Based on Luke 18:9-14
The parable form enables us to arrive at an interpretation based on where we are in our culture and in our own time and place in history. One commentator says that some parables “break up the soil of previous teaching and prepare for a new perspective.” Much of the meaning in a parable depends on us. Having said that, we also want to pursue what Luke was trying to tell us.
Luke tells us that Jesus told this parable to “some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous,” to people who regarded others with contempt. At the end of chapter 17, Jesus is talking to the disciples about the coming of the Son of Man and then, immediately before today’s reading, he tells them the story of the persistent widow. So we know that at least the disciples are present. Pharisees and scribes always seem to be lurking about too, along with the ever-present crowd that follows Jesus around. And then there’s us, the audience. So Jesus is telling this parable as a warning to anyone for whom giving thanks has turned into self-praise.
This is God's judgement: that we need purging 'with hyssop;' we need wisdom; we need to acknowledge our iniquities, our transgressions. Only then can God create in us a clean heart. Only then can reconciliation and forgiveness with our neighbors occur.
Imagine how difficult it must be to continually dodge the truth that we have sinned before the Lord; how much physical and emotional energy that must take. Do you think Bashar Hafez al-Assad thinks at all about the toll the civil war must be having on Syria's citizens? Or is the enormity of his sin so great that he can't even speak about his people and what he's doing to them? Do we ever wonder about the toll exacted upon our homeless population by the policies we impose that only seem to be helpful when actually all they do is frustrate and make the problem worse? At what point do we lose our compassion and fall into sin?
How often are we thankful that we’re not like other people? “There but for the grace of God go I.” Is there a difference between the Pharisee just doing his duty and the person who gives to charity only to reduce their taxable income at year end? How often do we admit that we’ve missed the mark? Like the tax collector, do we recognize our sinfulness? Does that knowledge bring us sorrow?
We know what God expects, through the prophet Amos:
Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings,
I will not accept them;
and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals
I will not look upon.
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. (5:22-24)
When we re-orient to what God expects – justice, righteousness – when we look at every situation from God’s point of view, then we begin to see the world differently. The situation in Syria then looks more like tragedy, and the campaign trail, like comedy.
Jesus opens the door for us to discuss the public façade of any system of oppression. He exposes those who would destroy the village in order to save it. He tears the veil hanging between our reality and God’s. He helps us reorient to what God expects versus what we have become used to. We are free to stand far off by ourselves in our own private prayer time and lay it all out to God. That’s humbling. It frees us from our past and from the weight of what we’ve done – or not done. The good news tells us that all who humble themselves and confess to God what God already knows will be exalted.
Re-orientation leads to self-knowledge, re-evaluation, and transformation. What we take away from this parable is not that who we once thought was a good guy is now a bad guy, and vice-versa, but that we need to look within and reflect on our own relationship with God – is it honest and direct or are we trying to maintain a façade for others? Are we self-aware when we seek out the God who made us?
No one has to tell me I’m a sinner. God knows I know that. What’s important is how we talk to God about it. The true confession of our weakness will get us acquitted. But since we’re not sure this is so, it’s better if we re-orient to what we know God wants from us: justice and righteousness in all that we do. We must all break up the soil of what we “know” and prepare for a new perspective, through Jesus Christ.
Amen.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Friday, August 5, 2016
Book Review - Music and the People of God
da Silva, Jetro Alves. Music and the People of God. Self-published
in Lexington, KY, 2016. viii + 121 pp. Softcover.
Jetro Alves da
Silva is an accomplished musician, having worked with Whitney Houston, El
DeBarge, and others; a theologian; a student of music history and music in the
Bible; and a proponent of the power of music to heal and transform. In the abstract to his book, Music and the
People of God, da Silva states that the project aims to ‘discuss the role
of music among the people of God’ and its use through the centuries (iv).
This review offers
a brief summary, a critique, and my assessment of the work. Full disclosure: the author and I attended
classes together at Andover Newton Theological
School in Massachusetts. Who knew then that he had such a story to
tell?
Broadly speaking,
this is a book about music and faith. It
examines music from ancient times forward to today, with an extended discussion
on the role of music in the Hebrew Bible.
