Monday, May 27, 2024

Sermon: Mirepoix (Take Two)

Lectionary: Trinity Sunday (B)
Text: Psalm 29; Romans 8:12-17; John 3:1-17

Introduction

The sermon on bread pudding I gave here about seven years ago has clearly left an impression. Even if you don’t recall anything about the content of the sermon, most of you appreciate the bread pudding.

Eight years ago, Elise and I spent a week or so in New Orleans. About a month later, I preached a sermon at the Lutheran Church which prominently featured the topic of mirepoix.

Some of you may have heard the term before and might know what it means. The rest of you are going, “Now what is that?”

During our week in NOLA, we spent half of one of the days at the New Orleans School of Cooking, where Chef Kevin Belton demonstrated several recipes, including the bread pudding that many of you have enjoyed quite regularly over the past several years. Going over to the side of main dishes, he explained that the flavoring for Creole dishes comes from a combination of three key ingredients: two parts onion, one part green bell peppers, and one part celery.

At the end of the cooking demonstration, we were all given a lunch based on what he had cooked up. We were also given copies of all the recipes. In addition, at the market adjoining, there was a cookbook which he had recently authored and I purchased a copy which I had signed.

The “Holy Trinity”

During the class Kevin explained the history and significance of the three ingredients. The front part of his cookbook also dedicates a number of paragraphs to the topic. (You didn’t realize when you came to church this morning that you would be listening to an extended talk on Creole cuisine this morning, did you!? If I could deliver this sermon in any way I wanted, I would have chosen a demonstration kitchen so someone could cook while you listen so you could get all the sensory stimulations.)

Here I quote some relevant portions from that section:

When you are looking for the main flavor in New Orleans cooking, you won’t find it in a shaker, a container, a bottle or a box. The flavor is actually from the moisture that comes from cooking with onions, celery, and green bell pepper.

Classical French cooking relies on the use of a mire poix which is two parts onion, one part celery, and one part carrot. The problem was there were no carrots in south Louisiana 300 years ago. What we had here in New Orleans were plenty of bell peppers.

So the onions, celery, and bell peppers became the New World mire poix ingredient combination that is the foundation of most of New Orleans signature dishes… The industrious settlers and cooks in Louisiana incorporated the bell pepper out of necessity and created a unique flavor profile that is recognized as the only non-native American indigenous cuisine in the United States—Creole cooking…

Being a predominantly Catholic settlement, whether under French rule or Spanish, it is interesting to note that the same religion, Catholicism, guided the city for so many years under the concept of the Holy Trinity, the big three of the Catholics. The name stuck for the big three of New Orleans cuisine. It would be sacrilege to not cook with the traditional three: onions, celery, and bell pepper…

When you are going for true Creole flavor, be sure to invite the trinity into the pot. Onions, celery, and bell pepper, because you can’t cook New Orleans food without them.[1]

And there you now have the connection with Creole cuisine to Trinity Sunday. (And if you’re looking for a great New Orleans cookbook, I highly recommend Kevin Belton’s Big Flavors of New Orleans. The cooking school is also a great experience.)

Metaphors and Limitations

But back to the topic of the Trinity. If you search the web for “bad analogies for the Trinity”, you will find many examples, including probably the most common ones you’ve heard, including water, an egg, the sun, and more. And if I went ahead and used the onion, celery, and bell pepper as analogies for God the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit, this analogy would also quickly end up in that bucket of bad analogies. The reason for is that they all fall into some kind of theological heresy that was condemned during the early centuries of Christianity.

With the caveat that all metaphors and analogies have limitations and shouldn’t be stretched too far, I offer the following.

God might be compared to mirepoix of Creole cooking. Mirepoix is the crucial combination of ingredients that define Creole cuisine. In a similar manner, there are crucial characteristics of God, that when any are missing, God ceases to be God. In the gospel account of John, some of these properties include life, light, and love. God is life; God is light; God is love. But life is not God; light is not God; and love is not God. Nor can we say that God the Father is Light, Jesus is Love, and the Holy Spirit is Life. Each one is all of the properties.

