Sunday, March 22: We want to see Jesus

A few weeks ago, Murray and I went to an exhibit at UW-Madison’s art museum.  It was an exhibit of the beautifully illuminated St. John’s Bible.  This Bible is impeccably handprinted in calligraphy on vellum, with artwork interspersed throughout the manuscript.  Thousands of hours have gone into its making.  It is gorgeous.  And moving.  And inspiring.  And it has the ability to be one of those “thin places” where humanity and divinity meet.

In the museum, the selections of this Bible are set up much like other art exhibits---along the walls are cases with pages underneath glass.  The middle of the rooms are empty, except for some benches upon which one may sit, and all the art is along the edges of the space.  This provides for a few different ways to “see” the exhibit.

As a viewer who isn’t really that invested, one could stand in the center of the room, or sit on one of the benches, leaving space between you and the art, and simply view from afar.  It would be a quick way to view the entirety of the exhibit, but one wouldn’t be able to see much detail---just an overview.  Probably enough to be able to recognize the piece if you happened to see it again, but far less chance of actually being inspired or moved by the work.  Quick, painless, and basically non-affective.

Or, as I saw one or two people doing, you could enter the exhibit and get closer to the cases, but move along at a fairly rapid pace.  Glimpsing into each case, perhaps picking up a detail or two, catching a spark of the inspiration that created these masterpieces, but also getting done swiftly.  “Walk-by” viewing, if you will.

Both of these strategies for viewing the exhibit would enable one to claim that he or she had “seen” the exhibit, but neither of these strategies allows for engaging with the artwork or for the images to transform understanding or inspire the viewer.

There is another strategy: one could do what we did and invest in the undertaking.  We went there to see this exhibit---to see it.  We stopped and spent time at each case---trying to grasp what was there---really see it and question and wonder why the colors were chosen or the images.  We read the blurbs on the side explaining each page.  I soaked up the Hebrew that was within the text, drinking in the beauty and love spilled upon each page.  Great art is an icon---letting us see through the image into the truth or the reality behind the image.  One must give icons time to open as we gaze upon them.  Patience is required.  Time is required.  Effort is required.  One must be willing to allow for some vulnerability—openness—to let the art “speak.”

The Greeks in today’s Gospel walk up to Phillip and say: “We want to see Jesus.”

We want to see Jesus.  I wonder if they know what they are asking.  To see Jesus is to see God revealed.  Maybe they simply mean that they want to stand at a distance, like the art viewers in the middle of the room, and watch Jesus from afar.  Not getting too close.  After all, when we get close to God, the reality is not only will we see God’s revelation, but we will be revealed before God.  Danger, Will Robinson, danger.  Do we really want to reveal ourselves to the Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier?  After all, is it going to be safe to show our true selves to the Almighty---to expose our tender hearts and flesh to God’s creative fire?

Maybe these Greeks are thinking---“We’ll stand here and you bring Jesus over there and we’ll take a looksee---a safe inspection from a distance---dabble, if you will, at this invitation to come and follow, come and see.  This way, the effects of standing in the presence of such love and light will be limited…..and controlled by me.”

Or, maybe they were a bit more adventurous.  Maybe they were like those who quickly walk past the exhibit; they intend to get up close, but not for long.  Still just testing the waters.  “Show me this Jesus,” perhaps they are thinking, “and I’ll give him a brief jot of my time.  I’ll let him come near---but, just for a bit.  A moment.  Don’t want to take too many risks here.  After all, this is my life we are considering letting this Savior, this Messiah, influence.  Gotta keep some control on this.”

Or, perhaps, these are bold and courageous Greeks.  Maybe they are willing to make themselves vulnerable to this Christ.  Willing to bring the entirety of their lives before this Jesus and stand within inches of God’s consuming love and let it soften their hearts, change their perspectives, enlargen their vistas, and break open their worlds, their lives, their being.

God doesn’t invite us to be acquaintances.  God deeply desires to be an intimate lover.  A lover of the entirety of who we are---right now---with all our warts and wounds and messy bits.  God yearns for us to be fully invested in this relationship with the divine.  To draw close and see, taste, and touch the details of the revelation of God in Jesus.