Along the way, da Silva asks himself many questions about all the
aspects of music and its role in faith formation. His questions lead him into the psychology of
religious experience and the theology of music, its history and its
purpose. He takes us on a survey of
musical tastes ranging from the ancient Egyptians to Martin Luther and John
Calvin to 50 Cent and Jay-Z. His
references are extensive and his research impressively deep. He knows his topic well and intimately. Much has been written on the social history
of music but I am not sure anyone else has quite taken the approach presented
here.
Da Silva believes
that music has ‘the power to make a simple lyric or a powerful philosophical
statement become digestible to the one who is listening’ (1). In that sense, I believe his intention in
writing this book is to draw a line from the music of nature – the sound of the
waves of the oceans, bird song, trumpeting elephants, the sound of tree leaves
moving in the wind – directly to the music of the people of God in praise of
God. For da Silva, music is both
mystical and spiritual, and he connects it with the Holy Spirit, the third
person in the Christian Trinity and the ruah of the Hebrew Bible.
As a musician and
performer, and then as a music teacher and trained theologian, da Silva has
traveled widely and acquired vast experience both personally and professionally. From Brazil
to Brooklyn, West Africa to Los Angeles, to Boston and beyond, da
Silva’s exposure to a variety of musical forms gives him a unique perspective
on his topic. All that he has learned in
his craft has focused his thinking about the role of music and its use in
spiritual and religious settings.
The idea behind
the book, the thing that animated Jetro’s urge to write, is that musicians can
give their best to the Lord, to glorify God, to keep God at the forefront of
their thoughts in their playing, singing, and even in their rehearsing. In our listening and in our appreciation of
the musician’s efforts, music can be a means to grace, emotional healing,
transformation, and to sanctuary.
Through its long history as a means of human endeavor, through all its
forms from primal drumming to modern Jazz and hip-hop, music has generated joy,
controversy, and its own varieties of language, not to mention much that
endures in our hearts and minds as rhythms and tunes. Hearing a favorite song can often transport
us back to the time and place when we first heard it, just as a favorite aroma
can bring us back to the kitchens of our youth.
Music has been a
part of human life experience from the very beginning. It is used in all aspects of our cultures, in
celebrations, funerals, battlefields, religious ceremonies and more. We listen to music for pleasure. We create music as an offering. We present music as a gift to God and to our
neighbors. It has always been thus. But the musical form is never stagnant. Throughout its long history, music has
evolved, changed, influenced other forms across the nations, and in general has
been a constant part of our life together.
The very sounds of
the earliest forms of music have been mostly lost to us, though we can pick up
traces through ancient sources such as the clay tablets of Assyria,
the bas reliefs of Egyptian tombs, and in the psalms of the Hebrew Bible. Through these, we can know which cultures
used which types of instruments and how they used music in all their moods and emotions. A Hebrew shofar, for example, had a
different use and purpose than a Phoenician pipe. This exploration is just part of the journey
da Silva takes us on in this book.
In order to
realize this ambitious project, da Silva has appropriately broken his task into
discrete, manageable sections.
Four chapters
follow a brief introduction in which Jetro describes the groundwork of his own
life and experience. Chapter one offers
a summary of musical instrumentation in ancient times and our resources for
understanding their use. Chapter two
talks about how music is used as therapy, beginning with King Saul in the
depths of his depression, and for emotional and physical healing. Chapter three discusses music from a
theological perspective. Men like J.S.
Bach, Martin Luther, and John Calvin had strong and differing opinions on the
use of music especially its use in a church setting. Luther, a musician, was for it as he believed
music was a gift from God. John Calvin,
on the other hand, held the contrary view that music came from people, not
God. Lastly, chapter four addresses
music as a spiritual and sacred practice, and forms the heart of the book.
In my view, as
someone with some musical training in his background and as a
minister-without-portfolio, this is all fascinating stuff. In a way, it’s good to know what Luther
thought about hymns used in church. A
trained musician looking for a broader view of what it is we do on Sunday, or
why, or how it came to be, might find this book to be of great interest. Even therapists who work with people
suffering from PTSD or depression can derive something new here.
Knowing Jetro, I
can clearly hear his voice speaking to me from one page to the next. He keeps to the book’s scope pretty well and
seldom strays from his mission to show us the relationship between music and
God. In fact, quite often he goes way
beyond just presenting some interesting nugget by offering two or three other
points of view, and he almost always moves the ball forward by including his
own thoughts and opinions. His sources
extend from the truly ancient to the contemporary, exposing us to a wide range
of thinking on a given aspect of the discussion.
