Sunday, February 26, 2023

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.

 

Sunday, December 18, 2022

Waking Into God’s Dream

 

This week's Gospel is not only about Joseph's dream—it's also about waking up.

 

Isaiah 7:10-16

Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18

Romans 1:1-7

Matthew 1:18-25

 The Rev. Seth Olson © 2022

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

“I can’t do it,” said the little voice. I looked down at the six-year-old boy beside me. The genuine perplexity with which he said, “I can’t do it,” made it just about impossible for me to be upset. Of course, it was only the first day of camp, and pretty quickly I learned that whatever I asked this child to do—put on shoes, get ready for the pool, make his bed, brush his teeth—whatever I asked, the reply was always the same: “I can’t do it.”

By Tuesday, my feeling that this little one was a cute child of God had melted into thinking that perhaps this was a Job situation, and I was being tested by God Almighty. Only 15 years-old, at the time, I did not have a firm grip on my emotions (do I now?). So, as the camper kept saying, “I can’t do it,” my patience wore thinner and thinner. To top it off, the entire cabin of twelve children had seemingly caught this “I can’t bug,” as they all joined in the negative chorus.

Kevin Denson was the other leader in my cabin. We had been campers together for a few years, so we had a good rapport with one another. As we sat down on Tuesday evening, he looked as tired as I felt. So, I asked him, “What should we do?” His response was as malicious as it was brilliant, “Maybe we could use a devotion.” Of course, I thought, “We could turn to the Word of God to force misbehaving children into shaping up.” I know, I am not proud of what I did, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

That very same night we turned to verses in Scripture to illustrate our point. God does not want us to respond by saying “No, I can’t,” rather we are to say I can. Philippians 4:13 reads, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” “For God all things are possible,” Mark’s Gospel account proclaims. We hammered home our message by saying, instead of telling us I can’t do it, say I can, for God helps us to do all things.

Really, even though we had bad intentions the message was a good one. And, perhaps it was our brilliant teaching, but more likely it was that by Tuesday all the campers were exhausted. Hiking, horseback riding, canoeing, swimming, games, and singing—it all wore the campers out such that they fell fast asleep. At least, for a while.

What you may not know about the camp where I grew up is that the bathrooms are a short walk from the cabins. To teenage me that was nothing, but to a six-year-old in the middle of the night it must have felt like a lengthy trek. Now, sometime around two o’clock in the morning, the boy who had started the, “I can’t do it” movement came and knocked on my door. Half awake, I sat up in my bed. “Buddy, what do you need? It’s really late.” He responded, “I can. I can go to the bathroom.” By which, he really meant I can’t go to the bathroom, at least not without a leader. I got a little teary-eyed as I found my bathhouse sandals. This sweet little child of God had tried his best to understand our message. He tried to stay positive and to say, “Yes, I can with God’s help,” even if he could not.

So often we think of Advent as Mary’s season of “yes,” but today’s Gospel lesson depicts Joseph as a profound model of “I can do this” with God’s help. Joseph, does not get a lot of publicity, but he is a model of faith, an example of trust, and a righteous man, or at least he becomes one with God’s help! Yet digging deeper reveals that this story is not just about Joseph affirming God’s call, it is about us—you and me, this community—taking part in God’s YES! So, let’s take a look closer.

In those days, betrothal, like that between Mary and Joseph, was a legal and binding contract made between the elders of families. Mary and Joseph may not have had much say in this process. Then, when Joseph discovered Mary was with child, he would have been right within the law, according to the book of Deuteronomy (22:23-27), not only to dismiss his betrothed quietly, but also to put her to death, as she had broken the contract. This is an instance of what is legal, what is ethical or Godly being worlds apart! Yet, Joseph planned to say, “I can’t do it,” in a respectful manner. Then, everything changed.

“Just when Joseph resolved to [dismiss Mary quietly], an angel of the Lord appeared to him.” At the start of the dream, the angel identified Joseph, as the Son of David, which put some historical perspective around this. This correct identification also meant that God knew exactly who Joseph was. God intervened into Joseph’s life to invite this Son of David into something different.

