Testing, Failing, and Welcoming

  

How do we continue to trust God even through failures? Read on...

 

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7

Romans 5:12-19

Matthew 4:1-11

Psalm 32

 

The Rev. Seth Olson © 2023

 

Holy Trinity, One 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.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am grateful and my family is grateful for paternity leave, which gifted me with precious time getting to welcome Lucia Rose Olson as she transitioned to this world.  

While I was not working officially as a priest and instead as a parent, I gained some insights: parenting multiple children is harder than one child, stay-at-home parenting is no joke, and retailers can charge whatever they want when selling things related to babies—the same goes for weddings. I also remembered an idea I had previously had that will at first sound like an non sequitur: it would be helpful to have an average person competing against pro athletes, like at the Olympics. Wouldn’t that be useful to the spectator to see average Jane or average Joe competing against Patrick Mahomes, Alex Morgan, or Leonel Messi?

Well, today’s Gospel made me think of that last insight again. Could any of us withstand what Jesus weathered in the wilderness? While Jesus’ spiritual fortitude is actually not the point of this message, it’s remarkable what Jesus overcame in facing the tempter—fasting for forty days and nights, denying sustenance, not testing God’s love for him, and resisting worldly power and prestige. Wow! But, if Jesus’ spiritual accomplishments in overcoming temptations is not the point, then what is?

We’ll get to the point in a bit. First let’s take a step back. Last week in church we heard the story of the Transfiguration, and in that passage Peter, James, and John heard God speak from a cloud. What did God say? Our Parent God said almost exactly what was spoken when John baptized Jesus: this is my son, the Beloved with whom I am well pleased. Except up that high mountain was added, “Listen to him!”

Today we jump back to right after Jesus’ baptism. Here it is worth us heeding the holy cloud’s command to listen to Jesus so that we can discern why his overcoming temptations impacts our lives—other than us thinking Jesus sure is good at overcoming temptations.

When we listen to this text for today what do we hear? Jesus, the beloved, was lead into the wilderness—not on his own accord, but by the Spirit. And, before you think the wilderness means a pleasant, nature retreat pause, for in these days, wilderness was where chaos and hardship persisted. Jesus being Spirit-driven into challenge sounds different than prosperity-gospel-peddlers who promise ultimate blessings upon baptism. Jesus instead faced hardship after hardship once emerging from the Jordan.

While these challenges were all different, at the core of these temptations though was a single question: To what extent are you going to trust in God? Which brings us to the point of this passage, not just for Jesus, but for us too. Bidden or unbidden, God remains faithfully present in our lives—God’s love never stops, never ends, never faulters—and our beautifully challenging work is to receive that grace, then mimic God’s faithfulness and love despite what challenges we face, just like Jesus modeled for us.

Thankfully, it is not a competition, but rather a journey of cooperation. For, if I were placed alongside Jesus in an overcoming-temptation contest, it would show just how self-centered I am and how self-sufficient I try to be. I’m not alone though. Recently I read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with Teddy, my five-year-old. Do you remember this story? In it, a character named Edmund faces very similar temptations to Jesus, and his failings informed me that I’m not alone in my ability to fail!

If it’s been awhile since you’ve read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the tale takes place in England during the Second World War, for their safety four siblings (Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy) are shipped to the country to live with an eccentric professor. In the professor’s large estate, Lucy, then Edmund, then the others stumble into a magical world called Narnia via an old, stately wardrobe in the spare room. Many lessons can be exhumed from this classic story—about the mysterious nature of God; about how purity, valor, and truthfulness are virtues worth pursuing; and about God’s wild and fierce nature! Sadly, what I noticed upon this rereading of the story was that despite my protestations as a child, “I am a lot like Edmund,” (the angsty, bratty, and childish younger brother in the story)—I really am like him.

Edmund, like Jesus, faced temptations. Unlike Jesus, Edmund failed. Instead of the devil, he faced Jadis the White Witch who spellbound the whole of Narnia such that it was always winter but never Christmas—boo! Instead of bread, Edmund was offered Turkish delights—he took them. Instead of being almost thrown off the Temple, he did throw himself into the clutches of the witch—putting Aslan, the Christ character, to the test. Instead of power over all kingdoms, Edmund was wooed simply by power over his older brother Peter. Edmund failed and failed and failed again. As a child I may not have succumbed to the same temptations, but upon further reflection I acted like Edmund more than I cared to admit.

What I am starting to see now—with the gift of failures and hindsight—is that temptations come in many shapes, sizes, and disguises. Quite often, like Edmund, I fail and fail and fail again.

Don’t I often seek sustenance not from a stone-turned-bread, but from things that destroy the earth? This year’s All Saints-wide Lenten practice of Creation Care reminds me that all those plastics that wrap my foods, all the food I throw out, and all the resources I waste rob the planet and future generations of vitality and life. The Turkish delights caused less harm than this!

