Mary Said Yes

This week's sermon - Mary Said Yes - focused on The Magnificat, the Song of Mary from Luke 1:46-55.  I learned this week that there are actually four songs, or canticles in Luke.  In case you didn't know, they are The Magnificat; The Benedictus or Song of Zechariah 1:68-79; The Gloria in Excelsis or Song of the Angels 2:14; and the Nunc Demittis or Song of Simeon 2:29-32.  Pastor Suzanne talked about how rejoicing may not seem like an appropriate response in the face of the Sandy Hook tragedy, in the face of many tragedies within our own congregation in the past couple of weeks, but then again, maybe it is.

Music has power.  It has the power to convey emotions for which words are inadequate.  It has the power to offer respite.  Probably in the times of Luke it helped to recall and retell historical events.  In The Magnigicat Mary praised God not only for the work God is doing in her life, but she claims all God's past actions and future promises for all people.  She speaks of God's mercy, protection for the humble, care for the hungry in the same way traditional hymns speak to us today, I think.  Really, what is Easter without "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" or "He Lives!"?  Christmas hymns abound, and then there are the comforting hymns like "It Is Well With My Soul" or "The Hymn of Promise."

Still feeling in need of some healing I decided to attend a second service on Sunday, at a different church, because I had seen they were hosting a guest musicians.  So I went in search of the power of the music. Now, sometimes you have to listen for the still quiet voice of God directing you, and other times, it seems, God opts for the two-by-four-upside-the-head.  I got the two-by-four.  Before the service even began I met with friends who I haven't seen in years and was able to spend some time visiting and catching up with them.

Next, what do you think the message was based on at this second service?  If you guessed a canticle of Luke, then you would be correct.  The Song of Simeon to be precise.  Simeon was living a purposeful life, having been promised by God that he would see the Messiah he went to the temple every day, waiting for comfort and peace.  The question in this sermon - what are you waiting for?  Consider your purpose.

The guest musicians were everything I had hoped for and then some.  I have seen them before and the live performance allows me to shed all the thoughts and worries of my conscious, every day life and open my mind and soul to contemplate... other things.  After the service I decided to wait in an extraordinarily long line to buy a CD that I really didn't need, but felt that I needed to be there for a while longer.  While waiting in line I struck up a conversation with the woman behind me.  It didn't take too long until we uncovered the fact that she is related to some good friends who I haven't seen in quite some time.  I asked her to pass on greetings for me, and even remembered to send off a card when I got home.

I got lots of food for thought this week, and maybe a few answers.  I am still processing my experiences.  It seems the more I study and think, the more questions I have.  The one answer I got this week was from Psalms:

 
Psalm 27:14

New International Version (NIV)

¹⁴ Wait for the Lord;
    be strong and take heart
    and wait for the Lord.

 I'll be doing my best to wait for the Lord.  And it is a lot easier to say yes to God when I can put a sound track to the wait.  Thanks, Mary.

Rejoice and Sing!

This Sunday the choir offered the Cantata titled "Rejoice and Sing!"  At first it seemed incongruous in light of recent events.  The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized the reality is that these things happen daily, not in the magnitude that we have seen this week, but loss and suffering happen every day.  We just don't hear about it, or see it.  When tragedies occur in this magnitude we band together as a community to ask, "Where was God?"

For the past couple of weeks we have been talking about where God is, how we need to slow down and look for God.  Open our eyes, minds and hearts to unconventional or unexpected appearances.  Take my experience this weekend.   All this weekend I felt the need to reach out to an acquaintance who recently lost a loved one under very difficult circumstances.  Because I don't know the person well it would probably be very awkward for me to actually contact them.  But still I went over and over and over all the things I would say about how I too lost a loved one. Although I am sure our situations are different, I really felt called to share how eventually the music that this person made caused me to smile and feel joy for the first time in a long time.  I wanted to wish them the same, reassure them that soon something would help them regain balance and the ability to see and feel the beauty, joy and love around them.  God was and is with them.

