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The violence in us (sermon) Good Friday April 18, 2014

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Sermon – April 18, 2014
The Rev. Rebecca S. Myers, CSW
St. John’s Episcopal Church, Corbin, KY
Good Friday

Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. And the soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they dressed him in a purple robe. …. So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him….  John 19:1-2, 16-18

I’ll never forget the day and you probably won’t either.  I had a terrible feeling as I left my apartment that day on my way to work.  I worked nearby and had an upcoming board meeting.  It was the first board meeting with the new board members.  It was a 2-day meeting with orientation, dinner, and business.  And it was my 4th year of organizing this meeting, so I was an “old pro,” as the saying goes.  Yet, I felt so uneasy.

I was absorbed in my work, when a staff member came to tell me a plane had flown into the World Trade Center.  We went to the board room and turned on the TV, only to see smoke pouring from a building in Washington DC.  We were 3 hours from New York City and 2 hours from DC.  I had visited both cities many times.  My brother lived in New York and you could see the Towers from his apartment building.  My daughter was living on Long Island.  My children and I had visited those Towers many times over the years.  It was one of our favorite destinations in New York.  And that tragedy of that day midst a beautiful, sunny September continued to unfold.  Such terrifying violence that dramatically changed our lives. 

The days and weeks ahead were filled not only with grief and fear and responding to disaster, but also with how we would respond.  Personally, I thought about violence in the world and ways in which I had participated in violence against other people.  That’s what Good Friday asks of us…to look deep within our hearts and see where we have inflicted violence on others.  Where have I inflicted harm?  Where have I been forcibly vehement?

It’s much easier to look at a nation or at others to see how they are violent.  It’s much easier to be the victim of violence in some respects.  But to look squarely at ourselves and to see where we have crucified Jesus…where we have been part of the mob or even a mob of one…is much harder.

I catch myself rushing through the grocery store, intent on the things I need…acknowledging no other human being, but being only exasperated when they are in my way.  Truly, most of us want to be seen…to be acknowledged as human beings…and this rushing to accomplish my agenda, whether it’s in the store, or in an email, does not see the other person, which is a violent act. 

I get frustrated with customer service and before I know it, I’m yelling.  I do try to remember the people answering the phones did not create the systems or processes that are causing me trouble.  I work hard to be firm, yet kind.  And sometimes I can no longer do it and I’m saying all sorts of things. 

I once saw a demonstration about the violence of words.  A woman running a workshop I attended picked the biggest, strongest person out of the group.  She had him hold his arms out and tried to push them down.  She could not do it.  Then she spent 5-10 minutes saying terrible things to him…how he was weak and couldn’t do anything.  When he held out his arms again, she easily pushed them down. 

Yet in our inherent self-centeredness, whether as individuals or as a community, we obsess about who has treated us wrong and who has treated us unjustly.  We plot how to get revenge.  Some of this is out of fear that we will be hurt.  In truth, in our fear and self-centeredness, we have shut out the voice of God.

And here comes Jesus on this most violent of days…dying in the most violent of ways and he shows us the power of nonviolence.  He barely speaks during his trial.  He forgives the people who are harming him.  He takes care of his mother.  He hangs in pain on that cross…enduring an agonizing death.  He does not respond with violence.  He does not respond with revenge.  He does not create a feud that will go on forever.  He loves. 

Martin Luther King, Jr. was a strong advocate of nonviolence.  He said many things about it, but here’s one from his book, Stride Toward Freedom,

Violence as a way of achieving racial justice is both impractical and immoral. It is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all. The old law of an eye for an eye leaves everybody blind. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding; it seeks to annihilate rather than to convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible. It leaves society in monologue rather than dialogue. Violence ends by defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.  Martin Luther King, Jr., Stride Towards Freedom

At the National Prayer Service on September 14, 2001, then Dean, Now Bishop Nathan Baxter said, Let us pray that as we act, we not become the evil we deplore.  Representative Barbara Lee from California heard those words and took her faith seriously.  She stood on the floor of the U.S. House of Representatives and was the only member of Congress to vote against going to war as a response to the tragedy.  While others also felt the resolution was flawed, they were too afraid to speak up.  Violent revenge was the only response many of us could see.  While ultimately war might have needed to occur, both Dean Baxter and Representative Lee were telling us to wait.  