Returning to cooking, we observe that onions alone do not make Creole cuisine; nor does celery alone; and nor does bell pepper alone. All three must exist simultaneously for Creole cuisine to be Creole cuisine. There is a certain substance that defines Creole cuisine.

The traditional wording of the Nicene Creed includes the following:

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, begotten not made, being of one substance [italics mine] with the Father…[2]

From this we can interpolate that in orthodox Christian theology, God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are of one substance. However, each Being of this singular substance we call God, has chosen to manifest to humanity in different ways.

A single Creole mirepoix is the foundation for jambalaya, gumbo, etouffee, bisque, and more. The mirepoix is incorporated into various dishes to satisfy various needs. And perhaps we might see how God’s characteristics manifest through God’s three different Beings in a somewhat analogous manner to cooking to fulfill God’s needs and desires in God’s relationship with humanity and with all of creation.

At this point some might object that my analogy and illustration has reduced God to mere material substance. To that I might say that I could have just started and ended with, “The Trinity is an incomprehensible mystery. Three Beings. One God. The End.” But that would not have been very helpful. I would also observe that the Bible itself is God limiting God’s self and revelation to the limits of human language and cultures. And finally, I would add that Jesus himself is God limiting God’s self to the confines of human experience at a particular point in time and space.

Lest someone find my use of food and cooking analogy of God sacrilegious, I might point out that throughout the Bible, God uses imagery of food to portray the sacred. Among them, Communion or the Eucharist should be foremost in our Christian experience. We might not typically associate the adjective delicious with God, but should Jesus’ description of himself as the Bread of Life, or the communion bread as “this is my body” to remain purely utilitarian? Could we associate delicious with these metaphors? Sure, we eat to gain nutrients to allow us to survive, but wouldn’t we rather enjoy the food? Psalm 34:8 includes a phrase, “Taste and see how good the LORD is!” (CEB)

Conclusion

When we imagine what the Holy Spirit is about, I think that in many cases the Holy Spirit is reduced to quiet whispers that prod our conscience. We often think of the Holy Spirit as a still, small voice that offers us wisdom and points us in a direction.

But the doctrine of the Trinity tells us that the entire substance of God is within us. All of God’s creative power, all of God’s redemptive power, all of God’s care and concern for creation, all of God’s love for all of God’s children.

The God of storms that we heard from Psalm 29 – that God is within us through the Holy Spirit.

The God who sacrificed himself in the being of Jesus Christ – that God is within us to enable us to follow Christ’s example.

The passage from Romans chapter 8 continues and includes the following well-known texts:

31 If God is for us, who is against us? 32 He didn’t spare his own Son but gave him up for us all. Won’t he also freely give us all things with him? 33 Who will bring a charge against God’s elect people? It is God who acquits them. 34 Who is going to convict them? It is Christ Jesus who died, even more, who was raised, and who also is at God’s right side. It is Christ Jesus who also pleads our case for us… 38 I’m convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus our Lord: not death or life, not angels or rulers, not present things or future things, not powers 39 or height or depth, or any other thing that is created.[3]

The doctrine of the Trinity tells us that the entirety of God is not only for us, but within us, empowering us to be God’s hands, feet, and voice in the world around us.

In the name of God who Creates,

In the name of God who Redeems,

And in the name of God who Empowers, Amen.

References

Belton, K. (2016). Kevin Belton's Big Flavors of New Orleans. Layton, UT: Gibbs Smith.



[1] (Belton, 2016, pp. 16-17)

[2] That the traditional wording of the Nicene Creeds might offer a historical theology of early Christianity that is at odds with modern Christian theology should be recognized.

[3] Romans 8:31b-34, 38-39 (CEB)

Sunday, May 12, 2024

Sermon: We Like to be In Control

The Ascension
by Benjamin West, PRA
1801
Lectionary: Easter 7B
Text: Acts 1

Introduction

Four years from the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, and arguably a couple of years now since it has become much less of a concern, we have learned a few things about human nature. One such thing is that we do not like unknowns and uncertainties, especially when there is no end in sight. Another, related to that, is that we would rather do anything than wait. And regarding that, we stumbled through numerous treatments and cures, many of which had no effect and some that were even quite harmful, just to have some semblance of reasserting control over the unknowns that were being faced. Even if many of those things were completely illusory.