Little did I know that all that rehearsing was really for me.  It was preparation for the phone call I received Sunday night, telling me that my brother had died.  It was totally unexpected, totally senseless, completely heartbreaking.  And yet, all my ruminations had brought me to a place where, while I am profoundly sad and grieve the loss for all of our family, I accept and know that my brother is in the hands of God, and I really don't need to worry for him.  I don't think it was coincidence that I couldn't stop thinking of a way to comfort that acquaintance.

I was lucky this time and was able to pay attention to that feeling and be somewhat prepared.  I still wonder, along with countless other people, how do you make sense of the senseless?  How do you feel joy in the face of loss?  How do you embrace a season of hope when your heart is breaking?  How do you find God in the midst of unspeakable evil?  Where is God?   I could offer up my understanding, but I think it is better when we each figure that out for ourselves.  This week, I saw God in that feeling I couldn't dodge, compelling me to consider how I could comfort someone who had experienced sudden, profound loss.  Maybe God is in me, God is in you, in each one of us, reflected in how we treat others and how we respond to the bad things that will happen to us.

Our knuckles are probably a little whiter than usual as we cling more tightly to the promises of advent - hope, peace, joy and love.  Paul articulates it pretty well in Philippians 4:4-9:

Final Exhortations
⁴ Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! ⁵ Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
⁸ Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. ⁹ Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Rejoice and Sing.  The God of peace will be with you.

Prepare the Way of the Lord

<sup>The pastor started out by telling us how she was looking for a particular book and couldn't find it.  Should have been an easy task, it had a green cover.  Her secretary finally offered to look and found it right away - the cover was not green.  I could relate,  over the past few years I have gotten rid of any plastic containers used to store leftovers that are not clear.  It seems that no one in my house is capable of looking inside to find the goodies awaiting them.  However, if  things are stored in containers transparent enough to give you a hint of what is inside the likelihood that other family members will actually look inside skyrockets.  Conversely, I am very regimented about where things go - a place for everything and everything in its place - and if the jelly doesn't go back in its proper place on the door I am probably not going to find it anywhere in the refrigerator.

The scripture this week was Luke3:1-6 with the subtitle "John the Baptist Prepares the Way."  For me that begs the question - why did the way need to be prepared?  Part of it, I'm sure, was to fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah.  But really, why did the way need paving?  Maybe another part of the answer is in the beginning of the passage.  Look at all the rulers who are listed there.  Seven of them!  Who would you be expecting to deliver you from that hierarchy?  What would the Lord need to be in order to overcome all of them?  Powerful, mighty, militaristic, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.  Above all, big and strong.  And who is his herald?  A guy in the wilderness who wears a loincloth, eats locusts and honey, and who yells at everyone.  Talk about a paradigm shift!  

Sometimes I can't find things because they aren't where I expect them to be.  Sometimes I can't find things because they aren't what I expect them to be.  Many times I can't find things because I have closed my eyes, my mind or my heart. I don't know about you, but in this season of busy-ness I needed this reminder to be alert, be awake to expect the unexpected.  But most of all to open myself up to the presence of God.</sup>

The Season of Hope

How do we see hope in the midst of suffering and loss?  Jeremiah was in prison for predicting the destruction of Jerusalem, the temple, and exile of Israel when he offered these words of hope:
  
Jeremiah 33:14-16 (NIV)
¹⁴ “‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah.
¹⁵ “‘In those days and at that time
    I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line;
    he will do what is just and right in the land.
¹⁶ In those days Judah will be saved
    and Jerusalem will live in safety.
This is the name by which it^[a] will be called:
    The Lord Our Righteous Savior.’
 
 Jeremiah held fast to belief, knew that even though there would be suffering and loss, the promise was of deliverance, of a branch to spring forth.

It seems to me that when things are going well it is really easy to say, "Oh, yes, I know there is a promise of deliverance, I know everything will be all right."  It is quite another to say it when in grips of terrible, gut-wrenching, heart-breaking loss.  Yet that, I think, is exactly what we are called to do.  To know, believe, and feel our faith so strongly that we can hold onto it even while in prison for doing the right thing.  Even if we are in exile and bondage for hundreds of years.  Even when we suffer personal defeat like the loss of a home, a child, a parent... even when we feel so small and weak and broken that we can't lift a hand to protest to life that it is too hard, that we have been left behind.  Even then we can know that God will deliver us.  Hope lives in the Christ who came, is coming and will come.

