Sunday, March 24, 2013

And They Became Friends


"And They Became Friends"
A sermon delivered by Rev. Peter T. Atkinson
March 24, 2013
at Gordonsville Presbyterian Church, Gordonsville, Virginia
Luke 23: 1-12 

Let us pray,
Help us to see despite our eyes
Help us to think outside of our minds
Help us to be more than our lives      
For your eyes show the way
            Your mind knows the truth
            Your being is the life.
Amen. 

23 Then the assembly rose as a body and brought Jesus before Pilate. 2 They began to accuse him, saying, “We found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king.” 3 Then Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” He answered, “You say so.” 4 Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no basis for an accusation against this man.” 5 But they were insistent and said, “He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place.”
6 When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. 7 And when he learned that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him off to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. 8 When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had been wanting to see him for a long time, because he had heard about him and was hoping to see him perform some sign. 9 He questioned him at some length, but Jesus gave him no answer. 10 The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him. 11 Even Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him; then he put an elegant robe on him, and sent him back to Pilate. 12 That same day Herod and Pilate became friends with each other; before this they had been enemies. [1]  

Palm Sunday, as I figured out this week, being my first time through this season preaching from the lectionary, Palm Sunday, you get some choices. This Sunday has actually two names, Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday, so the first choice you get to make is whether you choose a Palm parade text, or whether you choose a passion text. It gives you some options because there is a lot to the texts this week. There is a lot to cover, so a week away from Easter do you talk about Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, and then jump ahead,  all the way to the Resurrection in one week? Or do you focus on a passion text, making a closer connection to Easter next week. I chose the latter of the two options, mostly because, not having a Good Friday special service, it seemed like a pretty big jump forward in the story, skipping way too much. I wanted to have a better setup for Easter. Then there was the next choice. The Lectionary puts forward the entire selection of the passion story from Luke, something like Luke 22:14-23:56 or Luke 23:1-49. I thought that was too long and too broad of a focus, but within that text, I was drawn to a line that I didn't remember from prior readings, but this time seemed to jump right out. This line is the last line I read, Luke 23:12 -- "That same day Herod and Pilate became friends with each other; before this they had been enemies."
I don't know why it jumped out, but it did. I've always been fascinated by the trial of Jesus, and all the steps, but yet the whirlwind nature of it all, going from arrest to trial by religious officials, to trial by Pilate, to trial by Herod, back to Pilate, to trial by the mob, sentence and crucifixion. Elaborate yes, but  all very quick. Last year I preached on the idea that the facts of the trial are irrelevant. That Pilate isn't going to convict without a confession, Herod isn't going to convict without some kind of miracle sign which would show that Jesus posed more than a joke by an obvious fraud, but rather a real threat to his position, and then lastly the mob makes the final decision, and the mob isn't interested in facts. I made the parallel to today, how Jesus is still on trial, and often we feel called to be his trial lawyers, but that calling is futile, and seemingly errant to Jesus' actual call and plans for us. You see last year I made the same choice, preaching on the passion texts on Palm Sunday rather than the parade. I guess it's hard to focus on Palm Sunday this close to Good Friday, it seems late, like the palms have already been traded in for crosses, and the shouts of Hosannas turned to Crucify him. I've often thought that Palm Sunday would make some sense to be the first Sunday in Lent rather than the last because so much happens during Jesus' journey to the cross that it is entirely impossible to fit it all in, in one week. Having the entire Lenten season to tell all parts of the story would make sense, but I did that type of thing last year, so this year I'm playing along.
So let's look at this, Herod and Pilate, all of a sudden are friends. Fascinating. Is this a good thing though or a bad thing for the occupied Jews? Does it mean that some real work is going to be done, that the politicians and powers that be have put aside their differences and can start coexisting together? Can they get together finally and start working for the people, start putting in real reforms, start making a positive difference, now that the political bickering is finally over? Peace between Rome and Judea finally possible, an end to the fighting, an end to the abuses, a beginning of talking, and talking is good. It all seems so good. Don't many of us wish that our very own squabbling politicians would find a way for this change to be the case. There could be a little by-line in an AP wire, "John Boehner and President Obama, once were enemies, but on this same day they became friends." "Rand Paul and Debbie Wasserman Schultz sign into law groundbreaking bipartisan bill." "Senate comes together in a historical unanimous passing of a budget."
Maybe it's the skeptic in me, maybe it's the historian, but I shudder to think what would be the results of the bipartisan leadership we say we all claim to want. History shows that when powerful people put aside enmity for friendship it is because they have joined together not in humble agreement, but in a new common enemy to crush. But is that me just looking at this without faith, selling Jesus short. . . I decided to look up this passage in good old Matthew Henry's Commentary. He wrote this:

12. They had been at enmity between themselves, probably upon Pilate’s killing of the Galileans, who were Herod’s subjects (Lu. 13:1), or some other such matter of controversy as usually occurs among princes and great men. Christ is the great peace-maker; both Pilate and Herod owned his innocency, and their agreeing in this cured their disagreeing in other things.[2]  

