Pronouncement of Paradise Potentiality

The gospel text for Sunday, August 27, 2023, is Matthew 16:13-20. While listening to a group of pastors debating over where heaven is and what is being loosed, I remembered stories from my childhood. I tried to tell them to the pastors, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. I just can’t get no respect there, so I will share the stories with you, my loyal readers.

So, the story is told of a pride of lions roaming the savannah when they came to a zoo. As they were padding along, one of the lions roared and asked the others, “Who do people say that I am?” The other lions said, “The k
ing! Felix the cat! Here, kitty-kitty. Top cat! A predator!”

“But you? Who do you say that I am?”

“You are the cat’s meow! You are purr-fect!”

The pride leader said, “We all know that there is another way of living than being like these animals trapped in cages. We know that there is a way of living that is free and open—a place where a cat can be cool and laidback. We know that the ideal place for all cats is not locked up like the cats who live in this urbanized place of display and despair. What would you do if I gave you the keys to all these cages? What if I told you that what you locked up today would be locked forever and what you loosed today would live free forever?”

The other lions debated among themselves what their leader was talking about and then decided to ask if the keys were a metaphor for something? The leader said, “No, I have the keys to release all of these cats, and I give those keys to you. So now, what are you going to do with them?”

The other lions ran throughout the zoo unlocking the cages of all the animals and showed them the way to get to the land of openness and cool-cat-laidbackness, and the animals all found the new world to be as it had been created. And the mice learned to hide and travel quietly in this new place of freedom.

Or maybe you should hear the story Old Dad told us when we were growing up. There was once a beautiful mouse named Pandora. She was given a beautiful jar with pictures on the sides of mice playing and frolicking and dancing. The only problem was that this beautiful mouse was told that she could keep the jar anywhere she wanted, but she was never, never to open it.

For years the jar sat on a shelf of honor in her house. Other mice came and admired the jar and asked what the beautiful jar contained.

Pandora always said, “I don’t know now, and I will never know because I am never, never to open it.”

“What a shame,” one mouse said.

“I bet it’s something really good,” another mouse said.

“It must be something amazing with all those beautiful pictures,” another mouse said.

And the years ticked by on the old Grandfather’s clock, and then Pandora couldn’t take it anymore. One night, at midnight, she crept up the Old Grandfather’s clock and then to the honored shelf, and she pushed on the cork in the jar until, all-of-a-sudden, the cork popped out. A fog rose up out of the jar and all kinds of evil stuff entered into the room and, from there, the world while Pandora struggled to find the cork and put it back in the jar. When she got the cork back in the jar, the only thing that was left in it was hope. There hope sat until the great mousiah came and gave the mice that followed him the power to again pull the cork from the jar on the honored shelf.

When the cork was finally pulled, hope sprang out, and, to this day, hope continues to offer a better world—a world that is not filled with just evil and despair, but trust, hope, and love. It is not that evil and despair have been overcome and put back in the jar, but we now can live with the promise of a world that is better if all of the mice can learn to talk and work for the things hoped for instead of trying to prove that they are better than the other mice—if they can learn that trust and hope and love are not just released from the jar, but that they can grow and flourish in our world when we give them away to others who can then trust, hope, and love.

IMAGO DEI (Image of God)

I gave Peter this idea last February. Even though I was repeatedly encouraging, just like all my other advice, he was slow to act on it. Finally, he has it written, and, with my fine editorial touch, we offer this for you to ponder.

 

In 1970, the American Lutheran Church and the Lutheran Church in America elected to ordain women. I doubt that any of those voting really understood the implications and ramifications of that decision, but the world was about to turn; and the turn changed the way we think about Church, society, and the way we relate to God and one another. This decision to ordain women led to some seismic shifts that partially led to the forming of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and initiated a broader view of the Imago Dei, the image of God for God’s people. In the process, I assert, we have become better as believers and as people in general.

 

By the time I began seminary in 1992, women comprised half of my class within the newly formed ELCA, yet many congregations, although they may have intellectually supported the idea of women’s ordination, were resistant to call a woman as their pastor.

 

At the same time, there were still articles being written in some conservative Lutheran journals concerning women’s ordination and the Imago Dei. I recall the concern of one article was that pastors were to be the Imago Dei for the congregation, i.e., Jesus had a penis and women do not. Therefore, women could not be the Imago Dei for the congregation and should not be ordained.

 

This is nonsense. God’s diverse presence reflects the wondrous and complex world we live in. Trying to entrap God in maleness denies the feminine images of God in the Old Testament, and insisting on God’s maleness revealed to us in Jesus as God’s preferred leadership model denies the role of women’s leadership in the early Church. For the ELCA, as for the Israelites, it took some years wandering in the wilderness, but eventually the Church stopped murmuring about the leeks and melons in Egypt.

 

This shift in our Imago Dei understanding did not stop with women. In the 80’s the idea that the Imago Dei meant that pastors needed to be fully able-bodied changed as well. Increasingly, people living with disabilities came to the Church and said, “We too are called to serve.” Now the Church again had to deal with who could be considered for ordination.

About this time, the Church also considered its understanding of pastors of color and the Imago Dei.  White pastors served many congregations of color, but could pastors of color serve white congregations?  Can more than just white, able-bodied people reflect the Imago Dei for all congregations?

 

By the time the Americans with Disabilities Act was signed in 1990, further consideration needed to be made. If the Imago Dei included women, people living with various disabilities, Black, White, Asian, Native American, Latino, Arab, Palestinian, Indian, and more, could the Imago Dei include the openly LGBT (now 2SLGBTQIA+) community as well? Could it be that Jesus wasn’t only speaking pretty words, but that he meant them, when he said, “I give you a new commandment, …. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples ….” (John 13 NRSV).

 

Slowly the Church started moving toward understanding that the Imago Dei might be more elusive and inclusive than our U.S. society was comfortable with. In considering Gen. 1:26 (transliterated), “And said God (pl.), ‘Let us make man in our image according to our likeness’.”, a growing number of scholars, including parish pastors, no longer hear God speaking in royal we language nor in specifically Trinitarian language. They hear God literally using us to describe the Imago Dei, God’s image/likeness, as variegated, multi-abled, multi-gendered, multi-lingual. We are the Imago Dei. God is truly beyond our imaginings and beyond our limitations, and all humankind, with our many shadings, our many abilities, our many physical challenges, our many languages, and manifest in all genders, represents the Imago Dei. God is God and we are not, but we are all God’s reflection in the world.

 

As the ELCA entertained a more diverse Imago Dei and what that might mean for its congregations, while continuing to be the “whitest” denomination in the U.S., our civil society, especially large businesses, engaged a practice of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI). This understanding of DEI—diversity, equity, and inclusion—speaks to an understanding within the Abrahamic religions of God being active in history. As God was an active partner in the freeing of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and Babylon, so God continues to be active in our lives today.

