Doing What's Expected
November 01, 2009
November 1, 2009 – All Saints' Day
Rev. Susan E. Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Micah 6:1-8; Luke 8:22-26
Today is All Saints' Day, a church holiday that is not nearly so famous as it's “Eve” - All Hallow's Eve, or Halloween. While traditionally, All Saints' Day has been a day to remember those who have died, it is important not to limit the idea of sainthood to the dead. While there is a legalistic meaning to sainthood in the Catholic church, and within that definition, being dead is a prerequisite for sainthood, outside the Catholic church sainthood is not limited to the dead. Indeed, most of the Apostle Paul's letter's in the New Testament were addressed to the saints, like: “To all God's beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints...” or “To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours....” or “to the saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Christ in Colossae....” There are other places in the Bible that refer to saints, but in general, the intent is the same: to describe people who are part of the gathered people of God, that is, people in the Church.
Now we all know that people in the church aren't perfect people, at least, those of us have spent any time at all in church know that. And if we didn't know that, reading Paul's letters to these early churches would certainly help us to understand that because his letters are full of practical advice to the churches, advice that makes it very clear that these are not perfect places nor are they peopled with perfect members.
So sainthood doesn't mean dead, it doesn't mean perfect, what else doesn't it mean? Sainthood seems to be like holiness, from the other name of today's celebration: All Hallows Day. And holiness has traditionally meant “set apart”, but if we think about the ministry of Jesus, who ate with tax collectors, an d other sinful, ordinary people rather than the priests of his day, it seems clear that Jesus isn't calling us to separate ourselves from the world around us either. Not dead, not perfect, not separate – but alive, very real, people engaged in the nitty-gritty of life in real ways – trying to please God, and responding to the challenges of life in a way that honors God.
How do we do that? People through the ages have wondered, and in the first reading today, the prophet Micah asks that same question: how should I please God? Should I bring animals to be sacrificed? Would even thousands of animals or tens of thousands of rivers of olive oil please God? Does God want us to sacrifice human beings? And the answer that comes is not intended to be understood as a new revelation: God has told you, O mortal, what is good: and what does the Holy God require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?
Just as in last week's reading from Deuteronomy that told us “Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away.... No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe....” Living God's way is not intended as something for extraordinary people – it is the way of life God intends and expects for us all. It is the life we are designed for. So what is it that we ordinary saints are supposed to be about?
We are about justice. It is the first thing among the expectations that the prophet Micah describes. Justice is a major theme in the Bible, and it's not just about what happens in court proceedings – it's more about ensuring that everyone is cared for – including the poor, the widows and orphans, and immigrants. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, again and again God describes a vision of a world where there is home ownership & health care & employment for all, where immigrants are welcomed, and an end to hunger and violence have been accomplished. Each of these is explicitly addressed in the Bible. Justice is about everyone having what they need. Working for justice is a mandate for all God's people – it's an essential dimension of faithfulness. In Luke's Gospel, when Jesus preaches for the first time, announcing what his ministry is about, he reads from Isaiah 61: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. And near the end of Matthew's Gospel, when Jesus talks about separating people into those who have done what is expected and those who haven't, he talks about those who have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the prisoner. His ministry, and his mandates, are about meeting the real, material needs of people. Justice also has to do with social institutions – it's how we engage with the structures in our world. We work for real change so that real people are less vulnerable.
The second thing Micah talks about is kindness, or mercy. The original Hebrew here is the world hesed which is often defined as “loving-kindness”. This is not niceness. This is a concept that again and again in the Hebrew Scriptures as a description of God. A Hasidic Jewish description of hesed is “the consistent, ever-faithful, relentless, constantly-pursuing, lavish, extravagant, unrestrained, furious love of our Father God!” Leaving aside the gendered language for a moment, this is a description of the dedicated, nurturing, faithful, sometimes-challenging love of a parent. We are to care about others in that way – wanting their best, giving them our best, sticking by them, and sometimes challenging them. This is how we are called to interact with each other – how we are to engage with individuals in our world. It's not always going to be convenient, or easy, but it's what's God expects.
