Moses
was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led
his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There
the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he
looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I
must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not
burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to
him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said,
“Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you
are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father,
the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his
face, for he was afraid to look at God. Then the Lord said, “I have observed
the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of
their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to
deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a
good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the
Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the
Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how
the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my
people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I
should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will
be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when
you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this
mountain.” But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them,
‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his
name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said
further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” God
also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God
of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob,
has sent me to you’: This is my name forever, and this my title for all
generations.”
Adria
my wife and I were having lunch yesterday, it was her birthday, not that I take
her out just on her birthday though. After we finished lunch, while having an
espresso coffee, I suggested that it may be a good idea for her to take a
good look at her life and talk to me about how she sees this journey together,
I asked her that not without some trepidation. You see, three days before her
birthday was also our 23rdwedding anniversary. I am not a liberty
to discuss what she said, but I can tell you what I thought about my own
journey.
As
many of you know I was born in a single parent household, in communist Cuba, my
mother a former Quaker –from whom took the uncomfortable habit of truth
speaking- in the sixties with the triumphant Castro revolution became
a Communist.
One
night, me a curious ten year old, coming back from the movies, I stepped in to
our local Carmelite church open late that night. They were playing with fire in
the dark, only much later I discovered that it was the Easter Vigil. That night
my life changed forever, though I did not know it. I had what I believe now was
an encounter with the Holy. Time and space concerns were suspended; everything
was shinier, cleaner, clearer, and just crisp and focused.
Even
today 44 years later, I can go back to that memorable night, sitting on a pew
by the side of the altar, in that old baroque church of my neighborhood, not
having a clue about what was happening, but feeling completely at home. You
see, none of us is really a stranger to God. That very night God put me in on
journey that has had many heartaches, reversals and failures. Challenges that
normally will make my intellect and sense of self-preservation refuse to
accept. Yet, I am here, part of this motley crew of the Church of the
Redeemer, a very proud member and pastor.
Karl
Barth in his commentary to the Apostles Creed speaks of faith as Trust,
Knowledge and Confession. He says that Christian
faith is the gift of the meeting in which men [and women] become free to hear
the word of grace which God has spoken in Jesus Christ in such a way that, in
spite of all that contradicts it, they may once and for all, exclusively and
entirely, hold to His promise and guidance.
I
want to remind you that although I lay claim to the experience, for a good
portion of my life, I had no idea where I was going, nor became a priest until
my mid thirties. So my experience cannot be construed as what we normally
understand by vocation. I was called, but out of that meeting of the Divine, I
came away with the gift of faith. And that it is equally for all, for you and
me.
We
understand vocation in two very distorted ways; we think of vocation either
form a secular stand point –as a career- or from a religious stand point -a
calling to “monastic life” of sorts-. Both are less than the biblical
idea of vocation, of which Jesus’ raising Lazarus is a rich image [and a better
image]. Vocation is about being raised from the dead, made alive to the reality
that we do not merely exist, but are “called forth “to a divine purpose. To
disentangle “vocation” from its religious and secular misunderstandings, and
restore a sense of its original mystery and power, it should be disengaged from
modern assumptions. One does not simply “choose” a course of action, but one
responds to a summons—a summons that is often against the will of the one who
is called into service. (A . J . C onyers)
In
fact, Moses is summoned while performing his daily duties as a shepherd
and he is not ordained to sacred office, rather as a “layman” (if the
term could be applied) he is called to be the leader of the nation. We have no
scriptural evidence that this was a fulltime job, to use contemporary language.
God
summons you to enter into a journey with Him, a journey that is life itself. In
this encounter, He vows to be with you in all of it, the good, the bad and the
ugly. You, not as the spoiled child of an all-powerful being, but as having a
true friend and loving companion for the way, knowing that you will not use
this special relationship to manipulate Him in meeting your needs, real or
imaginary.
Moses
saw the burning bush; Paul reminds the unruly Corinthians that the people of
Israel were baptized in the cloud and the sea and they drank and ate from the
hand of God during the Exodus. All of this language speaks to us of sacrament.
I
was teaching liturgy in Cuba and my students asked me what was a sacrament, we
were in winter and the seminary was in the highest hill of the city, I opened
the great colonial window in my classroom to their protest, and I invited them
to see the old city of Matanzas with its variegated structures and colors and
people milling around, the bay, wide and green and the blue sky up above. I
said, a sacrament is a window into the divine. It speaks to us in many
different ways, its truth cannot be contained in words, human intellect cannot
comprehend it, and rather we can only contemplate it. The Greek word for
sacramentum is mysterion.
