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 very early childhood and is indelibly ingrained in my memory. I was not more than five years old and my mother sister and I were on 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 I remember pestering my mother to let me get some water from the ocean for my pail to bring back to the blanket so I could make some mud pies. Mom resisted my going to the shore alone and did not want to leave my sister sleeping  unattended. I finally convinced her that I could not possibly 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 on the verge of tears. A woman standing nearby came to my aid, and assured me that we would find my mother. Mom appeared in seconds. Although seconds must have seemed like an eternity to me. I can still remember what I felt when my mother 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.

 

Please...not again

 

It all began with Adam, didn’t it? When he fell he introduced and asserted his free will and with it, independence. However, Adam also introduced chaos, dying, misery and death as our legacy. “No! No! No!” Writes Kruger in the character of God , “Not on our watch! We did not create you to perish, to die, to live in such appalling pain and blindness and brokenness. We created you to share in our life, to taste and feel and know and experience what we have known for all eternity.” (The Shack Revisited)

So Jesus’ frustration with Peter in denying his destiny for our sake is palpable. You could almost hear him say, Please... not again. This is why I’ve made this trip Peter. You don’t know the mind of God and you can’t put words in my mouth. Adam got it wrong in the beginning and now you are repeating his original mistake. Please don’t be an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings.  

And so Jesus came as The One through whom the very life of the triune God would enter human existence. This in turn would allow us to be raised up and share in the very life of God. We have to get it right this time.

So part of what strikes me in (Matthew 16:21-27) is how it reveals something deeply true about our human nature, and is personified in the behavior of Peter. We don’t want to hear bad news. We certainly don’t want to know that our best friend and our Savior will have to suffer and die so that we free. And can we bear to know that we too will follow him on our journey through this vale of tears as part of Adam’s legacy? We have to get it right this time.

 

...Even the dogs eat the scraps

 

Can we imagine what it feels like to have a pressing need or a significant request ignored and met with silence? Just think about it for a moment. For me, the question and my own personal memories are brought home by the plight of the Canaanite woman. (Matthew 15:21-28). This Gospel has always made me uncomfortable. In years passed whenever it rolled around as our assigned reading, I wrote around the story, not wanting to address it; not fully understanding it as it was so contrary to Jesus’ nature and earlier events in Matthew’s Gospels. Even Mark in his corresponding account of the story (Mark 7:24-35), chickened out and did not include Jesus’ somewhat callous response in Matthew: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” (I still am chickening out as I had to change the blog's title from the last sentence.)

Admittedly, even today, women’s words are too often met with silence or are interrupted or disrespected, by men and sometimes by other women. Those times in my life when I asked for information or help and received nothing but silence, were hurtful. No one immediately responds to the Canaanite woman or gives the impression that they will respond. The disciples urge Jesus to send her away because, it appears, they are annoyed by her continued shouting and her refusal to take silence for an answer. Too often we either cannot or refuse to empathize with people whose experience is different from ours. If we are not at the receiving end of oppression or injustice we find it easy to dismiss it as unwelcomed noise. If our common humanity and our relatedness does not move us, what will? The Canaanite woman’s blood ran through Jesus’ veins and for that matter, ours…but it didn’t seem to move Jesus!

So many  disenfranchised people in history like the Canaanite woman have persisted as lone minority voices among a majority of authoritative and powerful men. She persisted! She didn’t go away; she would not be dismissed. Her plea for help was met with the language of societal indifference: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

In the end, Matthew’s Jesus responds by commending the woman for her faith. (In Mark’s version, Jesus commends the woman with no mention of faith.} Matthew calls what this woman does an act of faith. Yet, Jesus does not perform an exorcism; he simply says, “Let it be done for you as you wish.” He does not say let it be done as you believed but as you will. The woman’s strong will manifested by her persistence, identified as faith, led to her daughter’s healing.

While Jesus doesn’t tell us, we are told that the woman’s daughter was healed instantly. Perhaps faith engenders persistence or maybe persistence feeds faith. Either way, persistence and faith make a powerful pair. While we can never  underestimate the power of a persistent woman and the God in whom she believes, we still wonder why Jesus hesitated and initially responded as he did? For me, the answer lies in the fact that Jesus was as fully human as he was divine. I wonder if this was a teachable moment for him and that this woman at this precise moment in time, was the vessel for this powerful education? While I feel a little better, I still have difficulty with this Gospel. You see, it’s so easy to relate to the loving, compassionate, Jesus who is “above it all,” but when I encounter Jesus who in this case, behaves as I might have, it makes me uncomfortable. Maybe that’s the lesson for us; we’re are trying; we’re still learning. We are only human.

