Notes on Jacob

(These notes were my “back-up” reflection for Sunday 9/22/13. God delivered a much more intense word in reality. The audio is in this post.)

Genesis 27:1-4, 15-23; 28:10-17
            For me, the stories of Genesis begin to feel “real” when Jacob appears on the scene. I understand Abraham as the “Father-of-many” and father of our faith. I sympathize with Isaac- in the binding, in the grief of the death of his parents, etc. However, Jacob- wrestling within the womb, grasping all he can, wanting more than he can define clearly, and prepared to do anything to get it- Jacob is a truly fleshed-out character, a human being, a person who makes the Scriptures pop and sing. After all, why would this ancestor be included, with his cheating and tricky ways, except that through him, we understand (like many generations before us) that God is no respecter of persons.
            Jacob comes out of the womb clinging to Esau’s heel and spends the rest of his childhood trying to overtake him. An oracle is revealed to his mother, Rebekah, there were two nations in her womb and the younger would overtake the older. Whether this provokes her later actions or gives her an excuse for what she does, Rebekah doesn’t hold back from helping Jacob grab onto what’s not his.
            Of course, Esau doesn’t help. He is very willing to give into his human desires, too. A birthright, his right to inherit all his father’s material property, for a lentil stew- is this the decision of a model older sibling? Of course, we grieve for Esau when he loses out on Isaac’s blessing. This is not a mere “bless you, my child”- but a powerful blessing that conveys with it the covenantal relationship between God and Abraham that will now be passed to Jacob. God’s words brought this into being and Isaac’s words pass it to Jacob. He cannot withdraw these words once spoken.
            Jacob has to flee so that Esau will not kill him. He has both the birthright (his father’s property) and the blessing of an elder son, but he is afraid and alone. He sleeps on a rock- probably terrified for his life for the first time ever. In his exhaustion, he has a vision of heaven and God speaks to him.
            Jacob is granted the one thing he cannot grab for himself- God’s blessing. God shows him a glimpse of heaven and speaks to Jacob of what is to come. Jacob will own the land on which he currently sleeps. He will have many children. God’s own legacy will spread out through Jacob.
            And it does. It is neither Abraham nor Isaac who receive the name “Israel”. It is not Sarah or Rebekah who give birth to the man who will save the Hebrew people from starvation- it is one of the wives of Jacob. The people of Israel are named through Jacob. The 12 tribes of the nation come through Jacob. Much of the identity of what it meant to be an Israelite comes through Jacob- a man who wrestled that blessing from God.
            The story of Jacob tells us that God is in places we do not expect, as Jacob found out when he slept in the desert. More importantly, God is present in people we do not expect and God is using them in ways we do not expect. Additionally, God’s blessing is not something we can grasp for ourselves. No one is keeping it from us and we are not earning it through good behavior. It is God’s to give freely and God does so, through the power of the Living Word.
Amen. 

Sacrifice (Sermon 9/15/13)

