Pentecost XVI- Holly Hartman

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

There is a man who generally can be found in Boston Common, sitting close to the exit of the Boston Common Garage.  If you park your car in this garage, then climb the stairs up to the outside, you will often hear this man singing:

“Does anybody have spare change?   Does anybody have change change change?”

I have walked by this man enough times now to know that, not only does he ask for change, but that he has an incredibly charismatic aspect which warms me, and I suspect, others, to him.  He will comment- in his singsongy voice- on each and every person that walks by him.

 

For example, the first day, as I was walking by, I heard him sing  “Does anybody have a black and white skirt?” and I realized he was referring to me!   I reflexively smiled, which elicited the next line” Does anybody have a nice smile?”.  

This made my day.  I felt noticed, recognized, and for a brief moment, valued that I was identified as someone who has a nice smile.  And perhaps...if a stranger thinks I have a nice smile, then maybe I am perceived as a warm person....which is a characteristic I value, especially in my new identity,  my role as a deacon.  Wow! 

Issues of identity are part of our human experience.  We spend a good part of our psychic energy trying to discover who we are.  And, according to noted psychologist Erik Erikson, if we don’t emerge from adolescents with a fairly solid sense of this, we experience “identity crisis” and may well spend a good part of our adult years figuring this out.   Who am I?   How am I perceived by the world?

In Mark’s Gospel this morning, Jesus raises critical questions of identity when he asks his disciples the questions  “Who do people say that I am?”, and when they answered that question, followed by “ Who do YOU say that I am?”   It was time to get everything out on the table and make sure that these disciples knew who they were dealing with.

Peter knew.  His answer, technically was correct.  “You are the Messiah.”   But, as Jesus is Jesus...nothing is that clear.   Peter might have been shocked when Jesus responded as he did “Get behind me Satan!   For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”    Then he went on to explain that while yes, he was the Son of Man- the Messiah, He was not the type of Messiah that Peter and the others imagined.  He would rise to Glory, yes, in the end, but it was what would happen in the meantime that Jesus wanted his disciples to understand.

So he began to explain to them what lie ahead for him.   The was a Messiah, alright, but a SUFFERING Messiah.  While lie ahead for him was going to be anything but an easy ride.  And if they wanted to continue on this path of following him, there was going to be enormous heartache and sacrifice.  Jesus warned of the need for his followers to “deny themselves and take up their crosses”, and of “losing their lives in order to save them”.  It was going to be difficult, impossible for some, to be faithful followers of this kind of a messiah.  Were his disciples up to the task?  Were they prepared to lay down their lives for the sake of Jesus and his Gospel teachings? 

And what about us.   As Christians,  are we prepared to “deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Jesus”?   Are you?   Am  I?”

In order to answer these questions, we circle back to the issue of our identity.  Because I believe that what Jesus is asking us to do, is know who we are, not in the eyes of society, but in the eyes of God.   

What is our identity in the eyes of God? 

It is no secret that in our society, what defines our identity, most often, is what we DO.  What we do in our professional lives, what our titles may be, what roles we play.  We are doctors, or lawyers, or husbands, or daughters, here at Christ Church we are choir members, or Vergers, Vestry members, or priests.   And we often relate to each other within the context of those roles that we play.   Which is natural and even necessary most times.

 

But what God is asking us to do, and what Jesus is trying to convey, is to look at who we are when all of these roles are stripped away. 

Take my Boston Common friend, for example.  Based on assumptions, I would guess that he is poor, probably homeless, maybe mentally ill.   Not too many people have the guts to put themselves out there like he does, trying to interact with every person that he encounters, and I don’t believe it is just so he can get money from them.  If you walk by him without giving him anything, he continues to sing about you! 

My Boston Common friend is an example of someone whose roles in life have been stripped away.   He probably doesn’t have a vocation, which is why he needs to ask for money.  He may not have a prominent role in a family like many men of his age do- father, grandfather, husband.   Now, in all likelihood, he may be an integral part of the community of homeless men and women that live on or near Boston Common, and he may have an important role to play in that community.

But in an outsiders eyes, in the eyes of “society”, he is someone who, for one reason or another, has been stripped of many of his roles in life.

Some who walk by him may notice his disheveled appearance, his long and uncombed hair, scruffy clothing, and be turned off by his begging, which is really what he is doing.

