Pound Wise

 

Roman Bronze As (pound) coin
Obverse - head of Janus. Reverse - Prow of a ship

You've likely heard the expression "penny wise and pound foolish" - meaning that you can pay attention to the details and still miss the big picture. This, of course, makes more sense when you understand that the penny and pound are units of money from the UK - not a mixture of money and weight as it first appears in the US. We are so used to decimal currency - 100 cents in a dollar - that it's easy to forget that currency hasn't always been like this. Before the radical attachment to multiples of ten, in both currency and metric measurement, usually the importance was in being able to break something into pieces of equal value.

Foiled Expectations

 

November 12, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Proverbs 9:1-6, 10-18; Matthew 25:1-11

“Jesus’ parables are like a wrapped gift – part of the joy is in carefully unwrapping it, and being surprised by the contents.” Those were the opening words of a children’s message given at the church I attended and served in Seminary, and they’ve stuck with me all these years later. There’s a number of things that stood out to me – first, the casual assumption that kids will carefully unwrap a gift. I definitely was one to tear the paper, throwing it aside, rather than carefully lifting the tape and folding up the paper to use again. Next, the idea that parables, these “short stories by Jesus” as AJ Levine puts it, that these needed unwrapping. How often have you heard someone say, “the plain text of the Bible says…” or something to that extent? If a parable needs to be unwrapped, then the “plain text” readers are looking at the paper, and ignoring what’s in the box. But, it’s also important to not only look at what’s in the box – the meaning – and ignore the wrapper entirely. You can’t summarize the parables easily, ignoring how they’re put together. The wrapping paper and box’s contents go together. Jesus’ parables are a master craft in setting up expectations, and then foiling them.

The parable of the Bridesmaids, for instance, begins in the middle of the story. Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven will be like ten young bridesmaids who took their lamps and went out to meet the groom.” Jesus is relying on folks knowing what a wedding ceremony was like. But our context for weddings is very different, and so it’s like we have an extra, unintentional wrapping. A gift bag, pretty in its own right, but it’s important to take the gift out of the bag.

For us, weddings are usually a ceremony in a church or other special place, followed by a reception nearby, and then the couple goes off on their own. We celebrate them, and they head off on their way to either a honeymoon, or at least a time of newlyweds, setting up their life together. But in Jesus’ day, the engaged couple would often live at the bride’s home, and the wedding would take place there, once the engagement was over. Then, the newlyweds would travel to the groom’s home, where his family and friends, and maybe even the entire village, would spend around a week with them, feasting and celebrating the wedding. It was a bit like the honeymoon came to the couple – and was combined with the reception!

The parable of the lamp-wielding women, then, starts in the middle of the story. The wedding has already happened, but the couple hasn’t yet arrived for the feasting. Jesus sets us amongst the expectant women – perhaps the family members, perhaps the friends – and involves us in their preparations to welcome the couple. Five of the women are wise, and five are foolish – and the only difference is the amount of oil they bring with them.

Now, let’s unwrap a corner of the parable – you’re probably expecting this to be about preparation. “Surely, Pastor Lucus, the foolish ones are foolish because they didn’t recognize that they didn’t have enough oil.” Certainly, that’s one way of reading the parable. Except – no one knew how long the journey would be for the couple to arrive. The way of the procession to the groom’s home was usually not by the most direct route. Even if they both lived in the same village, they would wind out of the cluster of homes, through the fields, over mountains, and then return. The journey was a road trip – an intensive way to get to know your new spouse in relative solitude. Plus, couples could get “distracted” on their journey, as newlyweds are wont to do.

That’s all to say – there was no way to know how much oil was needed. The expectation would be, perhaps, that you would take turns with the watch – saving the oil to light all the lamps when the couple arrived. But, our expectation of this is foiled, when in Jesus’ story, all ten light their lamps and fall asleep with their lamps burning. The wise and the foolish together – so that it is only when the groom calls out that the lamps are trimmed, oil re-added, and light shines forth again. At that point, however, the foolish ones have run out of oil – and so are told to go buy more from the marketplace.

This is another foiled expectation – that the wise ones, who have extra oil, do not share with the foolish ones. “But kindness! But generosity!” The only response to this is, “But relationship!” Let me explain. The foolish ones don’t have oil to keep their lamps burning. This doesn’t make them bad people, or even unworthy of being part of the party. Yet, they feel bad – and don’t want to be seen as foolish by the wedding party. Instead of greeting the couple, they run off to the market – and miss the arrival that they had been so excited for!

Now, the parable that Jesus tells has another reference in the wrapper that we should take a look at. By calling five of the women wise, and five of them foolish, Jesus is calling back to the tradition of the book of Proverbs, where Wisdom and Foolishness are personified as women. A brief note before diving in here: the first nine chapters of Proverbs are written as a letter from a father to a son, sometime around 1000 BCE. That means that, well, its discussions of a woman as “something to get” are fairly gross by our standards today, filled with a not-so-subtle “male gaze”. As it’s put in Proverbs 31, “Who can find a woman of valor? She is worth far more than rubies.” All that said, I still love these passages for all that they lift up about wisdom – and I love that, even in the patriarchal worldview, the ideal of wisdom was personified as a woman.

