Ordinary Time

Proper 19A: Beginning Again

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Parting of the Red Sea, Chagall
Parting of the Red Sea, Chagall

OLD TESTAMENT: Exodus 14: 19-31

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=276696318

(OK, first of all, clear all images of Charlton Heston out of your mind.) Keep in mind that main themes of the Book of Exodus—liberation, law, covenant, and presence. Chapter 14 comes near to the end of the narrative of liberation. Once again we have an angel in the story, which has not happened since the burning bush. The cloud is both before and behind Israel as a sort of “protective screen.” The cloud takes the place of the fire of the bush, providing light as well as covering. Then, just as the Lord had commanded, Moses drives back the waters and creates a dry path for the escaping Israelites. Just as the waters were parted in the midst of Creation, they are parted here in this newness of recreation. In this moment, the Israelites are being liberated. And on top of that, the Egyptians are also forced to know that which even the Israelites had in some way doubted before. As Egypt comes to this confession, God is indeed acknowledged as the sovereign one. Then, also as God commanded, Moses unleashes the waters and chaos returns. They Egyptians are helpless against it.

According to this narrative, Yahweh has broken the power of Egypt and the power of slavery. The story is told in order to summon Israel to faith, even in the face of one’s enemies.   And faith points to liberation and transformation. Jewish interpreters understand that Moses had asked for a three-day pilgrimage for the people and Pharaoh obliged. It wasn’t until they didn’t return at the end of the three days that the Egyptians began pursuing them. Perhaps even these people , enslaved for centuries, had a hard time imagining total freedom. Perhaps they needed to imagine it in what could be characterized as a tiny sound byte.

The truth is that this is a hard Scripture to stomach on many. We struggle with the image of one’s own liberation and freedom coming at the expense of others. Maybe that’s part of the point. Darkness is everywhere in this world. And so is beauty. There is an almost poetic juxtaposition of the two at every turn of our lives. And because of that, sometimes our salvation comes in the midst of another’s exile; and often our own exile comes in the midst of another’s salvation. I mean, how many times have you heard someone proclaim praise that our area was “spared” a hurricane? And yet, the hurricane grounded itself somewhere. The fire burned down some path. The waters closed over someone. There was someone that was not spared. God is not only present with those on the side of salvation. God is also present in the darkness. Don’t you think God was there in that water with the Egyptians just as God was there in those crumbling towers? We do not have to be “good” or “right” or even “spiritual”. God is always there. But true freedom, true liberation only comes with that realization.

So, as we remember a devastation much closer to home this coming week, it is good for all of us to remember what happened after the well-known parting of the sea: the waters returned to normal, crashing into each other as the Israelites realized that the chaos of life is always there. But just as the waters come together, we find ourselves standing on the other shore—transformed, liberated, free to move to a new place, to open up a world to the miracle of infinite possibility.

 

A few days ago I came across a note from a friend, an Episcopalian priest who had been run out of his parish by its leaders, the punishment voted upon him as a result of having faithfully done his job. “Your sermons are too political. We don’t want to hear what’s wrong with the world. And we don’t want to hear what’s wrong with us. Just tell us God loves us and leave it at that,” they told him. When he couldn’t leave it at that – anymore than Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr. or Jesus could have before him, they insisted he resign. And his bishop supported their decision.

 

Being faithful to the gospel, having faith in himself meant heading for the Red Sea, not knowing what would happen next. Standing firm for the man he was and for the God who had called him – between the devil and the deep blue sea.

 

There comes a time for all of us when we must find out whether we have what it takes. That moment when we break free of the oppressive circumstances that have held us captive for so long and stand before an uncertain future. When matching the enemy blow for blow is not an option. When no one can see a way for us to the other side. When we must simply reach down within ourselves and find that source of fearlessness, dignity and integrity. The place that literally in-spires us to be more than we know.

