You Know the Story

Sermon-Palm Sunday-March 28, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
You all know today’s story, right? Jesus rides into Jerusalem, is captured, tried, convicted, and killed. You know this, right?
A year and a half ago I went on sabbatical. Kyle, our son, and I, flew to Ireland August 2, 2008. Our second day there, I had planned for us to climb Croagh Patrick, a mountain several miles north of Galway. Deborah and I almost climbed it in 2000, but we ran out of time. It was supposed to be a leisurely stroll-according to the guidebooks. So Kyle and I start off and the weather couldn’t have been worse, drizzle, cold, windy. And pretty soon a dense fog settled in and you couldn’t see more than 20-30 feet in front of you. Which was probably a blessing, because if we had seen the trail going up I doubt we would have continued. It was really a tough climb, lots of sharp rocks and unsteady surfaces. And you couldn’t see what was ahead! And the fog was the densest AT THE TOP. So much for the great view.
We had started down, and I fell for about the 4th time-really hurting my dignity and pride, when the clouds parted and you could see all the way to Clew Bay a couple of thousand feet below. I had climbed a steep mountain, unsure of where I was going, blind on the trail, and frequently falling. We’ve all been there. You know the story.
Jesus starts the week with people wanting to make him king-and ends the week being made to carry his own cross. He entered Jerusalem a hero. By the end of the week, he was traded for the criminal, Barabbas. He had begun the week surrounded by crowds and groupies. And he ended the week abandoned, alone, and dying in between petty thieves.
Not a week goes by that we don’t see some famous person fall from the heights-Tiger Woods, John Edwards, Kwame Kilpatrick. We’re used to it. Heroes fall everyday. We all know the story-the lies, the rumors, the denials, then the confessions, the “therapy”, the rehabilitation. It happens all the time. You know how many messiahs had marched into Jerusalem expecting to be crowned king of the Jews?
v The Maccabees a Jewish rebel army who liberated parts of the Land of Israel from the rule of the Seleucid Empire. They founded the Hasmonean dynasty, which ruled from 164 BCE to 63 BCE, reasserting the Jewish religion
v About 44 CE, a man named Theudas appeared, claiming to be a prophet. He urged the people to follow him with their belongings to the Jordan, which he would divide for them. According to Acts he secured about 400 followers. Cuspius Fadus sent a troop of horsemen after him and his band, slew many of them, and took captive others, together with their leader, beheading the latter ("Ant." xx. 5, § 1).
Simon of Peraea (ca. 4 BC), a former slave of Herod the Great who rebelled and was killed by the Romans.[2]
Athronges (ca. 3 BC)[3], a shepherd turned rebel leader.
v An "Egyptian" is said to have gathered together 30,000 adherents, whom he summoned to the Mount of Olives, opposite Jerusalem, promising that at his command the walls of Jerusalem would fall down, and that he and his followers would enter and possess themselves of the city. But Felix, the procurator (c. 55-60), met the throng with his soldiery. The prophet escaped, but those with him were killed or captured, and the multitude dispersed.
v 70AD- Menahem ben Judah (?), allegedly son of Judas of Galilee, partook in a revolt against Agrippa II before being slain by a rival Zealot leader. Menahem ben Judah Menahem ben Judah, the son of Judas of Galilee and grandson of Hezekiah, the leader of the Zealots, who had troubled Herod, was a warrior. When the war broke out he attacked Masada with his band, armed his followers with the weapons stored there, and proceeded to Jerusalem where he captured the fortress Antonia, overpowering the troops of Agrippa II. Emboldened by his success, he behaved as a king, and claimed the leadership of all the troops. Thereby he aroused the enmity of Eleazar, another Zealot leader, and met death as a result of a conspiracy against him. He is probably identical with the Menahem ben Hezekiah mentioned in the Talmud (tractate Sanhedrin 98b) and called "the comforter that should relieve".
v Simon bar Kokhba (?- ca. 135), founded a short-lived Jewish state before being defeated in the Second Jewish-Roman War. With the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem the appearance of messiahs ceased for a time. Sixty years later a politico-Messianic movement of large proportions took place with Shimeon Bar Kokhba (also: Bar Kosiba) at its head. This leader of the revolt against Rome was hailed as Messiah-king by Rabbi Akiva, Although some doubted his messiahship, he seems to have carried the nation with him for his undertaking. After stirring up a war (133-135) that taxed the power of Rome, he at last met his death on the walls of Bethar. His Messianic movement ended in defeat and misery for the survivors.
