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Little Altars A sermon
preached by Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli at Capitol Hill United Methodist
Church February 11, 2007. Text: Jeremiah 17:5-10, Luke 6:17-26 --------------- This week I have been particularly preoccupied with the question of what we hear when this Gospel passage is read. Some may recognize that what we've heard is Luke's version of what are commonly referred to as the beatitudes-and that Luke's account is markedly different from the more familiar version from Matthew. It occurs to me that folks have often tried to add a spoonful of sugar to the message of Jesus in this rendering of the beatitudes to make it go down more smoothly-Because the way Luke puts it there's no way to spiritualize the message (without a good bit of creative interpretation). So what?! We're supposed to make ourselves poor or hungry or sad or despised in order to receive God's blessing? Folks rightly balk at this reading of the passage. Another way that folks interpret Jesus' meaning here is that the poor are blessed because despite their poverty-or perhaps because of their poverty-they can find inner serenity through trust in God. While there might be some kernel of truth to this way of responding to Jesus' teaching, it seems to me that there is something much broader and deeper to learn-not to mention that this latter interpretation can end up rationalizing comfort for the comfortable. After all, if the poor are blessed because they are poor, we don't need to worry about the reality of poverty…and can, therefore, continue in our "I can't be bothered to actually do anything" mode of living. As I pondered this question of what we hear I began wondering who Jesus is talking to. We're told that he spoke to a "great crowd of disciples and a great multitude of people" who were both Jews and Gentiles; many had diseases and were troubled with unclean spirits… We don't know if the diversity of the crowd included those who were rich and those who were poor-though it seems that throughout the story of Jesus' life the ones who thronged to him like thirsty roots looking for water were the ones who were poor, outcast, suffering, poor. In any case, regardless of who was actually in the crowd, the words that Jesus speaks would be good news for the poor, (just as he had promised to deliver in his job description in Luke 4). The poor, the marginalized, would hear this teaching as very, very good news. They would hear the promise that things would not always be this way…that there is a real chance that they won't always be poor or hungry or sorrowful or despised… The poor and marginalized will hear good news in Jesus' words of reversal for those who are now rich and full and laughing and well-liked…perhaps because those folks who are comfortable now have done little to relieve suffering-and maybe even have scoffed in the face of it. But what would the rich hear? What would the self-satisfied hear? What do you hear when you listen to these words of Jesus? It will depend upon who you are and what your situation in life is. Some of us might hear a piercing judgment; others might hear words of comfort; some might respond with confusion and a sense of helplessness; others might immediately try to rationalize the teaching in order to lessen the challenge-either for the poor and suffering or for the rich; some might impulsively feel a sense of outrage and defensiveness; still others may do what some folks often tend to do…assume that the words have nothing to do with them and therefore just check out. All of these responses have their ground, their source, in who we are and what we have experienced and what we have learned and what our situation in life is. It's amazing what we hear-and don't hear-depending upon our life experience. There are certain words or phrases that completely "hook" us-that is, we hear a word or a way in which a word is spoken and it pushes some button deep in our being that triggers a rapid-succession of emotional synaptic responses in us-sometimes this produces a sensation of deep peace, sometimes this produces blind rage, sometimes we just feel annoyed and allow that annoyance to lead us off into the rabbit hole of muttering and negative distraction; sometimes something that is said-or the way in which it's said produces a complete "check out" (or a defensive tirade) such that we don't or can't hear anything else that is said… Whatever the response, it is often difficult in these moments to see beyond the seemingly all-encompassing emotional haze of our own "stuff." And that's what really strikes me this week…the ways that we miss so much, the ways that we are blocked from greater growth, because of our own self-generated haze, that way in which we can be blind to or lured away from what is being offered because of our own hang-ups or passions or wounds. This culture in which we live wants to talk about community and connection but undermines that talk with practices and structures that betray what is really valued: independence and consumerism, looking out for number one by building as much defense around us as possible. The larger culture wants to say that it appreciates difference and cares for the "other," but in practice we see growing divides between rich and poor; we see continued (even more entrenched?) tensions and divisions between persons of different races, cultures, political perspectives, and on and on. In this context, even those of us who try to be self-aware in healthy ways can so very easily become self-obsessed. Everything around us reinforces this self-obsession. It's really all about ME-taking care of "me and mine," focusing on my needs, my hurts, my group, my opinions, my baggage, my perspective, my hopes, dreams, etc… Do you see I'm suggesting that even an attempt at healthy self-awareness can lead, if we're not very prayerful and careful, to self-obsession? Just imagine what's