Engraved on the heart

Last night I went to bed sad and was not sure why.  Yes, I will admit that I was stressed and felt overwhelmed -all explainable; but sad?  Today is the 18th of September.  It would have been my grandmother's birthday.  Each year, I remember this day, it is not engraved on my mind, it is part of my heart.  You see this grandmother was my kindred spirit.  Sadness is the ache of missing her physical presence. Grace is knowing that she embraces me with a host of the communion of saints. 
No longer sad after a moment of pause; now there is a joy that comes in the morning.

Grace, Resurrected

Sometime overnight, GRACE, was resurrected.  At the top of this blog page there is a note that I know two graces, one a little girl with curly hair and a woman in her 90s.  98 year old Grace slept away from her life in our reality.
I have debated what I would do with the intro. and have decided to keep it as is.  I do know Grace, present tense.  Grace, over the past 8 years has become apart of me; in the begining interacting with her in the church communiy, then through visits and the learning of her story, and in the past years through praying for her. 
Grace has given me grace and in her passing has once again graced us with reassurance of resurrection. 
Grace, peace, and blessings -to you Grace -on the resurrected journey.  

sermon - Mark 7: 24-37

PENT 15B

Michael Harvey, the visionary behind Back to Church Sunday, says in his seminars  that “fear is the boundary of the kingdom of God.”

The Gospel of Mark is an escalating series of steps where Jesus proclaims the kingdom of God and manifests it through miraculous healings.  Jesus continually tells parables teaching the mysterious plan of the kingdom to the disciples and others in the movement.  His ideas of the kingdom are presented in a sustained narrative of growing conflict.   BUT in the midst of this God-talk, from one who sounds wise –at least makes one shake their head and say, “what, What did he just say”?  The writer of the Gospel presents to us a very human Jesus, more human than in any other Gospel.  Although wise, well spoken, charismatic, a philosopher of big ideas –God-sized visions; a mind for political debate and confrontation; a hand of healing...Jesus is but human.  Jesus is as much a student as the disciples and crowds.

Consider the difference in the two healing stories from the scripture reading today:

Immediately Jesus takes the deaf man aside and takes time to heal him; without question.  The healed was male, of the house of Israel, of Jesus people, the people to whom Jesus came to teach and be a sign of the kingdom of God being fulfilled.

A Syro-phoenician woman came to Jesus to ask for healing for her daughter. She was a woman, not of the house of Israel –a gentile; not belonging to the group to whom Jesus felt responsibility.  The human Jesus puts God and God’s kingdom in a box, restricting its capacity, and with-holding life giving power. But the woman dares to open Jesus’ mind to new possibilities, a new bigger understanding of God, God’s kingdom, and grace.  Jesus learns that wisdom lies outside of his human ideas and vision, that God dwells in what he considers the fringe, the desert, the undeserving.  It is from this point that Jesus’ message grows bigger, it changes...the message is no longer relegated to the so called “chosen people”, for God embraces all.  Jesus’ understanding of his mission changes, meaning Jesus’ heart changes –loving more deeply by becoming more inclusive.

 I began with Michael Harvey’s words that “fear is the boundary of the kingdom of God.”

Jesus’ human side exhibits fear in today’s passage.  There is a boundary where Jesus did not cross: until this experience with the Gentile woman, Jesus was a Jew among Jews, for 30 years of his life.  He ate in the family, shopped in the kosher market, had friends in the neighbourhood, participated in the synagogue community, honoured Sabbath.  He did not go seeking anything in the Gentile Roman world.  So, as he began teaching and performing miracles, it was out of a call, a vocation, grown in prayer and through the reading of scripture; it was a living enactment of faith and an understanding of God’s kingdom for the Hebrew people.  There was never a thought, the question was not asked, that others could be included, or would want to be included.

And wouldn’t that change everything if God’s kingdom was going to include the unclean, the outsider, the foreigners in the land God had promised them as a people?

 The woman confronts the boundary Jesus has, as to who is included in God’s kingdom grace.

Her comments bash against his fear and in so doing the boundary of the kingdom of God moves wider.  Jesus’ heart is changed, never to be the same again.