In Romans 12:17-21 Paul reminds us of Jesus teaching:  17Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. 18If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.19Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God;* for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ 20No, ‘if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.’ 21Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

 

Today is the day we bend the knee of our heart and examine where we have been violent and where we have participated in violence.  It is the day to recommit ourselves to the love of God through the witness of the nonviolent Jesus Christ, hanging on that cross.  

Amen

 

 

 

 

 

The meal of Love (Sermon) April 17, 2014

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Sermon – April 17, 2014
The Rev. Rebecca S. Myers, CSW
St. John’s Episcopal Church, Corbin, KY
Maundy Thursday

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.  John 13:34-35

My mother’s parents lived 300 miles away from us.  They came to visit us at least once or maybe twice throughout the year.  Once each year, usually in the summer, we’d travel to see them.  Sometimes we took the Greyhound bus, which was a LONG trip.  Other times we drove.  The standard dinner on the night we arrived was spaghetti with meatballs.  The sauce would have cooked all day.  How my grandmother never burnt that sauce, making it on an electric stove, I’ll never know.  I cheat and make it in a crockpot.  The sauce was very simple – tomatoes and tomato paste.  There weren’t a lot of spices, but there was a secret ingredient that was never written down in the recipe and that I learned only when I actually watched my grandmother make the sauce…it was baking soda – just a tiny bit to neutralize the acid in the sauce.

The meatballs were wonderful with parsley and romano cheese and a little egg in them.  They were individually fried in olive oil and added to the sauce.  The meal included additional freshly grated cheese, as well as a loaf of my grandfather’s homemade Italian bread, baked early in the morning.

The table would be set with a clean, white table cloth – can you imagine kids and spaghetti sauce and a clean white tablecloth?  My grandmother had the whitest whites you can imagine.

Spaghetti and meatballs was the dinner of love…the dinner of welcome.  That’s probably why my favorite thing to do on a Sunday evening when I’m in Lexington is go to Joe Bologna’s and get their “all you can eat” spaghetti.   It’s the closest I’ve found to the taste of my grandmother’s food.  It reminds me of her immense love for her family and her joy in seeing us and welcoming us to her home.  

This evening, we hear about Jesus taking a ritual, annual meal and giving it new meaning.  Jesus takes simple parts of the meal – bread and wine – elements included in the most basic of meals, and infuses new symbolism in them.  These elements represent the ultimate love of God for all people – Jesus’ body and blood…the very essence of life… given to save us…given out of deep love for us.  

Whenever we see these common elements, we are reminded of Jesus’ love for us.  When we gather together in Jesus’ name, bless and make these common elements holy, Jesus is present, binding us together into one.  

A document and teaching of the early church, possibly as early as 150 years after the death of Christ, says this:   As this broken bread was scattered upon the mountains and being gathered together became one, so may Thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth into Thy kingdom;(Didache 9.8, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/didache-lightfoot.html)

The meal…this simple meal of bread and wine, has bound us and all those before us, to that first meal in that upper room in Jerusalem.  It binds us in community to each other and to Christ, just as it bound the disciples to Christ.  It reminds us that the everliving Christ is right here in our midst and nothing can separate us from the love of God.  It reminds us to be Christ to the world, to love one another like Christ has loved us, so all will know we are Jesus’ disciples.

Amen

 

Facing the Inevitable (Sermon) April 13, 2014

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Sermon – April 13, 2014
The Rev. Rebecca S. Myers, CSW
St. John’s Episcopal Church, Corbin, KY
The Sunday of the Passion:  Palm Sunday

My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want. Matthew 26:39

Please be seated.