Also, don’t I put God to the test when I pray for and then expect specific outcomes? Even when it’s asking for good things for those in need, if I am not yearning for, thy will to be done, when these prayers do not come to fruition I am more weary to trust in God’s unwavering faithfulness and presence in my life!

Finally, don’t I want power and control, so things go my way? This yearning can be idolatrous, as I put myself in God’s place. Worship—as in what we give worth to in our lives—is not meant to be a self-centered exercise, rather it is meant to decentralize our egos, such that we become entuned with how we can best serve God through loving our neighbors as ourselves and as God wants. A byproduct of this temptation is that I place my happiness in the results and outcomes of life, instead of learning that whether in the valley of failure or on the mountaintop of victory my task is not the result, but to trust ever deeper in the Divine One who walks with me—who walks with all of us always.

If we listen to the beloved Son of God, what lay at the heart of Jesus’ challenges was a question: will you trust in God? Will you trust in God, even when you are hungry? Will you put the trustworthiness of God to the test when things go from challenging to life-threatening? Will you trust in God even if power and prestige and control are offered?

Jesus, fully divine and fully human, overcame all these challenges not simply by floating through them via some divine, easy button. He made it through this exhausting encounter by relying upon God. When offered bread, he relied on God’s Word. When the Devil misquoted Holy Scripture tempting Jesus to test God, Jesus relied upon his deep faith in the Father. When the tempter offered power and control over all the kingdoms of the world if Jesus would but worship the Devil, Jesus trusted in the God of not just worldly powers but infinite power.

So, if the point is that God is faithful and loving always, and Jesus models a faithful response in the face of temptation, what is the implication for us? To trust God. We might wonder how we trust in God. There are a multitude of ways to deepen our faith. I really like Brad’s suggestion—posted on Facebook—that one should ask a friend or beloved to prescribe not a vindictive but a helpful Lenten practice that will grow one’s trust in God. Still even when we mess up, even when we fall short, like an average person versus a pro athlete, even when we fail harder than Edmund in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, God remains faithful—continuing to trust us.

I want to offer a challenging prayer, which has helped me to deepen my trust in God, as I slowly relinquish temptations in this life. It’s called the “Welcoming Prayer” and it is attributed to the late, contemplative giant Father Thomas Keating. Let us pray.

Welcome, welcome, welcome. I welcome everything that comes to me today because I know it’s for my healing. I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons, situations, and conditions. I let go of my desire for power and control. I let go of my desire for affection, esteem, approval, and pleasure. I let go of my desire for survival and security. I let go of my desire to change any situation, condition, person, or myself. I open to the love and presence of God and God’s healing action within. Amen.

 

There Is No B-Team

What does Rudy have to do with following Jesus? Let's find out!

If you have seen the movie Rudy you know Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger grew up in Joliet, Illinois during the 1960s harboring a deep desire to play football for the University Of Notre Dame. The only trouble came in that Rudy was not big enough, fast enough, or strong enough to play for the Fighting Irish. Well, that and he did not make good enough grades to make it into the academically rigorous institution. Oh, and he did not have the money to actually afford schooling at Notre Dame. Still, for Rudy he would not give up his dream.

Attempting to get his grades up, Rudy attended a local community college near South Bend where Notre Dame is located. He worked on the grounds crew for minimum wage. Being homeless he snuck into the groundskeeper’s office to sleep somewhere at night. All the while Ruettiger kept alive his dream of playing for the football team.

When Rudy discovered he was dyslexic he sought help to overcome his learning disability. He pulled up his grades just in time to transfer from the junior college to Notre Dame. After walking on to the team—playing without a scholarship—Rudy garnered the affection of teammates as he worked harder than most out of the spotlight on the practice squad. Eventually the coach promised to allow Rudy to dress for one home game his senior year, but that coach was let go and a new coach was brought in to coach the team.

Finally, during the last home game the other seniors including some All-American players said they would give up their spots to allow Rudy to play in their place. Eventually the coach conceded allowing Rudy to dress against Georgia Tech. The crowd began to cheer for Rudy as the game got out of hand in Notre Dame’s favor. Still the coach would not allow Rudy to see playing time. As Rudy played defense he needed the offense to score quickly at the end of the game so that he might get to play—and that was exactly what happened.

When Rudy got onto the field on kickoff duty he sprinted down the field, but as he did not make a tackle he would not be in the record book. He stayed on to play one defensive series. As he did, Rudy sacked the quarterback and the game ended with the other players carrying Rudy off the field. The story of Rudy stands out as a profound example of staying faithful to God’s calling for us in much the same way that God called Matthias whom we celebrate today.

After Judas betrayed Jesus, collected his money, and subsequently committed suicide, the disciples were missing a twelfth member. In the days between Jesus’ Ascension and the Spirit coming at Pentecost the Apostles prayed passionately in Jerusalem. There Peter felt inspired to fill that open position, but who would the Spirit call?

