Belong, Believe, Become

Proper 23b: 

Job 23:1-9, 16-17
Psalm 22:1-15
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31

Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?

First question: what is meant by eternal life?  We know this doesn’t mean living forever in the bodies we now have.

Jesus shows us that eternal life is having an intimate and personal relationship with God---this Triune God of three persons: Creator, redeemer and sanctifier.  God is the stream of eternity—the One who has always been, is now, and will be forever.  Eternal life can only be found in this stream of the divine---trusting that God is the One who made us, the One to whom we belong, the One who rescues us from our brokenness and the One who can restore and make us holy so that we are equipped to join the never-ending dance of the Blessed Trinity, so that we are able to dive deeply into eternal life.

Teacher, what must I do to inherit?  Notice the question isn’t: “What must I do to earn?”  We cannot earn eternal life.  This isn’t a matter of earning enough gold stickers or amassing a bigger lists of things we have done right versus things we have done wrong.  Inheritance is something given, usually from one family member to the next, passed down generation to generation.  Inheritance is about belonging to a family.  Eternal life, then, begins with belonging.

How do we help others know that they belong?  They belong to God, they belong to us, we belong to them, that we are one big family of belonging?  How do we come to know and believe this ourselves?  For me, it started with coming to church on Sunday morning.  Even as a child, I knew I belonged to my faith community.  One: because my parents told me I did---and then, when I went to church, those in the faith community showed me I belonged.  They knew my name; they looked after me, took interest in my life, treated me like family, taught me, listened to me, corrected me, spent time with me, they loved me.  Of course, some of them loved me better than others.  Like in any family, some of them ignored me or only tolerated me---but I knew I belonged.  I grew up with these rituals and church spaces---and they have always been safe places for me---so church for me has always equaled belonging.

We know how to do this.  We know how to make people like me feel as if they belong.

But what about people who didn’t grow up with these rituals?  Who didn’t grow up going to church spaces? Or those who did and were taught things they can no longer believe? Or those who were hurt by their faith families?  Who were told they weren’t good enough? That they were not worthy in God’s eyes---because let’s face it, church has told many people that God is not interested in them as they are---that somehow their sin is worse and smellier and uglier than anyone else’s so they better clean up their act if they want to belong at church.

Or what about those who simply grew up with other ways of being church?  Who didn’t use books and hymnals and kneel and cross themselves?  Who didn’t say the same words every Sunday or use an organ or meet in beautiful places with dark wood and stained glass and lots of items that are beautiful, and yet, can be intimidating?  What about them?

How do we help these people to know they too belong?  Should we simply tell them, if you want to belong here all you need to do is be like us?  Is that what belonging means? Do they need to start with Sunday morning in order to belong?  Can people belong if they show up at a potluck or a social gathering?  If they come to a steak fry or a craft show?  How do we express our belief that we belong to one another if they come for a community discussion, to seek some help in a time of need or simply because they were walking by and wondered?

If inheritance first means belonging to a family---how did we come to know we belong and how do we help others know?  How do we remind one another that we belong---even when there are bumpy patches and disagreements, tension and differences of belief?  Whose job is it to remind one another that “Hey:  I know you are finding it tough right now, but we belong to one another?”  What might that look like?

And, of course, if eternal life is having a personal, intimate relationship with God, how do we help people to know God---to believe in God---to explore and meet God?  How is God revealed in the midst of us?  Can it be through more than worship?  Can it be through fellowship, through dinners and conversations, through studies and questions, through prayer disciplines and serving others?  Can it be done in other spaces---places other than church---in homes, in restaurants, in bars and coffee shops? And if it can, how committed are we to taking part in these things?  Do we as a faith family want to put in the time and investment it takes to know God, to help others know God---do we want to risk what it might mean to be known by God?  How do we open ourselves to God?  How do we make it safe enough for others to open themselves to God with us? 

As a child, people told me what to believe, and if I could express what I believed (which had been told to me), then I belonged.  That’s not the way it works anymore.  At least for most of us.  And it is not the way that Today’s Gospel is implying it should work.

Inheritance = belonging.  Belonging means we find ourselves within a community who can help us to believe, but we need not believe before we belong.  As seen in Job and throughout Scripture, believing often comes with questioning, with struggling, with poking and prodding what we have been told to believe.  Believing isn’t a one-stop shop kind of thing; it is a never-ending process of growth.

From the belonging and from the believing, we are empowered to become. The desire to even want to become grows within us. To become who God dreamed us to be---human beings made in the image of God.  Human beings who shine with the light of Christ, human beings who love with the compassion and mercy of Jesus, human beings all bound together in the web of grace knit by the Almighty Creator who from the dark chaos made all that there is so that the Creator might know and be known by Creation.

Belong, believe, become.

The rich young man’s question to Jesus is really two-fold: Why am I here and how can I live that why?  This question from the Good News of Jesus Christ is the question the church must answer for itself today---the world-wide church, the denominational church, the church Diocesan, and this church called Intercession: Why are we here and how can we live that out?

Integrity and Justice: Sunday, October 4

Proper 22b:

Job 1:1, 2:1-10; Psalm 26; Hebrew 1:1-5, 2:5-12; Mark 10: 2-16

“As for me, I will live with integrity,” the Psalmist proclaims.

What does it mean for Christians to live with integrity?  What might that look like?

The word integrity comes from the verb “to integrate.”  One way the dictionary defines “to integrate” is:

·      to combine one thing with another so they become a whole

Today’s reading from the letter to the Hebrews tells us “Jesus is the exact imprint of God’s very being, the reflection of God’s glory,” and yet the nativity and crucifixion stories in the Gospels makes it clear that Jesus is also a man. Jesus is fully human, and yet, fully divine, and for him there is no separation of the two.  Two entities that come together to make one whole.  Integrity. 

