Temptations in a Troubled Time

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

August 30, 2020

Year A, Proper 17: The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Exodus 3:1-15

Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c

Romans 12:9-21

Matthew 16:21-28

Temptations in a Troubled Time

            If you were here last Sunday, you may remember that it was a really good day for Simon Peter.

            Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And, they run down the list of prophets, including John the Baptist and Jeremiah.

            And, then Jesus asks the disciples an even more important, more pointed question:

            “But, who do you say that I am?”

            And, maybe to everybody else’s surprise, it’s Simon Peter who gets the answer exactly right:

            “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

            Jesus celebrates that God has given Peter the ability to know this great truth – and then Jesus does something at least as unexpected as Peter getting the answer right – he tells Peter and everyone else that the church will be built on Peter the rock – and the church will have the power of condemnation and forgiveness – and nothing will be able to overcome it.

            Well, what a difference a week makes!

            In today’s lesson from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus makes his first prediction about what will happen in Jerusalem - that he will suffer greatly at the hands of those in charge, that he will die, and that he will rise again on the third day.

            That would have been a lot of shocking and upsetting information for anyone to absorb, but maybe because he remembers that he’s the Rock, it’s Peter who takes Jesus aside and, we’re told, “began to rebuke him” – strong word, that rebuke. Peter rebukes Jesus, saying:

            “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.”

            In reply, we’re told that Jesus rebukes Peter, really rebukes him, saying:

            “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

            And then Jesus proceeds to teach them all about the cost of discipleship:

            “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

            So, let’s stop right here for a minute.

            A couple of things:

            It’s true that it might have been better for Peter to hold his tongue, to take some time to think things through before speaking, especially since he seems to have missed the last part of Jesus’ prediction – about rising on the third day.

            And, it might have been wiser for Peter to not “rebuke” Jesus. I mean, that just seems like a bad idea, right?

            But, there’s also Jesus’ response.

            In normal times, I bet Jesus would have responded to Peter firmly but affectionately – something like, “Come on, Peter, settle down. Listen to everything I’m saying. You know I love you and will never abandon you, no matter what.”

            But these are not normal times – these are troubled times for Jesus and his friends – and so Jesus rebukes Peter, calling him “Satan.”

            Now, I can imagine Peter looking so crestfallen, so hurt, about that – of all the things Jesus could have called him. Satan! It’s long way from the Rock of the church to Satan.

But it’s important for us to not think of Satan so much as the “Devil” which is the way the name is usually heard today, right? But, instead we should think of Satan the way Jesus and his friends would have:

The Tempter.

            It seems to me that Jesus reacts so strongly to Peter, who really just cares so much about his Lord’s wellbeing – Jesus rebukes Peter – because Peter has said out loud a temptation that our brother Jesus was already wrestling with – the temptation to give up, to turn away from his mission, to not meet his fate on the cross.

Maybe Jesus was tempted to return home to Nazareth, to go back to his family who no doubt would be relieved to have him back, and glad to put all this messiah business behind them, to try to forget everything that had happened.

            We know that Jesus wrestled with the temptation to avoid his fate at least right up to his arrest, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane that his Father might take this cup from him.

            Temptations in a troubled time.

           

In today’s Old Testament lesson, we continue with the story of Moses, born to an Israelite woman, raised by the Pharaoh’s daughter, and now he’s a married man tending his father-in-law’s flock when he has an encounter with God.

            God entrusts him with a great and most unlikely mission, to lead his people to freedom. Moses seriously doubts that he’s the right person for the job (always a good sign – it’s the overconfident ones you’ve got to watch out for) but he trusts the God who promises to be with him and the people.

 Moses begins a long journey that will be filled with many obstacles and frustrations.

As we’ll hear in coming weeks, during their time of trouble the people will be tempted over and over – tempted even to return to enslavement in Egypt where at least there was plenty of food and water – tempted even to turn away from God and instead worship a golden calf made by human hands.

It will not be an easy journey, but despite many missteps, the people of Israel will persevere, will overcome their temptations, and reach the promised land.

And now, here we are in our own time of trouble.

Every week, every day, brings more and more trouble:

The dismantling of the Postal Service, with dismembered sorting machines tossed in dumpsters and mailboxes removed from sidewalks and piled like junk.

Police officers still shooting unarmed Black people, even after all the cries of “Black Lives Matter,” even after all of the videos taken by outraged bystanders, even after all of the protests and promises to do better.

Increasingly open displays of white power symbols, both by everyday people and, much more dangerous, by people in authority.

