Do We See or Are We Blind?

Today’s sermon is about blindness. Well, it’s more about those who see but are blind. Let me to tell you a story.

Jesus and his disciples are on the road to the cross. Walking through town walk by a man, let’s call him Eugene, who was born blind, the disciples ask their teacher, “Who sinned? Eugene or his parents?” Jesus tells them, “Neither. Eugene is blind so that God’s work may be revealed in him.”

Jesus spits on the ground and puts mud in the man’s eye, tells him to go wash off in the pool. Eugene does as he is told and washed and came back able to see. Everyone is astonished. The neighbors and passerby ask one another, “Is this not the same Eugene who used to sit and beg?” He kept telling them that it was him but they kept on asking, “How were your eyes open?”

Eugene tells them that a man named Jesus had made some mud, spread it over his eyes, and told him to go wash off and he received his sight. His neighbors, shocked, ask him where Jesus is but he doesn’t know. So they take him to the Pharisees. And we learn that he was healed on the Sabbath. The Pharisees ask Eugene the same questions his neighbors did, so he tells his story once more.

The Pharisees quarrel among themselves about this miracle. Some condemn Jesus because he healed on the Sabbath while others argued he couldn’t perform such signs if he was a sinner. Finally they ask Eugene, “It was your eyes he opened, what have you to say about him?” Eugene tells them he believes Jesus is a prophet but the Pharisees don’t believe him.

The Pharisees call in his parents and ask, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind?  How then does he see?” Eugene’s parents scoff, “Yes, he is our son. Yes, he was born blind. But we do not know how it is that he sees now, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him. He’s a big boy. He can speak for himself.”

So the Pharisees demand Eugene to give glory to God because they know Jesus is a sinner. Eugene responds, “I don’t know if he is a sinner or not. All I know is that I was blind but now I see.” They ask him again, “How then? What did he do?” Eugene looks at them, shakes his head, “I have already told you but you won’t listen to me. Why do you want to hear again? Do you want to be his disciples?”

The Pharisees grew angry, saying, “We are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses. But as for Jesus. We do not know where he comes from.”

Eugene amusingly answers, “Here’s the astonishing thing! You don’t know where comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. Not Moses. Not Elijah. Not David. Not Samuel. If this man was not from God, he could do nothing.”

The Pharisees defiantly stare him down, “You were born entirely in sin, and you are trying to teach us?” And they drove Eugene out.

Word spreads through town and Jesus hears what happened Eugen. When he found him, Jesus asked, “Eugene, do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered, “Who is he, sir? Tell me, so that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking to you is he.” Eugene shouted, “Lord, I believe!” and worshiped him.

Looking around him, Jesus says, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” Some of the Pharisees heard him and said, “Surely we are not blind are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains.”

I recently heard an all too familiar story about a preacher during his first year of seminary. One evening, a church had over several of the students to preach. Well, John Kinney got up to speak and started in. He got all riled up and started preaching, “Coon says this. Wilmore says this. Kierkegaard says this, Schleiermacher says this.” Over and over, he preached for about an hour on everything he ever read. As he preached he noticed the congregation wasn’t responding has they normally would. In fact they were starting to give each other looks.

You know what I’m talking about, right? It was the look that said, “What in the blue heaven is this boy talking about?” At first they give that look to their neighbor. Then they’d give that look to the neighbor behind them. Then they gave that nonverbal signal where they turn half way around in their seat and you see more of their back than their face.

John Kinney finished his sermon and sat down. The pastor got up and thanked the fine students for coming over and invited one of the deacons to close out in prayer. The deacon stood up and began to pray, “This evening, my heavenly father. I thank you that you brought me through another rotation of the earth. I thank you brought me through another day. That I’m able to be in this church tonight and see the western sun. I thank you, Lord. I thank you, Lord that you enable me with a reasonable portion of strength and health that I could gather in this church one more time. I thank you, Lord. I thank you, Lord that you saw beyond my fault and saw my need, picked my feet up from muck and clay and turn me round and planted my feet on solid ground. I thank you, Lord. That your darling son, Jesus came down from forty and two generations of time and hung, bleed, and died on a tree of torture, and got up early, I said, got up early, one morning with all power in his hands. And God, I’m gonna lay down my head for sweet rest tonight, believing the angels will watch over me and rise in the morning, my sheet won’t be the winding cord of a grave cloth and I will feel the blood warmth flow through my veins and my golden moments will roll on a little longer. I thank you, Lord that you lifted me from the pit of sin.”

He kept going on, and the people who had turned their back had turned back around and were saying, “Amen.” “Pray, deacon. Pray. Thank you, Lord”

The deacon got to the point in his pray where he said, “And Lord, tonight with all this stuff we heard, well, Wilmore, I don’t know. Well, Kierkegaard, I don’t know. But there is somebody I know but I haven’t heard his name all night. I think I’ll call him now. Jesus! Jesus! And Lord, when I finish my journey across the sands of time and I stand by the banks of Jordan as the ships go by, and Peter bids me to get on board. Help me to sail across the storm tossed waters of life and walk down the gangplank of salvation. And as soon as my feet strikes on Zion, I will praise you.”

