Coming Home

 

When have you felt lost, like the sheep from Luke 15:1-10?

Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
Psalm 14
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

The Rev. Seth Olson © 2022

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

I love hide-and-seek! At least a few times a week, my five-year-old (Teddy) and I find ourselves sneaking around our home trying to evade one another. I am no longer the champion hider that I was during the days of deep pandemic time. Partially that is because our home only has so many hiding places, but also my child has grown up—he’s a much better seeker than he once was.

When the shoe is on the other foot, and Teddy is hiding, I admit that sometimes I intentionally do not find him at first. Even if I hear him giggling under the bed, I might walk down the hall for a while, so that he can reveal in the freedom of being “lost.” Of course, eventually he wants to be found—we all do. Perhaps more than anything else in the world, we yearn to be found.

If you have ever been truly lost it can be a bit terrifying. My first day of College Track practice at Sewanee was such an occasion. I ran with the rest of the team for 3 miles, but they dropped me as I was undertrained. Deep in the woods of the 13,000-acre campus, not knowing how to get out, I felt panicked. At first, I tried to keep running to find my way home; however, that only got me more lost. In those days we did not carry our cell phones everywhere either (man, I sound so old). So, I stopped, and I listened, and I prayed. Then, not too long after that, my friends came running down the trail where I was.

From time-to-time, all of us get a bit lost, and I do not mean like I did at track practice. Lost like we were 21 years ago today when terrorists attacked the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Lost like we might have been the past couple years. Lost like we forget who we are and whose we are.

When we are this kind of lost we might take inventory of our lived values with questions like: do I enjoy my job, am I fulfilled with my relationships, or how do I feel about my drinking? We might even feel lost as to what we are feeling inside saying: the world is moving on, but I feel stuck—I feel more uneasy or anxious and don’t know why. When we get this kind of lost our society claims there are many solutions to help us find our way and ourselves!

You probably know these promises that we willingly take on ourselves: When I get enough money then you will have made it. There’s that perfect job out there and once I get it, I’ll be set! My life will be complete when I find the right person. A baby will make my family whole! When my team, candidate, or company wins, then it’ll all finally be great! Maybe these “solutions” help us for a time, but what about when we are the type of lost that cannot be solved by earning more, doing more, or being more?

If we are not careful, we might mishear the words from Jesus today. We might mistakenly think Jesus is telling me to go do more – I am a shepherd who will be alright when I find the sheep, or I am like the woman who must get that money back! Here though Jesus is not telling us to just keep seeking until we find, instead he is describing something we cannot find or fix on our own.

When we are lost—when we feel as though our faith, our spirit, our soul is lost—we would be wise to hear three aspects of these stories Jesus told us today. First, when we are lost, it is not on us to become found. Second, while being found is not on us our role is not entirely passive either. Third, this is not a “being found” competition—in other words, we are invited into a celebration where we rejoice alongside others when God finds them too.[1]

First, finding ourselves is not all up to us. There are a lot of books on Amazon with the title “Finding Myself,” and I am sure these volumes with thousands of five-star positive reviews do indeed help individuals to do the important work of discovering their truest selves. That work cannot be understated in how valuable it is. And yet, at the same time there is something fundamentally humorous in the idea of me being able to find myself if I am truly lost.

Jesus’ parables today enlighten us to the truth that sometimes we are the lost sheep or the lost coin. Anytime we get overwhelmed by the too-much-ness of this world, God is already searching for us. God is the foolish shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine other “found” (saved?) sheep to go find the one who has gone missing. Make no mistake this is poor animal husbandry; however, it is the audacious way that the Reign of Christ works! God comes looking for us.

In the same seemingly foolish way, the poor woman having just found her coin, then throwing a party for her neighbors would NOT have been the best financial decision. However, when she found a coin worth—funny enough, the amount of money needed to purchase a sheep—she could not help but celebrate with others. Jesus was not attempting to provide worldly wealth management advice, nor was he your typical shepherd. The way he depicts the Kingdom of Heaven points us toward seeing that God’s love is lavish, superfluous, extravagant, over-the-top, and even a bit dangerous (in the best possible way)!