Remember man, presume not God to scan, the proper study of mankind in man. Alexander Pope

 

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water

 

Have you ever noticed that it’s often in our most challenging times that we recognize God’s presence most clearly? I’m not saying it should be this way or that God is only present when we most need him. Rather, I think there is just something about significant challenges and trials that clarify our priorities and cut through the many distractions of everyday life that prevent us from feeling God's presence more clearly. What strikes me is how (Matthew 14:22-33)  reveals something deeply about our humanity, and the behavior of his disciples. While I know that I often overlook God’s presence when all is well, I have no problem calling out to him when things take a more difficult turn and are not going so well. Yes, I know it’s all a part of our transformative journey in which we desire to grow in our quest to be more closely united with God. But let’s face it, it’s so much easier when times are peaceful and pleasant.  

Looking back over these past months of  "confinement," compounded by some discomfort and apprehension, I realize how our faith is a little like a yo-yo or see-saw...up one day, down the other. Our initial fear of the early unknown had us hungrily praying  for God’s intervention.  When tragedy strikes in the form of personal loss, illness, the fracture of a relationship, or some mistake we’ve made, our ongoing need for God becomes painfully clear.  

Isaiah (55:1-33) reminds  us that from the beginning of our creation God desired that we flourish and thrive and while we know the journey back to Him is not easy and requires  effort on our part, do we sometimes just sit back and wait for life to happen? Or, or do we step out of our “boat” like Peter, and make it happen? Either way, we often forget how much we depend on God and when we think we have done it on our own, our egos dismiss His intervention: “it’s OK Lord, I got this one.” 

All too often we take comfort in our modest success and assume that we no longer need Him now. We forget how much God is intimately wrapped up in every aspect of our lives… and wants to be. As a reminder of God’s perennial presence Carl Jung had the following reminder carved over the entrance to his home in Zurich.  

You are My Beloved…Listen to Him

 

Do you remember when you first felt an undeniable prompt that called you to pursue a goal or an activity?  I wonder how many of us know when we have heard and responded to God's voice. While talk of "a calling" is commonly ascribed to clergy, we don’t necessarily consider that we’re called to a career, vocation or volunteering. But, why not? I raise this question because I think that “our calling” in life is in many ways related to the Transfiguration (Matthew 171-9).  The visual impact of the dazzling, blinding light and brightness enveloping Jesus is unforgettable. And yet the event forces us to focus on Peter in that it signals the beginning of Peter's transformation as well.

The scene moves very quickly. We can feel Peter’s fear and confusion as a voice from heaven literally interrupts his chatter, and virtually says, "Would you please be quiet for a minute, and just listen to him!" We can relate to Peter, as he falls to the ground in fright,  covering his ears and shielding his eyes. And in an instant,  it's over...the voice, the light, the prophets of the past...no one remains except Jesus, who reaches out to Peter, James and John, and calms their fears, and asks them to get up.

In that moment everything for Peter, I suspect, was still...and clear...and made sense. But we know it didn't last very long. On the way down the mountain Jesus once again had to remind Peter of his impending death and destiny and while Peter struggles to listen, to follow, and to be faithful, he will fail. My guess is that each time Peter “fell down,” he would look back on this day and recall those words, "Just listen to him!"

Perhaps Peter's transfiguration begins when he repeatedly fails, falls, and is lifted up again and realizes that above and beyond everything else, he is called to listen really listen to Jesus. (Are you listening; really listening?) Isn’t this the pattern that shapes the lives of every Christian? We  try our best and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. We, have moments of insight and moments of denial. We fall down in fear and are raised up again to go forth in confidence. 

We are called to listen, to discern God's will if we are to be transformed. Don’t we identify with Peter? Don’t we see ourselves in this story? This story is as much about Peter and Jesus as it is about us. We, too, have been called both to "listen to him" and to "be lifted up"?  We too, are called, but I wonder if we sometimes even recognize his voice.

“There have been quite a few times when I have felt the winds of God’s grace in the sails of my small boat. Sometimes these graces have moved me in pleasant and sunlit directions. At other times the requested acts of love were born in the darkness of struggle and suffering. There have been spring times and there have been long cold winters of struggle for survival. God has come to me at times with the purest kindness, at times with the most affirming encouragement, and at other times with bold frightening challenges. I think that all of us have to watch and pray, to be ready to say “yes” when God’s language is concrete and his request is specific-“yes” in the sunlit spring times and “yes’ in the darkness of winter nights.” (John Powell, S.J., The Christian Vision, The Truth That Sets Us Free, p147)

Wheat and Weeds

 Jesus moves on, according to Matthew (Matthew 13:23-43), from stories of God-the-Mad-Farmer who sows seed everywhere and refuses to weed the crops, to stories of choices that must be made, stories in which it is not God, but we who must choose between small seeds that can grow God-crops in His world, and the myriad of things the world in all its disarray and turbulence, wants us to choose instead.

The grain of mustard seed – the smallest of all the seeds, breaks through a weedy patch to become the largest of all the bushes and offer shelter to many birds. The tiniest amount of yeast can grow flour into bread enough to feed a town. The smallest pearl in its natural purity, stands out among fake gaudy baubles, and has far greater value than everything we own. A unexpected treasure, found in the field of our lives will require everything we have to mine, hone and protect.