One thing jumped
out at me as something that might spark a discussion, and that is the dance
performed at Herod’s birthday (25). I’m
not sure the goal of the dance per se was to ‘persuade Herod to kill
John the Baptist,’ though that was certainly an end result. The daughter’s goal was merely to please
Herod and his (male) guests (Mark 6:22).
At 121 8.5” x 11”
double-spaced pages (my copy lacks page 122, da Silva’s C.V.), this first
edition print-on-demand book is pretty slender despite the wealth of
information it contains. In a smaller
size with a different font, it might feel more substantial. It is, however, not lightweight in any other
way.
There are some
typos here and there, too, mostly around the numbering and formatting of just a
few footnotes, and sometimes a dropped word, but overall, this is a
thoughtfully done academic paper in book form.
Overall, this is a
great introduction to a complex topic.
Da Silva tells us where we are going and then takes us there. We cover a lot of ground, from archaeology to
mysticism, but not once did I feel as if I were on my own, even in the midst of
the discussion about the relationship between music and neurology and
psychology. In fact, da Silva is quite
adept at presenting heavy material at a level appropriate for the reader.
I almost want to
join a choir now, or at least to revisit the piano as a tool for tying hymns to
sermons. This book provides greater
understanding at several levels, especially in how we experience music from
within.
In its current
form, I recommend this book to anyone who plays music in church and wants to
know more about how we got to where we are today. Non-church people might not be attracted to
this kind of book, but I know some church pastors who might be quite
interested. All I would change is the
format, and to fix the few errors in the text.
A great effort by
a good man and a great husband and father.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Book Review - Blue Note Preaching in a Post-Soul World
Moss III, Otis. Blue
Note Preaching in a Post-Soul World: Finding Hope in an Age of Despair. Westminster
John Knox Press, 2015. xvi + 127 pp.
Softcover.
Originally presented
as a series of Lyman-Beecher lectures at Yale Divinity
School, this slim book
includes three chapters, each based on an individual lecture, and four sermons which
serve as illustrative examples for the material covered in the lectures. Moss talks not just about preaching, but also
about the history of Black, or ‘blue note,’ preaching, what Valentino Lassiter
calls ‘the African American preaching heritage’ (Lassiter, preface, 9). Like Lassiter, Moss notes that modern day
preaching often fails to address contemporary needs. His lecture series and this book seek to
correct that situation.
This review offers
a brief summary of the book followed by a critique, and concludes with an
assessment and recommendation for the intended audience.
There are as many
styles and approaches to preaching as there are preachers. Moss adds his voice to a long list of
authorities on preaching, including his mentor Fred Craddock, David Buttrick,
Thomas Long, Kirk Jones, and others. His
influences are many, from Howard Thurman, Abraham Heschel, Martin Luther King,
Jr., Frank A. Thomas, Henry Emerson Fosdick, and his parents, Edwina and Otis. This book could sit on the shelf next to
Jones’ The Jazz of Preaching, as the
two authors both apply musical metaphors to the subject.
Moss intends to
show preachers – any preacher – how to ‘effectively communicate hope in a
desperate and difficult world’ (according to the publisher’s description). Preaching with a ‘Blue Note sensibility,’
that is, preaching with a blues aesthetic (Moss, xiii) as it developed in the
black American church in the South, is prophetic preaching; a ‘Blue Note
sensibility’ preaches about tragedy but refuses to fall into despair (6).
Writing from the
perspective of the black preaching tradition, Moss wants to recover and reclaim
this tradition from today’s church ‘where Christianity is nothing more than
capitalism in drag’ (4). Blue Note
preaching is meant to challenge the church and the preacher: ‘America is living stormy Monday, but the pulpit
is preaching happy Sunday’ (4).
Preaching the Blues tradition is now lost ‘in the clamor of material
blessing, success without work, prayer without public concern, and preaching
without burdens’ (4). Moss wants
preaching to regain a literary sensibility, prophetic speech, and a powerful
cultural critique, and names exemplars of each genre, for example, Flannery O’Connor,
Martin Luther King, Jr., and Dorothee Solle (4-5).