After he finished, John Kinney said to himself, “I’m the one in seminary. I’m the one here to teach you, but when a deacon with nothing more than a 5^th grade education gets up to pray, you get happy? That’s what’s wrong with the church today.” After the service, a lady walked up to him and said, “I can see your pain. But the Lord showed me that there is a fountain bubbling up in you. Young man, I need to tell you something, if you are going to make a difference in this church, and you want folk to drink from that fountain, you best learn to bring my water in a cup I recognize.”

There are things in this world that make us blind even though we think we can see clearly. As I read the gospel story, I was struck by the Pharisees’ response to the man’s testimony. They are unable to see what has happened. They are so concerned about Jesus breaking the law by healing on the Sabbath, that they cannot appreciate the gift they have just witnessed. Here is a man, who has been blind his entire life, he now can see, they should be celebrating! They should be dancing in the streets, firing up the barbeque, and having a good ol’ fashion hootenanny. But they don’t. Instead they question the man over and over again until the man has enough.

He tells the Pharisees, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. Not once since the world began has someone born blind every had their eyes opened. At least none that we have heard. It is obvious he’s not a sinner because God doesn’t listen to sinners. And we know he is from God because if he weren’t he couldn’t open up my eyes!”

The Pharisees become angry because the man dared to teach them. Here is a man with zero education, pointing out to these highly educated religious leaders, these bible believing church folk, something they should know, and what do they do? They throw him out? They drive him away, yelling, “You are nothing more than a blind man, born in sin, and you are trying to teach us?”

They drive him away.

They drive him away because God gave him water from the living fountain in a cup he recognized. The man understood that no one could do such an act without being from God. He knew his history that not once since the world has been made has someone born blind been made to see. He recognizes Jesus as the messiah because he remembered what Isaiah said, “and out of their gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see.”

The blind man recognized Jesus. The ones who could see the most clearly could not so they drive him away.

We’d do well to remember this story as we journey on the road to Easter. Jesus is not turned away by the blind, the deaf, or the poor. He is not turned away by the lame, the crippled, the orphans, or the widows. He is not turned away by the tax collectors and prostitutes. No, he is turned away by followers of the law. He is turned away by the Church. He is nailed to the cross, not by soul sick sinners, but by healthy bible believing church folk. There’s a lesson there for us. We’d do well to remember.

Get on the Road and Stay on the Road!

One evening in Charleston, South Carolina, a young man was feeling very homesick. He had left his home in Kentucky and moved to Charleston to become a professional storyteller. He felt lost and lonely. On his way home, he saw lit up in the dimming light, St. John’s Reformed Episcopal Church.  The shutters were thrown open, and they were having Thursday night experience meeting. He heard the voices singing, “Victory in Jesus” and “On Jordan’s Stormy Banks” and he stood outside the church listening when a little old black lady tapped on his shoulder. Looking at him, she realized he needed what was going on inside, ushered him in and he worshiped with them.

After the singing was done, the preaching began. The preacher got up and read from the text, “Jesus was on the road and all kinds of people were saying they would follow him. One man said, “I’ll follow you but first let me first go and bury my father”, and Jesus told the man, “Let the dead bury the dead but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Another said, “I will follow you but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus finally said, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit to work my field.”

The preacher finished reading the gospel and said, “Our story tonight is about Jesus being on the road. Turn to the person on your right and say, ‘Get on the road!’” and they turned to the person on their right and said, “Get on the road!” Then he said, “Now turn to the person on your left and say, ‘Get on the road!’” and they turned to the person on their left and said, “Get on the road!”

He started slow, the way black preachers do, “You’re on the road, ladies and gentleman. You’re on a journey with Jesus and you’ve got to stay on the road with him. You can’t get distracted. You can’t get sidetracked. Stay on the road.” His cadence picked up, “You women come to me saying, “Oh pray for me. God’s closed up my womb and I can’t have any children.” And we pray for you and God does a miracle and you have five children, ain’t none of them are in Sunday school. I ask you why aren’t they in Sunday school and you say, “Oh I have one in diapers, one allergic to everything, another has baseball. Oh I don’t…” You take God’s blessing and turn it into a curse, get on the road! You boys come to me and say, “I can get a job because I don’t have a car.” So we pray for you and get you a car and I say, “Why aren’t you in church?” and you say, “Oh I’m washing my car.” Get the car on the road to church and Sunday school! Get on the road!”

