When We Fall

Proper 9A; Psalm 145:8-15; Matt. 11:16-19; 25-30

St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 7/9/2017

Jim Melnyk: “When We Fall”

 Close your eyes for just a moment – no, really, close your eyes, and try to picture God.  What’s the first image that comes to mind?  An old man with white hair and a long, flowing beard?  The gregarious and joyous woman from The Shack?  Light?  Wind?  Fire?  All are meaningful images.  How many of you pictured a parent – either mother or father – supporting a soon-to-be-toddler just learning to walk?  You’ve seen that particular teaching carried out, haven’t you?  Mom or Dad bending over their little one, whose arms are stretched above the head, each tiny hand grasping the parent’s fingers or hand for balance.  It’s a viable image for God!

The prophet Hosea relays the word of God to Israel, saying, “Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms…. I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love.  I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks.  I bent down to them and fed them” (Hosea 11:3-4).  And from the prophet Isaiah, “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem” (66:13). We can almost hear those words behind the promise from today’s psalm, “The Lord upholds all those who fall; the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down” (145:15).

St. Julian of Norwich picked up on this caring image of God in her fourteenth century work, A Revelation of Divine Love, most likely the first book written in English by a woman.  As a result of one of her divine visions Julian wrote, “When we fall [God] holds us lovingly, and graciously and swiftly raises us.  In all this work [God] takes the part of a kind nurse who has no other care but the welfare of her child…. It is [God’s] responsibility to save us, it is [God’s] glory to do it, and it is [God’s] will that we should know it…. Utterly at home, [God] lives in us for ever” (Enfolded in Love: Daily Readings with Julian of Norwich).

For all God’s glory and splendor – for all God’s transcendent wonder and awe – today our lessons point to a God who surrounds us and upholds us in love – that we might reflect the glory of that love in return.  They are stories that rightly point to our struggles to be a faithful people, but they also point to God’s willingness to rescue us from our brokenness and restore us to new life in the fullness of caring relationships.

The prophet Zechariah wrote to the people of Israel who were returning from exile, celebrating their restoration and anticipating the rebuilding of the temple, but also struggling with their faith.  We recognize part of this passage as it’s quoted by the gospel writers in our Palm Sunday readings.  But the prophet goes on to call the people of Israel “prisoners of hope.”  Imagine what that might look like, being a people “held so tightly by hope that we are its very prisoners.  We can believe that God will never abandon us and [therefore, we don’t need to fear.  That’s] what it means to be prisoners of hope – truly and joyfully bound by the virtue that assures us of [a] love that is stronger than death” ((Suzanna Metz, Synthesis, 7/9/2017)).  The Lord surely upholds us when we fall.

 The Apostle Paul also understands what it means to struggle with his faith.  His letter to the church in Rome – written late in Paul’s ministry and addressed primarily to Christ-following Gentiles – is meant to encourage those who have turned away from their worship of idols to embrace Jesus – always faced with the temptation to return to their old ways.  The letter is also meant to help them build community with Christ-following Jews in Rome – something both groups are failing at doing well.  Contrary to a lot of Christian teaching, today’s passage from Romans actually has nothing to do with Torah versus Gospel – or as some would say, the Law versus grace.  Paul, who deeply honors his commitment to being a Torah-observant Jew, is wrestling with his all-too-human propensity to fail at following Jesus – his all-too-human propensity to fall, and to do so by choice. “I do not understand my own actions.  For I do not do what I want [to do], but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15).  Sound familiar?

In our tradition we have been known to pray almost the exact same thing: “We have left undone those things which we ought to have done, and we have done those things which we ought not to have done” (BCP, 41-42).  It is not law versus grace – no, it’s more our human frailty challenged by the grace and love of God – our falling versus our standing firm in our faith.

Speaking of Paul’s struggle, Kari Jo Verhulst writes, “It hurts to watch someone we love feeling stuck. Witnessing the kind of frustration and self-recrimination [Paul is facing] challenges our hope that our love will somehow make things better. We want to be able to save each other, and it is terribly painful to realize that we cannot” (Synthesis, 7/9/2017). 

And once again the psalmist reminds us, “The Lord upholds all those who fall; the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down,” and we are reminded of the image of a loving parent whose hands are firmly grasped by the child just learning to walk.  As the child becomes more sure of herself, mom and dad let go, allowing their child to teeter, and even to fall – and then “holds her lovingly, and graciously and swiftly raises her” (Julian, paraphrased) – knowing that it may be the only way that child finally learns to walk on her own.

Just as a loving parent picks up his or her child who falls, it is God who saves Paul from his deepest struggles of faith.  And we find in God’s love revealed to Paul that God “isn't interested in increasing our guilt or shame but in a relationship of love in freedom” (Synthesis) – the freedom to fall, and the will and the strength to stand.

And so finally we come to the gospel – to the place where despite all of its challenges, we continue to find the love of God staring back at us even when we fail – even when we fall.  It begins with Jesus voicing his frustration at his current generation – and when Matthew uses the word “generation” we’re meant to be reminded about those who failed to trust God in the wilderness of the exodus – which sounds anything like a promising passage at first. 

Many of his listeners don’t like John because he’s too austere, and they don’t like Jesus because he eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners. They act like little children in the marketplace refusing to play each other’s games.

Jesus says to them – and Jesus says to us across the ages, “Let go of your need to judge everyone in your lives – let go of your need to judge yourselves so harshly.  Bring your weariness with the world – bring your weariness with yourselves – bring the burden of always having to be right, and the guilt from the times you fail – and find your rest in me.  Take my yoke upon you – learn from me – and I will give you rest for your souls – I will be there for you, and with you, whenever you fall, and I will be there to lift you up.”

The truth is we’re all still toddlers when it comes to the life of faith.  We’re all still trying to find our sure footing – and sometimes, perhaps all too often, we simply mess up.  Most of the time we know when we’ve fallen short of God’s hope for us, and like Paul we may feel helpless to be any different. But, the psalmist reminds us that like a loving parent, God upholds us when we fall, and lifts us up when we are bowed down.  We know ourselves to be forgiven and loved – and we step out once again in hope.

In the end, taking upon ourselves the yoke of Christ means joining ourselves to his most gracious love and compassion.  In doing so we see and learn from Christ’s nature and character.  We open ourselves to be shaped – we open ourselves to be formed – more and more into his likeness.  We become a community that seeks to support one another as fellow disciples of our Lord, sharing Christ’s love and compassion with each other – loving and forgiving one another, so that even when we fall – and perhaps especially when we fall – we are each lifted up, and we know ourselves to be beloved by God.