“How good and pleasant it is, when brethren live together in unity.” So begins one of the shortest psalms in the psalter. So many of the psalms call for vengeance on the psalmist’s enemies, or beg for God’s saving help. In contrast, this brief psalm celebrates the joys of unity within a family and ends with promises of blessing and “life for evermore.”
Today we said this psalm in response to our reading from the book of Acts. Remember that we are still celebrating Easter. Throughout Easter tide we hear of the impact of the resurrection on various people and communities. Our readings from the book of Acts in Easter tide give us a sense of how the earliest followers of Jesus experienced – or how tradition suggested they experienced – the power of the resurrection. The earliest followers of Jesus were a motley crew, to say the least. They included Galileans and Judeans, diaspora Jews of various backgrounds and political beliefs, gentiles, men and women, slaves and freeborn, even some Roman citizens. The Acts account tells us that, through the power of Jesus’ resurrection, these earliest communities were able to overcome their ethnic and social differences and generously share their resources with each other.
While we as followers of Jesus read Psalm 133 in response to the story of the earliest followers of the Way, the longing for unity among people is a recurring theme in the Hebrew Scriptures. We too can learn something from taking a closer look at this psalm. The psalm is a pilgrimage psalm, one of a group called “songs of ascent,” that include psalms 120 through 134. If you read them all together, you discover that they are all about making a pilgrimage “up to” the temple on the heights of Jerusalem. In this psalm, the psalmist uses two images of extravagant blessing to convey the delight and wonder of harmony among people. The first image is that of anointing, anointing so rich and abundant that the oil flows over Aaron’s head and through his long hair. Now as twenty first-century Americans, who live in a relatively moist climate, we don’t think much about anointing – unless you’re into massage. However, in the dry climate of ancient Israel, anointing with oil was both a necessity and a deep pleasure, especially for someone exposed to the dry heat and dust of a walk to Jerusalem. While anointing was especially associated with kings and priests, everyone in the ancient world could experience its pleasures and knew how necessary it was to life.
The second image of extravagant abundance is that of the dew of Hermon. Now Mt. Hermon is in the north of Israel, almost on the border with Lebanon, while Mt. Zion overlooks Jerusalem in the south. Here, the psalmist declares, the dew is so abundant that it can reach all the way from one mountain to the other. Again, as twenty first-century Americans, who have recently experienced too much natural moisture, we don’t think much about dew – unless perhaps you like to garden or mow the lawn in the morning. However, in ancient Israel, during the dry months of the year, dew was an important source of moisture. In fact, dew is praised in other places in the Hebrew Scriptures as a source of God’s blessings.
So the psalmist has used two extravagant images to remind us that harmony among people, wherever it is found, whether in extended families or in nations, is a wonderful blessing. Indeed, wherever harmony is found, it is life giving and – more important – God’s ultimate will for us. As Christians we claim that Jesus has reconciled human differences and given us, as members of his Body, a foretaste of what human harmony might look like. Indeed, we claim that, whenever we partake of the Eucharist, we are united not only with Christ, but also with each other.
However, as blessed as it is, actually living together in unity is hard work. We are all distinct individuals, and we live in a culture that not only emphasizes our distinctiveness but also often discourages cooperation and compromise. So how do we “live together in unity,” how do we acknowledge our diversity yet strive for unity? Is it beyond us? Spouses, partners, and family members must acknowledge each other’s talents and gaps and find ways to both support each other and receive support from each other. Actually, wherever people partner with each other, in schools, in hospitals, in offices, in parishes, we must seek common ground without snuffing out individual talents and skills. Our elected representatives must somehow put their partisan differences behind them and seek common ground on the issues facing our towns, states, and nations. Faith communities too, whether different Christian denominations or different religious communities, must acknowledge that no one has God in their pockets. They must find their shared ideals and goals without disparaging the practices or ideals of the other community.
