Don't Ask, It's a Mystery

We celebrate those events in the life of Christ in the Gospel as stories that are meant to be lived as we are inspired to live them. I’ve come to realize that if I understand something and feel that I can explain it, it’s no mystery. Yet, there’s this undeniable urge to put our ego front and center and do our best to try to explain things that defy explanation. I was reminded when I heard Adam say, I was afraid, because I was naked. To which God answered, who told you that you were naked? (Genesis 3:8-19) Too often modern believers tend to place their trust in therapy more than they do in mystery, a fact that’s revealed when our worship resorts to the jargon of ego-satisfying, self-help and pop psychology: Let’s use this hour to get our heads straight or revisit our perspective. Really? Sure, let’s use this hour because we’re too busy later, after all, we’ve got the kids, or I don’t want anything to get in the way of my Super Bowl Sunday. Let’s use this hour, and get it over with and you can send me a bill… later I will zip off a check in the mail. There, that’s done. But the mystery of worship which is God’s presence and our response to it doesn’t work this way.

Somehow, the mistrust of all that has been handed down to us, has led to a failure of the imagination, evidenced by language that’s thoroughly comfortable and unchallenging. Our prayers become a self- indulgent praise of ourselves as we purport to “confess” our weaknesses. These prayers are anything but the lifting of our hearts and minds to God. There’s no attempt to at least meet him half way and listen and stop talking.
 
And so now in this fourth week of Advent we focus on the Annunciation (Luke1:26-28), a mystery of epic proportions that defies rational explanation. It stuns us to hear some attempt to reduce the virgin birth to a mere story of an unwed pregnant teenager. Have we come to a time when anything that did not stand up to reason or that we couldn’t explain, should be characterized as primitive and infantile? Why do we think that an almighty spiritual being is confined to man’s intellect and his feeble language to communicate? Do we not see how metaphor and poetry reveal meaning, not explanation, on a deep personal level?

A few years ago we had an opportunity to travel through Eastern Europe, making our way from the Black Sea to Amsterdam. I was taken aback by the devastation in human lives caused by the failure of the “great social experiment,” that created societies whose wealth was shared but only among those at the top. So great buildings were erected for the personal aggrandizement of the elite while sacrificing the welfare of the people who were desperate for food and who desired a modicum of personal enrichment. On the other hand, I was impressed with the number of churches and cathedrals that were reopened after decades of being forced to close. While they appeared to be flourishing, they served more to support tourism than worship.

Looking at the beautiful classical paintings and art in these churches made me wonder what it was that inspired the artists to create poetic images and visual metaphors depicting the “mysteries” of Christianity. It occurred to me that their art was spoken in a language all its own and derived its source from inspiration and not the intellect, and while the cynic might deride the image of the Angel Gabriel appearing to Mary, the artist understood it completely. Art and music are languages of the soul and bypass our rational being to speak to us at a level we cannot explain or know but do we really need explanation for something we feel down deep?

When we allow God’s love to break through into our consciousness as we contemplate the Mysteries of the Annunciation and Virgin birth, do we run from it? Do we ask it to explain what it cannot? Or are we “virgin” enough to surrender to our deepest self and allow it to fill our being? We cannot ask it to explain what it cannot.

Oh Come, Oh Come, Oh come Emmanuel

 

By their nature the “Word” and “Light” and the realities they evoke lend themselves as apt symbols of the truth about Jesus and of What God is doing in Jesus in cooperation with the Spirit. The Trinitarian God is wholly part and parcel of this divine self-revelation and outreach to us.

This divine revelation is at the heart of our coming Christmas celebration. In the Christmas mystery we proclaim that Jesus is the divine revelatory presence of God among us and for us. St. John tells us that Jesus, as the Word of God, brings all things into being as the Light of God in this world. St. John further says that in Jesus and in the daily witness of those who live in his Holy Spirit, the darkness of this world is pushed back, step by step, moment by moment in a challenging exercise of religious and spiritual patience until at last, the full saving power of God dries the final tears and heals the wounds we so regularly cause each other in a world that lost its way within the life and time of Adam and Eve. (John: 6-8, 19-2)

Jesus is the Light of the world--he shows us our true selves, he previews our collective destiny, he is the on-going answer to our most selfless and generous and loving prayers.

