Can Holy Mother Church be Saved? ..... Yes, she can.

I’m never sure why I write these things – these essays that nobody reads.  Maybe they’re just for my own self-edification or to sort out my thoughts for my own sake to share with no one.  But, in the long run, it really doesn't matter, now, does it.

Now that the dust is beginning to settle from General Convention 2012, I’m beginning to ruminate about its consequences and actions.  Of course, what I think doesn’t really make much difference.  After all, I’m a part-time parish priest with no real standing anywhere.  Not that I’m complaining, mind you.  I like it that way.  Just putting my credentials, or lack thereof, out there. 

And on one level, I really have no dog in this race.  Granted, I’m a partnered, gay man – today is our ninth anniversary – so the whole same-gender unions thing is important – to an extent.  On one level, it doesn’t go far enough.  Gay folk are still second class citizens in the Church and will remain so until the same rite used for heterosexuals is used for us and we actually call gay relationships what they really are: marriages.  But what General Convention has enacted is a good first step.

On the other hand, it really doesn’t make much difference to me one way or another.  What Ron and I have is indeed marriage whether Holy Mother Church says so or not.  But this isn’t a monologue on the theology and history of marriage.  That’s for another time.  We don’t really need the Church to validate us.  We can do that on our own, thank you very much.  And those we love and care about and those who love and care about us see our marriage as such.  So does the State of Washington.  So, I guess in some ways it’s a moot point. 

The thing that I’m finding curious, and have for some time now, is the manner in which this issue has become so divisive.  Not that it shouldn’t be.  There will always be differences of opinion, deeply held opinion, on such subjects.  We are, after all, humans and when one puts two human beings in a room and asks each the same question one will receive three opinions, at least!  That’s the way we’re hardwired. 

Both “sides” of the opinion field come from basically the same place.  Both come to heart-felt beliefs – for which they are willing to die in a ditch – to some degree honestly and for various reasons as well as personal experiences, histories and biases.  Each side has its theological, biblical and secular reasons for the conclusions to which they have come.  Each side also ignores the facts that the other side presents.  And each side believes that its opinion is the right and only conclusion to which any committed Christian can come. 

When one boils it all down, theology isn’t really the issue.  As a colleague reminded me, this is much more a psychological issue than an issue of belief.  Each side has had its feelings hurt....badly; though each side would be loathe to admit it.  Many of those quarreling are men and men in general wouldn't know a feeling if it slapped them in the face - especially white, Anglo-Saxon men.  For the conservatives dealing with the marriage issue, I really think that their real problem is the "ick" factor.  Comments I've read center on what two men do in the bedroom but rarely what two women do.  It seems to be a visceral reaction to something they consider beyond distasteful.  Well, the ick factor is OK.  It's what they're feeling.  But basing one's argument on feelings rather than facts isn't a helpful way to come to conclusions.  The exact same can be said about the GLBT community.  While its paranoia may be based in some profound experience of personal and communal history, at some point those feelings of paranoia need to be worked through and healed.  Wallowing in self pity is never the road to wholeness.  The Church, at least the Episcopal Church, isn't a place where such self pity is necessary.  The Gospel of Jesus is about transformation and healing, not wallowing in the muck.  The cross was three hours.  The resurrection is eternal.

However, ours is not a Tradition of blacks and whites, of knowledge of the ultimate truth beyond some basics like “Love God, love your neighbor.”  We have always been a Tradition of multiple opinions, practices and beliefs.  We have even gone so far as to label the adherents to these beliefs and practices as “parties” at different points.  These parties have fought and scrapped for their beliefs, sometimes vociferously.  And when the dust had settled, they gathered around the same Table and broke bread together and passed the Cup, understanding that what they held dearest was still incomplete at best.

Our present situation is different, and I might add, in my opinion quite un-Anglican and certainly un-Christian.  Each side has based its opinion on their experience of the Divine, its study of Scripture and theology and its own personal and cultural biases.  This is all fine and good and as it should be.  How else does one come to a conclusion?  At the same time, each side has taken on the role of being the mouthpiece for God – claiming ultimate, sole truth – while demonizing the other.  Accusations are made of the other side being “un-Christian,” or “bigots,” or certainly on the road to hell.  People have walked away from the table while the other side has said, “Good riddance.” 

