Life's Not Fair

“Life’s not fair.” Has anyone ever said that to you? I know I have heard it a few times throughout life and I bet you have too. Perhaps it was as a child when you got in trouble for doing something that your sibling had just done without punishment… “No one said life is fair.” Or, maybe it happened in school when your 10^th grade English teacher marked obviously correct grammar with red ink… “You know life is not always fair.” Then again, it could have been recently when the officer pick you out, even though everyone around you was speeding… “Life’s just not fair.”

In today’s Gospel lesson we hear a tiny sliver of one of my favorite passages in Holy Scripture that reminds me that life is not always fair. Often we hear the rest of this passage at funeral services. Jesus said to his disciples, “Do not be troubled.” Even though it was the night before he would die, Jesus spoke peacefully about the place where he was going, that he was preparing a place for them, and that there were many dwelling places there. At that moment Thomas blurts out a logical concern. When I hear about “Doubting Thomas” I think, “Sometimes life’s not fair.” For he was one who simply wanted a little bit more evidence, a little more from Jesus, and yet the Church has dubbed him the wayward cynic. Thomas spoke, “Lord we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus’ response has encouraged and perplexed the Church in the subsequent ages, “I am the way and the truth and the life.”

The Church picks on Thomas because in the cold black ink of Holy Scripture we can so easily scoff at his honest wonderings. Remarkably though one of the saints whom we celebrate today deserves a grander nickname of skepticism. Philip said to Jesus, “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.” Elsewhere in John he doubted that nine months wages would be enough to feed a swarming crowd. Life’s just not fair to Thomas, he lived a curious life and he became the doubtful one.

Returning to today’s Gospel lesson, Philip had been with Jesus all along–even calling his friend Nathanael to follow Jesus—and yet he missed the signs that pointed to Jesus’ complete connection with the Father. Maybe we can start a movement to call him Skeptical Philip or Oblivious Philip. And yet, something marvelous emerges in this interaction between Jesus and Philip, for I believe we discover that there’s another way of understanding “life’s not fair.”

Paul in his second letter to the Corinthians wrote, “Since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart.” I recently had the pleasure of hearing the author Anne Lamott speak about mercy. She said that when she hears the word mercy something in her changes. She feels a sense of release such that she no longer holds something against herself or someone. Just hearing the word mercy or merciful is enough to wake her up. When Skeptical Philip made his request to see the Father right after Doubting Thomas had wondered about the way Jesus was going, our Savior could have flown off the handle. He could have said, “Look you nitwits, I’ve said it before I’m too tired to say it now. Why don’t you get it already?! You’re all gonna abandon me anyway. What am I doing this for?!” Thankfully he did not! Instead, he responded with mercy.

As I look around here this evening and see friends from Good Shepherd, St. Timothy’s, St. Barnabas, and St. John’s I am encouraged because I know that like what Paul wrote, we are engaged in God’s ministry together. I also know that in each of our cities and communities we are experiencing divisive times, as we live with deep chasms in our nation. We may want to shut people out with whom we disagree and when asked why we aren’t acting with kindness say, “Well, life’s just not fair.” However, this will only worsen our collective wounds. Instead, what if we were to look through the lens of Christ? For Christ Jesus also believed that life was not fair, except he meant that in a merciful way.

He did not punish as evildoers deserved. He did not smack Skeptical Philip and Doubting Thomas on the backs of their heads. He did not send bolts of lightning upon his torturers. Instead, he was the way, the truth, and the life. You may ask, “So what does this mean?” I think it means that we too believe life is not fair.

Life’s not fair, but through the lens of Christ that means something different. In the “fair world” we rip out an eye for an eye, take a tooth for a tooth, and take a life for a life. We disrespect that other party because they disrespected us. And yet, life’s not fair. So, we wield the weapon of forgiveness instead of the venom of vengeance. We seek to serve Christ in all as we respect the dignity of all others including that one person we think we hate that we are thinking of at this second. Life’s not fair means that when faced with the corrupted and fallen powers of this world we act with the self-emptying love that Jesus showed on the cross.