I really liked this. It had all the hopefulness that you look for when you read Matthew Henry. Christ is the great peacemaker, that he cannot do anything but inspire peace, even between the most unlikely of folks. I mean look at the picture he paints as to the cause of the strife between them, the killing of Herod's subjects, but now peace, forgiveness. There is hope there. Christ even indirectly has the power to bring peace. I am skeptical though, this seems in line with Matthew Henry to try too hard, to put too much significance on things, tying them all to the miracle of the incarnation, and the power of Jesus. Because the question we must ask ourselves is, why is this little factoid included? Is it like Matthew Henry suggests, to show the unconquerable peace-making power of Jesus, or is it to foreshadow something much more diabolical. Oppression on a larger scale because the two most powerful men in Judea are now on the same page. Neither has a strong record of helping the people, so why would they all of a sudden come together and be for them? Most likely it won't turn out good.
Again I was lost, and stuck, trying to get something from this, and having a very hard time? Why is this here and what does it signify? Is it good news, bad news, or indifferent news? Luke is the only gospel writer that includes it, what is he getting at?  I decided in my studies to try to get closer by looking for the Prayer of Preparation for the bulletin. I often use this as a study aid, something to get me closer, some piece of wisdom from antiquity, some poem, some quote that gives me a different look at the idea. So what I did this time was to look for quotes that have the word friends and enemies together. I found so many interesting ones. Most having to do with how you really can't trust your friends. Interesting right? Pilate and Herod, all of a sudden friends, but do they trust one another? Then there were the ones about keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer? Hmm, what does Pilate want from Herod, what does Herod want from Pilate. Then I came across the two quotes that I ended up using, from perhaps the two most amazingly faithful Christians of the 20th century: Martin Luther King, who we are all familiar with, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who you may not know, but was a German pastor who resisted the Nazi's in Germany, even plotting to assassinate Hitler, despite his belief in pacifism. It was for this crime that he was placed in a Concentration Camp, he would be executed just days before the Allied Forces liberated the camp, even to his last day, he was writing, working, and trying to be a disciple regardless of the cost. His writings are truly amazing, and the testimony of his life just gives his insight all the more weight. Let's look at these two quotes, I couldn't get passed their connection to my questions, even if the context of them was very different.
First Dr. King: “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend.” I couldn't help but wonder how this applied to Pilate and Herod. It could support Henry's claim that Jesus' love was so strong that it converted Pilate and Herod from enemies to friends. But then I wondered how real this new found friendship was. What happens with Herod and Pilate after the crucifixion? Does the friendship last? Is it built on love, or something else? I did some more research, finding that there really is no evidence that Pilate ever did anything positive for the people of Judea, or for Herod, for that matter. Jewish historians like Josephus and Philo recount Pilate doing nothing but being antagonistic towards the Jews: One account is that Pilate was using temple money to build aqueducts. When Jews protested his actions, Pilate had soldiers hidden in the crowd while addressing the Jewish protesters. After giving the signal, Pilate's soldiers randomly attacked, beat, and killed scores of Jews to silence their petitions. He also arrogantly put gold shields (idol like) in sacred places, according to Philo, "just to antagonize the people, the emperor Tiberias actually reprimanded Pilate for this. Philo describes Pilate as having great "vindictiveness and a furious temper", and being "naturally inflexible, having a diabolical blend of self-will and relentlessness." No mention from either Historian as a period of detente, between he and the Jews, or between he and Herod. So it would seem that this friendship was not lasting.
But it was Bonhoeffer's quote that seemed to state it more clearly, shedding finally some light, or at least muddying it up enough to get caught in it. He wrote:

“Jesus Christ lived in the midst of his enemies. At the end all his disciples deserted him. On the Cross he was utterly alone, surrounded by evildoers and mockers. For this cause he had come, to bring peace to the enemies of God. So the Christian, too, belongs not in the seclusion of a cloistered life but in the thick of foes. There is his commission, his work.” 

He then goes on to quote Luther to close the quote, I chose not to include it in the bulletin because the vitriolic language is typical of Luther, but I wanted to included here, since Bonhoeffer does:

'The kingdom is to be in the midst of your enemies. And he who will not suffer this does not want to be of the Kingdom of Christ; he wants to be among friends, to sit among roses and lilies, not with the bad people but the devout people. O you blasphemers and betrayers of Christ! If Christ had done what you are doing who would ever have been spared' (Luther).” 

Bonhoeffer seems to ring with the same idea as that of Matthew Henry, but for some reason it didn't seem like just a happy, stretch to make Jesus more magical, even in this his darkest time, but instead rings with the amazing irony of Jesus' sacrifice. Bonhoeffer says, "he had come to bring peace to the enemies of God." Pilate and Herod? maybe, but not just them, all of us. Bonhoeffer seems to be asking us can we be humble enough to include us, ourselves with the those, whom we consider enemies of God, can we, because all of the disciples, those closest had abandoned him, those who had praised him waving palm branches had demanded him crucified, neither Pilate or Herod do it, neither of them call for Jesus to be executed, are they the enemies of God, or are we? Is it just the Herods and the Pilates, who fit that description? It's hard to know where you would find yourself in such a situation, Peter didn't think he could deny either.
This is the amazing piece of it though, just like Dr. King said,  "Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend," and it does, and so we get to Bonhoeffer's, so our place is in the midst of the world, giving it that transforming love. This transforming love, might not have changed Herod and Pilate for good, but it has done so much more. It has made possible our place with God, making it sure, giving us amazing hope, amazing potential, for God so loved the world that he gave his only son. . . this is the type of love that transforms even the most hardest of hearts, the most hardened of enemies into friends. May we be changed by its power? And may we then follow its example, and be beacons of love's power, creating friends out of enemies in real lasting ways, instead of just for the political expedience of the times. Bonhoeffer seems to suggest this is the call of a Christian. Our world is desperately in need of real and true friendship where enemies once stood, through Jesus Christ that transformation is possible.
I'd like to conclude with another one of Bonhoeffer's statements, this one spoken in August 1932,  just 4 months before Hitler was made Chancellor of Germany, his description of the times are eerily similar to ours. . .. He says,