So, if the point of these stories is that we aren’t the seekers, but the lost, then it’s not up to us at all—we’re merely passive passengers with Jesus taking the wheel, right? Well, this is the second point to notice—there’s this happy middle ground here, like when I was lost in the woods running. I could have keep searching by running and gotten myself more lost. Something deep within me though told me to stop and listen and be open to being found! Sure enough, I was. So was the lost sheep and so was the lost coin.

The point of the story then is that we are miserable sinners, and we should sin boldly, and get lost after some riotous living (like the Prodigal Son in another parable)! Right? That sounds fun! Except, that’s not it either. In the parable that follows right after today’s Gospel, the Prodigal Son gets lost too, and it’s not fun—he’s so desperate that he daydreams about eating pig slop and being a hired servant. Being lost takes its toll, living riotously is not all fun. Sometimes though it takes us reaching that sort of emptiness, that kind of breaking point to realize we’re lost and cannot get “un-lost” on our own.

The beauty is that we need only to be still, to pay attention, and be open to God. In this middle ground, God does something almost incomprehensible. God comes running for us, and when a lost sheep is found, a lost coin is retrieved, a lost child is home, there is a raucous party! Every time we find ourselves lost (haha), God will seek us out to bring us back home where a giant celebration will commence.

Still, there’s a third and final point here to the story. Yes, we are “lost” sinners and tax collectors, but we are also “found” religious ones like the scribes and Pharisees. Our part in these stories is multiple. We play more than one role. As we experience the relief of being found and coming home, our task is not then to ostracize those who have not yet realized that God is pursuing them. Our aim as cojourners on this spiritual path is to rejoice whenever one is found by God, and maybe something more.

It is quite easy to be cynical, to think like the older brother in the Prodigal Son story, that we have earned our way into the Household of God because God found us at a different time, but that’s not the point of these powerful parables. Instead, we are called to rejoice around the Table together recognizing just how magnificent it is that God seeks us still.

At times we might feel like we are playing hide-and-seek with God, but as we hear these parables of the found sheep and the found coin anew, may we recognize all the ways we fit into the story. At times we will be the lost ones, at times we will be the found ones, and at times we will be the ones invited to rejoice alongside lost ones coming home. Alongside God may we be like the Good Shepherd, the Searching Woman, and the Adoring Father who rejoice and celebrate the beauty of us all coming home.

 

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[1] Elaborating upon points made by Dr. Scott Bader-Saye, Theological Perspective Commentary on Luke 15:1-10 in Feasting on the Word Eds. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

Be Great, Beloved

A church is great not simply because of what it has done, but chiefly because God loves it and God loves us. (Photo credit: Ann Stewart)

This sermon was preached on the 18^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 20B) at St. John’s Church. The readings for this Sunday were the following: 

Proverbs 31:10-31

Psalm 1

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

Mark 9:30-37

What a night we had on Wednesday! It was great! Wasn’t it? Our new Parish Hall was adorned in splendor—elegant table clothes, splendid flower arrangements, beautiful place settings! Our newly expanded space was nearly filled to capacity. We shared in a fantastic meal and watched a slideshow of the construction’s progress. Then, our church’s leaders including our bishop commended us on a job well done! Finally, we walked around as Bishop Kee spritzed our spaces with holy water using a sprig of asparagus fern to douse and bless the renovations and us too. Wednesday’s celebration was great! But, that’s not all that was/is great.

We too are great! Actually that doesn’t take it far enough. St. John’s is so great it might just be the greatest church in this diocese. Yeah, that’s not far enough either. This may be the best church in the entire Episcopal Church. Hold on that isn’t taking it far enough! Even among other denominations I would argue we are the paramount... the greatest church! Yes, I will gladly argue with others that we are the best!

