Loving Conflict

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
January 31, 2010; 4 Epiphany, Year C
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Luke 4:21-30) – In the synagogue at Nazareth, Jesus read from the book of the prophet Isaiah, and began to say, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, "Is not this Joseph's son?" He said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.'" And he said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian." When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.
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There is a lot of conflict and turbulence in these readings today.

The first reading from Jeremiah is sometimes titled "The Calling of the Prophet Jeremiah." It has a personal connection for me. I used this reading at my ordination. I could relate to Jeremiah's protest, "Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy." When I was ordained, I was only a boy. God tells the boy, "Speak whatever I command you." At the time of my ordination, I knew that's what I wanted to do – to speak God's word. But I was a bit uncomfortable with the last verse in this reading. In the last verse of Jeremiah's call, God told Jeremiah that his work would be more conflictive than I hoped my work would be. God called Jeremiah "to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant." We'll, I liked those last two. I'd really like to build and to plant. But it made me anxious to imagine myself involved in plucking up and pulling down, in destroying and in overthrowing. I hoped I wouldn't have as volatile a career as Jeremiah. But those other words of conflict and turbulence are also part of the call.

Most of us have heard 1 Corinthians 13 read at lots of weddings we've attended: the "Love Chapter." But the original context of Paul's words is not a wedding. It's church politics. The church in Corinth has been troublesome for Paul. They've been acting elitist, proud, and self-satisfied. From Paul's perspective they've been "abusing their freedom, refusing to share, scorning their neighbors' spiritual gifts, boasting in their own gifts, seeking recognition for themselves, and jockeying for position in the church."(1) Paul is angry with them. It doesn't matter how big your outreach program is or how pretty your worship may be or how smart your preachers think they are or how fine your choir is. Without love, it's nothing. Paul points toward every single thing that their congregation is proud of and asks them, "Are these things done with love? How might they be done with greater love?" It's not a complement. It's a challenge.

And if you think Jeremiah or Paul might have ticked off some people, Jesus really infuriated folks in his own hometown. We heard the first part of this story last week. Jesus is visiting the synagogue at his home in Nazareth, and he reads from Isaiah. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." And we pick up with today's Gospel: Jesus says, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Sounds like people reacted positively. "All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth." How about Joseph's little boy. Hasn't he grown up?

But Jesus won't let it lie there. Maybe he knows something about his hometown. Maybe he knows that they only way they will relate to him is to revel in some degree of his celebrity status. Hometown boy makes good. Just goes to show. Nazareth is Number 1.

Whatever the underlying reasons, Jesus provokes them, intentionally. I'm not going to do any miracles here, like you've heard about from Capernaum. My work, God's work, is not about "homies." You remember in Elijah's days. There was a famine throughout Israel. But Elijah didn't help any of his people. He went over the border to Sidon, to a pagan widow over there, and he fed her during the entire famine. You remember Elisha. There were lots of lepers in Israel, but he didn't heal any of them. Instead, he healed Naaman, a general in the Syrian army, the same Syrian army that has fought against Israel over and over in our history.

That's provocative language. It's almost like President Obama saying "the heck with a stimulus package for American jobs, I'm sending billions to Mexico because they've got people out of work there." Or, "I'm abandoning my health reform effort on behalf of Americans, and authorizing free international medical care for Al-Qaeda."

People in Nazareth were enraged. They wanted to kill him. Then we hear that mysterious verse: "But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way." He stood his ground. Willing to alienate them; willing to let them reject him; willing to give up those relationships. He took a position and held it, even in the face of resistence, conflict and anger. Thus, self-defined, he passed through them, and went on his way.

I think Jesus' issues with Nazareth and Paul's issues with Corinth were similar. They are issues about love. Jesus and Paul make love their own self-definition. For Paul, love is more important than performance or talent or gifts or success. If you can't do your work with love, it's garbage. For Jesus, love goes universal. Love extends outward to the foreigner, the outsider, ...even the enemy. And if you can't handle that, if you can't love the alien, the immigrant, the enemy, he's willing to walk right through you and go on his way.

Jesus looks at the pride of his hometown, expressed as bias and prejudice, and he outs them. Paul looks at a self-satisfied, elitist church, and he shames them with love. In Jeremiah's words, there is some plucking up and pulling down going on, there's some destroying and overthrowing going on, in order to build and plant a kind of love that is primary and universal.

I'll bet some things changed. Whenever one person stands boldly, on principle, willing to let others reject and alienate – whenever one person takes a position and holds it, even in the face of resistence, conflict and anger – the whole system will be affected. I'll bet Paul's insistence on love deflated some of the spiritual pride in the congregation at Corinth. We know, especially from Second Corinthians, that he had to continue to reassert his message about love-centered leadership. We know that eventually the church did indeed respond generously.