possible when we're not even trying to be self-aware and healthy… It's a real danger. A real temptation…it's a form of idolatry, this focus on and worship of the self. So we build our little altars to ourselves and find ourselves worshipping in front of our own reflection. Of course, I am not saying that we do this consciously or with any intention. I mean, who decides to be a narcissist? What I am suggesting is that even those who may be thinking to themselves, "I don't really like to think of myself at all…I don't really like myself…etc…"-these folks are just as prone to this temptation as anyone. Because the point is that we can get lost in and blinded by our own "stuff" whether that "stuff" is good or bad-the point is that when we can't see anyone else or any other perspective or any other that exists past our own nose, then we've run up against our little altar of the self. What this means in very practical terms is that we can tend toward needing others to see us, to hear us, to understand us. Sometimes out of arrogance and sometimes out of despair we find ourselves starved for the attention and recognition of others…we find ourselves wanting others to worship at our little altar, to pay homage to us and our pain or our need or our perspective or our strengths or our lack. Like children who act out in a variety of ways to get this attention, we either strive to excel in order to get the recognition that we crave or we act up and cause problems getting that same attention through negative means. In either case, we can become blind to anyone or anything other than ourselves. Jesus is unwilling for us to go through life without being able to see others…and it seems to me that this is part of what he's trying to get across in his inaugural sermon that we heard today in Luke. Jesus is determined to shake us out of our blindness and our self-obsessed haze so that we really see that we are not alone in the world, that ours is not the only perspective, the only reality; that ours is not the only suffering. From the very beginning, Jesus makes it plain that his work is FOR others… And this doesn't mean that we aren't to be self-aware or to seek to work on ourselves and to understand ourselves. While Jesus is self-aware-he knows who he is and what he's about-he doesn't worship at the little altar of his own self. In just a few weeks we'll read the story of Jesus' temptations in the desert in which he is faced with the very thing we're reflecting upon today. Jesus is tempted to claim worldly power, to do things in order to get adulation and recognition, to be self-obsessed instead of focused on serving others, to set up his own little altar to himself. And he rejects this by continually pointing beyond himself to the God in whom he lives and moves and has his very being. Jesus seems absolutely determined to get us to do the same…to get us to see both ourselves and others in light of our shared life in God. Jesus continually insists that we dismantle those little altars that clutter the world and instead stream toward that larger Table at which all of a place, at which all are invited to share-and thereby, at which all are satisfied. And so he preaches good news to the poor and suffering and woes to those who are blind to the needs of others. Jesus comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable-and in the light of this preaching, we are unable to ignore-except at our own peril-the realities of other folks, the needs of other folks. In light of this preaching of Jesus-in the light of Jesus-we're given the opportunity to see ourselves with greater clarity and, therefore, begin to see through the fog that has kept us turned in on ourselves in one way or another. Later in Luke's Gospel account, we hear Jesus tell the following story that illustrates this point: "There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony…' He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house-for I have five brothers-that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.' Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' He said, 'No father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'" (Luke 16:19-31) The rich man couldn't be bothered in his life to really see or care for the suffering of one who lay day in and day out at his very gate. Who lays at your "gate" for whom you do not care? How are your own comforts and self-satisfactions and personal "stuff" (positive or negative) keeping you from seeing and responding to the hurts and needs of those around you-in your family, in your community, in your workplace, in your church? We have received not only the words, but the very life of Jesus-who has risen from the dead. Is that still not enough to believe that we will find life when we, like Jesus, live our lives in healthy self-awareness that always points beyond ourselves to God and that reaches out in service to others? Is that still not enough to believe that there is a place at that larger altar table for each and every one of us-that God has something larger, more whole, more beautiful in store for ALL? Is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus still not enough to get us to wake up, shake off the fog of our self-obsession, and claim the freedom that we have been given to be generous and gracious and forgiving and trusting? Is any of this enough to give us the courage to truly follow Christ? Where do you worship? And whom? And who gains or loses because of it? What affects one, affects all… Oh, and by the way, what have you heard this morning? Whatever your reaction, take it to that humongous altar of God's grace in prayer…you might be surprised, challenged, delighted by what you discover…
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Sermons from other years:
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Capitol Hill United Methodist
Church is a Reconciling Congregation. |
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