I firmly believe that I was destined to become a theologian at a very early age because of the church of my childhood. The place were the faith embraced me was full of warm, wonderful people all of whom, if they had an ounce of energy in them, were willing to devote it to the cause. A retired coat-hanger salesman banged out gospel hymns by ear on the piano, while a postal worker whose children were so past Sunday School age that they were teachers, led the singing. And it was all headed up by an unmarried woman (a spinster, in the PC-incorrect parlance of those days) name Martha a middle school teacher, who like here biblical namesake was a workhorse even though she weighed little more than a Clydesdale’s hoof.
The most obvious problem with the place was its name. Most of you grew up in churches with understandable names. Messiah, Bethesda, Ebenezer, Saint John, Saint Mark, Saint Mark or Saint Luke – clearly names right out of the bible. Or, place names like Park View that told you in what neighborhood the church was located. Or, the numbering system of the Presbyterians and Methodists -- First, Fourth – and the like. And then there were the faithful Swedes who gathered at Menard and Dakin at the turn of the last century and named their church Nebo. From that day until the church closed it doors generation upon generation had to answer the question, “What’s a Nebo?” You had to have an instant recall of biblically obscure places to come up with the answer, “It was the mountain on which Moses died.”
(I am forever grateful that the founders of the church did not name it Mount Nebo. That would have been the ultimate oxymoron because Portage Park, like this area, is as flat as the plains of Moab.)
Or, maybe the church was aptly named because we can never really get to the promised land in this life – we can only get an occasion glimpse of it. The rest of our time it may feel like we are wandering around in the wilderness.
The Children of Israel, we are told, wandered in the wilderness for forty years. Listen to me now because I am about to tell you something stunning. While I don’t know just what the boundaries of Egypt and the Promised land were then I do know that the distance between downtown Cairo, Egypt and downtown Jerusalem is 264 miles. That is the distance between Detroit and Chicago.
History tells us that the Mormon wagon trains headed westward averaged 11¼ miles per day so simple math would tell us that the trip from Egypt to the promised land should have taken no more than 23½ days. Less than a month! Instead it took them forty years! What was once just an accepted fact now becomes a puzzle: What took them so long?
Scripture tells us that they “wandered” in the wilderness. And I’m telling you that they wandered because they spent most of their time fighting. Pick any part of the wilderness journey at random and you will find the people complaining and bickering and fighting. Not three days into their journey they were complaining about their meager provisions and longing for Egypt so God gives them manna and before long they complain about that so God sends them quail, a little something to go with the manna. Before long they complain about that. Moses goes up to the mountain for the ten commandments and they build an altar to Baal which gets God so angry with the people that Moses has to fight with God for their continued existence. And the point to us is simply: If you want to spend all your time fighting it’s going to take you a whole lot longer to get where you want to go than it would any other way.
Suddenly the view from Mount Nebo is clearer. You might even be able to see yourself their on the plains of Moab. If your inclination is to fight rather than move forward you can forget about making any progress. You’re just going to wander in the wilderness until the day God calls you home or wherever it is God calls you to. If there is one word in the clouds that you can see from your view from Mount Nebo and the word is – focus.
Recently I saw the Book of Mormon on Broadway. It’s coming to Chicago next year and, let me warn you right now, it is not for those who are easily offended. But with that disclaimer out of the way it is story of the triumph of faith.
Elder Kevin Price is a gooder than gold young Mormon whose greatest desire for his missionary trip is to be sent to Orlando, Florida. He butters up everybody for this plum assignment but instead is sent to Uganda where the outpost has not had a single convert in years. Nothing works and even after Price arrives with his many skills and his sizable ego there is still nothing. After witnessing the brutality of a local war Lord he begins to lose faith in his religion and desides that he is going to ask be reassigned to Orlando.
Remember this is a musical and these are Mormons and I’m not going to take forty years to make my point. Price is in his own personal wilderness. He is lost, he is complaining, and he is longing for home. But instead of abandoning his church Elder Price decides to reaffirm everything his church believes as he sings, “I am a Mormon and I believe.” It’s a powerful number that even while reciting their somewhat strange history and doctrines also reminds Price and his audience that “God has a plan for all of us” and that “God always has your back.” In the middle of song he has gained enough courage to march himself into the camp of the war lord, grab the guy by the hand, and by the conclusion , has the war lord sort of swaying along too. Sort of.
Sometimes we wander but sometimes faith can cause us to do brave things.
Thus the envelope I gave you this morning. Each one has five magnets in them. One of those magnets you can place on your own refrigerator door but the rest you are to share with friends. Yes, I am asking you to do your own personal missionary journey and share your faith. I’m not shipping you off to Uganda and there is no trip to Orlando involved. All I am asking you to do is give four magnets away to people who you think might benefit from an exposure to Christianity. And here is what makes the part so much easier than a trip to Africa – the magnets say “St’s” or “Park View in Your PJ’s.” All you have to tell people is “Our pastor [modestly spoken] had this brilliant idea an put our church on the web. You can watch at home late at night, early in the morning, whenever you want dressed however you want. And if it interests you, come join us.”
I read an article recently about how the Roman Catholic Church in Southern India concerned, like their American counterparts, about dwindling numbers are encouraging their members to have more children. Believe me when I tell you, this method is infinitely cheaper!
God is not calling you to lead people into the promised land. God didn’t ask that of Moses and he doesn’t ask that of you. All he is asking you to do is give them a glimpse of what it is like. As Elder Price found out in the play, you can’t bring people to faith by just winning words and promises. As Moses found out you can’t drag people kicking and screaming into the promised land. But you can invite them to come up to the top of the mountain and take a look at the life God offers them, discover the difference God can make, and experience the love of a community of faith that is firmly rooted in Jesus Christ.
Share your magnets! Tell others that you’re a Christian and that you believe! Let them experience what you’ve experienced – paraphrasing Elder Price, “Dang it, the view from the top of Mount Nebo is pretty good.” Amen.
16 October 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
"Whose Dime Is It Anyway?" --Saint Matthew 22:15-22
I always hated it when Pastors returned from their vacation and then told stories about what happened to them in their sermons but here I go this Sunday not only being the chief sinner but sinning boldly.
This week I was in New York with a friend to see some Broadway shows that when they arrive in Chicago will almost certainly not have the same casts:“How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying” with Daniel Radcliffe and John Larrocette and “The Book of Mormon.” More about that play in another sermon. Sorry.
Also going on in New York while we were there was something called the “Occupy Wall Street” demonstrations. As someone who came of age during the sixties and grew up watching sit-ins and demonstrations that closed down large portions of cities and universities for days I was looking forward to seeing a major news making event first hand. I was disappointed.
First, because if the demonstrators were going to try and take back Wall Street they missed their target by at least a-half-a-mile. That is where my friend Les and I originally looked. We went to Wall Street but there we found business as usual. However, walking over to Trinity Church to attend the Noon Eucharist (And yes, I do practice what I preach and attend church when I am on vacation even when it is a Wednesday!) we walked past this park full of people. Liberty Park is small, probably no bigger than Independence Park and from across the street we couldn’t tell what was going on but upon closer examination we discovered that we had stumbled upon the rally of rally’s and found it to be a dud.
