Justice and Healing for All

ThirdSundayafterEpiphanyA, Sullivan Park Care Center, January 26, 2014 by Sr Annette Fricke, OP

                The sequence of events is just a bit muddy as one of my companions pointed out.  John’s gospel is not the same and that was the gospel reading last Sunday.  This Sunday, we switch back to Matthew.  Matthew, unlike John, tells the story of a temptation in the wilderness after baptism. Matthew seems to further test and purify Jesus prior to ministry, bringing forth from many temptations, a pure, strong human, ready for anything that may come.  It is not unlike the rituals of some Native American tribes who do this sort of thing with young men as a rite of passage into manhood in which you must prove yourself.  In the same way, the ancient liturgy of the church follows this notion of a prayer for purity before God prior to the prayer of confession. This is also implied in the Catholic rite where just prior to communion the people say, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.”

            Each of the gospel writers had something slightly different in mind when they made the decision to write about Jesus.  Just as the gospel of John talks about Jesus as the light of the world, the writer of Matthew is also interested in presenting his gospel in relationship to Old Testament prophecy.  In fact, he uses a passage from the Old Testament that we read today, “the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.”  Matthew is not so concerned about who Jesus is as much as what Jesus does and teaches.  Matthew identifies Jesus as the one who brings light and life to people sitting in darkness.

            The Roman government had certainly put a cloud of darkness on all who would practice their religion.  The Romans wanted strict adherence and allegiance to the emperor of the Roman Empire only.  Those who did not obey the emperor were actually called atheists because in their minds, the emperor was the only god.  The government was so strong that you can see why Judaism longed for a Messiah who would set them free from its bondage.  The people only partially comprehended what Jesus was all about and following Jesus came at different times in Jesus’ ministry.  It began with John the Baptist.

            We take up the narrative again with the occasion of the imprisonment of John the Baptist.  One ministry squelched; another begins.  John the Baptist has been imprisoned, so Jesus follows the pattern presented by John the Baptist.  He calls for repentance, “Repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”  What should I do with my life? The same thing that John the Baptist taught; With God’s help, I should turn it completely around. Someone even greater than John the Baptist is here, telling people the same thing.  It is Jesus and he wants me to live fully into his kingdom. John the Baptist is no longer on the scene, but the ministry he began is now being taken over by Jesus and Jesus says that we should repent.

            We should repent because it prepares us for ministry to and for others.  It helps us to get outside of ourselves and our own ruminations, our own preoccupation with our problems in life.  We all have our struggles, but we die spiritually if we stay in them or disengage from those around us, not connecting with others.

            Barbara Brown Taylor describes it this way, “The wisdom of the Desert Fathers includes the wisdom that the hardest spiritual work in the world is to love the neighbor as the self--to encounter another human being not as someone you can use, change, fix, help, save, enroll, convince, or control, but simply as someone who can spring you from the prison of yourself, if you will allow it. All you have to do is recognize another you ‘out there’--your ‘other self’ in the world--for whom you may care as instinctively as you care for yourself. To become that person, even for a moment, is to understand what it means to die to your ‘self.’ This can be as frightening as it is liberating. It may be the only real spiritual discipline there is."

            To begin his ministry, John the Baptist chose the desert. Similarly, Jesus’ ministry does not begin in Jerusalem or any other large Jewish city.  We are told that Jesus goes to Capernaum, which is a small agricultural and fishing town.  He simply was strolling around the Sea of Galilee, saw a bunch of men out fishing, and invited them to follow him.  This is not an earthly king with all the pomp and circumstance of one who lives in high places and sits on a throne for consultation with his underlings.  He didn’t call the disciples to be his subjects. We hear nothing of Jesus asking the disciples to call him, “Your royal highness.” Rather, Jesus comes to them as a normal, average person and calls these average persons of the society of his day to be his disciples. They are ordinary people doing ordinary things, living their lives as providers for their families in the humble occupation of fishing, probably in that time what we would now call a blue collar job. He does not use lofty words; he calls them with simple words that anyone can understand. It is likely that the attraction of the first disciples to Jesus had something to do with knowing that they were on the bottom rungs of society.  They were thinking, “Here is a leader who will help us to overthrow the oppressive Roman Government.”  Think about Israel and Judah’s prophets in the past.  This is what they were about.  They sought government and religious freedom, even the Gentiles did because the government oppressed all the people through taxation.  That was the initial attraction to Jesus.  He ignored what they were likely thinking and said to them in plain language, “Follow me.”  “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”  In other words, “I will teach you how to make disciples.”

