Month: February 2007

Ash Wednesday, Year C, 2007

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Today we observe one of the most solemn days of the church year:  Ash Wednesday.  On this day we remember our mortality and begin 40 days of Lent, during which we prepare ourselves for Christ’s death and resurrection.

Last week at Children’s worship, Jane Lynch spoke to the kids about how Lent is a time to prepare for Christ’s death and resurrection.  When one little boy got back to his mother, he tugged at her anxiously and said, “They killed Baby Jesus!”  Because this was new information to this almost-three year old, he was able to experience the deep shock and pain of Christ’s death.  Just wait until he hears that Christ comes to life again!  He’s going to be blown away.

As adult believers, it is difficult to keep the sorrow over Christ’s death and the joy over the resurrection fresh.  We have heard the story over and over again, but the meaning of the story begins to recede as time passes.  We go about our days getting more and more caught up in the details:  what to make for dinner, what needs to be crossed off our to-do lists, where the kids need to be when.  We don’t have a lot of time to think about theological issues.

Ash Wednesday pulls the rug out from under us.  As we have ashes imposed on our foreheads, as we hear the words, ‘From dust you came and to dust you shall return,” we remember that no matter how many errands we run, how many meals we cook, how many days we go into the office, all that will stop one day, and we will die. 

Suddenly Christ’s death and resurrection take on a great deal of significance.  For, through this miraculous event, our deaths are no longer meaningless and terrifying.  Because of Christ’s resurrection, we know we have a hope and a future. 

So, now that we have been stopped short from our crazy lives, how can we live the next 40 days in such a way that will ready us to hear the good news of God’s salvation?

Our Gospel passage today, guides us, through telling us what Jesus does not want.  What Jesus does not want is for us to beat our chests in public, shouting “woe is me!” so that everyone knows how fabulously penitent we are this Lent.

Like most of our faith, Lent is about relationship. 

When we sacrifice something we enjoy, we open space in our lives for God to enter.  Each time we reach for that cookie, or the remote, or whatever it is we have decided to sacrifice, we are reminded of God’s presence.  Think of that object of sacrifice as a little post-it-note reminding you to say hello to God, reminding you to meditate on Christ’s suffering and glory.  Sacrificing is difficult, but it turns us toward our maker, the One who gives us strength when we are weak and forgiveness when we are even weaker. 

Lent is not about how much you can punish yourself.  Lent is about finding a way to open yourself to the One who created you and who sacrifices his own identity for you.   Lent is about drawing near to God’s presence.  Sacrifice reveals to us our own weaknesses and the strength of our desires for things that are not essential, maybe even not good for us.  When we are reminded of our own weakness, we turn to God, for help and for mercy.

This last week, Chuck and I have been spending a lot of time with a young couple whose twins were born nearly three months early.  We’ve also spent a lot of time with families planning their matriarchs and patriarch’s funerals.  In both these cases-at the fragile beginning of life and the quiet end-these families were turned to God, seeking comfort, healing, and understanding. 

For these families, sacrifice is not an abstract concept, but a very concrete one.  They know that when their security is taken from them, turning to God can bring meaning and comfort. 

In a similar, but much smaller way, our sacrifices help us to cling to God.  For as our psalmist reminds us today:

As a father cares for his children, *
so does the LORD care for those who fear him.
For he himself knows whereof we are made; *
he remembers that we are but dust.
Our days are like the grass; *
we flourish like a flower of the field;
When the wind goes over it, it is gone, *
and its place shall know it no more.
But the merciful goodness of the LORD endures for ever on those who fear him, *
and his righteousness on children’s children.

God loves us and desires relationship with us.  This Lent we are invited to enter more deeply into that relationship.

Amen

 

 

 

 

 

Epiphany 6, Year C, 2007

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Jesus has been hanging out around Richmond, doing some miracles, recruiting followers and attracting a lot of attention. The religious leaders in town are not pleased.  Big shot representatives from St. James’s Episcopal, First Baptist, Centenary United Methodist and other “important” churches have sought him out to ask him challenging questions and to publicly dispute Jesus’ claims about himself.  But these big shots are not the only ones who have heard of Jesus.  Other people, less important people, have been healed and they are calling their friends and family members all over Virginia. 