Come, let us gather together this Christmas Day and this Christmas Season to celebrate God’s coming among us as one of us in Jesus—whose total reality is spelled out in his divinely given name: Emanuel, “God with us,.”’ ( Ronald Cioffi, December 23, 2011)

Prepare the Way of The Lord

In January of 2007, The Washington Post videotaped the reactions of commuters at a D.C. Metro (subway) stop to the music of a violinist. The overwhelming majority of the 1000+ commuters were too busy to stop. A few did, briefly, and some of them threw a couple of bills into the violin case of the street performer. No big deal, just an ordinary day on the Metro. Except it wasn't an ordinary day. The violinist wasn't just another street performer; he was Joshua Bell, one of the world's finest concert violinists, playing his multi-million dollar Stradivarius. Three days earlier he had filled Boston's Symphony Hall with people paying over $100/seat to hear him play similar pieces. The question the Post author and many others since have asked is simple: Have we been trained to recognize beauty outside the contexts we expect to encounter beauty? Or, to put it another way, can we recognize great music anywhere outside of a concert hall?

So, I wonder, are we able to only detect the presence of God when we are in Church, immersed in liturgy, hymns and spiritually uplifting music? Do we require the proper scene to create a mood so that we can feel his presence? Do we need props to help us? Sometimes I wonder if Church even gets in the way by setting up forced expectations of something that can’t be forced. After all here we are in “God’s House,” and He’s been waiting for us to call on Him all along.  No, I don’t think it works that way.

So, why did the commuters not recognize the talent of the famed concert violinist? I can understand that we might not recognize the man himself; I know that as much as I have admired the young violinist, I would not recognize him. And what about his music? Not everyone likes classical music, although most people would recognize Bell’s virtuosity and marvel at his skill. Yet, in the Metro, far from Philharmonic Hall, we do not recognize his mastery. It’s not so much that we look for God in the context of “where he’s expected,” after all why do we even think that God is ever in a contextual setting programmed for and by us? It’s just that we are not open to his presence all around us. Perhaps it helps to recall Matthew’s Gospel two weeks ago: Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?

John was sent to prepare us for Jesus, to help us recognize his presence in one another and the world around us. How many times have we read (Mark 1:1-8 ) or heard John’s words: "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals?” Do we walk past him as the commuters did Joshua Bell?  Dear Lord we pray, please help us to see God at work in and through all the "ordinary" elements of our lives. And then who knows, we might even take him to Church with us as His house becomes our house.

About That Day or Hour No One Knows

Keep Awake for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. These words have been repeated for over 2,000 years, yet somehow we still fear the end of our life on earth. Sure, we are comforted by the many parallels in nature that reveal death to be a precursor to new life, but the fear of death lingers in the shadows. We have - or likely have - lived longer than our parents and grandparents. We are better fed; we lose few babies, and modern medicine protects us from contagion and diseases that can shorten our lives... and yet, we are still afraid. Why?

Shortly after 9/11 the words “Fear Not” rang hollow and seemed a little out of place. Surely we had every reason to be afraid. After the three devastating attacks, the country held its breath wondering if there were there more to come. During the first few weeks following the attacks, the country was suspended in a state of watchful waiting. We were led to believe that it wasn’t a question of “if” but “when.” We carefully listened to those in authority speak of preparedness, but the summary statement always was, “we just don’t know.” It took a while but in time we began to live our lives with the knowledge that life must go on… but we were implored to remain vigilant and the words “If you see something, say something” became a national mantra.

