Sunday, October 27, 2024

sleeping seeds


In the first chapter of Genesis, on the fourth day of creation, we are reminded that we know where we are in time: most primordially in the seasons and days and years marked by the stars and the planets and the rotation and revolution of the Earth. (Genesis 1:14-19)   

The Christian calendar, like the Hebrew calendar, follows the sun and the moon. The traditional calendars of the indigenous peoples of southern Arizona show us the seasons of growth and of waiting. (As I recall from a visit to the Arizona Historical Museum, in some traditions we hereabouts have six, based on not only heat and cold, rain and drought, but the fruition times of various local food plants.) And later the arrival of Spanish and Mexican cultivators meant these two calendars were integrated into such festivals as the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, which is the time of harvest for wheat and also marks the beginning of the monsoon.

We know where we are in time also and that we are in the in-between time of hope.

Psalm 126

6  Those who sowed with tears * 

will reap with songs of joy.

7  Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, * 

will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.


Between the sowing and the reaping, 

In between now and then, between what was and what is to come, between the seed time and the harvest, the apparently infertile soil is the place of hope.

Of faith in things not seen, as yet, but believed.

This is about much more than simply the turn of the agricultural calendar, between the sowing and the reaping. In our lives we may experience times of nascency, of no apparent growth, indeed some times of sorrow and bereavement, when things are yet happening below the surface.

One time I encountered the then- archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, and as a conversation opener remarked to him that he had had great success as bishop of Bath and Wells, a time of great revival in the churches there. And he replied, that another had sown, and another tended, and he had merely been in at the harvest. He might have been quoting Saint Paul, “So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” (1 Corinthians 3:7)

We may, as Canon Anita reminded the congregation during the diocesan convention, see about us a desolate apparently barren place, as the Israelites returning from the Babylonian Captivity perceived when they arrived back in the land of their ancestors. Return from exile did not mean easy street. They were confronted with choices that tested their faith. 

She gave the example of a householder holding a handful of grain. This could be the seed corn for the harvest to come, or she could use it to feed her family. Consuming the seed grain is a short-sighted move, but understandable in a time of desperation. The farmer would have to hold onto faith that the family would be sustained through the growing season, but as Paul wrote to the Corinthians, one plants, another waters, but God gives the growth. (cf. 1 Corinthians 3:6)

A time of waiting. Sleeping seeds: when shall they wake? When will the harvest come?

Hope is the bridge between faith that is theory and belief, and love that is practice and action.

At a time like that faced by the farmer, faith in theory is challenged to become love in action. And in between is the time of hope.

I do everything I can as if it all depends on me, said Mother Teresa; then I leave the rest to God. (to Malcolm Muggeridge, in ‘Something Beautiful for God,’ documentary film)

[And yet even she said, "I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness." Mother Teresa (https://www.catholic.org/clife/teresa/quotes.php)]

The story of Bartimaeus helps us to begin to make real this distinction between ideal and action, between potential and fulfillment. As he waits by the side of the road blind beggar Bartimaeus can only imagine a healing to physical sight. This in itself is a powerful sign of the hand of God at work through the one that Bartimaeus cries out to as ‘son of David’, which is pretty much equivalent to hailing him as Messiah. (Mark 10:46-52) 

(The Greek is helpful here: he cries out, ‘anaboaō’ – that he might see again, ‘anablepsō’.)

Calling Jesus Teacher, ‘Rabbouni’, (as Mary Magdalene will address him at the Empty Tomb, in John 20:16) begins to reveal that the blind man’s insight goes beyond physical appearances.

A more-than-physical health is for us to enjoy, too, as we perceive the full extent of the gift of vision that Jesus gives us and Bartimaeus. The gift is beyond his expectation, and ours, for this is the gift not simply of seeing things that are visible but the gift of Jesus himself : and of the arrival in his person of the coming reign of God. 

When Bartimaeus casts aside his begging-cloak he begins this journey, a journey that will take him from supplicant to disciple and will take him and Jesus to their next stop: Jerusalem. Jerusalem, where the fulfillment of Jesus’ purpose as the Son of David, the anointed one of God, will be revealed.

