By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector There are many layers to the parable in our gospel lesson. Yet as we sit with this story today, I’d like us to try taking the story at face value. In doing so, the story becomes a poignant reminder of our Creator God’s spirit of abundance, generosity, and love for all of creation. The parable begins with a landowner at a marketplace, looking to hire day laborers to work in their vineyard. Some laborers were hired and agreed to work for a denarius, the usual daily wage, which would have been enough to feed a family for 3-4 days.* The landowner then kept returning to the marketplace throughout the day - five times in all. On each of the return trips, when the landowner observed unemployed laborers, they hired them, saying: “You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.” Mt. 16:4 At the end of the workday, the landowner instructed the manager to call the laborers over and pay them, beginning with those hired last. Each laborer was handed a denarius - in spite of when they began their workday. This felt like an injustice to those who had worked an entire twelve hour shift. After all, shouldn’t they be entitled to more pay, than those who had only worked one hour? Gently, but firmly, the landowner reminded them that they had been paid the agreed upon wage, and that the landowner’s generosity was actually none of their business. Now, it was a bit unusual for a landowner to be doing the hiring themselves, let alone returning so frequently to hire more workers, but the landowners efforts emphasize how important it is to God that we love and care for one another and all of creation. In Jesus’ parable, the landowner was not concerned with doing what might be perceived as fair, rather, they were deeply concerned with doing what was right. The landowner understood that neighbors were in need of work in order to feed their families, and that they were in a position to employ more workers. The landowner embodied abundance, generosity, and love. We tend to pay attention to the workers who feel they’ve experienced an injustice, but let’s instead imagine what it must have been like for those workers hired at the 11th hour, and still paid a full day’s work. Can you imagine such remarkable generosity? Or have you ever been the recipient of such abundant generosity? I can immediately think of three instances when I was personally on the receiving end of such unexpected and unwarranted generosity. It shakes us to attention, and helps us see the world and our neighbors differently. It is the kind of generosity that humbles us, transforms us, and inspires us to pay it forward. Here at James and Andrew, we have been on the receiving end of such generosity and it is part of what makes today such a historic and important transition moment in the life of our parish. Today, we give thanks for the ministry of Molly, a beloved priest, pastor, and rector. We bid her farewell, for now, as she embarks on a new journey, sharing her gifts with a new community. Clergy come and go from parishes, and it is you, the body of Christ here at James and Andrew, that endures. We influence the life of the faith community through our leadership in worship, liturgy, preaching, sacramental rites, pastoral care, teaching and so much more. Hopefully, for the better. In the healthiest of transitions, we move on, not because we want to go, but because the Holy Spirit has shown us it is time. She reminds us that we have shared our very best selves with the parish and that good work has happened in our time together. While we will now be on different paths, we remain together in our mutual trust and knowledge that Christ our Mother Hen is brooding over all of us, and that our Creator God is doing a new thing. This is a particularly tender moment for our parish, and somewhat different from other clergy transitions. Molly played a unique and vital role in our journey to becoming Saints James and Andrew, as well as, in helping our community to grow in faith. She has consistently offered her grace and wisdom; her wonderful sense of humor and laugh; her gifts for process, asking hard questions, teaching, and incorporating liturgy that features expansive and inclusive language for God and Creation. When Molly was called to former St. Andrew’s in Lent 2016, she was quick to love the community for who they were, while also asking important questions about sustainability. Meanwhile, former St. James had recently been through a program through the Episcopal Church Building Fund that had the community asking similar questions about how to adapt to a changing landscape. We began explicit conversations about the possibility of merger, understanding that combining the gifts, strengths, traditions and resources of the two congregations (including human faithfulness, energy, and creativity, as well as material and financial assets) had the potential to result in a faith community that was far stronger and more dynamic than the sum of the parts.The Holy Spirit was clearly at work, and if I do say so myself, She was in rare form. Because in a matter of four months, we had agreed to a gospel merger. This was not an ‘official merger’ model that existed. It was the result of asking ourselves how Christ would call two communities together. We felt the right thing to do was to come into this marriage as partners, just as we hope any newly married couple would. If our merger was to be successful, we felt it needed to