[Propertalk] Proper 19 a
robertpmorrison at charter.net
robertpmorrison at charter.net
Sat Sep 13 21:24:09 EDT 2014
Much later than I wished, but drafted before dinner, at any rate!
Happy celebrations to you!
Bob
THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY THE
FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
EXODUS 14:19-31 PROPER 19 (A)
ROMANS 14:1-12 14th SEPTEMBER, 2014
MATTHEW 18:21-35
PSALM 114
Why on earth would God go to all that trouble? Surely it was enough to
get the Hebrew people out of Egypt? Surely they could do something for
themselves, use their ingenuity, find a way to outsmart the Egyptians?
For that matter, couldn’t they find their own home?
God, however, chose to hang around – just in case.
How many of the Hebrews were extremely reluctant to enter into that
space between the water walls? How many of them, having seen what it
looked like minutes before – so stormy, so cold, so treacherous – how
many of them couldn’t get that image out of their minds and wouldn’t
budge from the shore? How many of the families had young and old,
relatives, loved ones, who were so reluctant, that they could barely
convince them to move forwards?
It’s not an uncommon reaction. There were no guarantees how far they’d
make it. The water might close in at any second, and where would they be
then? But where would they be if they didn’t move? That was a “Catch 22”
situation if ever there was one. They were filled with fear about going
out between the waters, but equally they were filled with fear if they
stayed on the bank, with the Egyptian army on their heels. It’s a
terrible feeling, to be stuck in such a dilemma that seems to take
control over our lives. We’re unable to make decisions, even when we
know that we HAVE to, even when we know that making a decision is vital
for our lives and the lives of those around us.
Even although the Hebrew people had heard of and had actually
discovered the guidance of God in their own lives, still, they were
unsure about stepping out into the gap between the water.
Maybe it was the fear of being alone, no matter that each was
surrounded by others; maybe it was the fear of the possibility of being
separated from those others; maybe it was that gnawing fear that,
perhaps, one had misjudged totally the intent of others to be there for
them; maybe it was these, and more, which faced those Hebrews, unsure
about putting their feet out on to the sea bed.
About twenty-four hundred years after the decision was made to go
through the parted waters, the Persian poet, jurist, theologian and Sufi
mystic wrote:
"Listen, put your trust in God,
don't let your hands and feet tremble with fear:
your daily bread is more in love with you,
than you with it."
I’m sure the people were given encouraging words and gestures by Moses
and others, and possibly some not so polite ones, but love and trust
usually have to come from experience – and it’s possible that the
Hebrews simply hadn’t absorbed that they’d been recipients of blessings
all through their lives, blessings through simple smiles, and
outstretched hands, and something to eat and drink – sacramental acts
through which God becomes present through the lives of others.
We, like the Hebrews, like people of all ages, we may have accepted
such touches and not realised how life-affirming, how blessing they are.
That’s how distracting anxiety and fear can be. In another poem, Rumi
advises,“Put your full trust only in Love because Love is your only
salvation. Friends, don't just look for Love, look for the one who is
also looking for Love.”
So the Hebrews looked beyond themselves. They were transformed as they
passed through the water. They had been passed over in Egypt, they’d
escaped destruction and they’d been given freedom. But even in the act
of being freed they discovered that there were more challenges to be
faced.
I don’t know if the Hebrews and we expect things to move smoothly once
we get out of our respective Egypts. I suspect it’s because we think we
have a good idea who God is, and what our relationship with God is
supposed to be like. We’re not ready to acknowledge that there will
always be changes, or, at least, changes that may involve stress, and
that change will bring about the unfamiliar. Maybe that’s why we find
ourselves uneasy from time to time.
For a while now, people have been commenting that “Fear plays a key
role in twenty-first century consciousness. Increasingly, we seem to
engage with various issues through a narrative of fear.”
As a journalist put it, “You could see this trend emerging and taking
hold in the last century, which was frequently described as an ‘Age of
Anxiety’. But in recent decades, it has become more and better defined,
as specific fears have been cultivated.” You only have to listen to and
watch some of the ads on TV to be reminded of this. I laugh out loud at
some of the medication commercials. The list of contraindications is so
long and potentially hazardous that I wonder why some people would
bother to take the concoction in the first place. And that’s before we
think about the political ads that have started up.
“The rise of catchphrases such as the ‘politics of fear’, ‘fear of
crime’ and ‘fear of the future’, (or, perhaps, so common, ‘fear of
failure’) is testimony to the cultural significance of fear today. Many
of us seem to make sense of our experiences through the narrative of
fear. Fear is not simply associated with high-profile catastrophic
threats such as terrorist attacks, global warming, AIDS or a potential
flu pandemic; rather, as many academics have pointed out, there are also
the ‘quiet fears’ of everyday life.” 1
What God wanted the Hebrews to discover is how involved God is in every
aspect of creation: not involved to the point of pulling things about,
or manipulating, but, instead, to try to awaken us to discover God’s
Presence at every step of our journey. Whether it’s trying to deal with
the consequences of something we’ve done, or being caught up with
something outside of our control, God’s Presence is a given, no matter
where we are – even when dangerous walls may appear to threaten to crash
down about us God helps us to set aside those things which can prevent
us from enjoying life, for discovering freedom.
