Sunday, October 7, 2018

Sermon for October 7, 2018 | World Communion Sunday


The Way of Wheat and the Resistance of Wheat

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” Matthew 13:33 (NRSV)

On their way to the other side of the lake, the disciples discovered they had forgotten to bring along bread. In the meantime, Jesus said to them, “Keep a sharp eye out for Pharisee-Sadducee yeast. Thinking he was scolding them for forgetting bread, they discussed in whispers what to do. Jesus knew what they were doing and said, “Why all these worried whispers about forgetting the bread? Runt believers! Haven’t you caught on yet? Don’t you remember the five loaves of bread and the five thousand people, and how many baskets of fragments you picked up? Or the seven loaves that fed four thousand, and how many baskets of leftovers you collected? Haven’t you realized yet that bread isn’t the problem? The problem is yeast, Pharisee-Sadducee yeast.” Then they got it: that he wasn’t concerned about eating, but teaching—the Pharisee-Sadducee kind of teaching. Matthew 16:5-12 (The Message)

The violence that accompanied the European colonization of the Indigenous people of Mesoamerica is a well-known fact. Historians have elaborated on the devastating effects colonization had on Indigenous societies, cultures, and mortality -- we know guns, god, and glory altered the cultures of the Americas. Europeans arrived on the coasts of what is now referred to as “the Americas” mounted on horses, armed with advanced weaponry and a bunch of European diseases. Europeans had one principal tool of colonization that gets overlooked: food and nourishment. Food is power. The Indigenous people of the Americas encountered a radically different food system with the arrival of the Spanish. The legacy of this system is still present in the food practices of modern Latin American people.

Imagine that you are a Spaniard, newly arrived on the coasts of a foreign land. Your survival depends on two things: protecting yourself from danger and nourishing yourself for survival. The Spanish diet differed from the Indigenous diet, but it was more than a matter of different tastes. European settlers believed if they consumed “inferior” Indigenous foods, they would eventually become like the “inferior” original residents. They believed only proper European foods could maintain the superior nature of European bodies and protect colonizers from the unfamiliar environment. For example, the Spaniards determined that guinea pig meat was “Indian” food, so anyone who consumed guinea pig was considered “Indian.” The same was true for other staple Indigenous foods, such as corn and beans. The Spanish called these staples “famine foods,” fit for consumption only if all other European foods were scarce.

European settlers wanted beef and dairy. And they wanted wheat. They filled the fields with wheat in places where the Indigenous communities already had their sown their crops of yucca, cassava, and sweet potatoes. Europeans planted, thinking only of their own needs and not taking into consideration the pre-existing cultures and foods that were part of the native landscape. European foods literally supplanted much of the local food.

During one of the protests last week, as I joined masses of people demanding women’s voices be heard and honored, I ran into an acquaintance who works for Casa de Maryland. We caught up on our lives and careers as we marched. I asked him about this idea of food and colonization. He told me in his home town in El Salvador, there is an enormous building that was used as a warehouse for colonists. As ships arrived, they packed the warehouse with European food for distribution to settlers. He told me the building is still there in town. Everyone knows what it was for.

Wheat bread served as a powerful symbol of how the colonists considered their culture better than the original residents’. Wheat also became a symbol of European religion and greed. In one of Columbus’s early ship logs, he wrote about how he kidnapped nine island residents and shipped them to Spain. He wrote, “...Your Highnesses must resolve to make them Christians. I believe that if this effort commences, in a short time a multitude of peoples will be converted to our Holy Faith, and Spain will acquire great domains and riches and all of their villages. Beyond doubt there is a very great amount of gold in this country... Also, there are precious stones and pearls, and an infinite quantity of spices" (November 11, 1492). With Spanish colonization came Roman Catholic religion. Just as we see today, wheat bread and wine played a central role in the Catholic ritual of communion. Catholic doctrine required that communion must offered using only wheat bread and grape wine. When Spain planted wheat in their new world, it became a sign of religious domination married with political control.

So, what were the Indians supposed to eat? As their roots were replaced with fields of wheat, what would nourish them? Many settlers encouraged the Indians to adopt the dietary habits of Europeans. Settlers believed food alone would improve Indians’ level of civility. “You are as you eat.”  For Indigenous people, the struggle was in maintaining their own cuisine while understanding that they had to accept new foods to survive.

Jesus knew all about the way of wheat and yeast. When yeast is introduced to dough, it violently changes the physical state of the wheat to create something unprecedented. Wheat rises with a different form and purpose. Jesus knew that bread and yeast have a political dimension. We hear about it in Matthew 16 … “Beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” It’s another way of saying, “Look out for the religious and political elites.” Yeast symbolizes corrupt behavior that works its way through religious and political systems.

Jesus also talked about yeast as a symbol of political and religious upheaval. Yes, yeast can reveal corruption. But it can also grow into reckless abundance, shared in our daily bread. All it takes is little subversion. Jesus offered a one-sentence parable about yeast and subversion: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” Most English translations say the woman mixed yeast into the dough. In Greek, the literal translation says the woman “hid”, not “mixed”, but “hid” the leaven into the flour. Subversion is afoot. Upheaval has begun.

