How Full is Your Lamp?

Just before worship started, I was talking with someone about the modern understanding of the word, “Gospel.” Oftentimes today it is interpreted as “good news” and it is, and yet that good news is seen as being words that affirm and uplift us and tell us we’re ok. Yet sometimes, the other function of the gospel is to speak truth- a truth perhaps we need to hear, spoken in love but not comforting. If you came to church today expecting warmth and comfort from the lessons- Sorry.

This past Wednesday I asked the folks at Table Church to sit and wait for a minute. I’d like us to do that as well.

You all did pretty well, but the truth is many of us don’t like to wait. Including your pastor who as you noticed checked her watch pretty often. On Wednesday, about halfway through many were starting to fidget, and at the end of the minute a couple kids commented on how hard waiting is, especially without Xbox or something. And I suspect a couple adults were wondering what would happen to that hot food if the pastor was going to make us wait. That minute felt long. Waiting can be hard.

"What will we do while we wait?” is the question Matthew’s gospel is addressing today. We’re waiting for Jesus to return- much longer than Matthew's original hearers.

SO what should we learn today? HAVE ENOUGH OIL.

While that seems like something to do, I want to suggest that it is not just about cornering the market on something. The oil is not the kind we watch the news to see if prices are up or down. Literally it’s Olive oil. Perhaps you hadn’t thought this but, literally, the answer to, "What shall we do while we wait?" is "Make sure you have enough oil for your lamps."

In an age of electricity, where we no longer need to put oil in lamps, what can that mean?

The five foolish bridesmaids ran out of it and the five wise ones had enough to go the distance. But what does the oil represent?

Martin Luther thought it represented faith- don’t run out of faith. I don’t agree with Luther. Because Faith comes from God- can you run out of faith if God is the provider?

Others think that the oil represents good works. Don’t stop doing good works.  But then what of grace? Imagine the frenzy of last minute good deeds- that seems to suggest if we do enough, we earn it. I’m not sure good works is quite right. Which speaks a word to lots of people today focused upon community service, especially young adults. Good works are good-and we all could use all we can get. At the same time, when the project is done, what is beyond it? What is the sustaining presence for all the other moments? The ones without projects?

Still someone else suggested the oil seems to be a generic reference to faithful and obedient discipleship as defined by the whole gospel. To be like the slave who elsewhere actively, faithfully, and obediently carries out what he has been instructed to do. It’s about trust. But where do we buy more trust?

Obviously there is something to being active in waiting, and in trusting, but maybe it’s not about doing those things as much as its about not running out of the power to do them.* We who are told to tend the light are also told to go and be light for the world. We need a power that produces good deeds- the power needed to produce light. Maybe this parable is using "oil" to be our relationship with God, who is the source and power behind our good deeds and our trusting.

And then maybe we can ask- how full is our lamp? Perhaps some of us are burning brightly this day, or perhaps some of us are sputtering out. But one thing is sure- the lamp needs to be tended. Like any relationship. Our relationship with God requires our attention.

To borrow yet another relationship phrase- does your relationship with God have a spark? If you walked into Jesus would you feel like you know each other? Or would you sense only a faintly distant connection?

When our girls were little they only saw my parents at holidays and the rest of the year we faced the challenge of helping them remember who these people who were so eager to see them and bring gifts were. We’d talk about how their grandparents were coming. We’d get the house ready for them. But it took other ways of being in touch while we were waiting to keep their relationship current. Phone calls, pictures, videos, telling those distant relatives what they’ve been doing. Even though those deeds weren’t the basis of the relationship, they were part of letting the grandparents know who their grandkids are and vice versa. To a certain degree as parents we mediated the relationship until it was strong on its own.

“If we understand "oil" as having a close relationship with God -- the power behind our lives -- the power that gives us a "glow" as shining witnesses in the world -- we must acknowledge that it is possible to let that relationship "run out". When the bridegroom comes, it (seems) too late to try and establish the relationship.” And in that context when we hear that those frenzied bridesmaids came back they found the door closed perhaps it’s important to note that although the door was closed, we don’t hear who closed it.