 

When we recognize God’s activity in all people we meet and in all we do, it becomes increasingly difficult to deny the Imago Dei in all the world. Pushing the Imago Dei question further, I assert the new more diverse representation of the Imago Dei can lead us to a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive society. God is working in the midst of our secular society to break down the walls of polarizing judgment and replacing them with the acceptance of the many images of God, building relationships of trust. Potentially, this is the kingdom of heaven that has drawn near (Matt. 4:17, 10:7).

 

As a Christian in the Lutheran tradition, I can claim that Christ’s presence (Imago Dei) continues to be revealed to us in our neighbor as we are called to be Christ to our neighbors.  In this relationship of being the revealed and the revealer of the Imago Dei, we are called to love and serve our neighbor thereby celebrating our diversity, seeking equity (and justice) for all, and welcoming all into the inclusivity (welcoming wholeness) known in God’s presence, the DEI of Imago Dei.

 

Wrestling in this way with the diversity of the Imago Dei and its call for equity and inclusive community, tests and emboldens our ability and willingness to recognize God’s active presence in our current political maelstrom. As I see God active in Cyrus rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem and restoring the sacred vessels to it (Ez. 1), I also see God’s activity of DEI in desegregating our schools, the civil rights movement, the Americans with Disabilities Act, the abolishment of the military’s “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, and women’s equality. This vision of Imago DEI activity in the world reveals a glimmering hope of a kingdom/rule of heavenly peace.

 

Our witness to the diversity of the Imago Dei when speaking of human rights and the dignity of human life without regard to gender, disability, or race, stands against that of those who obfuscate God’s image of wholeness by opposing DEI policies and claiming the meaning as being division, exclusion, and indoctrination (Ron DeSantis). Currently, many try to limit God’s presence while pandering to the privilege of the few, for example, Wisconsin and other states are slashing the cost of DEI from their budgets.

 

It is always difficult to embrace new ideas, but this concept of DEI is not new. Scripture tells us that we should care for the widow, the orphan, the stranger, (Lev. 19:34, Deut. 24:17-18, Ps. 82:3, James 1:26), and the poor (Lev. 19:10, Lev. 23:22, Deut. 15:7-9). We are not to put stumbling blocks before the blind or revile the deaf (Lev. 19:14). We are to build communities where the lame and the maimed are honored and able to travel with us on the Holy Highway (Is. 35).

 

Indeed, our Diverse, Equitable, Inclusive God loves us enough to enter the diversity of our lives, justifies us by his grace, and includes us in his own atoning work. A much wiser person than I once said, “Either Jesus is the Messiah, and he died for all; or he wasn’t, and he died for nothing.”  My Lutheran tradition says, “Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, God intends that all should be saved.”

 

From Paul’s words we understand, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword? … Know in all these things that we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers nor things present nor things to come nor powers nor height nor depth nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, our Lord.” (Romans 8, NRSV)

 

So, I ask, can we delimit God’s undeserved love, freely given? Can we have life and have it abundantly without knowing the overflowing fullness of the Imago Dei? As faithful followers of Jesus, can the Imago Dei be witnessed in who we are today? Can people know that we are followers of Jesus by what we say and do?

 

It seemed like such an easy concession in 1970, but that tiny chink in our theologically, paternalistic armor has revealed the vulnerability of our chauvinistic lens through which we see a binary, male Zeus-like conqueror as our creator, redeemer, and sanctifier. In that vulnerable revelation of the Imago Dei, we see the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the queer and the straight, the variously able-bodied—we see us, and we are good. We are good enough for God to reveal Godself as one of us—truly human; valued enough to die and rise for us, that we should know eternal life, that we should hear God’s words of hope and promise anew—"given for you and all people for the forgiveness of sin.” Maybe God’s voice is more like it is in the movie Dogma rather than the voice in The Ten Commandments. Maybe God’s voice is heard in the cacophonic babel of our polyphonic world.

 

I wonder if anyone in 1970 imagined hearing God’s joyful laughter as we experience how much more God is. I wonder whether they, seeing God’s activity in the world then, could anticipate God’s activity of the Imago Dei today? And then, I wonder if we can appreciate God’s activity in our lives today?

 

Or are we afraid of what God is doing and therefore we try limiting what God is doing in our midst? Finally, who do we think we are, that we are able to limit the Imago Dei and God’s love is shown in the world?

Introduction

Greetings pensive ponderers of the profound and profane,

My name is Nicodemus. I am the oldest of a rather large family. Well, I was the first pinky. I happen to have a number of siblings, but I am the prime pup. My sibs claim that I got my name from Nickey duh mouse, hence Nicodemus, but I think that Mom and Dad had another agenda going. My brothers are Nicandros and Nicholas. My sisters are Nicole, Eunice, and Bernice. Can you see the Nike pattern? No, not the swishy shoes.

Growing up, Mom and Dad told us Greek mythology stories at bedtime, and Dad really had a fascination with Nike and victory. I think that he thought that by using Nike’s name for us kids that we would all know that we were always winners in his eyes. I could be wrong, but that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

To think of us as winners was important to me as a young pup, because Nicandros, Nicholas, and I are blind. It’s important for us and now for you to know that even though we were blind, we were still winners. This encouraged us to try all kinds of things that other mice were doing, and then again it encouraged us to do some really fun, and sometimes dangerous, stuff.

I remember the day we discovered that the farmer’s wife wore wooden sandals and made lots of noise when she walked across the kitchen floor. She was really easy to follow, and Nicandros and Nicholas convinced me that we should run after her as a sort of game. We assigned points for getting close to the sandals, between the sandals, and touching the sandals. How were we to know that she had an irrational phobia about mice?

Anyway, we set out across the kitchen floor, and then she stopped at the refrigerator for something or other. The door opened, cold air rushed out on us, and there was a pleasant smell of bacon, leftovers, bacon, vegetables, and, did I mention, BACON? I really love bacon—crispy but not burned, firm but not tough, salty and sweet, maple sugar cured is best.

Bacon, mmmm. Where was I? Oh yes. When we heard the farmer’s wife stop, we stopped too, and while I was deliberating on the attributes of bacon, she let loose a scream you could have heard in the milking parlor with all of the milkers going and the cows lowing, and the farmer and the workers talking with the radio on and the hose running. I mean, it was really loud and high-pitched. There was a scrambling and slipping of wooden sandals that went on, and then Nicholas squeaked, “Run for it!”

We all ran for the corner where the entrance to our nest was located, but with the noise and the clumping of those wooden sandals and the adrenaline, the room seemed to grow. I, at least, got a little disoriented and ran into the pipe that came down from the kitchen sink. Suddenly there was this pain. I realized that part of me had been left behind, as it were. Maybe because I was lightened, or maybe it was that extra shot of energy you get when you are scared past the point of being frozen stiff, but I ran like a shot into the corner of the cabinet and found a crevice just big enough for me to slip through. I was out of breath, and my heart was pounding, and my tail, oh, my tail, it hurt, but it wasn’t there anymore.

After a long time, I slipped back out of the crevice and found my way home. Nicholas and Nicandros had found their way home too. We were all safe, but we had all suffered the same indignity: she cut off our tails with a carving knife!

