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Sunday, November 19, 2017

They Never Saw the Rabbit


Proper 28A; Matthew 25:14-15, 19-29; St. Paul’s, Smithfield; 11/19/17

Jim Melnyk, “They Never Saw the Rabbit”


There’s an old story about a young man who went off into the wilderness on a spiritual journey.  He learned of a Holy Teacher who lived with some disciples near the edge of an old wood and so he traveled to the teacher’s hermitage to study with the learned master.  After a while the young seeker took note of the many people who, like himself, sought out the teacher.  Some, like the young man, stayed for a long time.  Most, however, stayed for a while and then they left.  One day the student found himself standing before his teacher in front of the teacher’s hut.  “Master,” he said, “I have noticed that so many come to learn from you, but most stay for only a short time and then they leave.  Why is this so?”  The teacher looked at the young man and replied, “I will tell you a story that has the answer.” 



The teacher pointed to his old dog sleeping by the doorway.  “Once, a long time ago, I was sitting here with my dog when a great white rabbit came hopping across the yard.  The dog, waking from her sleep, saw the rabbit and immediately began chasing it.  The dog chased it this way and that, through the brush and around the hills, baying all the time.  Soon the other dogs around us took up the chase with her.  They ran back and forth, through the brush and brambles, around the hills, and all along the wood’s edge.  Then, one by one, the other dogs slipped away from the chase until only this old hound was left to the hunt.”  The Master paused for a moment and then asked, “Why did the other dogs drop out of the chase?”



“I don’t know,” the young man said, shaking his head in bewilderment.  “Please tell me why.”  “They stopped,” the teacher replied, “because they never saw the rabbit.”  They never saw the rabbit!



This is one of the stories within this morning’s gospel story.  It’s a parable about how people never see the rabbit, and so they abandon the chase, often tired and worn out, worse for the wear and not too sure as to why they began the chase in the first place!



Think about our lesson for a moment.  In the story, their Master gives each of the three slaves a certain number of talents, that is, a vast amount of money – we’re talking millions of dollars in today’s economy.  They are to use the money, “each according to his ability.”  The first two slaves use their best skills to increase the value of the amounts entrusted to them.  The third slave, fearful of his Master, and apparently fearful of his own abilities to use the sum wisely, hides the money away until his master’s return.  The third slave never gets excited about his chance to use what his master gives to him – in other words, he never sees the rabbit – and therefore he fails the test.  The slave doesn’t fail because he isn’t capable.  Rather, he fails because he lacks a vision of who and what he is called to be.  He never sees the rabbit!



A former professor of mine, probably thinking about our Old Testament reading put it like this: “The time before the return of the master is a time of testing.  We’re not meant to sit on our duffs (or on our dregs, whatever that is), fearful of losing [that with which we’ve been entrusted].  We’re meant to have courage, to be willing to venture out, to take risks, to be bold and persistent…. We are required to commit ourselves wholeheartedly to the tasks set before us, for we will be judged more harshly for hiding our talents than we will be for risking and losing all.” (Synthesis, SEA)



It’s hard to stay in the chase – it’s hard to risk what little or what lot we have – if we haven’t seen, or haven’t gotten a good enough look at, the rabbit – if we don’t get a good look at Jesus.  It’s hard to do the work of the church – it’s hard to offer our tithe – it’s hard to offer our time and energy – unless we have a vision of what lies ahead.  We get tired and worn out, or we get anxious and unsure, when asked to give of ourselves to a God we cannot see with a clear eye and strong heart.



And yet God wants us to see – God wants us to become a part of God’s beloved community!  We haven’t been handed a test full of trick questions, dead-ends, or false options.  God, wanting to be in relationship with humanity, has given us a marvelous sign of God’s own love for us!  God has given us a glimpse of the rabbit, my friends!  In seeing Jesus, we see God.  In seeing Jesus, we see what incredible work we are called to accomplish in loving response to God’s love for us.  And it is only when we can see the incredible love God has for us in God’s own heart, that we can take the risks, do the work, and remain in the chase.



In today’s gospel lesson Jesus tells us a shocking parable about a Master who is not at all godly in the way he makes his money, or the way he treats his slaves.  He reaps where he hasn’t sown, and gathers where he hasn’t scattered seed.  He’s not meant to be an allegorical stand in for God at all.  In fact, Jesus means for us to see him as quite the opposite of God.  And I’m willing to bet the Master’s first two slaves grow their trust funds the same way. 