It doesn’t take much to see the connection between our gospel (Mark 13:24-37) and that fateful Tuesday that I remember began with skies so blue and air so clean. What could possibly have gone wrong on such a beautiful day? How could we have been prepared for what happened? Had we ever sustained an enemy attack within our Continental borders during war time, much less peace? How do we begin to replace fear with living fully and, please God, joyfully?

We are taught that Christ's death and resurrection are the answer to our mortal fears. He relinquished his humanity as the divine Incarnation was complete so that we could share in his resurrection and in so doing, remove our reasons to fear death forever. Knowing that God loves us and that there is nothing we can do to ever lose His love is a matter of faith, not intellect. So, we live out our lives enriched by Christ’s example when we resist the impulse to live for ourselves instead of others. It means being prepared to die again and again to ourselves, and to every one of our self-serving opinions and agendas. But about that day or hour no one knows. And death will have no dominion.

Jesus Christ, Is that You again?

Do we like surprises? As I think about it, I would probably answer, “it depends.” I know I like to surprise others and must admit to having a penchant for playing practical jokes, and while I have become more sensitive to time, place and personalities targeted, I’m not completely “rehabilitated.” I’ve learned that not everyone shares my sense of humor. I, myself, don’t really like to be surprised; I’d rather be pleased or displeased with an event or outcome, knowing in advance what might be expected. Yet, there are those, who enjoy surprises and would rather not have any inkling in advance.

This brings me to this week’s Gospel, (Matthew 25: 31-46) which depicts elements of surprise for the good guys and the bad, the sheep and the goats. Both groups were surprised by what Jesus said when they asked “Lord, when did we and when didn’t we…” Why do we suppose this is? Nether group denies their behavior, and both groups registered surprise when they failed to recognize Jesus. Tell the truth, we know that when we do it for the least of our brethren, we do it for God but do we really expect to see Jesus in the face of the disenfranchised, the homeless, the imprisoned and the downtrodden? Don’t we really prefer to look for him as the royal figure depicted in the words of Mathew as he gathers all the angels with him, and sits on the throne of his glory with all the nations assembled before him? 

This is a deliberate set up in Matthew as we are expected to be surprised and wonder when did we or didn’t we? And really, the least of my brethren. Don’t these words come much more easily than the reality of recognizing him, and perhaps ourselves, in those who are hurting? Hasn’t “the least of our brethren” become so wrapped up in religiosity and Bible-speak that we let the words flow trippingly off the tongue? Words, words, words. And so we pat ourselves on the back when we provide a few cans of food for those in need in this time of outreach, and we retreat to the comfort of our warm homes as we prepare for our Thanksgiving Holiday. But are we really doing it for the least of our brethren or is it really something we are doing because it’s that time and at least we can keep our discomfort at arm’s length, out of sight and still feel good? While we do thank God for churches and charitable enterprises, as they work to serve the needy, unfortunately, they often keep us safely within, “inside” and insulate us from the reality of God. 

Richard Rohr tells us that for centuries all the world’s religions were pointing to heaven or the kingdom of God as something in the “next world.” God is with us, here and now, as revealed in the fellowship of broken people we call church and available to us in the seemingly small gestures of mercy we offer and are offered each and every day. It may not be where we expect God to show up, but it is just where we need him. So, we celebrate Christ the King, not because of his regal bearing, but because of his humility; not because of his power, but because of his compassion and his presence in us and the least of these…

 

Come Share Your Master’s Joy

How many of us grew up thinking of God whose “performance standards” were rigid and unbending? Weren’t many of us taught to believe that God required us to work at and earn our salvation, and that it was up to us as to whether we enter the Kingdom? Yet, we are told that we are loved and there is nothing we can do to lose God’s love. And we don’t earn salvation; the Kingdom is ours just because we are children of God. Which is it? While it’s not my place to say that we have no “skin in the game,” and can’t do anything to earn it, I do believe that we are “required” to live a God centered life as Jesus did…even if the Kingdom is our “entitlement.”

