[Propertalk] 4 epiphany b rcl
robertpmorrison at charter.net
robertpmorrison at charter.net
Sat Jan 28 17:59:07 EST 2012
I may have omitted to post this draft for tomorrow.
Bob
THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY THE FOURTH
SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY - B
DEUTERONOMY 18:15-20
29th JANUARY, 2012
1 CORINTHIANS 8:1-13
PSALM 111
MARK 1:21-28
Did Mark leave anything out of the episode described in this morning’s
Gospel passage? It’s really interesting to note where the emphases of
the different gospels lie. Look at what’s uppermost in the writer’s mind
– healing, no matter where, no matter when. Healing – making people able
to get around and to put into play in society the resources with which
God has blessed them. Healing – giving people the ability to make good
decisions, not only for themselves, but primarily for the good of the
community. Healing – so that – and this may be the most important aspect
of it – healing – so that everyone can involve themselves completely in
worshipping God, without being excluded for any reason whatsoever.
But what is it that’s so intriguing about this story this morning? It
happens on the Sabbath – and in the synagogue!! And not one word about
breaking a rule – any of the six hundred odd rules which every faithful
Jew was called to observe.
Not ONE word of criticism of Jesus!!! Simply astonishment of the
astuteness Jesus showed when He interpreted the prophecies and then put
them into practice.
Possibly what threw the worshippers so much that day was that they were
shown by Jesus that there was a direct link between word and action.
I love words. I love trying to tease out their roots – from what
language are they derived? Who used them first or most prominently? What
is the context of that use? But I enjoy a good joke also, and if you can
use one word to describe two apparently different situations, so much
the better.
String words together, then, and you can come up with amazing stories
which can excite, inspire, amuse, reform, even terrify one. That and
more are all contained in the stories of the Bible. If we sat down one
of these wet afternoons and actually read our way through a book of two
out of the Bible, you and I would probably be amazed at the descriptions
of God’s emotions.
I’m sure the synagogue attendees were in that category that Sabbath.
They took scripture seriously. They must have memorized story after
story, prophecy after prophecy. But it seems that that was where it
stopped. Somehow they were unable – and, more problematic, their leaders
were unable – to make a connection between what they heard and what they
did in their work and home lives.
That was what astounded all of them that day. Jesus spoke the words,
then He put them into action when He turned and sorted out the life of
the man who was incapacitated. The Bible came alive in the hands and
mouth of Jesus. All of a sudden someone was doing something to pull back
the curtain which shrouded the prophet’s concepts with mystery.
Of course, not everything became clear. Perhaps only a tiny bit of it.
But Jesus had the amazing knack of making everything seem relevant.
I have a feeling that this is EXACTLY what we and the people around us
in Albany need today. We need someone first to announce what God has
said; but then we need someone to open that up and show us the power
that these words have – power to encourage us, to transform us from
apathy, or uncertainty, or depression. We need something – we need
someone – to open up our minds and imaginations so that we can see and
accept how God is loving us right here and now; and how God wants to be
able to turn our lives around.
I come back to my amazement, however, about the fact that no one made a
single peep about Jesus taking on that man’s disability and doing
something about it on the Sabbath. However many days or months later we
don’t know, but within three short chapters in Mark’s Gospel we read
that later, when Jesus tried something similar on the Sabbath, He was
hauled over the coals for not telling the person to take a couple of
aspirin and come back the next day.
Everyone who was a part of that scene on that Sabbath must have been
convinced of the absolute rightness of what Jesus was doing. Word and
action HAD to go together, no matter what day of the week. So we’re
given something truly remarkable for our own lives today, no matter how
challenged we are. Nothing will stand in the way of Jesus bringing a
sense of wholeness, a sense of purpose to all the decisions we have to
make.
How do we decide for whom to vote when the primaries finally make it to
Oregon? What do we say to the city councilors about the use of the Pepsi
money – assuming we’re not all Betty Holcombs and write letters to the
Democrat Herald? How do we come to an understanding about priorities in
our own lives – about relationships, and demands on our time and energy,
and so on?
I think one of the things with which a great many people have given up
on here in Albany and around this nation, even the world, is that many
people see a distinct disconnect between what they hear read as God’s
word and what they see happening not thirty feet away in the Parish
Halls of the various churches in town. They may have a very sketchy idea
of what’s in the Bible, or the Koran, or any number of Holy Books. But
they’re unable to translate it in any practical way – except, perhaps,
unless they simply take every word, every story, at its literal face
value. That IS one way of looking at such stories as Jesus read out to
the congregation. But He really expected everyone to dig deeply into the
story, to look at what else was being described in the context in which
the story was set. Above all, Jesus wanted – and still wants – people to
accept that God really does want people to experience wholeness in their
relationship with God and with one another.