The beginning of Matthew’s Gospel account reads like a beta version of Ancestry.com, which is amusing, except that so many of the members of David’s line did not adhere to the way of God—did any of them? Even David didn’t. There were troubling women in Jesus’ ancestry primarily because there were unfaithful men in his lineage. Bathsheba’s wrong doing was because of David’s own, Tamar’s was a result of Judah’s, and Joseph could have added to that, but he did not.[1]

If you know anything about generational trauma this tiny step is huge. Joseph stopped a cycle. Do we hope for something more from Jesus’ earthly father? Of course! Still to dismiss Mary quietly was a start, or more correctly stated, it was an opening that God utilized.

In this opening, the angel first invited Joseph to live without fear. Yes, it’s easier said than done. And yet, without fear Joseph could then hear the messenger say that this child was not ill-conceived but conceived by the Holy Spirit. God’s Spirit came to bear life in Mary in this unique way. Once his trepidation waned, Joseph could hear God’s good news—that this child within his betrothed was holy.

As the dream continued, Joseph learned that he was to name this child Jesus. While this was nothing novel in Jewish history, as Ishmael, Isaac, Solomon, and Josiah all had their names revealed to their family in dreams, God was doing something new here! The angel indicated what was meant by this name.

Jesus, or Joshua in Hebrew, means Savior. He would save his people from their sins. The child within Mary would wipe away the disconnection, the wrong, and the hurt that kept people from God, from each other, and from their truest selves. This was good news in a good dream, but we cannot live merely in dreams.

Perhaps the most unremarkable bit of this passage is that Joseph woke up. However, he did more than simply opening his eyes. In Advent, we sing songs like, “Sleepers Wake,”—“When we hear the heralds singing,
and in our hearts new joy is springing; we wake, and rise up from our gloom; for our Friend comes down all-glorious.”[2] This sounds like Joseph who woke up to see not a dream but God’s truth. With God’s help, Joseph made the impossible dream come true! The “I can’t do it” in the nighttime turned into the “I can” of the morning.

You might be saying, “Okay, so why is all of this important to me?” or “This is all so crazy, why did it happen this way?” Could God have come into this world in another way? Certainly! Who are we to limit the Creator of the Universe? Matthew though, added a prophecy to help interpret this passage.

Isaiah, the prophet, foretold of this miraculous birth. Yes, Joseph was to name him Jesus, but the child would grow into Emmanuel, which means “God is with us.” The reality that Joseph awakened into was God is with us! The God of all Creation came to be with us! At the end of Matthew’s Gospel account, Jesus reiterated this truth saying, “I will be with you always, even to the end of the ages.” God comes to be with us—in Creation, in stillness, in relationship, in song, in Scripture, in worship, in dreams, but in the person of Jesus, God shows us the fullness of what it means for God to dwell with us. In response, we are called to be like Joseph, and maybe that sounds like a low bar.

However, Joseph could have said no to this dream. Joseph could have dismissed Mary. Joseph could have even had Mary put to death. Yet, he listened not to his ancestry, but to the messenger of God. We too are asked to be open to what God is calling us to do and who God is calling us to be. Joseph said I can do this with your help, God. The way in which God responded was by coming to be with Mary and Joseph. We too are invited with each other’s help, with God’s help to heal generational wounds, to dream with the Spirit, and to awaken, so that we might make God’s dream a reality!

Advent is a season of Mary’s yes, and it is a season of Joseph’s yes. This means it’s a season of YES AND! It’s a time for healing AND for dreaming. It’s a chance for us to wake up AND make the dream come true. It’s a season of bearing Christ AND being with those who do! This Advent, I wonder, how is God transforming your “I can’t do it” into “I can with God’s help”? I wonder, what is God’s dream for you, for All Saints, and for this community? I wonder, in what ways are you awakening to the truth of Emmanuel? As we move ever closer to the Season of the Incarnation remember that God is with us then, now, and even unto the end of the ages.



[1] Joy J. Moore, “Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A.” on Sermon Brainwave Podcast. [released December 10, 2022. Accessed December 13, 2022. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/sermon-brainwave-876-fourth-sunday-of-advent/id1538186845?i=1000589921282].

[2] “Sleepers Wake.” In Hymnal 1982. Words: Philipp Nicolai. Translation: Carl P. Daw Jr.. Music: Wachet auf, melody Hans Sachs, adapted by Philipp Nicolai; originally by Johann Sebastian Bach.