Genesis 21:1-3; 22:1-14
            Sacrifice.
            The life of faith is one of sacrifice. That’s the truth of it. Sacrifice on the part of God and sacrifice on the part of those who trust God, who want to trust God, who work to trust God.
            Sacrifice.
            Frankly, in a religious system that requires those who believe to tell others- sacrifice is among the LEAST appealing words. No one sings, “I love to tell the story. It is fierce and gory/ To tell the old, old story/ of Abr’m and his son.” We are squeamish at the songs that are about blood, about sacrifice, about giving up all our things, about the less- than- stellar human rights record of the church and its equally dull historical response to evil.
            Sacrifice.
            It is also difficult to realize that even reading Scripture requires sacrifice. There are things that cannot all be true when we read Scripture as a whole. We all generally have a habit of considering certain stories more relevant than others. In so doing, we sacrifice what we don’t want to think about or what seems unimportant to what we prefer or seems more significant to us.
            Which brings us to the story of the testing of Abraham and the binding of Isaac. This is a terrible story, a horrific story, and, in general, the number one story cited by atheists as a proof for the rejection of God. What kind of God would do this?
            And I’m confronted with a dilemma- do I defend God (is God’s reputation mine to defend)? Do I laud Abraham? Do I give Isaac or Sarah a voice that’s otherwise not recorded in the scripture? And I have a very small amount of time, so I will be sacrificing many things I’d like to say.
            This story requires sacrifice from us. We can choose to sacrifice from among many things, but there are three main choices that we will lay upon the altar and prepare to offer up and away from us. We must either sacrifice the idea that this story is a historical fact or we must sacrifice the idea of a God who does not test through trauma or we sacrifice the idea of God’s perfect foreknowledge, that God knows what we will do before we do it.            
            The first sacrifice that we may make is the idea that all Scripture is a historical fact. The stories of Genesis and early Exodus, in particular, were first written down when the people of Israel were in exile. Some had been told for generations and generations, but others were organized during exile to give strength to the people. A particular story may not have actually occurred, but still contained an important truth that supported the life of the people who are doing the telling.
            Israel was likely alone among its neighboring nations in not practicing child sacrifice. Other groups of people may also specifically have had a practice of sacrificing the first fruits of all things- plants, animals, and children. Israel needed story, an explanation, for the way they did things- sparing the firstborn children, refusing to kill their infants. The story of the binding of Isaac reveals a way that could have happened- God set up a situation to make it clear to Abraham that child sacrifice was NOT the things were to be done.
            Maybe.
If this story is told during the exile- in Babylon or elsewhere- the people of Israel need to make sense of what’s happening to them and where God is in it. They perceive themselves to be the beloved of God, the firstborn of God’s plan, the vessels of God’s promises. They may be on the sacrificial altar of exile, but God will not let them be destroyed. Provisions will be made. Israel will not perish and the consolation story, the reminder tale, the encouraging word is a story going as far back as Abraham. God tested, but did not allow the beloved and longed- for son of Father-of-Many (which is what Abraham means) to die in the test.
If either of these constructions makes more sense to us than the idea that God would test Abraham in this way. Or that the man who argued on behalf of Sodom and Gomorrah wouldn’t speak up for his son. If either of these reasons for the story is more acceptable, we have sacrificed the idea of historical fact (for this specific scripture reading) for a transmission of cultural truth.
Several years ago, I was meeting with some of the parents of children who attend our preschool (the kids do, not the parents). We met because a preschool family- two parents and two little girls- had died in a small plane crash. I met with people to talk about their own grief and to help them know how to discuss this with their children. We had a long talk about where God might be in such a tragedy and what we could know and what we didn’t know. At the end of a good conversation, just before we prayed, one woman said, “I don’t know. I believe God does these things sometimes to test our faith.”
I just looked at her, thinking, “If God feels the need to kill a whole family just to test our faith, then I’m out. I’m done. No more.” What I said was, “Hmm… well, let’s pray.” Maybe we look at this story and we think, “This is not the word of the Lord for me. I can’t believe in a God who tests through trauma. I have come to trust that God may stretch me and push me and even hit me upside the head sometimes. However, a God that kills children, a God that would even suggest it, a God that creates and uses horrible and traumatic situations to bolster faith, which is supposed to be a gift- I can’t believe in that God. I won’t.”
Perhaps we read this story and we have to either sacrifice the idea of a God who wouldn’t test through trauma (meaning God did and God does). Or we trust that God tempers our faith, but the wretched things that happen in life are not a result of God’s desire to see us be more faithful. They are the result of our choice (sometimes), the choices of others (sometimes), and the forces that oppose God. If God tests through trauma, then God wants Syrian civilians to die. God expects great faith to come from 8 and 9 year-old girls who are given in marriage to 40-year-old men in Yemen. God is building enormous trust through the inequality and inhumanity that is our criminal justice system.
If we want to accept that this story is factual and significant to Scripture as a real event, we must accept that God made Abraham righteous, but also tested the limits of that righteousness. That if God will test through trauma one time, God would, could, and does do it again. Is that a sacrifice you’re willing to make, a belief you’re willing to accept? Because holding that to be true will prove to sacrifice a certain peace of mind about God’s will in which we’ve usually found peace.
The last, and hardest, sacrifice we might make with this story is the notion that divine foreknowledge is perfect. Maybe God knows the arc of how things will work out, but does not always know how we will respond. God made a series of very serious covenants with Abraham- promises that involved generations, land, and blessings. God didn’t make these promises to just anyone and maybe it was time be sure the choice was a good one. Before Isaac gets to the age of reproducing, before the generations really get rolling, before Abraham tries to pass Sarah off as his sister again (as he did twice before), God needs to be sure that Abraham is truly faithful, is trusting, and is worthy of the work God intends to do through him. And God tests because God does not know for sure.
How does that sit with you- the idea that God does not know what we will do before we do it? This is the ultimate definition of free will- that we are faced with a myriad of choices and responses to God’s actions (God always moves first). When human actions occur, God responds- using the Spirit to bring about good. If God already knows what we will do, then why would God be involved in the world at all now? God can retreat, sit on God’s lounge chair, and relax until whatever time it is that Jesus will return. If we sacrifice the idea that God has perfect foreknowledge, we are received, instead, into a relationship with an active and responsive God.
I haven’t explained the story of the binding of Isaac. I haven’t said a firm statement about why it’s there or what it means. I can’t. We come to this story and it does require sacrifice of us. We must either embrace it as a story with truth, but not facts. Or we must believe in a God who tests through trauma, among other things. Or we have to let go of the idea that God has predestined and knows every action. 
This story requires a sacrifice, but so does all faithful living. We must sacrifice the idea that we can save ourselves, that we are in control, that our goodness brings redemption, that sanctification (becoming more holy) happens through our willpower. We must sacrifice the idea that we can fully know and, in the ashes of that surrender, the peace that passes our understand can and does bloom.
We have welcomed Jax into a life that is mysterious, frustrating, and powerfully hopeful. And it’s full of sacrifices, starting with God’s own willingness to create, to be involved, to walk among us, and to pour out the Spirit in blessing and guidance.
Sacrifice.
            The life of faithfulness is one of sacrifice. That’s the truth of it. Sacrifice on the part of God and sacrifice on the part of those who trust God, who want to trust God, who work to trust God.
            Amen. 