All necessary and all very hard work. Years of talks led to the Good Friday accords in 1994 in Northern Ireland. Though the six counties have a functioning political process, much work still needs to be done to bring Protestants and Catholics together on the ground – in neighborhoods, schools, churches, and clubs. As we look at the Middle East, many of us long desperately for peace, as we try to be pro-Israeli, pro-Palestinian, and pro-Christian, all at the same time. At this very moment, we hold our breaths and wonder if fifty years of enmity between the U.S. and Cuba will finally come to an end. Will a nuclear treaty with Iran produce the desired assurances and security? We can only pray so.
Yet, sometimes the hard work of striving for unity and harmony among diverse people has actually borne fruit. In South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission initiated a process that helped undo the wounds of Apartheid and bring unity to one of the most ethnically divided countries in the world. Commission chair Archbishop Desmond Tutu acknowledged how difficult, yet how essential, the hard work of confession and forgiveness was for bringing in a unified future. He said, “To pursue the path of healing for our nation, we need to remember what we have endured. But we must not simply pass on the violence of that experience through the pursuit of punishment. We seek … restorative justice…. There is no point exacting vengeance now, knowing that it will be the cause for future vengeance by the offspring of those we punish.” Clearly, as we strive for unity, we must also look ahead to the consequences of our actions.
Closer to home is the work of Fr. Greg Boyle. A native of Los Angeles, Fr. Greg entered the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) in 1972 and was ordained a priest in 1984. After teaching English for a few years, Fr. Greg was assigned to the parish of the Mission Dolores, a neighborhood in L.A. rife with gang warfare. At first, he believed that he could help broker peace among the gangs by bringing gang leaders together and helping to negotiate cease-fires among them. However, he gradually began to realize that what drew boys to gangs was that their prior life experiences had given them little reason to believe that they could change their lives for the better. Moreover, many had returned to the neighborhood after being incarcerated, finding that no legitimate business would hire them. Without abandoning his peace-making, Fr. Greg led efforts to establish an elementary school and daycare center in the neighborhood. Then he realized that what the gang members needed most of all were jobs. In 1992, as a response to the civil unrest in Los Angeles, Fr. Greg launched his first business, Homeboy Bakery. Its mission was to create an environment that provided training, work experience, and above all, the opportunity for rival gang members to work side by side. The success of the bakery laid the groundwork for additional businesses. Today Homeboy Industries’ nonprofit economic development enterprises include Homeboy Bakery, Homeboy Silkscreen, Homeboy/Homegirl Merchandise, and Homegirl Café.
Since 1992, thousands of young people have left their gang affiliations behind and experienced the mutual respect that comes from sharing tasks and challenges with others. As Homeboy Industries celebrates twenty-six years of work in downtown Los Angeles, the organization and its enterprises give hope to those seeking to leave gang life. Fr. Greg has received numerous awards for his work, while Homeboy Industries has been recognized as the largest and most successful gang intervention and re-entry program in the world.1
My friends, you and I may never travel to Northern Ireland or South Africa. We may not know any gang members or ever have the chance to help them remake their lives. However, we are followers of the One who, before his death, told his friends, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” We follow the One who, after being raised, instead of berating his followers for deserting him in his final hour, said, “Peace be with you.” We follow the One who then said, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” We too are called to work for peace and unity in all areas of our lives. We too are called to bring to others the blessing that comes with unity, “life for evermore.”
1. Krista Tippett’s interview with Fr. Greg is a good place to learn more about him and his work. Find it at http://www.onbeing.org/program/father-greg-boyle-on-the-calling-of-delight/5053
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Always Ahead of Us
Do you read the comic strip “Stone Soup?” It appears in the Columbus Dispatch, and it depicts two adult sisters who live next door to each other. The younger sister, Joan, is married and has small children, while the older sister, Val, is a widow with two daughters, thirteen year-old Holly, and ten year-old Alix. For as long as I’ve been following the strip, Holly has been a slacker and totally uninterested in schoolwork, while Alix has been an eager beaver especially interested in science. Yesterday’s strip depicts Val and Joan chatting, as they often do, across the back fence. Val announces, “Holly got all A’s on her Midterms.” Joan replies, “You mean Alix?” “No, Holly.” “Wow!” “Turns out she’s really smart,” says Val. Joan then asks, “Now what?” You can almost hear Val sigh as she says, “I have to go sit down …. Paradigm shift is exhausting.”