be irrelevant who had more or less money, people, resources, energy, opinions, or anything else. What mattered is that we knew, with God’s help, that we would be better together. So on April 23, 2017 the good people of former St. Andrew’s gathered in their beloved church building in Turners and began the first part of the service, while those at former St. James did the same. The folks in Turners then took cherished symbols of their life together - from the cross carried in the procession, Advent frontals, a flying dove, and more - got into their vehicles, and followed a police escort all the way to Federal Street School in Greenfield. From there they got out of their cars, and in a procession, made their way to former St. James church, led by bagpiper, verger, crucifer, banner bearer, and acolytes along the sidewalk, while the folks in Greenfield stood on the lawn loudly singing in welcome. Then we went inside together and became a new body of Christ, a new faith community, the people of Saints James and Andrew. I offered the sermon that day, and I ended it by saying, Only God knows what ministry, mission, and spiritual growth will unfold as we come together to become one new parish. Yet, I assure you, I have never felt more joyful, more hopeful for our future than I do today. I have never felt more respect, and admiration for your faith and courage as the people of God. I will say I believe and feel all of this ten times more today, than I did on Emerging Sunday. A sure sign of the Spirit. When we walked through those doors together and entered into our new relationship, we did so with hope and trust that our Creator God was with us. Yet we had no idea what the future would bring as a new community, let alone the challenges faced by every community in the pandemic. At any point along the way, we might have chosen to operate from a posture of fear and scarcity, but instead we chose the abundance and generosity we see embodied by our Creator God throughout the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. Every day since, in times of great joy and complete uncertainty, you have persevered as a body of Christ. You have embodied Saints James and Andrew’s mission, where we affirm that: We believe God is calling us to cultivate a community of love, joy, hope, and healing. Jesus is our model for a life of faith, compassion, hospitality, and service. We strive to be affirming and accessible, welcoming and inclusive; we seek to promote reconciliation, exercise responsible stewardship, and embrace ancient traditions for modern lives. These last few months, like you, I have been thinking and praying about this transition for our community. Each time, I land in the same place. There is a very real and profound sense of sadness that this chapter of our life as a parish is coming to a close, yet there is an even greater sense of gratitude for ALL God has done in and through this community these last six and half years. Sometimes 1+1 = 2, but in our case 1+1 = 10. We have experienced the abundance of our Creator God again and again. We have become a beautiful mixture of former St. James, former St. Andrew’s, and only ever Saints James and Andrew. We have learned to recognize that change is healthy, a sign of life, and that new people with new ideas are a blessing to be welcomed. We have grown and deepened in our faith. We have doubled down in our outreach and mission. We have become leaders in our community for creation care. And we boldly proclaim God loves and welcomes all, no exceptions. Thanks be to God. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. So dear ones, let us give abundant thanks for the many ways we have been blessed, for Molly’s role in the life of our community, for all God has done here and continues to do, and for these new paths that lie ahead. Amen. * See commentary by John Carroll at WorkingPreacher.org ** Readings: https://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp20_RCL.html By The Rev. Dr. Molly Scherm Most of you are probably aware, as I am, that we are preparing for a transition. In fact, we’ve already begun it. Today and next week are my last Sundays as Associate Rector at Saints James and Andrew, after which I will join the good folks of St. Mary’s in the Mountains in Wilmington, Vermont, in figuring out how to best live into the Gospel in that context. Change is hard. Whether an upcoming change is something we’ve chosen, or it’s something that was chosen by someone else, and even when there are elements of what is coming that we are excited about, it’s difficult. Change involves the loss of the familiar. It magnifies the uncertainty – which we’re always living with, but often manage not to think about – the uncertainty of not knowing what lies ahead, and what it will be like, and how we’ll manage it. In these days of preparing for transition, of living with the challenges of change, it would have been lovely to hear a nice, uplifting set of readings. Well, as you may have noticed, we don’t always get what we’d like. This morning’s readings are, in fact, rather off-putting. First we heard the familiar story of the crossing of the Red Sea, as the people of Israel fled from their enslavement in Egypt. It was a great day for the Israelites, but not so much for the Egyptians, who wound up, as the narrative tells us, “dead on the seashore”. And then we heard Paul, in his letter to the Romans, lecturing about not showing judgement toward others. And finally, one of Jesus’ hard parables speaking to the question of forgiveness, with a servant handed over to be tortured because he was unwilling to forgive a neighbor’s relatively minor debt. Not very uplifting. But the scriptures always have something to say to us, so let’s dip in. Both Paul’s letter and Jesus’ parable are follow-ups to the texts we heard last week and both remind us of some of the worst of our human inclinations when we live in relationship with other people. Given that times of transition, when we may be feeling somewhat frail in our uncertainties, may be times when we are particularly prone to responding out of our less-generous proclivities, perhaps it’s good to be advised as we are by this morning’s lessons. As Heather helped us to understand last week, in his missive to the Church in Rome, Paul was addressing himself to Christ-believing Gentiles, those followers of Jesus who had come from traditions outside of Judaism but were practicing their new faith within the context of the Jewish synagogue in Rome. They did not feel as recognized or included as they would have wished, and Paul advised them of their responsibility to exercise patience and continually seek to love their neighbors, even as their neighbors were apparently not as hospitable as they could have been. In today’s continuation of this exhortation, Paul turns his attention to the believers’ inclination to judge others. Some within their community were committed to and practicing elements of Jewish tradition that Paul had declared to be no-longer-required for gentile converts, and the latter group were apparently frustrated and impatient that everybody was not on board with the program. Isn’t it just always the case that when we’re feeling vulnerable ourselves, the behavior of others can get on our nerves with particular intensity? So, as we live with the changes ahead, let’s take Paul’s advice to heart, and take deep breaths when we feel like passing judgement, and do our best to remember that judgement is God’s job, not ours. In the gospel passage we heard last week, Jesus provided guidelines for, likewise, handling conflicts and wrongdoing within the community of believers. He urged that when one member of the community does wrong to another, it can’t be swept under the carpet; communication and reconciliation need to take place. He emphasized the importance of accountability, teaching that the offending member should be spoken with by as many as necessary, including holding public discussion of the wrongdoing if it becomes necessary, until such time as the offender can acknowledge and understand their fault. In this morning’s gospel, Peter follows up on that teaching by asking about the obligation to forgive others’ wrongdoings. He must have felt magnanimous in suggesting that he should be willing to forgive seven times. Jesus’ reply was, basically, that we need to forgive past the point at which we can count. In other words Peter (and we ourselves) ALWAYS have to forgive, and we will never have forgiven “enough”. Jesus’ answer was followed with a distinctly disturbing parable. It’s about a king who shows mercy to servant who has accumulated an absolutely massive debt. The debt was more than the fellow could EVER hope to repay. After his initial impulse to hold the servant accountable and have him sold, along with all of his possessions and his entire family, the king suddenly and without explanation reversed course and declared the entire debt forgiven. The experience didn’t have the impact one would have expected on the person whose debt had been excused. Instead of paying forward the compassion he had been shown, the servant who had been forgiven, when he in turn ran across a fellow servant who owes HIM money, was adamant in demanding that he be repaid. The one who had been shown mercy, when his opportunity came, had no mercy at all, and arranged for his debtor to be thrown into prison. When the king learned of the first slave’s hard-heartedness, having received reports from the first servant’s offended colleagues, the king turned him over to be tortured. Jesus tells the story with a frequent and familiar introduction: “God’s Realm is like this”, and it’s not hard to understand the point. This parable-of-the-Kingdom reminds Peter – and us - how extraordinary it is that we, whose failings are numerous, are yet loved and accepted by God beyond our deserving or our comprehension. The parable asks us - how, then, can we fail to extend compassion and generosity to one another? It’s a beautiful principle, but we all know how hard forgiveness can be. Now, some offenses are really not too hard to forgive, and letting them go doesn’t cost much and even allows us to feel good about ourselves. Other wrongs can be so deeply disturbing and cause us so much pain that they feel utterly unforgiveable. Some of the wrongs we experience in life cause true, ongoing hurt every time we think about them and seem like they’ll never go away. Probably the place where forgiveness is hardest is where the other person won’t acknowledge or take responsibility for their wrongdoing, let alone apologize. Here's the thing, though, and I’ll bet we all know it: holding on to unforgiven hurts ultimately does more damage to the one who cannot forgive than it does to the wrongdoer. Nurturing resentment, hurt, and anger can become its own prison, leading us into bitterness and self-pity that separate us from others. Forgiveness, when we can offer it, frees us. Martin Luther King had