The days and years and seasons illuminated for us by sun and moon and stars tell us where we are in time - chronometer time. The life that is the light of humankind, that is Jesus, lights our way as we follow him into a greater sense of time - holy time - and a greater truth than simple sight. There is more than the marking of time passing at work here: in the kingdom of God, from Genesis through Revelation, God is at work in Christ, healing and reconciling us to himself. And we, thus enlightened, are called to live out our new insight in receiving, embodying, and carrying forth the gifts of faith, hope, and love, that make the kingdom of heaven real in our lives.

Things we begin to make real, to realize, by acting into them: we begin living into the kingdom, the reign of God. 

The reality of the kingdom in our lives does not depend on or equate to anything less than the reign of God.

Present, social order or economic situation may change, but what continues is the story of the people of God, the story from creation through the life of Christ to resurrection, the story which is enacted sacramentally in water and oil in wine and bread, and in our fellowship with each other, and, in the spirit, becomes active in our care for each other, for all people, and for the created world.   

Faith we have and we work toward love as we hold onto what we know that is true: God’s love and the work to make it actively present in our lives in society and world.   

In a sense more evident for us than for many people of the past, we are aware of the world society that is both a mission field, encompassing the globe, and also our common home.  

Hope is the bridge between faith that is theory and belief, and love that is practice and action.

May the kingdom come on earth, as we act in love, as it is, as we know in faith, in heaven.


Genesis 1: 

14 And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years:

15 And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so.

16 And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.

17 And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth,

18 And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good.

19 And the evening and the morning were the fourth day.


Jeremiah 31:7-9. Psalm 126. Hebrews 7:23-28. Mark 10:46-52.

Sermon for October 27, 2024 [Proper 25. Year B]

JRL+ 



Friday, August 9, 2024

speaking peace

 As the Psalm calls us to do,

Let us listen to what the Lord God is saying, for he is speaking peace to his faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to him.Truly, Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Truth shall spring up from the earth, and righteousness shall look down from heaven. Righteousness shall go before him, and peace shall be a pathway for his feet. (from Psalm 85)

***

It is a call not to despair but to repentance. However dire the current situation, God is still extending a hand to humankind, stirring life and hope.

What is the Lord God saying?

Not to the people of the past, anymore, but to us. What shall we do in our current situation? What shall we do, facing eternity?

The Russian novelists of the 19th Century, in their great literature, asked the question, how are we to live?

It is not so different from the question people asked Peter, when he had baptized them: what do we do now?

Now what? is where we are now, where we always are, after the crucifixion of Jesus, after his resurrection and ascension, before the fullness of the kingdom of heaven is revealed in all its joyous power. Now what?

How are we to live - now? Or they asked Peter after Pentecost, what must we do?

Simple words, simple actions, in the telling of the gospels. Don’t cheat, don’t lie, don’t steal, give right weight and proper measure, share, look after the needy. Wait, but not just sitting around. Prepare by being ready, by getting into the habit, by living into the kingdom that is not yet - but whose citizens we already are.

Above and beyond and always questioning our earthly loyalties, to tribe or even family, is that divine calling, that allegiance unpledged, unbought, unvoted for, but ultimately demanding: the welcome undertow of the holy word, the joyous laughter of the Lord of mirth, the happy ending beyond all sorrow, that comes when we come to the Lord, and lay ourselves at his feet.

In our words and in our actions, together as a congregation, individually in our daily lives, and as citizens and people of common humanity, we are making positive steps toward inhabiting the kingdom of heaven that is coming into being.

And – despite all anxieties and threats to the contrary – the kingdom of heaven comes ever closer and even shows itself in places. May it become ever more visible in our lives and the lives we touch.

Let us pray for all worried about or touched by political violence or its threat, that there be listening instead of reaction, compassion instead of anger, and seeking of peace instead of reaching for a sword.

Let us not seek to relieve anxiety in rash and harmful ways but live and act in the compassionate love to which we are always called.

https://tucson.com/life-entertainment/local/faith-values/do-as-the-psalm-calls-us-to-do/article_e0205f1e-4e88-11ef-8a12-0711518687c7.html

Sunday, July 14, 2024

Bastille Day 2024

One of the most well known acts of political violence in history is remembered today in Paris. In 1789 on 14 July a mob released about eight people from a decrepit prison in the center of Paris. The building was then demolished. It was called the Bastille; today is Bastille Day.