Paradigm shift is exhausting. Paradigm shift is also terrifying and amazing. Three of the women who had walked with Jesus and bankrolled his ministry stood at distance and watched him die on the cross. They watched while his body was taken down from the cross, wrapped in a linen winding-sheet, and laid in a cave-like tomb. They saw the large stone rolled against the opening of the tomb. They had been prevented by the coming of the Sabbath from finishing the burial rites that their beloved friend deserved as a faithful Jew, so now they have returned to the tomb, wondering if the three of them can together roll away the stone and actually reach Jesus’ body. Through the misty dawn light, they see that the entrance to the tomb is open again. Wait! Are they in the right place? Gingerly they walk in only to find a young man – an angel perhaps – with an unbelievable message: “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here.” What? No wonder they were alarmed, terrified, and amazed! Some things can’t be described. What words could the women use to explain what they had just heard? Something had happened that was completely outside the realm of ordinary understanding. Everything in their world had completely shifted!
Were the women so terrified and amazed that, in the midst of their paradigm shift, they missed the command and the promise in the angel’s pronouncement? “Go tell his disciples and even Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” Whatever had happened between Friday afternoon and Sunday morning, Jesus was no longer in that tomb and was now out ahead of them again. Jesus was once again beckoning the women and his other dispirited followers back onto the road, on to something completely new – just as he had repeatedly promised them! Were they ready to follow him?
They must have been. Mark’s gospel ends just where we just heard it, with the women’s terror and amazement. Pious monks and scribes found that ending so unsatisfying that they added two different new endings to the gospel. But, in a sense, we don’t need to hear any more to the story, because the story isn’t finished yet. In fact, we are part of it. We can be sure that the terrified and amazed women did deliver the angel’s message. In the other gospels, we can read about the risen Jesus’ various appearances to his friends. In the book of Acts, we can hear Paul relate his encounter with the risen Jesus on the road to Damascus. In the two thousand years since that fateful day, millions of other people have experienced the risen Christ. The terrified and amazed women were not the only ones whose paradigms shifted.
And what of ourselves? Paradigm shift is exhausting, terrifying, amazing, and mystifying! What actually happened in the time between that horrifying afternoon and that misty dawn? “He has been raised; he is not here.” But what actually happened? Even after two thousand years, we can’t explain it. Even those of us who come here joyfully celebrating this bright Sunday can’t say for sure what “he is risen” actually means. Are we Biblical literalists? Are we talking about a resuscitated corpse? Did his disciples steal Jesus’ body and circulate a tall tale? Or did those early Christians borrow from other ancient myths and circulate a story about a re-born hero?
You would not be here if that’s how you see the events we celebrate today. Truthfully, the possibility that Jesus was raised will always remain a mystery. Rationalists, skeptics, and literalists will never understand it. The resurrection defies the laws of science as we currently understand them. Perhaps we too need a paradigm shift. Do you remember C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? In that wonderful story, Aslan, the great Lion, is killed by the white witch. After he returns to life and defeats the witch, he explains to the four children about Deep Magic. Perhaps we need to consider that our world contains a deeper naturalism than we think. Perhaps it is possible that Jesus’ rising reflects a deeper energy that grounds our world, an energy that is truly amazing, and that reveals more than we can understand, ask or imagine. Perhaps we need to open ourselves to wonder and amazement and accept the possibility of a paradigm shift in our understanding of life.
What happened in that dark cave will always remain a mystery. But, as Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori reminded us in her Easter message, “The only place we will not find him is in the tomb.” Like the terrified and amazed women, we also need to hear the angel’s promise. “Go tell his disciples and even Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” If we too are Jesus’ followers, then our story isn’t finished either, and Jesus is always going ahead of us beckoning us to follow him to Galilee. “We will find him already there before us, bringing new and verdant life.”