For Moss, Blue
Note preaching is an oral art, rooted in sound not the printed page, nor is it confined
to the pulpit. It reaches the head,
heart, and hopes of the hearer. It is
performed in the sense of ‘using all sensory resources to communicate’ to
others, and not performed in the sense of being entertainment (36). Elsewhere, Moss says that the preacher ‘paints
with a homiletical brush upon a spiritual canvas’ (34) but also includes a
level of musicality (40). Blue Note
preaching is many things save for the preacher reading an essay from the
pulpit. And yet, Moss says, there is a
danger in preaching, for ‘preaching brings the purveyor into contact with a
world of conflict and contradiction’ (34).
Amen to that.
In chapter 3, Moss
develops the metaphor of digital/mobile culture versus analog/stationary
culture. The digital culture informs
Blue Note homiletics. There is always
something new being created from the old. Jesus moved the culture, metaphorically
speaking, from an analog to a mobile, digital culture. The introduction of movable type and the
printing of the Guttenberg Bible further pushed the culture into a digital
framework even as it was only part of a stationary, analog culture in terms of
who had access to it (48-50). This
analog-digital culture shift is occurring around us all time, and challenges the
preacher.
Moss is speaking
mainly to preachers, specifically black preachers but anyone who steps into the
pulpit on Sunday is welcome to apply what he has to say. This is a challenging book; not everyone will
be comfortable with what they read. As a
‘person of pallor’ reading this book, my responses ranged from feeling excluded
in some ways from this amazing-sounding tradition to feeling inspired to
include in my own preaching Moss’ call for preachers ‘to stare in the darkness
and speak the Blues with authority and witness the work of God’ (9). This preaching style ought to be valid not
only for black American preachers but to anyone who proclaims the good news of Jesus
and his ministry in their preaching.
Moss’ intent, I believe, is to open up the pulpit to powerful witness from
any source and not to preach the saccharine platitudes of a ‘happy Sunday’ (4). Our world, Moss writes, has been designed by
shadows, not truth (30).
In a time of civil
unrest, Moss sheds light on (a) how we can address the current sense of
despair, and (b) provides insight to preachers for ways to address contemporary
issues in authentic, relevant ways. This
book offers a good start for anyone to whom this is news. If you are a text-based, immobile preacher,
this might be unsettling stuff. For a
book based on a short lecture series, Moss presents his material in a logical,
coherent way with the caveat that some fine-tuning, some light editing, might
help tighten it up, but to do this is to risk stifling Moss’ engaging voice
which comes through on every page. He
quotes blues tunes, Scripture passages; he brings in just about every musical
form from classical to hip-hop. There
are a few typos – Larry Byrd? Hey, Moss
isn’t from Boston,
so we’ll let it go.
Mostly, we hear
Moss telling us to study out of our tradition. Blue Note preaching challenges us to do the
work, study our craft, and develop our own voices (61). Though Moss sometimes repeats himself and
occasionally makes the odd claim, this book is appropriate for its intended
audience. Moss displays some
showmanship, enthusiasm, and the movement of the Spirit through both the
lectures and the sermons (number four, How to Get Away with Murder, is
worth the price of the book).
The book is
significant and timely, given the recent situation in Ferguson, Missouri
and the Black Lives Matter protests. Moss
is biased toward preaching the truth and shedding light on injustice. His background as a preacher at Trinity United
Church of Christ in Chicago
makes him credible and persuasive. This
work is a useful addition to any preacher’s library, particularly to a
non-black audience that seeks understanding and new methods of proclaiming the
Gospel.
Critically
speaking, the book isn’t perfect but it comes close and it does the job as the
author intended it to. In terms of
presenting his ideas in an authentic voice, Moss hits a home run. He taught me that my way of preaching needs
to open up and he gave me ways to do that. There is much food for thought in this little
book and I would recommend it to anyone who preaches, period.
References
Valentino Lassiter, Martin Luther King in the African
American Preaching Tradition. Cleveland: The Pilgrim
Press, 2001.
Kirk Byron Jones, The
Jazz of Preaching: How to Preach with Great Freedom and Joy. Nashville:
Abingdon Press, 2004.
Saturday, March 5, 2016
Service & Devotion
Based on Luke 10:38-42
This is one of four meals that Luke tells us about on Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. Here, Jesus enters “a certain village” – it doesn’t matter which one, but the Gospel according to John tells us that it’s Bethany.