Jesus--who is revealed in our gathering together---we living members of the Body of Christ.  As we come together and look into each other’s eyes, the imago dei—the image of God—looks back at us through our neighbor’s eyes.  We gather in the Lord’s Name because it is that Name which is the foundation of our truest identity—marked as Christ’s own forever.

And marked as Christ’s own, Jesus is further known to us when we take our part in his ongoing ministry to the world: when we serve, when we give, when we welcome in the stranger, the outcast, and the marginalized.  By doing the work of Christ, serving our brothers and sisters, we come to a richer and deeper relationship with Christ---seeing more clearly this Savior and Lord of ours by being his hands, his feet.

As we break open Scripture and hear, read, mark and inwardly digest the living Word, Jesus is revealed—a long drink of water to quench our thirst of longing, and we draw closer.  It’s not so much that we analyze the text, but that we make ourselves available so that the text can analyze us.

And we partake in the sacraments---these conduits of the Holy Spirit---as St. Ambrose said, the sacraments are where we meet Christ face to face.  As we come to the table, as we participate in Baptism, as we receive oil for anointing, the distance between us and God, that is created by our everyday living, is decreased.  

If we take notice, we can feel the breath of God on our faces---blowing in new life.  We can taste the lifeblood of Jesus on our lips, hear the lovewords of God in the whispers of prayer and Scripture.  We can feel the pulse of Jesus’ heartbeat as we share the Peace and stand near our neighbor.

This is no casual observance.  This is no walk-by viewing.  This is intimate connection with God who desires us with an all-encompassing, life-changing, mind-blowing love.  A God who has shown us that pain and suffering need not defeat us nor end us.  New life is possible. Do not miss out on what it is we are really doing and experiencing here.  What we participate in each week---this love feast that is the Eucharist.

The mystic and theologian Hildegard of Bingen wrote: "With my mouth," God says, "I kiss my own chosen creation. I uniquely, lovingly, embrace every image I have made out of the earth’s clay. With a fiery spirit I transform it into a body to serve all the world."

We want to see Jesus.  Do we understand this request?  What it means?  What it requires of us? Episcopal priest Robert Hendrickson writes, "A life of rigor in prayer, service, and community is not about acts of willpower or the strength to assert the firmness of our will, but of the willingness and the faith to surrender to the Holy Spirit."

Friends, we are not called to bring Jesus into our lives.  We are called to bring our life into Jesus' life.

May we be bold enough to draw near.  Courageous enough to see and be seen.  Let us surrender and be changed, transformed, shaped into our truest selves.  May God’s consuming fire have its way with us that we might burn brightly for all the world to see and know and be drawn to the love of Christ.  May God’s Kingdom Come.

March 8: The gift of free will

Lent 3 b

Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2:13-22

A scientist approaches God, and says to Him, "Look, God, we don't need you anymore.  Nowadays, we can do all sorts of things that used to be considered miraculous.  We can transplant organs, giving new life to a dying man, we can cure almost any disease, and we can even clone animals.  It won't be long, and we'll be able to clone humans, too.  So, I'm sorry, but you are just outdated".

     God listens patiently to the scientist and says, "I can see that you believe you don't need me, and I understand.  However, I love you, and I don't want to see you make a big mistake, so why don't we make sure?  I say we should have a man-making contest, just to be sure."

     The scientist replies, "I'll take that challenge". 

    So, God says, "Ok, let's do it the way I did it in the old days, with Adam and Eve".  The scientist says, "No problem", and reaches down to scoop up a handful of dirt.

     "Whoa, hold on there a minute", God says.  "You get your OWN dirt".

Yep, this is our story, isn’t it?  We believe we can do it on our own.  So certain that we have things all figured out with our wondrous gift of reason.  Too often thinking:  Commandments?  We don’t need no stinkin’ commandments!

The 10 commandments are God’s gift to us.  They are not a set of restrictions to constrict us, but the gift of knowing how to live in a Way that is meant to free us.  This Way of living that is the only Way to bring about prosperity and flourishing for all of Creation.  This Way that is reflected in so many faith traditions. It is a Way of living that is not self-centered, but other centered.  God’s commands tell us how we are to be with the Other—the Holy other—God—and how we are to live and be with God’s people.  Our Lord Jesus came to model this way for us---to show us what it looks like and to help us see that it is possible, with the Holy Spirit, to live as God would have us live with true freedom from fear, anxiety, worry, and hopelessness.