I'll bet some things were shaken up in Nazareth. Despite their violent reaction toward Jesus, they knew they could no longer treat outsiders with prejudice without knowing they were known. Jesus did to Nazareth what Martin Luther King did to the segregated South. His stance of love forced their prejudice into the cold light of day.

We are invited to follow their example. Each of us is called. Often to build and to plant. Sometimes to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow. Whenever we see structures of pride and greed, elitism and prejudice – we are called to make a stand. We are to take a position of love, and to stand boldly on the principles of love, regardless of any resistence, conflict or anger it might provoke. That's the only way things change for good.

Love boldly. Beyond the boundaries of self-interest and bias. For, as Paul tells us, "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. ...And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love."
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(1) Lewis F. Galloway, Pastoral Perspective, for 4 Epiphany in Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 1, Bartlett and Taylor, eds., Westminster John Knox Press. p. 302
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The Mission of St. Paul's Episcopal Church is to explore and celebrate
God's infinite grace, acceptance and love.

For information about St. Paul's Episcopal Church and it's life and mission, please contact us at
P.O. Box 1190, Fayetteville, AR 72702, or call 479/442-7373

Sermon podcasts are available at www.thecommunicant.com
More sermons are posted on our web site: www.stpaulsfay.org
Visit our web partners at www.explorefaith.org

Water into Wine

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
January 16, 2010; 2 Epiphany, Year C
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(John 2:1-11) – On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward." So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now." Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
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Isaiah lived in a land that everyone could see was desolate and forsaken. Not unlike the images we see from Haiti today. Isaiah said that he could not keep silent. He had to speak out and tell of another vision that he could see for that land.
You shall no more be termed Forsaken,
and your land shall no more be termed Desolate;
but you shall be called My Delight is in Her,
and your land Married;
for the Lord delights in you,
and your land shall be married.
For as a young man marries a young woman,
so shall your builder marry you,
and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
so shall your God rejoice over you.

I wonder if anyone but Isaiah could see that joyful possibility when he spoke of it in the midst of forsaken desolation.

Jesus' mother became startled by a more domestic catastrophe. She was the one who noticed at the family wedding feast, "They have no wine." In our culture, that might be interpreted as an unfortunate inconvenience, a minor faux pas. In the honor-shame culture of the Mediterranean, this was a disaster in the making. To bring shame upon a family by failing in a social obligation could brand the entire extended family with disgrace and humiliation that could last for generations. It would affect their business relationships, their circle of friends might disappear, the potential for family alliances that would lead to prosperous and stable marriages would be seriously compromised. For the rest of their lives, this newly wed couple would be branded. Oh, they're the ones whose wine ran out at their wedding. It would hang over them like a curse. That was the cultural norm.

Mary recognizes the threat. Mary embodies the fulsome feminine spirit that is so awake, so filled with compassion an empathy, so attentive to the needs of others. She goes immediately to her son, with an expectation that he do something about it. "They have no wine," she tells him.

She gets a Mediterranean retort in response. "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." Everybody who studies this verse is bothered by it. It is an abrupt and sharp answer. The epithet "Woman" is not kind or complementary. This is a "So what?" answer. "What makes you think this is any of my business?" A Baptist preacher in Austin says he used to have a Big Dog t-shirt that said, "Quit hounding me, Woman!" but it disappeared in the wash after some household "discussion." "Woman!" isn’t the kind of caustic retort we expect from Jesus." (1)

It doesn't seem to faze Mary. She turns immediately to the servants and tells them, "Do whatever he tells you." Sometimes parents have to push their children out of the nest, don't they? Jesus didn't think he was ready for this. Momma thought he was.

There are Marys all around us who see things that are wrong and who really believe we can do something about it, whether we believe so or not, regardless of how inconvenient or costly it might seem to us. The Marys of the world see problems and expect us to do something.

There are a couple of object lessons in this exchange between Mary and Jesus.

For the Marys in the world, for those who see the problems and demand response – don't be rebuffed by the first negative resistence. Sharp language is just family talk. We're all family – human family. Marys, stick by your principles. Let them call you a nag, then insist that they do something.

Another lesson. This story reminds us not to walk away when the wine runs out. It's a reminder that we may have a part in solving problems that aren't ours. So, when Mary speaks, listen! Then do something, even if you think it would take a miracle.

The miracle happens when Jesus sees the water and imagines it to be wine. It's like Isaiah seeing a desolate and forsaken Jerusalem and imagining the city to be a crown of beauty.