Understanding Martha: We’re Doing it Wrong

Pentecost 9 (Year C)
21 July 2013
Genesis 18:1-10a; Luke 10:38-42
            With this cartoon in mind, I think that the common interpretation of this story might have been wrong for several hundred years. Each story in Scripture has three contexts, all of which we are relying on the Holy Spirit and God’s gift of reason to help us interpret. With today’s gospel reading, we have to determine what was happening when the actual event occurred, why the writer thought it was important to include over nearly fifty years later, and what God is saying to us today with regard to the story.
         When Jesus first came to Bethany and stayed with Martha and Mary, he already knows them. They are friends of his. Martha is apparently the older sister, since the house is listed as hers. Maybe there is some sibling rivalry between Mary and Martha (younger and older) or maybe Martha has always done most of the work. Regardless, Martha has begun the culturally appropriate tasks of preparing her home to host a guest (or several) and Mary is not helping. When Martha complains about her burden, Jesus tells her Mary has made a different choice.
         The implication of Jesus’ words is that what Mary has chosen is more important that what Martha has chosen. It doesn’t mean that Jesus doesn’t understand that dinner has to get made, but that Martha shouldn’t be consumed with what has to be done, but should instead focus on who she’s hosting. Having Jesus present means that the focus isn’t on what you can do for him, but what he does for you. Mary is learning from him, hearing his radical teaching,… she is actually paying attention to who their guest is, as opposed to what has to be done for a guest. Even when we hear this story this way, most of us still have a lot of sympathy for Martha and what it takes to get things done. We are able to understand, however briefly, what Jesus is saying about Mary.
         When Luke is writing sometime in the 70s A.D./C.E., the early church is struggling with what to say about the role of women. Are they able to sit and learn with men? Do they have the capacity? Is it appropriate? When Luke includes this story in that context, it is a rebuke to those who believe women are better suited to the tasks of hospitality at the edges of the early church, rather than the work of discipleship through learning (and maybe teaching!). Luke’s story makes the space for people to hear Jesus say that a woman learning is right and proper and even part of their duties as his followers. Luke understands the importance of hospitality and the work of the community, but it is not to be done solely by women to the exclusion of their ability to participate otherwise in the life of the community.
         When we hear that interpretation, we are a little more able to understand the meaning and the layers of the story. Furthermore, in that context, we are able to see how wrong later church interpretation has been around this story. How many years have Marthas- people who are on the go or active or who get things done- been denigrated instead of Marys- people who want to sit, perhaps let someone else do things, and who learn well in traditional classroom settings? How many women have felt frustrated and hurt by this story? How many women have been told that they can learn, but then they can’t teach? How many men feel frustrated by this as well, but left out because the parable mostly seems to be about women?
         And, in all this, what if we’ve been very, very, very wrong about what the parable means for us in our time? The following saints have their feast days in the coming week (among others): Macrina (early church monastic and teacher), Margaret of Antioch (martyr), Mary Magdalene, Bridget of Sweden (mystic), James the apostle, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Amelia Bloomer, Sojourner Truth, and Harriet Tubman, Bach, Handel, and Henry Purcell. None of these were content with sitting, but all worked… all were active in their faith- even in doubt- to the glory of God.
         Every single one of those people probably related more to Martha of Bethany than to her sister, Mary. By venerating Mary over Martha all these years, the church has mistakenly promoted the idea that orthodoxy (right thinking/teaching) will always trump orthopraxy (right practice). Jesus never expected anyone to sit at his feet forever, but to learn and to go out into the world- knowing he’s with them!
         The gift of the Holy Spirit is not so we can continue to brood over Scripture, waiting and hoping for complete clarity. If we understand anything at all, it is that the love of Christ compels us to go out into the world and live- asking God to help and guide us. We are called to the hospitality of Martha, without her worry, knowing that we will be hosting Jesus everywhere we go. We will be encountered by Christ in the store and the school, in music and in art, in knitting and in running, in cooking and in shopping, in study and in action.
         The lives of the saints teach us that the church has been carried forward not merely by Marys, but primarily by Marthas. Marthas who have learned that Jesus is for them as well. Marthas who cannot be still, but learn on the go and on the move. Marthas who appreciate the call of hospitality, but also know whom they are hosting and Who is hosting them. Marthas who compose, teach, learn, make, and wait on the Lord.
         Mary and Martha of Bethany… we’ve been thinking about them all wrong. The grace of God is for both doers and thinkers, for teachers and students, for active learners and introspective ponderers. The grace of God is for all of them. For all of us. And so is the work of the kingdom. Amen. 