You probably have already noticed the bandage on my tail. I wear it to cover the attachment of my prosthetic tail. It helps to keep me in balance and reminds of the consequences of risky behavior and bad decisions.

Yes, it took some time before we found a way to get to the Sears store, but we finally got there and got fixed up. Why Sears you might ask? Well, Sears was a premier re-tailer at the time. Today, we’d probably go to Walmart, but Sears is what we had in those days.

Through several misadventures and some fortunate coincidences, I found my way to the Wisconsin School for the Visually Handicapped (WSVH), 1700 West State Street, Janesville, Wisconsin, now the Wisconsin School for the Blind and Visually Impaired (WSBVI), where I encountered blind—hmm, people. Among them was Peter Heide. I sort of bonded with him. Perhaps our partnership was precipitated by the fact that his name started with P, my favorite letter; it has such purpose.

We’ve had a long friendship, and we have walked the same circles—so-to-speak. Over the years we have traveled to Europe, Egypt, Israel, Canada, and Mexico, not to mention forty-five of the forty-eight contiguous states and my personal preference, Puerto Rico!

Along the way, Peter got his sight back, lost it again, got it back, lost it again, got it back, and lost it again. I keep telling him, if he would just put things back in the same place every time, he wouldn’t keep losing things, but did he listen to me?

Throughout the roller coaster of getting sight and losing it again, I have been the voice of encouragement that keeps reminding Peter of all the fun and interesting things one can do when you are blind. Being blind means that you can be a winner. After all, am I not Nicodemus? A winner for the people?

While Peter was riding his rollercoaster, he decided it was time to attend seminary. I too felt the pull, so I packed my portmanteau and went with him. There were some dark times, even with blind humor, but with my encouragement, theological insights, and of course, my literary genius, I managed to get him through graduation, supported him during his approval interviews, saw him through ordination, and then I settled into being the local Church Mouse. I even wrote a column in the church newsletters for a time.

Today, I spend most of my time thinking about the old days and trying to keep up with what’s going on. Sometimes I give Peter good advice on things to ponder and write on. Sometimes I let him put his name on stuff I’ve written. I hate to complain, but mice have a tough time being recognized. Well, unless you are Mickey (guess what, growing up, I had to call him Uncle Michael). And being a blind mouse besides, makes everything harder, so I just let it go when he takes the credit. Besides, after all these years, I sometimes can’t tell where my ideas end and his begin. We are, one could say, sympatico.

Anyways, this is my corner of the world, and I invite you to come and visit the wanderings and wonderings of the playful and portentous, not to sound too pretentious, things I think are important. Expect some parody, poignancy, and piety. I ask no pardon. After seminary and being Church Mouse for twenty-five years, biblical stories and theology inevitably will pop up too. Still, I hope you will join me for my paw-padding perambulations.

Your pal, Nicodemus

Editor, Theologian, Counsellor, Mouse

SHOW ME THE MONEY!

Suppose for a moment that the paper currency of the United States were recalled and reissued. The new bills were red, white, and blue, but there were no pictures of past presidents and ambassadors on them nor were there any numeric designations. Although everybody was issued a stack of currency whose value was equal to that turned in, the value of each bill received was indeterminate. Its worth would be whatever a merchant claimed it to be, and change received would then also be what the merchant claimed it to be.

Consider what might result while shopping one day. After choosing an item priced at $35, Merchant Joe claims the bill offered for payment is worth $50 and returns two bills. MJ says one is worth $5; the other $10. The next purchase is at Merchant Sally for $14 using the two bills from Merchant Joe. MS claims the two bills are only worth $2. Did Merchant Joe give you the wrong currency or is Merchant Sally changing the value of the red, white, and blue currency?

This is the dilemma many blind people in the U.S. face every day. Money is worth what the government says it is through a social contract that some pieces of “paper” are worth more than others, but the blind, independently, cannot know paper’s value and live in a world of dependence. For those who are blind, “knowing” the worth of paper currency is really given through the good will of sighted people around them (or using a time-consuming electronic process to check each bill). Think about it. If the money you carry in your wallet is only worth what others say it is and you had to depend on someone else always telling you what your money was worth, would you be satisfied?

The blindness community through the work of the American Council of the Blind (ACB) has been asking for “accessible and inclusive” currency since 1972. The process of making our money fully accessible and inclusive is not so difficult. More than a hundred other countries have found a way to make their currencies fully accessible. In 2006 and 2008, the courts ordered the U.S. Treasury to issue any newly designed paper currency in an accessible and inclusive format.

Fully accessible and inclusive currency is a minimal gesture of our government which says that all who live here have a right to full participation in the economy of our country. The new $20 bill is particularly important. It must neither be a concession to those who have asked to be recognized nor a crumb that falls from the master’s table. This new bill must recognize the value black women and blind people have in the United States and the positive contributions they have made here.

One hundred ten years to the day since Harriet Tubman’s death, ACB, Women on 20s, and others rallied in La Fayette Square (Wash., D.C.) Friday, March 10, 2023, to demand that the Treasury fulfill its promise to include accessible and inclusive markings for the blind and visually impaired people on paper currency and to include the picture of Tubman on the $20. She will be the first woman and the first black person portrayed on U.S. paper currency.

The planned rally led to a meeting of representatives from ACB and the Treasury, including the Bureau of Printing and Engraving, to discuss and prepare for accessible and inclusive currency. For the first time, five blind people were able to touch a $10 bill with the proposed braille feature. The meeting ended with a plan for the Treasury and ACB to work together to perfect the design for new paper money.

The first accessible $10 bill should roll off the presses in 2026. The Harriet Tubman $20 bill is scheduled for 2030. Other bills will be released in 2028 and 2032.

SHOW US THE MONEY! THE PROMISE HAS BEEN MADE. NOW LET’S FINISH THE JOB.

 

Show Me the Money: Marching Together for Accessible and Inclusive Currency - YouTube

The Talk (continues from You Are the Salt)

Matthew 5:21-48

In recent days I have heard black and brown fathers and mothers speaking of “The Talk”. This is not a about the birds and the bees. It is a cautionary conversation of how to remain safe while driving. The talk is about how to behave in a way that will preserve their lives. I am embarrassed, saddened, and ashamed every time I hear that this conversation needs to take place, even as I know it is necessary.

When one is confronted with oppressive power structures that can imprison, injure, and even kill you because you are somehow different, extra care and caution is required if one is to have any sense of safety in the world. In some way, at some time, all people who are disenfranchised get to hear “The Talk”. For them, extra vigilance and extra effort is part of being “accepted” in society generally. It is a kind of detente that will hopefully lead to a more hospitable welcome in the future.

In 1960, after I first lost my eyesight, Saphronie Peterson, my fourth-grade teacher, herself blind, told me that I was going to have to put in some extra effort if I was going to keep up with my class. And if I were going to compete with the sighted world, I would need to work even harder because, as a blind person, I would always have to be better than my sighted peers just to be treated as equal. Somehow average was never going to be the goal.

