Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Rock My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham

Proper 21, Year C, 2016
                                                           Rev. Adam T. Trambley                                  
Sept 25, 2016, St.John’s Sharon

Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
O, Rock my soul

This morning’s gospel reading over the years has spoken to people who could identify with Lazarus.  People who were poor, ignored, sick, hurting.  People who longed for the crumbs that fell from the tables of the wealthy.  People who had nothing but the hope that someday, somewhere, things would be different and they would be the ones being comforted by Father Abraham, while the powers that be were somewhere on the other side of an unbridgeable chasm, unable to torment them any longer. 

Really, if your vision of a good eternity is being held peacefully by an old Jewish guy, things are probably not going in your favor on earth.  But being cared for like a little child, sitting on grandpa’s knee in a rocking chair while he tells you that everything is finally all right – that is the stuff of dreams for way too many of God’s children.  O Abraham, rock my soul.

Of course, when Jesus was telling this parable, he wasn’t speaking to poor people.  He was speaking to wealthier people.  But the funny thing is that they didn’t write songs about it, at least none that I know.  I don’t know what they’d be:

I’m so hot and my tongue is parched down here…

Last week, we heard Jesus say, “You can’t serve God and wealth.”  The Pharisees made fun of him for it.  Many of the religious leaders of that day, as well as of our day, had taken passages of the Old Testament and misapplied them.  When God said he would take care of people who obeyed him, they took it to mean that if they had money, then God was obviously pleased with them.  God meant that when you don’t have enough, keep doing what is right and trusting God and you’ll be OK because God will work it out somehow. But instead of allowing these passages to provide hope for people in need, the wealthy leaders decided that they meant that people without money had done something wrong, that God wasn’t helping them, and that it wasn’t their responsibility to help them either.  We hear that kind of prosperity gospel message in some circles today, and it is not right. 

So Jesus lays out this rather stark contrast between the rich man, who is so fully scorned in the parable that he isn’t even named, and Lazarus, an exceedingly poor man.  The rich man is a pretty extreme exaggerated character.  Not only is he rich with purple clothes and a daily feast, but he is also totally uncaring.  He could give Lazarus just the crumbs from his table, but he doesn’t.  He could recognize Lazarus as a human being in the afterlife, but he still expects him to be the slave – I mean, dip the tip of his finger in water to cool my tongue – really.  And, he doesn’t seem to be at all sorry for any of it.  All he is sorry for is that he is in agony.  But he does care enough that he doesn’t want his brothers joining him in the fires of Hades.  He doesn’t care about Lazarus, but he asks Abraham to send someone to warn his brothers.

Here is the place that the parable drips with irony, and where you see Jesus at some of his snarkiest.  “Your brothers should listen to Moses and the prophets,” Abraham says.  “Ah,” the rich man replies, “no.  They won’t listen to them.  But if someone were to come back from the dead, they would surely listen.”  “No.  If they didn’t listen to Moses or the prophets, they aren’t listening to someone even if they come back from the dead.”  And guess, what.  They didn’t listen, even when somebody came back from the dead.

But we can.  We can listen to Moses and the Prophets.  We can also listen to the one who came back from the dead.  The message isn’t complicated.  Love people.  Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, care for the sick, and visit those in prison.  Don’t leave someone at your gate with nothing but a few stray dogs for comfort.  Anyone who can’t respect the dignity of every human being enough to be generous in meeting people’s basic needs ought to be on the other side of the Hades chasm. It wouldn’t be much of a heaven for everybody else to have to spend eternity with them.

Beyond these basics aspects of generosity, Paul provides a couple of other instructions about wealth in this morning’s reading from his letter to Timothy.  He has a set of instructions for those who are rich, and many of us this morning could be described with wealth like that of the rich man in Jesus’ parable.  Most of us have beautiful clothing of a variety of fancy colors, and most of us are able to eat as much as we want whenever we want, which is just like the rich man putting on his purple and feasting sumptuously every day.  For us, the instructions are pretty clear.  Don’t be haughty or think that somehow you are better than people who have less.  Then Paul writes not to put our trust in riches.  Wealth is uncertain.  Only God is truly trustworthy, so rely solely on God.  Seek first the Kingdom of God and let him provide for you instead of working to maximize income and trust in it.  Then Paul’s final advice to the rich is to be generous and use the wealth for good works.  Instead of seeing how we can use our money to do what we want or advance our agenda, we should see how we can do good with our resources and advance God’s agenda.  Instead of increasing the number in our bank account, we should be focused on increasing the list of good deeds written after our name in the heavenly ledgers.  Money doesn’t necessitate a spot next to the rich man in the parable, but, as Jesus says in another place, “to those whom more is given, more will be required.”  Those who can afford to do more good need to do it.

