Last Sunday after Pentecost - November 25

The Kingdom Yet to Come
Revelation 1:4b-8
John 18:33-37

When I was a student in seminary I was accused once of having a “realized eschatology.” There are undoubtedly worse taunts that are hurled about on the seminary playground… accusations of Pelagianism or other heresies. But it was a theology professor who commented on my “realized eschatology,” and it was said with a note of kindly criticism, suggesting that I might do well to explore a fuller or more balanced doctrine of eschatology.

To explain: Eschatology is that branch of theology that describes “last things.” The eschaton is the “final event in the divine plan. The end of the world.” The ultimately fulfillment of God’s plan. It is more than just an end; it is a completion, a fulfillment. The coming of God’s kingdom. Eschatology studies these subjects.

A realized eschatology holds that much of that divine plan is made real now… that we experience at least a significant portion of God’s plan now, here, in this world, in our daily lives. The kingdom is realized in our lives. We do not have to wait until the end of time to experience God’s fulfillment.

Today I want to try to express a more balanced view of eschatology. I want to talk about the kingdom that is yet to come. And maybe Professor Charlie Price, who now dwells in that kingdom beyond, will smile a bit.

The readings for this Last Sunday after Pentecost place the issues of eschatology and the Kingdom of God before us. The readings talk a lot about kings, earthly kings and heavenly kings. And, although it is not an official commemoration on the Episcopal calendar, today is informally known as Christ the King Sunday. We consider what it means to name Christ as King.

During his earthly ministry, Jesus does not seem to have described himself as the Messianic king. He clearly did not see himself as the political king many Jews at the time expected the Messiah to be. But Jesus does talk a lot about the kingdom, Gods kingdom. And Jesus says the kingdom is drawing near.

The kingdom drew near as Jesus drew near. As God incarnate, the kingdom dwelt within Jesus. He bore the kingdom within him. And as we, and others, draw near to Jesus we glimpse the kingdom through him. The kingdom is realized in our lives as we bring Jesus into our lives.

To go completely off script, I wonder if we see and know the Kingdom sort of like Bali Hai. This illustration will only work for those of you who know South Pacific.

Bali Ha'i may call you, Any night, any day,
In your heart, you'll hear it call you:
"Come away...Come away."

Bali Ha'i will whisper In the wind of the sea:
If you try, you'll find me
Where the sky meets the sea.

Someday you'll see me floatin' in the sunshine,
You'll hear me call you….

If you try, you'll find me
Where the sky meets the sea. 

You will hear. You will see. In your heart you will know. If you try, you will find me. In a way, we know the kingdom second hand if we know Jesus, and that is wondrous.

 But to know the kingdom first hand, to realize it, to experience it fully in our own lives, that is yet to come.

 The readings for today speak of God’s kingdom as beyond this world, beyond even time. Jesus says to Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world.” And the Revelation readings refers to the Alpha and the Omega, the one who is and who was and who is to come… who is beyond time.

 If I asked you to describe God’s kingdom, what would you say? What do you think the Kingdom of God is like?

I read that across the ages, Christians have tended to describe the Kingdom through what they perceived as its antithesis in their own day… The kingdom is a place without slavery. The Kingdom is a place without poverty or hunger. The kingdom is a place without the dehumanizing power of multinational corporations. The kingdom is a place without war.

We have wonderful images of the kingdom from Scripture. The peaceable kingdom where, improbably and impossibly, the lion lies down with the lamb. There are Jesus’ kingdom parables. The sower, where the kingdom is a place that nurtures health and growth. The pearl of great price, where somehow the kingdom brings value into life. The mustard seed where the kingdom is a place of safety and inclusion.

Today’s collect reminds us that in the kingdom we are free from sin and all barriers that separate us are dissolved into reconciliation. So is the kingdom doable on earth? Can we as human beings achieve any of these manifestations of the kingdom? Even with God’s help, can we bring the kingdom near?

As Christians have thought about God’s kingdom there has always been a tension between the now and not yet. Between a yearning for the kingdom present now, and a vision of it yet to come.

Luther described the kingdom yet to come as the realm of divine grace. A place where everything (everything!) is suffused and governed by divine grace.