One of the most challenging things in my life occurred when my father was diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease.  The disease is a neurological disorder that attacks the brain.  Over 10-20 years, the person continues to lose body functions.  It is especially noticeable in the beginning with lack of balance in walking and jerkiness of movement in the arms and legs.  There is no cure.  So, once my father was diagnosed at the age of 68, I knew I would watch the slow decline towards death.

Eight years after his diagnosis, I wrote this poem:

Huntington’s
By Rebecca Myers
4/11/08

It’s in the little things
Now you have called me
Because you cannot remember
Your ATM PIN number

I knew some of what was coming with my father, because his mother had died of the disease also.  I was my father’s daughter and had told him when I was just a child that I would take care of him.  When my father was diagnosed, I prepared myself for the task of caring for him.  Now, I was extremely fortunate, because my father, who was a lawyer and judge, took great care in planning for he and for my mother’s care.  They decided they’d go into a nursing home and chose the place they’d go.  They had the resources to pay for this care and to provide some extra care in addition.  For the most part, my role was making sure everything got paid. 

While a recurrence of kidney cancer ultimately caused his death ten years after his diagnosis in January of 2011, the quality of his life was dramatically altered by the Huntington’s at that time.  I could not have a conversation with him.  Any questions I asked had to require only a yes/no or one-word response.  In some ways, we were blessed by not having to watch the toll of the Huntington’s disease. 

Yet, as I remember all of this, I am acutely aware that somewhere lurking deeply was the prayer that a cure would be found to help my father.  I had to settle for the newer medications that controlled the involuntary movements, so I was spared seeing my father become like his mother, my grandmother, who literally shook to death.

And my involvement with this disease is not over.  My father’s sister had the disease and died last year and my younger brother is dying from the disease now, in a nursing home in Northwest Pennsylvania.  While my youngest brother and I will not get the disease – we’ve been tested – and none of my children or descendants will get the disease, there are a number of people in my family who have not been tested.

How I would have given anything to have this inevitable outcome for my father removed. 

Not only in our Gospel today, but in the passages immediately preceding, Jesus makes it clear he knows what’s coming.  The outcome is inevitable.  In Luke, it says, he set his face to go to Jerusalem…. (Luke 9:51)  There is no turning back…no changing what is to come. 

While I have my particular stories, haven’t there been times in your life when you know something hard, difficult and challenging is coming?  I think Jesus provides us with ways to face the inevitable difficult times.  What does Jesus do?

  1.  Pray.  Time and again, we read how Jesus withdrew to a place to pray.  Here he is, facing betrayal by the ones he loved, and he goes to this beautiful olive grove and prays.  And he pours his heart out to God…maybe even pleading or arguing with God – isn’t there another way?  He tells God exactly how he’s feeling.  We can get hung up on the right way to pray, but Jesus has given us the Lord’s Prayer and also this prayer in the garden – just tell God what is in your heart, no matter what.
  2. Surround yourself with people who love you.  Now, this community Jesus was with certainly had its flaws and especially during this time in his life.  Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him, one of them cut off the ear of the High Priest’s slave.  The three who came with Jesus to the garden couldn’t keep awake! No, they weren’t perfect.  And it was Jesus’ followers who stood at the foot of the cross.  It was Jesus’ followers who took down his body and prepared it for the grave.  It was His followers who came that morning to find him in the tomb.  It was his followers who told the story over and over, even when they faced terrible deaths, so that we today know the story.  Though our friends and family may not be perfect and sometimes feel like they do more damage than good, overall, we need this human community and these relationships, especially during the tough times.
  3. Trust your soul to God.  Jesus ends his plea with, “not what I want, but what you want.” He trusted his soul and his very life to God.  What Jesus went through was awful.  He probably could have fought against the people who tortured him.  Maybe he could have pleaded with Pilate or made a great argument to sway Pilate.  But he did not do that.  He relied upon God.  He kept his calm, even refusing to speak.  “But Jesus was silent,” the Word says.  Jesus knew who he was and whose he was.  Jesus relied on God.  He knew no human could fully understand what was happening.  There were no words that could be heard by humans.  He knew that no human beings could take away his dignity, nor separate him from the love of God.