It is as though all the powers of the world had conspired together against peace; money, business, the lust for power; indeed even love for the fatherland have been pressed into the service of hate. Hate of nations, hate of people against their own countrymen. It is already flaring up here and there--what are the events in the Far East and in South America but a proof that all human ties are dissolving to nothing, that there is no fear of anything where the passion of hate is nourished and breaks out? Events are coming to a head more terribly than before--millions hungry, people with cruelly deferred and unfulfilled wishes, desperate men who have nothing to lose but their lives and will lose nothing in losing them--humiliated and degraded nations who cannot get over their shame--political extreme against political extreme, fanatic against fanatic, idol against idol, and behind it all a world which bristles with weapons as never before, a world which feverishly arms to guarantee peace through arming, a world whose idol has become the word security--a world without sacrifice, full of mistrust and suspicion because past fears are still with it--a humanity which trembles at itself, a humanity which is not sure of itself and is ready at any time to lay violent hands on itself--how can one close one's eyes at the fact that the demons themselves have taken over the rule of the world, that it is the powers of darkness who have here made an awful conspiracy and could break out at any moment? --How could one think that these demons could be driven out, these powers annihilated with a bit of education in international understanding or with a bit of goodwill?

One could accuse such a statement, and many did, as being one of just abject cynicism and hopelessness, but not for a Christian, for he concludes that statement with

"Christ must become present to us in preaching and in the sacraments just as in being the crucified one he has made peace with God and with humanity. The crucified Christ is our peace. He alone exorcizes the idols and the demons. The world trembles only before the cross, not before us" 

This week we remember that cross, and that love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend. I'm glad that God is love. Amen.



[1]The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. 1989 (Lk 23:1-12). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.
[2]Henry, M. (1996, c1991). Matthew Henry's commentary on the whole Bible : Complete and unabridged in one volume (Lk 23:1). Peabody: Hendrickson.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Better Served


"Better Served"
A sermon delivered by Rev. Peter T. Atkinson
March 17, 2013
at Gordonsville Presbyterian Church, Gordonsville, Virginia
John 12: 1-8 

Let us pray,
Help us to see despite our eyes
Help us to think outside of our minds
Help us to be more than our lives      
For your eyes show the way
            Your mind knows the truth
            Your being is the life.
Amen. 

12 Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” 6 (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7 Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” [1] 
 

It seems that they pack all of Jesus' loaded exchanges in the Lent season, at least this year in the cycle. This week is no different. There is much packed in this little exchange. In this John version of the story there are many distinguishing marks. You have foreshadowing of Judas and his betrayal, you have the recurring characters of Mary, again at the feet of Jesus, while her sister Martha serves. They are the sisters of Lazarus, whom we are reminded that Jesus raised him from the dead, even though it just happened in the previous chapter, so all of this is background to the exchange where Judas questions Mary for annointing Jesus' feet with expensive oil, when that money could have been better  used for the poor, and Jesus admonishes him saying, "Leave her alone. You always have the poor with  you, but you do not always have me." This exchange is also found in Matthew and also in Mark, but in both of those the characters and setting are different. They all three take place in a town called Bethany, but in those versions it is not Lazarus' house, instead is the house of Simon the Leper, there is no Mary, instead it is just an unnamed woman, and it is not Judas in the other versions, but all of the disciples. But in all three the meat of what Jesus says is the same. He says, "you won't always have me, but you will always have the poor," which basically is Jesus saying to them you are wrong, get off her back, she is serving me, which is good, and you are out of order for challenging her. That is the common thread.
And today there is another well known version of the story that includes an even different take. Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Weber's Rock Opera, "Jesus Christ Superstar" immortalizes this exchange in the famous song "Everything's Alright," you know, in this version, Mary is Mary Magdalene, (I know there are so many Marys, so why not conflate them all), and she sings: "Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to, problem's that upset you, don't you know, everything's alright yes everything's fine and we want you to sleep well tonight, let the world turn without you tonight." That is the famous chorus, but then in pipes Judas, much like in this John version, he says:

Woman your fine ointment
Brand new and expensive
Should have been saved for the poor
Why has it been wasted?
We could have raised maybe
Three hundred silver pieces or more
People who are hungry
People who are starving
Matter more
Than your feet and hair
 

And then Jesus replies:
 

Surely you're not saying
We have the resources
To save the poor from their lot?
There will be poor always
Pathetically struggling
Look at the good things you've got!
Think while you still have me
Move while you still see me
You'll be lost
You'll be so sorry
When I'm gone
 

