Community

Proper 5B: Family Reunion

shelliwilliamsLeave a comment

UnityOLD TESTAMENT: 1 Samuel 8: 4-11, (12-15), 16-20, (11: 14-15)

To read the Old Testament Lection, click here

The setting of the writing that we know as 1 Samuel depicts a different Israel, one in the midst of a sweeping change from what could be considered a small, if dysfunctional familial tribal society to an out and out monarchy. This probably began to occur around the 10th century, BCE. Up until this time, there had been various tribes who would from time to time come sort of loosely and haphazardly together to combat threats from neighboring nations. And to lead them, God would call out one person that would in essence “rise to the top of the heap” to lead them in the crisis. But now voices are calling for a more stable and permanent government, a monarchy. And conflicts began to arise between those who called for monarchy and those who wanted to stay as a tribal society with God calling leaders to the front. This was a time of immense political struggle and by the time we come to the end of 2 Samuel, the center of what will become an empire, will have moved to Jerusalem.

The voices are raging, calling for change. They tell Samuel that the system is broken. They want a king, someone to lead them out of this mess. It is probably that for many, a monarchy held a sort of stability, a more reliable government. But it’s also possible that putting one person (or party!) in charge would benefit a select group of individuals. By having different people over the years rise to the top, the leadership was always changing and those that benefitted, too, would change. It probably provided for a more equitable society and, yet, no one really came out on top for any length of time. But putting one leader in place would mean that the society would shift and those who benefitted from the current leadership would remain in that situation.

Samuel did not agree with this new idea and he prayed to God. God consoles Samuel, reminding him that the people have rejected God over and over in the past. So Samuel goes to great lengths to convince the people that a monarchy would not solve all their problems. In fact, it would create a whole new set of problems that were only beginning. Samuel takes it all very personally (which implies that even Samuel was not just siding with the “best interest” of the people). But God tells Samuel to go ahead and give them a king. Maybe God is punishing the people, giving them enough rope to hang themselves with their newfound government. Or maybe, this is God’s way of opening the door to a new potential and a new way of being.

We can identify with the people in this passage. They wanted security. I mean, who doesn’t? Who doesn’t want a guarantee that someone will be in charge, will “fix things”, will pull us out of this quagmire in which we find ourselves? But did the people truly want a change, truly want to move forward, or did they just want something that made life easier? We could ask ourselves the same question. Do we want change that moves us forward or change that makes us feel good for the time being? Does it seem here like God is giving up or is God calling the people to grow into a new people? And in our own political climate, rampant with competing voices calling for stability, calling for someone to “fix things”, where is the voice of God? Are we being called to repair what is wrong, to a more stable government, or to a new way of being?

  • What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  • Do you read this as if God was only pacifying the voices or calling them to something new?
  • How does this passage relate to us today?
  • If we are really honest with ourselves, where is God calling us in our society to go today?
  • Is what is “best” for us today the same as that which is “best” for our society? 

  • NEW TESTAMENT: 2 Corinthians 4: 13-5:1

    To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

  • This passage is not meant to be Paul’s way of demeaning our physical or earthly selves. Our bodies, frail and broken though they may be, are not bad. Rather, this is a message of transformation. It is a promise that who we are, what we have, is not the final outcome. God has a vision for something even better. God has chosen mortal bodies in which to display God’s power. God is in the act of transforming our bodies and our lives.  A few verses before this passage, Paul likens our bodies to “jars of clay”.  According to Paul, the reason that God has chosen such fragile vessels is to make clear “this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us”. The good news is only possible because a powerful God is at work.

    But, fragile as our wasting bodies may be, they also hold something.  God is not just “out there” or “up there”.  The holy and the sacred also exists in us, working through us, transforming us even as we speak.  As Paul says, our “inner nature” is being renewed day by day.  It is something that is not obvious, but that is always and ever there with us.  We can rely on the promise that God is beyond what we know and, yet, that God lives in us, that we live the Resurrected Christ.  We ARE the new thing that God has promised.  We just have to live into it, to live toward that which we cannot see and which we do not understand.  God’s presence is both external and internal.  We live in an intersection between what we know and what we do not, what we see and what we cannot, and who we are and who we shall be.  Earth and heaven are not separate.  The holy and the sacred spill into us all the time.  It’s called new life in Christ.  It’s called transformation.  We United Methodists would call it “going on to perfection” each and every day.

