Ordinary 19C, August 11, 2013 -- Guest Preacher: Alan Olson

No Jesus, Know Fear; Know Jesus, No Fear

Psalm 50:1-8, 22-23

¹The mighty one, God the Lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting.

²Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God shines forth.

³Our God comes and does not keep silence, before him is a devouring fire, and a mighty tempest all around him.

⁴He calls to the heavens above and to the earth, that he may judge his people:

⁵“Gather to me my faithful ones, who made a covenant with me by sacrifice!”

⁶The heavens declare his righteousness, for God himself is judge. Selah

⁷“Hear, O my people, and I will speak, O Israel, I will testify against you. I am God, your God.

⁸Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you; your burnt offerings are continually before me.

²²“Mark this, then, you who forget God, or I will tear you apart, and there will be no one to deliver.

²³Those who bring thanksgiving as their sacrifice honor me; to those who go the right way I will show the salvation of God.”

Luke 12:32-40

³²“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. ³³Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. ³⁴For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. ³⁵“Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; ³⁶be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. ³⁷Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them.³⁸If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves. ³⁹“But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. ⁴⁰You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

            When I was selecting texts for this morning’s lessons, I had a difficult choice to make. One of the other Old Testament readings in the Lectionary for this week is from the first chapter of Isaiah, and it includes verses 10-13:

1:10 Hear the word of the LORD, you rulers of Sodom! Listen to the teaching of our God, you people of Gomorrah!

1:11 What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the LORD; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats.

1:12 When you come to appear before me, who asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more;

1:13 bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation—I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.

God strikes the same tone in Psalm 50, acknowledging the frequent sacrifices made by Israel, yet rebuking them all the same. The main charge against Israel is that the people are not making their offerings with thanksgiving. Rather, they are just going through the motions—sacrifice is an empty observance and God is not satisfied by this. The people of God have forgotten God; the price for this forgetfulness? God has the right to tear Israel apart. And the ending for today’s reading from Isaiah is about the same, as God says to Israel, “If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured by the sword.” That’s pretty scary stuff.

            This language of charges and rights and judgments almost seems to be borrowed from the courtroom. In fact, this is a common device in the Old Testament. Biblical scholars call this form a covenant lawsuit. God is placing the people Israel on trial for not living up to their obligations. Another place where you may have noticed this is in the Book of Micah, chapter 6, verses 1-8. In that passage, God lists many of the things that God has done for Israel, and then God demands that Israel answer for its shortcomings. I mention this because the answers to the charges that God raises against Israel are remarkably similar. In Micah 6:8, the prophet exhorts Israel to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. Similarly, Isaiah instructs Israel to: “learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”

            It sounds easy, yet Israel seems to have trouble living into these instructions… and so do we. I think part of the problem, which is reinforced by these scriptures, is that God offers us heaping helpings of fear. Fear can be a great motivator, but sometimes it motivates us too well; it distorts the larger picture. For centuries, the Church has taught us that our main purpose here on Earth is to get into Heaven when we die. And if we obey what we’re told in the scriptures, and we live right, then we’ll get in. That’s it! Oh, and we should also be scared of going to Hell. Really, really scared. Fear helped to keep us in line.

            And then some crazy people came along and challenged some of these teachings. Crazy people, like Martin Luther and John Calvin, who didn’t believe in works righteousness, the idea that you or I could work our way into Heaven by doing good deeds or perfectly observing all of God’s commandments—if such a thing were humanly possible. Don’t worry. It’s not. Don’t worry.

            This is how Jesus begins this morning’s lesson from Luke: “Do not be afraid, little flock.” Jesus begins by dialing down the fear: “Do not be afraid, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Wow, that’s really happy and hopeful. Then, instead of telling us to be afraid, Jesus tells us how we should live, and that’s truly frightening: he tells us to sell all our possessions. Sell all our possessions!

            I can’t believe that none of you jumped up and ran out of here. You’re all going to wait to sell all your possessions until after church, right? Yeah, me, too.

            And this is where the widows and the orphans and the thankfulness come back into the picture. What Jesus is talking about, what Isaiah is talking about, what Micah was talking about, and what the Psalmist was talking about was living in a right relationship with God. To do this, we must thank God for the love that God has shown us, and then we must love one another—completely and unconditionally—just as God loves us. We call this agape love. I’m sure you’ve heard this term before.

            A great example of this can be found in Mark 12:29-31, when Jesus answers the scribe’s question, which is the greatest commandment: “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

            Caring for the widow and the orphan, providing for the poor, advocating for the homeless, feeding the hungry, these are acts of love for our human family. We all talk about doing these things, and some of us do these things . . . some of the time. So let me ask you the uncomfortable question: When is the last time one of you sold an extra TV set, or an old car, and gave the money to charity? When’s the last time you went out to a restaurant and ate a really expensive meal? Could you have opted for a less expensive mean, and then, maybe made a donation to your local food bank?