A woman named Martha welcomes him into her home. She has no husband living with her, just her sister Mary, and maybe her brother Lazarus, who is not part of this story, which occurs only in Luke’s Gospel. Luke wants us to know that Martha is an independent woman of means. Elsewhere, she is portrayed as one who supports Jesus’ ministry financially.
Her sister Mary sits at the feet of Jesus, symbolizing her status as a disciple, a role usually reserved for men. As a disciple, she has left everything in order to follow Jesus.
Now remember where we are – first century Israel, not twenty-first century Massachusetts. What both women are doing is unheard of and would be quite shocking – radical, even – to the first hearers of the story. It was meant to shock, or the lesson would be lost. This is typical – Jesus continually turns the world upside-down and challenges us to see familiar things in new ways. Nothing is ever exactly what it seems, and expectations are often shattered.
This is a story about extremes. Martha’s distractions are rooted in the real world. But her obsession with getting her work done before she can allow herself to hear the Word of the Lord has thrown her life into disorder. Her cares block her path to her devotion to Jesus. She never seems to be at home, so to speak, in the presence of God. But Mary, by setting aside everything else, exemplifies the commandment to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind. She delights being in God’s presence. Jesus says there is really only one thing, and Mary has chosen it. Apart from this, nothing matters, even ministry.
Concern for the realities of life is valid, of course, but Luke doesn’t provide an easy answer to the problem. Instead, he maintains the tension between two extreme and opposing truths: Martha’s real-world concerns and Mary’s complete devotion.
But in John’s Gospel, Martha, who serves, shows greater faith in Jesus than does Mary, the disciple. Mary devotes her life to listening to what Jesus is saying because her faith – her trust and reliance in Jesus – needs nurturing; it’s growing. Martha, on the other hand, overwhelmed by her ministry of service, shows great faith in Jesus. Maybe Luke wants to shine a light on why we do what we do in the Lord’s name.
As it happens, in the passage immediately before today’s reading, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. That story and today’s story about Martha and Mary go hand in hand; in fact, we should probably always read them together, because one story teaches us about love for the neighbor who needs our help and the other teaches about love for and devotion to God. And these happen to be the two greatest commandments.
The story of the Samaritan teaches us to open our hearts to those in need, and today’s story reminds us that there is also a time to listen and reflect, to love God with our entire being. There’s a collective lesson, and a balance to strike, between the two.
Luke (and also John in his Gospel) uses Martha as the symbol of dedicated service and Mary as the symbol of dedicated discipleship. It’s hard work either way.
The two stories also expose the injustice of social barriers, barriers that put people into categories, barriers that restrict and oppress various groups in a society. To love God with all our heart and our neighbors as ourselves means we must reject society’s rules and restrictions in favor of God’s kingdom, a kingdom without boundaries and distinctions between its members. God’s rules are radically different from society’s rules; this is one reason why Jesus’ teachings all seem to flip the world upside-down – because it needs flipping!
Daniel Migliore reminds us that, united in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are one community, members of one body and mutually dependent on one another.
Our challenge, as disciples of Jesus, is to balance our real-life distractions with our place at the feet of the Lord; to not only “go and do” as God’s servants but to also sit and listen and learn, and to recognize, resist, and break down the barriers that society creates in order to exclude and separate one group from another, or to prevent us from hearing the Word of God. Luke has packed so much into just a few verses of Gospel.
And Jesus hasn’t made it easy for us. We are forced to make up our own minds about how to resolve our work life with our spiritual life, and in how we build the beloved community in a world-flipping faith. Jesus challenges us to live our faith to its fullest. He doesn’t expect us to be comfortable in it. But we need to hear the Word of God; we cannot survive without it.
There is need of only one thing: service and devotion together, with faith-building devotion being first. Love the Lord first. Love the Lord always. And take delight in the Lord. Choose the better part, as the song in Psalm 84:1-3 says:
Amen.
Daniel L. Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Erdmans Publishing Co., 2004), 229.
This is one of four meals that Luke tells us about on Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. Here, Jesus enters “a certain village” – it doesn’t matter which one, but the Gospel according to John tells us that it’s Bethany.
A woman named Martha welcomes him into her home. She has no husband living with her, just her sister Mary, and maybe her brother Lazarus, who is not part of this story, which occurs only in Luke’s Gospel. Luke wants us to know that Martha is an independent woman of means. Elsewhere, she is portrayed as one who supports Jesus’ ministry financially.