Those with a more realized eschatology have described the kingdom as a realm of ideal human relations. This world, perfected. And Christians have felt called to work to make that kingdom real, to do “kingdom work.” To work for social justice and the dignity of every person. Our baptismal covenant calls us to do this work as much as we are able.

But. But in the face of our repeated failure and despair to bring the kingdom fruition on earth; in the face of profound disagreements among Christians about what constitutes “kingdom work;” in the face of our inevitable slavery to selfishness, violence, and laziness… In the face of our inability to make God’s kingdom real, it is very good to remember Luther. To remember that the realm of divine grace is real. To remember that God’s kingdom yet to come, God’s kingdom brought to fullness and fruition by God, is absolutely real and lies ahead.

So maybe a balanced eschatology goes something like this: I am grateful for partial manifestations of God’s kingdom that are realized in this world, in my time. I am grateful for the glimpses I see that bring hope and assurance and renewed commitment to do kingdom work as best I’m able.

But, thanks and praise to God, this is not all there is. Let us joyfully and humbly remember that the fulfillment of Christ’s reign, promised to us, is better than all this. Better than this world around us. Even if we could fix everything in this world, the Kingdom of God is so much better than this. The glory of God’s hope for us, the glory of God’s plan for us, is so beyond our imagining, so beyond anything we could possibly create… The kingdom of glory not yet realized in our midst lies ahead.

Thanksgiving

Five Stages of Thankfulness 

At least in the era of modern psychology, it seems like everything is described in “stages.” There are the well-known five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. The psychologist Erik Erikson described human life as unfolding in stages of psychosocial development. They have fairly prosaic names like adolescence or middle adulthood. I was a bit interested to read that the defining conflict for middle adulthood, my current stage, is the conflict between generativity and stagnation.

If you google development stage theories, you’ll find listing of lots of other stages… stages of moral development, stages of spiritual development. There seems to be a development stage theory for everything in life.

 I am not an expert, but I think it’s accurate to say that all of these development stage theories are progressive. Human beings are perceived to progress, in order, from less mature or developed stages towards stages of greater maturity and sophistication. I imagine sometimes we get stuck or even backtrack a bit, but overall it’s a good thing to progress to higher and higher stages.

In this spirit of development stage theories, today I propose the five stages of thankfulness. It may be that some psychologist has written a dissertation on this or maybe there are a whole host of books on it, but I’m not aware of them. So these are my own, unscientifically constructed… Kristin’s five stages of thankfulness.

ONE. Stage one I call clueless. Clueless at least in the thankfulness department. Characterized by a sense of entitlement. What I have is mine. I deserve it. I have it. It’s mine.

TWO. Stage two is gratitude. I am grateful for what I have. It is conceivable that I might not have it. Perhaps I am aware of others who don’t have what I have and I am grateful. It seems to me that this stage is the primary focus of the thanksgiving holiday. To remind us to be grateful for what we have, to not take things for granted. Awakening gratitude is an important task. And, on the whole, I think most of us do pretty well. We are grateful.

THREE. Stage three takes gratitude one step further to what I call donor appreciation. Not only am I grateful for what I have, I am aware that someone gave me what I have and I am grateful to that donor. For example, not only am I grateful for the opportunities and freedoms I enjoy in this country, I am grateful to the wise and courageous founding fathers, who, in order to form a more perfect union, established this government and I grateful to soldiers and judges and citizens who preserve it. As Christians, aware of life’s blessings, we name God at this stage. We thank God for bestowing blessings upon us.

From clueless entitlement to an awareness of gratitude to thanksgiving for those who gifted us with good. Progress in the stages of thankfulness. It’s easy to stop at this point. But I have two more important stages of thankfulness. They both involve a response. A response from us.

FOUR. Stage four is giving thanks, expressing thanksgiving, returning thanks. Not just being thankful that you have a kind grandmother who gave you a really fabulous birthday present, but writing her a thank you note. Taking the time, the effort, the initiative to say thank you. Express thanksgiving. Offer prayer and praise to God in thanksgiving. Give voice to our thankfulness.