it right: “Forgiveness is not an occasional act,” he said; “it is a constant attitude.” Jesus calls on us to live out of a spirit of generosity, just as God shows immeasurable generosity to us – not keeping a record of wrongs done to us and a tally what we are owed in compensation - but a spirit of compassion for the many ways in which we all stumble and fail, a spirit of readiness to extend new chances to others, to let them try again get it right, even if they don’t see the need to do so. *** Having said all of this, I also believe that accountability is critically important, and that “get out of jail free” cards are not always called for, and not always what is best for us. As an example, we live in a time, in this nation, when we need and are trying to come to terms with the deep and persistent wrongs – those of the past and those that continue - done by white America to our neighbors of color. Because of this depth and persistence of this wrongdoing, I see it as dangerous to hold up limitless forgiveness as an ideal. I don’t have easy answers, but I do feel that there are some principles that are consistent with the Gospel that we need to hold in tension with the mandate to forgive. Again, I don’t claim easy answers, but I think there are some principles we might apply when looking at the question of forgiving wrongdoings:
The changes ahead are going to require generosity, as well as patience, as we all find our ways. So let’s head into the transitions that lie ahead of us striving to live into and extend to others the inexhaustible generosity that has been extended to us. Let’s proceed with patience and thoughtfulness, recognizing that when things are messy and times are hard, it’s easy not to be our best selves. Let’s be gentle with ourselves and extend compassion to one another in ways that help us all to take responsibility for our acts and to live, more and more, into God’s dream for us. And let us do it with thanks for God’s grace. * Readings: https://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp19_RCL.html By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector Today I want to invite us to reflect on Paul’s Letter to the Romans (13:8-14). This is Paul’s longest letter, which is why in most translations of the Bible, it is placed immediately following the four Gospels and Acts of the Apostles. It is the last of the letters attributed to Paul believed to have actually been written by him. The letter has often been considered ‘Paul’s theological last will and testament’, as it has profoundly shaped Christian belief and identity - for better and for worse.* One of the most unfortunate results of this letter is how it has been used to perpetuate a dangerous and harmful belief that Christianity is superior to Judaism. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. In the Jewish Annotated New Testament, theologian Mark Nanos offers an entirely different way to interpret the content of this letter.** It is grounded in the simple fact that, like Jesus of Nazareth, Paul was a devout Jew who practiced Judaism. One of the dangers of reading history backwards, is we have a cognitive bias, as we know how things have already turned out, leading us to ignore essential information.*** We have traditionally been taught that Paul was a convert to the new religion, Christianity, and like some other converts before and since, he belittled his previous religious tradition.** Paul came to be seen as the great evangelist who liberated converts from Judaism. This view characterized Judaism as legalistic, focused more on external ritual rather than heartfelt beliefs; and with performing good works in order to earn God’s grace. These views were further compounded during the Protestant Reformation, when Martin Luther described Protestant Christianity as a ‘religion of grace’ and Judaism and Roman Catholicism as ‘religions of law’. Most scholars today find these characterizations mistaken. At the time of Paul’s writing, Christianity did not exist as a separate religion.** Jesus of Nazareth began a movement within Judaism, and Paul understood it as his calling to further that movement. Paul cared deeply for this movement, and dedicated his life and ministry to its success. He believed Jesus was the Christ, ushering in a new era of God’s reign on heaven and earth. Paul dedicated his time to planting churches; offered general counsel, training, and teaching; and helped communities sort through conflict.**** Unlike most of the other communities Paul worked with, he had not been to Rome. He knew of the community in Rome, just as they knew of him. Rome was the beating heart of the expansive Roman Empire. If you were to imagine the city of Rome as a large circle, the vast majority of the population within that circle were Gentiles, or pagans. Within that circle, is a very small circle, representing the minority Jewish community. Within that circle is a tiny circle, representing the Christ-following Gentiles within the Jewish community. Even though we are talking about a very small population, their proximity to the powerful leaders guiding the government and economy of the Roman Empire made them more visible than other Jewish communities may have been. If the community thrived, that was good news for the growth of the Jesus movement and Paul’s endeavors to further that movement elsewhere. Likewise, if the community was wrought with conflict and strife, that could limit the growth of the Jesus movement, and Paul’s ability to raise capital for his endeavors. Whatever direction the community went, it could ripple out beyond Rome and affect the Jesus movement throughout the empire. In his letter to the Romans, Paul was writing specifically to the Christ-following Gentiles.