 

It is then that a path opens before us in recognition of that which we were prepared to believe, a way out of what seemed an impossible dilemma into that new day that God alone can provide.  (Excerpt from “Keeping the Faith in Babylon”, by Barry J. Robinson, available at http://www.spirit-net.ca/sermons/a-or24-keeping.php, accessed 8 September, 2011.)

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. How difficult is it for us to imagine “total transformation”? What, for us, does that entail?
  3. From what “exile” is it hard for us to leave? 

 

NEW TESTAMENT: Romans 14: 1-12

To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

This passage continues with the theme of God’s call to worship, holiness, and unity. The opening implies that Paul has become aware of disputes and dissensions within the community. He begins with the issue that probably lay at the heart of it all—the argument over whether or not the rules of Torah, the dietary laws, should be set aside. For Paul, these laws were probably no longer necessary. But he still warned against judging those who adhered to the laws. Rather, the Lord embraces all.

The next section has to do with the observance of special days, time-honored holy days. There seems to be an underlying warning against observing special days for the wrong reasons, something Paul would have attributed to paganism. He resolves that if anything is done to glorify God, it is rightly done. That is what living as a Christian means—to do everything that you do to honor and glorify God. The world will not know us by our perfect harmony; the world will know us by our love.

Paul is writing to people who despised each other, who judged each other based on their religious beliefs. They argued about holy days; they argued about proper food; they argued about whose belief was the “right” one. Can you imagine? But also keep in mind that, compared to us today, they were in the minority. Christians could lose jobs, become estranged from their families, and be vilified by the community. So fear was rampant. You know, fear does things to people. It’s hard to be the unified Body of Christ when you don’t trust each other. It’s hard to be the unified Body of Christ when rules and right beliefs become more important than our neighbors. It’s hard to be the unified Body of Christ when we can’t talk to each other or be with each other. In a sermon entitled “From Commandments to Commitments”, Rev. Ignacio Castuera tells this story:

 

A Rabbi and a Roman Catholic Priest were sitting next to each other at an Inter-faith event. When dinner was served someone thoughtlessly had placed a slab of ham in the Rabbi’s plate. The Rabbi did not protest but simply proceeded to eat other things his faith and physician permitted. The Roman Catholic padre leaned over in the direction of the Rabbi and said. “Rabbi Cohen, you and I know that the dietary laws from the Old Testament were developed at a time when pork meat was indeed dangerous due to lack of refrigeration and low heat in cooking. Of course trychinosis was rampant and your ancestors in the faith were right in prohibiting eating pork in order to save the lives of many Israelites. Those days are gone, pork is safe and there is no reason to cling to outmoded ancient practices. When will you eat your first mouthful of ham, Rabbi Cohen?” The Rabbi paused briefly and then responded, “at your wedding, Father Maguire, at your wedding” (From “From Commandments to Commitments”, by Rev. Ignacio Castuera, available at http://day1.org/717-from_commandments_to_commitments, accessed 7 September, 2011.)

 

Essentially, Paul is saying, “Fine, do what you want to do; Live out your faith in whatever way is best for you; Live by whatever rules you want to live by. Just remember that those are not your faith; they are window dressing, ways that we order our own understanding of who God is. They are fine for you and we applaud your commitment. But faith is about relationships. Faith is about being the Body of Christ.” No where in this passage does Paul proclaim a “right” or orthodox theology by which we should live. He just tells us to get out of ourselves and back to God. He just tells us to get back to being the Body of Christ.

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does it mean for you to “be the Body of Christ”?
  3. To what issues in today’s religious world could this speak?
  4. How do you hear this in light of our 09/11 remembrance of this week? 

 

GOSPEL: Matthew 18: 21-35

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

This passage continues the broad section of the writer Matthew’s version of the Gospel that has to do with life together as a new community. First the writer reflected on the consideration of those who are “young in the faith”, then church discipline, and, now, the idea of forgiveness and grace. At the beginning, Peter’s proposal to forgive seven times sounds pretty generous, especially since there is not even a mention of repentance by the other party. But Jesus goes far beyond that. The Greek number hepta can be understood as “seventy times seven” or four hundred ninety times. The difference between the two proposals is not merely mathematical; it goes beyond that. It is a matter of grace, of mercy, of forgiveness. Whoever counts has not really forgiven at all. The forgiveness called for here goes beyond all calculation. Jesus then continues with a parable.

