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February 17, 2008
Beth Foote - Feb 17, 2008
Romans 4: 1-5, 13-17; John 3: 1-17; Psalm 121
Luther was forever changed by this epiphany that grace is a free gift from God, and many historians say that the Reformation really began with Luther’s “Tower Experience.”
The other juicy, beautiful text we have today is the story of Nicodemus from the Gospel of John, which includes the classic verse John 3:16.
Nicodemus was a Pharisee, and member of the powerful Sanhedrin council who condemned Jesus. Scholars believe that Nicodemus can be traced to Nicodemus ben Gurion a wealthy Jew who lived in Jerusalem in the first century C.E.
Nicodemus visits Jesus secretly at night, and the darkness is a significant piece of the story. African American slaves felt a kinship with the Nicodemus story because in the ante-bellum South slaves could only worship at night. Perhaps Nicodemus was sneaking out at night so no one would know he was talking to Jesus. Perhaps you could say that Nicodemus was enslaved in a way by the powerful system he was a part of; at that time, the Sanhedrin had become a puppet of the Roman occupation. What did Nicodemus see in Jesus that caused him to seek him out secretly, under cover of darkness?
I confess, I feel a kinship with Nicodemus. He is one of us, one of the well-heeled city dwellers, one of the respected ones, who is comfortable in their home at night, who has enough to eat, who has the weight of religious tradition behind them. And then he meets Jesus. The challenger, the truth-bearer.
In their conversation, Jesus says to Nicodemus, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Of course, Nicodemus takes this literally and gets stuck on the metaphor of birth. He says, “How can this be?” Like Mary at the Annunciation, he wonders at the miraculous. “How can this be?”
This passage is the original context of the term “born again.” To be a “born again” Christian has become an American cultural phenomenon. In “born again” Christianity, one knows exactly when you were born again, or accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior. And it’s only after that moment of personal conversion that one is baptized.
How do we do we see conversion in the Episcopal Church? I’d like to point out that in our baptism service we ask, “Do you turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Savior? Do you put your whole trust in his grace and love? Do you promise to follow and obey him as your Lord? (BCP 302-303) That’s pretty darn direct. It sounds like the process of being “born again,” to me. But in our tradition, we often say those words as parents for our infant children, and our parents might have said them for us. We ourselves may not have a decisive “conversion moment.”
I suggest that if you’re looking for something special to do in Lent, meditating on that one question in the service for Baptism could be your discipline. Like many vows we take in life--marriage comes to mind--the questions answered at baptism take years to live into and understand. That is one of the reasons why we usually have baptisms during a Sunday morning service: to pledge our support as a community, and to have the opportunity to repeat our baptismal vows. and say those words over and over again.
In the Episcopal Church I would say the process of conversion is usually a slower process of “inwardly digesting” Scripture, participating in the Sacraments, and learning from each other as we serve as members of a faith community. One way is not necessarily better than the other, but I think it’s important to understand that conversion not just about “being saved” myself as in “I’ve got mine” vs. “you don’t.” Rather, it means a lifelong process of accepting God’s grace and responding to Christ through service.
Lent is a good time to do this kind of work, to examine where we are on our faith journey, or using another vocabulary, in the conversion process. Like Nicodemus, we often approach Jesus when we are in the dark or searching for deeper meaning. Jesus meets us in the dark. He listens but he also challenges. He speaks, but we often hear the message and respond with “How can this be?”
Jesus says, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.” One commentary I read this week said that the water Jesus refers to here is not baptism as we assume; as a Jew, Nicodemus had no knowledge of baptism. When Jesus talks about being “born again,” Nicodemus naturally thought of the watery fluid released during the birthing process. As women know, birthing takes time, and is mysterious. For me, that mystery included a deep sense of the physical and spiritual being intertwined. Like Water and the Spirit are intertwined. I think it’s important here that Jesus underscores the reality of physical birth and spiritual birth; they are inseparable in our lifelong process of spiritual formation. Jesus challenges Nicodemus and us to widen our vision, go beyond the literal.
Working hard is part of our culture. We tend to believe that if we work harder, we will succeed. The early bird gets the worm. My daughter the college student uses that term, “pull an all nighter.” Just be more focused. Use best practices. That’s part of the American work ethic, the Silicon Valley work ethic. We unconsciously also apply that ethos to our relationship with God
But Jesus says, “Do not be astonished that I said to you, “You must be born from above. The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?”