            Before you start squirming in your pews, do not be afraid. I am not here to condemn you. I am no holier than any of you. I have also missed countless opportunities for acts of charity; I have failed, time and again, to live into that right relationship with God. And God loves me still, just as God loves each of you. Do not be afraid.

            Jesus is not calling for each of us to sell all our earthly possessions, though he is calling for us to let go of our greed and give freely of ourselves. Greed is an easy trap to fall into. Anxiety and fear can lead us to believe that we won’t have enough: enough food, enough money, enough love. So we hoard them when we can find them. This is a problem. The Apostle Paul might call this idolatry; at the very least, it seems that we are putting goods in the place of God, and in our hoarding, we disregard the needs of others.[1]

            In our disregard for the needs of others, we fail to practice agape love. Our failure works on another level. If our desire to hoard comes from a fear of scarcity, then we are also failing to fully trust in God. We’re not alone in this. Think of the Israelites, wandering through the desert. God led them out of Egypt, sent them manna, yet they complained about the accommodations on the trip. Even worse, they worshipped a golden calf while Moses was up on Mt. Sinai. They were not willing to trust completely in God. I think it’s safe to say that fear can interrupt a healthy relationship with God.

            Yet God did not let the Israelites perish in the desert. As many times as they turned away, God welcomed them back. What’s more, when the people of Israel continued to have trouble living in a right relationship with God, God entered the world in the person of Jesus. God’s only son was sent to teach us how to restore our relationship with God. What an amazing act of grace!

            And that restoration begins with prayer, as we were taught by Jesus. Let’s look at the language of the Lord’s Prayer. I do not ask God to provide for me. No. Collectively, we ask for God to provide for us just what we need—and nothing more! We do not ask for an abundance of resources; we ask for our daily bread. Our daily bread.

            It strikes me that the Lord’s Prayer is also a prayer of trust. By voicing this prayer, we are saying that we trust God to feed us, to take care of our needs. We ask God to provide for everyone; sometimes we are the instruments by which God provides for others, it is part of the cycle of trust and agape love. We trust that God loves us enough to provide for us, and we reflect that love and trust to those who cannot care for themselves. All the time, Jesus reminds us, “Do not fear.” This is the grace of God. “‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace,” in the person of Jesus, “my fears relieved.” And with deepest thanksgiving, I say, thanks be to God! Amen!

---

[1] Fred B. Craddock. Luke. Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990.

Ordinary 18C, August 4, 2013 -- Guest Preacher, Keith Mihelcic

Identity Crisis

Colossians 3:1-11
So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry).On account of these the wrath of God is coming on those who are disobedient. These are the ways you also once followed, when you were living that life.
But now you must get rid of all such things--anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices
and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator. In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!

Luke 12:13-21
Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me."
But he said to him, "Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you? “And he said to them, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions. “Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops? ‘Then he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry. ‘But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? ‘So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

When it comes to picking a topic for a sermon, there are essentially two types of preachers out there: there are the ones who, when they write a sermon like to choose their own texts. Perhaps they feel called to preach on a certain topic, or perhaps they decide to preach on a theme or a series that they have come up with. Then there are the others, like myself, who rely on the lectionary to suggest to them what to preach from.

I, myself am not as imaginative or as hardworking as the first group! I would say once, maybe twice, I have selected my own texts to preach from. I prefer to have the lectionary just throw me a few verses to choose from.

Now this has led me into trouble before. Two of the hardest sermons I ever researched and wrote, I preached here, at Emsworth UPC. The first one was on that Presbyterian staple, the highly confusing, sometimes controversial, yet always fun, predestination. The second was even worse. It was on that wonderful, wonderful Romans passage in which Paul speaks of the hate of God. That is always a fun verse to try to wrap your mind around.

Yet, after initially reading the texts for today, I immediately had one thought pop into my mind: mistaken identity. It is a much bigger problem than most of us would like to think. Mistaken identity has almost reached epidemic-like levels in this country, in my opinion. Also, this is not something new. As we will see mistaken identity has been an issue for thousands of years, from the time of Adam and Eve in the garden, to this very day. This may seem a bit of a stretch, but hear me out.

Let’s start with us, the body of Christ. Do we suffer from mistaken identity? Do we really know who we are? If we are just a bunch of loving compassionate people following Jesus, why don’t we always act like it? Why don’t I always act like it? What it comes down to, in my opinion, is faith and belief. Many of you, I am sure, have heard the analogy that goes something like this: I believe that this chair will support my weight. I honestly do. Well then, why don’t I turn that belief into faith and have a seat?

Jesus was very clear on the way we are to live. However, just in case he was a little ambiguous with his words, the Apostle Paul clarifies them for us. We know how we are to live. We have been given the perfect example in Jesus Christ.