After church, as we walked through the park trying to find out just what it was the demonstrators wanted we were less jostled than we were just walking down the average New York sidewalk – where walking is considered to be a full contact sport – and it seemed that they didn’t know what they wanted. Many of their ideas were great: “End greed.” Sounds good to me except, of course when I want more than I have. “End Government Waste!” A conservative could hold that sign. “Wipe out Hunger!” Couldn’t agree more. “Cure HIV/AIDS! Malaria! Parkinson’s! Cancer!” All great signs. All worthy causes. And I am sure that the people holding the signs and the people immediately around them were deeply committed while others in the park were content to use those upside-down paint buckets for drums, like they do outside of the ball park, and listen to a pretty good band, but there were no speeches, no outrage, no “to the barricades.” What the rally was really about was money. Who gets it? Who has it? And what are they doing with it? In that sense the demonstration would have been far more powerful if so many people were not taking pictures of each other with the i-Phones and listening to music on their i-pods.
Money has a tendency to get people to fighting. In families, in churches, in communities, the distribution of funds can cause a major disturbance. It also can get people who really are on the same side to fighting among each other.
The religious leaders try to entrap Jesus using a Roman coin. This is irony in the first degree because if there was one thing that Jesus and the religious leaders could have agreed upon was how the Roman government was the oppressor. Sure it built roads, kept the peace, and made sure things were nice and quiet but it did so with a very heavy hand. It bled you dry in taxes and made sure every thing was peaceful by severely punishing anybody who stepped out of line. While a Roman Soldier would keep you safe from a predator there was nothing or no one who could keep you safe if you fell prey to a Roman Soldier. Jesus would soon find that out more than any of those who were trying to trick him.
What you have to remember most when you read of this encounter is that nobody in this story enjoyed the protection of the First Amendment that we cherish so dearly. Freedom of speech was not seen as a right. So, the question is designed to get Jesus in trouble with the government. If he says taxes are not lawful and word gets back to the authorities he could be charged with sedition.
But Jesus is not fooled. He looks at the coin and inquires about the image. “Whose is it?” he asks. “Caesar’s” they reply. And then he gives them the best advice they ever received: "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's."
We stand and smile at the wisdom of Jesus and how he put down his challengers but what does this say to us? Jesus is not passing out free tax advice. He is not even trying to teach us how to stay out of hot water with the law. He is saying something to the Wall Street Broker and the protestors banging on their drum in the park. He is talking to the “Tea Party” member and the most liberal member of congress. He is talking to every one of us.
And the key to understanding what he is saying lies in the face and the inscription on that coin. Marcus Borg tells us that the image was “of course, an image of Caesar (presumably of Tiberius, the current Caesar). Moreover, its inscription heralded Tiberius as "son of the divine Augustus" (that is, son of a divine being).” The guy on the coin thought he was god. He was not and anybody who put their faith in him or his money was doomed. Because neither the emperor nor the money he coined or in our case the government prints, is god.
What Jesus goes on to remind us is that everything belongs to God. That coin, that emperor, the state, the religious leaders, all of it, all of us, belong to God. If we rendered to God the things that are God’s it would be everything that we have and are.
What if the largest hedge fund manager in the world looked at his computer screen and said, “All this doesn’t belong to me or even the investors, it belongs to God?” What if the most powerful people in government stopped for one second and said, “all this doesn’t belong to me – or even the American people we so confidently claim to speak for – it belongs to God?” What if you and I every time we summoned up our Quicken® on our computer or for those of you who like to do things the old fashioned way, opened up our checkbooks said, “all this” or “this little bit belongs to God.” Somehow I think this little change would have more impact on life than the occupation of a small city park in the middle of New York.
Later that same day I looked up at a ticker on one of the numerous billboards in Times Square and read that Apple® founder Steve Jobs had died. It was not unexpected. He had pancreatic cancer, the most virulent form imaginable, and had survived with it for longer than most. Steve Jobs was rich, incredibly rich, but he had made a lot of other people rich too. You probably own some Apple® stock in your retirement accounts, too and they are more secure because of it.
In 2005, long after his diagnoses, Jobs addressed the Stanford graduating class and said:
Something wonderful, something meaningful, something important can only be done if we remember that we, and all things belong to God. Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and give all that you have, all that you are, all that you’ve got, all that you will ever have to God and at the end of your day, at the end of your life, you’ll have done something wonderful. Just like Jesus promised. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
9 October 2011
This week I was in New York with a friend to see some Broadway shows that when they arrive in Chicago will almost certainly not have the same casts:“How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying” with Daniel Radcliffe and John Larrocette and “The Book of Mormon.” More about that play in another sermon. Sorry.
Also going on in New York while we were there was something called the “Occupy Wall Street” demonstrations. As someone who came of age during the sixties and grew up watching sit-ins and demonstrations that closed down large portions of cities and universities for days I was looking forward to seeing a major news making event first hand. I was disappointed.
First, because if the demonstrators were going to try and take back Wall Street they missed their target by at least a-half-a-mile. That is where my friend Les and I originally looked. We went to Wall Street but there we found business as usual. However, walking over to Trinity Church to attend the Noon Eucharist (And yes, I do practice what I preach and attend church when I am on vacation even when it is a Wednesday!) we walked past this park full of people. Liberty Park is small, probably no bigger than Independence Park and from across the street we couldn’t tell what was going on but upon closer examination we discovered that we had stumbled upon the rally of rally’s and found it to be a dud.
After church, as we walked through the park trying to find out just what it was the demonstrators wanted we were less jostled than we were just walking down the average New York sidewalk – where walking is considered to be a full contact sport – and it seemed that they didn’t know what they wanted. Many of their ideas were great: “End greed.” Sounds good to me except, of course when I want more than I have. “End Government Waste!” A conservative could hold that sign. “Wipe out Hunger!” Couldn’t agree more. “Cure HIV/AIDS! Malaria! Parkinson’s! Cancer!” All great signs. All worthy causes. And I am sure that the people holding the signs and the people immediately around them were deeply committed while others in the park were content to use those upside-down paint buckets for drums, like they do outside of the ball park, and listen to a pretty good band, but there were no speeches, no outrage, no “to the barricades.” What the rally was really about was money. Who gets it? Who has it? And what are they doing with it? In that sense the demonstration would have been far more powerful if so many people were not taking pictures of each other with the i-Phones and listening to music on their i-pods.
Money has a tendency to get people to fighting. In families, in churches, in communities, the distribution of funds can cause a major disturbance. It also can get people who really are on the same side to fighting among each other.
The religious leaders try to entrap Jesus using a Roman coin. This is irony in the first degree because if there was one thing that Jesus and the religious leaders could have agreed upon was how the Roman government was the oppressor. Sure it built roads, kept the peace, and made sure things were nice and quiet but it did so with a very heavy hand. It bled you dry in taxes and made sure every thing was peaceful by severely punishing anybody who stepped out of line. While a Roman Soldier would keep you safe from a predator there was nothing or no one who could keep you safe if you fell prey to a Roman Soldier. Jesus would soon find that out more than any of those who were trying to trick him.
What you have to remember most when you read of this encounter is that nobody in this story enjoyed the protection of the First Amendment that we cherish so dearly. Freedom of speech was not seen as a right. So, the question is designed to get Jesus in trouble with the government. If he says taxes are not lawful and word gets back to the authorities he could be charged with sedition.
But Jesus is not fooled. He looks at the coin and inquires about the image. “Whose is it?” he asks. “Caesar’s” they reply. And then he gives them the best advice they ever received: "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's."
We stand and smile at the wisdom of Jesus and how he put down his challengers but what does this say to us? Jesus is not passing out free tax advice. He is not even trying to teach us how to stay out of hot water with the law. He is saying something to the Wall Street Broker and the protestors banging on their drum in the park. He is talking to the “Tea Party” member and the most liberal member of congress. He is talking to every one of us.