“You may be on the road following the Lord and you may feel down, you may feel alone, you may feel weary. But I’m here to tell you, you are never alone! The Holy Spirit is with you wherever you go. The Greek word for the Holy Spirit is parakletos. Let me put it to you plainly,” he said as he found his rhythm, “The holy spirit is your parachute. He will help you if you fall. He is your parasol, he will shield you from the storm. He is your paralegal, he will help you in a time of trial. He is your paratrooper, he will still the enemy and the avenger. He is paramedic, he will save your sin sick soul!” (Adapted from Tim Lowry’s spoken story, “Stay on the Road”).

The Israelites are on the road with God. They are wandering through the desert, afraid of the unknown, afraid of where their leader is taking them. Their leader who used to be the prince of Egypt. They are tired and they are thirsty. They demand for their leader to provide for them. “Give us water to drink!” Moses is taken back and becomes defensive, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?” In other words, “Don’t be mad at me. I’m just doing what the Lord says.” But the people, who were thirsty and afraid, heartbreakingly ask, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children, and our livestock with thirst?”

So Moses does what any good pastor does and cries to the Lord, “What shall I do with these people? They are ready to call a session and have me fired!” The Lord answers Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of your deacons with you; take that staff in your hand, the one you struck the Nile with, and go. I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so the people may drink. Then get on the road!”

Moses did so, in the sight of the deacons. He called the place Massah and Meribah, because they quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, ‘Is the Lord among us or not?”

Get on the road!

We are on the road with Jesus. As a church we have been on the road with Jesus for 223 years. We have seen God do amazing things through the work of his Spirit, just as the Israelites experienced the Lord providing food through manna and quail. Yet, as we journey and get thirsty, we forget what the Lord has done and wonder what the Lord will do and we quarrel with one another, “Is the Lord among us or not?” 

We look around and see that we’re low on money. We look around and see buildings falling apart. We look around and see too many people getting older and not enough younger faces to compensate. We look around, see the well is about dried up, not a rain cloud in sight and we are getting thirsty. Give us water, Lord!

And Lord says, “Stay on the road!”

We forget what God has done, ignore what God is doing, and think, “God has abandoned us. God has forsaken us.” Such a time in the churches of today causes us to do some serious questioning which often leads to a consensus that someone in the church has sinned. After a few more parking lot discussions it becomes clear that it is the pastor who has sinned. If the pastor was truly righteous and doing his/her job, the church would be overflowing with blessings. So the church gathers their pitchforks and torches and storm the parsonage gates. The pastor in frustration turns to God, “What am I do with these people?” And God says, “Give them something to drink. And stay on the road!”

Stay on the road!

We’ve got to stay on the road. God is taking us somewhere. God is taking us to the promise land, and I’m not talking about golden streets and green meadows. We’ve got to stay on the road. God is calling us to continue the work of our ancestors. God is calling us to service here in King and Queen County. God’s Spirit is moving within and around us. The Spirit of God is at work. We’ve got to stay on the road!

Jesus is on the road and he stops for a drink at well in Samaria. He asks a woman, “Give me something to drink.” She says to him, “How come a Jew like you is asking for a drink from a Samaritan woman like me?” (She did this as you know because Jews and Samaritans don’t have much to do with one another.)

Jesus says, “If you knew God’s goodness, and who it is asking you for a drink, you would ask him for a drink and he’d give you living water.”

And you know how the rest of the story goes. She is confused about how Jesus can give her living water because that water is deep and he doesn’t have a bucket. He tells her that the water he is talking about is a water that will never let you thirst again. She begs for that kind of water and Jesus tells her to go get her husband and she says she doesn’t have one. Jesus tells her she’s right when in fact she’s had five and the one she’s with now is not her husband. She realizes he’s a preacher and asks a serious question about worship and the two continue to talk until she says, “I realize that Christ is coming. When he does, he’ll straighten us out on everything.” And Jesus says to her, “I myself, the person talking with you, am he!”

And what does she do when she leaves? She doesn’t go back to her home. She doesn’t go back to her room. She doesn’t go to the local bar or to the general store. She gets on the road. She gets on the road and starts preaching! She starts preaching in the town square about a man down by the well who had told her everything she ever did. She then got the town on the road so that they too may drink from the spring of living water.

We have in us the spring of living water. In us, in our essence is a Spirit of living water that will never run dry. It is a Spirit of living water that renews us when our mouths get parched. It is the Spirit of living water that comes right from the rock of Christ. Indeed, on Christ the solid rock we stand, all other ground is sinking sand.

Those of us with the living water need to get up and get on the road.

And stay on the road!

You ever watch the nature channel? I learned this the other day. If you watch the nature channel’s special on the desert, most likely the narrator will begin by saying, “The desert. Void of life.” And then there’s a time lapse and you see the year in the life of the desert flash before your very eyes and you see rain. Then the video slows back down to normal speed and flowers begin to bloom. And the narrator says, “Gotcha. Under the sand of the desert, scattered throughout are little seeds just waiting for water.”

Outside our four walls sits people wandering through the desert. They are tired. They are lonely. They are poor. They are sick. They are lost. They are in need. They are blind. They are crippled. They are outcast. They are addicts. They are young. They are old. They are in need of some water. We need to get on the road and get them some water.