Micah tells us that the God-designed life includes walking humbly with our God. Humility isn't a matter of abasement, it's a matter of being centered outside ourselves. That is, it's not about thinking less of ourselves, it's about thinking of ourselves less. When we have humility in a group process, we are open to what others say. When we have humility in our walk with God, that means it's not about us, it's about God. Our faithfulness isn't just about our own inner peace, or our life after death, it's about recognizing that God is the source and center of all life, and is the source and center of our own life, and that our deepest joy and satisfaction will come from ordering our life around the Holy One. This is pretty counter-cultural stuff in a world that says life is about our self-actualization, about pleasing ourselves, about making ourselves happy. But here's the deal – we were made for this. Whether you use traditional Christian language like “serving God” or more New Age language like “orienting to the energy of the universe” the fact is that we were designed to find meaning outside our own life, and that if we center our lives in our own satisfaction, we will be left with small lives. But if we center our lives in God, in the compassionate, relational energy that flows through all of life, our lives will be larger, and more harmonious with a greater whole. And our lives then derive the beauty of that larger life into which we've invested ourselves.
I'm pretty convinced that this is why sports are such a big deal for people. People want to identify with something larger, beyond themselves – that is to say, we yearn for transcendence. When our team wins, we are winners. Which doesn't, by the way, explain the particular spirituality of Cub fans. (Did I mention I was born in Philadelphia?) The joy and satisfaction that comes with being part of something larger is something that anyone who has ever been part of a winning team, a dramatic production, a choir, orchestra or band, or mission trip recognizes.
Think of it as if we were each a musical note. We could each sing our own tone, and be about our own key, and the result could be pretty ugly. Or we could find our purpose in a lar
ger work that transcends our own individuality, and thus be part of a larger melody, and harmony, and movement that becomes a work of great beauty. In fact, let's try it just for fun. Pick a note in your head. This is where it's really helpful that the choir is sitting among the congregation this morning. Choir members, I need your leadership on this because people are sometimes shy. Pick a note in your head, everyone, and sing it out. Ouch. Now if you all can sing this note, and you all sing this one, and you all sing this one....together now – we're on our way to real music.
Imagine how the world could be if we were all, listening for the whatever music God was making, and joined into that, rather than singing our own small song?
Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God – this is how we relate to the world, to each other, and to God.
Now how do we relate to ourselves? Let's look at our other story for that.
Jesus goes to Bethsaida, not too far from Capernaum. Folks bring a blind man to him and beg Jesus to touch him. Jesus takes the blind man by the hand and leads him out of town, and then takes some saliva, puts it on the man's eyes, lays hands on him and the man begins to see, though not clearly at first. Jesus lays his hands on the man again and he can see.
Are we willing to let ourselves be touched by God, and by other people? It often feels safer not to – after all, if we let ourselves be touched by other people, we might be find ourselves caring, we might find ourselves hurt, we might find ourselves vulnerable, we might find ourselves inconvenienced, we might find ourselves known. And if we allow ourselves to be touched by God, we might find ourselves.
And yet, if we look at Jesus as the one who was fully human – who embraced the fullness of his humanity, who allowed himself to experience the full depth of his humanity – Jesus indeed allowed himself to be touched by others, to touch others, and to be touched by God. And in the depth of those relationships, his divinity was revealed, and others realized the divinity within themselves as well.
And sometimes, as we let ourselves be touched by others and by God, we find ourselves seeing the world differently.
This is what sainthood is really about – doing justice, loving kindness, walking humbly with God, letting yourself be touched by God, and allowing God to shape the way you see. It's not extraordinary – it's the way we're all designed to live. It's what God expects, but it's entirely counter to cultural expectations, so it won't come naturally for most of us, an d may startle others. Caring for others may feel awkward, working for justice can be frustrating, walking with God is not always clear, and allowing ourselves to be touched by others and God can be downright disorderly. It can change our plans, change our lives, change us. Yet, despite all the inconveniences and occasional awkwardness, this is the messy, engaged, zestful life we're called to live, and in such a life, we will find ourselves most fully alive and most fully ourselves. May we be so. Amen.
