Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts

Monday, September 30, 2019

Sermon: Chasm


 https://iotwreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/grand-canyon-colorado-river-.jpg
Pentecost 16, Year C
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse,
Director of the Whitaker Institute, Diocese of Michigan
Sermon for September 29, 2019 |Proper 21, Year C
Preached at St. James Episcopal Church, Birmingham, MI
Text here
Good morning, St. James!
My name is The Rev. Vicki Hesse
and I serve as the Director of the Whitaker Institute.
It is a joy to be with you today!

“The Whitaker Institute activates lifelong learning!
We are the educational arm of the Bishop’s office
and our purpose is to educate, equip and empower 
faith communities with fresh ways of learning.”

Which is a lot to say in one breath!
Who here has taken a course from the Whitaker Institute? 

Our three main programs are
the Academy for Vocational Leadership
Exploring Your Spiritual Journey and Safe Church.
There are many others; perhaps y’all can join me
at the Adult Forum today to learn more. 
In that presentation, we will explore “Bivocational” ministries-
An online book group that Whitaker hosted in the spring.

I am honored to be with you today
to praise Jesus and to worship God with you. 
Thank you, Pastor Josh, for the invitation!
May the words of my mouth
and the meditation of all our hearts
be acceptable to you,
O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen

Have you ever had one of those “driveway moments,”
while listening to the radio? 
You have to keep the engine running
so that you can hear the “rest of the story”? 
Yea, well, that happened to me this week.
Listening, I heard this news:
the gap between the richest and poorest US Households
is now the largest it’s been in the past 50 years.

This, despite the median US income hitting new record high
as reported by the US Census bureau.[1]

I was perplexed. And Sad. Income inequality.
The American Community Survey[2] report revealed
a most troubling aspect, that
“…clearly illustrates the inability of the current economic expansion … to lessen inequality.”[3]
The report explained how it the “Gini index” for 2018 rose over 2017 in a significant amount.

As a binge-listener
to the podcast “Make Me Smart,”  (explain)
I researched this Gini-index thing.
Some of you may know the Gini index measures
how far apart incomes are from each other –
how big the gap is.
And yes, this relates to the “chasm”
invoked in today’s gospel, so stay with me.

Early in the 20th century, an Italian statistician, Corrado Gini, analyzed economic data
to create a scale that captured the income distribution.
The Gini index scale runs from zero to 1—
allowing measures of that gap, that income inequaliry.

For example, in a perfectly unequal country,
one person with all the wealth would mean
a 1 on the Gini index. 
A country where everyone has the same wealth would mean a 0 on the Gini index.

According to this podcast, Sweden comes in around .23, South Africa is around 62. US is in the high .40’s

What’s important here is not necessarily the index.
What matters are the questions the insights raise:
like well-being and community solidarity.
Sure, not everyone has the same amount of money –
some are richer, some are poorer. That’s obvious.
But, just how much more? How much less?
and What about our lives right now?
How does this inform our discipleship and our lives of faith?

Today’s readings,
both from Amos and from the Gospel of Luke
provoke us to ask these questions, too.

And not just as issues for the afterlife
or in case of eternal punishment. 
As theologian Ched Myers proposes[4],
Luke’s gospel text offers refreshing
“clarity about disparity.”
“Clarity about disparity.”

That disparity was in Jesus’ day
a defining ethical problem.
And here it shows up as
the punchline of the gospel.
We all know that the “chasm”
that was fixed between the rich man and Lazarus
isn’t new. And still exists.

See, even in the Roman Empire,
there was a more equitable income distribution than today. 
Of course there was no Gini index in those days.
Scholars have found and now believe
that at the height of first century’s economic zenith,
the top 1 percent controlled 16 percent of the wealth,
which is less than half of that today, around 48%. 
Okay, enough of the statistics.
Back to scripture.

In the story from Luke,
the rich man,
“feasting sumptously every day,”
would have been a slap in the face
to the original peasant hearers.

Those who heard this story from Jesus normally
would feast only occasionally
and only in shared communities.

The original hearers might relate more
to the contrasting character, Lazarus.
At the gate.
Invisible except to street dogs.
Wounded and suffering.
Hungry and desperate.
“Lazarus isn’t a doorman;
he is “roadkill” in a punishing system.”[5]

This image jolts us:
Do we have eyes to see with clarity the disparity?

The rich man feasted every day and ignored Lazarus.
The rich man knew Lazarus by name.
The rich man refused to see Lazarus as a person,
a human, a fellow child of God.