So, after awhile Jesus escapes to Afton Mountain, where he can take a breather and regroup from all the attention that has been given him.  He gathers himself, and then comes down to Greenwood to teach his disciples.  When he gets down here, he realizes that huge crowds have gathered.  These aren’t the same stentorian religious leaders that challenged him so decorously in Richmond.  This is a ragtag group from all over the state.  People have packed up meals for several days and walked from Tidewater, from Alexandria, from south Boston, even from Wise.  Hearing stories of healing, they come seeking an encounter with the living God, hoping to see a miracle or be healed themselves. 

In this crowd are the unemployed, meth addicts, migrant workers, high school dropouts, the terminally ill, the elderly, children skipping school, widows, and of course, the curious.  This is not a group you would want to bring home to your mother.  You’re in the group, too.  But, you never went to college or got the job you had now.  You never fell in love, got married and had children.  You’re pretty lonely and you’re definitely broke.  You look around at the people surrounding you and you start to laugh because they are so pitiful.  You’re pitiful.  Finally, Jesus arrives and when he starts speaking, the hairs on the back of you neck rise. 

Your whole life you have been led to believe that the blessed are those who have a steady income, and family that loves them.  You believed that the blessed are those in power, who drive fancy cars.  You believe that the blessed are those who never shed a tear and cruise along in life without any challenges.

Imagine your surprise you over hear Jesus say the following sentences to his disciples.

Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.

Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.

Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

These words of Jesus pierce your heart.  He is calling you blessed, your life blessed. 

Your whole life you have been told that you aren’t worth anything, because you’ve never achieved anything the world considers valuable.  Yet this holy man, who has the power to heal, the power to do miracles is choosing to call you blessed. Jesus is saying that you are loved by God, favored by God. 

Next, Jesus’ words get even stranger. 

He says,

But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.

Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.

Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.

Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.

Jesus is flipping everything your culture believes on its ear.  You can hear the murmurs in the crowd, especially from the folks who have a little money.  They don’t really like what they are hearing.

You on the other hand, are too busy having your mind blown to murmur.  Your whole concept of who God is and what God is like and what the kingdom of God will be like is being turned topsy turvy.  You start to understand that just because your church or your society says something about God or about you, does not mean it is true.  You start to understand that God’s values are about relationship rather than acquisition.  You start to understand all the great stuff rich people have, rather than being a reward from God, can actually function as a block between people and God. 

You watch some of these rich folks as they realize the cost of following Jesus.  Some of them are up for the challenge.  They know that a relationship with God is such an incredible, unique experience that in perspective, money and possessions aren’t that big a deal.  You can tell other folks are really weighing their options.  It is not easy to create a life that is rich of wonderful experiences and possessions.  That kind of a life takes years of effort, hard work, and sacrifices.  Following Jesus has no guarantees of earthly pleasure or reward.  A third group of rich people do not need any time to think.  They walk away, convinced Jesus is a nut.

They don’t quite understand, like you do, this blessedness that Jesus describes is the deepest kind of well-being that exists.  Blessedness is a kind of well being that no material object can match.  Blessedness is being loved not for what you have acquired or what you have done, but for being exactly who you are.  Blessedness fills the deepest sadnesses of our hearts with joy.  Blessedness is undeserved, unasked for and always surprising.  Blessedness forces us to acknowledge that all the “stuff” of this life is just. . .”stuff”, ephemeral and transitory.  In contrast, blessedness is eternal and real. 

Blessedness turns the world upside down and forces us to look at life an entirely different way.  Blessedness is grace.

As you watch all the different reactions to Jesus, you process what you are seeing and you understand that the real blessedness comes from knowing Jesus better, from being in relationship with God.  So, when Jesus leaves Greenwood, you follow him.  You don’t pack up your things, you don’t say your goodbyes, you just follow him, so your journey of blessedness can begin.