When divine energy meets ordinary desolation, life is transformed. Resurrection happens.

A seventeenth century poet wrote, "The modest water saw its God, and blushed." (2) Water becomes wine. A forsaken city becomes a bride.

Listen to the Marys. They tell us to get involved with human need and to do something.

And to all of you Marys out there; don't give up. Don't accept "No" for an answer. Keep believing that God's children will respond and do something.

And to all the rest of us. You may think that the problems are beyond our capacity? You may feel like you are out of wine, that we're all out of gas. Look again. How can God change our mere water into wine?

Today the Marys of our world are insisting that we do something – about Haiti, about health, about poverty and violence. "Do whatever Jesus tells you," they say. "Fill up the jars with water," Jesus says. We can fill up the jars of the Episcopal Relief and Development Fund, and they know how to turn water into wine, how to turn money into life. Let the modest Episcopalian see our God, and blush with love.

There is an abundance that is beyond our limited vision. There is more possibility than we can see. And if we only keep filling jars with water, God has ways to turn it into wine.

Where is the disaster? ...the humiliation or shame? Where has the wine run out?

Listen to Mary. Do something about it. Do whatever Jesus tell you. What is Jesus telling you to do? Do it. And leave the rest to God. God can take whatever modest response you offer, and do miracles with it. God can turn our water into wine.
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(1) Larry L. Bethune, Ph.D., Senior Pastor, University Baptist Church, Austin, Texas. from his sermon: Running On Empty, posted at goodpreacher.com

(2) Usually attributed to Richard Crashaw (d. 1670); or possibly by Abraham Cowley in honor of Crashaw. The original is a Latin epigram in pentameter verse: Nympha pudica Deum vidit et erubuit.
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The Mission of St. Paul's Episcopal Church is to explore and celebrate
God's infinite grace, acceptance and love.

For information about St. Paul's Episcopal Church and it's life and mission, please contact us at
P.O. Box 1190, Fayetteville, AR 72702, or call 479/442-7373

More sermons are posted on our web site: www.stpaulsfay.org
Visit our web partners at www.explorefaith.org

Protecting the Child

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
January 3, 2010; 2 Christmas, Year B
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Matthew 2:13-15,19-23) – Now after the wise men had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, "Out of Egypt I have called my son."

When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child's life are dead." Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, "He will be called a Nazorean."
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We rarely get to hear this story of the Holy Family's flight into Egypt. Some years, when Christmas happens earlier in the week, we don't have a Second Sunday of Christmas before January 6th, when Epiphany comes. If we do get a second Sunday between Christmas and Epiphany, some years we hear the story of the visit of the Magi; other years we get the story of the Family's visit to Jerusalem where they lose Jesus for a few days while he is in the Temple debating with the Rabbis; occasionally, rarely, we hear this story, about Joseph's leading his family away from trouble into a foreign land, and back.

Whenever I hear the story of the journey of Joseph, Mary and Jesus into Egypt, I always think of all of the refugees and immigrants throughout the world. So many families fleeing from violence or threat, famine and poverty. So many parents following their dreams, moving to a place of new hope for their families, a new start for their children.

This story awakens my imagination. I wonder about that sojourn into Egypt. I wonder what sort of welcome the Holy Family received in a foreign land. Did they have to hide and run from border guards? Were they living under threat of deportation? Did they suffer prejudice? Most certainly they sought hospitality among their own people, among the other Jews living in Egypt. Did the Egyptians treat them with respect? Could Joseph find work where they would pay him a just wage and not take advantage of his immigrant status?

I thought about Joseph and Mary last week when I visited with a young Mexican woman who had been repeatedly paid late for her work in a local restaurant, and when she was injured on the job, her employer fired her and paid half what she was owed with a hot check. People who visit regularly with our local immigrants hear these stories all the time. A September report that surveyed low-wage workers in three major cities found that nearly seven out of every ten workers interviewed had been cheated out of some their rightful pay in the previous work week. This was a survey covering all low-wage workers, not just immigrants. People take advantage of the weak and poor.

I thought about Jesus recently when I heard the story about a young man who grew up from age two in California and graduated from Harvard last May. His parents were unable to complete the complicated process for naturalization before he reached his eighteenth birthday, so he is now an illegal immigrant. He's lived in the U.S. virtually all his life, has a Harvard degree, and now, he can't work here. After graduation from Harvard, he had to move to his birthplace, Mexico, in order to get a job. I hear stories like that and I wonder what might have happened to Jesus if Joseph had stayed in Egypt?