Rev. Susan E. Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Micah 6:1-8; Luke 8:22-26
Today is All Saints' Day, a church holiday that is not nearly so famous as it's “Eve” - All Hallow's Eve, or Halloween. While traditionally, All Saints' Day has been a day to remember those who have died, it is important not to limit the idea of sainthood to the dead. While there is a legalistic meaning to sainthood in the Catholic church, and within that definition, being dead is a prerequisite for sainthood, outside the Catholic church sainthood is not limited to the dead. Indeed, most of the Apostle Paul's letter's in the New Testament were addressed to the saints, like: “To all God's beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints...” or “To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours....” or “to the saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Christ in Colossae....” There are other places in the Bible that refer to saints, but in general, the intent is the same: to describe people who are part of the gathered people of God, that is, people in the Church.
Now we all know that people in the church aren't perfect people, at least, those of us have spent any time at all in church know that. And if we didn't know that, reading Paul's letters to these early churches would certainly help us to understand that because his letters are full of practical advice to the churches, advice that makes it very clear that these are not perfect places nor are they peopled with perfect members.
So sainthood doesn't mean dead, it doesn't mean perfect, what else doesn't it mean? Sainthood seems to be like holiness, from the other name of today's celebration: All Hallows Day. And holiness has traditionally meant “set apart”, but if we think about the ministry of Jesus, who ate with tax collectors, an d other sinful, ordinary people rather than the priests of his day, it seems clear that Jesus isn't calling us to separate ourselves from the world around us either. Not dead, not perfect, not separate – but alive, very real, people engaged in the nitty-gritty of life in real ways – trying to please God, and responding to the challenges of life in a way that honors God.
How do we do that? People through the ages have wondered, and in the first reading today, the prophet Micah asks that same question: how should I please God? Should I bring animals to be sacrificed? Would even thousands of animals or tens of thousands of rivers of olive oil please God? Does God want us to sacrifice human beings? And the answer that comes is not intended to be understood as a new revelation: God has told you, O mortal, what is good: and what does the Holy God require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?
Just as in last week's reading from Deuteronomy that told us “Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away.... No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe....” Living God's way is not intended as something for extraordinary people – it is the way of life God intends and expects for us all. It is the life we are designed for. So what is it that we ordinary saints are supposed to be about?
We are about justice. It is the first thing among the expectations that the prophet Micah describes. Justice is a major theme in the Bible, and it's not just about what happens in court proceedings – it's more about ensuring that everyone is cared for – including the poor, the widows and orphans, and immigrants. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, again and again God describes a vision of a world where there is home ownership & health care & employment for all, where immigrants are welcomed, and an end to hunger and violence have been accomplished. Each of these is explicitly addressed in the Bible. Justice is about everyone having what they need. Working for justice is a mandate for all God's people – it's an essential dimension of faithfulness. In Luke's Gospel, when Jesus preaches for the first time, announcing what his ministry is about, he reads from Isaiah 61: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. And near the end of Matthew's Gospel, when Jesus talks about separating people into those who have done what is expected and those who haven't, he talks about those who have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the prisoner. His ministry, and his mandates, are about meeting the real, material needs of people. Justice also has to do with social institutions – it's how we engage with the structures in our world. We work for real change so that real people are less vulnerable.
The second thing Micah talks about is kindness, or mercy. The original Hebrew here is the world hesed which is often defined as “loving-kindness”. This is not niceness. This is a concept that again and again in the Hebrew Scriptures as a description of God. A Hasidic Jewish description of hesed is “the consistent, ever-faithful, relentless, constantly-pursuing, lavish, extravagant, unrestrained, furious love of our Father God!” Leaving aside the gendered language for a moment, this is a description of the dedicated, nurturing, faithful, sometimes-challenging love of a parent. We are to care about others in that way – wanting their best, giving them our best, sticking by them, and sometimes challenging them. This is how we are called to interact with each other – how we are to engage with individuals in our world. It's not always going to be convenient, or easy, but it's what's God expects.