Yesterday at noon the US secretary of state sent best wishes to the people of France, eighty years after the liberation of Paris and 75 years after the founding of NATO… and 235 years after the storming of the Bastille, which marks the beginning of the French Revolution.

Yesterday also a twenty-year-old man got to the top of a building near a political rally in Pennsylvania and shot his rifle at the former President. Mr Trump was hit in the top of the ear, and rushed to safety. One spectator was killed, two more seriously injured, and the Secret Service found and killed the shooter.
Between the 18th century and yesterday there were many acts of individual violence, gun violence, assassinations and attempted assassinations, of presidents, prime ministers, and many others. There have been revolutions, rebellion, wars, and riots. 

Two thousand years ago two acts of political violence were committed that are connected in today’s gospel. King Herod ordered the death of the popular preacher John the Baptist. Later the Roman governor of Judea would order the death of John’s cousin, Jesus of Nazareth. 

Both were killed in part because of political anxiety. Within decades the upheaval of rebellion after rebellion led to the demolition of Jerusalem. Of the Temple only a part of the western wall remains.
I do not equate any of these acts with another in specific motive, purpose, or result. 

We can however know as people of God that acts of violence, gun violence, political violence, however motivated, are against the will of God. 

As Presiding Bishop Michael Curry said last night, on Trump rally shooting: 
"The way of love—not the way of violence—is the way we bind up our nation’s wounds. We decry political violence in any form, and our call as followers of Jesus of Nazareth is always to love. We pray for the families of those who were killed. We pray for former President Trump and his family and for all who were harmed or impacted by this incident. I pray that we as a nation and a world may see each other as the beloved children of God."

As the Psalm we sang today calls us to do, 

Psalm 85:8-13
Benedixisti, Domine

8 I will listen to what the Lord God is saying, *
for he is speaking peace to his faithful people
and to those who turn their hearts to him.
9 Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him, *
that his glory may dwell in our land.
10 Mercy and truth have met together; *
righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
11 Truth shall spring up from the earth, *
and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
12 The Lord will indeed grant prosperity, *
and our land will yield its increase.
13 Righteousness shall go before him, *
and peace shall be a pathway for his feet.

***

It is a call not to despair but to repentance. However dire the current situation, God is still extending a hand to humankind, stirring life and hope.

What is the Lord God saying?

Not to the people of the past, anymore, but to us. What shall we do in our current situation? What shall we do, facing eternity? 

The Russian novelists of the 19th Century, in their great literature, asked the question, how are we to live? 

It is not so different from the question people asked Peter, when he had baptized them: what do we do now?

Now what? is where we are now, where we always are, after the beheading of the Baptist, after the crucifixion of Jesus, after his resurrection and ascension, before the fullness of the kingdom of heaven is revealed in all its joyous power. Now what? 

How are we to live - now? Or they asked Peter after Pentecost, what must we do?

Simple words, simple actions, in the telling of the gospels. Don’t cheat, don’t lie, don’t steal, give right weight and proper measure, share, look after the needy. Wait, but not just sitting around. Prepare by being ready, by getting into the habit, by living into the kingdom that is not yet - but whose citizens we already are.

Above and beyond and always questioning our earthly loyalties, to tribe or even family, is that divine calling, that allegiance unpledged, unbought, unvoted for, but ultimately demanding: the welcome undertow of the holy word, the joyous laughter of the Lord of mirth, the happy ending beyond all sorrow, that comes when we come to the Lord, and lay ourselves at his feet.

In our words and in our actions, together as a congregation, individually in our daily lives, and as citizens and people of common humanity, we are making positive steps toward inhabiting the kingdom of heaven that is coming into being.

This includes collective action as citizens and as assembled people of God.

This spring, United Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and Episcopalians each gathered to discuss their future, enact resolutions, and elect leaders for a new era.

More people will vote around the world this year than ever before.

Americans are voting. Arizona voters have begun to make their choices.  St Matthew’s is again a voting center.

And – despite all anxieties and threats to the contrary – the kingdom of heaven came ever closer and even showed itself in places. May it become ever more visible in our lives and the lives we touch. Amen.

Let us pray for all worried about or touched by political violence or its threat, that there be listening instead of reaction, compassion instead of anger, and seeking of peace instead of reaching for a sword. 

