Changing the Rules

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The Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

February 16, 2014

The Rev. Christopher L. Caddell

If there was one rule in Ms. Robinson’s third grade classroom it was “Thou shalt not shoot baskets at the trashcan.”

I’m not sure what else I remember about third grade, but I do remember that.  Consequently I also remember quite clearly my feelings one spring afternoon as I sat out of recess as a punishment for something I clearly did not do. 

I sat in that room with one of my classmates, each of us writing furiously on a piece of paper, “I will not shoot baskets at Ms. Robinson’s trashcan.”

We each had to fill two pages, front and back, with that sentence.  I learned quite quickly that writing in large letters was not going to cut it.  As I crumpled up those two pieces of paper, she peered over her glasses to see if I had the gall to pitch it at the trashcan.

I did not, and I sat down in a huff to begin again.  As I wrote, the list of injustices mounted in my mind.

Ms. Robinson, had not actually seen me do anything wrong.  When asked who threw it, I had done the brave and valiant thing of keeping my mouth shut.  I was not going to be a snitch. 

It was my classmate, after all, whose shot went wide and landed at her feet.  I had not thrown a single piece of paper…yet.  Perhaps there was some intent for the future, but truth be told, in my mind, I had done nothing wrong.  The rules had changed – or so I thought – and here I sat, being punished for a crime I had not committed.  It was an injustice, and in the third grade few penalties were harsher than loosing your free time on the playground.

In some ways, it is that same line of logic that I hear Jesus taking into today’s readings.  He’s changing the rules, and in some cases I’m not quite sure I like it.

From last week’s gospel, we heard Jesus proclaim,

Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished… unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Today’s reading follows directly on the heels of that proclamation and goes on to provide concrete examples of just what Jesus is talking about.

Murder, adultery, swearing of oaths – all of these are cornerstones of the Jewish Law, and all would have been recognized as having not only moral implications, but religious ones as well.  The Law had been handed down by God through Moses, and to follow the Law is what made you a good Jew.

By the time of Jesus, the Pharisees had made a name for themselves in being strict interpreters of the Law.  Their knowledge and adherence to it was unsurpassed by anyone.  They knew what was permissible and what was impermissible, and their interpretations were looked to in order to determine what was acceptable under the Law.  It was, after all, adherence to the Law that made you righteous, acceptable and worthy in the sight of God.

And it is in this context that Jesus instructs his disciples on this very sacred piece of Jewish tradition.  Jesus casts the net so far and wide that it is hard to imagine someone not being touched in some way by his words. He takes the cornerstones of the Jewish faith and expands them.  Far from negating the Law, he pushes the boundaries out, redefines the terms of the Law, and makes them more stringent. 

Anger is the equivalent to murder. A stray glance is as grievous as a physical act.  Even a harsh word brings about judgment and punishment.

When it’s defined in these terms, even the Pharisees don’ t have a chance.

If I am being honest, I want Jesus to say the exact opposite of what he says.  The overarching Christian narrative is one of love, and grace, and forgiveness.  Christians speak of a God who loves us unconditionally, whose very nature is, in fact, love.  I want to hear Jesus say, ‘All those laws are foolish.  They get you nowhere in the sight of God.’

On one hand it seems as if Jesus does no more than the Pharisees themselves – offering an interpretation of the Law.  But as is so often the case with Jesus, the words hold a deeper challenge.

In the expansion of these basic principles of the Jewish faith, Jesus challenges everyone within earshot to probe deeper into the heart of what it means to live as God intended. 

For Jesus and his followers, the question is not, ‘What must I do (or not do) in order to follow the Law, in order to be righteous?’, but rather, ‘How is God calling me to be – both inside and out – in order that I might reflect the love of God in all my relationships?”

That is what Jesus is after.  And that is what Jesus will model for his disciples (and for us) all that he does.

Our salvation is not only connected to a right relationship with God, but also deeply connected to having right relationships with our families, our friends, our neighbors, and as we will hear next week, even with our enemies.

Far from the legalism of the Pharisees, Jesus points his disciples to look to the spirit of the law that was always intended to foster just and right relationships between humankind and God, and humankind to each other.

The temptation in hearing this text today is to add these more stringent interpretations to the list of do’s and don’t do’s, and to use them as a measuring stick on how we are doing in following Jesus. 

To do so would, in my opinion, be a mistake – not only because we would be doomed to failure, but also because it would miss the deeper question Jesus is asking – How is God calling me to live my life so that I might reflect his love in all of my relationships more fully, more completely, and more abundantly?

For those who remember older versions of the Prayer Book, or are accustomed to a Rite I service, you will recall that each Eucharist begins with the words that come much later in Matthew’s gospel.  Not surprisingly it comes from another confrontation with the Pharisees. 

When asked which commandment was the greatest, Jesus replies,

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it: You shall love your neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.

This is at the heart of Christian discipleship.  It is the basis of what Jesus teaches his disciples on that mountain by the sea, and what will define both the life and death of Jesus.

May it also be what defines our life as we seek to follow him.  Amen.

High Value Commodities

The Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

February 9, 2014

The Rev. Christopher L. Caddell

 

What is the most valuable thing in your possession?

 

Is it your house?

 

Your bank account?

 

Maybe it is a family heirloom, or a set of photographs that remind you of a special occasion or trip.

 

There is a house that I pass each day on my way home from church.  More often than not, I see a the man who lives there in his driveway polishing and waxing his jet-black Mustang GT.  Obviously it is one of his most valued possessions.

