Fulfillment

“Happy New Year!” I say to myself as I look forward to this coming Sunday. Oh, I’m too early, you say? Oh, I just wrote a scathing blogpost last week about people putting up their Christmas lights too early and now I’m already moving to the New Year, you say? Well, I was talking about the Church year—thank you very much! Yes, I am a Church nerd; however, I am one not merely as an occupational hazard. No, I care so much about the tradition, experience, and practices of the Church because I care about how we as human beings relate to God. As one such Church nerd, it is my duty and great joy to tell you the good news that we begin a new Church year this coming Sunday with a new season (Advent), new Sunday School classes at St. John's (Come learn about why the Church year is awesome!), and a shift in our readings—chiefly we see this in a move from the Gospel of Luke to the Gospel of Matthew.

 

During new student orientation in seminary we had an icebreaker activity with all sorts of nerdy Church questions: Are you high church, broad church, or low church in your worship style? Do you like praise music, hymnal music, or no music? Would you rather use Rite I, Rite II, or Enriching Our Worship? Which Gospel is your favorite: Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John? I don’t remember my answers to other questions, but I remember that Luke was my favorite Gospel when I entered seminary. If you asked me last week where it stands in my Gospel Power Rankings (GPR) I would reply that it is in danger of missing the four team Gospel Championship Playoff (GCP). Matthew though, does not sit much higher. So part of me rejoiced this morning when I put away my big commentary on Luke, but another part grimaced when I picked up the commentary on Matthew. I especially winced when I read this coming Sunday’s reading (Matthew 24:36-44).

The start of our Church year and the beginning of its first season of Advent when we prepare for the coming of Christ (past, present, and yet-to-come) sounds so scary this year with three distinct admonitions. First, nobody knows when the Son of Man is coming, like those in Noah’s day did not know when the flood would carry them away. Next, when the Lord comes two will be working in the field or at the mill, one will be taken and one will be left. Finally, God will come like a thief in the night. “Keep awake” could be the summary message, or maybe “Let’s get paranoid!” Sheesh, this is how we start the year? It is a little different than a gigantic disco ball, college bowl games, and champagne to ring in the New Year! And yet, I am not giving up hope on the First Sunday of Advent!

While the four canonical Gospels all have much in common—mostly that they are about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth—each has its own distinct flavor. Matthew’s distinct essence, according to the scholar R.T. France, focuses upon fulfillment. Jesus came to fulfill! He came to fulfill the law, the prophets, and God’s plan of salvation! Matthew proves this over and over again with fifty-four direct quotations from the Old Testament (OT) and another 262 allusions to the OT. This statistically does not outpace every book of the New Testament, but it does have more OT per verse than any other Gospel (R.T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, 10-11)! So why are the OT connections important? And, how might this salvage a very direct Gospel passage this Sunday? Fair questions.

The theme of fulfillment is important because it will shape just about every story in the First Gospel, like how the Magnificat’s upside-down worldview provides a key to unlocking an understanding of Luke or how the whole first chapter of John (Logos Hymn) gives insight into knowing the celebratory nature of the Word’s coming in the Fourth Gospel. “All this happened to fulfill what had been written (in some prophet’s book)” will be a commonly heard refrain in Matthew, which will bring the theme of fulfillment to center stage. But, as is the case this Sunday, often the theme of fulfillment will be like an operating software running in the background. This Sunday we surprisingly start the Church Year late in Matthew’s Gospel with a prophetic word about the coming of the Son of Man from Jesus himself, which is to say the least "trippy." This challenging message is still about fulfillment though. 

The Son of Man comes into the world to fulfill all that was written in Jewish Scripture and beyond, and as scary as that moment could be (see: Noah’s flood, left behind series, thief in the night), what Jesus really seems worried about is someone missing that moment altogether! If we truly believe that Matthew wrote his Gospel to help his community and others know that Jesus came to fulfill God’s purposes in this world, then we have the freedom to hear Jesus’ words differently. Jesus urges those listening to pay attention, so that all may be part of the fulfillment that the Son of Man brings. When understood this way these are hopeful words, challenging ones yes, but more than anything (at least according to Matthew) God wants us to be part of the fulfilling of all things! That does make me feel like this is a Happy New Year!