Let us not seek to relieve anxiety in rash and harmful ways but live and act in the compassionate love to which we are always called.

O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

July 14, 2014. JRL+


***

U.S. Department of State
Bastille Day
07/14/2024 12:01 AM EDT
Antony J. Blinken, Secretary of State
On behalf of the United States of America, I extend my warmest wishes to the people of France as you celebrate Bastille Day.
France, our oldest Ally, holds a cherished place in American hearts. Our enduring relationship is built upon the shared values of democracy, human rights, and freedom. Together, we have faced the trials of two World Wars and have worked in unity to build a more prosperous and secure world.
As we navigate the challenges of the 21st century, our partnership remains strong and multifaceted. We commend France’s leadership in addressing global issues such as climate change, including through the Paris Agreement, and we appreciate our close cooperation on security matters in Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and the Indo-Pacific. Our united efforts to end Russia’s war against Ukraine and to combat the climate crisis underscore the depth of our collaboration.
This year marks significant anniversaries and milestones, including the 80th anniversary of the Liberation of France, the 75th anniversary of NATO, and France’s role as host of the 2024 Olympic and Paralympic Games. We celebrate the sacrifices made by those who have fought for freedom and democracy and honor their legacy by continuing to work together to promote peace and prosperity.
Best wishes to the people of France for a joyous Bastille Day and a successful year ahead. Vive la France!
***
Episcopal Church Office of Public Affairs
 
Sat, Jul 13 at 7:00 PM
Statement from Presiding Bishop Michael Curry on Trump rally shooting
"The way of love—not the way of violence—is the way we bind up our nation’s wounds. We decry political violence in any form, and our call as followers of Jesus of Nazareth is always to love. We pray for the families of those who were killed. We pray for former President Trump and his family and for all who were harmed or impacted by this incident. I pray that we as a nation and a world may see each other as the beloved children of God."
***
 

now what


 

What came to mind for me first on being asked to preach on July 14th was Bastille Day. Then I looked up the readings and noticed the infelicitous phrase “head on a platter” - one that I will not use blithely around in-laws whose ancestors escaped France in the face of the Terror - or didn’t.

In the gospel reading the beheading of Saint John the Baptist is not an enforcer’s work, unless you count heedless teenagers. Even the Lord’s Resistance Army in the east African jungle had to groom and train children to be soldiers. Here the queen’s daughter just seeks to please her.

What a ghastly family. But that is hardly the point. How less ghastly are the people who shout, crucify! or the governor who washes his hands of the whole business. or the people who make money off it, or jeer, or gape blankly, as the man with the cross, John’s cousin, is led to death.

Amos in the first reading delivers the unwelcome news that there will not be a second Passover, no exemption for the people of Israel this time, as God passes judgment on the unholy of the world. That is what “I will never again pass them by'' means. No more passing over. Just as the spiritual, recalling the flood of Noah, warned, No more water; the fire next time. (2 Peter 3:7)

“God gave Noah the rainbow sign, no more water but the fire next time.” https://blog.adw.org/2018/06/fire-next-time-meditation-second-letter-peter/

“But by the same word the present heavens and earth have been reserved for fire, being kept until the day of judgment and destruction of the godless.” (2 Peter 3:7, NRSV)

What Amos does is prophesy, and forewarn of the coming exile of the people of Israel, –the northern kingdom,– soon to be overrun by then-powerful Assyria, a neighbor to the north.

All this cleansing is in response to sin. Pretty harsh punitive measure, or pretty clear warning of consequences. The point is - though ignored by the hearers of John the Baptist - REPENT!

“Turn back O man forswear thy foolish ways,” as they sing in Godspell. 

But the invitation is more positive and joyful than these words and worries would suggest. 

Look at the psalm we sing or say in response to Amos:

Psalm 85:8-13  Benedixisti, Domine

8 I will listen to what the Lord God is saying, *
for he is speaking peace to his faithful people
and to those who turn their hearts to him.
9 Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him, *
that his glory may dwell in our land.
10 Mercy and truth have met together; *
righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
11 Truth shall spring up from the earth, *
and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
12 The Lord will indeed grant prosperity, *
and our land will yield its increase.
13 Righteousness shall go before him, *
and peace shall be a pathway for his feet.