Jesus said, “What’re you arguing about on the way?” Uh oh. I feel a little embarrassed, Jesus. I feel a sheepish silence coming over me. Yep, I just fell into the same trap that ensnared the disciples. Do not get me wrong, the faithfulness, the discipleship, and the generosity of this church is overwhelming, inspiring, and to be commended; however, arguing over who is the greatest—even when it’s regarding a church, especially when it’s regarding a church—arguing over who is the greatest does not lead us any closer to God. But why is that?

Christ Jesus never said, “Seek greatness!” He implored us to love God and to love our neighbors. He urged us to take up our cross and follow him. And, today he lets us know that if we want to be first we must be last and if we want to be great we must serve. But, he never said, “Be great by trying to prove it to others!” So why is it that we do this? Why do we keep reverting back to this argumentative behavior? How come we are striving for greatness instead of striving to follow Jesus? The answer lies in a powerful disconnect that we struggle with as individuals and as an entire species.

Somewhere along the way we have mixed up being great with being loved. Somewhere lodged deep within the entire human population lies a profound brokenness. This wrecked nature leads us to having a blurred vision of who God is and what our relationship with the Divine looks like. This misconception exists right alongside a desire to return to our original state of blessedness. We yearn to remember that we are made in God’s image. And, Christ Jesus came so that we would know the way back into that state; however, we continue to mix up God’s message to us. We continually seek to be great instead of to be loved. 

As individuals, this striving towards greatness comes in many shapes. It will not necessarily look like proving that we are better than others. Rather, each of us in our own way seeks to earn God’s love. All of us struggle to prove that we are worthy of God’s affection. This is not unlike our trying to please a reluctant parent or a reclusive spouse. We may strive for God’s love by trying to be right, to be kind, or to be victorious. We might seek God’s love by being unique, being smart, or being part of a group. We may attempt to achieve God’s love through being the funniest, the strongest, or the most enlightened. Still all of these attempts are for naught. This is not because these strivings are without value, but rather because the thing for which we strive—God’s love—cannot ever be earned. There’s no way to achieve it and no way to lose it.

So that’s it, right? We just sit back and let God’s love roll over us. Well, yes! So why do we continue to revert back into the same brokenness? How is it that we keep falling back into proving our greatness, our worthiness, and our deservedness? What’s our solution?

When the disciples were arguing over their own greatness along the way Jesus called them out. We do not hear the exact words Peter used to say how much more wonderful he was than John, nor do we hear John claim his superiority over his brother James in such plain terms, but make no mistake the disciples were just like us. One might have subtly made innuendos to how much better his kids were. Another could have used the fullness of his calendar to prove his greatness. And, still another may have stated that Jesus like him the best because he was the funniest. As the disciples fought over who was the greatest Jesus laid out a different path.

In a moment of stress and transition the disciples argued over greatness. When Jesus told of his betrayal, death, and resurrection the bickering arose. Jesus though gave another way. Jesus’ alternative path may simply look like servant leadership. However, if we are not careful out-serving one another can lead to just another way for us to prove how great we are. Jesus was not trying to provide another way of competing. Rather, he was laying out a completely different way of living—simply, living by following him.

When we live this way we live in the assurance that God loves us unconditionally, limitlessly, and eternally. So, what changes? If our starting point is not in deficiency, but in total fulfillment through Christ how is our life different? Jesus’ way of servanthood was not so much a leadership tactic as it was a way of completely changing the world. If each and every one of us is living as a servant, then we are not worrying about who is better than the other. If you and I are not trying to prove our greatness, but rather seek to honor and attend to one another’s needs doesn’t that change things? But what does this look like? Jesus pointed to caring for a child as the answer.