FIVE. Stage five is sharing. Sharing out of gratitude for what you have. And if you have anything to be thankful for, you have something to share. Not just giving out of a sense of obligation or responsibility or to meet a need, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I’m thinking of sharing just for the sake of sharing. Because we can. Because we’re grateful. Because it’s a joyous way to participate in God’s own limitless generosity. Sharing seems to be the most spiritually mature, sophisticated stage of thankfulness. The stage that brings us closest to God. What are you thankful for? Warmth, love, creativity, friends, freedom, material abundance? All of these can be shared. Shared just out of joyful thankfulness that bubbles up and out into the world. Sharing as an expression of thankfulness.

Five stages of thankfulness. Stage one, a clueless absence, really, of thankfulness. Then gratitude, then an awareness of the donors and protectors of our gifts. And finally, our response. Expressing thanks, and ultimately, without reservation, in thanksgiving, sharing what we have been given with others.

May you know and share God’s blessings this Thanksgiving.

The Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost - November 11

For People Like Us
Mark 12:38-44

The Gospel passage we heard this morning is relatively familiar. It’s the source of our English phrase, “a widow’s mite.” Jesus’ message seems pretty clear.

First, Jesus harshly condemns the scribes… those who use religious practice to make themselves feel good and look good. Long prayers and opulent robes are all about drawing attention to themselves, improving their status and wealth. They even devour widow’s houses for their own gain.

Moving on from his condemnation of the self-serving scribes, Jesus takes a seat in te treasury. The temple treasury. Evidently, many rich people put in lots of money. One commentary I read noted that they were probably tithing according to a complicated formula from an established tradition with significant deductions. Publicly meeting their pro forma obligation. Evidently there were a set of donations chests in the temple marked with the purpose for which the money would be used. So the donors could “control” or earmark their donations. In this passage, Jesus doesn’t actually condemn the rich donors, although he seems totally unimpressed.

In contrast, he lifts up the poor widow who puts in her two small copper coins, worth only a penny, but they are all she had to live on. Not all she could spare. Not all she had in her pocket that day. All she had to live on. And as a widow, she most likely did not have access to financial reserves or the ability to earn more.

Jesus commends her. It seems pretty clear. It’s funny, though, how we are able to ignore or rationalize our way around this passage.

As I was reading a bit about this passage this week, I discovered some interesting insights which provide an additional way to interpret what Jesus is saying. Not to disregard the familiar interpretation, but an additional message that Jesus may be conveying.

First: In Mark’s Gospel Jesus’ comments about the poor widow are the last thing he says in his public ministry before, pardon the phrase, all hell breaks loose. After this there are some apocalyptic pronouncements about the destruction of the temple and then the events of his passion. This is his last “normal” interaction with the people and his disciples. This is what the disciples are left with just as events begin to propel Jesus towards his crucifixion.

Second: Maybe this passage isn’t meant so much to answer the question: What are we supposed to do with our money? Maybe it’s meant to answer the question: Who is Jesus? Or who is the Messiah?

The Gospel passage we heard today begins a few verses earlier in Mark 12:35. Jesus begins teaching in the temple and he asks: “How can the scribes say that the Messiah is the son of David... When David himself calls him Lord?” Who is the Messiah? A literal son of David or something more? Lord of all.

So the passage we heard could be interpreted as a further exploration of the question, Who is the Messiah?

The Messiah certainly is not about fancy robes or long prayers just for show. He is not a puppet of the religious establishment, one who will fulfill the expectations or meet the needs of the Pharisees and scribes.

And then there is the poor widow. Who gives all she has to live on. And she gives it, think about it, to the temple! She gives all she has to the very people who are devouring the houses of widows. She gives her livelihood to people who are corrupt, self-serving, and hypocritical. It seems a reckless gift, sad and misguided. Yet Jesus lifts her up for all to see.

Perhaps this passage is an overture to Jesus’ passion. Like a traditional overture it introduces themes that will become even more important as the story unfolds. The widow’s gift foreshadows the one Jesus is about to make.

Can you see Jesus in this poor widow? Can you see her as a type for the Messiah? Jesus gives us this image to ponder. Can you see this poor widow on the cross? She gave up all she had to live on, her very life, on behalf of people who, at their best are indifferent to her. She gave all she had for people who, at their worst, devoured her for their own benefit. She gave up her life for selfish, corrupt, hypocritical scribes. People who surely did not deserve her gift and who would not use it well.

