Martin's Dance Date-- Reformation Day 2016

Reformation Day: Marin's Dance Date

Martin brought his date, Grace, to the dance

posting a long note on the door to announce

his dear choice was the one who really counts,

rejecting mother’s choices who had no chance

competing with his wonderful beauteous prize.

His mother went into high dudgeon, snapping

disapproval; “Boy, you’ll not catch me napping!

Pretty she is, but my heritage you’ll not despise.

I’ll teach you who will do thinking around heres.

Worth spilling ink and blood to show who’s right

I will join against you in battle with all my might!”

So began theological foodfights for so many years.

Families were ripped asunder, relations tossed,

Today, family lovingly repairs the centuries lost.

The Pharisee's Prayer

A Reflection and Poem for XXIII Pentecost (Proper 25)      All Saints’, Southern Shores, NC

October 23, 2016                                                                    Thomas E. Wilson, Rector

Joel 2:23-32            2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18                Luke 18:9-14                       Psalm 65

The Pharisee’s Prayer

In today’s lesson from Luke, Jesus tells a parable about two men going to pray. Remember, a parable is different than a fable. A fable tells a fairly straightforward story leading to a moral, a one-sentence evident axiom or bromide reflecting the wisdom of the culture in which it is told. A parable on the other hand is a story which has a twist at the end which challenges the wisdom of the culture in which it is told. If this story were a fable, then we would congratulate the Pharisee who follows all the rules of the society and is a credit to his upbringing.  While we might feel good that the tax collector is suffering remorse for the kind of life he is leading and for what he is doing, we would condemn the tax collector for being a traitor to the country and expect God to join in our condemnation and hope for a suitable punishment for this evildoer.

When I was growing up, I was raised on movies as fables which had to follow a strict moral code in order to be released and in which bad people may, for the purposes of plot, seem to have had the upper hand in the early development of the story but were ultimately punished gleefully for the audience’s enjoyment and moral uplift.  The good people in the movie, while maybe suffering for the purposes of plot, came out well at the end. It was possible that the bad person could repent, suffer the consequences of his/her actions by being reduced socially and economically, and having a change of heart before dying, but it was morally unsatisfying. This was part of the Hollywood interpretation of the Judeo-Christian understanding of how God works - morality triumphs - which was part of the Motion Picture Production Code instituted by Will H. Hays of the Motion Picture Association of American and used for censoring movies from 1930-1968.

It does seem unfair that, in this story where the Pharisee brags about how he tithes a tenth of his wealth, he is not congratulated by Jesus - especially during this time when we are in a stewardship drive. I remember when I was early out of seminary I was so worried about meeting a budget that I pushed tithing to the top of my virtue list. When I was passing judgment on my fellow church members when it was obvious by the total figures that tithers were few and far between, my wise Priest in the church that I attended said to me that I sounded like I was on the road to becoming a good Pharisee. I, not understanding the context at the time, said I wished I had more Pharisees than we seemed to have in our church when I was Senior Warden. It was only later when I developed some humility, after I had failed in so many ways and could see clearly my own sins, chiefly my sin of pride, that I realized that his observation of my becoming a Pharisee was not a compliment.  My pride kept me from loving and from seeing my obvious brokenness.  Jesus thought tithing was important, but it had to be placed in the larger context of a loving relationship with God and neighbor. Love was the supreme aspect of life with God, not the various forms of religion.  

The prophet Joel in the Hebrew Testament lesson for today speaks of the time after the locust plague had devoured all the crops, devastating the land.  The land is full of failure, yet he finds strength and hope in trusting that God would redeem all things, as he had seen in his vision from God. When he could trust that all could be redeemed, then he didn’t have to be the center of his own universe.  The problem with being the center of the universe is that one’s arms get sore trying to elbow out God.

The Psalmist sings, echoing Joel, that as we bring our failures to God, the Divine can redeem all things and, bringing joy out of our brokenness, “To you that hear prayer shall all flesh come, * because of their transgressions.  Our sins are stronger than we are, * but you will blot them out. . . . Those who dwell at the ends of the earth will tremble at your marvelous signs; * you make the dawn and the dusk to sing for joy.”