Through the gift of Jesus, God shows what it means to have integrity as a human being; it means we are to live like Jesus, to love like Jesus, to be like Jesus.  Jesus is the embodiment of human integrity.

In the book of Job, it is hard to deny that one truth spelled out is that God allows bad things to happen to good people.  God doesn’t cause bad things, but God does allow bad things to happen.  That is a truth in this life that is pretty impossible to deny.  Human integrity here is Job’s reaction.  Job refuses to stop believing that God’s plan for him is better than any plan he can make for himself.  Job never stops trusting that God is with him, God is for him, and God sustains him.  This is what human integrity looks like when we are faced with the brokenness of life in this wordly Kingdom.

Human integrity also means displaying God’s justice. In Jesus’ time, marriage wasn’t about love as it mostly is in our culture.  We have to understand it a bit differently here.  Marriage was about two families and their property, their status, and honor.  Divorce wrecked havoc on these things; it was about more than the two who were once-married.  Many suffered.

And the one who stood to suffer the most was the wife.  Only men could demand a divorce.  Women were property. So if the man was not satisfied with his wife for any variety of reasons, he could ask for a divorce.  Doing this put the woman at a great disadvantage.  Her husband was her entire security.  If she had no family available who could or would take her back into their home, she was left homeless with no means to take care of herself.  Jesus’ prohibition of divorce, then, is a justice statement

Jesus is declaring that no one in God’s Kingdom should be placed in a position of homelessness, of not knowing where to get the next meal, no one should be left to feel as if one is not worthy of having security.  Having integrity means making God’s justice our justice.

A second definition of the verb “to integrate” is “to bring people or groups with particular characteristics or needs into equal participation.” 

Today we read about an event in the Gospel that is probably much like our worship service this morning---people coming to see and know Jesus.  Men, women, and children are gathering. Like women, children at this time were also property---and fairly useless property when they were young.  They had no status, no power or authority, no importance, no voice.  The disciples, of course, were trying to keep this gathering of people coming to see and know Jesus “appropriate” as they saw it.  And that meant, no kids!  “No, no,” we can hear the disciples saying, ”take those children out of here.  Everything has to be just so---everyone who comes to see Jesus must be just so.  This is Jesus we’re talking about, after all.  Do you think just anyone can show up?”

Jesus loves those disciples, but Jesus simply will not stand for it.  Jesus says no to the disciples’ idea of who and what is appropriate for worship and continues to knock down all the barriers between him and any and all people.

Jesus demands integrity: “bringing people with particular characteristics or needs into equal participation.”  Without integration, without integrity, God’s justice is not present.

God’s Kingdom is a reflection of God’s character, God’s glory.  God’s Kingdom is meant to look like Jesus---where all are welcome, all are equally worthy of having enough, all are able to participate and share at the meal.

Integrity is an incredibly hard thing for us to live out as disciples.  The messiness of life and of our humanity gets in the way.  But there is a time and a space when and where we can intentionally live with integrity.

Here, at worship.  Here, in this space we refer to as God’s house.  Here, when we gather as those who know, love and follow Jesus.  Jesus says no to the disciples when they try to manufacture the perfect gathering of people who come to see and know Jesus.  Jesus says no because worship is God’s thanksgiving party and God’s guest list may not look like we imagine. At the top of God’s guest list are the ones without status, the ones without import, the ones without authority, the ones without security.

We might not like to recognize it, but we are the privileged.  Even when I was a young single parent on welfare, I was still privileged.  I lived in a social context that thought I deserved food, shelter, and healthcare---even when I couldn’t provide it for myself and my child.  I am white.  I am educated.  I have the opportunity to take advantage of a free education---up to a certain level, at least.  I am privileged.  Most of us here are privileged.  The privileged are not at the top of God’s guest list. (Doesn’t that just knock us on our backsides!)  In fact, those of us who already know God, who have already confessed and live with Jesus as our Lord and Savior, I don’t think we are down on the list as guests at all.  I think we are called to be the servants at this shindig of God’s.

We are the ones called to open the doors to the party; called to prepare the space, get ready the meal and welcome the guests. 

Worship isn’t about us.  Worship isn’t for us.  Worship isn’t meant to fulfill our private and personal prayer needs or quiet time or contemplation.  We are meant to set aside other time for that.

Worship is liturgy---the work of the people for a public good.  Liturgy is our work, with God as the Host of the Table, but for the benefit of others.  God’s benefit, first and foremost: Giving thanks and praise to God. And as we gather, God’s presence is made manifest, so that the guests might see, smell, taste, and know that God is good.

Our gathering as people of God is meant to give all humanity, all of Creation, a glimpse of another reality, another possibility, another Kingdom.  A Kingdom where all are brought into equal participation because all are gifted, all are worthy, all are beloved, all are welcomed.

This is what it means to live with integrity; this is God’s justice.  Instead of texting on our phones or posting a Facebook meme with #all lives matter----let’s live it.  Instead of lamenting another massacre of gun violence happening, let’s demand a change to the systems and structures that allow these atrocious acts to continue to happen.

The Good News of Jesus Christ declares, demands and demonstrates: Those considered as non-essential by our society’s standards are not to be kept out of God’s thanksgiving feast---out of God’s movements toward justice and mercy---out of God’s holy gathering of misfits---the poor, the rich, the young, the old, the broken, the advantaged, the male, the female and all those in-between. 

Beloved, the Truth is: We cannot be made whole without them.