Apparently without any reservation she gave her life for people like us.

The Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost - October 28

Doing Religion
Mark10:46-52
Stewardship

One of the more significant insights I have gained recently from the insights and scholarly work of others is the recognition that for the early Christians faith was a verb. Faith was what you DID, not what you believed. To be a person of faith was to act in a certain way. The church has spent centuries exploring and articulating doctrines that are the corpus of belief. And these can be extremely helpful in our journey Godward. But I think we can also benefit greatly by reclaiming the ancient understanding of faith as what we do, more than what we believe.

Faith is what we do. Today’s Gospel brought this to mind again. Jesus says to formerly blind Bartimaeus, “You faith has made you well.” Our first thought is probably to assume that it was what Bartimaeus believed about Jesus that was important. But maybe, just maybe it was because Bartimaeus called out, because he asked for help, because he sprang towards Jesus… maybe it was these words and actions that moved him towards God and God’s wholeness. Maybe the faith that led him into healing was what he did, not what he believed.

I’m going to springboard from this understanding of faith to talk about religion. Faith is individual. Religion is corporate. What if we think of religion in the same way the early Christians thought about faith, except that it is corporate. What if we define religion as what WE DO together? Faith is what I DO; religion is what WE DO. It is less then about what we, as a group believe, which is probably how most of us would have defined religion. Religion is what we, plural, do together. It is the group expression of faith. You will sometimes hear people speak dismissively of “organized religion.” But, yes, religion is organized… Religion is a group activity. Group activities have to be organized to some degree.

It’s interesting to me that the words religion and ligament come from the same root. It means to connect, or bind together. And doing religion, participating in the group activities that are religion, clearly connect us to one another as sisters and brothers in Christ. But doing the group activities of religion also connect us to God, to our own individual faith (beliefs and actions), and to the needs of the world.

How are theses connections built? For example, our corporate worship connects us to God. It’s certainly possible for an individual to feel connected to God, but as we worship together we are surrounded by the words and witness of the saints…. Both the historical saints who populate our windows, and also the saints sitting next to you in the pews. Their witness, their words lift you to God beyond your individual efforts. Our awareness of God immanence is heightened by the sights and sounds of altar and music. And the sacraments, the heart of our corporate worship, bring us beyond connection into communion with the living God. Doing worship as a group connects us to God.

The activities of organized religion, our group activities also connect us to our individual faith (both its beliefs and activities). Religion nurtures faith, more than vice versa, I think. You do not have to have a deep personal faith to do religion as part of the group. And participation in the group activities of religion deepens and strengthens your individual faith. Remember that the great doctrines of belief were developed in messy group meetings. In conversation, discussion, group study we are connected to the faith within us. These help us see and know God better and live our individual faith better.

Doing religion as a group also connects us to one another. We are knit together through Christ into caring community. A community where Democrat and Republican love one another. And I’m not being flip! God, the world needs communities like these. We are connected to a community where our individual needs are met with prayer, support and compassion and our joys celebrated together. Where no one ever need be isolated or alone.

Doing religion as a group also connects us to the needs of the world. We serve others best as the Body of Christ. Yes, an individual can do a lot to help others in need, and secular agencies also do good work. But we serve the needs of the world best as the Body of Christ.

So religion is a verb. It is what we, plural, do together. Group activities like worship, fellowship, learning and conversation, outreach. When we do these activities together, they connect us to God, to our own faith, to our fellow human beings, both within the church and beyond. We need those connections. We need to do religion.

You need religion.
The world needs religion.
Your neighbor, your kids, your parents need religion.

We need to be a part of these group activities that connect us to God and to one another.

Religion is not an abstract set of beliefs; it is not some institution with an organizational chart. It’s what… WE. DO. What we do together. And we do it in the parish. The parish is the group, the community that does religion.

You are that group. But to be a part of it, you have to be a part of it. It’s not like public radio where you can get the music or the news without participation. You have to do religion, do the group activities that connect us to God, enrich our faith, bless our lives, heal the world.

The only way to do religion is to be a part of the group.

Showing up is very important. Your presence, your prayers, your voices are important. Showing up regularly is very important. For you; for all of us. Your presence makes the group.

