For My Sake

A Sermon for the 11^th Sunday after Pentecost (RCL A) 8-28-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 105:1-6,23-26,45c; Matthew 16:21-28

Themes:         Moses and the burning bush, God’s deliverance, self-denial
Title:               For My Sake

My dear sisters and brothers in the Lord: What does it mean to set the mind on divine things rather than on human things?

It’s been rather difficult this past week to set the mind on anything but Hurricane Irene!

The way the news media played this thing up, you might think it was Armageddon and the end of the world!

But the Lord rebuked Peter for setting his mind on human things rather than on divine things, as we just heard, and that is a powerful message which all human beings need to ponder carefully. 

Once Peter made his great confession of faith in Jesus as the Messiah who has come to set the people free, he seemed overtaken by the sudden realization of the immense value of their leader.

And so Peter, quite naturally, wished to protect Jesus and to keep him from harm. This is what we do with all of the things that are valuable to us – we protect them and keep them from harm.

But Jesus responded with one of his “hard sayings”, as they are called. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Do you notice how Jesus begins this saying, what he identifies as the motivating factor for this path of self-denial?

“If any want to become my followers…”

There can never be any denial of the voluntary principle if we are to be a spiritually healthy community. Human beings have to choose. Our dignity demands that we make the choices that affect our lives and our futures.

Look at the example of Moses. Even in the midst of this amazing, life-changing encounter where God reveals God’s own name personality, the voluntary principle is respected. Moses has the right to argue over this task with the Lord. Moses even has the right to say no to this task, if he so wished. He could have said, “No thanks, I’ve got a good and stress-free life right now here in Midian and I think I’ll just keep it like that.” In a sense, God presents the sight of the burning bush in order to persuade Moses to agree to this task. When dealing with human beings, even God – our Creator – works by persuasion and not by compulsion. 

Consider the so-called “Mandatory Evacuations” that have been in place over the last few days along the east coast. They are called “mandatory” but I’ll bet that you’ve seen folks interviewed who have decided to stay put in some coastal town. Thankfully, it seems that our government authorities are not able to force people to live. And that is as it should be.

St. Clement of Alexandria is reputed to have written this axiom of deep truth: “Compulsion is repugnant to God.” It is repugnant to God and it is also repugnant to human beings!

We must be able to choose. We instinctively recoil against anyone who attempts to force us. The basic tool of those governments and groups who torture their prisoners is to take away their dignity, to take away their ability to choose, to control everything so that the prisoners feel that they no longer have any control themselves at all.

What God seeks is people who will serve and love God and the world simply because they choose to do so! I have heard a modern parable about Jesus and his disciples during their days together in Galilee. This is not in the Gospels, but I think that it does communicate truth to us.

Jesus and his disciples are together walking along the road one morning when Jesus turns and tells the disciples, “I would like you to carry a stone for me. Now, come and follow me.” Then he turned and began to walk on. Simon Peter, being a very simple and practical man, picked up a small stone in his hand and began to follow along. After all, the Lord said nothing about the size or mass of the stone to be carried.

Around mid-day, Jesus asked the disciples to stop and be seated. He gave thanks to Abba for all of the gifts of the day, and when he had finished, all of the stones being carried by the disciples had turned into bread. And so they ate lunch together. But Simon Peter’s lunch was over with just one mouthful!

Once they finished, Jesus stood up and once again said, “I would like you to carry a stone for me. Now, come and follow me.” And he turned and began to walk on. Peter said to himself, “OK, now I get it. This stone will be for supper!” So he found a small boulder and, though it was difficult, he brought it up onto his shoulder and began to walk on. And as he did, he thought to himself, “Man, I can’t wait for supper!”

But in just a few hours, the Lord stopped as they crossed a small stream and he asked his disciples to throw their stones into the stream. Then he turned and began to walk on.

But now the disciples were grumbling and confused, and Peter especially began to complain and grumble. And the Lord turned and said to him, “Peter, what is the matter? Have you forgotten? For whom were you carrying that stone?”