So we have all these different versions and different takes, but the statement of Jesus still stands there looking us in the face and challenges us, challenging our notions of the truth, right and wrong, ethics, justice, etc. Here is why, we seem to feel sympathy for Judas here. It seems like his intentions are good. Helping the poor is good. It's all part of the Jesus mission right. I have come to bring good news to the poor. What could be better news to the poor than, hey you are not poor any more. We've taken our money and given it to you, so you don't have to be poor any more. Poverty is over, the cycle has been broken, take this money, go and be rich, be prosperous, fix yourself, money is the key, money is what you lack, therefore money should fix the problem, right. . . sure, if that is not what we are about, Jesus, what are we about? Aren't we about making the poor not poor anymore? But here we get out of Jesus' mouth saying, "you will always have the poor with you?" Really, Jesus. .  . why?
This right here is why the version in John's Gospel is so interesting because Judas is the disciple singled out as this voice for justice for the poor, and not only that, throughout you get all these parenthetical reminders about Judas. Look at verse 4, it says, " But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him)". . . there it is "the one who was about to betray him" there as a parenthetical addition. Then in verse 6 you get another one, "(He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.)" It seems like John's gospel is trying to downplay Jesus' rebuke by having it singled out to Judas, the easy blame worthy scapegoat, as if Jesus really didn't mean to say that the money could not have been used better in helping the poor, but just that Judas' intentions weren't to help the poor, but to help himself. It is quite an interesting take, and if that is the case, though,  why do the other gospels not do the same? And why all the additional naming of characters, tying it to the Lazarus raising, Mary and Martha, and the rest? Were the disciples, especially the Gospel writer John, just as uncomfortable with Jesus' proclamation about the poor as we are?
Did they think that Jesus' words could be misunderstood? As I was doing my research, the history of the use of this text is not great. It has been used to excuse Christians not caring for the poor, that Jesus gives us an out, an excuse, saying that caring for the poor is a waste because you can never fix the problem, so why bother? Many churches have used such an interpretation throughout the history to gild over a selfish stewardship of funds, like building huge cathedrals on the backs of the poor, or expanding the building while ignoring the needs of people around them. Somehow I think this is irresponsible and that Jesus would offer to that thinking a similar rebuke as he gives Judas.
There must be more. I want to forget that it's Judas for a second, which isn't hard to do since in the other versions of the story it isn't Judas. The reason I want to is because of all the parenthetical baggage that the character of Judas seems to bring to the table. I want to instead look at what is done and what is said, to get at the bottom of what Jesus is actually saying and responding to. Now look at the situation. You have a woman who has spent money on really expensive, luxurious anointing oil. The text says that it cost, or could have earned them "300 denarii" which a footnote in my Bible says was equal to an entire year's salary for a wage laborer of the time, so it is pretty expensive stuff, certainly a luxury item, extravagant. . . wasteful? Do the disciples have a point? Ok hold off, more details.
The woman uses her extravagant oil not for herself, but to anoint and wash the feet of Jesus, there she sits in a humble place of personal service. Now the disciples chime in, "why was this perfume not sold and given to the poor?" Think about it though, whose perfume was it? Theirs? No hers. What right do they have to decide what her offering and her gift should be? Is this the place of the rebuke? How arrogant of them to tell her what she should do? Is this what Jesus gets upset with? Or is it more? Keep that in mind. . .
Now I want to get to our troublesome line. Jesus says, "Leave her alone, you will always have the poor with you." Where is Jesus really going with this? I don't think that it is that we should forget about the problem of the poor because there is nothing we can do, that just doesn't sound in line with the rest of Jesus' teachings. So what is it? I keep coming back to the idea that Jesus seems to be saying it is not enough. Is it that the 300 denarii isn't enough? Maybe, though a lot of money for one person it wouldn't cure the complete concept of poverty, but you can hear the disciples coming back with, yeah but you gotta start somewhere right. . . or as my dad told me yesterday when he saw the overwhelming state of mess in our basement, that I had said was such a big job to clean we just can't get started, he said, "Well you know the only way to eat an elephant right, one bite at a time." Sure isn't this a start? Jesus, isn't this something? To which Jesus I think would respond, as he does often to the disciples, you just don't get it, I don't mean the amount of money being enough, I mean your overall attitude. This ain't no elephant, and you can't eat it all, you can't afford it, there will never be enough money, you don't have enough yourself, and even commandeering other people's money, as you are trying to do here just isn't enough. . . but don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it's hopeless, it just takes more than money.
Wait, more than money? I thought being poor means, one without funds, empty pockets, empty stomachs, not enough money. . . how can the solution be more than money, if they don't have money, wouldn't giving them money be the answer then Jesus?
Now let's bring Judas back. Many believe that Judas betrays, not necessarily out of greed, but out of a sense of disillusionment over Jesus' mission. Is it that Judas saw things in these literal practical ways. Think about it, problem with the poor is that they don't have money, solution give them some. Problem with Israel is that it is occupied by Rome, as it had been previously by Greece, Persia, and Babylon, all since the kingdom and dynasty fell, solution Messiah, whose job it would be to solve the problem, ie, get rid of the Romans, how by war, the only earthly practical solution. In both of these Jesus seems to say no, neither is enough. To get back to Jesus Christ Superstar, it is this type of thinking that the Judas character says, "Your follower's are blind, too much heaven on their minds, no talk of God then, we called you a man." In other words, Jesus haven't you gotten off mission? Let's be helping the poor and let's be getting rid of the Romans.
Do you ever think like Judas, wouldn't it have been better if Jesus had over thrown Rome and set up a benevolent government, a kingdom, a Utopia, a kingdom of God on Earth, Legislating Justice for all, decreeing goodness, and mandating that we love each other. Wouldn't that be easier and more practically effective, more immediate? But there is that problem. . . can you mandate love? Isn't that the issue, part of the whole free will thing? That love by definition must be free? What is necessary for goodness in the world is changing hearts, and you just can't legislate a heart to be changed.  
So it takes more, it takes sacrifice, it takes example, it takes the gift of love, in other words it takes the cross. Why would the problem of poverty be cheaper? If the problem of oppression took sacrifice and the cross? Why would the problem of poverty be able to solve with anything less? Taxes, welfare, socialism, capitalism, more jobs, a better economy, those are the solutions we hear thrown around for poverty, but history shows that none of them work. They all ignore the need of personal sacrifice and changing of hearts. They allow that love to be outsourced to others, like saying hey, Mary, you should give your oil up so we can give it to the poor. Jesus says, "no" more is needed.
A change of heart is necessary, not just of the poor but of the rich, not just of the recipient of the love, but in the giver. . . you can't take someone else's sacrifice, claim it as your own and demand that they give it in a different way. No you have to give of yourself and give of yourself completely. Mary symbolically does this, there prostrate washing the feet of Jesus, what could be a more humble and intimate gift. Foreshadowing of Jesus doing the same for each of the disciples. True change, true solution takes everything you are, intimately and personally, not just everything you have. It needs to be personal and it needs to be sacrifice, and you only have a short time to learn this from me, because I'm not going to be around forever, I'm heading to the cross, this anointing oil is symbolic of that which will be put on with me after death, I'm going away soon, so pay attention now.
It is extra cool that today is St. Patrick's day because Patrick is an example of this kind of love. Patrick was not a green beer swilling excuse for a party. Patrick was a missionary, and one to a rough part of the world, especially there and then in the 5th century. Ireland was rough and Ireland was brutal. Patrick saw poverty, saw violence, saw resistance, saw hatred, but he went into it and he sowed love. He was all in. . . and being all in made a difference. History remembers such people, the Mother Teresa's, the Martin Luther King, Jr.'s, those who give their lives completely, they do not solve the problem of poverty completely, but they give all, as Jesus does, certainly not enough, but all, inspiring those changes of heart, and then faith is there that the kingdom of God is in that giving of all, and that overall future is in God's loving hands. . .and in that is real and true and frankly our only hope.
I want to conclude this sermon this morning with the end of Patrick's Prayer, his breast plate his armor; after going through binding to him the amazing protecting power of Christ and of God, recounting the wonders of them shown in the Bible he ends with:

