The Paradox of Following Christ

Among the several paradoxes in today's readings is Christ's call: If you want to save your life, you must lose it.

 © Seth Olson 2021

February 21, 2021—The Second Sunday in Lent

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

Psalm 22:22-30

Romans 4:13-25

Mark 8:31-38

 

A video of this sermon may be found here.

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

I love a good paradox. You know something that is a both/and! Observing something seemingly absurd or self-contradictory that when investigated proves to be well founded or true[1] usually makes me think or laugh. Think about those delightful figures of speech called oxymorons that slam together conflicting words.

Phrases like “jumbo shrimp” “deafening silence” “act naturally” “alone together” or “small crowd”. Our everyday speech overflows with contradictions—and they usually make us think or laugh. However, when we begin talking about religion, Faith, or our relationship with God, I believe, we want anything but a contradiction. Especially after this year of twists and turns, disharmony and isolation, disease and death, we yearn for our connection with God to be plain and simple. Can’t we just press the easy button?

The lessons for this day, the Second Sunday in Lent, are anything but straight-forward. Sorry! Especially in Genesis 17, Psalm 22, and Mark 8 paradoxes abound, but before we throw up our hands in exhaustion or tell God to just call us when the tomb is empty and victory is won, let us sit with the contradictions, the complications, and the enigmas present in these lessons.

For as we explore with our hearts, souls, minds, and strength, we may see that God does not shy away from the messiness of our lives, but instead, that messiness is precisely where God meets us. God continually steps into human frailty calling us into wholeness—even in the chaos that has been 2020 and 2021.

Last week Mary Bea pointed out the covenants that God makes with God’s Chosen People throughout the stories of the Hebrew Bible—Covenants of Life, Land, Law, and Lineage. We heard about God making the Covenant of Life with Noah seven days ago. Today, we hear about the Covenant of Land, or we would have heard it if our lesson did not cut out verses 8-14. Although the Covenant of Land is crucial to the People of Israel, God does not stop there with Abram. God steps into the messiness of the relationship between Abram and Sarai to make another covenant.

God had already given Abram a son, Ishmael, but Sarai was not Ishmael’s biological mother. Sarai’s servant Hagar was. Forming this strangely blended family created tensions in the relationships between Abram and Sarai and Hagar. Sarai could not stand for Hagar to be around, so she made her leave. With Hagar and Ishmael gone and getting advanced in years, Sarai’s hopes of being a mother were finished. God though was not finished. God entered the life of Abram again, but this time God’s promise was not simply to Abram.

God stepped into the chaos of Sarai’s life to make her a promise of childbirth—even though she was 90-years-old. If there ever were an oxymoronic phrase “nonagenarian pregnancy” might be it. And, as a mark of God not only stepping into the strangeness, but also bringing a blessing from it, God gave Abram and Sarai new names: Abraham and Sarah. They became the parents of many nations. What do we learn from the paradox of this story? God enters the complications and complexities of human lives to show us the truth, that God is ever walking with us, even when divine presence appears absurd or contradictory!

The paradoxes though are only getting started. You might remember our Psalm for today from such occasions as the Palm Sunday Passion Gospel, Good Friday liturgy, and the Last Words of Christ. Typically, what we hear from Psalm 22 is “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” Such a soulful lament could never end in hopefulness, praise, or faithfulness… and yet, this Psalm does! It is not unique for its shape, many Psalms twist from lamentation to exaltation, but something special does resound from this psalm.

Psalm 22 expands the scope of God’s Reign. In it we discover that God’s Kingdom does not just encompass the People of Israel long ago, but all the nations to the ends of the earth, to those yet unborn, and for all generations forever. God reaches into human lives even when we are fearful or believe God has forsaken us, for God’s Reign is larger than any of our fears or doubts. What we discover from the paradoxes of this Psalm: God enters the complications and complexities of human lives to show us the truth, that God is ever walking with us throughout all Creation and forever, even when divine presence appears absurd or contradictory!

Speaking of contradictions—is there a more challenging paradox than, “For those who want to save their life will lose it.”? How can you have a life if you have given it away? This sounds like eating a cake and having it too. Without proper context we might assume that Jesus in today’s Gospel lesson is telling us to die for the cause. Maybe. But, as we expand our vision to see beyond this eye-catching phrase, we observe there is more to this paradox.

In the section right before today’s passage, Peter called Jesus the Messiah or the Christ. Peter was right—Jesus was (and is) the Messiah, the Christ, but Peter was wrong in what he meant by that statement. Peter thought Jesus would vanquish all the enemies of God’s People. Like some warrior king of old, Jesus would conquer Rome, and the disciples would preside sitting upon thrones in regal palaces. So, when Jesus taught that being the Christ meant undergoing great suffering, rejection, and death, Peter could not stand it. He interrupted Jesus and rebuked his teacher in private.