Moses of Crete (?), who in about 440-470 convinced the Jews of Crete to attempt to walk into the sea to return to Israel; he disappeared after that disaster.
The Jewish crowds were used to it-it’s why they could be so fickle. One day a messiah, the next week you are hung on a cross. Ho hum. They knew the story.

Last fall we started a group here at Trinity called Education for Ministry-EfM. We get together every week to talk, share, study scripture together-and then we spend a little over an hour doing something called-Theological Reflection. The purpose of this theological reflection is to try to understand life in a different way. Our goal is to see how God is acting in our lives. It is not easy. We struggle with this. But we realize that understanding the Bible, without seeing God present today is just interesting reading-it has no power. Our lives would be unchanged. And that’s the point-can our lives change if we understand? Can we see things in a different way? What if the fog clears and all of a sudden I realize why I climbed the mountain? What I experienced, what it means?
When today’s story ends, there are only two words that really fit this story-defeat and failure. That’s how this reading concludes-no victory, no therapy, no rehabilitation, no reconciliation. Just defeat. Just failure. No salvation, no redemption. No way out. We’re supposed to listen to this story and see ourselves at our darkest moments. This is how it feels-alone, abandoned, hurting, empty, defeated, failed. We all know that story. We want something more from life than that-but there are days, sometimes longer than days, when that is where we are-blind, unsure, falling, and lost.
Every week of the year in church we tell the story of redeeming, the story of how God saves, liberate. But not today. There’s no redemption in this one. We don’t see any hope when this gospel ends. It just feels-over. Up until the 15th century there was very little interest among Christians in the resurrection-it was all about the crucifixion. This is what was important. There were 2 reasons why-one, because Jesus took on people’s sins and mitigated the pain of hell and judgement, but secondly, because people lived hard brutish lives and because of this week, this suffering, this passion, the people believed that Jesus understood what they went through. They believed that God really did understand their lives.
We don’t live lives that are brutish or short, but we know what it is to be lost. We know what it is to be betrayed. And we know what it is to fail. In other words, when we hear today’s gospel we may not feel filled with hope-but we know by the end of the story that God has been where we are. God knows what it is to be defeated, and God knows what it is to suffer.
So when today’s story finishes we may not be lifted up, we certainly don’t feel inspired -but we know we’re not alone. And that is where we stop today. Not with victory, but remembering what Jesus was called at his birth-Emmanuel, God-with-us. That is how Palm Sunday, the Sunday of the Passion, ends. A good man is killed. A life is cut short. People die unjustly, and disappointment happens. Jesus, a man like us, suffering and dying. Like us.
You all know the story. We’ve all lived the story. But the story isn’t over.

What A Waste

Sermon-5 Lent-March 21, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
I was telling Deborah last night that today’s sermon is very odd for me, for an unusual reason-in 30 years I have never ever preached on this gospel. You see, the lessons we use every Sunday were always proscribed by the lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer (the red book in your pew racks). And this gospel was always assigned for the Monday of Holy Week-a day when I never preached. But now we are using the Revised Common Lectionary that most mainline churches use. So I get to preach on it for the first time. But there’s so much more to this gospel than how seldom it’s heard. The reason that it was assigned to Holy Monday before Easter, is that it supposedly takes place 6 days before Jesus was crucified.
Let me give you a short Bible study before I tell you some things. In the gospel of John, which is so different than Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus is summoned to his friend’s house in Bethany, because he was told that his good friend Lazarus was gravely ill. He arrives, and even though it’s been 4 days since he died, he revives him and brings him back to life. This happens in chapter 11 of John. It says (verse 53) 53So from that day on they planned to put him to death. You all remember this, I’m sure.
In the gospel of John, it was the raising of Lazarus that was the reason the authorities wanted Jesus dead. Some time later Jesus returns to Bethany, where Mary, Martha, and Lazarus live. Jesus has returned to the home of the family where he had brought a loved one back from the dead.
That’s where we are. It’s six days before the Passover-6 days before Jesus will be killed-for saving the life of this man, Lazarus. Remember this.