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Pentecost 8 (Year C)
14 July 2013
Deuteronomy 30:9-14; Luke 10:25-37
Last night, as I was trying to get the baby to go to sleep, I heard the verdict in George Zimmerman’s trial. He was found not guilty of murder in the second degree. Last March, Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon Martin in an altercation. Zimmerman suspected Martin of trespassing or other wrongdoing and pursued him (against police advice and warning). They got into a fight and Zimmerman had a gun and used it.
Who was the neighbor?
             In 1973, a psychological experiment was conducted at Princeton Theological Seminary. Students were told they were in a study on religious education. They completed surveys about their own religious thoughts. Then they were given a task- to either talk about seminary jobs or to talk about the parable of the Good Samaritan. They were told to give the talk in another building. Some were told they had plenty of time, but others were told they were already late.
On the way to the other building, they passed a man moaning and calling for help. Regardless of their speech topic, students who thought they were late stopped 10% of the time. Only 10%. Those who thought they had plenty of time stopped 63 % of the time. Overall, 40% of the students offered some help to the victim.
Who was the neighbor?
The parable of the merciful Samaritan isn’t just a story with the upshot of being nice. It is not something we get to do when we have time (Princeton study) or when people are not frightening to us (Zimmerman/Martin story). It is the way we are supposed to live our lives. It is the essence of the commandment: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself
When I say the word commandment, we all get a little indigestion. A commandment sounds like something we know we should keep and at which we expect ourselves to fail. Well, what if we came to understand it in a different way? What if we came to hear those words as a blessing: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.
These words are a blessing, a gift from God, when we understand them to be one of the ways God is revealed to us through the Holy Spirit. It is not drudgery, not a task that we can ignore because we have received grace, not something we can wait on until we have time or money or both. To love God and to love our neighbor is God’s gift for this moment and every moment.
            We have lost the sense that the author of Deuteronomy is trying to impart: Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, “Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?” No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.
            In ancient Israel, the sea represents chaos and fear. In the passage, God’s commandments toward a just society, neighbor love, and worship life are neither stored in heaven nor far away in hell. You don’t have to extra pious to hear them or receive them. You don’t have to have an arduous journey or send an adventurer to retrieve them. The commandments are part of God’s blessing. Do we work for the blessing or does it come to us through Jesus Christ? Just as we aren’t striving for grace, we aren’t working for God’s laws. They are written all over us with the grace of God… and, just like the grace that we only begin to understand as we rely on it, the commandments begin to reveal our freedom as we follow them.
            My great-uncle, my paternal grandfather’s brother, died last month. My dad saw Uncle Max a week before he died and Max told him this story:
Sometime in the ’50s, Uncle Max and Cousin JE Dunlap went to Fayetteville to help JE’s sister on some project, maybe a move or building a porch. On the way home by way of Raeford, they came upon a couple of teenage Indian (Native American) boys selling watermelons. They stopped and discussed the virtue and price for a few moments before JE remarked what a nice farm it was and if they owned it, angling toward an invitation to come bird hunt. One of the boys said, “Mister, these watermelons are the only thing we have in this world.” Max and JE bought them out without further negotiation.
Who was the neighbor?
            In a movie, an interaction between two white men in their 30s and two teenage Native American boys would not look like this. Yet, this is the story. And who is the neighbor? The neighbor is the person we stop to help and the neighbor is the person from whom we are willing to accept help.
            The commandments of God and the story of the neighbor who showed mercy aren’t merely about “being nice” or even “doing the right thing”. They are about the nearness of God, the nearness of grace in our hands and our mouths. Every. Single. Day.
            You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.  It is both a commandment and a blessing. It opens us to the closeness of grace and the ways God uses us. When we trust in the blessing (not burden) of this commandment, God helps us to see how we can help those around us. We learn to trust our neighbors and we are more clearly involved in how God’s kingdom comes.
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.  Fewer young black men will end up dead or in prison. Fewer trials will end with verdicts that frustrate and disappoint and seem far from justice.
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.  Sometimes you end up with a bill at a hotel on the road to Jericho. Sometimes you end up with a bunch of watermelons. Sometimes someone pays your bill or buys all your watermelons. But “the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe”. And it is a blessing.
Amen. 