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
 

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

 
Patrick saw the idea of giving all, knowing and protecting himself with the wonderful power of God, understanding the amazing power of love, and the infinite hope it brings, even in the darkest most seeming hopeless places in the world, where all is all you can give, but such is one of the names of Christ, All in All, truly enough. Amen.

 



[1]The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. 1989 (Jn 12:1-8). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Prodigal Father: A Tale of Two Brothers


“The Prodigal Father: A Tale of Two Brothers"
A sermon delivered by Rev. Peter T. Atkinson
March 10, 2013
at Gordonsville Presbyterian Church, Gordonsville, Virginia
Luke 15: 11-32
 

Let us pray,
Help us to see despite our eyes
Help us to think outside of our minds
Help us to be more than our lives      
For your eyes show the way
            Your mind knows the truth
            Your being is the life.
Amen. 

This morning the  Gospel reading is from Luke 15:11-32, the famous parable of Jesus, commonly known as "The Prodigal Son." I want to include the first three verses of Chapter 15, because it provides the audience for Jesus telling this story, which has some import in its interpretation, especially because it seems that who the audience is will help us see the issue that Jesus is trying to address. So verse 1-3, then 11-32. 

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
3 So he told them this parable:  

And Jesus tells three parables, one about a Lost Sheep, one about a lost Coin, and then this one:


11 Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” ’ 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.
25 “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’ ” [1]