Some have made the argument that the Church has declined in membership because of certain trends within its ranks and have abandoned her like rats on a sinking ship without looking at the statistics.  These statistics reveal that all churches are declining in membership especially the evangelical churches and the Roman Church.  However, I believe that the decline in membership within the Episcopal Church has little to do with Prayer Book revision or the ordination of women or the blessing of same-gender unions.  I believe that the decline in membership among the churches and especially the Episcopal Church is due to the fact that those outside the Church do not see an outward and visible sign of the presence of Jesus.  We have willingly left behind our call as a Tradition offering to the world a community in which to deal with the ambiguities of life and faith and have replaced it with the need for being “right.”  We have lost our abilities to see that the other side may have a kernel of truth buried somewhere.  And we have lost the mutual respect for each other to which our Baptismal Covenant calls us, not to mention Jesus himself.  We have become – each side of us – has become arrogant and self-righteous at the expense of the other and at the expense of the Gospel.  And the time has come for us to cease and desist and return to the humility before God to which Jesus calls us. 

The prime example of this phenomenon is seen regarding the full participation of the GLBT community.  Over the past forty years, the GLBT community within the Church has been vocal about the pain it has suffered feeling like second class citizens.  It has blamed who are labeled “conservatives” as being narrow minded and bigoted and the source of its pain.  Those who object to the full participation of the GLBT community within the life of the Church have labeled this community as “sinners” or worse and the decision of the Church to bless the unions of same-gendered couples as a betrayal of Scripture and tradition and even God “himself.”  This betrayal is blamed on abandoning the true faith at best and at worst heresy.  And this betrayal is the fault of the liberals who are much more concerned with being politically correct than faithful.  And the actions of these liberals have caused them such great agony.  And for each side, the only way that such pain can be alleviated is by the former abandoning its position and firmly taking up and firming the cause of the latter.

But we have always been a Tradition of the middle way.  From the time of Elizabeth I, we have always not just tolerated but celebrated the fact that while striving for the same thing – reconciliation and renewal of the world in Christ – we approach it from different vantage points and places.  Ultimately, we have affirmed the same Creeds and prayed from the same Prayer Books and read the same Bible but been open to various and sometimes seemingly and actual opposite interpretations of the same.  And we have lived comfortably with that knowing that our knowledge of God is miniscule compared to the Being of the Divine.  But we have forgotten that we are but human.  We have forgotten that we are fallible and inconsistent beings created in the image of God whose love for us is infinitely beyond our comprehension – and not just us, but for the whole world.  And until these trends are admitted, addressed, worked through and healed, the Church as a national institution will continue to flounder and make absolutely no difference in the world.  We will continue to be viewed as hypocrites and Pharisees by the vast majority of the population and rightfully so.

I am certainly not willing to claim to be the mouthpiece of God but I am willing to offer an educated opinion based on my own sense of the Divine and the teachings of our Lord with the caveat that I may be totally wrong.  However, the opinion is that the Church as institution needs to move into new – or old – territory.  I believe that she is being called to be a witness to the love of God made manifest in the person of Jesus of Nazareth whom we call “the Christ.”  This is not a new call.  But she needs to begin the process of listening and hearing from both sides of the ecclesiastical spectrum all over again.  She needs to acknowledge that among her children there are those who hold beliefs and opinions so dear to them that they are willing to die in a ditch for them.  The last thing she needs to do is tell her children to “play nice.”  Nice never solves anything.  It just fosters smoke screens and subtle – or not so subtle - dishonesty.  But what Holy Mother Church MUST do is insist - in the name of Jesus Christ - that we affirm the vital things that unite us: the faith in the Trinity, the Humanity and Divinity of Christ, the Sermon on the Mount, the Golden Rule; and refuse to condemn each other for the things that divide us.  Agreement is not the goal.  Honesty is the goal.  Mutual respect in the midst profound differences is the goal.  The end of judgment and condemnation is the goal.  Humility is the goal.  In a word, the Gospel is the goal. 

Only when Holy Mother Church has begun the healing process between her children can she get on with the real work of the Church: reaching the world with the unconditional love of God in Christ.  That’s our job.  That’s our mission.  We’ve spent enough time arguing with and condemning each other about tertiary issues and put the Gospel on the back burner.  And the world is laughing at us and rightfully so.  And, at the risk of being the mouthpiece of God, God is shaking the divine head and rolling the divine eyes. 

The Anglican Communion in general and the Episcopal Church in particular – among others – has the best “product” on the market.  Our worship is second to none.  Our theology is intentionally broad – for the previously stated reasons.  Our music is glorious.  We reach out into the world trying to alleviate human suffering.  We have a commitment to justice and peace not based on political correctness but in our response to the teachings of Our Lord.  But our advertizing is horrendous.  And the only way we can correct it is to return to the foundations upon which our Tradition was founded.  We need to return to the Gospel which unites us and agree to disagree on the secondary and tertiary issues – for they have become the Devil among us - and get on with the work of renewing the world in Christ. 

