An Elliptical Glory: July 2009

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Mixing Metaphors (Proper 11 B) (Ps. 23)

Mixing Metaphors
Seventh after Pentecost (Proper 11 B)
19th July 2009
Parish Church of St. John the Baptist, Seattle, Washington
8:00 a.m. Eucharist, 10:15 a.m. Choral Eucharist
RCL B 2nd cycle: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Psalm 23; Ephesians 2:11-22; Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

God, let us not accept the judgment that this is all that we are. Breathe into us a desire to change and faith that we all can. Take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.

Years ago, a friend of ours told us the story of how she grew up as a hearing child of two deaf parents. She was a gifted singer, and regularly sang in one of the state’s best high school choirs. Her parents attended every one of her performances. Once, other parents asked them why they came to all her concerts since they couldn’t hear her. “Oh,” they replied through an interpreter, “we don’t come to hear her sing. We come to see her sing. We are so proud of her.”

The image of our friend’s deaf parents admiringly going to see her sing tells me a great deal about love.

We are creatures of words and images. We tell stories, draw comparisons. We think and feel in metaphor and simile. We define ourselves in large part by the stories we choose to tell and not to tell, and by the images we choose to describe our world.

What images do you use to think of God?

A sovereign monarch, or a parent?

A supernatural being standing apart from the phenomenal universe, or the ground in which we live, and move, and have our being?

An intimate, or some abstract power?

A vindicator of the oppressed?

A law-giver and enforcer? Or a healer?

Is God for you a redundancy, a useless story that really doesn’t tell us anything about the world as it actually is?

Or does your God have the face of Jesus?

We need to reflect on the images we use to think and feel about God and the world. Are they useful? Are they healthy? Are they true?

We mustn’t take metaphors literally. That robs them of their ability to tell us what we need. “God as a parent” could mean a loving nurturer or an abusive domestic tyrant. We need to recognize the true point of a comparison or we risk being misled.

Today’s readings are rich in images. Jeremiah talks about the last kings of Judah as careless, harmful shepherds, and counters this with the assurance of an ideal future king who will safely shepherd his people.

The beloved 23rd Psalm describes God as a loving shepherd and a gracious host.

And Saint Mark in the Gospel says that Jesus, in a short foray into Gentile territory, looked at the crowds with pity, because they were “like sheep that had lost their shepherd,” and then he teaches and heals them.

Today’s epistle doesn’t use the image “shepherd” like the other passages. St. Paul describes the inclusion of Gentiles as well as Jews in the early Church by saying Christ is “our peace” who “broke down the wall dividing us.” Later, John’s Gospel would describe this same event by having Jesus say he is the Good Shepherd and add “Other sheep I have, which are not of this flock: them also I must bring, and they too shall hear my voice; and there shall be one flock, and one shepherd” (John 10:16).

Today’s passages together suggest that despite difficulty, hardship, or horror, we must trust God, in whose hand we all are. This trust must lead us to transcend ourselves, and reach out to others.

No metaphor is perfect, so we often end up mixing them to make the point of comparison clear.

Most people today have never seen a shepherd, and so they do not find Psalm 23’s image of a shepherd very helpful. But they understand its image of a gracious host. Think of a concrete example you know of a gracious host, and what that person does to make the guest comfortable. The Palmist says that’s what God is like.

An authentic image helps describe reality, not create a false picture in the place of it.

Jeremiah does not say that since God established the kings of Judah, they can do no wrong. He openly admits how rotten things are, and accuses those who attribute this to God’s will. He admits how wrong things are, but declares hope nonetheless, shifting it to a future ideal king.

Psalm 23 expresses trust in the here and now. The reason people find it so comforting in times of trouble is that even as it expresses trust and hope, it mentions things that cause doubt and fear. It takes seriously the dangers that are very much a part of life: the valley of the shadow of death; the enemies that surround, even at a banquet. Psalm 23 does not falsify the harsh reality of life but does not let hope get swallowed by it.

Contrast this with the common use made of the image of a God who hears and answers prayers, blesses the righteous, and punishes the wicked. Many seem to think that this describes how life is, period. Oh, if it were only that simple! The Book of Deuteronomy, the historical books of the Hebrew Bible, and Proverbs seem to teach this, but the Book of Job and Ecclesiastes clearly disagree.

Rabbi Harold Kushner, author of When Bad Things Happen to Good People, says
the twenty-third Psalm is the answer to the question, “How do you live in a dangerous, unpredictable, frightening world?” Right after 9/11, many people asked him “How could God have let such a thing happen?” His answer was “God's promise was never that life would be fair. God's promise was, when it's your turn to confront the unfairness of life, no matter how hard it is, you'll be able to handle it, because He'll be on your side. He will give you the strength you need to find your way through. … “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.” [does not mean], “I will fear no evil because evil only happens to people who deserve it.” [Rather,] “This is a scary, out-of-control world, but it doesn't scare me, because I know that God is on my side, not on the side of the . . . the terrible thing that [has] happened. And that's enough to give me the confidence.”

Trusting the living God despite our woes (or is it because of them?), we realize that we all are in God’s hand. And if we all are the people of God’s pasture and the sheep of God’s hand, then certainly we must reach out to all.

The surest way we can demonstrate our trust in this loving shepherd is by loving. The most direct way of showing our gratitude for our gracious host is by being gracious to others, especially those most unlike us.

George Herbert

Anglican Divine George Herbert developed the image of God as a gracious host in these words:

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lacked anything.
‘A guest,’ I answered, ‘worthy to be here’:
Love said, ‘You shall be he.’
‘I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee.’
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
‘Who made the eyes but I?’
‘Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.’
‘And know you not,’ says Love, ‘who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat’:
So I did sit and eat.