And the key to understanding what he is saying lies in the face and the inscription on that coin. Marcus Borg tells us that the image was “of course, an image of Caesar (presumably of Tiberius, the current Caesar). Moreover, its inscription heralded Tiberius as "son of the divine Augustus" (that is, son of a divine being).” The guy on the coin thought he was god. He was not and anybody who put their faith in him or his money was doomed. Because neither the emperor nor the money he coined or in our case the government prints, is god.
What Jesus goes on to remind us is that everything belongs to God. That coin, that emperor, the state, the religious leaders, all of it, all of us, belong to God. If we rendered to God the things that are God’s it would be everything that we have and are.
What if the largest hedge fund manager in the world looked at his computer screen and said, “All this doesn’t belong to me or even the investors, it belongs to God?” What if the most powerful people in government stopped for one second and said, “all this doesn’t belong to me – or even the American people we so confidently claim to speak for – it belongs to God?” What if you and I every time we summoned up our Quicken® on our computer or for those of you who like to do things the old fashioned way, opened up our checkbooks said, “all this” or “this little bit belongs to God.” Somehow I think this little change would have more impact on life than the occupation of a small city park in the middle of New York.
Later that same day I looked up at a ticker on one of the numerous billboards in Times Square and read that Apple® founder Steve Jobs had died. It was not unexpected. He had pancreatic cancer, the most virulent form imaginable, and had survived with it for longer than most. Steve Jobs was rich, incredibly rich, but he had made a lot of other people rich too. You probably own some Apple® stock in your retirement accounts, too and they are more secure because of it.
In 2005, long after his diagnoses, Jobs addressed the Stanford graduating class and said:
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose.
Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn't matter to me... Going to bed at night saying we've done something wonderful... that's what matters to me.
Something wonderful, something meaningful, something important can only be done if we remember that we, and all things belong to God. Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and give all that you have, all that you are, all that you’ve got, all that you will ever have to God and at the end of your day, at the end of your life, you’ll have done something wonderful. Just like Jesus promised. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
9 October 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
"Does Scripture Really Say..." Exodus 32:1-14 and Saint Matthew 22:1-14
Some stories are almost too good to be true. When I tell one myself I always borrow the line from Dave Berry: “I’m not making this up.” Some stuff you can’t make up. So you have to believe the story J.C. Austin, Associate Pastor of Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York, told about a visitor who attended worship pretty regularly but always showed up at events where free food was involved.
(The man was the living, breathing, proof of my axiom: “If you feed them they will come.” And you know what I mean. There are some people who only attend church events when there is food is being served otherwise they are nowhere to be seen.)
Austin’s guy at Madison Avenue showed every time there was a church supper and ate like there was no tomorrow. Some of the members worried that the guy was underemployed and couldn’t afford a good meal on his own but, with some checking, found that he had a job, his own apartment, and clearly wasn’t someone having trouble meeting his basic needs. He just liked to chow down.
And for a hot minute Austin thought they had reached the guy because he showed up for Inquirers Classes where there was, naturally, a free lunch. When they got to the end of the course Austin’s dreams for the faith of the man were dashed. Here is the magic moment in J.C.’s own words:
When we got to the end of the course, I explained the five responsibilities of membership as defined by MAPC's Session: centering your faith in regular worship attendance, deepening it through education, putting it into action through one form of service, making it tangible through a financial pledge that is generous according to your resources, and sharing it by inviting two others to MAPC. I asked if there were any questions. Putting down the chicken salad wrap he was working on, he wiped his mouth and raised his hand. "What's the point?" he asked. I said I wasn't sure what he meant. "I mean, what do you get out of it?" he continued. "You don't kick people out of stuff because they're not members, do you?" Of course not, I said. "Then what difference does it make? Why would anyone bother to join?" he asked. I responded that joining the church wasn't about things that you had to do for the church in order to reap the benefits; membership itself is the benefit, because if you follow those practices you will be led into a deeper and richer relationship with God as you follow Jesus Christ, and you will have the whole church to both give you support and give you opportunities to support others. He snorted: "Well, I can't see any reason why anyone would do that, and I'm not going to."
One would have thought that would have been that but no...
Here's the kicker: six weeks later he showed up at the next Inquirers Seminar! I greeted him and told him that he didn't need to come through the course again, that if he had changed his mind about membership, he could simply proceed with joining the church. "Oh, I haven't changed my mind," he said, smiling. Puzzled, I asked if there was something about theology or history he wanted to dig into more deeply the second time around. "No," he said; "I'm just here to listen and eat lunch." At that, I took him aside [and] simply said, "Any time you want to inquire about something related to faith or membership, I'll be happy to meet with you personally. And if you're facing any kind of personal trouble, I'll be glad to talk about it and see if there's any way we can help. But you can't take this class again just to eat lunch." He glowered at me. "And I thought this was a church," he growled, and stormed off. (J.C. Austin, "Come As You Are...But You Can't Stay That Way." Sermon Preached at The Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church of New York, 12 October 2008)
It should come as no surprise to you that as far as God is concerned a lot of people are “on the take.” They want God to provide for them and care for them but they absolutely do not want to have anything to do with God when God asks something of them. This is not new, in fact it goes back to the beginning of Scripture and continues through-out whole of the book. The two stories before us this day make that point crystal clear.
Placing the Exodus story in it’s proper context is important. This is Moses second visit to Mount Sinai and on his first he had returned with the Ten Commandments. So the Children of Israel already know about the “you shall have no other God’s” part and they know that what they are doing is wrong. But Moses is taking a long time up there and they are getting antsy so they talk his brother Aaron in to giving them something tangible to worship. For some reason Aaron does, and when he is done melting down all their stuff and making it into a tacky rendition of a calf he actually proclaims it not only to be a god but says: “‘Tomorrow shall be a festival to the LORD.’” They rose early the next day, and offered burnt offerings and brought sacrifices of well- being; and the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to revel.” Aaron calls the statue LORD, Elohim, in the Hebrew one of the cherished names for the LORD, God Almighty and then they had a buffet supper.
The Hebrews were not just trying to control God, they were trying to replace God with one who was more manageable, delivering religious benefits whenever they wanted them but without the pesky problem of being a living God who requires something of them. The real Lord, God Almighty will hear none of this and finally grows tired of the people’s rebellious nature deciding to reduce them to rubble.
It’s today’s Gospel writ large. Those invited to the great feast of the King snubbed him. It’s not that they were unwilling to attend they just plain didn’t want to attend. One goes to his field another to his business, these are personal, trivial concerns that they think are more important than the king’s invitation to this celebration for his son. To put it directly, they did not care about what God had to offer.
But this King, like God, is not wasteful. If some people don’t want what God has to offer there are others that do. And so the King sends his servants out and issues a general invitation to anybody to come to the feast. There is only one condition, and it seems like a simple one compared to sitting through two new members classes to get a chicken wrap sandwich. You had to go home, wash up a bit and change into your best wedding garment.
Sometimes we have had to do that too. You get an invitation that reads “Black Tie and Evening Wear” and no matter how you feel about it you rent or dust-off your tux if you are a guy and, if you are a woman, find, borrow or buy a nice dress so you can go. You do it because to do anything less is to dishonor the occasion. To show up in torn jeans, a dirty T-shirt and gym shoes would show not only contempt not just for the occasion but for the people who invited you.
The guy who gets the gate in Jesus’ parable is probably the easiest to understand in all of scriptures. He’s like the guy chowing down at the new members class but wanting nothing to do with the responsibilities of membership. He’s a rebellious teenager who has reached middle age. We understand his getting the boot. He is the personification of the children of Israel with whom God is so angry with that God could boot them into oblivion.