Therefore, I, a simple parish priest of little account – who likes it that way! – call upon the hierarchy of the Episcopal Church – and maybe even the Anglican Communion - to invite all its delegates and bishops and any other of the interested faithful to assemble and begin the process of the renewal of the Church.  The hierarchy might invite someone like Archbishop Desmond Tutu as moderator of this gathering = after all, I am talking about truth and reconciliation.  The venue doesn’t have to be a trendy convention center and its participants housed in fancy hotels.  Such a gathering and such renewal must be based in a sincere desire for reconciliation between those whose heart-felt beliefs are very different with the intent of returning to the mission to which we are called.  It must be based on a sincere desire to let go of the need for being “right.”  It must be based on stating beliefs and feelings in humility and respect for those whose beliefs are at the other end of the spectrum.  It must be based on the sincere and heart-felt belief that condemnation and judgment have no place among Christians.  It must be based on the sincere willingness to listen to the deep convictions and hurts of the “other” and understand that such convictions and hurts are not based necessarily in malice or ill-will but a profound commitment to faith as the “other” sees it.  It must also require that each “side” take responsibility and ownership for its own pain and anguish and cease blaming the other as its cause and insisting that until the former side agrees with the latter, the pain will continue.  Such a gathering must gather based on the profound and stated belief that we might understand what it means to “forgive us our sins as forgive those who sin against us.”

When this process has begun, then those assembled must recommit themselves to the Gospel of Jesus Christ – to the basics of the “faith as this Church has received them.”  Such gatherings may start out small and take much time and many gatherings but in the end such gatherings must have at their goal the recommitment to seeking the will of God though the clues may be in shadows and the answers ambivalent and vague – which they always are – without becoming polarized, self-righteous or given to blame.  Such gatherings must recommit themselves to providing Eucharistic communities where those who have frequently seen us as hypocrites and Pharisees feel welcome to join us in trying to figure out the mystery of life in communion with the Divine and Holy One.  At some point, each bishop and delegate needs to return to his/her diocese and begin the same process at home.  Within dioceses which have come to some resolution on the given issues and maybe others, the process needs to happen anyway.  And from the diocese to the parish/mission.  Then, and only then, can the Church begin to grow – not with the intent of increasing numbers of butts in the pews and pledges in the coffers, but with the intent of bring hope and wholeness to a suffering world.  It is only then that Holy Mother Church can regain her own hope and wholeness by living out the mission to which she has been called. 

There is much I revere and respect about the Roman Church, at least on a theological level.  There are also things that I don't buy into such as the Marian Dogmas, the Roman version of Purgatory, the all male priesthood and the obsessive legalism which seems to pervade her, not to mention that my take on the Gospel and the teachings of Our Lord are considered much too liberal for her tastes.


We Episcopalians and Anglicans are not immune from our own versions of hypocrisy but at least we seem to be attempting to confront them when they rear its ugly head.  However, the hypocrisy of Rome has gone to the point where it betrays the Gospel.  The fact that the hierarchy continues to diminish (a deeper word needs to be found) the abuse of children by priests while opening an all out assault on the backbone of the Church, her Nuns, is about as anti-Christian as one can get.  The hierarchy of the Roman Church has lost all credibility.  The Roman laity continue to uphold the Gospel and live the teachings of Jesus while their "leaders" drag the Church further and further back into the Medieval and Dark Ages.  


I can never deny the validity of the Eucharist of the Roman Church.  It's the same as the Anglican Eucharist.  But the celebration of this most Blessed Event by the hierarchy has become an abomination in and of itself.  To celebrate the Mass while at the same time subjugating women, condemning gay people as "unnatural," accumulating wealth, power and status which could alleviate most of the suffering on the planet may just be an abomination.  Celebrating the very presence of Christ himself while denying and willingly rejecting what he taught is the very definition of sin.  Claiming to hold absolute truth while while living a lie is totally contrary to the message for which Christ went to the Cross. 


I don't want to judge the leaders of Roman Church - as Our Lord has forbidden such things, and rightfully so.  And it certainly is not the place of a simple parish priest of little status to cast aspersions on Successors to the Apostles.  But, as a baptized Christian who vows to "work for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being," to sit back and say nothing concerning these things is to give tacit approval.  As a priest, called to pastor and teach, to say nothing is to be a false witness to those to whom I am responsible.  And as a human being, to sit back and say nothing - and do nothing - while my fellow humans are degraded and belittled, even denied their full humanity, especially in the name of Christ, is to betray my own humanity.  


