Sermon: Different Way of Being

 Lectionary: Proper 11(A)

Text: Romans 8:12-25

The brain is a fascinating organ. A Scientific American article on the topic of thinking explains,

The brain continuously slurps up huge amounts of energy for an organ of its size, regardless of whether we are tackling integral calculus or clicking through the week's top 10 LOLcats…

Although the average adult human brain weighs about 1.4 kilograms, only 2 percent of total body weight, it demands 20 percent of our resting metabolic rate (RMR)—the total amount of energy our bodies expend in one very lazy day of no activity.[1]

We might assume then that if thinking consumes energy, more thinking will consume more energy, but the article continues to explain that experiments in this area have shown mixed results.

But I’m sure we all experience those times when we have been concentrating on some kind of complex task for an extended period, and at the end we feel exhausted and fatigued. So, what is a potential explanation for this phenomenon? The article suggests several possibilities. First, concentrating on a task that does not bring pleasure causes more experiential fatigue than concentrating on a similarly complex task, but in which we find pleasure. Second, merely thinking that a task will be difficult or an ordeal can cause more mental exhaustion. And finally, unpleasant and complex tasks can lead to greater stress with corresponding physiological effects such as increased cortisol production, which in turn can manifest as actual physical effects.

The article concludes with one of the interviewees saying, “My general hypothesis is that the brain is a lazy bum… The brain has a hard time staying focused on just one thing for too long. It's possible that sustained concentration creates some changes in the brain that promote avoidance of that state. It could be like a timer that says, 'Okay you're done now.' Maybe the brain just doesn't like to work so hard for so long.”[2]

An application of this hypothesis to our individual experiences is regarding habits. Why is it so difficult to break an old habit and why is it so difficult to establish a new one? Because these take willful, concentrated, mental effort. And the lazy brain would rather keep running on easy, well-worn pathways that can be traversed with much less effort.

At this point you might be wondering what this has to do with any of today’s readings. I think the science of the brain has quite a bit to do with Romans chapters 7 and 8.

In the latter third of chapter 7, Paul describes an inner conflict experienced by those who have joined with Christ. The conflict is between the desire and intention to live a righteous life versus the reality of falling into deeds that are evil. Paul writes, “Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it but sin that dwells within me. So I find it to be a law that, when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.”[3]

However, in the opening paragraphs of chapter 8, Paul describes the solution to this conflict. “For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death… For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”[4]

But old habits do not die easily. It returns, and in Paul’s words, it is like a debt that we feel obligated to pay. The old way of living offers security, certainty, and comfort. The old ways are ingrained in our minds and require little effort. Even though living by the Spirit brings true life and peace, it feels easier to return to the old ways.

In response, Paul writes, “So then, brothers and sisters, we are obligated, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—for if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live… For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if we in fact suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”[5]

A key to interpreting and understanding Paul’s response is the phrase, “Slavery… back into fear.” This is the definition of sin that Paul has in mind throughout his letter to the church in Rome. Fear is what drives humans to seek certainty and stability in the things of the world: power, wealth, acclaim, position and influence. These in turn lead to actions that abuse other humans and the environment. The flesh seeks self-preservation above all else. The desire for more and the fear that what we have is still not enough leads to dehumanization, wars, and destruction of the environment.

To live by the Spirit requires intentional choice and effort. It requires going against the habits and priorities of the world and how that has trained our minds and preferences. It will require us to change our ideas regarding security and stability and where we will find that anchor.

When we live by the Spirit, our focus changes from self-preservation to selfless giving. It seeks to redeem and preserve all life—not just fellow humans but all the creation. This is the life Jesus Christ exemplified, and which resulted in the powers of the world turning against him. It is what caused them to murder him. It revealed sin—the need for self-preservation that underlies all worldly powers and structures.

When we choose to intentionally live this way, we will suffer. We will suffer inner conflict as we seek to retrain the habits that the world has trained us to follow. We will suffer externally as we walk and fight against the accepted ways of the world that prioritize the powerful and their wants over the powerless. When we reject the fear of worldly insecurity and want, the world ceases to have power over us. And when they no longer have power over us, they become frustrated and angry.

But we do not live this way alone. Paul wrote, “But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you… If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.”[6]

Those of us who are redeemed and being redeemed will live in such a way as to extend the hope of redemption and restoration to all the creation. We will strive toward ways of living that bring more harmony and peace among not just fellow humans, but humans with all the environment without which we cannot survive. It is with these thoughts that we re-read chapter 8, verses 18-25,

I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God, for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its enslavement to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning together as it suffers together the pains of labor, and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope, for who hopes for what one already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.[7]

In the name of God, the Creator of all the creation,

In the name of God, the Redeemer of all the creation,

And in the name of God who guides us in our suffering for all the creation, Amen.

References

Jabr, F. (2012, July 18). Does Thinking Really Hard Burn More Calories? Retrieved from Scientific American: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/thinking-hard-calories/

 

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[1] (Jabr, 2012)

[2] Messier, Claude in (Jabr, 2012)

[3] Romans 7:20-23. NRSVue

[4] Romans 8:2, 5-6. NRSVue

[5] Romans 8:12-13, 15-17. NRSVue

[6] Romans 8:9a, 11. NRSVue

[7] Romans 8:18-25. NRSVue

Sermon: Shalom Aleichem

Lectionary Year B, Second Sunday of Easter

Text: John 20:19-31

 

What is peace? What does it mean to have peace?