No Concept, but a King

The North Rim sits approximately 2,000 feet above the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, so the ecosystem and climate on each side of the chasm differ drastically. While chaperoning a Geology field expedition out west, which explored this wonder of the world, I certainly noticed the difference in weather on the two rims. In late May the South Rim was pleasant with highs in the low 70s; however, on the North Rim the temperatures were down right freezing with heavy snow falling affecting everything from setting up tents to seeing across the canyon. On the last day of this frozen camping failure our fearless leader Dr. Bran Potter, a man who has forgotten more about the earth’s formation than I will ever know, despite the chilly conditions lost his cool. 

 

The students on the trip were packing up their belongings and placing them in the storage trailer, which not only contained all the tents, duffels, and sleeping bags, but also all the cooking equipment and food for the next few days. Diligently some students, Dr. Potter, and I packed up the supplies, as the conditions had already put us behind schedule for our next stop in Southern Utah. Then, a few out-of-touch numbskulls got a not-so-bright idea. They began so innocently tossing snowballs at one another, but pretty quickly their target shifted from those engaging in a snowball fight to those packing up the trailer. When Dr. Potter attempted to back up his van to attach the now-filled-trailer to the tow hitch a snowball narrowly missed his head and exploded off the side view mirror. Now, some people possess such an overwhelming sense of calm about them that when they show any emotion it is so captivating and memorable that one never forgets the encounter, Dr. Potter is one such individual.

As the snowball whizzed past his head he stopped his actions and seemingly everything else around him in the campground did as well. Even though the van was still running it seemed to grow silent and the only thing audible was the near silent noise of snow falling on already accumulating snow. The words that he spoke—not yelled, but firmly articulated toward the culprit with a snowball still in his hand—I will never forget. “You have no concept.” I have often returned to these words, not as an insult, although it is a good one—how can someone come back from being told he has no concept? “Oh yes, I do!” does little to prove that one indeed does have a grasp of the idea at hand—I have returned to Dr. Potter’s words as a humble reminder that I do not know, a lowly mantra for navigating the difficult times and the unanswerable questions.

I have no concept. Perhaps this is not reassuring to hear from your priest. I naively thought that this country was only a little bit divided, but now it seems we are as far apart as the North Rim and the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Since the election fear has bubbled up from beneath the surface, as over 400 hate crimes have been reported, even including racist epithets on the sides of stores, schools, and Episcopal churches. Protestors who claim love and unity as the virtue that guides them have turned hateful and even violent. All my certainty and naivety hide me from the truth that I have no concept of the painful, divisive reality that exists right here. The great thing though about saying I have no concept allows me to step out of a place of knowing the way forward, and perhaps it opens up to me a new opportunity to practice being faithful.

“For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.” These are the words that ended our reading from the Letter to the Colossians. We also heard within that letter, “He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” Paul meant in writing this that Christ tied, ties, and will tie together all things. However, as the Rev. Gay Jennings, the President of the House of Deputies, wrote this week reconciliation may be out of reach and pastorally inappropriate for some people at the moment. When people are scared or angry because of who they are, who they love, where they are from, what religion they practice, or whether or not they went to school we cannot expect that Christ will magically draw us back together in an instant.

Quite often we make a mistake in thinking that the way to unity is through victory over another, but reconciliation comes through the blood of his cross. Jesus was betrayed by his friends and followers, mocked and verbally abused by his religion, tortured by the Roman Empire, made to carry his own instrument of death, crucified, and surrounded by criminals, soldiers, and a hate-filled mob while he died. On the third day he rose from the dead, but somehow we as followers of Jesus do not wear an empty tomb, a sign of victory, around our necks. Instead we revere the cross, the image of defeat! In the darkest moment of his life, Jesus’ words were “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” While I say I have no concept of how we will heal the divisions in this country, what truly baffles me is how Jesus said this in response to all that had happened.