Have you ever held a newborn in your arms? When you cared for that baby did you ever think, “This brat is trying to get one over on me!”? Of course not! This is why Jesus pulled that child into their midst. We project all sorts of evil intentions upon one another, which prevents us from really helping each another. Instead of assuming that someone has ulterior motives what if you went above and beyond to care for her needs knowing full well that what matters is that God already loves you both more fully than you’ll ever know? What if you look at all people—even those ones whom you have always tried to best—what if you looked at everyone like you looked at a little child? This is the way of love that Jesus gives us to walk.

This church is great not simply because of what it has done, but chiefly because God loves it and God loves us. God loves you! As you grow in grace may you realize that nothing you do earns you any more love from God. You are already so, so loved. Christ came to show you and us this way. When we realize that we are already loved completely we no longer have to worry about proving our greatness. Instead we realize that we are only great by being loved and sharing that love. So be great, beloved.

Good, Better, Best

Who are you: Martha or Mary? Is one truly the better path to follow?

So who are you? Are you Martha? Are you Mary? When confronted with this passage from Luke’s Tenth Chapter often the impulse readily available drives me to choose who I am most resembling at the moment.

Is there a lot of work on my plate? Have I been serving others recently? Did I host any dinner parties this week? Then, presumably I am Martha.

Have I been spending time in quiet? Did I stop to say my prayers before running around like a chicken with my head cut off? Am I living my life with my relationship with Jesus as the core? Then, presumably I am Mary.

We would all like to be Mary, right? No one tries to be the priest or the Levite who walks right by the beat-up-traveler—we all want to be the Good Samaritan. And, that story immediately precedes this one. We all want to be the one that stops to care for the broken-down-traveler, we all want to be the one who sits at the bedside of a sick, beloved friend. And yet, I think that one word in our current translation makes it almost impossible to see any merit in the other way—Martha’s way. Better gets in the way of a fuller understanding of what Jesus really said to these sisters.

Voltaire, the French philosopher who often attacked the Church, once said, “Better is the enemy of Good.” This seems so obvious, but we spend our lives pursuing better that we do not even count the blessings that we have around us. We charge ahead chasing after something better. One day we may very well wake up to realize that we have sacrificed the pursuit of goodness for the pursuit of betterment. Why do we do this and why is this so dangerous and what does this have to do with Martha and Mary? The answer lies in what Jesus really said.

When Martha came to complain to Jesus the original language tells us that his response went something like this: “Martha, Martha thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” What a difference! In this translation Jesus does not stand as a judge who is declaring that Mary is the better sister, instead he is clearly pointing to the truth we need only one thing: to be with God.

Mary was not proclaimed the better sister, she had stumbled upon the truth of our reality and the purpose of our being. She knew that being with Jesus was the way. Instead of trying to do more or be better or even to be good, Mary simply stopped. As we live in a world that gets more and more obsessed with more and more, we would do well to move from ways in which we compare ourselves one to another. In fact, it would be helpful if we stopped inserting the word better into Jesus’ mouth when he speaks to these two sisters. As we have been exploring in our Wednesday night series on the Prodigal Son, the Father in that story, like Jesus here, was not playing favorites. They both just wanted all to gather together in joy instead of competition.

As we live out lives of better though we find ways to one up one another all the time. On some level I believe we do this unconsciously. We have it programmed into us from the events of our rearing. The time when a parent, a teacher, or someone at church says, “You did great” or “That needs to be better” or “Why can’t you be more like her?” starts something in us that is hard to stop. God though yearns for us to live in his wide-open embrace that extends to everyone regardless of how much more or how much less we do than others. This is the great fallacy of better—that it actually exists and that it will somehow make you happier than you can be at this very moment.

Jesus taught that there is only one way: it is the good way. That way leads us to stop the warring, wrangling, and jostling for the prime spot. That way does not ask of us anything in return. That way simply calls us to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen, to rest in the embrace of Our Heavenly Father. This is not the better way it is the best way for it is God’s way and truly it is the only way.