Today’s gospel reading includes three times where Jesus says, “Peace be with you.” (John 20:19, 21,26) The Hebrew phrase is shalom aleichem and would have been a commonly used greeting. It is at least one of the primary basis to the “passing of the peace” practiced by many Christian churches. Yet the fact that the gospel makes explicit mention of the greeting, not only once but three times, seems to indicate that perhaps there is more to be understood in this ordinary greeting. Perhaps like the bread and wine of the Last Supper, which were common items for a Passover meal and that were given new meaning by Jesus, perhaps “peace be with you” is also imbued with new meaning after the resurrection.

In our common English use, peace primarily means an absence of external conflict. Our culture, in general, values this kind of peace; so much so that resolving conflict is frequently only undertaken in a token manner, or brushed away altogether for the sake of expediency and comfort – most often to accommodate the societal status quo and the systems and structures that benefit from it.

But is this the kind of peace that Jesus gave his disciples? We only need to look back a little earlier in the gospel to read that Jesus’ peace is a different sort of peace. In his words following the Last Supper, Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I give to you not as the world gives. Don’t be troubled or afraid.” (John 14:27)

The peace found in the Roman empire was certainly a kind of absence of conflict, but it was maintained by the threat of force, backed by a capable and willing army. It was a peace maintained through fear. Jesus’ peace is one that does not employ force or fear.

In today’s gospel reading, the disciples are all in some kind of house with the door locked. They are afraid, and for good reason: their master had just been executed by the Romans as a threat to the empire, and by their association to him, they could be on the wanted list also. It is into this room that Jesus miraculously appears. Jesus greets them, and then shows them the scars that he still bears from the crucifixion. It is only then that the disciples find joy.

If we back up one verse from today’s reading, we are informed that Mary Magdalene has told the disciples that she had met the risen Jesus. But this news did not have any effect on the disciples’ fear or faith. Jesus’ initial appearance does not appear to have changed them either. Only when they see the scars on the body of Jesus are their fears replaced by joy. Note too, that in the subsequent Thomas set of texts, he too, hears about Jesus’ appearance to the disciples but hearing about it does not result in belief. Rather, he insists that not only does he need to see the scars, but he needs to touch them: although once Jesus appears and shows Thomas the scars, Thomas is immediately satisfied and believes.

Once the disciples experience a release from their fear, Jesus once more offers his peace and in conjunction, commissions them to be his apostles. He sends them out to do the same works that the Father sent Jesus into the world to do. It is work that generated opposition to it by the political and religious powers of that time. It is work that eventually led to Jesus’ execution. This is the work that Jesus is sending out his disciples to do. It is the work that every generation of Christian is still called by Jesus to do.

Jesus opposed the status quo. Jesus advocated for the underclass, the oppressed, the marginalized. Jesus called out abuses of power. He made a point of inclusion and egalitarianism in his society. Jesus taught and lived out a reversal of traditional notions of power. This got him killed. These practices are what the church is called to continue.

I think we are all too aware that we live in troubled times. We might not live in a war zone, but there is unease, tension, and more and more, open conflict and violence between individuals and societal groups. We may be living in a relatively peaceful time, as peace is often understood. But intuitively we probably know that we are not really living in a peaceful time.

Is the church currently living behind closed doors, in fear, as the disciples were on the very day of Jesus’ resurrection? Are we afraid of what the repercussions might be if we were to genuinely confront and challenge the status quo of the world, its systems, structures, and powers? Have we forgotten what Mary, the mother of Jesus proclaimed in the Magnificat, a portion that reads:

He has shown strength with his arm.

He has scattered those with arrogant thoughts and proud inclinations.

He has pulled the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed.

(Luke 1:51-53) 

Or what Jesus himself read from Isaiah and applied to himself at the beginning of his public ministry? 

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

Because the Lord has anointed me.

He has sent me to preach good news to the poor,

To proclaim release to the prisoners

And recovery of the sight to the blind,

To liberate the oppressed,

And to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

(Luke4:18-19) 

The church was not commissioned to maintain her edifices. The church was never given permission to be part of the empire. The church was not blessed to maintain her own comforts.

Simply proclaiming what we believe is not enough: Mary told the disciples about her experience, but it did not change them. The disciples told Thomas about their encounter with Jesus, but it did not change him.

Simply being present in the world as a community of faith is not enough: Jesus appeared to the disciples and Thomas, but his mere presence did not change them.

What the world needs to witness is a wounded and scarred Christ: only when Jesus reveals the symbols of having battled and emerging victorious do the disciples and Thomas believe.

The Apostle Paul describes the church as the body of Christ in this world (1 Corinthians 12:12-31). Are we as a community of faith, trusting in the peace of Jesus, willing to do the works that Jesus did, to risk being wounded by the world?

What the world needs is not more preaching, more theology, or more churches. What the world needs is more communities that are vulnerable and willing to advocate for and lift the oppressed, the marginalized and the outcasts, and to alleviate the pain and distress of the suffering, to not just minister to these but to include them as full members of our community. Furthermore, the world needs communities to confront the injustices and the abuses that are inflicted by the powerful, and to oppose the systems and structures that permit and perpetuate said abuse.

The power of Jesus’ resurrection is found in his scars. They are the signs that he gave all to accomplish his mission and came out victorious. This is perhaps another reversal to ponder: victory and power is found in Jesus’ wounding. Perhaps it is a lesson that we need to consider more thoughtfully: where are our communities’ wounds and scars that we received as we fought and continue to fight for the dignity and worth of fellow humanity?

The peace given to the church by Jesus is the settled confidence and courage to confront oppression, to correct injustice, and to comfort all who are victims of the caustic priorities of this world. Shalom aleichem! May the peace of Jesus Christ be with us all.