But others see him as a person who wants to connect with others, has a need to see others and be seen himself.

God gives each one of us the most important kind of identity- the identity of being a beloved child of God, even before we are born.  And NO one is spared this identity- it is there for the taking. 

The hard part is learning to take it, to accept it, and to grow into it.  Because if we could do this easily, we wouldn’t need psychologists like Erik Erikson to analyze identity crisis and role confusion and what happens when we don’t get what we need in life that leads to these unfortunate human conditions.   When we get so caught up in what our parents think of us, then our peers, then society at large, that we lose the essence of who we are suppose to be, who we are suppose to follow, and how we are suppose to do that,  according to our Creator.

If we, like the disciples, were asked directly by Jesus to deny ourselves and take up our crosses, to lose our lives for his sake and the sake of the gospel so that paradoxically it will be saved, what would that look like?

I believe that what is would look like would vary according to who we are.  But I also believe that there is a common thread of truth running through this very difficult challenge that would be real for all of us. 

If we took this seriously, and we should, then I believe that God is asking us to examine who we are when we stripped down to nothing- at least, nothing in the eyes of society.  Who we are when the earthly things are taken away- our homes, our material possessions, our roles in life.   Not that God wants us to be without these things, only that God wants us to put our priorities in order.  Enjoy our earthly things, but be wary of our attachment to them.

Because if we can imagine who we are without these things, then perhaps we can imagine how much we are loved by God.  I believe that that is why those of us who travel to places in the world, accompanying people who live in dire poverty for a little while, are attracted to these people.  I believe that is why I am so taken in my singing Boston Common friend.   Without the veil of worldly possessions, there can be authenticity,  a sense of knowing who we are in the eyes of God.  Beloved.  Cherished, and held in high esteem by the One who has created us.  Expected to do good in the world.  Expected that if we are willing to lose our life- loosen our attachments to our human life- for the sake of God, then we will have a life in God that is deep, true, and working towards all things good.   I pray that we will turn our hearts towards this type of life.

 

 

Pentecost XV- Skip Windsor

                                                              Be Open

                     “He sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha’ ” (Mk 7:34)

This morning, as we return to Christ Church and resume our shared ministry in Christ, I would like for us to consider the idea of church as a listening place.  The Gospel reading from Mark today invites us to listen to God’s call and to listen to one another with fidelity and truth, honesty and compassion.

Phillips Brooks, the great 19^th century preacher of Trinity Church, Boston, after fifteen years as rector there, decided to make a personal gift to the parish that he loved so much. Brooks commissioned, and had made, a stained glass window for the clergy vesting room. He gave it the name Ephphatha, which means, “Be open.” The window portrays Jesus healing of “The man who was deaf and had an impediment in his speech.” Of all the many healing stories and of all the mighty acts of Jesus, Brooks chose this event for his window at Trinity. It was to be a window for all succeeding generations of preachers. Of this window, Brooks wrote to a friend, who admired it,

“I am glad you like the little window in the robing room because it is my very own thought entirely and one I took the deepest interest. The makers did their work just as I wanted them to, and the result has already given me great satisfaction and inspiration. I hope that it will help a long line of future preachers at Trinity to speak with free and wise tongues.” (Phillips Brooks, by Alexander V. G. Allen, p. 420)

Ephphatha. This word of Jesus written in the Phillips Brooks Window at Trinity must have symbolized to Phillips something special about the personality, the humanity and the divinity of Jesus. And, it is from today’s gospel reading from Mark that provides an important clue for us to understand the mystery and the majesty of the incarnate God,  Jesus Christ.
 
The region of the Decapolis lies on the southeast coast of Galilee; and as Jesus entered the town of Sidon his reputation as a healer preceded him. People heard about demons being cast down, lepers cleansed, and about a paralyzed man being healed and forgiven with the words, “Take up your mat and walk home.” For many people these miracles of Jesus were sensational events front-page National Inquirer material such as we might see at the Sudbury Farms checkout counter:

 --- “90 year old mother expecting her 23^rd child.”

--- “Kansas couple home again after spending a year in a UFO.”

--- “Carpenter from Nazareth spits, says magic word and heals man born deaf and speechless” (more inside on page 6.)

