Foxes and Hens

January 21, 2016

Lent 2, Year C

The Rev. Mark B. Pendleton

Christ Church, Exeter

 

A child at an orphanage in Cape Town, South Africa

Foxes and Hens

In the gospel lesson we just heard, two animals are mentioned. One is a fox and the other a mother hen.  Jesus uses a fox to warn us and a hen to inspire and gather us closer.

What I hope to do this morning is to describe some of the ways we live with the foxes of the world and how we, with God’s help, can become more like the hen – or at least the brood that is gathered under her wings.

From what I remember from last Sunday beyond how cold it was outside and how cool it was inside due to our boiler problem (now fixed) the focus of the lessons was temptations. It is where Lent begins. Always.  The devil tempted the hungry Jesus with food, power and safety, yet nothing could shake his trust and belief.  The forty days he spent in the wilderness only made his mission and identity more clear.

I like to think of this time, when we build towards Holy Week and Easter, as a fruitful time to tend to the basics and essentials. 

There was some talk this past week about what makes a good Christian – perhaps you heard. A certain bishop of Rome and a titan from New York engaged in a rather stunning dance as to whether it was Christian to put more effort in building walls than bridges.  It is never easy to guess what government policy Jesus would endorse, but we can always ask, and we should: What would Jesus do?

Starting there we can and should ask ourselves then: what should we do as we face

The trials, demons, obstacles, challenges and choices in our lives.   Would we end up in the same place? Can the “What would Jesus do?” work in a world that is so full of global unrest and domestic anxiety where the foxes of the world loom large? 

I am often asked by people who want to study the Bible – to go farther and deeper in their faith – as to where and how to begin. A good question in Lent and during those wilderness and dry times of our lives.

I point them to the psalms.  Any of them.  All of them.  We hear one each Sunday. These ancient words are not history, visions, parables or teaching, they are honest and real expressions from the hearts of people who wanted to sing and cry out to a God who gave life and blessings even when and if life looked pretty bleak. 

What I like about Psalm 27 that we prayed this morning is its honesty of living in the midst of hope and fear.  That is where I often find myself. 

1The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

2When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh— my adversaries and foes— they shall stumble and fall.

3Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident.

These are words that allow us to say: God is good.  Our light and salvation – the stronghold of our lives.  The rock.  The steady hand and guiding force.  And there is a need to say and affirm this always.   Last Sunday, when it was 9 below zero and 52 degrees in the church, I looked out at many of you with your coats and hats on and I saw a desire to live into this light.  We can draw comfort from what is expressed in this psalm: We are to wait for the Lord, be strong, and take courage.  v.5For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock.

The power of the words grows when we return to them again and again. 

It is interesting, isn’t it, how often repetitive fear is mentioned in Scripture.  Jesus constantly tells his followers not to be afraid. In the psalm, it is the evildoer, the adversary, the foe, the army, and the enemy that threatens. 

Let’s try to stake out what we know.  I don’t believe that it should be our goal as Christians to wish away all those who would do harm to us and those we love and disrupt God’s purpose in the world.  How tempting that would be…  Who, if given three wishes from a genie’s bottle would not wish for an end to war, violence, corruption, and exploitation and human trafficking. Who would not want their nemesis to just go away and leave them alone? Who couldn’t want to turn off the inner voice that tries to tell us that we matter less than we should?   

What ever we want to call it – the devil, darkness, evil, temptation, negativity – there is real power there to attract and entice.  Our decision and our direction is whether we will allow what we fear to shape us. To turn us into people Christ would not recognize.  To become the sum of our worst fears and anxieties.  

The psalm points us in a direction where we can find shelter.  It is in God’s presence – where we can behold God’s beauty -- where our true confidence comes.

Where do the fox and the mother hen fit in?

As Jesus travels closer to Jerusalem and the cross, he is moving, healing, teaching and casting out demons. People are noticing, the crowds are building, and the authorities are getting more nervous.  In an interesting twist, the Pharisees shed their normal bad boy image in the gospels and came to Jesus’ aid by warning him to “get away from here” for Herod wanted to kill him. “Go and tell that fox for me….” Jesus replied.  