Sermon: “Ghost!” to “Son of God”

Lectionary: Year B, Proper 14

Text: Matthew 14:22-33, (34-36) (Extended the supplied reading to include the epilogue.)

I’m sure most of us have been told at some point that public speaking is most people’s top, or close to the top, fear. There is an actual survey done by Chapman University[1], and in their fifth survey done in 2018, public speaking was not even in the top 50. It ranked number 59. Fear of one’s own death only made it to number 54.

The fears at the top of the list are things that are concerned with government, politics, the environment, the economy, and those things that we tend to encounter more readily and frequently. As a point of interest, pandemic was number 32 down the list two years ago. (I’m curious where that item would land today.)

And, in case you were wondering, the disciples’ fear of ghosts is only number 88 in the 21^st century. This fear might have placed a higher in the first [century]. 

These are turbulent times, indeed, in nearly every aspect of life. There are plenty of potential sources vying for our fears, and it might be easy to let fears overwhelm us. Some might say we shouldn’t fear at all, but fear is an important emotion that alerts us to genuine harm and danger, and we can respond to such fears by taking appropriate actions and precautions. 

Perhaps one of the problems is that when we are bombarded by almost innumerable negative stimuli and stressors, it becomes difficult to sort out and distinguish those things that we ought to respond to appropriately vs. those things that we should not pay attention to. One response might be overreaction in which we try to respond to everything. Another response might be to becomes so anesthetized that we ignore everything, even genuinely harmful ones. 

Jesus had just recently heard the devastating report about the gruesome murder of his cousin, John the Baptist. When Jesus tried to get some time to himself, he was bombarded with a huge crowd that took all of his efforts for the entire day. At the end of the day his disciples presented him with another problem which Jesus had to again take the initiative to provide a solution. 

We have to remind ourselves that Jesus is fully a human being here. He is not operating from his divine essence. Jesus gets tired, he experiences stress, he has enough of being around other people, he has griefs, he feels frustration and anger, and he feels fear. I think that sometimes Christians portray Jesus’ perfection in such a way that these very human emotions get erased. It is good to be reminded that Jesus experienced and struggled with the same emotions that every human being does. 

Jesus sends the disciples away on their boat and he dismisses the crowds. He goes up the mountain to have some time for himself — to spend time in prayer and recharge and restore himself through God. He spends the entire night in prayer. 

An important point for us as we live in our time is to find time to recharge and restore ourselves. Prayer doesn’t look the same for every person. For some it may be literally sitting in prayer. For others it might be meditation outdoors, bathing in the wonders of God’s creation. Others might find things like journaling and writing helpful. How did God wire you to connect back to God? 

Early in the morning, Jesus senses that his disciples are in trouble and goes out to meet them. In the midst of storm and turbulence, with wind blowing and waves crashing, Jesus walks out to them on the water, to approach the disciples in their boat. Metaphorically, Jesus might represent those who have such unequivocal trust in God that they are a picture of solid calm whatever might be outside. They are able to find solid footing, even on what to everyone else is tempestuous water. The ideal picture for which we strive. 

What appears calm and certain, Jesus on the water, is anything but, to the disciples. When they see Jesus, the only explanation they come up with is that it is a ghost. We shouldn’t be too hard on them, since I doubt any of us would have responded too differently if we saw a figure approaching us in the middle of the sea. 

We expect Jesus in certain places and to show up at certain times. A lesson here could be that we might overlook Jesus or misidentify God’s presence in the world because it doesn’t look like what we expect, or they are in places where we don’t expect God’s presence to be found.

Jesus immediately announces his identity to his disciples and assures them that there is no reason for fear. It should be noted that Jesus’ identification of himself, “It is I”, is the “I AM” that Yahweh used to identify himself in Hebrew history. The image of a being walking on water is associated with God and the divine in the Hebrew Scriptures. Perhaps the disciples’ exclamation that what they saw was a ghost was preferable, at least to them, than the alternative, that it was God approaching them. Which could also explain why Jesus was so quick to identify himself and to calm their fears. This was Jesus whom they had been in the company of for quite some time now — someone they should know. Yet very different. 

What I see as one of the key themes in today’s reading is the disciples making a dramatic change in the identification of Jesus: from “It’s a ghost” to “Truly, you are the Son of God.” It should be noted that even though walking on water was dramatic and miraculous, that in itself was not what convinced them. After all, walking on the water made them initially think that Jesus was a ghost. 

What was it then, that caused such a marked shift? 

I believe the answer is found in Peter’s response to this “problem of Jesus.” The problem is that Jesus is familiar to the disciples, yet his present appearance is quite foreign. What are they to make of it? Are the two really the same?

Peter takes the initiative to verify that the being out on the water is really Jesus. Peter’s faith is not in his next act of stepping out of the boat, but in the very asking that he be invited to step out of the boat. Peter trusts that if Jesus commands it, Peter will be able to accomplish it. Jesus commands, and Peter steps out. At least for a short time, Peter’s trust in Jesus overcomes all doubt and fear. 

But as is often the case, initial success is met with strong winds and frightening waves. Yes, Jesus called Peter out of the boat, but is Jesus enough to keep Peter above the water? Notice that the wind and waves do not calm when Peters steps out of the boat and onto the water. Faith falters, doubt creeps in and Peter suddenly starts to sink. 

Peter calls out again, “Lord!” But this time it is not to step out in faith, but to be saved from certain drowning. 

Immediately (that’s a word repeated in this short section describing Jesus’ actions) Jesus appears next to Peter and lifts him up and holds him steady. Together they walk back to and into the boat. The winds cease when they enter the boat. 

