Reflectionary

These Little Ones

"Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet's reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple -- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward." (Matthew 10:40-42, NRSV)

This was the church's week to provide a meal for the homeless shelter in nearby College Town. It may be one of the activities of the church that a reduced membership will curtail. How far can we spread ourselves? I wonder if simply driving the food on the round trip will become a hardship as gas gets more and more expensive? Will we mail a check instead of delivering a crock pot?

For it's not like the meals at the soup kitchen in City By the Sea. College Town's shelter is providing meals to residents who sit down together for a meal provided for the community to share. It's not a cafeteria event, 175 people served by dozens of volunteers. It's beautifully personal. It shows caring at a simple and uncomplicated level.

Unless of course you're the person fixing the meal! I am pretty hopeless at meals for big groups, with the possible exception of Thanksgiving, which I have mastered. I can come up with something for 4th of July, too, but Thanksgiving is my best meal, the various side dishes around the big bird in the roasting pan, the pies that can be made a day ahead. I find myself wondering, is there some other solution to providing the meal, because I worry that the person who organizes our efforts ends up paying for store-bought meals out of her own pocket when her work schedule prevents her from cooking and no one else signs up to help.

Somehow we must remember why we do these things, and I guess this brings us to the question of what Jesus meant by a reward in verse 42. We'll get our reward in heaven, right? These acts will bring us through the gates safely? Saying the right things to the right people, even though those people are not the "right" people socially, will get us that reward?

But I am less interested in heaven than I am in the kingdom of God, here and now. It's as tangible as the cup of cool water sitting beside me as I type this, if we will live into it. What is the reward? The reward is being part of something happening now, of a realization of the commonwealth of God's love. The reward is in the feeling of joy, the same feeling you get when you're very hot and very dry and only water can quench your thirst, the feeling you get when you raise that glass or that bottle to your lips and vitality returns. Oh! It feels good.

I don't mean to suggest that doing things for others, that providing hospitality or assistance or even love and care will always feel as sharp and clear and necessary as a cold drink of water on a hot day. Sometimes those things feel like the ultimate in slogging, like walking through a swamp. But Jesus is putting us in touch with something simple, reminding us that, yes, there are rituals we observe that mean something and practices we employ that mean something, but that we are making it too complicated. Share the dipper with the thirsty child or the Good News with the lonely person. Share the love of God in the simplest of gestures, even the little ones.

For #1 Son: Do Not Worry About Tomorrow

(In a moment of high preacher irony, the text that has meant the most to me all my life is on the calendar for tomorrow simply because we had such an early Easter, and it may be years before it reappears as Epiphany 8, but I will not be preaching it, as we are headed to that Non-Contiguous New England State to see #1 Son graduate tomorrow morning. The famous Commencement speaker, whose presence means we will also be joined by the Secret Service, will probably not address this text, either, but it really would make a great topic for a Commencement Address.)

Matthew 6:24-34

6:24 "No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.

6:25 "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

6:26 Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?

6:27 And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?

6:28 And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin,

6:29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.

6:30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith?

6:31 Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?'

6:32 For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.

6:33 But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

6:34 So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today."

So...

Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.

This is not my nature. I guess you know that, since you and your brother often refer me to the Onion headline "Area Mom Freaking Out For No Reason Again." My nature is to fling myself headlong into the multitude of possibilities for the future and to worry creatively and almost aggressively about each and every one. Over the years I've spent many hours pondering these words from the gospel, and I hope some of my thoughts will meet you where you are today. It's a collection of sayings rather loosely tied together, but that only makes it more like most graduation speeches, which try to pack a lot of advice about living into a very small package, thought usually larger than these verses. I'll try to follow their flow.

First, the passage cautions you to be clear about who you serve.

When you make decisions about your life, who are you trying to serve? The gospel gives you a choice, God or wealth, but it's not that simple, really. I would say that God stands for the things we are truly called to be while wealth stands in for not just money but the standards of the culture and the demands of other people. You are an artist, an actor. By your very nature you are counter-cultural, just as the people following Jesus were in the beginning. They walked away from what other people expected and took on a journey that led no one knew where. Discipleship begins with an impulse toward authenticity, and so does the creative life.

It sounds selfish, I fear. I remember my grandmother, when I made a choice she didn't like, saying snappily, "Suit yourself!" Her tone said, "And don't come crying to me when it doesn't work out!"

I want to tell you something different. If you're trying to please someone else, you'll end up pleasing no one. If you're working to acquire things or status, the way you collect prizes in a video game, you will find those achievements lack any sort of deep satisfaction. Yes, it's convenient to have a cell phone or or a laptop, and I certainly hope the day will come when you buy your own and it's not my responsibility anymore. But if you know who and what you are serving, if you are clear about that and can find a way to live into it, the rest won't matter.