Why did Jesus call Herod a fox? Jesus did so because Herod was complicit in the death of his friend John the Baptist.  He was a puppet, a stooge, an imposter, or a ruthless religious tyrant.  And Herod wanted Jesus dead before he could reach Jerusalem. 

What do we know about foxes? I occasionally see a fox come out of the woods in the back of our house. I’m always fascinated by foxes in their beauty, their movement and the sense that seem to be a magical cross between a large cat and a small dog.  

To call someone a fox, one is saying that the person is clever, agile and most certainly threatening. 

There is the expression that comes to mind:  “Don’t let the fox guard the henhouse,” which means: be careful about who holds positions of authority and trust, lest they exploit their position for their own benefit and cause harm.

Foxes and motherly hens are alive and well today.

On my recent visit to South Africa, what I found most interesting was to see up close how that country is living through the days after Nelson Mandela.  Though the evils of apartheid are behind them, the residue and impact of that system of racial cleansing and social engineering are still very much in sight.  It is as if the people of South Africa reached their Promised Land after years of oppression, led by their Moses figure Mandela, only to find many new challenges in building a just society in the new land.

Our visit took us to an orphanage in a black township in what is called the Cape Flats outside of Cape Town.  These townships were created decades ago when the all white government literally moved the black and colored populations out of existing neighborhoods – where some families had lived for decades – and moved them to the dry and dusty flats far from the center of the city.  They achieved their goal of total racial separation – apartheid – those divisions sadly exist even today. 

The orphanage we visited was full of babies and children, most of who were HIV+ and abandoned by their families. The staff were angels. The kids were playful and only wanted to be held. I saw God alive in that place, in the eyes of children who been rescued and who were being care for by saintly women getting paid next to nothing.  These are the mother hens of this world: protecting their brood from the foxes of this world.

When I visit these kinds of places I go through a familiar mix of emotions. The unproductive guilt of privilege certainly tops the list. 

My go-to spiritual friend Frederick Busechner wrote: “Sometimes we travel to get away and see something of the world. Sometimes we travel just to get away from ourselves. Sometimes we travel to convince ourselves that we are getting someplace.

The footloose Israelites were really … "seeking a homeland," which they died without ever finding but never gave up seeking even so (Hebrews 11:14).

Maybe that is true of all of us. Maybe at the heart of all our traveling is the dream of someday, somehow, getting home.”

When I travel and return to my home, I am often more aware of where and how I live.  I remember the sights and the hardships that I saw, but I try not to allow them to haunt me, but rather inspire me to make a difference in what I can.  What would Jesus do?   More importantly: what are we going to do?

I hope we can see the ways in which God still gathers us – like a hen gathering her brood.  Allow yourself to be gathered into God’s work. There we will find protection, comfort, meaning and holy purpose. 

My Thoughts on that Anglican Communion Thing

You may have heard from many of the recent reports in the media that the Episcopal Church has either been “suspended” or “disciplined” by the wider Anglican Communion. In fact, only the Primates (Archbishops and Presiding Bishops) gathered and deliberated. They are not the Roman Catholic Curia. They are, well, a group of bishops taking votes. 

Justin Welby, the current Archbishop of Canterbury, is not an Anglican pope. He is first among equals and has inherited all the history and legacy of the ancient See of Canterbury, but he cannot order, or fire, or discipline his piers – or as some might call them – his unruly children.  The point of disagreement is, on the surface, different views of human sexuality, but really the issue is much broader and vexing. 

Last Sunday parishioners mentioned to me that they were thinking that I might comment, perhaps in the sermon, on what took place. Frankly, I really wanted to preach on the Gospel story – Jesus’ sign of grace in Cana – than I did about Anglican polity. Perhaps that is telling in of itself. 