The disciples decided that this person need have been with them throughout the whole of Jesus’ earthly ministry. Joseph called Barabbas and Matthias were disciples of Jesus. They were there at Jesus’ miracles and at his teachings, they were there during Holy Week and Jesus’ Passion, and they were there even as all felt lost. Barabbas and Matthias were not practice squad disciples, nor were they B-team apostles. They were quiet, persistent, and faithful servants of Jesus. Perhaps even more than Peter, James, or John these disciples responded to God’s calling without any of the popularity or spotlight.

As the Spirit called through the casting of lots, Matthias was chosen to take Judas’ place. We do not know anything more than this about the life of Matthias, and to tell you the truth, it is better this way. The out of the way example that Matthias provides us inspires us not to be disciples for show or for some award. Rather, we are called to hear God’s calling, God’s dream for us and to pursue it without wavering or hesitation. Like Rudy we are charged to hold fast to the hope God puts into our hearts. When obstacles arise may we trust that God’s dream stands bigger than them.

May we follow the good example of Matthias trusting that there are no B-team disciples. May we dream with God hearing the calling for our lives. May we live as quiet, persistent, and faithful servants of Jesus following him whether or not we get praise or condolence in the process.

There’s A Catch

On Sunday night over 100 million people tuned in to watch Super Bowl XLII. What many deemed an instant classic could have just as easily devolved into a rage-inducing bummer of a contest. The Philadelphia Eagles scored on not one but two touchdown catches that tip-toed a thin line between what the National Football League calls a catch and what anyone with firing synapses would call a catch. Fortunately for everyone—except the New England Patriots and their fans—the two plays held up, even after official reviews. These plays in the Super Bowl though, stirred up a multi-season long debate that has mixed the gladiatorial with the philosophical, as jocks and league officials attempt to define what makes a catch a catch. A sporting body wondering what is and is not a catch has left many scratching their heads and even more flipping the channel. Still the question remains what makes a catch a catch?

Does a player have to maintain control even to the ground? How many feet does the player have to get in bounds? How about the football does it merely have to cross the plain of the goal line if the catch is to turn into a touchdown catch? Seemingly the list of questions goes on and on, and yet, all of this makes way too complicated something that ought to be simple.

There’s a saying recently repeated by a player on the winning side of the Super Bowl that applies to this gray-area of a sport: “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck!” (Otherwise known as “The Duck Rule”) This saying though applies to more than simply the rules of a game. It could just as easily apply to taking care of others as we live into the reign of Jesus, the Kingdom of God, and life in Christ!

In today’s Gospel lesson (Mark 7:1-13) the scribes and Pharisees have a problem with Jesus’ disciples. The tradition of the day stated that good followers of the Law would not eat with defiled hands, eat out of dirty dishes, or consume anything from the market that had not been cleaned. All of this seems good enough—and certainly practical enough; however, Jesus had a problem with the scribes and Pharisees criticizing his disciples. His problem though was not as much with the letter of the Law, as it was with the spirit of it.

Jesus saw those obsessed over religious law like many today might see the ridiculousness of several pages of rules to define a catch or a multi-million dollar study to tell us what a duck is. To Jesus the scribes and Pharisees had substituted the man-made practices for the God given commandments. In particular, Jesus struggled with the hypocrisy of one rule.

In this passage, Jesus pointed out the hypocrisy of obsessing over human procedure, like dirty dishes, instead of focusing on the weightier matters, like caring for the needy. Jesus used the practice of Corban to highlight how the religion of the day focused on selfish gain instead of selfless service. Corban in itself was a good thing, it was an offering to God. However, if giving that offering neglected one’s responsibilities of taking care of an aging family, then how could one possibly be doing the will of God?

When we focus upon the commandments of God we will always bring our humanity into it, but what must we do to ensure that we are not preferring our rules and traditions to taking care of the needy among us? Jesus would not advocate for ignoring one’s family, nor would he advocate ignoring giving to the work of God in this world. So, what must we do?

Following Jesus is hard. If people tell you it is easy they are lying to you or to themselves. To take care of one’s own affairs, one’s own family, and make an offering of love and thanks to God requires sacrifice. In fact though, if one goes about it earnestly one will discover that while it is difficult it is abundantly life-giving!

One might mistakenly hear in this reading that Jesus tells us to ignore tithing or giving altogether, but this is simply not the case. We are called to challenge our priorities and to give our first fruits to God proportionally and sacrificially. Then, we will find in that giving that our lives open up to how God transforms everything else into being enough for us. Selfish religious folks will very well advocate for the giving to the Church not because it would grow someone’s relationship with God, but because they selfishly wanted more for themselves. When we prioritize God first, our beloveds’ needs next, and everything else afterward we discover a great abundance in our lives.

We may fight all day long over what a catch is or is not, just like we might quibble over what are God’s commandments and what are human traditions; however, Jesus seems to have his own version of the duck test. He seems to say if it is about caring for the needy in this world, if it is about giving love to others, and if it is about sharing Good News, then it is God’s commandment. May we hold on to God’s commandments even if it means abandoning some of our traditions in the process!