Her sister Mary sits at the feet of Jesus, symbolizing her status as a disciple, a role usually reserved for men. As a disciple, she has left everything in order to follow Jesus.
Now remember where we are – first century Israel, not twenty-first century Massachusetts. What both women are doing is unheard of and would be quite shocking – radical, even – to the first hearers of the story. It was meant to shock, or the lesson would be lost. This is typical – Jesus continually turns the world upside-down and challenges us to see familiar things in new ways. Nothing is ever exactly what it seems, and expectations are often shattered.
This is a story about extremes. Martha’s distractions are rooted in the real world. But her obsession with getting her work done before she can allow herself to hear the Word of the Lord has thrown her life into disorder. Her cares block her path to her devotion to Jesus. She never seems to be at home, so to speak, in the presence of God. But Mary, by setting aside everything else, exemplifies the commandment to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind. She delights being in God’s presence. Jesus says there is really only one thing, and Mary has chosen it. Apart from this, nothing matters, even ministry.
Concern for the realities of life is valid, of course, but Luke doesn’t provide an easy answer to the problem. Instead, he maintains the tension between two extreme and opposing truths: Martha’s real-world concerns and Mary’s complete devotion.
But in John’s Gospel, Martha, who serves, shows greater faith in Jesus than does Mary, the disciple. Mary devotes her life to listening to what Jesus is saying because her faith – her trust and reliance in Jesus – needs nurturing; it’s growing. Martha, on the other hand, overwhelmed by her ministry of service, shows great faith in Jesus. Maybe Luke wants to shine a light on why we do what we do in the Lord’s name.
As it happens, in the passage immediately before today’s reading, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. That story and today’s story about Martha and Mary go hand in hand; in fact, we should probably always read them together, because one story teaches us about love for the neighbor who needs our help and the other teaches about love for and devotion to God. And these happen to be the two greatest commandments.
The story of the Samaritan teaches us to open our hearts to those in need, and today’s story reminds us that there is also a time to listen and reflect, to love God with our entire being. There’s a collective lesson, and a balance to strike, between the two.
Luke (and also John in his Gospel) uses Martha as the symbol of dedicated service and Mary as the symbol of dedicated discipleship. It’s hard work either way.
The two stories also expose the injustice of social barriers, barriers that put people into categories, barriers that restrict and oppress various groups in a society. To love God with all our heart and our neighbors as ourselves means we must reject society’s rules and restrictions in favor of God’s kingdom, a kingdom without boundaries and distinctions between its members. God’s rules are radically different from society’s rules; this is one reason why Jesus’ teachings all seem to flip the world upside-down – because it needs flipping!
Daniel Migliore reminds us that, united in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are one community, members of one body and mutually dependent on one another.
Our challenge, as disciples of Jesus, is to balance our real-life distractions with our place at the feet of the Lord; to not only “go and do” as God’s servants but to also sit and listen and learn, and to recognize, resist, and break down the barriers that society creates in order to exclude and separate one group from another, or to prevent us from hearing the Word of God. Luke has packed so much into just a few verses of Gospel.
And Jesus hasn’t made it easy for us. We are forced to make up our own minds about how to resolve our work life with our spiritual life, and in how we build the beloved community in a world-flipping faith. Jesus challenges us to live our faith to its fullest. He doesn’t expect us to be comfortable in it. But we need to hear the Word of God; we cannot survive without it.
There is need of only one thing: service and devotion together, with faith-building devotion being first. Love the Lord first. Love the Lord always. And take delight in the Lord. Choose the better part, as the song in Psalm 84:1-3 says:
How lovely is your dwelling place, O God!
My soul yearns, even faints, to be in your courts.
My heart, my whole body sings for joy to the living God.
Even the sparrow finds a home at your altars, wherever they may be – even the sparrow.
Amen.
Daniel L. Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Erdmans Publishing Co., 2004), 229.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Justice for the Widow
Mark 12:38-44
As he taught, he said, ‘Beware
of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with
respect in the market-places, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places
of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance
say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.’
He sat down opposite the
treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich
people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper
coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them,
‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who
are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their
abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she
had to live on.’