There is little a simple, rather insignificant (and gladly so!) Episcopal parish priest can do to set right the wrongs of another and more powerful institution, let alone his own.  But I can and do pray, and invite you to do the same.  Pray for a new heart for the Bishop of Rome and his henchmen.  Pray for strength, fortitude and courage for the Roman Catholic laity and the thousand of faithful priests and nuns that serve them.  And pray for ourselves.

O Gracious One, we pray for thy holy Catholic Church. Fill it with all truth, in all truth with all peace. Where it is corrupt, purify it; where it is in error, direct it; where in any thing it is amiss, reform it. Where it is right, strengthen it; where it is in want, provide for it; where it is divided, reunite it; for the sake of Jesus Christ thy Son our Savior.  

Amen. 

                 From The Book of Common Prayer (1979), adapted.

EASTER - THE GREAT FEAST OF THE RESURRECTION!

As we all know, the Gospels were written beginning a generation or so after the events of Holy Week and Easter.  These twenty-five years or so gave the fledgling Christian Community time to digest the events and try to figure out exactly what happened.  Of course, we're still trying to figure all of that out to this day.

One of the things the Evangelists did was to make the assumption that all of this was God's plan giving Jesus the words to predict his Resurrection.  But the truth of the matter is that probably not even Jesus himself knew what was going on.  If the Apostles HAD known, they'd'a taken him off to the Cross three years earlier saying, "Let's get this puppy moving!"  

And if Jesus had known, he'd've made it clear to them. They'd've been outside the tomb on that first Easter morning in a festive mood waiting to hand him a Mocha instead of the Magdalene asking Jesus if he were the gardener.

And why the outpouring of grief?  If he'd told them he'd be back, they'd'a just bided their time and "Voila! I'm back!" But grief and fear is where they were.  

I always think of three people during Holy Week: The Blessed Mother, St. John and the Magdalene.  There is no deeper or more profound grief than the death of a child no matter the age, and the firstborn makes it even worse.  Our Lady's grief has been portrayed through the centuries, but its true depth will never be fathomed.  

   St. John was Jesus' best friend.  And we know how deep friendship between straight guys can be.  But they NEVER talk about it.  And when death happens, all that pent up, never spoken emotion comes to the surface and the pain is incredible. 

   And Dan Brown wasn't the first to make the conjecture that Our Lord and the Magdalene may have been more than friends.  Such conversations were happening in the First Century among devout Christians.  However, no matter the relationship, the Magdalene loved Jesus more than any other human being.  And her grief would've been devastating. 

Given the outpouring of grief and the men in hiding, huddled in fear, no one was expecting the Resurrection.  It wasn't a minute blip on anyone's radar screen.  And I suspect it was the same for Jesus.  Otherwise, the pain of the Cross would've been assuaged by the thoughts of, "Well, I'll be back on Sunday.  No big deal."  I suspect he woke up in the tomb that first Easter morning and said to himself, "WOW! This is what Dad was talking about.  COOL!!"  If Jesus' suffering was truly redemptive, then it would have to have been true suffering, not just some temporary state that would be over soon.

And on a human level, the Resurrection doesn't make sense.  As humans, if someone had murdered our child, we'd be, "OK, EVERYBODY OUTA DA POOL!" and destruction of epic proportion would begin! 

But instead of celestial devastation, God raises Jesus from the dead.  Instead of wrath, God proves, once again, that the powers of love and compassion and mercy and justice and peace are infinitely and ultimately stronger than the human beings at their absolute worst and even death itself.  And the Risen Christ emerges from the tomb alive and whole. 

The Resurrection is the pivotal moment in human history.  It's the moment when God acts as God has never acted before....or since...at least with such intensity.  It is that moment when earth and heaven meet and humanity is reborn.  And as magnificent as that moment it, it's not JUST about Jesus.  Its also about us. 

I know for a fact that every one of us in this Church this morning have found ourselves nailed to a cross at one time or another.  We've all found ourselves betrayed or publicly humiliated, or the powers of death have overcome the people we love or us.  We've all been at that moment when we were at the bottom of the barrel and there was no way out.  There was no hope.  The only thing was to wait...wait for death to overtake us either physically or metaphorically.  Hope was dead and no one could bring us back.  No one.  

And then....

God steps in and removes the nails and gently takes us down from the cross and walks us through the tomb into the cool morning of the garden.  And we are new.  Like Jesus, we're not exactly who we were when we were nailed up, but we're still here, alive and becoming whole with the hope of becoming something new.

