"The Foolishness of Faith" (Mark 12:38-44)

Jesus and the disciples are sitting in the vicinity of where people come to give their offerings at the temple.  They are casually watching the activity around the offering box . . . they witness rich people coming in and making big offerings--throwing in a big chunk of change . . . and, they are impressed.  Yet, at the same time they witness a widow who comes and throws in what little she has . . . well, actually all she has.  He praises the actions of this woman.  Jesus commends her for giving.  As followers of Jesus who are witnessing this event many generations later, we are impressed with the widow's giving and laud her as a generous individual.  And, as far as we can tell from the writer of Mark's gospel, so do the disciples.

But . . . wait a minute!

This isn't the whole story!  Didn't we hear about more than just the widow's generosity in our reading this morning?  Yes, we did.  In the first half of our reading this morning we heard Jesus condemn the leaders of the law . . . condemn those who were the ones in power and control . . . those who were in power.  Jesus pointed out that they were hypocrites more concerned with image than substance . . . more concerned with status than actually living up to the spirit of the law.  Jesus condemned them.  Jesus said, “Watch out for the teachers of the law. They like to walk around in flowing robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets.  They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.”   Those sound pretty much like words of condemnation.

These individuals . . . this group that Jesus is referencing . . . are the ones who control and run the temple.  They are the ones who make the decisions.  They are the temple.  I don't think there is a real argument there.  Yet, if this is the case . . . then isn't the offering--the money, that the widow is making . . . isn't that going to support those Jesus just condemned?  And, if it is, isn't that a pretty stupid thing to do?  To support the ones who continue to oppress you?  Isn't there a contradiction taking place here?  On the one hand, Jesus is condemning the powers to be--all the bigwigs, while praising the widow for supporting them.  Isn't that a contradiction?

Okay, maybe I am missing the point here.  True, what the widow gives is more than what the so-called important people give.  That is nothing new.  It has been happening since the time churches and temples began taking offerings.  Research has shown--for many decades now, that those in the lowest income brackets have always given more of their income than those in the higher tax brackets . . . . percentage wise those in the lowest tax brackets have always given more of their income to the church and charity than those making much, much more.  Research proves this time after time.  Those who can least afford it, always put more in the plate than those who can afford it.   Yes, the rich put more in the plate, but the poor put a greater percentage of their overall wealth into the plate.  To this Jesus offers praise.

To the others he offers condemnation: “Watch out for the teachers of the law. They like to walk around in flowing robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.”

Simply put . . . the widow's offering goes to support the one thing that is oppressing her.  Is Jesus talking out of both sides of his mouth in this passage?

I doubt it.

Instead I think that Jesus raises a conundrum . . . raises something we should think about . . . especially as the church . . . as the “body of Christ".  What he raises for us to consider is the foolishness of faith.

Think about it . . . is it not foolish to think that giving money to the organization that squishes you--in hopes that it will help you--is foolish?  Especially in light of the fact that even Jesus can see that those in control are stealing, cheating, and ignoring those they are suppose to be helping.  So, why keep supporting them?  Jesus even says that those in control are not doing the job . . . not living up to the call of God . . . the call of God to serve . . . to love others . . . to love God and God's ways.

Woe be to those who do this!

And, woe be to those who practice this foolishness of faith. No, they will not end up in the fiery punishment of hell . . . but, at the same time, they are not ever going to get what they need or what they believe.  No, what they are going to get is a whole lot of frustration.

Yes, Jesus praises the faith of the widow; yet, at the same time he raises the question of blinded loyalty to that which is believed to actually help.  One would think that of all the places that should help the widow in the story that it would be the temple . . . but how could the temple ever help others when it was so centered on itself and how it looked to the world around it?  In this situation, the temple becomes the pawn in the hands of those who are in control.

The call of God is really quite simple.  Jesus explained it to us time after time.  The call of God is to love the Lord completely . . . to love God with all that we are created to be . . . to love God wholly and holy.  The call of God is to love others . . . to love others as God loves us . . . to love others as we love ourselves.  Boiled down into simpler terms, the call of God is to love.  When we love we care about the others in our lives that we encounter . . . we want what God wants for them.  We want to be family in its truest sense.

In such love we are not concerned how we look to the rest of the world.  No, we are only concerned how we  look to God and to those we serve out of love . . . to those we are helping.  In such love we do what we have to do.  We are not the center of attention, we are only the conduit of God.  And, because this is the case, shouldn't we pause for a moment and consider what it is that we are truly offering to God and others?

The widow was a person of faith.  She believed in God . . . she believed in what God's earthly manifestation represented--God's presence in the world . . . and, she whole-heartedly supported it with all that she had.  She did it even though the reality showed that it did not care one iota about here or her station in life.  The widow had faith . . . even though it was nothing more than a foolishness of faith. 

She was a woman betrayed.  Those who betrayed her would pay a heavy price for their actions.  As Jesus said, "Woe be to them!"

These are words of warning to those of us who claim to be followers of Jesus.  Words that implore us to look at our own faith . . . our own actions . . . as people who follow Jesus. Are we like the ones Jesus condemns . . . more image than substance?  Are we providing that which we claim we provide as the followers of Jesus?  Or, are we just going through the motions, saying what people want to hear, and totally ignoring the fact that we really are not serving anyone or anything but ourselves? Are we like the teachers of the law?

I don't know.

What I do know is that we need to consider what we think we are . . . to consider that and put it up against what we are actually doing?  Are the two congruent?  Do the words that we proclaim line up with what we do?  Are we fooling ourselves?

