Comparative Discipleship

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
October 28th 2007
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Comparative Discipleship”
Luke 18:9-14

Like last week, we join Jesus and the disciples on the road. This unknown location where he and the disciples are travelling and learning together is a great metaphor for the journey of faith. This section in Luke makes two things abundantly clear; the first is that no one can remain faithful alone and the second is that faith was never intended to be stagnant. Faith must be nurtured or it will wither. So these parables on the road are meant to inform our journey so that our faith will be nurtured.
Also like last week, we find out much about the parable even before Jesus tells the story. This time, the information is not about the meaning of the parable but about the intended audience. This parable is told for: “Those who trust in their righteousness and regard other with contempt.” From this brief introduction it is clear that trusting in our own righteousness and feeling contempt for or looking down upon other people is contrary to faithful living. (Just in case you missed that…)
The passage presents a rather simple contrast that might lead us to believe it has little to offer. It is one of those well worn stories which can lead to an almost dismissive familiarity. But, when Jesus tells the story, the expectations of his hearers were a little different. In the eyes of the religious community the good guy and the bad guy are easily identified. But unlike modern hearers the Pharisees were seen as religiously pure and upright in the eyes of God. And, no one would ever think a tax collector would be an example of faithfulness. But in this parable, the well ordered ancient world was about to be turned on its’ head.
While it might seem odd, there is nothing earth-shattering throughout most of the parable. It was common for all sorts of people to ascend the temple mount and to pray. There is nothing odd about the Pharisee standing up front or for a tax collector to standing at the back. In fact, we should be careful not to beat up on the Pharisee who prays these words: God, I thank you that I am not like other people: the greedy, the unjust, the adulterers, or even like that tax collector. I fast two times more than the Sabbath requirements, and give a tenth of my very large income.” (This is my translation.) This is a prayer of a person who clearly believes that God is on his side, and he knows this because he can compare himself with the obvious sinners of the world.
In contrast to the Pharisee, the tax collector knows that he not welcome in the company of the religious. After all, the tax collector makes a living by selling out his own people to the empire of Rome. He is not someone who would be welcome in many places, let alone the temple of God. Yet, the tax-collector goes to the temple and stands in the back. (Apparently he is a Presbyterian tax collector since he heads for the back row.) As he hits himself on the chest unable to even lift up his eyes he cries out because he knows what he is doing is wrong. He knows how it hurts the poor and how it is contrary to God’s law. Yet he comes anyway carrying those burdens. The only prayer he can must is simply: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”
Up to this point in the parable, the script has gone according to expectations: On the one hand we have a Pharisee while annoyingly pious is righteous. On the other hand we have the tax-collector an all around bad guy. However, when Jesus is finished, he makes it abundantly clear that our expectations and beliefs are wrong. It is the tax-collector and not the Pharisee who went home justified in the eyes of God. The simply truth of this passage is that anyone who really hears this passage should be shocked or offended. After all, the Pharisee might not be fun to be around, at least he follows the rules, and the tax-collector is a known crook. It simply does not make any sense… but that is the way of discipleship. (Who might you place in the role of tax-collector?)
Jesus does not end there in upending societal expectations. In the same breath he calls his followers to the way of humility. “…all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted” With this, Jesus comes into direct conflict with the wisdom of the day. In this ancient culture, humility was not a virtue. In fact, it was seen simply as a vice and a sign of weakness. For Jesus to lift up humility, he was calling his all his disciples to take a stand against any culture which values and rewards pride, or hubris.
At the heart of this parable, is the simple message that in the life of faith there is no room for comparative discipleship. Competition is not a kingdom value because it puts us into conflict with the people we need most. The problem with competition in the life of the faith is that it can lead us to despise, taunt, look down upon, or even harm other people. In fact, anytime we become elitist in our thinking or our practice, inside or outside the church, it is we who are acting the part of the Pharisee. Ultimately, this passage shows that comparison discipleship is really a lack of maturity in life and in faith. Our maturity in faith begins to show its face when we no longer measure our lives against others.
A few months ago Emma was complaining that one of her friends was always able to run faster. This is something which frustrates her greatly. I tried to address her frustration and sadness about the fact that he might always be faster. And what I should have done was try to explain that some people are better at some things than others. But I didn’t. Instead I looked at her frustration and sadness and in a moment of wanting to make it all better I said: “The next time he says something about being faster or winning, just remind him how much shorter he is than you.” Instead of trying to express her intrinsic worth, I gave in to the practice of lifting ourselves up by tearing others down.
This sort of competition runs deep in all of us and when we seek to instill the kingdom values in our lives and in the lives of our children it is not easy. It will require all of us working together. So when we are together, seeking to serve God and be a witness to the faith that is in us, let us seek to follow the ways of humility and not comparison or competition. Like the song goes, we may not be able to pray like Peter or preach like Paul but we can tell of the love of Jesus. Amen? Amen.