   When we are at the end of our ropes, God steps in unexpectedly and the same power that raised Jesus from the dead raises us to new and abundant life.  

That same power that raised Jesus from the dead is continually transforming our world and has been since the moment of Creation.  Through out human history, when things are at their bleakest, God has stepped in unexpectedly and brought the world out into the brightness of day.  And when the human race finds itself at the bottom of the barrel again, the process begins again. And one day in hopefully the not too distant future, in the twinkling of an eye, the world will be new and whole and alive. 

This is the feast of the Lord's Resurrection, our annual celebration of God raising Christ from the powers of death and destruction.  But it's also the feast of OUR resurrection.  It's not a feast to look into the future to see ourselves resurrected after this life is over.  That resurrection is a given.  Rather, it's the feast to celebrate the very fact that during this life, when all hope is lost, God unexpectedly embraces us and brings us - in this life - to new joy and peace and transformation; that the same power which raised Jesus from the dead comes and raises us too.  It's what St. Paul means when he talks about our sharing in Christ's Resurrection.

So, the next time you find yourself at the bottom of that barrel and you truly are convinced that there is no hope, know that you are not alone, that Christ himself, the Risen One, is there with you, embracing you and leading you out into the sunlight.  The Risen Christ may communicate through other people or through a book you read or through a new and unbelievable thought that races through your mind.  Or, as with the Apostles, the Risen Christ may just show up.  But however he does it, rest assured that you will be raised....you WILL be raised....into the new and abundant life of Jesus Christ our Risen Lord. 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Christ is Risen indeed! ALLELUIA!

PALM SUNDAY

In the Name of the Crucified.  Amen.

And so, it’s over.  Jesus is dead.  The rain comes down and Joseph of Aramathea and his friends take the body down and prepare it for burial.  The Blessed Mother cradles the head of her first born in her arms and wails as lightening splits the skies.  And she will not be comforted.

And we all know who did it.  There’s always the finger to point. “Whose fault was it?”  Mark is the first to put pen to parchment and write a Gospel -  written some forty years after the event.  By this time, the hostility between the Jewish and Christian communities was in high gear so it was easy for the author to blame the death of Jesus on the Jews. 

But in reality, there were only about fifty or so Jewish men involved in the trial and execution of Our Lord.  Between the office of the High Priest and the Sanhedrin and the Elders, it wasn’t a big group.  It may have been about the same number of Romans involved between Pilate and the court system - as well as the soldiers that played a part.  Certainly it wasn’t the whole Jewish nation responsible for the death of Christ, though that community has suffered mercilessly up to the present for a crime it didn’t commit.  And since the Roman Empire eventually converted to Christianity, of course their part in the story would be all but forgotten. 

But there remains the question of “why.”  Why did Jesus go to the cross?  Was it even necessary?

There has never been a dogma pronounced by the Church on the Atonement as has been on the dogmas of the Trinity or the Incarnation.  The meaning of Jesus’ death and what it accomplished is still open to question and debate. 

The Early Church wasn’t concerned with such questions.  To the Early Church, the death of Jesus and his subsequent Resurrection defeated the powers of sin and death.  One participated in that defeat by being a member of the Christian community.  It was very simple.

No one seriously asked any deeper questions until the coming of St. Augustine of Hippo in the 4^th Century.  Augustine had lived a life of debauchery until his conversion and then felt horribly guilty about it afterwards.  Not being able to cope, he came up with the doctrine of Original Sin – that all people, including himself – had inherited Adam and Eve’s guilt for their disobedience in the Garden of Eden, and all deserved eternal damnation because they had ticked God off to the nth degree.  Oddly enough, neither Judaism nor the Christianity before Augustine had any concept of Original Sin.  The Eastern Church never even thought about it.  In reality, it should be called “Augustine's Sin.”

It is no wonder that an Englishman named Pelagius saw through Augustine and challenged him.  But he lost and entered the realm of obscurity and was labeled a heretic.  But another Englishman, over a thousand years late, St. Anselm – then Archbishop of Canterbury – took Augustine one step further.  Anselm came up with the idea of Substitutionary Atonement, the idea that God was so angry about sin and disobedience that he wanted and deserved vengeance and retribution.  But instead God sent Jesus to pay the the price for human sin and those who believed were spared their sentence.  Somewhere, I think Anselm missed the logic.  Also smacks of child abuse.

Of course, the Continental Reformers took this to ludicrous extremes.  Calvin taught that such an Atonement was only for the elect.  The Calvinist Puritans in this country founded the legacy which led to the rise of Fundamentalism in the early 20^th Century. And Luther believed that God loathed the human race because of its sin but when He looked down from heaven, all he saw was the blood of Christ on the Baptized and had mercy on them for the blood alone, not for any worth of their own. 

