Learn From Me

This is real summer, isn’t it. No matter what happens before the 4^th of July, Summer begins with fire works, barbeques and parades on the 4^th of July. Every year on the 4^th, I fall into a state of nostalgia as I recall 4^th of July times in my childhood. Does that happen to you also? No matter how glitzy the fire works of this week end, they can’t compare with the magic we all experienced as children. Sparklers, bonfires, cap guns and burnt hamburgers lent their odors to the magic. Sitting on a blanket, brushing ants off, you waited for the sky to grow dark. Just when you were sure that a whole colony of ants was marching up your leg, the sky suddenly lit up in glorious color as thunderous noise took your breath away. The ants were forgotten in the spectacular color and sound that seemed to surround you and take you to another dimension that included fairy dust being sprinkled liberally over your head. Sights, sounds, smells and colors; before there was IMAX, there were the 4^th of July Fireworks.

We all have moments of nostalgia. Sometimes those moments are brought on by holidays. At other times, we find ourselves reacting to situations by recalling what is remembered as a safer or gentler time. It’s human nature, isn’t it; to seek out, if only in memory, a place of safety or comfort that gives us respite from the confusion, pain or fear that are so much a part of the times we live in. We must be careful in our trips into “the good old days.” I used to say to myself that I sounded like my mother but the older I get, the more I find myself sounding like my grandmother. That, my friends, is scary. She was a harridan. I hear my grandmother’s voice as I agree with someone that yes, indeed, things just aren’t the same. When my sisters and I were in elementary school, Grandma used to remind us that snow never stopped her. She walked 5 miles to school through 4 feet of snow in a raging blizzard. This, as we waited for the announcement that school would be closed for the day and she could send us out to shovel the sidewalk for her.

Yet I agree with everyone who says that things aren’t the same. The world we live in needs fixing. But we can’t fix it by yearning for what was. We fix it by being present to the way it is now and shaping how we want it to be in years to come.

Jesus was frustrated by the nostalgia of the people around him. Matthew describes that frustration in the passage we read today. During the lifetime of Jesus, there was confusion, pain and fear. The Roman Empire owned the land of Israel. People were taxed beyond their ability to pay. Groups of rebels incited riots that were brutally put down by Roman troops. There was no Jewish government. Only puppets appointed by Rome held power over Judea and Galilee. The religious leadership, worried about the safety of the temple, accommodated themselves to the Roman presence at great cost to their spiritual health. Given the environment, the people yearned for the time before Rome and Greece and Babylon. They wanted a messiah to lead them into the past.

John the Baptist came with a rigorous message of fasting and repentance. His goal was not to raise a conquering army but to instill a sense of commitment to a life of integrity in his listeners. He was popular with many people, including Jesus and some of those who would become the disciples of Jesus. Many others rejected John because he did not promise to take Israel back into the past. They did not desire to change their own lives in the present. John was rejected because he was ascetic in life and practice. His message was just no fun. It was much easier for his listeners to complain about the present and yearn for the past.

Having been baptized by John, Jesus began his ministry at a wedding, changing water into wine so that the host would not be embarrassed. He was often a guest at banquets and used meals and parties as examples in his parables. Rather than let people go hungry, he multiplied loaves and fishes into a great picnic supper for 5,000 people. When his disciples were hungry, as they walked through a wheat field on a Sabbath, they ate the ripe grain. Jesus was accused of allowing his disciples to break the Sabbath by harvesting. The people in authority didn’t like him anymore than they liked John. He bent and broke the rules by associating with sinners; conversing with women; healing on the Sabbath and allowing the needs of human beings to take precedence over rules. Where John was too rigid, the authorities argued, Jesus was too lax. He didn’t observe the Law as they understood that it was meant to be observed. He rejected the strict interpretation of the religious leadership and was scorned for his teaching. All of that could be forgiven if he would call for revolution but he said, “Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God, the things that are God’s.” Jesus was rejected for allowing too much fun and caring less about injustice being done to the country and more about injustice being done to individuals. Both Jesus and John were rejected for not subscribing to visions of the past that disallowed the hard and challenging present moment. Both demanded changed hearts and personal and societal commitment to living with integrity in that hard and challenging present moment.

We are not so different, are we? It is so easy to remember when children were seen and not heard; when there was little crime and police officers were on every corner; when there was no concern for global warming or skin cancer and summer meant a great tan; when no one ever spoke of Social Security, rising health care costs, school prayer or gay marriage; when everyone went to church on Sunday and war was a thing of the past. We live in a far different world than that of 20, 40 or 50 years ago. We have been conditioned to trust less and to fear more, yet the Global village is a reality in our neighborhoods and we serve on school committees and community associations with people from countries our parents and grandparents only read about in geography books. And we ask, “Who is my neighbor?” Our sons, daughters, husbands, wives, friends and neighbors are caught up in a war from which they may not return and those who do return will be forever changed. Meanwhile, prices continue to rise and many of us and our family and friends have lost jobs. We are confused. We want to be open and caring as we have always been but the strangeness of the times inhibits our natural hospitality. Like those people who came to Jesus and to John, we want to be in a place where everyone knows the rules and the customs. We want to be in a place of safety and comfort.

How do respond to a changing world, a changing community, even a changing church? From my own experience I can tell you that whining and moaning don’t help. Sometimes humor does. My sister sent me a list of church bloopers. I found one bulletin notice very appropriate. “Don’t let worry kill you off, let the church help.” What are you afraid of? What upsets your equilibrium? What makes you cling to the past out of fear of the present? We need to bring those things that go bump in the night into the light of day. Hiding them in the dark recesses of our minds and imaginations is unhealthy. Perhaps we can’t change the way the world works but can we change ourselves so that we need not yearn for what was because we are capable of facing each present moment.

There are ways that the church can help. We gather each Sunday morning in recognition that the God who created and sustains this glorious and complex world is and always will be with us. Each of us has personal cares and challenges. During the times of prayer; in the times of silence; listening to the music of the organ and through the prayers that are the hymns, we place our burdens in God’s care. We leave this sacred time knowing that no matter what happens, God is there; our strength and our hope. We will soon be sharing the bread and the cup. In the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper we draw closer to one another in the passing of the bread and the cup. We are one in Christ and through this spiritual bonding, we realize that we are a family and we care for one another. When life seems far to difficult to comprehend, our family is there with strength and support. The Lord’s Supper is an invitation to lean on one another.

We can talk together. On each Thursday in July, you are invited to be part of an informal worship, shared fast food and broad discussion on those things that go bump in the night. What bothers you? What challenges you? What hope do you have? Bring the children; let’s be family together.

Jesus says: “Come to me, all you who labor and are overburdened and I will give you rest for your souls.” Let us learn from Jesus even as we look to Jesus. When life pressed in on him, Jesus went off to pray. Let us take some time to share the burden with God and find rest for our souls. Amen.