More and more people having their minds poisoned by bizarre and plainly untrue conspiracy theories – so poisoned that some, as we saw just the other day, resort to violence.

People who are so understandably enraged and frustrated, who feel so powerless, that they destroy property, unfortunately only serving to fuel a cynical narrative that causes even more division and destruction.

The environment is collapsing: all-time record high temperatures, wildfires burning yet again in Northern California, an unprecedented two hurricanes at the same time in the Gulf of Mexico, and government policies that encourage more drilling and more burning.

And, lest we forget, we are still in the middle of a pandemic – with COVID killing about a thousand people in our country every day - and there are millions unemployed and many are on the verge of eviction.

And, in one last wound from a terrible week, as you know, the actor Chadwick Boseman, who dazzled and inspired playing real-life heroes like Thurgood Marshall and Jackie Robinson and of course the superhero Black Panther, died way too young – and, as we learned, he was a hero himself.

Well, by now I’ve depressed you all – by comparison, forty days in the wilderness chowing down on manna doesn’t sound so bad, does it?

And, as always, in our time of trouble, Satan is very much at work.

Like the Israelites, we may be tempted to just go along with the crowd, to live like so many other people, to worship the golden calves of today. We may be tempted to choose hate instead of love, choosing what seems like the easier way, but is always a so much heavier burden.

We may be tempted – and I know this is my temptation – we may be tempted to look away – to turn off the news, to skip the newspaper, to stay quiet – to just go back to minding our own business, caring only for the people we consider our own, just like I’m sure Jesus really was tempted to go home to Nazareth and forget about his mission.

But, Jesus did follow through in his mission – and, yes, as he had predicted, there was great suffering – but in the end there was new life for him, and new life for us.

And so, in our time of trouble, I’m holding on to God and the new life promised and given by Jesus.

Let’s trust in the God who gave Moses the strength to lead his people to freedom – let’s trust in the God who raised Jesus on the third day.

Even in a time of social distancing, let’s stick together.

Let’s keep close to the church, because we know that nothing can overcome it.

Let’s keep close to our family and friends

And, let’s also join with people of goodwill to fight for long overdue and much-needed change, like I hope we all will tomorrow night at the New Jersey Together action.

In our time of trouble, let’s not give in to Satan the tempter.

As St. Paul writes, let us “not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Amen.

Resident Aliens, Living in a Shredded Civilization

Resident Aliens, Living in a Shredded Civilization

Back in 2014, The New York Times published a story* about the Iraqi railway system, or what was left of it. Just a few decades ago, it was possible and common to travel from the central station in Baghdad to cities across much of the Middle East. When the article was written, some of the signs pointing to faraway locations were still hanging in the terminal, but there was just one line still operating, from the capital to the port city of Basra. Years of war, invasion, corruption, and neglect had destroyed most of the rail system and much else in this long-suffering and deeply disunited country,

Ahmed Ali, a railroad employee for over thirty years, remembered that he used to meet all sorts of people from Iraq and elsewhere on the trains, but no more. He said, “Now, everything is gone.”

This story is a reminder of how easily we can shred the fragile fabric of civilization. During much of the last century, I’m sure that people in Iraq and other parts of the Middle East saw their efficient and modern rail system as a powerful sign of progress. Wouldn’t it be natural to assume that the trains would run forever? Yet, that was not to be. And, if it’s even possible to weld the pieces back together, it will surely take a very long time. (While not as dire as the situation in Iraq, riders of NJ Transit trains have firsthand experience of just how quickly service can decline due to neglect and a lack of political will.) 

A few weeks ago, I began noticing that we were no longer receiving mail every day and, in fact, now mail seems to get delivered about twice a week. I’m sure you have heard the accusations that the Postmaster General made a deliberate political decision to slow delivery, dismantle sorting machines, and cart away mailboxes. He denies any such intent but has pledged to stop these changes until after the election. (However, he has refused to undo the changes already made.) No matter why this is happening, the apparent end of daily mail delivery (a service dating back to the days of Benjamin Franklin) and the images of chopped up sorting machines in dumpsters and mailboxes piled like junk, remind me of the Baghdad terminal, haunted by the memories of all those trains that no longer run.

How easily we can shred civilization.