Let me be clear. I’m not saying yeast is a moral agent. It is not good or bad. All it does is make dough rise. The yeast revels the true nature of the dough by making it bigger. Because the dough will inevitably rise, there’s no way to for the dough to hide what it really is. Some dough will rise and reveal political and religious systems that only serve their own needs. We experience it now in a toxic political and religious environment, driven by ratings, advertising dollars, ideology, power and religious fervor. Whether it is this “Christian spokesman” or that famous “spiritual leader” or this leftist politician or that radical conservative talk show host, we are bombarded hourly by the yeast of the religious and political elites. If we don’t watch out, it feeds on fear and divides into despair.

As I look at the world today, it just seems too much: Too much violence, too much fear; too much of demands and problems; too much of broken dreams and broken lives; too much of the sounds of people devouring each other and the earth; too much of stale routines and quarrels, unpaid bills and dead ends; too much of cruelty and selfishness and indifference. I want something different for my community, for my family, for my church, for my sisters and brothers who suffer.

I want something like and civility and mutual forbearance. Something like mercy instead of aggression. Something like the abundant living Jesus kept talking about. Something like yeast that transforms flat, cheap living into gracious open-handedness.

Food is power. So, on this World Communion Sunday, we remember. We remember what can develop when we hide some yeast into the dough of kindness. We get a taste of the steady growth of generosity … the heightening of healing … the deliciousness of deep care. Today, the same yeast that aggravates corruption also leavens our love. The growth can continue from here. We just need to hide a little yeast in the dough.


Sources:

http://www.foodispower .org/colonization-food-and-the-practice-of-eating/

https://academic.oup. com/ahr/article/115/3/688/41267

http://www.dickshovel.com/500.html

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Sermon for September 23, 2018


The Way: Ancient Journey for modern Times
The Way of Ascent and Descent

Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, you will all see heaven open and the angels of God going up and down on the Son of Man, the one who is the stairway between heaven and earth." John 1:51

When I was growing up, our school regularly took trips to the science museum in Boston. The capstone event was the museum electricity show. We sat in a small amphitheater in front of an enormous dual-sphere Van DeGraff generator – two enormous columns the size of a four-story building with enormous aluminum globes fixed at the top each column. The generator produced static electricity. We would sit in wonder and terror as the machine zapped arcs of lightning, teaching us about the power of electricity. The grand finale of the show was a hair-raising electrical storm with the retina-scorching light and ear-splitting crackle. I think we were supposed to learn about how awesome it is to control and use such power for human benefit. I learned that being in the presence of that kind of power gives me a migraine headache. I always dreaded the electricity show.

One of the demonstrations at the museum was an arc of electricity that travelled up two parallel wires. I’ve since learned it has a name: Jacob’s Ladder. His dream described in Genesis 28 must have felt electric. Jacob is on the run from his brother. Jacob, the impish and impetuous youngest child of Isaac now finds himself in the desert, destitute and cut off with nothing other than what he might find as he goes. For instance, he uses a rock for a pillow. Nothing in the text suggests that Jacob is thinking about God. He’s tired, afraid, and on the run when he stops at the place that will be known as Bethel, or God’s House. At this low point, Jacob dreams of angels ascending and descending on a staircase, then God appears next to him and offers a blessing. Jacob gets a small experience of the wider workings of God. God has more in store for Jacob beyond his own plans and schemes.  God draws close as if to say, “I am with you and I will watch over you.” It must have felt electric. If his experience is at all like mine at the electricity show when one is in the presence of power, I wonder Jacob was in caught between amazement and terror. The text says he woke up afraid. I wonder if experiencing the electricity of God also have him a headache. Or, maybe it was from sleeping on that rock for a pillow.

I was taught that the spiritual life is an upward journey in which I must strive for goodness and perfection in life. We should always be growing. Always learning. Always getting better. Always taming our wild sides and becoming more respectable. These expectations are like upward angels, moving us closer to the unattainable perfection of God. It sure is a lot of pressure, trying to be perfect while knowing we will never get there. The thought of always reaching, always striving, but never getting there this side of heaven – that gives me a headache, too.

Jacob’s dream isn’t just about the upward journey. In Jacob’s dream angels are ascending and descending—going up and down. I experience those upward moments when I sense more of God’s presence and feel transformed. Sometimes, those very same encounters fill me with fear. In my experience, both movements are important to understand out spiritual lives.  The spiritual life if not just about travelling arcs of electricity that always rise. Spiritual life is about rhythm. We travel up and down. We breathe in and out. We expand, and we are emptied.

At times we sense a deep connection to God. The world feels in sync. The journey feels life-giving, even when it’s demanding. It’s as if we are, in those moments, ascending the ladder. We say, “This feels good. I’ll do whatever it takes to be in this place.” Then life hits us hard. We experience pain, doubt, and confusion. We are afraid. We are afflicted by "contracted consciousness" and feel far away from God. People will offer us some religious sounding platitudes, thinking they help us feel better. I hear this especially around grief and dying. “God needed another angel. He is in a better place. Now you will have another angel watching over you.” Those words may be helpful for some people. Not for me. They discount my grief and suffering, making me feel like I’m somehow less resilient because of my pain. Or they are somehow more spiritual than me because they are still climbing the ladder while I am tumbling back down to the bottom.