    At some point, all that we know, all that we see will crumble away.  But it will not matter.  Because what will be left was there all along.  We just have to be open to seeing in a new way.  In Feasting on the Word, Mark Barger Elliott relates an old wisdom tale about a disciple and his teacher:

    “Where shall I find God?” a disciple once asked.  “Here,” the teacher said.  “Then why can’t I see God?” “Because you do not look,”  “But what should I look for?” the disciple continued. “Nothing.  Just look,” the teacher said.  “But at what?” “At anything your eyes alight upon,” the teacher said.  “But must I look in a special kind of way?” “No, the ordinary way will do.” “But don’t I always look the ordinary way?” “No, you don’t,” the teacher said. ‘But why ever not?” the disciple pressed. ‘because to look, you must be here. “You’re mostly somewhere else,” the teacher said.

  • What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  • Why is it so difficult for us to accept the idea of this ongoing transformation in which we live?
  • Looking back at the previous passage from 1 Samuel, how could this speak to that situation?
  • Where in your live do you see this Presence of God, this transformation?
  • Where in your life do you think you most neglect to see God’s Presence?

GOSPEL: Mark 3: 20-35

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

This is not an easy text. In fact, it’s probably one of the most misused texts in the Scriptures. We read of Satan and Beelzebul (which means “Lord of the Flies”) and our 21st century minds immediately go to a depiction of some sort of “other-worldly” character that keeps messing around in God’s business as well as our own. You see, all this stuff that Jesus was doing did not make sense. It did not fit in with the world they way people had imagined it. So they begin picking at everything Jesus did. After all, he was threatening everything they thought. He was going against the rules that society and the religious authorities for generations before had so carefully laid out. What Jesus was doing was just not right. He must be possessed by a demon! Even his family didn’t know what to do with him. Well, after all, you can imagine that this was a bit embarrassing. Why couldn’t he just get in line with everyone else?

But, let’s be honest. If we totally dismiss demons, or satan, or Beelzebul, or whatever else you want to call it, we are denying that there are forces in this world that do serve to pull us away from God. It is not that God pulls away from us or even that some other-worldly force “takes over”. But there are evils in this world. There are things that we are called to name and admit their presence and then work to cast them out. Wasn’t that what Jesus was doing, after all?

Jesus takes seriously the realities of satan and other demonic powers but, in the context of this first century understanding, “satan” does not necessarily mean a personality with horns and a red tail, but rather a power that is actively engaged in the world against the compassionate and reconciling love of God. “Satan”, refers to those powers that continue to keep our allegiance—racism, cultural elitism, sexism, materialism, militarism, etc. (you can come up with all sorts of “isms”!)—over and above the recognition that the power of God is what our lives are all about.

Jesus wasn’t denying his birth family; he wasn’t shirking his family responsibilities or disrespecting his parents. Rather, Jesus was reminding us that we are part of a larger family—the human family. And if we don’t remember that, then we are lost from God. In fact, perhaps Jesus was raising the possibility that his own family, whom he deeply loved, was sometimes standing in his way, sometimes stepping into that place over and above God’s place in our lives. It is wonderful if that is not the case, but sometimes even our families are full of “isms” that need to be named. But when it was all said and done, even dying on the cross, Jesus made sure that there was someone that would care and nurture his mother.

Again, Jesus is not denying the world or our place in it. We all have things that are important to us. They are part of who we are, part of the wonderful and unique self that God made us to be. It’s not about separating oneself from the world; it’s about perspective. It’s about seeing the world, the whole world, as God’s world and seeing all of those with whom we share this world as God’s people. It’s about putting ourselves in a place where God’s will for our lives and God’s will for the world will truly come to be. And that, too, can be named. It’s called life, the life that God envisioned us to live.

  • What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  • What are the evils that are called to name in this world?
  • What are those things in your own life that pull you away from noticing God’s presence in your life that you are called to name?  

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

Lest our feet stray from the places, our God where we met thee,

Lest our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee.

Shadowed beneath thy hand may we forever stand

True to our God, true to our native land. (James Weldon Johnson, 1871-1938)

 

We are on the road to heaven if today we walk with God. Eternal life is not a possession conferred at death; it is a present endowment. We live it now and continue it through death. With God, “time is eternity in disguise.” (Abraham Heschel)

 

Am I my brother’s keeper? No, I am my brother’s brother or sister. Human unity is not something we are called upon to create, only to recognize. (William Sloane Coffin)

Closing

 

In his time, in his time; he makes all things beautiful in his time.