It is at this moment that the disciples together identify Jesus as “Son of God.” Throughout Hebrew history, Yahweh has acted to save his people, the Israelites. The center of today’s gospel reading is the saving of Peter. The name Jesus is the Greek rendering of Joshua, meaning Yahweh is salvation. In the saving of Peter, Jesus is acting literally according to his name. Peter asks for salvation, and Jesus responds. 

If it were wonders and miracles that could convince the disciples that Jesus was the Son of God, it surely could have happened before this. If mastery over nature was a sign of divinity, Jesus had already calmed the seas once before [Matthew 8]. 

Up to this point, only Satan and demons had identified Jesus as “Son of God.” But now the disciples have finally seem to have understood, although they still don’t know what that really means. 

This story and the Feeding of the Five Thousand story from last week form a pair. The pair of stories begins with a crowd and healing, and the pair ends with an epilogue that is about a different crowd and some more healing. 

Perhaps I might be reading too much into some of the words used here, but I find it interesting that this latter crowd is said to “recognize” Jesus. The first crowd merely heard that Jesus had gone to a different place and followed. But the crowd at Gennesaret “recognize” Jesus. The healing of the first crowd is just a curing (Gk., related to our word ‘therapy’) of their illnesses. But when the crowd in Gennesaret are healed, the Greek word used here signifies restoration and salvation [sozos]. Where the first crowd merely experienced some physical cures, the crowd at Gennesaret experiences a restoration to wholeness. Perhaps these choices of words are Matthew’s way of showing how much more Jesus is able to offer when we see him as Son of God. 

We should not dismiss the positives that the world has gained from seeing Jesus as a great teacher, a moral and ethical example, a great prophet, and perhaps someone who worked wonders and miracles. But a restoration to wholeness can only come when Jesus goes beyond all that and is recognized as the Son of God, the savior of all humankind and the world. 

To know that Jesus is our savior is the antidote to fears that this life throws at us. Jesus beckons and calls us into the storm, the turbulence, and the crashing waves. That is where ministry happens – in the storms of life. That’s where Jesus is. He knows that our faith will falter and we will begin to sink. But he also promises that he will save us. 

It was just one disciple, Peter, whose faith allowed him to ask Jesus to command him to walk out into the storm. It was Peter’s actions and subsequent saving by Jesus that gave the remaining disciples insight into Jesus and their correct identification of who Jesus was. 

Was Jesus’ words to Peter, “You of little faith; why did you doubt?”, a reprimand as it frequently is interpreted? Or was it an encouragement? “You had enough faith to step out of the boat. Why did you doubt that you could continue? The faith you had to step out was enough to take you through.” 

All it takes is one person with a mustard seed sized faith to step out of the safety of the boat and into the wild uncertainties and storms of life. This one person and one act can inspire others to follow. 

When we are following Jesus to the places where he is asking us to work, we need have no fear of failure, because even if our faith falters, he will be faithful to lift and steady us, bring us back to where we can regroup and recover, and then follow him out again into the storms of this world.

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[1] https://www.chapman.edu/wilkinson/research-centers/babbie-center/_files/fear-2018/americas-top-fears-2018-ranked.pdf

Sermon: Do Not Be Terrified

Gospel Text: Luke 21:5-19

Lectionary: Year C, Proper 28

Weather forecasts, financial market forecasts, interest rate direction forecasts, political polls, sports result predictions: these are a few of the many ways that we try to bring a little certainty into an uncertain world. We might have some vested interest in certain outcomes. Some predictions have better success than others. Some types of things we are interested in predicting are trivial while others have more far-reaching life consequences. 

Our brains are wired to favor certainty. Uncertainties and ambiguities demand more mental energy, and we can only handle so much of that before our psyches are exhausted. When we experience or hear things that unsettle us, our natural inclination is to find the least costly way to resolve the discomfort and return us to a place of certainty and security. 

For Jesus’ disciples, their Temple was heart of their religious, social, and political lives. It was the place where they came to meet and worship God. It was the basis for many or perhaps all of the traditions and rituals governing their social interactions. And it was a symbol of their national identity and unity, even if they were in reality, subjects of Rome. 

When Jesus seemingly off-handedly mentions that the Temple will be utterly destroyed, it is a shock to their understanding of their world. It introduces a threat and uncertainty in their entire view of life that they need resolved. 

Two-thousand years later, from our perspective, it might seem that the destruction of the Temple shouldn’t elicit such a strong emotional response. There really isn’t an equivalent that we might readily identify with. But perhaps suggesting that America and the American way of life will be utterly destroyed by a foreign power, and that all of us will be exiled away, might be a close analogy. If that doesn’t seem like the end of the world, is there anything else that would? Or for some others, being told that their family will be torn away from them, never to be seen again might elicit a similar kind of response. 

Note too, how Luke begins this passage:

21:5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God…

This was not just another building. It was a sacred treasure, dedicated to God. For the Temple to be destroyed as Jesus said would seem to imply a complete abandonment by God.

I think it is with a deep sense of terror and panic that the disciples ask Jesus when this will happen and what signs they should expect leading up to this cataclysmic event. After all, this is Jesus who just spoke of the destruction, and they know he is no ordinary man. He is at least a prophet of God, if not something more. 

It is curious that what Jesus says next seemingly has nothing to do with what his disciples asked. Jesus doesn’t say anything about the when or what, but goes and offers a warning about those who claim to speak in Jesus’ name and claim to have inside knowledge about what is about to happen.