As a blind pastor, I can tell you that I learned Ms. Peterson was right—average is not enough. When I again lost my sight in 2010 while serving a call to a congregation, I learned they no longer thought that I could be their pastor. I was asked to resign, take disability, and be satisfied. I refused to take permanent disability. Therefore, after several years, my continued roster status was in question, and I needed to all but beg for an active call to ministry. I certainly did not feel like my call to serve had ended, but I needed administrative confidence in order to even get an interview. I had some professional advocates and a new bishop who was willing to listen, but it was an uphill road.

Even with the professional support, convincing congregations that I could be a spiritual leader, that I could preach, teach, and administer the sacraments effectively, was questioned. Each interview had its challenges. But in the process, I have been blessed by some amazing people and served several congregations along the way. Still average could never be the goal.

Wherever the standards are established, I have always tried to surpass that mark. I have not always succeeded, but I have always made the effort. For those of you who are not part of the white, able-bodied, standard setting community, you know what I am talking about. Life and physical well-being may not be the only threat in an unwelcoming world. And so, we all need “the talk”. It is there to keep this newly formed community safe.

To this newly formed community created on the mountainside, to this newly empowered group of people, Jesus says, "You can’t be this new community and just live up to the standards of the past. That could get you killed, on crosses/trees along the way, in courts of Rome, by refusing the demands of soldiers/police, by following leaders that do not bring life to the living body of Christ. You have heard it said, … but I say, you’re going to have to be more circumspect than that if you are going to be treated as equals. The world is going to expect more of you because you are my follower.

“No longer is refraining from murder, enough, even nothing more than hateful thought and demeaning language will bring judgment on you. So, find ways of being reconciled before going to court because you know the consequences of putting your future in the hands of the oppressor.

 “You have heard it said, do not commit adultery, but for you, my followers, you will need to be more careful. Establish healthy boundaries. Don’t leer. Don’t use language with intentional double meanings. And in the midst of this new community, if those with vision lead you astray, be prepared to remove them. If the working hands of the new community offend, be prepared to remove them. There is a standard of purity that the world expects, and, if this community is to thrive, it is necessary that there is a singleness of purpose that all will witness.

 “The standards for divorce are to be seriously considered. Divorce affects not only the one who is being divorced but the whole community. Still, let it be understood, God does not intend for us to live in abusive, non-lifegiving relationships. God intends for us to not just survive in the world, God gives us gifts to share intending that we all should thrive.

 “The standard of recompense that has served in the past will not satisfy. Stand firm; do not let those who would strike you down succeed. Remain in the game; let the world know that you will not go quietly. Show the people how determined you are; carry the soldiers load farther than he demands. Resistance is not done in a single act but through persistently standing up again and again until God’s beloved aspirational kingdom of heaven becomes a reality. There will be days when you will not believe that you have the energy to go on, but those who will follow you depend on your faith, courage, and steadfastness.

 “It is easy to love the people who love you, but it is necessary to love those who oppose you, who do not want you to succeed. Yes, love them, pray for them. Heap coals of goodness upon their heads and prove that you are able to continue the struggle in faith, with hope, seeking wholeness in Christ.”

 Learning to live in God’s communion which we know as the body of Christ is going to require work if we are to keep up with our class, so we need to hear “The Talk” in order to be safe. And if we are going to compete in the society of the standards makers, we are going to need to be better in order to be regarded as equal. It can be exhausting, but that is the place we need to claim in the public square if we are to have a voice and room to participate in the world. Remember, God loves you even when the world does not. Keep the faith. Know who you are and whose you are. Resist in peace. Speak truth to power. Pray for your oppressors.

You are the salt

Matthew 5:13-20

There are times, when changing the way we look at one part of scripture, permanently changes the way we look at the rest of the passage. This is the case for me this week.

If the community of Matt. 4:23-25 is the discipleship crowd who is gathered before Jesus as the hearers of this sermon—those who are blessed/honored/recognized (Matt. 5:1-12), then these words in Matt. 5:13-20 are directed to these same people, the ones whom Howard Thurman claims as the “people with their backs against the wall—the poor, the disinherited, and the dispossessed”. The assembly is a community of the socially dead who have been raised up into the Jesus community of resurrection living.

These people are claimed by Jesus as honored/blessed: “the SALT of the earth”—the commodity that is essential for life. Jesus directs this statement to a group of people who have been beat-down, disregarded as being nothing, less than human, a burden on society, the people who have nothing to give, those shunned, and those relegated to begging for their existence.

The next words are important for us to consider, “On the other hand, when salt has become foolish/useless, how can one cause the salt to return? It no longer has force and value. It is cast out and treated with utmost disdain by humanity.” (my translation) These words are being spoken to people who know what it is to be considered as nothing—to be cast aside, declared unclean, treated with disdain and now have been offered/given the opportunity to reclaim their saltiness—to be valued, essential for the health and wellness of the world.

How do those who have lost their personhood in the world in which they live regain their vitality and value? They become followers of Jesus! They enter into the new beloved resurrection community.

Jesus continues to tell these same people, “You are the light of the world. A city/people of importance established on the hill cannot be hidden. No one, after lighting a lamp, puts it under a bushel basket, but on a lamp stand, and it lights all the house. In the same way, let your light before humanity shine so that they may see your good works and give glory to your father in heaven.”

These people who have been newly blessed, with their saltiness restored in the Jesus community, are now claimed as the light of the world. They are the foundation stones of a new community, created on the hill, that cannot be hidden. (Remember that it is the Sermon on the Mount.) Those who have lived under the bushel basket for so long, hidden away from the world, Jesus calls to the lamp stand, to give light to the whole house of Israel, those who wrestle with God. In the goodness of God’s own creation, these people are also called to let their light shine, let their valued place in the kingdom of heaven be witnessed by others so they too might know the glory of their father in heaven.

There will always be those who want the salt to lose its saltiness, who will always want to put the bushel basket over the light, but in this new Jesus community where those who have their backs against the wall are recognized as the new way forward, let us claim and listen to those who believe that Black Lives Matter, that people living with disabilities matter, that 2SLGBTQQIA+ people matter, and that the entire BIPOC communities matter. They are the light for today who can guide our feet into the new paths of righteousness and justice. Jesus makes it clear that Roman power has had it sway for much too long.

Yet let us not forget that Jesus has not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. Torah community created so many years before, with its promise of harmonious living, still holds true. God’s law of love and concern continues, but, in these verses, we are reminded that the plan for beloved harmonious communities is for all people, and we are commissioned to model that for the world.

When we recognize that we are all created in God’s image, that there is no one idealized body but the collective of all of us, then God’s personhood is perfectly revealed, then all of us have been given a share in God’s good creation. Because we all have gifts to bring to the table for the good work that needs to be done, we all can hear these words and shine.

“You are the salt of the earth! You are the light of the world!” Do not let the world trample you, beat you down, make you feel useless. Cast off those things that prevent you from shining. Claim your place in God’s good creation. Break the yoke of oppression and enter the kingdom of heaven—of freedom and the possibility of resurrection living—not with the violence received but as the peacemakers of the world.