A Lesson in Prayer

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
October 21st 2007
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“A Lesson in Prayer”
Luke 18:1-8

Today’s scripture, the parable of the widow and the unjust ruler, is pretty unique as far as parables go. At the very beginning of the parable, Jesus makes it abundantly clear what the disciples are supposed to hear in the parable. The point of the parable is rather simple: “pray always and do not lose heart.” That’s it. So, for the next 15 to 20 minutes I am just going to repeat that over and over again… just kidding… sort of.
I was sitting in meeting with a group of clergy when the time came to hand out jobs. The person coordinating the meeting went down the task list and asked for volunteers. The response was tepid. People refusing to look up and acting as if they did not hear until the request came for a rather big job. As soon as the request was made one person spoke up and said: “I will pray over that.” The coordinator looked stunned and said: “Prayers are great but we need someone who will actually get some work done.” After a moment of tense silence the volunteer explained that for him to pray over something meant that he would get the work done. It was an encounter which shows how prayer can be seen as not only of secondary importance to real life stuff but even at odds with it. Looking at our passage as a guide to prayer can seem rather strange and even leave us with some nagging questions.
While it can appear on the surface that this story is about a widow who has no where to turn she is not really the central figure– at least from the perspective of action and speech. In fact, the widow does one thing. She just keeps repeating this phrase: “Grant me justice against my opponent.” Instead, the person who takes up most of the space in the passage is the judge, which tells us that we ought to pay close attention to this figure. So who is this unnamed judge?
Jesus tells the story with an easily identifiable villain. The judge does not fear God and doe not respect people. He is the sort of person who is a target for attacks by the right because is a “godless judge, as well as by the left because he ignores the poor. In other words, he is a judge without friends. When the judge is identified as not fearing God, it is a clear reference to Old Testament wisdom which says that: the beginning of all wisdom is the fear of God. In fact, those who do not ‘fear God’ are considered fools who are unable to understand the law or the ways of justice and righteousness. So, we have the character of the judge who does not care about being faithful to the ways of God but is the person who has the power to provide for the poor widow.
At this point, it is important to know that the mere existence of the widow is meant as an indictment of the established order. We know this because if people know the ways of the law, they know that widows and orphans are supposed to be cared for by society. So, it follows that a society which does not provide justly for its widows and orphans is not a faith based society, at least the faith taught in the bible. But Jesus does not simply make an indictment against unjust societies; he provides encouragement to those who are being treated unjustly.
