Sunday, September 23, 2018

Sermon: Dispelling monsters and loving the weak (Sept 23, 2018)


Pentecost 18B
September 23, 2018
Mark 9:30-37

INTRODUCTION

            The past few weeks, we’ve been chugging along through Mark’s Gospel without skipping much. This week, though, we’ve skipped a few things. Last week we heard about Peter’s confession, as he named that Jesus is in fact the Messiah they have been waiting for. Jesus responded by saying, “Yes, and also the Son of Man has to suffer and die.” Peter didn’t think that was such a good thing to be talking about (a Messiah should be strong, not suffering!), and he rebukes Jesus, and Jesus turns around and rebukes him right back, accusing him of putting his mind on human things, not divine things.
            From there, and here’s the part we miss, Jesus heads up the mountain, where the disciples witness Jesus’ transfiguration – you know, where he turns bright white, and Moses and Elijah appear with him and a voice from heaven says, “This is my Son, the beloved. Listen to him!” It’s the first time they really hear who Jesus is. Of course, in keeping with his pattern in Mark of not wanting anyone to know who he is, Jesus tells them not to tell anyone, and they head back down the mountain.
That event, the Transfiguration, is, in each Gospel, the point where Jesus starts really heading toward the cross. As they head down the mountain, Jesus, who they now know is the Son of God, will predict once again his death – not unlike the prediction we will also hear from Jeremiah in a moment. Peter doesn’t rebuke him this time, but the disciples still don’t seem to quite know what to make of these things Jesus says. In fact, in Mark, Jesus’ disciples are characterized as especially clueless, never really understanding what Jesus is all about – yet willing to follow him nonetheless. It’s sort of funny to witness, but also quite telling, for in the disciples’ sheer ignorance and humanness, Mark allows us to see quite a bit of ourselves and our own folly in them. So let’s listen to how they respond, and how Jesus then responds to that.
[READ]
 
