Chaplain's Blog

8/15/2010 Sermon: Stink Fruit

2010-08-15T18:10:00.000-07:00

Sermon: Stink Fruit

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Pentecost 12, Proper 15, Year C

Berkeley D. Johnson, III

Well, these are interesting lessons we have to consider today….

About a week ago, my Canterbury intern, Kris, (who is here today) asked me “so, what was up with those lessons from Sunday? They were brutal!” It was her first Sunday ever in an Episcopal Church, and God was raining down all manner of pestilence…and the prophet was announcing all sorts of doom…and remarkably, Kris didn’t run away never to return, but has actually come back for more.

So, what did I say? What “answer” did I give?

Well, I can tell you, I didn’t try to soften the message by saying “well that’s how people used to think God dealt with us for our disobedience, but we don’t think that way anymore” (well, apparently Pat Robertson does, but that’s another story). Nor did I otherwise try to dismiss it as not relevant to our lives today. And I will admit, I did need some time to think about it. But then, I remembered my training and formation, and wrestling with these passages, and I did try to put them in context and offer some version of the following:

In the first reading from Isaiah, the prophet starts off with what he refers to as a love song. He describes all the love and care that went into the planting and the preparation of the vineyard. But, it quickly becomes apparent that the hopes for this vineyard do not reach fruition, if you will. Rather, the fruit, which was supposed to be sweet, has become bitter.

Isaiah is announcing impending doom; the prophet is interpreting the present state of affairs; he’s saying, things don’t look very good, and he is letting the people know that if they don’t change, there’s trouble a’comin’. And I have to think the prophet’s message was no more popular or well-received in that time than it is today. Because the historical context is that Assyria is on the march, and will soon invade from the north. And the prophet needs to be able to explain why.

You see, I explained to Kris. God made two great covenants with the people of

Israel

: the first was with Moses at Sinai; that was a conditional covenant: if you obey me and keep my covenant, you will be my chosen people. But there was a second covenant as well, with King David, an unconditional covenant that will last forever.

So, the question for the people of

Israel

(and let’s put ourselves in their place) was: how do we reconcile God’s promise of an everlasting kingdom with the fact of an invading army where

Israel

has been, or is about to be, conquered and destroyed?

So, that is the context for this morning’s “wild grapes” reading.

Israel

is the vineyard, and God is removing its hedge (his protective barrier), and it shall be devoured. The prophet is not predicting the future so much as he is announcing what is going to happen and, perhaps more importantly, “why” it is going to happen, if things don’t change. In fact, if we look at the Psalm that follows, in verse 12, we see that very question addressed to God: “Why have you broken down its wall?”

And the response is? Because God expected justice and righteousness, but saw bloodshed and heard the cry of the oppressed. Because God expected sweet, delicious grapes, but got wild, sour, bitter – more literally - stink fruit.

So, no, it’s not my style to try and smooth over the difficult passages, but to enter fully into them. I just don’t see how it is helpful to try and minimize God’s anger at injustice. And I am reminded here of a great OT theme: the beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord.

So, deal with it we will. Now, maybe Jesus is going to clear up all this trouble for us in today’s Gospel passage. Surely, we can count on our savior, the Prince of Peace, to hold us gently like the Great Shepherd up there in the window behind me. Surely, Jesus is going to rescue us from this wrathful angry God, right.

Well, as it turns out, Jesus isn’t having a particularly good day either. So much for the Christian mythology that the OT is about the law and God’s anger and vengeance, but the NT is about God’s love and grace.

Today, Jesus, our Prince of Peace, announces “Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! And fire!…apparently. And he then goes on to enumerate the kinds of divisions, within the household, he has come to bring. And, I have to admit, I don’t remember ever seeing this line before where Jesus talks about “what stress” he is under. So Jesus is, or at least sounds, angry, impatient, displeased, and, in the modern vernacular, stressed out.

And so I ask myself, as I always do, since I want to be able to share it with you: where is the Good News in this? Especially when we’re being called “hypocrites.” Oh sure, you can sit around and talk about the weather, but you can’t interpret the present time!

Ouch! So, what do we do with this?