Our bishop has commented on his blog: http://www.tendingthevine.org/news/

There are a couple of articles I would commend: 

http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2016/01/the-selective-outrage-of-the-anglican-church/424569/

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jan/15/anglican-leaders-further-marginalise-gay-people-and-church-of-england?CMP=share_btn_link

The immediate impact in the life of you and me in the Episcopal Church will be minimal if at all. We are no less nor more Anglican and Episcopalian than we were last week. What we are witnessing though is the worldwide communion of churches wrestling with issues that we have been living with here in New Hampshire for some time. We have held up equality, inclusion and understanding as guiding principles and values.  

Being suspended from high-level meetings for three years will not cause us to go back into time. Many of us who attend the Episcopal Church have already decided that issues of sexuality and faith are matters that have evolved and changed overtime: they do not rise to the status of unmovable dogma and doctrine.

The world is changing. Once fixed positions are changing.  The Anglican Communion as we once knew it, with the English and Americans reigning over their collective cultural and spiritual empires is a thing of the past. Other voices, however far from what we may find just in our context, are speaking out.

I will be traveling on January 25 to Cape Town, South Africa with Community of the Cross of Nails. We will visit with the staff of the Anglican Province of Southern Africa. I will preach at a Eucharist  with their staff. When I do so, I will be present as a Christian, an Episcopalian, a husband and father, an American, and I hope, a sheep of God’s flock and a sinner of Christ’s own redeeming.

We will be OK we Anglicans, or Episcopalians -- or whatever some might want to call us. Have faith.  Keep the faith. 

Selling Christmas with Puppies and Babies

Christmas Eve 2015

Selling Christmas with Puppies and Babies

Elisha Minnette Photograpy

Many Christmas sermons, year after year, warn the listener to beware of trading in the eternal joy and holiness of welcoming the Christ child as the light of the world for all the rushing around, shopping, buying, maxing out and over-consuming that is all too familiar.  We make a valiant try to guard the sacred from the secular. Each year we make an implicit or explicit plea for “less is more.”   Wait don’t rush.  Slow down. Breathe.  Look up. Look around.

Yet, as much as we push back against and lament the over commercialization of the season, the church gathered is also, in all honesty, selling something at Christmas.  With our pageants, angels, shepherds, carols, and candles, we too are selling something that we assume will have universal appeal and an eternal shelf life.  We are selling this: that God came into this world as flesh and blood, sweat and tears, to reveal God’s true essence and nature: love.  Not judgment, rejection, exclusion, punishment, trial and testing, but divine love.  And that moment, what we call the Incarnation, changed everything. What Adam and Eve, Abraham, Moses, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Elijah could not do, the child born in tiny Bethlehem of Judea had to do.  He had to be a savior like no other: saving the world, saving the nations, saving our soul, the present and future.  Nearly two thousand years later, you and I are here listening to how it all began.

So, yes, we are selling something at Christmas.  We have a durable, solid, road-tested product to sell to our war-weary, on-edge, fearful and complicated world.   And we can do better.  To whom might we turn to boost our sales forecast for the next year?

Could we learn a thing or two from Madison Avenue? How would Madmen’s Don Draper – the television fictional advertising guru who could literally sell ice to Eskimos – approach the Jesus born in Bethlehem account?  Where would they start?

We know from experience as consumers, that there are two things that sell products on television and print year in and year out. Those two things are puppies and babies.  So I contend that we need some puppies and babies to sell Christmas.

There is proof to back this up. 

There was a recent focus group that showed four images and asked which was most likely to tug on their heartstrings.  (Adweek Media/Harris Poll) Participants were shown images of “a puppy”, “a baby”, “a sweet old lady” and “a sweet old man.”  41% chose a puppy when they saw it in a commercial. One-third said a baby (34%) is most likely to do so.  Not such good news for sweet old lady (3%) or a sweet old man (2%).  Another study by the Marketing Bulletin showed that a cute baby increased the odds by 88% that people would respond to a survey.  A cute animal increased response rates by 42%.

 With this hard fought data research in our pockets, cue the animals and the baby. 