We just know it was closed. God gives us a relationship and faith and while God never closes the door, we can. And while our salvation is assured, we can in this life lose the power and strength we need and long for in this life. Our relationship with Jesus – being known by Jesus- can’t be mediated through other people who have it. I can’t do that for Jane, for example, nor she for me. This is why the other bridesmaids cannot share their oil. Our relationship with God needs us to keep glowing. And as we hear in Amos, it’s about more than just going through the motions of worship an hour a week.

It’s a relationship- God longs for and indeed kindles the spark of our faith for much more. Our deeds then are a response and even help fan the flame, but our works are not the relationship.

Being disciples in this way with God means we are tending that relationship and doing what God desires in an ongoing way. It doesn’t mean we cannot rest- after all , all the bridesmaids rested. But it does mean constantly tending our relationship with God so it has the power and meaning and support we need to avoid panic and chaos.

God wants to have a personal relationship- one where we share our hopes and fears, and where God invites us to share in a meal that reminds each of us- this is “for you.” And the door is open.

God is always striving to establish that personal relationship. One where today matters not just someday- for us and for the world. While we wait we can know the power of encountering Jesus, entering now, inviting us in to participate and celebrate the many comings of the Christ: Jesus' presence in the Word; in the Sacrament;  in the gathering together; in our going out to make disciples; as we minister to the "least of these." This is what we are given to do and to experience. And it’s a lot.

Yet, these are also the connections with Jesus that keep our "lights" empowered for witness and service and keeps our relationship burning brightly. The truth is that we all at times are foolish, and we fail to tend those lamps as we should.  What continually enables us is what God continually gives, summed up in this prayer from St Claude de Columbiere I invite you to join in now. Let us pray:

Jesus, I feel within me  a great desire to please you  but, at the same time,  I feel totally incapable of doing this  without your special light and help,  which I can expect only from you. Accomplish your will within me-- even in spite of me.   AMEN

* Brian Stoffregen, Crossmarks

Take Heart, You're Not the Miracle

This past Sunday I served as supply pastor for the congregation of one of my colleagues who is recovering from an accident. Her recovery has taken longer than any of us would want and it is so obvious that her people adore her as their leader. And her love for them is profound. They know it will be longer still.

I was told there would probably not be kids but about 6 showed up and so I decided we would sit together and sing "Jesus Loves Me" which when someone asked, included the sign language. I asked that the first time we sing that verse with the word "me" but the second time with the word "us."

Which means that we ended up singing- "We are weak, but he is strong."
I think that was just a little hard for us sing, but important to hear as we remember why we gather as the church and where our power and strength come from.
We heard in our lessons in the Psalm to listen to what the Lord is saying, and in Romans to remember it is not our own heroic efforts that matter. And of course, Jesus and briefly, Peter, are walking on water.

I have to confess that I would have been a horrible disciple. For one thing, I get seasick. No one in their right mind would’ve wanted me in their boat. And there were way too many boat trips for that to go well. But I think the even bigger reason why I would not have been a good disciple is that I can be impatient. Not only were there all those boat trips but in Jesus’ day, it was a very different matter. There were no motors, no GPS, no technology. They were at the mercy of the wind, and the waves and the weather. Like we hear in our gospel today.

This is actually the second boat story in Matthew. In the first, the disciples are in the boat and they hit a serious storm, and the boat is literally about to capsize, and they fear they will drown. And Jesus is asleep in the boat with them. They wake him up screaming perhaps trying to save him or maybe hoping he’ll do something. And he calms the storm. And they wonder if he could more than a great rabbi- maybe he’s the Son of God?

This time around, Jesus has just finished a major miracle in their presence, the feeding of thousands, and he has sent them on ahead of him because he wants time apart to pray. He has sent them to cross the Sea of Galilee but as we hear, the wind is against them. The waters are choppy, and it is a rough go. If you’ve ever been on a rough boat ride, you know, that trip seem to take an eternity.