This morning for me is one of those great times in the lectionary, where you get one of your favorite passages to preach on. I use Spotify alot, which is this music app that allows you to make playlists of pretty much any song ever recorded, and then listen to them for free as long as you are on your computer. It's amazing, so I make these long play lists of days and days of songs, then put it on random play, every once in a while you get one of those songs, where your like yeah, that's the stuff. You wouldn't have chosen to listen to it, or if you had it wouldn't be the same as it just happening outside of your control. It's so much better that way, it's like you get extra permission to enjoy it. This morning is kinda like that for me. I've thought often about this passage. I've taught Bible Studies on it. I've written two poems based on it, and one more that is loosely connected. I've used it to augment a sermon before, but I've never flat out preached on it, so I'm excited, and with an intro like that you have to deliver, so here goes.
I decided to title this sermon a little differently than you'd expect, giving the father the "prodigal" label, and including both sons, because this story is not just a story about one who has gone astray and has been redeemed, forgiven, and accepted, but much wider. It includes the effects such love, mercy, and forgiveness, the collateral damage, if you will. . . and the sadness of finding yourself seemingly on the outside of such love and forgiveness. There is much to this parable, and so instead of just, The Prodigal Son, I wish to rename the parable, "The Prodigal Father: A Tale of Two Brothers," and have done so as far as this sermon is concerned.
So why, the prodigal father? Doesn't prodigal mean reckless, lawless, without morals, without regard for others, wanton, etc. No, prodigal simply means "excess" or "excessive." You could say that the father in this story is certainly that. He doesn't just welcome his wayward son back into the fold, he doesn't just give him back his place at the table, he throws a huge party for him, and sacrifices, giving him the fatted calf, the prize piece of livestock, which would have had great value, it was a precious and limited commodity. This father does this, he also, seeing the son returning from far away, goes running, filled with compassion, out to him and he kisses him repeatedly. He loses all sense of propriety and control, overcome by joy and emotion and embarrassingly so. So that's the "prodigal" father.
Now let's take a look at the first son, the one who has typically been given the label prodigal throughout the history of the study of this parable. Now look at what this son does. The first thing that he does is asks for his inheritance early, which I've been told in the culture is like saying to your father, hey, I wish you were dead. Pretty bad, but the father does it. It says he divides up the inheritance between the them. So this begs the question. Is the inheritance all? Does this leave this father destitute and dependent on the other brother? Good question, and one we'll look at later. But so now this son, goes off with his share of the fortune, the passage says to a distant land and according to the NRSV "squanders his property through dissolute living." It's this word "dissolute" that I'd like to take a look at.
The reason is I think it is important to get at what really went down with this money, especially since the other brother puts his two cents in about it later on, he says to the father, that the brother "devoured his money with prostitutes." That is a high charge, but is that what happened? It all comes down to that word "dissolute." If you look at how other translations look at this, you see a pattern. The NIV says "wild living," the RSV says, "loose living," the Good News Bible says, "reckless" living, and the King James says, "riotous living," and as I've said already the NRSV says dissolute living, which I think gets closer to the point, but it's an interesting word study, and one that shows very truly the difficulty of translating the Bible from an Ancient Language to a Modern one.
Here is what I mean. The original Greek Word is "asotos" which if you look up it says sometimes, riotous, sometimes dissolute. Now if we look at the Greek word outside of this easy translation, and look at its parts  you see the "A" prefix, which means without, like in English Asymmetrical or Atheist, without symmetry, without God. So this is without, and then sotos, means wholeness. So literally this word means, living without wholeness. So dissolute makes sense, right, dissolute if you look at the parts would mean, not solvent, dis- the latin prefix for without, and then solute, like solvent, so living without solvency, outside of your means, etc. But if you look up dissolute in the dictionary you get: indifferent to moral restraints; given to immoral or improper conduct; licentious; dissipated. Why? Because English truly takes its meaning from two sources, Shakespeare and the King James Bible. It is hard to get at a true translation because our language is shaped by tradition, now the tradition in this story is to say that the younger brother squandered all his money by living this licentious, riotous, corrupt life, but what is the source for that? The Elder Brother, and 1. does he know? and 2. is that a detail that Jesus chose to mention in that way? It fits the narrative that the church wanted to present so it went, and frankly this narrative is very much in line with the Elder brother's perspective and not the younger ones, but what is Jesus' perspective. It is hard for us to get at it today what the real true aspect of the narrative is. I think you could easily translate asotos as without wholeness, or outside of his means, running up debt, etc., not necessarily filled with the immorality he is accused of by his brother. The next sentence could back that up: "When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need." So you are living outside your means and hard times hit and you need money. So he hires himself out, but to strangers, and thinks back to how his father had treated his men, so he decides to take a chance and try to work for his father not as a son, but as a hired hand. So he does, and we know the rest of that story.
So now to the other brother, the elder brother, the elder son, "presbuteros uios," do you hear Presbyterian in that? So he's out working and hears the commotion and asks a slave of the house, what is going on? The slave says, "your brother has come home and  your father has killed the fatted calf, and we are all celebrating because he is home safe". Let's return to the text to see the elder son's reaction. . .

Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’  

Do you hear that anger and bitterness there? He will not come inside to the celebration, he says that he has been working like a slave, never has the father thrown him even a lesser party, then he doesn't say my brother, he says, this son of yours, ouch, it's like a Cosby Show I remember when Theo got an earring and his mother was going to have Cliff, the father kill him, so when he gets home from work, she says, do you know what your son did? It's funny how when the child does something bad they always belong to the other. When Tulane, our dog wasn't housebroken yet, she was always my dog when she peed on the floor. So here this son is disowning his brother, and then accuses him of all wasting his money on prostitutes, which we've already questioned, especially how does he know, and can we trust his word on this, although it certainly fits that pharisaical moralistic narrative the church has been so fond of.
So here three characters: a prodigal and excessive father, a son who was lost and is now found, and then a son who has been there all the time, who now will not come in, is now on the outside. Ignoring any aspect of this story is missing much, so let's look at the audience now. The verses at the beginning of this chapter outline who is listening, and what the situation is:

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

3 So he told them this parable:

There it is, so he is speaking to the grumbling Pharisees and Scribes, who are complaining about, how "all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to him to listen." And he gives three parables, all showing how exciting it is for God when the lost become found, but it is this third one where he pushes the story further, and he includes his audience's point of view in the story. He is speaking to the Pharisees and the scribes, and they seem to best embody this elder son. So I ask you, who are you in the story? Which character are you closest to? The giving loving excessive father of forgiveness, the lost squandering soul, or the elder son, angry, bitter, and removed out in the cold?
Here is a telling aspect. . . How do you view the formerly known as prodigal, lost/now found son?  Do you judge him? Do you think to yourself, wow, he wasted his money spending it on prostitutes, what a weak soul? I would never. . . or can you begin to understand where he is coming from. . . living a little outside of his means, and has now caught up to him.
Here is another telling aspect. . . Do you see your life as fulfilling? Do you look to others who are living without your sense of duty and responsibility, and look at them with longing? Do you see everything  you do as being a slave, earning, grinding, dutifully fulfilling your sense of requirement, while others are being rewarded for nothing? How does such injustice make you feel? Do you want to live in a world with a Prodigal Father. . . a Prodigal God?
Here is the rub, Jesus is here saying that we do live in such a world with such a God. You don't get a vote. This is how God is. Loving, forgiving, excessively so, so overcome with emotion at the thought of your redemption that he will come running and meet you at the gate, bestowing you with gifts. Two questions loom in this parable, and it is precisely these questions that Jesus is asking those grumbling scribes and pharisees, and they both deal with humility. 1. Can you humble yourself enough to return to a father who has given you all, and ask for more? And 2. Can you handle it when he treats others that way, too? I hope so because that is the way it is. . .
I said that I wrote two poems that are based directly on this parable, you can find those two in the insert in your bulletin. I'd like to close with the third, which loosely deals with the same topic. It's called Mercy: 