It is a call not to despair but to repentance. However carbon soaked the atmosphere, however dire the current situation, God is still extending a hand to humankind, stirring life and hope.

The composer Armand Russell, my fellow bass in the choir at St Patrick’s, Kenwood, set the psalm to music, on the occasion when - one of the occasions when - the United States was about to go to war in the Middle East.

Were we doing the right thing? (The president, a Methodist son of an Episcopalian father, certainly sounded confident that we were.)  Were we listening? What is the Lord God saying?

Not to them, anymore, but to us. What shall we do in our current situation? What shall we do, facing eternity? 

The Russians of the 19th Century, in their great literature, asked the question, how are we to live? In a more awkward form, the 20th Century American Evangelical speaker Frances Schaeffer IV lectured and wrote on the topic, How should we then live? : the rise and decline of western thought and culture. I can tell you it was quite a ride. All my cohort of Christian friends were there hanging on his words, and I wrote them down feverishly, and then forgot them.

But the question of the Russians remains: how are we to live? It is not so different from the question people asked Peter, when he had baptized them: what do we do now?

There’s an old Robert Redford movie, The Candidate, where he plays a young idealist running against an old political pro, mostly to speak up for what he believes, and when he is unexpectedly elected, he turns to his campaign svengali and asks, now what?

Now what? is where we are now, where we always are, after the beheading of the Baptist, after the crucifixion of Jesus, after his resurrection and ascension, before the fullness of the kingdom of heaven is revealed in all its joyous power. Now what? 

How are we to live - now? Or as people asked Peter, what must we do?

Simple words, simple actions, in the telling of the gospels. Don’t cheat, don’t lie, don’t steal, give right weight and proper measure, share, look after the needy. Wait, but not just sitting around. Prepare by being ready, by getting into the habit, by living into the kingdom that is not yet - but whose citizens we already are.

Above and beyond and always questioning our earthly loyalties, to tribe or even family, is that divine calling, that allegiance un-pledged, un-bought, un-voted for, but ultimately demanding: the welcome undertow of the holy word, the joyous laughter of the Lord of mirth, the happy ending beyond all sorrow, that comes when we come to the Lord, and lay ourselves at his feet.

In our words and in our actions, together as a congregation, individually in our daily lives, and as citizens and people of common humanity, we are making positive steps toward inhabiting the kingdom of heaven that is coming into being.

This includes collective action as citizens and as assembled people of God.

This spring, United Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and Episcopalians each gathered to discuss their future, enact resolutions, and elect leaders for a new era.

Arizona voters began to make their choices; St Matthew’s is again a voting center.

And the kingdom of heaven came ever closer and even showed itself in places. May it become ever more visible in our lives and the lives we touch. Amen.


O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.


For the Episcopal Church of Saint Matthew, Tucson.

14 July 2024

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 10

Amos 7:7-15

Psalm 85:8-13

Ephesians 1:3-14

Mark 6:14-29

http://edgeofenclosure.org/proper10b.html



Sunday, July 7, 2024

Ruth 4 : wear sandals


https://www.levasiondessens.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/fiancee-.jpg


Mark 6:6  And he was amazed at their unbelief.


Not much of a welcome-home for Jesus. Who is this guy to tell us what is what? Who does he think he is? We know his family! Or do they?

Who are Jesus’ family? Those who do the will of God.

What we have learned from the story of Ruth, Naomi, Boaz, and the Bethlehem community, is that family - and community - can be fluid and flexible, and belonging can begin with something other than familiarity, ancestry, or common origin. We see people acting on the basis of a larger community, a family of faith, we tend to call church, or the people of God. That, I think, is who Jesus is seeking out: in this passage and others. “Who are my mother and brothers and sisters? Those who keep my Father’s commandments.” (cf. Mark 3:35) 

Who is doing the will of God: his family. How do we become his family? 

Individually? Are we born with it? This is easy to answer if we think faith is something we keep to ourselves, some sort of membership card that can be flashed to collect benefits or enjoy discounts. But becoming part of God’s family is more than a private individual matter: it involves ourselves in humankind. Human. Kind. Not always those we have known from birth, or growing up; sometimes total strangers or people we won’t even know. Whoever they are, ‘family’, those who do the will of God, are kin to me and you.