St. Paul also provides advice to everyone about money, whether we see ourselves as rich or poor or somewhere in-between.  Basically, he says not to run after money, but to be content with what we have.  If we have the basic necessities of life, then we should just focus on godliness.  If we don’t have those basic necessities, then certainly we should ask for them, and God wants them for us.  But once we have food to eat, clothing to wear, and a roof over our heads, then we need to stop being concerned with how much more we can get.  When people chase wealth instead of godliness, all sorts of bad things can happen.  Paul writes that “the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.”  Instead of being tempted by envy and greed, we can focus on doing what God wants for us and allowing him to provide what we need, because he will.  We may not be keeping up with the Jones, but our lives will be richer in ways that really matter, and the creator of everything worth having in the universe can also supply anything he wants us to have.

Instead of pursuing wealth, Paul tells Timothy to pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness.  Keep the commandments and honor God.  If we truly want to serve God instead of wealth, then we keep our minds on the virtues that God wants us to acquire.  Living into such virtues like generosity and love will allow us to become the people whom God made us to be, and we will use our wealth and resources in the right way as a natural by-product of the righteous, godly, loving choices that will become our habit.  Whether rich by the world’s standards or not, we will become rich in everything that matters in the kingdom of God. 

Perhaps even more importantly, if we follow Paul’s instructions about wealth, we will be people whom the Lazaruses of this world will know and love and want to spend eternity with.  Their situation will be better in this life because of our love and generosity, and we will joyfully join them with Abraham, Paul, and all the saints in the courts of heaven before God’s throne.  Rock my soul!    
   
   

  

Monday, September 5, 2016

Take Lord, Receive

Proper 18 C RCL, September 4, 2016
Rev Adam Trambley

The music used as part of this sermon was written by John Foley, SJ, and can be heard on YouTube at the link below.  During the service, we were graced to have it performed by Ron Gracilla and Greg Hansley:



 (Verse 1) Take, Lord, receive all my liberty, 
My memory, understanding, my entire will. 
Give me only Your love and Your grace, that's enough for me.
Your love and Your grace, are enough for me.

Today’s Gospel reading contains pretty difficult words of Jesus that, in effect, ask us to offer him our entire lives.  For me, this song by John Foley is one way that we can pray the desires that Jesus wants from us.  It is our intentions that are most valuable to God here, particularly as we say, “Take, Lord, receive everything.”  God doesn’t actually need our stuff or our relationships or anything else from us.  He pretty much has everything he wants or needs – that one of the benefits of being Creator of the Universe.  But our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving – our desire to give everything back to God – is asked for because it is fundamentally good for us. 

Getting to that kind of willingness to surrender everything to God is not so easy.  So before we go to the Gospel, we want to look at the first reading from Jeremiah and Psalm 139.  These readings say important things about who we are, how we were made, and why our offering back to God is so meet and right, and even good and joyful, if approached in the right way.

In our first reading, God tells Jeremiah to go down to the potter’s house.  Apparently, the closest potter wasn’t very good, because what Jeremiah sees is the clay getting all messed up.  Instead of the lovely dishes or roof tiles or whatever the potter was making, the clay ended up lopsided -- maybe it turned out like my school art projects where one side of the pot was really thick and could barely dry while the other side was so thin it almost immediately cracked.  Jeremiah’s potter had to take his clay and reshape it.  The clay wasn’t working quite right for one item, so he decided to make something else out of it.

God’s message to Jeremiah for God’s people is that he is the potter and we are his clay.  Since he made us (and Genesis says God formed us out of the dust of the earth and breathed life into us), then he gets to shape us as he believes is best.  By offering our entire selves and our relationships and our possessions to God, he can take them and reform them in the most straightforward ways to be used for new purposes.  Being reshaped for God’s renewed plan for us is a good thing.  If we refuse to surrender, however, and try to hang on, we can think about what it is like to try to reform hardened pieces of clay.  The new purpose might be there, but instead of being soft and malleable, there are brittle areas that weaken the vessel in the long run.

So what specifically am I talking about?  Here are a couple examples.  First, we are at the time of year when young people are going back to school, and some are even going away to school.  As our children, or our grandchildren, grow up, we can either offer them to God or try to hold on to the way things have been.  By offering our children, and our relationships with them, to God, we allow God to reform our children’s lives in ways that let them be used for new and deeper purposes.  They can meet new people, minister to people in more mature ways, and share God’s love in places we can’t go. Even our relationships with our children can develop in ways that God will use for our benefit and their benefit and for the world’s benefit.  But if we refuse to take the risk of offering them back to God, the new vessel God is turning them into can be weakened because we are trying to keep a part of their life in a certain shape because we are more comfortable with it.  Our spiritual work is to train our desires to not want what makes us comfortable in our relationships, however, but to want those we love to be re-molded in whatever way the divine potter knows to be best. 

