Monday, July 02, 2007

sermon excerpts: "Rearview Mirror"

... There was longstanding tension between Samaritans and Jews for reasons political, religious, economic, historical, social, and any other reason you can come up with. It would take more time than we have to describe exactly what happened and why it matters. It’s enough to say the difference is like the gap between Catholic and Protestant, or Alberta and Quebec, or Ottawa Senators and Toronto Maple Leafs. Which is to say that to an outsider looking in, the groups seem rather similar, but to those within the situation, the difference is insurmountable.

So when Jesus tries to take a shortcut through some Samaritan territory instead of taking the long way around to Jerusalem, it’s not surprising that the Samaritans did not receive him. Neither is James and John’s response, asking if they might send fire down from the heavens to destroy the uncooperative village. They may have been joking, or wondering how far their power could actually go, but their reaction is clear: they want revenge, they want punishment.

Naturally Jesus rebukes them and removes the group from any such temptation and proceeds onto another village. The fact that he spares the Samaritans is very much connected to his awareness that his ministry and mission was to bring salvation, deliverance and hope of resurrection to all people. It is consistent with the way he reaches out to those on the margins, the poor, the ill, the widowed, the rejected and powerless of society. God’s grace is available for all, even those Samaritans.

So it gets a little confusing in the very next verses where we see Jesus turning people away. He was previously very compassionate and understanding of a settlement of Samaritans that rejected him, but now he’s very demanding and inflexible with people who want to follow him. They have, in my opinion, valid and legitimate reasons for postponing their departure: a father’s funeral, saying good-bye to one’s family.

Jesus likens this behaviour to looking backwards while plowing and condemns such a person as unfit for the kingdom of God. Again this sounds rather harsh, but he does make a point. We can’t let ourselves be distracted by our past, not when important work in the present and future awaits.

With a hand to the plow, we can’t fall asleep at the wheel, we have to keep focused on the task at hand. ... Jesus was right, we can’t plow effectively by looking back and admiring what a wonderful job we’ve done. If we’re caught up in seeing how straight the furrow is, absorbed by the sight of soil dark and rich, freshly turned, we’re going to get off track and the rows would no longer be even.

We tend to do that in our lives; look back and rest on the laurels of what worked in the past, of great and glorious success. ... It is tempting in these hurried and uncertain days, to find refuge in the past, in history and tradition. The glory days of church when it was the centre of community life, when dozens of children were in Sunday School, present a lovely ideal. But when we dream of the past, we don’t see the challenges of the future or the opportunities around us. And Jesus’ words of looking back are found in the automotive industry, on side-view mirrors that let us know that “Warning: objects are closer than they appear” which is a reminder that things are distorted when we look behind us.

They say that we can’t pick our family but we can pick our friends. And because of this fact, the character of our relationship with these people is very different. I’m speaking in broad generalizations when I say that you pretty much like your friends, but there’s no such guarantee for your family.

Friendship is built on shared experiences, misadventures and common interests, but most of all, from a willingness to be friends. We’ve all had friends that we’ve drifted away from or had an argument with; and we know that we can stop being friends with someone. We can’t stop being family with someone, even if we wanted.

What then, of our faith? What is our relationship with God like? Our faith is a different kind of loyalty, something else that cannot be switched off or ignored. It is always there, as close as prayer, a kind thought or an act of charity. The lesson that Jesus is trying to impress upon those who make excuses or delays, is that being a Christian overrides everything else, even the unbreakable bond of family.

Jesus told someone else that the Son of Man has no home. Everything in the world, birds of the air, foxes of the field, have somewhere to rest, to find refuge and safety. Not so for Christ, or those who follow him. We can understand this in the context of persecution, but does it apply in our day and age?

It is a pertinent reminder for us to keep on the go, that our faith requires action and outreach. There is more to honouring a relationship with the divine than merely being “spiritual” or wondering what Oprah would do. To be people of God, we must be in community with others. And by extension, I would suggest that we then treat others in this community with the same steadfast, unbreakable loyalty that Christ asks of us.

Admittedly, when we commit so permanently to a community, we also experience the frustration of getting many different people and personalities to cooperate and respect one another, conflicts of trying to chart a course for the future of the group amid varying opinions, impatience with committee work and reports and the like. Remembering the uprooted life of the Son of Man, and for all of us, there is no such thing as being comfortable.

We are to be pushed onward and outward, beyond our comfort zone, as individuals and as a congregation. We can only do this if we’re looking at what is around us and ahead, not looking back at a distorted view of the past. As Jesus hinted, the dead will remain buried; we are called to push on through life.

When plowing a field, farmers focus on a point in the distance to move toward. Unwavering from that target, the furrow unfurls straight behind the plow. But the energy and effort needs to keep heading forward. Centuries later, Jesus’ lessons in agriculture apply to our personal lives and to our church congregations. We are on the move, heading into the unknown future, but we go together.