When I was younger I would behave badly and my Mom would ask me “How old are you?” When I would sheepishly answer she would then say “Act like it!”  I guess we can rephrase the question. Whenever we find ourselves falling into all too familiar traps and patterns we can ask ourselves “Who is our Lord and Savior who died for our sins?”

Jesus Christ.

Then perhaps we should act like He is. Perhaps we should act like Him.

The term Christians means, literally, “little Christs”. Are we? Do we act like it? Well, we are.

We should act like who we are. No matter if we like it or not, we are called to, and hopefully compelled to, live and act a certain way. Paul gives us a fantastic list of things that we need to get rid of or “put away”. Granted there are some nasty things on that list. I won’t ask for a show of hands but I bet the majority of us can point to one or two of those things on this list, maybe more, that we are guilty of. Maybe even recently. This month perhaps? This week? week. Maybe even today.

I know that in my own life it seems like I put on anger when I get into my car.  I get angry sometimes when I drive and people are not driving up to my expectations. I get frustrated and think bad thoughts when the cashier at the store is having a bad day and taking for-ev-er to check people out. Come on, lady. Hurry up. Don’t you know who I am? Do I know who I am? Sometimes I don’t recognize myself. Jesus would weep, I think.

Now an interlude…… and a confession.

When I write a sermon the first thing I do is come up with a general theme. After that, or sometimes right around the same time I usually come up with a title. Then I will write an outline, do a little research, and then I actually get down to writing it.

With this sermon I did all of that and I was just to that line, (hopefully you remember it!) where I said “Jesus would weep”. After that point, it seems my inspiration dried up and my motivation left me. Yes, I still had an outline that I could have worked from and I tried a few times. Yet nothing that I came up with sounded good to me. It just didn’t feel right. Now, I know that most folks who write, or paint or do “creative” things have a moment when they look at something they are working on and think “This is total garbage. What am I doing here?”

That is how I felt every time I decided to go beyond that aforementioned sentence.

I will be honest; I have had a rough couple of weeks. Tore a calf muscle, (it is almost healed), my Mom went into the hospital in very dramatic fashion, (she is doing fine now, see?) my Dad had to go to the ER with an issue the other night. Add on to that the stress of work and my boss being on vacation, so I am running the show, and customers complaining, and people in my department coming in three hours late, on and on and on…all this stress, at times. All this business. All this living.

At one point on Friday, in the midst of all the chaos, I sat back in my chair at work took a deep breath and it came to me. Or should I say, I heard a still small voice inside my head. I knew why I was so blocked when it came to this sermon.

I had forgotten. It wasn’t so much as mistaken identity; I was having an identity crisis. Forgetting who I am, I had spiritual amnesia so to speak. I think that this is an issue that many of us have and live with from time to time.

As Solomon wrote “There is nothing new under the sun”. Nothing. This kind of identity crisis and the spiritual malaise that comes with it has been going on for a long, long time. Think of all the people of God in the Old Testament. Now think about the faults that each one had. Murderers. Adulterers. Drunks. Cowards. People with breath-taking anger management issues. People a lot like us.

People who were blessed by God, saw God work and move in their lives, yet people who still did not get it. People who still clung to their old ways. Isn’t that us?

I know it’s me. From time to time I get this way where I feel just so overwhelmed, and you would think it would force me to my knees, and maybe, at first, it does. But I get up and try to take it all on again myself. Alone. Of my own accord and power.

I forget who I am in Christ. Or maybe sometimes I do not fully realize who he is. Jesus got that a lot. Look at the guy in our Gospel lesson. He thinks Jesus came to solve family disputes over property. Sure, rabbis back then were often asked to settle disputes, but that is not why Jesus came. Jesus plainly through his parable tells this man you are worried about the wrong things. Your priorities are way out of line. I am not here to be your lawyer.

Believe it or not, I am beginning to think that perhaps Jesus does not care about my financial well being. At all. I believe Pastor Susan said it in a sermon a few weeks ago, something to the effect of, “when you have absolutely nothing - THAT is when your true character comes through.

That is what Jesus wants. The TRUE “us” to come out. Ever notice that people in poor countries who are Christians are so joyous? They have so little, yet they rejoice so much. We have SO much and we sulk. We want more. WE are driven by our consumerism and our selfish desires and fleshly lusts, to what end? Why?

I went out and got a new phone the other night. I didn’t really need a new phone. The one I had was working just fine. It was old and it did not have all of the bells and whistles that some of the newer ones have. Also, my contract was up, so technically the phone was free. I paid a small “upgrade” fee. Whatever that is.

You know why I needed that phone? So that when I pass away, when I see Jesus in heaven I can say Jesus, check out my new phone! Isn’t it great?”

But wait.

I can’t take that with me, can I? None of us can take anything with us? So what will I have with me when I meet Jesus face to face? Nothing. None of my stuff?

No. It will be just me as I am, and as I was meant to be. I will be standing there before Jesus in all his glory.