by Jesus Mafa

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
We’re at a point in Grace’s development, where she has become convinced that our house is full of monsters. It’s a veritable infestation of monsters – in my room, her room, the living room, the yard, and obviously, in the potty. Despite that I made for her a “monster dispeller” (a wand), it is still a real problem. These monsters are everywhere. (If anyone has a number for a good monster exterminator, let me know!)
It’s pretty cute out of the mouth of a 3 year old, and though it can be fun to play along (running and hiding, or fighting back bravely, whatever), in the end the child’s fear of monsters is easy to dismiss, at least for the grown-ups in the room. We know there is no such thing as monsters, and so we are in a good position to hold the children tightly, assure them they are safe, tell them there are no monsters (and that even if there were, Jesus would no doubt defeat them handily), and get on with our day.
Yes, children’s monsters are easy enough to dispel. Not so much the monsters we face in adulthood. I resonate with Jesus’ disciples on this one, as they are walking along with a very big, hairy monster on their backs: Jesus’ second prediction of his death. Can you imagine? They’re on a Transfiguration high, having just witnessed it on the mountain. They have heard the voice of God telling them that Jesus is, in fact, the Son of God, and they should listen to him. And then, they come down the mountain and at almost the first opportunity, what he tells them is, “I’m going to be betrayed and die and rise again.” Can you imagine the fear and uncertainty they must be feeling? The insecurity? They have given up a lot for this guy who they believed, as we learned last week, was the Messiah, and so what would it mean for them if these predictions were true – that Jesus would be betrayed and die? And what could it possibly mean that he would rise again? Was this metaphorical? Or was he serious?
I have long thought the disciples’ response to this prediction – to begin bickering with one another about who was the greatest – was a strange one. Why would they go from a heavy prediction like this one, to immediately arguing over some petty thing like “who’s the best?” But as I have grown older, and experienced more of the human condition, I actually think it is just right. Of course they change the subject, and think about something else entirely. Who wants to dwell in their fear? Of course they argue about who is the greatest. If they can convince others that they are great, they can ignore how fearful and insecure they feel. Of course they pick a fight with their comrades. Don’t we all, when we are feeling afraid, sometimes lash out at the people who matter most to us?
Of course the monsters we face in our lives are a bit different, though they have a similar effect. There are plenty of things in life from which we’d rather change the subject, and pretend they don’t exist. I don’t want to hear about clergy sexual abuse, for example, or any sort of sexual abuse of a minor, or an adult for that matter. I don’t want to hear about another mass shooting. I don’t want to hear about the 500 kids still in detention centers at the border, whose parents can’t be found. I don’t want to hear about another person I love being diagnosed with cancer. I don’t want to hear about an infant and mother killed when a tree falls on their house during a hurricane, nor that such bigger, wetter hurricanes are the new normal as a result of warmer ocean temperatures. And that’s just some stuff you can read in the news. Never mind the insecurities we may feel in our jobs, in our abilities, in our failures that we deal with every day. These are monsters from which I want to change the subject. They are monsters that sometimes make me lash out at my loved ones, in fear and discouragement. They are even monsters that threaten to make me feel worse about myself, and beat myself up, and then compensate by trying to make myself look extra good – if others believe it, I think, maybe I can believe it, too.
Yes, these monsters can bring out the worst in us, just like the disciples’ own fear about Jesus’ and their uncertain but inevitably painful future brought out the worst in them. Worse yet, these monsters can block our ability to see how to live a faithful life. They set us off track, distract us from our calling as children of God. That is the issue that Jesus addresses in his response. He turns their attention away from their own fears, their own belly buttons, their own inward thinking, their own insecurities, and back toward what a life of faith looks like. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all,” he says. With this, he flips greatness right on its head! No more is greatness defined by blustery arguments about being great, even, the greatest, the best. No more is it measured by how much money we have, or what we can get away with doing without consequence, or by how powerful we are. It’s not even measured by our ability to avoid monsters. It is measured instead by selflessness, by a willingness to serve another’s interests before our own. It is measured by surrounding ourselves not with people we believe to be strong and powerful, but rather, by finding the weakest and most vulnerable, and standing by them – indeed, by seeing in them the very face of God.
Who would that be, in our world today? Who would be the weakest and most vulnerable? In Jesus’ day, it was a child. Children in the first century were not highly thought of – they had little value, no power, few rights, and were completely dependent. They were seen as useless. So Jesus lifted up a child. Who would Jesus lift up today, and tell us to welcome in his name?
Perhaps it would still be a child – maybe a refugee child left in a detention center with no parents. “Welcome this child in my name, and you welcome me.” Perhaps it would be a child who is a victim of abuse by someone he trusted, or a child who is unsure of where her next meal will come from. “Welcome this child in my name and you welcome me.” Perhaps Jesus would have embraced a woman escaping an abusive husband, or a father who lost his daughter in a school shooting. Maybe he’d lift up the grieving mother whose black son was shot in her own backyard, who doesn’t feel her voice or her pain is being heard by the country she loves. Perhaps Jesus would lift up an older couple whose home has flooded – again – and who have lost everything this time. Or maybe he’d lift up a veteran who returned home from serving his country with PTSD and one less leg.
Jesus would lift up and embrace all the people in those monstrous stories from which we would rather change the subject. You see, Jesus will always point us toward the life of faith, the life in which we look for the most vulnerable among us, and rather than dismissing their stories, or saying, “That’s sad, but it doesn’t have anything to do with me,” we instead take the time to listen, to learn, and to stand with these most vulnerable. Jesus will always point us toward a life which heads for the cross – it heads there, and arrives there, but it does not end there. No, the story of the cross is a story that ends with resurrection, with finding new life in the suffering, with assurance that when we are brave enough to stand with the weak, we will find God there.
There are some monsters that we should try to avoid. But let us not avoid the monsters that are bringing down the beloved children of God who are most vulnerable. These are monsters we must face, armed with the best monster dispeller of all: the love of God, the assurance of God’s embrace, and the promise that with Christ, death will always be followed by new and abundant life.
Let us pray… Vulnerable God, you come to us in the weak, in those to whom the world would turn a blind eye. Keep us ever aware of who those people are, so that we might lift them up, and see in their faces the very face of Christ. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Sermon: Who is Jesus? (Peter's Story) (Sept. 16, 2018)