Somewhere along the way, people got lost from the Way.  We changed the 10 best ways of living—these other-centered ways of being—into a completely self-centered way.  We turned worship and praise into participating in a very rigid set of rituals—sacrifices---that didn’t change hearts or minds or transform God’s people.  Instead of coming to the Temple to thank God, we came for our own benefit.

Sacrifice became: “This is how I save myself.  Sacrifice is how I keep God happy so God will continue to bless me.”  Sacrifice, for the merchants, became “this is how I get rich.”  The system had become all about the self.  And Jesus is not happy.

Jesus comes to the temple, sees what is happening, and loses it just a bit. The people gathered must have thought:  “What is this guy doing? We are only doing what God has commanded of us, right?  We are simply following the Holy Way!”  But, Jesus's actions make it clear: the people are going the wrong Way. Jesus is not simply upsetting tables; Jesus is upsetting an entire system.  

Exactly why God gave us Jesus to begin with---to show us where we have misstepped—to remind us of the Way and to show us how to live the Way.  Notice there is still suffering, still pain, still denial, still hard work for Jesus—being the Son of God doesn’t grant him immunity from the stuff of life.  But, Jesus walks through the stuff of life with grace, mercy and forgiveness—a much different way than most of us know or display.

Friends, there are many openings and avenues one can enter in order to get a grasp on how to live the Way—how to live the 10 commandments which Jesus sums up in the 2 great love commands, but today, I want to focus on one avenue that is presented in Psalm 19:

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my
heart be acceptable in your sight, *
O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.

Some of us are participating in a discussion about Embracing Forgiveness with Episcopal priest Barbara Cawthorne Crafton. Mother Barbara says that each person is made up of a trinity: The trinity of feeling, reason, and will.  For the Hebrews, this would sum up their understanding of the heart. One’s heart isn’t simply from where feelings come.  The heart is the seat of thinking (or reason), feeling, and making decisions.  This same Trinity about which Mother Barbara talks.

So, what does that mean for us as we apply this understanding of heart—this trinity of feeling, reason and will---to the Psalmist’s prayer?

The words of my mouth: those utterances that can lift someone up or cast a person down to the ground.  Words, as we all know, can be agents of healing and binding or they can be weapons of mass destruction.  God makes it clear—through the Word and through Jesus’ example—that words should be used to build up, not tear down.  Words should be used to connect, not divide; to cast light, not throw others into shadow.  

If we are simply to be led by our feelings, then when we feel loving toward someone, our words will be loving.  But, when we feel anger or pain, our words will be arrows of anger and pain. Trusting our feelings to direct our words is not faithful to the Way. We need to push the pause/stop button before we speak instead of letting our words fly out of our mouths. Followers of the Way are to choose our words based on what we know to be according to God’s will—choose words of building up and binding, of healing and restoring—even when our feelings do not match that intent.

Our meditations and our thoughts , the Psalmist prays, are to be acceptable to God—that one’s words and thoughts line up with God’s character and God’s work in the world.  God’s character and vision are the litmus test for what we will speak and think, not our feelings or reactions. For us Christians, this would mean that our words and thoughts are to look and imitate Jesus.  Jesus, who speaks words of compassion, mercy, forgiveness.  Jesus whose thoughts are directed in love toward the redemption of all of Creation.  Jesus whose Way is to draw in the outsider and include the marginalized.  Jesus who speaks and moves from a well of prayer and connection to God.

This means, for us, a turning away from the world.  A turning away from thinking it’s acceptable to shout out hateful words when you’ve been wronged.  The way of thinking that says: You have every right to become irritated and curse out that slow driver in front of you so you will have to add 12.3 seconds to your travel. We are to turn from the world that tells us we must prove we are right, even at the cost of completely decimating the opponent.  The world that tells us there are always victors and losers, and if you don’t react quickly, you’ll be the loser.