We are living in a world that is starting to realize that we can’t live like we used to. The world is limited. We don’t have to convince people that we have to conserve-$4 gas does that. Global warming does that. Shrinking resources shows us that. What do we say now-DON’T BE WASTEFUL. Recycle, reuse, don’t squander, don’t throw things away. Downsize, smaller footprint, economize, cut back, reduce, trim, pare, MODERATION. And here we have a gospel story of a woman who pours a whole pound of expensive fragrance on Jesus’ feet.
Many years ago I was serving in a tiny church in the UP. 20 people. On a good Sunday. No one under 70. But, years before they had been left millions of dollars. So they saved it. And one day they had a key parishioner that couldn’t make it down the steps to the parish hall in the basement. And someone said, “let’s spend some of that money to put in an elevator.” Someone else said, “let’s renovate the basement-it hasn’t changed in 40 years.” So, they decided to spend many thousands of dollars making changes in their building. About that same time there was clergy conference and word had leaked out that this tiny little parish was going to spend a lot of money-on itself. And many of the clergy were outraged. “THIS CONGREGATION IS ON IT’S LAST LEGS!” They told me. “WHY ARE THEY WASTING ALL THAT MONEY SO ONE PERSON CAN GET TO THE BASEMENT?” They asked me. “DON’T THEY KNOW HOW MUCH GOOD THAT MONEY WOULD DO ON IMPORTANT DIOCESAN PROGRAMS,” they exclaimed. Here’s what they really wanted to say, “DON’T THROW AWAY MONEY ON A BODY THAT’S DYING!” It could do so much more good on the living. That’s what they wanted to say.
Think back to a moment in your life, where you spent wastefully, extravagantly. I don’t mean just money. Maybe it was time. Maybe you sat by a bedside for months with someone who was ill. Maybe it was emotionally, where you trusted and felt and committed so deeply that there was almost nothing left. Maybe it was money, where you spent lots of money on something or someone for one brief shining moment-a wedding maybe, a party, a gift. Can you remember a time where you gave extravagantly, lavishly, expensively- wastefully, because of love? Maybe it was money, maybe it was time, maybe it was your feelings. To an outsider watching, your gift, your giving, your “offering” was a waste. It didn’t make sense. You didn’t act prudently. No one, watching from the outside, understood. But you did it for love-and you didn’t care what anyone else thought. When you love, we will give anything, everything. It is wasteful, extravagant, and it is an enormous sacrifice-but you did it for love. The other day I was talking to a single parent who sacrificed mightily for her child. And her daughter, no grown, “woke up one day and realized it. And she said, “mom, I can’t believe how much you had to do, all that you had to give up for me.” And this parent, this hero, looked at me and said, “I told her it was nothing, it’s what you do for someone you love.”
Why would Mary have a pound of expensive perfume at her home? Nard came from India, high up in the Himalayas. It was only used at two very important times in life-on the bride at her wedding, on a loved one at a funeral. Was this left over from Lazarus’ death? Was this set aside for Mary’s wedding some day?
You think the nard, this perfume was the great sacrifice, the great gift? You think it was the money spent on this fragrance that was the sacrifice. Mary loosens her hair. A decent woman never ever did that except with her husband. Privately. On at the funeral of a family member. She pours this expensive ointment all over Jesus’ feet. No one ever wastes “the good stuff” on someone’s feet. Their hair, MAYBE, but not their feet! Then she wipes his feet dry with the only thing in the home that could be spared-her hair. The people watching this must have been so embarrassed. This was so excessive, so over the top.
There is an Alcoholics Anonymous group that meets here every Monday night. We always tell groups not to use our Sunday School rooms. Let our kids destroy them, I always tell them. So one Monday night I was here and this guy comes in from the meeting and says, “I understand that we’re not allowed to use the nursery.” I said, “yeah, we’d prefer you didn’t.” He said, “my 4 year old daughter is here, and she has no place to go during the meeting-I have no child care, I have to attend this meeting.” I said, “oh, ok, sure, let her use the nursery.” Then he started crying. Then he knelt in front of me and sobbed. I said, “hey, come on, it’s no big deal.” And he said, “you’ll never know how big a deal it is.” To an outsider, it doesn’t make sense.