            Jesus had a new idea, a dream of what life could be.  He did not go to the rich and the elite.  “As a Jew in Roman-controlled territory, Jesus locates himself among the marginal, with the poor not the wealthy, with the rural peasants not the urban elite, with the ruled not the rulers, with the powerless and exploited not the powerful, with those who resist imperial demands not enforce them. He continues the gospel’s preference for the apparently small and insignificant places and people who, nevertheless, are central for God’s purposes.”[i] 

            You, despite where you feel you are among the people of this earth, are central to God’s purposes.  You may feel that you are totally ignored, insulted, abused, used, forced to comply with all the needs and wants of the nursing staff and the upper rankings of this facility.  You may feel that all the pills, shots and testing of your bodily fluids are for unfounded or made up reasons.  You may feel that all the testing and prodding, the needles, wipes, and showers have no real purpose.  You may, like Jesus’ first disciples, feel oppressed by the institution or the government.  And, you may be right.  Jesus came for you.  Jesus came to set you free from that oppression, perhaps not quite in the same sense in which you hope.  Jesus came that we all may be one, regardless of class distinction or other social stratum or status.  Jesus came that we might have dignity as the sons and daughters of God who live with equal status in his kingdom which is here and now.  Now is the time to work for justice and healing for all people. Amen.

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[i] William Carter (Matthew and the Margins)

We are not Here Alone

SecondSundayafterEpiphanyA, Sullivan Park Care Center, January 19, 2014 by Sr Annette Fricke, OP

            After showing up for and working nine days in a row, I had the privilege of accompanying one of my friends on a couple of pastoral care visits.  My other friend was home with the flu.  My friends are not like me and I must say that there is one way in which they are very different from me: both of them talk out loud in order to process what is going on with them in their lives.  Not all of my friends are like this, but in particular, these two are.  Also, unlike me, they have at least one parent who is still alive.

            In addition, Thursday night, I had the honor of meeting one of the daughters of our residents.  She informed me that she was a daughter I had not met---probably in order to clarify any confusion I might have---and she was a nurse who lived in Portland.  Apparently, the decision was made that she would now take on the Designated Power of Attorney position for her dad.  She wanted to inform us of the change, so as the charge nurse just happened to be in our midst, I said, “This is the person with whom you should speak.”  I related to her and in my own mind, the similarities with my own family and that the POA for my dad was my nurse sister as well. She looked like another friend of mine, a Physician’s Assistant from the cathedral.  We left the unit together; I needed to return a hot pack to the first floor and she was planning to exit from the same floor. As I went down the elevator with her, my thoughts returned to the conversation I had with a resident just prior to her shower.  She had wanted to know where my co-worker was because she promised her that she would be the next one to do her shower.  I tried as best I could to explain that we all had the same schedules, with days we worked and days off.  She, like many on the unit, has difficulty understanding that we are not there every day or when they get up in the morning.

            The point of all this is that we sometimes think we have the big picture of what is going on, but we don’t.  Other times, we really want to know the big picture, but refrain from asking because we might not understand it anyway.  And if we point something out to someone, will they accept our interpretation or adamantly deny our perceptions of their behavior.  How do we break out of our personal and cultural webs in order to be effective members of the body of Christ?  That is really the bottom line of it all.  We are all called to be missionaries in one form or another, yet we also need to be mindful that we all have our specific gifts. We are called to care for each other as Christians as our vocation in life, yet some are clearly not called to be part of a pastoral care team. Is there some point of view or illustration by which we can be enlightened?

            A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous ‘yes.’ The professor then produced two Beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. ‘Now,’ said the professor as the laughter subsided, ‘I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—-your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—-and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else—-the small stuff. ‘If you put the sand into the jar first,’ he continued, ‘there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and mow the lawn. Take care of the golf balls first—-the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand. One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the Beer represented. The professor smiled and said, ‘I’m glad you asked.’ The Beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of Beers with a friend.