Father
Francisco went to the Holy Land this past summer and I asked him to bring me a
bit of water of the Jordan River, call me pathetic, but that is what I did.
Ever since when we renew the water in our baptismal font, I pour secretly a bit
of water from the River Jordan. I have asked myself why I do it, is it the
water from the Jordan River special in any way? Is it necessary for the
sacrament to be effective? I think the sacred attaches itself to places as it
does to our hearts, it is subjective by becoming objective, concrete, pointed
in someone or something, a fact that Moses founds about in this meeting with
the one who is called transcendentally I am.
At
our baptism we have been sacramentally put in touch with the Divine. I in fact
we, all the baptized, have experienced the sacred on our own skin, we have been
intimate with God, we all have been at Mount Sinai, we have been smeared on our
forehead with the same shine that the Shekinah, the Glory of God put in Moses
face. We all have crossed the Red Sea, We all have been at the banks of our
River Jordan, we have heard the call of John the Baptizer to repent and turn to
the Lord.
We
have received our summons, we been risen from the dead and given a new life, a
new heart instead of our heart of stone. When are we going to respond to our
true vocation? Today? Tomorrow? Perhaps wait a little bit until things get
clear with my wife/husband, with my job, with my life. How about now,
today, this morning?
Brothersand sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to theexample you have in us. For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I haveoften told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end isdestruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; theirminds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and it isfrom there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He willtransform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body ofhis glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject tohimself. Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joyand crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.
Many peopleadmired Jesus, but a few devoted themselves to him. Jesus after feeding thefive thousands was left in the cross with the smallest congregation we canthink of, his mother and his best friend.
Ash Wednesdaywe talked about confronting our mortality, dying as human beings, physicaldeath, last Sunday I talked about dying toself, dying to our most legitimateand imaginary needs of the ego. Dying to self is not a solitary enterprise, notone that we can achieve by our own means. What enables us to die to self is notin us.
During thetemptations of Jesus in the desert, in his rabbinical dispute with the devilJesus over and over responds placing his trust in God, rather that in himself.He surrenders the natural desire to resolve his own problems, precisely thecrux of the sin that the Devil offers him, and places his whole trust in God,most importantly, in the face of his extreme predicament.
It is in themoment of our greatest need, be that real or imaginary, beguiling and seductiveas it may be, when the world invites us to autonomy. To do our own thing. Tolive on our own, to live on our own like there is no need for God, or like Godis a superfluous cultural custom that can be dispensed with easily. The mirageis so perfect and so seductive, that repeatedly we fall for it.
In the HebrewsScripture, in the Book of Genesis we heard today that Abram’s faith (v. 6) hasbeen enabled by what God has done. God’s word makes Abram’s faith possibleindeed God creates faith; faith arises not from within Abram or by his ownresources.
The crux of theproblem of faith it is the power of that all that is real and immediate hasover our sensory system, faith as a response always seeks answers while itstruggles with doubts, faith is a permanent dynamic state, always responsiveboth to the world and to God, it is similar to what John Janka calls spiritualwindsurfing. However, George F. Kennan once wrote, "The truth is sometimesa poor competitor in the marketplace of ideas." It is “complicated,unsatisfying, full of dilemmas, always vulnerable to misinterpretation andabuse." But this does not stop the truth from being true.
When we cameinto a community faith through Baptism, we decided either for ourselves or bythe vicarious faith of our parents and Godparents that we were going to diewith Christ in his death and share in his resurrection, that we were going totravel together with a people who knows about pain and suffering, not alwayssure or clear about how to respond to it, but a people that will share storieswith each other of their common walk with God and a people that will try torestate their faith at every turn, at every challenge that life may throw atthem.
The church, isnot just people who has chosen to die to self, people who places their trust, thatis their faith uniquely in God, in spite of the tempting of the world, it is apeople who is willing to pay theprice of their free choice, their opting forthe Son of God.
No one but Dietrich Bonheoffer spoke like Paul today in this portion of his letter to the church in Philippi for the community of believers there, the church even in the first century was not just beset by anxiety, but content in findinga new accommodations in their new belief system that will allow them to be “religious “and moderately reasonable.They have found a way to ignore the true message of the Gospel of Jesus and kept themselves as admirers of Jesus, but not followers of Him who die for them..
AM I READY TO DIE? On The Occasion of Ash Wednesday
Friday, 19 February 2010
Working for this sermon I did stumbled upon a rap by Christopher Wallace also known as Notorious B.I.G., a famous rapper who was killed in 1997. Fifteen days after his death, Wallace's double-disc second album was released as planned with the ironic title of Life After Death and hit #1 on the Billboard 200 charts. Interesting enough the album cover has a child sitting on the floor with a heading Ready to Die.