Peter and Paul: United In Faith

“For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths” (2 Timothy 4:3-4).

We have come into an odd age in human history. Perhaps we have been here for more than a moment, but to me the shift feels sudden. We are no longer to agree upon truth or facts, nor can we all say together what is reasonable or logical. Instead, we have become impassioned creatures addicted to wild emotions, simple narratives, and tribal mentalities.

If you are liberal you may easily head over to “your” news channels, outlets, and websites. And, if you are conservative you may do the same with your news media. Social Media companies are having to release statements so that people know how to spot fake news. We de-friend or stop following people because they spout off a different belief system than ourselves. We have reached the time when people are not putting up with sound doctrine, for we all have itching ears and are accumulating for ourselves teachers that suit our own desires. Call it a silo or an echo chamber, but regardless these segmented areas of life feel awfully crowded, they are incredibly loud, and in the end I believe they provide only empty promises.

What I notice standing out about the trajectory of conversation and communal life in the United States revolves around a need for a simple narrative that proves one side right and another wrong. Thus, we all yearn for myths that explain away any sense of nuance or grey area. We occupy a zero-sum system in which no compliment may be paid to someone on the other side of an issue for fear that it would give that person some leverage. This way of existing makes me so disheartened. We have seemingly forgotten that we are not islands unto ourselves. Instead, we persist in digging our heels in deeper, as we exacerbate the problem of a binary worldview.

The first step in addressing any problem comes in acknowledging that we are in denial about having a problem in the first place. We have a problem in how we relate to one another across all the constructed boundaries of race, creed, color, gender, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, or any other category. Of course, we are not the first to have this problem.

Today we celebrate the martyrdoms of St. Peter and St. Paul. Two men who gave their lives because they would not renounce their radical belief that a man named Jesus was the Son of God. In those days when the Roman Empire controlled where Peter and Paul lived one had to profess a belief that the Emperor was God or the Son of God. To believe anything else was treasonous and punishable by death. While we celebrate these two saints separately on different days in the Church Year, today we remember their collective self-sacrificing in the face of the temptation to keep on living by renouncing their belief in Jesus as the Messiah. Make no mistake this is what we celebrate today; however, another aspect of this day stands out.

Peter and Paul did not see eye-to-eye. They followed the same Lord, but went about their mission of spreading the Good News of Christ Jesus in drastically different ways. At times this meant that they butted heads. Their journeys took them on different paths. Often factious were created. And yet, in the end they both met the same fate—death by execution—in the same city—Rome—at the hands of the same Emperor—Nero. Seemingly the Scripture chosen for these two men—the words of Paul in his second letter to Timothy and words about Peter in John’s Gospel account—also share a theme, namely telling the Truth in the face of denial, persecution, and even death.

Paul wrote to Timothy to urge him onward in his ministry. Others would seek out teaching that merely led to proving their point. Paul understood something greater. The prolific Epistle writer knew that even if he had to face suffering what matters in the end is sharing the Truth, keeping the faith, and running with perseverance the race set before him. He would not deny the Truth. Peter had to learn this lesson in humiliating fashion.

When Jesus faced his torturous death Peter watched on from a distance. People questioned whether he was a follower of Jesus. In the face of these questions Peter denied his belief in Christ Jesus. John’s story of the undoing of these denials with affirmations of love help us to see the healing that took place and can take place when we acknowledge our disowning the Truth. In Christ denial is overcome through love. This is the hope that we must take forward.

Our world appears to be burning with a desire to separate, hate, and isolate. Many live in denial that we are all connected to one another. So we seek our own teachers to provide myths that fit how we see the world. Christ came to unite us. The cure for these sins that disconnect us from God and one another does not reside in proving others wrong or outsmarting one another or yelling louder than anyone else, but instead in loving one another as we serve and serve with those with whom we have disagreements.