Seemingly, Jesus did not take kindly to Peter’s mistaken understanding of “Messiahship.” He not only rebuked Peter, calling him a stumbling block, which we translate as “Satan”, but he also corrected the erroneous teaching in front of not only the disciples, but the crowds too.

What was the teaching? To be a follower—not just on social media, but in real life (IRL)—one must deny oneself, take up one’s cross, and follow Jesus. To gain life in Christ is a paradoxical endeavor—not just long ago, but in our day too. Life in Christ calls us to lose our lives—not in the sense that we go looking for a fight or intentionally seeking suffering. We must lose our life in the way that Peter eventually did.

Thanks be to God for Peter’s paradoxical witness. This shaky one was astonishingly the rock on which Jesus built the Church. It took rebuking Jesus and being called Satan. It required denying Jesus three times before the cock crowed on Good Friday. It necessitated hiding away until the women found the tomb empty, but eventually Peter lost his life enough to take hold of new life. He finally let go of his dream of who Jesus was, so that he could take hold of God’s dream of who Peter was to be.

This is what we can do too! We can let go of what we imagine God is supposed to be doing for us in our world and we can listen for what God is dreaming our lives are to be. God enters the complications and complexities of human lives to show us the truth, that God is ever walking with us throughout all Creation and forever, and even when divine presence appears absurd or contradictory, we are called to live the life God dreams for us!

We see the truth of this in the lives of Abraham, Sarah, the Psalmist, and Peter. And, it is true for us too! God enters the brokenness, the messiness, and the sinfulness of our lives… God walks with us even when we are in complicated relationships with our family, friends, or neighbors… God is with us when we wonder “Why have you forsaken me?”… God calls us to let go of life, so we may take hold of God’s dream for us. We do not have to understand, nor can we even comprehend all the paradoxes of life.

And yet, in all those vexing both/and moments God is not only present, but also calling us to see the profound dream that God has for us individually and collectively.

This week, our Lenten Speaker is the Rev. Katie Nakamura Rengers, and in her beautiful, challenging presentation she wonders, how is the Spirit calling us to form the Church at this odd time in human history and Church history? For us to meet this moment of challenge, we may very well find ourselves holding onto new paradoxes—being a church without walls, taking the altar out into the world, and hearing the Spirit speaking in mundane or secular spaces. God is dreaming—are we listening?

God enters the complications and complexities of human lives to show us the truth, that God is ever walking with us throughout all Creation and forever, and even when divine presence appears absurd or contradictory, we are called to live the life God dreams for us not just here and on Sundays, but everywhere and everyday! Amen.

---

[1] “Paradox” from OxfordLanguages [accessed 2/24/2021. https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=paradox].

 

Healed To Serve

Mass healing did not only happen in ages past, but what do we do once we are healed?

© Seth Olson 2021

February 7, 2021—The Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany

Isaiah 40:21-31

Psalm 147:1-12, 21c

1 Corinthians 9:16-23

Mark 1:29-39

Video of this sermon may be found here.

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

The scene was frenzied! A mass of humanity descended from all over the area. What were they all doing here? Nearly a thousand people heard that healing was suddenly available to them! They hoped that this would change their lives. And, in this hopeful state it seemed like the whole city gathered there. What scene am I describing? No, I am not talking about the makeshift triage clinic of spiritual salvation that Jesus provided to Capernaum in today’s Gospel lesson, I am telling you about people unexpectedly receiving the COVID-19 vaccine.

During the last week of January up in Seattle a freezer malfunctioned, so a nearby hospital had only nine hours to distribute over 800 vaccinations before they spoiled. Thanks be to God no vaccine went to waste! Back at the beginning of January, a hospital in California had to do the same thing—they gave out 830 shots in two hours! Then, there were the public health workers that were stranded in an Oregon snowstorm. The healthcare team from Josephine County went from car to car to ensure that their leftover doses did not go to waste. Healing—beautiful, miraculous healing is happening all around us! (For more on these stories click here.)This does not even touch on all the life-giving treatment that doctors, nurses, technicians, chaplains, and other hospital staff have continually provided over the last year!

We are witnessing the good news of communal healing from a virus that has taken far, far too many of those whom we love. Our own day’s mass healing calls to mind what happened in today’s Gospel lesson when so many were healed in Capernaum. As we discern how we continue following Christ during this time of hopeful healing, one specific life-giving transformation in today’s Gospel lesson provides us with inspiration. Let us take a closer look at Jesus’ restoration of Simon’s mother-in-law—from this one story we can observe how many were healed.