Stay on the road!

Yes, you may feel like we’re dying of thirst here in the desert as our money dries up and our building starts falling apart. Yes, you may feel like we’re getting too old for this stuff. But I remind you, we have the Spirit within us that gives us power, reminds us that we belong to God and that God is not through with us yet. The Spirit who is our parachute, our parasol, our paratrooper, our paralegal, our paramedic.   It is the Spirit that says, “Here’s water, drink, and get back on the road!”

Stay on the road!

And all God’s people said, “Stay on the road!”

Return to the Voice of the Gatekeeper

Every morning I was a youth minister in Richmond, I would walk through a smoky haze that built up under the awning. Under the smoke, on and around a bench sat or stood a group of recovering addicts who in their smoke search for hope. Every morning I said hello and spent a brief moment checking in. When I say moment, I mean a moment, no longer than a minute. For the most part it is no more than a simple hello. Each morning, after the greeting, I walked up the ramp way, unlocked the door, and went inside. Every morning my routine was the same.

One morning, April 20, 2011, it was the Wednesday before Easter, something strange happened. That morning my eyes saw something new. After a brief conversation with a young lady named Kim, I headed up the ramp way, and out of the smoke filled air I heard a voice saying, "I love you. I love you. I love you." I looked back and my eyes became open to what was taking place. There on the bench, as clear as you are to me, sat a long hair, bearded man saying to each one, "I love you. I love you. I love you."

I began to tear up knowing that the voice that was speaking out of the smoke of the desperation, out of the pain, out of the selfishness, out of the ignorance was the voice of the one shepherd who is the good shepherd. The one who says, "I am the gate," "I am the good shepherd," "I am the living water," "I am the bread of life," spoke out of a cloud of nicotine to people who were clinging to whatever hope they have. The voice of the gatekeeper, of the shepherd is bringing life to those who feel they have none.

I unlocked the door and turned back once more and the vision that came just seconds before remained: there sat Jesus saying, "I love you. I love you. I love you."

John 10 takes place right after Jesus heals a man born blind. You may recall this story. Jesus and his disciples are walking along and they pass a blind man. The disciples ask, “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” Jesus responds, “Neither. He is blind so that God's work might be revealed in him.” Jesus then spits on the ground and puts mud in the man's eyes, tells him to wash in the pool. The Blind Man does as he is told and receives his sight. The story doesn't end there, remember?

The man is brought before the Pharisees and questioned. Eventually, he is thrown out of the synagogue for being made whole. Having heard this, Jesus seeks the man out and after revealing himself, the Pharisees near him say, “Surely, we are not blind. Are we?” Jesus responds, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, “We see,” your sin remains.” Jesus then launches into his parable about a gate, gatekeepers, thieves, sheep, shepherds, destruction, and life.

Jesus doesn't speak in parables too often in John's gospel. At least, not parables we're accustomed to in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Those around Jesus look at him confusingly and he kindly explains. He is the gate. He is the gatekeeper. He is the one who has come so that all may have life and have it abundantly. Not only is he the gatekeeper, he is the shepherd. He is the good shepherd who lays down his life freely for his sheep. They know his voice, he calls them by name, and he knows them. Jesus explains, he alone is the gate, the gatekeeper, the shepherd, the voice that brings life.

Jesus' response to the Pharisees is an invitation. It's an invitation to freedom. Freedom from a restricting ideology that prohibits life, denying the light of the world for the people. Freedom from an ideology that only brings about death and destruction. Freedom from an ideology focused to preserve the past by fearing the future and stealing light from the present. Jesus is freeing them from what binds them. In many ways the church today has become the Pharisees of our world. Many of our prominent pastors have abandoned the church for talk shows, news hours, and political office while many others have built churches so great they have become an alter unto themselves, all for the sole purpose of control. Jesus' declaration to be the gate and the good shepherd, frees us from that which binds us: ourselves.

The voice of the gatekeeper brings life; the voice gives life. We fear we aren’t good enough so we ignore the voice. We cower in the dark. We fear we are unlovable and we create a list of rules to give ourselves a sense of security. Our actions say, “If I just follow these rules, I know Jesus will love me.” We fear we're doing it wrong and we put our trust in things of this world, things we can grasp, things we think we understand, instead of placing our trust in the one; the one who is both the gate and the good shepherd. Nothing but ourselves bind us to the voices of destruction and despair.

Jesus says, “I have come that you may have life and have it abundantly.” We yearn to become fully alive. We long to respond the voice that says, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” We desire a life free of our own damning, self-protective habits. Yet, there is a voice that tells us otherwise. A seductive voice that tells us we are unlovable. A voice that manipulates our insecurities and preys on our greatest fears. A voice that is nothing more than despair. A voice that says, “I fail and fail. I sin over and over again. I'm worthless. It is better that I get out of people's way, be forgotten, no longer around, dead.”