One thing we know about this life…the hard, difficult times will come.  And sometimes we surely see them coming and can do nothing to stop them.  You may see other things in how Jesus lived during these last days that will help you during those times.  Prayer, community and trusting in God may not stop the inevitable; and prayer, community and trusting in God, do give us a way through. 

Amen. 

 

 

In Dialogue with Jesus (sermon) March 30, 2014

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Sermon – March 30, 2014
The Rev. Rebecca S. Myers, CSW
St. John’s Episcopal Church, Corbin, KY
Fourth Sunday in Lent

I have told you already, and you would not listen. John 9:27

Please be seated.

The physical act of seeing is a tricky thing.  When I was on the School Board in Harrisburg, a man came to give us a presentation about quality improvement.  Part of the presentation was a movie.  I can’t remember the name of the movie, but I have never forgotten one of the parts of that movie.  It showed a person dealing cards very quickly.  The action happened twice and we were told to look very carefully.  It was just a hand dealing cards.  Then they slowed down the action and it turned out all of the colors of each suit were reversed, so the hearts and diamonds were black and the spades and clubs were red!  It was astounding to know that I refused to see the reality, because it conflicted with all of my experience and belief. 

We see that in our Gospel story today, don’t we?  Jesus challenges the worldview of an entire community by healing a man who was blind from birth.  The people in the town have a difficult time accepting this miracle.  It does not fit in with what they know.  It conflicts with their experience and belief.  Instead of rejoicing with the man, they debate and work hard to deny what has occurred. 

Yesterday, a group of us gathered in the parish hall for training on Ministry Support Teams.  These are teams set up in Network parishes to support the Priest-in-Charge.  People and priests from Emanuel, Winchester and St. Mary’s, Middlesboro were also at the training.  One piece of the training was about the difference between debate and dialogue.   

Now, just in the words, there is a fundamental difference.  The word “debate” comes from a French word meaning to fight or to beat down.  Dialogue goes back to Latin and Greek meaning to “speak through” or “through words.” 

The goal of debate is to win against your opponent.  In a debate, when you listen, it is only to counter what the other person says, to find the weakness in the argument, especially so you can discount and devalue it.  In debate, you make assumptions about another person’s experience and motivations.  At the very beginning of the Gospel, the disciples, speaking in the worldview of their time, ask Jesus, “who sinned, this man or his parents….?”  The assumption was that sin was the cause of the man’s blindness.  Because Jesus healed on the Sabbath, some discounted the healing, saying it was not from God.

In debate you ask questions to trip up your opponent or confuse them on the issue.  This happened to Jesus a lot.  In debate, you interrupt the other speaker or change the subject.  You are not concerned about the person, but only about your next point.  You deny the other person’s experience, saying it is distorted or invalid.  Look at our story today where people continually ask the man who had been blind how he was healed.  He had to keep telling them the story.  His parents were called in to authenticate his identity.  When the man insists on what occurred…on his experience, they drive him out of the town. 

Why do we insist on debate, instead of dialogue?  Kathryn Schulz studied why we as humans insist that our way of looking at things is right…why we have such trouble admitting when we are wrong.  She wrote a book, Being Wrong.  She also has a TED talk online.  One of the things she says is that early in life, we internalize that “getting something wrong means there’s something wrong with us. So we just insist that we’re right, because it makes us feel smart and responsible and virtuous and safe.”  (http://www.ted.com/talks/kathryn_schulz_on_being_wrong/transcript)  She says we live in this “tiny, terrified space of rightness.”  Our love of debate is about being in this “tiny, terrified space of rightness.” 

Where we need to be, and truly where we have tremendous capacity to be…where Jesus calls us to be…is in dialogue.  The goal of dialogue is an increased understanding of ourselves and of others.  When we listen, we’re trying to understand the other person.  We listen for strengths to affirm the other person and to learn.  We speak from our own experience and understanding, rather than from the assumptions we’ve made about others.  We ask questions to increase understanding.  We allow others to complete their communications.  We concentrate on the other person’s words and feelings.  We accept others’ experiences as real and valid for them.  We respect and are open to how the other person expresses their real feelings and how we express our feelings as a way of understanding and catharsis.