Wow!  As I wrote that I realized, those are words on a page that sound really good, but how do I live that out?  What does that look like in my boring, day-to-day life?   We all suffer loss.  The last couple of weeks have held more than their share of loss - a classmate of my kids, a friend's mother, another friend's sister, a long-time church member... the list goes on.  The grief and empathy are tangible in the face of a joyous season of hope.  What do I do to hold on to that promise?  And how do I help others do the same, or even find it for the first time?

The answer is that there is no "one" answer.  It seems to me that part of the strength of Jeremiah and Israel came from the way they lived together in community. Support and encouragement of one another go a long way.  Part of the answer is a strong individual relationship with God.  For me that comes from personal introspection, quieting the world in order to process and contemplate what I am reading and learning.   And depending on the situation there are other parts as well, but the bottom line is that it isn't easy, and it isn't supposed to be easy.  Claiming hope in the face of despair is a choice that means giving up my need for control, accepting and dealing with things as they come, and tending to my relationship with my community of faith and with God.  I am not all that successful at doing all those things, but I think I am making progress.

A Wise Reign

What is a king?  Dictionary.com tells me it is:
1. The male ruler of an independent state, esp. one who inherits the position by right of birth.
2. A person or thing regarded as the finest or most important in its sphere or group.

Is Jesus the male ruler by right of birth, or the person regarded as the finest of most important in its sphere or group?  Look at the progression of  the passage and you can see, clearly, the answer is both.  Jesus' kingship is an issue at his trial. Pilate questions Jesus' kingship.  Jesus claims to be a spiritual king.  Pilate appeals to the crowd to accept Jesus as their king.  The crowd rejects Jesus.  Christ is mocked as king.  Jesus is declared king at his crucifixion.  God has exalted Jesus as king.  The problem is that we poor humans just weren't able to see Jesus as both while he was here with us.

Jesus came as a king, but not the kind of king the people were expecting, and ultimately that is what caused them to reject him.  The scripture passage for today contrasts Pilate, a militaristic, worldly, ambitious agent of the king, Caesar, that the people expected Messiah to topple and defeat.  In John 18:33-37 Jesus is the antithesis of Pilate/Caesar.  He doesn't argue, threaten, or forcefully make his case.  He answers questions with questions.  In verse 37 Jesus indirectly tells Pilate that he does not plan to overthrow the government when, "Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

So what is the truth.  And the bigger question for me - am I hearing it?  At this time of the year the truth gets mixed up and suppressed by all the commercial, worldly messages.  And in some ways the truth gets perverted.  Do I need to aggressively and contentiously proclaim my beliefs, or simply live them out.  Do I need to warn everyone that I say Merry Christmas, or do I simply wish them a Merry Christmas and send my friends who I know believe differently a Happy Holidays card?  Does loving my neighbor mean telling them, either directly or indirectly, that if they don't believe the same way as I do they are condemned to perdition?  Or, like Jesus in this passage, do I allow others to come to their own understanding, in their own way, in their own time after presenting the truth of my beliefs? I often waffle and don't feel confident in knowing just how energetic to be in evangelistic efforts, but I always try to remember how I would like to be treated by someone of a different belief - with love and respect.  The greatest truth, for me, is that God loves us all, no matter what, and I am called to do the same.

The Transformational Power of Giving

I am behind - again.  But this time it is not for want of trying.  I haven't counted how many times I have started, stopped and revised this post.  If I had, I think we would all be shocked.  The Transformational Power of Giving.  Every one of us has at least one story we can tell about how in giving we received more blessings than we ever would have imagined.  The Pastor talked about the group from our church who worked in 100 degree heat to rehab a house for Margaret after the Joplin tornado left her homeless.  The teenagers who went to workcamp received much more than they gave.  Those who planned, supplied and served at our Community Thanksgiving Dinner were tired, but had a complete understanding of the impact they had made on the lives of those in attendance.  

