Today I am at The Church of the Reconciliation, in Webster. They are served by the Rev. Janice Ford, rector. Below is my sermon manuscript for the day.
Today is the seventh
Sunday after the Epiphany. We don’t get to say that very often; in fact
almost never. Without going all liturgical on you, the reason for that is that
Christmas is a fixed feast day and Easter is a moveable feast day. Christmas
always falls on December 25, but Easter falls on the Sunday after the full moon
that occurs on or after the spring equinox.” (BCP 880) So Easter can be as
early as March 22 or as late as April 25.
Are you still with me? This year Easter falls almost
as late as it can – April 20. So the space between the Feast of Epiphany and
Ash Wednesday gets filled with more Sundays than usual; in other words, a very
long Epiphany season. Next weekend we will finally reach our destination, the
same place Epiphany season always ends - on
the Mount of the Transfiguration. So next week’s readings will be familiar ones
because they come up every year, whether Epiphany season lasts four weeks or
eight.
Alright: that liturgical lesson is free of charge,
but it also doesn’t count against my preaching time. But if we are all on the
same page, then let me say again: today is the
seventh Sunday after Epiphany. One almost never gets to say that! And it
has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that we are having such a long and
brutal winter; it’s just that Easter is late. It means that we very rarely get
to hear these readings together that we heard today.
Now on top of all that, we Christians very rarely
read from Leviticus. And when we do, we don’t much know what to do with it. It
tends to be focused on ritual laws like circumcision and keeping kosher and no
tattoos. But today we turn our attention to a core text from Leviticus which
takes us to the heart of what it is meant to be about: You shall be holy, for I the
LORD your God am holy.
Now flash forward to
this Jewish rabbi we claim is the Christ, who well knew Leviticus, saying in the
most Jewish of the Gospels, Matthew, these words we heard today: Be
perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Now I’ll come back to
those two words, holy and perfect, in a few moments. First, though, I want to
linger with you on this radical idea that we human beings are being challenged
in both places to be like God. And it’s something that most of us, particularly
if we were raised in more Protestant traditions, are resistant to. We are worms
and no man (or woman) right? We are sinners. We are “but flesh.” That’s what
we’ll say in just ten days: we are dust
and to dust we shall return. We are absolutely positively not God!
And confusing ourselves with thinking we are God is the worst kind of pride,
right?
And yet, there is
another strain of thought within the deep and broad Christian faith, found particularly
in Eastern Christianity, that says that God became human so that humans might
become divine. One of the early church fathers put it just that way. It’s
ironic that in an especially long Epiphany season, which is the season when we
reflect on the incarnation and all the ways that God is made manifest in our
lives, that we have at long last come to these two verses in Leviticus and
Matthew because they give us a liturgical context. The fact of Jesus coming
into the world is not only to save sinners but
to transform sinners. It is that we might have full and abundant life. It
is that we might live as not only witnesses to God’s love but as sacraments of
that love – as outward and visible signs of that love to the world. Just a
couple of weeks ago we heard Jesus talking about our vocation as the Church to be
salt and light. I think it’s all of a piece. We are made to become holy…Or as we put it in the Baptismal
Covenant, we are called to grow into the full stature of Christ.
The word “perfect” in
English, however, is incredibly unfortunate, especially for the perfectionists
among us. Trying to be perfect very often works against holiness. So let’s
remember that every translation distorts the truth, as anyone who has ever
travelled in a foreign land holding a dictionary in hand knows. In Greek the
word here is teleios. It is not about
being perfect in some abstract or mystical way. It does not mean making
straight A’s or never making a mistake. It’s a more functional term that refers
to something realizing its purpose. Telios
means purpose or end or goal. It’s
about becoming who you were meant to become.
I’m not making this up!
God knows who God is, and God gets to be God. So that job is taken. We get to
be who we were created to be. So it doesn’t make sense for Janice to try to be
Rich or for Rich to be Janice, or for either of us to think there is one right
way to be priest and that we both have to perfectly conform to that cookie
cutter way. We are different people with different stories: the goal is for
each of us to become fully who God made us to be. The challenge (as Richard
Rohr and others have pointed out) is that we are tempted to live into a false
idea of self rather than our true selves, the unique person God created us to
be.
When you die and go to heaven,
St. Peter won’t ask you why you weren’t Mother Theresa or Martin Luther, King, Jr.
or Bishop Fisher. Or your father, or mother.
The question is: were you truly yourself?
