Readings for Lent 2C:
Genesis 15:1-12,17-18,
Philippians 3:17-4:1,
Luke 13:(22-30)31-35
March 4, 2007
The Rev. Dawn Teuthorn
St. Jude the Apostle Episcopal Church, Cupertino, CA
“How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing.” [Lk 13:34b]
I open with a quote Lindsay Jacobson shared with us in forum today by Phillips Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts in the Episcopal Church during the early 1890's.
“Do not pray for easy lives, but pray to be stronger men (women). Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers, but pray for power equal to your tasks. Then the accomplishing of your work shall be no miracle, but you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself and the richness of life which has come to you by the grace of God.”
These are powerful words from a man who made quite a difference, as we heard today. Our scripture is about the way in which God makes a big difference in our lives. How God helped Abram face fear — fear against all reason which said, despite the promise God had made long before, it didn’t look like he was going to be a man with many descendants. In our first lesson today, we hear Abram reassured, and again a covenant made by God that assures Abram that despite what he knows at this point, God will make for him descendants like those of the stars — God even brings him out in the darkness of the night just to see the light of the stars, and to behold the wonders of that beauty, and to proclaim his promise that indeed God will fulfill God's promise to Abram. There will be a people with whom God has a close relationship, and they will be a light to all people. We are all called to be in close relationship with this One who brings each one of us forth in birth — creating and molding us to be who we are, uniquely ourselves. It is this One who calls us forth and asks us to be in close relationship to God.
This is my first Lent with you — this particular community of faith. I love we began today's service by hearing the words Jesus chose to clarify the Decalogue: to love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your body, with all your mind; and, to love others as you are loved. Jesus put before us, in the reality and experience of Jesus, this--these words as he lives in close relationship with God, in spite of the adversity he faces. He was one with God and clear of God's purpose for him in his life. And, in that grounding, he then experiences the presence of God each and every day, and is given the power to withhold and withstand all struggles that he may face. Today, fear is presented to him — “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you” says the Pharisees. Jesus says “No”. It's not the first time we hear Jesus say no in the face of fear in order to specifically follow God's will, and God's will alone.
It's actually natural for us to learn how to say no. It's a part of being human, part of growing up and becoming separate from our parents. It's at least what we tell ourselves as parents when we first hear our beloved toddler exclaim, ‘No!’ When my guys were little, we had a song we’d sing when we got tired of hearing that infamous ‘no’. I had gotten used to hearing ‘no’ as a pre-school teacher, especially as teacher and assistant director of an infant/toddler center. ‘No!’ was commonly heard. This be said, there were times ‘No!” was wearisome. AT those times we would sing, ‘No no no no, no no no no, no no no no no no no no ... ’ By the time the song was over, they were laughing, and so were we. No is an important word to learn, and yet there's another step in development of faith that is required in order to be fully a part of the body, and that is in saying ‘yes’. Saying yes to one another in relationship to God and being about God's dance, God's will, God's way for our own lives, the lives of our community, and the world. It's not just for here, as we also heard so beautifully quoted, but beyond this place. It is this One who today confronts the unwillingness of those of Jerusalem, and presents to us this beautiful image - this idea that Jesus is longing to gather all ... just like that of a hen gathering her chicks. And yet, he says, ‘you are unwilling.’ It is so common for us to be unwilling to be gathered by God—to experience and feel God's Holy embrace made known to us specifically through Jesus Christ.
As we journey together this Lent and I try to catch up, having been on vacation when it began, I read the sermons for Ash Wednesday and last Sunday--“Making space for God.” Both were great. I found myself wondering what would be my transformational piece for this Lent - for every Lent seems to give to me an opportunity to grow and deepen in my faith, as I learn to say ‘yes’ and stop saying ‘no’ to God. So, today was one of those moments where serendipity, or as I call it ‘God's coincidence or providence’ occurred. As I was preparing for this sermon, I was immersed in this idea of God's Holy embrace, and confronted with a scene I’ve been confronted with before — only this time it ended differently. My son, my oldest, walked into the kitchen at 6:30am. To have a 16 year old bright and cheery this early in the morning is kind of an unusual thing. Yet, he was today and it was a delight, pure joy. He had showered and dressed, ready for church outside of having breakfast and I thought, ‘Yeah, we’re going to get there on time!’, (which we still were). He sat down at the table to eat his cereal and within seconds had it all over his lap, the table, and the floor. Now, I’m a good mom, I think. I’ve had lots of training about what it's like to use positive affirmations for my children, yet these scenes have often produced quite a different response. I am usually not very affirming, feeling very put upon, wanting to complain like a tornado — ‘OH, the things that have come my way now!’ It's a sad moment, and one I would love to transform, but I must say it's not without God's help that that's possible. The serendipity of the moment is that I was just sitting out at the table reading, yet again, a piece I’ll read for you in just a moment, about being open to a new way, being open to a new response, being open to God's love shining through. Today's scene with my children ended differently then it has before. I helped Ryan clean up. There was no yelling. There was no, ‘OH my gosh!’ It moved very quickly, and being who he is, I asked afterwards, ‘Ryan, so how was that?’ He looked at me saying, ‘Gooood, Mom!’ I had to agree. Here is what I ‘happened’ to be reading as he spilled his milk. It fits beautifully the gospel intent before us today in which, God in Christ reveals the power of God's eternal embrace, God's hug for each one of us.