In our personal lives, Jesus is always leading us towards change and growth if we will let him. As we journey through life, we may stumble and fall, we may take the wrong turn, and we may do things we regret. As we look back, we might even slap our foreheads and say, “I was an idiot! How could I have done that?” Yet, as Franciscan Richard Rohr reminds us, “The steps to maturity are, by their very nature, immature.” And Jesus is always going on ahead of us, leading us to new and better life. It is by God’s grace that we can acknowledge our own failures and brokenness. But is also by God’s grace that we come to understand the depth of God’s love for us – revealed in the cross and resurrection! And it is by grace, that we acknowledge that we are not finished as human beings until we draw our last breath, that Jesus is always bidding us to seek new paradigms, new understandings of who he is and who we are, new ways of living as his followers.
Jesus is also always leading us towards change and growth in our life as a church. This parish has a wonderful history. It is amazing to think that faithful Christians have been worshiping in this building since 1858. We love our sacred space, our liturgy, and our traditions. Yet even we as a parish we know that Jesus has gone on ahead of us, and that we too are called to growth and change. In his message to the assembled clergy at our service of reaffirmation of ordination vows, Bp. Breidenthal reminded us that we are part of changes shaking Christianity worldwide. In this new world, the entire Episcopal Church is now on the move with Jesus, and all of us are called to be part of something new. What will our paradigm shift involve? Will we become a looser, more flexible institution? Will this parish cease to exist, and will followers of Jesus in Gallipolis gather themselves differently? We have no answers to any of these questions. All we have is the promise in the angel’s word to the women: “He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”
Yes, paradigm shifts are exhausting. The angel’s words to us are terrifying and amazing. Yet, thanks be to God, Jesus is not in the tomb but out in front of us, always beckoning us towards life and growth. We are not called to be passive victims or bystanders. We are not called to lament change and mourn for the old certainties of the past. We are called to be “resurrection partners,” we are called to celebrate with God, and to rejoice in birth, rebirth, and renewal. We may not know what Galilee will look like now, but we can nevertheless practice Resurrection as we joyfully and confidently follow along behind Jesus.
Paradigm shift is exhausting. Paradigm shift is also terrifying and amazing. Three of the women who had walked with Jesus and bankrolled his ministry stood at distance and watched him die on the cross. They watched while his body was taken down from the cross, wrapped in a linen winding-sheet, and laid in a cave-like tomb. They saw the large stone rolled against the opening of the tomb. They had been prevented by the coming of the Sabbath from finishing the burial rites that their beloved friend deserved as a faithful Jew, so now they have returned to the tomb, wondering if the three of them can together roll away the stone and actually reach Jesus’ body. Through the misty dawn light, they see that the entrance to the tomb is open again. Wait! Are they in the right place? Gingerly they walk in only to find a young man – an angel perhaps – with an unbelievable message: “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here.” What? No wonder they were alarmed, terrified, and amazed! Some things can’t be described. What words could the women use to explain what they had just heard? Something had happened that was completely outside the realm of ordinary understanding. Everything in their world had completely shifted!
Were the women so terrified and amazed that, in the midst of their paradigm shift, they missed the command and the promise in the angel’s pronouncement? “Go tell his disciples and even Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” Whatever had happened between Friday afternoon and Sunday morning, Jesus was no longer in that tomb and was now out ahead of them again. Jesus was once again beckoning the women and his other dispirited followers back onto the road, on to something completely new – just as he had repeatedly promised them! Were they ready to follow him?
They must have been. Mark’s gospel ends just where we just heard it, with the women’s terror and amazement. Pious monks and scribes found that ending so unsatisfying that they added two different new endings to the gospel. But, in a sense, we don’t need to hear any more to the story, because the story isn’t finished yet. In fact, we are part of it. We can be sure that the terrified and amazed women did deliver the angel’s message. In the other gospels, we can read about the risen Jesus’ various appearances to his friends. In the book of Acts, we can hear Paul relate his encounter with the risen Jesus on the road to Damascus. In the two thousand years since that fateful day, millions of other people have experienced the risen Christ. The terrified and amazed women were not the only ones whose paradigms shifted.
