What's Past is Past

 

In Matthew’s deceptively simple parable (Matthew 21 28-32), Jesus invites his adversaries to look at the future, as one not dominated by the arguments of the past, but one that is open to God’s presence in our lives to restore, and make all things new. 

The chief priests and elders do not accept this invitation. The idea of the "presence of God in the lives of man" is not only foreign, it is blasphemous. Besides, they have too much invested in the past and their beliefs which are defined by their own man-made rules that they have they have assumed the “authority” to enforce. 

They have become dependent on their self-created identities and  refuse to give it up for an unknown future. But those who are “down and out,” and represent the marginalized , e.g., the poor, the tax collectors and prostitutes have no past to define or follow them into the future. They eagerly embrace Jesus’ promise of a new life in God's kingdom. 

Throughout our readings of Matthew these past weeks, Jesus makes this same promise to us. We are forgiven solely because there is a forgiver. We are loved unconditionally; we cannot earn or lose God’s love. No matter what we have done, no matter what may have been done to us, the future is still open. Whatever hurt we may have experienced or done in the past is, ultimately…in the past. We do not have to allow the past to define our future or our identity. We do not have to drag our past around with us and take it out whenever we feel the need to linger in its memory. We are more than the sum total of all that has happened to us. 

The future is open. It may seem almost impossible to let go of the past and walk into the future. After all, the past is a known entity; it’s familiar, whereas the future is open… and can be scary. But if we meditate on and invoke the words of Thomas Merton, we know that we are not alone: l will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me alone. No, you will never leave me alone. (excerpts in part from Partner in Preaching, David Lose, 9/22/14)

 

 

The last will be first, and the first will be last."

 The story from (Matthew 20:1-16) is one that asks us to put on the mind of the poet and think in metaphor. On the surface it defies logic and the world of “fairness” in which we live. But man’s sense of fairness and God’s “justice” are not the same. Can we blame some of the gardeners for feeling that they were duped: “what’s going on here; we worked from dusk to dawn, and these guys arrive just before closing time and they get the same pay?  That’s not fair!” Who could argue with their logic? Think of it—if you tried to run a business on the basis of paying everyone the same rate, regardless of how well and long they worked, your business wouldn’t last very long and you’d have some very disgruntled employees.

Just as God’s forgiveness requires that we turn logic on its head and suspend our belief system of “quid pro quo,” likewise God’s realm of justice and peace defies our sense of fairness. God’s love has nothing to do with logic or fairness. These are all part of a human convention and a world based on rules, laws and logic.  There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love or his kingdom. In this kingdom, everyone receives the generosity of God’s grace, God’s unconditional love and God’s unfailing mercy.

David Steindel-Rast writes that “salvation” is homecoming. When love not power reigns supreme, alienation from ourselves, from all others, and from God is healed. The moment we realize we can never fall out of God’s love, we come to “ourselves” like the wayward son in the parable—to our true self at home in the God Household as a uniquely loved member of the family. And now we become catalysts for salvation of the whole world, its transformation from power and domination to service and love. Salvation—and this needs to be stressed—is not a private matter. (Deeper Than Words, Living the Apostle’s Creed, p56.)

In a very real sense, we are all “eleventh hour workers.”

Be Prepared

 

The kind of waiting Matthew is encouraging (Mathew 25:1-13) is difficult. Waiting for something way overdue or 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 if we are left in the dark, although in fairness he or she may not know themselves. In any case, it's unnerving. This special arrival involves preparation but being so distracted, it's hard to concentrate on the tasks at hand. And what about waiting for a return call from a doctor or lab? There is no way to prepare; what’s done is done. We just wait. The anxiety and stress of 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’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his trial and crucifixion. And one thing on which Matthew and the other 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 one another, we testify to Jesus’ presence. Each time we stand up for the poor, or reach out to the friendless, we testify to the presence of the Risen Christ.  

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. 

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.