I continue to hear Tyre Nichols’ mom, RowVaughn Wells, speak of prayer and peaceful protest. “How honored the peacemakers, they will be called the children of God.”

Continuing Thoughts on Luke -- Luke 21

Three years ago, I started writing my First Thoughts about the texts for the coming Sunday of Year C. They weren’t always complete thoughts; and they usually wouldn’t show up in the sermon; they were simply “first thoughts”.

Luke 21

Okay, I know that I am dating myself with this, but, with the first Sunday of Advent upon us, I can’t help but think of the old Roger Miller song, If You Want Me To, which begins “Thunder rollin', lightnin' flashin', / But right through the middle of it I go dashin'.”

As we celebrate our liturgical new year, we will hear variations on the theme of what appears to be earth-ending events: signs in the sky and tsunamis with great distress among the nations. This distress will create great fear, to the point of fainting or withdrawing from the concerns of the world.

There are those who will point to these words and say, “The world is coming to an end.”, but every year, whether it’s the words of Matthew, Mark, or Luke, the gospels agree that, on this first Sunday of Advent, it is not the end of the world, but the beginning of something new.

This year we hear Luke go so far as to say, “When these things begin to happen, stand up and raise your heads because your redemption is drawing near.” (NRSV) Dash into the storm. In the midst of the fearmongering that is so prevalent in our world today, Luke tells us that this is not the time to turtle up. This is not the time to withdraw from the world. This is the time to take a posture of defiance: Stand up and be counted—Dash into the storm.

There is a tendency, in this time of chaos and confusion, to say, “Jesus is coming. Look busy.” But Luke’s Gospel in particular calls us to bear witness to who this Jesus is.

In the First Testament, the first command to the prophets is to stand up. Stand up in the gates of the city (the place of judgment). Stand up and go! Jonah is told to go to the city of Nineveh, the land of his enemies. Elijah is told to go to Zarephath, a Canaanite town. In many other ways, the prophets are told to go to God’s people to tell them of God’s judgment and constancy—Dash into the storm.

In these texts we are told that the world is indeed a dangerous and scary place, but this does not mean that we are given the privilege of being able to ignore the violence and pain of our world. We are told to take a stand, lift our heads, and confront the powers of the world—Dash into the storm.

In the Baptism service, we publicly renounce the devil and the powers that defy God. We renounce the powers of the world that rebel against God. We renounce the powers that seduce and draw us away from God. In other words, we stand in defiance of those things that breed fear. We stand in defiance of the hate-mongering. We stand in defiance of those who do not recognize and lift up the value of all of God’s people. We defy the powers and structures that perpetuate prejudice and discrimination. We dash into the storm.

Yes, we even denounce racist parades that want to continue celebrating Hitler’s antisemitic genocidal regime making the Nazi salute because to say nothing means that we tacitly support the slaughter of 6,000,000 Jewish men, women, and children, and the more than 5,000,000 others whom the Third Reich thought to be undesirables. To say nothing means that we do not regret the chattel slavery and lynchings within the United States. To say nothing means that we do not regret the genocidal practices that continue to be perpetrated on our First Nation peoples. To say nothing means that we support telling those who come to our borders for asylum and a “better way of life”, “You need not apply”. To say nothing means that we believe that the LGBTQIA+ community is an abomination. To say nothing means that we believe that voting rights are not equal and that the disabled, Black, Latino, Native American, and others should not have an equal voice in our political future. To say nothing means we take shelter and hide from the storm. Take heed, there are signs along God’s Way to direct and lead us.

At Christmas, we will hear and read that Jesus is first recognized by the lowliest of his world, the shepherds. Later we will watch the child challenge the priest and teachers of his time concerning God’s relationship with creation. We will witness Jesus’ family fleeing to another country for asylum. We will bear witness to and celebrate Jesus’ walking among the most undesirable of his time. We will witness all these events with particular compassion, and yet, in many cases we will remain silent about events today. We will continue to participate in politics and institutions of our day that work to keep the people Jesus lived with and loved identified as undesirable and unfit to be our neighbors.

In this Advent season, the Church focusses on Christ’s coming again in the clouds with glory ready for the judgment of the nations. But most of us want to say, “Wait! Not yet.” adding, “Give [Christ’s] peace a chance.” So, in this time of waiting for Christ’s coming again, we prepare to tell the story of God’s love for the world and pray for a more loving outcome in world affairs. In Christ there is hope, and that hope is for the world.

When the fig tree and the other trees put forth their leaves, know that summer is near, and know also that the kingdom of God is as real as those leaves that signify life itself. Therefore, let us be the rock in the middle of the stream. Let us look up to where our hope and help comes from. Let us stand in the gap proclaiming God’s forgiveness and mercy for all people. Let us go to those places of the world where Christ is calling us, singing, “Thunder rollin', lightnin' flashin', / But right through the middle of it I go dashin'. Goes to show how far I'll go for you / If you want me to.” (Roger Miller)

 

Bartimaeus

Due to computer illness this week, Rome Improvement is not available and this short story is only a first draft. Keep watching; as time is available, I will be posting finish copy.

It seems like such a longtime ago and yet, it also seems like yesterday. Some friends brought me to an itinerant rabbi who was making some noise around Bethsaida. Everybody was saying to me, “Come meet Jesus.” People said that he could restore my sight. I said, “How can he restore something I never had?” They chided me saying, “You know what we mean. He is healing everyone else, why shouldn’t he heal you too?”

 

I told them that I thought that sight was a good thing to have in this world, but I had been doing just fine, “Thank you very much,” and I didn’t want to be the latest “miracle child” to be fawned over and then forgotten. But they were insistent, and, after a few days of persistent begging, I succumbed to their pleas and went with them to meet the rabbi.

 

Once we got to the place where this rabbi, Jesus, was teaching, I stood around and listened to him talk. He had a nice voice. He was easy to listen to, and he said some things that really made me think. He said that we needed to think about the world differently, that we should change the way we were living with one another, that this world of some having everything and others having little, or nothing, was not the way that God intended us to live. He said that although we didn’t fully appreciate it, the kingdom of God was not something that we had to wait for but that the kingdom of God was actively engaged right now. He said that he had come to speak the words of good news. He said, when we were able to live in a world where all were included, that the blind would see, the deaf would hear, the lame and the maimed would move around with the rest of us. He said we needed to think of ourselves as being one, as God is one, because we are all created in the image of God.

 

That upset a few people. They shouted at him, “We are the Chosen People—favored of the One who led us through the wilderness. We are the ones who have been given the Promised Land that has been restored to us by God’s work in Cyrus. We are the ones who are loved by the Lord. The rest of the world doesn’t get it and Is damned as far as I am concerned.”

 

There was a lot of cheering and some booing along the way, but eventually people stopped trying to trip the rabbi up with their hypothetical posturing that let them make themselves sound important. One guy stood up and said, “Suppose now, just suppose, that a man married a woman and then he died without any children, and just suppose, his brother married her, as he should, and he died and there still wasn’t a child. And suppose then the next younger brother married her, and he died, and there still wasn’t a child. And on and on it went until the woman had married the seven brothers of the family. Finally, the seventh son died, and the woman died, and there still weren’t any children. Just suppose for a minute, whose wife will she be in the afterlife since all seven brothers married her?”

