Friday, December 30, 2011

The humor and humility of Epiphany...

NOTE:  Here are my Sunday worship notes for the Feast of the Epiphany.  They are a bit late - in theory I wasn't going to do much work this week - but some how that didn't quite work out. It was all good, but I'm going to lay low for the next few days before jumping back into things after New Year's.  I just finished my reflection for Sunday worship - and I have to say that I am really grateful to Amy-Jill Levine for the opening essay in the Jewish Annotated New Testament. She writes some important words in "Bearing False Witness: Common Errors Made About Early Judaism." 
Her sixth point really nailed me: "... a problem of substantially vague rhetoric re: the claim that Jesus ministers to the 'outcasts and marginals." Many pastors and teachers do not explain: cast out by whom? Cast out from what? marginal to what?"  She unpacks this in a helpful fashion before concluding: "It is therefore important that pastors and teachers be more cautious when they use terms like "marginal and outcast." (p. 503) I hope I can live into this challenge and overcome some of my own unknown anti-Jewish thinking.

That said:  Happy New Year to you all and I'll see you sometime next week! (BTW no graphics this week ~ sorry!)

Introduction

Today is both the celebration of New Year’s Day AND the Feast of the Epiphany – and to my way of thinking this is a fascinating combination:

• One day is filled with resolutions – personal promises and plans about how we hope to live into the New Year as better people – so the emphasis is on us – you and me – and our happiness.

While the other speaks of a God who is so completely in charge of justice and compassion in the world – albeit it in mysterious ways – that whether we notice or not – whether we cooperate or not – whether we acknowledge it or not – the will of God triumphs over the darkness.

• One day is about the kingdom of self and the other about the kingdom of God

And I would go so far as to say that having these two celebrations on the same day lets us see in stark contrast what is at stake for living by faith. Clearly the message of Epiphany says something about the way of the Lord trumping the glitter of New Year’s Day in every conceivable way, but we can be stubborn people, yes?

• We know that most of our New Year’s resolutions will become dust by week’s end and we’ll have forgotten why we made them in the first place.

• We know, as St. Paul confessed so powerfully in Romans 7, that within ourselves we don’t have the power to do the good we desire.

What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary. I need help… For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. In so many ways, my decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me?

There are whole industries built upon our willingness to delude ourselves: 

• If you watch television at all, right now all the fitness gyms and clubs are saturating the airwaves with plans to help you get rid of the effects of all that pumpkin pie, egg nog and chocolate you ate over Christmas.

• And what about the political shenanigans taking place out in Iowa? Think of the billions of dollars being spent in pursuit if illusion…

So we know all of that – we know our ability to lie to ourselves and let others confuse our expectations with God’s will – we know about sin and pride – and yet… and yet… not much seems to change, right? Gertrud Mueller-Nelson is helpful when she tenderly puts it like this in her book, To Dance with God: So often we say to ourselves, “I want Christmas this year to be different…”

We want to be touched by the season – moved to a level that lies deep in us and is hungry and dark and groaning with primal need. Like the receptive fields all around us, we lie fallow and wanting… We ache to receive the Spirit – to be impregnated like the Virgin Mary – by God’s love

… only to discover that nothing has changed. We wanted it – we ached for it – we may have even prayed for it but… nothing has changed.

Well, Epiphany offers an antidote to this disappointment – especially when it falls on New Year’s Day – because in a humorous and humble way it gives shape and form to the classic definition of insanity. Do you know it? 

• The classic definition of insanity is doing the same old things the same old way – over and over again – and expecting different results.

• If we want Christmas to be different – if we want our politics to be different – if we want our souls and loves to be different we can’t do the same old same old. Rather, like the Magi in the Epiphany story, after they worshipped the baby king we’re told that they returned home by a different way. They changed. They let themselves be transformed. They lived into the future in a new and different way.

So let me suggest for you three clues about moving beyond the insanity of the status quo into the humorous and humble way of Jesus made clear by the Magi, ok? They are:

• First, let’s talk about who the Magi really are and what they symbolize.

• Second, let’s play with the genuine humor and humility of these symbols for our generation.

• And third let’s see if we might grasp how WE are to return by a different way after encountering all of this, ok?

Insights

The Magi – the Wise Men – the Three Kings: who are these people and what do they symbolize? Well, right out of the gate let me tell you that the Magi are not learned and respected spiritual scholars from the orient, ok? As Amy-Jill Levine told us when she was here before Christmas, these characters are oddballs – misfits – some of the forsaken and forgotten who had NO respect in first century Palestine.

• They show up in the oral tradition like comic relief actors – they amplify the story – but in a funny way so that we get a little break from all the heavy action.

• So let’s be clear: although the Victorian sentimentality is dominate in our retelling of the Christmas story, the Magi were soothsayers and astrologists – more akin to the weirdoes on the Psychic Hotline than professors of theology at our learned universities.

• They were pagan outsiders from Persia who were searching for meaning in the tea leaves and the stars rather than the word of God – and most of Jesus’ ancestors would have rejected and neglected whatever they said…

And that is an important clue about why Matthew includes them in this story: you see, Matthew is making the case that Jesus is the natural descendent of King David – in the family and lineage of the Messiah of Israel – so he very carefully constructs a story about how blessings have come to Israel from among the least likely places. Are you with me? He wants to show his audience that deep within the Jewish experience God has raised up blessings from the least expected people and places.