Kate Huey , a commentator from the United Church of Christ writes:
Think about this: in the Gospel of John, at his last meal with the disciples, in the very next chapter after this one, Jesus doesn't take bread and bless and break it and say, Take this and eat…no, he gets up and ties a towel around himself and pours water in a basin and washes the disciples' feet. That is what he wants his followers to do, but he doesn't just tell them, he shows them, too. Do as I say, he says, and do as I do. Mary, our teacher for today, anticipates that lesson beautifully, acting from her heart, responding to all that Jesus has been in her life.” There are only 3 times this Greek word ekmasso meaning “to wipe” is used in the New Testament-twice here in chapter 12, and when Jesus washes his disciples’ feet in chapter 13.
Wiping, washing, anointing, cleaning the feet of those you love. Here is Mary, sister to the man Jesus raises from the dead-showing her great love, her devotion, to Jesus. John the gospel writer includes this story in his book for a reason. There is another story coming, a story of Jesus wiping the feet of his friends. John wants us to know what extravagant, wasteful, sacrificial love looks like. He wants us to understand what’s coming. John knows that the crucifixion will make no sense to others- so he’s including these stories so we will understand that what Mary does here in Bethany, what Jesus will do in that upper room-and why. John the evangelist, the gospel writer, wants to make sense out of a crucifixion that will happen in 6 days in his gospel--a wasteful, sacrificial, extravagant act that made no sense to outsiders. That’s why John includes this odd story. This kind of events, this extravagant, wasteful, sacrificial act only makes sense to someone you love. Amen.

The Qetsatsah Ceremony

Sermon-4th Sunday in Lent March 14, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
I have so much to tell you this week, thank God I have an extra hour. First, I haven’t given you any obscure church history in a while. Today is Laetare Sunday. The 4th Sunday of Lent always began with the song, “Rejoice, O Jerusalem…” In Latin, “Rejoice” is “Laetare”. Because we are now more than half way through Lent it was the Sunday when people could relax a little from the difficult disciplines that they had set for themselves 23 days ago. The gospel that always used to be read on this Sunday was John 6-the story of the feeding of the 5000-so it was also known as “Fishes and Loaves Sunday”. In England, this was the day that all the young men and women who had been apprenticed out to wealthy families or jobs far away could return to their homes, see their families, and attend church at “the mother church”-so it was known as “Mothering Sunday”. Popes, traditionally on this Sunday, used to carry a golden rose in their right hand when returning from the celebration of Mass (way back in 1051, Pope Leo IX called this custom an "ancient institution.") Originally it was natural rose, then a single golden rose of natural size, but since the fifteenth century it has consisted of a cluster or branch of roses wrought of pure gold in brilliant workmanship by famous artists. The popes bless one every year, and often confer it upon churches, shrines, cities, or distinguished persons as a token of esteem and paternal affection.
So today is Laetare or Fishes and Loaves or Mothering or Rose Sunday.
Ok, enough church history. How about personal history. Did you ever want to run away from home? Wait a second, let’s try that again, how many times have you wanted to run away from home? I don’t mean when you are 14. It doesn’t matter how old you are, everyone wants to run away from home on occasion-regardless of our age. The idea of escaping, leaving, crosses everyone’s mind from time to time. Just say to your family, “oh, I forgot-it’s Mothering Sunday, I have to go home to the Mother church today. I’ll, uh, see you later”.
Years ago I heard someone start off a sermon on the Prodigal Son by saying “there are two kinds of people in the world-those who identify with the young son-and those
who feel closer to the elder son.” But this is church-where the good people come-that means that about 90% of you are going to feel like the older son was right in this story-and his younger brother should be banished forever. Right?
Every time I bring this story up in Bible studies most of the people tell me that they never liked this parable. The father NEVER EVER SHOULD HAVE FORGIVEN THE YOUNG SON. How many feel like that? For those of you who are the older sons, this is a terrible story. But you know what’s the worst part of this parable? It’s not finished. There is no ending. We never know if the older brother ever accepted the Father’s begging and came into the house at the end or not. We don’t know what happened to the good son.
Kenneth E. Bailey is an active lecturer on Middle Eastern New Testament studies and in an article in Christianity Today 12 years ago listed “14 aspects of the parable need to be rescued from their traditional interpretation”. Let me tell you of 3 of them, briefly
1. The request. The younger son requests his inheritance while his father is still alive and in good health. In traditional Middle Eastern culture, this means, "Father, I am eager for you to die!" If the father is a traditional Middle Eastern father, he will strike the boy across the face and drive him out of the house.
