Proper 28B; Heb. 10:11-25; Mark 13:1-8; St.
Paul’s, Smithfield, NC
11/15/2015 Jim Melnyk: “More Than the Color
of a Coffee Cup”
This past week Facebook and various online news sites had
been inundated with debate about the color and lack of holiday markings on
Starbucks coffee cups. The amount of
emotional and real-time energy around the debate was overwhelming – and I’ll
admit to time and energy spent calling it all silly. Apparently Starbucks’ decision to use a red
cup without snowflakes or evergreens emblazoned upon them has constituted a new
front on the “War against Christmas.”
Not to be outdone, Dunkin Donuts announced that they will sport holiday
coffee cups – meaning, I guess, unlike other Grinch-like purveyors of coffee.
Recalling last week’s sermon about how we choose to
make room for God in our lives and in this world as Advent and Christmas
approach, I find the whole debate about coffee cups not only a bit
disconcerting, but extremely flippant. I
can’t help but think that if folks brought this complaint before the Heavenly
Court it would be thrown out as a frivolous lawsuit. But that’s where we are these days. It seems that to some, if we don’t say “Merry
Christmas” or put snowflakes and Christmas trees on coffee cups that get used
in the morning and thrown into the trash before lunch, we’ve somehow dismissed
Christmas as meaningless. And I have to
think that God weeps over such craziness.
And then as Friday evening approached us as we sat in
the safety of our own homes and businesses on the east coast, word spread about
the horrific events as they unfolded in Paris, and coffee cup feeds on Facebook
were quickly replaced with images of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and
the French Flag. Nearly 130 people
killed and another 300 wounded – a third of them critically. Our response of grief, anger, and prayer was
swift.
But it also leaves me wondering: where were the
Facebook updates about the two bombs that went off in Beirut, killing 43 souls
and wounding over 200? How many people
changed their status to “Baghdad” after at least 36 lives were taken in
bombings, and at least that many wounded? What, we might ask, makes the loss of one soul
more important or earth-shaking than the loss of another?
Author Michaela Bruzzese unknowingly pointed out the
folly of things like coffee cup wars in the midst of a chaotic and hurting
world. She writes: “With the close of the liturgical year, next
week the church prepares to celebrate Christ as king. Christ's kingdom is the beatitude kingdom, the
upside-down kingdom where the last are first, where those who suffer for
justice and righteousness will be comforted. It is a place where the community considers ‘how
to provoke one another to love and good deeds’ (Hebrews 10:24); where we can ‘all
(emphasis added) enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus’ (Hebrews 10:19).… Jesus
assures us,” she writes, “that the coming of the kingdom will truly bring
cataclysmic changes, especially to structures of death that oppress and exclude
those who seek justice, mercy, and love” (Michaela Bruzzese, Preaching the Word, Sojourners Online).
Our newsfeeds blow up over disposable coffee cups and human
beings killing one another over religious and political ideologies. Meanwhile we listen as the Prince of Peace
talks about the walls of the temple being on the verge of tumbling to the earth
– a time when all will be thrown down (13:2), and we realize this human mess is
as old as the human race. The world
argues – and even kills one another – over what it means to treat one another
with dignity and the author of Hebrews reminds us of a God who will put the
teachings of God in our hearts, and write them on our minds (10:16).
What does it mean, in the midst of coffee cup wars
when as baptized Christians we promise to “work for justice and peace for all
persons, and respect the dignity of every human being?” Are we living into those vows? Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts aside, how and when
do we fail to see Christ in one another, and respect one another’s dignity,
when we disagree with each other? Coffee
cup wars are just an outward sign of humanity’s inability or lack of desire to
honor the image of God within one another.
What does it mean for us in the midst of Beirut,
Baghdad, and Paris when we follow the One who said, “Blessed are the
peacemakers (Mt. 5:9) and “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love
your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and
pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in
heaven? (Mt. 5:43-45a)
What does it mean for us when we have a Savior who
says to his disciples, and so also to us, “You have something more important
with you here than the temple which stands before you: despite all of its
massive stones, and its beautiful walls and vessels of gold, silver and
bronze. And though both will be thrown
down by this world, this temple which stands before you will be raised by the
glory of God.”? What does it mean for us
to follow the One who sheds his Godhead to become human flesh and dwell among
us, and who willingly gives up his life for the life of the world? (Phil.
2:5-8)
Our lessons from Daniel and Mark are both what
Biblical Scholars call “Apocalyptic Literature.” They deal with cataclysmic changes people of
God saw as necessary for the Day of the Lord to occur – for what we as
Christians might call the fulfillment of the coming kingdom. Apocalyptic Literature, like today’s lessons,
is often filled with violence. But let us be assured that the violence we find
in these passages is not divine violence – not divine terror. We humans are the ones who bring such terror
about – and as a species we are pretty good at doing just that (Synthesis, 11/15/2015). And while we can talk about the terror and
violence of Beirut, Baghdad, and Paris, every day in the United States people
die from domestic violence, from drive-by shootings, from suicide, and from preventable
illnesses. What do we as followers of
the Prince of Peace do with that reality?
Personally, I’m not sure of the answer – other than to say humanity has
to learn what it means to love God with all our heart, and to love our neighbor
– and the stranger among us – as ourselves.
Reflecting on what comes next in France, The Very Rev.
Lucinda Laird, the Dean of American Cathedral in Paris writes, “…our prayers
must lead us to action. Here in France I suspect there will be very, very
strong anti-Muslim sentiment, and one thing we must do is stand with our Muslim
brothers and sisters, and foster conversation and understanding. I think
we also need to work harder to care for the flood of refugees fleeing terror in
their own countries – work for immediate care and for political
solutions. You will need to find your own mission in the US, but I know
that it must involve continued dedication and commitment to making justice and
making peace, and being a light in the darkness” (Episcopal Café). How broad a
brush will we use as we point our fingers at whom is to blame for such
tragedies? Especially when Moslem
clerics, scholars, and lay people are saying groups like ISIS do not speak for
them – and do not understand the true teachings of Isam. How narrow a brush when looking at our own
sin? For the poet/singers say, “The
worst things in life are justified by belief” (U2, Raised by Wolves – thanks to Chris Scarboro for the reference).
A story is told of an exchange between a peasant and a
holy man. While the story sounds as if
it is about wealth alone, I believe we can see in it whatever it is we desire
to ultimately possess – whether that be wealth, status, or even absolute truth.
“The peasant came running up to a holy man, who was
resting under a tree. ‘The stone! The
stone! Give me the stone the precious stone!’
‘What stone?’ asked the holy man.
‘Last night I dreamed that I would find a holy man who
would give me a precious stone that would make me rich forever,’ replied the
peasant.
The holy man rummaged through his bag and pulled out a
stone. ‘He probably meant this one,’ he said as he handed it to the peasant. ‘I
found it on a forest path a few days ago.
You can certainly have it.’
The man looked at the stone in wonder. It was a diamond, probably the largest
diamond in the whole world; he took it and walked away. All night he tossed in the bed, unable to
sleep. Next day at the crack of dawn he
woke the holy man and said, ‘Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you
to give this diamond away so easily’” (From People
for Others, printed in Synthesis,
11/15/2015).
Lord Jesus, we pray that you place the teachings of
God in our minds and write them upon our hearts, and then give to us the wealth
that made it possible for you to give so freely your life for the life of this
world.
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