More Than Two Ways

Standardized testing bothers me. It always has. I performed fairly well on these competitions of scholastic achievement, but I never liked them. Even as a kid, I found it presumptuous that the designers of the test had created something with only one right answer. It is either true or false. It’s either A) B) C) or D). Slightly better were the questions where D) was all of the above or E) none of the above. I can recall thinking in the middle of taking the SAT, “I don’t think this is how life works.”

Of course, I aim to lead a life that is not either/or but both/and. My favorite sport of soccer can end in not two, but three ways: a win, a loss, or a draw. When someone asks questions like: Pepsi or Coke? Simp’s or Railyard? Mountains or Beach? I want to answer both, of course!

Life is not typically an either/or choice. Life is not even a multiple choice test. Almost always more than one way exists to the problem of skinning a cat, or solving another challenge. With this preexisting belief I always find it troubling when at first glance Jesus lays out an either/or choice, like in today’s Gospel lesson.

Clearly Jesus articulates a dichotomous pathway of discipleship in this text. He said, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” His words sound crystal clear: choose me or choose your family. These words have a troubling tone when they hit my ear.

Being 45 days until our due date, I struggle with God Incarnate saying that I either have to choose Jesus or my unborn baby boy. This seems cruel. I am sure we all have a family member or two—think of that crazy uncle or that annoying cousin—that we would gladly leave behind for Jesus. Still I find it so challenging that Jesus outlines the way of faith being exclusionary to loving our family. But, is that what he really said?

When Matthew and his community came together to write down the Good News of Jesus they did so in a very particular context. In its most infantile stage, many believed the Way of Christ was simply an offshoot of Judaism. These ragtag followers of Jesus believed some outrageous things that many Jewish people struggled to comprehend. Namely, these disciples thought that the hope of the People of God had actually come to earth, he had fulfilled all the law and the prophets, and his victory was fulfilled in the shameful death Jesus died on the cross. I can understand why some people of Israel would have given early Christians an odd glance or two. Many members of the Early Church would have thus been standing up to their parents, or perhaps the other way around with parents converting as their children wanted to keep the way of the Torah. In this world then, an either/or choice seemingly existed: Family or Jesus.

Jesus though did not stop with his statement on family. He continued saying, “Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Buried in this statement about taking up the cross, following Jesus, and losing one’s life for Christ’s sake—buried in this statement—a mysterious kernel hides that pushes us to see the aforementioned choice of family or Jesus differently. The way of the Cross stands out as profoundly difficult, requiring one’s entire life, and at the same time filled with overabundance from God’s bounteous grace!

The way of the Cross actually pushes us beyond the either/or way of seeing the world. We could be presumptuous believing that Jesus only had a couple of choices when it came to the cross; however, I believe this belief is false. Jesus could have become a victim in the moment—taking on the suffering of the cross to an unhealthy point and identifying as one who was persecuted. Jesus could have become a victimizer in the Resurrection—taking out revenge on those who had killed him. And yet, he did neither. Jesus walked a third way neither becoming victim nor victimizer, but instead redeeming the world through self-emptying love. When Jesus asks us to pick up our crosses and follow him we are not being asked to make an either/or choice. No, instead we must do something much harder.

The way of Jesus requires us to give up our old way of seeing the world and living in it. We must take up the sword that Jesus speaks of not to cut others and certainly not to inflict physical harm. Instead, God calls us to discern how we might more closely follow Christ by cutting away material items, unhealthy relationships, selfish tendencies, and all that only serves to build us and our egos up. We must practice a type of living martyrdom in which we give up what we would otherwise be doing, so that Christ may live within us, through us, and between us. This is impossibly hard though and we will fail over and over again. And still we must keep going.

The world around us would have us to believe that everything is either/or: black or white, male or female, rich or poor, old or young, weak or strong, hungry or full, Muslim or Christian, us or them. And yet, we find even within our Scripture for today an example of God destroying all the binary boundaries that we so fiercely put into place, so that God could bring salvation to Hagar and Ishmael the ancestors of Muhammad, the founder of Islam.

