B Lent 3 BFC 2015
Psalm 19
March 8, 2015
The great New
England poet, Mary Oliver, speaks of how her much-loved poetry began with
walking in the woods, notebook in hand, scribbling things as she listened to
what the cycles, rhythms, and routines of the created order told her. Sometimes she would enter that wooded world
with a mountain of books that fed her mind and heart. But often she was in motion—walking,
listening. She refers to it as listening
deeply, listening convivially, listening to the world, knowing that the Divine
speaks through the “wild, silky part of ourselves.”[1] For Oliver, this walking in the woods and
scribbling notes in her notebook, became a regular spiritual discipline, a
practice--that opened her up to wisdom and mystery taught by the good earth God
created. She referred to this practice
as gathering food. Mary Oliver writes, “The
world is: fun, and familiar, and healthful, and unbelievably refreshing, and
lovely. And it is the theater of the spiritual; it is the multiform utterly
obedient to a mystery.”[2]
Sit down with
these words from Mary Oliver and a Bible sometime. Read Psalm 19 and then turn to Oliver’s
words. Lean back into the resonance that
you find in beauty after beauty.
With Ash
Wednesday, we began the journey, the pilgrimage, that is the hard road of Lent. With the beginning of journey, we are asked
deep questions about what it means to be human (of grounded and material
substance of the earth) and what it means to be Divine (of ultimate worth and
value). Within the Judeo-Christian
narrative, what is human and what is Divine are not necessarily poles on
opposing ends of the spectrum. There is
a sense in that narrative that the Divine must be lived and struggled and loved
into through becoming fully human. So it
is that when we come to grips with our grounded and material substance, fully
human, we learn to live and struggle and love into what is of ultimate worth
and value, our Divinity. We become the
people God has fully appointed us to be.
“From ashes and dust you were made, to ashes and dust you shall
return.” And you reply, “I was made in
the image of God.” It is the hard road
of Jesus and his followers—to affirm our humanity on the road to our
divinity.
So it is then, we
ask, “When did Jesus become Divine?” New
Zealand heretic, Lloyd Geering, recognizes that there is an objective and a
subjective answer to “becoming.” He likens
an understanding of these two answers to how one ascends to high-ranking
political offices. For example, we might
ask, “When did Barak Obama become President of the United States?” The
objective answer would be that Barak Obama became President of the United States
when he defeated Hillary Rodham Clinton for the Democratic nomination and then
won the necessary votes that gave him the necessary electoral college numbers
to defeat the Republican nominee, John McCain.
Barack Obama then took the oath of office in January of the next year to
become President of these United States.
The subjective
reality has to do with how myth and objective process intertwine to win over
hearts and minds. Some might say that
Barack Obama became President of the United States when he stood before the
Lincoln gravesite in Springfield, Illinois, fully aware of his place in
history, and announced his candidacy.
Others might say that Barack Obama became President of the United States
with the release of his popular autobiography or after his speech at the
Democratic National Convention long before he announced his candidacy. Those mythological moments, filled not only with
history but also how people made meaning out of them, some might argue, sealed
his future, made his rise to the presidency seem inevitable. Others might say he became President only
because he is Black and created sympathies among a league of voters who became
galvanized with his candidacy. Still
others might say he became president when it was clear he would not continue
the policies of George W. Bush. Or when
the liberal elite among the media fell heads over heels, romantically in love,
with his candidacy. Hear in every one of
those answers a subjective value system.
It is like the
Biblical King David who foreshadows being the Shepherd of all of Israel through
his beginnings as a shepherd boy, who shows his ability to conquer nations
greater than Israel by slaying the giant Goliath. Subjectively, the Biblical storyteller might
say, you could see David was destined to be king by who he was as a child. For the Bible is not a history book. The Bible is always, warts and all, a book
seeking to make meaning.
Objective answers
refer to events that happened.
Subjective answers can be no less true but are value judgments made by a
wide array of people. What Christianity
has seen is a diversity of subjective answers interpreted into objective
affirmations by later generations losing the difference between subjective and
objective.
Since we have no
literal history of Jesus’ life and ministry, and there is no political office
like Messiah, Christ, or Son of God, we receive a wide variety of subjective
answers for when Jesus lived, struggled, and loved into these divine
titles. But we can only receive
subjective answers.
In the Gospel of
Mark, the earliest Gospel authored, Jesus is proclaimed Messiah and Son of God
in the first chapter, first verse. But
those titles are used as frames. The
author of Mark has those titles announced and confessed at the beginning of
Jesus’ public ministry, by Peter almost exactly dead center in Mark’s center when
Jesus asks who people say that he is, and, to frame the Gospel of Mark, by the
Roman centurion upon Jesus’ death.
