Who Touched Me

Who has not been touched by the events of this past week? Last Wednesday evening, June 17, 2012, we ended our Scripture discussion group as we usually do, with a prayer, asking the Lord to help make the words we read and discussed come alive in us as we “returned” to our lives and our routines. A gunman opened fire on a similar group of people as they ended their sessions in a church in South Carolina. Along with many, I watched the evening news just before bedtime, and was shaken. I wondered how many groups were meeting to discuss the Bible on that Wednesday night and wondered how many of the millions of people in the countless number of sessions that just ended, or was still ongoing in different zones throughout the country, related as I did. How could this be? How could this possibly occur where two or more were gathered in his house and in his name? 

I wished that we were still together, meeting back in our church classroom, to hold and comfort each other and try to find God in this tragedy. Surely someone could have found meaning in all this. And while I know we’ve discussed on numerous occasions man’s free will and God’s covenant with man that permits us to exercise that will, somehow that was not enough for me at the time. My intellect grasped the words; my heart did not. Sleep, when it finally came was interrupted by strange dreams that, I knew had to be somehow connected. But how could I possibly complain about my discomfort at a time when I was not personally affected…or was I?

It took fewer than two days for the answer to come in the form of one of the most profound “sermons” that reached more people at one time than anyone could ever have imagined. There in Charlottesville, South Carolina, God revealed his love through the distraught voices of the families and friends as they forgave the killer and prayed for healing. Where did this compassion come from? No words by head of state or Church could possibly be as spiritually articulate as these “ordinary” people. In them and through them was God. And I knew at once that His love could not exist in the presence of hate. Yes, God spoke to me and to millions of astounded people throughout the world. 

In Mark 5:21-43 we are reminded that only in admitting our vulnerability are we able to receive help, and only by owning those moments of desperation are we able to discover the courage to be and act as Jesus.. And as the world and our culture crumble around us, we're invited to enter a new world of acceptance and inter-dependence. And we can start to describe that world, even call it the kingdom of God.

What are you afraid of?

 

What are you afraid of? Lord you have to be kidding might have been our response. These men are skilled fishermen caught in the storm of their lives; their boat is about to capsize and despite all their experience, they are unable to take control and fear for their lives. And Jesus who has done marvelous, mystical things on behalf of others is sleeping.

In our Gospel, (Mark 4:35-41), it’s hard to imagine that Jesus’ response and questions to the apostles were not rhetorical: Quiet! Be still!” Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?

We know that parables were used by Jesus to get his listeners and us to think, expand our frame of reference and perhaps shake us up a bit. This story while not necessarily a parable, fits the bill. It does shake us up a bit. How would we have behaved as characters in this story? How would we have responded to Jesus’ question? What would it be like to trust our ability to have faith in the midst of overwhelming, and in the apostles’ case, incapacitating fear?

Have you ever gotten to a point in your life where you were powerless to control and take charge of a serious life-impacting situation? I can recall a number of times when I was confronted with having to make decisions that I knew would alter my and my family’s lives forever. These were not easy and options were very limited. In all cases, fear of the unknown resulted in feelings of helplessness, bordering on paralysis…there was no place to hide…no one to whom I could turn.

Fear or suffering gets us to a place in which our nerves are raw and exposed and that place between us and the bottom is very thin. This thin place seems to minimize the semi-permeable membrane that serves as a barrier between us and God. If we are open and receptive, in time we will hear or feel his prompting and finally be able to overcome our immobility and we begin to move. Sometimes it takes minutes, days, weeks…or even years.

Jesus’ lesson for his apostles in the midst of the storm is to trust in God. The storm will pass and we will “somehow” manage to make it through, different from the way in which we “entered,” transformed, with insight and a greater inner experience of God in us than we ever had before.

Albert Nolan writes that “God is closer to me than I am to myself. God is one with me and with you…If God is closer to me than I am to myself and we are in some profound sense one, then I have nothing to fear. I will be cared for at all times and in all circumstances. Nothing can really harm me and whatever happens will be for the best. I am loved beyond measure because I am one with the whole mystery of life.” ( Jesus Today, A Spirituality of Radical Freedom. p 143)

It's A Quiet Thing

Gardening is all about hope; we sow in the fall and plant in the spring and wait. Somehow, we know that eventually the earth will keep its promise despite harsh winters and cold, late springs. It’s all about patience in the knowledge that if we wait and are vigilant spring will come. Perhaps this exceptionally late spring on the heels of a long and bitter winter remind us that gardening is not for impatient people. No, impatient people want things to happen now, on their time schedule and are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. The current moment is empty for them. Bur patient people dare to stay where they are. Patient gardeners, like the sower in our parable do not go away; they remain present and prepare for what they know is inevitable, spring and new growth and the fruits of their labor.