My niece sent this to me and she asked where in all of this God is?  I responded that God is in and through everything. Some people want nothing to do with the Old Testament because they do not see its relevance to their lives as Christians.  And yet, without the old, we lose perspective on the new.  Just as if we were to discard as irrelevant our own pasts.  We continue to learn from our past, just as we can continue to learn from the Old Testament which was very much a part of how Jesus related to the people during his time in the flesh on earth.

            I find myself torn between the Isaiah text and the gospel lesson for the day.  I don’t think justice is done to the texts without the context in which they were written and the audience for whom they were intended.  However, sometimes, no matter how much us, as preachers, intend to be true to the text and historical context, we do have to take out the culture in which it was written to apply it in some way to today.  The text in John asks a very important question of us, “What are you looking for?”  From a cultural perspective, we also, on some level ask daily, “Who am I?” and “Where am I?”  They are intertwined because identity is always involved in what we are looking for in our lives.  Throughout the gospels, we see that the disciples are frequently in a dissonant chord with Jesus.  I see people like that frequently, even at an advanced age.  I am not talking about dementia.  I felt comfortable with the nurse family member because she fits in with the familiar of the family with which I am a part.  At times, I do not feel comfortable with my own friends. Some people dismiss those with whom they feel uncomfortable.

What can we learn from someone who makes us feel uncomfortable? We can learn that different people have different priorities, different opinions as to how to go about ministry to others, believers, non-believers, the in-betweens and those who follow other religious paths.  Most of all, I think we can learn that none of us have all the definitive answers and we need to listen to each other.  We are not here alone, but united by the God who created us and loved us from the very beginning of time.  We do well to keep in mind with each interaction that we are all children of God, intended to live out the same love God has for us to and with each other.  Amen.

Baptism is a verb

Baptism of our LordA, January 12, 2014, Sullivan Park Care Center by Sr Annette Fricke, OP

            The Baptism of Jesus in the river Jordan is attested to in all four of the gospels in our Bibles.  The mere fact that it is, is testimony that baptism itself was very important to the early Christian Church, especially at the time that these gospels were written to summarize the faith.  At the time of Matthew’s composition, unlike Acts where baptism was done in the name of Jesus, it is clear that baptism was to be done in the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  It is clear that our own baptisms are to follow the example that Jesus gave.  Although some of the particulars have changed throughout the centuries, the basic rite has remained the same.  The author of Matthew writes at the end of his gospel, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”

            There is nowhere stated in all of the New Testament that baptism is a graduation and yet there continues to be people who live their lives as though it is.  Those who have continued to stay with the church have seen it happen many times.  Once the baptism is performed, eternal life is guaranteed, so we can go off and live our lives as we please.  That is a gross over-simplification of baptism that has been repeated over and over.  It is like reading the first part of the Matthew text and leaving out the part or paying no attention to the second part: teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. It’s like saying, “OK, you are a Christian, now you can go home. It’s over.”  Rather, it is a commencement, not a graduation.  It is the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, not the end.  It’s like omitting everything in Matthew between the story of Jesus’ baptism and the last paragraph.  And while we are at it, we could eliminate the part about evangelism as well.  Why should we tell others about Jesus if all it takes is baptism?

            All four gospels agree that baptism is the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry and is the preparation for that ministry.  Since it is God that acts in baptism, God also prepares us for our ministries as God’s people.  This, above all else appears to be the main purpose of baptism.  Matthew does not mention anything further than this basic message.  Matthew drives home the point further that Jesus is greater than he, therefore deserving of all manner of respect and honor, and the leader par excellence of a ministry that far exceeds any previous prophet.  Jesus is the supreme prophet that we are to emulate throughout our lives and model our ministry and the way we live after him.  The question about those of us who sin and Jesus being without sin does not even come up.  No matter how great the prophets before him, Jesus surpasses them all.  It is an awesome task, but that is what being baptized in his name means.

            Jesus says to John, “… it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”. The response satisfies John, who proceeds to perform the baptism, leading to the appearance of God and divine approval of Jesus of Nazareth. John recognizes that Jesus is the fulfillment of all righteousness.