Fairness does not survive in a world of grace
For it would be fair and just to punish us
For we fall far short of the standard. 

It makes us question the divine wisdom of one,
Who creates a world that makes no sense
To us for we cannot fathom mercy. 

Mercy takes away the limits that comfort us,
Finding peace in control, in order, in symmetry,
Blind to invisible order outside of our plans. 

We need limits because we are created finite.
At some point, though we push, there is the end.
It takes mercy and love and faith and 

God out of our plausible categories. To truly
Understand God, our must be put aside
Leaving only the eternal mercy of the infinite

Another word for infinite is excessive, prodigal, eternal mercy of a prodigal God is the way of the universe. May we be at peace in such a world. Amen.



[1]The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. 1989 (Lk 15:11-32). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Fruit and Repentance


Fruit and Repentance
A sermon delivered by Rev. Peter T. Atkinson
March 3, 2013
at Gordonsville Presbyterian Church, Gordonsville, Virginia
Luke 13: 1-9
 

Let us pray,
Help us to see despite our eyes
Help us to think outside of our minds
Help us to be more than our lives      
For your eyes show the way
            Your mind knows the truth
            Your being is the life.
Amen. 

13 At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. 2 He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? 3 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. 4 Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? 5 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”
6 Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ 8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’ ” [1]  

I'm pretty sure that starting a sermon is the hardest part of writing it. You find yourself getting into patterns and stock openings. This morning I wanted to jump write in because that seems to be what Jesus does. There is some news that comes to him. Some bad news. Some tragic news. Some news about Galileans being killed. Galileans, Jesus' own people, the people of Jesus' Disciples. And by Romans, by Pilate, by those horrible evil occupiers that the disciples and others of Jesus' followers are hoping to be free from, many of them hoping that Jesus will free them from, for that is what messiah means to them, what Christ means to them, and what they are hoping Jesus (salvation) means to them. An end to senseless slaughters like this one, and while performing a religious observance as well. Truly horrible news. You've got to think that they are waiting for Jesus to get fired up, to get Jesus angry, to finally get Jesus on that Jerusalem conquering and restoring warpath they all await, but that is not what we get. We don't get Jesus the revolutionary, Jesus the militant, instead we get Jesus the teacher, taking this tragedy as a teachable moment.
Instead of getting upset, Jesus asks a question in this passage, and I think it is an important one. Here it goes, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?" That question is pretty loaded. Think about it, if the answer to that question is affirmative, which must have been the understood norm Jesus was deciding to challenge by saying his "No, I tell you!" But think about what it would mean if the answer were yes, I could think of 3 main global truths. 1. The punishment for sin is death, therefore the people who died must have been sinners. 2. The worse of a sinner you are the more definite, immediate, and full of suffering is your death. 3. Pilate is the hand of God's judgment. Those are three pretty big statements.
Is that how we think? Perhaps, think about why that is a positive, comforting, brand of religious thinking. It's neat and logical, and makes sense, doesn't it? Seems like tight justice, fairness, that whole bit, but also it makes us feel good, it makes us feel safe, it makes us feel as if we are ok, because hey we are alive. It was them after all and not us who felt the swift sting of justice. With that thinking, you can feel pretty good, feel pretty safe, until you die, until it is you, but that's not today after all. The other thing it lets you do is compare yourself. You get to compare your bad stuff against others. You can always find someone who is worse than you. Well I may be bad, but at least I'm not like so and so down the street. I may have not prepared for this test, but hey at least I didn't cheat on it. I may have taken a pack of gum, but at least it wasn't money,  I may have gotten in a fight once or twice, but at least I haven't killed anyone. I know those aren't the best examples, but you see what I mean. Maybe smaller examples would be better, more at home and more hard hitting, so I hold a grudge, at least I didn't do what that person did all those years ago; so I gossip a little bit, at least I'm not the one out there doing that; yeah I may It's easy to compare in that world, to compare and become complacent. There is such a thing as enough, in that world. Is that what Christians think God is about still these days? Is that sometimes what we think? Does is show on our faces? Is that where our mind goes in the face of tragedy? Is that why Jesus pipes up and asks the question to the disciples? Would he to us? Does he to us, often?
The thing is, Jesus answers that question in the negative. He answers his own rhetorical question. I ask myself how long of a pause was there in between. As a teacher when I ask a question I usually give a little time for it to sink in. A little time for the outspoken kid to jump into my trap, was Jesus waiting for old loud mouth Peter to chime in? No luck, how long does Jesus wait? Then he says, "No, I tell you." Then he brings up another major disaster, and asks the same question? "Do you think they were worse defenders than others living in Jerusalem?" And again, "No, I tell you, but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did."
Here is where tend to grow uncomfortable with Jesus. Repentance talk is bad enough, you know, hey change. How does that feel? But then Jesus goes to the other place, the place of perishing, the end of the road, the day it all comes due, the day of reckoning, the end of the fiscal year, the end of the term, the deadline, when you run out of turns, game over, without the chance to put in another quarter to continue, no more second chances, the music's over turn out the light, stick a fork in it, strike three, April 15th, game day, exam day, which is where I've been this week, or hey, sequester. . . that's the Armageddon word being thrown around recently. Perish, unless you repent, and change, that is all she wrote, the fat lady has sung. We are always uncomfortable with this, especially in such black and white terms. It is so final. We don't like final, not for us, not now, all the people we see ourselves as better than must go first. Right? Right?
Jesus goes on to tell a parable.