 Joseph went Bethlehem “to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” 

A manger is not the whole crèche but the feeding tough for animals that doubled as a crib for the Christ child.  We can imagine the animals being brought into the ground floor of houses in the cold winter with families sleeping above.  Shepherds too were keeping watch over their flock by night in the fields when an angel of the Lord stood before them with the joy-filled news.  “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

Every Christmas pageant that I know has its core of shepherds and animals.  Outdoor live nativity scenes use any animals they can find to enrich the experiences by adding cows, and donkeys and sheep, chickens, lamas, goats, and rabbits. They remind us the humble beginning of the child born as the Son of God.

Selling Christmas with animals.  Check.

All stories have a beginning, a middle and end.  The Christian story begins with the birth of Jesus to Mary in Bethlehem.  Soon, the Wise Men arrive to worship the child and bring gifts from afar.  We know that the child would grow, learn, and live into this true identity as the fullest expression of God to ever walk on the face of this earth. We know that he would teach and heal, lead and inspire, challenge and provoke. We are reminded by the crosses that fill churches of how his life ended. And each time we gather to celebrate the Eucharist, we are reminded of his resurrection and the promise of our own.    

Yet at the onset, Jesus was, as we all were once, an infant. A child. Vulnerable. Innocent. Needing love, warmth and protection, nurture and guidance.

The Christ child, at the center of this story, is a reminder that we have a unique message to the world that is ruled by might, ego, power and dominance and oppression.  

The apostle Paul puts it another way: “God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong. 1:27-29

Selling Christmas with a baby.  Check.

 In the run up to Christmas we here at Christ Church have been praying, discerning, educating and advocating for the plight of refugees around the world, and especially for the compassionate response to Syrian refugees.  During this holy season where children are at the center of our attention and hopes, it’s worth reminding ourselves why and when we began to pay attention. 

It began in September with a photo. A three-year old Syrian boy, wearing a red T-shirt, shorts, and Velcro sneakers (the kind that are the easiest for parents to manage). His name was Aylan Kurdi, and he drowned off he coast of Turkey along with his mother and brother.  It was one of those turning point iconic pictures, when the world took notice. And it was before it all became political and partisan.   

For those of us gathered here– for whom a holy child has led us to believe or at least a desire to have more faith – we can and should connect what we believe, how we pray, to what we care about and work for in our world and communities throughout our lives.  The spirit of giving, the desire for peace, the wonder that fills the air, and the hope that abides deep within us on this night, should and must last long past the gifts are opened and the decorations put away.

As it turns out, the true advertising genius of Christmas is not the fictional Don Draper but the most beloved of saints, Francis, who in the year 1223 created the first outdoor nativity scene.   

It is the prayer of St. Francis that reminds us what you and I need to go out from tonight’s service and live, believe, and yes: sell. 

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

 

 

Mary the Most Powerful Woman in the World

December 20, 2015
4 Advent, Year C
The Rev. Mark B. Pendleton


Annunciation (1489-1490) Sandro Botticelli

                       

Today I want to talk about what it means to be faithful.

I begin with the larger than life Biblical characters that take center stage in Advent – this condensed pre-Christmas season of waiting and light.   Zechariah, a member of the religious establishment, sings a song of thanksgiving and expectation that his son John would prepare the way for the Lord.  The images his paints for us are poetic and clear – “the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” John the Baptist delivers on his promise to shake things up. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” He held up a mirror to peoples’ lives and challenged them to consider if this was the best they could do for their own souls and for the lives of those around them. John’s mother Elizabeth makes an appearance on stage when she welcomes her relative Mary for a three-month stay. Two women, one older and well beyond normal child bearing years and the other young, vulnerable, engaged but not married and recently carrying a child conceived by the Holy Spirit.  Gabriel, the angel messenger from God, crashes almost every big scene of this Advent/Christmas pageant.  He is the God whisperer to Zechariah and Mary -- giving them a clear indication that big things are brewing and their lives would never be the same.

