Just Do It!

 

While it’s easy to dismiss the disciples’ request (Luke 17: 5-10) for more faith as shallow or self-serving, don’t we sometimes feel as the disciples did? At first glance, it seems like the Jesus’ followers are not getting the message. They think faith is something they can measure and in typically human fashion, want more of it. But can you blame them? Just earlier in Luke Jesus had not only warned them about guarding against making others stumble, and said that they must forgive those who wrong them … again and again and again. Who in the world can live up to Jesus’ expectations we ask. Is it any wonder that they think they need more faith?

And what about us. Don’t we sometimes feel overwhelmed by what it is we think it means to be a “good Christian” Don’t we indulge in self-doubt, not quite sure if we really have what it takes to follow Jesus. It’s only human to think that being a disciple is beyond us and out of reach. Yes, it’s only human. But isn’t that the whole point? We are only human and God loves us for our humanity, reminding us that faith rarely is heroic. Faith, as Jesus describes it, is just living our lives in the Spirit of love as best we can and tending to our roles and responsibilities, not because of any promised reward but simply because they just need doing.

When we feel daunted by discipleship, we need to be reminded that living our lives in faith can be pretty ordinary. It’s what Theresa of Avilla calls the “pots and pans of life.”  I think that’s what Jesus means when he says that faith is like a mustard seed; it grows and develops the power to uproot and move a mulberry tree – and that it’s not about quantity when all God wants is for us to just be. Even the simplest things done in faith can have a huge impact.

Yet, there are a many people who may feel absolutely nothing like the disciples did. It’s not that they’re overwhelmed by the tasks of Christian discipleship, it’s more that they don’t even think about it. For them, going to church and perhaps generally being a good person is pretty much all there is to being a Christian. It would never occur to them that being a good friend, or working at a job to keep food on the table or any of the other ordinary stuff of life we do every day has anything to do with the Christian faith. It just doesn’t occur to them.

 Faith, says David Lose in Working Preacher, isn’t just an idea, it’s like a muscle that must be exercised in order for it to grow and develop. Faith is heading out the door each day looking for opportunities to be God’s partner and co-worker in the world. Faith is imagining that the various challenges we face along the way, whether solving a problem at work or forgiving someone who has wronged us are actually opportunities that invite us to grow as disciples and witness to God’s presence and goodness in the world. 

And so Jesus tells his us that we have all the God-given opportunities to do whatever it is that needs to be done. It’s all the ordinary stuff we do all the time and, taken together and blessed by God, it’s pretty extraordinary!

This is everyday faith, the ordinary, extraordinary faith that we’re invited to practice day in and day out. It’s not heroic, but it is essential. And so maybe, after hearing all these things about faith, all we really need is to reminded, à la Nike, to Just Do It!

Do You Not See Me or Don't You Care?

 

The story of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16:19-31 is in keeping with many of our recent discussions and typical of Luke’s Gospels in which we encounter a number of assumptions and reversals. The first reversal is that the beggar is given a name and the rich man is not.

When we encounter the poor or homeless we are moved to pity and a desire to help. Yet, too often this desire or inclination stops with the intention. It’s not that we don’t care; we really do, but something happens to cause us to “look the other way,” just long enough for us to put the “urge” out of our minds and for us to forget it. Let’s face it, getting physically involved with those who are “different” from us can make us a little uncomfortable. Perhaps the operative word here is “different.”

So it is with the rich man in this parable. Both characters die and Lazarus is with Abraham in paradise and the rich man is in hell. While the story does not have a judgment scene, we assume that the rich man is not condemned because of his wealth but because he was “indifferent” to the plight of Lazarus. He did nothing to relieve his suffering in this life. Lazarus was not in the rich man’s line of sight because he was different …and the rich man was indifferent.

Yet doesn’t the rich man reveal a certain compassion and “piety” when he begs Abraham to send Lazarus to “warn” his brothers? Doesn’t this “better late than never piety” count for anything? No, it really doesn’t…the road to hell is paved with the best intentions. Jesus is telling us that piety and talk are cheap grace; it’s what we do with our wealth, i.e., our time, our abilities and our resources that count. While the rich man could have helped Lazarus before, he did not, and Lazarus cannot do anything to help the rich man now.