Yet, it was Moses who interceded with God on behalf of a people who had driven him crazy too. He says, in effect, “You can’t kill them. It would only prove the Egyptian’s point that they were so worthless that even the God they worshiped could find no good in them and so wiped them out. You can’t do this. Remember Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Remember how they did listen to you when you lead them out of slavery. One more chance. Come on. One more chance.”
And Scripture says plainly: “And the Lord changed his mind.”
This sermon would have been a whole lot more fun to preach if I could have let the people who come to church just to eat, or follow God just when they want to, or show their disrespect for God in countless different ways more dreadful than the dinner guest’s apparel, have it. But they are not here. They are in their torn pajamas blasting through a fast food drive-thru getting breakfast only to go home and do exactly what they want to do on Sunday morning, just like they do on any other.
But you are here and I think I know you well enough to know why. You got all dolled up and dropped by this morning because you know that God changed God’s mind about you. You went through your rebellious stage and found it wanting. You built your gold calves and found that what they offered was never enough. You turned your back on God more than once in your life and discovered that while you may have given God more than enough reason to drop you in the nearest dumpster, God never turned God’s back on you. That is why you’re here. That is why I’m here. Because God has always been faithful to us. You know it and I know it.
So, let’s celebrate God’s faithfulness, honor God’s invitation, and come to the feast. This is not just any old church pot-luck supper it is the supper of our Lord. It is a feast prepared for us by no less than Jesus Christ, he’s the one who has issued the invitation, and this is one thing about which he will not change his mind. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
2 October 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
"Remember Rest" - Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9 & 12-20 and Saint Matthew 21:33-46
Probably few of you remember the date August 28, 2011 but something happened out in a far western suburb where Billy Graham no less went to college that spoke volumes about people’s priorities.
ESPN2 was going to begin their coverage of high school football for their fall programming line-up. There would be a complete slate of games on Saturday but at 11 o’clock on Sunday morning Wheaton Warrenville South High School was scheduled by the network to kick off its season against Glenbard West. What surprised me most was the non-reaction of almost everybody involved. First, while I thought I remembered the event, I had to hunt all over the internet to find an article to make sure that this really happened and it was not something I dreamed up. I finally found one on The Daily Herald site where I was surprised at how little reaction everyone gave to the event.
For a minute you’re going to wonder whether I am not a cross between at 2011 “Tea Party” conservative and a ‘60's “take to the streets in protest” radical but here’s an idea for all those Christian parents and their “student athletes (some of whom just may be stars!) – don’t play, don’t go, and most of all, don’t be a booster of the program with your cash. Keep your money firmly planted in your pocket and you’ll see how fast those unrelenting coaches relent.
It’s a almost quaint idea, I know, but other’s have bravely stood by their convictions. I wonder what the parents and their children would think if someone found an old copy of the movie Chariots of Fire.
Do you remember it? It was based on the true story of Eric Liddell, a Cambridge University student, born in China of Scottish missionary parents, who sees his running as a way of glorifying God before returning to China to work as a missionary. He tells his sister “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.”
However, while boarding the boat to Paris for the Olympics, Liddell learns that the heat for his 100 meter race will be on a Sunday. He refuses to run – despite strong pressure from the Prince of Wales and the British Olympic committee – because his Christian convictions prevent him from running on the Sabbath. He runs instead in the 400 meter on Saturday and wins but I wonder how puzzled people would look at such a stand today. “Just run!” people told him them and would tell him now.
Or, Sandy Koufax, a devout Jew and arguably one of the greatest pitchers the game of baseball has ever known, who decided that he could not pitch in game one of the 1965 World Series because it fell on Yom Kippur. In spite of enormous pressure from fans and the media Koufax was true to his convictions and did not pitch. “Just pitch.” people told him then and would tell him now in even more strident voices now.
Since it makes no difference to the team it doesn’t get much notice but White Sox broadcaster Steve Stone, also does not work the games, no matter how important they might be, when they fall on a Jewish high holiday.
“So what?” You might and probably are saying to yourself. But in front of us today are something called the Ten Commandments and if you think to yourself this is about the Sabbath one, you’re only half right. It is also about the first one. To put this directly if you choose football over church, football is your god. If you choose running over church, running is your god. If you choose baseball over church, baseball is your god. If you choose anything over church, it is your god. I wish I could sweeten this up a bit but I can’t because, and listen to me very carefully here, the Ten Commandments, are a gift, not a burden. Not only do they give us great guidelines for staying out of trouble and in some cases out of the clink they invite us to take some time out to consider things that are really important.
But, observes Dr. Michael Lindvall of the Brick Presbyterian Church in New York:
Except, it seems, by unrelenting coaches who can hold a hold an entire community’s faith life hostage to their wills.
When that happens we become like the tenants Jesus told us about in today’s parable who thought that the vineyard was theirs and nobody was going to tell them what to do with it. God comes and to put it quite directly, gets not just rejected but killed. It happens whenever God get’s put on a shelf somewhere next to other stuff to be taken down when you need a little help from the Almighty and put back when you don’t.
But the good news is God keeps coming. God never gives up. Shunted aside, pushed around, kicked under the carpet, and put in a closet, God keeps coming, until it becomes evident that this stone which keeps getting rejected needs to be the chief cornerstone of your life. What is amazing to me is that God still keeps coming, keeps trying, keeps working at saving you and me, even while we are busy engaging ourselves in other things.
And this is true now more than ever. You can take time out and rest in the Lord in more ways than I can mention.
No longer is the 11 o’clock hour on Sunday morning our high holy moment. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters are way ahead of us on this. There are Saturday evening services in most parishes. And, on any given Sunday you can worship somewhere in Chicago from 7:30 A.M. until 10:00 P.M. Yes, there is a church in my neighborhood that has a 9 P.M. mass – it’s in Polish but...
And, you can even sit down any hour of any day and quiet yourself, relax, and watch a sermon in your pajamas from this place on our website or, and this is most amazing, some of the great churches with some of the greatest preachers, in the country. But you have to do it. You have to say Christ is important enough to you to take some time out of your week to make a place for him.
You have to put what you are doing down, rest, and somehow, someway, draw close to him. What you’ll discover, when you do is that like Eric Liddell, Sandy Koufax, and all those who refused to let someone else tamper with their “rest in the Lord” is that Christ will again be your chief cornerstone and what he does, in even those few moments of rest, will be amazing in your eyes and heart. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
25 September 2011
ESPN2 was going to begin their coverage of high school football for their fall programming line-up. There would be a complete slate of games on Saturday but at 11 o’clock on Sunday morning Wheaton Warrenville South High School was scheduled by the network to kick off its season against Glenbard West. What surprised me most was the non-reaction of almost everybody involved. First, while I thought I remembered the event, I had to hunt all over the internet to find an article to make sure that this really happened and it was not something I dreamed up. I finally found one on The Daily Herald site where I was surprised at how little reaction everyone gave to the event.
“This is nothing new for Wheaton churches,” said Rev. Don McLaughlin of St. Michael Catholic Church. “Our only expectation is that they attend Saturday evening or Sunday evening masses at a neighboring parish. There are plenty of opportunities to fulfill their obligations.” McLaughlin said it would be ideal if the leagues did not play on Sunday morning. However, that's unrealistic.
“The churches would prefer to see adjustments to the schedule to allow them to attend church services on Sunday morning,” he said. “But that is highly unlikely with the number of kids and teams that play in the park district leagues.”