And while we’re not supposed to emulate this particular Master, or even his first two slaves in how we do things, the parable is meant to call us to respond wholeheartedly with the gifts and talents God gives us – the gifts that can help make real the reign of God.  In Christ God shows us the One who risks all to make God’s presence known to all – and we are called to take the risk of sharing in that work of Christ’s love.



Jesus doesn’t tell us the story to encourage us to become overbearing fiscal tyrants, nor does Jesus tell us the story because God needs us to do the work of Christ.  Rather, we are told this story as an invitation to join in God’s vision for the world – a vision where Creator and creature share a love for one another and bring one another into the fullness of God’s love – God’s beloved community.



And while it may be hard for each of us to catch that life-giving vision of God’s love from time to time, we have been given a wonderful gift by God in Christ Jesus.  We can do for one another what the Master’s dog couldn’t do for the other dogs who shared in the chase for that short while.  We can help each other catch the vision of God’s call to live together in Christ’s love.  We can share with one another each glimpse we catch of God’s presence among us.  We can watch for the Christ in the lives and faces of those around us and point the way for those who cannot keep the pace when their strength or their vision fails.

           

How do we get a good look at the rabbit?  Where and when do we glimpse the Christ?  We find the Christ in the Sacrament of the Holy Table as we come together to share Christ’s body and blood – in the Communion of Christ’s body – each of us gathered together in this place, made one by God’s love.  We find Christ as we tell the stories of our faith, time and time again.  We find Christ in the honoring and safe-keeping of our children and our willingness to have them hear and see us act out our faith in our daily lives….  We catch a glimpse of the Christ in the eyes of a stranger – in a meal shared – in the giving of an unexpected gift, or in an unexpected word of affirmation, thanksgiving, or forgiveness.  We catch a glimpse of the Christ when we include those whom the world excludes – when we love as Christ loves us!

           

If we feel compelled to hide or guard what God has given to us, maybe it’s because we’ve lost sight of the vision – lost sight of that dang rabbit running just around the bend, right in front of us!  Together we can seek the face of Christ and rejoin the chase!  God wants us to see.  God wants us to share a vision of God’s presence and love for all of creation.  God wants us to stay in the chase – to chase that rabbit with everything we’ve got!  God wants us to stay in the chase because God wants to be caught!  God wants to come face to face with each of us and share with us the fullness of Creation Love.

 

Sunday, November 12, 2017

If Not Me - Who?




Proper 27A; Amos 5:18-24; Matthew 25:1-13; St. Paul’s, 11/12/2017
Jim Melnyk, “If Not Me, Who?”



(Standing at lectern, looking around, drumming fingers…) Don’tcha just hate waiting?  We spend a lot of time waiting.  Waiting in line.  Waiting at the light – even waiting on the Interstate.  Waiting on a spouse or partner, our children or parents…waiting on love.  Waiting for revenge…waiting for peace.

We spend much of our lives waiting for one thing or another – some of us are better at it than others – but none of us have it down pat.  Do I start doing something and have to stop in the middle?  Do I just sit and think until it’s time? Today’s lessons are about waiting – and what we’re called to do and be in the midst of that wait.

We open with Israel lost in exile – waiting in Babylon – living in judgment for trampling God’s justice in the dust.  “You sell the righteous for silver,” Amos has told Israel.  “You sell the needy for a pair of sandals.”  Israel sits by the waters in Babylon and waits for the Day of the Lord to come – the Day of Judgment – hoping to be vindicated by God.  Amos says, “You’ve got to be crazy!  Your vindication will be a long time coming.”  And in the midst of the waiting Amos tells them, “Don’t count on your religion to save you – it’s not enough to practice good liturgy, or have great voices – even good sermons.  There’s more to it than that folks!” 

As my spouse, The Rev. Lorraine Ljunggren, has said: “The life of faith isn’t about holding great faith convictions, rather, it’s about being held by great faith convictions.”  “Let justice roll down like waters,” says Amos, “and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.”  Live as though you believe God’s promises to be true.

Like Amos, Jesus seeks to offer hope in a time of exile – an exile that’s internal in its nature.  At home in the land, the people of Israel are not at home with God.  The Romans occupy their land. 
There are too many teachers teaching the letter of the law and not enough teaching its spirit.  As in every age and every culture, people are being pushed to the edge of society.  Justice is lost.  Israel hopes, and waits, for her vindication.