Authority

Jesus healing the man with the unclean spirit in the synagogue at Capernaum.

Often the theme of a Gospel lesson will so jump off the page that a preacher need only to politely step out of the way, so that the power of Jesus’ words and actions may fully impact the congregation. Like a two foot putt for birdie, a point-blank shot on a goalie-less goal, or a simple one-yard touchdown pass this opportunity may seem too easy to mess up. However, let me assure you that I can (and often do) mess up this simplest of tasks. With this warning in mind, let us take a look at this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

The theme that leaps eagerly off the page in Mark 1:21-28 is Jesus’ authority. In particular Jesus compels listeners and even unclean spirits with merely his words. Jesus’ preaching and exorcism points to the power vested within him. As the synagogue-goers put it, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him” (1:27). The gimme sermon here would outline how Jesus’ authority differs from others, and even now how his power, healing, and dominion still compel all realms of existence. Of course, sometimes preachers (like me) miss the easy sermon going in search of something much more complicated. So what other sermons might flow from this passage?

Early evidence – The first two-thirds of Mark’s Gospel provide an adrenaline rush for the reader. One event bleeds immediately into the next. Not only this, but also one story may in fact be commentary on another. Jesus’ Baptism leads quickly to his temptation in the wilderness, then Jesus inaugurates his public ministry with a message of repentance, which quickly turns into his calling of Simon, Andrew, James, and John as his first disciples. Through God's calling Jesus overcomes temptation and he begins his own ministry by calling others to take part in what he has undergone! The disciple's first taste of Jesus’ leadership comes in the synagogue teaching and encounter with the unclean spirit. For those who had just left the safety and security of home and work this authoritative action in the synagogue would be early evidence of what the reader knows from the very beginning of Mark’s telling of the Good News: Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. A preacher could build the case with this early evidence that Jesus truly is the Son of God.

Unclean spirit(s)? – The narrator describes the man in the synagogue as having an unclean spirit, but the way the spirit talks points to something different. As Jesus approached the man, the spirit cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God” (1:24 italics added for emphasis). Is more than one spirit present? Perhaps. Another way of seeing this might provide for a fruitful sermon. The unclean spirit and the man have become so interwoven that the spirit speaks in the personal plural form for it and the man. Does Jesus have the power to cast out the spirit without the man being harmed? Yes! How are the unhealthy parts of ourselves called to be cast out? What part of us does Jesus yearn to heal? These are worthwhile questions to pursue if a sermon on healing attracts the preacher.

The healing power of silence – One could also focus on how Jesus rebukes the spirit. Was it by force? Speaking in tongues? Angels with the weapons of heaven? Nope! Through his words Jesus invokes the power of silence. Jesus commands the spirit to be silent and come out of the man. Sure, the spirit causes the man to cry out in a loud voice; however, the healing happens. Plus, the result of the crowds could have very well been a stunned silence in the synagogue before everyone began losing their minds over what Jesus did. A sermon on the profundity of silence could arise from the way through which Jesus healed this man.

Authority 2.0 – Although perhaps the most obvious path to approach Jesus’ healing in the synagogue hones in on the two mentions of his authority (in comparison with the scribes and as a result of his healing of the man with the unclean spirit), but a more robust sermon might engage asking the question, "From where does this authority really emerge?" How do we see people in positions of authority today—especially thinking that the world is becoming more and more wary of traditional seats of authority (government, religion, and other institutions)? How does Jesus’ authority speak for itself? In what ways does Jesus claim authority in our lives? These are just a few questions that I am pondering this week as I feel drawn into exploring how God’s authority resists coercion and instead compels us through healing and transformation.

While this week’s text (like many in Mark) appears straightforward, the preacher has multiple opportunities to walk faithfully on a path that illuminates this early example of Jesus’ authority as the Son of God.

System Fail: On Golden Calves, Sexual Harassment Lawsuits, and World Cup Exits

When a system fails it is almost too easy to scapegoat one person.

If you have not read Exodus 32, you should. I don’t use the s-word often because it sounds awfully preachy (and what preacher wants to sound preachy?), but I do here because I believe it is that important. This is not because it will take you to some mystical height, nor because I think it is the secret to life, but rather because Exodus 32 is a classic case of what happens when a system fails. And, whether you know it or not, the systems that involve you—your family, your business, and even your church—could just as easily crumble. I mean it doesn’t take very long to look around and see systems failing as CEOs are fired, marriages fall apart, sexual harassment doesn't get reported, or soccer teams miss the World Cup (cough… cough… U.S. Men’s National Team…cough…cough). So, what can Exodus 32 teach us about systems failing? I’m so glad you asked.

