The Promise of Restoration

 

September 24, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Psalm 145:1-9, Joel 2:23-32

You’ve probably heard the old saying, “for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost.” It’s an admonition to pay attention to small things, since they have a tendency to affect bigger and bigger things. If you’re not familiar with it, I’ll share the whole saying with you, with this preface: “for want of” is an old linguistic construction that means “because [something] was lacking” or “because [something] was missing.” This version is one of the variations in Ben Franklin’s “Poor Richard’s Almanack”, though versions have been found written in French and German as far back as the 13^th Century.

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.[1]

I very much appreciate the way this saying illustrates the need to care for small things in order to affect bigger things – even though I struggle with this myself. As a person with Attention Deficit Disorder, I can either focus on the very large or the very small, but trying to hold both means losing both. It’s a good, humbling reminder, though, that I can’t do everything on my own. Fortunately, none of us have to do everything alone – for God is always with us, encouraging us to support each other.

In 2020, a number of small things went wrong to create a great disaster in the world. At the beginning of the year, a BBC/Netflix documentary crew was in Ethiopia to film the beginnings of the year’s gregarious locust swarm. A combination of warm and wet weather had let the swarms grow more than usual – and the 2019 civil war in Yemen meant that there were fewer containment efforts for the swarm. When the pandemic hit, the documentary crew left their cameras and drones, and coordinated with local Kenyans to get this footage of the beginnings of the locust swarm, on the march and beginning its flight. [2]

[BBC/NETFLIX - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAI6W2TOkh4]

This super-swarm of billions of locusts is, fortunately, rare. It’s the largest recorded in over 70 years, and finally ended due to rainstorms in the Himalayas weighing down the locusts and preventing them from continuing beyond the mountains. But seeing these insects changes how we hear the book of the prophet Joel these thousands of years later. Joel, it seems, is preaching in the aftermath of a locust swarm that has devastated Israel after the return from exile. This terrible event has destroyed entire fields of grain and grapes, meaning that there is not enough food and wine for the people, nor enough even to make sacrifices of food at the temple. The people of the land are justifiably worried – how will they survive? How will they survive as a family? As a nation? Will God forgive them for not being able to make the sacrifices at the temple?

Yet, after reminding the people of the terrible destruction they have faced, Joel brings good news: God promises to restore all that has been lost and more.

“Rejoice, and be glad… for God has given you the early rain in its season and sent down showers for you, both early and late, as previously. The granaries are full of grain, the vats spill over with new wine and oil. I will make up for you the years the swarming locust consumed – the jumper, the finisher, the chewer – my mighty force that I sent against you. You will have all the food you need to be satisfied...”[3]

 God’s action, in seeing the destruction and pain of the people, is not to turn God’s back on the people – but instead to reach out and give exactly what is needed to restore them. Yes, the loss of crops is terrible – but God sends the early rains to replace them quickly. When God says, “I repay you for the years the swarming locust consumed,” this is language that in Hebrew is used to settle debts; it’s like a divine insurance payout.

Now, when Joel refers to the pouring out of the spirit, he’s making a reference to other parts of the story. In Ezekiel 39, God says, “I will not hide my face anymore from them, when I pour out my Spirit upon the house of Israel.” And even earlier, in Numbers 11, Moses says, “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, that the Lord would put his Spirit on them!” Joel leans into these thoughts, noting that all who worship God have direct access to the Spirit.

But, Joel says, times won’t always be good. God’s vision and dreams of the Spirit show that things are looming on the horizon. Armies. Blood. Fire. But despite this devastation, Joel promises that there is safety, subtly referencing Proverbs 18:10: “Adonai’s name is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and become inaccessible.”

Joel, then, shows that God’s promises of restoration hold in times of bounty and difficulty. In fact, it could be thought of as a positive version of the “For want of a Nail” saying:

God makes promises of restoration
   God pours out the rains at the right times for the crops to grow
   The crops grow, and provide food to the people
   The people eat their fill and praise God
God acts on the promise of restoration
    God pours out the Spirit on all humanity
   The people grow in vision and dreams
   The dreams fill the people with hope in the midst of chaos
   The people praise God and survive
God continues to act on the promise of restoration

This promise of restoration that Joel makes is, of course, picked up in the book of Acts, when Peter refers to it taking place again in connection with the events of Pentecost. Peter explicitly extends the pouring out of Spirit on all who worship God. You see, we are all connected with God. We strengthen that connection any time we worship, any time we pray, any time we listen for discernment, any time we help, any time we hope. For God wants us to care for each other, and in so doing, praise God through the living of our lives! This is the praise of the psalmist: “They will speak of the power of your awesome deeds; I will declare your great accomplishments… The Lord is merciful and compassionate, very patient, and full of faithful love.”[4]

We know today that locust swarms happen because of rain at the wrong time and place. But rain also is the way that swarms end – when the wings of the locusts are heavy with rain, they cannot continue. Locusts eat the grain of now, but fertilize the ground as they go, providing a boost to the crops when they are replanted and regrow. God pours out the promise of restoration even in the midst of the great swarm – and God pours out the promise of restoration into each and every one of us, causing us to dream dreams of hope, and envision visions of community. Let us always keep our hearts open to God’s guidance – so that we can know when a nail is needed, and see that God has already provided it.

May God pour out the Spirit on you, that you may dream dreams of hopeful possibility. May God restore to you, in great and small, that which you need to survive. And may Christ lead you always, reminding you that you are loved by God and by God’s children, now and always. Amen.

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[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/For_Want_of_a_Nail

[2] The documentary team recovered their equipment and filmed the end of the locust flight in India – an incredible feat given all the shakeups in the world that year!

[3] Joel 2:23-26, selected, James Crenshaw trans.

[4] Psalm 145:6, 8

Graceful Possibilities

September 17, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Exodus 14:19-31, Matthew 18:21-35

Forgiveness is hard. Even though we regularly pray, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors” – we struggle with forgiving debts, both fiscal and emotional. Actually – you may be aware that there are two versions of the Lord’s Prayer in the Bible, in Matthew and Luke’s Gospels. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus uses the same word twice - “Opheilema” – a Greek word meaning “a failure to pay that which is due” – a debt. Luke uses “Opheilema” and “Hamartia” in the same sentence. Hamartia is literally an arrow shot that misses the mark, figuratively the tragic flaw of human character – and is the word we usually translate as “sin.” Luke’s version, then, states, “Forgive us our sin in the same way we forgive our debtors.”

