THE STONE THAT THE BUILDERS REJECTED HAS BECOME THE CORNERSTONE
I was meditating on this passage, which has occurred so often in our liturgy of late, and thinking what it could specially mean to me. I thought of the quote mainly at first because of "Brideshead Revisited", where the hero has to put aside his love for his married mistress because of her Catholic faith. He, formerly an unbeliever, then becomes a Catholic convert. The Catholic Church is the stone that the builders rejected in that case. So, I thought, in my present life with the decision to give up the car, what is the stone being rejected that will be the cornerstone? That is exactly my dilemma. There is a life without driving. I have lived it but little in my life, timewise, since I was twenty. I love to drive. I thought of the time in Seattle when I was visiting Alexander at Christmas, and my purse was stolen the first day. The train ticket was not stolen; I'd put it in the dresser before we went out that day. In the purse was everything else I had; my Amex credit card and about 200.00. And that was it. I was dismayed big time, but after I'd made the necessary phone calls, I decided to accept it. I had to just accept that I was living as a child in my son's household. I walked around with my hands in my pockets, unable to pay for anything. I'd planned to impress them with a great dinner out "on Mama." And to buy them something nice each, and together perhaps a new blanket which I'd pay off when I went back to school after Christmas, paying it off on my teacher's salary...Impossible with no money and no credit card. They paid for everything (and they had almost no money!) But they did not complain and neither did I. I just went along and had a wonderful visit. I had my return train ticket and when he put me on the train to go home, I said, "Alex, I hate to ask you but I have not one cent to get food on the way home or any other need...," and he put his hand in his pocket and gave me all the money he had, a twenty dollar bill. His girlfriend had made me a nice sack lunch to bring on the train, so I was fine from then on.... The stone that the builders had rejected, I have now decided, is 'myself, not driving.' Me, being dependent for transportation on others, whether by charity or Uber or el bos, --however it's managed, I will not be driving. How to live with this circumstance with grace? How to make this stage of life into the cornerstone, solid and true and pure? And as pleasant and enjoyable as that visit in Seattle long ago with Alex and his girlfriend, because I accepted circumstance and let go? My vision may get bad anough that I cannot try to function without the operation...another challenge. I may need to move to a communal living situation due to loneliness...another challenge...Maybe if I do get the operation I can drive again should I choose...another challenge. For now, I can think more, play piano more, sing more, garden more, paint more, read more (bless the Kindle!!) write more, clean up the house more, get organized more, study more, be on the computer more, and maybe get a puppy. No longer can I jump into the car and go kill time at the Goodwill, nor search for the elusive Komodo Dragon...nor peruse old antique stores...but who knows? Life is openingup, not closing down. That is the attitude I will take. Changes, new life, new cornerstones! -Linda Longoria-Neff Jesus said to Pontius Pilate, “I was born and came into the world for this reason: to testify to the truth. Whoever accepts the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate responded, “What is truth?” I wonder whether Pilate was looking up, down, or at Jesus when he said that; his facial expression could tell us what was going through his mind. Unfortunately, the Gospel writer John doesn’t tell us. I am going to assume Pilate was looking up, wondering, in general, what is truth. I was asked the same question on Sunday by several folks. And now, with my eyes looking upward and stroking my imaginary beard, I am wondering, too.