But the group activities also need your participation, your offering of yourself. The religious activities of this parish community cannot happen without your time and your talents. For these things to happen it means you doing tasks, some interesting, some less so, you attending meetings, you giving generously of your money and your self. To do religion, it certainly helps to have a building and at least some staff. Maintaining those are up to you.

Religion is what we do to connect us to God, to our faith, to a caring community, to the needs of the world.

Are you doing all you can to help us do religion?

The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost - October 14

Punishment and Reward
Job 23:1-9, 16-17
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31

Do you see a connection between today’s readings from Job and from Mark? Can you believe that Job and Jesus’ words in Mark are related? The messages they convey are much the same. Both speak to how God acts in the world. Or, more accurately, how God doesn’t act. And both Job and Jesus radically challenged the presumptions of faithful people in their day. The Book of Job and at least part of what Jesus is saying in today’s Gospel passage both present a stark contradiction to peoples’ faith-view at the time these words were spoken and shared.

Job says: God does not send suffering as a punishment for sin.

Jesus, in Mark, says: God does not send wealth as a reward for righteousness.

Which is to say, you cannot look at your neighbor, assess their current state of life, and thereby judge whether they are sinful or righteous. Are they currently suffering with poverty, illness or loss? Or are they comfortable, thriving with abundance? You cannot assess your neighbor’s state of life and thereby deduce whether or not they are sinful or righteous. God does not send suffering as a punishment for sin. God does not send wealth as a reward for righteousness.

 I expect most of us would affirm those statements without hesitation. Intellectually, at least, we do not expect God to act that way in our lives, materially punishing or rewarding our individual behavior. But on a gut level, I do think we expect God to act that way. So much of life does. There are consequences for good and bad behavior… reward and punishment. We WANT life to work that way. And, while we may not want God to punish our bad behavior, there are times when we think he should punish other peoples’ bad behavior. And we’d definitely like him to reward our good behavior.

And Scripture, especially the Old Testament, contains many passages where God is understood by God’s people to act in exactly this way—punishing the sinful and rewarding the righteous. But the Book of Job and Jesus’ words directly contradict that perspective.

First, Job. We had a little bit of Job last week, a little this week, and we’ll get one more snippet next week. If you don’t already know the story, it’s hard to get a sense of the book as a whole. God does not cause Job’s suffering, but God definitely allows it. But over and over again, we are told that Job is righteous. He has done nothing wrong. In the passages that occur in the lectionary, we don’t hear from Job’s endearing friends, but they go on for chapters, persisting in their belief that Job must have done something terrible to deserve this suffering. They believe that Job’s suffering is punishment for sin. But no. Job is righteous and Job suffers. That is the heart of the entire book of Job. Job is righteous and Job suffers. Ultimately Job comes to a richer understanding of his place in God’s creation and a deeper relationship with God. But the through-going theme of Job is that Job is righteous and Job suffers. Therefore, suffering is not God’s punishment for sin. God does not send suffering as punishment for sin.

 The story we heard today from Mark appears in all three synoptic Gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke. There are variations, but in all three the young man has done well. He definitely has wealth in Luke he is a ruler. He has power and money. And yet he evidently still feels some lack, some absence of grace, uncertainty about salvation. And how, he might ask, can that be? I have done what I am supposed to do, observing the laws of Moses. I have been richly rewarded by God for my righteous observance of the law… Because I have followed God’s commandments God has bestowed power and wealth on me. How can I still feel a lack? And Jesus tells him, more or less, not only is his wealth not a reward for righteousness it may be an impediment to entering the kingdom of God.

Another detail in this passage is interesting. The disciples are surprised that it will be difficult for someone who is rich to enter heaven. They are astounded, Mark says. If the rich are not to be saved, then who is? It is certainly plausible that the disciples, like others in their day, viewed riches as a sign of righteousness. Wealth is the reward of the righteous, so surely the wealthy can expect salvation.

As you may know there is a popular strand in Christianity known as the prosperity Gospel. It teaches just this: that God rewards the righteous with prosperity. Jesus says, no.

 I do think we experience consequences based upon our behavior, when we are sinful or when we follow God’s will. But I think those consequences are self-imposed, not God-imposed.