Christ has come to open our ears to another voice that says:

"I am your God, I have molded you with my own hands, and I love what I have made. I love you with a love that has no limits. Do not run away from me. Come back to me--not once, not twice, but always again. You are my child. How can you ever doubt that I will embrace you again, hold you against my breast, kiss you and let my hands run through your hair? I am your God--the God of mercy and compassion, the God of pardon and love, the God of tenderness and care. Please do not say that I have given up on you, that I cannot stand you any more, and that there is no way back. It is not true. I so much want you to be with me. I so much want you to be close to me. I know all your thoughts. I hear all your words. I see all of your actions. And I love you because you are beautiful, made in my image, an expression of my most intimate love. Do not judge yourself. Do not condemn yourself. Do not reject yourself. Let my love touch the deepest, most hidden corners of your heart and reveal to you your own beauty, a beauty that you have lost sight of, but that will become visible to you again in the light of my mercy. Come, come, let me wipe your tears, and let my mouth come close to your ear and say to you, 'I love you. I love you. I love you.'" (Nouwen, Henri, Show Me the Way, p.76-77)

There is a voice that cries to those of us who feel lost in the wilderness. A voice that cries out to us and says, "You are loved." It is a voice that knows our name. It is a voice that we know. A voice that cuts to our core. A voice that relieves our doubts, our fears. A voice that accepts. A voice that loves unconditionally. It is the voice of gatekeeper. It is the voice of Christ.

Listen to that voice. Hear the voice call your name. Hear the voice call you home and return. It reminds me of a story:

There was a man who had two sons. The younger son came to him and demanded his inheritance. The father divided his property between them and the younger son left home. He spends the entire fortune on women, wine, and dissolute living. Broke, he begs for a job feeding pigs. One day he decides, “I will go back to my father, after all how many of his hired hands are treated better than this. I will leave here, go to him, ask to be forgiven and to be hired.” So, he leaves. While the younger son was still far off, the father saw him and was filled with compassion; the father runs to him throwing his arms around him and kisses him. The son begins his practiced speech but the father tells a slave, “Bring some clothes, put a ring on his finger and shoes on his feet. Get the fatted calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate! For my son has returned.”

The younger son, in no uncertain terms, wished his father dead when he demanded his inheritance. His motivation to return to his father is not out of a renewed love. He doesn't even really want to be a part of the family again. He simply wants to be hired. His motivation is about his own security. His own safety. He returns to simply survive. Here's the kicker, the father doesn't care. He doesn't even allow his son to finish his confession. He embraces him saying, “He's back home, and I am so glad to have him with me again.”

Let us listen to that voice of the gatekeeper, the voice of our good shepherd, and let us return home.

From Scarcity to Abundance

In 1988 my family moved from Waco, Texas to Lowell, Arkansas to help take care of my nana who was dying from lung cancer. We lived in a neat little duplex, something I just learned back in December when Connor and I went down for my grandmother’s 80^th birthday, in Springdale, just a few miles from Lowell. We lived there from September until Decembers and then moved in with my nana and papaw after an addition had been added on to their farmhouse.

I thoroughly enjoyed living there on the farm. There was always something to do for a kid who had an imagination like mine. There were broken down barns, rusty chicken houses, giant fields of grapes and peach trees, and I could run from their house to my memaw’s house, my uncle Clyde’s house, and to my Aunt Jerry’s house and go swimming whenever I wanted. While we were living there we had a chocolate lab, I’ve told you about her, named Fudge. Now Fudge was a great dog. She was as tall as horse and David could ride her. She was sweet and playful but she had knack for running off and getting pregnant.

One day my brother and I are in the chicken house, which was really just a long metal shed that on the farm that kept the tractor dry and housed my papaw’s tools and other junk. Anyway, we’re in this decrepit chicken house building some gadget that was supposed to be make our Radio Flyer fly when we heard this little yelp. We followed the noise and discovered the coolest treasure ever, puppies! Apparently, Fudge had ran off one day, gotten pregnant and gave birth to a litter of puppies. I think there was about eight or nine of these little ones.

My brother and I came out each carrying one followed by Fudge and the rest of the pups. We hollered for my mom and out she came, just as surprised as we were. When my dad got home we began to name them. Of the pups I can recall Bullet and Cocoa. Bullet was named after my dad’s beloved black lab and Cocoa was named cocoa because she looked like nestle cocoa. We eventually gave the pups away with Cocoa and another going to live my friends Heather and Leigh Garrett.

I remember this story as if it were yesterday because it was a moment in which I discovered how the dark cannot ever overcome the light. We often protect what is ours by ensuring our future through endowments, hedge funds, retirement 401ks, and in other forms. We get caught up in trying to fill in what we don’t have instead of seeing what we do have. We let the darkness creep in and steal the light from us, convincing us that we have nothing. We function from a place of scarcity, protective of the light we have while the dark continues to cover the earth.

