Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Fifth Sunday of Lent B



 Abel and Melchizedek Sacrificing,
Basilica di S. Vitale, 
from Art in the Christian Tradition
a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, 
Nashville, TN.

March 22, 2015

I have a confession to make: I don't much care for today's gospel reading; in fact, deep down, sometimes I don't like it at all.
You know, John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life."

Luther once said, this verse is "the gospel in a nutshell."
However, there is something troubling, even scandalous at the heart of this beloved verse.
Notice that God doesn't ask our opinion about all this first.
God doesn't ask our permission.
God doesn't even consult us.
God, in fact, brooks no objection but just goes ahead and gives the Son over to die...for us.

Do you see what I mean?
Part of me is incredibly grateful and part of me pretty indignant.
I mean, how dare God!
How dare God sacrifice so much for us and by doing so have such a claim on us!
It's not just scandalous but, if you think about it, even offensive, as it leaves absolutely no room for our hopes and plans, our wants or desires.
It leaves us, that is, completely out of control.

Some years ago I preached a sermon when I compared this verse--the giving of the Son without our consent or consultation-­to the scandal of infant Baptism.
After all, we similarly bring young children to the baptismal font before they can offer their consent and simply immerse them in God's love.
How offensive, some might say, that we don't wait until they are "of age" and can decide for themselves.
But that's the heart of infant Baptism, when you think of it:
God just plain adopts us, makes us God's own, and pledges to be both with us and for us forever.
All this whether we are ready, interested, or eager to receive it or not!
For this reason, I went on, perhaps we should add four words to our service of Baptism to highlight the scandalous, even
offensive, nature of the sacrament: "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit...like it or not"

A week or two after I preached this sermon, Tom, a member of our parish, told me a story.
Several nights earlier, Tom's six year-old son, Benjamin, protested his bedtime.
Frustrated by his father's refusal to budge, Benjamin finally became so frustrated that he said, "Daddy, I hate you!"
Tom, possessing the presence of mind I wish I more frequently had replied, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Ben, but I love you."
And then what do you think Benjamin said? "Oh, it's okay." Or maybe, "Sorry, Dad. I love you, too."
Nope.
When Tom told his son that he loved him, Benjamin yelled back, "Don't say that!"
Surprised, Tom continued, "But, Ben, but it's true--I love you." "Don't say that, Daddy."
"But I love you, Ben."
"Stop saying that, Daddy! Stop saying it right now!"
And then it came, Tom reported, almost completely unbidden: "Benjamin, now listen to me: I love you...like it or not!"

Even at six years old, you see, Benjamin realized that in the face of unconditional love he was powerless.
If Tom had been willing to negotiate--"I'll love you if you go to bed nicely"--then Benjamin would have been a player:
"Okay, this time, but I'm not eating my vegetables at dinner tomorrow."
But once Tom refused to negotiate, refused to make his love for his son conditional on something Benjamin did, then Ben could do nothing but accept or flee that love.


The same is true with us.
If God makes God's great love for the world and us conditional, then we, suddenly, have tremendous power.
We can negotiate.
We can threaten to reject God's love.
We can even tell God to go take a hike if we don't care for God's terms.

 But when God just loves us--completely and unconditionally--and when God just goes and dies for us, well then the jig is up; there's just nothing we can do to influence God.
And that's just what happens in this verse.

Listen to it once more: "For 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. Indeed,
God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."

And there it is, in a nutshell:
God in Jesus has made God's decision...and it is for us.
Yes, we can run.
But we can't change the fact that God loves us, that God in fact loves the whole world more than we can imagine.
And so no wonder this is the world's most popular Bible verse, because it is, indeed, good news, even the best news.
But first it's hard.
Hard because we're not in control.
Hard because it's not up to us.
Hard because every time we hear how much God loves us we also know that we had nothing to do with it, cannot influence it, and therefore are out control.

And, sometimes, that can make us afraid.

Monday, March 16, 2015

Some thoughts for Tuesday week 4 of Lent



I saw a stranger today.
I put food for him in the eating-place,
And drink in the drinking-place,
And music in the listening-place.
In the Holy Name of the Trinity
He blessed myself and my house,
My goods and my family.
And the lark said in her warble,
Often, often, often
Goes Christ in the stranger's guise
0, oft and oft and oft,
Goes Christ in the stranger's guise. 
Irish tune


NOWHERE does the Torah say, Invite your guest to pray; but it does tell us to offer a guest food, drink and a bed.
Jewish proverb


n just‑
'spring    when the world is mud‑
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles    far    and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far    and    wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
    the
goat-footed

balloonMan    whistles
far
and
wee
eecummings



Fourth Sunday of Lent B



Image: The Romanesque crucifix 
hanging in the Fuentiduena Chapel
in The Cloisters, NYC. 
Photo by Rick Morley.