Jesus may have been front-page material for the people of Sidon but he did not want such notoriety because he knew his healing actions were widely misunderstood. He performed miracles but he was no miracle worker. He did magical things but he was no magician. None of this was to call attention to himself. It was all about God. All of his actions were to proclaim the Good News of God that would evoke in peoples’ tired and lonely lives hope, inspiration and joy.

Jesus was the bearer of a hope beyond the boundaries of their imagination. It was no wonder that he took the deaf and speechless man aside. All prophetic ministries begin in the pastoral. All healing comes from a deep well of compassion. All encounters with the living God begin with a one-on-one relationship.

Imagine then how much care and concern for others filled Jesus. He embodied divine love. The prophets foretold of his coming. The prophet Isaiah prophesied that One would come and would bind up the wounds of many:

“He will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongues of the speechless sing for joy.”

Jesus didn’t seek the power, the glamour nor the lure of the world in order to influence it. Rather, the force unleashed by Jesus to the sightless, the deaf, the speechless, the lame and the marginalized was the healing power of God’s love. It was a love of profound depth, of such unchartered width and so immeasurably great that the thickets of discord and the thorns of affliction would be completely cut down forever.

This was never more intimately and compassionately realized than in today’s gospel lesson. Like so many things, it all begins with a one-on-one relationship.

 Jesus did not let sensationalism stop him from healing. Instead he took the disabled man to a quiet place. In that place, Jesus’ physical actions matched exactly the needs of the man as he put his fingers in the man’s ears. Touching the man with his own saliva, Jesus utters the word, Ephphatha that is “Be open.”

In that moment of encounter transcending time and space, miracle and magic, Jesus says a word of prayer, not as a command but as a sigh. Captured in this intimate moment between Jesus and the man is the revelation of the true identity and reality of Jesus as both fully divine and fully human.

This is the sigh of a loving and protecting Creator who groans with us in our travails and hardships with unwavering love and loyalty knowing and assisting us towards wholeness and holiness. It is the sigh of a Nazarene who lived in this world being raised in a loving family, educated as a pious Jew, grew in wisdom and stature as a rabbi, and inspired a motley group of men and women to become his disciples. Jesus’ sigh reveals not only the man but also God who became flesh and experienced both the joys and tragedies of human life.

Sensing these mountainous burdens among God’s people, Jesus emits the same sighs of frustration, despair, and despondency as they felt. Feelings we share today. Jesus’ sigh is offered on our behalf and on behalf of the world.  It is offered to all people who feel muzzled, imprisoned, silenced, and pronounced as unimportant and insignificant.

You and I are called through our baptisms into a shared ministry with Christ to “hear one another into speech.” It is a ministry in which we extend ourselves to one another – friend, foe and neighbor – with honesty and integrity remaining in community with another despite our differences and persuasions.

Ephphatha. Be open. It is the word of prayer spoken in Jesus’ own idiom, undefiled down through the centuries, calling us as healers in his name to be open as a church to all people. We are not only to be a speaking place but a listening place hearing others into speech, hearing others into wholeness.

The world right now needs more listening places. Places where people can come and begin to learn their own words for themselves, speaking up for themselves, gaining self respect and dignity and beginning the healing and transforming process to holiness and wholeness.

The Church, the people of God, is the listening place where the silent, the speechless, and the maimed come to be opened and to be healed. In our world today there is a blistering sound of audible cries of people who need to be heeded and heard. The infant voices of freedom in Russia and Iran need to be heard. The muffled sounds of the abandoned in Haiti and Bolivia need to be heard. The belches and cries of the hungry in Boston and in the bleached out prairies of the Midwest need to be heard. The voices of lonely immigrants living on the margins of society need to be heard. The silent among us need to be heard.

As long as you and I remember whom we serve and who listens to us with loving care, we will be empowered to listen to others empowering them into speech and into action. As long as we recall Jesus’ word to the deaf and speechless man, Ephphatha, be open, our souls will be set free, the lonely will be befriended and the needy with find comfort, hope and healing.

It is no wonder that Phillips Brooks wanted this Gospel story and this word emblazoned on his window at Trinity Church. Ephphatha. It is a word to be cherished by all preachers. It is a word to be cherished by us all.

And now to God who is able to do more than we ask or think may all honor and glory be given in the Name of Jesus Christ throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.