The year we spent living with my nana and papaw was probably one of the darkest years for my parents. My mom became a substitute teacher while my dad worked as a salesman for a company called Mantek until my nana got worse and he began to work as a tire salesman at Moore Tire in Lowell. We were poor but we didn’t know it. My brother and I were completely unaware of the financial struggles of our parents. But we weren’t unaware of the struggles of our nana. Within days after moving in with Nana and Papaw, she got worse and worse. She refused to do radiation or chemo because she didn’t want to lose her hair. While she was dying, there was no hiding from that fact, my brother and I were discovering the excitement living on a farm. We were discovering the little corners of light in the dark. We were discovering how beautiful this quaint farm town was. We were learning about our family history and we were getting to spend a lot of time with our entire family. While darkness crept in, we were being submerged in light.

There is an interesting play between light and dark throughout the Gospel of John. John calls Jesus the light of the world. He says the life of Christ or life in Christ is the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. Jesus is the Word of God and that word gives life and light. Sometimes though the world doesn’t accept it. The light of Christ shines in the darkness exposing all the sin, the greed, the angst, the struggle, and suddenly we learn that we really are poor. The revelation of our poverty stricken nature sends us into an existential crisis. Everything we thought we knew we question and we run back into the darkness. We are reliant on the darkness because the darkness is familiar. The darkness is comfortable and the darkness is how we are accustomed to living.

Sometimes we need a little yelp to move toward the light.

Do you know what the difference is between the poor widow’s offering and the offering of the wealthy in Luke?

The difference between the poor widow’s offering and the offering of the wealthy is the widow was giving out of her poverty. Meaning she was able to empty herself for others. The wealthy gave out of their wealth. They gave out of what they believed they could part with. It didn’t cost the wealthy anything but it cost the widow everything she had. Yet she was willing to give because it wasn’t hers.

Henri Nouwen calls it the poverty of inner disposition, we know it as being poor in spirit. It is an inner spiritual disposition that allows us to take away our defenses and convert our enemies into friends. It is a disposition that says, “Please enter—my house is your house, my joy is your joy, my sadness is your sadness, and my life is your life (Nouwen, “Hospitality” Show Me the Way pg. 31).” It is a disposition of giving from our poverty because we understand that what we have does not belong to us but to God. It is being poor in spirit.

When speaking of spiritual poverty we are speaking of an inner disposition, an inner ethic that views what we have differently. Such a disposition would allow us to view our lives from the perspective of abundance. Instead of seeing life in terms of what we don’t have, we see it in terms of what we have in abundance. It transforms us to be more willing to give out of poverty because we no longer see ourselves as poor but abundant.

As I read the story of the sinful woman who interrupts Jesus during dinner at Simon’s house I am reminded what it means to see our spiritual poverty as abundance. You are most likely familiar with this story:

A certain church member invited him home for dinner. Jesus accepted and went into the church member’s house and sat down. Then a shady lady of the town, who had heard that Jesus was being entertained at the church member’s home, brought a bottle of high-priced perfume. She sat at his feet sobbing, and her tears began to wet his feet. She dried them with her long dark hair and kissed his feet and dabbed on some of the perfume.

When the church member who invited him saw what was going on, he thought to himself, “If this man was the Son of God, he would know the type of woman this is. She is a sinner.”

Jesus turned to him and said, “Simon, I want to ask you a question. Two certain people owed a debt to a certain banker. One owed five hundred dollars while the other owed only fifty. Neither were able to pay this banker back, so he cancelled both their debts. Which one, do you suppose, will love him more?”

Simon thought hard before answering, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt.”

“Right you are!” Jesus said, “Do you see this woman? I came into your home yet you did not give me any water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered hasn’t stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore I tell you that she has been forgiven for much as seen by her great gratitude. But he who has been forgiven little loves little” (Luke 7:36-47. NRSV, Cotton Patch Gospel).

She is an example of what it means to be poor in spirit. She recognizes her dependence on God’s delivering grace thus she gives freely from that disposition because she sees what she has as abundance. She freely gives of herself to Jesus out of gratitude for what she has been given.

Often we look around and see what we don’t have. We see we do not have an abundance of money, time, energy, or other economic resources. But what if we look around us and saw what we do have an abundance of? What would we see? Would we see an abundance of compassion? Would we see an abundance of love? Would we see an abundance of concern? Would see an abundance of grace, forgiveness, patience, smiling faces, welcoming people, good cooks, and people? What is it that keeps us from giving out of our poverty so that others may see abundance?

Many of us have been given a lot. Many of us have been forgiven of a lot, yet we love very little. We are very protective of what little we have. The challenge this Lenten season is not only to give up what binds us to see our stuff as ours, but to be transformed so that we may see what we have in abundance and give for what have belongs to God. It is to move out of the darkness of this world and into the light of Christ.