Well, most preachers, at least if the resources I looked at are any indication, avoid it completely and focus instead on the “great cloud of witnesses” in the second reading, which certainly is a more positive, pleasing image than a burnt-out, destroyed vineyard. But let’s regroup and see if we can figure out what is God upset about. Or better, I remember from reading Marcus Borg: what is God’s passion? God’s passion is justice. God is upset, in today’s lesson, about injustice: blindness in the face of suffering. Because, you see,

Israel

is no longer that desperate band of oppressed people wandering in the desert. No, by this point, their society has transformed, like so many others, before and after, into a society of haves and have-nots, and the gulf between rich and poor is widening.

And, to ask a similar question, what is Jesus’ passion? What is Jesus always talking about, pointing toward? The Kingdom, God’s kingdom. So, similarly, do we perceive the kingdom, God’s realm, here on earth? I mean, since we’re still here some 2000 years later, it’s kind of tough to argue that Jesus was speaking primarily of interpreting the present time as some sort of preparation for a blessed afterlife.

If God is upset about injustice on the earth, whether it is the neglect of the weak and the poor, the cry of the oppressed, or whatever modern parallel we care to name, and Jesus is articulating his displeasure with our inability to interpret the present time, then I think the evidence in the scales weighs in favor of an understanding that it’s what we do while we’re here, now, in this present moment, to overcome injustice, that ushers in God’s kingdom.

So, as best I can figure it, Jesus is stressed out because of our failure to recognize or interpret that it is now, in this present moment, that God’s divine love and justice has been incarnated, in Christ, here on earth, and that it is our task to continue to incarnate that divine love and justice, following the example of those listed in the 2^nd reading from Hebrews, here on earth, in and through our own lives.

John Dominic Crossan articulates this understanding in a way that works well for me, and so I will share it with you. It has to do with the apparent “gulf in sensibility” between Paul’s teaching and Jesus’ teaching. Paul writes that “flesh and blood cannot inherit [enter] the kingdom of God.”[i] But Crossan argues that, “for Jesus, anyone incarnating divine justice on earth was ‘flesh and blood’ entering the kingdom of God.”[ii] As Crossan says: “if you begin with Paul, you will interpret Jesus incorrectly; if you begin with Jesus, you will interpret Paul differently.”[iii]

I am sure, because we are in California, there have been many sermons these past two Sundays, both pro and con, focusing on Judge Walker’s ruling in the Prop 8 trial. And so it raises the question in my mind: does Judge Walker’s ruling serve to incarnate God’s divine love and justice here on earth? I believe for many, both Christian (myself included) and non-Christian, it does; and I know just as well for others, it does not. Indeed, for many, that decision seems to have stirred the very division that Jesus is talking about in today’s gospel reading.

Well, that’s enough for today, don’t you think? So, I’ll leave the interpretation of the Second Reading from Hebrews and the great cloud of witnesses to the Bible Study group that meets in the Boydston Room following this service, and close with this:

Gracious and loving God, please help us constantly to be aware of and to struggle with, our status as “haves,” that we might do as is pleasing to you to overcome poverty and injustice; be with us also in our status as “have-nots” as we struggle to overcome injustice, exclusion, intolerance, and in some cases, just simple lack of common human understanding and decency. Thank you for your prophets and for your Son, Jesus, who keep us on our toes, and through whom your message of divine love and justice has been incarnated, here on earth. And finally, let us remember, as we gather around your table, of our common purpose, as one body in you, to love you, to serve you, and to incarnate your divine love and justice, here and now, on earth, in this present moment, as you would have us do.

Amen.

[i] I Corinthians 15:50

[ii] Crossan, John Dominic, The Birth of Christianity, p. xxx (1998).

[iii] Ibid., p. xxi.

End Of The Year Thoughts...

2010-06-03T11:42:00.000-07:00

My end of the year thought is this:

One of the questions that came up recently at Bible Study was the following: if the Spirit reveals truth to us, or "leads us into truth" then why or how could devout, prayerful people be led into believing that slavery, or the exploitation/marginalization of women and children, was "o.k."? In other words, how is it that we end up with such divergent and varied understandings of what is acceptable to God and what isn't?

Fabulous question.