Micah tells us that the God-designed life includes walking humbly with our God. Humility isn't a matter of abasement, it's a matter of being centered outside ourselves. That is, it's not about thinking less of ourselves, it's about thinking of ourselves less. When we have humility in a group process, we are open to what others say. When we have humility in our walk with God, that means it's not about us, it's about God. Our faithfulness isn't just about our own inner peace, or our life after death, it's about recognizing that God is the source and center of all life, and is the source and center of our own life, and that our deepest joy and satisfaction will come from ordering our life around the Holy One. This is pretty counter-cultural stuff in a world that says life is about our self-actualization, about pleasing ourselves, about making ourselves happy. But here's the deal – we were made for this. Whether you use traditional Christian language like “serving God” or more New Age language like “orienting to the energy of the universe” the fact is that we were designed to find meaning outside our own life, and that if we center our lives in our own satisfaction, we will be left with small lives. But if we center our lives in God, in the compassionate, relational energy that flows through all of life, our lives will be larger, and more harmonious with a greater whole. And our lives then derive the beauty of that larger life into which we've invested ourselves.
I'm pretty convinced that this is why sports are such a big deal for people. People want to identify with something larger, beyond themselves – that is to say, we yearn for transcendence. When our team wins, we are winners. Which doesn't, by the way, explain the particular spirituality of Cub fans. (Did I mention I was born in Philadelphia?) The joy and satisfaction that comes with being part of something larger is something that anyone who has ever been part of a winning team, a dramatic production, a choir, orchestra or band, or mission trip recognizes.
Think of it as if we were each a musical note. We could each sing our own tone, and be about our own key, and the result could be pretty ugly. Or we could find our purpose in a lar
ger work that transcends our own individuality, and thus be part of a larger melody, and harmony, and movement that becomes a work of great beauty. In fact, let's try it just for fun. Pick a note in your head. This is where it's really helpful that the choir is sitting among the congregation this morning. Choir members, I need your leadership on this because people are sometimes shy. Pick a note in your head, everyone, and sing it out. Ouch. Now if you all can sing this note, and you all sing this one, and you all sing this one....together now – we're on our way to real music.
Imagine how the world could be if we were all, listening for the whatever music God was making, and joined into that, rather than singing our own small song?
Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God – this is how we relate to the world, to each other, and to God.
Now how do we relate to ourselves? Let's look at our other story for that.
Jesus goes to Bethsaida, not too far from Capernaum. Folks bring a blind man to him and beg Jesus to touch him. Jesus takes the blind man by the hand and leads him out of town, and then takes some saliva, puts it on the man's eyes, lays hands on him and the man begins to see, though not clearly at first. Jesus lays his hands on the man again and he can see.
Are we willing to let ourselves be touched by God, and by other people? It often feels safer not to – after all, if we let ourselves be touched by other people, we might be find ourselves caring, we might find ourselves hurt, we might find ourselves vulnerable, we might find ourselves inconvenienced, we might find ourselves known. And if we allow ourselves to be touched by God, we might find ourselves.
And yet, if we look at Jesus as the one who was fully human – who embraced the fullness of his humanity, who allowed himself to experience the full depth of his humanity – Jesus indeed allowed himself to be touched by others, to touch others, and to be touched by God. And in the depth of those relationships, his divinity was revealed, and others realized the divinity within themselves as well.
And sometimes, as we let ourselves be touched by others and by God, we find ourselves seeing the world differently.
This is what sainthood is really about – doing justice, loving kindness, walking humbly with God, letting yourself be touched by God, and allowing God to shape the way you see. It's not extraordinary – it's the way we're all designed to live. It's what God expects, but it's entirely counter to cultural expectations, so it won't come naturally for most of us, an d may startle others. Caring for others may feel awkward, working for justice can be frustrating, walking with God is not always clear, and allowing ourselves to be touched by others and God can be downright disorderly. It can change our plans, change our lives, change us. Yet, despite all the inconveniences and occasional awkwardness, this is the messy, engaged, zestful life we're called to live, and in such a life, we will find ourselves most fully alive and most fully ourselves. May we be so. Amen.