I was in Home Depot in very early November and was once again flabbergasted (it happens to me every year) to see that the store Christmas display was up and running. The brightly lit and perfectly decorated artificial trees were in their carefully placed rows, and a variety of inflatable holiday characters had sprouted up near by, merrily swaying in the breeze – almost as if they were waving to unassuming customers - each time the exterior doors opened.
I commented to a clerk how odd it must feel to have all that “stuff” around so early in November. She laughed and told me that this particular location was one of the first on the list this year and so had been transformed for Christmas in mid-September.
And so our stores and malls become clogged with wreaths and reindeer. Creche scenes pop up on lawns all over town. Christmas carols begin to fill the airwaves, and once again we all give in to our annual obsession with candlelight. And so Advent begins as we prepare for the birth of that baby in Bethlehem.
However, according to the Gospel writer of Mark, who apparently does not think that the birth of Jesus was worth recording anyway, you can toss out the manger and the star, the angels and the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. As James Love, former United Church of Canada pastor, wrote: “When Mark looks into the sky, what he sees are cosmic fireworks: a darkened sun, a dim moon, stars falling from the sky like sparks from a sparkler - and there, in the center of the smoke, the Son of God coming in clouds with great power and glory.”
Each year here in church we begin Advent not in the peaceful oasis of the stable out behind the inn where there was no room but rather in the chaos of what appears to be the end times. In fact, this section of the Gospel of Mark is known in scholarly circles as the Little Apocalypse.
Today, I want to look at this passage of rack and ruin in a slightly different way. After all, the word “apocalypse” simply means a revelation or unveiling. Can we reveal or unveil anything that might cause us to at least consider a different perspective when we begin our Advent journey in the midst of such heavenly induced pyrotechnics?
So - let’s take a moment and look at these verses from the point of view of someone in the first century, someone hearing these words of the Gospel writer for the first time. What meaning would they have had? What was happening in that first century world? What would have prompted the writer to say these things as he told the story of Jesus? What was the historical context of this passage?
The first thing to understand about this Gospel – about any of the four gospels really – is that their authors were not eye witnesses to Jesus and his ministry. The disciples did not write any of the gospels. And that makes perfect sense, when you think about it. After all, most of the disciples were illiterate fishermen who signed their names with X’s – hardly budding authors.
Mark is the earliest gospel to be written, around the year 70 CE, 40 or so years after Jesus preached. This gospel was written about the time of one of the bloodiest and most violent revolts that any Jew could remember. You see, Jewish zealots had occupied the holy city of Jerusalem until Roman besieged it and sacked it, bringing the Jewish population to its knees and destroying the temple, the place where God/Yahweh resided. In the end, it was all a pile of rubble, save its Western Wall, which to this day is still a place of Jewish pilgrimage, known as the Wailing Wall.
The early writer Josephus described the carnage this way: “Now as soon as the army had no more people to slay or to plunder, because there remained none to be the objects of their fury, [Titus] Caesar gave orders that they should now demolish the entire city and Temple…it was so thoroughly laid even with the ground…that there was left nothing to make those that came thither believe it [Jerusalem] had ever been inhabited….And truly, the very view itself was a melancholy thing; for those places which were adorned with trees and pleasant gardens, were now become desolate country (in) every way, and its trees were all cut down.”
Josephus goes on to say, “The slaughter within was even more dreadful than the spectacle from without. Men and women, old and young, insurgents and priests, those who fought and those who entreated mercy, were hewn down in indiscriminate carnage. The number of the slain exceeded that of the slayers. The legionaries had to clamber over heaps of dead to carry on the work of extermination.” Josephus claims that 1,100,000 people were killed during the siege, of which a majority were Jewish, and that 97,000 were captured and enslaved.
That was the world that the Gospel writer of Mark was experiencing – though we do not know for sure whether the gospel was written just before or just after the destruction of Jerusalem. If afterwards, then the writer had seen the rape and pillage, smelled the God-awful smoke from the flames that leapt hot and red high into the sky, heard the terrified screams of the citizenry. If the Gospel was written before the revolt, then the writer clearly saw the handwriting on the wall and articulated it in terrifyingly graphic images.
This was Mark’s world. Roman imperial victory and violence was what he knew and viscerally understood. And frankly, Mark’s experience and the experience of everyone who listened to his gospel just did not jive with all that Jesus had taught. I mean, for all Jesus’ talk about turning the other cheek, loving your enemy, living lives of non-violence where peace came not through military victory but rather through economic justice, it simply was not working. Daily life was still a constant brush with violence. Roman backlash was a drunken officer’s order away.