At the close of the year, Time magazine makes a big splash when they choose a person of the year and puts their face on the front cover. It is a practice going back to 1927 when aviator Charles Lindbergh was chosen.   This year they chose German Chancellor Angela Merkel for her leadership confronting one crisis after another in Europe.

National Geographic -- a treasured magazine from my childhood -- this month had a different cover. They too had a picture of a woman.   It was a picture of Mary, the mother of Jesus, with the caption: The most powerful woman in the world.  The wide ranging article points out that “Mary is often the touchstone of our longing for meaning, a more accessible link to the supernatural than formal church teachings. Her mantle offers both security and protection. And she is the spiritual confidante of billions of people, no matter how isolated or forgotten.”

Her song, part of Luke’s gospel this morning, known as the Magnicat, is one that has been set to countless musical setting over the centuries.  Each evening it is sung by choirs in cathedral all over England.   She is known by many titles: The Virgin Mary, God bearer, The Blessed Mother, Mother of God, Saint Mary, Holy Mary, Our Lady, The Madonna.  Paula Gooder writes, “Mary is a character about whom we know a great deal and very little, all at the same time.” (In Meaning is in the Waiting, pg. 137).  Muslims as well as Christians consider her to be holy above all women, and her name Maryam appears more often in the Koran than ‘Mary’ does in the Bible.  She has an entire chapter of the Koran about her.  With today’s climate of growing mistrust and fear when some want to pit one religion against another, wouldn’t it be a good thing to remind ourselves what we hold in common.  For one: Mary. 

Yet even as Mary takes center stage each Christmas, she is to me an inkblot Rorschach test of our faith. The National Geographic article interviewed the New Testament professor Amy-Jill Levine who commented,  “you can project on her whatever cultural values you have. She can be the grieving mother, the young virgin, and the goddess figure. Just as Jesus is the ideal man, Mary is the ideal woman.”

I referred to Mary as a kind of Rorschach test because how you think of Mary is often shaped by the religious tradition of your childhood and youth. The Episcopal Church is a church that is easy fit for many who were raised Roman Catholic and for many reasons found their way to our tradition of being the “via media” the middle way between Rome and many Protestant traditions.

Yet, whatever your heritage, Mary is still the dominant person of faith of the birth story. Other characters will fade and fall away over the years. Mary is there when Jesus as Jesus grows, she is present at the time of his ministry, and we read in John’s gospel that she is present at the foot of the cross. 

And Mary sings, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. For he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed.

Mary’s God and ours scatters the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. 

Her words lay the groundwork for what her son Jesus would say later:

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven. (Matthew 5:3)

Blessed are the meek: for they will inherit the earth. (5:5)
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness: for they will be filled. (5:6)
Blessed are the merciful: for they will be shown mercy. (5:7)
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they will see God. (5:8)
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they will be called children of God. (5:9)

Mary can matter even to those who did not grow up with a particular devotion to her, in that she can show us what it means to be faithful in our everyday lives.

Do we hear and see in Mary’s words humbleness or strength?  Is she a story of scandal or sacredness? Do you see her as submissive or strong?  Innocent or wise?  Lofty or grounded?   

The reason it matters is that all around us the world, culture, trends, voices, shadows hint to us that they know what is best. Best to make us loved, wealthy, happy, and strong, and safe and important.

It matters because we need to know how to filter and listen and sort through all of this and decide how to life a life of faith in a complicated and distracting world.

There are moments and days in our lives when we should be all about waiting – and there are times when the waiting is over and we need to act. Take a stand. Speak up and out. And Mary shows us how to do this. 

We see that in her life: in a moment everything changed.  So too, with us.  Our lives can be turned upside down, inside out, in an instant.

In truth, we should be more open then closed.  More generous than cynical. More trusting than guarded.  More forgiving than withholding forgiveness. And that is not easy.  It never is.  So, Mary, help us.  Show us. 

By December 20^th, our pre-Christmas preparations should be well underway.   