  If you haven’t thought about what the Lord’s Prayer is actually saying in a while, that may be a big moment. In the prayer, we are asking God to forgive us in the same manner, or to the same extent, that we forgive others. That puts so much weight on our actions – I know I’ve thought about this passage before with worry – “What am I still holding on to that I should let go of? Will God forgive me if I haven’t forgiven everything?” When Peter asks Jesus, “How often will my sibling sin against me, and I will forgive him? Up to seven times?” it’s like he’s asking the same question – how often do I need to forgive someone else?

Jesus, of course, responds with the famous, “not just seven times, but seventy and seven times.” – whether he means 77 or 490 times, the purpose is the same – it’s not going to be an easily tracked number. You’re supposed to forgive, not to reach an arbitrary standard, but just simply forgive.

Then Jesus tells a story. A parable – a box of meaning to be unlocked again and again. In the story, a man owes a king over 10,000 talents of silver – an impossible debt to pay, as that would take over 50,000 years of work at minimum wage to even earn that stated amount. The king calls in his marker, the man begs for patience, and the king mercifully forgives the debt – releasing the man from the threat of slavery for his entire family. Newly released of his impossible debt, the man shakes down someone who owes him 100 days wages – and receives the same response, have mercy, and I will pay it in time. Instead of forgiving this much less amount of debt, the man has his debtor thrown into prison. The king hears about this, and applies the same logic to the man, throwing him into prison permanently.

I don’t know about you, but on the face of it, this story is terrifying to me. At first blush, I feel like the man was incredibly lucky to have that debt forgiven in the first place. But then I think – just how did such a debt come to be? Is it possible that the whole point of the king forgiving the debt was to say that there was never such a debt in the first place? That we begin with grace, a recognition that yes, we will mess up, we will miss the mark – but that God wants us to try again and again, and not give up.

Jewish New Testament scholar AJ Levine reminds us that Jesus uses the word “debt” deliberately: “It goes directly to the pocketbook;” she writes, “It says, don’t hold a debt. If someone needs, you give. The call is for economic justice.”[1]

Let’s go back to the Lord’s Prayer for a moment. What if God’s grace isn’t contingent on our forgiveness? What if, instead, we are asking God to help us forgive in the same way that we have been forgiven? “Forgive us our debts, as you help us forgive our debtors.” What if, instead of excoriating ourselves for the ways we have missed the mark, we recognize the grace-filled possibilities of forgiving others and trying again and again?

One of the earliest stories of God’s grace is from the book of Exodus. We know the story of Moses: “Let my people go!” he shouts to Pharoah again and again, and Pharoah doesn’t relent. Finally, Pharoah agrees, once God’s power to affect even him cannot be denied – but once the Hebrew people are underway, Pharoah reneges on his promise, and sends his armies to force the people to return to slavery and oppression. The Egyptian armies catch up with the Hebrew people in a terribly restricted place – backed against a sea, with no visible crossing. During the night, God’s very presence burns between the groups, keeping the Hebrew people safe as the winds blow in, separating the waters and creating a path of dry land. The Hebrew people walked safely across, when the pre-dawn light reveals them, and the Egyptians start to chase them.

God interferes directly, turning the wheels of the chariots and making their progress difficult. Some of the Egyptians recognize that God is present, and retreat, calling for others to do the same. But those who continued on, determined to enslave and oppress, to follow the evil orders of their superior – they end up caught in the floods as the waters rush back to their usual place. After that, the Pharoah sends no more armies after the Hebrew people.

At first glance, this hardly seems a story of grace. God’s actions seem more like vengeance or retribution than grace. Reading strictly, we might at first say, shouldn’t the Hebrew people have forgiven the Egyptians for breaking their word, and meekly come back with the armies? But of course not. As Debie Thomas writes, “Forgiveness isn’t pretending that an offense doesn’t matter… or assuming that because God is merciful, God isn’t grieved and angered by injustice.”[2] Forgiveness in this story is seen in fleeing rather than fighting. In trusting God to lead the people beyond the need for violence, and to continue to protect them.

God also acts to protect the Egyptians who listen. Turning the wheels to prevent the chariots from continuing causes at least some of the Egyptians to turn around, to recognize that they are acting in the wrong. The only ones who perish are those who foolishly follow Pharoah’s orders, even when it is clear that those orders are evil and against God’s will.

God sees graceful possibilities in a situation that seems to be impossible. Note that here, too, there is no immediate healing or reconciliation. The Egyptians that survived by running away do not make things right with the Hebrew people. Instead, they go their separate ways. Forgiveness here isn’t the end of the journey – but the beginning. At many points during the wilderness wandering, the Hebrew people want to turn around and return to Egypt – but they gradually recognize that God is leading them in a better direction. Forgiveness – Grace – is not quick and easy. It is a process that takes time, but gradually – oh so gradually! – brings an end to the weight of hatred and bitterness that prevents us from following God’s way.

When Jesus tells us to forgive seventy and seven times, he’s telling us to look for graceful possibilities. To bring forward love, instead of resentment. I love how Debie Thomas puts this, too: “If I’m consumed with my own pain, if I’ve made injury my identity, if I insist on weaponizing my well-deserved anger in every interaction I have with people who hurt me, then I’m drinking poison, and the poison will kill me long before it does anything to my abusers. To choose forgiveness is to release myself from the tyranny of my bitterness… To cast my hunger for healing deep into Christ’s heart, because healing belongs to him, and he’s the only one powerful enough to secure it.”

We respond to God’s grace – amazing, awesome, awe-inspiring grace – by being free to offer grace to others. By seeing new, graceful possibilities for restorative justice – a way forward that God provides to heal both oppressed and oppressor.