 

We had all heard the story of blind Tobit and how Tobit’s son Tobias marries Sarah, who has been married to six men before, and how each of them died on their wedding night because the evil Asmodeus had fallen in love with Sarah and didn’t want to have anyone else be with her, and how Asmodeus was found out and banished, and how Tobit got his sight back, and everyone lived happily ever after. So, everyone laughed when the rabbi asked, “Is your name Asmodeus or Tobias?”

 

It was clever of the rabbi to put that moment of levity in the conversation because it really got the people on his side. When he told everyone that marriage was something that we needed in order to keep order in our world but that in heaven our relationship with Godself was the relationship that mattered. Heaven was the place where we could truly live out the first commandment. In heaven, we neither married nor worried about worldly marriages. We all would experience the oneness of God and that would be enough. People started arguing with one another and started drifting away.

 

It was then that my friends took me up to have Jesus lay his hands on me in order for me to see. There was a moment when I thought that he was just going to tell all of us to go home and quit bothering him. Really, that was what I was hoping for, but then, he took me by the hand and led me away from the others. When we had gone a fair distance, Jesus told me to look at him, and then he spit in my eyes. He spit in my eyes! I was thinking, “Rude, dude.”

 

He asked if I could see anything and then, I had the most amazing vision. I saw people, or I think they were people, but they walked around with their arms outstretched like trees. It was like a dance. It was like a prayer, and, when the people came together, with their branches intermingled, it was like a choir of peace. I said, “I see people. They look like trees walking around.” Then he laid his hands on me and held my head in his hands and shared his vision with me. I saw God’s plan for the world from the distant future all the way back to the dawn of everything. I saw the world possibilities far beyond the cross all the way back to the Garden of Eden when God was speaking with Adam and Eve. God looked sort of like Jesus. It was…amazing. It was way beyond amazing, but I don’t know what that might be. And then Jesus told me to go home and not even to go into the village.

 

After that vision of the world, home no longer seemed enough. So, I started wandering the roads. People would stop and ask if they could help, and I traveled with them. When we got to a village, I had them take me to the village gate, or just outside the marketplace, and I would beg there for a while. I would tell the people of my vision, but since I was still blind, people usually walked away, and I was left talking to emptiness. When they stayed long enough to hear my story, they laughed at me. “No one can see to the end or the dawn of everything, not even a blind seer can see that far. Only God has that kind of vision. People, like trees, lumbering around? Please, tell us another.” After a few days of that, people would tell me to move on since I had no relatives to care for me and I would find my way to another town.

 

Each place I went, I listened to hear if Jesus was going to be in the area, but no one knew where he had gone. Some said that he had gone up north into the Roman cities; others said he was out in the countryside teaching. There were stories of people being raised up from their sick beds; children who were all but dead, knowing good health and inclusion; a man who was deaf who was able to understand the people around him and speak with them; and a time when thousands were fed. As time went on, I decided that the vision was just that—a dream, a hallucination, a trick of the mind. I sought out the comfort of other beggars and started building relationships with them.

 

I met Abner one day, his body was quite twisted. He could hardly walk. We became fast friends almost immediately. He listened to my vision story and though he didn’t really believe it, he thought that the idea of the story was nice, even desirable. I volunteered to carry him on my back, and he told me where to go. He introduced me to many of the other beggars and at night we gathered in the house provided for the “unfortunates”, our little Bethany. There I learned that we weren’t supposed to beg inside the city and those who were caught would be treated badly, but outside the city, it was safe. Many travelers entering or leaving the city often stopped to toss a coin or two our way, even soldiers tossed a broken quadrans, although they oftentimes intentionally threw them beyond us just to see us scramble for the crumbs of society. .

 

Finally, one day, when I was sitting with the other beggars outside of Jericho, with my cloak laying over my lap to catch any coin tossed my direction, a crowd of people came down the road. When I asked what the commotion was about, people said the rabbi, Jesus, was coming with his disciples on his way to Jerusalem. I knew then, if I was ever going to have the vision again, that I would need to do something right then. Despite the danger of bringing Roman attention to what was happening, and the political implications, I called out claiming Jesus for who I was positive he was—the one whom I would always pledge my loyalty, beyond Herod and certainly above Tiberius. As the volume of the crowd increased, I started shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me! Jesus, teacher, Son of David  have mercy on me!”

 

Some of the people in the crowd kicked at us and told us to get out of the way, but I refused to move. Instead I shouted more loudly. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me! Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And when I had all but given up, the crowd stopped. There was this eerie silence and then I heard his voice again. “Bring him to me.” Then the crowd grabbed at me and said, “Quick. The Master is calling for you. Why do you continue to sit there like a marker stone along the  road?”

 

I threw off my cloak, not caring about coins I might receive from the crowd and worked my way toward Jesus’ voice. People moved out of my way and pushed me toward him and then I felt his hand on my shoulder  and I stopped. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

 

“Lord,” I said, “Let me see again. Let me see what I saw before. Let me have the vision of the trees and the dance and the choir of peace. Lord, please, I long to know that the vision was not a dream but a reality of hope. I beg of you, let me see and know the joy of that vision again.”

Jesus reached out and put his hands on me. He took my hands and raised them up into the posture of prayer and he said, “Your faith has made you whole.” And immediately I saw the vision again. I saw people, like trees walking around, like trees dancing with joy and singing songs of praise. I saw people gathering together with their arms spread out in prayer and when the choir of peace gathered I saw the arms of the people making Xs, making crosses, building communities where all could eat and drink with enough to give away. And the vision continued to the end of everything. It was amazing. Ten I joined the crowd and followed him on the way.

ROME IMPROVEMENT October 17, 2021

MORE POWER!  MORE GLORY!!  MORE SPIRIT!!!

SURVEYING THE SITE—Mark 10:32-45

As we hear the words of the third prophetic announcement of Jesus’ trial, shaming, death and resurrection, we need to hold the last lines of last week’s text in our heads—those who give away for Christ’s sake and for the Good News will receive an abundance including fields with persecutions, for many who will be first/great/honored will be last/lowest/dishonored and those who might be last will be first. This subversive language, that is, this language of turning things upside-down, lays the groundwork for Jesus’ prophetic words and his encounter with James and John. Indeed, it sets the stage for Jesus saying, “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life, a ransom for many.”

READING THE BLUEPRINT

They were on the way going up into Jerusalem; and leading them was Jesus; and [disciples] were amazed and those following were afraid. And having taken again the twelve, [Jesus] began to say to them the things being that were about to befall concomitantly to him. Behold, in order that we go up into Jerusalem and the son of man will be given over to the high priests and the scribes, and they will judge against him to die (bring a verdict of death); and they will give him over to the nations; and they will mock him and spit on him and scourge him and kill him and after three days he will rise.

 

And coming before him, James and John, the sons of Zebedee, are saying to [Jesus], “Teacher, we want that what we might ask you would do to us.”

