Better Than Biscuits

A pastor was attending a men’s breakfast in Farm Country. He asked one of the senior farmers to say grace before the meal.  The farmer began: “Lord, I hate buttermilk.” The pastor opened one eye and wondered where this was going. The farmer continued loudly proclaiming, “Lord, I hate lard.” Now the pastor was worried. However, without missing a beat the farmer prayed on, “And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw white flour.” Just as the pastor thought to stand up and stop the prayer, the farmer said, “But, Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them up, I do love fresh biscuits. So, Lord, when things come up we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we just don’t understand what you are saying, we just need to relax and wait until you are done mixing, and probably it will be something even better than biscuits. Amen.”
A little levity on a Sunday when the readings are anything but funny. In Jeremiah God compares God’s self to a potter, who in the making a vessel reworks the clay many times over.  The prophet tells the people God’s work as potter includes shaping evil against the people and devising a plan against them; unless they turn around; turn and amend their ways and their doings. In Luke Jesus continues the conversation in a similar vein, teaching what amended ways look like, and graphically explaining what ‘doings’ are expected of followers.  Jesus is blunt; you did hear the Gospel read correctly, “whoever comes to me and does not HATE father and mother, wife, children...even life itself cannot be my follower.”
It is one thing to hate buttermilk, to hate lard, but, to hate father and mother and all those familial relationships where one hopes for relationships that are right and good and healthy. To hate, Jesus, are you being serious?
Yes, this passage is Jesus being very serious. Although perhaps with too much hyperbole, Jesus is stressing that being a disciple could lead to losing relationships with loved ones ... because you will be different. You will be set free to live, not for oneself, but, rather, for the health and wellbeing of the world. It might mean altering beliefs, affiliating with a different political party, changing one’s lifestyle, befriending a new group or groups of people, advocating for  ideals that contradict others in one’s own family circle. It means choosing beliefs, morals, ethics, attitudes, and actions for oneself; sometimes this is a drastic turn----and it can cause irritation, fights, and broken relationships. It will also create and build new relationships.
Jesus isn’t mincing his words. After the potential loss of relationship he comments that one needs to carry the cross, and this is not hyperbole to the hearers.  Rome was very adept at killing rabble-rousers, advocates, and social change makers.  The land was littered with people dead or dying on crosses along roadsides; the idea was to deter uprising; to deter people thinking for themselves; to deter people from giving hope and power to those who were hopeless, helpless, and powerless.
 Years after Jesus’ strong words, workers in the church were carrying the cross; literally dying for sharing the Gospel, for living a different way, for challenging the powers of the time to address social injustices, for giving hope to the forgotten, for lifting the poor out of poverty, for loving their neighbours, for opposing the Empire, for advocating for rights, for redistributing resources.  Paul writes his letter to Philemon, while in prison for preaching the Gospel. Others at the time had been killed -crucified on crosses- and more deaths followed. Paul writes Philemon with a very big, life altering ask. He asks that Philemon put his faith into action – to live the Gospel- by giving his slave Onesimus his freedom.  This is a big ask! Slavery was the norm in Roman households of Philemon’s time.  Colossae, the city, where Philemon, lived had many merchants, land owners, and magistrates who had slaves. To make ‘the ask’ more difficult Onesimus was a run away slave, this explains why Paul had met him while in prison.  Onesimus has been changed by the Gospel and wants to be an emissary for the Gospel – to do this he needs to be free, so he has the ability to go and teach, preach, and serve.
 Philemon is a Christian.  He has resources such that the church in Colossae meets in his house. He is seen as a patron of the church.  Paul fills his letter with accolades, and pressures Philemon to make the ‘right’ decision for the Gospel – to free Onesimus.  To do this was to carry a cross.  Philemon’s fellow social and class group would be upset at this revolutionary move, and it would ostracize him from colleagues. For goodness sake, such actions might give slaves ideas; it set people free, it changed the balance of power, it changed society values, it was not the perceived best practice, it would disrupt the comfort of the status quo, it could start a rebellion. This is exactly what Jesus meant in the Gospel – warning of hating father and mother, and that being a disciple was costly.