Nadia Bolz-Weber, a Lutheran pastor in Denver, describes mistreatment and sin as a chain that binds us unwillingly. But her words about breaking that chain are incredible: “Maybe retaliation or holding onto anger about the harm done to me doesn’t actually combat evil. Maybe it feeds it. Because in the end, if we’re not careful, we can actually absorb the worst of our enemy, and at some level, start to become them. So what if forgiveness, rather than being a… way to say, ‘It’s okay,’ is actually a way of wielding bolt-cutters and snapping the chains that link us? What if it’s saying, ‘What you did was so not okay, I refuse to be connected to it anymore.’?”[3]

So, my friends – what if you forgave the person that irritates you so much? Or the person that owes you a debt that cannot be repaid? Or even one that can? What if all of us, together, agree to forgive each other. What graceful possibilities would emerge then?

May you be forgiven and filled with God’s grace. May you forgive, and be filled with Christ’s love. May you see how forgiveness can change the world, and see the Holy Spirit at work, breaking the chains of evil, and bringing God’s good plan to fruition. Amen.

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[1] The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus

[2] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2748-unpacking-forgiveness

[3] https://sojo.net/articles/sermon-forgiveness

Overcome Evil with Good

 September 3, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby

Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel

Matthew 16:21-28, Romans 12:9-21

After spending the last week with COVID, I hope you’ll forgive me for recording this sermon, rather than delivering it in person. Early in the week, my voice did that thing where, due to the build up of fluids in my head and throat, it dropped about two and a half octaves for a while. I rarely sound like myself when that happens – instead, becoming Basso Profundo for a day or two. It’s kind of fun, but I’ve had loved ones not recognize my voice – and that can be disturbing. Still, I was reminded that the last time it happened, it was just before I went to seminary – I was working for a country music radio station in Detroit at a grand event – the Downtown Hoedown. As part of my job, I was expected to escort country musicians through Campus Martius to reach their staging area. The crowds were thick, and though my voice was deeper as a result of spending several days outside in heat, haze, and smoke, it didn’t carry as far. I found myself standing up differently – straighter, making my presence known physically instead of verbally. I’m not normally an intimidating guy, but somehow, the deep but quiet voice meant that people did, in fact get out of my way, and the way was clear for the musicians behind to follow.

It was effective, I suppose – so much so that my boss pulled me aside, and reassigned me. Apparently, I was intimidating guests to the event. No matter how effective and efficient it was to clear a path that way, in the end, it was making the experience worse for guests, and thus I had inadvertently become a stumbling block to the whole thing.

It should be no surprise, then, that I identify with Peter in Gospel of Matthew – he leaps in, full of enthusiasm, and is praised for it. Jesus gives him the nickname “Rocky” – “Cephas” in Aramaic, “Petros” in Greek – for being the first to leap to the conclusion that Jesus is the Messiah. Jesus says, “I tell you that you are Rocky. And I’ll build my church on this rock. The gates of the underworld won’t be able to stand against it.”[1] Very high praise indeed! I imagine Simon “the Rock” BarJonah felt like he was on top of the world, looking down on creation[2]! That’s when Jesus starts to talk about the traumatic and difficult future he’s facing as the Messiah, and Peter jumps right in again – “God forbid it, Lord! This won’t happen to you!”

Jesus tells Ol’ Stoneface, “Get behind me, Adversary. You are a rock that could make me stumble, for you are not thinking God’s thoughts, but human thoughts.”[3]

From being named by Jesus as the rock on which the church will be built – to being called the Adversary. All in the course of 5 verses. Now, Peter’s crashed down hard, leaving a metaphorical hole in the sand. He’s got a few options: he could dig the hole deeper, he could try to climb out on his own, or he could stay in the hole for a moment and wait to see what Jesus says next.

Fortunately, Peter chooses that moment to actually stay quiet and listen to what Jesus has to say: “All who want to come after me must say no to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. All who want to save their lives will lose them. But all who lose their lives because of me will find them.”[4]

In this specific context – after Jesus acknowledges Simon Peter’s messianic statement, and then rebukes Peter for asking God to forbid Jesus’ death and resurrection – Jesus is making the point that Jesus is not taking the easy path, and if you’re following him, you, too, will not be taking the easy path. It would be easy to puff yourself up as a follower of Jesus – “Look at how righteous I am! Look at how holy!” but it is much harder to follow in the way that he leads us. A way of humility. Of careful care for others. Of giving your life to make the lives of many others better. Not of bold swagger, of self-aggrandizement, of prosperity and ease.

Jesus’ way is the way of love. Paul attempts to dive into the specifics of what this love looks like at many points in his letters – most strikingly in I Corinthians 13, but also in his letter to the Romans. “Love should be shown without pretending,” Paul writes, “Love each other like the members of your family. Don’t hesitate to be enthusiastic – be on fire in the Spirit as you serve the Lord!... Consider everyone as equal, and don’t think that you’re better than anyone else.”[5]

You see, in the days of the early church, the world had fallen victim to an illness of spirit – an illness of pride. It’s an illness that continues to affect us today, wherein one person may look at another, and say, “you are beneath my notice,” or, “I am better than you are.” Conversely, some people might look at another and say, “You are much better than I am, so I can do anything to you and yours to get even.” This illness goes against what God planned for us – to be loved in unique ways, but all loved nevertheless. The treatment for such an illness is not a greater separation, hatred, even war – the treatment is instead what all of us need when we are sick. Rest. Nourishment. Care.

Yes, there are times when physical isolation is necessary. But the goal isn’t to be isolated permanently – but instead to be connected spiritually even when physically separated, until the illness is past, and we can be reunited again! When Paul writes, “Don’t pay back anyone for their evil actions with evil actions of your own… but defeat evil with good,”[6] this is exactly what he’s getting at. Heaping evil upon evil just increases evil – the only way to overcome it truly is to bring goodness where there is animosity.

Just as we nurture our bodies back to health, we respond to evil with practical steps. First, we can forgive each other, offering grace without payment, just as God has offered us forgiving grace. In this way, we overcome the evil of resentment – helping to see each other as truly beloved fellow children of God. Next, we can seek reconciliation – promoting healing and peace in the community of people we know directly. This is like bringing Gatorade or noodle soup to loved ones – healing in both body and spirit. Lastly, we can continue to advocate for justice through peaceful means, just as Christ has taught us. This is a way of both improving the health of the wider community, and helps to inoculate against the illness of pride returning again. Using your voice to advocate for those whom society is determined not to listen to – that’s a powerful medicine of healing goodness.