 

[Jesus] said to them, ““What you want me do to you?”

They said to him, “Give us in order that one might sit out of your right (be your right arm) and one out of left (be your left arm) in the glory of you.”

But Jesus says to them, “You know not what you ask. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink or to be baptized with the baptism which I am baptized?”

And they said to him, “We are able.”

But Jesus said to them “The cup which I drink, you will drink, and the baptism which I am baptized, you will be baptized, but to sit out of the right of me or out of the left is not mine to give but to whom it has been prepared. And having heard, the ten began to agonize over James and John.

And having called toward them, Jesus says to them, “You know that the ones, thinking to rule the nations, lord it over them, and the great ones of them exercise authority against them. This is not for you. But who might want to be great in you will be your servant, and who in you might want to be first in you will be slave of all for the son of man came not to be served, but to serve and to give the true life of him as ransom/release/liberated, in place of [the] many.

ROUGHING IN THE HOUSE

Again, as we hear the prophecy of Jesus’ death and resurrection, we have to choose whether we are reading this text on the way to the cross and empty tomb or from the cross and empty tomb. If it is spoken on the way to the cross, then it foretells what is to come, but, if it is from the empty tomb, it speaks of the reality we all know—those fields with suffering and persecution. These words explain the presence of the resurrected Christ active in the world.

In the same way, if the conversation between Jesus and James/John is about going to the cross, then their grab for power and glory looks like the authoritarian world in which they live, and the positions of honor appear to be the bandits on either side of Jesus at the crucifixion. But, if the conversation takes place in the resurrection world, the statements of drinking the cup and baptisms look more like the reality of Mark’s time and the glory looks more like the establishment of the church. As such, maybe Peter and Paul take those places of honor.

It is more likely, however, in a communitarian reading, that those places are held for all who follow Jesus on the way. As such, the hierarchical vision of the church is rejected. Dying to rise leads to Servant Leadership and is lifted up in the subversive message of serving instead of being served, of communal following rather than hierarchical leadership.

This subversive language claims the places of right and left as belonging to those who follow afterwards—us. Our rightful place is as the right and left arms of Christ. The question is, are we

• ·            exercising the authority that has been given to us?
• ·            being the servant-leader followers Jesus models for us?
• ·            bringing wholeness to the world around us or division?
• ·            challenging the oppressive powers of the world or supporting them?

PUTTING UP THE WALLS

The very subversiveness of the Gospel of Mark is the reason to read it as a post-resurrection narrative. If we read this Gospel as a journey to the cross with an empty tomb at the end, resurrection has this promise of some perfected, but uncertain future, ouranic (of the sky) theocracy. As such, world powers are not concerned about the Christian message as Christianity looks like so many other religions.

But, when we read the Gospel of Mark as a post-resurrection narrative, we witness the bodily resurrected Jesus, the Son of God, actively involving himself in the events of our world. We encounter God’s presence poking his nose into the injustices of the world and being indignant with our behavior. We have to acknowledge that resurrection-living is involved and engaged right now, and that following Jesus is not a passive thing. It involves repentance and doing something to change the circumstances of our lives and the lives of our neighbor. This is dangerous stuff because it gives license to question authority and challenges the status quo.

This active image of God’s immanence among us presents God actively bringing wholeness to a broken world. It is engaged in our midst and is less about curing through “sozo” and much more about salvific wholeness experienced through “sozo”. In this context, “sozo” takes on the multivalent qualities of shalom which is both abstractly concerned with societal peace and incarnational in hospitality and relationship.

This is the Jesus we meet in the Galilee of Mark’s Gospel, the one who brings “sozo” wholeness when he declares the leper to be clean, when the man with the withered hand is acceptable in the synagogue, when he, Jesus, confronts the power of Rome while listening to the Gerasene man who lived among the tombs, when he raises Jairus’ daughter from her death bed, when he makes clean the woman with the hemorrhage, when he feeds the five and four thousand, when he makes space for the deaf to hear God in the silence of the world, when the blind man can see the kingdom vision of people like trees walking around.

Each of these events is less about cure than it is about restoring the disenfranchised to the communities they should be part of in the first place. The true healing and salvific wholeness of “sozo” is for society rather than the individual. This is the subversive message of Mark. It shows how the kingdom of God is engaged, now!

And, if James and John cannot be the right and left arms of Jesus when he comes into his glory because it is for those for whom it has been reserved, then we need to look around. We are not to look backward to see the bandits at the cross, but forward to see ourselves and those places of loving care and advocacy that emanate from us.

This place of honor, to be present in Christ as Christ is present in us, speaks of the incarnational, resurrected body of Christ that continues to walk in the Galilees of our lives today. Yes, Jesus the Christ continues to be active in our world. We can witness the presence of Christ wherever there is need, wherever the oppressed are named, wherever abusive governance is seen. Christ is present among those fighting abuse and oppression, alongside the disabled and the chronically ill, at the bedsides of the dying, and in the midst of those who recognize everyone has gifts to bring to the table where we all are fed finding ways to advocate for the inclusion of all people.

These words and deeds of Christ are not done for some future idyllic, elysian utopia. They are done with love for us here today. If we are going to speak of Jesus as being the incarnate Word of God and that the resurrected body of Christ is the incarnational Word for the world, and we do not see ourselves as being part of that body, as being in his right or left side, then neither can we embrace the glory of his coming among us where we follow Jesus on the Way.

HANGING THE TRIM

We continue to come asking Jesus for favors. Many appear to be ridiculous after the fact, but Jesus continues to be patient with us, asking, “What would you have me do to you?” Then when our request is made, he tells us that our deepest wishes will be done to us. Through the cups we drink, the symbol of our covenantal relationship that promises forgiveness of sin, and the baptisms we receive which continue to hold us in that relationship of loving hope forever, we come to understand and value the reality of life.

ROME IMPROVEMENT 10/10/2021

MORE POWER!  MORE GLORY!!  MORE SPIRIT!!!

SURVEYING THE SITE—Mark 10:17-31

Ever since the blind man saw “people, like trees walking around” and “everything from the very far away to the dawn of time” (Mark 8:22-30, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  9/5/2021), we have been presented with images of God’s kingdom community engaged in learning “what this rising from the dead might mean” (Mark 9:2-10, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  2/14/2021). We have been given the comparison between healthy living in the body of Christ and the unhealthy social powers that would destroy that relationship of hope (Mark 9:38-50, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  9/26/2021); we have been shown the kingdom of God in the questioning child (Mark 9:30-37, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  9/19/2021 and Mark 10:1-16, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  10/3/2021), in the “disabled” body of Christ (Mark 9:38-50, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  9/26/2021), the broken relationship of communal turning away from God’s mercy/divorce (Mark 10:1-16, see ROME IMPROVEMENT  10/3/2021); and now this week we see Jesus’ agape/love for the communitarian vision of egalitarian equity.

READING THE BLUEPRINT

And as [Jesus] was going out on the way, one having run toward him and having fallen on knees before him, was interrogating [Jesus]. “Good teacher, what might I do in order that life eternal I might inherit?”