Friday Five: Silly Sentences

Use these five words (in any tense) in a sentence:


1. pulpit, puppy, wrench, word, mouse

2. weep, love, prayer, bassoon, chair
3. heart, shutter, wish, turtle, walk
4. howl, worry, window, story, trust
5. garden, hat, shepherd, laugh, sigh.



1. pulpit, puppy, wrench, word, mouse.
 
 As the mouse walked her puppy around the pulpit, she slipped in the last lap, wrenched her knee, and uttered a church parking lot word!
2. weep, love, prayer, bassoon, chair
The weeping prayer of the bassoonand the chair was that the love in the room would be felt and understood.
3. heart, shutter, wish, turtle, walk
When I press the shutter, I wish to be Ansel Adams, but the every day miracle of a turtle walking toward the pond is not captured in my photograph, only in my heart.
4. howl, worry, window, story, trust

The best nights with friends ring with howling laughter, have no worries, and are full of trust and storiesthat open a window with both past and future views.

5. garden, hat, shepherd, laugh, sigh
Called to be a shepherd in God’s garden, I wear many hats and laugh and sigh daily. 

Resisting Cargo Culture (Bold Cafe)

This is an article I wrote for this month’s edition of Bold Café- an online magazine for young adult women (or anyone who reads it). The magazine is a ministry of the Women of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). The article has a companion faith reflection (see previous post).

I saw the pair of shoes on the shelf near the window, when I was almost out the door. Their eye-catching color and unusual heel shape pulled me like a magnet. “Please don’t be my size, please don’t be my size,” I chanted, as I lifted the right one. Phew! The number suggests they’ll be too large. “You never know until you try them on,” whispers a little voice in my ear.  

I shake my head to clear it and firmly say out loud, “Cargo cult.” I put the shoe back and walk out of the store, completely empty-handed.   

The little bag of yarn reels me in like the catch of the day. With eight balls of coordinating yarn, I think of the fun little projects I could make. Sure I have yarn at home I haven’t used yet, but not like this. I could make a… “Cargo cult.” 