Lord, please show me every day as you’re teaching me your way, that you do just what you say in your time.

 

In your time, in your time; You make all things beautiful in your time.

Lord, my life to you I bring; may each song I have to sing be to you a lovely thing in your time.

(Diane Ball, “In His Time”, in The Faith We Sing, #2203)

 

Christ the King A: Becoming the Body of Christ

shelliwilliamsLeave a comment
Christ Pantocrator mosaic
Daphni, Greece (ca. 1080-1100)

OLD TESTAMENT:  Ezekiel 34: 11-16, 20-24

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, click here

The oracles of Ezekiel are often downright alarming to us.  The writer’s understanding of God often seems to us to depict a powerful and sometimes scary Holy One upon a high and mighty throne that judges and hands out punishment because of the sins of the people, so a little history would probably help us out a little.  First of all, the prophet Ezekiel was probably part of the group of those who were deported from Jerusalem to Babylon in the year 597 BCE.  So his ministry was to those who were in exile with him.  He used visions to give them hope, to remind them that God was present even in the exile with them.  But he also proclaimed that the loss of the temple and the exile was the people’s fault, rather than God’s, that the circumstances in which they now found themselves were consequences of what they had done and how they had acted.  They had heard God but had not taken God’s Word seriously.  He condemned the leaders for being irresponsible shepherds of the people and for their lack of justice toward those in their care.
So, this reading focuses on restoration.  Using the image of the shepherd, the writer depicts God as the One who will take over and rescue the sheep.  It depicts a Great Gathering.  God as the Shepherd seeks each one out and brings them to good pasture, green and lush and plenty.  The metaphor of the shepherd is a common one in the ancient Near East.  It is a metaphor not of passivity or weakness, but of a power defined by justice and compassion, which is why this reading works well for our Christ the King readings.  After the promise of new leadership, God promises a new covenant of peace.
If you read it, though, this is not necessarily an indictment but rather a condemning of the behavior of the unjust leaders (and possibly of the people themselves for following those who were not good and just!)  So God will step in.  In other words, hope is never lost.  We read the words “I will save my flock.”  There is talk of judgment, of justification, but over and above, God saves.  This is not carrying any of those so-called “hellfire and brimstone” images but rather the image of One who dispenses justice and discipline. This is not, contrary to what some would think, a God of wrath but, rather, a God of Righteousness, a God of Justice, a God of Light, lighting the way for those in darkness and shining a light on those who inflict the darkness.  But when it is all said and done, God will transform all into the flock of this righteous and just Shepherd, where they will be fed and nurtured, and live in peace.  It is the vision of the Peaceable Kingdom.  It is the vision of God.
We read this as part of our Christ the King Lection because it is a different view of the King.  The King is a Shepherd (and the Shepherd is a King).  This is not a King who rules in wrath and dispenses punishment but rather a King who rules in righteousness and dispenses justice.  And, more than that, this is a God who seeks and searches until the flock is found.  And when God starts dividing the flock, it’s not into “good and bad”, “right and wrong”, “us and them”.  Rather, it is bringing strength to the weak, healing to the injured, and “foundness” to the lost.  Any division that happens is so that God’s grace can permeate and save us all.
a.      What is your response to this passage?
b.      What is it about some of these visions that bother us so much?
c.       What image of the Peaceable Kingdom does this passage depict?
d.      Why do we insist on dividing God’s Kingdom into “us” and “them”?
NEW TESTAMENT:  Ephesians 1: 15-23
http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=282645685
Most scholars agree that Ephesians is considered what you could call a “Deutero-Pauline” work, implying that it is “second” or “secondary”.  (This would also refer to 2 Thessalonians and Colossians).  These letters were probably written in the 70’s or 80’s.  Paul more than likely died around 60, sometime around Nero’s reign.  So, rather than being written by Paul himself, Ephesians was more than likely written by a follower of Paul, using the format and even the style that Paul employed in his letters.  This is not plagiarism.  In that society, placing someone else’s name on a work was considered the highest form of compliment.
The main purpose of Ephesians, probably written to a Gentile audience, seems to be to remind the believers of their communal identity in their new status in Christ and to urge them to walk in ways that demonstrate this communal identity and unity.  (When you think of it, this idea of “community” would probably have been more difficult for Gentiles to grasp than for the Jews of that time, who had a sense of community embedded in their very being.)  The church here is understood as a Body of Christ that is exalted, which resonates with our understanding of the community of saints here and forever.