Through it all, we pray for one another – not telling God what to do, who to save, and so on, but asking God to hold us together. In prayer, we listen for God’s call, seek the healing and forgiveness that we need, and practice offering that same healing and forgiveness to others in our lives. Sometimes, we need to step back, and realize that we’re looking at others as being better or worse than ourselves – and we need to hear God calling us back to take up the cross and follow Jesus. We may need a time of rest and recovery – or we may need to offer that time to others with grace and love. Sometimes, that insight may come from others, too – be sure to listen when others tell you that you may be taking things too far. And don’t be afraid to reach out to others in this way, too.

My friends, may you be filled with the grace of God, the love of Christ, and the healing of the Holy Spirit, overcoming evil with good in your life and in the world. Amen.

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[1] Matt 16:18

[2] Inadvertent Carpenters reference.

[3] Matt 16:22-23

[4] Matt 16:24-25

[5] Rom 12 (selected)

[6] Rom 12:17, 21

Welcome Disruption

Welcome Disruption

Psalm 67, Isaiah 56:1-8

We Presbyterians tend to be fans of order. Our constitution is in two major parts – the Book of Confessions and the Book of Order. Both Pastor Elana and I chose to memorize the same verse before being examined by our separate committees on preparation for ministry as we were in the process of being ordained. That verse, I Corinthians 14:40, states: “Let all things be done decently and in good order.” Contemporary Presbys have a tendency to want to study issues carefully, to send things to committee, and to change slowly and surely, according to the Spirit of God, as expressed through the church as a whole. Our history lends us a distrust of authority – after all, “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” and so we institute checks and balances to try to keep things decent and orderly.

This is, I think, a good thing. We generally are insulated from wild swings of a governance pendulum, and find a fairly steady path before us, illuminated by the light of God. That’s not to say we’ve gotten everything right – because, of course, we too are subject to misinterpretations and have fallen short of God’s intent. But we adapt and change and grow in faith and in love. And, using our slow and steady pace, we also influence the world around us to take care in the same way.

But, there are times when that slow and steady pace is disrupted. There are circumstances in the world that call for immediate action – or at least, swift action. When wildfires burn through communities, we send help. When someone is sick or injured, we ask for healing and help get them to medical facilities. In those instances when swift action is needed, we let the principles of the church guide our actions, and make modifications as needed. For a non-controversial example, when the pandemic hit and churches suddenly found themselves unable to meet in person, it was realized that, technically, the Book of Order doesn’t specify that meetings can be held remotely. Churches that met via zoom were in a grey area – but the meetings were important enough to happen, even without being in direct line with the Book of Order. Now, the Book of Order has been updated to explicitly allow remote meetings, but it takes time for those changes to be made official.

On the bulletin cover is an image of a crosswalk sign – placed against a corner of a building. Signs like this are setup where there is need for disruption – when traffic needs to stop for people, in an orderly sharing of the road and resources. But we often build walls instead of bridges, privileging drivers over pedestrians, even if unconsciously. That’s where disruption is most needed.

Jesus is famous for showing how disruption is a part of God’s path for us, too. His parables, for instance, contain references to setting aside personal comfort to help others (Good Samaritan), to welcome home those who have made mistakes, but have changed hearts (Prodigal Son), to loving those who persecute you, to give to others that all may be sheltered, fed, and loved, and so on. Jesus’ suggestion of disruption to the status quo is certainly radical – but it follows in the grand tradition of the Prophets, all of whom showed that God’s preference lies towards disruption of comfort and order if it means helping people – especially those whom society has pushed to the outside.

When the Judahites were allowed to return home following the exile to Babylon, they were a people who had suffered oppression and disruption to the way they had always done things. There was a strong movement to try to return to traditional ways, and a big part of that was in a rejection of anything “foreign.” Even related peoples, like the Samaritans, the Edomites, and the Arameans, were considered “foreign” in the time of return. The identity of the people of Judah became more and more tied up in the notions of “us vs them.” As Professor Amy Ogden puts it, “It’s easy to see how a vulnerable people who had been attacked and conquered would be suspicious about welcoming outsiders. Such welcome could be seen as a betrayal of their own struggle, their sense of community identity and integrity.”

This is important, because when Isaiah says, “I will bring [foreigners] to my holy mountain of Jerusalem, and will fill them with joy in my house of prayer,” it is very much not what the people are expecting to hear. It is a disruption – in many ways, an unwelcome disruption. Now, when you look at what God is saying through Isaiah, it’s clear that God is welcoming those who follow God’s ways, not those who still follow foreign gods or idols. But, Isaiah’s prophecy is a reminder that the Israelites have a tradition of welcoming converts and caring for people that is more important to their identity than they want to acknowledge.

God extends the welcome beyond the foreigner, however. Many of you remember that God’s first commandment, in the beginning of Genesis, is to all creation: “be fruitful and multiply.” Much of the identity of people in Israel and Judah was tied into this idea – that they were part of families whose names were written in the holy scripture, and that their families would number more than the stars in the sky and the grains of sand in all the beaches of the world. But there were people who did not have children – either from choice or from accident. During the exile, many Judahites were made into Eunuchs at the whim of the king – and during the many diasporas, the smaller exiles that preceded and followed, the same was true of many others.

Many of these people felt that they were no longer worthy of God’s love, since they were not able to contribute to the growth of the people of God. But God spoke through Isaiah, saying, “I will bless those eunuchs who keep my Sabbath, who choose to do what is right and commit their lives to me. I will give them, within the walls of my house, a memorial and a name far greater than sons and daughters could give. For the name I give them is an everlasting one. It will never disappear!”

God promises not only to welcome those who were outside the norm for their society, but to bless them, to love them, and to remember them. All they have to do is to not desecrate the Sabbath, and live righteous lives. It’s the same contract with anyone in Israel, in case you’re wondering – follow the commandments, and live lives of loving each other. When you make mistakes, seek to make it right, and ask forgiveness both from those you’ve wronged and from God.