Who has heard this story
before? What do you hear in it? For most churches, this passage
serves as an entry into Stewardship Season where pledges are pledged and
congregations hear about money in Scripture, usually for the first time all
year. Greed is examined as an un-Christian thing, and we are told that it
is the love of money that is the root of all evil. The pursuit of
wealth is frowned upon yet we are told to be generous in our giving.
Money, charity, and injustice are somehow tied together.
André Resner calls the
widow in today’s passage ‘the patron saint of stewardship Sunday,’ which
happens to be today in the United Church of Christ. She is raised up as
the model example of sacrificial giving. I have heard sermons that have
basically asked, "Why can’t we all be more like her? If we all just took
the money from our favorite Dunkin’ Donuts Iced Latte Frappachino Surprise one
time every week, we could raise our pledge dollars by so much and that would
bump the budget up to here and look at all the good stuff we could do as a
result – the widow, after all, gave everything so why can’t we?"
Do you see how that has nothing
to do with what Jesus wants us to see?
Beware of the scribes,
Jesus said; they devour widows’ houses. We are called to care for widows
and orphans in their distress (James 1:27); God said we are not to abuse any
widow or orphan (Exodus 22:22); the Lord upholds the orphan and the widow but
the way of the wicked is brought to ruin (Psalm 146:9). Widows and
orphans have a special place in God’s heart and therefore, their wellbeing
ought to inform our sense of justice.
Unlike the scribes in
today’s reading, our giving ought to sustain those who can ill afford to give
all that they have. We would preach against poverty, not encourage it.
Justice and charity need
each other. Charity, though, often falls short of providing essential
needs. Arthur Simon, founder of Bread for the World, once
pointed out that the two wealthiest districts in Manhattan have had more soup kitchens than
the two poorest districts simply because of where the donors, not the hungry
people, were located. Food banks can fill a hole but are unable on their
own to solve the persistent problem of hunger unless we also make changes to
public policy.
Jesus is not here to
praise the widow’s extreme giving; he is here to lament it. He is calling
us to be better stewards of both our financial resources and of our faith
community. The good news is that God sees what is really going on even
when no one else does. God is present for the widow and God will be
present for us as we begin the work of fulfilling our responsibilities to the
least among us. This, I think, is the primary purpose of the church.
Amen.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Tax Break Conversations?
"The EITC and CTC prevent more people from falling into poverty than any other program outside of Social Security." EITC is the earned-income tax credit. CTC is the child tax credit. These two tax credits are designed specifically to benefit low-income working families, of which we have many in this country.
The U.S. Senate Finance Committee discussed expired tax benefits for two hours on July 21. Amelia Kegan, deputy director of government relations at Bread for the World, describes what happened in her report here. Read the whole thing; it's only one page.
We the people support tax credits for all sorts of things, and we subsidize all sorts of industries, from oil exploration to cotton farming. Not all recipients need or require tax credits or subsidies all the time. Subsidies have their own pros and cons. Farm subsidies, for example, can lift up farmers in a bad growing year, but can also exert a negative effect on the environment.
Unfortunately, most tax credits and subsidies are buried in complex legislation that, it seems, relies on its own immensity to hide the details from the view of the average person. The latest Farm Bill, for example, is like that. In fact, President Obama likened it to a Swiss Army knife:
Not all of that has anything to do with farming. So read Kegan's column. Wonder why tax reform is such a difficult topic for elected officials to wrestle with. Consider asking your own elected officials what's up with that. It will be an interesting conversation.
Peace.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Ever Before Me
Based on Psalm 51:1-12; 2
Samuel 11:26-12:13a
A friend in Maine
has a bumper sticker – one of many – on her pickup truck that reads: “If you’re
not OUTRAGED, you’re not paying attention.”
According to the BBC, in March, 2011, pro-democracy
protests erupted in the Syrian
city of Deraa
after the arrest and torture of some teenagers who had spray-painted revolutionary slogans on a wall. By July, nationwide protests demanded
President Bashar al-Assad’s resignation.
One thing led to another and the country descended into civil war. Since
then, some 200,000 people have been killed; 11,000,000 displaced from their
homes; and 3,900,000 live as refugees in other countries.
CNN reported in April that North Korean leader Kim Jong Un had ordered the
executions of 15 government officials so far this year, based on information provided
by the South Korean National Intelligence Service. For example, one senior official with the
Ministry of Forestry was executed for expressing dissatisfaction with the
country's forestry program.