 

But there is, and always has been, another school of thought surrounding the events of Jesus trial and execution – one that never got the press of the other schools because one can’t control the crowds as well - one that looks at these events from a different vantage point – a vantage point of a compassionate God, who being outside of time and space knew how the human race would turn out in the act of creation; a God who took the risk of giving humans free will knowing what we might do with it but took the risk anyway.  Vengeance and retribution from such a deity would be nothing but tyranny – a truly human trait.  Such a vantage point presents God as never being angry about sin, but profoundly saddened by it.  Such a God doesn’t require a sacrifice for sin.  But eventually that God decided to become one of us in Jesus of Nazareth to teach the world to live in compassion and mercy and peace; a God whose love for the human race was never in doubt – a love which embraced everyone, both saint and sinner.  And with that love, the world would be transformed into new and abundant life.

But such a message scares the living daylights out of us, especially those among us who are wealthy and powerful.  Teaching that all are equal in God’s eyes threatens such power and wealth because those at the bottom of the food chain come to realize that those at the top are no better than they are.  And such raising of human dignity creates the danger of insurrection and revolution.

And these hundred Jewish and Roman men and their friends felt so threatened by Jesus and what he was preaching that the only thing they could think of in response was to execute him in order to shut him up.  Kill him and be done with him.  Problem solved. 

It’s easy to point the finger at a hundred men who lived two thousand years ago.  What vile creatures they were: inhumane, vicious, cowardly men who could only respond from their own greed and fear and ignorance.  But the truth of the matter is that they were and are us.  It’s an unfortunate truism that when humans are backed into a corner we respond in the most vile of ways.  And the stronger the threat, the viler the response.  We become vicious and vindictive and, if backed far enough, murderous.  Humans responding to their own fear become irrational and violence and death frequently ensue.  Look at human history.  Well, why go that far back?  Just look at the last and present centuries: The Great War to end all wars; the Armenian Genocide; the Genocides in the Balkans, The Second World War, Vietnam, Rwanda, Iraq – twice!, the concentration camps of the National Socialists which exterminated fourteen million people, six million of them Jews still paying the price for the death of Christ.  I could go on, but you get the picture. 

The truth of the matter is that neither the hundred Jews nor Romans are solely responsible for the execution of Our Lord.  It is we humans who put Jesus on the Cross.  Those hundred men are unfortunate Sacraments: outward and visible signs of what we as humans can do and have done.  It is a humanity living out of its basest instincts of survival at any cost.  It’s easy to marginalize those hundred men, but the very truth is that they are us – us at our worst – humanity gone to the dogs.  Somehow, the message of Jesus scares us to death – literally.  For some reason, when humans are confronted with absolute compassion and mercy, we head for the hills.  We don’t believe it.  We don’t buy it – even if it’s true.  And we lash out.  And the results are beyond what the darkest places in our souls can begin to imagine.

It’s very tempting at this point for a preacher to go and sit down and get on with the Liturgy.  By now, we should all feel requisitely guilty and at the verge of despair.  But such a preacher wouldn’t be worth his or her weight in salt.  We’re Anglicans.  We’re the Catholics that don’t do guilt.  And we’re Christians that proclaim that power of God is stronger than even death itself. 

It may seem premature to talk about the Resurrection, but let’s face it, we all know how the story ends.  We’ve all bought new hats and baskets and that plastic grass stuff to go in them with the chocolate eggs and bunnies.  So, the Resurrection isn’t a new story.  But it’s the story of what life is all about.

As you all know, I have no children.  I’ve been owned by cats through the years however.  And I’ve loved those cats as if they were children.  And I know that if anyone had dared to come near one of them, I’d’ve ripped their eyes out.  And I’m sure that you who are parents have a much deeper and more profound love for your children than one can ever have for a cat.  And had I been God, which thank goodness I’m not, and the people I loved most betrayed me and executed my child, I’d’ve been, “OK!  EVERYBODY OUTA D’POOL!  THIS GAME’S OVER!”  And the suffering and devastation that would’ve followed would be epic! 