And, unfortunately, it’s not just the US Postal Service or NJ Transit. These past few months of pandemic and economic collapse have revealed longstanding weaknesses and inequities in our country. We’ve been told for years that we have the best health care in the world, yet many of our hospitals turned out to be so poorly equipped, lacking even basic supplies. No matter how much we want to get back to “normal,” it’s dangerous for children and teachers to return to often overcrowded and antiquated schools. Many of the most essential workers – the people who kept us going during the worst days of fear, sickness, and death - are in fact some of the lowest paid and least respected. Even with all the cries of “Black Lives Matter” and so much media attention, even with all the videos made by frantic bystanders, unarmed Black people continue to get shot by the police. White members of “militias” can dress up in camouflage and arm themselves to the teeth and even shoot and kill people, as we saw just a few days ago, while at least some in authority look the other way or perhaps even approve. Gun violence, including right here in Jersey City, continues to trap young and old in their homes. Bizarre conspiracy theories run wild on the Internet and are starting to gain respectability from some of our leaders. Each week seems to bring another environmental catastrophe: record-breaking heat, wildfires, hurricanes, and more. And, the gaps in wealth and incarceration between white people and Black people, especially here in New Jersey, are astonishingly wide – so vast that it’s like we live in two different worlds.

How should we Christians respond to the shredding of our civilization?

Some might suggest circling the wagons, retreating behind the church walls (even virtual walls), remaining silent about the issues of the day, focused on looking after ourselves and our own as best we can, kind of how monks enclosed in monasteries preserved as much of Western Civilization as they could after the collapse of the Roman Empire, waiting and hoping for better days. I get the appeal of that approach. I’ve been a voracious consumer of news since I was a kid, but nowadays I mostly just flip through the news sections of the paper and spend most of my time with the crossword. Unfortunately, we may choose to tune out the news, but the reality is the shredding of civilization’s fabric means suffering for countless people, especially those already most vulnerable.

Christians are meant to be “resident aliens,” people who live in the world but are not of the world. Getting too cozy with worldly power, no matter who is in charge, is a sure sign that the church has lost its way. Instead, we should be engaged in the issues of the day but always with a critical eye, knowing that no politician or political platform will perfectly align with our faith. And, as seems to be happening more and more these days, when the world chooses hatred, cruelty, selfishness, and destruction, we must choose a different way, the way of Jesus: the way of love, compassion, generosity, and service.  This is not an easy way – it would be far easier to just go along with everybody else – but for us it is the only way.

Walking the way of Jesus looks a little different for each of us, but there are some actions that we all can and should do, including working together with other Christians and people of other faiths or no particular faith, to not only sew our civilization back together, but weave the pieces into a fabric even stronger and more beautiful than what was before. That’s what New Jersey Together will be up to on Monday night at 7:30, when something like 2,000 people from across the state will gather on Zoom to press our leaders to stop shredding and to start sewing. I hope that all of us resident aliens – all of us who try our best to walk the way of Jesus - will attend: https://www.njtogether.org/action2020

The Foundation

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

August 23, 2020

Year A, Proper 16: The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Exodus 3:1-15

Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c

Romans 12:9-21

Matthew 16:21-28

The Foundation

            It’s hard to believe that it was more than twenty years ago now that Sue and I bought a house just a few blocks from here, over on Highland Avenue.

            It was a little house, just twelve feet wide, but it was a big purchase for us and I remember feeling really nervous about taking on this very adult responsibility, and a little overwhelmed by the many hoops we had to jump through before we got the keys to the place and could move in.

            One of those hoops was the home inspection.

            Our realtor recommended an inspector and one day we spent some time walking through the house with him as he shined his flashlight into dark corners and poked tools into the wooden beams.

            I remember him telling me that the most important part of the house was the foundation – that everything else could be fixed but if the foundation was no good, then the house was no good.

            Well, the inspection came back pretty clean and we signed all the paperwork, moved in, and had some very happy years living in our little house.

            After I was ordained and then hired as the assistant at Grace Church in Madison we tried to rent out our house but we quickly learned that we’re really not cut out to be landlords. So, with a real sense of sadness and loss, we decided to put the house on the market.

            Now, the new buyer must have hired a much more thorough inspector than we had, because the report that came back was way thicker than what we had gotten – in my memory it was like an encyclopedia or a phone book!

            This very thorough inspector found a lot of things wrong with the house. I remember turning the pages and my stomach feeling sicker and sicker, convinced that we would never be able to sell this place.

But then I remembered!

The foundation!

The foundation!

So, I looked and looked and finally found what he had to say about the foundation – and, thank God, the foundation was good.

            And so, despite its many issues, and after many repairs and some negotiation, we were finally able to sell the house.