First, let’s go over what happened in it. Moses delayed from coming down the mountain (singing: he’ll be coming down the mountain but not right now…), so the people got restless. The people turned to Aaron (the senior V.P. of Promised Land LLC) and said, “We don’t need that Moses guy. Why don’t you make us a new god to worship? That other one may have brought us safely out of Egypt, but we want something shiny and new and gold and preferably made by Apple!” (Okay, they didn't say that last part.) So Aaron caved under the pressure and he helped the people make a statue of a golden calf that they worshiped at the altar that Aaron subsequently built.

Well, God saw what happened and he was not all that happy. God told Moses to get to stepping down the mountain to deal with “your people”—not God’s people mind you. This is like when a wife says to her husband “your son”—who is really the son of both of them—is misbehaving. So after God raged and Moses convinced God to calm down Moses went down the mountain where Moses himself started to rage.

The people had so disappointed Moses that he found it hard not to show his true feelings. Moses saw the golden calf, people dancing and worshiping it, so he threw down the tablets—not iPads, but stone tablets with God's commandments written on them. This was just the start. Soon he took the golden calf and made it into a powdery drink and forced the Israelites to drink it—and you think your protein powder tastes bad! Now, here’s where it gets good and where we can see some clear parallels to all sorts of other system failures.

When Moses confronted Aaron to figure out what had happened the scapegoating and finger-pointing got really interesting. Aaron blamed the people who made him do it—“You know the people, that they are bent on evil.” They just so happened to give him all their gold and he threw it into the fire and out came a golden calf. This sounds like the high school kid who throws a massive party at his family’s home while his parents are away and when they return he says his friends made him do it...riiiight! Moses eventually goes scorched earth on the people employing the Levites to kill 3,000 Israelites who had turned to worship the golden calf. What is striking and tragic is that this did not have to happen in this way.

Multiple people and events all conspired to contribute to the failing of this system. Usually we want to point out the “scapegoat”—or to use a fancy Systems Theory word “identified patient”—that is the source of the problem within a family, a workplace, or a church. It was his problem or her problem or that issue was the source of our stress. Then, we fire them or get rid of the problem thinking everything will be all better. Think of when the failing team fires its coach. Soon we discover though that while getting rid of that person or problem momentarily “fixes” things soon someone or something else will swoop in to fill the void. The new coach wins a couple games, but the same problems may very well exist within the system. In the case of Exodus 32 multiple failings conspired to result in the idol worship and subsequent murderous rampage.

Aaron, Moses, the people, and even God had a hand in this tumultuous set of events. We quickly can see that Aaron lied about what happened trying to blame the people for his role in the idol making. The people though were trying to test out the system to see if Aaron and Moses were on the same page. They obviously were not. Moses though had a hand in the problem. He had been the intermediary between the Israelites and God for so long that they seemed lost without him—like when a church struggles to replace the beloved former rector who had been there for 20 years. God though seemingly does not step in, but distances himself from the problem when he won’t even say they are his people, but Moses’ people. So what do we learn from all this?

First, transitions in systems are really hard. They need to be handled with much care. When someone gets fired because he or she is the problem—watch out! When someone who is beloved leaves or retires—watch out! When secrets and rumors start piling up—watch out! When someone goes on sabbatical leaving a V.P. or associate in charge—watch out! These moments are hard and the system will test its limitations to see the strength of its leaders in particular. The more that leaders can share responsibilities within a system and empower the whole to function normally even when he or she is missing the more prepared that system will be for change.

Second, the more that leadership is open, transparent, peaceful, and unified the more health exists within the system. If Aaron had simply told the people that they had one God and that God delivered them from Egypt and was leading them to the Promised Land, chances are none of this would have happened. Instead he did something silly and covered up what happened with a lie. Sexual harassment, fraud, substance abuse, etc. cannot happen without a cover-up. Transparency is vastly important to the health of a system, as is leadership being on the same page about whatever issue comes up. Think of the kid who begs one parent, then the other for ice cream to see if one will give into her request.

Finally, scapegoating never solves the real problem. While there is always more to learn from stories like Exodus 32, this might be the most important lesson. In writing that statement I cannot help but think of the example of Jesus. He came to flip the scapegoating, sacrificial nature of religion on its head. Instead of thinking that we have to have someone to blame for whatever problem is at hand, Jesus willingly took on the scapegoat role to transform it and take away its ability to “fix” things. When Jesus spoke words of forgiveness while he was hanging from a torture device he showed the fallacy of this way of doing things. When God resurrected Jesus the scapegoat paradigm was deflated, as we see that it was not the scapegoat that was broken but the system itself. And yet, we still keep on trying to send someone out like the poor goats who had all of a community’s sins attached to it.

Systems are tough. They often veer into unhealthy behavior without conscious thought. The role of leaders in the 21^st Century has become so complicated because we live in a world of gotcha moments that are all about finding someone to blame for a particular problem. The successful systems now, like in ages past, will be able to navigate transitions without scapegoating individuals. They will also likely avoid making a golden calf to put in the place of God, blame others for doing so, and end up murdering many people as the solution. All of this to say, get it together U.S. Men's Soccer!