I am not trying to make anyone feel bad this morning. Not at all. That’s not my job today. I am preaching the sermon I felt called to write and deliver. If you have any feelings at all about anything I have touched on this morning, I encourage you to think about it. To pray long and hard about it. I know I will.

The thing is, as I was writing and thinking about this sermon a thought kept crossing my mind. I think I may be the one person in here who needs to hear this the most. In turn, instead of preaching to the choir I am preaching to myself.

However, I think that God wanted me to share it with all of you.

For we must remember our identities. For our real identities, when we strip away all the things, and all of the sins of the flesh that cling to all of us, our real, authentic identities come out when we stand before Christ. For as we heard today we have been risen in Christ. THAT is our identity. Our lives, our REAL lives are hidden with him. Our lives our not in the sins we commit or the things we own. Although, those things can overshadow and threaten to eclipse the lives we are called to lead.

Our identities became one with Jesus when we gave our lives to Him. We need so desperately to remember that. We should not remember this like we would some random fact or piece of information. We need to remember this as we live out a strong, vibrant faith. As we live out our identities, identities that I pray will never be in crisis. Amen

Taize on August 14th at East Liberty Presbyterian Church -- Update

Wednesday, August 14  -- 6:00 – 8:00 p.m. @ East Liberty Presbyterian Church

We will gather at East Liberty Presbyterian Church for their weekly Taize service of sung prayers and meditation.  At 6:00 p.m., we will meet with Rev. Mary Lynn Callahan, Director of Spiritual Life Ministries at ELPC, who will tell us about the history and form of Taize.  The service begins at 7:00 p.m.  Pastor Susan will be available to accompany those who would like to walk the prayer labyrinth in ELPC’s outdoor courtyard either immediately before or after the Taize service.

Originally a refuge during the war, Taize has developed into an ecumenical prayer center for visitors from all over the world. Today the Taize Community is made up of over a hundred resident brothers, both Catholics and from various Protestant backgrounds/traditions. Taize wants to be a sign of reconciliation between divided Christians and between separated peoples.  

Ordinary 16C, July 21, 2013

“The Jesus Distraction”

Luke 10:38-42

³⁸Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. ³⁹She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. ⁴⁰But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” ⁴¹But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; ⁴²there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Of course, it doesn’t happen all the time, but it happens more frequently than I’d like.  Out of the phone calls I receive over the course of a week, I estimate at least ninety-five percent of them begin something like this:

“Hello Susan?  This is so and so.  Listen, I know you’re busy but I wonder if you could…”

“Susan, I know you’re busy.”  I HATE hearing those words at the beginning of a phone call.  Not because I hate the person calling.  Not because I hate doing the things that people are calling to ask me to do. No, I hate hearing those words because I know it has happened again.  When people tell me that they know I’m busy, it means that, despite my best intentions, I’ve somehow drifted into the “Martha zone.”   While I wasn’t paying attention, I unintentionally began to give off the aura of being terribly “busy.”  And that aura of “busy” keeps people at a distance, doesn’t it?  “Busy” gives the impression that I’m somehow more important than I actually am or that what I am doing is far more interesting than the person on the phone or even the person standing right in front of me.  That offending stink of “busyness” makes meaningful relationships with people I care about strained at best, impossible at worst.  When I become distracted by a million small things, it always means I have been less attentive to the movement of the Holy Spirit and things in my life are way out of whack.

The Martha zone.  That crazy, noisy, frustrating place.  We’ve all been there.  Sure you have.  Just ask your spouse.  Your kids.  Your best friends.  We’ve all been there.

Now don’t get me wrong.  Sometimes it’s good to keep a reasonable amount of psychic space between one another.  Boundaries are important.  We all need to know when and how to say "no."  We all need time and space for rest.  If you are an introvert like I am, there is an absolute requirement for me to balance my time with other people with lots of quiet and privacy, or I will lose my good humor and gentle demeanor. 

And yet, I am always uncomfortable with people who give off that “busy, busy, busy” signal. I know a lot of people who constantly give off that vibe. They are the kind of people who cut you off in traffic and cut in front of you at the checkout line.  That kind of busy, busy, busy almost inevitably leads to a blow up, which is exactly what is happening in the story we have in Luke today. 

Do not doubt that this familiar story of Mary and Martha is about a conflict between two sisters -- one is having a really good day, and one is having a really lousy day.  Mary is having the kind of day in which everything has gone just right, leaving the luxury of time for a quiet conversation with a beloved friend who, in this story, just happens to be Jesus.  Martha is having the kind of day in which nothing is going right and it’s going to take some kind of a major miracle for her to get dinner on the table. 

When a bad day becomes an overwhelming day, Martha reacts the same way you and I would.  First, she begins to feel put upon.  Then she feels abandoned.  Finally, she loses her cool.  In a fit of fury, Martha decides that it’s all Mary’s fault.  Her sister is being a total slacker and she’s going to let Mary know exactly how ticked off she is.  To be more precise, Martha’s going to ask Jesus to tell Mary what a slacker she is. Martha puts on her martyr makeup, plants her dishpan hands on her aching hips, and has herself a good old-fashioned pity party right there in front of Jesus.  “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.”