If we have done well with Advent this year, we have set the stage for all of us to hear again a story of the birth of something new and life changing. Jesus, born to a woman in a far off, small forgotten town, brings the experience of the eternal God – maker of heaven and earth – to our life and experience. 

The waiting is almost over.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lessons of St. Louis and Ferguson

With Dean Mike Kinman at the site of Mike Brown's death in Ferguson, MO 

I had only traveled to St. Louis once before this past weekend. What brought me to this gateway city this time was my role as president of the Community of the Cross of Nails in North America -- part of a worldwide network of individuals and churches inspired by the Coventry Cathedral (England) message of forgiveness and commitment to the ministry of reconciliation. 

Members of the board met in St. Louis the weekend of Nov. 13-15, 2015 to encourage the ongoing ministry of Christ Church Cathedral and its dean the Very Rev. Mike Kinman. The Cathedral has been a place of welcome and support to those involved in the peaceful protests after the civil unrest in nearby Ferguson, Missouri that followed the shooting death of Mike Brown by a police officer in the summer of 2014.  In addition, when black churches began to be targeted by arson in and around Ferguson, the Cathedral led an effort to raise $700,000 from 300 Christian, Jewish and Muslim congregations around the country to help the burned churches rebuild. 

Street-side Memorial for Mike Brown

Board members traveled to Ferguson to learn about the Black Lives Matter movement.  What many of us know and think about this movement that began as #BlackLivesMatter on Twitter reflects in many ways our own background, age, color and politics.  What I wanted to learn was why the often expressed rejoinder to “Black Lives Matter,” namely “All Lives Matter,” stuck such a cord of disconnect with many activists.  What seemed clearer to me was that yes, all lives do matter, but the pain and oppression that is being expressed in the Black Lives Matter movement is a unique cry of a broken society. In our inner cities, especially when black boys and men come into contact with the authorities and come out on the losing end of the encounter, it can and does seem to them that their lives mean next to nothing.   

We visited and stood outside the well funded and fortified Ferguson Police Department -- site of many of the marches and vigils. Like many smaller cities, more and more tax revenue had shifted towards fines and penalties, and subsequent jail time for those unable to pay. This widespread practice has led to growing resentment and a growing divide between the police and the local population.  We also gathered for conversation and a good lunch in a local black-owned business that was one of the few restaurants to remain open throughout the protests and violence of last year.

We went to the street in Ferguson where Mike Brown was shot and later died.  It was a pilgrimage, as we were not to litigate the case or to stand in judgment. We were there to be reminded that his lifeless body was left for four hours to bleed out onto the street before it was finally removed.  To many who watched on that hot summer day, it seemed that his life mattered little.  But it mattered to his family. It mattered to him. His life should have mattered more to all of us.

As we were ready to leave, the dean led us in silent prayer, and seconds after we responded from our Coventry litany “Father Forgive” the silence was interrupted by gunshots fifty yards away.  We could see and hear cars fleeing the scene as some young people ran away by foot. Once we realized it was gunfire and not firecrackers, the group quickly moved behind the apartment building and soon got into our cars a left the area, making sure we drove by the scene to see if there had been injuries or even worse, a wounded bystander. Silence and prayer gave way to the shots of gunfire and violence. Father forgive.  

It was a sobering and surreal moment that reminded us that many cannot simply get into cars and leave, as we did, and that that gun violence is all too prevalent in this country and takes the lives of many innocent.  As the dean commented, “the gun industry has sold the idea of fear to the white population and power to the black population.”  

With German CCN President the Rev. Oliver Schuegraf

The next day: after a beautiful liturgy in the Cathedral Sunday morning when we presented a Cross of Nails at the altar to the Wardens and Dean, we departed St. Louis with a greater appreciation for the racial reconciliation witness and ministry of our newest CCN partner.  Our prayer and hope is that their story will inspire and motivate others in this worldwide network. It certainly inspired me. 

With Dean Kinman in St. Louis

The Rev. Mark B. Pendleton

Rector, Christ Church in Exeter, NH and

President, CCN-NA