Failure is one of the best things to happen to us. The Book of Common Prayer has the Prayer for Young Persons (BCP p. 828) that asks “Help them to see failure, not as a measure of their worth, but as a chance for a new start.” Narcissists blame other people for failures and project their fear of failure on to other people calling them “losers”, just like the Pharisee in today’s Gospel lesson does out of  his own fear. Braggarts brag and blamers blame because of their own fears. I say these words not because I am immune from being a fear-filled braggart and blamer, but because I know my shadow only too well.

Richard Rohr in one of this week’s meditations reflected:

Unless the male is led into journeys of powerlessness, he will invariably misuse power. He becomes a loose cannon in the social fabric, even dangerous to the family, always seeking his own dominative power and advancement to the neglect of others. The human inclination to narcissism has to be exposed, humbled, and used for good purposes. Jesus clearly taught the twelve disciples about surrender, the necessity of suffering, humility, servant leadership, and nonviolence. They resisted him every time, and so he finally had to make the journey himself and tell them, “Follow me!” But Christians have preferred to hear something Jesus never said: “Worship me.” Worship of Jesus is rather harmless and risk-free; following Jesus changes everything.

The Apostle Paul, of whom the Epistle lesson for today speaks, was one of those men misusing his power in persecuting the Christians out of the “human inclination to narcissism”, spending all of his energy putting other people down in order to improve his own fragile self-image. He had been, by his own admission, the best of the Pharisees, but without love he was, as he wrote to the Corinthians, “only a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal”, who even if he had given away all he had so that he could boast but had not love, he gained nothing. He found out what it was like to be knocked off his high horse on the road to Damascus and become broken; only then, being broken, could he begin to really follow Jesus as he found that the Lord had given him strength to change, and as today’s letter states, “to have fought the good fight, finished the race, kept the faith.”

Paul is at the end of his life having these thoughts, finding that his greatest strength had come from outside his own self, and for that he gave thanks. My hope is that at the end of my days, and at the end of each day, I will have the grace to give thanks for fighting the good fight, finishing the race, and keeping the faith.

The Pharisee’s Prayer

“Dang and doggies, I am really good

That God must thank his lucky stars

For having me around raising bars,

Showing others do what they should.

I am so glad I am not that there clown

Who seems sniveling with the shame

Of being one who gets to take blame

For all of bad things going on in town.”

“Well, that one just echoed off the wall

Bouncing back and forth as way to hide

That fear darkly coming on by my side

So that I might seem to tower over all.

Coming, residing with me as guest

Trembling that I’ll n’er be blessed.”

Barbars Dunn Rhoads

Barbara Dunn Rhoads
February20, 1933-October 1, 2016

A Reflection and Poem in Thanksgiving for the Life of Barbara Rhoads

On the Occasion of A Celebration of her Life

All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Southern Shores, NC

October 15, 2016

We come together today for at least 8 resaons:

We come because we loved Barbara Rhoads.

We come because we are trying to make sense of the fact that this good person, who we saw as a precious gift, who made our lives richer by knowing her, should be seemingly unfairly taken from our daily life by sickness and by death.

We come to see if there is anything we can do to “fix” this situation so we will be able to keep on going in a world that doesn't always make sense.

We come to give thanks for having Barbara in our lives.

We come trying to find strength to meet the days ahead as we face our own inevitable death.

We come as a faith community to show our trust in a power greater than ourselves.

We come to hear the words and sing some songs that comfort us.

We come to lay her to rest and give her to God's love.

We come because we want to cling to a hope that life continues on another level after death on this plane.

In essence we come to accept what we have to, to change what we can, and to be and have peace. We are saying with word and deed a prayer which is also known as the Serenity Prayer:  “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference,  just for today.”

This is a prayer that I used to pray with a group of people in a drug and alcohol rehab facility where I volunteered for several years as the co-leader of a group on the 2^nd and 3^rd steps of the 12 steps of recovery. The 12 step program is a translation of Basic Christianity 101 for addicted people who have been blamed, stigmatized, and hurt instead of helped by churches. The Gospel story from John for today has Martha as the representative of the church. You may remember how she had lit into her sister Mary for being a part of the problem when Martha was taking on so much work doing so much worrying. Jesus told her that she worried about too many things. Of course, Martha, being a good church-person, didn’t pay a bit of attention.

Addiction is not a problem to be solved; it is a condition in which addicts have to learn a new way of living. We humans, when encountering things that we have to “deal with”, feel most comfortable by asking two question: 1) Who is to blame? and 2) What is the solution?  In our fear of having to accept what we cannot change, we keep going back to the old ways that did not work before. The definition of insanity is to keep doing things that didn’t work and expect a different result. Dealing with changing ourselves is always a Spiritual journey.