This is one of those texts from the gospels that tend to make everyone who reads it more than a little uneasy.  Because this story of Mary, Martha and Jesus can be interpreted in ways that can end up making us feel that we cannot win, no matter which side of the Mary versus Martha controversy we find ourselves on.   

Some have interpreted this story as Luke’s effort to stifle women who are trying to exercise too much authority in the early Christian community.  So Luke tells a story in which Jesus criticizes Martha for being way too mouthy, and praises Mary for being silent and docile.  The problem with this interpretation is that it doesn’t really square with the rest of Luke’s gospel.  Women are not at all silent or sidelined in Luke.  This is the gospel that begins with the obscure and ordinary young girl singing about the proud and haughty being brought down from their high places of power.  This is the gospel in which a poor widow is so outspoken in her cries for justice that she makes a powerful judge cave in to her demands.  So I think we can safely toss the idea that Luke has a problem with strong women.

Other interpretations suggest that Jesus is criticizing us for being too distracted with the busy work in the church.  That Martha is so busy with the cooking and the stewardship campaign and the broken boiler and the midweek dinner that she has forgotten why she’s in church to begin with.  Maybe Jesus is criticizing Martha for being too religious and she should be more like Mary – more spiritual and studious.

The problem with that theory, of course, is that Jesus did not do ministry in an abstract, spiritual way.  As one commentator pointed out, God did not write a dreamy Valentine in the clouds that said, “Hello world, I love you.”  No, God became embodied, active love in Jesus Christ – the One who entered into the muck and mire of ordinary life.  Jesus was never afraid to get his hands dirty; he touched and healed and ate and drank and got involved in the earthly details of being a human being. Jesus came as the one who serves, not to be served.  Surely, Jesus isn’t giving Martha a hard time for getting dinner on the table and keeping life moving along.  Because isn’t it true that someone has to take out the garbage and clean up the communion cups and make sure the lights stay on?  If all of us sat around like Mary, things would quickly fall apart. And can you imagine Jesus walking into a homeless shelter or a soup kitchen and saying, “Stop all this busy work.  Leave the poor, the homeless, the hungry behind.  Come and sit at my feet and meditate instead?”

Last week, in the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus taught us about the importance of loving our neighbor in real and tangible ways.  He talked about the love of neighbor that is willing to stop and pull a bleeding man out of a ditch.  Some say that here in this story of Mary and Martha, Jesus is teaching us about the importance of loving God – which is what Mary demonstrates as she sits quietly at Jesus’ feet, listening to his teaching.

But we cannot separate loving God and loving neighbor, and this is what I think Luke is getting at in today’s story.  We cannot live out our faith by only being prayerful or only doing good deeds.  We cannot live our lives as Mary or Martha.  We cannot choose to love God or love neighbor. We have to somehow mix the two together so that love of God and love of neighbor become intertwined so deeply that you cannot tell where one ends and one begins. 

I thought about Mary and Martha this week as I was preparing for our Adult Vacation Bible school evening on centering prayer.  A lot of people showed up, many more than I ever expected given the sultry temperature of the church this week and the subject matter.  But I was delightfully surprised that 18 people came on a hot and humid Wednesday night to sit in a room without air-conditioning, to hear about an ancient form of prayer that requires no special reading, no special skills, and no special spiritual gifts.  Centering prayer requires absolutely nothing other than emptying our minds of our own thoughts, distractions and worries, and wait patiently in silence for God to fill in the empty spaces we’ve created.   All centering prayer requires is the willingness to sit in silence and wait upon the Lord. 

Which is actually much harder than it sounds.  As we discovered together on Wednesday night, emptying our minds and making space for God’s word is really, really difficult.  We live in a noisy, busy, anxiety-driven world. For those of us still in the working world, we often begin our days with a to do list and frantically chase after each item in order to get it ticked off.  Even for those of you in retirement years, there are other anxieties about health issues and money and adult children and aging parents – all of these are the kinds of things that fill you with worry and distractions.   

The problem we have – and the problem Martha has in this story – is not that we have too much to do, but that we are pulled in so many directions that we are no longer distracted by Jesus who wants us to go in his direction.  We are so distracted by the stuff of our lives that it is difficult for Jesus to distract us with the stuff that leads to wholeness and healing.  The crazy, awful worry we carry around makes it hard to hear Jesus’ voice inviting us into a different life filled with much better distractions -- God’s word of mercy, love and grace. 

Later in the gospel of Luke, Jesus says: ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. ²³For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest?” (Lk. 12:22-26)

These words that tell us to stop worrying are perhaps the hardest for us to hear as modern people.  We know that what bothers and distracts us keeps us from being fully present to God and fully present to our neighbor.  We know we should make time and space for God to speak into our hearts and lead us to the sort of work that fills us with love and joy instead of anger and resentment.  We know that worrying kills our spirit in a million different ways, and yet there are days when worry plays on continuous loop in our muddled human brains.