For the Hebrew people thirty-two hundred years ago as for us this
morning, learning who God is; learning who they and we are; learning to
trust; learning to have faith, no matter what anyone else may say;
learning all of this allows some of the fear to drop away so that people
can approach God, and approach one another, to ask for forgiveness, to
forgive one another – all because fear has been replaced by love. But
this happened for the Hebrews on their journey. They had to step into
the unknown, into the unexperienced, before the enormity of God’s love
became apparent.
It’s the same for us and, as the saying goes, “the journey of a
thousand miles starts with the first step.” 2 There has to be incredible
faith, then, when we take that first step, whether it’s to cross Albany,
or the US, or the world; whether we’re by ourselves or in a group;
whether we know what may be there, and how people will react, or not. We
HAVE to take that first step. Otherwise we’ll be stuck in our fears –
whatever they may be – possibly for ever.
That’s pretty much the soil from which today’s Gospel passage grew,
made all the more desperate because the writer tells us that the problem
has arisen in the congregation. Imagine that! Who’d have thought that
could ever be trouble in church? For a long time I’ve come to understand
that if you want to witness – or participate in – the biggest and most
heart-wrenching fights you should attend church. Feelings run so high
here. We may have spent time wrestling with our fears, we may still have
them quietly stuffed into our pockets, out of sight, but not totally out
of mind, so we really bristle when someone suggests or does things to
shake our beliefs, or our feelings of calm. We we’ve taken those steps
on our journeys, no matter how long we’ve been doing it, we don’t want
anyone to rattle us, to bump us off the path on which we’re set.
If some threat – a cool glance, an overheard comment, a suggestion
that we’re not good enough for this or that committee, or that our
theology is somewhere beyond left-field – if we experience some threat,
our first reaction is to distance ourselves from that person or group.
But if the challenge continues, if we feel ourselves under perpetual
scrutiny; worse, if the gossip builds up, then we feel close to boiling
over. THAT’S when we’re horrified to hear Jesus’ reply, not just to
Peter, but to us. “Lord, have mercy! Seventy times seven! You’ve got to
be kidding. And I’ve to sit in the same pew while this is going on?”
And if some nut like Rumi comes up to us in the Parish Hall after the
liturgy and says, “Listen, put your trust in God, don’t let your hands
and feet tremble with fear” I might be the first to say, “Stuff it,
Rumi!”
And if I did that, if we as a congregation, or a diocese; if we as part
of any organization responded this way, them our journey with Jesus
might start to falter, to stumble over the fear which seems to hang
around, no matter how strong our faith.
I doubt if I’m that unique, but there are times when the unknown, the
unexpected tries to insert itself between the desire to follow God’s
lead. Even when all sorts of Moses hold out their hands in assurance,
even when someone actually holds out a hand to take my own – our own –
even then there are times when the prospect of taking that next step
makes me wonder. Fortunately, God sticks around. Fortunately, God has
patience, endless patience, and doesn’t need any sort of an abacus to
keep track of where we are in life. Each breath, each step we take, is a
fresh gift from God, filled to the brim with forgiveness.
The essayist whose words about fear I quoted earlier, concluded,
“Today, politicians are far more likely to advise the public to fear
everything, including fear itself.” That’s a terrible statement, a
terrible judgement on us, if we allow it to be the last word.
But the Hebrew people made it across despite their fear. They reached
the other side just a little bit more transformed, a little bit more
ready, as Rumi’s other verse expressed, to “put (their) trust only in
Love because Love (was their) only salvation.” And Miriam, Moses’
sister, as the bulletin illustration depicts – Miriam danced with joy at
the collective repudiation of fear.
Now we all know that the story – either from the first or the Gospel
reading – doesn’t end there. For the Hebrews, for us, fear sneaks back
in to induce anger, and greed, and all sorts of other dehumanising
behaviours if we allow it its head. That’s why we’ve to train ourselves
to trust, to take chances, to hope – above all, to know that God is
always there.
Where would we be if we didn’t forgive – again, and again, and again;
if we didn’t reach out to others, with compassion, and understanding
birthed from having stood on that same spot, and been transfixed,
because we didn’t know where to go and where to turn?
Thank God, there are always some people who’re willing to reach out to
us, to offer us hope, to do the Christ-like thing, to BE Christ in the
midst of our shame, and our, anxiety, and our hopelessness.
“Listen, out your trust in God,
don’t let your hands and feet tremble with fear:”
It’s not easy. But it DOES work!
NOTES:
1 “The only thing we have to fear is the ‘culture of fear’ itself: How
human thought and action are being stifled by a regime of uncertainty”
by Frank Furedi 4 April 2007
http://www.spiked-online.com/newsite/article/3053
2 The quotation is from Chapter 64 of the Tao Te Ching ascribed to
Laozi. See
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_journey_of_a_thousand_li_starts_beneath_one%E2%80%99s_feet
Robert P Morrison
Interim Vicar
The Episcopal Church of St Alban
PO Box 1556
Albany OR 97321 541-921-1076 (cell)
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://stsams.org/pipermail/propertalk_stsams.org/attachments/20140913/4fe97ce4/attachment.htm>
More information about the Propertalk
mailing list