Here, the “servant” is not a household slave, but a subordinate official, perhaps a sort of supervisor or foreman. The debt, here, was incurred through mismanagement of the king’s resources, not by personal expenditures. The figure used is not a realistic one. A talent is the largest monetary unit, approximately equal to the wages of a laborer for fifteen years. The term for “ten thousand” is the largest possible number. We could translate it as “myriad”, something that can’t even be counted or calculated. The combination of the two (ten thousand talents) is the largest figure that can be given. The amount is beyond all calculation. The debt, then, is essentially unpayable. The servant’s situation is hopeless. He asks for mercy and beyond all expectation, the king shows him compassion.

The debt of the fellow servant, though, is microscopic. If you want to take it literally, a hundred denarii is about 1/600,000th of the first servant’s debt. The point, though, is that there is an infinite contrast. It’s still about 100 days labor and the servant cannot pay it. But the servant who had received such infinite compassion chose not to show even a tiny fraction of the same.

So the king takes back the forgiveness and condemns him to torment. The point is that in order to receive full forgiveness, one must be willing to forgive; otherwise it is invalidated. You could say that if one does not forgive, they have never really received forgiveness in the first place.

So what is the deal with all this math? It is because math depicts wholeness. In a book that he wrote about mathematical archetypes found throughout nature, art, and science, Michael Schneider contends that mathematics can be divided into three levels or approaches.

The first he calls “secular” mathematics. It is the math that is taught in school, that even within our limited scope, can be proved as true. It includes 2+2, calculating the amount of your change from a purchase, or telling time. This is the math approach that Peter was proposing: just count them—seven times.

The second approach is what Schneider calls “symbolic” mathematics. It is the understanding that numbers and shapes relate to each other in harmonious patterns. It is those patterns that make up all that is life.

The final level, as Schneider lays it out, he calls “sacred mathematics”. It is those things that move us beyond our own consciousness, beyond what is expected, beyond what we have been able to prove, or plan, or lay out as an accepted expectation. This is what Jesus was using. You see, seven is one of the most venerated numbers. In sacred understandings, seven is used to comprise completeness, a whole, a reconciliation. Think of the seventh day of Sabbath or the seventh year of Jubilee. And then on top of that, the multiplier of ten represents a new beginning, a new being beyond all limits. Seventy-seven times? It is a way of completing and beginning again. But you have to let it go to do that.

…What is forgiveness without reunion, or at least the possibility of reunion? And yet there are consequences to our actions. I was fascinated to speak with a Hindu colleague of mine about the concept of karma in her faith. “Every human choice has moral fallout,” she explained. “If you harm me, then there will be consequences for you as well as for me. You may have a change of heart later and ask me to forgive you, but even if I forgive you from the bottom of my heart, I cannot change your karma. You made a choice, which has had its effect. Eventually, you, too, will experience its full effect.” 

This is a scary idea for some Christians who like to think of forgiveness as a giant eraser on the blackboard of life. But there is biblical precedent for the lasting effect of sins that have been forgiven. God forgave David for his murderous affair with Bathsheba, but their firstborn child still died. Jesus came to forgive the sins of the whole world, but according to this parable in Matthew 25, he will come again to separate the sheep from the goats.

 Forgiveness is a starting place, not a stopping place. It is God’s gift to those who wish to begin again, but where we go with it is up to us. (Barbara Brown Taylor, Speaking of Sin, p. 89-90)

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What impact on your understanding of forgiveness does this make?
  3. How do you reflect on this passage in light of our 09/11 remembrance? 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

Forgiveness is not an occasional act; it is a permanent attitude. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies. (Martin Luther King, Jr.)