If this was the kingdom (of God or otherwise) that was among us, then why would any rational Jew ever choose to be a part of it? And besides, Jesus had gone out and gotten himself crucified – and now appeared to have jumped ship altogether.
If that sounds harsh, then think back on all you know about Jesus – “itinerant teacher, provocative preacher, outsider’s choice.”(J.Bell), befriending prostitutes, sharing meals with a tax collector and his cronies, preaching non-violence and economic justice as the way to peace on earth.
And remember what people were really looking for in a messiah – a leader who rode a mighty warhorse, not a peasant who rode sidesaddle on a donkey. As Lutheran pastor Todd Weir writes, “People of Christ's day expected a lot more of Jesus than he delivered. They wanted a messiah to make the world right --by their terms. (And) their terms were limited to narrow nationalistic expectations for Israel, by a sense that God was only concerned about one little patch of land at the junction of three continents.”
Maybe, just maybe, God ought to try again with this savior business and get it right the second time. Perhaps that is what Mark had in the back of his mind when he included this Little Apocalypse in his Gospel. And so we have one possible source of the theology we call the Second Coming.
Maybe, just maybe, God ought to try again with this savior business and get it right the second time. As seminary professor and preacher Fred Craddock commented, “Maybe people are obsessed with the Second Coming because deep down they are disappointed in the first one.”
I understand that feeling, and I bet you do too. We all long for a time when the wolf will lie down with the lamb, when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.
I long for a day when the economic gap between the affluent and the impoverished is mercifully shut. I hope that the Occupy movement will gain unstoppable momentum and that it will engage all of us and challenge each one of us to look at our own materialism and values.
I long for a day when we will have no troops in Afghanistan, when the Middle East will be stable, when we as a nation will cut our defense budget before we cut education and social programs, a day when warfare and hatred will cease.
I long for a day when we will not reflexively fear Muslims, when politicians will collaborate, when hunger and homelessness will cease to define our world. But I also know that most of the time, it is really hard to see that ever happening.
But this is Advent, the season of hope and promise. Yet, where is the hope and promise in this world that so much of the time seems so messed up?
For me, it is simply in the fact that the Second Coming has not come. What I mean is that once long ago, God put all those holy eggs in one basket and invested in us – with Jesus as a role model, as the way and the truth and the life for you and me.
And God – apparently - has not given up on us. That is the long and the short of it, and that fact is the most hopeful thing I can think of when all the world seems to have gone awry God has not given up on us.
God still believes that we can transform this world – each in our own little corner of it. Imagine that! God believes in our potential to achieve a higher level of consciousness maybe (That is what the Incas and Mayans would call it anyway.). God believes that we have it in us to really behave as if we were made in God’s image. God still believes in us.
Therein lies the essence of our Advent hope: right now, at least, we do not need a second coming. But more importantly, we can not depend on a second coming. Advent challenges us to live our lives trusting that the first coming, the one in the stable, is enough.
And so each year – and this year is no exception - we make ready. We prepare. We wait for the birth of the child in Bethlehem. We wait for that sign of God’s affirmation in us, in humanity. We place our hope in that sign of incarnation, that sign that God still believes in your innate ability – and in mine - to generate justice, which will someday bring peace on earth.
Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine
http://www.rvccme.org/
Monday, November 28, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
"ROI" - Matthew 25:14-30
Amazing God, when we are perplexed and challenged by scripture, open our hearts and minds to your abundant possibilities. Help us listen for your voice and give us courage to be bold in our response. Amen.
I began this sermon today with a prayer – something I do not ordinarily do. However, as I just confided to God, our quest to understand this Gospel lesson found in both Matthew and Luke deserves a prayer because this parable of the talents is indeed both perplexing and challenging.
Here we have a master, a wealthy landowner, who is on the road, going off – perhaps on an extended vacation, perhaps on a business trip – but anyway vacating his property for a significantly long period of time – so long that he felt compelled to leave his fortune divided unequally among three slaves.
As UCC pastor Hal Chorpenning notes: “Two of them are rabid proto-capitalists and one takes the safe route and takes care of what he’s got. Two are interested in growth and one is interested in security.”
To one of the slaves, the master gives five talents. Now, a talent is a first century unit of money, actually a lot of money. Five talents would be the equivalent of income for about 15 years of labor. In 21st century terms, say that you make $50,000 a year. That would be a cool $750,000.