 

This morning’s gospel is a fairly familiar one.  In fact the whole scene is familiar.  It comes from the Sermon on the Mount, which in Matthew’s gospel is a long, extended teaching that Jesus directs to this new group of disciples that have answered the call to follow Jesus.  

 

The images that Jesus uses are memorable and ones that almost everyone would have heard at some time or another.  “You are the salt of the earth ….”  You are the light of the world….”

 

We talk of people being “the salt of the earth” meaning they are good, honest, hard-working people that would do just about anything for anyone. While people like that are certainly the kind of friends I like to have, it’s not what Jesus was saying to his disciples.

 

Likewise, Sunday School children all around the world learn the song, “This Little Light of Mine,” and cute as it may be having children wave their finger in the air and hiding it under a bushel, again such an idea falls short of the powerful metaphor Jesus is trying to convey.

 

Salt and light are two things that we today hardly notice at all.  Salt packets are in every fast-food meal, on every dining table, and found in abundance in almost every pantry.

 

Light is available on demand.  If it’s not bright enough for you, turn on another switch.  Even if the power does go out, we have back up generators and battery powered flashlights to keep us totally out of the dark.  I couldn’t tell you the last time I wanted or needed light and was without the possibility of obtaining it.

 

But for those disciples sitting around listening to Jesus salt and light were very expensive commodities.  Salt was packed in and traded like any other rare good of the time.  In some times and places salt was traded ounce for ounce for gold.  Roman soldiers were often paid in salt, which is where we get our term, “salary.”

 

Light was also very valuable.  Of course the sun cast abundant light in the day, but when night fell it was very expensive to create light.  You had to burn something – either firewood, which was in short supply, or oil, something else that cost a substantial sum of money.

 

The metaphor that Jesus is painting is one that places the disciples side by side with these highly valued commodities.  Not only are these things of surpassing value, but also are highly sought after and useful. These twelve people sitting around listening to Jesus will be the means through which others will be blessed.

 

It is the beginning of a movement that will go far beyond what those twelve men could have ever thought possible.  

 

Just 25 or 30 years later, Paul makes a bold claim as he reminisces about how the Church was established in Corinth.  Paul says that as he arrived in this Roman city, the message he shared was simple – Jesus and his extraordinary example of love.  Yet now, now that that community has matured, he assures this community that they have the mind of Christ.  That is a very bold claim!  No longer are they simply passive hearers of the gospel, but active participants, doing the things that Jesus himself would do.  By the power of the Spirit, the members of this community are searching, discerning, and seeking the knowledge and will of God.

 

A small community of people is now living into being salt and light in their own ways, in their own community.

Earlier last month at the Annual Parish Meeting, we were reminded that in 2014 we are celebrating 30 years of being an Episcopal congregation in Dripping Springs.  

 

In April of 1984, a group of twelve people gathered in the snack bar of the High School to celebrate the Eucharist.  Six weeks later the congregation held an organizational meeting at the United Methodist Church and were formally named The Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit.

 

By November, the church was meeting in a dance studio and reported an average attendance of 20 and a budget of $9,376.  A few months later the Diocese will formally recognize this new congregation, and by August the first piece of property off 290 & RR 12 will be purchased.

 

Fifteen years later the church will move to where we sit today. 

 

Looking back it is hard to believe the strides that have been made in such a relatively short period of time.  Temporary meeting places gave way to more permanent locations.  Some of you sitting here today have seen many of those changes come about.  Yet it is not just about buildings and meeting spaces.

 

Since that day in 1984, this congregation has grown from 12 members to 110 families representing 225 active members. Our average attendance that began at 20 is now 120.  And none of this accounts for the hundreds of people who have been touched by this congregation – those who were once active but have died or have moved away, those who have been blessed by attending a wedding or a funeral here, the children and families who have passed through this place as their first experience of school, finding a loving and nurturing environment that helps children begin their lives with the knowledge that everyday is one in which they live in the sight and love of God.

 

This congregation has a history of being salt and light – an extremely valuable resource to the community of Dripping Springs.

 

Jesus does not, however, give his disciples much time to bask in the glow of this high praise he gives his disciples.  

 

Salt is useful, but only as long as it continues to be salt.

 

Light is not something hidden away, but placed high so that all can see it.

As we prepare to celebrate 30 years of being Holy Spirit in Dripping Springs, we can and should look back in wonder and awe at the things that God has done through his faithful people in this community.

 

Yet Jesus’ words to his disciples are in the present and active tense.

 

You are the salt of the earth.

 

You are the light of the world.

 

God’s mission is never one to rest on that fact alone.  God calls us through the power of the Spirit to search, to seek, to discern, and to act on what is next for this community he has planted in Dripping Springs, Texas.  

 

You and I are the most valuable possession God has.  In Christ, we are God’s salt of the earth and God’s lights to the world.  The challenge comesby living into and being that valuable resource that we are – everyday, every week, every month, every year.

 

God has wonderful plans for this community.  I believe with all my heart that we have just begun to break the surface.  Yet I also believe that if we live into our calling to be salt and light in this community in which we have been placed, in another thirty years, the people who come after us will look back in awe and wonder at what God has accomplished through us.

 

May Jesus’ words to his disciples (and to us) ring loudly in our ears, and may we go forward with the resolve to be God’s salt and light in this community of Dripping Springs.  Amen.