I love it when we hear the humorous edge to Jesus’ voice. In addition to being mysterious, the birth process is capricious. If we go with nature, babies are born on their own timetables. It’s the same way with our spiritual formation. There IS capriciousness to life in the Spirit. Some people DO have conversion experiences. Some people don’t. God doesn’t schedule conference calls. Holy epiphanies come while we’re in the shower, or on the freeway, or cooking dinner, or exercising. God’s time is Kairos, outside of our everyday 24/7 structures. God’s spirit blows where it will.
Ultimately, the initiative comes from God. Martin Luther’s revelation about the passage from Romans was correct, we are justified by faith, and grace is a gift. But I believe that we have to keep our ears and eyes open to hear it, understand it, and feel that deep acceptance of God’s love. As we hear in the classic verse this morning, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life,” God reaches out to us through the Incarnation of Jesus, the mystery of the Cross, and Resurrection. Grace is always a free gift. And like Nicodemus and Martin Luther, we may need to be in a searching mode to be ready to notice the gift, accept it, and sense God’s deep freely given love for us.
And I must add, that once having accepted God’s grace, Christ asks us to act in His name in compassion and justice, to take the risks for our faith that Nicodemus took. For the encounter with Jesus was the first installment in the Nicodemus story. Later in John’s Gospel we see Nicodemus stand up for Jesus at the trial, and later, after the Crucifixion, risk an enormous amount by joining with Joseph of Arimathea in anointing Jesus’ body. In the Eastern Church Nicodemus is known as “the myrrh-bearer” because he brought 100 pounds of myrrh to the tomb. Handling dead bodies was something that would have made him very unclean under the temple purity system. Martin Luther accepted God’s grace and then went on to nail the 95 Theses on the Wittenberg cathedral door.
Grace is free and it changes us forever.
May we continue to grow in our response to that grace, with acts of compassion and justice. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.
February 06, 2008
Beth Foote - Ash Wednesday 2008
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…
On Saturday afternoon, I saw her ashes beautifully displayed on the table in front of the altar, by the Pascal candle, and I was moved. Once again, I experienced the finality of death. Ashes. Irene is not here. Just ashes with her name on them.
It was a jolt. Irene was 92, her life had been full and complete, and yet the jolt of reality was still there. Irene, as we knew her, was gone. But it was a good jolt. To mourn someone and realize and how much we loved her. It wasn’t a bad jolt, but a “reality check” in the best sense of the word; she was truly one of the community of saints.
And I think Ash Wednesday can be that kind of positive jolt, a good reality check. In a way, it’s a mini-preview of our own burial, that we ourselves get to attend. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. It makes us think of our beginnings and our endings. Ash Wednesday invites us to think about our mortality.
Beatrice Buttreau writes in her book, Easter Mysteries:
“We human beings are made of dust---star dust—as is everything else in this universe. The cells of our bodies…are composed of molecules made of atoms whose complex nuclei were fused together in the fiery hearts of exploding stars…we are a traffic of molecules, constantly coming and going, building up and forms coming part…Living is the name for this traffic, this constant motion, this coming and going, this building and destroying, this birthing and dying. The human body is always being built up from the dust and is always reverting to dust. The situation is not so simple as being born once and dying once. Coming to be and passing away are going on all the time…”
I think it is important to hold these two ideas together: ashes to ashes, mortal start and mortal finish, along with this dynamic, amazing, ever changing process that is called living. As Christians, God calls us to channel the process of living so that we become more like Christ. To do this, we occasionally need to do some spring cleaning, clear some space, roll up the rugs so that we have more room to dance with God.
This is what I think Lent is all about, a time to look at ourselves at this specific point in time and ask, “where are we in terms of our relationship with God?” Given that we are constantly changing, what direction is that change moving in? What fine tuning do we need to do so that we can better hear the voice of God who calls us and beckons us?