[Allison Tirone, high school coordinator at First Presbyterian Church in Wheaton,] talked to other youth leaders at area churches about making a formal push to curtail Sunday sports. But most people told her that effort likely would be wasted.
“It feels strange to me, even in a town like Wheaton where there is a high percentage of active Christians, that nobody has done anything about it,” she said. “We are running into more and more coaches who are not relenting at all.” [Marco Santana, “High school football game clashes with Sunday churchgoers.” The Daily Herald. 26 August 2011.]
For a minute you’re going to wonder whether I am not a cross between at 2011 “Tea Party” conservative and a ‘60's “take to the streets in protest” radical but here’s an idea for all those Christian parents and their “student athletes (some of whom just may be stars!) – don’t play, don’t go, and most of all, don’t be a booster of the program with your cash. Keep your money firmly planted in your pocket and you’ll see how fast those unrelenting coaches relent.
It’s a almost quaint idea, I know, but other’s have bravely stood by their convictions. I wonder what the parents and their children would think if someone found an old copy of the movie Chariots of Fire.
Do you remember it? It was based on the true story of Eric Liddell, a Cambridge University student, born in China of Scottish missionary parents, who sees his running as a way of glorifying God before returning to China to work as a missionary. He tells his sister “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.”
However, while boarding the boat to Paris for the Olympics, Liddell learns that the heat for his 100 meter race will be on a Sunday. He refuses to run – despite strong pressure from the Prince of Wales and the British Olympic committee – because his Christian convictions prevent him from running on the Sabbath. He runs instead in the 400 meter on Saturday and wins but I wonder how puzzled people would look at such a stand today. “Just run!” people told him them and would tell him now.
Or, Sandy Koufax, a devout Jew and arguably one of the greatest pitchers the game of baseball has ever known, who decided that he could not pitch in game one of the 1965 World Series because it fell on Yom Kippur. In spite of enormous pressure from fans and the media Koufax was true to his convictions and did not pitch. “Just pitch.” people told him then and would tell him now in even more strident voices now.
Since it makes no difference to the team it doesn’t get much notice but White Sox broadcaster Steve Stone, also does not work the games, no matter how important they might be, when they fall on a Jewish high holiday.
“So what?” You might and probably are saying to yourself. But in front of us today are something called the Ten Commandments and if you think to yourself this is about the Sabbath one, you’re only half right. It is also about the first one. To put this directly if you choose football over church, football is your god. If you choose running over church, running is your god. If you choose baseball over church, baseball is your god. If you choose anything over church, it is your god. I wish I could sweeten this up a bit but I can’t because, and listen to me very carefully here, the Ten Commandments, are a gift, not a burden. Not only do they give us great guidelines for staying out of trouble and in some cases out of the clink they invite us to take some time out to consider things that are really important.
But, observes Dr. Michael Lindvall of the Brick Presbyterian Church in New York:
A lot of people see any moral regulation, the Ten Commandments included, as being an artificial structure designed to limit their choices and constrict their right to have a good time. Many people have it in their heads that moral rules were made up by repressed religious types to throw a wet blanket on everybody’s good times so that everybody else will be as dour and joyless as they are.
Some of this cultural antipathy to moral rules is just a knee-jerk reaction stimulated by the fact that none of us likes to be told what not to do, especially when we want to do it. [Michael L. Lindvall, “Thank God for Some Rules.” Sermon preached at the Brick Presbyterian Church of New York City. 5 October 2008.]
Except, it seems, by unrelenting coaches who can hold a hold an entire community’s faith life hostage to their wills.
When that happens we become like the tenants Jesus told us about in today’s parable who thought that the vineyard was theirs and nobody was going to tell them what to do with it. God comes and to put it quite directly, gets not just rejected but killed. It happens whenever God get’s put on a shelf somewhere next to other stuff to be taken down when you need a little help from the Almighty and put back when you don’t.
But the good news is God keeps coming. God never gives up. Shunted aside, pushed around, kicked under the carpet, and put in a closet, God keeps coming, until it becomes evident that this stone which keeps getting rejected needs to be the chief cornerstone of your life. What is amazing to me is that God still keeps coming, keeps trying, keeps working at saving you and me, even while we are busy engaging ourselves in other things.
And this is true now more than ever. You can take time out and rest in the Lord in more ways than I can mention.
No longer is the 11 o’clock hour on Sunday morning our high holy moment. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters are way ahead of us on this. There are Saturday evening services in most parishes. And, on any given Sunday you can worship somewhere in Chicago from 7:30 A.M. until 10:00 P.M. Yes, there is a church in my neighborhood that has a 9 P.M. mass – it’s in Polish but...
And, you can even sit down any hour of any day and quiet yourself, relax, and watch a sermon in your pajamas from this place on our website or, and this is most amazing, some of the great churches with some of the greatest preachers, in the country. But you have to do it. You have to say Christ is important enough to you to take some time out of your week to make a place for him.
You have to put what you are doing down, rest, and somehow, someway, draw close to him. What you’ll discover, when you do is that like Eric Liddell, Sandy Koufax, and all those who refused to let someone else tamper with their “rest in the Lord” is that Christ will again be your chief cornerstone and what he does, in even those few moments of rest, will be amazing in your eyes and heart. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
25 September 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
"Turn, Then, and Live" - Saint Matthew 21:23-32
Every one of in this room this morning knows someone for whom “high drama” is a way of life. Let’s hope you are not that person. And, if you are, all I can say to you is, “stop it. You are driving your friends crazy. While you may never have high blood pressure, you are a carrier.”
If you are on the receiving end of one of these relationships, you know what I mean. A outing to the Lyric Opera requires more preparation than an excursion to the Australian outback. A simple drive somewhere carries with it more machinations then could be imagined. “Should we take your car or mine? You’re not going to take that route are you? It’s out of the way! Should I bring a jacket, just a sweater, what do you think? Are we going to be long?” By the time you’ve answered more questions than are asked at a Presidential press conference, you look at you watch and discover you’re running late and the only thing you want to do is yell, “Get in the car!”
What makes these kinds of encounters difficult is that you never seem to know where you stand. You have to process questions that you couldn’t have possibly thought of. You have to deal with matters that, frankly, do not matter.
That is why I have always loved the first son in today’s parable. When his dad asks him if it was his intention to work in the field he says, “No.” Not, “maybe.” Not, “I’m not sure.” He says, ‘No. Not happening. No way.” While the father may have been taken aback at least he knew where he stood. Number One Son is taking the day off. Period. End of story.
Number Two Son is one of those crazy-makers. He says, “Sure dad, I’ll help!” And then he begins to have second thoughts. Maybe there is an invitation from his friends to go look at the fall colors? Maybe his allergies begin to act up? Maybe he was just going to lie down on the couch for a minute before work and that minute turned into a five hour nap. Who knows what happened, all we know is that the kid his dad was counting on, never showed.
We could easily turn Jesus’ parable into a “morality tale” on the importance of keeping your word. Of letting “your ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ be ‘no.’” as Jesus also said. And that is a very important thing. It is what your own personal authority is built on. Can people trust your word? That’s a pretty important thing and it is crucial to maintaining a relationship. If you are like a willow in the wind, changing direction at the slightest breeze, people are going to stop trusting you. They’ll stop asking you. Sometimes that might be a good thing because they won’t ask you to do things you didn’t want to do in the first place, but sometimes you’ll miss out because they won’t ask you to something that turns out to be spectacular. That is not entirely what Jesus parable is about. Put in context it is about something far greater.
