Earth Day

Showing posts with label The Sixth Sense. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Sixth Sense. Show all posts

Friday, May 18, 2018

Sixth Sunday of Easter, "Resurrection is about vindication of a righteous life"


B Easter 6 OL BFC 2018 (Resurrection)
Psalm 90; Luke 24:31; Matthew 28:19-20; John 21:13
May 6, 2018

I began this sermon series by talking about what happens when only the good die young, particularly among a community of people.  What happens when those who are most faithful are murdered?  One of the other big faith questions is, “How do we explain the existence of evil in the light of a good God—and not only the existence of evil, how do we explain evil triumphant?”  What does that say about God’s power and justice? 
I included verses from Psalm 90 in our Responsive Affirmation for today because I believe this psalm reflects a turn that is beginning to happen in Jewish thought and theology.  The people are in the midst of oppression and persecution.  They believe that the Almighty God runs the world.  But what is this?  Is it God’s wrath that leads to our persecution and oppression?  Why do we suffer so much as a people?  Our days on the earth are short.  Why is God kindled against us?  How long, O God, how long?  How long do we suffer in this persecution and oppression?  When will your wrath be done with us?
Then . . . the turn to a God who may not be responsible for the people out of control but through a different value.  “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love.”  Let our good days be as many as our evil days.  If we are working on behalf of you, O God, prosper the work of our hands. 
There is this question hanging in the air—unspoken but, I believe, felt deeply in Psalm 90.  Is God fair?  Is God just?  And Psalm 90 seems to be hanging on the tip of that question.  Would God indeed make our days evil even if we continue to work on behalf of God?
I have tried to include the full turn made by Jesus as a Jewish prophet in the “Prayer of Approach” for today.  “Is the world the way that it is because you will it to be so, Just One?”  I believe Jesus answers an emphatic, “No!”  And Jesus then asks for our labor and collaboration to complete the transformation of the world, to do as God wills. 
Is God fair?  Is God just?  Would God indeed make our days evil even if we continue to work on behalf of God?
As the Jewish people experience empire after empire, the resulting persecution and oppression, resurrection becomes the answer to those questions.  God raises people, even a nation, stands them up in their graves to vindicate and validate the work of their hands.
Remember that Rome crucified faithful Jews as a way of saying that Rome decided what was morally right and wrong, whom the gods favor and whom the gods see as barbaric.  If state violence was used against you, knowing that the gods had brought Rome its military victories and imperial wealth, the gods had effectively passed judgment against you.  No matter what the State did to you, it is YOU who are the lawless, the barbarian.  Your life held no value.  We have effectively liquidated you and hope we liquidated your memory.  Your life was wicked, wrong, and immoral.  The gods have spoken.  
Resurrection is a way of responding to say, “No!  This is not the end.  What you thought was true, the official press release, the conviction and execution of what you considered a criminal.” The Living God has the final word and where Rome interpreted evil, God sees good, an authoritative life. 
Let me illustrate with an example.  Way back in 1999, a movie with one of the best surprise twists was the talk of the town.  “The Sixth Sense” was all about a six- year-old boy, Cole Sear, who has an extra perception or ability, to see dead people, and the dead people don’t seem to know that they are dead.  Cole, as a little boy, is quite naturally terrified by the resurrected, thinking they are evil and meant to bring him harm, and they are made even more terrifying because these dead seem to be so ardent about communicating with Cole while they manifest to him the way that they died--one has an axe still lodged in his skull, a bike rider still has the blood trickling down his forehead from his accident, and a young girl repeatedly vomits in his presence. 
With the help of a child psychologist, Cole, begins to communicate with these dead people.  The young girl vomiting wants Cole to know that her little sister is slowly being poisoned, as was done to her, by their mother putting radiator fluid into her soup.  Cole must courageously engage the dead girl, who cannot stop throwing up, retrieve a video she made of her mother doing the poisoning, and give the video to the still grieving father at her own wake.  Cole must save the dead girl’s sister from the same fate.  Cole learns that although resurrection can indeed be terrifying, once he befriends those resurrected, he is able to help the universe return to its just, moral axis.  These resurrections are a moral vindication of their lives.
Throughout the movie, Lynn Sear, Cole’s mother, a single mother, has been fighting like heck to save Cole.  She is frazzled by all of life.  And struggles to keep all that she juggles up in the air—the bills, her home, her two jobs, and her dear, dear son.  Lynn Sear loves her son, Cole—desperately.   But how do you believe that your son sees dead people come back to life?  No matter how much you want to believe your six-year-old, how do you believe that?  Though Cole tells her he sees dead people and talks to them, Lynn Sear adamantly refuses to allow her son to think of himself as a freak.  She loooooooves this boy.
One of the most tender moments in the movie is when Cole and his mother are stuck in traffic, Cole sitting in the passenger seat beside his mother.  Cole has come to terms with his gift and now turns to reveal to his mother what his dead and resurrected grandmother has told him. 
“She wanted me to tell you . . .”
His mother, not sure about Cole’s gift, and not wanting to come to terms with his gift through her own mother thinks now he has gone too far in bringing up someone so close to home . . . “Cole, please stop.”
Cole forges ahead.  She wanted me to tell you she saw you dance. She said, when you were little, you and her had a fight, right before your dance recital. You thought she didn't come see you dance. She did. She hid in the back so you wouldn't see. She said you were like an angel. She said you came to the place where they buried her.”  Cole vindicates his grandmother and her life from a time when his mother believed that her mother, in moral judgment, was not there for her.   Cole continues to vindicate the care and love of his grandmother. 
You asked her a question?  She said the answer is, “Every day.”  What did you ask? 
The truth of the resurrection and her mother’s love dawns on Lynn Sear.  Cole has given his mother an incredible gift.  He has vindicated the love of a mother for her daughter and God, or the world, is set right.  God is just.  In her tears, Lynn Sear states the question, “Do . . . do I make you proud?”   And the answer from her resurrected mother is, “Every day.”