But I and you are human.  God is not.  And at the darkest moment in human history, when humanity had sunk into the pit of its worst depravity, God’s response is not vengeance nor retribution nor divine wrath, but love.  Instead of “everybody outa d’pool!” God raises Jesus from the dead – a living and breathing witness that the powers of love and compassion and mercy and forgiveness and peace are stronger than even death itself.  And that witness goes even deeper.  Not only does God raise Jesus from the dead, but God raises us too.  All of us find ourselves occasionally nailed to crosses – alone, despairing, frightened, betrayed.  And when we’re stuck in the tomb, it is the power of God that bids us into the garden, and into new life.  It is the power of God, the same power that raised Jesus from the dead, that gives us the courage and fortitude so that when we’re backed into a corner we respond with mercy and loving-kindness, with reconciliation and peace.  And it is the power of the Resurrection that holds the same promise to change and renew the world in which we live.  

Holy Week is a time for us to retell the story of the last days of our Lord.  It is an important week to remind ourselves of the loving compassion of our God.  But it is also a time for us to retell our own stories – a time for us to remember the joys of friendship and the depths of despair, a time to remember the God who enters our own tombs and brings us out into the bright sunshine of day. 

Let us walk this Week together, through the Passion and Death and Resurrection of our Lord.  Through Liturgy and sacred song, through ritual and metaphor we relive the truth that out of death comes life – and life more abundant.  For it is through his death and Resurrection that we to have new and abundant life and peace and hope; the peace of the Resurrection; the peace of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Click on the Poster to see it full size.- Note the corrected date!

The Cleansing of the Temple - Lent III

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

I have to admit that this morning’s Gospel makes me uncomfortable. Let’s face it: we’re Anglicans and as Anglicans we have a great tendency to see Jesus in a very positive light. I was raised with the images of Jesus in a field with children and sheep, or Jesus standing in solidarity with the poor and the marginalized: a kind and loving Jesus who taught us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.

But the Jesus in this morning’s Gospel is none of those things.

He’s royally ticked! He’s angry and violent; a Jesus I don’t like to think about – a Jesus for whom the word “livid” is woefully inadequate – a Jesus in a rage that is neither forgiving nor compassionate.

Now, while I have some great discomfort with this portrayal of Our Lord, I have to admit that he had a point. The system within the Temple precincts was about as corrupt as one could get. The whole sacrificial system had been turned into a money-making scheme by the Priests, the Scribes and the Sadducees at the expense of the regular, ordinary go-to-Synagogue Jewish peasant.

But the sacrifices were deemed necessary to please God for a whole host of personal and public needs. In the olden days, one could bring ones animal to the Temple to be sacrificed. In those days, going to the Temple for a sacrifice was somewhat like going to the butcher shop and having a picnic. People took the animal with them to the Temple. Then the animal was slaughtered and, depending on the reason for the sacrifice, part of it was burned, the best part given to the Priest as payment and the rest roasted and returned to the one offering the Sacrifice who then prepared a large feast for the family and everyone enjoyed the leftovers. For lesser sacrifices, smaller animals were offered without the resulting picnic.

But as time went on, things got a bit more sinister. Rules and regulations about the quality of the animal began to be written. They had to be spotless and without blemish, or of a certain age. And for the ordinary Jewish peasant, especially for those living within cities, raising an animal for sacrifice wasn’t easy. One had to purchase an animal at the Temple to be subsequently dispatched.

Now, one couldn’t just walk into the Temple Court of the Gentiles and purchase an animal and then trot off to the Altar. First, one had to have the proper cash. The Temple authorities had devised a system through which only Temple currency was acceptable for the purchase of a sacrificial animal. Even the Jewish Shekel wasn’t acceptable. It was impure. So, one went to the money-changer within the Court of the Gentiles and exchanged one’s Shekels for Temple Money.

Now, of course, the money changers did their work for a fee but the fees were high. Not only did they have to make a living at this profession, they had to pay the Temple authorities for the privilege of their profession which meant that the exchange rate was exorbitant. And since the exchange rate was so high, most common ordinary Jewish peasants really couldn’t afford to offer sacrifices. And of course, the Temple Priests were pretty strict about the idea that if one couldn’t offer sacrifices, don’t count on God’s favor. Of course, this left the local peasantry feeling as if they were worth virtually nothing in God’s eyes.

And, so this is the Temple into which Jesus walks in the last week of his life. And he’s hunting for bear. He’s had enough. And with uncharacteristic violence and rage and a whole bunch of Aramaic four letter words, he wreaks mayhem and destruction within the Temple. And he makes his point: this Temple is to be a house of prayer, not the local Walmart.

Now, while I personally find this episode uncomfortable, I also find it profound. Nowhere else in the New Testament do we find Jesus reacting in such a visceral and disturbing manner. While the Priests and Scribes and the Pharisees and the Sadducees seemed to have their knickers in a twist about ritual purity, Jesus doesn’t seem to be concerned about it much if at all.