Jesus is the word of God and that word gives life and light. Those who wish to follow Christ need to recognize where that light shines. It shines in the dark corners of our lives. It exposes our sin and we are left with the choice to mourn and repent or cower back into the dark. When we choose the latter, when we choose to shrink, to cower back into the darkness, we deny ourselves and others the abundance of light in their life. We keep our heads down and ignore the sinful nature of our government, our leaders, of our society, of ourselves, and we deny others the light. We deny them forgiveness and change. We deny them abundance of God’s delivering grace all because we don’t like what the light shines on.

When the light shines in the darkness and we see how the darkness cannot overcome it, we are able to have courage. We are able to be poor in spirit for we know nothing can separate us from God’s everlasting love. We are able to be poor in spirit for we know we are dependent on God’s grace. We are able to be poor in spirit when we let the light shine in for we know God is with us. And we know God is with us we are able to humble ourselves, give freely out of our poverty because we are in lack but in abundance. We are in abundance of God’s everlasting light.

One sunny day the inevitable happened. I went into my nana’s room, gave her a kiss, told her I loved her, and outside I went to play. It was such a beautiful day. I can recall it in my mind as if it were yesterday. The sun shined brightly, the sky was bluer than I ever saw it, and the light of life was everywhere. An hour or so later I came running around the front of the house to find an ambulance and out came the paramedics with my nana wrapped in a body bag. The last image I have of my nana is a black bag being wheeled to an ambulance. For the longest time I couldn’t enter into hospitals or funeral homes or be around sick people because it was too painful. It was as if they would shine a flashlight in the corner of my mind to dredge up a memory I long wish to forget. One day I decided that wasn’t going to be the last image I would have of my nana. The last image I have chosen is twofold: I remember her sitting in her rocking chair at our last Christmas gathering. She rocked back and forth laughing and enjoying the surprise in me and David’s eyes. And I remember making milkshakes with my dad and papaw and making a fourth for Nana. We gathered by her beside as she grasped for air and we drank our milkshakes, my dad, my papaw, my nana, and me. And that is the light that shines in the darkness. And the darkness will never overcome it.

 

Strive to Make them Your Brother, Your Sister

Audio here

Over the past few weeks I have stressed the importance of the Sermon on the Mount to the Christian faith. I believe for each of the teachings of Jesus in his Sermon are designed to transform the hearers. He acknowledges the vicious cycles that leads to prison, judgment, divorce, and war. Among those in the crowd listening to his words are people who were the victims of people’s greed, people’s anger, people’s abuse of power. These teachings are not about passivity but an initiative to confront those that harm others.

When the crowd hears: “Turn the other cheek” they are hearing, “When someone slaps you on the right check. An insulting act by someone who was taking you as inferior. Turning the other cheek means to stand up to the one who struck you and affirm your own dignity as an equal, human person, but without violence.” It seizes the initiative, Jesus suggests, grabbing hold of the moment and creates a retaliation that is transformative. The one who struck you will either have to recognize your dignity as an equal person by striking you on the left check or would have to back off (Stassen, Glen. Just Peacemaking: Transforming Initiative for Just and Peace, pg. 64).

When the crowd hears: “Give up your coat” they are hearing, “The law and the prophets spoke of how creditors who would lend to someone who was needy and taking their coat as a guarantee would need to return to them at the end of the day because it might be their only source of warmth. Because it would be impractical for someone to sue for your coat, because they’d have to return it every night, the rich person is suing you for your shirt instead. Give them your coat as well.”

Like turning the other cheek, it is not a passive action. It is an opportunity to seize the initiative and confront in a transformative manner. It is transformative because it means “you are standing there naked in front of the one suing you, in court. In Jewish culture, this is a huge embarrassment for the creditor and everyone else. It confronts the creditor with his or her greed and his or her unjust violation of the spirit of the law, if not the letter. And Jesus’ Jewish audience would have laughed at the audacity, the embarrassment, and the disclosure of the creditor’s greed, exposed for all to see, just as naked as your naked body. Thus you, the poor person, seemingly without power, seize the initiative and confront the injustice, putting great pressure on the creditor to repent and be transformed. It is no strategy of passivity. It is a transforming initiative” (pg. 66).

When the crowd hears, “When someone demands you walk with them a mile, go a second,” they hear: “When the Roman solider forces you to carry their pack a mile, as they are allowed to do by the Roman government, instead of begrudgingly doing so, go a second mile.” Jesus offers an alternative response to a practice that bred anger, resentment, and rebellion that leads to war. He urges the hearers to respond to a hostile entitled command in a form of voluntary escort after the prescribed mile. Such goodness and graciousness would disarm the Roman and he would be astounded. The hearers would take the initiative away from the Roman soldier and evil is repaid with good and in all probability in the course of the second mile a friendly conversation will be begin to develop (pg. 66).

