5th Sunday of Lent Sermon

April 10, 2011

Fifth Sunday of Lent –A

 The Rev. Marguerite Alley

If only….I had not stayed up so late

If only I hadn’t gone to bed so early, I wouldn’t have missed

If only I had stayed with that diet

If only I had allowed myself a few pleasures from time to time

If only I hadn’t let myself get so out of shape

If only I hadn’t been so driven

If only I had taken that job

If only I hadn’t taken that job

If only I had waited

If only I had gone sooner

If only I had thought longer about it

If only I had gone with my gut

If only I had known

If only you had known

I think most of us have spent our lives re-visiting past decisions and circumstances, re-imagining how the outcome might be different had we decided differently, or how we could have made a better decision if we had more information, or a better sense of timing.

We spend our lives saying “if only”. If and only are two of the smallest, and yet most meaningful words in our language. “If” is full of hope and possiblility. It is full of imagination. It has no limits. If ______ then.   But “only”. The word “only” is limiting. It implies a smaller portion. I suggests less. It is lonely. Put the two words together and you have a conundrum. Change the order of the two and you get a slightly different twist. “Only if” suggests there is some hope. “Only if” says that under these specific  circumstances this will happen. But “If only” suggests something has been lost; something didn’t happen; something won’t or can’t happen.

Mary and Martha were close and dear friends of Jesus, as was their brother Lazarus. I recently read a fascinating commentary that suggested and presented some rather compelling evidence that Lazarus was “the disciple whom Jesus loved”, and that because Jesus raised him from death, he and Jesus shared a very unique and close bond that none of the other disciples would have been able to understand. But, that’s a lesson for another day!

Six days before Jesus goes to Jerusalem for the last time he spends more time with Lazarus and his sisters. Clearly, the sisters felt confortable enough with him to just let it rip when he finally shows up at their door. Try to put yourself for a moment in their shoes. Your close friend has an amazing gift for healing. Because you are good friends, he has pledged to always be there for you. So when your beloved brother is taken suddenly and dangerously ill, the first and best thing you can think of is to call your friend. You are immediately a little relieved. You have done something to make the situation a bit less scary, and help is on the way. But your brother dies anyway because your friend never shows up. You have the funeral. You are at home afterward grieving, trying to figure out what to do next. Your grieving is not just about the loss of your loved one though. You are also angry and grieving that your so- called best friend never showed up. He didn’t even care enough to come and try to save your brother. Now…4 days after you called, the day after the funeral, there is your friend standing in the driveway. It is little wonder that Martha dispenses with the usual formalities of greeting familiars and cuts right to the chase when she says very directly: “If only you had been here, this would not have happened”.

Every decision made for us and that we make for ourselves…from the day we are born shapes who we will become. “If only” doesn’t really matter because even if we could have a “do over”, we can never get back to the exact moment in time, in the exact place, with all the same considerations and make a different decision. We are where we are, because this is where we are supposed to be. We are who we are, because this is who we are supposed to be.

I could say that perhaps the lesson we gain from this story is that we should not fear death. But it is human nature to be afraid of the unknown. Since God made us humans, I think it safe to assume that human emotions are expected. I could say it is meant to make us believe in miracles. But there are plenty of miracles everyday that could do that. Ecosystems are miracles. Babies are miracles.  Medicine is a miracle.  The Red Sox winning the World Series was a miracle. There is no shortage of miracles to make us believe. I could say that the point of the story is to say that if you believe in Jesus, everything will be OK. Your loved one won’t die. But we know that is just not true. All of us I suspect have grieved at the death of someone we knew and loved or at least understand on some level that the death of the human body is a natural and expected occurrence. So maybe…we have to look a bit deeper to get what the real point of this story might be.

Maybe this story is about timing. Our sense of timing guides us…and when things don’t happen the way we think they should or when they should, we shake our fist at God and say “If you had been here”. Think of all the natural disasters that have occurred in the past 10 years. It would be quite easy for someone experiencing any one of those to shake their fist at God and say “if only you had been here”! But  maybe our understanding of time is so limited we can not really grasp God’s sense of time and so we can’t really understand at all why things happen the way they do…both for good or bad. Choosing to believe that things happen randomly is one way to go, but it raises too many obvious questions for me.

Maybe the story is about faith. Martha had absolutely no doubt that things would have been different if Jesus had been there. She never asks Jesus to change the outcome. She just makes a simple statement of faith. “If only you had been here, things would be different now”. We can make that same assertion. If Jesus were here now, things would be mightily different. If Jesus had been here yesterday, they would definitely be different today.