They left in the evening, and now it is early morning. They’ve been up all night trying to navigate, and they’re battered and frazzled and tired. It’s been maybe close to 12 hours and they should be there by now. But they’re not. They’re still far from where they want to be. And they are NOT with their leader.

They just want to get where they’re headed but they are somewhere in between feeling kind of helpless.

Perhaps you too in the absence of your beloved pastor feel that way. She should be better by now and you should be together moving on in the journey of wherever ministry is headed.

It’s no small wonder the disciples don’t recognize Jesus when he comes, given what they’ve been through. And really, who had ever seen a human walk on water. What can this be? Jesus says, “Take heart, it’s me.” And that’s miraculous.

But if it’s a miracle, Peter leaps to the conclusion he wants to be a miracle too- command me to do that! I want to walk on water!

And Jesus, ever patient, tells him to “Come.”

But Jesus didn’t command Peter to do it first. That was Peter.

Years ago there was a book written called “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Gotta Get Out of the Boat.” And when I was younger I loved that thought. Inspire people to get up and do something miraculous. Baloney. It can be easy to step out in faith, but a sustained faith takes more than us.

Peter steps out in faith but can’t sustain that faith by his own heroic efforts. He gets distracted- first by believing he is the miracle. And then when he blinks and realizes that while he is walking, the wind and the seas are still rough- he loses his nerve when we remembers the world around him. He takes his focus off of Jesus and that’s when he begins to sink.  

And Jesus could have let him. Jesus could have proclaimed this is Peter’s epic fail. But instead when Peter cries out, “Save me!” he reaches out his hand and puts him back in the boat. Take heart- the seas are calmed. Because I am here. And this time the disiples say- truly Jesus is the Son of God! And they’re further in their journey.

My Mom works as a hospice volunteer, and one of the things she talks about is the heart to heart hug. It’s a hug that focuses on the fact your heart and the patient’s heart touch in that hug that calms fears, and anxieties and shows love. I kind of imagine as Peter is hauled into the boat again, there is that moment where he gets a heart to heart hug to reassure him. As Jesus does what he always does- reaches out a hand- the hand that feeds, blesses, heals, saves and forgives.

I take heart that the disciples are a group that seem to have moments that they seem to grasp just who Jesus is, and then a whole bunch of moments where they clearly don’t, and then another moment where they clearly see God and then even colossal failures where they don’t. Because I think we are that way too.

But in all of those moments where we struggle to see Jesus in our midst, Jesus continues reaching out and meeting us and touching our hearts. Restoring, encouraging, saving us.

And I think as ever it’s important for us to remember that we are not the miracle. It is not up to any of us to be the miracle. Christ is the miracle in our lives. Who calls us to also remember that our focus should be upon Jesus and staying in the boat together as the church.

We don’t know the timing of the journey. And there are times we struggle to see God at work. But this gospel reminds us that the God who is powerful enough to command waves is also a God whose never ending desire is to continually reach out a hand and save us. A God who sees us through the tough times and promises there is more to the story.

May you take heart and be strengthened in hope that God will bring you to the next moments in ministry together.

 

baptism of our Lord sermon

Today we commemorate the baptism of Jesus by John and the revelation comes forth- this is my beloved son. God’s identity made known and a declaration- he belongs to me. And because of Jesus we too hear those words at our baptism- you are my beloved child.  And the water fills and is emptied. And we are filled with God. We too belong to God. But this belonging at its richest calls us to be emptied, of our egos, and our longings. To be filled with the Spirit and sent forth to be emptied so that God might be revealed. Trusting that the one thing we will never lose is our identity as God’s beloved child. Could we let everything else up to God’s vision? This week I asked people what one thing they would do differently in response to remembering that we belong to God. And the answer that stuck with me was this- I’d listen to my heart where Jesus resides and follow where it leads, no matter how "crazy" it seems. Normally we walk away from “crazy” or at least talk ourselves out of it.  