To another slave, the master gave two talents – worth about what you could earn in 6 years. Using our $50,000 annual income as a guide, the worth of those two talents would be a whopping $300,000. And finally the master gave the third slave one talent, which would be like one year’s earnings – nothing to sneeze at either.
Now in the parable, the guy with five talents invests them handily and ends up with 10 talents (1.5 million bucks, using our equivalent) by the time the master returns.
“Awesome, good and faithful servant,” the master proclaims as he slaps him on the shoulder. “You understand the bottom line. You know how to get a decent ROI, return on investment.”
The two talent slave was equally successful because he also doubled what he had been given, ending up with 4 talents (or about $200,000).
“I am proud of you as well,” exclaimed the master. “You took risks and were not afraid of possible failure. You too understand the bottom line because you brought me a decent ROI, return on investment.”
By this time the one talent slave was a bit uneasy because, though he still had the one talent ($50,000), he did not have a penny more. “But hey,” he reminded himself. “I chose to play it safe, so I would not lose any money. With the economy as shaky as it has been, to me that was undeniably prudent.”
However, as you might have guessed, the master was not pleased. “You lazy you know what! You risk-averse little man! Because of your fear and lack of action, you have nothing to show. Your share goes to the millionaire over here. He deserves it, not you.”
“But wait!” protested the one talent slave. “Is there no place for caution, security, and the status quo in this world?”
When I was riding on the shuttle from the Tampa airport to get set for my breast cancer walk, I ended up talking with another walker from Louisville, Kentucky. She was telling me about her church and a wonderful program that the youth group leaders had initiated. It was called “Homeless for a Night” - and it was a variation on a lock-in, rock-a-thon, or giant slumber party at the church. The purpose of the event was to help these teenagers viscerally understand what being homeless felt like. Consequently, each one who participated was given a large cardboard box to set up in the church parking lot as his or her shelter for the night.
However, those participants who raised $50.00 in contributions (which would be donated to the local homeless shelter) were given a blanket in addition to their cardboard box. Those who raised $75.00 were given a blanket and a pillow. Those who raised $100.00 were given a blanket, a pillow, and a jacket to wear. The more these young Christians invested in the Gospel message and put it into action, the greater their ROI, return on investment.
Father Ernest Ezeogu tells a story about a man who was furious with God. "God," the angry man said, “I have been praying daily for three years that I should win the state lottery. You told us to ask and we shall receive. How come I never received all these three years I have been asking?"
Then he heard the voice of God, loud and clear. "My dear son," said God. "Please do me a favor. Buy a lottery ticket."
"If you wanna win, you got to play."
That is what this parable of the talents is telling us. Father Ezeogu goes on to say that “there are two kinds of people in our churches today: risk-takers and care-takers. The problem with care-takers is that they might show up at the undertaker's with little to show for the lives they have lived.”
There is an element of risk involved in asserting to be a Christian, a follower of Jesus, a proclaimer and liver of the Gospel. A blogger on this Scriptural text put it this way, “God always asks us to step out of our comfort-zone and act out of faith, not fear.
It’s what God expected of Noah when he told him to build an ark and collect animals. It’s what God expected of Abraham when he told him to leave his home…It’s what God expected of Mary when he sent the Angel Gabriel. It’s what God expected of Paul after knocking him off his horse.
Had any of those figures acted out of their fear (What will happen? Will we be safe? Will we have enough money? Will people still like me? Can I accomplish this?) instead of faith, the Bible would be a very different book.”
You see, the opposite of faith is not doubt, but rather fear. That is what this parable of the talents is also telling us. We are called to be people of action, not succumbing to the temptation to bury ourselves within these four walls and play it safe. The time for prudence and security is gone. We are called to be people of faith, not fear.
Too often we get all tangled up trying to interpret this parable. We focus on how to play the market and end up concluding that somehow it is all so grossly unfair. However, whenever we focus on the complexities of a parable, we are at best missing, and at worst avoiding, its point. The point of a parable is never complicated. It is always simple- maybe not easy, but always simple.
And so, this parable is not about good financial practices. Neither is it a celebration of a capitalist mentality.
Goodness gracious, if that were the case, it would be terribly misconstruing of the concept of the Kingdom, which Jesus makes clear is a world where financial calculations are abolished.
This parable is simply about how we are to live in God’s Kingdom – not prepare for God’s Kingdom which will come at some future point but rather live in God’s Kingdom – here, now, this day.
I went to a wonderful lecture series last weekend. It was the Fall Learning Event, presented by the Maine Conference of the United Church of Christ. Martha Morrison was there as well, and the speaker was theologian John Dominic Crosson. He talked a lot about what Jesus really meant by the Kingdom of God.