 So, in Proverbs 9, we encounter a direct comparison between Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly, a sort of Goofus-and-Gallant story. Lady Wisdom calls to you to feast at a big banquet, and she has prepared all the food, and even gone so far as to build the very house where the banquet will be celebrated! The food’s all ready, the doors are wide open, and even the wine has been pre-mixed with water, so that everyone who attends can feel warm inside without losing their head to drunkenness.

Meanwhile, Dame Folly looks to trap passersby into providing her the feast – she hasn’t prepared anything, but intends to get the attendees at her feast to steal the food and drink. The warning is that, on the surface, they look a lot alike – both Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly invite you in with the simple phrase, “Come in with me!” We likely expect Lady Wisdom to be like Glinda the Good, all shiny and bubbly, and Dame Folly to be Elphaba the Wicked, cackling in the corner with her green skin – but no – it’s not until you see how they act in private that the differences are evident.  

Too often, I think, we end up continuing along the path that either Wisdom or Folly have set before us without thinking. Is all that matters which you first heard call out to you? No – we are called to use judgment about the character of those calling us in, and leading us. It’s right to change course when you realize you’ve been duped by someone who sounded ok at first, but then is encouraging you to steal and cheat for their favor. Wisdom encourages those who attend her banquet to “begin to live and learn to use good judgment.” In contrast, Folly’s guests “are in the depths of the grave.”

So, let’s get back to the wrapped parable of the light bringers. As it stands, the light from the five torches is sufficient to greet the couple – there was clearly no need for five more! But if the wise ones had divided what they had equally, there wouldn’t have been enough light. I’m more and more drawn to the idea that the wise and foolish aren’t all that far apart here. Yes, the foolish ones might have noticed the extra oil – but they would have had enough if only they hadn’t left all ten lamps burning while going to sleep. Then, if they hadn’t run off, but had stayed, they could have been part of the reception – which is what the couple really wanted! In trying to cover up a mistake, they end up making an even bigger one.

Here, then, is the gift under all the wrapping – we all make mistakes. But what matters most is remaining connected to each other and to God, rather than trying to hide those mistakes. You see, throughout this parable, your expectation was for the oil to be the most important part – but your expectation for oil was foiled! Ultimately, whether you have a lot or a little, God is hoping to see you – to see you at the gate, to see you at the feast, to see you in the light your lamp burns, or that of your neighbor, if your lamp has run out.

The parable reminds us that life is a series of foiled expectations, where what we thought was most important may not be, and where our perceived mistakes can lead to unexpected revelations. As we journey together on the Way of Christ, let us embrace the imperfections of our own oil lamps – acknowledging that mistakes are not roadblocks, but opportunities to learn and grow in love for God and each other. May we always prioritize connection over perfection, finding our individual lights, whether flickering or blazing, are all welcome at the feast.

May God’s grace fill your lamp with the oil of faith. May the love of Jesus Christ prepare you for a more-than-life-long commitment to the Source of Love. And may the light of the Holy Spirit shine from you, guiding others to the joyous celebration of knowing God. Amen.

Saints Alive!

November 5, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Psalm 34:1-5, 8-9, 11-19; Revelation 7:9-17

As I was preparing for the sermon this week, I learned something interesting about the history of All Saints’ Day. We Presbyterians have only officially celebrated this special church holiday since 1932! That’s the year the first Book of Common Worship was published, linking the major Mainline denominations in the United States, and helping us follow the same church calendar and common lectionary. Episcopalians, Lutherans, Methodists, Reformed Church and Presbyterians, the UCC, the Disciples of Christ, the American Baptists, and many Unitarians, Mennonites, and even some Catholic churches agreed to work together, to follow the same calendar, and use the same schedule of readings in Worship. Some of the churches are more flexible about it than others, but at least there was unity in concept!

But why did Presbyterians not have an All Saints Day before then? The primary reason is, of course, that most Protestants had negative associations with the word “saints.” In the thirty years war and the religious league wars of the Reformation, “saint” became associated with “Papist Propaganda.” The Scots Confession, in particular, is filled with vitriol over the Catholic church and the connection to saints. And, in fairness to the Reformers, Protestant theology leaned heavily into the idea of the “Priesthood of all Believers” – that there was no need for an intermediary between your prayers and God. Instead of praying to the Saints and asking them to put a good word in with God, Protestants believe we can ask God directly – and confess to God directly, too.

But, while we have differing understanding of what a saint is, the concept of telling stories of God’s action in our lives is still strongly with us. Indeed, for us, a saint is not a separate, “almost-perfect” person to emulate – but someone who is trying their best to follow God’s way. This is how Protestants think about saints today – just as we have the “priesthood of all believers”, to some extent, we have the “sainthood of all believers”, too. Technically, the term sanctification means the lifelong process of a believer making choices to live more in the Way that Jesus has taught us.