So this is the ministry we’re called to engage in together. Paul described the difficulty of it when he told of the gods of this world distracting many such that they cannot see, hear, or experience this good news. Many remain captivated by the law of an eye for an eye, the law of a fair world. And yet, this is not good news, nor is it the way, the truth, and the life. In our ministry let us band together in mercy, so that we do not lose heart. Let us go forth from here and sharing the Good News of Christ who responds to us mercifully and who show us that life is indeed not fair. 

Mercy and Thanksgiving

What will you be doing in twenty four hours? Will you be frantically running around addressing the dressing, tending to the turkey and popping the pies into the oven? Will you have your feet propped up watching a full slate of football games? Will you be cutting out coupons and searching out deals in preparation for Black Friday?

You may not know, but tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It is a day when we remember the fellowship shared between the European settlers and the Native Americans way back in 1621. They may have had a meal together to celebrate the first successful harvest, but it was primarily a day of prayer giving thanks for continued life and all the blessings of new life for the Pilgrims in America. To answer my own questions from earlier I will gather with my family to overeat, watch too much football, but also hopefully to remember that primarily it is a day of giving thanks to God.

Sometimes things get in the way of giving thanks, not just football and cooking and couponing, but other more significant roadblocks on the path to appreciation. A few years ago while gathered around the Thanksgiving dinner table I found myself upset about how ungrateful one of my family members was. He grumbled about not liking turkey. He complained about politics (who wants to talk politics with their family?). He moaned about everything. Exasperated by the wave of whining I thought, and nearly said under my breath, God thank you for not making me like this bitter man, I’m thankful, I do my part in my community, and I go to church unlike him.

As I look back on the moment I am quite embarrassed by my “prayer.” While negative family members do not stand out on my Black Friday shopping list, my own reaction to this person caught me off guard. It also sounds eerily similar to a story from Luke’s Gospel account.

Two men went up to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee (well respected, law abiding, and a righteous man). The other was a tax collector (despised, disregarding the law, and a no good thief). While in the Temple, the Pharisee prayed, “’God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’”

It’s not hard to see with whom I identify in light of my Thanksgiving day breakdown a few years ago. I feel so often like a Pharisee, but never more so than on that day. It’s wonderful to be righteous and to follow the religious laws we have, and yet what God desires is for us to come back to him when we stray, not religious correctness, and not competitive righteousness. So what do we do with grumpy relatives and what can we hope for in mean old tax collectors? I’m glad you asked.

In today’s gospel lesson we hear of the lovable little character named Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus though was not so adored by the people in Jericho. He was a conniving toll collector who would take much more than required. This was a man of great wealth, but he was not of great stature. When Jesus came to Jericho something compelled Zacchaeus to run ahead of the crowd, so that he could get a good seat in the balcony of his day. Then unexpectedly Jesus moves the crowd towards the tree where Zacchaeus was perching.

Then Jesus did something so stunning that it made the crowd grumble. Jesus told Zacchaeus that he was coming to eat at the tax collectors home. Zacchaeus’ response stands out to this day as a glimpse of what repentance looks like in action. He said, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” He admitted that what he was doing wrong and he set out to make amends even if that made him a poor man.

Jesus ended this scene saying that salvation had come to Zacchaeus’ home, “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” A merciful tax collector climbed a tree so that he could spot the Savior coming. He gave away not a tenth of his income like the Pharisee but half of his possessions, and used his money to pay back those he had wronged. Yet all of this was more than worth it for Zacchaeus, for salvation and forgiveness had come to him in the person of Jesus.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, a day when many of us will overeat, watch too much football, and maybe remember our Pilgrim predecessors. However, true thankfulness begins at the intersection of our contrite hearts and God’s mercy-giving grace. The Pharisee’s mistake stemmed not from his gratefulness, but from his belief that he was better than the “sinners.” Jesus came to seek out and save the lost, which includes us. He desires to bring salvation from our broken ways. May Zacchaeus the tax collector serve as our model for our Thanksgiving Day. Let us pray:

Almighty God have mercy upon us, mold our penitent hearts, as you shaped the life and witness of the contrite tax collector, and may your Spirit enliven us always to give humble thanks for the loving redemption of Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.