There’s one implication of all of this that I find very helpful to remember. Neither suffering nor wealth are God’s purpose for us. They are not the endgame in God’s will for us. They are not the ultimate destination of our faith journey. Thus, they are not cause for despair or celebration before God.

Of all of the Scripture readings we heard today, Hebrews was written last. It presents a reflection on Jesus’ life and ministry, their meaning and implications for us. And Hebrews says that because we have a great high priest like Jesus, because the Son of God lived as one of us, because of these things, we can boldly approach the throne of grace. Grace is God’s purpose for us. To be filled with God’s grace is God’s desire for us. And, through Christ, we have courage, strength, boldness, encouragement to enter into God’s grace. There are no impediments to receiving God’s grace.

We can boldly pray the collect for today that God’s grace may always precede, follow, surround and fill us. And that makes all the difference in the world. In times of suffering God’s grace brings us God’s own peace and hope and healing. In times of prosperity or comfort or wealth, God’s grace brings us compassion and empathy and the motivation to generous good acts. In times of suffering God’s grace brings us compassion and empathy and the motivation to generous good acts. In times of prosperity or comfort or wealth, God’s grace brings us God’s own peace and hope and healing.

God sends us grace and the ability to live gracefully, filled with grace. And, whether you are facing suffering or prosperity, that makes all the difference in the world.

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost - October 7

What Jesus Said
Mark 10:2-16 

Among the many wonderful collects in the Prayer Book, this is one I particularly like. And given the very unattractive options in the Scripture readings today, I planned to preach on the collect. I especially the phrase where we affirm that God is “always more ready to hear than we to pray.” Simple, powerful, reassuring.

No matter who you are, or where you are, or what’s going on. God is listening. God is eager to hear your prayer. I imagine a mega-Verizon moment. Billions upon billions upon billions of people across all time and space, saying to God, “Can you hear me now?” And God says simply, yes. And even those people who don’t or can’t ask God to listen, God is ready to hear them, too.

The Scripture readings really are challenging this week. First, there’s Job. What are to do with Job? We’re in it a few more weeks, so we may still have to grapple with it.

Then there’s today’s Gospel. Jesus’ apparent categorical judgment against divorce. In one of the resources I often consult, Karoline Lewis, a homiletics professor writes: “Let’s be honest. Few, if any, preachers out there will want to write a sermon on this Gospel text. There’s just no way around its challenges, its heartache and its ramifications for and ripple effects on all of the relationships involved.” She’s got that right! But then she continues: But, “it’s one of those texts in the Bible that if read out loud, you must preach on it. Divorce has touched too many lives to leave a passage like this, especially when Jesus is talking, just hanging out there for all to hear.”

Rats. Unfortunately, I agree with her. We’ve all heard it read out loud. We can’t just leave it hanging out there.

This passage is one of those we sometimes label, “Jesus’ hard sayings.” Usually, what we mean by that is not that they are hard to understand or interpret; they are hard to accept. In this case, harder for some than others, presumably.

To do anything with this passage, we need to both the passage and its context in some detail. David Lose points out that Jesus is on route to Jerusalem, walking purposefully to meet his cross. Jesus was often on a journey, of course, but place is frequently important for Mark. And at this point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus has just crossed the Jordan, leaving his homeland, entering into unfamiliar country. Symbolically, Jesus goes beyond the proscribed boundaries of his day to proclaim the Gospel.

Second, the Pharisees initiate this conversation. They controlled the laws. Theirs was the power to interpret, promulgate and enforce the laws. They were attempting to draw Jesus into and test him in the world in which they had power.

Finally, very importantly, divorce (and marriage) were very different then. We know that intellectually, but we still inevitably hear this passage through the context of our own culture and context. Marriage was a contract, a contract about property of which the wife was one part. Divorce was allowed. Men had the right to divorce or dismiss their wives.

There was, evidently, some debate about the conditions under which a man could divorce his wife. David Lose again: “There were two schools of thought about divorce in Jesus' day – both believed a man had a right to put away, dismiss, or divorce his wife. One school was fairly strict – a man could do this only if his wife were unfaithful; the other was more lenient – a man could do this if his wife displeased him in any number of ways, including, according to one rabbinic source, "burning her husband's toast." Either way, the consequences for the woman were devastating – familial and public disgrace, potentially severe economic hardship, and limited future prospects for her and her children.”