 

In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t. (Blaise Pascal)

 

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. (Louis L’Amour)

 

 

Closing

We prattle about your sovereignty; all about all things working together for good, all about your watchful care and your severe mercies.

 

And then we are drawn up short; by terror that strikes us, in our privilege, as insane; by violence that shatters our illusions of well-being; by death that reminds us of our at-risk mortality; by smoke and fire that have the recurring smell of ovens.

 

We are bewildered, undone, frightened, and then intrude the cadences of these old poets: the cadences of fidelity and righteousness; the sounds of justice and judgment; the images of Sodom and Gomorrah; the imperatives of widows and orphans.

 

Even on such a day we are not minded to yield on your sovereignty. We are, we confess, sobered, put off, placed in dread, that you are lord as well as friend, that you are hidden as well as visible, that you are silence as well as reassuring.

 

You are our God. That is enough for us…but just barely.

 

We pray in the name of the wounded flesh of Jesus. Amen.

 

(“Even On Such A Day”, by Walter Brueggemann, written September 11, 2001, in Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth, p. 37)

Proper 18A: The Holiest of Tensions

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TensionOLD TESTAMENT: Exodus 12: 1-14

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, click here

This reading gives the instructions to the Israelites as they prepared to flee from the Pharaoh and Egypt. It follows and interrupts the narrative about the plagues that came upon Egypt. After Moses’ numerous objections to his calling, he finally returns to Egypt with his brother Aaron. Pharaoh rejects Moses’ pleas for leniency to the Israelites. Throughout this story, there is an underlying question of whether or not the Israelites will return to the worship of the God who gave them life or turn to the powers that be, the way of life to which they have become accustomed in this time of bondage.

The story of the Passover actually begins in the preceding chapter with Yahweh declaring that he will pass through the land and the first born of every house (both human and animal) will die. This is the tenth plague. Only the Israelites will be spared. The description of the festival itself more than likely comes from a later period once the festival was established.

The symbolic acts of eating the lamb, cooked as directed, unleavened bread, and bitter herbs all serve to remind of that event that God initiated, even though it was questionable as to whether they deserved it. The selection of the sacrifice is to be a perfect specimen. Nothing is to be left. The animal is wholly consecrated for a sacred purpose. The whole act of celebrating the Passover is an act of participation. It implies a full participation in what God offers. (We would call is discipleship.)

Most importantly, the Israelites are released from bondage. And this shows that God will go to all lengths to save a people, challenging the powers of earth. The story teaches us the most fundamental truth about God—this is the God who has brought you out of Egypt, whatever that may be. So each Spring from then on, in the first month on the fourteenth day of the month, each household is to set aside a kid (either a lamb or a young goat), butcher it, roast it, and eat it. And the blood of that lamb is to be smeared on the two doorposts and the lintel of the doorway as a sign of God’s saving grace then and now. And all who partake in this remembrance will also participate in the freedom that God offers—from sin, from bondage, from all of those things that hinder one’s relationship with God.

Later in this chapter, the writer of Exodus says, “And when your children ask you, “What do you mean by this observance?” you shall say, “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, for he passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, when he struck down the Egyptians but spared our houses. And the people bowed down and worshiped.” As we are told in our Gospel accounts, it is thought by most people that Jesus was participating in this Passover feast on that last night before his Crucifixion. It was his last supper. It was the way that he focused himself and reoriented himself before God. And each time we take the bread, each time we drink of the common cup, we do the same. We remember the freedom that we as Christians have been shown through Christ—freedom from sin, freedom from bondage, freedom from all of those things that hinder one’s relationship with God. “Do this in remembrance of me… And when your children ask you, “What do you mean by this observance?” you shall say, “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, for he passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, when he struck down the Egyptians but spared our houses. And the people bowed down and worshiped.”