Hear what I am not saying. I am not saying the rest will come to you, I am not saying that if you follow your heart you will get the small electronics, too. I am saying that whether you have them or not will not matter if you are serving the truth of who you are, of who God made you to be.

The second lesson of this passage is "Take your time."

One of the things worry does is speed us up, getting our thoughts spinning and our feelings rising and plummeting, making us feel out-of-control when really the only catastrophe is in our minds. You are an actor, and you've studied singing, too, and you know the power of breath. Without it, you cannot do your work! Without it, you cannot take your time. Slow down and breathe. Find your center and imagine the next step in your life the same way you work through the scenes in a play.

Collaborate with yourself, including your fears but not letting them take the lead. You may sympathize with them, as you would with a weaker performer, but do not let them be the focus. Find a way to work around them, the way you work with a scene partner who cannot meet you fully. Your fears are part of you, but they are not all of you. Take your time and work with them and see if, by attending to them, you haven't given them all they needed.

Third, "Know your beauty."

When you were a baby, my mother held you in her lap and said, "He has dancer's feet." I know it's been years since you took a dance class, but watching you scale the scaffolding in "Big Love," I saw that big, graceful cat who lives within you, whose paws move effortlessly, not needing to think about where to land the way most people have to think about their feet. You have a way of moving gracefully that you probably cannot see yourself. Employ that flexibility, because it is truly beautiful.

If your body is agile, how much more agile is your mind! I am continually amazed at the things you remember and the way you form ideas and the ease with which you coordinate them. Grace, flexibility, ease, intelligence--oh! and humor! You are so funny! From the earliest times in your life you have combined an oddly driven solemnity with a wicked twinkle in your eye. You know what matters, and you know what needs a hole poked in it, and you even recognize them when they appear together. That's a gift.

Fourth, "Seek ye first."

I'm cutting the phrase short deliberately. My idea of the kingdom of God, of God's commonwealth of love, is one in which enough people have found themselves to make a better world, a world in which all people have that opportunity. Try and find yourself, even when you don't like what you see at first. Am I holy and committed or am I driven and selfish? Or am I both, one might ask? How does one inform the other? When does the good quality so rule me that it becomes a bad one? How can I nurture the seeming weakness into its opposite strength?

We are full of these opposing energies. The important thing is to know with what we are working, to become aware of the limitations and the opportunities that are simply part of who we are.

Finally, as my old favorite King James Version of this passage would say, "Sufficient to the day." Do not worry about tomorrow, or next fall or next year, my dear one. This will all sort out in time, and to put too much emphasis on them now will only take away from the beauty of this day. Your little sister, in her concert a few weeks ago, sang a setting of another text from scripture: "This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it."

As your mother, I rejoice in this day, a culmination of many years of your work and my own, a snapshot of a young man about to enter the adult world, ready or not. And the truth is, we are seldom ready for what is coming next, whether or not we have worried about it. Life continues to surprise us, with amazing delights and terrible disappointments and even easily-managed transitions that we never expected. It may not feel like it's possible now, but I believe you will make the next leap of life gracefully, authentically, perhaps nervously, but most of all in the fullness of who you are today, this day, dear one, that the Lord has made.

Where Were the Angels?

(Lent 1A Matthew 4:1-11)

"If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is       written, 'He will command his angels concerning you,' and 'On their hands they will bear       you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"
(Matthew 4:6, NRSV)

Satan speaks to Jesus, tempts Jesus, and I wonder, where were the angels? We know they could not have been far away, for soon they would arrive to wait upon Jesus, the trials of this temptation over and behind him, the forty days of mind-altering fasting behind him.

Was it hard to stand by and do nothing?

I have a 12-year-old daughter, and when I listen to her talking about the world in which she travels, the world of Japanese comics about boys who kiss each other and the girls who like to read them, of trying to define "emo," of 7th graders who declare they are bisexual and of pink fuzzy handcuffs for sale at the 7-11 in honor of Valentine's Day, I would love to swoop in and "save" her from facing the challenges. After all, she is my special child, my baby, and I want to protect her. I want to preserve her from harm. I want to set her on a high mountain top where nothing will soil her.

Does that make me a frustrated angel? Or am I the one with the real tempter's power, the one who can say to her, "Oh, the world! Never mind about the world! Come away with me and separate yourself from the struggles and questions!"