Simone Weil the 20^th Century French mystic described that the world is made up of gravity and grace. Gravity are those laws that govern the world; yes, physics, but also an eye for an eye, you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours, hate for hate, and love for love. Grace though, is different. Grace is non-complimentary behavior: love for hate, pardon for offense, another cheek, a second mile, and prayers for our enemy. Grace is the moment when in the face of an irreconcilable difference we choose the hard road that Jesus walked instead of the easy way of isolation. Grace is the Black Lives Matter protestors and Blue Lives Matter protestors crossing the street to embrace one another and jointly protest the loss of lives. Grace is the congregation that continues to speak love and forgiveness even though the KKK spray painted swastikas and “whites only” on their building. Grace is Jesus reaching out his arms of love on the hard wood of the cross so that everyone might come within the reach of his saving embrace (Book of Common Prayer, 101).

 

We are people of grace. Yes, we live in a world of gravity. Yes, drop an apple and it falls. And yes, give to Caesar what is Caesar’s. But, we are not people of gravity, we are people of grace! I may not fully comprehend grace, I have a hard time understanding how Jesus said, “Father, forgive them.” But I do know that the King I will always follow is Christ who even in the face of betrayal, division, and even death wanted nothing more than to draw people together, forgive sinners, and even welcome a criminal into his Kingdom! I may have no concept, but thankfully God does. And, I take great hope in following Christ as my King! I may not have a concept, but I have a King, Christ who reigns now and for ever.

Jesus Even Loves People Who Already Have Their Christmas Lights Up!

Last night on my drive home I involuntarily began yelling as I drove through my neighborhood. Fortunately the windows of my car were rolled up. What would cause me to scream at the top of my lungs? A Christmas tree and lights! I am sure if someone saw me as I drove by she would have thought I was a madman. Maybe I am, but on November 15^th we still have more than a week before Thanksgiving, and people are already trimming their trees? I even saw Christmas lights at some people’s homes before my Halloween decorations came down—granted I was slow to pull down my ghosts and Jack-o-lantern—but come on!

I have heard the argument from fellow Episcopal priests, that we just need to cede to the growing trend of stretching Christmas out to the day after Thanksgiving, and maybe I am being too harsh, but I draw the line there. Let me at least put up and take down a cornucopia before I have to see a neighbor’s Christmas lights! Of course, all this fuss might make it seem like I do not like Christmas. This is truly not the case!

As a kid the fall semester was in my humble opinion far superior to the spring one! Football starts in August, my birthday falls in September, Halloween is at the end of October, then Thanksgiving comes in November, and finally Christmas happens in December. Each month had its own festive flavor, which may be why I like Christmas to wait its turn. Let each celebration come in due time and let one build upon another. As a kid I really felt like this was the case, but now it’s all about Christmas!

From my perspective Christmas had lots of opportunities throughout the month of December to provide cheerful celebrations. Somehow I imagine that the Christmas parade in my hometown is now sometime in late August, but I knew that when we went out one Monday night at the start of December to see marching bands, floats, and finally Santa Claus himself the secular season of Christmas was underway. I loved going to that parade. I love parades in general. They are a great time to people watch, get free candy, and wave at strangers! I can remember sitting on one my parents shoulders and yelling at the people on the floats to toss me candy; however, what I longed for more than this was to catch the eye of Santa Claus.

As I look back on that feeling when Christmas was confined to December I wonder what would have happened if Santa Claus had gotten down off his float and come over to me to see how I was doing, or what I wanted for Christmas, or maybe even to come over to have dinner with my family. I am pretty sure I would not have known what to do. Of course—spoiler alert—that was not the real Santa Claus, but still it would have potentially changed my life. How much more then did it change Zacchaeus’ life for Jesus to call him down from his spot on the parade route through Jericho?!

Zacchaeus was a wee little man, a wee little man was he. That is typically what we remember about him, but this overlooks the fact that he was a rich, little man who gained his money from dishonest means. That does not sound as good in a kids’ song though! He took taxes from people and to become rich in this profession meant that he took more than was required. Sometimes I think the humor gets lost in the translation, but imagine a wealthy man today, perhaps a billionaire, who in the middle of a parade would go running and scurrying up a tree in his $4,000 suit and $1,000 loafers! The person of Jesus awakened in Zacchaeus something that turned him into a kid again. He was not worried about Christmas creeping into October, but instead this rich man along a parade route just wanted a glimpse of his Lord walking through town. 