March 15, 2015


I have a confession to make: I don't much care for today's gospel reading; in fact, deep down, sometimes I don't like it at all.
You know, John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life."

Luther once said, this verse is "the gospel in a nutshell."
However, there is something troubling, even scandalous at the heart of this beloved verse.
Notice that God doesn't ask our opinion about all this first.
God doesn't ask our permission.
God doesn't even consult us.
God, in fact, brooks no objection but just goes ahead and gives the Son over to die...for us.
Do you see what I mean?
Part of me is incredibly grateful and part of me pretty indignant.
I mean, how dare God!
How dare God sacrifice so much for us and by doing so have such a claim on us!
It's not just scandalous but, if you think about it, even offensive, as it leaves absolutely no room for our hopes and plans, our wants or desires.
It leaves us, that is, completely out of control.

Some years ago I preached a sermon when I compared this verse--the giving of the Son without our consent or consultation-to the scandal of infant Baptism.
After all, we similarly bring young children to the baptismal font before they can offer their consent and simply immerse them in God's love.
How offensive, some might say, that we don't wait until they are "of age" and can decide for themselves.
But that's the heart of infant Baptism, when you think of it:
God just plain adopts us, makes us God's own, and pledges to be both with us and for us forever.

           All this whether we are ready, interested, or eager to receive it or not! For this reason, I went on, perhaps we should add four words to our service of Baptism to highlight the scandalous, even       offensive, nature of the sacrament: "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit...like it or not"

A week or two after I preached this sermon, Tom, a member of our parish, told me a story.         
Several nights earlier, Tom's six year-old son, Benjamin got upset when told “it’s time for bed.”
Frustrated by his father's refusal to budge, Benjamin finally became so frustrated that he said, "Daddy, I hate you!"
Tom, possessing the presence of mind I wish I more frequently had replied, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Ben, but I love you."
And then what do you think Benjamin said? "Oh, it's okay." Or maybe, "Sorry, Dad. I love you, too."
Nope.
When Tom told his son that he loved him, Benjamin yelled back, "Don't say that!"
Surprised, Tom continued, "But, Ben, b1i it's true--I love you." "Don't say that, Daddy."
"But I love you, Ben."
"Stop saying that, Daddy! Stop saying it right now!"
And then it came, Tom reported, almost completely unbidden:
"Benjamin, now listen to me: I love you...like it or not!"

Even at six years old, you see, Benjamin realized that in the face of unconditional love he was powerless.
If Tom had been willing to negotiate--"I'll love you if you go to bed nicely"--then Benjamin would have been a player:
"Okay, this time, but I'm not eating my vegetables at dinner tomorrow."
But once Tom refused to negotiate, refused to make his love for his son conditional on something Benjamin did, then Ben could do nothing but accept or flee that love.
The same is true with us.
If God makes God's great love for the world and us conditional, then we, suddenly, have tremendous power.
We can negotiate.
We can threaten to reject God's love.
We can even tell God to go take a hike if we don't care for God's terms.

But when God just loves us--completely and unconditionally--and when God just goes and dies for us, well then the jig is up; there's just nothing we can do to influence God.
And that's just what happens in this verse.
Listen to it once more: "For 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. Indeed,
God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."

And there it is, in a nutshell:
God in Jesus has made God's decision...and it is for us.
Yes, we can run.
But we can't change the fact that God loves us, that God in fact loves the whole world more than we can imagine.
And so no wonder this is the world's most popular Bible verse, because it is, indeed, good news, even the best news.
But first it's hard.
Hard because we're not in control.
Hard because it's not up to us.
Hard because every time we hear how much God loves us we also know that we had nothing to do with it, cannot influence it, and therefore are out control.
And, sometimes, that can make us afraid.


Monday, March 9, 2015

Catholics against capital punishment




National Catholic magazines unite with Popes John Paul II and Francis to call for an end to capital punishment in the United States. To read the article click here.