And I wonder…what would it look like if a person – or a church – was utterly distracted by Jesus?

Perhaps it begins by tending to those disciplines of prayer and worship and silence that help us to forget ourselves – if only for 20 minutes a day – so we can hear God.  Perhaps that is how we can improve our odds of choosing the better part, the good part, the connection to God who is Goodness itself.

A person distracted by Jesus, I think, is not motivated by things or problems or consumption or impressing others or judging others or even saving others.  A person distracted by Jesus is at peace, knowing that he or she is loved so thoroughly that they can take the risk of deeply loving someone else, even that stranger in the ditch on the side of the road.  Without constantly coping with the rivalry of doing more or wanting to be more, we can attend to the crazy demands of life without feeling like a victim or a martyr.  We can keep at our work in the kitchen, get dinner on the table, and still hear Jesus.  We can catch his voice no matter where we are because we know what Jesus sounds like.

Our best laid plans, our most compassionate actions, even our most generous contributions of time, talent or money will eventually lead to us being as miserable as Martha if we are not led there by our distraction by Jesus. If our good works are not rooted in God’s loving vision that seeks to repair and restore the whole creation, we will end up broken and beaten down.  Without the distraction of Jesus to keep us focused, we will most certainly burn out.

Tom Long tells the story about a church youth group on a mission trip in Jamaica.  On the trip, the group visited a local elementary school there and observed a classroom seriously overcrowded with children, most of them poor, all of them very needy, noisy and unruly.  The folks on the mission trip were astonished by the way in which teacher interacted with those children.  Despite the poverty and chaos so apparent in that classroom, the teacher carried herself with great calm and patience, and treated every child with tenderness and love.  The group observing her decided that only way the teacher could possibly do such difficult work was because she really loved teaching.  But they were surprised to hear her say, “Oh I don’t come here everyday mainly because I love teaching.  I come here everyday because I love Jesus, and I see Jesus in every one of those children.” [1]

Our work as a community of faith cannot be rooted in our love for the church, for the Bible, for your pastor, for your leadership, or even by people close by or people half way around the world.  But we can believe that we have the capacity to love all of these things and people because we were first loved by Jesus.  It is God’s love that feeds us, enlivens us and empowers us to do all the things we do.  If we can just manage to stay distracted by the distracting presence of Jesus, I am pretty sure we have chosen the better part.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.

---

[1] Tom Long sermon, “Mary and Martha,” July 22, 2007.  Accessed on Day1.org, 7/18/2013.  

Summer Voices -- Guest Preachers for July and August

Summer time not only means vacation time.  It also means an opportunity to hear new and interesting voices in the pulpit.  Please join us this summer at 10 a.m. worship to hear these diverse voices from around the congregation and around the presbytery.

Sunday, July 30 -- Rev. Karen Battle

Rev. Battle was formerly director of justice ministries for Pittsburgh Presbytery.  Currently, she is the organizing pastor of Hazelwood HOPE (House of Prayer for Everyone), a new church development in Pittsburgh Presbytery

Sunday, August 4 -- Keith Mihelcic

Our own Keith Mihelcic will be preaching and leading worship while Susan is away.

Sunday, August 11 -- Alan Olson, Senior at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary

Alan is about to begin his senior year at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.  Alan is an ordained elder in the Presbyterian Church (USA),  a member at Sixth Presbyterian Church and under care as an inquirer with Pittsburgh Presbytery.  Alan recently completed a field education placement at Crafton Heights U.P. Church with Rev. Dave Carver, and has gone on mission trips to Nicaragua, Israel, Mexico and, most recently, Bolivia.

Sunday, September 1 -- Rev. Eugene "Freedom" Blackwell

Read more about Rev. Blackwell and his ministry in Homewood.

Ordinary 15C, July 14th, 2013

“A View From The Ditch on the Jericho Road”

Luke 10:25-37

²⁵Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” ²⁷He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” ²⁸And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”

²⁹But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

³⁰Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. ³¹Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. ³²So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. ³⁴He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. ³⁵The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’

³⁶Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” ³⁷He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

This week I watched a video in which the actor Dustin Hoffman talked about his preparation for the movie, “Tootsie.”  In the 1982 movie Hoffman plays a male actor who can’t get a job until he transforms himself into a woman named Dorothy Michaels and gets a role as a female character on a soap opera.  In the video, Hoffman discusses how before agreeing to do the movie, he insisted that the producers show him how he could be convincingly transformed into a woman.  Hoffman wanted to make sure that the makeup artists could so transform his appearance that he could walk down the streets of New York and everyone would believe he was a woman and not a man in drag.