“A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ 8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’ 

So not that we have looked at some of the context here, let's look at what is going on in this parable. He seems to go into more depth on the perishing, but not much comfort in it is there. We have to add now to all the images of the end. . . the axe through the tree. We gave it time, we gave it fertilizer, we gave it every opportunity, now cut it down. Yeah, Jesus we get it, repent or it's over.
Would Jesus need to illustrate such a point? Although it is uncomfortable for us, we understand the concept of everything being over, caput, capish? We get that. IF they truly felt about the reward for sin being death, they really didn't need this teachable moment, but Jesus does it anyway. There must be more. Wouldn't you know it, there is. . .
Jesus was refuting those three perceived truths about the world. Remember the safety we found in believing ourselves better than others, and in such a way safe. Now he has taken that away, but what does he replace it with? Look at the image he chooses. A fig tree, and whether it bears fruit. This is important.
Bearing fruit turns the game around doesn't it. No longer is it about, hey well I may be bad, but I'm not as bad as so and so. Now it comes down to hey you're a fig tree, do you bear fruit or not? Not are figs better than oranges. Not whether figs sell as good as bananas, not whether you like Fig Newtons or those Apple Newtons they tried to sell a bunch of years ago. I remember them, they were always there at my grandparent's house, sitting on the counter behind the TV that spun around to face the kitchen and the living room. No now the standard is, you are a fig tree, do you produce figs? If so great, if not let's get in gear. Now this becomes about how great you can be, not whether you had a few missteps along the way. It's no longer about doing enough. Have you ever noticed how living according to law is living by a bunch of minimums, but living according to virtue is infinite. There is no limit.
Just to illustrate the point further, directly after this conversation, Jesus heels a woman, who had been possessed by a Demon for 18 years, but he does it on the Sabbath. The Pharisees are shocked and upset. Jesus calls them hypocrites, but think of it from their perspective. They have based their goodness on this, their better than others, if that standard would be taken away how good would they be, how comfortable in their sinless status would they be? Instead here Jesus makes them stand instead on their fruits, and they don't like it. They are no longer comforted by their religion.
A couple of weeks ago I talked about Edmund Spenser's story about the Red Cross Knight, and how he faced the wood of error where everything seemed to be right but ended up being wrong. His errors lead him to the cave of despair. This is what the guardian of that cave says to him:

"Wretched man! you are the cause of this man's death. It is only just that you should pay the price of his life with your own. . .  Does not justice teach that he should die who does not deserve to live? . . . "What is the good of living?" said Despair. "The longer you live the more sins you commit. All those great battles that you are so proud of winning, all this strife and bloodshed and revenge, which are praised now, hereafter you will be sorry for. Has not your evil life lasted long enough? He that hath once missed the right way, the farther he goes, the farther he goes wrong. Go no farther, then--stray no farther. Lie down here and take your rest.

Doesn't this sound familiar this morning to our three truths? The problem in the cave of despair is giving up and committing suicide  by being overrun by guilt. Our hero is about to succumb to to it, when he is rescued by the lady Una, again, who represents Christian Truth. She says to him:

"Fie, fie, faint-hearted Knight!" she cried. "What is the meaning of this shameful strife? Is this the battle which you boasted you would fight with the horrible fiery Dragon? Come, come away, feeble and faithless man! Let no vain words deceive your manly heart, nor wicked thoughts dismay your brave spirit. Have you not a share in heavenly mercy? Why should you then despair who have been chosen to fight the good fight? If there is Justice, there is also Forgiveness, which soothes the anguish of remorse and blots out the record of sin. Arise, Sir Knight, arise and leave this evil place."

This works, it pulls him out of it. Look at what she says. "Is this the battle which you boasted you would fight with the horrible fiery dragon? Why should you then despair if you've been chosen to fight the good fight?" Stop thinking about your sins and your past, stop comparing yourself to others, stop thinking that way, and be about your quest, your duty, your call. You are a fig, bear fruit. It is such you will be judged on, and on failing to do will you perish. There is comfort to be had, but it is from duty and call.
So we don't ask what others are doing? How others behave? We don't compare ourselves, instead we have to ask ourselves what kind of tree we are, and then get busy bringing that tree to fruit. Or to translate, we have to ask what is your calling, and when do you start living it, for each and every one of us has one, though they each may be different, and since they are different it is not to others you should look, but instead to the gardener. May the gardener help us all. Amen

 

 



[1]The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. 1989 (Lk 13:1-9). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.