Real angels sit by and wait. They watch and see. They smile when the challenges are met, and then they wing their way in to restore the soul from its battle. They do not interfere before the time is right.

Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him. (Matthew 4:11)

Oh, that Peter

(Transfiguration Sunday A, Matthew 17:1-9)

I don't do a lot of instant messaging, but there are a few friends I keep up with via Google Chat. Recently the "smiley" feature has been improved, and I suddenly saw myself looking at a "blockhead" smiley in response to something I typed that was not so smart, but well-meant.

And as I read this gospel lesson, I want to send Peter one of those smiling blockheads. There he is, up on the mystical mountain with his friends and his teacher, and they are in the middle of an amazing spiritual experience, a manifestation of Elijah and Moses, the transfiguring of Jesus who is suddenly shining like the sun and dressed in "dazzling white."

Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." (Matthew 17:4, NRSV)

O-kay, then. No matter how I read this story, no matter the gospel, this is the idea that grabs me. In the midst of all this spooky revelation, and there is more to come, Peter is trying to concretize it.

How human! How Peter-like! How bloody literal-minded!!!

And yet who can blame him for wanting to stay where heavenly lightning seems to be striking?

A moment later he will be cowering on the ground with his friends after hearing the voice of God:

While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. (Matthew 17:5-6)

Well, who wouldn't be? We want a revelation from God, right up until we get one, usually. We're on the edge of something marvelous, we have a sense that THE TRUTH WILL BE REVEALED, and then we get more than we could have imagined, more than we are prepared to take, to hear, to see, to metabolize.

And so I picture them with knees of jelly, those disciples, as they were coming down the mountain, stomachs astir, minds trying desperately to grasp the details that we know someone held onto, because this story became part of our tradition. If I had been among them, I'm sure I would have been thinking, "Wait until I tell Sally! She'll help me understand what happened!" Just telling her will help, I would think.

But that is not to be, and this is one of the points of this story that scholars perhaps prefer to discuss, because it's less mystical:

As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about       the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." (Matthew 17:9)

Tell no one. Tell no one. Poor Peter, ready to develop the mountaintop with retreat homes for long-lost prophets! Tell no one.

So he came down the mountain, and he told no one, not right away. And when he got his right mind back again, when the Resurrection had taken place and the fear of Good Friday was behind him, he built a church.

Immediately they left--

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea for they were fishermen. And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Immediately they left their nets and followed him.

As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. (Matthew 4:18-22)

Immediately, they left---

After a nightmare about moving, it's on my mind how difficult it is to leave a place, usually. My parents have been gone for 10 and almost 15 years, but I still dream from time to time about having to sort out their household, and in every dream I am on a deadline.

James and John, immediately they left, and followed him.

Last night I dreamed I was with my first husband and younger versions of our children, and we had to leave the place we were living, and we had to be out by a certain time which was only minutes away, and there were still so many things to pack, the task felt similar to Cinderella's assignment to sort trough the lentils. What did we really need? and how would we carry it all? and where were we going?

What did we really need? When you are moving, there is more to it, usually, than what you need. There are things you want as well, and in my dreams there are often sentimental items that need special packing materials. Do I need those things? Or the feelings that go along with them? Probably not, but the thought of being cut off from them, the fear of it, generally plays an important part in those dreams.

How would we carry it all? In last night's dream, there was no truck or van. We seemed to be leaving with only what we could carry. In that case, there was no doubt, we could not bring it all with us. Toys and small objects and clothes not on our backs would be left behind as surely as large pieces of furniture. I wondered what would happen to them, considered the position of the landlord, or whatever person might come in behind us, left with the mess of our lives, unpacked and unsorted.

Zebedee stood in the boat, alone, with the half-mended nets.

Where were we going? It wasn't clear in the dream, and it wasn't clear to James and John, either. Did one of them feel the impulse more strongly and the other follow him more than Jesus? Had they had it up.to.here. with Dear Old Dad, and were they looking for an opportune moment to flee? Or did they truly feel the same calling in the same moment with identical intensity?

We don't know. We only know they left. Immediately.

If you are like me, you fear their choice and envy it at the same time. Most of us stay behind in the unsorted rooms, at least on the physical plane, but the inner journey is open to us. Taking it may not necessitate abandoning the family business or leaving your mother's collection of painted china behind, but it might. You just don't know. And perhaps that is the scariest part of all.

Except for this part. You might be Zebedee. And I can't imagine a lonelier guy in the whole world then Zebedee when James and John "immediately left."  "Left" and "flee" easily mis-type, in the early morning, as "felt" and "feel." How do you feel if you put yourself in Zebedee's place? In the text, even the boat gets priority.