You see, Jesus had asked them to carry a stone for him! But quickly they began to think only in terms of what they themselves were going to get out of this labor, rather than offering their service simply because their beloved Teacher and Master had asked for it.

But that is not love, my friends. God cannot force it, but what God longs to find in us is the desire, the longing, simply to serve without any regard of what we might get out it.

As soon as begin to bargain, we know that we’ve lost sight of the path. As soon as we say, “Well, Lord, I’ve been a faithful church-goer all my life. Surely then I deserve some protection or special blessing…”

But as soon as we go down that path of trying to negotiate something special for ourselves, then we’ve lost sight of love and service.

For whom are we carrying our stones? For whom do we gather for worship? For whose sake do we serve in the church, or take care of our loved ones, or work so hard to put food on the table?

If all of this is not done for the sake of Jesus Christ alone, then we’ve missed the path to true joy and peace and life. “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

May we always be among those who are willing to serve simply because God asks us to do so, and without any desire or motivation to secure any benefit by so doing for ourselves. Amen.

The Plight of the Hebrews

A Sermon for the 10^th Sunday after Pentecost (RCL A) 8-21-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

 Texts:              Exodus 1:8-2:10; Psalm 124; (Romans 12:1-8); Matthew 16:13-20

Themes:         Moses in the river, the confession of Peter, church built on the rock
Title:               The Plight of the Hebrews

It is not very often that you will hear me refer to the ideas of Charles Darwin as we reflect together here in worship. Not because I necessarily reject all of his thoughts and theories about the evolution of species, but because it is rare that his thoughts have any direct bearing upon our journey of faith as a Christian community.

But today is an exception. This morning, as we reflect together upon this story of oppression from the first chapter of the book of Exodus, I want to begin with a summary of Darwin’s thoughts about the process of natural selection: it is not the ones who are the strongest or who are the most intelligent which survive, but rather it is those who are most able to adapt to change who are the ones to survive and thrive.

However true this might be of biological processes, let me suggest to you that this is even more true in the spiritual realm, in the human journey of faith.

It is true here in the situation of the children of Israel during their sojourn in the land of Egypt.

Today’s reading from Exodus begins the cycle of state-sponsored violence and oppression of the immigrants which ends, finally, in God’s liberation of the people from the hand of Pharaoh.

For the first time in the Bible, the descendents of Abraham are here referred to as “Hebrews.”

Today, we are accustomed to thinking of this term as referring to the Jewish people, but at the time of the writing of the Pentateuch – these first 5 books of Moses, the term “Hebrew” in fact referred to any group of people on the margins of society who were landless and without social standing.

“Hebrews” were people who were distrusted and excluded from mainstream society, because they were different.

Wherever they were found, and from wherever they had come, the “Hebrews” were looked upon with suspicion by the majority of the dominant society around them.

God had promised life and land to the children of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and they were sent to Egypt by the hand of Providence in order to preserve their lives during a time of drought and famine.

But now, their presence in Egypt has become a problem. The very blessing of God upon them has become a threat to the Egyptians. The text states that the Israelites “multiplied and became very strong” because of God’s favor. The Egyptian empire rejected this blessing and sought to nullify it by human violence. Murder, genocide, slavery and oppression were the means by which Egypt was to adapt to this changing situation, but their methods would come back to haunt them.  

Most of you know that I find great inspiration from the early thinkers and preachers of the Church who wrote mostly in Greek during the first 5 centuries after the Resurrection. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that one cannot understand the Church or the Gospel at all without some reference to the thoughts of these great men – and they were nearly all men, unfortunately.

But it was these men, after all, who have left to us the great Creeds of the Church, as well as our foundational understanding of who God is and who Jesus is.

Christ is the foundation of this house – this community called the Church. The apostles provided the basic structure of the house, and it is these great thinkers who have painted the house and have set it in order with useful rooms and furniture, so to speak.

But for all of their greatness, these early Church fathers have some very obvious weaknesses. Their complete immersion in the Greek philosophical worldview gave them an assumed framework of thinking outside of which they seemed hardly able to imagine anything else. 