The passage in (Mark 4:26-34) reminds us that the Kingdom of God occurs without any help or involvement from us. We, except for our presence, have nothing to do with it. The parable implies the hidden and smallness of the quiet beginnings of the kingdom and also underscores the lack of involvement on the part of the sower. He cannot or does not make his garden happen by force or will. The sower doesn't even water or weed his planting! He just sows and then sleeps and rises night and day and patiently waits. The earth takes care of it all as the mustard yields its bounty and sends out its large hearty branches as it and the kingdom grow organically. Inevitably, God's hidden, mysterious work in the world and in us will be fruitful.

Being patient gardeners and living patiently go hand-in-hand; however, living patiently is not the same as passive living; we trust that somehow “things” will all fall into place. This enables us to live actively in the present and wait there like the sower until the earth is ready. Yet waiting involves actively preparing just as an expectant mother prepares for her baby. She is aware and attentive to the baby's presence as the child is nurtured and quietly grows in her womb without any help from her. Likewise the gardener waits knowing that despite the absence of any outward signs, the earth is busily going about preparing its bounty unnoticed. Paradoxically, this active waiting is actually a way of controlling the future. The mother and gardener just know.

Giving up control over our future and letting God define our life, according to God’s love and not according to our fears or wishes, are not easy and run counter to our take charge culture of success. The spiritual life in which we wait actively present in the moment, trusting that new things will happen to us…new things that are far beyond our own imagination, fantasy or prediction, is a very radical approach toward life in a world preoccupied with control. And so it is with the kingdom of God; we let it unfold, and know that we are an integral part of its growth and transformation in the here and now and into the future.

Do This in Memory of Me

How often have we said the Creed and breezed through the line “I believe in the Communion of Saints” without giving it much thought? Sure it’s a phrase that we have heard and even repeated throughout our lives without really thinking about it as more than just a line in a prayer.

The early Christians referred to all members of the community as “saints,” not necessarily because they achieved moral excellence, but because they were made “holy” by belonging to a “group” whose lives were connected in serving God. In this sense community and communion are synonymous with church which goes beyond a mere place of worship. 

The Communion of Saints like the vine and the branches, connects all people in present time with those who came before, and those yet to be... it’s eternal. Love is eternal. God is eternal. God is love. We share love with one another. We share God with one another. 
Yet, when we think of Communion it’s only natural for us to think of the Eucharist, (Mark 14:12-16, 22-26) the sharing of the Lord’s Supper with one another. Here’s where the line in the Creed, "I believe in the Communion of Saints" comes in: we share God’s love with one another when we receive and give the Eucharist to each other; likewise when we share love with one another, we metaphorically are celebrating the Eucharist and we do this in memory of Him.
In this dynamic act of sharing the presence of the Trinity becomes clear to us: Love is in us and shared through us for Him, by the power of the Holy Spirit, in Jesus name, Amen. 

It is more than just the line in a prayer, isn’t it?

The Great Commission

Let’s face it when many of us hear the "Great Commission" in (Matthew 28:16-20), we may not necessarily feel inspired or encouraged but instead just a little guilty. Why? Because day in and day out we somehow do not perceive ourselves as being called and sent to bear witness to our faith and, even more, do not feel equipped to do so. So when we hear Jesus' very clear instructions we are reminded of one more thing we should, but regularly do not, do – which as we know, is a sure recipe for guilt.

As adults, much of our identity is related to our areas of competence -- at work, at home, in volunteer activities or hobbies. When we find ourselves in situations where we do not feel competent, our anxiety shoots through the roof. (This, psychologists tell us, is why adults have a hard time learning a new language or musical instrument -- it's not that our brains are too old or hardwired to learn something new; it's that we don’t like feeling incompetent and so quit before making much progress.)

Now, think about how often we have been invited to make connections between our faith and our daily lives; to share that faith with others, or invite others to come to church. Perhaps it’s because we’ve rarely been asked, let alone shown how to do these kinds of things even in the relatively safe confines of church let alone in more threatening situations outside of church. It all means that we don't feel competent to fulfill anything remotely resembling Jesus' Commission.

These few short verses in today’s Gospel summarize our “Great Commission” and are such an important text in the context of Matthew's gospel that there is a danger that its use on Trinity Sunday will lead to too much focus on its links with the Trinity and dilute those pivotal themes around which are faith is centered: It clearly proclaims the supreme authority of Jesus, as being one with the Father and having no earthly equal; it reminds us that the purpose of the Church is to develop followers, baptize, teach, obey and remember that God through the life of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit, is with us until the end of time.

Yet let's admit it, most of us feel a little guilty when we hear Jesus' instructions. More than that, most of us don't have the foggiest idea of what it would look like in everyday life to implement his instructions. So after acknowledging where we are, how can we go about gaining a sense of competence in these matters and thereby grow in our confidence to share our faith?