Modern neuroscience has shown that when our brains are affected by fear and threat and when there is a strong emotional reaction, it wants to act instinctively to protect the person. Higher-order thinking and discernment take longer to process, going through a longer path, and it takes effort to suppress the initial, instinctive reactions. And so reasoned decisions takes a back seat to instinctive responses. The brain wants to return as quickly as possible to a safe and comfortable place, and if an easy, inexpensive path is offered, the tendency is to take it. Even if it means the path leads to longer term problems. Even if in hindsight it is a bad choice. Even if it means accepting falsehoods.

Another cognitive pattern research has shown is that the brain assigns greater weight to what it first hears. So perhaps that is why Jesus offers the warning first, before he responds more directly to his disciples’ question. By giving the warning first, it is the strongest piece of information that is associated with the context of the destruction of the Temple. The brain stores memory by context: sight, smell, sounds, and emotion. Jesus’ warning is stored in his disciples’ minds in association with the Temple and the terror and panic associated with its destruction. Whenever the context is recalled in the future, the warning too, will be present as one of the most important pieces of information associated with it. 

The message given by Jesus would then appear to be that when we are faced with something that terrifies us, where we might want to instinctively resort to fight or flight, to give enough time to allow our higher-order reasoning to process the information. “Don’t go after the first person or thing that seems to offer a solution and a way out,” Jesus seems to be saying. Just because something or someone is offering to improve your feeling of comfort and security doesn’t mean they have your best interest in mind. 

Only after this does Jesus begin to speak about some signs. These signs include increasing conflict and violence among nations and peoples; increasing incidents and intensities of natural disasters; and ominous signs and portents in the heavens. But don’t be terrified. And the end is still a ways off. 

But even before all that occurs, his disciples will experience persecution and possibly even death. Friends and family could turn against them. Don’t see this as a calamity, but see it as an opportunity to testify about Christ. And don’t worry about preparing in advance, because Christ will supply the necessary defense that cannot be refuted. 

One way of transforming terror and fear is to reframe it. First, Jesus sets expectations about some of the things that will happen. And then he offers a different way of looking at what initially can be seen as a negative experience. At the heart of Christ’s gospel is that even the greatest evil can be redeemed and transformed. The primary demonstration of this is, of course, Jesus’ death and resurrection, but here Jesus seems to be offering another way in which his disciples can play a part in the grand narrative of redemptive grace. 

We now come to the last two verses for today:

21:18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 

21:19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

How can Jesus say that “not a hair of your head will perish” when he had just also said that some listening may be put to death? I think that the key to understanding this apparent paradox is to go back to the start of today’s passage where Jesus predicted that the Temple would be utterly destroyed. In comparison, those who faithfully endure will be preserved, even beyond physical death. Everything about them will be preserved and restored in the full realization of the kingdom to come. So much so that even the exact number of hair will remain. 

The physical structure of the Temple, where people have given their treasures and dedicated them to God, will be destroyed. Not even one stone will be left on top of another. In stark contrast, the person and being of Jesus’ disciples will be preserved, down to the very last hair. 

It is this knowledge and hope that has sustained the church of Jesus Christ through two millennia of trials and tribulations from both within and without. This is the basis on which individual Christians and communities of faithful have kept their courage when by all appearances, their cause seemed lost.

Fear can be contagious. But so is courage. 

A healthy Christian community is a courageous one. It absorbs the fears and terrors brought by individuals and transmits courage in return. 

When for so many of us, the world seems like a very scary place and getting scarier with each passing day, it is easy to succumb to fear and terror. We might resort to anger. Or maybe depression. Or disassociating. Or any number of unhealthy coping methods. Just to get through another day.

We need hope and courage to replace our fears. Yes, individuals can each ask God for courage. But it seems that the primary task of transmitting hope and courage is given to the body of Christ. Hope and courage are learned by living in community with others who possess them. 

My exhortation and prayer for you this morning is that this church be known as the community where hope and courage vanquishes fear. May we fully live out Jesus’ command to us, “Do not be terrified.”

When you say, "Do not fear"

Copyright: eakachaileesin / 123RF Stock Photo

During times of turmoil, uncertainty, and real and perceived threats, people feel afraid and express their fears. Christians often respond by reminding those in fear that Jesus said, "Do not fear" (or some similar line). While technically biblical and theologically correct, this well-meaning saying misses the praxis of Christianity and has a number of problems.

First, it can be condescending and dismissive. It can show a lack of empathy and and compassion. Too often the statement is made strictly because of biblical and theological concerns. There is no attempt made to understand, listen, and enter into the fears and concerns being expressed. The statement is made from a position of safety and power. Too often the ones making the statement really don't have anything to fear (or have much less to fear) because they aren't directly affected; they have the means to weather the storm.

Second, it can be shaming. Sometimes the statement is made with the implicit accusation that "fear is a sin" (because it goes against Jesus' command). It may be accompanied by statements such as "if you trust God, you don't have to fear" with the implicit corollary, if you do fear, then you aren't trusting God. So not only can "do not fear" be a source of shame, it can lead to even greater fear by introducing doubts about their fidelity to God.

Third, it ignores reality. As already mentioned, it is easy to say "do not fear" by someone who has relatively little to fear. It ignores the reality of those who are afraid. It ignores the reality and truth of experience of a group of people in order to maintain some kind of abstract theological orthodoxy. It ignores the very real pain and emotions of people by telling them that those are not valid. It is offering alternative-facts and trying to get them to accept it.

If you're going to say, "Do not fear," then it needs to be preceded by and accompanied by action. It needs to come from a position of empathy and compassion. It needs to come after entering into the hurts, pains, and fears of those experiencing them. Jesus was able to say, "Do not fear," because he became human and was part of the community that was experiencing the very things that led to fear.