For others of us, changes in routine can be quite upsetting and anxiety-inducing. To use myself as an example, while I like the idea of travel and seeing new places and having new experiences, all of the unknowns, uncertainties, changes in routines, and the loss of control involved in many aspects of travel often result in severe anxiety, which in turn manifests in physiological abnormalities. More than once the symptoms have been severe enough or concerning enough for me to seek out emergency medical services.

In-Between Time

On this final Sunday of the Easter liturgical season, we are looking at an in-between time. The followers of Jesus have experienced several monumental highs and lows: the arrest and crucifixion, the empty tomb, the multiple appearances of Jesus following his resurrection and the next forty days to them, and most recently, Jesus’ ascension. This is a huge number of emotional and psychological impacts that directly affect their being. Many of these events include large unknowns about what they think they will face about the future. Some of these involve the loss of Jesus, who had been their center and source of control and confidence for them.

It should not be a surprise then, to hear the question, “Lord, are you going to restore the kingdom to Israel now?” (Acts 1:6) coming from them. For forty days, it seems like their lives are returning to how things were before. Jesus is among them, walking with them and teaching them. He is speaking about the kingdom of God.

“Wait…”

But Jesus tells them that the restoration of the kingdom is not yet. Not only that, but there is no timetable that he gives them. What Jesus promises is the arrival of the Holy Spirit into them. And the command that Jesus gives them is to wait and “stay in the city until you have been furnished with heavenly power.” (Luke 24:49[1]) Jesus does not give any indication of how long they are to wait.

And then Jesus ascends and is no longer among them. Their world, which had been turned upside down by the crucifixion, but had seemed to be returning after the resurrection, is once again tossed into the air.

Waiting…

The disciples return to Jerusalem and begin their waiting for the Holy Spirit. The total number of individuals is reported as around one-hundred and twenty, including women. They begin their waiting period devoting themselves to prayer. Even though we know that the number of days between Jesus’ ascension and Pentecost is a mere ten days, they don’t know how long they would have to wait.

This next part is a narrative hypothesis of my imaginations as to how the next few days might have gone.

A day passes and there is no promised Holy Spirit. “Well,” some of them might suppose, “Jesus has just returned to God and he is still busy getting resettled in his heavenly abode. We shouldn’t expect the Holy Spirit so soon.”

A second day goes by, and still there is no Holy Spirit. Maybe a few a getting a bit antsy and anxious, but two days is still not a very long time to wait.

A third day goes by and more of them are starting to question and wonder. Is their devotion to prayer sufficient? Did they overlook something else Jesus told them to do while waiting? What could Jesus possibly be doing that is more important than sending to them the promised Holy Spirit?

Tired of Waiting

Now, the Bible doesn’t say how many days they waited until the next event recorded takes place. All the text tells us is that “during this time” of ten days, “Peter stood among them” and proposed a course of action.

Peter is not known for his patience. He is a man of words and action. He is a man of extremes. When Jesus comes walking on the water, Peter wants to do the same. Peter is the first to declare Jesus as “Son of God.” But the very next thing, Peter is rebuking Jesus. When Peter sees Jesus transfigured, he proposes building tents where all of them could continue experiencing glory. Peter at first refuses to have his feet washed by Jesus, but after Jesus tells him that it must be done, Peter asks for his entire body to be washed. Peter says he is willing to give his life for Jesus and in the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter is ready to defend Jesus with a sword. But when Jesus tells him that force of arms is not the way, Peter flees and then denies ever knowing Jesus.

The impatient and impetuous Peter seems to resurface in the first chapter of Acts. He perhaps thinks that the reason the Holy Spirit hasn’t been given is because their number is incomplete. With Judas Iscariot no longer a part of the Twelve, the specially appointed disciples only number eleven. Perhaps it is with this reasoning that Peter proposes appointing a replacement for Judas. Peter justifies his proposition with a number of texts pulled from the Hebrew scriptures.