Pentecost 17B
September 16, 2018
Mark 8:27-38
James 3:1-12
Isaiah 50:4-9a

INTRODUCTION
            Today’s story from Mark is a major turning point, as Jesus first starts to reveal to the disciples who he is and his ultimate mission. But to understand that, we need to go back in time a little bit, to the beginning of Mark’s Gospel. The very first line in Mark’s Gospel is, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Sounds straightforward to our ears, knowing what we do now. But this statement would have read like a contradiction. That word we associate with Jesus, “Christ,” is a powerful title. Another word meaning the same thing is, “messiah”; both words mean, “Anointed one.” Christ, or Messiah, was a word that referred to a powerful ruler or leader, one who would be a savior, who would overcome and deliver people from their enemies. This is the word Peter will use to answer Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” But Mark tells us Jesus is both “Christ,” Messiah, and the Son of God. And Son of God has a very different connotation. The Son of God is one who suffers, like the so-called “suffering servant” we will hear about in our first reading, from Isaiah, and one even who dies.
Let’s try something. [Have one side say Messiah, the other say Son of God, back and forth.] And so while Peter is more than willing to proclaim Jesus as Messiah, Christ, Savior, strong, winner… he is less willing, as we will see, to even entertain that Jesus is also Son of God, the one who suffers.
            Now, of course, we have a bird’s eye view of this Messiah/Son of God dichotomy, in which Jesus is both the suffering servant who dies for us, and the triumphant Savior who overcomes the enemy. But Peter and his buddies did not have that bird’s eye view. So as you listen to the readings today, and especially the Gospel, keep in mind that they don’t know the end of the story, and think about how you would have answered Jesus question if you were there.
[READ]

            Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
            It had been a pretty crazy few months for a bunch of fisherman… Really, it had been a pretty crazy few months for anybody. Just think of Peter – to go so immediately from spending his days fishing on the Sea of Galilee – a pretty mundane job, when you get down to it – to following Jesus around. It was a risky choice, to follow Jesus, but Peter didn’t regret it. Leaving his boat behind led to adventures he could never have imagined. Jesus was a teacher unlike any the disciples had ever seen. He taught with such authority, and had a new spin on every teaching anyone had ever held dear. And the healings! All he had to do was say the word and blind people were seeing, lame people walking, demons were scattering – it was incredible. He kept telling the disciples not to tell anyone what they’d seen – they weren’t sure why. It was like he wanted to keep the whole thing a secret, but anything he did was far from a secret! Everyone knew about him – even when they went to new villages, people were bringing their sick friends and family to Jesus to be healed. The word was out.
Watching all this stuff, Peter really knew Jesus was something pretty special – and so he kept following! He didn’t want to miss a thing! And let me tell you, there was lots to see – they saw Jesus walk on water, and still a storm, they saw him feed 5,000 people, no joke, with only a few loaves of bread and some fish… Each day with Jesus was another marvelous surprise.
Peter found himself wanting to be the best of his disciples, Jesus’ favorite, the one who understood him. Peter watched so carefully everything Jesus did and said. He knew that when it came down to it, Jesus was going to change the world.
            Now, Peter grew up Jewish, and so he and his people were always hoping and waiting for God to send a Messiah. Since David’s son Solomon, Israel as a whole hadn’t had another king, someone to defeat the enemy, unite Israel and bring peace on earth. So they believed that God would send a messiah, an anointed one, to rule once again over Israel. And Peter – Peter really wanted to believe that Jesus was that messiah.
            One day they were all walking toward Caesarea Philippi, and Jesus suddenly asked them, “Who do people say that I am?” Ah, Peter thought, so he DOES know that people are talking. Even though Jesus was always telling people not to tell about what happened, they all knew how the gossip had spread. The disciples were eager to share what they’d heard: “Some people are saying you’re John the Baptist!” the guys said. “Others think you’re Elijah. Oh, and still others think you’re one of the prophets.” I mean, they were all good guesses, as far as Peter could see. But he knew none of them was correct. Then Jesus stopped them all in their tracks. “Who do you say that I am?” Suddenly the disciples weren’t so eager to answer! That always happens – it’s so easy to talk about what everyone else thinks and says, but when you have to divulge your own secret thoughts, suddenly it is risky, and no one is quite so eager. The group fell silent. Peter took a breath. “This is my chance!” he thought. “I can try out my theory, and if I’m right, Jesus will know I’m the most devoted, most faithful disciple!”
“You’re the Messiah,” Peter ventured. The other disciples looked at him, stunned. “Did I really just say that?” Peter thought. “Could I have been so hopeful as to say this man was the messiah?” They all held their breath and looked at Jesus, waiting. To Peter’s surprise and delight, Jesus seemed satisfied with his answer! So it was true! But then Jesus told them not to tell anyone of this fact. He was so stern, so serious. He really meant it this time! They walked the rest of the way in silence, but Peter was filled with hope. Jesus was it, the Anointed one! He was the one who would finally save them from their enemies! He was the Davidic Messiah they had hoped he would be! They were saved!
            As always happened, Jesus and the disciples were met by a crowd. Of course, Jesus took this opportunity to start preaching. Usually he would preach using stories (which were often pretty confusing, but he always explained them to the disciples later). This time, though, he was saying some other stuff – weird stuff. He was talking about how the Son of Man would have to undergo great suffering, and how everyone would reject him, and he would die and then rise again in three days… The way he was talking, it was pretty clear he was talking about himself. It made Peter very uncomfortable. To be honest, he was embarrassed for Jesus. This was no way for the all-powerful Messiah to be talking! All the people who had run out to hear him teach were now looking at each other with that look in their eyes that says, “Is this guy for real?” Even some of his own disciples were looking pretty uncomfortable about even being there.
Peter felt just terrible for Jesus. And to be honest, he also felt scared – he had put his confidence in a strong Messiah, a winner – not someone who would ever think of suffering! How could someone who would talk so openly about suffering and dying be their savior? No, no, this would never do.
Perhaps feeling extra sure of himself for having known Jesus was the Messiah, and thinking that now, he and Jesus must have this special bond, Peter pulled him aside. Jesus looked at Peter, surprised. In a hushed voice, Peter explained, “Listen, Jesus, I’m not sure people are ready to hear these things. All this talk about rejection and suffering and dying – that’s no way to convince people you are the Messiah! They’re going to think you’re crazy! Why don’t you just cool it for a while on this suffering and rejection stuff, and focus instead on the healings, maybe another miraculous feeding. That stuff always goes over pretty well with the crowd.”
            Peter would never forget what happened next. Jesus shrugged Peter’s hand from his arm, looking at him with fire in his eyes. “Get behind me, Satan!” he said. Peter was shocked. What? He was trying to help! Jesus went on, “You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” It took Peter a moment to really hear what Jesus had just said. Human things? Jesus was embarrassing himself, people were starting to laugh at him. Peter had simply stopped it from going on. Peter was the good guy here!
In that moment, something Peter remembered hearing growing up, from the prophet Isaiah, flashed in his mind: “The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward. I did not hide my face from insult and spitting. Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together. Who are my adversaries? Let them confront me.” Adversaries. That’s what “satan” meant – adversary. One who stands between a person and God. Peter was that one, that one trying to stand between these people listening and Jesus, the one whom he had himself only just identified as the Messiah.
            Years later, James (who was one of the other disciples there) would write a letter. Peter couldn’t help but wonder if it was about him in that moment, so eager to say the right things, and yet, so ready to rebuke the very Son of God, the Messiah. James wrote, “No one can tame the tongue-- a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God.” So Peter had blessed his Lord Jesus Christ, eagerly wanting to follow him, to show him his loyalty and faith, to be a good disciple… but when it came to a situation where he was embarrassed for Jesus – and yes, embarrassed for himself for being with him – he was so quick to deny all that he thought he stood for, for the sake of maintaining an acceptable front. He had set his mind not on divine things, but on human things. No one can tame the tongue – with it, Peter blessed the Lord, and then, in the next moment, rebuked him.
As Peter tried to process these things, he could hear Jesus continue to preach. He was talking about denying ourselves and taking up our cross, about losing our life for his sake and the sake of the gospel. One line in particular stuck with Peter: “Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed…." Ashamed. Shame. That is what had gotten Peter to this point. He had been ashamed of Jesus, unwilling to stand up for what he knew to be true, as Isaiah so boldly did. He had let his tongue – always speaking before he really thought about what he was saying – get the best of him, and lead him down human paths, rather than toward God.
Peter held all these things in his heart as they continued down the road that Jesus walked. He held them as they watched him undergo the suffering he had predicted. He remembered them even as he heard himself deny Jesus again – three times – for fear of his own life. He held them as they watched Jesus being taken down from the cross. Shame. Jesus, he thought, I did not stand by you.
But then… That day, that phenomenal day when the women came running from the empty tomb to tell them Jesus had risen… Peter felt a weight lifted from his heart. He felt deep down that the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ was not ashamed of him, that he was, in fact, forgiven. Peter remembered how on that night, the night Jesus was betrayed by Judas, he had taken bread and wine, and given it to them to eat. Peter had felt so close to Jesus in that moment. He felt so close to him now, knowing that despite his very human nature, so eager to please but so slow to profess, he was still loved by God. And that love, that continual forgiveness of all his humanness – it gave meaning and purpose to all those years he had followed Jesus. It transformed his shame into hope, and it empowered him to spend the rest of his days openly and courageously professing the good news of Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God.
            Let us pray… Jesus, Messiah, you are our strong savior, and you are the one who gave everything for us. Make us grateful for you, and confident in you, that we would feel courageous enough to profess who and what you are without embarrassment or shame. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Friday, September 14, 2018

Three years of Grace


September 14, 2018

My bright and beautiful girl,

Ready for the "Families Belong
Together" Rally
You are three! Grace, I’m so excited. All my life I have wanted a three-year-old daughter. I don’t know why, that just always seemed like my jam. I’m so glad to have YOU as my three-year-old girl!