Though we talk about the Kingdom being among us - in our heart or inside of us, face it, it is far easier to think of the Kingdom of which Jesus spoke as coming somewhere down the line – at some future and glorious point in time when God will finally take the initiative to make all things new.
However, Crosson countered, what if Jesus was not talking about a future kingdom? What if Jesus presented a paradigm shift, a vision that shifted the tradition of first century Judaism?
What if Jesus was offering an alternative to what people believed, an alternative that still has the potential to rock us and shock us even down to the present day? “The Kingdom of God is among us,” he said. It is already here.
Yikes! Imagine that! What if it were true – that all these millennia we have been waiting for God to take some action when in reality God has been waiting for us.
What if the Kingdom is here, but is only visible if and when you and I as Christians collaborate with it. To put it another way, if we do nothing, nothing kingdom-like will happen. However, if we do something Christ-like, then all things are possible.
That is the point at which this parable of the talents dovetails so sweetly. God challenges us with the notion of a bottom line, an ROI, but for us as Christians, that ROI might better be translated “return on the incarnation”.
The coming of Christ is God’s spiritual investment in us – you and me - and it is an investment of immeasurable proportion. In fact, the fate of the world hinges upon that bottom line.
ROI – return on investment: We are called to invest our faith in Christ-like action. That is what the parable tells us. That is what the two favored slaves did in this Gospel story. They took risks. They did not fear failure. They were activists.
ROI – return on investment. I can not put it any better or more succinctly than Desmond Tutu did when he said, “God without you, won’t. You without God, can’t.”
And so I leave you with this question: What is your ROI, return on investment, return on the incarnation?
Rev. Nancy Foran is pastor of the Raymond Village Community Church in Raymond, Maine
www.rvccme.org
I began this sermon today with a prayer – something I do not ordinarily do. However, as I just confided to God, our quest to understand this Gospel lesson found in both Matthew and Luke deserves a prayer because this parable of the talents is indeed both perplexing and challenging.
Here we have a master, a wealthy landowner, who is on the road, going off – perhaps on an extended vacation, perhaps on a business trip – but anyway vacating his property for a significantly long period of time – so long that he felt compelled to leave his fortune divided unequally among three slaves.
As UCC pastor Hal Chorpenning notes: “Two of them are rabid proto-capitalists and one takes the safe route and takes care of what he’s got. Two are interested in growth and one is interested in security.”
To one of the slaves, the master gives five talents. Now, a talent is a first century unit of money, actually a lot of money. Five talents would be the equivalent of income for about 15 years of labor. In 21st century terms, say that you make $50,000 a year. That would be a cool $750,000.
To another slave, the master gave two talents – worth about what you could earn in 6 years. Using our $50,000 annual income as a guide, the worth of those two talents would be a whopping $300,000. And finally the master gave the third slave one talent, which would be like one year’s earnings – nothing to sneeze at either.
Now in the parable, the guy with five talents invests them handily and ends up with 10 talents (1.5 million bucks, using our equivalent) by the time the master returns.
“Awesome, good and faithful servant,” the master proclaims as he slaps him on the shoulder. “You understand the bottom line. You know how to get a decent ROI, return on investment.”
The two talent slave was equally successful because he also doubled what he had been given, ending up with 4 talents (or about $200,000).
“I am proud of you as well,” exclaimed the master. “You took risks and were not afraid of possible failure. You too understand the bottom line because you brought me a decent ROI, return on investment.”
By this time the one talent slave was a bit uneasy because, though he still had the one talent ($50,000), he did not have a penny more. “But hey,” he reminded himself. “I chose to play it safe, so I would not lose any money. With the economy as shaky as it has been, to me that was undeniably prudent.”
However, as you might have guessed, the master was not pleased. “You lazy you know what! You risk-averse little man! Because of your fear and lack of action, you have nothing to show. Your share goes to the millionaire over here. He deserves it, not you.”
“But wait!” protested the one talent slave. “Is there no place for caution, security, and the status quo in this world?”
When I was riding on the shuttle from the Tampa airport to get set for my breast cancer walk, I ended up talking with another walker from Louisville, Kentucky. She was telling me about her church and a wonderful program that the youth group leaders had initiated. It was called “Homeless for a Night” - and it was a variation on a lock-in, rock-a-thon, or giant slumber party at the church. The purpose of the event was to help these teenagers viscerally understand what being homeless felt like. Consequently, each one who participated was given a large cardboard box to set up in the church parking lot as his or her shelter for the night.