I had a Christian history professor in seminary who over and over again, preached, that if the church is not being persecuted, it is not living the Gospel. He came out of a seminary experience that included participating in the labour union movement, the Pittsburgh steel riots of the 1970s, and various marches for this or that. He fought hard for the rights of workers...this came out of his understanding of the Gospel, that all should be free from slavery, whatever its form.  He carried this cross - losing relationships, building others, to follow Jesus’ revolutionary ideals – for the healing of the world.
Today’s scriptures tell us, in blunt and shocking words, exactly what being a follower – a Christian is about. We are told exactly how much it will cost us.  I wonder, how much has being a Christian cost you? Have you carried a cross?
Peter Claver was born in 1581 into a devout Catholic family.  His parents were prosperous farmers and land owners. As a young adult he attended the University of Barcelona and was known for his intelligence and piety; this led him to more study within the Society of Jesus. At the time, there was a lay brother, Alphonsus Rodriguez, at the college; he was known for having a gift of prophecy. Alphonsus believed that God had called Peter Claver to spend his life in service in the colonies in the new world – in New Spain.
In 1610, Claver arrived in New Spain, in the city of Cartagena, in what is now Columbia. He spent six years in study and living with the Jesuits before being ordained a priest. In these years, Claver was deeply bothered by the harsh treatment and living conditions of slaves being brought in from Africa. Slaves arrived on ships that were overcrowded and despicable in condition, with an estimated third dying on the voyage across the ocean. Cartagena was the hub of the slave trade, with 10,000 slaves coming into port each year; despite papal decrees having denounced slavery, it continued because it was a lucrative trade.
  The Jesuits had been ministering with the slaves for many years before Claver arrived to carry on the work of Fr. Alonso de Sandoval. Claver set up shop on the docks and met the ships -met the slaves- with medicine, food, clothing, and brandy, in hand.  In the off-season of shipping, Claver visited plantations taking along items in short supply. Claver took time to learn the language of the people, and taught Christianity in a vast number of African dialects. It is estimated that in his 40 years of ministry he personally taught and baptized 300,000 slaves.
But the Jesus work – the work talked about in today’s Gospel was his work that shock the powers that be.
He fought for Christian slaves to ensure they received their Christian and civil rights. Claver would return to plantations to continue to keep owners accountable. On such trips, he would accept the hospitality of slaves and lodge in these homes, refusing the hospitality of owners, overseers, and traders. His persistent advocacy for the rights of slaves annoyed city officials and magistrates.
His unrelenting work, determination, outspokenness, and actions saw the change, as slave situations improved. In time Claver was considered a moral force – and called the Apostle of Cartagena. Claver up to his death in 1654 from a prolonged sickness, referred to himself as “the slave of the slaves forever.”
Peter carried a cross;  a cross that set others free.  Because of the Gospel, whom have you free?
Jeremiah ends with the words of the Lord, Turn now, all of you from your evil way, and amend your ways and your doings. We are invited to live big picture thinking.  Philemon has the choice to free his slave Onesimus, Paul saying it is the ethical, the Christian thing to do, even though in his world this would have been a revolutionary act. We are told that carrying the cross is the expectation, the Christian best practice.
We might hate buttermilk. We might hate lard. We might not like raw white flour very much. BUT, we do like biscuits.  God is mixing the dough, mixing us up, cooking up a batch of Christians that are not afraid to live Christian lives... lives that through the Gospel set people free. Please God, when things come up that we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we just don’t understand what you are saying, help us relax, and let you mix....so that we have the power to act and to live into freedom...to participate in creating something way better than biscuits. Amen.