It goes without saying that in the sermon there was biblical discussion of how and why we give.  Paul tells us that we give because God first gave to us, that we give out of joy and thankfulness for what we have, that our giving is to be proportional, that giving is a way to give back to God and to do God's work here on earth.  In giving and caring for each other we embody God for one another.  This post should be about recognizing all the wonderful ways we act, even in the smallest little smile, to share God's love.  So what is my problem?

When the Pastor went over all the ways that routine, administrative expenses and actions - paying for salaries, keeping up buildings, paying utilities - within the church contribute to the work of God it raised a question that I just haven't been able to shake.  Is all giving transformational?  In today's culture we are warned about giving, or not giving, to organizations whose administrative costs are higher than "they" say they should be.  In addition, we have an almost pathological need to know what impact each dime we give has made in the life of another, poor, disadvantaged soul.  Why?  Why do we do that?  Is it about ensuring the efficacy of our donation, or is it about making ourselves feel important, generous, and impactful?  How do we find the balance between responsible giving and our need to control and micromanage every aspect of our giving?

I have been turning those question over and over for nearly two weeks now.    Here are some of the conclusions I have reached (for today, any way):
1. We humans need to give.  In the same way humans are made with a need to be in relationship - with God, with others - I think we are also made with a need to give.
2. If we are created in God's image, and God gave and gives to us so generously, then in order to resemble God we, too, need to give.
3. The truest and deepest form of giving is giving of yourself, giving out of concern for the best interests of the recipient.  That's not to say that giving money and things isn't important too, but when we give of ourselves we give as God gives.  That is what the group in Joplin, the youth and the dinner workers experienced. 
4. No where in what Paul says about giving (or anyone else that I could find for that matter) does it say that we get the satisfaction of knowing what impact we have had.  In fact, most of the main actors in the Bible had no concrete, measurable evidence that they had changed even one life.  They just did what they were called to do and had faith that it would all work out.

In the last post I decided I need to take a leap of faith about there being "enough."  Maybe I also need to have a little more faith in giving.  I'm not sure if my issue is trust, or control, or something else behind that almighty need to know.  One thing I do know is that with God there is always mystery.  Maybe accepting and embracing the mystery is the opportunity to deepen and widen my spiritual understanding.  When I give, sometimes the emotional/spiritual pay off is not a story to be recounted, but the quiet knowledge that I acted and there are ripples somewhere, for someone, and that it is good.

Will I Have Enough?

Will I have enough?  That was the topic of the sermon.  The question is how, in a materialistic, consumer-driven society, do we make spiritually informed decisions about allocating our resources.  The Pastor went on to provide us with some scriptural and practical examples and scenarios for reflection.  I have been contemplating that question and the resources she offered.  While a part of me feels like I “should” stay with the biblical and really explore the paradox of giving, how when you give you feel more blessed than the receiver.  Another, larger part of me feels a different, somewhat more secular direction is in order this week.

As I thought about the ways I choose to allocate my resources it seems that behind the “reasons” I almost always find fear.  There are some basic fears – shelter, food, and clothing.  But what about the other fears - fear that I won’t have enough for my needs, fear that I will be judged as too miserly, fear that I will be judged as wastefully extravagant, fear that what I have to give isn’t good enough, fear that I won’t have enough for my children or family, fear that I won’t have enough to be considered successful, fear that tomorrow will be so much worse than today?  All of those fears are reinforced and deepened by our culture, the media, and even our leaders.  Didn’t both sides proclaim a future of doom and despair should their opponent be elected?  And what about that ultimate fear - the fear that I am not enough?

A friend once suggested to me that too much worry (which could also be read as too much fear) is a sign of weak faith, or even lack of faith.  I suppose the argument could be made that if I trusted completely in the goodness and providence of God then I would not worry or fear anything. But what about the discussion we had a few weeks back about how bad things just happen, whether we deserve them or not?  Isn’t some fear/worry and subsequent preparation normal, human, and healthy?

Maybe the problem is when I let the fear or the worry win.  When fear is the one and only reason I react.  And it is only reacting; there is no way to act out of fear because you have already created a worst-case scenario.  When I do that I am blinded to the good and abundance around me because I see only scarcity.  I cannot imagine a better and more prosperous outcome because  I are locked in a prison of darkness, that worst case. 