Whenever I hear conversations and debates about immigration in the U.S., I always think about Mary and Joseph and Jesus fleeing from their home in Israel to find refuge as immigrants in Egypt. I yearn for laws and policies that would give today's Jose, Maria and Jesus the kind of respect, protection and opportunity that we would have wanted for the Holy Family during their sojourn in a foreign land.

Whenever I read this story, I am also struck by Joseph's leadership and the fateful decisions he makes. Two things stand out to me about the way Joseph makes these decisions. First – he decides in terms of the child. His first priority is the good and protection of the child. The second thing that stands out, is that he makes reference to his dreams, and uses his dreams as a source of wisdom and direction.

What would our society look like if we made children the first priority for our important decisions? What if we never let money or power or the comfort of adults be more important than the interests of children, now and in the future generations? Native American wisdom has a tradition that every important decision must be made with the interest of the seventh generation in mind. That's worth thinking about.

There's another way to access the good of the child when making decisions. Many people find their own personal direction with reference to what is sometimes called our "inner child." Books like John Bradshaw's Homecoming teach us how to get in touch with our inner child, a part of us which is our God-given personhood – who we are before we became limited, hurt and defined by others. ...before we became cynical, self-protective, pessimistic. That child is always present within us and within our culture and our world.

What does the child represent? The child is always new life, promise, possibility, tomorrow, change, challenge, hope. The new child is the creative present. God's great "Yes!"

That child is in you. No matter how stale, stuck, penned-in you may feel, no matter how routine or limited your life may seem, that original and God-blessed inner child is within you. We sing with the Christmas carol, "O holy child of Bethlehem, be born in us today," and we touch the divine child, the holy child within, that place of new life and promise and hope, the realization of unqualified love and security. That child is always present in you.

The child is also present in the church, in our society and in our culture. Its voice is often the spirit of challenge and change, of new ideas, new ways, new possibilities. It resonates to the energy of the quest: How can we make love more bountiful? How can we make life more abundant, for all?

Wherever the child is trying to be born, Herod is also present.

Herod resents the new reality coming to birth and tries to stop it, especially if that future means a change of power. Herod is our fear of new life and new ideas. Herod is the energy that tries to hold back the possibilities for our future. Herod lives inside you and in me. Herod is the inner voice who says, "you can't; you're no good; forget it." Herod is the voice that says "be afraid; be afraid of change; don't do anything differently; the way things are is the way things are supposed to be; we've never done it that way before."

Herod is no dreamer. Herod knows where the power is; where the bottom line is. Herod's self-interest is the status quo.

Herod is in each of us. Whenever we are more comfortable with the cold reality of the way things are than we are with dreaming of the way they could be, we are living in Herod's world. Herod tries to kill the child, the vulnerable hope of a new and better you, a new and better world.

It is so important to protect the child. Protect the child within you; protect the child within the world.

The Gospel says that the Spirit of God is always doing new things, bringing new life through divine creation, the unexpected, the surprise; not by power, but by love. Maybe that's why dreams figure so prominently in this story. When we are most vulnerable, least in control, most childlike, letting go in trust, when we are within the renewing gift of sleep – then dreams come.

Some say dreams are the child in us, speaking to us. Some say dreams are one of God's ways to communicate with us. It seems very likely that dreams are a way for the deepest part of us, to communicate with the rest of us.

When Joseph was faced with serious threats and important decisions, he paid close attention to his dreams; and by doing so, he discovered direction – life-giving direction that helped him protect the child.

We too can dream of a better way to live. We can dream of a better world. We can care for the child – our own inner child and the generation of children living in our time. We can protect the child, and protect others who share the vulnerability of children, such as low-wage workers and immigrants.

Respect, protection, and hopeful dreams.

The message of Christmas is that God is with us – Immanuel. Every family, therefore, is a Holy Family. Every Child is a Christ-bearer. The child we protect and nurture is the new possibility that God is birthing among us for the healing of the world.

Arise dreamers. We have much to hope for. We have much to protect from Herod. And we have much to care for. It is a holy journey for all of us immigrants.
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(1) Broken Laws, Unprotected Workers, published by the Center for Urban Economic Development, U. of Illinois at Chicago; the National Employment Law Project; and UCLA Institute for Research on Labor and Employment.
______________________________________________

The Mission of St. Paul's Episcopal Church is to explore and celebrate
God's infinite grace, acceptance and love.

For information about St. Paul's Episcopal Church and it's life and mission, please contact us at
P.O. Box 1190, Fayetteville, AR 72702, or call 479/442-7373
More sermons are posted on our web site: www.stpaulsfay.org
Visit our web partners at www.explorefaith.org