The encounter between the judge and the widow is a testimony to the powerful tools available even to the perceived powerless. This widow is without her husband or another man to fend for her in this patriarchal society. It is clear this she is just in her cause. But justice is available to those without money in different ways than those with means. This widow is alone in the world. She does not have money or a friend who plays golf with the judge, or other access to the perks of the powerful. By most accounts she is powerless. However, Jesus shows that no one is without power. This widow, by her repetition and persistence, wears the man down.
At this point, we should be careful with this story. The justice that came rolling down in only a few verses took a great deal of time. To get the attention of people in positions of power it takes money or for the rest of us, it takes patient and persistent action. That is actually what is happening in this passage. When the judge finally grants the request, he has been dealing with her nagging for some time. His concern is not only making her go away but keeping his reputation intact. The term, she will wear me out really is better translated will damage his standing. The widow has made it so that everywhere he goes she is there saying: “Grant me justice.” Her persistent action, her only recourse left, was the tool which gave her justice.
One of the nagging issues raised in the passage is: what does this say about God? It could be taken to mean that God is an arbitrary figure that will listen only if we are pestering. However, this passage is not primarily about God. Instead, this passage is about being faithful in the midst of real life. After all, real life is full of injustice. In real life, the powerful take advantage of the poor, support injustice, and even create policy which harms widows and orphans so to remain faithful we had better be persistent in prayer or we will loose faith
The point or focus is about our actions. To remain faithful we need to remain grounded in our faith in the midst of bad news times. The discipline of prayer keeps us focused on the ongoing struggles against the powers and principalities of this world. This is why Jesus teaches us to pray: “Your kingdom come!” When we pray those words it is an indictment of the kingdoms, nations, and countries of this world. In reality, it is a subversive practice. Prayer is not a mere formality it is the foundational discipline which keeps us grounded in the life of faith. In her work; The Spiritual Life, Evelyn Underhill points out this reality:
Most of our conflicts and difficulties come from trying to deal with the spiritual and practical aspects of our life separately instead of realizing them as parts of one whole. If our practical life is centered on our own interests, cluttered up by possessions, distracted by ambitions, passions, wants and worries, beset by a sense of our own rights and importance, or anxieties for our own future, or longings for our own success, we need not expect that our spiritual life will be a contrast to all this. The soul’s house is not built on such a convenient plan: there are few soundproof partitions in it.
I am amazed at the number of times I get caught up in the day to day details of life and forget this simple truth. There are projects to finish, calls to be made, and details to attend to. Add to this the reality of the world all around us and it can grind us down if we are not connected to the source of our lives. So as we prepare as we seek to live faithfully in the midst of all the cares and concerns let us remember to pray over all the work we do so that we will find encouragement and not loose heart along the way. Amen? Amen.