The setting of today’s gospel is important. It occurs a couple of days after Palm Sunday. Jesus had not only ridden into the city in a populist spectacle and driven the money changers out of the temple but made the audacious claim that the temple, God’s house, should be a house of prayer for all people. Not just those who could pony up the money for sacrifice or two, God’s house should be open to everybody.
The authorities do what authority figures do best, they ask Jesus, what right he has to say such things because in their eyes he didn’t have any. He hadn’t been to the best theological schools, and instead of teaching the Torah, or we might say, theology, he told stories that were downright earthy. Worse than that he touched sick people and lepers, making himself unclean. He was seen in public with women, some of whom didn’t have the best reputations, and men who weren’t much better. Jesus didn’t have any authority in their eyes because he wasn’t of the right pedigree, running with the right crowds. He had no right, no right what-so-ever, to tell them how they should be running their temple. And you know what? In their eyes, they were right. Jesus was the son who looked like he was saying “no” to God. He had to be because they were the ones who were saying “Yes.” They were the ones keeping God’s laws, obeying God’s commandments, not associating with the wrong people. He couldn’t have any authority from God because, in their eyes, he ever seemed to be acting the way God wanted any of God’s followers to act.
Here is the key to understanding this parable and the key to understanding Jesus. There are those who say yes to God, even yes to Jesus, and when you look at their lives, you just can’t tell. They don’t reach out to others, they don’t help those less fortunate than they are, they are too busy building temples that may take your breath away but that serve only them. No outsider need apply. No outsider dare apply. They are like the second son.
But look at Jesus’ followers. The one who, then and now, were and are really following him. They are the ones who like that first son, took another look at their lives, another look at what they were doing, another look at what they have and said, “If I am going to be any use, I had better get to work.”
I had this revelation Friday night at Park View’s spaghetti dinner. A very nice, very kind, very wonderful woman, who I have known for years was telling me about the newly rebuilt church she belongs to and how when she saw it her breath was just taken away. I felt a little bad. Boy, I thought, is must be great to have a nice new building where everything is pristine and in its place.
But then you started showing up for the dinner. You and your children. Some of you, let me tell you quite frankly, would not be welcomed in that Taj Mahal of churches. Your skin is the wrong color, yes, still segregation still being practiced in church if not in law, in attitude. Your income may not match that of members who can afford BMW’s and the big homes. Our sexual orientation is not acceptable to this “straight” and narrow crowd. And the pun there is intended. And your kids certainly would not be allowed to run rampant in their newly appointed fellowship hall.
But remember this, the Taj Mahal is a tomb. It’s a mausoleum. You don’t have to go to India to see one. Check out Queen of Heaven in Hillside or All Saints’ mausoleums in Des Plaines. They are stunning! Marble floors, marble walls, lots of flowers, beautiful furniture and, most of all, quiet. Quiet, because all of the people in there are dead.
Now think back to Friday night. Our fellowship hall is not going to win any awards from the people at Architectural Digest. In fact, this church and school barely holds itself together physically with spit, chewing gum, and bailing wire. And I don’t even want to think about our finances! But last Friday night, and every day during the week, this place was and is alive. Friday the place was packed with adults having a great time and children running this way and that having the time of their lives.
I thought to myself. If I had a choice between serving a church that was breathtaking but whose goal was to keep everything “white, bright, and polite” or a church that was, to put it mildly, well-worn but alive with a rainbow of people, I’d take the rainbow. Given the choice between tomb or tumult, I’ll take the tumult because it is there that Christ lives.
Christ’s authority came not because he was above the fray but in the fray. His authority came because he was willing to enter into life and live it fully. He authority came in welcoming those whom others would not. And finally his authority came because he broke open carefully constructed tombs and brought life. If you see the Taj Mahal, to put it directly, Christ ain’t there because it’s a tomb. But where ever you experience life at it’s fullest and most sweet, there Christ is.
He’s with those of you who have been placed at the back of the line with the tax-collectors and the sinners. He’s with all of you who have had the experience of turning to Christ and finding life. He is with all of you who have found in Christ a new heart and a new spirit. He is with all of you who have ever found yourself cast out, welcoming you with a warm embrace. And most importantly, he is with those of you who, at first said, “No” but then thought a little, stewed a little, even fussed and fumed a little, but who then accepted what Christ had to offer.
You are the ones who are doing the will of your heavenly Father. You are the ones who really know the love and life Christ offers and you are the ones who will march proudly with Jesus into the kingdom of God, right there with the rest of us sinners, who have turned to Christ heard him say “yes” to us and really mean it. Amen.
25 September 2011
If you are on the receiving end of one of these relationships, you know what I mean. A outing to the Lyric Opera requires more preparation than an excursion to the Australian outback. A simple drive somewhere carries with it more machinations then could be imagined. “Should we take your car or mine? You’re not going to take that route are you? It’s out of the way! Should I bring a jacket, just a sweater, what do you think? Are we going to be long?” By the time you’ve answered more questions than are asked at a Presidential press conference, you look at you watch and discover you’re running late and the only thing you want to do is yell, “Get in the car!”
What makes these kinds of encounters difficult is that you never seem to know where you stand. You have to process questions that you couldn’t have possibly thought of. You have to deal with matters that, frankly, do not matter.
That is why I have always loved the first son in today’s parable. When his dad asks him if it was his intention to work in the field he says, “No.” Not, “maybe.” Not, “I’m not sure.” He says, ‘No. Not happening. No way.” While the father may have been taken aback at least he knew where he stood. Number One Son is taking the day off. Period. End of story.
Number Two Son is one of those crazy-makers. He says, “Sure dad, I’ll help!” And then he begins to have second thoughts. Maybe there is an invitation from his friends to go look at the fall colors? Maybe his allergies begin to act up? Maybe he was just going to lie down on the couch for a minute before work and that minute turned into a five hour nap. Who knows what happened, all we know is that the kid his dad was counting on, never showed.
We could easily turn Jesus’ parable into a “morality tale” on the importance of keeping your word. Of letting “your ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ be ‘no.’” as Jesus also said. And that is a very important thing. It is what your own personal authority is built on. Can people trust your word? That’s a pretty important thing and it is crucial to maintaining a relationship. If you are like a willow in the wind, changing direction at the slightest breeze, people are going to stop trusting you. They’ll stop asking you. Sometimes that might be a good thing because they won’t ask you to do things you didn’t want to do in the first place, but sometimes you’ll miss out because they won’t ask you to something that turns out to be spectacular. That is not entirely what Jesus parable is about. Put in context it is about something far greater.
The setting of today’s gospel is important. It occurs a couple of days after Palm Sunday. Jesus had not only ridden into the city in a populist spectacle and driven the money changers out of the temple but made the audacious claim that the temple, God’s house, should be a house of prayer for all people. Not just those who could pony up the money for sacrifice or two, God’s house should be open to everybody.
The authorities do what authority figures do best, they ask Jesus, what right he has to say such things because in their eyes he didn’t have any. He hadn’t been to the best theological schools, and instead of teaching the Torah, or we might say, theology, he told stories that were downright earthy. Worse than that he touched sick people and lepers, making himself unclean. He was seen in public with women, some of whom didn’t have the best reputations, and men who weren’t much better. Jesus didn’t have any authority in their eyes because he wasn’t of the right pedigree, running with the right crowds. He had no right, no right what-so-ever, to tell them how they should be running their temple. And you know what? In their eyes, they were right. Jesus was the son who looked like he was saying “no” to God. He had to be because they were the ones who were saying “Yes.” They were the ones keeping God’s laws, obeying God’s commandments, not associating with the wrong people. He couldn’t have any authority from God because, in their eyes, he ever seemed to be acting the way God wanted any of God’s followers to act.