No wonder Matthew’s Jesus bears the name Emmanuel – “God with us.” Jesus tells his listeners to be prepared – to be ready to live as if God is physically present in their here and now – in the midst of the people. “Readiness in Matthew is…living the life of the kingdom, living the quality of life described in the Sermon on the Mount” (The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. VIII, page 451).  In Matthew’s gospel the Sermon stands as the framework for Jesus' teachings – the framework for true discipleship.  It’s not as “earthy” as Luke’s Sermon on the Plain – where hunger, thirst and poverty aren’t spiritualized – yet it still calls listeners to a new reality of life. 

Blessed are the poor in spirit (theirs is the kingdom of heaven).Blessed are those who mourn (they will be comforted).  Blessed are the meek (they will inherit the earth).  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness (they will be filled)…the merciful (they will receive mercy)…the pure in heart (they will see God)…the peacemakers (they shall be called children of God).

Once again Jesus offers a parable which is more about living these truths now, rather than sitting and waiting for some far off future.  The bridesmaids go out to the feast – some prepared and some not.  The oil in their lamps connects us with long-standing Jewish tradition.  There are places in the tradition where oil symbolizes good deeds.  “The oil, or rather having oil in this story, represents what will count [when Christ returns:] deeds of love and mercy in obedience to the Great Commandment [in this life].” “When I was hungry you fed me, when I was thirsty you gave me something to drink – you clothed me when I was naked – visited me when I was sick or in prison.” 

There are also places in Jewish tradition where oil represents the Torah – the Teaching of God – and having oil would mean living in the fullness of God’s teaching.  Preparation for the fulfillment of God’s promise is therefore seen as responsible deeds of discipleship – not simply staying awake or remaining watchful.  Christian faith is not an exercise in theory – it’s a way of living one’s life faithfully for God in a very real and needy world.

Many years ago at a community worship service I heard what was for me a troublesome word preached on this parable.  The pastor said, if you’ve got the oil you’re in, and if you don’t have it you’re out – you’re consigned to the fires of hell.  I remember thinking, “No way! When I preach this I’ll say that in the end Jesus would surely have had the bridesmaids share their oil.  “I’ll do one of those: ‘you’ve heard it said…but I say to you’…deals Jesus is so famous for in Matthew.”

Then I started reading commentaries.  “Don’t get all sentimental about Jesus and start talking about sharing the oil,” they all read.  Rats!  But the truth is – if this story is about living faithfully while we wait, then the undeniable reality of the spiritual life is that nobody can live faithfully for you.  Nobody can be faithful for me.  There are some things I have to do myself.  I can’t live out the Sermon on the Mount through you.  I can’t live out the Great Commandment through you – no more than you can live them through me.  It’s not about being selfish – and it’s not about refusing to share – it’s about doing for ourselves what only we can do for ourselves – living faithfully and trusting the grace and love of God to sustain us.

And that’s where the tough part comes in.  Waiting.  Being ready for the long haul.  Living faithfully is easy to do – for a day – or a few weeks – maybe even for a season – but for a lifetime?  Matthew includes this parable of Jesus because his readers have been waiting for the return of Christ.  What they thought would be a long weekend wait has stretched out into decades – and still no Jesus.  Believers are dying and Jesus hasn’t returned.  They needed hope for their time in the waiting – they needed to know how to live in the midst of the waiting – because living faithfully is such a tough thing to do.  “Being a peacemaker for a day is not as demanding as being a peacemaker year after year when the hostility breaks out again and again, and the return of Jesus is still delayed.  Being merciful for an evening can be pleasant; being merciful for a lifetime, when the bridegroom is delayed, requires preparedness” (TNIB, p451).  How prepared are we to be merciful these days?

If the parable is about being prepared – and if it’s about living into the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount – if it’s about the Great Commandment and about the parable that follows this one – if the parable is about being faithful to Torah (about being faithful to the Teaching of God) – then we must pay attention.  How are we, as individuals, living in this time of waiting?  How faithful are we at living out these teachings of God in Christ?  How faithful are we to those whom Jesus calls “the least of us?” If we’re not faithful to the call, then it’s not even a matter of ‘if’ we have enough oil for the feast – we might as well pour out what oil we have on the ground – because we will have missed the whole point!

In some ways it boils down to three questions.  If not me, who?  If not here, where?  If not now, when?   Are we willing to live as if God is physically present in our here and now – in the midst of us? Living faithfully is what we do in the midst of waiting for God’s promises to unfold.  It’s hard enough for me to wait graciously while stuck in traffic – let alone for something as ethereal as God.  I mean, I only have so much oil, you know?  How much of ourselves will we bring to the task?  How much of who we are and what God has given us will we offer in preparation for God’s coming among us?  If not me – if not us, who?  If not here – if not St. Paul’s, where?  If not now – if not today, when?