            If you have been with us for the past few Sundays, you probably remember that we have been hearing about the founding family of Israel – Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel, and all the rest.

            As I’ve been saying, they were quite a dysfunctional family and yet God chose them to be the seed – to be the start - of God’s people.

And, for the last two weeks we talked about the fourth generation, about Joseph and his brothers. It’s a story of resentment and cruelty and surviving against the odds, a story that ends with the surprising twist of forgiveness and new life.

With Joseph and his family happily reunited in Egypt, it sure seemed like the people of Israel were all set.

But, you know how it is: things always have a way of changing.

So, as we heard in today’s lesson, a new Pharaoh is now in charge of Egypt and he is suspicious of the numerous and prosperous Israelites (otherwise known as Hebrews) living in his land. So, he devises policies to make their lives difficult – enslaving them and working them ruthlessly – and yet the Israelites continued to multiply.

Even more devious and cruel, the Pharaoh tries to enlist the Hebrew midwives (it’s unclear if they were Hebrews themselves or Egyptian midwives to the Hebrews) – Pharaoh tries to enlist the midwives to kill all the newborn Hebrew boys.

When that doesn’t work, Pharaoh orders all of his people to throw all the Hebrew boys into the Nile – and notice there’s some irony and foreshadowing here because we know that later it will be the waters that will devour the Egyptians and allow the Israelites escape into freedom.

Anyway, it’s not clear how many of the Israelite boys were able to survive, but, as we heard today, at least one of them did: Moses.

And through yet another surprising twist, Moses is rescued by Pharaoh’s daughter but raised for a time by his own mother before being returned to the princess.

It’s an unlikely start for the man who will be a central character in the story of Israel, a man who will not think he’s up to the job, but who God chose lead the people to freedom.

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus asks his disciples two questions.

“Who do people say that I am?”

And the disciples respond by telling Jesus all the speculation that they’ve heard from others about Jesus’ identity: he’s John the Baptist or Jeremiah or some other prophet.

But then Jesus asks his second, more difficult question:

“But who do you say that I am?”

And, maybe to everybody’s surprise, it’s Simon Peter who gets the exactly right answer. He says:

“You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

Now, it’s important to notice what happens next.

Jesus tells Simon Peter that he didn’t come up with this correct answer on his own, nor did someone else tell him this Good News.

No, this knowledge was a gift from God.

And, then, in a twist maybe even more surprising than Simon Peter getting the correct answer, Jesus makes a pun on the nickname Peter (which means “Rock), Jesus says, “…on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”

What an enormous responsibility.

What an immense weight to place on the shoulders of Peter who - as we know and as we will hear again next week - so often messed up, didn’t quite get it, so often proved to be nowhere near as strong as a rock.

Throughout the Bible, throughout the history of the Church, God seems to delight in choosing the unlikeliest people for the most extraordinary tasks – people like Israel’s dysfunctional founding family, and reluctant Moses, and the often confused and sometimes unfaithful Peter, and so many others, they are given some really big jobs and responsibilities.

Why?

Well, I don’t know exactly.

Maybe it’s a way for us to see people through God’s eyes: to see people as much more than the worst things they’ve ever done.

Maybe it’s a way to get us to look in strange places and to turn to unlikely people for signs of God.

And, maybe God chooses these flawed people as a reminder that it’s not all on them – it’s not all on us.

Peter may be the rock, but God is the foundation.

I’m reminded of the theologian Paul Tillich’s description of God as “the ground of being.”

God – the God we see most clearly in Jesus Christ – God is the foundation.

“The ground of being.”

And, I don’t know about you but I find remembering that God is the foundation to be a comfort and a relief – especially these days when so many of the institutions we have relied on our whole lives are looking very shaky and when many of our leaders don’t seem to have our best interests in mind.

If we were to read an inspection report of the world and the country our stomach would likely feel sicker and sicker.

After flipping the pages – Covid19 – unemployment and evictions – wildfires – hurricanes – the post office – the presidential election – and on and on, we might very well be tempted to despair, until we remember:

The foundation!

The Foundation!

And we flip to that page in our huge imaginary inspection report and with a deep sigh of relief we find there the God who used Abraham and his family and Moses and Peter and so many others – the God who gives us the gift of faith and the ability to recognize the truth - the God who is the ground of being – God the Foundation.

Our world and our country have many issues, and we definitely need a whole lot of repairs and negotiation.

We have a lot of work to do but, fortunately, it’s not all on us.

So, do not despair, because God – the God we see most clearly in and through Jesus – God is the foundation.

Amen.