I think it was Sheryl Crow who said, “It’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got.”  I know I am not the best at that.  I have always preferred to prepare for the worst and be pleasantly surprised when it is a more favorable outcome.    I am going to consciously try to imagine what could be, what kind of community I would like this to be, and then believe that it can be.  Time to take a leap of faith, believing that no matter what there will be enough.

 

So That

During our Generosity of Giving Campaign, we are evaluating what we do; why we do it and how does it serve the purposes of God.  A particularly good formula for asking these types of questions begins by focusing on two of the most important words in our Biblical narrative; “So that.”

Salem in Ballwin will have a choir so that  “______________.”

“So that” our worship maintains its traditional character and it remains distinctive from the other churches in the area who have praise bands.

We have always had a choir “so that” is why we have one now. 

Nothing wrong with any of these statements but as we make ministry decisions about the worship and the choir, there needs to be a clear focus on the mission guiding those decisions.  We might say:

Salem in Ballwin will have a choir “so that” worshiping hearts and minds can connect with the good news through music and singing.

Having a clear “so that” statement helps to keep everyone focused on the end and not just the means.  Ultimately, we need to be able to connect everything we do with a meaningful and purposeful “so that.”  A good place to begin to have more of these conversations is by starting with  two of the ultimate “so that’s.”

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. (John 3:16)

God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him.  (I John 4:9)

In these two passages we not only name the action of God in Christ - God gave his only Son - but it also names God’s ultimate purposes - so that we might live through him.   Everything that we understand about the mission and purpose of God is wrapped up in these two verses.

In the next two weeks, we are going to be focusing on what resources Salem in Ballwin can contribute to this work.  We are also going to be asking you as individuals to evaluate what financial resources you personally can contribute to this work..."so that."

---Pastor Suzanne

The Paradox of the Beattitudes

I have been trying and trying to process this week's topic, the paradox of the Beatitudes from Luke 6:20-31.  I squirmed uncomfortably in service when Pastor Suzanne talked about our instant gratification  society, our impatience, the expectation that everything happen now.  Most people who know me know that my regular prayer is God give me patience, but give it to me now!  So waiting until some unspecified time in the future to be compensated, or rewarded, for "suffering" is something I would rather not do.

As I dug around for commentary and interpretation the very first part of the first verse in this week's scripture jumped off the page.  "Looking at his disciples, he said..."  My understanding has always been that Jesus is offering encouragement and "compensation" for whatever we must endure in this life.  That sentence changes this into a code of conduct - instructions for how to be in the world while not being of the world.  When I backed up to verse 17 I see that he was talking to "A large crowd of his disciples... and a great number of people from all over..."

Well, now I am just confused and feel like I need to rethink the Beatitudes.  They are contradictory, difficult, and demanding, especially in the context of a consumerist, materialistic society.  The longer I ponder the more they feel like a reminder that God loves us, God wants the best for us, and that has nothing to do with our actions or status in life and everything to do with our relationship with God.   

Where Were You?

I really feel for Job, don't you?  He was doing his best to live a good life, justified and sanctified.  He defends God when his wife tells him to just die and get it over with.  He maintains his innocence in the face of his friend's accusations.  And when he finally gives in to the suffering and loss, demanding that God explain just why he should suffer so much, what does he get?  A kindly, gentle, bumbling angel named Clarence to help him find his way?  No!  A voice from a whirlwhind!

And what does the voice say?  God pretty much puts Job in his place, answering his question with questions that point out how ridiculous it is for Job to demand an explanation.  After all, if Job wasn't there when God created EVERYTHING then how could Job possibly comprehend the answer?

I find it completely unsatifying that Job gets a response but no answers.  God's response does not mention humans, does not even acknowledge Job's situation and suffering.  God's response speaks of the wonders of creation, but there is no cause and effect, no good and evil.   It simply is. 

So God's actions in the world are God's actions in the world.  They are not about reward and punishment, they are not about us(me), they simply are.  In simply being, they are mystery and mysterious.   Even though I want to think I'm in control, I'm not and in the end creation belongs to God.  We don't earn our blessings any more than we earn or trials.  I am not the center of the universe, but I am not alone.   God responds, I just need to listen.