note that the joke was sent to me via social media

Borrowed Tables

This morning’s Gospel parable puts in front of us the complexity of a wedding banquet. The parable itself is not difficult to follow, it is quite simple and to the point.  Do not sit in the place of honour in case some greater dignitary has been invited ...what you should do is go and sit in the lowest place.
We all know it is far more complicated than that.  Consider the wedding dinners you have attended and the people with whom you have had to sit.  Consider seating arrangements you have drawn up. How do you decide who to invite, or not invite? Who sits where and with whom?  Do you choose not to have a seating arrangement – where people find their own table mates? How will the tables be placed to be most equitable? Do you take into consideration the attendees feelings or personalities? How do you inform people where they are sitting?  If you don’t like those you are sitting with, do you move or exchange places? And in planning, do you sit the most undesirable of guests, or left-overs, with the pastor and their spouse ... assuming that the pastor has an extra dose of patience and compassion?... trust me, this happens.
Such a parable is a great way for Jesus to start a conversation.  We all have stories, or experiences, of inviting or being invited to a meal at someone else’s table. The wedding dinner nicely showcases the variety of human emotion and the complexity of human relationships.

The Welcome Table is the name of the book I use for First Communion instruction.  The book is told from the eyes of a little girl who participates in her baby brother’s baptism.  As he gets a little bigger she teaches him about Jesus, helps him fold his hands in prayer, says table grace for him, and when in church gets him to loudly say the response to Go in peace. Serve the Lord. The little girl also invites a friend to church and invites her to come to the welcome table to receive a blessing.  She explains the importance of the meal. She says that it is kind of like celebrating Thanksgiving where everyone in the family can have a seat at the table.  She tells her friend if she likes to come to church, one day she too can eat the meal, just like her brother when he is older. When the little girls are at the altar rail, the friend notices all the people who share the meal: young and old, different races, males and females, people who are single, families, the grouchy and the happy.  She sees friends from school and complete strangers. It is obvious that everyone comes as they are and they are welcome.
When Jesus came on a sabbath to eat a meal in the house of one of the leading Pharisees, they observed him closely.
Let’s take a moment to think about this line. First note that it is the sabbath, a day set aside for people to right their relationships with God and with each other. A day for rest, relaxation, rejuvenation.
Second it is at someone else’s table. The Gospels never record Jesus eating at his own table, in his own home.  The Augsburg Fortress resource for this week says that Jesus eats at borrowed tables.  It began from the moment of birth, being laid in a borrowed manger.  He eats at the home of Mary and Martha; Jesus eats with Simon’s mother-in-law after raising her from her sick bed; Jesus eats at Zacchaeus’ table after calling him to change his ways; Jesus makes wine at a wedding feast; Jesus eats at borrowed tables with sinners;  the Last Supper is in a borrowed upper room; Jesus post resurrection meal is on a beach.  Borrowed tables.
Thirdly, Jesus borrows the table, to which he has been invited as guest, as a platform, a moment to usher in the Great Banquet, God’s feast. It is in the breaking of bread that a miracle happens...thousands are fed with two loaves and a few fish; at a borrowed table a woman is forgiven as she washes Jesus’ feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair.  When Jesus comes to dinner women and Gentiles are directly included in the conversation; people are healed; water is made into wine; Jesus washes the disciples feet and tells them to love one another; Jesus interprets the Law in new ways, pointedly admonishing the host in the process; besides this diners, at various dinner parties are challenged to see the world through different eyes and to act accordingly.  No wonder the Pharisees were watching when Jesus sat at the table with them.
When Jesus came on the sabbath  ...
When Jesus comes on the sabbath to eat a meal  ... in this house .. .what happens?

During my teenage years I spent summer weekends on a friends farm, a borrowed table.  My friend had a dad and three older brothers who were responsible for 75 head of milking jersey cows, a mom who was responsible for a number of pigs, my friend’s chore was to tend to her baby sister and to have supper ready when chores were done. I would help her in the kitchen.  The first night she said, “take the dish of what you would like to eat the most to the table last and keep it on your lap until after grace; help yourself before passing it.” I was perplexed but listened to her. No sooner was grace said, when all the dishes of food on the table were scooped up by the family; by the time dishes were passed, there was often little left in the bowls. The family were hard workers and they were hungry come supper.  It was no holds bar.  Give thanks then grab, eat, and go.

Surely this is not how Jesus finds us, when Jesus comes on sabbath to eat a meal in this house.
Each week we give thanks and invite Jesus to this house for a meal, a meal in his honour. Jesus comes to this borrowed table -to borrowed tables and places around the world- and is manifest in our midst, in the breaking of bread, in the sharing of wine. Christ’s presence opens our hearts and the rail -the seats around the table- to be a table of welcome; where all of us in our glorious diversity come and share equally bread of life and wine of blessing.  In the moment, Jesus challenges us:  to set aside greed, to enter into relationship, to eat side by side, to forgive others as we have been forgiven, to receive grace and love when we don’t feel we deserve it.  Jesus challenges us to eat our fill through a tiny morsel of bread and to go abundantly share it. The idea of eating at this borrowed table is to realize it is not our table, God borrows it for the purpose of miracles, healing, conversation, forgiveness, challenge. The expectation is that eating here is not like eating at my friends farmhouse table with her family, where diners were greedy, only focused on food, forgetting each other to fill their own bellies. Being part of God’s meal, at a borrowed table, has host and diner – every diner- sitting side by side.