And so, in their commentaries on the book of Exodus, with its tale of Egyptian cruelty and enslavement of the children of Jacob, what we hear from the early fathers is classic Greek spiritual allegory: that is, how the Pharaoh represents the devil, and the mortar and bricks required of the children of Israel represents the deeds of the flesh that the devil demands from us in order to keep us from the worship of God.

For example, listen to this quote from a writing of St. Augustine: “We have been led out of Egypt where we were serving the devil as a pharaoh, where we were doing works of clay amid earthly desires, and we were laboring much in them. For Christ cried out to us, as if we were making bricks: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened.’” (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy: P.3).

Now, in my humble opinion, that is a bunch of utter nonsense. I mean, what he says here is fine, I suppose, but it is shocking just how blithely Augustine can ignore the horrific reality of the situation!

The Israelites were trapped in slavery by the cruel hand of a powerful empire which required an abundance of cheap labor in order to build its monuments and cities and highways. Their babies were being killed by this empire, because of fear and greed!

And God was opposed to that empire; God intended for these slaves to be strong and free.

What is amazing to me is that Augustine and the other early church fathers could not see the most obvious connection between the oppression and forced labor of the Egyptian empire, and the slavery and forced labor of the Roman Empire which they themselves supported!

You see: historians estimate that nearly one-third of all the human beings in the realm of the Roman Empire were slaves in one form or another. That’s one of out every three people living in slavery!

The truth is that the supposed glories of Rome were impossible within the forced labor of millions of human beings, as were the previous glories of the Egyptian empire.

But this God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob is the same God of Christ and the apostles, and this God moved decisively to break the power of the slave-masters, and to set the captives free!

Augustine and the others could not see it. They could not see past the assumed worldview of what they had been taught as normal and acceptable.

This highlights the crucial reality that all of us must pay attention to our blind spots – that we must, if we are to be true, continuously question those things which we take for granted.

It is our assumptions that must be continually questioned. This, I believe, is one of the greatest gifts that Jesus Christ brings to us, and it is one of the gifts that can heal the world: the ability to look without fear and to see the truth which sets us free, to adapt and change without fear.   

I remember the first time when God shined light upon the assumptions of my youth and forced me to consider the truth and falsehoods of my blind spots.

I was in Africa, in Botswana, and I had picked up a book called “The Challenge of Basic Christian Communities.” In this book from the 1980’s, one of the essays suggested that Christian people ought to look to Cuba as an example of what a Christian society could be.

Instantly, that seemed like the most ridiculous idea I could imagine. What? Everyone knows that Cuba is bad, right? Cuba is evil. Cuba is the enemy. That is what I had always been taught as a normal American child growing up here, and I had never even thought twice about it.

And yet, here was a respected Christian teacher suggesting that Cuba might be a model for a different, yet healthy Christian society.

That moment began for me a long process of questioning the unspoken assumptions of what I had been taught and of considering that there are other perspectives by which one can understand the world.

Please don’t misunderstand me: I am not trying to make a positive statement about the socialist government of Cuba. I am not a political scientist; I am a teacher of the Christian faith.

What is important here is that all of us have blind spots in our thinking and in our understanding of the world. All of us, even the greatest thinkers of all, the most intelligent people, carry unspoken assumptions about life and the world which have the potential to blind us to “the truth as it is in Jesus” (Ephesians 4:21), to close our minds to the fullness of God’s design and intention for our life.

Pharaoh assumed that he held the power of life and death in his hand, that he could use and abuse the powerless Hebrews however he wished. But he was wrong.

St. Augustine assumed that slavery was a normal and accepted part of a Christian society, that God was not interested in human freedom and liberty on this earth. But he was wrong.

Most Americans today assume that slavery is over, a thing of the past, and that freedom and liberty are growing around the world. But they are wrong.

Slavery continues to this present day, because fear and greed continue today.

A recent report highlighted the reality of slavery among tomato growers in Florida. In the last decade, 7 prosecutions have been successfully argued in cases of slavery by the Justice Department in Florida, and over 1000 people have been set free. In some cases, these people, these “Hebrews” in the most original and fundamental sense of that name, were being held in chains, were being sold, and if they refused to work as demanded, they were being shot and killed. (See http://www.gourmet.com/foodpolitics/2009/03/politics-of-the-plate-tomato-slaves-follow-up)  

Is this an acceptable part of the bargain of contemporary life, so that you and I can enjoy fresh tomatoes in the middle of winter, while ignoring the fact that they were harvested by slaves?