There was another time in Jesus’ ministry when he acted without regard to our concept of time. This was at the wedding of Cana. There, his mother had evidently already figured out that he was not your garden variety 30 yr old man. When she reports to him that the wine had given out, he says “What concern is that to us? My hour has not yet come.” She does not overtly ask him to do anything, just as Martha never says “fix this”.  But I expect that there was at least some understanding on the part of Jesus, that he was in fact expected to do something, whether or not he was ready. His response is  rather extraordinary when compared to what the situation calls for. He could have sent his disciples to get more wine. That would have saved the day as well. But instead he performs a remarkable miracle. Now let’s imagine for a second the whole array of possible miracles available to him. He could have put them into a deep sleep, and when they woke, they would  have no memory of running out of wine. They would remember the wedding and what a lovely time they had. The father of the bride would have been spared embarrassment and the day saved. But was that his goal? He could have taken over the reception, used it as his pulpit and given a lecture about the evils of alcohol. Everyone would have put down their drinks, and the day might have been saved. But was that his goal? You see my point. Here at the beginning of his ministry, he is making a very public statement about who he is and what his role is and will be. You may also note, that he doesn’t seem too happy about the circumstance. He seems in fact a bit cranky that his mother has brought this news to him; perhaps because this is the moment of truth for him. Perhaps this in when he fully understands himself and his relationship with God.

In today’s story he is at the end of his ministry and he mirrors the wedding feast miracle with something even greater. It is important to note that each of these miracles speak to people in a profound way. Each of them involves very human FEARS. The fear of embarrassment or humiliation is over turned when the wine appears from water. At the tomb of Lazarus the very human fear of death and the pain of grief is over turned. So, is the goal of these miracles to save the day? Does Jesus wander about singing that little ditty “Here I come to save the day”? Or is the goal of these amazing miracles something altogether different? I would suggest that his goal is NOT to save the day, not to save us from humiliation and death but rather to declare that we do not need to fear them.

Now I won’t try to convince you that Jesus did this as naturally as we want to believe. I think we would all like to see Jesus as a Superman of sorts. We’d like to think that raising Lazarus was a walk in the park; all in a days work.  But if you read the Gospel very carefully, you will see some very strong language that we don’t often see in the Gospels. The actual translation reads that he was “convulsed within by emotion”. And it says this twice. Clearly, the author is trying to relay something important. If he was just sad at the loss of his friend Lazarus, I don’t think the author would have chosen to tell us this in such strong language. Even when we hear the story of the money changers at the Temple a few days after this, we are only told that Jesus is angry and that he physically turns over the tables of the moneychangers. We are not told that he is crying in his rage, or that he is convulsed with emotion. So clearly we are meant to get something more from this.

So…why do you think Jesus is so emotional? Certainly he knows that he will be able to raise Lazarus. Why is he so upset? I think it is because he suddenly realizes that he will have to face this very thing as well, and it is coming faster and sooner than he wants. So this miracle for Lazarus and his sisters, is also in a sense, Jesus’ own very personal and very human struggle with death. You may or may not know…that the “agony in the garden” does not appear in this gospel. Some scholars have suggested that this is because this scene outside the tomb of Lazarus pretty much says it all.

The only other time Jesus cries in the Gospels is as he is entering Jerusalem for the last time and sees the destruction of the Temple. In this scene, he recognizes without doubt, what will become of him in the next few days. The story from the Gospel we will read next week tells it in great detail so I won’t go there today. But I do want to point out that even Jesus utters the phrase  “if only” as he is riding into Jerusalem. So this very human need to second- guess ourselves or someone else, the need to re-imagine the outcome is present even in the Son of Man. He has been preaching and teaching for 3 years or so and now the time is come for him to be “glorified” and he is shaking with fear. Perhaps for an instant he realizes, as a human, that our preoccupation with time, and God’s creation of time are naturally opposed.

We are bound by our sense of time…just as Lazarus was bound for burial. Jesus unbinds him and gives him life again. Is this just a metaphor or is it real? Does it matter? Is it any less powerful as a metaphor than as an actual occurrence? 