Nowhere did Jesus say that this would be easy, yet He asked us to use
love, and patience, and compassion as lenses through which we’re to
interpret how we see and hear God in our society today. And, again, to
repeat what may be becoming obvious, neither Jesus nor His listeners let
anything get in the way of their understanding and their practical
experience of God’s love becoming real. And this may be one of the
warnings to us – a warning OR an encouragement, we can interpret it
either way – this may be one of the warnings to us as we live each day.
We can become so hung up on the snags that can prevent things from
happening. The BAC comes up with an idea for a series of programmes; the
ECW are inspired to engage people in the community schools in different
ways; the Sunday School children and Patty Wheeler may think of
something that can enrich both their own experiences and also those of
others with whom they have contact on a daily basis.
Then someone says – but that’s not in the budget; or, have you looked at
the age of the folk in our pews and up front there in the sanctuary? Or,
whatever we might do is just a drop in the bucket and won’t make much of
a difference, if any at all.
Our hurdles are just like the ones that have faced quadrupeds and bipeds
since the time they first emerged from the primeval ooze. We fail to
connect word and deed. Maybe that’s why I find such satisfaction in the
Episcopal style of worship.
Go to a Presbyterian, or a Baptist, or a Congregational Church and
you’ll find wonderful sermons, great stories told at such length that
you may have paralysed buns by the end of the service. But take the same
stories, even the same interpretations and struggles to understand
what’s going on in the Bible passages of the day; take these in an
Episcopal setting and place them alongside action – we call it
“Sacrament” – take all three Scripture passages this morning, plus the
psalm and the prayers and the hymns derived from words from the Bible –
take all that and layer them on top of the recitation of Jesus’
historical celebration of a special meal; take all these biblical
stories and merge them with Bread and Wine, and then we may begin to
catch a glimpse of the sort of authority which oozed out of Jesus.
Jesus simply couldn’t talk about God without referring to the woman who
lived next door, or the child who was playing in the dirt across the
street, or the family under pressure because they couldn’t pay their
bills and still put simple bread on the table. Jesus looked that these
people, and the line of sick and frightened who came to the door of the
houses wherever He stayed; Jesus looked at everyone and was completely
unable to separate talking about a loving God and what He felt He and we
have to do about anyone who’s dis-abled in any way whatsoever.
I could mention prescription costs; and the burden of bad decisions
made in the past; or the stress of living with chronic pain which
doesn’t seem to have any resolution in sight – I could mention these and
any number of others, and I’d expect to be able to hear Jesus speak so
clearly and authoritatively about how this morning’s Bible passages are
directly linked to those things with which we’re wrestling.
The point about Jesus’ life is that He never acted as if He were the
greatest thing since sliced goat curds. The point about Jesus’ life is
that He was always acting in such a manner as to show us how to act.
“You think I’VE got authority? “ He might have said. “You have as much
authority, AND as much responsibility for what goes on and how to deal
with it. You have a question about voting? You worry about the flooding
and the landslides on the roads? You wonder who’s going to take care of
this and that?
“Listen to the stories again,” I can hear Jesus saying, “but don’t ever
stop there. Let them roll around your imagination and ask how they apply
to every single thing you’ll encounter today. Then take a stab at doing
something practical about it. But while you’re letting your imagination
wrestle with it, why don’t you try to calm down and listen to what’s
going on. And why don’t you pick up some Bread and Wine, and see what
you can find in them to help and influence your decision-making.”
A review in “The Oregonian” last Monday began, “Oregon Symphony music
director Carlos Kalmar dispensed with his usual remarks about the
program before the orchestra’s concert Saturday night at the Arlene
Schnitzer Concert Hall, saying, ‘I don't think there’s anything I need
to add to Haydn’s “Creation.” Just listen.’” 1
That’s true, to a certain extent. But any great performance of any
artistic endeavour draws the audience in to the creative act and makes
each person a participant, even if on the silent, awe-struck emotional
level.
The spiritual writer Esther de Waal wrote. “Anyone who loves words
will tend to let themselves be satisfied by them, and as a result stop
short of true satisfaction. For true satisfaction ... comes when I am
silent and listen.... When God’s voice is drowned out by incessant
clamor, whether inner or outer, in whatever shape or form, then
continuous dialogue with God becomes impossible.” 2
Jesus DOES call us to be quiet, and to listen, to discover all the
wonderful sources through which God’s Word is being revealed. But Jesus
also pleads with us never to stop wrestling with how to make these words
come alive – for our own sake as well as the sake of the others around
us.
NOTES:
1
http://www.oregonlive.com/performance/index.ssf/2012/01/oregon_symphony_review_haydns.html
2 Esther de Waal, from “A Life-Giving Way” quoted in “Voice of the Day”,
Sojourners. http://www.sojo.net/blogs/2012/01/17/voice-of-the-day 17th
January, 2012.
Robert P Morrison
Interim Vicar
The Episcopal Church of St Alban
PO Box 1556
Albany OR 97321 541-921-1076 (cell)
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