This Gospel stresses the urgency for us to act in this lifetime and suggests that the righteous and the “wicked” may see each other after death…but if they are attentive to the presence of the Kingdom of God, they may see both each other while on this earth.

Crime and Punishment

I think Alfred Hitchcock must have liked Luke. Likewise, I’m sure Luke would have been a big fan of Hitchcock’s films, many of which had twisted endings in which crime and punishment were somehow turned upside down and left us wondering what just happened. And so it is with Luke 16:1-13. We’re convinced that the dishonest manager is finished, but is he? 

Most of us have jobs that conform to specific job descriptions that are beholden to specific performance standards to which we are accountable. If our performance exceeds expectations, we are rewarded; likewise, if our performance falls short of expectations, we can be subject to remediation, probation and dismissal. Now the “dishonest manager,” as Jesus has already named him, is an “employee at will” and fired without so much as an opportunity to speak, much less redeem himself. The rich man was completely in his right to fire him for squandering his property.

So, here’s Luke’s surprise ending: instead of being punished and used as a model for bad behavior, the manager is given credit for being shrewd because he feathered his own nest by ingratiating himself to his employer’s debtors by discounting what is owed without any authorization. Instead of being thrown in jail, he was acknowledged for using his resources to provide for his future as he was forced to leave his job. I don’t think we would regard the manager as a model citizen but he was able to secure his future by establishing new friendships of those who were at one time in his debt. The dishonest manager was not respectable because he defied the law. Couldn’t the same be said for Jesus? He broke all the laws and was executed. 

Jesus refused to yield to the love of power and lived the power of love by defying the hypocrisy of those who sit in judgment. He reached out with compassion to the “crooks” and “sinners” in us all, who might otherwise never feel worthy of meeting the expectations of a “harsh judge.”  

Are there those we dismiss or overlook as though they have no value? How about those whose lifestyle is different from ours…do we dismiss them as having nothing worth contributing? Are they too young, too old, and too impaired to add anything to our lives and to our Church? Looking for the good in people is impossible if we treat them as having no redemptive value.  

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” (Mother Theresa)

 

Lost and Found

 

We all know what it’s like to lose something or someone. Perhaps we can remember a time when we felt lost. We all know those associated feelings that border on fear, if not terror. Reading Luke 15:1-32 helps us to remember how we felt when we experienced loss and the joy we felt when we were “reunited” or “found.”

One of my most memorable experiences with loss goes back to my early childhood and is indelibly ingrained in my memory. I was not more than five and we were at a crowded beach in Coney Island. I suppose I got a little bored sitting on the blanket alone with my mother and sleeping baby sister and remember pestering my mother about wanting to get some water for my pail to bring back to the blanket where we were sitting and make some mud pies. Mom resisted my going to the shore alone and did not want to leave my sister sleeping and unattended. I finally convinced her that I would not get lost and would be always aware of where she was. She yielded and so I made my way with my metal pail and shovel in tow, carefully drawing a “tether” line in the sand with my foot. I played at the surfside for a bit, filled my pail and turned to make my way back to the blanket. Of course, the line was obliterated and I immediately panicked because I couldn’t find the line in the sand leading back, and above all could not see my mother. I remember being overcome with fear and began to cry. A woman standing nearby came to my aid, and assured me that we would find my mother, who within seconds, I’m sure appeared. Although it must have seemed like an eternity to a child. I can still remember what I felt when my mother immediately gathered me up in her arms and held me close, assuring me that I was not lost and that I was always in her sight. I suppose the reason I can still remember this event so vividly is because of the “palpable” effect it had and continues to have even as I write today.  

I relate this childhood experience with the stories Jesus uses in our gospel to describe what it means to lose and to find and to be lost and be found. I wonder what is the more memorable of the two emotions, the fear of being lost or the joy of being found. In both instances Luke depicts the joy in finding what was lost and being found. There was no recrimination just joy.

Sometimes when you lose something, it’s a good strategy to retrace your steps and find the spot where you lost it. Revisit the stores where you might have left your credit card; the sink where you took off your wedding band and put in on the soap dish. Retrace your steps.

Where did I mislay my time with God in favor of a crammed social or business calendar? Where did we temporarily misplace our compassion for the poor in favor of self-serving programs? And where did we leave our joy in proclaiming God’s Word

Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.