In our Gospel today, the man who had been blind is engaging in dialogue, while those around him are engaging in debate.  The man’s experience is so powerful, he is thrust out of the “tiny, terrified space of rightness,” probably the space he had been living in, to a new place.  That’s the power of dialogue.  Dialogue can transform us.  Dialogue makes us grow.  Dialogue changes everyone who is involved in the discussion.  It opens us up. 

In dialogue we honor our own experiences as valid; we trust others to respect our differences; we trust ourselves to be able to hear different points of view; we open ourselves up to the pain of others, as well as the pain we feel ourselves; we see Christ in others. 

When we are in dialogue, we can grow.  We can agree to disagree – to know that we can look at the same facts or situation and come to different conclusions or slightly different places, yet still be in community together…to still be in communion with each other.

That’s what Jesus asks.  We come with our assumptions about life.  With the way things are supposed to be and Jesus says, “consider this.”  Look at the world in a new way.  Don’t debate me, but be in dialogue with me…in connection with me, he pleads.  The man who was blind remains in dialogue with Jesus.  He is open.  Jesus asks him whether he believes in the Son of Man and the man who had been blind, asks a question to learn more.  Receiving an answer, he professes his belief. 

In Ephesians, the writer provides us with the fruits of dialogue, “but now in the Lord you are light.”  We are light to the world.  When we can leave debate behind and engage in dialogue, we are transformed and live as children of the light.

Amen

 

 

 

 

 

“We Have Found the Messiah” (Sermon) January 19, 2014

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Sermon – January 19, 2014
The Rev. Rebecca S. Myers, CSW
St. John’s Episcopal Church, Corbin
2nd Sunday after Ephiphany

“We have found the Messiah…” John 1:41

Please be seated

We have found the Messiah…. Can you imagine any person who would compel you to leave everything you know… to abandon your job, your family and all of your worldly goods to walk the land with this person?  But that’s what we hear about in our Gospel reading today (and also next week.)  “We have found the Messiah,” Andrew says, and he and his brother Peter follow.

During those times the Messiah was going to restore Israel and the faith in God.  In many ways, the Messiah was understood as the most righteous and perfect ruler…someone with political, as well as, physical strength.  The land and people would be protected from their many enemies – you see Israel was the land between many great powers to the north, south and east.  And during Jesus’ time, the Roman Empire was oppressing the people.  They wanted relief. 

So here is Jesus and something about him makes John the Baptist, and Andrew and then Peter hope that the new ruler has come.  The perfect King, the powerful political ruler.  That is the only way they understood restoration…that Israel would become powerful as a nation…that no one would be able defeat the nation and in so doing, the people would have a good life and God would be glorified.  People would see the nation of Israel and its power and want to follow and worship its God. 

They wanted saved from the wars by the powerful nations around them by becoming the most powerful themselves.   But God understood the world differently and Jesus came to give us a new way to live and to think about our lives, a new paradigm of the world and of our relationship to God. 

A few years ago after reading the passage in Matthew about Jesus riding into Jerusalem with shouts of Hosanna and palms and cloaks strewn on the path, I wrote the following poem:

After reading Matthew 21:1-11
By Rebecca S. Myers

We are always looking for a
Savior to save us from other people
When what we need
Is a savior
Who saves us from ourselves.

It is so easy to point the finger at things external to us as being “what’s wrong.”  So we work to change our external circumstances.

“Well, Corbin hasn’t worked out so well, maybe I should move,” we say, and off we go.  In 12-step circles, this is called a geographic cure.  We think a new job will make the difference or maybe different friends.  Now, don’t get me wrong, all of these things can be good.  It’s not the actions so much, it’s our interior state in pursuing those changes that is the difference.

Because as the saying goes, “Wherever you go, there you are.”  In other words, we need to do the interior work on ourselves.  Changing our external conditions without doing the internal work doesn’t really change much in the end. 