In meditating on this and seeking the Spirit's wisdom, an answer (i.e., there are other answers as well) that has come to me, in terms of looking at our Holy Scripture, is that the Spirit does not seem to impart to us understanding or information that we are not capable of hearing or grasping. In other words, the Spirit, it appears, does not generallycorrect bias, misguided cultural assumptions, or scientific misconceptions. That is why we can find passages in scripture that refer to wives as nothing more than the "property" of their husbands, and others that presume that God believes the earth to be flat (see the 38th chapter of Job, for example).

There is no hard and fast, black and white rule here, which is why I am couching my "answer." Prophets have certainly been led, through the Spirit's wisdom, to push the envelope in terms of opening the door to new and deeper understandings (which is precisely why prophecy is so often met with resistance). Viewed in this light, Galileo, Luther, MLK, Jr., and Rosa Parks, were all prophets, as they were open to the Spirit and they lived in a time and place where they were capable of hearing what the Spirit was saying and going where the Spirit was leading.

I believe that when we ask the Spirit for deeper understanding on a certain issue, we always receive what we are capable of hearing. Whether we grasp it or not, and whether it is the insight for which we were hoping, are separate matters....

The extent of the Spirit's power in all this remains a mystery. In other words, if the Spirit could correct all misconceptions, but doesn't, is that problematic? Similarly, if the Spirit cannot correct all misconceptions, then can the Spirit be said to be all-powerful? This is similar to the questions surrounding the issue of "if God is all-powerful, then why does evil exist in the world?"

In a campus ministry context, I am reminded of the student from another ministry who approached us and said that the Spirit had "put it in his heart" to organize a prayer group where "everyone" would pray together, presumably to help us overcome our differences, and asked if we would like to be a part of that. I asked him whether this would truly be a prayer group to include "everyone" or whether it was going to be limited to Christian groups. The student replied that he hadn't thought about it, but he "wasn't interested in praying with people who didn't pray to Jesus."

I wondered then: how is it that the Spirit could put that in his heart? Was it really the Spirit putting that in his heart?

If we consider the above answer, it would seem that the Spirit could certainly been involved in this student's prayer life and request, but also that the student was not in a place where he was capable of asking for or receiving/discerning the kind of response from the Spirit that might have opened him up to inviting people of other faith traditions to pray with him.

That's all for now. Hopefully, this discussion can continue. If it prompts any new insight or questions, please feel free to share.

Peace and blessings. Please know I am available (the Chaplain is "in") if you need me.

Berkeley

Chaplain's April Article

2010-03-21T11:44:00.000-07:00

Greetings SLO Deanery,

As we enter the spring quarter of our third year together, I am excited about the ministry we (with God’s help!) are building here in SLO. Although numbers-wise we are still in the growth phase of this ministry, we have come a long way in the two and a half years I have been here, and we have actually hit the target set by the SLO Canterbury board at the inception of this ministry in 2007.

This is on my mind at this time because this past month we had our annual diocesan higher-ed meeting where we divide the diocesan grant between the four campus ministries located within our diocese: Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo; San Jose St.; CSU Monterey Bay; and UC Santa Cruz. This was the third time I have attended this meeting, and it is clear to me now that our Canterbury ministry here in SLO has the most flourishing program, the strongest base of deanery support, and has become a model for the other diocesan Canterbury programs.

The reason I can say this confidently is that for the second year in a row, SLO Canterbury has received, by far, the largest portion of the diocesan higher-ed grant. Why did the higher-ed committee decide to award the highest amount to us? My response to that question, from a theological standpoint, would be to look at Jesus’ parable of the talents: we were given the most because we have been able to do the most with what we have been given.

This means a couple of things. First, it affirms that the way we built this ministry - relying on strong deanery support – has been crucial to where we are today. And second, it means that we need to speak up and encourage the other deaneries in the diocese to step up and similarly support their Canterbury programs if those ministries are to flourish as well.

With success comes responsibility, and I believe that even though we still have a long way to go as far as our own Canterbury program is concerned, we have reached the point where we need to reach out to the diocese and encourage and support the other campus ministries and their deaneries by letting them know not only what we’ve built here, but how we’ve built it.