Have we as a people forgotten that God is the one who sets the captives free? Do we even care?

What are the assumptions in our minds that blind us to the truth in our world?

How will we adapt and change so that we can stand with the God who sets the captives free, and stand against the empire that demands cheap labor to build its wealth?

How will we live in order to show forth the power of God among all peoples?

Like the Dew of Hermon

A Sermon for 9 Pentecost (RCL A) 8-14-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

 Texts:              Genesis 45:1-15; Psalm 133; Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15:21-28

Themes:         The Gift and Challenge of Family
Title:               Like the Dew of Hermon                 

My brothers and sisters in Christ: think for a moment about your family of origin, the household in which you grew up. What was it like? Was it a peaceful place, or was it full of strife and conflict?

Our families can provide us with an incalculable reservoir of strength throughout our lives.

The Psalmist spoke the truth when he said: “How good and pleasant it is when brethren live together in unity!”

But what is also the truth, and that which the psalmist failed to add, is how rare and surprising it is when siblings live together in unity! 

If you are not familiar with the entire story of Joseph, I encourage you to sit down and read it sometime soon. It is a fantastic and a wonderful story, drawn across the second half of the book of Genesis, beginning in the 37^th Chapter.

If you gathered with your brothers and sisters last week for worship, then you will recall that fact that Joseph was sold into slavery by his flesh-and-blood brothers who hated him, barely escaping being murdered by them due to the prudence of the oldest son, Rueben.

Today we heard the story of their eventual reunion, after a long and bewildering and surprising journey. By the guidance of the hand of Providence, Joseph has become the right-hand man of the Pharaoh of Egypt. Joseph now is one of the most powerful human beings on earth, and his brothers have unknowingly come to him in order to buy food from the Pharaoh during a time of severe famine.

As they ask and plead for help, they do not realize that the man before them is Joseph. How could they? The very thought would have been ridiculous, and impossible for them to suggest.

Joseph, however, knows exactly who they are. With great determination, and what we call a great poker face, he hides his emotions throughout their request for help. His youngest full brother, Benjamin, is there, and Joseph is overwhelmed by the sight of him. He concocts a covert plan to keep Benjamin behind, but his brothers undermine this by a stirring request to protect their elderly father from further heartache, which would surely occur if he were to lose yet another son.

Finally, Joseph can control himself no longer, and here we are given the account of the revelation of his true identity to his long-estranged brothers.

It is surprising to find the great foundational stories of the Bible littered with tales of such dysfunctional family systems, even to the point of attempted fratricide by those very men who were to become the fathers and name-sakes of the 12 great tribes of Israel!

As we consider what the scriptures teach us, it is clear that God intends for our natural families to be life-giving sources of strength and identity and support as we navigate this life on the paths of truth and goodness.

In one sense, the entire salvation narrative of the Bible is structured around the idea of family and tribal identity. The 12 sons of Jacob give birth to the 12 twelve tribes of Israel, who are to function as large extended families. This tribal/family identity retains its power even for the apostle Paul, who identifies himself with some obvious pride as “an Israelite, a descendant of Abraham, a member of the tribe of Benjamin” (Romans 11:2), that younger brother whom Joseph loved so much. 

In Jesus Christ, we discover a way by which all people can enter into the family of Abraham and into the tribes of Israel through water and the Spirit, through faith and baptism into Christ.

The earliest Christian prayers that we have speak of Jesus as our elder brother and as the child of God who has redeemed all humanity.

Our very understanding of God as Trinity implies a type of family: three persons working and living together in complete harmony and unity.

Clearly, the concept of family is central to the Gospel and the entire plan of salvation.

But just as it is seen that families are intended to be communities of blessing and wisdom, so it is just as clearly seen in Scripture that these very same families are often likely to become sources of the deepest pain and anguish. 