What we are talking about here, friends, is instead of reacting from our emotions, we are to learn and discipline ourselves to respond from our will, shaped by God’s will, and not simply from whatever we feel in the moment.  And the beautiful thing is:  the more and more we do this---learn to respond from our will instead of react from our feelings--- then our emotions will follow.  Moving in this other worldly direction will reshape our hearts and minds.  Even our reactions will, slowly but surely, be transformed. 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my
heart be acceptable in your sight, *
O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.

Beloved, I do not believe that in the moment we can stop ourselves from feeling anger or frustration or woundedness. 

We can’t stop anger, but we can choose not to act on it.  

We can’t stop fear or anxiety bubbling up, but we can choose not to move from them.  

We can’t make ourselves love someone, but we can choose to act out of love.  

We can’t make ourselves feel forgiving, but we can choose to forgive anyway.

We can choose the Way.  Lord, feel us with your grace that we may flow from your love.  Amen.

God's Audacious Promise: Sunday, March 1

Lent 2 B

I was a high school English and Theatre teacher for 17 years.  I loved teaching.  One of the things I loved the most about teaching was watching the transformation of young people.  They would come into the classroom---some with little to no love for literature and writing or theatre…..and some with tremendous love for the subjects I taught.  It was so joyful and life-giving to watch them, through stories, through writing, through discussions, to become deeper readers and thinkers, better writers and more convincing actors and actresses.

Of course, some refused.  They didn’t like it so they were not going to do it, and that was that.  Frustrating to watch young people refuse growth and opportunity, but the same can be said for adults.  Oh, but when they did grow…and change…and learn….it was just so incredibly inspiring.

One student I had actually started off as simply a student I saw around school; he was not in my classes.  As a freshman he was so shy, he literally walked along the edges of the hallway---making no eye contact with anyone---glued to the lockers as he crept to the next class.  And then, that first summer of his high school career, he auditioned for the summer musical.  Astonishing.  I gave him a small part.  He loved it.  And he came back.  Again and again.  He grew more confident, made friends, and began to walk in the middle of the hallway like everyone else.  He has since graduated high school and college (majoring in theatre) and has a full life.  It was such a gift to watch this transformation unfold---and to know there’s still so much more to come.

It’s kind of like this piece of wood.  At first glance it looks like scrap maybe.  At best, a doorstop.  There are rough edges and dark places, and it seems to have no purpose.  But all it takes is the right eye---the needed vision---to see what it might become.  A beautiful bowl like this, perhaps.  Sure, it still has knots and imperfections, but those knots and imperfections only add to its beauty.  All the block of wood needs is someone with good vision and the right tools and skills to help it be released into its true form----having both beauty and purpose.

That’s what teaching felt like to me.  First and foremost, I had to create a meaningful relationship with my students.  They had to trust me.  Sure, some  trusted me just because I was a teacher---but not as many as you’d think.  Especially not by the time they had reached high school and had been disappointed or hurt by at least one teacher in the past. 

In order for them to give of themselves---to present their thoughts, opinions, and beliefs  in the classroom, in their papers, or on the stage, we had to develop a trust in one another.  Before I could get them to discuss the many benefits of the semi-colon or just exactly what was up with Hamlet, they needed to know that I did indeed have their best interests at heart.  Even when I asked a lot of them.  Especially when I asked a lot of them.  If they thought what I was asking of them was strange or too much or maybe even just boring---they were far more willing to go ahead and do it anyway when they trusted that my main goal was their benefit.

Our relationship with God is like this.  Before we can even believe that there is a better “us” trapped inside of ourselves or that there is more to this life than the rough edges and dark spots, we have to trust the One who Created us.  We have to believe with all our hearts that God really does love us because God is, after all, asking us to put our very lives on the line.  When we look and listen closely, we realize that Jesus is really saying: Be vulnerable.  Give up your lives as you know them, and come follow me…..Come on.  Trust me.

So, first, we must indeed believe and trust that Jesus’ Way is the Way to live for our best benefit.  And then, we must be willing to take up the cross.

For Jesus, the cross was the instrument upon which his humanity died---upon which He sacrificed his life.   It is nothing less for us.  To take up our cross means we are willing to sacrifice those aspects of our humanity, those parts of our lives, which prevent us from being our true selves, our best selves.  This is no light request: Jesus asks us to be willing to let go of beliefs, thoughts, ways of being, which prevent us from being the person God has dreamed us to be.  “Your ways are not my ways and your thoughts not my thoughts,” God tells us through the prophet Isaiah.  If we mean to align our lives up with the Vision of Our Creator, it will require change, transformation, death.