Matthew begins his story with Christ’s family tree – he connects Jesus to David – which is important, but within that family tree he also has some characters that if we were writing about ourselves we’d probably edit out:

• He includes a number of women, for example, who were not Jews but helped save Israel (think of Tamar - a Gentile proselyte to Judaism - or Rahab - a Canaanite prostitute faithful to Joshua's spies)

• He also includes a couple of kings who where were tyrants and apostates – religious villains not heroes...

And Matthew does this for two reasons: first, he wants to remind the Jewish Christians he is teaching that within their own story there are already examples of blessings coming to Israel from the most unlikely places. In this, Jesus isn’t unique – rather he is yet another example of how God brings hope and light out of the worst times, ok?

And second, Matthew wants his people to know that even when there is sin and corruption – even when the kings of Israel collaborate with God’s enemies – God’s power is stronger than their actions. God uses Moses to lead the Jews from slavery to freedom – God raises up prophets to speak truth to power – God brought forth water from a rock and shared manna in the desert.

• And that is part of what the Magi are telling us: these strange souls – more like Rodney Dangerfield or Chris Rock than Bishop Tutu or Mother Teresa – are part of God’s mysterious way of bringing hope and healing to the world.

• What’s more, they know the Jewish story better than the existing King – they pay attention at a time when the existing King of the Jews, Herod , had to call in his advisors and have them explain what the Magi were talking about: do you get that? Do you see why that is important?

• This is a slam on King Herod – and King Cesar, too: the REAL king – the everlasting king – Matthew is telling us is… Jesus – who doesn’t look anything like a king. Who is a baby – helpless – innocent – in need of nurturing.

In Matthew’s telling of the story the Magi speak of tradition – in an upside down way – and they speak of God’s grace coming to the people – in an equally upside down way – and they do so with humor and humility. In this, they point us towards the kingdom of God rather than the kingdom of self – a distinction we might notice clearly today, too.

• The kingdom of God is not puffed up – full of ourselves – prideful. Rather, the kingdom of God is a community where everyone is welcome to the feast table and everyone has a part to play – and both of those elements – welcome and responsibility – are essential.

• Sometimes people want a seat at the table of grace without sharing their gifts: that is selfishness. Sometimes people want a seat at the table but want to be in control: that is pride and greed. And sometimes people want a seat at the table so that they can con and manipulate others: that is sloth and gluttony. 

• See where I’m going with this: the kingdom of God turns our sins and confusion upside down and welcomes us all but also asks us to share and participate as fully as we are able.

And I have come to believe that the best way to be trained in the wisdom of kingdom living is through humor and humility. The salty old Roman Catholic, G.K. Chesterton put it like this: the test of a good religion is whether or not it can laugh at itself. And I think that is just about right: only those who are willing to engage with humility can laugh at themselves, right?

• Tyrants and bullies don’t laugh at themselves – so you don’t want them running your religion; idiots and gas bags can’t laugh at themselves either – nor can the walking wounded.

• It takes a lot of experience – and failure and reflection – to laugh at yourself – and in an oddly upside down way that’s part of what the Magi are telling us: we have a religion built on those who sometimes look and act ridiculous as they live quiet lives of faith.

• St. Paul called them fools for Christ in I Corinthians 4: It seems to me that God has put us who bear his Message on stage in a theater in which no one wants to buy a ticket. We're something everyone stands around and stares at, like an accident in the street. We're the Messiah's misfits. You might be sure of yourselves, but we live in the midst of frailties and uncertainties. You might be well-thought-of by others, but we're mostly kicked around. Much of the time we don't have enough to eat, we wear patched and threadbare clothes, we get doors slammed in our faces, and we pick up odd jobs anywhere we can to eke out a living. When they call us names, we say, "God bless you." When they spread rumors about us, we put in a good word for them. We're treated like garbage, potato peelings from the culture's kitchen. And it's not getting any better.

In fact, Paul said those who follow the way of the Cross look to be fools in the eyes of the world – those who are learned and respectable and powerful – but we who aren’t interested in the status quo, we can follow the Crucified One with humor and humility because we have been loved from the inside out by God’s grace.

In another place, Paul describes being foolish for Christ like this: We continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!

And a bit later he says: Love from the center of who you are; don't fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle. Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality. Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody. Don't hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you've got it in you, get along with everybody. Don't insist on getting even; that's not for you to do. "I'll do the judging," says God. "I'll take care of it."

Conclusion

Epiphany invites us to be fools for Christ – to join the other sacred and holy fools including the Magi – who come to love and serve the Lord. And here’s where it all comes together, to be a fool for Christ means we know that we can’t make it happen: like St. Paul said at the outset, if we base our response to Jesus on what we can do and will and create… we will fail. Sin is just too great. That’s why the story of the Magi is good news: it tells us simply that if we just come – if we respond to the invitation and open our hearts – God will meet us – and touch us – so that when we leave… we will leave by a different path.

That is what it means to come to the table of Holy Communion. An ancient invitation brings it all together when it says: Come to this sacred table not because you must, but because you may. Not because you are fulfilled, but because n your emptiness you stand in need of the Lord’s mercy and assurance… not to express an opinion but to seek a presence… not to be in charge but to pray for the Spirit of the Lord… not as a lonely individual but with sisters and brothers who are tired and heavy laden… and are being called to the bread of life.

And that, beloved, is the good news for Epiphany for those who have ears to hear: come.

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