That is the point of the traditional Lenten disciplines, to draw us closer to God in the midst of our busy lives. “Giving up” something like a certain food, or fasting on certain days, has been seen as a way to become closer to God. And let’s admit it, we all have daily habits that are all about satisfying the self. Our culture encourages us to satisfy our every personal craving. Perhaps Lent is a time to examine those daily habits and see if they’re helping you in your relationship with God. But as Jesus says in our gospel reading, do not use disciplines like fasting as a way to boast or call attention to ourselves as pious people. Jesus wants us to use such changes as a way to become closer to Him. When we change our usual patterns, we gain clarity. I’ve always been a night owl, and I’m know for being barely civil in the morning, yet over the last year or so I’ve learned to appreciate getting up early on Sunday mornings to drive to Trinity. I see the sunrise over Hayward…I know it doesn’t sound very glamorous, but there is no traffic; it feels like anything is possible. Making a small change in our habits is one way of saying, “I’m open to new things, God.”
As human beings, we often wish to freeze life the way we think it ought to be. I know I do. I resist letting go and letting God into my life. But how exciting it is when I do take the risk of saying, “thy will be done.” What would happen if we let the Holy Spirit into our lives a bit more this Lent? What if we said, “Your will be done, God” more often?
Here are a couple of little suggestions for Lenten practices. They’re basic, everyday kind of things. Throughout the day pay attention to your thoughts. When life starts to get you down or you experience frustration or anxiety, notice it. Then lift whatever it is to God. Just a simple, “You take it, God,” will do.
Take time daily for prayer. Be quiet, and talk to Jesus like a friend. Then listen and pay attention throughout the day. There will be dialogue in unexpected ways.
Challenge yourself to read one of the Gospels from start to finish in a couple of sittings. Each one is only about 50 pages. It’s an amazing experience. You are a different person each time you encounter the Gospel. You will gain a new perspective this Holy Week and Easter when you’ve read the whole sweep of the Gospel message. And that’s what Lent is all about, moving us to a new perspective by the time the Holy Mystery of Easter comes on March 23.
So much of life, even the spiritual life, involves simply showing up. God is everywhere, but there’s a reason we have a church, to draw us together as a community around Christ. As Christians, we are living beings always in conversation with other living beings with a shared purpose. Perhaps a Lenten discipline means being here every Sunday in Lent. Make a commitment to come to a Lenten program. Explore spiritual practices for everyday people with Father Mike. Come on Wednesday nights for the Beatitudes. Come learn about the Millennium Development Goals and how God calls us to share our treasure and minister to the poor. We are so fortunate to have our own, beautiful labyrinth; come walk it on a guided walk or on your own.
At baptism, the priest makes the sign of the cross on your forehead with the blessed oil and says, “you are marked as Christ’s own forever.” Today we anoint with the ashes of the palms, and say, “to ashes you will return.”
The smudge of ashes etches over that original anointing with oil and makes it visible once again for us. It is a promise and a challenge of love. In our gospel today, Jesus says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumer and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” This Lent take that dusty raw material of your life and offer it up to God. Together, we as individuals and as a parish can grow in a Godly direction.
May you have a Holy Lent and be transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
February 03, 2008
Frannie Hall Keischnick - Feb 3, 2008
In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean, hardened by 19 years of hard labor, has stolen precious silver from the bishop who has welcomed him into his home, fed him, and given him a bed. Valjean has been captured and returned by his captors to face the bishop who adds two candlesticks to the recovered bag of silver and says:
Remember this, my brother,
See in this some higher plan
You must use this precious silver
To become an honest man
By the witness of the martyrs
By the Passion and the Blood
God has raised you out of darkness
I have bought your soul for God.
The bishop’s words of forgiveness and hope and challenge change Valjean forever.
Whether they call us to new life or crush us, we are shaped by the voices to which we listen.
That is the message in this morning’s lessons, especially of the Transfiguration- we usually associate the Transfiguration with the sight of a transfigured Jesus-today I want to reflect on the sound of his voice.
You have heard the story often-of how the disciples and Jesus climb the mountaintop to find God in prayer. What they find is Jesus transfigured –his clothes glistening white-no more dust of Galilee only bright white light. And not only is Jesus there, but Moses, the symbol of the law and Elijah the symbol of the prophets are there-past, present and future focused in that moment.
Moses, Elijah, Jesus. All three known for defining moments; transformative moments in their lives. Moments where they are called by the very voice of God.
That day on the mountaintop they all hear the words God spoke at Jesus baptism, "This is my beloved in whom I am well pleased". But it doesn’t end there, and that makes all the difference. Do you remember? Did you hear it? What the voice said next? "LISTEN TO HIM!"