And what of ourselves? Paradigm shift is exhausting, terrifying, amazing, and mystifying! What actually happened in the time between that horrifying afternoon and that misty dawn? “He has been raised; he is not here.” But what actually happened? Even after two thousand years, we can’t explain it. Even those of us who come here joyfully celebrating this bright Sunday can’t say for sure what “he is risen” actually means. Are we Biblical literalists? Are we talking about a resuscitated corpse? Did his disciples steal Jesus’ body and circulate a tall tale? Or did those early Christians borrow from other ancient myths and circulate a story about a re-born hero?
You would not be here if that’s how you see the events we celebrate today. Truthfully, the possibility that Jesus was raised will always remain a mystery. Rationalists, skeptics, and literalists will never understand it. The resurrection defies the laws of science as we currently understand them. Perhaps we too need a paradigm shift. Do you remember C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? In that wonderful story, Aslan, the great Lion, is killed by the white witch. After he returns to life and defeats the witch, he explains to the four children about Deep Magic. Perhaps we need to consider that our world contains a deeper naturalism than we think. Perhaps it is possible that Jesus’ rising reflects a deeper energy that grounds our world, an energy that is truly amazing, and that reveals more than we can understand, ask or imagine. Perhaps we need to open ourselves to wonder and amazement and accept the possibility of a paradigm shift in our understanding of life.
What happened in that dark cave will always remain a mystery. But, as Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori reminded us in her Easter message, “The only place we will not find him is in the tomb.” Like the terrified and amazed women, we also need to hear the angel’s promise. “Go tell his disciples and even Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” If we too are Jesus’ followers, then our story isn’t finished either, and Jesus is always going ahead of us beckoning us to follow him to Galilee. “We will find him already there before us, bringing new and verdant life.”
In our personal lives, Jesus is always leading us towards change and growth if we will let him. As we journey through life, we may stumble and fall, we may take the wrong turn, and we may do things we regret. As we look back, we might even slap our foreheads and say, “I was an idiot! How could I have done that?” Yet, as Franciscan Richard Rohr reminds us, “The steps to maturity are, by their very nature, immature.” And Jesus is always going on ahead of us, leading us to new and better life. It is by God’s grace that we can acknowledge our own failures and brokenness. But is also by God’s grace that we come to understand the depth of God’s love for us – revealed in the cross and resurrection! And it is by grace, that we acknowledge that we are not finished as human beings until we draw our last breath, that Jesus is always bidding us to seek new paradigms, new understandings of who he is and who we are, new ways of living as his followers.
Jesus is also always leading us towards change and growth in our life as a church. This parish has a wonderful history. It is amazing to think that faithful Christians have been worshiping in this building since 1858. We love our sacred space, our liturgy, and our traditions. Yet even we as a parish we know that Jesus has gone on ahead of us, and that we too are called to growth and change. In his message to the assembled clergy at our service of reaffirmation of ordination vows, Bp. Breidenthal reminded us that we are part of changes shaking Christianity worldwide. In this new world, the entire Episcopal Church is now on the move with Jesus, and all of us are called to be part of something new. What will our paradigm shift involve? Will we become a looser, more flexible institution? Will this parish cease to exist, and will followers of Jesus in Gallipolis gather themselves differently? We have no answers to any of these questions. All we have is the promise in the angel’s word to the women: “He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”
Yes, paradigm shifts are exhausting. The angel’s words to us are terrifying and amazing. Yet, thanks be to God, Jesus is not in the tomb but out in front of us, always beckoning us towards life and growth. We are not called to be passive victims or bystanders. We are not called to lament change and mourn for the old certainties of the past. We are called to be “resurrection partners,” we are called to celebrate with God, and to rejoice in birth, rebirth, and renewal. We may not know what Galilee will look like now, but we can nevertheless practice Resurrection as we joyfully and confidently follow along behind Jesus.
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