So how extraordinary it was that Jesus was not welcomed home with more joy. Except possibly for what he had to say, and what he was going to do. From his hometown, he set out once more on his mission, and commissioned messengers, we call apostles, to spread out - and to move fast - to get the message out, too. 

And what was that message? Good news! Turn, turn around, and make your way from the land of sadness, exclusion, them vs. us, cruelty, idolatry, into a new life, a new community, a new world. The kingdom of God, the reign of compassion and mercy, are at hand, right here among you: see the signs of wonder that warn you. It is here. Step into it; live it and believe it.

And, as they say in Doctors without Borders, 

COMPASSION HAS NO BOUNDARIES.

In some ways the story of Ruth is an early warning of this in-breaking kingdom of joy: we are learning, and the people of Israel around her are learning, that the reign of God does not depend on an earthly sovereign or dominion power over others. It depends on power with - not over - others. It comes out of mercy and kindness, compassion and forgiveness. And it is strong. Strong as death, as the psalm says, and on its way, even already among us, at hand.

Was Ruth a prophet? Ruth bore in her own person a prophetic message as her presence revealed more about God: God was at work in the world bringing people together beyond kinship groups or survival alliances for a holy and great purpose.


I was thinking about how people are related as family and remembered…

When I was a file clerk at the EPA Region IX office in San Francisco, I came across correspondence regarding a new water treatment plant to be sited near Grass Valley, California. The correspondence was stamped in bright red letters: HANDLE AS PRESIDENTIAL. The first item in the file was a letter from one Ruth Milhous, to her nephew Richard, complaining about what she had heard would be a ‘cesspool’ near her house. It was signed, “Aunt Ruth.” And to the letter was attached a note, “She really is his Aunt Ruth.” Subsequent correspondence politely reassured her of the facts of the matter. (It’s a modern wastewater treatment facility, not an open, stinking cesspool.) The takeaway is this, of course: She really was his Aunt Ruth. She was family.

In our story, which concludes today (aw gee!) …wait, not entirely: because Ruth really is his great-grandmother; ‘him’ being David, the son of Jesse, the son of Obed, the son of Boaz and Ruth. 

Before we go on there is that zany custom of theirs, closing a deal with a sandal…

“Now this was formerly done in Israel in cases of redemption or exchange: to validate any transaction, one party would take off a sandal and hand it to the other. Such was the practice in Israel. So when the redeemer said to Boaz, “Acquire for yourself,” he drew off his sandal.” (Ruth 4:7-8, JPS/2023)  

(And thus Boaz took on the responsibility of the next-of-kin, and of a husband.)

This is not the deal we might expect from the later arrangement of the levirate marriage, where refusing to raise up kin to the deceased caught the response of a shoe in the face. That was a gesture of disgust and contempt. Happier times for Boaz and his cousin. It was simply an acknowledgment of the exchange: who was going to act as next-of-kin, as redeemer, for Ruth and Naomi and the late Elimelech and Mahlon. 

One who had once been outside, a stranger, had become family indeed. Two isolated, lonely women had been welcomed into the embrace of a whole city. From widowhood they become mother and grandmother. But we have already noticed how Naomi referred to her daughter-in-law as ‘my daughter’ and even Boaz, Naomi’s kinsman, began by addressing her as ‘my daughter.’

She was what we call ‘married in’ but was hardly an outsider - following the laws and customs of that ancient time, family ties that had been frayed by famine and death were strengthened. The Lord, the hidden player in this drama, had been at work throughout, and the hand of God is now revealed in the way that what was small and unpromising, the remnant of the broken family of Elimelech, had been redeemed and welcomed into something great and flourishing, that will become the forebears of the family of David. Small beginnings, greater ends, seems to be the MO of our God. 

Acting into the kingdom of heaven and making it real in our actions on earth, becoming like Ruth and Naomi steadfast comforters and hope-bearers, and claiming God’s way of compassion as our own - bring us into the story: we are now the people of God, who welcome and are welcomed in turn; thus giving the world around us a foretaste of the kingdom of heaven.

Two lonely widows: does that look like the start of a kingdom? A small act of kindness: will that change the world? Perhaps it does, perhaps it might. 

“...for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7b)

Compassion knows no boundaries. 

How do we expand ours?