Next Sunday we begin Holy Week. We will re-enact Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem at our Palm Sunday liturgy and hear the first reading of the Passion Story. I would like you to remember some of what we have learned today as we begin that journey. The crowds will be gathered, shouting and cheering, not because we have come on our own to the understanding that Jesus is the Son of God. We will have gathered actually to see Lazarus…the one whom he has raised from death. We have come to see if it is really true. Does he look the same? Is he a ghost? Was he really dead or just asleep? By the end of the day, we will have run away in fear. Despite having seen one who has been raised, and the one who will completely conquer death, we will allow our fear to govern our behavior, our thinking and our hearts. And we will all walk out that door next week and say “if only I had known”.

__________

Today's lectionary: Ezekiel 37:1-14, Romans 8:6-11, Psalm 130, John 11:1-45 

4 Lenten Meditation

Lenten Reflection Week 4: Loneliness and Solitude
April 3, 2011
The Rev. J.W. Messer

Loneliness and Solitude. Not two words that we, as a society, lift up and praise, but are very important in our faith journey.  Loneliness can be the longing feeling for another in a state of separation. Solitude is when one is placed in a state of separation.  It’s hard not to relate to these feelings at least once in our lives, and it is one way we can connect with the man who had been born blind in today’s Gospel reading.

For me when I am in moments of deep loneliness, such  as when I am grieving the loss of a loved one at a funeral or when I find myself by myself standing on a mountain top in prayer and in solitude, it’s hard for me not to connect with a song that seems to transcend both these moments. When I read today’s Gospel and read these words from the blind man:  “I was blind, now I see.”, it was  pretty hard not to hear the same song “ Amazing Grace” in my head.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,   
that saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
was blind, but now, I see.

How can grace transcend the pain I was going through at this funeral, or the stillness I was in on the mountain? How can God’s amazing grace transform me from lost to found and blind to seeing? How can we explain this state of mind and feeling when it truly overwhelms us? It is in the same way that we do not know that we are a wretch, lost, or blind until we are touched by grace and realize we are saved, are found, and can now see clearly. Grace is an awe inspiring gift that is hard to explain. Yet in the last three Sunday’s Gospel readings, three different people in different states of being got a new insight of what grace is.

                People like Nicodemus (John 3), the Samaritan Woman at the well (John 4), and the man born blind (John 9) are each examples of inadequate discipleship. It is only once they come to faith that they then want to come to a deeper understanding of God’s grace.  It is trying to understand a new feeling when you are limited in your experience and in vocabulary or experience--It’s like trying to explain the ocean to someone who has never seen it.

                The man born blind was alone in his darkness, and when he was given his sight by Jesus, he still found himself alone. When he was asked by the Pharisees how the miracle happened, he knew the physical act that took place but it was harder to explain what actually happened.  The same applies for us; there are times that unless another person has been in the same boat as us, it’s hard to explain what we are feeling or going through. And each situation and person’s perspective is different. The thing is, when we are before God in our weakened state we are alone in that no matter how much someone loves us or is supporting us; it is always between God and us.  And how we experience grace is a unique experience to each person.  Sometime our moments of experience do come when we are alone, in either our solitude or our loneliness, but it is in those times when we are offered the chance to see when we once before were blind. 

4 Lent 2011

The Rev. Julia W. Messer
4.3.2011 Forth Sunday in Lent-- Year A-RCL1 Samuel 16:1-13, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:8-14, John 9:1-41

The man born blind...and Perspective

Children’s Chapel send off story:

Today’s gospel reading is about Jesus healing a blind man and trying to help those around him get a better understanding of who he was. Jesus was trying to offer them a clearer perspective—perspective means a way of seeing things. For example, let’s say you want to have a cookie before dinner. You want the cookie because you’re hungry. The way your mother sees it is that it is too close to dinner and you might not eat all of your dinner if you eat a cookie first. Your brother might see it as unfair because if you ate that cookie you would have more than he does. And the way your dog sees it is that he is hoping you do eat the cookie and the crumbs fall on the ground so he can eat it all up. One cookie, but 4 different ways of seeing it—or as we say, four different perspectives.