And seeing, as you may know from your own experience
and held in high regard in scripture,
seeing is a very big deal.
Before we can have compassion for people in their plight,
we have to see them.
We have to acknowledge them,
to grasp their needs,
to realize their gifts,
to grant them status as worthy siblings
and children of God.

pause
How many of you recall the SciFi movie “Avatar?”
In this film, human explorer Jake Sully
takes on the digitized
body form of the Navi race
to befriend the tribe,
ultimately to gain access
to precious metals that will save humanity.

In avatar form, Jake meets Neytiri,
a full blooded Navi,
and they develop a love interest. 

There is that scene
where these two get to know each other.
Jake learns the tribal greeting, from Neytiri,
“I See You.” [6] 
“I see you”.
Neytiri explains:
when Navi persons “see” each other,
they pause, and allow this greeting to deeply affect them,
and it affirms that they are One tribe.
I see you.

While that is sci-fi,
this seems was missing for the rich man
and so created that chasm
between he and Lazarus.
And, the chasm existed before the afterlife.

See, no good ever comes
from setting barriers
between the children of God.
And our society has set so many barriers
that prevent us from seeing…
not only income inequality, but divisions of every sort
– too many to name, but you know what they are.

Confronted by this scripture we are reminded that
God urges us towards
the abundant life that comes from seeing
seeing those around us
seeing possibilities
seeing needs and gifts and companions
seeing one another, allowing them to deeply affect us

Then we have the climax of the story:
the rich man,
having failed to get Lazarus to bring him water,
asks Abraham to have Lazarus warn his brothers.

But, Abraham affirms,
the brothers already have the counsel they need.
Already found in the law and the prophets.

Which, by the way,
is the same “law and prophets”
to which Jesus refers
in the road to Emmaus story,
when he explained everything to the disciples along the way…
were not their hearts burning?

In today’s text, Abraham ups the ante:
if they don’t listen to the law and the prophets,
neither will they be convinced
if someone rises from the dead.
In other words: Jesus.

So you see,
the protagonist, the rich man, is not
the focus of this story after all. 
We are.
We are the ones who know the resurrected Lord.
We are the ones who have the law and the prophets
and have seen God’s compassion
in the ministry of Jesus.
We are the ones who come each week
to celebrate resurrection and forgiveness of sin.
We are the ones who manifest
God’s power in showing mercy and pity. 

YOU are the ones, people of St. James.
You do this by seeing.
You see in the “Day to Give Back” with Rise Against Hunger.
You see in the ways you generously
give back to God from whom all blessings flow.
You are the ones who see and serve
in this community and beyond:
in Baldwin Center, in Canif Liberty School,
in Crossroads, in South Oakland Shelter
and in many other ways.

And so… is Abraham right?
Does our faith in and experience of the Risen Lord
help us see those who we would prefer not to see?
Does the testimony of the One who has conquered death
and who calls us to follow him make a difference?

Pause

Yes.
Because our eternal life starts now,
in God’s power to see those around us.
In grace poured out on us.
In riches we partake as treasure now on earth
since it already is in heaven.

Today, this scripture brings us to a “driveway moment.” 
Because you do know the rest of God’s story
Today.
I see you.
God sees you.
God loves you more than you can ever imagine.

And God has repaired that chasm
through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
Amen.



[2] Cited in above article, at American Community Survey report.
[3] William M. Rodgers III, a professor of public policy and chief economist at the Heldrich Center at Rutgers University, quoted in above NPR article.

Monday, March 26, 2018

Sermon: Contrasts


Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Detroit

Palm / Passion Sunday

by The Rev. Vicki Hesse, Assisting

Palm Sunday (Year B) March 25, 2018

Listen on SoundCloud here.

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

Good morning! it is an honor
to share with you this morning, 
this special milestone in our life together called
Palm/Passion Sunday.

Today’s full ceremony
of prayer and readings,
tempts me to say nothing. 
The readings kind of speak for themselves. And, at the same time,
they beg for explanation. 
Today,
the contrasts and paradoxes of Holy Week
meet us as we journey to Jerusalem with Jesus.

The city of Jerusalem, in Jesus’ time,
with a population of about 30,000,
would swell to as many as 80,000
during the festival of Passover.

Because of the crowds,
the occupying Roman authorities
would get nervous ever year.
The Roman governor and
an extra contingent of imperial troops
would come to Jerusalem
in case things got out of control.
A visible sign of force and rule. 

As many scholars have written[1],
it is quite likely
that Jesus planned his entry into Jerusalem
specifically to contrast
the time that Pilate entered the city.

So “…that spring day in the year 30,”
two contrasting processions entered Jerusalem.
From the east, Jesus rode a donkey
down the Mount of Olives
in a peasant procession.
From the west, Governor Pontius Pilate
entered Jerusalem
in an imperial procession.