The reason for this is that each of the campus ministries relies heavily on the annual diocesan grant for its existence, and in these economic times it is very possible that if cuts have to be made to the diocesan budget, the higher-ed grant would be in jeopardy. Therefore, we need to be vocal and we need to be visible so that the rest of the diocese is aware of what we are doing in our ministries to college students and young adults.

Canterbury ministries at universities across the country are transforming our church and our world. While in many instances our numbers are small, we are forming and sending young adults out to do God’s work in the world in ways that would not be occurring but for their involvement in these Canterbury programs. Through this work, we participate in the coming of God’s kingdom here on earth. It is remarkable and fulfilling work, and I am honored and humbled to be a part of it.

Yours in Christ,

Berkeley

Discussion on "Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner"

2010-02-04T12:16:00.001-08:00

Hello all,
I found this interesting. Please let me know your thoughts.

2010-01-26T12:58:00.000-08:00

2 Epiphany; Year C

January 17, 2010

Berkeley D. Johnson, III

Preaching after disaster

How does one do this?

How does a preacher (or, for that matter, a priest, chaplain, rescue worker, doctor, or nurse) offer comfort….

To a father who has discovered his child amongst the rubble and ruin;

To a mother who can’t get any food or fresh water for her dying infant child;

Or to those of us gathered here today, who can perhaps only imagine the horror of that ongoing reality every day, in many parts of the world.

I recall my first sermon – neatly written and typed out;

And I recall then going to a forum at my church on the Thursday evening before I was to deliver it;

A forum on the devastation in Honduras caused by Hurricane Mitch;

And realizing that I was going to have to rip up my sermon and start over,

Because THIS was what I now needed to preach about.

I recall preaching after the Tsunami;

And struggling with the same questions?

How do we not blame God for the Tsunami, for the earthquake, for the hurricane?

Yes, they are natural processes, but who created these natural processes?

If God created everything, then how is God not ultimately in some way responsible for the earthquake, for the Tsunami, for the hurricane?

“Or,” to quote the best line I have read this week, “is God somehow exempt from manufacturer’s liability questions?”[1]

We have seen a lot of lament this week? What is lament? Lament is daring to shake our fist at God, to fling our “why?” at God. Why is lament important? Because it is a means of deep communication with our Creator, and it opens the door to hope.

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? Why have you forsaken us, the people of Haiti must be crying? And, in case anyone is wondering, it’s not because they have forsaken God, as Pat Robertson (God’s self-appointed insurance defense attorney) suggested this past week.

But back to lament. As Christians we are hesitant to fling our “why?” at God, and it is to our spiritual detriment and impoverishment that we fail to do so; for even the gospels record our savior’s anguished “Why?” from the cross.

But as I said lament leads to hope. So where is the hope? How shall the people of God be sustained by God’s Word in this time of distress?

At our Canterbury service this past Wednesday, I read an article about the devastation caused by the earthquake in Haiti, which at that point was only 24 hours old

Our students were struck by the juxtaposition of the devastation, death, and ruin, and the praying, the singing, and the faith of the Haitian people.

Listen!

To this message of hope in today’s scripture and imagine the people of Haiti as they heard this reading today:

Isaiah 62:2-4

62 ²The nations shall see your vindication, and all the kings your glory; and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give. ³You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. ⁴You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you, and your land shall be married.

Jerusalem had been in ruins, but here was a message of restoration and hope! Could there be a more appropriate message for the people of Haiti?

But, what to do with this wedding feast in Cana?

And the fact that tomorrow is Dr. MLK, Jr., Day?

How do we tie together an earthquake, a wedding, complete with the miracle of new wine, and the social justice issues for which Dr. King stood?

At first glance, the Gospel story seems to be out of place today;

But listen!, Jesus objects to the timing as well: “My hour has not yet come.”

Yet Jesus provides what is needed.

And again, later in John, when the people follow him to the mountain, and there is nothing for them to eat, Jesus provides for them.

At first glance, the miracle of turning water into wine for a wedding feast might appear to lack the gravitas necessary to address the issues of the moment;

It hardly seems like a matter of life and death;

Or perhaps we should ask, could you turn that wine back into water?

But what kind of hope might it inspire today in those facing a seemingly impossible situation?

And what does it say to us about the ways Christ provides for us, no matter how impossible the situation may seem?