But Jesus also did not leave things with just words. He took action. When assailed by a storm, Jesus took action to calm it (Matthew 8, 14). When a father was afraid for his girl's life, Jesus restored it (Mark 5). Christian communities are good at offering words, but too often actions are lacking. The Epistle of James has a few things to say about the failure to follow through. Once Christian communities take the time to listen and understand, they must take concrete steps to address and confront the sources of fear. It may mean risking comfort and security. It may mean going against popular opinion and against established traditions. Are there individual Christians and communities that are willing to come alongside the fearful and walk with them in their fight? If not, you might as well drop "Christian" from your name.

When you say, "Do not fear," it had better be more than just a theological exercise in orthodoxy.

Maintaining Momentum Beyond Fear and Anger

This past week has been whirlwind of emotions for many of us who have been frightened by Donald Trump’s campaign rhetoric, certain of his supporters, and the aftermath of him becoming President-Elect. At least some of us had opened the possibility that he might actually govern differently than he campaigned. But his early picks of advisors for the transition and staff once he is inaugurated have pretty much dashed that hope.

So where do we go from here?

The field of psychology and study of history shows that fear and anger, while strong short-term motivators, are terrible for long-term momentum. Fear and anger are strong emotions that cannot be maintained. Our psyches become normalized to the new realities and the body chemistries generated by these strong emotions are harmful long-term. We should not, must not, rely on fear and anger to carry us through.

So what can we do?

We need to turn our current strong emotions into habits of action. We need to cultivate and work on actions that become a part of our regular lives: actions that welcome the stranger, actions that show compassion and respect, actions that look for ways to reduce bigotry and bullying, actions that foster empathy and love. We need to find ways to make a habit of going out of our comfort zones to make connections with people outside of our normal circles.

We need to find ways to keep informed via reliable sources. And we need make it a habit to give to organizations whose purpose is to fight hate and promote equality.

We have to turn our current negative, but very strong, emotions into positive habits that lead to change. Otherwise what Trump and his rhetoric have ushered in will become the new normal.

Personally, I do a few things to follow my own advice, and what I wrote above comes from my own experience:

• I am a volunteer victims advocate for the local domestic violence and sexual assault advocacy organization. It helps me keep grounded with real people who work with the issue and with victims of violence and abuses of power.
• I work with substance abuse issues in our community. This helps me see that issues don’t have easy, black-and-white answers or solutions. This helps me see that people are complex beings, and that I cannot impose solutions onto anyone.
• I donate to Americans United for Separation of Church and State. Their regular e-mail and print newsletters keep me abreast of religious liberty issues as they apply not just to a segment of Christians, but to all people or all religions and the non-religious.
• I just donated to Southern Poverty Law Center. I believe that the work they do in fighting acts of hate and raising awareness of instances of hate and hate crimes is especially vital going forward.

You might find some of these that work for you. And there are plenty of other ways to cultivate positive habits to combat fear and hate, and change the world for the better. My exhortation to you is that you find at least one or two ways.

Nothing and Everything Changed

America, two days following the 2016 national elections, hasn't really changed that much in most practical ways; yet, in another sense, everything has changed. The latter didn't hit me until this afternoon while I was out walking about our small town. It's a single town on a small island in Alaska, accessible only by air and boat. So the people who reside here are pretty much the same, year in, and year out. So really, Tuesday hasn't changed a thing in this town.

Yet, there was something different inside of me. See, I am non-white and an immigrant - fitting two of the categories (of many) which have been marginalized and attacked during the election campaign. I've lived in the U.S. for many years and in this town for the past ten. And even yesterday, as I was walking about town, I didn't really feel that different.

But today, something changed. Not the environment, the town, the people who I encountered and with whom I interacted. But something in my psyche, my emotional health, and psychological well-being. I felt suspicion and uneasiness. I was on higher alert for threats and dangers.

Intellectually, I know that the chance that something has changed so much in this town that I would actually be a target and victim is probably infinitesimally low. Yet the election of Donald Trump and the tacit approval of the rhetoric that goes along with that has attacked my psyche and emotions. And if that can happen to me -- who I acknowledge as fairly privileged in many ways, has never been overtly been a target of racism or hate, and in many ways never will be -- how much more fearful are those who actually have been victims and targets?

Even if you aren't a racist or bigot, your celebration of Trump hurts. Even if you really do love immigrants and would never do anything to harm them, your refusal to strongly denounce hateful talk is damaging. Even though (giving the benefit of doubt) that most Trump supporters really do care about people around them, your silence speaks volumes about what you value and what you don't. 

Your admonition to us to "stop whining" tells us what we're feeling doesn't matter. Your admonition to us to "learn that we can't always have our way" is telling us that our concerns are invalid. When you tell us to "suck it up" and place the "nation first," it's telling us that diversity is only of value when it conforms to traditional Evangelical Christian, white European, cis-gender views. Or to put it another way, diversity is only valued as a token.

There is a palpable fear being experienced by those who have been devalued by Donald Trump, his campaign, and some of his outspoken supporters. I hope that President Trump will have the strength, courage, and discipline to reject measures and policies that devalue and dehumanize any number of groups of people. I hope that Congress and the judiciary will act as real checks and balances, if President Trump oversteps.

When you say you care about those who aren't quite like you; when you say that you want to protect and help the marginalized; when you say that you don't hate immigrants and people whose religion aren't yours -- we need you to actually vocalize that loudly and to act strongly to support what you claim. We need you to actually go outside your comfort zones; to listen to people who are terrified, to people who are physically ill from what has happened; to denounce any kind of hate and dehumanization. Because if you don't, even if you say you're not a racist or bigot, your silence communicates something very different. We need to know we can trust what you say.