Many of us today, hearing “keep the Sabbath holy” hear it as an additional burden. We remember the Blue Laws, with everything shut down on Sunday, and the extra burden that placed on families. But, for the people in Isaiah’s day, keeping the Sabbath meant a return to the rest that they did not have in exile! Babylon would not have allowed for communal days of rest, especially not for all levels of society. This is the joy of the Sabbath commandment – God knows that we humans need to rest.

Sabbath should be a welcome disruption to the order of our week – a chance to put aside work and enjoy the company of friends and family. God rested on the seventh day of creation – and if God can rest, then so can we and so should we. God rested, not to improve God’s productivity, or to think of new creative ideas – but because it is important to take time to love and enjoy creation. To take time to study what is, to notice little details, and to get the rest that is so lacking in the world today.

Just as Sabbath is a welcome disruption, so too should people who are different be a welcome disruption. “God welcomes all,” we sing – and we should be aware that “all” is a very large bunch of folks! It’s not just neighbors who recently moved in, but the cries of children who are exposed to hymns for the first time, and those who society has rejected for any reason. People of all origins, orientations, and abilities.

For God’s welcome is inclusive and expansive. God’s disruption of our status quo helps us to connect with people all over the earth, and all over our communities. To sing, with the psalmist and all who have sung the psalms through the years: “Let the people celebrate and shout with joy because you judge the nations fairly and guide all nations on the earth! Let the people thank you, God!”

For God’s welcome is a grace and a blessing extended to us all. Let us likewise extend grace and welcome to others. When we need a way forward, let us remember to pray – for we are a part of the house of prayer for all people. When we fail to act in righteous ways, let us ask forgiveness, make things as right as we can, and then worship and rest together. When society has built barriers, let us build crosswalks. When our own barriers exclude, let us tear them down and show God’s love. Amen.

Leftovers

Leftovers

II Kings 4:42-44, Matthew 14:13-21

(YouTube)

In our world today, it is hard to avoid food – it’s everywhere! Ads show up on TV and radio, billboards proudly pronounce the latest fast food fad, and even here at church, there’s always coffee and treats on a Sunday morning. Before the pandemic, the church hosted a pastor from Malawi in Africa, and he said something that has stuck with me all these years: he said, “You American Presbyterians, you don’t just practice fellowship – you practice swallowship!” Food is such a part of how we interact with others, too – when meeting someone new, we often “go for coffee.” Lunch meetings aren’t uncommon either – especially as video meetings allow us to turn off the camera and mic and still enjoy a treat.

All that being said, however, it is not that way for everyone. There are parts even of Tulsa that are considered “food deserts” – that is, areas where more than a third of the population cannot easily access fresh groceries.(1) While Elana and I were living in Corona, New Mexico, the town grocery store closed – leaving the nearest small store with anything fresh about 45 miles away, and the nearest supermarket about 90 miles away. If we hadn’t had access to transportation, we wouldn’t have been able to live in our home. In the first years after moving to Tulsa, we found ourselves buying waaay too much at the grocery store, just because we were so trained by experiences in New Mexico – we always needed to have extra on hand, to prevent a 4 hour grocery run. Now, we trust in the availability of food, but during the height of the pandemic, it was hard to not revert to those old habits.

In the ancient world, there were no such things as supermarkets, of course. In rural areas of Galilee and Judah, people would grow some of their own food, fish and ranch, and trade with others. In urban areas, food was brought in from the countryside and sold in markets by individual vendors, a lot like farmers markets today. Jews, though, had a cultural difference from most of the ancient world – they usually tried to keep kosher, making sure that if they were in an area where they weren’t sure they’d have access to kosher food and preparation methods, that they’d bring their own. So, most Jews would carry a woven bag or basket whenever they’d leave home, making sure that they had food. Bread, fish and maybe even cheese might be carried this way, wrapped in beeswax-impregnated cloth to keep it clean and dry.

Now, let’s turn to the story from Matthew’s gospel, where Jesus gets the bad news that his cousin, John the Baptist, has been executed by Herod. He, perhaps grieving, sets out in a boat with his disciples to find a place to be alone for a while. But, at this point in his ministry, he is well known as a healer and teacher, and so people from all around the lake track him down, wandering in on foot to where Jesus is trying to pray by himself. It’s a bit like a celebrity sighting, mixed with hope for healing! Jesus has compassion for them, and proceeds to heal them for many hours, as more and more people stream in. By the evening, the people are hungry – and all the disciples have are two fish and five loaves of bread. They might even have caught the two fish on the way across the lake!

Fish and bread are interesting fare for another reason – it is evidence of the prevalence of Greek ways of thinking. You see, traditional food in the Hellenized or Greek-speaking world always consisted of three parts – sitos, opson, and oinos. Oinos is wine – every complete meal included wine in the ancient world. Sitos is bread, the main dish, the base of every complete meal. But bread on its own is boring, and needs opson – relish. The most common opson was, of course, fish. In the Greek culture, people would scorn those who ate too much relish with their bread, or even would eat without bread at all. By including both bread and fish, Matthew is pointing out that the parts of a complete meal were there, even if nowhere enough for the 5000 men, plus women and children – as many as 20,000 people gathered there!

Nevertheless, Jesus tells the people to relax and recline – as though they’re at a fancy feast, a symposion or as though this wilderness area is formal as the home on Passover. Jesus blesses the meagre food before him, and the disciples distribute it among the people. This distribution method – with elders and deacons taking the place of disciples – is how the early church worked to distribute communion. Only later did the practice begin of approaching the table.

Now, as for the specific blessing that Jesus used – it may have been a blessing like the one still used by Jews today.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eluheynu melech ha’olam, ha-motzi lechem min ha’aretz.

(Blessed are you, Lord our God, Sovereign of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.) This blessing is based on Psalm 104 – but I love that it includes the line, “brings forth bread from the earth.” Bread doesn’t grow on trees – but ultimately, God is responsible for all food that we eat, from the growing to the preparation, to the consumption of it.

This story, and the subsequent miracle of feeding of 4000, echo the Elisha story from II Kings – in both cases, bread forms the basis of feeding a group of people, and when everyone has eaten, God has miraculously brought forth such an abundance of food that there are leftovers for all. In the feeding of the 5000 (+women and children), the disciples gather twelve baskets of leftovers – basically, each disciple’s food pouch or basket is more full than when they started! Jesus feeds everyone gathered – not just the disciples, not just the men, but the women and children too – and there are leftovers aplenty. Matthew directly mentions the women and children, even though Mark left them out. In some ways, they may feel like “leftovers” themselves in the Biblical account. Yet, not to Jesus – Jesus provides for everyone, from the poorest person who wore their feet out walking around the lake to the wealthiest townsfolk who wandered out to figure out what was happening.