In some ways the answer may be as obvious as next door. New neighbors, while the noise of construction may not be soothing to the ears, may mean a new set of friends, and certainly of people to whom to offer a welcome.

In the old days in Russia a new neighbor was greeted with bread and salt. I haven’t seen that yet, here, but I have seen invitations extended and received, to getting-to-know you gatherings. 

Beyond that sort of step, – and by the way, no strings attached: we cannot ask them to walk our dogs or join our committees, just yet anyway! – there are broader ways to spread the good news of the kingdom and to live into it. The acts of compassion symbolized and exemplified by food banks, clothes closets, soup kitchens, children’s clinics, and the other ministries of the church and the community around us, are part of that good-news spreading. They show that the kingdom is coming; it is already beginning.

Kingdom. Funny word. It usually brings up the image of a guy in a crown, or a woman waving to a crowd. But the kingdom of heaven is not that; it is more than that, and oddly less: there is no need for a crown. There is only need for compassion. Mercy. Kindness. Forbearance. Loving kindness.  When you have those cooking the real kingdom is on its way. Let us rise up and welcome it.


Sermon Series: Ruth at Santa Cruz Lutheran Church, Tucson, Arizona. The Rev. Dr. John Leech.


July 7  ELW #676  “Lord Speak to Us that We may Speak”

First Reading: Ruth 4. Psalm: Psalm 127.

Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 12:2-10. Gospel: Mark 6:1-13.



Wednesday, July 3, 2024

She really is his Aunt Ruth

For Sunday, July 7th 2024, at Santa Cruz Lutheran Church, Tucson.

I was thinking about how people are related as family and remembered…

When I was a file clerk at the EPA Region IX office in San Francisco, I came across correspondence regarding a new water treatment plant to be sited near Grass Valley, California. The correspondence was stamped in bright red letters: HANDLE AS PRESIDENTIAL. The first item in the file was a letter from one Ruth Milhous, to her nephew Richard, complaining about what she had heard would be a ‘cesspool’ near her house. It was signed, “Aunt Ruth.” And to the letter was attached a note, “She really is his Aunt Ruth.” Subsequent correspondence politely reassured her of the facts of the matter. (It’s a modern wastewater treatment facility, not an open, stinking cesspool.) The takeaway is this, of course: She really was his Aunt Ruth. She was family.

In our story, which concludes today (aw gee!) …wait, not entirely: because Ruth really is his great-grandmother; ‘him’ being David, the son of Jesse, the son of Obed, the son of Boaz and Ruth. (The story will go on: turn the page and you are reading about the end of the time of judges and the beginning of the time of kings, in the first book of Samuel.)

One who had once been a stranger had become family indeed. But we have already noticed how Naomi referred to her daughter-in-law as ‘my daughter’ and even Boaz, Naomi’s kinsman, began by addressing her as ‘my daughter.’

She was what we call ‘married in’ but was hardly an outsider - following the laws and customs of that ancient time, family ties that had been frayed were strengthened, and the Lord, the hidden player in this drama, had been at work throughout, now revealed in the way that what was small and unpromising had been redeemed into something great and flourishing. Small beginnings, greater ends, seems to be the MO of our God.





https://www.pubhist.com/works/09/large/rembrandt_boaz_ruth.jpg

 


Sermon Series: Ruth at Santa Cruz Lutheran Church, Tucson, Arizona.  © 2024 John Leech. All rights reserved.

June 16  ELW #681 “We Plow the Fields and Scatter”(Wir pflugen)  
First Reading: Ruth 1 
Psalm: Psalm 146
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:6-10 [11-13] 14-17
Gospel: Mark 4:26-34

June 23 ELW #597 “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less” 
First Reading: Ruth 2
Psalm: Psalm 147
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Gospel: Mark 4:35-41

June 30  ELW #612  “Healer of Our Every Ill” -
or ELW #733  "Great Is Thy Faithfulness"  
First Reading: Ruth 3
Canticle: Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 8:7-15
Gospel: Mark 5:21-43

July 7  ELW #676  “Lord Speak to Us that We may Speak”
First Reading: Ruth 4
Psalm: Psalm 127
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Gospel: Mark 6:1-13

First reading is from the Revised English Bible [REB] (Cambridge/Oxford, 1989).