            The extended narrative in Matthew’s account forces us to consider the significance of righteousness as a foundation for the beginnings of Jesus’ ministry. Righteousness is one of those biblical terms with elusive meaning. The New Testament usages of “righteousness” associate the term with fair and equitable dealings. Righteousness leads to integrity, virtue, piety, and godliness. It reflects concepts of generosity, while ascertaining values of goodness and justice. We see this spelled out later in Matthew in particular when Jesus teaches these precepts of the Sermon on the Mount.

            While Christian orthodoxy often correlates righteousness to an inner holiness in the context of salvation, the New Testament understandings of righteousness do not separate inner spirituality from outward action. Jesus’ action was that of his ministry here on earth, to reconcile us to God.  Jesus acts out of his identity.  Jesus is proclaimed at his baptism to be God’s Son in whom God is well pleased.  Although we may not be Jesus as God’s Son with a capital “s”, in baptism, we do become God’s sons and daughters, with a small “s”.  Think of the times you want to cry out your identity, to rip Clark Kent's glasses, you know what I’m talking about---Superman--- from your nose, to emerge from the shadows and claim your true name. And admit the irony that the only ones who truly seem to know you--the real you--are your demons: your self-doubts, your anxieties, your weaknesses toward vice.  The demons know your identity, even when no one else does.

Except that today, above all other days, we are reminded that there is more truth than this, greater truth.  On this day of the Baptism of our Lord, we are called to remember into whom we are baptized.  At his own baptism, God spoke to Jesus, and half a Gospel later God spoke to the disciples, saying, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

That only is truly Jesus.  That is his identity.  And in baptism, in this sacrament that rehearses the action to which Jesus consented at the hands of John the Baptist, Jesus' identity becomes our own true selves.  We emerge from the water reborn into him. Baptism is the sacrament in which we declare--in which God declares--that we no longer need Clark Kent's glasses.  We no longer need to mute our tongues from declaring who we are.  We no longer need to duck into the shadows for fear of exposure to the world.  Because who we are--who you and I only and truly are--are the sons and daughters of God.  That identity is etched upon us more deeply than any mask.  Its beauty transforms all ugliness.  Its truth silences the mocking laughter of the demons.

It turns out that even we did not truly know ourselves.  What we secretly thought we were, in both our best and our worst moments, was wrong.  We are not expert or fraud, the angel or the monster, either the beauty or the beast.  The truth of us is far simpler and far more glorious.  We are the baptized, bearing the seal of the Holy Spirit on our brows just as the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove alighted on Jesus.  We can walk the streets of our neighborhoods, the hallways where we live and where we work, sit and meditate in the rooms of our homes--indeed, we can look in the mirror every morning and evening as we brush our teeth or wash our faces--and say, "Look at me, the real me.  I am a child of God.  I am beloved, and with me God is well pleased." 

The words beginning at the second verse of a popular baptismal hymn seem very appropriate, “Then cleansed be every life from sin; Make straight the way for God within, And let us all our hearts prepare For Christ to come and enter there. We hail you as our Savior, Lord, Our refuge and our great reward; Without your grace we waste away Like flowers that wither and decay.  In the sacrament of Baptism, we find that grace upon grace mentioned in the gospel according to St John last week.  That grace of baptism is ours for the journey, it is indeed, strength for the journey.  Being a Christian is not a static noun, it is a verb that calls us to action.  Amen.

 

 

               

Love to Overflowing

2ChristmasA, Sullivan Park Care Center, January 5, 2014 by Sr Annette Fricke, OP

            It is now January; the New Year has begun.  It is all new and yet it is all the same. It is another January, not unlike all the previous 56 Januarys of my life. I was with a church choir that practiced on Wednesdays and now I am with one that practices on Thursdays. This past Thursday night, as I arrived for choir practice eight minutes early, I voiced my opposition to practice, revealing my mood and by questioning reality, “Do we have practice tonight?  There’s nobody here.”  My passenger and fellow choir member asked me to back up because she did not want to walk too far after practice.  As I backed the car up, the vehicles of other choir members appeared by ones and by twos.  I became quickly assured that indeed there was choir tonight.  I entered the cathedral and walked to my spot where I hesitated to shed my coat.  I sat down ever so briefly, then, with quicker steps, hurried to the kitchen where usually there’d be coffee and hot water for tea.  I removed a cup from a stack and poured some hot water for tea.  Not expecting anything else in particular, I noted an array of sweets; among them was a container of Mozart chocolate candies.  How appropriate, I thought.  As I sat back down, devouring the sweets still in my hand, my thoughts returned to the outside.  Outside was a blanket of fog---had been for several days straight---a fog so thick that it was terrifying to drive anywhere and a contributing reminder of past causes of sadness and sorrow. For those of us who long to see the sunshine, it can be a source that promises to uplift and to cheer us on dreary, short winter days.  As a society, we see artificial lighting as a way to cope with the darkness of the season.  Some begin as early as Halloween putting up lights. People spend big money on lights for display and an abundance of candles adorn sanctuaries in churches, beginning with the Advent wreath candles that increase with each Sunday. Light makes the winter darkness bearable.  My own thoughts also briefly edge on the memory of Dad’s death near Christmas four years ago.