The traditional place of this miracle is today called Tabgha,(2) and a Byzantine church was built at a small rocky ledge that became known as Mensa Christi – the Table of Christ. In front of that ledge was built a beautiful mosaic representing this miracle of the feeding of the 5000 – the very mosaic present on your bulletin cover! The mosaic was uncovered in the 1800s after centuries of being buried – and today is a pilgrimage site for groups who like to share a meal in memory of the meal that Jesus provided thousands of years ago. Even without travelling to Tabgha, we know that every time we eat a meal together as a church, we are celebrating the memory of Jesus’ miracles.

And communion, too, is a celebration of that miracle! When we celebrate communion today, imagine yourself reclining on a lakeshore with people you’ve never met, sharing food that was blessed by Jesus. And that miracle continues, as we provide food through the community garden, and through the blessing box, and through welcoming people into the “swallowship” practiced here at Trinity. In so doing, we remind people and ourselves that we are not “leftovers” but members of God’s beloved family, extended throughout time and space. And there will be enough and more than enough to feed us all!

May God multiply your food – enough to share with all you meet. May the Holy Spirit fill you with compassion and love, that you share what you have with total strangers as well as family and friends. May Christ walk with you, blessing you with abundant grace and hope, even when you find yourself in places of despair. Amen!

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(1) The technical definition is, in urban areas, those in each half-kilometer square who are more than a mile from the nearest source of fresh food. For rural areas, it’s the same half-kilometer square, but who are more than ten miles from the nearest source of fresh food. This is set by the USDA Economic Research Service. https://www.ers.usda.gov/data-products/food-access-research-atlas/

(2) An Arabic pronunciation of Tapego, a shortened form of Heptapegon, the Greek translation of Ein Sheva – Seven Rivers

Love and Prayer

My dad, Chuck Keppel, recently found a collection of my Grandfather's sermons from the late 1960s. I'm hoping to transcribe and upload them - and this *cough* rather dusty blog is a great place to do so.

Love and Prayer

October 29, 1967
Rev. Lucian T. Keppel

"If a man loves me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." ~John 14:23
Text: Romans 12:9-21

I am very happy to be back in the school situation, observing the direction or trend of scientific thought in our social sciences today, but my years of independent study of Christ have helped. Thirty years ago the atheistic tendencies of Freud met very open or ready minds that were filled to the ears with "straight-laced" Victorian ideas of what was right, proper, and ethical, so far as thought, word, and deed in public were concerned. Then the excessive hedonistic forces of humanism and Dewey rocked our homes with their "permissive" approach to child raising - a "fad" from which we are suffering now in the uninhibited, frequently violent outbursts against social practices with which many young adults - individually or in collective groups - disagree - even to the point of rioting.

Of interest to note concerning many of these followers, is the fact that they tend to be - at times - very religious - from a Judean point of view. I mean, they will affirm a strong belief in a God of justice, who, through them, is realizing the justice in which civil rights was conceived. This God of Justice - the pre-Christian authoritarian God - demands that men be ready and willing to fight to see that "justice" reigns. Of course, many wars, in the name of this God, have been fought to determine what, really, constituted justice.

But now there is emerging through, or out of, the neo-Freudian, existentialistic, personalistic  group of social scientists a definite trend of thought, which, while not backing Jesus' thinking about the reality of a Spiritual God who is all knowing, all powerful, and all wise, at least recognizes a spiritual essence in man as over against his strictly materialistic make up. For Freud the idea, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" was the whole story of man. For a psychologist like Eric Fromm (one of these "emerging" social scientists), the Christian God transformed the jealous, despotic God of the early Ten Commandments into a God that ceases to be considered a super person, but becomes the symbol of the principle of unity behind the manifold phenomena that makes up our lives - the vision of the flower which will grow from the spiritual seed within man. God has become now the symbol of principles - of truth, justice, and love. That is, God is truth; God is justice; but God is also basically love - which raises the level of significance and value of the other two.

These scientists did not go much beyond this. God, these men felt, could not have a name - something like God's answer to Moses' plea for a name, when he said, "my name is nameless; I am that I am!"

Recently, however, (perhaps as an outgrowth of this modern skepticism which so many of us are watching with considerable anxiety), there is emerging a school - or rather a trend - in the direction of virtually Jesus' own beliefs. These have not focused as yet into a set pattern of theories or hypotheses, but their writings reflect a full recognition of the spiritual essence of man that runs parallel to, interacts with, but is separate from man's physiological being - and the source of this "spiritual" unity of the "soul" of man with the "soul" of his maker is love. Now they recognize love as God - (but not the God of any Christian sect) - in its highest sense - Spirit!

Communication with this God-Spirit by man is possible; but must be learned with much greater intelligence and determined practice than the large, large majority of so-called Christians is showing or is inclined to show today. Jesus' teachings and demonstrations were keyed to a theme He frequently mentioned, that the Good News of His relationship with God was tied up in forgiveness, personal communication, grace, faith, and humility. All individual prayers must reflect such convictions; but even these convictions could not of themselves produce the inner peace He promised to all who really followed Him. Basic to all prayers - and indeed to all response to life's stimuli was a new power Jesus alone introduced and demonstrated - LOVE, in its third dimension: not love for wife or child; not love for relatives or friends; but love for neighbors - all neighbors, even those who are enemies. Such an unselfish love must also include an equal share of love for the self, in which God has also placed a portion of His own essence, just as He did in all other human beings.

Here, then, is the initial basis for personal prayer to a personal God whose actual form is Love's Spirit. How foolish it would be to treat such a spirit as if it were part of a "super man." Such a Spirit-essence of intelligence can reach us- or we can reach it - only through the intelligence God gave us - the same, intrinsic, human soul that no scientist has been able to explain away on a materialistic basis, though many have tried to do so.