Matthew and Luke intend to make Jesus Messiah as announced by angels in
Bethlehem through their birth stories.
John, the latest of all the Gospels authored, makes divine claims for
Jesus not from the beginning of his ministry, or even his birth, but from the very beginning of all time. Later and later gospels make earlier and
earlier claims to Jesus’ divinity. Those
claims also move from Jesus as political liberator and king in the titles Messiah and Son of God, to the fully
Divine title as one with God, as God.
In the beginning, John declares, was the Word and the Word was not only
with God but was God.
Finally, the
writer of the Acts of the Apostles has the apostle Peter, in a speech on
Pentecost Day, declare that Jesus became Lord and Christ in his death and
resurrection. Acts 2:22-36.
Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man
attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs which God did
through him in your midst . . . you crucified and killed by the hands of
lawless man . . . This Jesus God raised up, and of that we are all witnesses .
. . Let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made him both Lord
and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.
In his
resurrection, God has made him both Lord and Christ.[3]
So which is it? When did Jesus “become” Divine? Even the Gospels have various answers.
In the Gospel of Mark and in this passage I
read from the Acts of the Apostles, is this clear Jewish understanding that
Jesus is living and struggling and loving into his divine appointments by
becoming fully human, in walking the hard road that is before him.
As someone who is often failing but
struggling to live into the Divine myself, Mark and the Acts of the Apostles
are the subjective answers I treasure.
This back and forth of what it means to be
human and divine was captured so well in the back and forth between Buzz and
Woody in the animated “Toy Story” movies.
They are wisdom stories we have heard over and over again in our
Biblical narratives. When humankind
seeks to be god, we lose our ability to be fully human. When we recognize our necessary limits and
boundaries to be fully human, however, we become incredibly Divine.
In using the voices of familiar actors like
comedian Don Rickles, as Mr. Potato Head, Cliff from “Cheers”, the actor John
Ratzenberger, as the plastic piggy bank, Hamm; Annie Potts from “Designing
Women” as Bo Peep; Joan Cusack from
Saturday Night Live as the cowgirl, Jessie, and the Academy Award winning actor
Tom Hanks as the good-natured cowboy and toy community leader, “Woody”, we are
aware that all of these toys are a community of diverse personalities available
for the child in their life, Andy. One
might even say they function as a church community. The rules of the toy world seem to be that
when no person is around to observe them, as we all might suspect, they come to
life and interact with one another.
Every parent who has ever put toys away and comes back later to find
them scattered throughout the room knows this reality. When unobserved, the toys are free to go on
adventures, have romance, and do what every church does, hold meetings. My favorite toy is the large, plastic green
dinosaur called, of course, “Rex,” given voice by the great actor, Wallace
Shawn. The humor is found in the
contrast between one of the greatest real-life predators the world has ever
known, the Tyrannosaurus Rex, and the plastic Rex who is always wringing his
hands in anxiety over the smallest of things.
I laughed out loud the first time Rex said, “I don’t like
confrontations.”
In the first movie,
comes the brand spankin’ newest toy, Buzz Lightyear whose gadgetry and
technology threaten to unseat the group’s leader, Woody, the ole cowpoke, and
his favored relationship status with the child, Andy. Will Andy forever choose Buzz over
Woody? Heck, it seems Buzz is even
moving in on Woody’s girlfriend over there.
That is not cool. Or will Woody
find a way to “off” Buzz so that he can continue his role as “Andy’s favorite”
and leader of the toy community? Did
Woody really push Buzz out the window or did it happen by accident? That is so not cool.
One of the great
debates that the new Buzz Lightyear, Saturday morning cartoon character that he
was, brought to the toy room was what it means to be a “toy.” It rhymed with many of the theological
conversations we have about what it means to be “human” and “Divine”, an
important understanding and way of moving through the world during Lent.
Buzz Lightyear,
unaware of his “toy” status, thinks he can fell people with the lazer found on
his spacesuit (which amounts to an annoying red light), thinks he can fly with
high pressure space wings (which are really just pop out props), thinks he can
fight with his karate chop action, and thinks he can communicate with Space
Command with his locking wrist communicator.
Woody, trying to disabuse Buzz of his superhero status, tells him that
Lightyear is just, just and only, a child’s plaything. Woody is only half right.
Buzz will have
none of it, until, sadly, he sees a commercial which confirms his toy
status. Buzz’s attempts to be a
superhero are not only comical but put the rest of the community at risk and
threaten to destroy his relationships with the rest of the toys. When not only
Buzz, but all of the toys accept their necessary gifts and limitations, they
are more than just toys. Buzz uses his
innate leadership ability to complete tasks with and for his cohorts. Buzz
uses his laser, not to harm others, but to temporarily blind his
adversaries. And finally, by using
momentum, angles and height and his pop-out props as wings, Buzz flies. He soars.