Each of these parables require that we go all out to pursue. The price for the treasures of God is everything we have. Who are we to be purchasing pearls? To be selling the farm for some little thing you found in a field? To be wasting all our yeast to raise barrels of flour to make bread for strangers? Who would plant a mustard seed that results in an invasive plant of little value instead of fig trees or olive groves?

And none of these would get us any attention or plaudits for our decision; no, rather most would get us some rolled eyes, catcalls, and derisive remarks uttered. It takes courage to know and follow God’s will for us; breaking from the crowd whose numbers may provide safety and shelter, is risky. To be willing to say and do the right thing when the crowd exhorts us to follow…what we know in our heart just doesn’t feel right. Isn’t that the Spirit speaking to us…it just doesn’t feel right? It’s a quiet thing in the midst of the chaos and noise.                                                                

Jesus reminds us that what’s precious is likely to be judged as junk by most folks, and likely to require a lot from you and me. All the stories say – Make yourself available to God

 

It’s the cutting edge of making choices,
splitting what you choose from what you don’t choose.
And making your choices will set you apart
from others, even friends and family.

 This is the work of becoming your own self.
When your choices upset those around you
it may be because you’re being foolish.
But it may be because you’re making your choices
instead of letting them. It will be like this.
Abandon that owned self, and find your own self.

Listen deeply to God.
Let God alone lead you.
Make yourself available to God
as an instrument of righteousness,
and know that even as you let go of your life
you receive life.
-Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Do we really know what we want?

 

It’s easy to relate to Jesus’ reaction to the crowd in Matthew 11:25-30 as he compares his followers to of children who cannot make up their minds:  John came neither eating nor drinking, and they said, `He has a demon'; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they said, `Look, at Jesus, a glutton, a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!  In today’s vernacular, Jesus might have asked “do you really know what you want? What else will it take for me to help you understand how much God loves you?” His beautifully human feelings to which we identify helps us know that the one whose Word we follow and live by can experience these emotions that are so much a part of our lives. 

We all view the world through our own prism or lenses that are largely influenced by our experiences and the world around us. Two people can hear an identical message yet, the same two people may have a completely different interpretation. We attribute this to our human nature. Sometimes we consciously create our own reality that serve our desired expectations and “wishes” based on what we want to hear. In most cases, our perception is unconscious and consistent with our view of reality. This might be called “unintentional bias.” 

It’s when we allow the ego to “re-write” or “re-create” our own “script” for what we know to be reality, that we work at cross-purposes with God’s will. These become fanciful dreams, not based in reality. On the other hand, “hope” is based on realistic expectations that come into play as new creative possibilities. Scientific studies are rooted in premises that have reasonable potential for a desired outcome. When all parties are blinded any possible unintentional bias is removed. Studies are only possible when empiric evidence suggests a positive outcome. in other words we don't set out to design a study to prove a negative outcome. Consider our current political climate: when we don't like the outcome, we subvert the facts and create our own. Jesus loved the Centurion as much as the leper. He had no qualifiers.  

“What do you want? Jesus seems to ask the crowd. Except he knows they won’t answer. They can’t because what they want is to grow, to evolve, to improve and more. And yet, they want to be left alone, untouched and unchanged, safely ensconced in their comfort zones. Transformative change is risky as it almost always requires that we let go of those attachments that paralyze us; in many ways change may feel a little like dying. How many of us have considered our experiences during Covid19 as transformative? Do we recognize ongoing changes that are desirable and maybe not so desirable? How many of us have been challenged by the need to change, a this time during which holding on to the old way is not even an option?  

Paradoxically, we as people who follow Jesus – want to grow but do we really want to change. Why can’t it just happen without our involvement is the fanciful wish? Let it happen in the bliss of ignorance. Change, you see, brings the unknown. Change is not certain. Change implies risk and even potential loss. 

In Matthew we see the love of God manifest in Jesus’ ability to embrace our human diversity with his divinely inspired nature. Reaction to the different ministries of John and Jesus provide a model to help us understand that whatever we do can never meet the needs of everyone. We will not be able to reach those whose lenses are distorted by ego and they will forever remain deaf to us. Instead, surrendering our voice to God who through the Holy Spirit will provide the voice that will reach the different ears and different needs, we vainly believe that what we say should be sufficient for all.  

Thomas Keating tells us “that there are all kinds of ways in which God speaks to us—through our thoughts and/or anyone of our faculties. But keep in mind that God’s first language is silence. We must listen. We must be willing to listen. The Spirit speaks to our conscience through scripture and through the events of daily life. Reflection on those two sources of personal encounter and the dismantling of the emotional programming of the past prepare the psyche to listen at a more refined level of attention.”  

As John and Jesus show us, there is more than one means to the great end… God.