Move Forward and Rebuild

Lectionary Year C, Proper 27
OT Reading: Haggai 1:15b-2:9

Sermon at First Presbyterian Church, Petersburg, Alaska on November 6, 2016.

Introduction

When we look around and observe the world around us, it’s difficult not to see the many problems, troubles, conflicts, divisions, and plain ugliness that seem omnipresent. There seem to be no easy solutions; and sometimes we wonder if there are any solutions at all. In the more pessimistic recesses of our minds, we think that maybe the world has gone so off track that it is on an irreversible downward trend into utter chaos and wreckage.

Many, faced with such a dark and uncertain future, understandably look to the past — when things seemed to be better, when things seemed more certain, when things and people seemed to be in their proper places, when there seemed to be order and predictability. And the temptation to try to recreate the past grows strong.

Nostalgia

There is a term for this which you’ve probably guessed; it is nostalgia. Alan R. Hirsch describes nostalgia as a yearning for an idealized past — “a longing for a sanitized impression of the past, what in psychoanalysis is referred to as a screen memory — not a true recreation of the past, but rather a combination of many different memories, all integrated together, and in the process all negative emotions filtered out.” (http://elitedaily.com/life/science-behind-nostalgia-love-much/673184/)

That sounds negative, but studies have found that nostalgia can help people cope with negative life events, depression, and even eases facing death.

Here are a few paragraphs in a New York Times article from 2013:

Nostalgia does have its painful side — it’s a bittersweet emotion — but the net effect is to make life seem more meaningful and death less frightening. When people speak wistfully of the past, they typically become more optimistic and inspired about the future.

“Nostalgia serves a crucial existential function,” Dr. Routledge says. “It brings to mind cherished experiences that assure us we are valued people who have meaningful lives. Some of our research shows that people who regularly engage in nostalgia are better at coping with concerns about death.”

“Nostalgia helps us deal with transitions,” Dr. Hepper says. “The young adults are just moving away from home and or starting their first jobs, so they fall back on memories of family Christmases, pets and friends in school.”

(http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/09/science/what-is-nostalgia-good-for-quite-a-bit-research-shows.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0)

Scientific American reports “situations that trigger negative emotions, feelings of loneliness, and perceptions of meaninglessness cause people to become nostalgic.” (https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/mind-guest-blog/the-rehabilitation-of-an-old-emotion-a-new-science-of-nostalgia/)

Dr. Hal McDonald, in Psychology Today (https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/time-travelling-apollo/201606/the-two-faces-nostalgia) describes two kinds of nostalgia. The first is restorative nostalgia, in which the person tries to recreate (or restore) the past into the present. The second is reflective nostalgia, in which the person savors the experience without trying to recreate it.

He writes:

These two types of nostalgia represent fundamentally different attitudes toward the past, and it is this difference that largely determines whether our memories of those happy days of yore will evoke feelings of joy or of sadness…

Restorative nostalgia is really a kind of homesickness—a homesickness for the past—more akin to the original pathological definition of nostalgia than to our current view of the term…

Reflective nostalgia, on the other hand, accepts the fact that the past is, in fact, past, and rather than trying to recreate a special past experience, savors the emotions evoked by its recollection.  This acknowledgment of the irretrievability of our autobiographical past provides an aesthetic distance that allows us to enjoy a memory in the same way that we enjoy a movie or a good book.

As you might guess, the latter, reflective nostalgia, is a more healthy response than the former, which tries to recreate (in vain) an idealized past.

Back from Exile

This brings us to the return of the Jews from exile in Babylon. Or at least a few of them. The prophet Jeremiah, early in the exile, had written and told them:

5 “Build homes, and plan to stay. Plant gardens, and eat the food they produce. 6 Marry and have children. Then find spouses for them so that you may have many grandchildren. Multiply! Do not dwindle away! 7 And work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, for its welfare will determine your welfare.” (Jeremiah 29:5-7 NLT)

Many had settled in Babylon and felt no need to return to their ancestral lands and face inevitable hardships there.

Cyrus had decreed that the Jews could return to Jerusalem and rebuild the Temple there. But the work had not really begun. The people went and worked on their individual homes and fields. The prophets had prophesied that their return would result in blessings (c.f. Ezekiel), but the people only saw reminders of destruction, desolation, and daily experienced difficulties.

Nearly twenty years had passed. And now the prophet Haggai rose to declare to the people that the current sad state of affairs was due to their neglect in rebuilding the Temple.

Not the Prosperity Gospel

At this point it should be said that Haggai could be used to support a prosperity gospel: i.e., that God blesses those who contribute toward his demands, and curses those who neglect him.

But it is important to note that the ancient temple is not equivalent to the present day churches or denominations. Neither should the temple be limited to spiritual and religious facets of individual and societal life.

The ancient temple was the center of religious, spiritual, social, and economic life. It was the hub of community and connections. A healthy temple meant healthy society and community. It was the place of celebrations. It was where relationships between human and deity, and between humans were restored and strengthened.

I think it can be difficult for Westerners, particularly Americans, to understand how the temple could be the center of so much of community. We value individualism, we tend to strictly segregate different spheres of our lives, and religion is certainly in a decline. But at least from anecdotal, personal experience that I’ve had in Japan large temples and shrines still form a major part of the economy through tourism and festivals; they are still focus of major celebrations and places where families and community come together; where life’s petitions, dreams, and goals are offered up.

When Haggai claims that the peoples’ neglect of the temple was the cause of their life problems, we can see how that can be reasonable logic. Haggai’s accusation is that the people were so concerned about their individual survival and comfort that they had neglected the well-being of the community. It is not the prosperity gospel, at least not in the present-day sense of the phrase in which God blesses individuals in a quid pro quo fashion. Rather it is a declaration that when the community looks after everyone in the community, God can multiple the sum of their efforts for the good of the entire community.