Women had no standing or power.

Jesus doesn’t enter into the legal debate. He completely reframes the issue within the context of creation—God’s creation. And he gives women place, standing, even parity within the context of God’s creation. God’s vision, God’s will, God’s kingdom includes people who human society marginalizes or isolates.

I’ve tried to think of a modern analogy that would cast this story in a way that is more relevant to contemporary society. This is admittedly an exaggerated analogy, but consider this as a modern retelling of Jesus’ encounter and conversation with the Pharisees. There is a sweatshop owner, all-powerful in his factory. The entire lives of the laborers whom poverty has forced into the sweatshop are in his control. The sweatshop owner comes to Jesus to ask if the Ten Commandments, the Law of Moses, require him to give his laborers one day off, rest on the Sabbath. Jesus doesn’t answer that question. He says you need to respect the dignity of every human being. You need to seek and serve the image of Christ in every beloved child of God.

Taken by itself, this passage alone does not provide grounds to talk about the rightness or legalities of divorce today. I hope you know, that although we have not always done so, the Episcopal Church affirms that divorce can be the best, most faithful choice in some situations. Always an occasion for grief, but sometimes the most creative, most faithful choice. This passage taken on its own is also not sufficient to provide a definition of marriage for our time.

This passage does tell of Jesus going beyond the margins of Galilee on his way to his death and saving resurrection. And taking the Kingdom of God to people who are beyond the margin, outside boundaries of power. Today’s Gospel reading ends with the familiar scene where Jesus gathers the children to himself. If there was one group of people in Jesus’ day who had even less power and standing than women, it was children. The disciples, like society, try to push the children away to a place of insignificance. Jesus reaches out, beyond society’s marginalization, and touches them, blesses them. “It is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs”

Divorce marginalizes people today, makes them feel powerless and isolated. Even just talk of divorce, even dwelling on this reading can generate feelings of isolation. To the isolated, the powerless, the marginalized, Jesus brings touch, blessing and inclusion in the Kingdom of God.

So this Gospel passage speaks to everyone who feels powerless or isolated.

• People who are divorced and may carry lingering guilt, a feeling that they have failed expectations. Or who have known or perceived judgment by others or the church. 
• Divorce often leads to estrangements in all sorts of relationships, most sadly between children and parents. Isolated from family. 
• There are people who feel locked in a bad marriage, powerless for whatever reason to escape. 
• Think of all the people who yearn to be married but aren’t. For them divorce is a luxury they don’t even have access to because they are isolated from the world of marriage. Maybe they’ve never found the love of their life. Maybe circumstances like illness or handicap or other family needs or a job have blocked the possibility of marriage. Maybe someone more powerful has told them they can’t get married. Quibbling over the legalities of divorce only heightens their sense of isolation. 
• Or think of people grieving the death of someone with whom they were in a wonderful relationship. Debate over the possible choice to end a relationship only shines a glaring light on the loss they did not choose. 

Many things can leave us powerless or isolated. Divorce or debate over divorce is just one. But for all of these people for whom divorce or even just discussion of divorce is the cause of their isolation, their powerlessness, their marginalization.

To all of them. To you. To me. It is to such as these that the Kingdom of God belongs. That’s what Jesus says.

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost - September 30

Fall Pruning
Mark 9:38-50

The Gospel from Mark appointed for today reminded me of this passage from John’s Gospel: Jesus says, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit” (John 15:1-2). I’ll come back to that.

First, let’s work our way through today’s Gospel. It starts with the disciples acting rather adolescent, ratting on someone else who was healing in Jesus’ Name. They came to Jesus bragging about how they had tried to stop the interloper because he was not one of them.

Whether they were doing it intentionally or not, what they were doing was trying to limit the healing work of Christ in the world. And Jesus reprimands them. Anyone who is not against us is for us. Acting on behalf of Christ is commendable. No matter who is doing it.

And Jesus goes on to say that offering water (refreshment) to those acting on behalf of Christ will also bring its own reward. It is good to offer refreshment and support to anyone who is acting in Jesus’ name.

And, conversely, “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me…” well, the consequences will be dire.