Or maybe we have an image in our mind of what our life is supposed to be; maybe our parents instilled it in us.  A certain type of house, cars, kids, grandkids, whatever.  And maybe we’ve even achieved most of that, but now it’s time for something else.  Maybe a smaller apartment in a living situation where there are other people around – people we will have an opportunity to minister to in some way.  Or maybe we are supposed to go to a simpler car or otherwise downsize so we have more money to give away.  Or maybe we are supposed to use the space we have to take in aging family members or foster children or volunteers for area causes.  Maybe God is just ready to take the clay of our lives and do something new with it.  But unless we are willing to say, “Take, Lord, receive,” we aren’t cooperating, and may even be hindering God’s purpose for us.

(Verse 2) Take, Lord, receive all I have and possess. 
You have given all to me, now I return it. 
Give me only Your love and Your grace, that's enough for me.
Your love and Your grace, are enough for me.

While Jeremiah gives us the metaphor of God as our potter, Psalm 139 depicts ways in which God has known us even in our mother’s womb and paid attention to the smallest details about us.  We are marvelously and wondrously made by him and he is aware of every word we speak, of every step we take, and even every thought we have.  He has plans for us -- plans beyond anything we can even begin to understand.  “How deep I find your thoughts, O God! How great is the sum of them! ...to count them all, my life span would need to be like yours!” the psalmist writes.

So if God has made us with such love, and if really are the miracles that Psalm 139 says we are, we can trust the ongoing work he is going to do with us. We can believe that what God will do for us and through us tomorrow will be even better than what it has been today.  Even if part of God’s will is more difficult for us so that others can benefit, we accept and even rejoice in that suffering to further God’s plan of salvation.  God loves each and every one of us too much to waste the amazing gifts that we are, so if we are willing to cooperate with God, we will never be brushed aside or forgotten.  But we may be challenged.  We may be transformed.  We may die in some ways to receive new life in others.

This surrender to God is what Jesus is talking about in the Gospel.  When he talks about hating family members, he doesn’t want mean some kind of visceral fury when we see our parents or our siblings walk into a room.  He is saying that if there is a choice between what they want and what God wants, we choose what God wants.  If we have the choice between clinging to the relationship we’ve always had with them or having that relationship transformed so the kingdom can be built up in new ways, we choose to let God be a party to our relationship and focus on God together.  Taking up our cross means that we accept whatever struggles or suffering we may face in the future to get to where God wants us to be.  These choices make sense since God is our loving maker and our potter.

But the fact that we continually offer our lives and our relationships back to God does not mean that every day our life is turned upside down.  Most days it isn’t.  Most days, God is happy to use the relationships that we have in the ways that we have them.  Most days, God has us right where he wants us, and by offering our lives and relationships to him, we are allowing him to deepen the love we already share with those around us.

The same principle holds true when Jesus says, “none of you can be my disciples if you do not give up all your possessions.”  What Jesus says is true.  We can’t follow God if we tightly hold on to our stuff.  But the times we are really called to give up everything are fairly few.  I’ve had to do it a couple of times, including when we moved to Sharon and gave up our house and our savings and a variety of other possessions. We took a risk that God would take care of us, and he has.  Even at that time, however, some things moved with us – my guitar, clothes, a bunch of books, some furniture.  I could have given them up, but then God would have had to go get me new ones.  Yet everything we have has been offered to him and is his.  I hope I am always using my possessions for God’s work, even if some of that work is to keep me alive and happy so I can live into my call to be the priest here.  If I gave away my house or my car every day, God would take care of me and somehow get me where I need to be and stop me from freezing to death, but that care might come by a divine voice that says, “I gave you a house already, so use it.” 

I don’t think it is a copout to say that we can give up all our possessions without dragging a moving van of all our stuff to Goodwill.  Instead we can take three steps that demonstrate our intention and desire to give our possessions to God, and that desire to give all to God is crucial.  The first step is tithing our first fruits. We step out in faith by giving the first ten percent of our income back to God and asking God to bless the rest.  Second, we really acknowledge in our hearts that everything we have is God’s, not ours, and be willing to let go of it should the reason arise.  Then, third, we try to use all that we have for God’s glory, as if our possessions, which are now God’s possessions, were items dedicated for service at the altar.  Because in a way they have been.  All of us are God’s children and our lives are meant to be holy.  Anything that we have is meant to help us live and love, and in a very real way is devoted to God’s holy work as much as the altar candles are.

God is our potter.  He made us with love and formed us for his purpose.  We can trust the next steps in his loving purposes for us, even during times of significant change.  We can ask him to take and receive our possessions, our relationships, and our very lives, trusting in his love and grace to continue to provide us what we need.  His love and his grace are always enough for us.


(Verse 3) Take, Lord, receive, all is Yours now. 
Dispose of it, wholly according to Your will
Give me only Your love and Your grace, that's enough for me.
Your love and Your grace, are enough for me.