Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Sermon: What Kind Of Child Are You?



A Sermon preached in 
Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse, Associate
The First Sunday of Lent, Year C
14 February 2016

Listen to this sermon here.
 
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts
be always acceptable to you O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen

When I was beginning middle school,
my teachers used to ask me,
“are you going to be
like your oldest sister Karen, or
your next older sister Lauren?” 
As you can imagine,
this was a loaded question –
having something to do with their trust in me –

What kind of child will I be? 
A gifted, artistic and rebel child, like Karen?
Or an all-A’s, girl scout, obedient child,
like Lauren? 
Who are you, they meant, and
can I trust you - the bigger question.
Oh, we sisters have shared the stories!

This passage from the gospel reading today
is about Jesus’ identity –
his identity as fully divine, and fully human. 

The scripture just prior to this text
outlines Jesus’ genealogy
from when he was about thirty years old
and he began his work. 
Jesus was known as
the son (as was thought) of Joseph
son of Heli,
son of Matthat,
who was son of …
all they way back to Adam, son of God. 

The sacred story connects Adam
to Jesus, who, so unlike Adam,
was baptized with a voice from heaven,
“You are my Son, the Beloved;
with you I am well pleased.” 
Jesus’ baptism affirms that
he is the son of God.

The pursuant temptations ask,
what kind of child will you be?
Will you be like Adam or like God? 

Let’s find out, the devil pursued,
with temptations of bread, power and safety.

With each temptation,
The devil tried to undermine Jesus’
trust and confidence in God,
pulling him away from his identity
as God’s son.
Each temptation offered
relief from his mission as a human. 
Each temptation tried to erode and undercut
Jesus’ trust and confidence in God.

When the devil first tempted Jesus with bread,
Jesus picked up on the real test:
a detraction from confidence in God.
Jesus responded by affirming his trust.

When the devil next tempted Jesus
with world power
(in return for allegiance to
and worship of the devil)
the game was pretty clear –
Jesus knew his allegiance
could only be given to the one
from whom Jesus had received his identity. 

When the devil finally bullied Jesus, suggesting that God was not trustworthy,
and so Jesus better test that relationship,
Jesus refused to do so. 

What is the deal with temptations?

Pastor David Lose offers insight here
about the nature of temptations. 
He says, “…temptation is not so often
temptation toward something –
usually portrayed as doing something
you shouldn’t –
but rather is usually
the temptation away from something – namely,
our relationship with God
and the identity we receive
in and through that relationship.”[1] 

In each case, these temptations attempted
to tear away at Jesus’ confidence
in God and in himself. 
In each case, the devil tried
to erode Jesus’ self-understanding
that he is enough,
that he is secure,
that he is worthy of God’s love.

In each case, temptations attempt
to tear away at our confidence
in God and in ourselves as God’s children. 

In each case, temptations try
to erode our self-understanding
that we are enough,
that we are secure,
that we are worthy of God’s love. 

We, too, are tempted to be pulled away.
It doesn’t necessarily have to be
bread, power and safety. 
For us, it might be youth, beauty and wealth. 
Or self-reliance, fame and security.

We are surrounded with media messages
from advertising whose goal is to create in us
a sense of lack and inadequacy,
with the implied promise that
consuming the product
will relieve our insecurity. 

Political messages often tell of
insecurity and fear:
can we trust this politician to make us safe? 

These tempting messages
try to lure us away from allegiance to the God
who created us and redeemed us.  

We wonder, who are we? Are we enough?
Is God really sufficient to meet our needs?

In the face of the temptations,
Jesus returned to the sacred story of Israel.

He asserted to the devil
his part in that story
and therefore he reaffirmed,
each time,
his identity as a child of God. 
Jesus remembered his story – our story -
from the scriptures –
and was reminded
not only that he has enough
and is enough
but that he is of infinite worth in God’s eyes. 
And through this testing,
Jesus was prepared for his mission.
He was ready for ministry.

In the face of temptations,
we are tempted to pull away from God’s gaze. 

We are tempted to forget
our relationship with God
and the identity we receive in and through
that relationship. 
We are tempted to forget our sacred story:
that God loves us more than anything. 
We are tempted to pull away from the fact that
God loves all of us, enough
to send God’s only Son into the world,
to take on our human nature and
to suffer the same temptations and wants,
to be rejected as often as we feel rejected and
to die as we will die,
so that we may know God is with us
and for us forever. 

When we are tempted,
we can connect to our sacred story,
affirming that through Jesus’ resurrection
God’s love is found more powerful than
all the mistrust and hate in the world. 

The life that God offers
is more powerful than death.

See, we receive this sacred story
into our whole being at our baptism
but we are tempted to forget.

This Lent, I invite you to take on
a simple practice of remembering. 
Remember your baptism, by simply
tracing the cross on your forehead
and say to yourself as you do so,
“I am God’s beloved child.” 
Silently or aloud, would you try this?
(do this now). 