This is the true meaning of resurrection.  Resurrection is meant to vindicate, validate, and give authority to life and relationship already lived.  The life and relationship already lived provide the total context for the resurrection.  The gospel writers say as much in their stories.  In the gospel of Mark, the young man tells the three women that the disciples are to go back to Galilee and find the risen Christ there.  Start the enterprise all over again.  In the gospel of Matthew, the disciples are to go back to the place where Jesus began the Sermon on the Mount and teach what Jesus taught.   There, on that mount, Jesus began teaching with the Beatitudes.  In Luke, the Risen Christ is not recognized by disciples and apostles even as he walks and talks with them.  He is only recognized when he shares bread with them.  In John, the Risen Christ appears to the disciples and they are terrified, not unlike the six-year-old Cole Sear.  Jesus manifests to them the way that he died by showing them the nail prints and the wound in his side.  In John, Christ’s appearance was a reminder to the community that he would continue to be present with them.
This is what is so disheartening about the way the resurrection of Jesus is taught in our day and age.  Nary a thought, belief, or commitment is given to the way Jesus lived, taught, shared, or was present.  Violence is done, crusades are undertaken, and wars are waged by those who proclaim themselves to be Jesus’s most ardent believers.  And yet, during his life, facing tremendous violence, oppression, and persecution against his people, Jesus preached and lived a way of creative and confrontational non-violence.  Today, poverty and being economically poor is considered a signpost of our sin by those proclaim themselves to be the best of Jesus believers.  Yet, Jesus regularly taught and healed in such a way as to bless the poor and blame the system that created poverty, sickness, and death. 
We live in a time when wealth and power cover a world of sins and indicate God’s favor.
In a world that often demonizes Jesus’s life, teaching, sharing, and presence, we should be terrified of Jesus’s resurrection.  If we have experiences of that resurrection, those experiences may be God calling us, asking us for a transformation of values. The Roman Empire made sure their presence was felt throughout all of Galilee.  The Empire or Kingdom of God taught by Jesus had decidedly different values. 
New Testament scholar, Bernard Brandon Scott writes,