Now think about that
for just a moment and all of the implications of that and all the sermons that
could be preached on it and also all the ways that perfectionism ironically,
and tragically, keeps people from that very truth. That is the great irony
here. If parents are living their dreams vicariously through their children
both are diminished and kept from fully becoming who they were meant to be.
And you could say the
same of a Christian community. The goal for Reconciliation, Webster is not to
be “perfect” as some ideal congregation in our heads would be perfect. The goal
is not to become All Saints, Worcester or some other parish. The goal—the end,
the purpose—is for this congregation to live more fully into God’s call for you
to be uniquely who you are, in this place and time: to be a congregation that
is sharing in God’s mission to reconcile the world to God’s self.
Now I want to let you
in on a secret. Just like sometimes people have a conversation and remember
things a bit differently, the same thing sometimes happens with Jesus. Some of
you may remember that old Monty Python scene at the Sermon on the Mount when
the people in the back row don’t hear blessed are the peacemakers, but blessed
are the cheesemakers. And more recently I saw a meme on Facebook where Jesus
says, “now listen up, I don’t want four versions of this…”
Well, it’s pretty
funny. But something like that does happen in the gospels all the time and it happens
with this passage between Matthew and Luke. Because Luke doesn’t use the word teleios at all; but another word that we
translate as merciful. Instead of asking us to be perfect, Luke hears Jesus say:
be merciful as your Father is merciful.
That word is connected to the word for womb so we might even be so bold as to say,
merciful as your Mother is merciful. God feels deep compassion and love for Her
people as if we were God’s own children; because we are. And we are to emulate
that womb-like compassionate love for each other. Be merciful, as God is
merciful. Forgive, as you have been forgiven.To be like God, Luke says, is not
to always get it right. It is not to be perfect. It is to forgive seventy times
seven times if necessary.
So, this brings us back
to the original text, from Leviticus: be
holy as God is holy. Our little tour through Luke and Matthew and the Greek
language brings us back to a very big question: what does holiness look like?
It, too, is a very tricky word: most of us don’t feel called to be “holier than
thou.” Sometimes Christian piety and religious piety in general can feel
judgmental and arrogant. This is why so many people claim to be spiritual and
not religious, because the holiness they see doesn’t make them feel welcomed or
included.
But in both the Old and New Testaments, God’s holiness is rooted in covenantal love. Again and again, God forgives. Again and again, God shows mercy. Again and again, through thick and thin, God says “I love you.” I love you Rich, I love you Janice, I love you Reconciliation, Webster. I love you for whom I have made you to become, not to try to be anybody else.
God’s holiness is
expressed in God’s amazing grace. And you and I are called to be more like
that. To live more like that.
I have a friend who has
a bumper sticker on his car that says, “wag more, bark less.” Now I realize
that is a theology of be like Dog, rather than God! But even so…more wagging
and less barking is, I think, also the way to God.
Next weekend I won’t be
with you, but our Epiphany journey will culminate on the Mt. of the
Transfiguration.
Manifest on mountain height, shining in resplendent light,
where disciples filled with awe, his transfigured glory saw.
When from there he leddest them (and us) to Jerusalem,
cross and Easter day attest, God in man made manifest.
Jesus keeps leads us through Epiphany and down from the Mount of the Transfiguration
and into Lent. He keeps inviting us to take the next step, and then the next one:
to live one day at a time and to become more fully whom we were made to be. Be holy, like God. Be perfect, like
God. Be merciful, like God. Let your little light of Christ shine, shine,
shine…
friend posted this "letter' on Facebook today; she created the author. I think it's relevant to your discussion & thought you'd find it interesting. Nice to a catch a sermon of yours every now & then still.
ReplyDelete"Dear Human:
You've got it all wrong. you didn't come her to master unconditional love. That is where you came from and where you'll return. You came here to learn personal love. Universal love. Messy love. Sweaty love. Crazy love. Broken love. Whole love. Infused with divinity. Lived through the grace of stumbling. Demonstrated through the beauty of..... messing up. Often. You didn't come her to be perfect. You already are. You came here to be gorgeously human. Flawed and fabulous. And then to rise again into remembering. But unconditional love? Stop telling that story. Love, in truth, doesn't need ANY other adjectives. It doesn't require modifiers. It doesn't require the condition of perfection. It only asks that you show up. And do your best. That you stay present and feel fully. That you shine and fly and laugh and cry and hurt and heal and fall and get back up and work and live and die as YOU. It's enough. It's Plenty."
- Courtney A. Walsh