Martha has a problem; her brother Lazarus is dead. Martha, unable to deal with the hurt of her brother’s death, something she could not control, asks the two favorite questions:  first, who is to blame? Martha answers her own question and says that Jesus was to blame because if he had been there Lazarus would not have died.  She moves quickly from blame for the problem to the second question and demands a solution. She tells him that since he had finally showed up, late, but at least did show up, he could get to work and fix things. 

He then tells her that there is a deeper dimension to life than solving problems. Dying is not a problem to be fixed; it is a condition of life to be entered into without seeing death as the end, “the final curtain,” but with faith, seeing death as a door into a deeper level of existence.

One of my favorite songs is a song that misses that mark. I read an article  that said a survey in England of 300 undertakers and 2000 other adults revealed that the most favorite song at funerals is the 1969  Frank Sinatra pop song, I Did It My Way. The article called it “a tribute to lifelong narcissism”. If you have never, heard it the first verse goes:

And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain.
I've lived a life that's full.
I've traveled each and every highway;
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

I love the song especially when I am in one of my narcissistic moods where the world revolves around me, and in my life, I’ve sung it often. One of the things I found working with addicts is that they would quote from that song a lot as they tried to begin the first step - to which I or the other clinician would say, “So how’s that working for you?” Yeah, they had done it their way, but recovery was learning a new way of living. The further along in their recovery, the less they quoted from it. The final verses give a clue: 

To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
"Oh no, oh no not me,
I did it my way".
For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way!
Yes, it was my way.

To accept death as part of life is to live “the words of one who kneels”. Our healing from our fears of death begins when we start to kneel in prayer and accept the things we cannot change and change the things we can and have the wisdom to know the difference. We begin by sharing our memories and giving thanks for this wonderful complex person known as Barbara Rhoads.

Barbara was not a pushover; she was tough, and she could give as well as accept. Woe to anyone who crossed her for she would let you know in a way that made sure you would not need air conditioning in the near future when you were around her. Yet in the middle of that toughness, there was within her a life of caring for others and something greater than herself. All the while she made sure that she carried herself with an elegance that came from an internal style, but she carried herself standing strong enough as if she could handle a collision with a Mack truck. She was an Army wife for years and that is a tough job. Having moved often she knew how to make others welcome and herself at home. She got a plaque from the Army when Dave retired, giving her a lot of the credit for Dave’s effectiveness. She emptied herself out caring for her husband and family. She worked hard in this church, giving a lot of her precious time. My favorite memories of her were when she would see me and smile that killer floodlight smile and ask, “Now what do we do to help these people, or what do you need?” She was there to help, to make the world a better place, but not by demanding that she had to have it her way. When she said she would pray for someone in trouble, I knew she would do so, and not just by words but by action. She knew how to kneel before her God, having awe in God’s creation and being thankful for the strength of Jesus walking with her. She had the ability to see all of creation as holy, loving the deserts of the southwest and the waters of the Outer Banks equally. She lived as if the holy was in the space between people as a way of living on earth as it is in heaven. Heaven was not a foreign place to her - she experienced glimpses in her life

To her family, we give you thanks that you shared her with us in this church. We gather together to give thanks to God and wish her well on the next part of this journey, following her Lord into the deeper life.

On the morning after she died, I was trying to come to grips with her death and went over to the now silent house.  Dave, the Colonel, having finished his exhausting but loving tour of duty being  her caretaker, was now sound asleep because the woman he loved and I admired had found peace. This is the poem I wrote while I was waiting to go back later in that morning.

Barbara Rhoads

Arriving in early morning at dwelling,

finding silently empty of a caregiver,

ringing bell echoing off the furniture,

returning to car, thinking while driving,

remembering Barbara walking in room

smiling as she saw me. Then was light

coming flooding to everything in sight,

banishing for moments that felt doom

hiding in thoughts, but filling in grace,

unearning, unexpected like her smiles

stretching far beyond limiting of miles,

rising, rising to finish a long earth race,

hoping our days are always long enough

forgetting never her smiles in times rough.