What was he saying? What did they hear over and over again above the din and cry of the voices in their hearts, the voices of the oppressing forces of Rome, the heartless religious leaders. "You are beloved. You who are poor and hunger for justice, you whose hearts are breaking at the suffering you live with, you are blessed for God is with you-God’s kingdom has broken in to this moment and you are blessed."
I live with a committee of voices within me-you may recognize them. They are the ones who say, "you are a failure, you are a bad mother, spouse, friend" (you fill in the blank)-they are the voices placed there by relationships, not necessarily but often abusive ones, by the "isms" of the culture-sexism, racism, ageism…by the messages of institutions- yes even the church. The ones Frederick Buechner calls the "great blaring boring voices of mass culture."
When I hear those voices I try to remember today’s story –
When I am counseling, and someone tells me about their "committee", the inner and outer voices-familiar to us all.
I try to say to them as I say to myself, "Of all the voices in your life, the voices from family, from the culture or from any institution including the church, listen to Jesus and no other.Take your cue from his voice. Hear your calling from his voice. Hear your hope in his voice."
When you are confused, doubting or despairing, when you have been told you are less than or not enough or incapable or unloved, when the church or the nation or the culture tell you to do something, or think something, that will be destructive to yourself or to others, listen instead to the voice of Jesus-the voice of compassion, the voice of mercy, the voice of forgiveness, the voice of justice, the voice of peace, the still, small voice of God.
Jesus spoke through words –mostly stories, through community’s healing touch, through fellowship at a table to which all are invited, all are welcomed. That is why we gather in community. That is why we come together in fellowship around the Holy Table - to taste the Kingdom of God, where all are loved-equally and unconditionally.
But let us not kid ourselves. It’s not always easy to discern the voice of Jesus. That's another reason to gather together, to listen together - to name the false voices - To hold one another accountable to Jesus' call - to be instruments for the in-breaking of God’s Kingdom.
Jesus is in the news these days. But these days Jesus is associated with a judgmental, condemning God. We hear those voices within and we think they are God’s voice. They are not! You are not a fake, you are not a failure, you are not unworthy, you are loved - you are loved. Which brings me to a story about my son Jordan and Josetta Walsh, dear Josetta who with Kris Goodrich founded the Child and Family Institute many years ago.
I was in my office at church and Jordie was at Meadow Time at the Institute. I had a feeling I should check in - you know the way parents have those feelings. I went over and found Josetta Walsh sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around my toddler son who was having a huge tantrum. Over and over she was saying, in her Josetta voice, "you are loved, Jordie you are loved." Even when he relaxed and became still and peaceful in her arms, she repeated, "you are loved you are loved". The voice of Jesus.
Jesus, these days, has been hijacked by the radical Right who tell you how to have a personal relationship with Jesus. Well I am here to tell you I do have a personal relationship with Jesus-in fact, many of you have heard me say, I have a huge crush on Jesus, but like Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ Superstar, sometimes "I just don’t know how to love him."
But a personal relationship is different from a privatized one. Jim Wallis, Ed Bacon, Richard Rohr, all progressive religious leaders, all talk about the fundamental difference - A privatized relationship never gets translated into the communal, nor to any concern for the common good. There is no sense that the beloved community is universal, there is no call to exercise responsibility for the common good. There is no emphasis on true test of what it means to be a Christian - when you love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and strength and your neighbor as yourself. And "neighbor" is always understood by Jesus to mean anyone in need.
What does this mean for us? Today... as we live our lives in today’s world, our's may be the only voice of Jesus someone hears this week. Like the Bishop who spoke those words of forgiveness and challenge and changed Valjean forever, God calls us to be that voice to others. Who is in our life who needs to hear that voice? Who will God bring to us this week, needing to hear those words of unconditional love, speaking the deepest truth, that we are all worthy, all children of God, all beloved? Who needs to hear, through word and deed, that God has raised you out of darkness - you are God’s own - God’s beloved!
Does this sound like a challenge? Oh yes, but the same voice that kept those disciples going down from the mountaintop, to Calvary and beyond, that same voice speaks to us from the deepest places of our souls, where no din of blaring, banal, messages from outside can penetrate. Remember his words, spoken on another mountain in the beginning of his ministry, "blessed are you," he said. "Joyful are you." He wasn’t talking about some far-off day. He was talking about that moment. Although you may be poor, you already stand in the Kingdom with God. You have already felt the touch of the one who says "be not afraid." Let us listen to him!
AMEN