By the Numbers

In case you are wondering, my fantasy football team laid a big fat egg yesterday. Even though I meticulously researched my team and wound up with one of the best drafts according to projected point totals, my squad of players from around the National Football League just did not show up yesterday. Fortunately for me, the team I am playing performed even worse than me. Nothing is final quite yet, but I may make it out of week one with an unearned victory. Strangely enough, this light-hearted experience of leisurely fantasy competition has given me an insight about this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

This week’s story of the Good News picks up midway through Matthew Chapter Eighteen. In the previous verses Jesus spoke about lost sheep, how to practice forgiveness in the Church, and now we get Peter’s question about how many times we ought to engage in reconciliation with someone before we give up on them. Peter thinks the over/under on times to forgive a fellow member of the church needs to be set at seven. Seven may not seem like a lot, but in those days it was not just a lucky number.

Seven during the time of Jesus had greater significance than it simply being a prime number or the number of days in a week. During this time, according to the New Annotated Oxford Bible, “Seven often symbolizes ‘completeness’”.[1] Thus, Peter was not just choosing an arbitrary number from thin air. Instead, this disciple wondered, “If someone in the church sins against me how much shall I forgive them? Shall I forgive them completely?” As we hear such a bold statement on the theme of reconciliation upon which this whole chapter in Matthew focuses, we would presume that Jesus would boisterously agree with complete forgiveness, and yet, that is not what happened.

For Jesus, forgiveness by the numbers—even great numbers—does not go far enough. Later in the week I intend to dive further into the parable of the unforgiving servant—which comes right after this—and how it challenges us to let forgiveness be our most common practice; however, just looking at Jesus’ moving Peter’s ideal of seven times to seventy-seven times gives me all I need to know about what we are called to do. Jesus invites us to practice forgiveness not only to completeness, but to the furthest extent of totality (yes, that is a tardy reference to the solar eclipse). While Mathematics does not typically excite me this much, I want to take one deeper look at the number Jesus cited.

If in the days of Jesus seven stood out as the number of fullness we would do well to notice what number he chose to expand Peter’s understanding. Instead of simply saying forty-nine, which is seven times seven, Jesus chose seventy-seven or complete-completeness. Seven in both columns of this two digit number challenged Peter to see that his view of total forgiveness needed not just a little more, but a whole column more worth of relational healing. Jesus’ challenge though may leave us feeling a bit dejected, as practically forgiving someone who has done us harm seven times seems extravagant—not to mention doing that another seventy times! So what do we do? Let me return to where I started.

My personality manifests as such that even a loss in a fictional game meant for fun among friends causes me to believe that I have fallen short of the mark. Said differently, I have a hard time even forgiving myself. Sometimes I mistakenly think that I can easily forgive someone else when I do not forgive myself. When I lose even at something silly like fantasy football and I have a hard time reconciling with myself, God gives me in this moment an opportunity to practice forgiveness. For me to learn what Jesus speaks here, I believe I must start with the practice of living as a forgiven person myself—like the unforgiving servant whom we hear about later in this lesson. If I cannot freely live into forgiveness first, then God’s grace seems a difficult gift to pass along to anyone else. However, Jesus calls us to faithfully jump into this tricky flow of forgiveness—reconciliation is our home.

Even if I lose not seven times but seventy-seven times, Jesus tells me not to hold these failures against myself because no matter how many times I fall short God always says to me (and to you too), “I love you. You are forgiven.” This eternally rings true not only in the small, stupid missteps like fantasy football losses, but in the gigantic, important failures, like when we harm friendships, marriages, and other relationships with children, grandchildren, other relatives, coworkers, neighbors, or strangers. As I continue to process this passage, I feel challenged to actually live into forgiveness—not just saying the words of the confession, but letting them take hold in my heart. For we are people who have been forgiven, now Jesus challenges us to take this healing and reconciliation into the world.

---

[1] Cousland, J.R.C. "Matthew." In The New Oxford Annotated Bible: New Revised Standard Version 4th Edition, 1765. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.

Do we really want Jesus?

Last week I watched the remarkable documentary Four Falls of Buffalo, which chronicled the Buffalo Bills making and losing four consecutive Super Bowls. If you have not watched this film do yourself a favor and find it on Netflix. In four straight football seasons starting in 1990-91 and ending in 94-95 the Bills were the best team in the American Football Conference, but each of those years they heartbreakingly lost to a team from the National Football Conference. In spite of always being the bridesmaid never the bride, that team showed some remarkably winning attributes.