Here is the key to understanding this parable and the key to understanding Jesus. There are those who say yes to God, even yes to Jesus, and when you look at their lives, you just can’t tell. They don’t reach out to others, they don’t help those less fortunate than they are, they are too busy building temples that may take your breath away but that serve only them. No outsider need apply. No outsider dare apply. They are like the second son.
But look at Jesus’ followers. The one who, then and now, were and are really following him. They are the ones who like that first son, took another look at their lives, another look at what they were doing, another look at what they have and said, “If I am going to be any use, I had better get to work.”
I had this revelation Friday night at Park View’s spaghetti dinner. A very nice, very kind, very wonderful woman, who I have known for years was telling me about the newly rebuilt church she belongs to and how when she saw it her breath was just taken away. I felt a little bad. Boy, I thought, is must be great to have a nice new building where everything is pristine and in its place.
But then you started showing up for the dinner. You and your children. Some of you, let me tell you quite frankly, would not be welcomed in that Taj Mahal of churches. Your skin is the wrong color, yes, still segregation still being practiced in church if not in law, in attitude. Your income may not match that of members who can afford BMW’s and the big homes. Our sexual orientation is not acceptable to this “straight” and narrow crowd. And the pun there is intended. And your kids certainly would not be allowed to run rampant in their newly appointed fellowship hall.
But remember this, the Taj Mahal is a tomb. It’s a mausoleum. You don’t have to go to India to see one. Check out Queen of Heaven in Hillside or All Saints’ mausoleums in Des Plaines. They are stunning! Marble floors, marble walls, lots of flowers, beautiful furniture and, most of all, quiet. Quiet, because all of the people in there are dead.
Now think back to Friday night. Our fellowship hall is not going to win any awards from the people at Architectural Digest. In fact, this church and school barely holds itself together physically with spit, chewing gum, and bailing wire. And I don’t even want to think about our finances! But last Friday night, and every day during the week, this place was and is alive. Friday the place was packed with adults having a great time and children running this way and that having the time of their lives.
I thought to myself. If I had a choice between serving a church that was breathtaking but whose goal was to keep everything “white, bright, and polite” or a church that was, to put it mildly, well-worn but alive with a rainbow of people, I’d take the rainbow. Given the choice between tomb or tumult, I’ll take the tumult because it is there that Christ lives.
Christ’s authority came not because he was above the fray but in the fray. His authority came because he was willing to enter into life and live it fully. He authority came in welcoming those whom others would not. And finally his authority came because he broke open carefully constructed tombs and brought life. If you see the Taj Mahal, to put it directly, Christ ain’t there because it’s a tomb. But where ever you experience life at it’s fullest and most sweet, there Christ is.
He’s with those of you who have been placed at the back of the line with the tax-collectors and the sinners. He’s with all of you who have had the experience of turning to Christ and finding life. He is with all of you who have found in Christ a new heart and a new spirit. He is with all of you who have ever found yourself cast out, welcoming you with a warm embrace. And most importantly, he is with those of you who, at first said, “No” but then thought a little, stewed a little, even fussed and fumed a little, but who then accepted what Christ had to offer.
You are the ones who are doing the will of your heavenly Father. You are the ones who really know the love and life Christ offers and you are the ones who will march proudly with Jesus into the kingdom of God, right there with the rest of us sinners, who have turned to Christ heard him say “yes” to us and really mean it. Amen.
25 September 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
"Remembrance and Reconciliation" - Saint Matthew 18:21-35
Today we will begin a week of remembrance for a day nobody over the age of ten will ever forget. A day that dawned with blue skies almost from coast to coast. A perfect day for flying that turned into one of the darkest days in our collective memory as a nation.
There is no use reviewing the events of September 11. The news media will do that for us – re-searing images into our brains that have left a scar on us all. That’s is one of the difficulties of living in an era of instant communication where everybody who has a cell phone is armed with a camera for capturing almost every possible moment from the mundane to the unforgettable. Those who heard about the attacks on Pearl Harbor could only imagine the horror, we saw it live. And we will never forget it.
One year later Father Sakowicz and I planned a service of remembrance at Saint Mary of the Woods. It was extremely well attended but one funeral director friend of mine gave me a little static when he heard about our plans. “I don’t think I’m ready to be reconciled to what happened yet.” He was a fire fighter too and I understood his position completely. I reminded him of the subtle difference between reconciliation and remembrance. We were going to ask people to stop and remember what happened. Both Father Sakowicz and I knew that remembering would be easy but that reconciliation, if it came at all, would be a long way down the road.
Some things take time. And the problem with today’s gospel is that for centuries preachers have been corrupting Jesus’ words and telling us that if someone hurts you, you should forgive them, and you both will be the better for it. After all, isn’t that what Jesus said? Well, yes and no. He told us that we should be forgiving and then told us a parable that has a very unforgiving ending.
Peter gets us started off on the right foot with an answer to his own question that flies in the face of conventional wisdom. Seven times is a lot of forgiveness. It’s a whole lot more than we have been taught to dish out. “An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth.” “Once burned, a lesson learned.” “Never give one person two chances.” “Don’t get mad, get even.” That is pretty much how our society views things so Peter was way ahead of the curve when he came up with the pretty high number of seven. But Jesus ups the anti and says, in perhaps the worse translation in the history of scripture, “No, seventy-seven times.” What Jesus really said was, “No I tell you but rather seventy times seven times.” Actually, since all of us can do this math, we know that this turns out to be 490 times.
The problem with coming up with any kind of number, be it one, seven, seventy-seven, or 490, is that it invites us to still keep score. That is the problem with the forgiven servant he always thinks he can settle the score. Jesus must have drew some laughs with his first outlandish statement. Almost like a joke. A guy owes his boss the equivalent of the national debt and he thinks some way he can score enough bucks to pay it off. But his boss tells him, “Forget it. It’s only money. You, your wife and kids can go on their way.” Cue the laughter.
Then, cue the horror as this same guy goes out and grabs a friend who owes him about “a-buck-and-a-quarter” wrestles him to the ground and when he can’t come up with it in a split second has his debtor thrown into the clink. It was not a pretty sight and I think what Jesus is asking us to do here is contrast the beauty of someone who forgives sins with the absolute ugliness of someone who doesn’t. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing, retribution is not. Forgiveness inspires us to be better people, retribution does not.
I have been reading a lot of stories this week about how those who lost loved ones in the unmerited attacks of 9|11 have coped with their grief. Some have started charities, some have entered into community work, some have started support groups. The scars are still there and they are deep but people press on.
Two person who really pressed on were Phyllis Rodriguez and Aicha el-Wafi. Rodrigu ez’s son, Greg, was killed in the World Trade Center attacks. el-Wafi’s son is Zacarias Moussaoui, convicted of conspiring with the 19 hijackers of plotting the attacks. After a period of time, his mother requested a meeting with the victims, to say how horrified she too was by her son’s actions and to seek forgiveness. Rodriguez said, “The day I met Aicha was the day that changed my life because it changed my direction emotionally. Meeting Aicha gave me strength and took away my anger and bitterness. It brought out the generosity in me and I felt better for it.”
I want us all to be very careful here. Forgiveness does not mean making excuses. Forgiveness does not mean that there are no consequences for behavior that is unbelievably cruel. We didn’t let Moussaoui go free and give him flying lessons. Like the servant who had been so cruel in Jesus’ parable we locked him up and threw away the key. His mother understands that as does Ms. Rodriguez but they are both facing their hurts and dealing with the consequences.