Now, since the foundation of our souls is the same as that of which God is compounded, i.e. love, no communication (no attempted prayer) can bear fruit or be effective unless it springs out of - or originates in - this same spirit substance which we call brotherly or holy love. Holy in this sense, means separate or apart from the human characteristics that have limited love to such a low, sensual level in so many lives today. 

From our discussion one can see that developing our life reactions and our communications through the guidance of prayer, grounded in holy or godly love, is not quite as simple as running up to our earthly father and asking him childishly for something we want to have. Yet, the very fact that we can see in a spiritual power a force that - even in our own experiences as a church group - has been able to rise above natural law and produce unquestioned miracles - this fact, I say, should be sufficient to make us sense at least part of love's nature, and of our ability to participate in it. Surely it will be at least as intelligent as we, a condition that calls for humility from us; it will demand a voluntary degree of giving (without strings) on our part, since it was similarly given to us purely out of "grace + love"; it will further unify our behavior toward this God as well as toward all our fellow man to be grounded in a love that must inculcate the elements common to all forms of love mentioned before. These are care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge. When these elements are coupled with the traits of forgiveness, personal communication, grace, faith, and humility, we have an atmosphere that is charged with an intriguing way of life and thought. This means, care is shown by us as the active concern for the life and growth of that which we love. The responsibility we must assume today is often meant to denote something imposed upon us from the outside. But responsibility - in its true sense, is an entirely voluntary act; it is any response to the needs expressed or unexpressed of another human being - to be responsible when we pray in love means to be ready to respond!

Respect is an element, a thesis component of love, that prevents the deterioration of responsibility into domination and possessiveness. Respect is not fear and awe; it denotes in accordance with the rest of the the word (respeciere = to look at) the ability to see a person as he is, to be aware of his unique individuality... Respect thus implies the absence of exploitation.

Knowledge involves still more practice with respect and presupposes careful thought before love's power can be fully unleashed. To respect a person is not possible without knowing him; care and responsibility would be blind if they were not guided by knowledge. Knowledge could be empty if it were not motivated by concern... The knowledge which is an aspect of love is one which... penetrates to the core... I may know that a person is angry, worried, (or more deeply) that he feels lonely, worried, is anxious, or feels guilty. Prayer, of course, is a familiar presence which coupled with faith will bring about those miracles that we so often seek. 

Thus, prayer and love are mutual exercises that are basic to spiritual identity with this power we call Love. Frequent use and practice of these to communicate with God's essence is extremely rewarding and challenging. In its intelligent-love-centered form it can produce tremendous results. Please join us all in regular practice.

The revealing statement by our Founder will add new interest and dimensions to our prayers and prepare us for the answers that the spiritual power of God can give us. Let's listen to the reading of CJK's Love and Prayer:

"Prayer is Love's language toward God. No truer or more profound conception of the highest type of prayer can possibly be held. Every question as to the actual meaning and value of prayer finds its ultimate answer in this understanding of it. We pray because we love. When we love we cannot help but pray. We do not first ask: "Well, what is the use of it anyway? To what extent can I expect a direct and definite answer to my petitions? Can, indeed, the God of Law and order reach in and change the direction or results of the unfailing processes of nature, the law of cause and effect?" No, we do not first ask that. We may, indeed, never understand that very clearly at all. But we do pray because we love!

We love God for what we know of Him. All that is beautiful, noble, pure, honest, gentle, loving, righteous, eternal -- that is God. Throughout the ages men's highest conception of deity progressively trended in this direction. Then came Jesus. And God became not only more marvelously holy and beautiful, loving, forgiving, restoring, but He became more intimately and gloriously personal. Father, very near, very patient, very holy, very generous, very mighty in restoring and empowering love -- that God became through the life and ministry of Jesus. "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father."
That Father men could love, and do love, whenever He is so revealed to them. And when they see Him thus in the gentle glory of His personal Fatherhood, they pray. Love must become vocal. Love cannot remain silent. The highest faculties of speech are reserved for the expressions of purest Love. 

But have you thought of it, that while loving makes prayer possible, so also does praying make Love grow, for it is love's expression. All our emotions strengthen as we give them outlet.

Try this in your own experience."

(Rev. Charles John Keppel)

Rebuilding Neighbors

Ordinary 15

July 10, 2016

Ancho + Corona

Isaiah 58 (selected) (NLT)

What good is fasting when you keep on fighting and quarreling? This kind of fasting will never get you anywhere with me…. No, this is the kind of fasting I want: free those who are wrongly imprisoned; lighten the burden of those who work for you. Let the oppressed go free, and remove the chains that bind people. Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help….

Then your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon. [Adonai] will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and restoring your strength. You will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever-flowing spring. Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your cities. Then you will be known as a re-builder of walls and a restorer of homes.

Luke 10: 25-37 (CEB)

Connecting with the Spirit (Rebirth 4)

May 1, 2016

Ancho + Corona

 Scripture: John 5:1-9a  and Acts 8: 4-25 

On the way back from our latest Presbytery meeting - this time in Las Cruces - Elana and I passed a billboard advertising a church in Alamogordo. Perhaps you've seen this sign, or one like it - it read, "Relationship - not religion." Relationship - not religion. Elana and I both pulled a face, and of course, kept driving. But you see, for so many people, even the word "religion" is a pejorative, a word used to describe and dismiss the spiritual practices of others. Now, I'm not dismissing that a relationship with God is important - far from it - but I think we need to talk about what religion is, and why it is NOT a bad word. Religion comes originally from Latin - Religare - which meant to bind together. Later, it became Religio - obligation, bond, or reverent observation, and then in Middle English, Religion, meaning "life under vows". One could have a faith of one's own - but in religion, you were bound to a code that you either chose for yourself, or that you felt God had led you to. There's a fine point here: you choose to be bound by the vows you make, and are not forced into the choice. Yes, it did occasionally happen that people were forced by their family or circumstance into the monastery or convent - but usually, it was something chosen for yourself. A spiritual practice of restriction - a lot like what people today may do during the season of Lent.