But Jesus said to him, “Why me you speak good? No one is good except one—God. The commands you know: not you might murder, not you might commit adultery, not you might thieve, not you might testify/bear witness falsely, not you might defraud, honor your father and your mother.”

The one but said to [Jesus], “These all I have guarded from my newness.”

But Jesus having seen into him, agapeed/loved him and said to him, “You have one disability. Go! As much as you have, sell and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Come! Follow me!”

Having become gloomy on the word, the one went off grieving for he was having many acquisitions.

And having seen around, Jesus says to his disciples, “How difficult the ones having wealth will have going into the kingdom of God.”

 The disciples were amazed at the words of [Jesus]. Jesus, again answering them says to them, “Children, how difficult it is to go into the kingdom of God. It is easier work for a camel through the needle hole to go than wealthy to go into the kingdom of God.”

And they were totally gobsmacked, saying to themselves, “[Given that], who can be saved/rescued/made whole?”

Having seen into them, Jesus says, “With humankind? [Can’t happen.] Impossible. But not with God. For All power/possibilities are with God.

Then Peter began to speak to [Jesus], “Look here, we have sent off everything and have followed you.”

Jesus was saying, “Truly I say to you, no one there is who sent off house, or brothers, or sisters, or mother, or father, or children, or fields, on account of me and on account of the good news who will not receive 100 times now in the time of God: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and fields amid persecutions and into the coming ages, the life eternal. But many will be first ones, last ones. And last ones, first ones.

ROUGHING IN THE HOUSE

How wealthy is this man who falls on his knees before Jesus? Is he “Jeff Bezos/Warren Buffet” rich? Or is he “just” a millionaire? Or maybe he is governor-rich, not owning his own riches, but responsible for managing the wealth and health of the people he governs?

As we continue on the Way with Jesus, with the communitarian vision of servant leadership, this story takes on greater meaning when we consider it from the standpoint of living in the “engaged” resurrection world. From the moment when the man calls Jesus “good teacher” to when Jesus states the “first to last and the last to first”, this passage speaks of the aspirational vision the blind man saw back in chapter 8.

Although, in pre-crucifixion thinking, readers/hearers of the story could say, “Of course. Isn’t it ironic that he was so close but didn’t know it?”, the goodness of the teacher, when seen through the lens of the resurrected Christ, is an acknowledgement of Jesus’ true identity. Jesus’ response, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except the One, God,” is less reproof and more a request for clarification. It evokes the unrecorded response, from the man, the onlookers, and us, “Well, yeah, that’s who you are.”

When the rich man asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”, Jesus reviews the commandments, skipping the first three because the man has already acknowledged them in his words and actions. The rich man’s reaction to Jesus’ response indicates his confusion within the catechetical process as he attempts to reconcile what he has long been taught with a post-resurrection understanding.

Jesus places him in the metanoia (repentance) world of rethinking the “how” of living to the “why” of living. It changes what we do from “in order to inherit eternal life” to “because we have already inherited eternal life”.

In this context, we translate the rich man’s guarding of the commandments from his “newness of life” not as from his “youth”, but from his baptism. When baptized in the post-resurrection, we are adopted into the communitarian-resurrection family of God, affirming our justified and egalitarian relationship with God and one another.

The instruction, “as much as you have, sell and give to the poor,” is not necessarily a great liquidation sale leading to impoverishment. In a communitarian post-resurrection reading, this text speaks of surrendering power and status in order for equity to stand as a desired goal. It is the relationship Adam and Eve had with God in the Garden. The proper hierarchy of the world places God at the top, not us.

Some among us are particularly gifted by God to be leaders. Without them, our social structures would crumble, and chaos would ensue. With the acquisition of power, these leaders continue to stumble forward doing the best they can. It is no more possible for humankind to create a fully equitable government than it is for humankind to “do” anything to save themselves. As salvation is “done” for us by God, in the person of Jesus, through the cross and resurrection, so too, a truly equitable society can only be done through Godself.  Only then can the first be last and the last first.

PUTTING UP THE WALLS

The story is told of a Cheyenne chief who, on a buffalo hunt, saw his only son thrown from his horse. When the buffalo had passed and the hunt was over, many buffalo had been killed and the winter food supply was plentiful, but there was no evidence of the chief’s son. The people found some things of the son—a bow, a few broken arrows, his medicine bag, a moccasin, his lance sticking out the side of a cow—but nothing of the son himself. His body had been trampled into the ground leaving nothing to offer up to the God.

As the noise surrounding the butchering ended, as the meat was being taken to the village, each person knew that though the hunt had been successful, the feast to follow would be a somber affair. Because of the tragedy, the people left the one cow alone not knowing what to do while the chief grieved the loss of his son.

Finally, the only people left at the hunting site were the chief and three women waiting to learn the chief’s wishes about the dead cow. While the chief was saying that he thought the last cow should remain as a gift to the wolves because the cow was responsible for the son’s death, they heard a noise from the ground. They were filled with fear and trembling when they heard the voice of the chief’s son crying out to them. The chief moved forward to better hear what his son was saying and then began to laugh. The chief had heard, “Is anybody out there? Can someone pull this buffalo off me?” With shouts of joy and laughter, the chief and the women quickly began butchering the cow. They found the chief’s son relatively undamaged underneath.

That night, after giving the meat from the holy buffalo to the widows and the elderly, as a celebration of his son’s life and the gift that God had given him in preserving his son’s life, the chief began to give away everything he owned. He gave away all his horses, all the meat his wife had prepared for the winter and the pots his wife cooked with, his weapons, the buffalo robes in his teepee, even his teepee. Finally, he gave away the clothes he was wearing. All of his wealth and cherished possessions were gone.

The people said to one another, “Our chief is the wealthiest man in the world. Look at all he has given to us. Look how he sits there by the fire. With his wealth and his generosity, he has made all of us rich too.”

Later, one of the people came to the chief with a gift. “Take this shirt, my chief. It is too big for me, and it will protect you from the cold.” Another came and said, “These leggings are too long for me. Please take them so that your legs can be protected.” Still another came offering a pair of moccasins, “I have more moccasins than I can wear. Please accept these inferior moccasins to wear until you can find better.” A blanket was presented. A back rest appeared to give him ease. And so, the evening went until all that the chief had given away had been restored to him.

And then, the whole village began the celebration. The drummers drummed. There were songs of thanks for the Chief’s son, the abundance of the world, and the protection of the buffalo. There was a new dance that brought delight in the people, a dance that was remembered for many years to come celebrating the day when the chief’s son had died and how the great buffalo returned him to his father when all had lost hope. They ate, sang songs, and danced, celebrating the life given back to them and the abundance of the food they had for that winter. They ate and sang and danced celebrating that they were the wealthiest people in the world. Everyone had enough, and enough to give away.

HANGING THE TRIM

As we, with the rich man, consider the immensity of all we have, let us hold what we have loosely enough that all might share the abundance of our riches.

Happy Indigenous People’s Day this coming week.