When Jesus came by though he called Zacchaeus down from his perch. Jesus’ action enraged those who knew the ruthlessness of the tax collector. They criticized Jesus, but Zacchaeus having realized the pain he had caused his fellow people pledged to pay back his unfair gains fourfold and give to the poor in the community. This sinner underwent such a transformation merely because he climbed a tree to see Jesus, like kid along a parade route. 

Jesus comes to save not those who have been found already, not those who belong already, but those who are lost. To tell you the truth at times we are all lost. We get angry because our neighbors already have their Christmas lights up. We become enraged because things do not go our way. We even tend to think that somehow hating others will overcome hatred. Jesus though wants to save all of us who have gone astray. Instead of feeling lost may we allow Jesus to guide us. Instead of criticizing those on other sides of issues may we invite Jesus to bring us together. Instead of giving up on the rich man may we pray that Jesus finds him and calls him out of the tree and into the life of Christ!

Out of Time

Some topics no matter how many times I think about them always intrigue and confound me: how the techies have crammed so much firepower into the laptop at my fingertips, the length of our intestinal tracts within our bodies (eww gross), and how long ago it was that the light from stars began traveling towards us. It is this last one that really baffles me. In fact, just about every time I go camping, I find myself lost in an almost out of body experience, as I contemplate time and those celestial bodies. Maybe I would describe this more accurately if wrote that I find myself at those times in an out of time moment.

This coming Sunday is the end... of the Church Year, which is another out of time experience. Come November 27th we will begin the season of Advent when we prepare for the coming of Christ. Advent (with roots from the Latin verb to come or to arrive) bids us to look back at Christ's first coming, while looking ahead at Christ's coming again. We typically overlook that Christ is actually coming to us in this very moment, at this precise second, as you read these very words. (TRIPPY!) This Sunday, November 20th, provides a similar opportunity.

The last Sunday of the Church Year gives us the opportunity to look back at when through Jesus God initiated the reign of Christ. This Sunday gifts us with a time to look ahead at how we hope God will come more fully to reign over this world. And yet, just like Advent we often miss the opportunity for Christ's reign to take hold in this very moment. The opening collect (prayer) for this coming Sunday speaks from a place seemingly outside of time and lays out just what the Church hopes the reign of Christ brought/brings/will bring into this world:

"Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen."

As this world feels more and more separated by politics, race, religion, economics, gender, sexual orientation, and nationality, the sins of division enslave us. The tendency is to close ourselves off into echo chambers that will say what we want to hear and agree with our already entrenched stance or perspective. However, the Reign of Christ, which underlays all of reality already, invites us to be freed from the constraints that rip us from one another. While this coming together sounds wonderful and hopeful, it is not something that is easily accomplished, especially at this precise moment.

The more I read of post-election America, the more I speak with friends, family, and parishioners, and the more I experience this self-isolating world, the more I realize just how hurt everyone is. On all sides of all issues there is hurt, and not just a little bit of it. Some feel they have lost their country. Others feel they never belonged to it in the first place. Some feel worthless without work, while others feel neglected because of the color of their skin. Some dread the direction of the nation, while others fear that they will no longer be able to practice their Faith. Some even feel pain enough to inflict violence upon others, and those survivors then have to feel the pain of that violence. As we feel more and more divided these sins of separation will cling to us and isolate us even more. And yet, there is hope, although it is a sobering hope.

Instead of some triumphant passage of Jesus riding into the Holy City with fanfare or a powerful healing that Jesus performed the passage for this Sunday is Luke's telling of the Crucifixion. We remember the reign of Christ through the power that Jesus displayed in choosing to lay down his life, forgiving those who tortured and killed him, and inviting even the criminal next to him into Paradise. Jesus transformed a moment of complete isolation into the opportunity to draw all of creation together to be healed and for the reign of Christ to be most fully revealed. Division is not healed through might, nor is estrangement overcome through a better argument, nor by yelling or threatening another can we honestly persuade someone to earnestly change. A hurting world requires all of us instead to lay down our own lives, so that we might pick up our crosses and follow Jesus into the full reign of Christ. This means more listening and less talking, more openness and less stubbornness, and more cooperation and less competing over who's right and who's wrong.

The reign of Christ has begun... will you be a part of it?