Jesus is making a clear case, not for passivity or pacifism, but transforming responses, initiatives that break the vicious cycles and allow us to fully participate in the kingdom of God, to be active participants in God’s Movement. When injustice is done, Jesus says, do not remain still. Do not remain inactive. Do not simply turn the other cheek and say, “May I have another, sir?” Confront the adversary. Confront the wrong done. Confront the harm caused. Seek to transform them in the love of God. But instead of repaying evil with evil, violence with violence, repay with overwhelming goodness so that you might win him!”

As this is settling in, Jesus makes another proclamation to drive home his point and when the crowd hears: “You have heard it said, “love your neighbors and hate your enemies” but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your God,” they hear, “Love of one's enemies means far more than covering things up with a smile by tolerating enemies or holding them at a distance with politeness; it entails an honest effort, a campaigning and struggling with them, so that they change, give up their hate, and become reconciled. In short--a theopolitics of little loving steps aimed at making the enemy cease to be an enemy” (Lapide, Pinchas. The Sermon on the Mount, pg. 97-98).

“Strive against your adversary,” Jesus says again, “Strive to make him your brother.” Strive to bring him in instead of alienating. Strive to give grace. Strive to give love. Strive against your adversary and strive to make him your brother.”

Jesus himself was struck and slapped, and his garments were taken from him. So these are actions that imitate Christ. These actions imitate Simon of Cyrene who was forced to carry the cross of Jesus to the place of the skull. These actions are actions of sacrifice. These actions are actions of a follower Christ. These actions are actions of participants of God’s movement.

I think I may have shared this story before, we’ve reached a point to where I may be retelling stories, but I want to share this one again. Several years ago, I made a reluctant trip to Argentina as a part of our Mission Immersion Experience in seminary. The church we visited in Buenos Aries was one of the poorest churches in the area. It was a storefront style church sitting among the retailers and businesses surrounded by chaos and busyness. A few years before our visit, Argentina had experienced an economic collapse. Inflation became so bad that within a day a candy that cost .50 cents in the morning was almost $3 by the afternoon.

On that day, several of the wealthiest people in Buenos Aries lost their jobs and were suddenly in danger in losing of their way of life. After weeks of prayer, the poor church in downtown decided to pull together their meager resources, rented a storefront office and began to minister to the wealthy. They took their limited resources and went to them. They went to their adversaries, to the ones who dined in the scraps of a trickle down economy went to the ones who dined in luxury. Instead of rejoicing at their downfall, they said to one another, “They are children of God too and we must strive to make them our brothers and sisters.” They turned the other cheek, they gave their coat; they walked the second mile. They did not repay evil with evil but with overwhelming goodness. And they succeeded.

Why should we become participants in God’s Movement, in the Kingdom of God? Because Jesus says so? Well, yea but it’s more than because, as Mr. Rogers says, “As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has--or ever will have--something inside that is unique to all time. It's our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression."

Do you know why our youth are leading the children in worship once a month? Because one day they decided they wanted to be active participants in God’s Movement. They no longer wished to sit there, merely bystanders, instead they wanted to use their gifts and I said yes. I said yes because I believe that one day, 3-10 years from now, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, or seventy of them will stand before us ready to attend seminary, become missionaries, teachers, doctors, lawyers, or go into the jobs of their dreams, and we will lay our hands and ordain them to the ministry of Jesus Christ. I believe that. Shouldn’t we all?

The Sermon on the Mount breaks the vicious cycles that keep us from seeing one another as our neighbor, as a fellow child of God. We seek to strive to make our adversaries and our enemies our brothers and our sisters because they are a fellow child of God. When we break these vicious cycles, when we chose to follow Jesus, and participate in the kingdom of God, we share our blessings with others, we hunger and thirst for righteousness. We give out of what we have, knowing everything belongs to God.

The truth is we have been participants in the vicious cycles that continue to send us into war and that creates division and alienation. If we look closely, very closely to the acts of our youth, we will see how they teach us to break the vicious cycles we buy in to. Instead of seeking to separate themselves from our community, they seek to include. They seek to lead from within. They hunger and thirst for righteousness by reaching out to their younger church family, to their friends. Sharing God’s love through their service to others. They freely give of themselves instead of holding on to what they believe is theirs. To quote Mr. Rogers again: “The real issue in life is not how many blessings we have, but what we do with our blessings. Some people have many blessings and hoard them. Some have few and give everything away.”

Jesus ended the Sermon on the Mount with a story and I feel it’s only right to do the same: “Everyone who hears these of mine,” Jesus says, “and acts on them will be like a wise person who built her house on rock. Down came the rain, up rose the floods, out lashed the winds. They all cut at that house, and it didn’t fall! Because that house was on rock foundation.

And everyone who hears these words of mine and fails to act on them shall be like a foolish person who built his house on the sand. Down came the rain, up rose the floods, out lashed the winds. They all cut at that house, and what do you know, it fell! And my, oh my, what a great fall it was (Matthew 7:24-28 NRSV & Cotton Patch Gospel).”