It gets confusing doesn’t it? On the one hand Jesus tells us the Kingdom of God is now, and on the other hand he seems to be telling us that there are measurable performance standards required prior to entry. Last week’s parable of the “foolish virgins” (Matthew 25:14-30) had more to say about being prepared than reward and punishment. It called for us to lead a God-centered life embodied in the Two Great Commandments and the Spirit of the Beatitudes. As such we are required to take personal responsibility in living our Christian faith.

Life, love and faith, like investments require taking risks in order to increase. And risks require relationships and relationships - true relationships - require that we have the courage to be open, to be vulnerable, to let go of pretense and give our egos a rest. We must take risks and invest ourselves in one another.

When we put our talents to work in the service of God, we take risks (Matthew 25:14-30). When we are willing to be imperfect and reveal our humanity we are capable of being open to one another and see ourselves in the other. This is risky business and taking risks is not easy; its consequences can cause anxiety. When we invest ourselves in one another, the outcome cannot be guaranteed. But, so what…we have a “safety net. Nancy Rockwell writes, “…there is power that comes from the joy of receiving life as a gift, and from the confidence of being loved by God. The enthusiasm in this sure hope opens us readily to share with others the bounty we have, our bounty of ideas, of welcome, of the riches in the day itself, and all of this is a sure way to increase our bounty. Matthew says those who were given much went to others for help in increasing it. That upbeat, expectant interaction, that can-do spirit, grows everything it touches.”

 

 

Stay awake for you know neither the day or the hour

The kind of waiting Matthew is encouraging through this parable (Matthew 25: 1-13) is difficult. Waiting for something way over due, waiting for something you’re not sure will even come is challenging. How about waiting for someone who is the center of your life and not sure when he or she will arrive? It’s irritating and thoughtless when we have no idea, but maybe they themselves don’t know. All I know is that it makes me apprehensive. This special arrival involves preparation but I’m so distracted I can barely concentrate on what I am supposed to do. And what about the times we waited for a call from a doctor or lab test result? There is nothing we can do to prepare, what’s done is done. We just wait. This kind of waiting is really hard.

Whether what we are waiting for is good or bad hardly matters, the anxiety and stress of living in the “in-between time” of waiting can be difficult. This parable reminds us that we are not alone in our waiting. Upon closer look Jesus is speaking of his own “in-between time,” his own time of waiting. The scene is set between Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem and his trial and crucifixion. And one thing on which Matthew and all the Gospel writers agree is that Jesus knew what was coming. Yet here he is, still teaching the crowds; debating his opponents, and instructing his disciples…even as he waits for the coming cross. When he gets to the garden we know how difficult waiting was for Jesus, and how all his followers were so “hard to find,” even after he asked them to wait with him.

Waiting for Jesus’ imminent return is difficult for most of us to conceptualize; yet, Jesus’ presence is with us always. Each time we work for justice, we testify to the presence of Jesus. Each time we help each other, we testify to Jesus’ presence. Each time we stand up for the poor, or reach out to the friendless, or work to make this world God loves a better place, we testify to the presence of the Risen Christ.

Yet, these efforts are not always easy to sustain and we can grow frustrated by the lack of “measurable outcomes.” Let’s admit it, on any given day, at any given time each of us may discover we are a foolish bridesmaid. Given this reality, let’s reclaim our church as a place where we can find help and support in our waiting – all kinds of waiting! – and support as we try to live our Christian life. I find it striking that Paul closes this part of his letter to those first-century Thessalonians that found their own waiting nearly intolerable with these words, “Therefore, encourage one another….” (David Lose, In the Meantime, 11/3/14)

We are the Church. We are those who wait for each other. We are those who support each other in times of pain, loss or bereavement. We are those who help each other wait, and prepare, and keep the faith. In all these ways, we encourage each other with the promises of Christ. That’s what it means to be Christ’s followers, then and now. And that’s why we come together each Sunday, to hear and share the hope-creating promises of Jesus.