However, those participants who raised $50.00 in contributions (which would be donated to the local homeless shelter) were given a blanket in addition to their cardboard box. Those who raised $75.00 were given a blanket and a pillow. Those who raised $100.00 were given a blanket, a pillow, and a jacket to wear. The more these young Christians invested in the Gospel message and put it into action, the greater their ROI, return on investment.
Father Ernest Ezeogu tells a story about a man who was furious with God. "God," the angry man said, “I have been praying daily for three years that I should win the state lottery. You told us to ask and we shall receive. How come I never received all these three years I have been asking?"
Then he heard the voice of God, loud and clear. "My dear son," said God. "Please do me a favor. Buy a lottery ticket."
"If you wanna win, you got to play."
That is what this parable of the talents is telling us. Father Ezeogu goes on to say that “there are two kinds of people in our churches today: risk-takers and care-takers. The problem with care-takers is that they might show up at the undertaker's with little to show for the lives they have lived.”
There is an element of risk involved in asserting to be a Christian, a follower of Jesus, a proclaimer and liver of the Gospel. A blogger on this Scriptural text put it this way, “God always asks us to step out of our comfort-zone and act out of faith, not fear.
It’s what God expected of Noah when he told him to build an ark and collect animals. It’s what God expected of Abraham when he told him to leave his home…It’s what God expected of Mary when he sent the Angel Gabriel. It’s what God expected of Paul after knocking him off his horse.
Had any of those figures acted out of their fear (What will happen? Will we be safe? Will we have enough money? Will people still like me? Can I accomplish this?) instead of faith, the Bible would be a very different book.”
You see, the opposite of faith is not doubt, but rather fear. That is what this parable of the talents is also telling us. We are called to be people of action, not succumbing to the temptation to bury ourselves within these four walls and play it safe. The time for prudence and security is gone. We are called to be people of faith, not fear.
Too often we get all tangled up trying to interpret this parable. We focus on how to play the market and end up concluding that somehow it is all so grossly unfair. However, whenever we focus on the complexities of a parable, we are at best missing, and at worst avoiding, its point. The point of a parable is never complicated. It is always simple- maybe not easy, but always simple.
And so, this parable is not about good financial practices. Neither is it a celebration of a capitalist mentality.
Goodness gracious, if that were the case, it would be terribly misconstruing of the concept of the Kingdom, which Jesus makes clear is a world where financial calculations are abolished.
This parable is simply about how we are to live in God’s Kingdom – not prepare for God’s Kingdom which will come at some future point but rather live in God’s Kingdom – here, now, this day.
I went to a wonderful lecture series last weekend. It was the Fall Learning Event, presented by the Maine Conference of the United Church of Christ. Martha Morrison was there as well, and the speaker was theologian John Dominic Crosson. He talked a lot about what Jesus really meant by the Kingdom of God.
Though we talk about the Kingdom being among us - in our heart or inside of us, face it, it is far easier to think of the Kingdom of which Jesus spoke as coming somewhere down the line – at some future and glorious point in time when God will finally take the initiative to make all things new.
However, Crosson countered, what if Jesus was not talking about a future kingdom? What if Jesus presented a paradigm shift, a vision that shifted the tradition of first century Judaism?
What if Jesus was offering an alternative to what people believed, an alternative that still has the potential to rock us and shock us even down to the present day? “The Kingdom of God is among us,” he said. It is already here.
Yikes! Imagine that! What if it were true – that all these millennia we have been waiting for God to take some action when in reality God has been waiting for us.
What if the Kingdom is here, but is only visible if and when you and I as Christians collaborate with it. To put it another way, if we do nothing, nothing kingdom-like will happen. However, if we do something Christ-like, then all things are possible.
That is the point at which this parable of the talents dovetails so sweetly. God challenges us with the notion of a bottom line, an ROI, but for us as Christians, that ROI might better be translated “return on the incarnation”.
The coming of Christ is God’s spiritual investment in us – you and me - and it is an investment of immeasurable proportion. In fact, the fate of the world hinges upon that bottom line.
ROI – return on investment: We are called to invest our faith in Christ-like action. That is what the parable tells us. That is what the two favored slaves did in this Gospel story. They took risks. They did not fear failure. They were activists.
ROI – return on investment. I can not put it any better or more succinctly than Desmond Tutu did when he said, “God without you, won’t. You without God, can’t.”
And so I leave you with this question: What is your ROI, return on investment, return on the incarnation?
Rev. Nancy Foran is pastor of the Raymond Village Community Church in Raymond, Maine
www.rvccme.org
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)