Consider once again the torture that Joseph had to endure at the hands of his own flesh-and-blood brothers, or the betrayal and tension we saw earlier this summer between Jacob and his brother Esau.

I am certain that there are a number of you here this morning who have likewise experienced betrayal and deep pain from members of your own family.

Thankfully, I have not had to endure anything like that from my own kin, but the challenge and struggle of being a family is fresh on my mind, since we arrived back in New Jersey just last night from two weeks of family vacation time in New Hampshire and in Canada.  

First, there are all of the little things that are frustrating to deal with. One of our goals while in Ottawa, in Canada, was to bike on the vast network of beautiful bike trails all around the city there, following along the sides of the many rivers and canals. But then, our youngest daughter twisted her ankle, and one pedal on our oldest daughters bicycle fell off. So we had to change those plans.

Then of course, we have to deal with the incessant bickering and fighting, over everything from who sits in which seat, to who has done the most dishes and who gets to use which pillow when we’re camping, etc and etc.

Our son, Angus, suddenly loves to practice all of his wrestling holds on his sisters, who – of course – subsequently scream and cry for help. Our youngest daughter, Fiona, is still learning how to speak without use of her whiny voice, if you know what I mean. And when she is tired and does not get her way, she is quick to tell us just how much she hates us, even though she makes up for it later with a hug and a kiss and an apology.  

And just trying to keep all of these people fed is a real challenge when traveling on the road.

But, at the very same time that we have to deal with all of the head-aches and stresses of family life, I know that there is a deep connection that is being built which is good and holy and life-giving.

When I listen to today’s story from the Gospel of Matthew of our Lord’s interaction with the Syrophoenician woman, what I sense is the love and devotion of a mother who is determined to find healing for her troubled daughter.

She is not one to passively accept what life sends her way. She is a mother who will fight to ensure a good future for her child.

This is the fruit of love. This kind of assiduous devotion is a true reflection of the God who is Love, the God who will not sit passively back and allow humanity to drift off into a chaotic and ill and violent future, but who fights and intervenes to open a way into a good future for all those who will embrace it.

Through the Gospel, this path of life is creating a new family of God, a new community of blessing among those who are reconciled to God and to one another through Christ.

 Thanks be to God that all of our families, all of our households – no matter the size or the type, are invited to embrace this gift and to join in this family of God which is growing and expanding across the globe, made up of brothers and sisters living together in unity. Amen.  

Wrestling with God

A Sermon for Proper 13 A – RCL (7-31-2011)

Offered by Nathan Wilson Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Genesis 32:22-31; Psalm 17:1-7,15; Matthew 14:13-21

Title:                Wrestling with God

My friends, have you ever wrestled with God?

In our reading from Genesis, we have the ancient story which explains how the name of the patriarch Jacob was changed. Did you notice how this story unfolds?

In the dark of night, in the wilderness, Jacob sits alone, preparing for his impending encounter with his brother, Esau, of whom Jacob is quite afraid. They are estranged, and Jacob is returning now to his homeland, and he expects to meet his brother in the morning, but he does not know how this meeting will unfold.

He is in the dark, in the wilderness, alone with his thoughts and his fears, until a man – a stranger - comes and wrestles with him.

Who is this mysterious man who suddenly appears and, without any warning or provocation or cause, lunges at Jacob and grasps him and engages him in a dual until the break of day? 

As you can imagine, there has been a plethora of speculation about the identity of this unknown opponent, who does not in fact seem intent on harming Jacob at all, but rather on engaging with him in some deep and important and mysterious way.

Some of the ancient rabbis said that this stranger must be an angel of God, sent to symbolize how the people of Israel were to struggle with God throughout their history. Other rabbis said that this man was the guardian angel of Esau, Jacob’s brother whom he was preparing to meet. In this instance, Esau was viewed as the rejected one, so this guardian angel was seen as a force of evil, and this match then symbolizes how the Israelites would wrestle against evil throughout their existence.

Some of the early Church fathers also thought of this wrestler as a holy angel. But a number of others suggested quite a different interpretation.