Maybe you've heard the phrase, "Spiritual, but not Religious". The sense in this is that one can be connected to the Spirit of God without being bound into one religious track. And true - the Spirit of God does work in and through people that we find surprising choices, but this phrase too dismisses religion as something that holds you back. Yet, if that's the case, why would anyone choose voluntarily to be religious? To join in the dance of the universe, you must give up everything that is not the right step at the right time. Or, as the Renaissance artist Michelangelo is reported to have said, you must remove everything from the block of marble that is not the beautiful sculpture inside.

John Philip Newell reminds us of the 20th Century monk, Thomas Merton, a man who gave up a loving relationship to take vows as a Trappist monk in Kentucky. He chose to take on additional religious activities in order to become closer with God. Merton believed that we live in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God shines through it all the time - in people and in things and in nature and in events. But we don't see it. We need to remember to see. We need to seek not to know ABOUT God - but to seek to KNOW God. That direct, personal experience.

For everyone, that direct personal experience of God is found through spiritual practice. Prayer is a spiritual practice. So is Yoga. So is walking through the woods, or along the fence line, and appreciating God's hand in the world. So is the acceptance of additional burdens - like the vows of monks and nuns - or the choice not to curse, or to remove your hat in church - or to put on a hat in worship! Spiritual practice is everywhere - and it is the root of religion. To claim that you can have a relationship without religion is nonsensical in the extreme. Think of relationships you have had - you have to have a relationship with a specific person, not with a person in the abstract. As such, it involves voluntary restrictions of one sort or another, hopefully to the benefit of you both. It is the same with the relationship with God - you take on voluntary obligations to strengthen your ties with the Divine - and it ought to spill over into strengthening your ties with your fellow human beings.

The scriptures are full of this sense of religion as voluntary restriction. From the Nazarite vows, like Samson took, to the Pharisees choosing movement restrictions, and even the disciples leaving everything behind to follow Jesus, it can seem like religion is all about giving up something. But - it’s a choice of giving something up that was distracting you from seeing the Divine in all things. In our passage from John, we learn of a man who, for thirty-eight years, sat by the pool at Bethesda (or Bethzetha) in Jerusalem, waiting for it to bubble and stir - and try to be the first in the water. Day after day, for 38 years, trying to make it in before anyone else, and yet being unable to make it, due to his paralyzed legs. Jesus comes up to him, and asks him simply, "Do you want to be healed?" Does he want to be healed? For 38 years, he's been trying! And he's nearly given up hope - he says, "I cannot walk, and if I am going to make it into the pool first, I need someone to carry me. Someone beats me there every time." For him, it has become a matter of life-long faith that one day, someone will carry him in to the water. His spiritual practice is to wait for that time to come - actively wait, asking passers by to help him in. And finally, he's asked the right person - not to help him into the water, but to heal him, his actual goal! Jesus doesn't lay hands on him, doesn't do anything other than tell him to stand up, pick up his mat, and walk. And just like that, 38 years of waiting by the pool's edge come to an end. He doesn't stop to ask who Jesus is, he just picks up his mat, and walks away - probably filled with joy!

In our Acts passage, similarly, we learn of a man named Simon who has converted to believing in Jesus. He was a magician, and people thought he was possibly the Messiah, given all the things he could make happen. Oddly, we know of Simon from three different texts of the first Century - he's an actual historical figure of note! But though he had begun to believe in Jesus after seeing Philip perform miracles, he didn't quite get it - he didn't quite give up those things that were separating him from seeing God at work in the world. So when John and Peter show up, and people start responding to the Holy Spirit at work in them, Simon thinks that this is a trick like those he used to do. So, he asks to buy the knowledge of passing on the Holy Spirit through laying-on-of-hands from Peter and John - and Peter tells him off. "May your money tarnish and rot away, you who think to buy God's power! Give up this way of thinking - repent of your wickedness - and pray for God's forgiveness, and that God transforms your heart." For this, we get the concept of Simony - trying to buy church office or spiritual power. Simon needed to give up his conception of how the world worked in order to become close enough with the Divine to see the Holy Spirit at work in the world. Simon had a relationship with Philip - and through Philip, Jesus - but hadn't quite gotten the religion part together. Simon wants to lead in the dance with God and the universe, but hadn't learned the steps. Hadn't listened to the rhythm. Yet, after this admonishment, he asks Peter to pray on his behalf, that he might change his ways - Simon wants to change! The text leaves him there, but I think the implication is that Simon worked to change his heart, and acted out of love - and joined the dance with God.

So, how do you connect with the Spirit of God? Most Presbyterians, when asked this question, will respond at least partially with "Prayer". Now, in our Directory for Worship - part of the constitution of the PC(USA), prayer is defined as "a conscious opening of the self to God, who initiates communion and communication with us. Prayer is receiving and responding, speaking and listening, waiting and acting in the presence of God. In prayer we respond to God in adoration, in thanksgiving, in confession, in supplication, in intercession, and in self-dedication." Or, as Brother Roland of the Community of the Transfiguration puts it: "There are two types of prayer: One is the dozing kitten prayer, purring by the warm fire of God's presence. The other is the yappy dog prayer, scratching at the door of heaven, imploring God's help in our lives." We focus a LOT of effort on the yappy-dog prayer - trying to choose the right words, thinking that if we just pull the right phrase from the air, God will do what we want. Yet, if we focus more on the dozing kitten prayer - "listening in silence, an expectancy" as Merton puts it - we might be able to hear where God is leading us to what we need.

"Spiritual practice," John Philip Newell says, "is not about self-important seriousness. Rather, it is about doing something that... is both less serious and more serious - a Cosmic Dance in which we discover that we do not have to take the lead. We cannot take the lead, for we do not know how to. But we can give ourselves to the Dance. We can let go with abandon to it, to be carried by its endless rhythm in a relationship that is deeper than our consciousness can comprehend. But what is most serious about the dance is that each one of us is needed. There is a place in the dance of the universe that no one else can take but each of us. "

Religion is about learning the steps to the Cosmic Dance - giving up of the things that distract us from the rhythm, that prevent us from seeing God's shining light in the world. To connect with the Spirit, we need to listen more - to seek the rhythm, and move with God and each other.

May God bless your dancing, that you may bless others. May Christ lead your steps, that you may not stumble. May your spirit be caught up in the Holy Spirit, until you see nothing but the light of God, hear nothing but the rhythm of Christ, and feel nothing but the love of the Holy Spirit. Amen.