Forgiveness contains the underlying affirmation that one person refuses to be destroyed by the unkindness of another. It says, “I refuse to treat you like you treated me. What is best for you is that you need to face up to what you have done. It may mean that you are held accountable. It may mean you need to change. But in all of that I am a Christian, a member a forgiven community, and so I will pray for the desire to want what is best for you. I am going to give you to God and let God sort things out while I try, as best I can, to get on with my life.”
That is what the steward should have done. He should have accepted the king’s forgiveness and gotten on with his life but he didn’t and so ruined everything. The king didn’t do it to him, the guy who owed him the pittance didn’t do it to him, he did it to himself. His un-forgiveness, like the un-relenting hatred of Moussaoui and his godless gang of thugs acting on behalf of a god no right-minded person would ever follow, got them consigned to a living hell or an eternal hell of their own making.
The human spirit can only handle so much. It can handle as much joy, gratitude, love, forgiveness as you want to put into it. I have never heard anyone say, “That’s it. That is more joy than I can handle. That is more love than I could ever want.” But that same human spirit can fill up quickly with anger, hate and resentment. And when resentment grows and grows it pushes out all the love, joy, and gratitude that once was there until there is nothing but hate and, in the hijackers case, a wanton disregard for innocent human lives.
President Bush remembered how on the day he first visited the rubble that once was the World Trade Center “there was a palpable blood a kind of blood lust. You go get them.” But then he said that “eventually September 11 will be just another day on the calender. It will be like Pearl Harbor day and when that happens the terrorists will know that they can never win because they never understood us. They didn’t understand that we are a compassionate, kind, but courageous people.”
A people who by the power of God’s love and the Holy Spirit can not only carry forth and soldier on but forgive and be free. We’re getting there and with God’s help both sides will make it all the way. All the way to a life of freedom offered in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
4 September 2011
There is no use reviewing the events of September 11. The news media will do that for us – re-searing images into our brains that have left a scar on us all. That’s is one of the difficulties of living in an era of instant communication where everybody who has a cell phone is armed with a camera for capturing almost every possible moment from the mundane to the unforgettable. Those who heard about the attacks on Pearl Harbor could only imagine the horror, we saw it live. And we will never forget it.
One year later Father Sakowicz and I planned a service of remembrance at Saint Mary of the Woods. It was extremely well attended but one funeral director friend of mine gave me a little static when he heard about our plans. “I don’t think I’m ready to be reconciled to what happened yet.” He was a fire fighter too and I understood his position completely. I reminded him of the subtle difference between reconciliation and remembrance. We were going to ask people to stop and remember what happened. Both Father Sakowicz and I knew that remembering would be easy but that reconciliation, if it came at all, would be a long way down the road.
Some things take time. And the problem with today’s gospel is that for centuries preachers have been corrupting Jesus’ words and telling us that if someone hurts you, you should forgive them, and you both will be the better for it. After all, isn’t that what Jesus said? Well, yes and no. He told us that we should be forgiving and then told us a parable that has a very unforgiving ending.
Peter gets us started off on the right foot with an answer to his own question that flies in the face of conventional wisdom. Seven times is a lot of forgiveness. It’s a whole lot more than we have been taught to dish out. “An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth.” “Once burned, a lesson learned.” “Never give one person two chances.” “Don’t get mad, get even.” That is pretty much how our society views things so Peter was way ahead of the curve when he came up with the pretty high number of seven. But Jesus ups the anti and says, in perhaps the worse translation in the history of scripture, “No, seventy-seven times.” What Jesus really said was, “No I tell you but rather seventy times seven times.” Actually, since all of us can do this math, we know that this turns out to be 490 times.
The problem with coming up with any kind of number, be it one, seven, seventy-seven, or 490, is that it invites us to still keep score. That is the problem with the forgiven servant he always thinks he can settle the score. Jesus must have drew some laughs with his first outlandish statement. Almost like a joke. A guy owes his boss the equivalent of the national debt and he thinks some way he can score enough bucks to pay it off. But his boss tells him, “Forget it. It’s only money. You, your wife and kids can go on their way.” Cue the laughter.
Then, cue the horror as this same guy goes out and grabs a friend who owes him about “a-buck-and-a-quarter” wrestles him to the ground and when he can’t come up with it in a split second has his debtor thrown into the clink. It was not a pretty sight and I think what Jesus is asking us to do here is contrast the beauty of someone who forgives sins with the absolute ugliness of someone who doesn’t. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing, retribution is not. Forgiveness inspires us to be better people, retribution does not.
I have been reading a lot of stories this week about how those who lost loved ones in the unmerited attacks of 9|11 have coped with their grief. Some have started charities, some have entered into community work, some have started support groups. The scars are still there and they are deep but people press on.
Two person who really pressed on were Phyllis Rodriguez and Aicha el-Wafi. Rodrigu ez’s son, Greg, was killed in the World Trade Center attacks. el-Wafi’s son is Zacarias Moussaoui, convicted of conspiring with the 19 hijackers of plotting the attacks. After a period of time, his mother requested a meeting with the victims, to say how horrified she too was by her son’s actions and to seek forgiveness. Rodriguez said, “The day I met Aicha was the day that changed my life because it changed my direction emotionally. Meeting Aicha gave me strength and took away my anger and bitterness. It brought out the generosity in me and I felt better for it.”
I want us all to be very careful here. Forgiveness does not mean making excuses. Forgiveness does not mean that there are no consequences for behavior that is unbelievably cruel. We didn’t let Moussaoui go free and give him flying lessons. Like the servant who had been so cruel in Jesus’ parable we locked him up and threw away the key. His mother understands that as does Ms. Rodriguez but they are both facing their hurts and dealing with the consequences.
Forgiveness contains the underlying affirmation that one person refuses to be destroyed by the unkindness of another. It says, “I refuse to treat you like you treated me. What is best for you is that you need to face up to what you have done. It may mean that you are held accountable. It may mean you need to change. But in all of that I am a Christian, a member a forgiven community, and so I will pray for the desire to want what is best for you. I am going to give you to God and let God sort things out while I try, as best I can, to get on with my life.”
That is what the steward should have done. He should have accepted the king’s forgiveness and gotten on with his life but he didn’t and so ruined everything. The king didn’t do it to him, the guy who owed him the pittance didn’t do it to him, he did it to himself. His un-forgiveness, like the un-relenting hatred of Moussaoui and his godless gang of thugs acting on behalf of a god no right-minded person would ever follow, got them consigned to a living hell or an eternal hell of their own making.
The human spirit can only handle so much. It can handle as much joy, gratitude, love, forgiveness as you want to put into it. I have never heard anyone say, “That’s it. That is more joy than I can handle. That is more love than I could ever want.” But that same human spirit can fill up quickly with anger, hate and resentment. And when resentment grows and grows it pushes out all the love, joy, and gratitude that once was there until there is nothing but hate and, in the hijackers case, a wanton disregard for innocent human lives.
President Bush remembered how on the day he first visited the rubble that once was the World Trade Center “there was a palpable blood a kind of blood lust. You go get them.” But then he said that “eventually September 11 will be just another day on the calender. It will be like Pearl Harbor day and when that happens the terrorists will know that they can never win because they never understood us. They didn’t understand that we are a compassionate, kind, but courageous people.”
A people who by the power of God’s love and the Holy Spirit can not only carry forth and soldier on but forgive and be free. We’re getting there and with God’s help both sides will make it all the way. All the way to a life of freedom offered in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
©The Rev’d Dr. David C. Nelson
4 September 2011
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