Gone too Far Jesus
Proper 16B
26 August 2018; 8:00 a.m. Said Mass and 10:00 a.m. Sung Mass
26 August 2018; 8:00 a.m. Said Mass and 10:00 a.m. Sung Mass
Homily Delivered by the Very Rev. Fr. Tony Hutchinson, SCP,
Ph.D.
at Trinity Parish Church, Ashland, Oregon
God, take away our hearts of stone, and give us hearts of
flesh. Amen.
In all the accolades for Senator
John McCain, who died yesterday, I was reminded of how he said he survived
intact seven years of harsh imprisonment in Hanoi: “I had faith in God, and I
had faith in my fellow prisoners.” Note
the polarity here: God and our
fellows. We often find in life that the
golden mean, the via media, the one way through troubles is to take the path
between Scylla and Charybdis, or the way between two extremes.
We see it in the tension in today’s
lessons: The Hebrew Scriptures have
Joshua proclaiming absolute monotheism and blasting those who would go astray
from this. The Gospel has people
rejecting Jesus because he has talked crazily about eating his flesh and
drinking his blood, and weakened such a monotheism.
Jesus often offended and outraged
those about him. He often heard, “Jesus, now you’ve gone too far!”
In Mark 3, Jesus’ family thinks he
has gone insane. When he comes back from
his baptism and the 40 day retreat, instead of returning to them as a dutiful
son and brother, he begins his wandering ministry. “Jesus,
now you’ve gone too far!”
In Matthew 19, Jesus forbids divorce
in most if not all circumstances. His
own disciples reply, “Well if that’s the case, it’s better never to have
married.” “Jesus, now you’ve gone too far!”
Several times Jesus’ opponents
criticize him for keeping open table fellowship with known sinners, and unclean
people. They blast him for spending all
his time with drunks, sex workers, and profiteering traitors. He replies that God himself is gracious to
sinner and righteous alike, and that it is the sick, not the healthy, who need
a doctor. “Jesus, now you’ve gone too far!”
In John 8, a crowd tries to stone
Jesus to death because he has said that he was older and greater than
Abraham. In John 10, another crowd tries
to do the same after he says, “the Father and I are one.” In the passion narratives, Jesus’ accusers
tear their hair and rend their clothes, saying “he has blasphemed!” “Jesus,
now you’ve really gone too far!”
So also in today’s Gospel
reading—Jesus says people must eat his body and drink his blood in order to
have everlasting life. Many disciples
say, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” As they leave Jesus replies, “Does this
offend you? How will you react when you see just who I really am?” He asks the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” The best Peter can answer is “And just where
else can we go at this point?”
All of these stories suggest that
there comes a point in all people’s interaction with Jesus where they reach a
tipping point, where a single word or action by Jesus is just so outrageous
that they can no longer put up with him.
Some leave Jesus. Others plot to
silence him. In the end, others nail Jesus to the cross.
Modern biblical criticism has
pointed out well that only part of this reflects the historical Jesus before
his death, while much reflects the Christ of faith of Jesus’s followers,
talking and writing after mature reflection on the Easter events.
Jesus in his earthly life did not
have a clear vision of what would happen at Calvary and on Easter Sunday. His preaching and ministry focused on God’s
Reign, not on himself. The Romans killed
Jesus for insurrection, not blasphemy.
Much of Jesus’ emphasis on his own person in John’s Gospel actually
reflects the later insights of the Church.
That said, the Historical Jesus
almost certainly believed that the Kingdom of God was breaking into human
history in his own person, and that this would lead to his own death. Trusting in God to save his servants and redeem
even their deadly sufferings, he persevered and took his challenge to the
powers that be in Jerusalem.
There, Jesus celebrated one last
meal with his close followers at the time of the Passover festival. Jesus likely pointed to the usual Passover
meal symbols, the “bread of affliction” and the wine of the “cup of blessing,”
and gave them new meaning. “This surely will end with my death, with my body
over here (pointing to bread of
affliction) and my blood over here
(pointing to cup of blessing). What I will now suffer is true affliction
and true blessing. Share this bread and
wine with me. Eat my flesh and drink my
blood.”
After the Easter events, this took
on completely new meanings.
This push-the-envelope practice of open
table fellowship, this personalization of the redemption of Israel, and near
insane talk about cannibalism as communion was revolting to some people around
Jesus. “Jesus, now you’ve gone too far!”
Most of the time, Jesus has gone too
far because he is too open, too broad in his understanding, too inclusive. They accuse him of blasphemy because calling
God Abba, Jesus has brought God too close, and challenged monotheism. As John 5:18 puts it, he was “thereby making
himself equal to God.”
I was raised in a tradition that
often quoted the Joshua text and said it meant that there was only one true
way, and you had to follow the Lord or be damned. “Choose this day whom you shall
serve: Yahweh, or the pagan idols, life
or death!”