These two processions show
the central conflict and contrasts
leading to Jesus’ crucifixion:
his message of Love,
and his compassion and commitment
for the poor,
declare the already-present kingdom of God
over and against both
the Roman Imperial power and
the Jewish high-priestly influence.

So many contrasts!
·         The charismatic teacher
riding triumphantly into Jerusalem,
was also the one betrayed, abandoned and humbled, facing death.
·         The people’s adoration of him
giving way to cries for crucifixion.
·         His consolation for us
giving way to his anguish and uncertainty
before God.
·         His extensive message of compassion
giving way to an unnerving silence.
·         As human, Jesus was offensive and there were even contrasts in who rejected him: rich and poor,
conservative, liberal and revolutionary, pious and impious, enemies and friends.

So many contrasts!
And in our society today, we, too, see contrasts:
·         We yearn for peace and yet we go to war.   
·         We want to be a nation of great values, yet we use violence to control.
·         Our culture values vitality yet our bodies are frail.
·         School bullies get away with violence,
yet we know God calls us to love, anyway.
·         Leaders, from which we expect the best behavior,
stoop to the lowest moral responses.
·         Our bellies are full, yet our neighbors are hungry.

Our lives are full of contrasts.
Where is God in this mess?! 

Where, indeed?

In the 1st century (as in the 20th century)
it was not easy to recognize
this shockingly human person, Jesus
the son of Mary,
as the One who was also son of God,
God with us.
In the contrasting drama of his passion,
Jesus forced options. 
He didn’t manipulate behavior,
he stood before others in that tragic gap,
holding a silence, so that a response
could no longer be ambiguous.

His vulnerability revealed his divine power – and the leaders’ choices revealed their values. 
In his own moment of truth, Jesus gave his life. 

Those who were “keeping watch” saw, finally, who he was, God’s Son, with utter clarity.
They saw, along with the Centurion,
the One whose love for us
bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things and endures all things.

These contrasts exposed a Jesus who was
truly human and truly God,
and in that paradox
of the seemingly absurd but really true,
the contrasts shout out loud
that through Jesus, God’s love never ends.[2]

Why Palm / Passion Sunday for us, today?

Because we need to hear again
the enduring narrative of God’s story:
God’s radical life in the person of Jesus,
his unceasing presence with humankind,
and his claim on the divine reign
over the political and social
“powers and principalities.”  

We need to hear again the story that reveals Jesus’ vulnerability as a human
and power as God.
In the midst of our paradoxical time,
we need that story
to captivate our imaginations,
to help us make sense of the world, and
to guide us to recognize God’s presence.

And perhaps, through this drama,
Jesus’ humanity and divinity
“compels us - each - into
our own moment of truth.”[3]

Because, see, he was like us,
a multitude of both/ands at any given moment.
Showing us that
we can adopt what researcher and professor Brene Brown calls,
“a spiritual practice of belonging” –
one that originates from
the paradox of our lives. 

A spiritual practice of belonging means
being able to stand alone
when we are called to do so;
to straddle the tension of yes/and,
knowing we are part of something
bigger than us.

A spiritual practice of belonging means
When we are really struggling with someone,
we can get curious, get closer, ask questions,
try to connect.  Lean in.

·         We see this in the “march for our lives”
for gun control by those whose voice,
in a sense, doesn’t matter
(they are under 18 and not voters)
and yet their voice is what matters
for the future of our nation.
They stood unafraid of the powers of evil.
They resisted, held silence, and all
With the power of Love.
They are leaning in. They are getting closer.

Why Palm/Passion Sunday?
To save us, to save me, from ourselves,
from a world
that teaches that what matters
is mostly “what I want”
rather than seeing the possibility
that meeting my neighbor’s need
will also satisfy my own heart’s deepest desire.  

In the midst of these contrasts
we are compelled by God’s Love.
This is our moment of truth, in the contrasts
of Hosanna and Crucify him. 
In our moment of truth,
Jesus is present in the spiritual reality
of our inextricable connection.

This contrasting drama
draws us into that paradox of
God’s intimate, delicate last breath and
God’s powerful resurrection
in the person of Jesus Christ. 

So here we are, in this thin place,
where distinctions between time & eternity
fall away, where we proclaim how
the death of Jesus is integral to our life in God and where we journey with Jesus in the tension of both/and.

As we journey with Jesus this week,
May we know in the deepest part of our soul
God’s love for us on earth
as it already is in heaven.

Amen



[1] Marcus Borg, The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’s Final Week in Jerusalem, (HarperCollins, San Francisco, 2006), p. 2-4

[2] 1 Cor 13:4-8: 4 Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. 7 It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8 Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.


[3] David J. Schlafer, What Makes This Day Different?: Preaching Grace on Special Occasions, (Cambridge, Cowley, 1998), p. 86