Jim Kelly the quarterback of that team said that all of the adversity he faced prepared him to fight and win a battle with cancer. The head coach of the team, Marv Levy, urged his players onward using the vigor of Sir Winston Churchill who never, never, ever gave up and the anonymous poem featuring Sir Andrew Barton who urged “Fight on my men/A little I’m hurt but not yet slain/I’ll just lie down and bleed a while/And then I’ll rise and Fight again.” And perhaps most inspiring was the story of Scott Norwood the kicker. Norwood missed the game winning field goal in the 1991 Super Bowl, but faced the music answering press questions for 30 solid minutes after the game. When he returned to Buffalo the crowd hailed him by shouting, “We want Scott! We want Scott!” Overwhelmed with emotion the kicker prophetically promised to make it back to the big game the next year. If only Jesus had been born in Buffalo and not Bethlehem of Nazareth, maybe then his own people would have accepted him.

In the midst of the fourth chapter of Luke’s gospel account Jesus makes his way back to his hometown of Nazareth. As was his custom, he went to the synagogue to participate in the Sabbath. He was given a scroll to read and was handed the whole text from Isaiah. Rapidly he turned to the following portion:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

Because he has anointed me

To bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

And recovery of sight to the blind,

To let the oppressed go free,

To proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

Jesus topped off this reading by saying, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Amazingly at first, all the religious leaders were amazed.

The synagogue leaders thought of Jesus’ words as being gracious. They perhaps felt some warm and fuzzy feelings hearing what he said. Maybe they even went so far as to believe that they were going to bring the good news, release to captives, sight to the blind, freedom to the oppressed, and all that comes with the Lord’s favor. And then, Jesus pokes at their amazement with these words coming from “Joseph’s son.”

The fervor with which Jesus unleashed his questions to the synagogue crowd presents difficult questions. If he was building a solid relationship with those people from his home town why would he push them in this way? For what reason would he bring up a proverb about a doctor curing himself if he had not yet faced overwhelming persecution? And, what is the point of talking about those whom Elijah and Elisha did not heal? The crowd does not just react to what Jesus said, but instead responded with homicidal intent. This overreaction speaks to why Jesus did what he did.

When Jesus spoke to the crowd those religious leaders created expectations with the passage from Isaiah. The people wanted not just to be a part of the year of the Lord’s favor, but they wanted it to happen exactly how they had envisioned it. They wanted to be the ones in power. They wanted to overthrow the Roman authorities. They thought they were the ones who were poor and would be raised by God. Mistakenly they thought that God’s favor only applied to them.

If Jesus were born in Buffalo, Burbank, or even Birmingham we might expect that he would be welcomed more fully than he was in Nazareth. Perhaps the crowd might shout, “We want Jesus! We want Jesus!” even in the face of not doing what we might want. However, we will continue to miss the Good News of Christ’s redemption if we believe that Jesus just came to show us the way. Jesus came to free everyone from believing that it is my way or the highway. It is time to accept the Truth that all are created, loved, and sustained by God.

Brack-ra-mental Theology

While these are my picks, I promise they won't all be right!

Let the MADNESS BEGIN! Of course, if you have been a dutiful Lenten pilgrim you have already been engaging in holy madness for a month now by participating in Lent Madness. With all due respect to the play-in games and Lent Madness, today a nation-sweeping, productivity-ruining madness starts as the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament gets underway. How many games into the tournament will your bracket remain flawless? How much money will the United States economy lose due to workers watching these games over the next three weeks? ($134 million in the first two days alone?) Will anyone pick every game correctly due to selecting their favorite mascot, team color, or the most attractive coach? What does any of this have to do with our relationship with God or each other? Wait, what?

I hear the groans and sighs all the way through the internet, as you are thinking, "Why do you have to turn everything into something related to God? Can't you just let a basketball tournament be a basketball tournament?" In short, NO! Sorry friends, but even in the mundane I tend to find the magnificence of the Divine. March Madness is no exception.

Before going any further though, I need to attempt to operationally define the word sacrament.The good ol' Book of Common Prayer states, "The sacraments are outward and visible signs of inward
and spiritual grace, given by Christ as sure and certain means by which we receive that grace" (BCP, 857). Bread and wine are not just signs of Christ's Body and Blood respectively, they are the way that the people of God receive Christ's Body. It is all very trippy because in that moment Christ's Body (the Church) is receiving Christ's Body (the Body/Bread and the Blood/Wine). As one of my professors from seminary would say, "RAD!" And, yes, it is rad. Yet, let's keep going.

Most good Protestant Christians will quickly site two Sacraments that Jesus passed on to us in his earthly ministry: Baptism and Communion. Most good Catholics will add on five additional Sacraments: Confirmation, Penance, Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders (Ordination), and Matrimony. Some Protestants still believe these "extra" five are sacramental, even if they are not strictly seen as Sacraments. This gets me to the kicker... er, since we are in basketball season, the shooter. If these outward and visible signs are signs and means of grace, what is to stop us from thinking about other things in life like this? Jesus never had a cup of java, but isn't sharing coffee and a muffin with a good friend somewhat sacramental? The Jewish people have a tradition of saying every table is an altar. All meals can thus be seen as sacramental. Taking a walk, calling a dying family member, seeing a baby born... the sacramental moments in life are countless. Maybe it even extends to filling out these dumb March Madness brackets.