Right before Jesus arrived at Simon and Andrew’s home, he cast out a demon from a man in a Capernaum synagogue—this was last week’s Gospel lesson. This restorative work of the demon possessed man would have raised some eyebrows, as it was done on the Sabbath. In today’s lesson, Jesus doubled down on the importance of doing God’s work, even on the Sabbath, as he healed Simon’s mother-in-law who was sick with a fever. We might simply think that when Simon’s mother-in-law was sick, she was just missing out on fixing some sandwiches for her son-in-law’s buddies. However, in those days on the Sabbath women were not at synagogue praying when the men were. Instead, they were at home preparing a special meal. I will leave the troublesome implications of gender roles for another sermon, for now think about it this way: Simon’s mother-in-law was not able to fulfill a very meaningful calling on that day.

Simon’s mother-in-law could not do what she felt God was asking her to do. She could not fulfill her vocation of serving others. So, for the second time on this Sabbath day Jesus himself served others by bringing God’s healing into this world. What did this healing look like?

The text we just heard reads, “[Jesus] came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.” There’s another version, which states after taking her by the hand Jesus “raised her up” so that she could enter into service—this verb is the same as the one used to describe Jesus being raised from the dead. So, Jesus resurrected her.

This is foreshadowing of other healings, when Jesus will raise up children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, and friends! This is also an echo that calls back from the future, it is a foretaste of Jesus’ own Resurrection triumphantly called forth by Our Heavenly Father.

Back to this healing, Simon’s mother-in-law was on the precipice of death, but then Christ Jesus brought her into new life. For us who seek healing in our day, I wonder, do we see restoration in the same light? Do we envision it to be like Resurrection? Over the last year, how many of us have felt as Simon’s mother-in-law did? If not us, we certainly have known others who have experienced this in the last twelve months. Today’s Gospel lesson makes it clear that a plethora of healings took place on the night that Sabbath ended, but Mark focused on this one in which Simon’s mother-in-law was raised up. I wonder, why? Once, she was raised what happened?

She began to serve them. I do not think I can overemphasize the importance of this witness to us. Yes, this seems painfully unrealistic—one does not immediately jump into caring for others after recovering from COVID-19. And yet, this is not simply about returning to work—this is about resurrected life!

This word service is not just a throw away term, nor was it one that rested solely on the to-do list of women in the 1^st Century. Earlier in this very chapter, Mark described Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. Who served him? Angels. Then, later in this Gospel account, Jesus himself described his ministry in this way, “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve.” What does it mean to take part in Christ’s reign in this world? What shall we do when we are healed? What does resurrected life look like? Service! We are to be like Simon’s mother-in-law, like angels, and like Jesus.

As a wise one recently put it, our resurrected life, our life in Christ is “not about what I get, but my response because [of what] I have received” (Joy J.Moore on the Sermon Brainwave Podcast this week). Simon’s mother-in-law understood she was restored to then fulfill her vocation of serving like angels did, like Christ would do. She had a vision of God’s call for her that helped her to see that it was not about what she got from Jesus, but how she would respond.

Regardless of who we are, where we are from, or what we do, part of our identity as followers of Jesus stems from service. We are to be like Simon’s mother-in-law, like angels, like Jesus. We are to take part in a resurrected life following the Son of Man who came not to be served, but to serve. Responding to this call, of course, is not easy. I certainly struggle with it at times.

You may know this, but all priests are ordained to be deacons first. This role, which literally means servant, comes with the following job description: “The ministry of a deacon is to represent Christ and his Church, particularly as a servant of those in need; and to assist bishops and priests in the proclamation of the Gospel and the administration of the sacraments” (The Catechism on page 856 in The Book of Common Prayer). Deacons have the painful, but crucial responsibility of putting the needs of the world front and center in the life of the Church. All priests and bishops started off as deacons. Why? So, they first learn to serve! When I was ordained a deacon, I did not like it at first. Who am I to speak for the world? But, over time all of us not just deacons or priests or bishops—all of us who take part in the resurrected life of Christ are called to serve and to speak up for the hurting in this world.

As though it were not enough to have the example of Simon’s mother-in-law prepping a meal for disciples, or angels waiting on Jesus, or Our Lord caring for his own disciples; we also have another example of service given to us today. Today is Scout Sunday! Our scouts provide examples of caring for our larger community. Whether they are earning merit badges for public service; building bridges, benches, or playgrounds in our area; or installing some AEDs that have already saved someone’s life—they exemplify service for us.