Nostalgia and Desire for Comfort

Peter’s proposal might also be colored by nostalgia. When they were the chosen Twelve with Jesus, traversing about Galilee, Judea, and the occasional foray outside of these areas, it was a happy time. They knew who they were and where they belonged. They were secure with Jesus. Perhaps in Peter’s mind, reverting to some of the old structure would ease the discomfort and anxiety that they were now experiencing. The replacement would have to be a man (not a woman) who had been with Jesus during his entire public ministry. That would restore proper structure.

Perhaps too, in the minds of Peter and the other disciples, because Jesus had appointed the Twelve specifically, that the ministry handed down to them by Jesus would remain their sole domain. That in order for Jesus’ ministry to continue, their number would need to be maintained through appointment of replacements. (Acts 1:15-26 is one of the passages that is used to base the doctrine of apostolic succession.)

The rest of the believers agree that this could very well be a good idea and nominate two candidates (the first Christian nominating committee): Joseph called Barsabbas (also known as Justus), and Matthias. After prayer, they cast lots and Matthias is selected.

This is the only place where Matthias (and Joseph) is mentioned. Nothing is recorded about his history. He makes no recorded contributions to the early church. He is mentioned once and forgotten.

Perhaps replacing Judas with another wasn’t God’s idea, even when Peter found texts to support the action. Even when sincere prayer was involved.

But the Holy Spirit still doesn't arrive.

Pentecost

But then Pentecost comes (and here I touch on next Sunday’s lection). The believers are all gathered and the Holy Spirit rushes in, appearing like flames alighting atop each one, men and women alike. The gift of the Spirit and the commissioning of ministry is given to all of them, not just the Twelve.

When others in Jerusalem question what is happening, Peter gets up to speak, and he seems to have finally understood, at least in part, what the Holy Spirit has done. Peter quotes from the prophet Joel who prophesied that in the last days God will empower everyone – not just select priests, not just those with proper lineage, not just men, not just those of specific ages, and certainly not just appointed apostles.

Whereas the text of Acts merely relates the details of the appointment of Matthias without evaluation, the activities around the Day of Pentecost is evaluated positively. Although the absence of evaluation isn’t proof that what Peter and the believers did was negative, I think there is sufficient evidence to suggest that what they did was not necessary for God do God’s work.

The Holy Spirit Among Us

The Holy Spirit breaks traditions and boundaries. The Holy Spirit is free to break even those markers that God might have placed in earlier times. The work of the Holy Spirit is often found in experiences that are discomforting. Growth is not found in places of comfort. Christians are not called and commissioned to replicate what has come before. We are not called to restore the past.

We are called to build the kingdom of God.

The kingdom of God sprouts and grows slowly, almost imperceptibly. It is like a mustard seed. It is like a seed that is sown. There might be long periods of time when nothing seems to be happening, like a seed that lies dormant until the right conditions develop. There might be lengthy times of waiting.

Faithfulness to God and God’s mission might mean that during some periods of our lives, it requires us to wait for God to act. We can’t force God to act.

Many times, we would rather act. Doing something at least feels better than doing nothing.

I don’t really know why God asks us to wait. God could just act without us having to wait. One speculation of mine is that God allows periods of waiting so that we can exhaust our “doings”. Perhaps these times allow us realization of those areas where we aren’t yet fully reliant on God. Perhaps we are like small children yelling, “I can do it myself!” when clearly, they cannot. Perhaps God is like the parent watching and waiting for us to acknowledge our limitations and allow God to work in God’s own time.

Sometimes faith demands we act. But faith also demands that at times we wait. We may suffer through discomfort and anxiety. We might want it to end. We might try to cause God to act. But God acts in God’s own time. Waiting is a spiritual discipline. Letting go of our desire to control is a spiritual discipline.

When God acts, and God does, it is through the Holy Spirit working through us. The results of God-initiated action are far beyond what we could have possibly imagined.

Bibliography

Bartlett, D. L., & Taylor, B. B. (2008). Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2 (Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary). Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press.

Gonzales, J. L. (2001). ACTS: The Gospel of the Spirit. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books.

Liggett, J. (2024, May 12). Waiting, Easter 7 (B) – May 12, 2024. Retrieved from The Episcopal Church: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/sermon/waiting-easter-7-b-may-12-2024/

 

 



[1] C.f., Acts 1:4, “He ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait for what the Father had promised.” The Lucan text is more explicit about what was promised.