There is a story of a journalist who is given the opportunity to have a tour of the afterlife; God’s great banquet.  St. Peter is the tour guide.  The journalist, of course, is interested in seeing what heaven looks like; so is shown a large room with a warm hearth, a large pot of yummy smelling soup, and loaves of freshly baked bread. The people seem relaxed, well fed, and enjoying each other’s company.  The journalist noted that the people were curiously tied to each other by their wrists; meaning everything they did they did together – co-operating. There was a large dinning table and those sitting at it were feeding each other with long handled spoons dipping into the tureen in the middle of the table, and serving the person opposite them.  The journalist appreciated the relaxed nature of the meal, the inclusion of all present, and the rich conversation.
St. Peter than took the journalist to see hell, which was the room next door.  The room had been set up identically to that of heaven. Yet the room felt cold, the fire in the hearth didn’t cast much heat- rather it put out quite a bit of smoke and soot. People looked annoyed, hungry, and lost. The large dinning table had a similar tureen and long handled spoons, as the counterpart in heaven.  The only difference was that those seated at the table were not eating. Due to the length of the spoon handles it was impossible to feed oneself...the hell of it was that no one would feed the person across from them at the table.

When Jesus comes on a sabbath to eat a meal in this house I like to believe that our welcome is as hospitable as that offered to us by Jesus through the meal. I wonder though, if we extend such a welcome because we have failed to send out invitations, meaning we are happy and comfortable with those who are part of the community and have not invited those who make us squeamish. Perhaps we have invited our friends, our families, people we know can add a few dollars to the collection plate, people we don’t mind sitting beside for an hour, people with whom we will gladly share a common cup.  Jesus has come to us on the sabbath, a day of rest in which to make right our relationships with God, all people, and creation. Jesus has sat down with us and borrowed the table to challenge us on our invitation practices. Via a wedding dinner parable Jesus pointedly admonishes us – the importance we have given ourselves; the choice we think we have in sending out invitations and making seating arrangements; insinuates that we are greedy, withholding bread and wine for ourselves. 
This week as Jesus comes to us at this borrowed table, may we be so filled with thanksgiving for being invited, welcomed, and included, that we are changed, recognizing the abundance given to us to share. Let’s be lavish in righting our relationships with all people. Let us have conversations with people – all people, every people, each person we meet. Let us invite your friends, relatives, or wealthy neighbours – remember though you may get invited to a meal in their house of worship -  and most importantly let us invite and welcome everyone -everyone- those without a faith home, those we would not want to sit beside at a wedding dinner, the person we would have trouble sharing the common cup with, the person we would not want to rub shoulders with at the altar rail, the person with the hand we would no want to shake during the sharing of the peace, the person we would not want to get stuck with during coffee fellowship...invite them specifically. These invitations are a top priority!

Do not neglect to do good, showing hospitality to strangers, and share what you have for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.

A Scattering of Poems in the Sky

In the notes of scene 6 in the Glass Menagerie, the playwright, Tennesse Williams, describes the lighting for the scene: the light comes up in the living room---a delicate lemony yellow. It is about five on a Friday evening of late spring which comes “scattering poems in the sky.” 

This was my experience of reading the scriptures for this week, a scattering of poems in the sky. You know that change of time: when the sky softens, and what clouds there are manipulate through a series of colour as if kaleidoscopes dancing the departure of the setting sun; in the soft and darkening hues, the night lights –the stars, the milky way- are seen twinkling in the evening sky. The poets and songwriters catch it all in the tips of their pencils, capturing in words the glimpses of the beauty before them. It is that change of time that if we are paying attention touches our spirits and our emotions – it affects us and we bathe in wonder and awe.  

The Glass Menagerie has other stage notes.  It is suggested that in the setting of the play, screens are used to project words, phrases, titles, memories – snippets of this or that. The scripture texts for today struck me in this way. I read them, not as a full text, but, rather, snippets that scattered before my eyes. I can see them illuminated on a screen, or scattered as poems in the sky.  Words that I have heard many times before, words that have been used at funerals or weddings, words that are in some way treasured because they are remembered.  Imagine these words twinkling across the evening sky: 

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen 

Don’t be afraid, little flock, it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. 

though your sins are like scarlet they shall be like snow...become like wool 

Cease to do evil/learn to do good/seek justice/rescue the oppressed/defend the orphan/plead for the widow 

A beautiful cacophony stretched across the sky, across the universe, out beyond time; and in the very dust and gas that forms life. 

The Glass Menagerie is a play where the characters are imprisoned by life circumstances.  There is a sense of hopelessness and uncertainty. Confined to a small apartment the characters seek to break away, to find freedom, change, meaning, hope --- for a moment. The mother returns to old memories, to get lost in a time when life was full of options and opportunities, with a hope that these opportunities may once again become real for her children. The son writes poetry when not at work, he watches the sky from the fire escape, and escapes by going to the movies and living other peoples’ adventures --- seeking adventure to be freed from circumstance. The daughter is physically fragile, she has taken to collecting tiny glass ornaments; by manipulating them in light, she catches fleeting glimmers of beauty, of hope. 