It is a premature question to be raise to a child and yet is a the reality of our lives. The moment we are born we ready to die, since the only requirement is to be alive.
Our mortality I think is one of those greatest questions of life. Question that normally expand beyond the here and now and explore questions of meaning and purpusoe.
We are often afraid of disappearing in the darkness of sleep.
We are afraid that our stories, our relationships, the things we did and the ones that we fail to accomplish, all of it, becomes consigned to oblivion.
Our fear of mortality is one of the reasons why we build big and solid, large monuments to posterity, trying to live in peoples memories. This is why Presidents worried about their legacy in the last year of their period.
Our fear of mortality is the reason why we father or mother children, so through our genes we can perpetuate our blood line and with it, to perpetuate ourselves.
Even with the recent memories of the sugared story of thestable, shepherds, angels and wise men the lectionary move us quickly to thefirst chapter of John's Gospel and in doing so completely changes the vision ofthe birth of Jesus. It presents us with majestic phrases difficult tounderstand, the text seems more poetry than theological commentary. The passagereminds us that the child born in Bethlehem is both very God and true man. Itremind us that the manger of Bethlehem is only the earthly side of the bridgeto the eternal Christ. That what we worship is between the flesh (a representationof all earthly things) and the divine Word. Preparing for preaching today itoccurred to me that rather than to elucidate the meaning of the passage for you,I will just write my one poetic prose onthe Incarnation, and so here it goes:
Sean Goldman, the unyielding parent on Christmas Eve
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9:2-7
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-14(15-20)
Psalm 96 for the readings click here
A bitter legal battle has just finished over the custody of a nine-year-old Sean Goldman in Brazil. The custody battle began in 2004, when Goldman's wife, Bruna Bianchi, took Sean, who was then 4, from their home in New Jersey to Rio de Janeiro for what was to have been a two-week vacation. She never returned, instead remarrying there and retaining custody of Sean. She died last year in childbirth. Economics apparently had played a role, since U.S. Sen. Frank Lautenberg, D-New Jersey, had placed a hold on a trade bill that would have benefited Brazil to the tune of $2.75 billion. Lautenberg's hold was designed to exert additional pressure on Brazilian authorities to abide by the court order to return Sean to his father, he said.
The story of Sean Goldman is the story of an unyielding parent who against all odds has moved heaven and earth to bring his child home. And if the story proves to be true, even political super powers, United States and Brazil, got involved to the tune of $2.75 billion.
It makes me think of the power of a defenseless child over those who surround him or her, unable to care for himself, yet he or she pushes the people around them to go to the extremes to be defended, nurtured and protected. It makes me think, in case like this, how even powerful economic forces got involved in what should have appeared at first as a domestic and civil matter.
Two thousand years ago in a similar political, economic and social crucible Mary, Joseph and Jesus found themselves. It was supposed to be a simple matter of Joseph marrying Mary at the appropriated time and fathering a child, has now become a story of unquestionable faith in God, loyalty and respect for each other, a story of imaginative responses and divine surprises that we repeat every year and one that brings warmth to our hearts.
In the story God has become manifested in the middle of human ambiguity. In the process of doing so He has sent flying traditional understanding of marriage by providing a non-sequitor explanation for Mary’s state. God used the need for taxation of the Roman Emperor to place the Holy Family in the neighborhood of Bethlehem, the city of legendary King David. He Invited, using a cosmic device, a group of foreign astrologists to come and worship the newborn king who was reposing in an animal trough, not in a throne. God told, using the most spectacular of ways, to a group of shepherds (society moral castaway, suspects of sexual deviations), to do the same and come and worship. God sends via dreams the family running for to a foreign country to escape King Herod’s killing of the innocents.
We know the end of the story, we have sugar coated it to the point of losing most of all its sharp angles, but think what went through their heads as God demanded from them a faith beyond intellect, or cultural habits or even God’s own law. Mary and Joseph and Jesus were put on the edge of their social group and told to wait and hope and pray –Mary kept pondering everything in her heart- as Scripture says of her state of mind.
Dietrich Bonheoffer’s, the German theologian who was killed a few days before the liberation of his concentration camp, commenting on Advent, the liturgical season preceding Christmas, says it well: “Advent is like sitting in a prison cell. One cannot do anything except hope, pray, and wait; deliverance must come from the outside. He should know.