            For some, Christmas is over and the presents have been passed and the tree is down.  The only thing left is returning the gifts that did not fit our fancy and shopping once again for the best bargains. The extravagances of Christmas now become the reality of returning to the ordinariness of everyday life. The joy of the Christmas carols and processions, the greening of homes and churches become a distant din. Even further from the joy and the ordinariness, sometimes, the world overwhelmingly presents to us as a great fog.  The fog is so great; at times, we cannot see what may be right in front of us.  We want so much for the world to conform to our ideas that we often miss the opportunities to serve that are right in front of us.  We see Jesus plainly at Christmas as a baby, yet we fail to see the needs of those who are right in our own neighborhood.  We fail to see the needs of others because we still have our own issues that overwhelm us and block our view.  We are in constant need of self-examination, though we are sometimes blinded from seeing even that. And even with self-examination, we still need the will to change our selves because this fog will continue to blind us into thinking that all is well when it is not.

            Despite all that, it is God who gives us the grace in Jesus that is so great and far-reaching that no matter how badly our own relationships here on earth may have been, God’s grace is greater and will never fail.  It is rather like this story of a young child’s memory about burnt biscuits. 

            When I was a kid, my Mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. On that evening so long ago, my Mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! All my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my Mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that ugly burned biscuit. He ate every bite of that thing...never made a face nor uttered a word about it! When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my Mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget what he said, "Honey, I love burned biscuits every now and then." Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your Mom put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides--a little burned biscuit never hurt anyone!" As I've grown older, I've thought about that many times. Life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people. I'm not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else. But what I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each other's faults and choosing to celebrate each other’s differences is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.

            The daddy in the story gave an honest answer out of love and in the spirit of grace.  When in a loving relationship, the particulars do not matter near as much as the big picture.  The big picture is what we all need to keep in mind whenever we are tempted to complain about our lives or the relationships we have with others.  It is our responsibility to make things better.  It is usually not within our power to change other people, but it is in our power to change ourselves and how we respond to others.  Through the grace of God, we are given that power. The choice is ours every day as to how we will respond to that grace.

            “Grace and truth” did not cause their own appearance on earth. It happened to them. These all “came to be” because of a power beyond their control—namely God, who made and continues to make it happen. By God’s word, creation happened. By God’s will and miraculous conception, Jesus is born, the Word becomes flesh. By God’s activity, grace and truth were revealed to the world. So it is with our “becoming” children of God—or “being born from God.” Birth was something that happened to us. We didn’t make it happen. That is true whether we are talking about our first birth or our second birth as God’s children. Becoming children of God is something God does to us. The power of the incarnation, God becoming flesh in Jesus, is the power that makes us children of God. It is ours through faith— “believing in his name.”

            This text in John does not apply only to the first disciples or Christians, those who have gone before us in the faith; it applies equally to us.  This is an articulation of what we believe about God and what God has done for us by sending Jesus in the flesh to earth.  This is the faith that empowered them and this is the faith, if we believe what they have handed down to us throughout the ages, which empowers us---we who live here and now in this place. 

            Christmas cannot be just something that happened in the past in one point in time and space.  It is not just the joy and excitement of the heavenly hosts and the people of a far away time in a land many of us may never visit in our lifetimes.  Rather, Christmas is the fulfillment of God’s love for us in a concrete form.  It is about God’s love for all of humanity.  It is about God’s love for us, God’s everlasting love from before time.  Take hold of the love right now and allow the Holy Spirit to fill you with that love to overflowing and spilling out to all you meet. Amen.