Once, when members of the news media brought up to Prince Charles the prospect of his ascending to the throne of England, he stopped the conversation cold when he said, "Gentlemen, you are speaking of the death of my mother."
2nd. Jewish law of the first century provided for the division of an inheritance (when the father was ready to make such a division), but did not grant the children the right to sell until after the father's death. In a second departure from the expected norm, the father grants the inheritance and the right to sell, knowing that this right will shame the family before the community.
3. The qetsatsah (kweat-sat-sash) ceremony. From the Jerusalem Talmud it is known that the Jews of the time of Jesus had a method of punishing any Jewish boy who lost the family inheritance to Gentiles. It was called the "qetsatsah (kweat-sat-sash) ceremony." Horror at such a loss is also reflected in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Such a violator of community expectations would face the qetsatsah ceremony if he dared to return to his home village. The ceremony was simple. The villagers would bring a large earthenware jar, fill it with burned nuts and burned corn, and break it in front of the guilty individual. While doing this, the community would shout, "So-and-so is cut off from his people." From that point on, the village would have nothing to do with the wayward lad.
From the various references to this ceremony, it appears that the ban was more comprehensive than even the Amish "shun." When shunned, an Amish person can at least eat at a separate table. The first-century Jewish shun appears to have been a total ban on any contact with the violator of the village code of honor.
So, all of you older siblings out there, all of you who stayed home, did the right thing, obeyed your parents, followed the rules, never “really” embarrassed your parents, NEVER ran away (like you wanted)-would you like to go ahead and qetsatsah (kweat-sat-sash) your siblings? Of course we would. This is not a story about fairness. It’s not a story about being good. It’s not a story about living a Christian life. It’s a story that is left unfinished for a reason. It’s a story about how hard it is to follow Jesus.
Do you remember how this story started off? Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable: Who was he telling this parable to? The Pharisees and the scribes. THE GOOD PEOPLE. The righteous people. He may have been talking about the tax collectors and sinners but he was telling it TO the Pharisees and the scribes. Personally, I think he was telling it ABOUT The Pharisees and the scribes. I think Jesus was telling the story about how hard it is for good people to be forgiven, even more than the prodigal son. I think Jesus was trying to speak to the people who were most resistant to the gospel, the people who had the hardest time with forgiveness-you and I. The good kids. The ones who stayed home and did the right thing, the ones who worked and sacrificed and worked hard at NOT embarrassing our families. One commentator said this parable should be renamed not the Prodigal Son but The Resentful Brother.
‘Fred Craddock writes, "It is that party which is so offensive. The older brother has a point: of course, let the penitent come home. Both Judaism and Christianity provide for the return of sinners, but to bread and water, not fatted calf; to sackcloth, not a new robe; to ashes, not jewelry; to kneeling, not dancing; to tears, not merriment" (Preaching through the Christian Year C).’
Kate Huey, a United Church of Christ commentator who I read every week wrote this, “Barbara Brown Taylor's reflection on the older brother is delightful as she recalls what it felt like to be the oldest child herself, watching younger ones get away with so much more than she had: "There were not extra steps between the younger son's return and his welcome home party, no heart-to-heart with the old man, no extra chores, no go-to-your-room-for-a-week-and-think-about-what-you-have-done, just a clean robe for his back, and a fine ring for his hand, and a pair of new sandals for his feet." It's just not fair, right? "What do you have to do to get a party around here? Do you have to go off and squander your inheritance before you can come home to be embraced, and kissed, and assured that you belong?" Here she poignantly observes the ways that both sons are lost to the father, one "to a life of recklessness," and the other "to a more serious fate, to a life of angry self-righteousness that takes him so far away from his father that he might as well be feeding pigs in a far country." What Taylor does so well is to describe the love of the father who "does not love either of his sons according to what they deserve. He just loves them, more because of who he is than because of who they are." Sooner or later, even those of us "faithful ones," if that's indeed how we imagine ourselves, end up on that doorstep, too, struggling with our own self-righteousness: "It is up to each one of us to decide whether we will stand outside all alone being right, or give up our rights and go inside and take our place at a table full of reckless and righteous saints and scoundrels, brothers and sisters united only by our relationship to one loving father, who refuses to give us the love we deserve but cannot be prevented from giving us the love we need" (Taylor's sermon, "The Prodigal Father," is in The Preaching Life).