The woman caught in adultery and thrown at Jesus feet: he responds to her by saying, “Don’t do that. It’s degrading. You’re worth more than that.” He calls a tax-collector to be a member of his inner circle. The woman who bankrolls Jesus Inc. was once the possessed by seven demons. He has lunch with ladies of the evening and other such rabble – and in those days, to share a meal with someone was a sign of friendship. None of these people raise in Our Lord the ire, the sheer rage that is expressed in the Temple. As a matter of fact, there is no anger at all. Love? Compassion? Forgiveness? Yes. But no anger, no rage, no violence, no destruction.

The thing that seems to have sent Our Lord over the edge was those to whom power and authority had been entrusted, who then turned around and used that power and authority to oppress and degrade and control those lower on the societal ladder. This was the one thing that just sent him into orbit. And it scared the living daylights out of the Romans and the Big Whigs at the Temple. And so they decided to get rid of him, once and for all.

I look at the nation in which we live, in which we are citizens and then I look at this morning’s Gospel lesson. Not much has changed. I look at those coming out of the Clown Car the news people are calling Decision 2012 and radio talk show hosts and just shake my head. All of them call themselves devout Christians, but none of them seem to get it.

It seems impossible to me that in the 21^st Century we’re having a national debate on whether women have the right to ask the insurance companies which they pay to assure that they will have health care just because a few men find their sensibilities offended. 

I find it incredible that in a city in which people are sleeping under overpasses and bridges and many in the south part of town don’t have enough to eat, or enough money to heat their homes, the local Archbishop is mustering his forces and all the cash he can just to insure that legislation granting same-sex couples the right to marry is overturned.

I myself have a visceral reaction every time I hear some politician refer to the poor and the needy as lazy parasites while allocating billions for the production of implements of war and assuring that their buddies don’t need to pay their fair share of taxes.

Tricky Ricky Santorum

What has become increasingly obvious is that if Jesus were physically present in human form rather than in just Bread and Wine, the episode in the Temple from this morning’s Gospel would look like a Sunday School picnic.

On one level, it’s easy to point out the inconsistencies of our own nation and society. It’s also easy, at least for me, to get my own knickers in a twist about the same things. And being aware of and responding to such things is what we as Christians are called to do in so far as we are physically, emotionally and spiritually able. And the Church gives us such readings in Lent to remind us of what was important to Jesus and what wasn’t.

But the hard part of Lent, at least for me, is to ask: in what ways is my own heart just like the Temple in the time of Jesus? How do I try to control or manipulate or degrade or oppress other people? Where do I fall short? What are my motives? And I have to admit that my motives are usually based in fear of the other and fear of the unknown.

And I also have to ask myself: in what ways to I try to be pure and upright and righteous not just for the sake of doing so and as a thanksgiving to God for the gift of life, but rather believing that such purity and righteousness will make God love me more, or so that others will think better of me than they might otherwise?

I find it easy to point the finger at political and public figures and find valid fault with their actions, but it’s much more difficult to point the finger at myself and realize that, though on not such a grand scale, I am no different.

But there is also a joy in Lent. A great joy; a joy based in the promise that when we find ourselves sitting in our own Temples and changing the money, there is One with us whose love for us is never in question – who has no desire to come in and throw over our money tables; there is a joy in the understanding that we are human and will never be perfect; there is great joy in the knowledge that God’s love for the human race and for ourselves as individuals isn’t based on what we do, but who we are: the beloved. And all of that changes everything.

What changes is that I begin to see those coming out of the Clown Car not as ignorant fools, but as my brothers and sisters just as worthy of God’s compassion as I am. I begin to see the Archbishop no longer as a mean-spirited prelate, but as a human being with fears and foibles just as I have my own fears and foibles and also as my brother.

I begin to know that those fellahs trying to drag my sisters back into the Victorian age, while totally clueless, are no less clueless than I am at times and that God’s love for them has never nor ever shall be, in doubt.

Lent began by Holy Mother Church calling us to the observance of a holy Lent, by self examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. And she does so, in her wisdom, to remind us of our own humanity, that we are one community – globally, nationally, ethnically, culturally – and that we will never be perfect or get it right. She does so to remind us that being human is just fine and that we must rely on God to make up the difference. But she also, in her wisdom, calls us to lives of forgiveness and mercy, to lives of compassion and goodwill, not just for ourselves, but for those whose lives and values and mindsets might be totally different than our own.

And why does she call us to such things? To remind us that even though we may be so very different from God, so incomplete, that we are and always have been God’s beloved; not just you and me, but all of us; and that we are to reach out to each other as each other’s beloved in Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Amen.