And I push the cart on to complete my grocery list. I have talked with my husband again and again about making a weekly meal plan, but something always comes up and so we never do. I buy groceries for the week, attempting to guess what we might eat. I usually forget something I bought, only to find it later—rotting in a corner or drawer of the fridge or dust-covered in the back of the pantry. Embarrassed, I throw it away or compost it, muttering: “Cargo cult.” 

In reality, a cargo cult is a complex spiritual and religious system—most frequently found in islands of the South Pacific. The belief system is oriented around specific worship practices and living habits that organize the social relationships of the community. There is also an expectation that the correct religious practice will result in material blessings from gods or ancestors... See more after the jump to the Café website. 


– See more at: http://www.boldcafe.org/blog/resisting-cargo-culture#sthash.6iYJEZXJ.dpuf

Consumerism and Faith (Bold Cafe)

This is a faith reflection I wrote that was published in this month’s issue of Bold Cafe- an online magazine for young adult women (or anyone who reads it). It is a ministry of the Women of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA).

 A recent advertisement from a cosmetics company went viral on television and on the Internet. In the commercial, women described themselves to a forensic artist who could not see them. He made a second sketch based on a description from a stranger who encountered the woman in the waiting room. The drawings from the women’s own characterizations of themselves were often more grim and less attractive. Many did not actually resemble the person depicted.

This was not the fault of the artist, though, because the second drawings, made from a stranger’s description, were easily matched with their real-life counterparts. Each woman’s face, as described by a stranger, was more open and far more realistic to her appearance and demeanor. Dove’s “Real Beauty” campaign garnered lots of positive attention for encouraging women (and men) to see themselves as others do–with kindness and openness.
Regardless of the overt emotional impact of the campaign, this cosmetics company and its parent company, Unilever, want to sell products. Unilever also makes Axe body spray. Axe commercials frequently objectify women in the way the Dove commercials attempt to alleviate. Unilever also manufactures a skin lightener called “Fair and Lovely” specifically to Middle Eastern and Indian consumers. Suggesting that lighter skin is more beautiful skin is not exactly a “real beauty” message, even though it comes from the same company… (continued after the jump to the Cafe website)


 http://www.boldcafe.org/blog/faith-reflections-2

Renunciation

Galatians 5:1,13-25; Luke 9:51-62
There is a moment in each baptism service when the voices become a little weaker and uncertain. Is it when the parents of the person to be baptized (or the person themselves) are asked the long list of promises? Is it when the congregation promises to offer support and guidance and is expected to follow through on that promise? Is it when we have to affirm our trust and hope in the truth of the words of the Apostles’ Creed? Is it when I pray for an infant to have a spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord? 
It is not. 
It is when we come to the space where I say: I ask you to profess your faith in Christ Jesus, reject sin, and confess the faith of the church. 
And then we proceed: 
Do you renounce the devil and all the forces that defy God? 
Response: I renounce them. 

Do you renounce the powers of this world that rebel against God? 
Response: I renounce them. 