This is Laetare Sunday, the day we’re supposed to lighten up, not be so hard on ourselves, the day we begin with the word, “rejoice”. It’s the day we hear how hard it is to be good and righteous and accepting of those who aren’t. This is not an easy parable. One, because it is unfinished. And two, because it’s about all of us. Every great parable always leaves us with a question. Today’s challenge is not “do we forgive our “ne’er-do-well siblings” when they come home (as we usually preach this story); it’s much tougher than that. Do we forgive our Father-even when he’s not fair? Are we willing to come into the house, even when there are people that we don’t believe belong there? Can we believe in a God that doesn’t reward the good or punish the bad? In other words, can we live in a faith where God treats us like we treat our own children-loving them, welcoming them, begging them to come home-especially when they don’t deserve it? That’s why this parable is still unfinished. Everyone has wanted to run away from home one time or another, Jesus is asking us how badly do we want to come back in the house. Amen.

Don’t Let That Stop You From Doing What You Are Doing

Sermon-3rd Sunday in Lent March 7, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
I’ve told you many times that I have this friend Mark, in New York. They always used to say in my family, Hagan men weren’t very bright but at least they always married smart. I have told this to Mark a few hundred times about his wife Paula, who is a jewel. Mark and Paula have a 24 year old daughter, Marie, with severe autism and is also mentally challenged. It has been a long hard time for the 3 of them. Nothing makes Paula angrier than when people try to tell her why their daughter is so afflicted. It drives Paula nuts. Especially when people tell her that it’s a gift, or God’s will, or something equally comforting. Paula will freely admit that she has no idea why her daughter is the way she is, but every explanation from every person about it just makes her so MAD she can’t stand it. Paula knows absolutely that God did not cause this to teach Paula a lesson, or to teach Marie a lesson, or to teach other people a lesson. God didn’t do this, and neither did the devil. Marie just is, and Paula accepts it. What Paula has a hard time with, is other people-who have to come up with a bad reason to explain why things are.
Today’s gospel is a two parter, two different stories, two different points. But it’s also part of something even bigger. This week’s sermon is connected to next week’s sermon. Both are about repentance. Both are about forgiveness. Both are about God’s grace. So next week I can make up for this week.
Part one, week one. First Jesus tells his followers that people didn’t die because they were terrible sinners. They didn’t die because they were evil, They didn’t die to teach some one a lesson. Jesus is pretty emphatic about this. Bad things happen-but God doesn’t cause them. Recently a famous preacher national said the people of Haiti were cursed because they made a pact with the devil in 1791. So bad things happen to people who sin. So if Jesus is killed at 33 then….how is that explained? Was it because he was a terrible sinner? Bad things happen. Sometimes because we cause them, sometimes they just happen. Bad things happen to people who are good-and sometimes good things happen to people who are bad. And all of our explanations don’t seem to make a difference or to help. When I was 16 I got Crohn’s. It wasn’t fair, I didn’t like it. I wasn’t worse than every other 16 year old, and I don’t think God was trying to teach me a lesson. Bad things happen.
Jesus tells his followers that. "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?” Barbara Brown Taylor writes: In Jesus' day, there was no question about fairness. The assumption was that disease, suffering, and death bore a direct correlation with human sinfulness: the greater the sin, the more likely the misfortune. And to some degree, like it or not, we still think this way. "Calamity strikes and we wonder what we did wrong," says Taylor. We scrutinize our behavior, our relationships, our diets, our beliefs. We hunt for some cause to explain the effect, in hopes that we can change what we are doing and so stop whatever has gone (or is going) wrong.”* Bad things happen. And we desperately want to explain them away. But we can’t. And Jesus told his followers that. I’m sure Jesus got fed up with people always explaining to him that bad things were God’s gift-or trying to teach him something.
Part two. "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.” Remember several weeks ago when you heard the story of John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness? “When people came to the Jordan River to be baptized, John called them to repentance. His words were harsh and unrelenting: "Even now," he said, "the ax is lying at the root of the trees. Every tree, therefore, that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
“His words were harsh and unrelenting.” That was the belief-you don’t bear fruit, you get cut down. That’s it. John also uses a tree as a parable. Only John doesn’t give much room for grace-for John, there are no second chances And in part two of today’s gospel, Jesus speaks to that.