If two people are on a ladder, one at the top and one on the bottom, who is higher? It depends on which direction each is headed. In other words, there is nothing wrong with this up-and-down process. Descending is an important part of the spiritual journey. Times of descent can lead to fuller and higher ascents. Distance or crisis can lead to a more profound sense of connection and intimacy.

During the 1920s, a young French Catholic Jesuit priest and scientist named Pierre Teilhard de Chardin [te-yar duh shar-dan], worked as a geologist and paleontologist in China. In his spare time, he developed a spiritual focus that integrated all the discoveries being made in science with what he knew about God. He published his ideas in a book called The Divine Milieu. It became a revolutionary book of Christian spirituality -- so revolutionary that his religious superiors refused to let him publish it.

Chardin recognized at every moment we experience the descent. He called the descent diminishments. We experience external diminishments all around us… premature deaths, stupid accidents, weather-related destruction, oppressive political systems. They all work outside of us and hinder our capacity for development. We also face internal diminishments. If an external diminishment gets us asking, “Why him, why her, why now?”, internal diminishments get us thinking, “Why me?” To Chardin, internal diminishments were far more threatening because of the kind of damage they inflict: dealing with failing bodies, sickness and disease, and the pain of moral failings and weaknesses that keep us weighed down. They strike without warning and rob human beings of hope. Can these diminishments ever become for us a source of good and growth?

We respond to diminishments differently. Some people will fear the downward journey and avoid it all costs. They may even blame God or loathe the idea of God.

Some will feel defeated by diminishments. Chardin says no matter how well we resist we will feel the constraining grip of our diminishments gradually gaining mastery over the forces of life.

There is a third way. Chardin called it resignation. He didn’t mean to just give up and accept the pain. He wanted us to resign ourselves to God -- to unite with God when our strength is spent. We resist. We persevere courageously. In the wonder and in dread, in the glory and in the agony, God appears next to us and says, “I am with you.” In our tradition, Jesus is the ladder … the staircase. He is the one who shows us an example of what it feels like to live the upward and downward journey. Christ gathers up our stifled ambitions, our inadequate understandings, our incomplete or clumsy endeavors. He shows us a way to resign ourselves to God when caught between amazement and terror.

Take a minute of silence now. I want us to think a diminishment you experience. Never give up the struggle. This hostile force can become for you a loving moment of transformation. The challenge is to acknowledge that our unwanted and uninvited experiences are happening in the Divine Milieu – in God’s Space. As created beings, we are still incomplete. Every other being is also incomplete and looking for wholeness. Earth itself is still incomplete, still in a state of process. We will experience conflicts, competition, loss and failure. All of this, the upward and downward journey, the blessings and challenges, the embellishments and diminishments, the healings and the headaches, all happen in God’s Milieu. All pain unfolds within God’s Space.

May we come to see we are not alone in our pain… On the downward journey, we are in the company of millions around the world. Even in pain, we can be a blessing to others

We will be tempted to get angry, and rage against the powers and people who cause pain in our lives. Or, the pain might be like a migraine headache that causes us to withdraw and close our lives up. We can convert the energy of fear and rage into something else – something that brings us closer to God and to one another. All of this takes place in God’s Space. We won’t always understand how or why. Instead of downplaying our diminishments with simple answers and unsatisfying slogans, we can resign ourselves to live in God’s Space—to sink into God’s presence.

If two people are on a ladder, one at the top and one on the bottom, who is higher? It depends on which direction each is headed. As we journey along the Way, we remember everyone is climbing Jacob’s ladder. Everyone is moving upward, just like we are. And everyone is also moving descending, just like we are. What can we do but smile at others, and encourage others, and love the person who grips the ladder while frozen in panic? What can we do but address those who try to push others off the ladder, those people around us who cause pain and destruction? They might be wounded at their very core. You never know. What can we do but journey with Christ who is the Ladder, the Staircase, the Way along our insufficient knowledge and our incomplete actions? Our inner failings, our wounds, our pains, our scars – those help us remember what it means to show compassion as we all journey in God’s Space.


Sources:

·          http://spiritualpractice. ca/welcome/how-can-my-ageing-become-a-spiritual-practice/a-spirituality-of-diminishment/

·          Teilhard de Chardin: Theology, Humanity, and Cosmos by David Grumett 89-91

·          http://www.beliefnet. com/faiths/judaism/2000/12/the-ladder-to-heaven.aspx#StvpRhEw5Hgbru2d.99

·          https://rc.library.uta. edu/uta-ir/bitstream/handle/10106/424/umi-uta-1153.pdf?sequence=1

Sermon for October 6, 2019

Abundant Bread Preached by Pastor Matt Braddock They found him on the other side of the lake and asked, “Rabbi, when did you get her...