In this week’s reading (which is actually made up of four run-on sentences for all you English writing aficionados!), the writer describes Christ’s Reign as having by established by God’s power in the work, death, Resurrection, and spirit of Christ.  It is not a matter of placing Christ as King over other Kings.  This is not some calculated hierarchy of authority.  Rather, Christ is King…Period.  There is no other.  And this Reign of Christ IS the fullness of the Kingdom of God, when peace and justice and righteousness will finally be securely in place.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that “nothing is lost…everything is taken up in Christ, rid of evil, and remade.  Christ restores all this as God originally intended to be—without the distortion resulting from our sins.”  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, as quoted by Jennifer M. McBride in Feasting on the Word.)
In verse 18, “the riches of the glorious inheritance of the saints” refers to that inheritance that is extended through Christ who God raised from the dead, caused to sit in “heavenly places”, and gave authority over all things.  We are part of this inheritance.  But the reading does not end with the Kingship of Christ as one that is removed from us or one that is “out there” for us to inherit.  The reading instead closes with a reference to the church as the Body of Christ that is triumphant in all things, the point of eschatological fulfillment.  In other words, the Body of Christ is us.
There’s this huge poster way up on the wall of one of the meeting rooms at Lakeview, our Texas Conference assembly and retreat center.  If you look at it closely, you saw all these wonderful different pictures of people in ministry, doing what God called them to do.  But if you step back far enough, you realize that together the pictures form a silhouetted image of Jesus.  The point is that it takes all the pictures finally coming into being, coming into focus, and fitting with each other the way a jigsaw puzzle does, to realize that image of Christ, that Vision of God.
In this week when we celebrate the Reign of Christ, we are given a tiny glimpse of that vision that will be.  But unlike earthly kings and queens that we crown and just sit back to see what they do, the crowning of Christ as King comes one picture at a time.  What picture is yours?  What part of this vision has God called you by name to bring?  What were you created to be?
a.      What message does this reading hold for you?
b.      What image of the Reign of Christ does this reading give you?
c.       What does it mean for you to have this “inheritance”?
d.      So, what does it mean for us to BE the Body of Christ?
e.      What part of this vision is ours to build?
GOSPEL:  Matthew 25: 31-46
To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here
This passage probably makes all of us a little uncomfortable.  We’ve gotten to know this welcoming, nurturing Jesus and here, just before we read of the conspiracy to arrest Jesus in the next chapter, just before the beginning of the end, we get this.  First, we get a depiction of the Son of Man coming in all his glory.  It reflects the imagery of Daniel (7:13-14) and foretells the coming judgment.  The image seems to be a little scary.  From the throne, the King uses his authority to separate individuals like sheep and goats.  And we are told that the sheep will inherit the kingdom.  So what happens to the goats?
The issues of the final judgment and the establishment of God’s Reign were of paramount importance to the writer of Matthew’s version of the Gospel.  (So keep in mind that it’s not clear if these things were on the top of Jesus’ list!  In fact, there are some theologians that think that this prophetic writing was added to the end of the string of parables that came before it.)  I mean, think of all the ways that Jesus talked about salvation and the Kingdom.  None of them included a list of who was “in” and who was “out”.  Jesus seemed to be more concerned with showing everyone the way home.
The judgment is not based merely on doing the right thing.  In fact, both those who had done what was good and honorable and those who had not actually had the same response.  (When was that, Lord?)  That’s pretty cool.  Those who were doing the “right things” still had doubts, still had questions, still walked in faith.  But they loved their neighbor.  It was an authentic outpouring of the love of God.  Apparently, that’s what it’s all about.
But this is not a checklist of things to do so that you can go to heaven or whatever your vision of eternal life is.  This is depicting a way of living, a way of being.  This is depicting the Kingdom of God.  And getting signed on to the sheep team is not about us.  It is about loving our neighbor.  It is about being Christ in the world.  It is easy to read this and look upon salvation as something that we achieve.  But salvation is discovered (and sometimes in ways that we do not expect.)  And perhaps this writing is nothing more than a reminder of what it means to walk in the Way of Christ.  It means to love God and love neighbor.  The two cannot be separated.  As Christians (and as good Methodists), we usually default on the side of grace.  So, again, what happens to the goats?