** He was concerned about the deteriorating relationship between Christ-following Gentiles and the Jewish community within Rome. According to theologian Mark Nanos, “Paul was a Jew who saw the Christ-following groups as an authentic expression of Judaism…he engaged in an outreach to the Gentiles because he believed that in Jesus the awaited age of God’s restoration and rule, beginning with the Jewish community, and extending beyond it, had dawned.”** Paul felt that the Christ-following Gentiles needed to understand how they should live and interact within the Jewish community. He believed that Christ-following Gentiles did not need to convert to Judaism through rituals like circumcision, in order to become full members of the Jewish community. In fact, he longed for the Christ-following Gentiles to see themselves as full members, and urged them to engage in the Jewish communal way of life. Paul had good reason to be concerned with this growing tension. Christ-following Gentiles were becoming resentful, as they felt their claims for full inclusion were not being accepted, which was at least partially true, as there were some Jews within the community who refused to accept them. Theologian Mark Nanos writes: “These Gentiles are tempted to presume that they are replacing the Jews, whom they see as having lost God’s favor by not accepting the gospel message. Instead of advancing the gospel, their attitudes threaten to undermine God’s designs, and Paul writes to change their attitude. Now that they have acknowledged the God of Israel…Paul imagines that these Gentile followers will help persuade his fellow Jews to see that God’s plans are being fulfilled in Paul’s ministry.” Communities are complicated, and the Jewish community in Rome was no exception. Similarly, Paul had his own motivations, which were primarily for the well-being of the mission, but also were a little bit about him. I imagine the same could be said about our own motivations at times. I’ll confess, Paul’s Letter to the Romans was not always my favorite text, primarily because of the way it has been traditionally interpreted over the years, but I found theologian Mark Nanos’ perspective, grounding Paul within Judaism, incredibly helpful. It gave me a new appreciation for the tender dynamics within the community of the faithful in Rome. The Christ-following Gentiles in Rome likely had identified with the majority culture before joining the Jewish community. They were vulnerable and took a risk joining this minority culture. Maybe they thought they would be welcomed with open arms or maybe they were nervous about joining this community. In any case, they experienced some rejection and judgment. And what do we so often do when we feel rejected? We begin to draw our own conclusions, and may choose to judge in return, further straining relationships and in this instance, harming the community. This is about as human of an experience as it gets. Our identity is shaped by so many factors - our age, ethnicity, gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, size and weight, educational attainment, academic and social achievements, family makeup, geographic background, language, learning style, citizenship, and beliefs.***** When we feel any aspect of our identity being judged, when we feel othered, we may be tempted to go into a self-protection mode. What is so painfully difficult and unfortunate about that instinct, is it almost never brings about healing or restores relationships. What does bring about healing and restoration in those circumstances, what does give us a new chance to grow, learn, and be our best selves is love, forgiveness, and compassion. Which is why Christ gave us this one guiding principal, which Paul repeats in today’s lesson, “Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor, therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.” This is true in our personal lives and relationships, and it is even more acutely true in community life. This is at least partially why Paul was so insistent in his letter that the Christ-following Gentiles stick with it, work it out, and be in relationship with their neighbors within the Jewish community, even when they feel judged. Be persistent in love. The more we are able to be persistent in love, the more we are able to engage in the mission Christ has called the Church into. If the Church, in all her iterations, wants to turn this world upside down and right side up again, we must be persistent in love. Even when it's hard. Even when we hurt. Be persistent in love. As we get ready to head back into the world today, I would invite us to do some reflecting this week…
* Neil Elliott, p.1976, New Revised Standard Version ** Mark Nanos, p.285-286 Jewish Annotated New Testament, 2nd edition. *** You can read more about the dangers of reading history backwards in an article by Cambridge University. **** Rich Simpson offers a perspective on Paul’s ministry and motivations with regard to Romans in greater detail here: https://rmsimpson.blogspot.com/2023/06/pauls-letter-to-church-in-rome.html ***** Examples of cultural identity taken from National Association of Independent Schools |
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