I know it must have seemed crazy to John. Jennifer Peterson Singh writes, “Frankly I share John’s confusion when I feel God calling me. John’s words “Why have you come to me?” are often mine. I don’t know why God would want me and I don’t know if I even understand what I’m being called to do. Don’t you wish God still gave us a star to follow? Truthfully, she says, I probably need a giant neon sign in the sky.” Because we come to the place where we encounter Jesus and like John we come mostly prepared to think of our own wants, and for God to fill us up to be more the selves we want to be. To fill out the picture think we should see. But Jesus comes in a very different way.  There will be a picture but it’s not the one you think. He will empty himself and then will stand totally in our world with us, to reveal God and to take root in us. And give us the example of what it means to express our identity as beloved and claimed and empowered. As children of God. Loved not for what we have but whose we are.

 

One of 2013’s new movies is “Philomena” based upon the real life story of Philomena Lee. Pregnant as a teenager in Ireland in 1952, Lee was sent to a convent to be looked after as a “fallen woman.” She gave birth to a son. She and other young mothers were forced to work in the convent laundry, seeing their children once a day. But at around age 3, her son was put up for adoption by the nuns and taken away to America. Despite being shamed she held on and she spent the next fifty years searching for son in vain. Then she met a political journalist who happened to be intrigued by her story. Together they set off on a crazy journey to America that would not only reveal the extraordinary story of Philomena’s son, but also create an unexpectedly close bond between them. Two very different people, at different stages of their lives, help each other to tell her son that he was her child and he was loved. The book written was a catalyst for thousands of adopted Irish children and their ‘shamed’ mothers to come forward to tell their stories and encourage the many still searching for their lost families. For 50 years she kept his existence a secret. Because the world’s version of the story was that it should be erased from her heart. But inside she knew she was loved not for what she’d done but whose she was. And that he must know his identity.  

Lee says telling the story is a challenge because she normally led a very quiet family life, but now she's fully aware of the power of her story on film.  And at the heart of it is a message that you are beloved. As timeless as that day Jesus showed up at the Jordan River.

What one thing might you do differently as you remember that you belong to God?  “Listen to my heart where Jesus resides and follow where it leads no matter how “crazy” it seems.” Baptism creates that space where Jesus comes to dwell in our hearts, empowering the new life that is coming to be. To make known that God desires not only to forgive but to transform over and over again. Water is emptied and we are filled with the Holy Spirit and the declaration that we are God's children.

Baptism is a beginning, but being baptized finds its purpose in what follows – emptying ourselves in a calling to God's way of doing things in a world that often resists, but is always changed by those who seek to walk God's path. God sees our hesitance and feelings of confusion or unworthiness, but continues to remind us who we are and empower us for what God wants us to be and to do. That sense of being beloved carries us through confusing times and joyous times, giving hope and fulfilling God’s vision. Not just for doing good and feeling good, but the justice and righteousness God calls us into. Continually transforming us and the world so everyone gets a fair shot. Reorienting us to become involved, to change the processes that keep people trapped on the margins of society. Even when it seems crazy. Because you’re loved not for where you are on the journey but whose you are.

Come to be filled with the Holy Spirit and reminded of Christ within us. Filled for emptying that transformation out upon God’s world. This is celebrating what Jesus first revealed and brought forth and brings forth still. Water and word, filling and emptying. Calling us to let go and be filled. Over and over again. And we never do it alone, Jesus says. Let US do this now to God’s purposes. Things we could never even imagine doing on our own. Emptying, filling, giving ourselves away. Loved not for what we have but whose we are.  Beloved, every day brings something new. And every day is a holy day when we recall Christ’s baptism and our own again. May we be filled again with the desire to be filled by God and God alone, and to walk the disciple's road. AMEN

 

 

 

 

 Suscipe-

Take Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory,

 my understanding,

 and my entire will --

 all that I have and call my own.

 You have given it

 all to me.

 To you, Lord,

 I return it.

 Everything is yours;

 do with it

 what you will.

 Give me only your love

 and your grace.

 That is enough

 for me.  Ignatius of Loyola