Well, the make up artists did their work and then shot footage to show Hoffman what he would look like playing the character of Dorothy Michaels.  Hoffman looked at himself on film and said, “Well, I do look like a woman.  But couldn’t you make me a little more – well – beautiful?”  The makeup people assured him that what they had done their best and Hoffman was as “beautiful” as he was going to get.

For Hoffman, it was a moment of deep understanding.  He realized that if he had been born a woman instead of a man, the way he appeared as Dorothy Michaels was what he would look like.  And that woman he saw on film was not beautiful, at least by normal standards.  In fact, Hoffman realized that the woman he saw on the screen was the kind of woman he had ignored all his life. 

Hoffman realized how much he had missed in his life because he had ignored some women simply because they were unattractive, although they might have been really interesting people.  Hoffman said that the movie, “Tootsie” was never a comedy for him after that.  He realized how deeply steeped he had been in society’s conventions of what makes a woman worthy of attention.  And the missed opportunities to know some extraordinary women saddened him.

We always say that outward appearances don’t matter, right?  We teach our children that it’s what’s on the inside that counts. But we know that’s not really true.  Just look at all the conventionally beautiful people on the front cover of the magazines next to the check out counter at the Giant Eagle. 

We say that we do not discriminate against people of color anymore.  But we know that’s not really true.  Just spend a few minutes listening to the commentary about the Trevon Martin case in Florida or check in to the uproar surrounding Paula Deen’s employment practices. 

We say that we will not tolerate bullying in our schools.  But we know that’s not really true.  Just ask the parents of a gay child or an autistic child or a fat child or the parents of any child whose appearance or mannerisms fall outside the standard definition of “normal.” 

As Christians, we say that we love our neighbors just as much as we love God and ourselves.  But we know we really don’t love everyone like that.  Just ask the people who live under the I-579 bridge on the north side who are being thrown out because the people who drive by their makeshift encampment don’t like looking at homeless people on their commute to the suburbs.

And all of us know the right thing.  We know it’s the right thing to not judge people by their appearance.  We know it’s the right thing to pass legislation to outlaw discrimination based upon the color of someone’s skin.  We know it’s the right thing to have rules in schools so that children are safe from being bullied to the point of deciding that suicide is the only way out.  We know it’s right to protect people who are homeless due to mental illness or addiction or just plain bad luck.  We know the Ten Commandments and we know the Apostle’s Creed, and some of us can recite the books of the Bible and the names of the disciples.  And there’s even at least one person here who knows how to go to seminary and pass ordination exams and become a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church USA.

But there’s often quite a large gulf between our beliefs and our actions.  In this text today, it is clear that Jesus is on to us – all of us who say the right things, but act quite differently.  All of us know the right answer to the question the lawyer asks Jesus – “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  Jesus knows that the lawyer will come up with the correct legal response. 

The lawyer knows the right answer because he is an expert on the law of Moses. The words roll right off his tongue:  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and your neighbor as yourself.”  “Bully for you,” says Jesus.  “You have given the right answer.”  And with that, Jesus seems pretty much finished with this particular conversation.

But the lawyer can’t quit while he is ahead.  He goes on to ask Jesus:  “Who is my neighbor?”  And with that question, the lawyer gets tangled up and blue with Jesus. The lawyer wanted Jesus to give him a list of the right kind of people to love and hang out with at parties.  The lawyer wants to know whom he should love and whom he can safely ignore. 

But, unfortunately for the lawyer, neighbor-loving isn’t reducible to a list that you can post on your refrigerator.  In fact our list of neighbors to love includes everyone.  Even the people that nobody else notices.  Maybe especially the people that nobody else notices.  The ugly.  The unwashed.  The profane kind of people who use offensive words that grate on us. The smelly ones who could use a shower. The ugly girl standing against the wall at the party who wishes she could disappear.  The fat lady coming home on the bus with a grocery bag full of Doritos, trying her best to ignore her two sticky whiny children who are getting on your last nerve.  Our neighbor is everyone that Jesus loves and since as far as I can tell Jesus loves pretty everyone, the lawyer’s goose is cooked the minute the question comes out of his mouth. 

In the gospels, Jesus is really good at noticing people that everyone else is ready to blow right by or pretend they don’t see.  Have you ever noticed Jesus doing that?  Like all the time?  How Jesus spends a lot of time and energy on the people to which nobody else pays the least little bit of attention? 

Leave it to Jesus – he always ends up with the oddballs -- the scraggly kid with the runny nose in the corner of the room, that little hussy at the well who has slept with every low-life in town, the obnoxious IRS agent perched up in a tree, the bleeding woman in a massive crowd.  Jesus sees people that everyone else wishes would just shut up and go away.  Those are the messed up people that Jesus NOTICES.  Over and over again.