The Peril and the Promise of Being Met by Jesus

Sorry to have been away for a while.  A computer crash and life have gotten in the way.  And I have to confess to procrastination.  I am not all that comfortable with the passage from three weeks ago.  The sermon was based on Mark 10:17-31, discussing the "rich" and the kingdom of God.  You know the story, rich man-what do I have to do-give everything away-camel and eye of the needle-etc.

OK, so from this passage I infer that I can't buy my way into eternal life, can't earn it through good deeds, I can't accumulate brownie points for following the rules, so then how, exactly, do I get it?  I think I am living a good life, just like the poor guy in scripture.  In the context of our culture I'm not rich, but  I am comfortable and admit to having a lot of stuff.  Can you see me squirming uncomfortably?  I feel for the rich man in this passage.

I can't help but wonder what was going through the rich guy's mind as he walked away.   Was what he had to give up so much more than what others give up?  Is the relinquishing literal, or is it figurative.  Was he worried about providing for his family?  I think I learned in Job that we get good and bad, whether we deserve it or not.  So we get things and we lose things, whether we deserve it or not.  Was it control issues (is it for me)?  Is it about the fear of not having the social standing that we want?  That is a big part of it for me, especially living in a culture that bombards me with the message that more, bigger, newer, shinier is success.  Anything less is failure.  Maybe the message is that he needs to give up his faith in things, and put his faith in God.  That raises a whole host of other questions for me.  How do I do that?  Is is proportionate, like the widow with the two coins?  How do I know if I'm doing it right? What about the rest of my family and my responsibility to them?  Is progress enough?  Am I enough?

So, following Jesus is not easy.  It is not a panacea.  It will not protect you from bad things, or make you wealthy in material things.  No surprise that the guy couldn't decide right there on the spot when he realized those things.  But, what really stand out for me is Jesus doesn't condemn the man.  Even when the man doesn't enthusiastically go along, promise to give everything up, when he walks away Jesus simply loves him.  By doing that Jesus leaves the door open and maybe the guy walks through that door later on.  That gives me hope that the door is still open for all (and by all, I mean me).

The Good and the Bad

If, like me, you are a fan of Spaghetti Westerns you are wondering, where is the Ugly? I'm waiting to hear Eli Wallach's gravelly voice saying, "Hey! Blondie!"  But this week we just looked at the good and the bad, through Job's eyes.  How do we name the countless blessings in our lives and reconcile that joy with devastating loss?  Why do bad things happen to good people (and good things happen to bad people)?

In the scripture Job 1:1, 2:1-10 we learn that Job is a person of perfect integrity and faith.  But, that integrity and faith did not protect him from suffering.  It would seem that Job understood that based on his reply to his wife, saying, "Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?"  Now, he said that while sitting in the ashes and scraping sores with a shard of pottery.  Really?!  Job knew that his integrity and faith offered no shield from bad things.

And here is the big BUT.  But, he didn't necessarily accept that.  The rest of the book is Job questioning, railing, demanding, that God explain it to him. It seems to me that more than Job's patience and endurance, I envy his confidence that arguing with God is OK.  Considering his circumstances I have to wonder if maybe Job thought it couldn't possible get worse.  The glass-half-empty believer in me says be careful.  It can always get worse.

Of course, the glass-half-full side of this is that even if there is trouble, there is always blessing.  Being in relationship with God is not about what we get out of it, it is about loving God for who God is.  Even if we are angry and argue with God, God will still be there.  Even if we are grateful for our blessings, there will still be loss.  Even though we are human, we can enter into an authentic, give-and-take relationship with the divine.  Even if...

Half Empty or Half Full?

Glass-Half-Empty or Glass-Half-Full.  Which one are you?  Psychologists can tell a lot about you from this one simple question.  If that is true, that we all fall on one side or the other to some degree, then it is reasonable to postulate that we are actually hard-wired to this kind of dichotomous thinking.  By nature we see the world either from a perspective of scarcity or a perspective of abundance.

I don't deny it, I am definitely in the Half-Empty camp.  I have often said that I expect the worst hoping to be pleasantly surprised.  This outlook is reinforced by current culture.  The only place I can think of where less is more is Weight Watchers and similar groups.   When was the last time a commercial urged you to put less food on the table, to pare down your closet, to keep your old car and repair it?  Bigger and newer are better and will make you happy, will even make you into a better person.