The Unjust Justice's Prayer

A Reflection and Poem for XXII Pentecost (proper 24)        All Saints’, Southern Shores, NC

October 16, 2016                                                                    Thomas E. Wilson, Rector

Jeremiah 31:27-34         Psalm 119:97-104          2 Timothy 3:14-4:5  Luke 18:1-8

The Unjust Justice's Prayer

“Please grant me Justice for my children.”

“No I have a life to lead with my own agendas.”

Scholars suggest that the Gospels were written over a period of time. The first layer was the memory of those who knew Jesus during his earthly ministry, and they remembered certain sayings they heard and recounted stories of events that they had witnessed. The witnesses to the earthly ministry expect Jesus to return, and they pray “Maranatha- Come soon Lord Jesus”. These faithful witnesses start to die off, and the community starts to write down what they remember. The Gospel of Mark is probably the first document, followed later by Luke and Matthew and then even later, John. They took the sayings and the stories and put them into a narratives structure based on a particular theme that their community needed to hear. Luke’s Gospel has an emphasis on making a difference within the community as outward and visible signs of changed lives following Jesus across boundaries of class, race, language and politics. The Lucan community will also write a follow-up to that Gospel with the Book of Acts in which they say that the works, or the acts of Jesus, are continuing in the spiritual communities of the  Acts, or works, of the Apostles; the Holy Spirit is still alive and well.

On the surface, that last message of encouragement is badly needed as the faith communities face economic and political difficulties. They know more than a little something about the official refusal to provide justice in the corrupt Roman Empire, and the suggestion is we have no hope of moving the empire, but we can ask for help from the Divine Power greater than ourselves to get through the tough times.

“Please grant me Justice for my children.”

“No I have a life to lead with my own agendas.”

But let’s look at this story that Jesus tells in another way. Remember Jesus tells us stories about God and what God looks like in our lives. Instead of seeing God as the Judge and us as the poor widow, let’s turn that upside down - the way Jesus tends to turn the world upside down – and let’s see ourselves as the Judge and the poor widow as God. Suppose God is the one saying night and day to us, “Please grant me Justice for my children.” While we are the ones who keep saying: “No I have a life to lead with my own agendas.”

We tend to want to see God as the judge up in heaven with all with the power, but what Jesus does is show us the true nature of God.  He shows us God as vulnerable, the one who gives us free will to be selfish, while suggesting that God is, in God's very nature, the Trinity, always in relationship - not in judgment but in relationship, as we are called to be in relationship with all of God's children.

“Please grant me Justice for my children.”

“No I have a life to lead with my own agendas.”

We tend to think this is a story about the persistence of prayer and how we should keep talking to God. I do think it is about persistence of prayer, but God is the prayer who is speaking to us, persistently in the hopes that we might wake up and listen. We spend a lot of time talking at God, but prayer is the talking with God, which means that we need to stop our chatter and listen.

I think of the times I spend most of my prayer time in talking, and it is usually spent asking God to fix something, like a magic servant who needs to be talked into giving me what I want. That is my own narcissism, thinking I should get whatever I want, sort of like a spoiled child who whines and fusses until the Big Daddy caves in.  Over my lifetime, I have found that the best prayers are those when my day or life is out of control and I ask how it might be redeemed rather than fixed. Bad things happen to me and those I love, but how can I change to find a way of blessing; how can I find a way to bring healing out of the wounds?

“Please grant me Justice for all my children.”

“No I have a life to lead with my own agendas.”

Micah, the 8^th century BC prophet said, “What does the Lord require of you; to do justice, to love mercy and walk humbly with your God.” In today's lesson, the 6^th Century prophet Jeremiah says to the people going into exile, whose lives are way out of their control, that he sees the redemption in the future when:

But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, "Know the Lord," for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.

God keeps writing things into our hearts but we keep seeing it as getting in our way. God keeps saying “Please give Justice to all my children.” If we stop and listen what is our response?

The Unjust Judge’s Prayer

God save me from creating you in my own image

Instead of the other way around, in which case

Events be interpreted as if we need earn grace

And love be withdrawn as if it were a privilege

We by projection detecting signs of impatience

Hearing muttered threats, “One of these days

I’m going to make you suffer in all sorts of ways

So that you’ll attend to more threats of violence

Making you so rue the day you were ever born!”

Then I would have to spend energies flattering

You in prayer so I’d not see my blood splattering

As a result of your wrath after the second warn

Because in my world; three strikes - you’re out

As you sit on a throne with bottom lip in a pout.