A lot of people will not be working today. A lot of business analysts will say this is a very bad thing. I tend to see the grace in the lack of productivity. For a few days we all have something in common, we all have something to talk about together. Whether we are picking the teams with the prettiest colors or are trying to use advanced metrics to select the winners we are all glued to our computer screens hoping that our brackets do not bust too much. And yet, it is not really about who wins the office pool to me. I am much more interested in seeing the grace that we receive by having something that brings us all together to see just how much we all have in common with one another. Yet, do not just stop by seeing your brackets as sacramental (brack-ra-mental) push further to find that every ounce of life is dripping with the presence of Our God. March is not just about Madness it's also about Holiness.

We're Talking About Practice

"Not a game... Not a game, but PRACTICE!" Allen Iverson

This off the cuff sermon audio can be found by clicking here. We're not talking about a game Mr. Iverson, but practice!

Learning Where Judge and Love Meet

The Truth can find us in all sorts of strange ways. Take for example this morning when I was getting ready for the day and listening to some sports talk radio (one of my favorite pass times). On this morning’s “Mike and Mike” show the hosts were discussing the use of smokeless tobacco products in light of Tony Gwynn’s early death partially due to his use of dip and chew. While I did not hear the entire conversation both the Mikes attested to the courtesy of their callers who discussed and debated whether Major League Baseball should ban the use of smokeless products to lessen their prominence and prevent young viewers from thinking it is “cool.”

All of the civility went out the window as Mike Greenberg read an email from an irate listener. This man had been a fan of the show for many years, but was going to stop listening after today’s broadcast because this show is now just like the rest of the media. The disappointed listener went on to write that no one can tell him how to live his life, especially not the media. What I heard the listener saying is quite common in our society, “No one can judge me.”

Today’s reading from Paul’s Letter to the Romans makes this claim as well, “Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, whenyou judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself,because you, the judge, are doing the very same things” (2:1). We rejoice in this passage because we can point to it and say, “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! ONLY GOD CAN!”

We do not like the feeling of being judged. Certainly Jesus makes a claim for doing the work of figuring out where we are in the wrong first when he talks about getting the log out of our eye before weinspect the speck of sawdust in another’s. Yet, the Truth I recognized this morning is that so often when I feel I am being judged I want to pack up my toys and go play by myself. It is not that we judge it is how we do it.

If I did use smokeless tobacco products I would certainly know that they are bad for me, this fact is written on the packaging. And, if you saw me using tobacco products you would certainly know that I was putting myself in danger by using them. Yet, I do not want to know that you know that I am putting myself in danger, and I do not want to hear that you know that I am putting myself into danger because then I would have to acknowledge the way I am living my life. Let me go on living in denial, please! Most often when someone points out a flaw in us, even if they do so politely, it feels as though they are being too direct, too confrontational, and too mean. Looking at the opposite end of the spectrum though, what if no one ever judged that we had done anything wrongly?

We could live however we want to live. We could do whatever we want to do. We could congratulate ourselves for the simplest accomplishment. We could scream as loud as we want to in our very own echo chamber without anyone saying a peep. The difficulty in living in this way though is that there is no growth, no transcendence, and no way of getting closer to God. The solution is not isolation, nor is it a total lack of judgment, but rather a redefining of how we share difficult, confrontational, and crucial information with one another.

When God created all things God made a judgment about Creation. God said, this is good, and this is very good. When God’s people chose their own way and not God’s will God did not judge that they ought to be destroyed. Rather time and time again God sent leaders (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and Aaron) to bring the people back to God in all sorts of strange and creative ways (i.e. see the Pentateuch). God sent the prophets when God judged that the Israelites were not living up to their “Chosen People” status. Then God sent Christ Jesus, his Son, to judge the people in a way that shows what kind of judgment awaits us.

We judged that Jesus should die, so we put him to death. Yet even in this moment God did not choose to destroy us, but God judged that forgiveness transcends revenge, that life overcomes death, that love unites us not separates us. Judgment and love cannot be separated in God’s decisions. Yet, this is what we choose to do when we simply point out flaws in other people, when we choose to be cynical about the state of the world, and when we point our fingers blaming one another for our collective challenges. This is like a doctor giving a diagnosis without a treatment plan. This is like giving someone a fishing pole without teaching them how to fish. If we spend our time only pointing to the problems in our lives, without working through a solution with others, then we are cutting ourselves off from the healing, transcending, and redeeming love of Christ.

None of us like to be judged because that Truth is so hard to hear and when we hear it we might feel shame or guilt for being that way. Yet, we must hear and accept the Truth about ourselves to grow closer to one another and closer to God. We must look to the way that God judges us. Do not judge by pointing a finger, but by extending a hand in love, for that is how God judges us with an overabundant love that overcomes even death.