I heard an NPR “Fresh Air” broadcast several years ago that included an interview with Mark Derr, a naturalist who recently wrote How the Dog Became the Dog—From Wolves to our Best Friends.  In his book, Derr explores how the relationship between humans and wolves developed, and how that relationship then influenced the physical evolution of wolves into dogs.  He says that he believes that humans and wolves developed a close relationship after recognizing themselves in each other while hunting.  So, he surmises, the dog is a creation of wolves and humans—of two equal beings that came together at a certain point in history and have been together ever since.  As time went on, the physical features of the wolf began to change.  It’s skeletal frame became smaller and its jaw shortened.  In essence, the wolf became a dog by becoming a little more like its human companions.  So, maybe we’re all a bunch of goats.  Maybe the point is to become a sheep by taking on more human characteristics, by following in the way of the one who was fully human and fully divine.
We stand in a threshold between two times.  The Kingdom of God has both already and not yet begun.  We are given glimpses of what will be, but there is still much work to be done.  In Creation, God gave the gift of the very essence of God.  God spoke Creation into being and called we humans to be the very image of the Godself, full of love and compassion and righteousness and a hunger for justice and peace.  In Feasting on the Word, Lindsay P. Armstrong depicts this passage as a “wellness check and possibly even a warning to those living in unhealthy, self-centered ways.”  He says that “we may not like warnings or wellness checks; after all, they ask us to recalibrate our lives.  However, they provide a critical wellness overview that we are wise to tend, particularly since heart trouble plagues us all.”
We do not do what we do as Christians to gain salvation.  Being Christian means loving God and loving neighbor.  It means being who God meant for you to be, the very image of the Godself, in the deepest part of your being.  It means becoming a sheep and realizing that it’s about more than you and all the other goats on your team.  It’s about the Shepherd; it’s about following Christ; it’s about being the Body of Christ in the world.
This week’s Gospel passage depicts what it means to live into the fullness of this glory—feeding where there is hunger, bringing water where there is thirst, providing clothing, and help, and companionship to those in need, and welcoming every stranger into our midst.  It is that ever widening circle bringing everyone into the center and it gives us that sacramental vision to which we are called—“when justice shall roll down like waters and righteous like an ever-flowing stream, when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.”  Rosabeth Kanter said that “a vision is not just a picture of what could be; it is an appeal to our better selves, a call to become something more.”  
a.      What meaning does this passage hold for you?
b.      What is so bothersome about this passage?
c.       How would we fare in our “wellness check”?
d.      What depiction does this provide for us of that Peaceable Kingdom?
Some Quotes for Further Reflection:
The marvelous vision of the peaceable Kingdom, in which all violence has been overcome and all men, women, and children live in loving unity with nature, calls for its realization in our day-to-day lives. Instead of being an escapist dream, it challenges us to anticipate what it promises. Every time we forgive our neighbor, every time we make a child smile, every time we show compassion to a suffering person, every time we arrange a bouquet of flowers, offer care to tame or wild animals, prevent pollution, create beauty in our homes and gardens, and work for peace and justice among peoples and nations we are making the vision come true. (Henri J.M. Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)
Jesus didn’t come to make us Christian; Jesus came to make us fully human. (Hans Rookmaaker)
The future enters into us in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens.  (Rainer Maria Rilke) 
Closing
To your table you bid us come.  You have set the places, you have poured the wine, and there is always room, you say, for one more.  And so we come. 
From the streets and from the alleys we come. 
From the deserts and from the hills we come. 
From the ravages of poverty and from the palaces of privilege we come. 
Running, limping, carried, we come. 
We are bloodied with our wars, we are wearied with our wounds, we carry our dead within us, and we reckon with their ghosts. 
We hold the seeds of healing, we dream of a new creation, we know the things that make for peace, and we struggle to give them wings. 
And yet, to your table, we come. 
Hungering for your bread, we come;
thirsting for your wine, we come;
singing your song in every language, speaking your name in every tongue, in conflict and in communion, in discord and in desire, we come.
O God of Wisdom, we come.  Amen.
                                                                        (Jan L. Richardson, In Wisdom’s Path, # 129)