By accepting who he is as a toy, Buzz becomes, well, he becomes nothing
short of a superhero.
In knowing himself
to be a toy, Buzz becomes more than a toy.
He knows who he is. He knows his
strengths. He knows his
limitations. It is in keeping with that
saying posted in my locker room in high school, “To know thyself is the
ultimate form of aggressiveness.” We can
walk into the world boldly. And to know
ourselves is something we must live into, struggle into, love into, attentive
to the sheer silence of God, the collective wisdom of our community, and the
way our individual and communal experiences have shaped and formed us.
We might say, “What
glory is there in being just ‘human’?”
And God responds, “That is the glory of who I created you to be . . . as
my shadow upon the earth.”
In a culture that
values individual freedom and achievement and ambition, Lent is an all too
infrequent call to know the limits and boundaries to which God has appointed
us; to know that God’s providence is sometimes found in knowing that we cannot
do it all and are not expected to do it all.
These are gifts, our glory, in our relationship with God, our
relationship with the earth, and our relationship with each other.
We see this in the
Psalm that is before us for today. It
begins with seeing how God’s glory is found in those places in creation that
keep their appointed routes, limits, and times.
The sun rises and sets. In fact,
the sun dawning is like a marriage partner bounding out of the bedroom after
good sex on the wedding day. No
lie. A sunrise may never be the same for
you again. Our Whole Lives indeed!
I love these lines
from Psalm 19: “Day to day pours for the
speech. Night to night declares
knowledge. There is no spoken word that
gives this speech or knowledge. There
are no words which can share its wisdom.”
It is the psalmnist saying that nature is an example, in running the
created courses and cycles given to it, becomes divine. So as we live out the circuits, courses, and
rhythms, the limits and boundaries that are appointed to us as human beings,
become fully human, we become something more.
We become divine.
That is why the
Our Whole Lives training and curriculum is so central to the mission of this
church. We learn and teach the necessary
limits and boundaries to define healthy circuit, course, and rhythm. We want our children growing into adults and
bounding from their bedrooms with their partners to say, “Mmmm, that was as
good as the sunrise.” It is why “Not in
Our Town” is such a defining experience and truth for our congregation. We recognize the necessary limits against the
freedoms of others so that nobody believes that “hate speech” and action
directed against other peoples, which denigrates and demeans, is the appointed
cycle, circuit, course, and rhythm. And
now, the challenge is before all of us, to remember how creation teaches us to
not exceed our limits and boundaries so that creation itself does not lose its
balance, circuits, courses, and rhythms.
The atmosphere, the environment, all of God’s good creation is begging
us to remember who we are as human and not God, so that we might join in the
Divine processes given to us.
It is why the
author of Psalm 19 can refer to the Law as desired more than gold, even much
fine gold, sweeter also than honey. To
know our place in the world, where we are healthy, blessed, kept, and held by a
structure and form is perfect freedom.
We can stride boldly into that place for we learn how far we can
go. We know how far is too far.
There is a
necessary testing of boundaries and limits found in community so that the
still-speaking and working and moving God will not be confined by ways which
discourage the flourishing and growth of the earth and of humankind. But I
believe, in this day and age, we too often find ourselves caught in a stage of
perpetual adolescence where we collectively thumb our nose at the ways God has
always worked and think we can continue to get away with it.
As a planet, as a
people, as God’s created order, I believe we are being taught that we must learn
to love the limits and boundaries God has given to us so that we might know we
are held and kept and blessed, or we may soon perish. Those debates are going on right now in
Washington, Helena, and Billings. We
must, like Mary Oliver, find regular practices that put us, as individuals,
covenanted partners, and communities, in touch with our wild, silky selves,
bounding out of the bedroom, fully human.
For those regular circuits, courses, and rhythms have much to teach us
about what it means to be Divine. Oliver
the poet writes: "I go down to the shore in the morning /
and depending on the hour the waves / are rolling in or moving out, / and I
say, oh, I am miserable, / what shall— / what should I do? And the sea says /
in its lovely voice: / Excuse me, I have work to do."[4]
May we be the
wild, silky things God intended us to be, fully human with necessary limits. So that we might be, flying, soaring,
bounding~Divine. Praise God. Amen.
[1] “Transcript for Mary Oliver—Listening to the
World,” OnBeing with Krista Tippett¸
February 5, 2015. http://onbeing.org/program/mary-oliver-listening-to-the-world/transcript/7271#main_content.
[2] Ibid.
[3]
Lloyd Geering, “How Did Jesus Become God—and
Why?,” The Fourth R, Vol. 11-5,
September-October 1998, http://www.westarinstitute.org/resources/the-fourth-r/how-did-jesus-become-god/.
[4]
“Mary Oliver.” OnBeing.
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