Their treasures: memories, adventure, glass ornaments. 

Sometimes I feel like I live in a glass menagerie; a place of fragility, where any movement might break the last pieces of sanity and scatter what hope and optimism I can muster. The world is in precarious times – not that it hasn’t been before, but, for those my age – the reality of unrest, blatant racism, gun violence, political vitriol, bombs, inadequate social systems, crisis brought about by global warming, movement of displaced people, were things that we deemed happened in other places; not in North America, not in Canada. Perhaps our emotions have caught up to a reality that has always been present.  We are now watchful, alert. 

In times like these- --in times like that of the people to whom Isaiah was talking, when at their door were the armies of the Assyrians, then the Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Persians; when vast armies marched through them, trampling their crops, pillaging and plundering; taking people into captivity, displacing others; ---in times like that of the people who first heard Luke’s gospel, when the rich were rich and the poor, poor; when the foreign occupying power enslaved, and killed, and prevented people from honouring their God; --in times like these, the uncontrollable circumstance of life, what is one to do? Where is one to find their treasure? 

The author of Hebrews, writes about people of faith; people who were legends in the eyes of the listener – the section we heard was of Abraham and Sarah. By faith Abraham and Sarah became as numerous as the stars of the sky and the sands of the sea. And where or what was their treasure?  It was not in the land from which they came, not in memories. The text says that, They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth (for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.) Their treasure was not in a memory, not a material place, a thing, a glass ornament; or living other peoples’ adventures.  Their treasure was faith. And by faith they had confidence and assurance and conviction. Their treasure was in the heart of God- those things unseen. 

Until a Sunday like this, when the scripture texts are not really a story, not easy to get into, not particularly themed, I forget about “those things unseen”– the very heart of God.  Today I am reminded that the depth of the scripture, the treasure of the text – is the Word.  

Within Lutheran circles, Word used in this way is capitalized.  The Word –God's heart- is Christ coming to us through words. When watchful, alert, listening, and open – the Word filters into our being and waits to blossom in those times when we are feeling paralyzed and imprisoned by the circumstances of life. 

In the community of the Hebrews, the people of Isaiah’s time, and those to whom Luke was writing, the texts offer the listeners a glimpse into “those things unseen.” Each text eludes to a time when all will be set right, a time when human circumstance will be but a shadow of memory eclipsed by the reality of  

God's lifegiving kingdom; an inclusion and welcome to live in the heart of God.  The texts are a paradox: speaking of a glorious time to come, remembering glimpses of past faith brought to life, and the directive to live God’s coming kingdom in the present. Time conflates. The Word is in all time and all place and all circumstance and all substance and is the unseen. 

The Word as articulated through sacred text across the centuries, repeats and scatters the same familiar poems through the sky. Humans are reminded that treasure, is living by faith in the Word. It is the Word that tells us how it is that one can journey toward and live more and more in the heart of God. The words flash before our eyes, as twinkling stars: Plead for the widow, defend the orphan, rescue the oppressed, seek justice, learn to do good, cease to do evil. 

Currently, there are a couple of television commercials that have children unplugging, going outside, lying on their backs and looking up into a vast evening sky.  With wonder and delight in their eyes and voices, one is left with hope and possibilities of what is to come. In that moment one feels, 

though your sins are like scarlet they shall be like snow...become like wool, the Word present to snuggle us closer into the heart of God. 

Living into God’s heart we find there the widow, the orphan, the oppressed; and surprisingly our circumstances, lives circumstances, are but glass ornaments collecting dust on a shelf. Our treasure has changed from: memories, seeking adventure, and glass ornaments – expanded by faith, in relationship with the Word – to new a treasure. Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. 

By faith, and with continual practice, living the Word is treasure.  We become the mirrors that reflect Christ’s light – the Word- through the very ornaments that are collecting dust; we shine through the circumstances. We are the Word in motion – the words going up on silk screens to dislodge memories, shine through fixed ornaments, bump into those lost and hiding in the next adventure; the snippets of text –of Word- we carry with us interrupt and blossom into the lives of the imprisoned and fearful world. And with it the unseen...the kingdom passes through us. 

Don’t be afraid, little flock, it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 

With awe and wonder look up to the heavens and take with you this morning snippets of sacred text.  Take with you the Word in the fullness of faith and the promises that lie therein; treasure the Word in your heart, and live into the heart of God.  Look up, be alert, see – believe – act into... 

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen...so it is written – a scattering of poems in the sky.