Loading...I used to have a lot of fun taking photos of signs that seemed to me the offer ‘strange juxtapositions’. For instance, a sign for an inn up north of here that said, “Bed and Breakfast --- Night Crawlers.” And then there was the sign in huge letters in front of a store that said, “Easter Gun Sale.” Those things just didn’t seem to go together very smoothly.
Sometimes preaching is a little like that. Lots of themes that at first don’t seem to go together very well, but may have some possibilities. This week is daunting for sure. My list of themes includes a very difficult gospel reading, the tragic shooting this week at Umpqua Community College, the beginning of an annual stewardship campaign and, of course, St. Francis’ Day. Quite a challenge.
Is there something that connects all of these things? I’m not sure. But there might be some hints of connection as we begin by looking at the challenging gospel reading. Jesus’ words on divorce in Mark’s gospel are hard. Maybe even harsh. He’s speaking to Pharisees who are quizzing him.
It is important to remember here that marriage and divorce in Jesus’ time were a bit different than our experience. We most often think of marriage in terms of mutual fulfillment – finding a life partner who will be with us through thick and thin and share a bit of romance. In the ancient world, marriage was often a way to connect two clans ‐‐ to secure social advancement or financial success. There was a contractual arrangement. The woman passed from the control of her father to the control of her husband. Sometimes those marriages were filled with love and companionship, but there was certainly no guarantee.
Divorce was relatively easy for a man to get – and only men could initiate divorce. It is only mentioned once in the Torah (in Deuteronomy 24) where it says a man who has become displeased with his wife can divorce her because he finds something objectionable about her. That could be something as trivial as burning dinner or finding the woman next door more attractive. The woman, however, had no rights or means in that culture to live on her own or make a living. A woman without a household was scandalous. A woman without a household was relegated to a life of isolation and poverty.
With those realities in the background, we can see how Jesus is unwilling to have anything positive to say about divorce at all. Part of it is about the incredible injustice for women whose husbands left them. And certainly, divorce in any context, disrupts the partnership that shapes married life.
One thing is sure. The subject of divorce is a difficult and painful one no matter what cultural context we are talking about. I’d be willing to bet that nearly every family has been touched by divorce either directly or indirectly. In divorce or the dissolution of any committed partnership, there is hurt. Often there is blame. Sometimes there is even shame.
And we know, too, that many have had just horrible experiences with their church when they or a family member has been divorced. I once had a co-worker who belonged to a very severe church. When she divorced she was shunned – banned from the church community – even banned from attending her own daughter’s wedding. I remember after my own divorce in the early 1980s when a priest told me I would always be ‘defective.’ You and I have all heard horror stories like these, when one broken relationship – for whatever reason – has singled someone out for judgment and even cruelty.
Divorce is a tough subject. It is tough because it is an ending, often an undesired one. It is tough because it feels like failure.
We have to wonder how we deal with failure. When a relationship ends, one or both partners have failed to be able to live out the marriage vows they have made. It is excruciatingly complicated. But failure is not where we have to stay. We are also, as a church, a people who believe in forgiveness, healing, reconciliation. We know with God’s help that we can move along. Can love again and commit again.
It used to be that when a divorced person wanted to re‐marry in the Episcopal Church, there was a very tough process that people had to go through – a marriage tribunal of sorts. Today that process is more pastoral. We ask together what went wrong with the previous relationship. We ask what a person learned from that experience. And we ask what insights from that first marriage might help form a better relationship. In other words, we look for how that failure can be redeemed. We take an honest look at the past, see what we have learned and look ahead in hope. In short, we allow ourselves to become honest and vulnerable. We remember the compassion, forgiveness and unconditional love that Jesus taught and lived.
I think that vulnerability might be the ingredient in our collection of themes that links all of them. Jesus’ reference to children in the gospel is a key to this. “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs,” he says. We have to remember that children represent the powerless. The vulnerable. They are not powerful at all and in Jesus’ time (as Jane explained so well a couple of weeks ago) they were at the very bottom of the power hierarchy
Jesus says that the ones who receive the Kingdom are the vulnerable ones. The ones who have acknowledged failure; who have hurt; who have been broken by life. They have a capacity to receive the Kingdom. The are held and blessed by Jesus.
Certainly vulnerability plays into the range of feelings after a tragic event like the shootings this week in Roseburg, Oregon. We all watched in sorrow as that tragedy came to us on the evening news. Perhaps we wondered if we would ever be safe. My son-in-law’s brother posted on Facebook that every time they take their children to school, to a movie or any other place where a crowd gathers, they now have safety concerns. I’m sure they are not alone in feeling like that. Yet there are still those times when someone with a distorted sense of the value of life and a collection of weapons commits an act of violence. And we grieve again. The flags are at half-staff again.
In our own vulnerability, we pray. And that’s a good thing. We pray for those who died and those who loved them. We pray for those who were injured. We also pray for those who see life through a distorted lens and commit violence. We pray for our own safety and our children’s safety.
And we also pray for wisdom – for the kind of wisdom that moves us as a people to find a way to address and end these violent attacks that break up families and break our hearts. So perhaps vulnerability can open a window to wisdom.
Vulnerability also connects us to stewardship. Most of us like to think that we are in control of everything around us, but we are not. We would probably prefer to be more powerful, but we are not. Our grounding in stewardship (the care of our resources – what we have been given by God) is the realization that everything that we have is gift. Yes, we have worked hard, lived sensibly, saved and spent wisely. But at its very root what we posses is all a gift from God that can be shared out of our gratitude.
Today is also St. Francis’s Day, something that weaves its way into our celebration. St. Francis is one who gave up wealth and power for the vulnerability of poverty. One whose gentleness of spirit communicated the good news and built a community of people who preached hope in a time when the Church really needed to hear their message. One whose drive for peace and love and respect for God’s creation made him a beloved saint.
Today as we honor St. Francis we remember both his gentleness and his wisdom – the way he modeled respect for creation in a timeless way. The way we look back on his life and his work and see a prophetic dimension. The way we are called to live what he taught and lived.
Our homiletic plate has been very full today. Many themes, all of them important. All of them speak in some way to our vulnerability and our humanity.
May we in our vulnerability trust in the God who lives life into us. May we be open to the mercy, love and grace of God who provides for all our needs and who welcomes us into a divine embrace -- who welcomes us into the Kingdom.