When I was in Israel, our guide told us that there were three “defining moments” in history for the Jewish people, three points at which their identity as people of God was solidified and renewed before God—the first was the Passover, the second was Masada, (look at http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Judaism/masada.html ) and the third was the Holocaust. They are all looked upon as symbols of freedom and survival (even in the face of death and destruction). They are all symbols of God’s eternal grace and presence. They are all, in essence, accounts of Crucifixion and the freedom to which it led. It is the beginning of a whole new identity in which we participate.

 Can you imagine the logistical nightmare that Moses was handed? He had to tell the entire nation of Israel that they each had to 1) take a perfect year-old lamb, 2) on the 10th of the month, 3) and slaughter it on the 14th of the month at twilight, 4) roast it with bitter herbs, 5) don’t have any leftovers, 6) and eat with sandals and staff, 7) hurriedly. Oh, and by-the-way don’t forget to put some of the lamb’s blood on your doorpost—or the angel of death with snuff you out. I can’t even imagine standing in front of a congregation of 150 people and giving those instructions, and expecting anyone to really take me seriously.

Someone in the church would think they had a better lamb recipe—there’s a great one in the parish cookbook, you know. Someone else always hates to be in a hurry, and prefers to jabber through meals. (We all know who that is…) And, someone would check the calendar on their iPhone and realize that they have a conference call on the 14th at twilight—how’s the 15th work for you?

Low ball estimates for the population of the Israelites, come in around 20-40,000.

That’s a lot of people to get a recipe to. In fact, that’s a lot of lambs being slaughtered at the same time. Why all the attention to detail? Why the logistical nightmare? Because this meal is the beginning point of a whole new identity for this community, the People of God.

“This month shall mark for you the beginning of months.” It’s a whole new beginning, for a people who needed a do-over. These were the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—they are the children and inheritors of the Promise of God, the Covenant—and they had been reduced to brick-making-slaves. They needed something to help them begin to break away from everything they knew, and start over. Like a wedding reception. Like a 50th surprise birthday party. Like a baby shower. Only bigger. Life on the other side of the split sea, on the other side of slavery, would be completely different—and they were going to do it together—and with the help of God.

This meal would begin to form them into a new kind of people, almost like a group process exercise on a high ropes course. And, the fact that God would ask them to have this meal over and over again into perpetuity would solidify their new identity.

Until, of course, the People of God needed another do-over. And so on the night before Jesus died, he sat down at table to have this meal once again, and offered his own Body and Blood. (Fr. Rick Morley, “Dinner and a Do-Over”, available at http://www.rickmorley.com/archives/807?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=proper18aot, accessed 30 August, 2011.) 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. Why do you think this story is so significant?
  3. What does this story mean for you?
  4. What does the term “liberation” mean for you?
  5. What does Communion mean for you in the context of this passage?

  

NEW TESTAMENT: Romans 13: 8-14

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=276688847

This text lifts up the importance of love as the law’s fulfillment. But it sets up love not as an “ought” but because God’s love is about to dawn. Love is the fulfillment of what will be. Paul offers the rule of “love your neighbor as yourself” as the example of God’s righteousness revealed in Christ. Such love would never violate any human law, never do wrong to a neighbor.

His purpose for writing here is probably to avoid anarchy in the Christian community and unnecessary persecution by the Roman government. But Paul also assumes that all who read this share with him the view that history is reaching its climax and coming upon the return of Christ. Essentially, Paul is saying that love is bigger than all the observances and all the commandments.

This is not meant to be some sort of passive, “lie down and take it” type of love. I don’t think Paul would be so overly sentimental (Have you read Paul???) as to compel people to just take what the Roman Empire hands them in love. He’s saying, rather, that you are to be different. God’s justice and God’s Kingdom do not fit with the “rules” of this world. It is different. It is the way we are called to be. And, according to Paul, it is about to dawn. It is time to get ready now, to BE part of that Kingdom even now. It does not mean just putting your head down and paying your taxes and shutting up; it means bringing the Kingdom of God to be. Paul is acknowledging that it is hard to live in the Empire, to live in a place that, if you really become who you should be, is one in which you do not “fit”. But the verb here that the NRSV translates as “put on” is similar to “putting on” clothes, in essence clothing oneself in Christ and looking toward the dawn. (It means that if you really shape yourself to “put on” the clothes of Christ, the “old clothes” will no longer fit!)