In the Moravian church - which is one of the earliest Protestant denominations, predating even Luther – members are encouraged to write spiritual autobiographies, noting especially places where God’s presence was felt in their lives. Libraries full of these autobiographies are available for members and non-members alike to read in Moravian communities throughout the world. These are still a valuable resource to people to be inspired by the lives, choices, and actions of those who have come before them. In many ways, these stories of divine connection serve as windows into the “saints” of the church – the ordinary people, whom have encountered the divine acting in their lives. We’re all, in a way, saints alive!

We can also see this in ways that we teach people to follow the faith, whether as children or as adults. Psalm 38, for example, gives us wonderful advice, wherever we are in our faith journey. The Psalmist encourages us to follow God’s way, by blessing and praising God, honoring God and being radiant with joy in God’s presence. How does one honor God? By telling the truth, turning from evil, seeking peace and going after it. Praise God, honor God by always being truthful, turn from evil, and you will be radiant with God’s joy. It’s a simple premise – and, truthfully, sanctification sounds simple on the surface. Once you have committed to follow God’s Way, then follow it.

Of course, nothing is as easy as it seems. But God promises to be there through it all – God was there before you even committed to start on the path, and God will still be there holding you when your baptism is complete and you transition to heaven. The Psalmist even says, “the righteous have many problems, but the Lord delivers them from every one.” No matter what you face in life, God is there with you. And when your journey is complete, you will be with God, delivered from even the memory of evil, pain, and suffering!

Even when things are at their worst, the Psalmist reminds us to “taste and see that the Lord is good – Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in God!” Christians connect this with the communion table, of course – tasting the goodness of God through the grace-filled sacrament. Beyond this connection, though, is the idea that when you most need to take refuge with God, God will provide for you. At the most basic needs, God provides. Food, drink and shelter are wrapped in God’s love for you – with every taste you experience, you can recognize God’s presence. To extend the metaphor, every bite of food is alive with God’s presence. Every shelter from the wind and rain is alive with God’s presence. Every breath you take is alive with God’s presence. To recognize this is to lean into being a saint alive!

Of course, the saints alive today will transition to the saints eternal and triumphant, as has always happened. John the Revelator experienced something of this, through his dreams and visions during his exile on Patmos:

I looked, and there was a great crowd that no one could number. They were from every nation, tribe, people, and language. They were standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands.

John notes that the people come from everywhere, knowing in the divine vision what would be impossible to know at a glance. They are beyond counting – and are varied in feature and language while still being unified in their symbols of victory, the white robe and palm branch. It testifies simultaneously to the universal scope of God’s love and salvation and to God’s ultimate victory over pain, evil, and violence. It shows John – and through his writing, us – that God’s plan of redemption extends far beyond whatever boundaries we might impose on it. It dismantles notions of exclusivity, and leads us to embrace a vision of God’s family – of the saints alive and saints beyond – who transcend cultural, linguistic, and ethnic barriers. We saints alive are blessed to be a part of this boundless reach of God’s grace, with all those who have gone before us.

John’s revelation also includes a difficult vision – that the white robes worn by the multitude are made white by being “washed in the blood of the Lamb.” There are songs and songs that use this rather disturbing description for all sorts of purposes, but I do not plan to do so today. Instead, I want to note two things – first, that the process of sanctification does not begin with anything we do or choose. Instead, it is God’s own actions of salvation, of Jesus’ sacrificial love for all the world, that makes it possible for us to be saints alive and saints beyond life. The “blood of the Lamb” is the paradox of life and death – but ultimately, it is in God’s initiating action in which we are saved. This is justification – the start of the sanctification process. We are made right with God through God’s own action, and not through our own. Yet, we still take the time to wash our robes carefully – the profound spiritual cleansing and renewal through our faith journey. We are called to respond to God’s grace and love with gratitude, and doing our best to follow in God’s Holy Way.

The saints we remember on this All Saints Day are people like us, with flaws, imperfections, and vulnerabilities. But they opened themselves to God’s transformational love. They embraced their calling with humility and trust, allowing God’s grace to work through them. And through learning their stories, we are likewise called to share God’s love in our lives.

How do we keep acting as saints alive? By being vessels of God’s love, extending that love through a hand of welcome and acceptance to all. By speaking truth and turning from evil. By telling our stories – and showing how God has been at work in our lives, as we take refuge in God when things are at their worst, and share the best of God’s radiant joy in everything we do.

 As we reflect on the saints who have gone before us, and those who stand among us today, it is clear that God’s love is active in the power of unity in diversity. Just as the many denominations found common ground in the Book of Common Worship, despite their differing understandings of what being a saint alive means to them, we are united in our belief that God’s transformative love is at the heart of our faith.

After all, we see God’s love transforming us in different ways, yet with the same core. Unity in God’s love does not require uniformity in our experiences. Let us continue to tell our unique stores of God’s work in our lives, for they are a testament to the richness of God’s love. May we be inspired by the unity we find in God and the diversity we cherish in one another. As we taste and see that the Lord is good, may we continue to be transformed by God’s love. May we follow in Christ’s Way, as saints alive. And may the Spirit guide us always to remember the lives of those who have gone before us, as saints beyond, until we are united again in heaven and the new life to come! Amen.