St. Hilary of Poitiers, the Bishop of that French city in the 4^th century, wrote a long prayer as a sort of meditative dialogue with Jacob as one of the holy saints of old. Listen to these quotes from that long meditation of St. Hilary:

“O holy and blessed patriarch, Jacob, be with me, be with me now by the spirit of your faith against the poisonous hissing of infidelity…What is this that you are asking from one who is weak? What do you expect from one who is feeble? This one for whose blessing you pray is the one whom you, as the more powerful, weaken by your embrace. The activity of your soul is not in harmony with the deeds of your body, for you think differently from the way you act. By your bodily motions during this struggle you keep this man helpless, but this man is for you the true God, not in name but in nature. You struggle with a man, but you behold God face to face” (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: Genesis 12-50, p. 222).   

Do you see, my friends, perhaps where this thought is headed?

Those of us who know and honor and love and follow our Lord Jesus Christ as God-in-human-flesh cannot help but see him here in this ancient story.

Ask yourself and consider: who is it that comes into the world in the dark of night as a stranger, unknown and unbidden, coming from a place unknown?

Who is it that comes to wrestle with humanity and with the children of Abraham?

Who is it who appears quite weak in human flesh, and who is in fact defeated in the flesh, and yet is the one with the power to bless?

Who is it that can, with one touch of the hand, move muscle and bone and nerve within the human body?

Who is it that changes our names, and by so doing, gives a new birth and a new life and a new hope and a new identity?

Who is it that leaves Israel, after a long night of struggle, both blessed and lame at the same time? Blessed by faith through the request for a blessing, and lame because of the refusal to let go and to leave the struggle!

Who is it that causes us to say with amazement, after meeting him: “I have seen God face to face, and my life is saved?”

Do you know who it is? I hope you do. Who else could this be but the Incarnate One, the Messiah, the One who comes among us bearing the fullness of divinity in human flesh?!       

One of our hymns, Number 491 in our Hymnal, written to celebrate the Incarnation, highlights the mysterious and hidden nature of his coming into the world:

WHERE is this stupendous stranger, Prophets, shepherds, kings advise.
Lead me to my Master's manger, Show me where my Saviour lies.
O Most Mighty! O MOST HOLY! Far beyond the seraph's thought,
Art thou then so mean and lowly As unheeded prophets taught?
O the magnitude of meekness! Worth from worth immortal sprung;
O the strength of infant weakness, If eternal is so young!

There is another question, of course, lurking in this story. Why does this holy stranger come? The ancient text in Genesis gives no explanation. This too has caused much pondering over the centuries.

But we know where to find the answer, don’t we? In the Gospels, of course.

And what did we read there just a few minutes ago? “When Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them.”

It is compassion that compels the Lord to come and wrestle with us in all of our problems and difficulties and challenges.

And I think that it may be this same compassion that compelled the Messiah to come and wrestle with Jacob here in the dark of night, when he was alone and most vulnerable and afraid.

Up until this time, Jacob has been a schemer. The text in Genesis never paints Jacob in a negative light, but it puts him on display with all of his flaws in plain view. He manipulates his brother into giving away his birthright. He tricks his blind, old father – while nearly on his deathbed, no less! – into giving him the patriarchal blessing that was intended for Esau. While working for his uncle Laban, Jacob tricked him by making sure that his own herds had all of the strong animals, while Laban received the week and feeble ones.

This is how Jacob was … that is, until this night when he wrestled ‘til dawn and saw the face of God.  

As dawn was breaking, Jacob was given a new name and he was blessed, and he changed. He wrestled with a strange man in whose face he saw God and this meeting changed the direction of his life.

From this wrestling match on, Jacob is different. He walks away with a limp after this wrestling match. His walk is forever changed. In Hebrew, to walk is the word “halakah” and it is used to describe how one carries out the commands of God.

Jacob now walks through life a changed man – a new man with a new walk and a new name.

Don’t be afraid to wrestle with Christ in the midst of your fear and anxiety! In his compassion, he has come to be in the struggle with us, and to bless us, and to send us on our way changed forever by that encounter. Thanks be to God. Amen.