Third Sunday of Lent B


Image: Jesus' cleansing of the temple, 
Cathedrale d'Amiens 
from Art in the Christian Tradition
a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, 
Nashville, TN.

March 8, 2015

One foggy, stormy night at sea, a ship's captain caught sight of what looked like the lights of another ship heading straight toward him.
He ordered his signalman to relay a message to the oncoming ship: "Change your course ten degrees to the south."
Immediately came the reply, "Change your course ten degrees to the north."
The lights were getting closer, so the captain responded firmly, "I'm a captain. Change your course south."
But the reply was equally firm, "I'm a seaman first class. Change your course north."
Outraged at such insolence as the lights loomed nearer and nearer, the captain fired back the mes­sage, "You idiot! I'm giving you one last chance to change your course south. I'm on a battleship!"
To which he received the cool reply,
"I'm giving you one last chance to change your course north. I'm in a lighthouse."

How easy it is to misunderstand or ignore what is right in front of us.
How easy it is to ignore the "lighthouses" in our lives.
Today's Gospel ends with some chilling words on this very matter: "Jesus needed no one to give him testimony about human nature.
For he was well aware of what was in the human heart." Do those words make us a little nervous?
They should. And if they don't, we really ought to be worried, because that's a pretty sure sign that we haven't yet seen a good photo of our innards.
So let's think about the dark side of our inner selves for a mo­ment.
What would Jesus see - what does he see ­there at the core of our insides?
An awful lot and a lot that's awful.
We started sinning young - was it fighting over toys or hating a new sibling or trying to manipulate the family with tantrums?
Who can even remember where we started.
But with the passage of time, we all developed our own particular specialties, truly rotten habits, stupid, mean, faithless, hateful things we could do regularly without even thinking about them.
And every time we made a mean or faithless choice, a little dose of spiritual poison was released into our system and headed straight for our hearts.
That has occurred many times over, day in day out, year after year, up to this moment.
The result is the damaged and wounded heart that Jesus sees this morning with perfect clarity.

So why didn't Jesus just wash his hands of the whole lot of us long ago?
Why was he willing to die on our behalf when he knew what was in us?
Because, in seeing our hearts with perfect clarity, Jesus saw more than the damage and rubble left by our sins.
He also saw our striving, our hungering for what is true and good, our longing for wholeness, our willingness to start over again and again, even though we know in advance that our greatest successes will be mixed with failures.
And seeing all that, he took pity on us.
He took us into his heart and encircled us with his compassion. We didn't earn any part of that; it's all a free gift!
What does he ask in return for such a gift?
Only that we tell ourselves the truth about all this.
 And the truth is that without his gift of compassion we would die.
If we have understood that inside, our hearts will have to soften and we will have to give the same compassion as freely as we have received it.
Compassion is not optional.
We owe it without any charge because we have been given it freely and without charge.
Compassion is not a burden but a unique opportunity.
It's the one chance we have to say, "Thanks, Lord, for the gift of life and for that very long line of second chances that stretches back to childhood and that reaches forward all the way to the end."
So let us begin now to speak with our deeds as well as our words.
May every day of ours - every act and every choice - speak loud and clear:
Thank you, Lord. Thank you very much!


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Second Sunday of Lent B



March 1, 2015

There once was a king whose greatest desire was to gain absolute power over every square inch of his kingdom.
He had succeeded in removing all the obstacles to his complete control except one: the people still put their ancient god above the king.
The king summoned his three wisest advisors to find a way to put an end to such worship.
"Where," asked the king, "where might the people's god be hidden and so be made to vanish from their lives and cease to challenge my rule?"

The first advisor suggested hiding the god at the summit of the highest mountain.
"No," said the king, "The people would abandon their homes and climb the highest mountain to search for their god."

The second advisor proposed hiding the people's god at the bottom of the sea.
But the king rejected that idea as well: "The people would probe the ocean's depths to find their god," he said.

Finally the third and wisest advisor, a wrinkled and bent old man, spoke his advice in a hoarse whisper. "0 mighty king," he said, "hide the people's god somewhere in their everyday lives. There they will never find it!"

The trusty advisor understood how we are!
God is hidden, but not in some remote, faraway spot.
God is right here in our everyday lives.
Yet we rarely see him and rarely recognize his presence.
All too often we fear that we are walking alone and we dread that our journey may have no destination, may be just a long walk to nowhere.
All too often we are deaf and blind to God.
So it is for us ­doubting and weary wayfarers - that Jesus was transfigured and, just for a moment, shone like the sun on the top of that mountain.
And it is to us, the blind and the deaf, that God is speaking through that stunning event.