Neither
Assad in Syria nor Kim Jong Un in North Korea can afford to allow any dissent
or challenges to their authority, and so their default position is to crush it
completely. How might things be
different in their respective countries today had they a Nathan of their own to
tell them parables about the abuse of power.
Psalm 51 is one of about a dozen psalms that
respond to a specific situation in Scripture.
Thus, the context for Psalm 51 comes from today’s reading from Second
Samuel, and it is a psalm of David, not by David. But let’s forget David for a minute; these
twelve verses become highly personal and affecting when we hear them with our
own situations in mind.
The
root of Sin is a distorted or broken relationship with God, and we know
it when it happens, as in verse 3: “I know my transgressions, and my sin is
ever before me.” We tend to be pretty
quick with our Sunday assurances of pardon, but we can’t just wave our sin away with words. We need to face up to our sin as David
did. Our confession of sin implies the need
for a clean heart and a new spirit.
This
is God's judgment: that we need purging 'with hyssop;' we need wisdom; we need
to acknowledge our iniquities, our transgressions. Only then can forgiveness and reconciliation
with our neighbors occur. Only then can
God create in us a clean heart and a new spirit.
Imagine
how difficult it must be to continually dodge the truth that we have sinned
before the Lord; how much physical and emotional energy that must take. Do you think Bashar al-Assad thought at all
about the toll the civil war must be having on Syria's people, or is the
enormity of his sin so great that he can't even speak about it? Closer to home, do we ever wonder about the
toll exacted upon our homeless population by policies that seem to be helpful
when all they actually do is frustrate and make the problem worse. At what point do we lose our compassion and
fall into the sin of complacency and inaction?
Nathan
tells his parable in such a way that David becomes outraged by the rich man’s
behavior only to realize that they are his own actions, his own sin. And it is a rude awakening. I think it would be quite humbling, not to
mention shaming, to hear Nathan say, “You are the man! You are the one without compassion!” When do we become outraged by our own
behavior?
The Bible scholar Patrick Miller wrote that
Psalm 51 “bids us open our eyes to look for evidence” that wickedness leads to
its own destruction “in a world that is shaped and governed by God’s moral
order.” The al-Assad’s of the
world will be defeated by the weight of their own sin.
Psalm 51 is a reaction to Nathan’s parable
and David comes up against the hard truth that his sin is ever before him. Thomas Long, a professor at Candler School of
Theology in Atlanta,
wrote in response that “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall tear you
apart.” This truth is only bearable by
God’s grace and willingness to judge us and restore us.
There is a moment in reading Psalm 51 when we
know ourselves to be forgiven. That moment
represents a new beginning which we owe to a faithful God of steadfast love and
abundant mercy.
Which brings us to Jesus: today’s Gospel
reading from John finds Jesus in Capernaum
immediately after the feeding of the five thousand. The crowd continues to follow him, Jesus
said, “not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the
loaves.” Who wouldn’t follow a prophet
who also provides a buffet?
So
they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we
may see it and believe you? What work
are you performing?” Of course, Jesus
himself is the sign. And the connection
to Psalm 51 is this: the work Jesus is performing, then and today, is to
cleanse us from our sin; to put a new and right spirit within us; to create in
us a clean heart; and to reconcile us one with each other. Through Jesus, our relationship with God is
restored. That’s what I hear when I read
the psalm and the gospel together.
Psalm 51 includes tension, challenge, and
promise. It speaks of places
within us where we don’t want to go. It
also celebrates redemption and God’s steadfast love. The afflictions we deal with in this psalm
are spiritual. Our bodies are not broken
but our relationships with God and our resistance to God are. The psalm also gives us an awareness of God’s
saving action and cleansing ways. When
we say “thy will be done,” we free ourselves to be filled with the will and
grace of God.
The
good news here is that God can and will restore the relationships we have broken. We are not doomed to remain in a cycle of
sin, repentance, and forgiveness followed only by more sin. Through this psalm, we can see both our past
and God’s future for us with new understanding. God will create in us a new beginning, sustain
us in times of spiritual drought, and restore to us the joy of God’s salvation.
Maybe
it’s time for our friend to get a new bumper sticker that reads: “If you’re not paying attention, God have
mercy.”
Amen.
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