What are the things about you that Jesus comes to liberate you from? 

Here are some of mine.  I call them “lies I tell myself:”

I have to do this all by myself.  Yes, being responsible and taking care of myself is important, but I can take self reliance too far.  I can fail to ask for help or suggestions because after all, I am the Executive Director…I am the priest.  My ability to accomplish a lot is why people chose me for this position, isn’t it?  Doesn’t it mean I’m weak or incompetent if I need to ask for help?

What a dangerous trap that is!  Even Jesus had twelve Apostles and many more followers.  We don’t see that he necessarily asked them for help, more often he taught them, but he still had people around him AND he created that community so that when he was no longer with them, they had each other.  We were made for relationship.  We each have different ideas and perspectives.  No one of us has the ONLY line to God.  Reaching out and including others, makes for a better discussion and ultimately a better path. 

I must remind myself I do not have to do this all by myself and then, who can help.  Once I open up, in my experience, God has led me to the people who can help. 

Another one for me, that is part of the previous one, is I can be perfect.  Yes, I need to continue to grow and change, but honestly, there are some things that are never going to happen for me.  For instance, I make snap judgments, and as a board president of mine observed, I don’t suffer fools gladly.  The look I make when I think you’ve said about the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard has been caught on camera, even.

My former husband and I had an outdoor wedding in a field at my parents’ home at the time.  We had jazz music playing and we picked a number that would be the “entrance” number – it was “Night and Day” by Dave Brubeck.  My husband and I were walking down the aisle together.  He panicked, believing we’d missed our cue and started walking in front of me slightly.  I gave him that “look” and said in my sternest voice, “Don’t you walk in front of me!” And the photographer caught that moment!  So, I know that look!  The World According to Rebecca. 

Rather than beating myself up about my judgmentalism, I can accept it is part of my nature.  In my experience, acceptance brings many benefits.  Once I accept myself as I am, then the way to lessen those harmful traits appears.  Knowing I’ve been judgmental in a situation, thinking what another person is doing is foolish, for instance, I can explore that.  I can ask questions about why I’m feeling my way is the only way.  Does that come from fear, for instance? 

Ultimately, I know I need God.  Only God is perfect and I’m not God and never will be.  Only with God’s help can I be the best God needs me to be.  Also, because I accept that I am imperfect, I can also accept other people’s imperfections.  When I can forgive myself for being judgmental in a situation, I can forgive others. 

My way is the only way to do things, gets me into trouble too.  My mother came to help me when my daughter was about a month old.  My son was under 2 years of age, so things were pretty hectic.  One day my mother was washing the dishes.  Now, I’ve never really liked washing dishes, so this was a great gift.  Yet, I remember standing in the kitchen doorway with this little baby in my arms, going nuts inside.  My mother was not washing the dishes correctly.  The water she was using was not hot enough! 

Unfortunately, this is something handed down to me.  One time I was visiting my grandmother.  She had heart trouble and was not supposed to be doing any housework.  I washed her sheets, which she always hung out to dry in good weather.  I hung clothes out to dry.  I knew how to do it.  I was hanging the sheets on the line and she was standing at the back door, telling me what to hang next to each other and how to do it.

Yes, it can be so difficult to let someone else do something for us.  It can be so difficult to accept a way that in the end accomplishes the goal, just not exactly how we would have done it.  When we think our way is the only way, we close ourselves off to the gifts of others.  We don’t allow them to share their gifts with us.  Ultimately, we become tired and overwhelmed trying to do everything.  On top of taking care of two little ones, doing the dishes probably would have done me in.   Doing laundry and hanging those sheets up could have made my grandmother much sicker.

Jesus comes not to save us from some external power.  Jesus comes to save us from ourselves – from our illusions of perfection and total self reliance.  Jesus comes to save us, because in saving us, we are open to God’s dream and vision of our world.  We are willing to accept God’s guidance.  We are willing to do God’s Will.

“We have found the Messiah,” we shout!  Thanks Be To God!

Amen