Unexpected Praise

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
October 14th 2007

Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Unexpected Praise”
Luke 17:11-19

Over the last few years we have been hearing a great deal about torture. For most of us, it began when pictures from Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq made their way to the mainstream press. When those stories came to light the party line was that the incidences were a result of a few bad apples. A few years later we are now finding out that much more was known. In fact, it turns out that we have actually been refining these techniques for over a generation.
As followers of Jesus, torture is something we know about. Any accurate representation of the crucifixion will make it clear that life of our Lord and Savoir, Jesus, ended through state sanctioned torture. It is amazing that the resurrection, which is the heart of our faith, serves as God’s no to these ways of death. God’s final Word shows us that another way of healing and wholeness is possible despite news to the contrary.
As more news of torture has made it to the public eye the information has been revealing. It turns out that information gathering is only one purpose of torture. The greater goal is to dehumanize those being tortured and also to strike fear in everyone else. Along with this, another key element is to separate and to isolate people making them believe they are all alone and in essence cease to become a human being. It is at this point where our scripture comes into play. In a world so addicted to the ways of death and destruction, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus shows that another way is not only possible but is, in fact, the will of God. Throughout his life, Jesus actively worked to overcome the dehumanizing practices of our world and in doing so, bringing healing and wholeness.
Jesus is on a journey. While the exact location is unclear, we know it is beyond the edges of civilization. It was a place where you would find the outcasts and undesirables, a place for the lepers. The law was very clear; all those with leprosy are to remain outside of the city. Exiled from the community, they were living as though they were no longer fully human. It was so bad that lepers were required to call out: “Unclean!” “Unclean!” In this way, everyone would know that their primary definition in life was unclean. The group in our story has so thoroughly internalized this belief they would not risk getting close to the only person they knew could heal them. They were so unclean, so unworthy that their only hope was mercy from afar.
Jesus’ response is not to proclaim their healing. Instead, he instructs them to go and see the priests. It is an empowering moment because they have a choice to make. Until now, they were just lepers whose whole existence was determined by the rules of society. But here, Jesus instructs them to go and see the priests. He does not promise healing. And, in fact, these people are not healed until they begin to move toward the priests, a move back into the community. The movement back into the community is at her heart of the healing. It is a powerful witness to the importance of the connectedness in the life of faith.
As these former lepers move back into the community, one of them realizes what has happened. He runs back and falls at the feet of Jesus and gives thanks and praise. It is an amazing moment because as the Samaritan realizes he is healed, he returns to Jesus to give thanks. It is also possible that he realized that upon his return, despite no longer being a leper, he would not have been welcomed by the priest. After all, even healed, Samaritans are outsiders, not welcomed in the community. The healing of these ten exiles should have brought wholeness to all. But once they are healed the old social arrangements and divisions continue to divide, leaving the Samaritan behind.
When all is said and done, it is the healed outcast who shows gratitude to God. The Samaritan, unclean by his very nature, knows how to give God thanks and praise. When it becomes clear to him that He has been healed he turns toward Jesus. In doing so, he is turning away from the social divisions of his day. But the other nine do not show gratitude and seem to embrace the return of their social privilege, even if it means leaving someone behind. Having been healed, they refuse to embrace the ways of Jesus. While they have received physical healing, they are still exiled from their fellow child of God.
To see this Samaritan praising God and embracing the life-giving ways of faith is a powerful witness. Despite living in a world which sees him a less that whole, the Samaritan becomes a witness to the radically inclusive grace available to all. Jesus’ instruction to the lepers, to show themselves to the priests, is an invitation to healing and wholeness which includes even a Samaritan. Unfortunately, it is an invitation that not all of them can embrace. In this story, and in life, the pull of social expectations and religious custom keep us from sharing and participating in this great good news. The stark truth is that anything which divides us from our brothers and sisters is a tool which works to dehumanize us. In this passage, Jesus is calling us to say no to those tools.
In this passage, the call embrace a life of healing and wholeness which says no to the ways of death and destruction is extended to us as well. Our response then is supposed to be one of gratitude giving thanks for the new way of life in Jesus Christ. However, we may also choose another way. That is the way of selfishness which would let us justify leaving our fellow lepers behind believing life can be found in the divisions of this world. So, instead, let us always seek the ways of gratitude and the ways of life. Not only by offering praise in worship and in prayer but in following the witness of the lone Samaritan. Let us follow this lone Samaritan in response to our own healing. Our lives then can become a witness to the truth that the ways of division, the ways of humiliation, the ways of torture, and yes even the ways of death, do not have the last word. The good news is this: It does not have to be this way… this is not what God intended… healing and wholeness are possible for all. And that is something for which we can all give thanks, everyday. Amen? Amen.

“Why Do They Hate Us?”

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
October 7th 2007
Communion Sunday Meditation
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Why Do They Hate Us?”
Lamentations 1:1-6; Luke 17:1-6; Psalm 137