He tells the people that they need to change. Once they’ve heard the call of God, they need to respond. Once we’ve heard God calling us to new life, we need to change. Every once in a while, we’ll offer something, a program, an event, an activity here at Trinity, and people will come up to me and say (actually I hear this a lot) “I’ll just wait til you offer it again next year. And I get this “look” on my face as I try not to scream at them, “this was it-it’s not going to happen again.” Sometimes there’s only one chance. This is America where the World Wrestling Federation or Circue de Soleil will come out with it’s “last chance-last time-end-of-the-world-never-ever-happen-again” show EVERY YEAR. So we expect not just one more chance, but LOTS more chances.
'Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.
Jesus tells a parable that God gives us another chance, but he doesn’t wait until life is convenient for us to repent, to change, to begin to bear fruit. Jesus says, God gives us another chance-but God doesn’t wait until we have our life where we want it, til we are absolutely ready and there is nothing else in our paths. The tree doesn’t say, “ok, I don’t have anything else on my agenda, I’ll bear some fruit now.”
Barbara Brown Taylor, acclaimed Episcopal preacher, writes of the fig tree parable: "(Jesus wants them to turn or repent) which is why he tweaks their fear. Don’t worry about Pilate and all the other things that can come crashing down on your heads, he tells them. Terrible things happen, and you are not always to blame. But don’t let that stop you from doing what you are doing. That torn place your fear has opened up inside of you is a holy place. Look around while you are there. Pay attention to what you feel. It may hurt you to stay there and it may hurt you to see, but it is not the kind of hurt that leads to death. It is the kind that leads to life."
“don’t let that stop you from doing what you are doing”*
Listen, this is week one of two weeks of lessons on repentance. This week we hear that bad things don’t happen to us to cause us to repent. But God is trying to get us to change our lives and to start living as people who are called to follow. And Jesus says that this sermon and all the other things that are reminders, are forms of manure-trying to get us to bear fruit. Don’t change out of fear. Don’t repent because you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you don’t. Repent, change, turn your life around because it leads to life. “don’t let that stop you from doing what you are doing”
There is a story told of a bishop in England who was traveling by train to perform a confirmation service. He misplaced his ticket and was unable to produce it when requested by the conductor. "It's quite all right, my lord, we know who you are." The conductor told him. But the bishop replied, "You don't see. Without the ticket, I don't know where I'm going." It is not enough for us just to be here; we need to know our purpose.
We hear the message. Don’t respond for all the wrong reasons. Don’t try to change because you’re afraid. Repent because you know your purpose. Repent because: It is the kind that leads to life." We’re all fig trees, our calling is to bear fruit. This is our purpose. We have found our ticket. Amen.

Have You Grown Yet?

Sermon-2nd Sunday in Lent February 28, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
Well, we’re 10 days into Lent, a fourth of the way through. How are you doing? Are you keeping your disciplines? How about your prayer that you turned in Ash Wednesday/last Sunday-are you praying it everyday? Have you been watching the Olympics?
When I was a kid, there was a point, I think it was in 5th grade, when I desperately wanted to be taller. Everyday I would come home from school and stand by the door in the kitchen so that my mom could put the pencil mark of my height on the frame. Everyday I would ask her, “Have I grown yet?” One of the worst days of my life was when I got stuck with my dad, a terrible tease, doing the marking. He put the mark about half an inch BELOW where I had been the previous day, then he spent all evening wondering aloud to my mother if it was common for kids to actually shrink as they got older.
So, here’s my question for you today, 10 days into the 40 days set aside for spiritual growth, “Have you grown yet?”
I have told this story, oh, roughly, 20 times, but I was towards the beginning of my sabbatical 18 months ago. I was going to walk St. Cuthbert’s Way. It’s a 62 mile hike through southern Scotland, and it begins in a tiny town of Melrose. So I start off out of town and I can’t figure out which direction to go. Finally I choose a road, and after 20 minutes I come to a farm. I mean, a farmhouse. It is the first hour of the first day of a 62 mile walk and I am lost. In a foreign land. Embarrassingly lost RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING. As the morning goes on, I start second guessing every time I turn a corner, “Am I going the right direction, am I going miles out of my way, how lost will I have to be before I know that I’m lost?”