You do not have to be a scout to serve though. There are a multitude of ways for all of us to live a resurrected life of service:

• Bring water for Uniontown here to All Saints between 9:30-11:30 this Friday morning
• Volunteer to help at Community Kitchens on February 27th
• Bring food by All Saints for the Woodlawn Food Pantry
•  Volunteer or contribute to relief efforts in Center Point and Fultondale
• Sign up to be on the Commons Crew to help set up for the outdoor 11:00 service beginning again in Lent
• Join a Care Team here at All Saints

There are some other ways to serve your neighbor—even if you are unable to reach out through any program at church.

• Wear your mask.
• Wash your hands.
• Keep physically distant.
• Get the vaccine when it is your time.

All of these are ways to say, “I care about you, my neighbor. I want to serve you by protecting you and your loved ones from the continued spread of this disease.”

We are called to serve like Simon’s mother-in-law preparing a feast for Jesus and his friends, like we are ministering to Jesus in the wilderness, like Jesus served his friends before his death. There are a multitude of ways to be a servant to one another. How will you take part in Christ raising you up, resurrecting you, so that you may minister to others? For we are all called to live a risen life of service to one another! Amen.

Lost and Found

Yes, not all who wander are lost, but for those who are lost, know there is one seeking you.

 

© Seth Olson 2021
January 17, 2021—Second Sunday after the Epiphany

1 Samuel 3:1-10(11-20)
Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17

 1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51

 

A video of this sermon may be found here. 

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

Over the last ten months we have felt great loss—our way of being, jobs, days at school, big events, small “normal” moments, and worst of all loved ones. And, over the last eleven days we have felt not only loss but lost. There are wise, prophetic ones among us who have pointed to a sort of rudderless drifting apart in our country for years even decades, but a violent mob attacking the very seat of our democracy crystallized just how unmoored and divided we are as people. As we glide without clear direction, I yearn to be found. I yearn for us all to be found.

This desire for us to be found and brought back together does not mean that those who incite and enact violence, whether in the streets across our country or in the halls within our Capitol, should not face justice. We would float further adrift by simply jumping from here to peace without there being consequences to make right what has gone wrong. As the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (whom we celebrate tomorrow) said, “There can be no justice without peace, and there canbe no peace without justice.” Even enacting justice though may not move us from being lost to being found. We will, I believe, still be a divided and lost nation, as long as we tether ourselves to self-serving power, see each other as the enemy within, and do not seek to find Christ within our “lost” neighbors. (To be clear, each and every one of us is lost from time-to-time.) What do we do?

Have you ever lost something? I worked at a camp for several summers, and without fail every Saturday morning when a session would end, a giant mound of lost items would appear. In the midst of the madness of camp checkout, staff members and hut leaders would lay out dusty hats, wet aqua socks, and discarded box fans. Then every week, a determined mother keenly aware that her son had forgotten his new pair of shoes would drag him all the way back from the parking lot to pick them out of that pile.

Or, a father knew his child well enough to get that she had forgotten the fan they bought specifically for camp. How did they know? It is amazing to see the determination of a parent who realizes her child has forgotten something—it’s even more amazing to see our Incarnate God in search of not a lost item, but us who are lost.

In today’s Gospel account we see Jesus finding two disciples. We observe with great clarity not only Emmanuel—God with us—but also a God who seeks and finds us. Jesus makes quick work of finding Philip, but what may be more pertinent to our current state of wandering is how Jesus and Philip find Nathanael.

John’s Gospel account simply states that upon Jesus arriving in Galilee he found Philip. All it took to win this one over was for Jesus to declare, “Follow me.” Immediately, then Philip “found” Nathanael. Of course, describing this as a “finding” seems premature—sure Phil saw his buddy Nathan, but the latter friend still seemed lost.

Philip excitedly described meeting Jesus, blurting out, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” Imagine being part of a people who had waited for generations, for centuries to see the fulfillment of both the law and the prophets. Then, instead of finding that one, that one actually finding you! Nathanael though remained more practical, pragmatic, skeptical, even to the point of cynicism.

Does this sound familiar? It sounds like where many of us are. We wait for the other shoe to drop! Nathanael though is like the “You are here” dot on the shopping mall map, but where are we going? Come and see.

Nathanael responded to Philip’s excitement with a wet-blanket-of-a-statement: “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Nathanael had a point! Nazareth was not a place that was highlighted by the prophets. Bethlehem? Yes! Nazareth? No.

So, Nathanael presupposed the skepticism and cynicism we have in our current moment: Can anything good come from our current struggles as a country?