Let’s look again at how Jesus defines “neighbor” for the lawyer.  You know this story.  There is a man, an ordinary Jewish man, traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho.  He is attacked and left for dead by a band of robbers.  The bleeding, injured, beaten Jewish man is lying in a ditch on the side of the road.  Three men pass by.  First a priest.  Then a Levite.  And then a Samaritan.  The priest and the Levite are respected religious figures associated with the Jerusalem temple.   They are the good guys in the Jewish religious culture.  They are the ones in charge and keep things in the temple running pretty smoothly. 

The reason isn’t given, but neither the priest nor the Levite stop to help their beaten up brother.  Perhaps they are having a really busy day.  Perhaps they are on their way to an official function in Jerusalem, maybe a Presbytery meeting or a groundbreaking for a new education wing.  Maybe they are just plain too scared to stop in a really dangerous neighborhood. 

But luckily for the guy who is bleeding to death in the ditch, a third man comes along.  He is a Samaritan who has somehow ended up in a neighborhood he doesn’t belong on a road he probably never uses.  He is a Samaritan – a member of a group loathed by the Jewish people and the same people who refused to extend hospitality to Jesus and the disciples just a few chapters earlier.  The disciples listening to this parable must be thoroughly disgusted when hear a reference to the Samaritans.  Remember that these are the people that James and John wanted to rain down fire on.   No, not those guys, Jesus!

I can imagine them all – the disciples, the lawyer, the people around Jesus listening to a story about a Samaritan and waiting for Jesus to get to the punch line. “And after the Samaritan did all that – the bandaging and the pouring and the carrying him to an inn and paying for his room, and telling the innkeeper to take care of him and put it on the Samaritan’s bill.  After all that…the Samaritan robbed the innkeeper and raped the innkeeper’s wife and set the whole place on fire.”  In their fevered imaginations about those bad, bad Samaritans, the folks around Jesus could barely expect that the Samaritan would turn out to be the hero of the story. 

But he was.  And I bet that made the lawyer crazy.  All he had done was ask a simple question about who is and isn’t a neighbor, and he gets this terrible story that makes the temple leaders look awful and, worst of all, the stupid, stinky Samaritan is the hero.  In fact, when Jesus asks him, “Which of these three was the neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” the lawyer can’t even spit out the word.  The lawyer can’t bring himself to say, “Samaritan.”  Yet at the end of the story, what does Jesus say?  Jesus tells the lawyer to go and be like the Samaritan if the lawyer wants to inherit eternal life.  And the lawyer probably went off thinking that he’d rather be dead in a ditch than get anywhere near a Samaritan.

Or maybe not.  I don’t know.  Tell me this -- if you were beaten up and stuck in a ditch, who would be last person in the world you’d want to help you?  What Jesus seems to be saying is that’s the person you need to love.  The person who gives you the heebie-jeebies.   Maybe even a kid wearing a hoodie and baggy pants and carrying a bag of Skittles. That’s your neighbor right there. 

Jesus had a habit of noticing and hanging out with the “the last person you’d want to see in a dark alley on a dark night in a bad neighborhood” kind of people.  And this story suggests, at least to me, that Jesus didn’t notice those people because they were necessarily more messed up than other kinds of people.  Or because they needed healing any more desperately than your average stockbroker or Presbyterian minister.  

I think Jesus noticed those messed up people because they are the kind of people that come through in a pinch.  They are the kind of people who were as generous with their hearts as they were with good stories and food and wine when Jesus was staying in their homes.  They are the kind of people who believe that stopping to help someone change a tire on the side of the road is more important than being on time to a meeting. They are the kind of people who would remind you that it wouldn’t kill you to say a kind word to the sweaty fat lady on the seat across from you on a PAT bus on a hot afternoon who is just about to lose her mind with her whining kids.  Maybe you could even tell her that her little girl is beautiful even if it’s not entirely true. 

There’s a quote I have on a collage in my office.  I only recently found out that John Steinbeck said it…but it goes like this:

"If you're in trouble, or hurt or need -- go to the poor people. They're the only ones that'll help -- the only ones." 

Maybe God’s preferential treatment of the poor has less to do with what we should do for them, and more to do with what messed up people have to teach us about mercy and generosity and grace.  Maybe – just maybe --  ­we are the ones in need of rescue and God sends us people we don’t want to deal with to remind us that God’s love is shockingly radical.  Maybe we are the guy who has been beaten up, robbed and left bleeding on the side of the road? Perhaps it is in relationship with the stranger, the outsider or the one we fear that we will be lifted out of the ditch and healed, fed and loved?

The good news of the gospel is that we are not left alone in a ditch.  The One who seeks us out may be unrecognizable to us at first when he or she peeks in to see if we need help.  But in the gestures of kindness, compassion and mercy, we may realize that we are looking right into the eyes of Christ in face of a stranger who is the last person on earth we’d want to see. 

And you know what’s even more amazing?  We have countless opportunities, every single day in ordinary mundane moments – to be Christ for someone else.  Even a stinky Samaritan on a hot bus in the middle of the summer. 

Thanks be to God.  Amen.