We’re 10 days into Lent, do you feel like you’ve grown yet? Do you know where you’re going? How is your walk with Jesus?
Jesus’ own walk wasn’t going very well. Up til chapter 9 of the gospel of Luke Jesus had been healing and teaching and performing miracles all over Galilee, the northern part of Israel-at the end of chapter 9 it says: 51 When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. It was time for Jesus to go to Jerusalem. And he no more than starts his journey to Oz, Jerusalem, and what happens? “some Pharisees came and said to Jesus, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you”. It sounds like Dorothy and Toto and the Wicked Witch doesn’t it? Jesus had done nothing wrong. He was healing people. He was casting out demons. He is feeding the hungry and blessing the poor. He is touching people. And the king wanted him, dead. This is not the same king who killed his cousin, John the Baptist. This is a relative-Herod Antipas. Now this Herod wants Jesus dead. And Jesus is on his way to the magical, the holy, the great city of God, Jerusalem –and this is what he hears. “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you”
When last we left my sabbatical I was lost and alone, losing confidence with every step somewhere outside of Melrose, Scotland. And I had this vision of coming back here and telling you that I never completed my first walk because I couldn’t find the trail. On the first day. In the first hour. Out of nowhere, I meet these two women(Carol and Olive) who I had met briefly at breakfast that morning. They were English, long time friends, and they asked if I minded if they tagged along. They kept up a blistering pace, but even better they were upbeat, positive, natural trailreaders, and indefatigable. They kept calling me, “the Vicar”, and I told them they were angels sent from God. They said that they had never been called that before. We walked 18 miles that day. We hit two bad rain squalls. I lost my glasses (we learned later that they were destroyed). I got bad leg cramps. There were a million small glitches throughout the day, but I remember most of all being lost, and then being found. I had an aim of getting to Lindisfarne in 6 days, my goal was NOT being lost. But I learned more by having gone astray. That first day taught me more than reaching my goal ever did.
Sometimes the obstacles, the failures, the disappointments teach more than victories. Sometimes it’s when you seem to be shrinking that you remember growing up. My goal, the first day, changed from Lindisfarne, to recognizing all the angels in my journey.
Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem when he hears that the king wants him dead. He had to be thinking, “this is already a disaster, and I’m still in Galilee.”
We’re 10 days into Lent, a fourth of the way through. How are you doing? Are you keeping your disciplines? How about your prayer that you turned in --are you praying them everyday? We all get lost. We all fail. We all forget, weaken, and get scared. Jesus get’s angry and says, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.” Jesus thinks he is on a walk to Jerusalem. But he’s beginning to realize that His real journey is to save the world.
We think that our goal in lent is to keep our disciplines, not fail, not lose our way, in other words-to be perfect. But hopefully we learn something else as we walk through these 40 days. The obstacles, the threats, the stumbles, the missteps-that’s where we learn the most-about ourselves-about the real goals in life.
I asked if you had been watching the Olympics. As the athletes get up to the podium and receive their medals, they are also handed some thing else-what is it? A bouquet. It’s a mixture of green mums and hypericum berries, and most of the athletes are so caught up in the moment that they don’t have a clue what these bouquets are about. They arrangement represents British Columbia, and they are the colors of the Vancouver Olympics. But more importantly the 1800 bouquets presented at the podium come from 2 small flower shops. One of them is called, New Beginnings run by June Strandberg. June won the contract, beating out 58 other florists, because her shop is run by women who have left prison, are recovering from addiction, or have been victims of violence. It is a school that teaches marginalized women how to reenter society and a new career. So if you happen to turn on the Olympics today, and watch a medal ceremony-watch just a moment longer as they are on the podium when they are given their bouquet. These mums and berries were created by God and fashioned by people who were finding their way. Jesus is realizing every step that his journey is more than Jerusalem-and every plot, every scheme, every barrier isn’t just a way to slow him down-they are opportunities for God. We trip, we fall, we get lost-even in Lent. Every time, pay attention to the orange barrels. They’re not just obstacles-they’re moments when we can learn.
We’re 10 days into Lent, a fourth of the way through. Have you started to grow yet?