If you anxiously doom-scroll through Twitter, Facebook, or other social media, you will probably answer that question with a big NO! As we nervously anticipate the next moment of horror in our world, our country, our state, our city, or our own lives we easily gravitate towards questions like, “Can anything good come from the left? From the right? Montgomery? Washington D.C.? This president? The next president? My crazy family member? My annoying neighbor?

With this sort of questioning, I wonder if Nathanael even wanted to be found. Yes, Philip “found” him and even coaxed him into meeting Jesus, but a cloud of cynicism remained. I wonder if that’s how you feel. It is a sensation, along with emotions like fear, anger, and sadness that I feel.

Sometimes these emotions are difficult to sit with. Maybe we are not anxious like Nathanael, but perhaps we escape in another way—maybe we busy ourselves like Martha. We in the Church often draw the distinction between Martha and Mary. Martha was a do-er. She eagerly set about at tasks and blamed her own unhappiness on her sister’s inaction. Mary instead “chose the better path,” as Jesus put it. For she sat and learned from Christ Jesus. She was a be-er.

We do not as often contrast the two disciples in today’s Gospel lesson. Nathanael was doubting, individualistic, and straight-forward. Philip was curious, simple, and winsome. More on both men in a moment. In truth though, we are neither Martha nor Mary, we are both women. We must have both and are encouraged to integrate the gift of being present even into moments of doing. Likewise, we are both Philip and Nathanael.

Why we might yearn to be like Philip appears self-evident. He believed Jesus easily. He followed him. He did not use a hammer to attract his friend to Jesus, but rather he simply said, “Come and see.” He in some ways is like Mary—a faithful straightforward believer.

Being like Nathanael does not carry the same self-apparent shine, even if it is how a lot of us feel right now. He doubted his friend. He was skeptical. He was even cynical. And yet, his own transformation helps us all the more in this challenging moment.

Straightaway when Jesus saw Nathanael coming, he proclaimed, “Here is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael was put back. “Where did you get to know me?” he wondered aloud. In Nathanael’s words we discover that Jesus spoke truthfully. Nathanael was a straightforward man—an opinionated one who would not hold back, as seen in his “Can anything good?” questioning.

Jesus’ responded to Nathanael’s question by saying, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” With this Nathanael was blown away! Most scholars are not quite sure why this of all things unlocked Nathanael’s faithfulness, as he then called Jesus, not only “Rabbi” meaning teacher, but also the Son of God! Two helpful and relatable insights though about Nathanael being spotted under a fig tree.

First, fig trees are symbolic in Israel. We find them mentioned throughout the Hebrew Bible. In the First Book of Kings, during King Solomon’s reign each man lived under his own vine and fig tree. This tree represented the safety, security, and dignity of having one’s own home, but there was also something individualistic about it. Our own first President George Washington was fond of this imagery, as fans of the musical Hamilton may recall from the song “One Last Time.” Back to our passage, perhaps it was just Nathanael sitting under a tree, or maybe he was safe, secure, and dignified, if a bit isolated there. Regardless through Philip Jesus called him from there—Jesus did this by seeing him.

This is the second helpful, relatable bit for us. Some believe Jesus’ seeing to be a mystical ability to see when not actually present. Maybe, and sure that is amazing. What might be even more profound though, emerges when we recognizethat the one through whom everything was made, God, who created the universe,saw Nathanael. Nathanael had this epiphany too. Nathanael was noticed by God Incarnate. He was not alone though.

Friends, you are noticed by God too. God sees you—like a loving parent searching for you—even more than she or he searches for lost aqua socks. Jesus ends this encounter with another powerful image.

When Nathanael marveled at being seen, Jesus described an even more marvelous site. “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” This allusion is to Jacob’s vision in Genesis 28—Jacob’s ladder is something that many of us learned in Sunday School. What is remarkable though is that Jacob was not praying to God nor seeking God. Instead, Jacob was on the run, anxiously living his life, trying to makeit on his own. Does this sound familiar? To me it sounds like us!

We are living in disturbing days. In these times we may find it easier to apprehensively live our lives running away like Jacob, over-functioning like Martha, or being dismissive like Nathanael. These paths of escapism, busyness, and cynicism may make us feel safe, but we will eventually get lost. The good news is that our God does not wait for us to say, “Speak for your servant is listening,” like Samuel did in our first lesson. God is always speaking, but are we listening? Even if we are not, God seeks us out, like a shepherd looking for a lost sheep, like a parent looking for a lost child, like Jesus looking for a not-yet-found disciple. Come and see a path that leads to new life. A path that leads to justice, reconciliation, and true peace. Through Christ God seeks you, through Christ God finds you, and through Christ God calls us all to follow him into love. Amen.