And what is God saying? "I am with you always, walking at your side.
And your name is written on the palm of my hand.
If you listen carefully, you'll hear me whispering to you.
If you watch closely, you'll see that I am here.
So watch and listen!"

Tt takes time to learn how to listen attentively and 'respectfully to everyday life.
It takes time to learn how to hear what's really going on around us and to see what's always been right under our nose.
 It does take time, but if we persist in paying respectful attention to everyday life, very slowly we'll begin to catch a glimpse of God when we look at a rose;
we'll begin to feel the nearness of God in the cool of an evening breeze;
we'll begin to hear God's voice echoing inside the voice of a friend. And we'll begin to know the warmth of God's presence as we hold a newborn child.
The road we walk is a long one, often rough, and sometimes dangerous.
But God desires that none of us walk that road alone.
God desires that at every moment of every day we have the comfort, the strength, and the delight of divine company.
 A friendship that is ours for the taking.
What a tragedy it would be to settle for anything less!
What a tragedy it would be to walk forever alone!

Let that tragedy not be ours!

First Sunday of Lent B


February 22, 2015

One of the great ironies in life is that, too often, success brings more unhappiness, jealousy, and destructiveness than joy, blessing, and harmony into the world.
Daily our newspapers carry the familiar headlines: Millionaire superstar arrested on drug charges. Movie star found dead of overdose. Baseball star jailed for spousal abuse.. Rock star dead of unknown causes at age 33.

Those are the big headlines, but these things happen in our lives at another level. Our successes and achievements are often the cause of self-centeredness, arrogance, jealousy, and destructiveness both inside ourselves and within our relationships.

Why? Why is it that the things which should bring us happiness, admiration, and harmony, so often bring us the opposite? Are success, admiration, and money bad? No.

All good things come from God, success and money included. What is bad is that, too often, these are attained before a person has been sufficiently prepared to handle them.
Then they destroy rather than build up. In biblical terms, what happens is that someone enters the promised land before spending sufficient time in the desert.

A bit grandiose perhaps? Why dignify these with high biblical references?
Because they so clearly illustrate the spiritual truth: Before possessing the promised land there must first be a time in the desert.

What is meant by this? The desert, biblically and mystically, is not so much a physical place, a geography, as a place in the heart.
The desert is that place where we go to face our demons, feel our smallness, be in a special intimacy with God, and prepare ourselves for the promised land.
The idea of the desert as a place of purification has deep biblical roots. The scriptures tell us that, before they could enter into the promised land, the Israelites had to first wander in the desert for forty years—letting themselves be led by God, undergoing many trials, and swallowing much impatience.
This was God’s planning. Thus the desert came to be seen as the place that correctly shapes the heart and the idea developed that one should prepare oneself for major transitions by first spending some time in the desert.

Initially this was taken quite literally and religious men and women looking for purification would often go off into some actual physical desert and stay there for a time. Jesus did this.
After his baptism, he went off for “forty days” into the Sinai desert.

Later, as the scriptures developed, the concept of desert was de-literalized.
It was taken to mean more a place in the heart than a place on a map and was understood to be a mystical thing:

Before you are ready to fully and gratefully receive life, you have to first be readied by facing your own demons and this means going “into the desert,” namely, entering that place where you are most frightened, lonely, and threatened. .

In order to be filled by God one must first be emptied.  
The desert does this for you. It empties you.

Therefore, it is not a place wherein you can decide how you want to grow and change, but is a place that you undergo, expose yourself to, and have the courage to face.
The idea is not so much that you do things there, but that things happen to you while there—silent, unseen, transforming things.

The desert purifies you, almost against your will, through God’s efforts. In the desert, what really occurs is a cosmic confrontation between God and the devil; though this happens within and through you.

Our job is only to be have the courage to be there. The idea is that God does the work, providing we have the courage to show up.
In terms of an image, this is what the season of lent is meant to be, time in the desert to courageously face the chaos and the demons within us and to let God do battle with them through us.
As the prophet Hosea vividly describes it, the desert is the place where God speaks to our heart,
the place where our covenant relationship with God is renewed as it was in the beginning.