In a world where religiously sanctioned violence is on the rise Psalm 137 can seem not only shocking but dangerous.
“Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!”
It is the sort of scripture which can leave us looking for the easy explanation to lessen the impact of these words. In fact, one way to deal with this passage is to say: “Well they did not have the revelation of Jesus teaching them forgiveness from the Gospel of Luke.” We could do this, but it would be unfaithful to the witness of scripture. Like it or not, these harsh words are part of the cannon of scripture and we cannot simply dismiss them as pre-Jesus stuff that should be ignored.
The impulse to dismiss these words or quickly explain them away has its roots in our great culture of denial. There really is no healthy place for expressions of rage and anger. Add to that the religious expectations that lead us to always be nice and to always put on a happy face. Fortunately, the full witness of scripture shows that these impulses are not rooted in the Word of God but in our culture.
Now at this point, you might be wondering of all Sundays, why would he choose to talk about this sort of thing on Peacemaking Sunday. It would seem that language about revenge and murder of children is precisely the sort of thing we are working to end. While that may seem true, recent history has shown us, in South Africa, Northern Ireland and elsewhere, that in order for peacemaking and reconciliation to occur, truth-telling must come first. And the hard truth is that this is not a practice which comes easy, particularly for folks in the United States.
By the title of the sermon you might think I have planned to say something about the current war on terror. However, that is not my plan this morning. Instead, I want to share a more personal journey, a testimony of my own experience of coming to understand the expressions of rage and anger in our country. Though I cannot remember for sure the year, I know I was old enough to drive but still in high school. It was early summer and my family was glued to the images that were being beamed into our home from a television helicopter crew. Just a few blocks from the home where I grew up, a conflict, or battle, was occurring between Indianapolis police officers in riot gear and a large group of young black men. To this day, those images remain vivid. As a young man watching that television footage I did not understand what was happening. The rage did not make any sense to me, and the adults of whom I went to for guidance were of little help. Each one offered a slightly different interpretation but the message was the same: We just do not understand why they are so full of anger and hatred. While I did not challenge these explanations, there was a gnawing feeling that there had to be more to the story.
A few years later, as a senior in college, these questions again came to the surface. The uprising in Los Angeles occurred, again in prime time television. As my friends prepared for our weekly weekend ritual – and it wasn’t going to church… - I could not pull myself away hoping to gain some clarity and understanding. As I asked why again, the response from those around me was to once again claim the mantle of ignorance and innocence with the refrain: “We just do not understand why they are so full of anger and hatred.” Again, I was not satisfied by these assessments but it would take leaving the country before I was able to find some clarity.
As a Young Adult Volunteer, in Northern Ireland, I worked with a number of community workers committed to reconciliation and peace work. As I become closer with a few of them, I became bolder in asking questions of them when riots broke out. My question came out something like: “What is the point of this sort of thing? What are they hoping to accomplish?” Fortunately, my new found friends were good at field the questions of the naive and ignorant. So instead of being told where I could go, I was given an earful. While I do not remember the exact words, it went something like this: There is not point to any of this, and that is the point. Many of our people do not have jobs, life is miserable for most folks. They live under the threat of being killed by rival terrorists and harassment by the police and the military. The rage and anger is not calculated, it just explodes when one more thing pushes people who are already fed up.
It took me some time to make sense of this. But in the process I begin to see that what happened in Northern Ireland was not all that different than what was going on in my own country. When the quiet riot in this country ceases to be quiet and the anger and rage comes to the surface it cannot be dismissed as unexplainable anger. Instead we must acknowledge the basis for the anger, and for the rage. This is what I believe the biblical witness is showing in these harsh words from this mornings Psalm.
The power of this passage is the inclusion of raw human emotion in the scripture. It is a witness that shows us that instead of burying our feelings or denying them, we should name them, not act on them. It is critical for us to notice that this passage is not a call to arms but a cry in anger. It is a prayer of pain directed toward God who can handle such honesty and pain. The witness of this passage is that unless this pain is named and acknowledged the result will be a continuation of the destructive patterns. The rage and anger will rise up and be met with more state violence. And then, society will continue to claim ignorance in the face of justified pain and anger. Both contribute to the continuing cycle of violence and death.
As we prepare to gather at this table, we reenact the last event prior to the humiliation, torture and execution of our Lord and Savior. It is a reminder that at the heart of our faith is not an escape from the pain of the world. Instead, we are provided sustenance in our struggle against the powers of death in this world. Eating this bread and drinking this cup will give life in ways that the bread and the wine of the world can never satisfy. And most importantly, we learn at this table and through scripture that: While it may not be safe to share pain, rage and anger in our society, it is not only safe, but faithful to do so in the presence of the faithful and before God. So let us prepare to pour out our burdens, and pick up the bread of life and the cup of salvation so we too can always speak the truth, in love, to a world that may not always want to hear. Amen? Amen.