Facts and truth are not interchangeable. Jesus didn’t say, “I testify to the facts; whoever accepts the facts listens to my voice.” Here is a fact: the earth is made of substance. Here is some truth: God created all things, visible and invisible (stuff with and without substance). I don’t think many people are willing to die for facts; some will die for the truth. Today’s society seems to believe that truth is subjective. One person’s truth may not be another’s. Is Jesus testifying to a perspective? Is it subjective? If so, we can listen to someone speaking “their” truth. I believe there is The Truth, not subjectively based on someone’s perspective but something that is undeniable. The Truth cannot be owned, held, locked down, hidden, or kept in secret. The Truth will shine, and, (say it with me) the truth will set you free. Frederick Buechner wrote, “In the long run, our stories overlap and mingle like searchlights in the dark. All our stories are in the end one story, one vast story about being human, being together, being here. What is the truth of this never-ending, sprawling story we are?” I think truth is a distinctive combination of facts and experience. Jesus is the sum of all creation, experience, knowledge and wisdom. He is intertwined with our stories and with us being together and being here. Truth is both an external point on the horizon on which we fix our eyes and an internal point of experience and understanding. In my mind’s eye, Pilate is neither fixed on the horizon nor in touch with his own gut understanding and experience. His wife insisted that he, “Have nothing to do with that man,” because she had a vision that showed who Jesus is. Even then, Pilate failed to voice his inquiry about truth to the only human who could have answered. I believe that God created everything. There are many who don’t. Does that give both our truths equal merit, footing, and weight? Because I can stack fact upon fact and add a little faith in for good measure, does that make my truth better than the dissenting truth? Is someone willing to die for their truth that God didn’t create everything? I don’t think there can be competing truths. Either it is one way or the other. My dad and I can read the same book and have different experiences but the truth remains there is a book that we shared. Perhaps Jesus testifies to the sum of all experiences called The Truth. The Light of the World can see all the searchlights of our life. The great I Am knows our light, our experiences and our faith. Like individual strands of yarn, the Good Shepherd knits our stories together into one big tapestry of experience and life. And, the truth is he loves the whole and each individual strand. -Fr. Dave Words are building blocks but can also be weapons. Words can build and tear down. The pen is mightier than the sword but spoken words can be mightier than both. The words “I do” start a sacramental union. We even remember the first words gurgled by a baby. In a spiritual sense, the word, “Word,” has many meanings – it is the Word that became flesh (Jesus); it is Scripture; it is the power of God through which all things were made. “In the beginning God said, ‘Let there be light.’” All creation was spoken into being. Words are mas importante.
What we read matters. What we say matters. What we pray, matters, a lot. Words of prayer + Word of the Lord + Faith = mountains moved. As your spiritual doctor, this past Sunday I gave out a prescription that detailed God’s Word for health and wholeness – fourteen prayers that can be said in less than five minutes. The prescription is to be spoken by mouth, three times a day until faith comes, then once a day to maintain faith. There are no harmful side effects but it is habit forming. After the sermon, some said the prescription is free of charge, like God’s grace, but there is a co-pay. The patient has to “pay” attention to praying. The first prayer shows the relationship between prayer and the Word of God. It reads, “Jesus is the Lord of my life. Sickness and disease have no power over me. I am forgiven and free from sin and guilt. I am dead to sin and alive in righteousness.” It is a prayerful response based upon what Paul wrote to the Colossians, “You used to be far from God. Your thoughts made you his enemies, and you did evil things. But his Son became a human and died. So God made peace with you, and now he lets you stand in his presence as people who are holy and faultless and innocent.” (1:21-22) The Word of God declares we are “holy, faultless and innocent” and the prayer responds that we are “forgiven and free.” Scripture says because of Jesus we are dead to sin. The prayer says because of Jesus we are alive in righteousness. Western scientific thinking in the 21st century has turned the Bible into a specimen to be studied. If you want to understand it, study it more. God’s Word as medicine helps us see the relationship between the Word, our bodies, and our faith. Because Scripture says we are free from guilt, our prayer is to remind our body and mind that we are forgiven and free. There is a place for the study of Scripture, but when it comes to health, a daily read-reflect-pray model is paramount. Another one of the prayers is this, “As God was with Moses, so is God with me. My eyes are not dim; neither are my natural forces abated. Blessed are my eyes for the see and my ears for they hear.” It is based on Deuteronomy 34:7, “Moses was one hundred twenty years old when he died; his sight was unimpaired and his vigor had not abated.” As a reaction to this passage we pray that “As God was with Moses, so is God with me…” This is the power of the Word through which all things were created. Taken like medicine, daily and repeated, it has the power to move mountains. Words matter. They can build, give life and create sacramental relationships. And, bear in mind, praying the Word is habit forming. -Fr. Dave The prescription for God's medicine can be found here: gods_medicine.pdf The theme of the sermon this past Sunday, “Try Again,” was taken from a book I am writing, a Christian pastoral response to global ecological change. In the book, the principle of try again relates to the manner in which God has set up our ecology. We are always given opportunities to stop polluting, to stop adding garbage to the floating island of plastic in the South Pacific, to continue to conserve water, to seek alternative ways of textile manufacturing and to reduce the amount of carbon being released into the atmosphere through large scale manufacturing and daily commutes. Each time we pollute, the earth responds, “Try again.” Each time I purchase a coffee with a non-recyclable cup, instead of using my reusable cup, the environment says, “Try again.” We get another opportunity, another season, to act with stewardship of the earth in order to fulfill God’s first command, “Let us make humankind in our image so they can care for creation.” (Gen 1:26)
I can expand the try again principle to summarize the Gospel message. Jesus told many people to try again – the disciples in the feeding of the 5,000 (“Send them away? No, try again. You feed them.”); the parable of the gardener whose tree didn’t produce fruit; Judas when he rebuked Mary for anointing Jesus’ feet with costly perfume; the men who dragged a woman caught in adultery to the feet of Jesus; Peter when he tried to walk on water, and when he rebuked Jesus, and when he wouldn’t let Jesus wash his feet, and when he drew his sword and cut of the ear of a servant, and when he denied that he knew Jesus. Each time, Jesus said, “Try again.” In the Old Testament, there are numerous stories in which God repeats the same phrase. Adam and Eve had two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain was sent away because he killed Abel. God, with tears in his eyes, said to the grieving first couple, try again. Moses tried to get the Israelites to revolt before God was ready; he killed an Egyptian guard expecting the Israelites to begin an uprising. They didn’t. He fled to a far-off country to tend sheep owned by his father-in-law. Decades later, he saw a burning bush. God spoke to him out of the bush, “Try again.” The great prophet Elijah ran away. He hid in a cave. God sent an earthquake, a windstorm, and a wildfire. Then, in the gentle breeze, Elijah heard God say, “Try again.” One joy of preaching is that I get to talk about a theological principle and then get feedback on it. The reaction to this message surprised me. Many folks said that God is telling them to respond to others with the phrase, try again. For instance, our lighting contractor is not getting the vision of what we want done in the sanctuary. Instead of dumping this contractor, I was reminded, “Shouldn’t we ask them to try again.” My older son told my younger son to try again (when he was frustrated about something). Here I was trying spread the good news of the Gospel that because God is full of grace and patience we get second chances when we mess up. Yet, just like our ecology does with us each time pollute, and as Jesus invites us each time we miss the mark, I was shown that following Christ means that we ought not to cut off others; rather, we should simply invite them to try again. -Fr. Dave I have been told that I look like my mom and act like my dad. I think about both of them many times a day but this Reflection is about him and how close we are. I recently described my dad as a combination of Mr. Rogers (of PBS fame) and the Man of Steel.
The Mr. Rogers nickname came from his high school biology students. He often wore cardigans, but it was temperance that earned him the nick name. Dad could instantly calm students down with his steadying demeanor and voice. Psychological studies have shown that the Reverend Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood (he was ordained Presbyterian pastor) calmed children and taught them important ethical constructs. In his neighborhood, children were allowed to be children – to play, to share, get angry and repent. He taught that children can choose to have a good path to follow, one that involves time to be serious, or funny, or sad, or angry, or happy and to forgive and be forgiven. Dad taught those same lessons in his classroom for 25 years, in the bookstore he and mom owned for more than two decades, and now, in retirement, still does. Dad has to be Superman. Seventeen years ago, and no longer a spring chicken, he joined a boxing club in Seattle. He has the sense not to spar with fighters in the ring, but plenty of punching bags fear him. Instead of jogging around Greenlake, Washington, he switched to in-line skates to save his knees which, alas, are not made of steel. He doesn’t like fast food or drinking soda, he eats very little meat, prefers raw vegetables and organic, plant-based sources of protein. As a child, I was playing one time with an old mixer and got my fingers caught in the blades. He dropped what he was doing and bent the blades apart with his bare hands in a true display of steel versus steel in which he prevailed. He chopped cords of wood for our stove, and could always remove the toughest bolt, carry the heaviest load of books, lift a transmission, and move whatever piece of furniture anyone needed moving. Here is one story of which I am not particularly proud but it shows how he is both Mr. Rogers and a Man of Steel. One day during my high school career, the angry boyfriend of a female friend of mine showed up on the doorstep of our home. My perception then and now is that he was an insecure body builder/high school student who misunderstood a note I had written to my female friend. Nonetheless, his eyes were blazing and he was intent on revenge with that high school self-righteousness we all know about. Dad talked to him on the porch, calmed him down, and sent him away. Later on, my female friend said that her boyfriend thought was dad was pretty cool and to tell him “hi” next time she sees him. Dad was my defender and calmer of angry spirits. Thinking of Dad has helped me keep my cool in difficult situations. Dad worked at the crosstown rival High School. In my senior year, we invited his High School to one of our dances. It was a hit. We had wall to wall students on the dance floor. Unfortunately, members of the football team bumped into each other. They took it outside. Dad followed as well as faculty members of both schools. The two students were arguing, well on their way to something more serious. Dad stepped in between them and told them to calm down. Someone from behind pushed one student into the other. It knocked Dad down. He bounced back up, held the boys apart and told everyone to go back inside. Because they saw Dad go down and get right back up, everyone retreated. Dad: defender, calmer and protector. Two weeks ago, I made a solo trip to Seattle to visit with him and mom. Dad had kidney cancer in 1986. A surgeon removed the diseased kidney and Dad kept on going. A little over a decade ago he was afflicted with thyroid cancer. The doctors removed his thyroid and he kept on going. Five years ago, we found out he has lung cancer which was more or less behaving itself and not growing. A year ago, the kidney cancer returned, this time in his lungs. A lot of people think that cancer in the lungs is lung cancer—that is not necessarily so. Kidney cancer can metastasize to the lungs and when it does it is kidney cancer of the lungs, not lung cancer. So, Dad is now in the middle of a six-month chemo treatment for the kidney cancer. The cancer is irritating to his lungs. Internally they are producing mucus and the exterior of his lungs are filling with fluid. While I was in Seattle, his pulmonologist removed two liters of fluid trapped in his chest cavity (inside the rib cage and above the diaphragm). Imagine having two liters of soda sharing space in your chest with your heart and lungs. It caused him great difficulty in breathing; five steps would leave him winded. He had to stop in the middle of sentences to catch his breath. It had been eight months since I had seen him. The boxing, jump roping, in-line skating, box of books carrying man had changed. He was still dad. But physically, the change was dramatic in a way that I can only explain tearfully. Words escape me to tell you how it felt; when I try, I become the one who can’t breathe. But since this Reflection is about him, and not about me, let me get back to the topic. Despite his medical condition, Dad is still the Man of Steel/Mr. Rogers. When we went to the hospital to have the fluid removed, he was more concerned about those who were poking him with needles, weighing him, and checking his vitals, than he was about himself. Dad’s steeliness comes from a faith that shapes his ethics. He truly endeavors to love God with all his heart and to love his neighbor as himself. Even when his heart and lungs are being squished by excess fluid, he fills himself with love for God and God’s creation and creatures. In fact, through these tears, I can witness to you that I’ve never seen my dad stronger then when he was getting winded talking to the hospital staff. His bravery for taking each day as it comes, his insistence to care for mom, and all of us, with each labored breath, shows his steeliness. He is at his strongest when he allows others to care for him. Some might ask, like the doubters at the crucifixion, “Where is your God?” when they see Dad, once a physically strong man, weakened by cancer. Jesus gave up his last breath for others – “Father, forgive them,” he said. Dad is following Jesus by using what might be his last breaths in this life to help others as he has always done. So, “Where is my God?” I see God through Dad’s conviction and faith, through Dad’s concern for others even when by all rights he should be concerned about himself. That is truly the Man of Steel I know and emulate in order to show my children and the people I pastor how to follow Jesus. Dad, the teacher, is revealing to anyone who cares to look how to live in grace and peace with lung cancer. Even with shallow breath, like Mr. Rogers and Jesus, Dad is still teaching us that all are welcome in His neighborhood. Epilogue: After the removal of the fluid as described above, Dad took his dog for a fifteen-minute walk. We will see in a few months whether or not the chemo is working. I will update you then. Prayer works and I ask that you pray for John and my mom Nancy. God may not be done with him just yet. -Fr. Dave As a way to reject the culture of advertising that has wrapped me, and our society, up in a tight bind of consumerism and competition pitting neighbor against neighbor, I vowed during the Church season of Lent to purchase nothing new or eat at restaurants that advertised. This list included keeping my old smart phone running and avoiding my self-indulgent visits to Starbucks and my weekly Sunday morning iced coffee at McDonalds.
Over the past 40 days, I have slipped a couple of times. The first week I made a non-grocery purchase at Costco. What troubled me is that I did it without thinking. A couple of weeks later, I had a clergy meeting at a Starbucks. Instead of getting just water, I did, in fact, order an iced coffee. Those failures remind me of a mantra from AA, relapse is a part of recovery. Case in point, waiting at SeaTac airport last week, I walked by no less than four Starbucks while feeling I deserved a pick me up. I think previous failures helped my resolve to do better when the temptation was high and I did not succumb. Now at the conclusion of Lent, I am concerned about re-entry into the consumer world. At summer camp, we would be without candy for 10 days during which fruit tasted sweeter and better. After camp, I’d eat a lot of candy to make up for lost time and fruit then didn’t seem so attractive. If experience is a guide does that mean I am going to double up on iced coffee purchases? Will I buy more new things than I need? Like alcoholics in recovery, I don’t want to go back. I have had my little relapses and am ready for full recovery. During Lent, I discovered an idol in my heart called iDeserve. It was a hole that tempted me to buy things because I deserve it. It’s a sneaky little idol that jumps out at me, like when I’m in line at the grocery store. It whispers, “Come on, pick up that candy bar, you deserve it.” If left unchecked, I might find myself at a Range Rover dealership, because iDeserve said so. Jesus has filled in that place where the idol used to be. I don’t want Christ to diminish now that Lent is ending. In fact, I want him to increase. Yet, I have self-doubts. Maybe Lent isn’t long enough. Maybe I have not set up strong enough defenses. Or maybe I can rationalize my old habits. But Easter can also be the beginning of recognition as to when our consumeristic culture has taken hold of my heart and Easter can be an escape route from it. Because of Jesus’ love and his example of resisting temptation, I think I can resist if I follow in his footsteps. However, I have lingering questions. Can I buy a new smart phone to replace my failing and aged one and resist feeling superior to others? Will I be able to purchase a drink at Starbucks and not think I am more special than the person who doesn’t have one? Can I resist being swayed by commercials for large restaurant chains and eat at locally owned establishments? It is my choice. I can retreat back to old familiar ways. Or, I can continue my Lenten practice and follow Jesus through every season in the Church calendar. I want to do better because I want to serve him better and idols get in the way of that resolve. Returning to that AA mantra, I can accomplish nothing in the way of improvement without the help of God. -Fr. Dave |