Sunday, June 30, 2024

Ruth 3 : cloaks




 “Spread the skirt of your cloak over me”

“Take the cloak you are wearing and hold it out”

She came up behind him and touched his cloak.

“His banner over me was love”


    Same cloak? It would've been cool if the cloak Boaz filled with grain for Ruth to take home to her mother-in-law was the same cloak he had spread over her. It does seem that in both cases he is offering her exceptional protection and providing. His cognizance of her, his concern for her, has gradually raised her in his eyes. And he responds generously and thoughtfully. This developing relationship between them grows from respect and dignity, grace and gratitude,  to trust and a warmer current. I don’t know if we can fit it into modern romantic-love plot lines, but we can see for certain an arrival on common ground. Ruth is no longer dependent, in the same way as she was before; she has come into her own. She who referred to herself as servant is called by Boaz daughter, and warmer terms await. It is a shift of status  much like that of Jesus’ followers of whom he said, ‘I do not call you servants any longer, …but I have called you friends.’ (John 15:15)  Before we rush on to the happy ending it is well to pause the movie a moment and reflect on the cloaking device. “Spread the skirt of your cloak over me” says Ruth, bring me under your protection, and act as my redeeming kinsman. The garment is a symbol of the gesture that is much larger: bringing under protection, as under the wings. 

    I am reminded of a song we sang at a coffeehouse gathering in high school, with the refrain “his banner over me is love” - it is from the Song of Songs, the Song of Solomon. It is a bride’s song of her beloved, so it will fit well with the fate of our once-lonely once-stranger; but it is more; it is a symbol and manifestation of coming under the protection, as under the shadow of the wings, of God. There will be found shelter, there will be found mercy, there will be found protection, there will be found - home.

    The whole point of Ruth’s journey for us may be that we too may find ourselves bereft, widowed or orphaned, and in need of a new home. We may discover in the depths of loss a newfound dignity in continuing to care for another, and eventually to receive care. Dignity and respect are restored; the story of Ruth is a story of restoration, in the sense of coming home to a place she has never known. In his Christmas oratorio, in a passage that has been worked into a hymn, W. H. Auden foretells, “You shall come to a place you have never been before and they shall welcome you home.” 

“He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.
He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.
He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.”

W.H. Auden, For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio


    Like the weary travelers in our tale, who have traveled through an unlikely land, from Moab to Bethlehem, at a time of deep anxiety, we can find a new life, a new home, as we are received into the family of the people of God, a family like no other, one that welcomes us without kinship ties but with kindness, that recognizes in steadfast loyalty and kindness a true affinity deeper than blood relations.

    The seeking of protection, of healing and wholeness, of restoration to a place in common life, in community, is what the woman with hemorrhages seeks from Jesus. He is never just about physical healing, even when that is what is sought and given; there is a healing of the whole person, and a wholeness of community, that comes from his actions. His acts are both practical compassion and symbolic manifestation. Something is going on here: the coming of the kingdom of God.

    The kingdom of God, which turns out to be much more than the kingdom of one nation, is known to us through the truth, character, compassion, dignity, wisdom, and piety of its people.* As we grow into those gifts we grow into his kingdom. 

The takeaway for Ruth in chapter 3 was more than the grain she could carry in the cloak she had borrowed; and the takeaway for us is more than romantic expectations. She found under the shadow of the wings of the Lord, and in the care of a near kinsman, provision and care. We find, as we place ourselves within the circle of the covenant of God with humankind, that we are now explicitly part of something greater than human community: we are part of a kingdom of loyalty and steadfast caring that is exhibited most fully in the person of the one whose garment the lady with the hemorrhage touched, the embodied love of God that is Jesus.


Woman touching Jesus' hem, fresco, Catacomb ofSaints Peter and Marcellinus, 3rd century



Suzanne Guthrie: “I love the profound simplicity of this catacomb fresco. Here is the image as it appears in the woman’s memory: no pressing crowd to obscure her, surrounded by silence, the background washed away by insignificance, she reaches forth to touch and knows immediately that she’s healed.  Here is a picture of the inside of prayer - intimacy magnified.”


http://edgeofenclosure.org/proper8b.html


*(See jimwallis.substack.com June 27, 2024 https://jimwallis.substack.com/p/six-ways-to-prepare-for-the-first)