When Father Abraham and Mother Sarah had finally conceived and bore Isaac a tension arose around Ishmael being in their household. In fact, Sarah could not stand to look upon Hagar, so the handmaid was sent on her way with enough supplies to make a short journey. When Hagar walked away from her son she had given up on life, but God had not given up on her. Though she was in the lowest station of that day—a woman, a mother without a husband, a servant, and a person without land or a support system—God not only spoke to her, but he brought about her salvation!

God will always find a way to break down the barriers of either/or that we set up in our world. The question is are we going to help God to break down those boundaries to co-create the ways beyond choice A) or B)? Love is not a finite resource. While we might be mere mortals we have within us the eternal resource of God’s unconditional love that calls us to love God by loving family, friend, neighbor, and stranger!

Competing For Holiness

It’s that time of the year again. Can you smell the competitiveness in the air? Teams are gathering, game plans are being made, and leaders are coming up with motivational speeches. I imagine at this point you believe that I am talking about the SEC preparing for the start of another exciting college football season, but that’s not the competition to which I am referring. While August still stands as the start of the South’s favorite sport, this is also the time when churches begin battling for new members who are just getting back into the swing of things at the start of the school year.

Christians in the South love to get into it a little bit with our one another. We might be brothers and sisters in Christ, but we don’t have to withhold our snide comments about one another. Everyone loves a good joke about our Methodist friends or our Baptist neighbors. I am certainly not above this, as my favorite one is the following:
Me: Do you know why you have to take two Baptists fishing?
You: No, why?
Me: Because if you take just one he will drink all your beer!

Haha! We love joking the differences between the different mainline denominations. We enjoy saying that Presbyterians cannot possibly believe in Predestination. Or that Church of Christ folks are so strict with their beliefs. In general we just love drawing lines in the proverbial sand. Yet, when we start hear that some other church is growing fast, or that some other megachurch is “cherry picking” members from other churches, or that some pastor is claiming that only his denomination is getting into Heaven we tend not just to joke, but to outright criticize other denominations. We have a hard time letting go of competition.

We might believe that today’s gospel begins with a statement that supposedly supports spiritual competitiveness: the Pharisees heard that Jesus was baptizing more than Jesus. Jesus was outperforming John; the Messiah was beating the prophet; the Word of God was leading the Voice Crying in the Wilderness on the baptismal scoreboard. Yet, the gospel writer recorded this not so that we might boast about how Jesus was better than John, but rather this moment marked a transitional time for Jesus and his disciples. No longer were they avoiding the Pharisees’ attention, instead now the religious elite shifted their persecution upon Jesus and his followers.

As Jesus circumnavigates the Pharisees’ wrath, he finds himself tired and thirsty in Samaria. Here he converses with a woman at the well exemplifying that God wants to cross human-imposed boundaries, rather than continue to compete and struggle against one another. Jesus and the Samaritan woman exchange some witty remarks, and eventually end up wondering, “Where does God’s holiness reside?” The Samaritans claimed their holy place was on top of a mountain, the Jews believed their site of holiness was in Jerusalem. The two could have argued vehemently for who was right and where God was truly present in this world. Yet, Jesus comes not to settle arguments, but to show that He is the source of holiness.

We have a hard time in our polarized, black-or-white culture to even acknowledge that grey area exists. We want to cheer for our kids, our school, our team, our political party, our country, our church, our denomination, and our religion. We cannot easily see the spark of Christ that exists even within our supposed enemies. Yet, Jesus modeled having conversations, like this one with the Samaritan woman, across our made up divisions. Jesus urges us to understand that it is not about where holiness does or does not reside, but it is about having a relationship with him who comes to reconcile all of us to God. We can continue to compete over who is walking through our doors, whose worship is the best, who is winning church wars, or we can say together, Jesus, give us some of that living water, we all need a drink of that!