You are kind, funny, friendly, observant, creative, smart, enthusiastic, affectionate, and loving. You are also assertive and commanding, very sure of how things should be, and good at instructing people as to how to fulfill your vision. While you used to not be very affectionate, now you climb up into bed with me in the morning, snuggle down next to me, and kiss me on my face, my arm, wherever strikes you. Sweetly, you are also affectionate with trees – we walk home from daycare and you hug and kiss the trees along the way, which warms your NorCal Mama’s heart. You adore your brother and love to play with him, especially when it means telling him what he should be doing. (He’s so kind and adoring, he usually follows instructions willingly!) He wants so badly to do everything big sister is doing, and you do your best to help him do just that. Recently, you discovered jumping from the coffee table onto the couch, and when he couldn’t do it, you held his hand and showed him how, then called us in to watch what
Isaac can do. Maybe it wasn’t our best parenting choice to encourage this activity, but we so loved seeing how you helped Isaac, and how delighted he was about it.

You wave to strangers and say, “Hello!” Everyone is your friend. Before you’ve even met someone, you say, “There’s my friend! Can I go say hello to my friend?” You don’t know a stranger!

You speak in full sentences. We ask you how preschool was today and you say, “I had a pretty good day at preschool.” I love that. You just started at preschool and it really suits you. Your favorite things are the slide, and the new friends. We asked you what you would be learning at preschool this year, and you said, “My ABCDs.” And so you shall!

Exploring how the wind makes
the pinwheel move
You love school, and you also love church. Often, we pretend we are driving, and when I ask you where we are going, you say, “We’re going to church.” You have a love affair with Jesus, who is alternately in your belly, and in your heart. Your preschool is located at a church, and the first day we went you saw that there was a cross on the outside wall. You gasped. “There’s a cross on my preschool! It’s a church preschool!” I told you that the cross was a reminder that Jesus was with you at school, and you said, “Yes, Jesus is in my heart, and mommy and daddy and Isaac is in my heart, too.”

You love to sing songs! Lately you are really into Frozen and Moana, and so you often sing songs from those movies (and you especially love wearing the pink shiny cape and crown Dede made you when you play Elsa!). But you also love nursery rhyme songs, and church songs. You are singing all the time, and to my delight, you love to change the lyrics of songs to suit the situation, or just make up a song to express your desire (“I want a twist. I want a twist. I want I want I want a twist.”). You always seem quite pleased with yourself when you do this – as you should be! It shows a lot of creativity and a mastery of language, and I am SO proud of you. (A favorite adaptation recently was to the tune of 10 Little Indians, but you sang, “One little two little three little underwears…” as you were pulling your underwear on after going potty.)

First day of preschool
You are a wonderful mommy. You take such good care of your babies, comforting them when they cry, feeding them, pushing them around in their little stroller. One night, when we were sharing highs and lows and saying prayers, you said your low was that baby had cried a lot that day, and you prayed that baby wouldn’t cry so much tomorrow. You are so dear.

At age 3, you also struggle with some things. You desperately want to do things yourself, and often you can, but sometimes you can’t and we intervene and this is very frustrating for you. You don’t like when you don’t get to make the rules, and have gotten pretty ornery about that, especially at bedtime. You have so many emotions going on in your little heart, but can’t always make sense of them – that’s okay, adults struggle with this, too. We do our best to help you name those emotions, and to your credit, you are pretty good at it. I hope this serves you as you continue to grow into yourself. You’ve had a lot of change in your life recently, and you are trying to make sense of all that. These are Big Life Lessons, my sweet, and you are doing such a good job of trying to learn from them.

Walking with Baby Lisa
Just for posterity’s sake, here are some of your favorites, at age 3:
Color: pink and purple
Print/design: flowers, hearts
Movies: Frozen, Moana

Food: peanut butter and jelly, Cheerios and milk
Songs: Amazing Grace, Blackbird, Wheels on the Bus, Twinkle Twinkle, Take Me to the Water
Activities: Playground, swimming, playing in sand
Things to wear: dresses that spin around, blue shoes (with star cut-outs)
Hair: in two French braids, or an Elsa braid
Best friends: Isaac, Grace Elaine, Isla, cousin Laika

I love you and admire you more each day, my love. I’m so glad I get a front row seat to your budding self!

                                                                                    Love,
                                                                                    Mommy