So in today’s chapel, be sure to listen to how people see things and how their perspectives are different.

~~~

You may not know this about me, but I love soccer. I’ve been a player, a fan, an assistant coach for a boys JV team, and a soccer referee for over half of my life. And being a referee isn’t easy…you would be surprised at how many people shout at us during a game that we must be blind or deaf. It’s true--how many of us have at some time yelled at a game or even on a TV screen “REF, come on! That was a foul! What are you-- blind?!”

     Sometimes referees just don't see things correctly, even when they are right beside the play. With the gift of instant replay that offers numerous different angles, it might be revealed that the referee actually called the right play. And then again sometimes the refs are watching too much and miss a foul. And let’s face it, as players, as fans, and as coaches, we are horribly biased towards our own team. When we see our team commit a foul, we aren’t going to actually shout out “Hey ref, we’re the ones that fouled!” Referees are there to offer an unbiased perspective which can shed new light on a situation, and they are right there in the mud with the players, meeting them exactly where they are at that moment in time.

     Perspective. It can make a world of difference to us when we change how we see an event or how we respond to it. Whether it is a hidden picture that is suddenly seen or hearing what the other person had to say about a situation, our perspective can suddenly shift when “we get it”.

     I feel the same applies to the readings today as well as the Lenten season in general. The “Lord does not see as mortals see” (1Sam16) and God does not act how we might expect Him to. God didn’t act the way the Israelites thought they would see God’s actions. Jesus did things that people thought he would not—like healing people on a Sabbath after Sabbath, which we hear about again in today’s reading.

     I love the conversation between the once blind man, the Pharisees, and Jesus when Jesus tells them that he will make those who do not see, may see, and those who see, may become blind. Then the Pharisees actually wonder “Are we blind?” Talk about trying to figure out what is and what isn’t!  In this situation Jesus is like a referee, in that he was right there where they were, trying to offer a clearer perspective of God and God’s grace.

                                                         

   When the Pharisees wonder, “Are we blind?”, Jesus tells them that “If you were blind, you would not have sin." But now that you say, ‘We see’ your sin remains.”

Sounds a little confusing, but what Jesus was trying to convey was that if you cannot see what you are doing is sin, then you aren’t in the right perspective to see what is really going on.  If you do not realize your eyes are shut, then how can you know they are opened?

 

   The Pharisees sinned because they knew the word of God -- they knew the loving and forgiving God that revealed Himself to Moses and the other prophets -- yet they could not see they were not showing this love and forgiveness to God’s people. They condemned anyone who followed Jesus, threw them out of the synagogue, and looked down on a blind man and his family because he was born differently from them.

Yet it was because this man was different than the others that he truly got to experience the world. While he had to rely on other’s generosity to help him live, he got to see the world in its fullness-- in its cruelness and its generosity. What the man knew of the world was through the ways he experienced it… through sound, taste, feel, and smell -- this is how he ‘saw’ the world. Yet Jesus went out and found this blind man, and made the first move. Jesus initiated healing for this man, by getting down into the mud then placed it on to the man’s eyes. But the man also had to be willing to go and wash in the water of Siloam (which means being sent). The man had to be willing to be sent in faith that he would be healed. The man first heard Jesus before he saw him, yet that was enough to make this man take the first steps in faith. In the Gospel reading, it doesn’t say how far away the pool was from where he was, nor does it say how many obstacles the man might have run into, but we can infer that he persisted in the hope of being healed.

     Once there, the man was healed and was given a new perspective on life -- one where he could not only see, but also experienced God’s grace first-hand. It only took this one experience for this man to know that he wanted to become a disciple of Christ. And as a follower of Christ, he would still get persecuted--but he already knew what that was like. Life wasn’t magically going to be perfect for him, but he received a gift far greater than physical sight. He was given spiritual sight and could see and he received God’s grace.

     Certainly there are moments in all of our lives when we grapple for God’s guidance and we may feel blind. Previously we might have had spiritual clarity and life seemed bright and clear. Then we may have found ourselves, or find ourselves, struggling to discern God’s voice in the crowd around us. Or we may find ourselves like the Pharisees, who were intelligent people, yet refused to see the miracles that occurred right before their very eyes! A man born blind could see! They couldn’t accept this because Jesus healed on the Sabbath and must therefore be a sinner too. The way they thought God interacted and the way God DID interact, did not fit into their neat little box of how they understood God.

     Yet God calls us to open our eyes to the presence of Him in our lives. God call us to look at our lives from the perspective that He calls us to live each moment with meaning and love. When we hear God’s voice and go where He calls us, we might have our eyes opened to new wonders or God’s grace. Sometimes, God may call us to a place that makes us to roll up our sleeves and get in the mud and grime, and meet others which also let’s God meet us there in the dirt of life.

     We may be blind at times, or think we are unable to truly see what is going on around us, but maybe just maybe, we are in the perfect position and have the perfect perspective to be able to see God’s work in the world.

What I think best describes the formerly blind man’s perspective is best said by theologian, Joni Erickson Tada. She wrote wrote, “Faith isn't the ability to believe long and far into the misty future. It's simply taking God at His Word and taking the next step.”

        +  In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.+