Rome crucified Jesus, and Jesus’ group still continued to experience the empire of God.  To explain this, the turned to their tradition—to the stories of their ancestors.  “He has been raised up,” “he has been seen for,” “he has been exalted to the right hand of God.”  All of these formulaic confessions are ways of saying that Rome’s apparent victory was futile and that the empire of God is here.[1]

Resurrection affirms the life lived and affirms that God is actively working to make the world right again and the empire of God, the empire of God is where that work to set the world right is taking place..  The innocent may perish but they do not stay dead.  God is just.  For Jesus’s followers, Jesus’s resurrection was the beginning of the transformation of the earth in keeping with the way not only of Jesus but the community that developed around him.  Resurrection was a definitive rebuke, a “no” to Rome’s belief that the gods had spoken, and Jesus and his followers were morally corrupt, worthy of state torture, violence, and death.  Throughout history, state power, governments, have tried to tell us who is immoral and moral through imprisonment, violence, torture, and death.  If that violence, torture, and death does carry the day, how would we possibly know God to be just?
In the end, our holy Scriptures tell us this is about a difference in values.  Rome declares that their wealth and power is indicative of their moral superiority, that the gods favor them.  The community that declares a Mediterranean Jewish peasant resurrected does so out of a fundamental belief that God is just, non-violent, and has a heart for the poor. 
I believe this is the very narrative playing out in the Christian Church and in our country.  But there are more recent examples that resurrections are afoot.
It was the killing of a friend, Father Rutillio Grande in 1977, a champion for the rural poor, that led El Salvadoran Archbishop Oscar Romero to begin pleading for justice, for which he was imprisoned, to write Jimmy Carter to end the shipment of U.S. arms and end support for the El Salvadoran military, to ask soldiers and police to halt the killing of civilians seeing them, he said,  “as your sisters and brothers.”  It was Romero who said, “If they kill me, I will rise again in the Salvadoran people.”  The El Salvadoran government and military believed they had the last word, believed that they had silenced the voice of Oscar Romero.  Did they?
It is Dr. Martin Luther King saying from the State capitol steps in Montgomery, Alabama, “I know you are asking today, ‘How long will it take?’  I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long.  Because truth pressed to earth will rise again.”[2]  It is the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo in Argentina whose children were disappeared during the State reign of terror from 1976 to 1983 and show up to say that the universe is moral, and you cannot make us believe that our children deserved such a fate.  We will meet your force with a soul force.  Every week, like spiritual practice, we will march.  Beginning in 1977, they have marched every week, over 2100 marches, many now using wheelchairs. 
“The raising up of Jesus implies a story—the death of the martyr, God’s vindication of the martyr, the ultimate vindication of God’s justice.”[3] In every age, we are asked to decide if wealth and power cover a multitude of sins?  Are winning, numbers, and Wall Street indicative of righteousness?  Or is Jesus resurrected.  Is he vindicated?  Is God just?  I so want to believe that my life proclaims the latter. Resurrection is vindication of those who struggle for justice, love the poor, and confront the powers and principalities non-violently.  Is Christ risen?  Is God just?  In every age, what is our answer?  Rome crucified Jesus to liquidate the memory of his life, teaching, and ministry?  Did they?  Amen.


[1] Bernard Brandon Scott, The Trouble with Resurrection:  From Paul to the Fourth Gospel (Salem, OR:  Polebridge Press, 2010), p. 223.
[3] Scott, p. 230

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 13, 2017, "Ships are meant to be at sea"

A Proper 14 19 Ord BFC 2017
Matthew 14:22-33
August 13, 2017

          In many historical churches, you all would be sitting in what is called the “nave” of the church, the long narrow center leading from a narthex at the back up to the chancel.  Nave comes from the Latin navis, meaning boat or ship.  The New England Church I pastored in New Hampshire had this beautiful wood ceiling that looked like a ship’s hull turned upside down.  That architecture was intentional, a way of plugging into the deep history and mythology of the Christian Church.  Even in the last church I served in Illinois, one could see a remnant of that architecture with a beautiful wood center in their sanctuary ceiling.  For a boat or a ship, with its mast in the form of a cross, was one of the early symbols of the Christian church.  And boats or ships are never meant to be tied up at a dock.[1]  Ships are meant to be at sea. 
          The sea, in Scriptural meaning, found way back in the first creation story of Genesis, was a symbol of chaos, a potentially life-threatening spirit.  Found within the great chaos of the sea was an even more terrifying sea monster, the Leviathan, always threatening.  Only in God’s creating and re-creating action to provide a boundary is the chaos kept at bay.
Jesus walks out not onto the water, but onto the sea, the place of chaos, a threat to life, and full of terrifying creatures.  The most important part, however, is that as our boat or ship is buffeted by the waves and weather, we know that Jesus is out on the sea with us.  There are also other people in the boat with us.  Community and solidarity with the Divine and with each other created and re-created are what keep the chaos at bay.
Note the disciples’ reaction upon seeing Jesus.  As the boat is battered and the wind moves against them in necessary ways, the disciples think Jesus might be a ghost.  They do not shout for joy upon seeing Jesus or show relief, they are “terrified”, the same word that might be used for a sea that is stirred up or agitated.  The chaos and unraveling happening around them is what they experience on the inside.  And Jesus does not immediately still the storm.  He says, “Take heart.  It is I.  Do not be afraid.”  Lest we think he might be merely a ghost or absent, Jesus is the one person who does not let the outer circumstances dictate his inner disposition.  The disciples are not showing the same inner peace.[2]
          Eugene Boring writes that faith is not about walking on the sea, for Scripture details it is only God who does that, faith is but daring to believe, in the face of all the evidence, that God is with us in the boat, made real in the community of faith as it makes its way through the storm, battered by the waves.”[3]
          The great Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh relates that a lotus, the symbol of Buddhist enlightenment grows and unfolds not on pristine marble, but in the messiness and muck of the mud.  In the same way, we should recognize that chaos and suffering are a part of life.  When we do not run away from the suffering that is before us, but show ourselves willing to enter into it, we learn how to be compassionate and understanding people.  So suffering, he believes, is a necessary part of the Kingdom of God.[4]  As we become more compassionate and understanding people, suffering dissipates not only in our lives but in the lives of others around us.  “Take heart.” Or, “Be courageous.  It is I.  Do not be afraid.”
          Way back in 1999, M. Night Shyamalan’s had his breakthrough as a writer and director with his movie, The Sixth Sense.   The Sixth Sense is a movie with an incredible, surprise ending, causing the viewer to re-think everything they saw throughout the movie.  It begins as a horror movie.  It ends as a prophetic tale with much the same message as our gospel story.  A small boy, Cole Sear, relates that he sees dead people, and he would do anything to avoid their presence in his life.  He is quite naturally terrified of people with axes in their heads, bullet wounds through their backs, vomiting radiator fluid.  Only when Cole confronts his fear, does he recognize that the terrifying ghosts are really teachers with messages of concern and care for the living. 
When we are able to name our fears and confront them, we recognize that our fears and struggles may be entreating us to courage and solidarity even in the chaos.  When we are afraid, however, when we are afraid, everything looks like a ghost.  Even Jesus.  And in Charlottesville, or on the campus of the University of Virginia, Jesus as a middle-eastern, politically revolutionary peasant, who he actually was, creates quite a bit of fear.   There are many who fear joining hands and building community and solidarity with the real Jesus. 
          By joining together in this crazy journey called Christianity, you agree to hop in the boat, sail with us on the ship that is the sea of chaos and suffering.  What we seek to do, on this common voyage, is share in our suffering so that compassion and understanding might grow. We seek to share our fears so that we might acknowledge God’s presence with us as we walk through them.  And, good friends, we not only experience individual fears but common fears for our life as a congregation and church.  Life for local churches, life in our world with the specter of climate change, nuclear war, and people who see hate as the good news, sure reflects a world stirred up and agitated around us. And it is difficult not to be terrified about what the future holds for us. 
As by the name we gave the committee tasked with helping us thinking about the future of our church building, we know that our congregation and local church is at a crossroads.  We cannot be who we were and continue.  Mainline, downtown churches all over the country are learning that difficult lesson. 
So here is what I propose.  I propose that, after a minute of meditation over those fears and struggles you sense deep within you, you might come forward, one at a time, and name those fears and struggles and then drop them in the sea of God’s presence to know that we are all on this boat together.  It is an important Biblical tradition that says as we name our fears, struggles, and demons, we show our power over them in solidarity and community with one another.  As we watch those fears and struggles dissolve and dissipate, we show our faith once again in a God in Christ who did not let his fears and struggles dictate his course of action and his courage.  This is not to say these fears and struggles go away.  Rather, Jesus walked out into the center of chaos and tribulation.  What we do is we say we are willing to engage them, willing to begin, believing that God joins in solidarity and community with us as we do so.  We walk out onto the sea.  And, lo and behold, Christ is with us.
So let us take a minute for meditation.  Take heart.  Do not be afraid.
          I will begin.  I invite you to come forward at this time.
         And we shall navigate this way together.  Perhaps we might learn that the ghosts we fear are really teaching us something about who we can be and will be with God’s presence. 
          In reflecting on what the events in Virginia call from us as Christians, activist and author Ken Sehested wrote from Asheville, North Carolina:

