings have, for the most part, done a truly terrible job of maintaining the “good” that God saw at the end of the sixth day.  It is only through a spiritual awakening that things will change; we must be born again. 

          Jesus says this about our relationship with the Divine.  “Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense Divine grace”.   Just as our shift to the end of the line in our imaginary classroom changed the way we saw things, and allowed the focus to shift from ourselves to God, this alteration will change the way we look at things as well.  Jesus came into a world where few were focused on God.     Our reconnection to the earth—to the earth created and given to us to guard and protect—will require us to undergo a certain rebirthing process as a world of peoples.  While we will probably continue to celebrate the birth of the United States of America, we must, at the same time, know deep in our hearts and psyches that we are not at the head of the line; we are bringing up the rear ensuring the safety of all who walk ahead of us and who will eventually come behind us.  And, in this spiritual rebirth, we find ourselves yearning to explore what it means to be a part of all there is.  In humility, we know, along with Joan Chittister that   “Real patriotism will not be reached on this planet until, for each of us, our country is the world”.  By this, she does not mean that we cannot feel a special pride on next year’s Fourth of July; she does mean, however, that “real Patriotism” requires all of us to know and celebrate our role of responsibility for the world.  And, someday, perhaps, that energy we call God will say again, “And all is good; all is very good”.  Amen, amen, and Namaste.