New life always requires death.  Every seed must cast off its shell.  Every flower must die in order for new blossoms to flourish.  The new life and beauty of spring does not happen without fall and winter.  New life needs death.  And if we truly want a new life in Christ, then we must accept death in our lives. 

Lent is a gift---a gift of 40 days to sit in God’s presence.  To be silent.  To listen with the ears of our hearts and reflect on the pathway from which we have arrived and discern----where are my footsteps following God’s dream for me and where do they wander?  What in me---what habits, actions, words, or beliefs,---destroy rather than give life?  Where is my alignment with Christ off the mark? 

Lent is a time to participate in the ongoing, never-ending process of resurrection in our lives---death giving birth to life.  We can only do this when we believe that God does indeed so love us; that God has our greatest benefit as God’s objective.

If you are not there yet, not certain you can say that you believe you are loved this much and this deeply by Our Creator, then I invite you to participate here in the life of Intercession.  We will walk with you---not pushing or shoving, but walking as a companion. Many of us have been where you are, even though we all have our own story that has led us here. Come to worship regularly and let the pattern of breaking open the Word, prayer and sharing the bread in community begin to re-align the rhythm of your heart and mind.  Come and gather with us---all us sinners with a future and all us saints with a past---and take your place among us; we have a place at the table for you.  We want to hear your story.  To know you.  To see you as you truly are.  After all, we do believe that God loves us just as we are…..but God loves us far too much to leave us just as we are.

And if you already know this love and are grounded in this love and have bet your life on this love, then I invite you to spend this season in reflection and discernment.  Shine light onto your dark places and your rough spots as you invite the Creator to come in and re-shape and transfigure you further.  Grant God access into your heart so that the Redeemer can polish the knots and the whorls of your life and transform the imperfections into aspects of beauty.

This, for me, is what discipleship is all about.  Being known, being loved, and being renewed, which springs from the well of life-giving water of knowing God, loving God, and connecting to God.  Connecting to God through others and, through others, being connected to God---this everlasting covenant that is a beautiful web of grace.  This everlasting covenant that requires the audacious faith of Abraham, the surrender of Jesus.

The more you believe this outrageous promise of God’s—that all of us can be renewed and brought into the fullness of life---then the more and more you will experience it, and the more and more you will see it happening. 

This past Friday night, Murray and I were in Madison and I was working out on the treadmill in our hotel---one of the many deaths I must personally experience in order to receive new life----and I saw this incredible story on the news.

It was about a boy’s high school basketball team in Gainesville, Florida.  This team had no fans.  Whenever they played, there was no one to cheer them on.  Their parents were rarely able to come to a game and they had no cheerleaders and no student fan base.  You see, these young men were incarcerated in a juvenile detention center.  If they exhibited exceptionally good behavior, they were allowed to play on the team, and a few times a year, they were able to leave the detention center to play basketball.  They played against private school teams, suiting up against young men who had far more privileges and opportunities than most of these boys could even dream about.

But one such team of privileged young men decided they would not play against a team with no fans.  For them, it was unheard of.  So two members of the team decided to do something about it.  They asked their own fans---about half of the crowd---to cheer and support the Gainesville team.  So, as the Gainesville players came onto the court, they were greeted with a line of fans waiting to high-five them as they took their place on the court.

Throughout the game, this team of young men from Gainesville had cheerleaders with uniforms, fans sitting on their side cheering them on, and every time they scored a basket, the entire gymnasium lit up with hooting and hollering. 

Who won the game?  The journalist said since neither of these two teams really cared who won, why should we, so I cannot tell you that.  What I can tell you is that the Gainesville teammates who were interviewed said that had never felt anything like it---to be cheered on like that, to be encouraged.  One said he would never forget it.  And when the two young men who orchestrated the event were interviewed, one of them said, “ I just thought: Everyone needs cheerleaders; everyone needs to be encouraged and applauded.  All of us need to know that there is someone out there who knows all the mistakes we have made and still loves us and applauds us anyway.”

Now that, my friends, is Gospel.