What is Wealth?

Stanley Hauerwas, at Duke University, drawing from Millbank and Pabst, theologians and philosophers, to describe wealth in terms of

goods that can be shared together such as intimacy, trust, beauty. The goods that should determine how we live are embedded in the practices of honour and reciprocity which are developed over time through the habits sustained by a tradition. The formation of such traditions depends on the existence of people of wisdom who can provide the judgments necessary for responding to new challenges while remaining faithful to the past.

People who so live do not think their first task in life is to become more wealthy or powerful as individuals. Rather wealth is best thought of as what we share in common, such as parks, or practices to which all have access, such as medicine. In other words, the post-liberal strategy is exactly the opposite of the liberal assumption that assumes that social practices of mutual assistance should be eliminated, while at the same time encouraging our desires for wealth and prestige. The liberal desire for the well-being of the individual not only ignores the goods built on gift relations, but in effect destroys the habits that make such relations possible.

(http://www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2016/11/02/4567512.htm)

Exhortation Heeded, But Things Don’t Look Good

The people heed Haggai’s words and begin the process of temple reconstruction. About two months later, Haggai offers a new word, the passage that was read this morning.

It appears that the people have been hard at work, but progress is slow. And what they have to show for it isn’t much. It is also possible that among the people are some elderly Jews who remember the first temple. Whether it is they, or the younger generation recalling the stories of old about the first temple, what they see before them is sorely lacking. They are discouraged. If their well-being and future rely upon God accepting the results of their construction, it doesn’t look very good. They have good reason to be concerned.

Suffering from Restorative Nostalgia

The people are suffering from the first, bad kind of nostalgia: restorative nostalgia. They want to recreate the new temple to resemble the first in its physical and religious grandeur. That’s, after all, what Ezekiel appears to have prophesied.

This kind of nostalgia can cause harm in many ways. It can halt progress — because the new can’t possibly be as good as the old, why bother? People can get stuck in the past. It can lead to feelings of depression and discouragement.

Or it can cause people to turn against each other — I know how it’s supposed to look like, so why can’t you just obey my instructions? Or, I know better than you, I’m the expert, so your opinions and ideas are worthless. Or, are you trying to sabotage the project with your less-than-perfect plans? People become divided, one group against another.

God Invites Reflective Nostalgia

Through Haggai, God offers a word of reflective nostalgia — the good kind of nostalgia. Haggai reminds the people of God’s faithfulness in their lives. The past cannot be recreated; but the past offers reminders that can strengthen and encourage the people to move forward.

God says, “I am with you.” He declares, “My spirit remains among you, just as I promised when you came out of Egypt. So do not be afraid.”

It is an invitation to remember how God has been with them, all the way from their beginnings in Egypt. It is an invitation to reflect on the power and strength of God to sustain and deliver.

It is a declaration that God does not dwell in the past but he is always a part of the present. God cannot be summoned by recreating the past. The people must move forward to where God is taking them.

God Is Found Where His People Work

God is already among them. The temple isn’t where God resides. God is where the people are doing the work of restoring God’s glory by their efforts to rebuild, restore, and heal community.

The returned exiles seemed to think God couldn’t come and bless them until the temple was complete and functional; and that the degree of blessing depended on the physical magnificence of the structure. What they heard was that their very efforts were where God could be present and manifest his glory.

Haggai exhorts the people to do the work. As long as they are doing the work of building community to reflect God’s image, God will be with them and bless them. Other nations will hear and wonder. They will be curious and come. And peace will be the result.

Fantasy or Reality?

Does this sound too good to be true? Is Haggai describing a fantasy?

I think the key point to remember is that the work we do for God is not to secure blessings for ourselves, or for our families, or for our church, but to bless the whole world. When Abram was first called by God, the blessings offered to him were so that the entire world would be blessed through him. I believe that is still God’s desire and his purpose for the church.

I think for far too long the church has been preoccupied with her own security and place in the world. Like the returned exiles during their first twenty years, the church is too often concerned about accounting and finances, membership rolls, and her pursuit of temporal influence and power. Too often the church neglects the people and community just outside her, sometimes literal, walls.

I believe the words of Haggai are still relevant for the church today. We need to rebuild the temple — no, not necessarily the physical church or congregations — but the image of God that we who claim to be followers of Christ represent to the world. The church must rebuild the picture of God that those outside her metaphorical walls see inside.

Is that impossible? Is that too hard? Has the image been so destroyed that it can’t be rebuilt? Is the destruction and desolation too much to bear?

Haggai’s words should still ring true for us today. God is with us. Just as he rescued Israel from Egypt, brought the exiles back from Babylon, helped them rebuild the second temple, gave us his perfect image in Jesus Christ, and sustained the church through two millennia, his Spirit remains to strengthen and lead us today. “Do not be afraid,” God commands.

Rebuild God’s Temple Today

We can rebuild God’s temple in our world today. We can restore the image of Jesus Christ that has been destroyed by religionists. We do it through our love, compassion, and faithfulness to the people of this community. We do it through our efforts to foster harmony and peace among peoples, especially among those with whom we disagree. We do it through our attitudes and actions that value people and relationships first.

We were placed on this earth to bless others. We were saved by Christ so that we would know his purpose and be given the power and strength to do this difficult but rewarding work. We have been given the ministry of reconciliation, of rebuilding people and relationships that have been broken. Let us come together and work together to restore the image and glory of God in his temple, the church, us.