Let me tell you a story from a dear (I say) Prophet, Charles Shultz, cartoonist, one who has taught, on many occasions, God's love.
In the first frame, imagine Lucy is standing next to a tree. Looking up, she shouts to Linus, as Lucy so well does, "What are you doing in that tree?"
Linus answers from the branches of the tree, "Looking for something." Then he adds, "Can you see Snoopy? We climbed up here together, but now I don't see him."
Lucy unsympathetically shouts back up to the tree, "Beagles can't climb trees."
The next frame shows Snoopy falling out of the tree right on his head with a loud "klunk." "You're right!" Snoopy concludes.
Then Lucy lets Snoopy have it, "You stupid Beagle, what are you doing climbing around in a tree?" Snoopy's sore head is still spinning.
Linus interrupts from the tree, "Don't yell at him.... We're trying to find a strange creature in a nest...."
Lucy walks off in a huff saying, "You're both crazy! Go ahead and knock yourselves out! I couldn't care less!!"
Then Snoopy with his head still sore and things still spinning says, "Rats...I was hoping for a hug!"
Reverend Brian Stoffregen (Exegetical Notes @ CrossMarks) writes in response to this comment in his exegetical notes:
“Do similar scenes happen to you? We hurt ourselves -- perhaps physically or emotionally. A parent, friend, pastor, parishioner gives us a lecture about how stupid we were. "Rats," we may say to ourselves, "I was hoping for a hug!" There are those times when what we need most is to know that somebody still cares and loves us, because we already know we have acted like jerks.
One of the most dreadful Christian sins is that we too often act like Lucy. We are too quick to open our mouths and give lectures to others. It is easy for us good and righteous believers to judge and condemn others for their stupid mistakes. (I do that. My kids will attest.) What compounds our sin is that we think that we are doing the proper and right thing by giving them all our good advice. "You shouldn't have done that. You should have known better. You're getting what you deserve." And so on. Sometimes people need good teaching. Jesus is often teaching the people, but many times, especially after making a stupid mistake, people feel more like Snoopy: "Rats...I was hoping for a hug!"
Offering an embrace is much more risky than lecturing. Suppose that when the demon-possessed man came to Jesus, Jesus just gave him a lecture about the evils of the occult. "You shouldn't have ever gotten involved with that kind of stuff, or those kind of people." That wouldn't have done the man any good. But with a lecture, we can keep our distance from other people. If they reject our wise advice -- they've rejected our wise advice. When we get close enough to people to really care about them, to offer an embrace as a gesture of love, and that is rejected, it is much more painful. They are rejecting us. "Don't touch me," says a spouse. "I'm too big for that," says a son.
When a daughter admits to her parents that she is pregnant, it's not the time for a lecture about morality. When a son admits to his parents that he is hooked on drugs, it's not the time for a lecture about the evils of addiction. When the police bring a child home after a car accident, it's not the time for a lecture on irresponsibility. Such people already know about the problems of immorality, addiction, and irresponsibility. They are in much more need of a sign of love and acceptance than judgment.”
Jesus is a power message of God's Holy embrace. God comes to us in one who loves us so much that even in the face of rejection, desolation, desertion, anger and violence, he was willing to open his arms wide and to embrace each and every one of us, willing or unwilling, into God's circle of love. It is this one who calls us forth this day, who embraces us no matter where we are, no matter what we're doing, who loves us for who we are, despite our failings and our shortcomings, even using our shortcomings and failings to strengthen the body, to strengthen the beauty of God through Christ, the Church. It's not in perfection that we succeed, but in our faltering and in our mistakes, as we humble ourselves before God, and allow God's grace to speak through our shortcomings and ‘failures’. It's not in knowing how good we are, but recognizing that in spite of whatever it is we bring to the table, God loves us. And in that experience of being so loved, we then can love and embrace. It is the gentleness of kindness. It is the care of a good word of love. It is that silent presence that can empower one to face those struggles, those inevitabilities of life, death, and life again. Just today, as I was coughing up a storm during communion in the first service, someone gently came and gave me a hug. I don't think I have ever experienced that in a service, in that way. This person wasn't asked to do it. This person felt compelled to do so. And, I must say, there was a moment's resistance in me. 'I don't need this!' And, yet, there was this other side of me that calmed in that presence, that care — deeply touched this person would reach out so immediately, so caringly. My heart was softened, and I found after this moment was over, I just wanted to cry. How sweet, how kind, what gentle a gesture that spoke volumes of God's love and grace!
This Lent, as we open ourselves to God's Holy embrace for us, we allow God to love us so deeply, so strongly, so powerfully. May our lives be transformed to be more loving, more gracious, more caring — to be a community centered in the love of God. May God bless us and keep us. May God's face shine upon us and be gracious unto us. God looks upon us all with favor and gives us peace. Amen.
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