When you are tempted to be pulled away
from your allegiance to God, try this
and remember “I am God’s beloved child.” 
In this way, you can affirm your relationship and remember that God draws near to you. 
In every moment, God crosses your forehead and says, “you are my beloved child.” 

Lent is often full of
self-denial, sacrifice and resisting temptations. 

Perhaps this is an ideal season
to remind each other of the love and grace
encouraged by this Lenten Prayer[2]:
Fast from fear; Feast on Faith
Fast from despair; Feed on hope.
Fast from depressing news; Feed on prayer.
Fast from discontent; Feast on gratitude.
Fast from anger and worry; Feed on patience.
Fast from negative thinking;
Feast on positive thinking.
Fast from bitterness;
Feed on love and forgiveness.
Fast from words that wound;
Feast on words that heal.
Fast from gravity; Feast on joy and humor.

This Lent, we are invited
to remember our sacred story
in that difficult image of the cross,
where we can trust God’s empowering love
for us and all the world. 

Jesus was faithful to God
and so God is faithful to us. 
When we are tested and led
to places of hunger and despair,
we learn dependence on God,
who defines who we really are. 

God loves us and will keep loving us
no matter what. 
For this reason we are enough. 
I know that I need to hear this declared
again and again,
in the face of messages to the contrary.

Who are you?
What kind of child are you? 

God’s beloved child, that’s who.
Amen


[2] adapted from A Lenten Prayer by William Arthur Ward as quoted at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/father-alberto-cutie/lenten-journey_b_1339020.html on February 13, 2016

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Sermon: Learning from Children



Sermon for October 19, 2014
Proper 24A, 19th Sunday After Pentecost
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse
St. Philip’s In The Hills Parish, Tucson, AZ
For readings click here

I speak to you in the name of one God
Source of all being, incarnate Word and Holy Spirit. Amen

Today is the
National Observance of Children’s Sabbath.[1]
A day to join other faith communities
in commitment to care, to protect and
to advocate for all children.
A day to learn from children about God.

Several years ago, I heard this now familiar
story of about a three-year-old girl,
firstborn and only child in her family.
But now her mother was pregnant again
and the little girl was very excited
about having a new sibling.
Within a few hours of her parents
bringing a new baby boy home from the hospital,
the girl made a request:
she wanted to be alone with her new brother
in his room / with the door shut.
Her insistence about being alone
with the baby / with the door shut
made her parents a bit uneasy,
but they had an intercom system
so they let their daughter do this.
They listened in from another room.
There they heard their three-year-old daughter
pleading with her three-day-old brother:
Tell me about God – I’ve almost forgotten.”[2]

This “haunting and evocative” story suggests
that while we know
we come from God early in life,
we somehow, eventually forget. 

A psychological research study reported this
after asking young people the question
“Have you at times felt that God is particularly close to you?”
The results show diminished experience of God,
for in the 1st grade, 84% said “yes”,
but in the 5th grade it was 69%,
7th grade it was 57%,
And by the 11th grade, 47% - less than half.[3]

This is not just a modern phenomenon. 
For in today’s Gospel,
Jesus’ response to the entrapment question
suggests that
his opponents might have forgotten about God.

Jesus’ response might imply that
“the question behind the question”
his opponents ask
as something like the 3-year old’s plea,
“Tell us about God – we’ve almost forgotten.”

= = = = = = = = =
This is the first-of-three upcoming “tests”
to entrap Jesus as he approached Jerusalem.
The Pharisees took the initiative
and conspired with the Herodians. 
These strange bedfellows cooperated
only because of their mutual desire
to see Jesus removed from the scene.
There, they asked the now-famous question:
“Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?”

See, the Pharisees were committed
to every detail of the Jewish law. 
They resented and resisted
the “census” or “head” tax.
Rome had imposed the tax on Judea
when it became part of the Roman Empire. 

The Pharisees opposed the tax,
not only for the occupation the tax represented,
but also because the tax could only be paid
with a coin minted by Rome. 
The coin itself had this inscription,
“…Tiberius Caesar, august son of divine Augustus, high priest,”[4]
thus violating the first and second commandments:
“I AM the Lord thy God,
thou shalt have no other gods, and
thou shalt not have any graven images...”.

The Herodians overtly supported Herod Antipas,
Roman ruler of Galilee and Perea. 
Herod had been named “king of the Jews”
by Rome. 
The Herodians, needless to say,
supported paying the tax to Caesar.

The Pharisees hoped Jesus will say yes,
so that the Jewish community
would see Jesus as
a Roman sympathizer and blasphemer.
The Herodians hope that Jesus will say no,
so that they can accuse Jesus of treason
or sedition against Rome. 

Jesus’ opponents confronted him
with this dilemma. 
It seemed he was trapped.