We cannot view the word “owe” here in material, “of this world” terms. It is not getting one’s “due” or getting justice in terms of this world and the way we define justice. It is bigger. It means realizing that you are called out to be God’s Kingdom, whether or not that is fair or just or even seemingly possible in this world. We are connected to a deeper and more abiding allegiance, a deeper and more eternal freedom. It is more than just “loving one’s neighbor” the way we think in terms of this world. It means entering that love and journeying toward the dawn together. It means “putting on” a new identity, “putting on” the image of Christ. 

The world is, to a degree at least, the way we imagine it. When we think it to be godless and soulless, it becomes for us precisely that. And we ourselves are then made over into the image of godless and soulless selves. If we want to be made over into the image of God—to become what God created us to be—then we need to purge our souls of materialism and of other worldviews that block us from realizing the life God so eagerly wants us to have…The Powers are inextricably locked into God’s system, whose human face is revealed by Jesus. They are answerable to God. And that means that every subsystem in the world is, in principle, redeemable…The gospel, then, is not a message about the salvation of individuals from the world, but news about a world transfigured, right down to its basic structures. (From The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millenium, by Walter Wink (1998), p. 8, 33, 36.)

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. How do you hold this writing against the Passover passage in Exodus?
  3. How does this passage speak to unity?
  4. How does this passage speak to us about the “empire” in which we live?

  

GOSPEL: Matthew 18: 15-20

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

The passage that we read begins by telling us how to deal with those who sin against us. Now keep in mind, this is not talking about those who merely disagree. It is giving us a directive for talking to someone who has wronged us—first talk to them alone, then with some others present, and if that doesn’t work, just let it go. Here, the offended person is to take the initiative. Perhaps, it implies, the person doesn’t even realize what they did. You will notice that this is not an act of revenge or “getting even”. There is nothing personal implied here. This is instead a reconciliatory act on behalf of the community. It is an act of holy conversation.

According to the passage, when it is all said and done, all decisions and acts are ratified, all judgments are made by that which is divine. The important thing here is not the winner or the loser of the argument but, rather, the unity and reconciliation of the community. Because it is through community, through the gathering of even two or three, that the presence of Christ, that the heart of God, is found.

The older, albeit “non-inclusive”, translations of this passage began, “If your brother sins against you…” In some way, that is more poignant. It implies someone with whom you have a relationship, a sort of intimacy. It is not just some unnamed person. It is someone that really hurt. If THAT person sins against you, then talk to them. Don’t let it fester. Don’t, under any conditions, let it destroy the relationship. That is what community is about.

But notice that it also doesn’t say that you have to agree with each other. Where did we ever get in our church life or our church tradition that we had to agree? The directive here is calling for a sort of “holy conversation”, a holy tension, if you will. Have you ever made bread? I don’t mean the stuff out of that can that I have to pound on the corner of my front step to open. I mean real yeast bread. Once you get the dough all mixed up, you don’t just pour it into a pan. You have to knead it, digging deep into its very core and turning it this way and that so that it softens and clings together. Then you let it rest. You let it go. Then you do it again and perhaps again, coming up with much softer more supple dough. Once you form the dough into a loaf, you pinch all the ends tightly to create a seal. You know what that does? It creates a tension so that the gas from the yeast expands up and out evenly. Otherwise the dough just lays flat in the pan. It is the tension that allows it to form into what it is supposed to be. It is that holy tension that forms us into community and into what we are supposed to be.