I am somewhat comforted by the passages we looked at last Sunday on the feeding of the 4000 and the feeding of the 5000 (Matthew 15:30-38 and Matthew 14:14-21).  I find myself in good company. In addition to being exhausted, the disciples share my fear that there will not be enough.  Enough what, you ask?  Enough anything - food, money, clothing, shoes, time... enough Jesus.  The list goes on and on.

But, Jesus shows the disciples that there is enough.  He doesn't chide them, he accepts the humanity of their disbelief.  (Can you hear me sighing in relief?).  Jesus simply asks what they have, blesses it, then tells them to distribute it and they actually gather left overs!  No recriminations, no accusations of insufficient faith, no I-told-you-so's.

Barbara Brown Taylor offers the possibility that when the baskets of food were passed, the people who had food with them were so moved that they shared what they had, replenishing the supplies.  Whether it is because of a miracle that Jesus performs that magically replenishes what is used, or because each one partaking also shared what they had available isn't really important.  The bottom line is there was a miracle.

The message I got this week is two-fold.  First, What is important is how you approach any problem - in fear and doubt, waiting for God to take care of it, or with confidence and faith, acting purposefully. Jesus' actions show me that I do not have to change my nature, it is normal to see life from a perspective of scarcity.  But, I shouldn't let that perspective keep me from action or from seeing the possibilities.  The second message I got this week is that  we have the power, we are able to solve whatever problems we face, no matter how overwhelming they seem.  With God there is always more than enough.

Getting Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable

In this week's scripture, The Faith of the Canaanite Woman (or alternately the story of the Syro-Phoenician Woman) from Matthew 15:21-28, everyone in the story is uncomfortable - the woman, the disciples, maybe even Jesus himself.   And it makes many of us uncomfortable to read the story because Jesus appears to first ignore and then insult someone pleading for mercy.  How could it be that our God of love would not only ignore her pleas, but fo on to compare her to a dog?

The woman had to be uncomfortable asking for help.  She was a woman, a gentile, a widow, and a mother.  She was willing to endure rebuke, shame, humiliation out of love for her daughter.  I like to think that love gave her the strength to be as persistent as needed to accomplish the healing of her daughter.

The disciples were clearly uncomfortable.  It isn't clear from the reading whether or not they tried to shoo the woman away.  Based on the way they complain to Jesus and ask him to deal with the woman it seems reasonable to believe they tried and failed to send her on her way.  I think at this point they were probably accustomed to people doing as they asked, and were probably thrown for a loop when she persisted.

And what about Jesus?  Who knows if he was uncomfortable?  Do we need to know?  What is it we can learn from the story, accepting it as it is and not trying to rationalize away what appears to be a callous and uncaring attitude?

I couldn't help wondering if Jesus was teaching the disciples by example.  He knew that they would have an arduous road ahead of them, there would be times when they were too tired to truly see everyone around them, let alone respond to them.  Maybe he was showing them that it would be normal, and OK for that to happen.

Jesus had a clearly articulated commitment to the Jews, and so did the disciples.  Jesus even states that to the woman, maybe to show the disciples that they may become too focused on the task at hand to truly see everyone around them, let alone respond to them.  Maybe he was showing them that this, too would be normal.

But, Jesus was also teaching them that at the end of the day, you have to look outside yourself and really see and hear everyone around you - even those who society deems to be lower than dogs. The woman does not dispute that Jesus' call is the the children of Israel, but she believes that even after he accomplishes his task he will have more than enough left over for her - she hungers for her daughter's healing, and she sees abundance in the scarcity of crumbs.

That is where I was going to end this week, but then I saw a kind of a parallel that I feel I need to share.  The woman was willing to do whatever was needed, be as persistent as required, annoy whoever needed to be annoyed, be shamed, rebuked, humiliated for the love of our daughter.  The degree is different, but I see is a parallel to the path Jesus took, willing to risk and endue whatever in order to achieve our healing.  Maybe being uncomfortable is tamed and conquered with love.