But the fact is, Biblical faith is
pluralistic faith, despite its moments of monism. I love the fact that our scripture is called
the Holy Bible, ta biblia ta hagia,
which means the Sacred library, the Holy little books, and NOT the ONE, TRUE,
HARMONIOUS, AND INFALLIBLE-IN-ALL-ITS-DETAILS BOOK.
I like the fact that we have four gospels, all very much in glorious disharmony and at odds with each other on some very basic points, and that this diversity is the very starting point of our discussions about the historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith.
I stand in awe of the glorious doctrine of the Holy Trinity, where the one and only God, monistic by definition, is tempered and modulated by a society of three persons in one being, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, eternally dancing and processing, eternally relating, and calling us into the dance.
Christian faith is pluralistic faith.
I like the fact that we have four gospels, all very much in glorious disharmony and at odds with each other on some very basic points, and that this diversity is the very starting point of our discussions about the historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith.
I stand in awe of the glorious doctrine of the Holy Trinity, where the one and only God, monistic by definition, is tempered and modulated by a society of three persons in one being, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, eternally dancing and processing, eternally relating, and calling us into the dance.
Christian faith is pluralistic faith.
And I am very, very pleased that
today’s gospel tells us to keep an open mind and heart about new things we
learn from God. We must not draw red
lines that, once crossed, will force us to say, “Now you’ve gone too far, Jesus.”
I remember my reaction when my
children first mentioned around the dinner table, 20 years ago, the need to
honor the loving and monogamous relationships of same sex couples by celebrating
marriages for them. It was a few months
after our daughter had come out of the closet.
I thought I was being very open minded and liberal by not rejecting her. But when she talked about same sex marriage, I thought (and probably, alas,
said,) “Now you’ve gone too far!” I felt that holy matrimony was somehow being
demeaned and cheapened by spreading it or something like it to what I had been
taught all my youth was deficient, unnatural, perverted, and sinful. But thank God I remained open minded and
open hearted. I have been blessed to
celebrate at the weddings of several friends and family members—gay and lesbian
couples. These have been great spiritual
high points for me. Thanks be to God,
who moves in wondrous and mysterious ways to bless his children.
It is important not to forget the
value and truth of Joshua’s words as well.
Without a clear sense of monotheism, of the unity and uniqueness of God, the doctrines of the Holy Trinity and
of the Incarnation make no sense.
Without a sense of sanctity of matrimony and of the union of two people,
of human love, and the importance of exclusive, monogamous, dedicated
relationships, marriage of any kind doesn’t make much sense either.
Those of us who pray the rosary
recognize the spirituality of navigating between two poles: our hands count the prayers on the beads, our
mouth says the prayers. But our minds are
directed to the mysteries--joyous, luminous, sorrowful, and glorious-- all scenes from our Lord’s life. This technique of pursuing two tracks at once very quickly breaks open a
space in our hearts and minds that lets the spirit in and takes us to the
presence of God.
Even
in the horrible scandal of priestly abuse now seeming to overwhelm the
church, a simple polarity could have prevented it. Jesus taught us to
be smart as snakes and harmless as doves. Those abusing priests and
malicious covering-up prelates were harmful, and the well intending
prelates covering up to prevent scandal and hurt to the church, well,
they were not smart at all, ignorant of even the basic issues and ethics
of preventing and eliminating sexual misconduct.
Similarly, the Hebrew Scriptures have two great competing traditions: the priests on the one side focus on purity, law, and sacrifice, while on the other side the prophets talk about social justice. As Walter Bruggeman had pointed out, the priests without the prophets are empty ritualism and legalism. The prophets without the priests’ focus on holiness drawing us beyond ourselves rapidly devolved into tawdry interest groups politics. It takes both poles to create a field where we can grow and come closer to God. The one thing we must remember is never to simply toss out one or the other, to say, this does not suit me. I’m out of here.
Similarly, the Hebrew Scriptures have two great competing traditions: the priests on the one side focus on purity, law, and sacrifice, while on the other side the prophets talk about social justice. As Walter Bruggeman had pointed out, the priests without the prophets are empty ritualism and legalism. The prophets without the priests’ focus on holiness drawing us beyond ourselves rapidly devolved into tawdry interest groups politics. It takes both poles to create a field where we can grow and come closer to God. The one thing we must remember is never to simply toss out one or the other, to say, this does not suit me. I’m out of here.
“Now you’ve gone too far!” When do you say this to those you love? When have you said it to God, to Jesus?
This week in your prayer and quiet
time, think about this, and ask whether this is part of a healthy monism or an
unhealthy one, and whether you should broaden your mind and open your
heart.
In the name of Christ, Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment