Lent 5, Year C

March 25, 2007

The Rev. Dena Cleaver-Bartholomew

In today’s reading the prophet Isaiah addresses the people of Israel who are in exile in Babylon. As exile goes, life was not all bad. The Israelites could worship together, own land, trade, and serve in the military. A new generation had been born in Babylon, a center of culture and commerce, and it was the only home they had ever known. When Isaiah comes to them, recalling the themes of the Exodus, the foundational story of God redeeming the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt and leading them to the Promised Land, they know the story. But when Isaiah tells them they are not simply to recall the Exodus as a story of what God did long ago, they are about to experience a new Exodus in what God is doing in their lives right now, it leads to a troubling question: Why? The ancient Hebrews had good reason to want to escape slavery. The Babylonian exiles are content where they are. Why take the risk of trekking through the wilderness? Why change if you like things the way they are?

Members of St. Paul’s may be able to understand the reaction of the Israelites. Not long ago you too were content where you were. Then God presented you with other plans. First one priest was called to another parish. Then the rector retired. Suddenly you found yourselves in that wilderness called an interim period, where your comfort zone was frequently challenged and many found themselves resistant to change. Why do something new when it worked the way it was? How long before we can go back to the way we always did it?

St. Paul himself has an interesting take on this very human response to change. In his letter to the Phillipians, he illustrates the dramatic change in his own perspective. He had been a zealous Jew, a faithful man of impeccable religious credentials: circumcised, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Pharisee, a persecutor of the church, blameless under the law. Blameless as in perfect! Yet Paul, who had been supremely confident in the rightness of where he was in relationship with God, found himself launched in a new direction after his encounter with the risen Christ. He had to let go of what had worked, “forgetting what lies behind,” and hit the wilderness running. He had the hard task of giving up a righteousness of his own and accepting righteousness based on God. This change is an ongoing process. “Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own….”

One author tells a story about the Concorde and the great speed at which it travels between the United States and Europe. Because it moves so quickly, the plane can get off course easily, more easily than a human could continually correct. This task is instead tended by two computers, one of which takes course readings and feeds it to the other, which makes corrections. The correction and feedback loop is constant. The author pondered whether any human could tolerate a stream of constant corrections the way the computer does. Who likes to be told they are wrong every minute or two? Who could simply take that data and make corrections without getting defensive or discouraged? If we could let go of needing to be right and instead focus more on getting where we need to go, it would make corrections far easier to take. They could be seen as helpful feedback rather than criticism. What a shift! The author muses:

Those who have the courage to offer us honesty, to be our navigators, might even come to be seen as worthy of a certain gratitude as collaborators in helping us reach our destination. “You are off course,” they might tell us. “Why, THANK you,” we might reply.

Resistance to feedback is seen in today’s Gospel reading. The chief priests, the scribes and the elders confront Jesus, who has been teaching the people in the Temple. What gives him the right to do this? The group challenges Jesus: “Tell us, by what authority are you doing these things? Who is it that gave you this authority?” He was, after all, on their turf, doing their job. Jesus responds by telling a disturbing parable about a vineyard. In the parable those who inhabit the vineyard try to claim it as theirs, rather than respecting the owner. They even mistreat and eventually kill the people who truly represent the owner. The chief priests and scribes realize that the parable is an allegory for their own behavior concerning the Temple and God, and their response is to wish to kill Jesus, just as those in the parable killed the son. They think they are right, but Jesus gives them feedback that tells them they are off course. The question then arises: Who truly represents God? How do we know when God is about to do a new thing, as in Isaiah and with Paul, and when someone is trying to lead us off course?

The Anglican Communion is wrestling with this very question. Ever since the consecration of an openly gay, partnered man as a bishop in the Episcopal Church, there has been great tension between two responses. One is to believe that we have always understood things one way, the orthodox way, and that there is no compelling reason to change our understanding. The other is to believe that God is calling us to understand things in a new way. This could be the case, as Jesus makes clear in the Gospel according to John: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth….” We have followed such a call to reconsider how God would have us respond to slavery and the ordination of women. Could it be that we are called to a new place in how we understand homosexuality? The answer is not clear. Who truly represents God? The only way we can know is to enter faithfully into the wilderness of discernment. Just as St. Paul’s must be especially attentive to God during its search process, praying and then looking and listening carefully for God’s response, the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion need to do the same. It is not a comfortable place to be. Like Paul, we are called not simply to know what the Bible tells us, though that is an excellent place to begin. We are also called to follow where the Holy Spirit leads us. Let us be prayerfully attentive to where that might be.

Amen