Do you renounce the ways of sin that draw you from God? 
Response: I renounce them. 
When we come to that part of the service, our responses are hesitant. It’s not that we are secretly in favor of forces that defy God or rebel against God or that we’re pro-sin. It’s more that we’re not sure what renouncing it looks like. What does it mean for a five-month old baby? What does it mean for a 65-year-old man? What are we really saying? 
If I said to you: I ask you to in the goodness of Jesus Christ, to resist wrongdoing, and to believe that the church exists to bear God’s light and truth into the world with the help of the Spirit… would anyone have trouble with that? It seems clear and it has a little more wiggle room. Resisting wrong-doing sounds easier than “rejecting sin”- though we want to do the latter. Trusting in the goodness of Jesus Christ feels more expansive than “professing faith in Jesus Christ”. And do I need to unpack the difference between hearing “confess the faith of the Church” and “believe that the church exists to bear God’s light and truth into the world with the help of the Spirit”. 
I think we falter in this part of the baptism service because we are unclear on what we are promising. We are not certain what we are renouncing. Some of that hesitation is because of the language we are using and some of it is because we are still worried about what baptism really means. 
In today’s reading, James and John are incensed at how Jesus is rebuffed in a Samaritan village. The behavior of the villagers is not a surprise, since Jews and Samaritans had tense relations going back to when Israelites were conquered by the Babylonians in 587 B.C.E. and Assyrians in 722 B.C.E.  So it had been a while since everyone was one big happy family under their ancestor Jacob. 
However, the Samaritans’ rejection of Jesus made the “Sons of Thunder”- John and James- vengeful. What is it they ask Jesus? “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” Lord, can we kill them? Please, Jesus, please? While we may resonate with the thought, I hope we’re all relieved that Jesus didn’t say, “Right here. Right now. Let’s go!” Or even “You may and I ask God to help and guide you.” 
He rebuked them. He rejected not only their words, but the spirit behind them. He didn’t say, “Now, boys, ya’ll know they’ll get what’s coming to them.” He didn’t say, “We don’t talk that way.” He didn’t even say, “Strike one.” In my mind, he says, “Have you learned nothing? Nothing? Do you think that sermon on the plain was because I like the sound of my own voice? Did I heal all those Gentiles just because I can’t resist a sad story? Do I feed anyone who comes because I want to fatten them up before the Father smites them? Do I rejoice in peace and in the breaking down of boundaries because I’m too simple-minded to see that people will never get along?” 
James and John missed the essential meaning of what it meant to walk with Jesus. Being pulled, by the Spirit, into the work God was doing in the world did not mean knowing everything. It did not mean being mistake-free. It did not mean special privileges over other people. This is a reminder for us with regard to baptism. We are not suddenly endowed with special knowledge. We will not be without faults. We do not get to hold our baptisms over other people’s heads.  
What we are renouncing in the service of baptism are all the things that try to distract us from what baptism really means and who is really doing the work and the promising. When I say “distract”, we think of a minor distraction, “Oooh, shiny.” What I mean is serious spiritual, physical, emotional, and political powers that do try to stop the on-going work of God’s creative and healing Spirit in the world. 
The devil and all the forces that defy God? Spiritual forces- things beyond our understanding
The powers of this world that rebel against God? Political and governmental groups and individuals that reject the good of others and creation.
The ways of sin that draw you from God? Physical, mental, and emotional powers within ourselves that tell us that we know the mind of God… to lean on our own understanding… that exacerbate our doubts and undermine our trust. 
When we renounce (reject) these things in a baptismal service, we are reminding ourselves and assuring the baptized that these things are real, but they are trumped by God’s power. These things will try to tempt us, but they will never be better than the consolation of grace or more peaceful than the hope of rest in Christ. When we renounce these forces and powers, it is not just saying that we are blowing off some minor distractions. With the promise that is our inheritance as children of God, we are dismissing precisely the things that would cause us to look back as our hand is put to the plow. 
Understanding what we are saying matters because of what it says about God and what it reveals about what God says about us. At Heavenly Sunshine (our service for children), we say: 
Do you say no to things that do not like God?
Response: I say no to them. 

Do you say no to lies that may be told about God?
Response: I say no to them.

Do you say no to sin, that is, actions that make you feel far away from God and God’s love?
Response: I say no to them.
Baptism is not magic. It’s work. It’s God work of washing us clean, of giving us a fresh start, of re-framing our self-understanding so that it is not oriented in what we can do, but is instead rooted in… anchored in… growing out of what the One who made us knows and says about us. We are refocused, not on original sin, but on original blessing. Baptism reveals God’s own truth is an everlasting welcome- a open washing and an equally open table. Accepting this about ourselves and about others is what it means to follow Jesus. With the acceptance also comes a rejection of what is not true of God… the lesson of saying no to those distractions that derailed James and John and so easily do the same to us. 
What we have all agreed to this morning is to teach these things to Alice: 
Alice, you are a beloved child of God. 
Alice, the church exists- across time and space- to help you understand that truth.
Alice, there are forces that want to distract you from that truth. We firmly renounce them. 
Alice, we will always walk with in discovering and living into God’s grace for all people. 
Alice, you are a beloved child of God. Welcome to the family. 
What is true for Alice is true for all of us. 
Amen.