And finally on the eve of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Day, where are the justice issues in these stories of earthquake and wedding feast to be found?

We have heard the imagery of Isaiah, who tells of a God who will marry us and rejoice over us as one spouse rejoices over the other, and there is a wedding feast in Cana…all as a court here in California considers arguments on the constitutionality of a law that prohibits those of the same gender from marrying[2];

And next, much as there was following Katrina, there is a justice issue in the circumstances that led to how the people of Haiti were living – crammed together in flimsy structures that ultimately came tumbling down when shaken by the earth this past week, revealing the poverty in which these people were living, and the differences between the haves and the have-nots.

Earthquakes, Tsunamis, Hurricanes, Fires, Avalanches, pandemics – natural disasters happen everywhere – the rain falls, and the sun shines, on the just and the unjust – if an earthquake of this magnitude happens here, are we similarly affected? No! There is likely going to be loss of life and some destruction, but not on the scale of the utter devastation we have seen this past week;

And why is that? It is because we have the resources to build structures that can, in many instances, withstand earthquakes, and THAT is what makes Pat Robertson’s comments this past week so reprehensible. It is a matter of privilege, not faithfulness to God, that separates us from those suffering from this earthquake.

Barbara Rossing explained this in her lecture we listened to during the Lenten series last year, remember? What hurricane Katrina did was pull back the curtain on the poverty and neglect that the people in New Orleans were living in. In similar fashion, as a former seminary professor of mine noted this week, “Haiti has been horribly neglected for years by the world; the disaster of the earthquake has simply uncovered the sin of that neglect.”[3]

What can we do, we ask? What can we possibly do to help?

In that first sermon following Hurricane Mitch, I didn’t know about Episcopal Relief & Development;

But we have a built-in mechanism for giving to the relief effort in Haiti;

And it is something we can do.

Likewise, Paul’s lesson offers us a number of examples of who we are and what we can do, doesn’t he?

And it will take all of these gifts and more to restore the people of Haiti, our family in Christ;

But there is still something else we can do, because when Jesus’ hour does arrive, Jesus does not leave us without hope, but says….

“Do this”

Remarkably, as I gathered with our students on Wednesday and read that article to them, in it, the people of Haiti asked that we pray for them.

Yes, send water and food and rescue workers and medical supplies and personnel, but pray for us.

And when we gather to pray, we “Do this”

In remembrance of the One who provides for us, still, to this day.

For by “doing this” we are indeed doing something. Jesus has left us this meal we can share together, that connects us to Christ, and to one another. As Jesus says, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”

But, again, it is not lost on me that we are in John, and what does Jesus do at the Last Supper in John?

(Pause)

He washes their feet.

What is the message? Serve and care for one another.

So, as you watch people care for one another in the days and weeks and months ahead, picture Jesus washing the feet of the disciples.

Today’s Collect asks God to illumine us through Word and Sacrament.

How are we illumined by God’s Word and Sacraments? How can we shine with the radiance of Christ’s glory?

How do we share the abundance of good wine we have received? How do we take that wine and turn it into water for the people of Haiti?

Amen.

[1] A Christmas Tsunami Lament
A sermon by Nathan Nettleton, 2 January 2005 © LaughingBird.net
preached in response to the South Asia Tsunami disaster
Texts: Jeremiah 31:7-14; Psalm 147:12-20; Ephesians 1:3-14; John 1:1-18

[2] I am upset with myself here. The language and imagery in Isaiah and the gospel passage has been used to perpetuate hetero-sexism and is painful for same-gender couples to read/hear. I could/should have named it as such, but didn’t. Rather, I did some hermeneutical sleight-of-hand and made it gender neutral. Once again, the interests of LGBT people were “pushed to the side” – albeit due to a devastating humanitarian crisis; but it is not lost on me that I could have done more here to address this.

[3] Quote is from Dan Joslyn- Siemiatkoski on a Facebook post/thread with Kristen Nelson Krantz 1/16/10. Again, a missed opportunity here; I did not get into U.S. involvement in Haiti over the past several decades that has contributed to the predicament there. Similarly, I am aware of the hundreds of outside groups that have been present in Haiti for decades working to bring awareness to the world and assistance to the people.