= = = = = = =
This is not just a first century challenge.
Our “opponents,”
whether society or culture or family,
confront us with dilemmas all the time,
making it seem that we are trapped.

What do we do when allegiance to our “Caesar”
conflicts with our allegiance to Christ?

What do we do when the God we serve and
the government to which
we have sworn allegiance
pull us into divided loyalties?
How can we Christians respond
in the face of wars in the Middle East? 
How can we Christians respond
to the use of torture by government,
even if it provides information
to help the war on terror? 
How can we Christians respond
to immigrant refugees and their families,
now split up, who wait
while their asylum case
lingers in the courts?
What do we do when the God we serve
and the family of which we are a part
pull us into divided loyalties?
If a family member violates
our Christian sensibilities,
how do we respond even while we risk
breaking the relationship? 

What do we do when we are spiritually inspired
to support the transformation of lives
through ministries like ASMP,
Casa Maria, Interfaith Community Services,
or any number of others,
but financially we are on a fixed budget?

We are faced with these dilemmas all the time.
It seems our allegiances
are pitted against each other.  

It seems we are trapped, like Jesus was.
= = = = = =
And yet, the solution that Jesus offered
amazed them. 
Jesus reminded them about God
and God’s sovereignty –
about the breadth and depth
of God’s creative power. 
He opened the trap when he said,
“Give (more accurately, render) …
to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s
and to God the things that are God’s.”

In Greek, the word for “render” means
“to give what is due by obligation.”
Thus, Jesus suggested a dual allegiance –
to give to both
what is due by obligation;
the obligation to live fully
into the teachings and commands of God
and
the obligation to live lawfully
with the government under whose laws
they live. 
Neither side could be dismissed.
Neither side could be “right.” 
For in fact, it’s all God’s. 

Jesus reframed the whole issue
With a “both/and,” not “either/or” solution. 
Jesus reminded them about God,
the creator of all things,
who also created Caesar.

Jesus transfigured their perspectives.
= = = = =
And Jesus transfigures our perspectives. 
Jesus reminds us, in this text, that  
God is the creator
and we are the created. 

By living fully AND by living lawfully,
giving what is “due by obligation,”
we become citizens of both
an earthly realm
and a spiritual realm. 

And, in the midst of those
dilemmas that contradict,
God, in Jesus, is right here. 
God, in Jesus, places us in a position
to dance with these choices. 
God, in Jesus, empowers us
to choose wisely as we can or
to sit and wait
until an answer arises from the Holy Spirit.  

Trappist Monk Thomas Merton once wrote,
“God makes us ask ourselves questions
most often when [God] intends to resolve them. 
God gives us needs that [God] alone can satisfy
and awakens capacities that [God] means to fulfill. 
(go slowly)
Any perplexity is liable to be
a spiritual gestation,
leading to a new birth
and a mystical regeneration.”[5]

He juxtaposed the moral and the mystical life
through the presence of contradiction. 
He said, “When we move ourselves as [humans],
we end up hanging on one horn of the dilemma and hoping for the best. 
But when we are moved by God, mystically,
we seem to solve the dilemma
in ease and mystery,
by choosing at the same time
both horns of the dilemma
and no horn at all and always being
perfectly right.”[6]

When we invite Jesus into our dilemmas,
Jesus transfigures our perspectives
with the sovereign presence of God.
Today’s Good News is that
God, in Jesus, often appears
in the midst of dilemmas,
in the midst of trick questions,
in the midst of a child’s plea,
in the midst of –
well, the stuff of life
that we humans can’t solve
and can’t make sense of.

God resolves contradictions,
which are not just our dilemmas, but God’s too. 
It’s all God’s. 
And in God’s
abundant, creative and generative love,
solutions are found.
Joy is spread.
Hope is at hand.
Suffering is transformed.
If you don’t believe,
Just find a child and plea to her:
“tell me about God, I’ve almost forgot!”

Amen


[2]  Story excerpt from Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith (San Francisco, HarperCollins, 2003) p.113, note 21. Borg gives additional credit to a couple who first shared the story with him and to Parker Palmer who tells a similar story in one of his many, fine books.
[3] Borg, ibid., p. 114, note 22: K. Tamminen, “Religious Experiences in Childhood and Adolescence,” in International Journey for the Psychology of Religion 4.61-85 (1994), 61-85. This study is reported in Benjamin Beit-Hallahmi and Michael Argyle,  Religious Behavior, Belief and Experience (New York: Routledge, 1997), pp.149-150.
[4] Richard E. Spalding, “Pastoral Perspective,: Feasting on the Word: Year A, (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), p.190
[5] Thomas Merton, The Sign of Jonas: The Day by Day Experiences and Meditations of a Trappist Monk, (Garden City, Image Books Edition/Doubleday, 1956), p. 186
[6] Merton, ibid. p. 273