The “little ones” Jesus refers to here may be children, as I mentioned last week. Or they may be people new to faith.

So far, Jesus is talking to the disciples about the growth of faith in others. And he says, don’t do anything to impede that growth. He is also talking about others beyond the circle of disciples doing the work of Christ. Again he says, nurture and support everything done in the Name of Christ; don’t impede it.

Then we get to what I think of as the real Halloween part of the Gospel, full of images of people presumably bloodied, stumbling around missing all sorts of body parts. The gore of this passage is very vivid. Don’t let your children read the Bible!

“If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire…” If your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out. If your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off.

A couple of modern commentators I read referred to Jesus’ hyperbole in this passage. He couldn’t have meant this literally; he was using hyperbole to make a point. So what was his point? What did he mean?

A well-established trend of commentary interprets this passage in Mark as a call to self-denial to avoid sin and eternal damnation. For example, Matthew Henry was a 17th century English Presbyterian minister, known particularly for his commentary on the entire Bible. First, he titles this specific portion of Mark, “Pain to be preferred to sin.” He writes: “Surely it is beyond compare better to undergo all possible pain, hardship, and self-denial here, and to be happy for ever hereafter, than to enjoy all kinds of worldly pleasure for a season, and to be miserable for ever.” It is “beyond compare” better to endure pain in this life in order to achieve happiness in eternal life.

The Greek word translated throughout this passage as “causes you to stumble” is our word scandalize. Modern translators shy away from that direct translation, I suspect, because scandal has come to have such sensational, “National Inquirer” sorts of overtones in contemporary usage. The King James translated it, “if your hand offends you…” “If you eye offends you…” And that’s the basic meaning of scandalize. But in this case the question is whether your own hand offends you.

Jesus’ challenge to the disciples and us is this: You who bear the name of Christ, you who strive to be the Body of Christ, are there parts of your life that are “offensive” to you? As a Christian, are there parts of your own life that are offensive to you?

Prune them out. And now I’m back to the passage from John. Jesus says, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit”

Jesus seems to like the pruning metaphor. He uses it in this passage from John and elsewhere in his teaching. I like pruning as a metaphor. Pruning is less about self-denial in order to achieve eternal bliss in the future, not that there is anything wrong with thinking about that. Pruning, though, is about improving health and growth now in this life. It’s about cleaning out the dead wood. Pruning out, clearing out the parts of our lives that are not alive with Christ. In order that the better parts of lives may bear greater fruit. The fruits of life in Christ are things like healing, hope, wonder, peace, renewal, reconciliation. Who would not want those more abundantly? Prune out the parts of your life that are dead to Christ so that the parts that are alive with Christ can bear greater fruit.

In my own experience it’s really pretty easy to tell which is which.

So prune your life. And pruning is not the same thing as just simplifying. Simplifying may or may not help. Pruning is selective. We are not called literally to pluck out an eye. Rather prune out those things that you watch with your eyes that are life-numbing or denigrate the holiness of life. We do not need to actually cut off a hand. But do prune out the things you do with your hand that are destructive or wasteful of God’s creation. We are not called to cut off a foot. Instead prune out all of the useless places in life your feet take you!

Jesus doesn't say anything about plucking out your heart or your mind, but I expect there are some things there that need pruning, too.  Harbored resentments, uncharitable thoughts, sins repressed and unconfessed.

And I’d like to stretch the pruning metaphor just a little further. There are several reasons that gardeners might prune a plant. Certainly the most important within my context today is to promote growth and health.

But gardeners also prune to improve the appearance of a plant. And that’s worth thinking about. If we prune our lives, our appearance may show forth the Gospel more clearly to the world. A pruned life may better display the love and light of the Gospel for others to see.

Sometimes gardeners prune or thin one plant so that other plants can grow… so that other plants can receive the light and nutrients they need to grow and flourish. Remember that in the early part of today’s Gospel, Jesus is concerned with how the disciples’ actions might limit or impede the Christian growth of life of other people. I don’t have specific examples in mind, but maybe the dead wood in your life or my life is not only limiting our own Christian flourishing but also crowding out or blocking the Christian growth of others.

So think about pruning your life. Prune out the dead wood. So that the fruit of a life in Christ may grow more and more abundantly in your life and in the world around you.