Lord’s Prayer: Fifth Petition

Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
            The most frequent conversation I have around this petition is which word people prefer: some like trespasses, some like sins, and some like debts. Let’s think about them for a minute.
            Trespass… a trespass is occupying a space that one does not have the right to be. A person who abuses another person physically or emotionally is clearly trespassing… using and misusing space that is not theirs.
            Sin… a sin is an attempt at power, an effort to control a situation or another person. Sinning might happen through trying to manipulate with words or power or it might be a sneaky way of cutting corners or even gossiping. A shared conversation about a person who is not in the room, which is not positive or uplifting, is about feeling more powerful than them in the moment. That’s an example of sin.
            The language of debts and debtors is clearly about a gap in a relationship. One person owes the other person something or a group owes another group. It might be reparations for past actions, it might be financial, or it might be an effort to make up for a failure to act. A community’s efforts to exclude a certain group of people or a city’s neglect of certain areas or locations might be considered establishing a debt.
            So those are examples of how sins, trespasses, and debts works between people. How do those things work between people and God? What are examples of how we trespass, sin, or are indebted to God?
            Trespass: How do we occupy a space that only God has a right to be? Where to we trample in a space that should belong to God?
            Sin: What are our attempts at power that should belong to God? How do we attempt to usurp authority that should only belong to God?
            Debts: What do we owe God? What debt is there between God and us that we cannot cover?
            When we talk about forgiveness, we tend to either discuss how grateful we are for God’s forgiveness or we talk about how other people need to forgive or what we might not be able to forgive. We rarely talk about how hard it is to actually forgive someone. We rarely talk about the effects of not forgiving. We hardly mention the mental and emotional and physical toll of holding onto how we have been trespassed, sinned against, and the debts that others have incurred.
           
            What can sin do? Sin can affect our self-perception. It can make us feel ashamed and insecure. We feel uncertain. We are assured of God’s love, but our ability to experience it seems dampened and frustrated.
            Sin builds barriers. Even if we are in a safe place, holding on to the sins that have been committed to us keeps us from being able to fully engage with and experience relationships with other people around us. We cannot trust them- because if we do… they might hurt us in the same way.
            Sin makes us feel weak. When we are angry, it’s not actually a powerful feeling. We feel frustrated and powerless. We feel ineffective and hurt. We might like a good rant or vent, but ultimately, as long as we focus on what’s been done to us, we have no power. In fact, we are giving the power to the person or group that has hurt us.
            Forgiveness, on the other hand, centers us in who God is, breaks down barriers, and empowers. When God forgives, it is the essence of who God is. God’s self is revealed to be merciful and loving. When God forgives, barrier- real and perceived, come down. We are reminded that nothing can come between God and God’s love for all creation through Jesus Christ. That love is made real through grace and through the Spirit- gifts and manifestations of forgiveness.
            God is in control and forgiveness is the revelation of that control. God is not momentarily distracted by anger or revenge. God laments, but brings things around to growth and renewal through forgiving sins, trespasses, and debts. Our attempts at control, our efforts to play God, the obligations we cannot cover… God’s forgiveness heals these things.
            When we forgive, healing occurs as well. We can be centered in who God has made us to be. We are able to be in relationship with others. You feel empowered. If I don’t forgive the person who hurts me… they can continue to hurt me. They have the power, even if they are miles away… by not forgiving them… the trespass or sin or debt… I am controlled by an event and a person who is not myself and is not my God. I have no freedom. I am managed by something outside myself… and that spirals out quickly, as most of us know.
            Forgiveness is hard, but if we don’t do it… if we don’t actually do the work of letting go, of mending where possible, of distancing if necessary, of regaining our center in Christ, of being led by the Holy Spirit instead of a spirit of anger or revenge or victimization… if we don’t do the work of forgiveness, how can we truly begin to trust and rejoice in God’s forgiveness of our sins? If we are holding onto to slights and blows, historical sins and anticipated future trespasses… how can we faithfully live in the hope that God can bring good out of all things. If we do not do the work of forgiveness, what is the framework we have for doing anything else that God has called us to do?
            Frederick Buechner, a Presbyterian pastor and theologian, said:

Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back–in many ways it is a feast fit for a king.The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself.The skeleton at the feast is you.[1]

            There is a feast to which we are called… not just invited, but called… a feast that is the food of forgiveness of ourselves and others. To taste of that feast is to taste of God… not a foretaste of the feast to come… but of meal that already is… juicy, abundant, sweet, filling, comforting, and nourishing… forgiveness.
Amen.


[1] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), 2.