We live, as the author of Hebrews commended, in unverifiable assurance of things hoped for, by the conviction of things not seen, still a distance away from what is promised (11:1, 39). Persistence is among our highest virtues.
        If you know anything about restorative justice, you know the goal of truthtelling is not to decide who to blame and how to punish them. It is to learn who has been harmed, and how; and who must be involved, in what ways, to heal the wound. The horizon is not retribution but restitution, restoration, reconciliation.
        I like the procedural outline my friend Nibs Stroupe identifies, with six stages: recognition, resistance, resilience, reparations, reconciliation and recovery.  I would add a premise to this procedure: Every one of us has a part to play; but few will be convenient or comfortable.
        Another poet, Maya Angelou, gets the last word.
        “History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.”[5]
Getting on this boat, this ship, is not easy.  It is to steer out into the chaos and tribulation.  Some of us may get seasick along the way.  We may even encounter sea monsters.  But we have Christ’s presence mediated through this church.  Sisters and brothers, siblings and cousins, today we once again covenant to be a part of the Christian Church.  Many of our churches were built to remind us that, as a community, we were meant to be a ship.  And ships . . . ships were built to be at sea.  Amen. 



[1] Brian P. Stoffregen, “Matthew 14.22-33, Proper 14-Year A,” Exegetical Notes at CrossMarks Christian Resourceshttp://www.crossmarks.com/brian/matt14x22.htm.
[2] David Ewart, “Year A, Pentecost 8, August 7, 2011” Holy Textures http://www.holytextures.com/2011/05/matthew-14-22-33-year-a-pentecost-august-7-august-13-proper-14-ordinary-19-sermon.html.  “When the disciples see Jesus walking on the sea, they are not relieved, do not shout for joy expecting that Jesus has come to rescue them from the storm (also caused by spirits). Instead, they are terrified. The word used here for "terrified" can also be used to describe a sea that has been agitated and stirred up. In other words, the disciples' inner state is now a perfect reflection of their outer circumstances.”
[3] Eugene Boring, “Matthew,” The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. 8, pp. 329-330.
[4] “Interview with Thich Nhat Hanh,” On Being with Krista Tippett, September 26, 2013.  http://www.onbeing.org/program/thich-nhat-hanh-on-mindfulness-suffering-and-engaged-buddhism/transcript/5991#main_content
[5] Ken Sehested, “We are Charlottesville,” prayer & politiks, August 12, 2017.  http://www.prayerandpolitiks.org/blog/2017/08/12/we-are-charlottesville.2776686

Sermon, Year A, Second Sunday of Advent, "The Begats Matter"

  A Advent 2 Pilg AL 2022 Matthew 1:1-17 December 4, 2022 (Trigger warning:  Within this sermon are allusions to sexual violence.)      ...