Jesus’ fear –what was it exactly: that he would no longer be accepted in his community of 30 years? That he might be seen as a traitor? That if he heals one foreigner, there will be many many more that come along? That he has misunderstood God, or God’s vision? That he really doesn’t want to be God’s messenger?  Things are going to get messy?

If Jesus was in such a place, how much more are we susceptible to having fear keep fences and boundary walls around God’s kingdom; boundary walls, by the way, that are ready to burst and overflow with a love indescribable, if we let go of the fear.  We are holding back the kingdom of God from becoming a living reality.

Jesus had another fear.  This passage, and many like it, have phrases like:

“he did not want anyone to know he was there”; “he took [the deaf man] aside in private”; “Jesus ordered them to tell no one”. 

Every week a group of local clergy get together to discuss the readings for the upcoming Sunday.  One of our conversations this past week included asking, “Why would Jesus keep telling people to be quiet, don’t tell anyone”? 

What if this phrase was said by Jesus to protect himself?  Not from the need to defend himself with the authorities or the religious leaders; he proved himself quite capable of doing this.  I wonder,did Jesus have a fear of stardom?  Or perhaps the temptation of stardom? Or what could happen to his character through popularity?

His community was waiting for a messiah, had been for centuries, and in the last two hundred years in particular many had called themselves just that.

We know from our own time what often happens with stardom:  Visions of grace, working out of love, living and being from an authentic God-driven purpose disappear, replaced by what the world thinks and dictates; juggling so much –especially social engagement; energy zapped before the matters of the heart are heard, digested, and shared. The pressure to live beyond everyone’s expectation, instead of going out being you? How many famous religious leaders, good Christian leaders, evangelists have in the course of God’s mission and call on their lives, been struck with stardom? How many stars have fallen? Was Jesus afraid of stardom?

Let us pause for a moment and reflect on fear; the fears we have as Christians.  I am guessing that most of us are not afraid of stardom or what stardom might do to our characters, but we can relate at some point in our lives, to not wanting to be noticed or drawn out, especially in areas of religion, faith, church. 

Michael Harvey says, that “fear is the boundary of the kingdom of God.” Think of it as those places where we draw the line in the sand.  I am afraid so I will not share a kind word or medical help for the daughter of a distraught woman.  It might cost too much: Too much money. Too much time. Too much drama.  I am afraid so I will not try to speak to the man who is deaf or take the initiative to learn sign language, better to smile and walk by quickly. Too much bother.

As Back to church Sunday approaches, in light of the readings from today, of what are you afraid?  Of whom?  Deep down we know that when we invite others to come to church something is going to change: us, our hearts, our attitudes, our relationships, our community. What we learn from the stories today is that Jesus was in the same place, only the Gentile woman and the deaf man came to Jesus with the invitation, heal me, let God touch me through you.  Are we afraid that those who come will ask more of us than we think we can give?  Heal me. Let God touch me through you.  Does this scare you? 

Jesus’ experiences with the woman and the man, and many others throughout the Gospels are there to dissuade our fear.  The people come, the crowds gather, and Jesus in whatever state of mind he is in, God works through him to heal the suffering, comfort the lost, give peace to the forsaken, offer hope to the poor.

This week we are asked to wrestle with the question of what it is that we are afraid of?  Are we willing to erase fear and move the boundary of the kingdom of God?  Are we willing to simply invite someone and then leave everything else up to God; including letting God work through us?  Heal me....and it will happen.  Let God touch me through you....and it will happen; God’s kingdom will come closer, until that boundary too is eliminated, and the next and the next. God’s kingdom can blossom when we put away fear by stepping outside of our boxes, take down our walls, and purposefully give God’s love and grace; having faith that there is a never ending source and abundance of such blessing.

God open our eyes for the gentile woman and the deaf man who invite us to enter into relationship.  We lay aside our fears so that through our hands You may touch, through our hands You will heal. We invite You to continually warm our hearts, direct our ways, so that through our journey we continue to move the boundary of the kingdom.  Amen.