It is not about orthodoxy; it is not about “church law”; it’s not even about the United Methodist Discipline! (Aghast!, you proclaim!) In fact, it’s not even, I would contend, what the Bible “says”. (After all, the Bible according to whom—Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Paul, Micah, the Prophet Isaiah, those followers and disciples who stuck other’s names on their work, or that old sage we call “oral tradition”.) The point is, the Bible is all of those. It’s a holy conversation filled with holy tension. It’s about relationship. It’s about realizing how God’s vision of us and of this community we call the world engages and understands God’s Presence. And to do that we have to understand it through historical tradition, out and out reason, and our own experience. (Hmmm! Scripture…tradition…reason…experience—someone should write that down!) Most importantly, it’s about our relationship as a community of faith, the community that is indeed clothed in Christ.

 

Matthew 18:15-20 is one of many scripture texts that have been used to harm others. These six verses are not meant to be a declaration of power, nor do these verses mean that if two or three people agree on something, then they can ignore others and do whatever they want. These six verses are about listening and accountability and about a larger vision of God’s kingdom…We must listen to and read texts like these carefully and honor the questions and tensions they raise for us. If we listen with “new ears” we always will hear something different from what we expect. That’s why Jesus uses hyperbole: to help the disciples hear the gospel of God’s love indifferent ways, through different experiences, with different language and images. If the Bible is a closed word and merely an answer book, then we’re in trouble. We’ll continue to use scripture to attack others and thus perpetuate violence against one another and justify such harm in God’s name. In this, we will limit God. That’s not an exaggeration.

Jesus could have used his power to tell the disciples exactly what he thought of their question, but he chose to listen, to open up conversation and to teach. The Bible invites us to enter into an ongoing conversation of Christians who struggle with what it means to live faithfully in relationship and to look beyond ourselves. Jesus’ exaggeration in this text goes beyond what the disciples can comprehend and what we can comprehend: it goes beyond the tokenism of inclusiveness to a radical inclusivity where we take the other seriously, listen to the other, and dare trust that he or she belongs in God’s love as much as we do. (From “A Careful Read”, by Deanna Langle, in The Christian Century, August 23, 2005, available at http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3263, accessed 30 August 2011.)

 

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. How, then, do we deal with conflict in a community?
  3. What does it mean to call ourselves a “community of faith” or a “community clothed in Christ”?

  

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 Religion is about transcendence, and spirituality is about finding meaning in the mundane. (Joan Chittister, In Search of Belief)

 

I think we’re living in one of the most significant historical moments ever. We are living at a time in which we must recognize both the limits and the opportunities of the modern world view. The modern world view, particularly in the past hundred years or so, has lured the Western mind away from its spirit. Our attention has been diverted away from the inner domains, the realms of true religion and spirituality, to the outer world. The technological world view, a scientifically-based world view, a rational world view has become the dominant ethos of our times. Many people feel that far too often organized religions, particularly in this country, have in fact been a little too seduced by that materialistic force. Many people have felt that in our churches and in our synagogues, we’ve found more talk, more attention paid to the external aspects of life, to the hierarchy of a religion, or to the rules of the outer world, than to the inner experience of religion itself. (Marianne Williamson, in The Life of Meaning: Reflections on Faith, Doubt, and Repairing the World)

 

Christianity is not being destroyed by the confusions and concussions of the time; it is being discovered. (Hugh E. Brown)

 

Closing

 

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name? Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same? Will you let my love be shown, will you let my name be known, will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?

 

Will you leave yourself behind if I but call your name? Will you care for cruel and kind and never be the same? Will you risk the hostile stare, should your life attract or scare? Will you let me answer prayer in you and you in me?

 

Will you love the “you” you hide if I but call your name? Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same? Will you use the faith you’ve found to reshape the world around, through my sigh and touch and sound in you and you in me?

 

Lord, your summons echoes true when you but call my name. Let me turn and follow you and never be the same. In your company I’ll go where your love and footsteps show. Thus I’ll move and live and grow in you and you in me. (“The Summons”, words by John Bell, The Faith We Sing # 2130)