Perhaps it starts with moving to a more participatory style of Christian formation in which we reach out to one another, inviting our hearers to do more than just hear but to respond to the word proclaimed in our services and revealed in our daily lives. And maybe, over time we will be inspired to share these revelations and proclaim the Word with our own “gift of tongues,” and in and by our actions. How good are we at doing what we are told? How good are we at not allowing arrogance, negative patterns from the past, and doubts to hold us back from making disciples for Jesus Christ? We can't afford to wait until we are perfect and conditions are optimal to become and make disciples. Some people who call themselves Christians can't bring themselves to share their faith. They remain forever trapped on the mountain depicted in the scene from Matthew, mired in their doubts and excuses.

Come Holy Sprirt...Enkindle in Us the Fire of His Love

When you're awake, the things you think
Come from the dream you dream
Thought has wings, and lots of things
Are seldom what they seem

Sometimes you think you've lived before
All that you live to day
Things you do come back to you
As though they knew the way (Lorenz Hart)

 

Pentecost was God’s coming to strengthen the fidelity of a community to the memory of Jesus…The memory of Jesus is now preserved in the Spirit and through a community’s faith, with all the attendant mysteries of bread and wine, revelation and tradition. (John 15:26-27;16:12-15)

David Steindl-Rast writes in Deeper than Words that “The Holy Spirit is the awe-inspiring power of life and love; loving energy within us is a reality with which every human being is familiar. We differ only by the degree to which we open ourselves to this power. if we patiently cultivate courage and openness, we will become more and more aware of the Spirit which allows us to know God.

In our Creed when we proclaim our belief in the Holy Spirit, we acknowledge God as the ‘Father,’ the ultimate mystery from whom we come and to whom we are on our way; the ‘Son,’ in whom we find our true Self; the ‘Spirit,’ the divine aliveness within our innermost life, Here we touch upon the very core of faith.”

We are charged with remembering all that Jesus lived while he was with us. The Spirit is the ultimate power of the Gospel through which the Word becomes flesh in us and are no longer merely words…we become those words and they define who and what we are, and we remember, we remember not as if it were yesterday but as today because it is today; we live the memory now and again and again.

“When we remember, we leave the present for the past. To say it better, we bring the past into the present and give it life alongside the tangible realities we are compelled to consider. Not physical presence but love leads us to live with this remembered person even in his/her absence. When love is strong, the memory of this may be more dearer and more real than the reality of those who are present. Our memory of another confers the present upon him, gives him further life in our life, and keeps a moment of the past from drifting away or fading into death.

We are fed and nourished by communion of life in which lives intersect in memory and merge into common experience. No lover forgets. No beloved is forgotten. The memory of love is life; the memory of another becomes ourselves. So when the communion of believers remembers Jesus, when the bride is alive with the thought of her Spouse, Christ is present. Jesus is brought into the present with his grace by the force of memory in the power of the Spirit…The gift of the Spirit is fidelity to the memory of life’s mystery and confidence in the mystery of its future.” (Anthony Padovano, Dawn without Darkness)

His Lord’s Prayer

 Jesus has been preparing us for his imminent departure. In his farewell discourse (John 14-16) he asks us to love one another as he has loved us. He characterizes our interconnectedness through the vine and branches allegory: through him with him and in him. In (John 17:11-19) Jesus offers up a beautiful prayer of supplication to the Father that may well be called the other Lord’s Prayer:

Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed saying
“Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me,
so that they may be one just as we are one.
When I was with them I protected them in your name that you gave me,
and I guarded them, and none of them was lost
except the son of destruction,
in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled.
But now I am coming to you.
I speak this in the world
so that they may share my joy completely.
I gave them your word, and the world hated them,
because they do not belong to the world
any more than I belong to the world.
I do not ask that you take them out of the world
but that you keep them from the evil one.
They do not belong to the world
any more than I belong to the world.
Consecrate them in the truth. Your word is truth.
As you sent me into the world,
so I sent them into the world.
And I consecrate myself for them,
so that they also may be consecrated in truth.”

Jesus knows that the world in which we live can be a harsh, difficult place and alien to God’s Spirit. However, he knows that while we are united with the Father and are of his world, we must live in our world… they do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world.

So Jesus doesn't pray that it will be easy, but rather that God will support us in our challenges and that we will be one in fellowship with each other and with Jesus and the Father through the Spirit.

But Jesus doesn’t ask only on behalf of his disciples there and then; he asks on behalf of future generations of followers, us….I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one

When we think of the Lord's Prayer, we of course think of the prayer Jesus taught his disciples, and that we say each day of our lives. But this reading gives us another Lord's Prayer, the prayer our Lord prayed -- and is still praying -- for us: that we might find the strength we need and be one.

Albert Nolan writes that “God is closer to me than I am to myself. If we are in some profound sense one, then I have nothing to fear. I will be cared for at all times. Nothing can really harm me and whatever happens will be for the best. I am loved beyond measure because I am one with the whole mystery of life.” (Albert Nolan, Jesus Today)