I don't know.  Only God knows.  In the end . . . God will let us know.  Let aus not allow ourselves to fall into the foolishness of faith.  No, let us demand of ourselves that the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts truly line up with the actions of our lives.  Amen.

“Take Away the Stones” (John 11:32-45)

They had come to Jesus because their brother—Jesus’ friend—was sick.  These sisters—Mary and Martha—believed that Jesus could heal their brother; but, Jesus did not jump up and run to bring healing upon their brother.  No, Jesus stayed put and Lazarus dies much to the chagrin of his sisters.  Needless to say, Mary and Martha are sad and disappointed.  Now Lazarus had been in the tomb for four days when Jesus finally arrives . . . deader than a door knob and getting quite smelly lying in the tomb. 

Mary could not hide her disappointment, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  Seeing the sobbing of the sisters, hearing the wailing of the mourners, Jesus was disturbed.  Mary told him to “come and see” when Jesus asked where he was laid.  The reality was setting in . . . Jesus was moved to tears.  Those who witnessed is tears understood how much he loved his friend, Lazarus . . . yet, at the same time, they were curious as to how a person who could make a blind person see did not keep his friend from dying.

True, in the start of this story that was not shared in this reading this morning; Jesus had stated that this would happen . . . that it would be a show of the power of God . . . that Lazarus would die.  He told the disciples that in the end it was all necessary in order for them to believe.  And, sure enough, it happened just as Jesus said it would happen . . . Lazarus was dead and had been dead for several days before Jesus showed up.  He had been in the tomb for four days when Jesus arrived.  There ain’t much hope for a person who had been dead for four days. 

Yet, Mary came to him believing that he could save Lazarus from the illness that ailed him . . . she believed that Jesus could keep him from dying . . . believed that if Jesus only showed up everything would be fine.  Thus she was a little appalled when Jesus shows up too late.  Those who had seen him perform miracles had also believed . . . they believed that Jesus could have cured Lazarus of his illness, kept him from dying . . . believed that Jesus could do this; but, he didn’t and now it was too late.

The writer of this gospel does not explain the reason for Jesus’ emotional response when he asks to see where they had laid his friend.  The writer does not tell the reason for Jesus’ tears.  No, the writer only tells us that Jesus “. . . was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”  The writer leaves that up to the conjecture of the reader and listener of this story.  One could think that it had to do with the fact that Jesus did not like seeing those he loved suffer . . . did not like seeing them cry.  One could think that maybe it had to do with the knowledge he had that he could have prevented this whole mess had he only done as Mary had asked him to do.  One might believe that Jesus understood that this was an unfair situation to thrust upon his friend . . . to allow him to die, just to prove a point to his disciples and those who would witness the miracle.  You can believe whatever you want to believe, but the writer gives us no clue as to why Jesus weeps beyond the fact that he “. . . deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”

So, they go to the tomb. 

Here at the tomb the glory of God would be revealed . . . just as Jesus had told Mary when she first came to ask him for help.  But Mary, Martha and those gathered around, could not understand . . . could not believe . . . how the glory of God would be revealed through the body of a dead man.  When Jesus asks them to remove the stones that sealed the tomb, Martha insists that it is too late . . . Lazarus had been in the tomb for four days . . . he was deader than dead.  “But, Lord,” Martha said, “by this time there is a bad odor . . .”  For those gathered, the whole situation was beginning to stink.

Yet, Jesus remained staunch in his words . . . “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”  He remained adamant in request . . . in his actions . . . he wanted the stones removed.  With the removal of the stones it all came to be . . . Lazarus was restored to life . . . the people witnessed the glory of God . . . there was belief.  They discovered faith.

“Take away the stones,” he said.

Isn’t that the secret to any relationship?  Isn’t that the key to intimacy?  You have to remove the barriers . . . the stones . . . that keep the light out . . . that hide the truth . . . that separates.  Jesus knew that by removing the stones the glory of God would be revealed in the resurrection of Lazarus . . . that in seeing a dead man restored to life . . . the people would believe.  That they would discover faith.  With the stones removed the writer of this gospel tells us that “. . . therefore many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, put their faith in him.”

With the stones removed the people could see.  So it is for all of us.

I imagine that we could all names the stones that keep us from seeing . . . that keep us from believing . . . because we all have them.  It could be the many obvious ones like prejudice, race, education, wealth, poverty, dogmatism, culture . . . we all could probably name a few of these as they usually fall under the various “isms” we all know.  It could be our traditions and having always doing the things that we have always done in the same way over and over again.  It could be any number of things that separate us from God and one another . . . stones that shut out the light . . . that hides the truth . . . that keeps us from believing and having that relationship with God and one another.  It does not matter what the stones are in each of our lives . . . we all have to identify them on our own; what matters is that we begin to recognize them as being barriers that separate  and keep us from truly seeing the glory of God in our lives.

What matters is Jesus telling us to “move the stones.”

Jesus tells us, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”  Faith begins with the removal of stones . . . begins with removing that which keeps us from seeing the light . . . that keeps us from experiencing the truth.  Jesus can reveal it, but we have to move the stones first.  Until the stones are moved we can never truly experience the glory of God . . . we can never have faith.

Jesus said, “Take away the stones.”  Amen.

“We All Love Happy Endings, But . . .” (Job 42:1-6, 10-17)

In the end . . . everything turned out for the best for Job.  In the end . . . Job had the proverbial “happy ending” to his situation and to his story.  Despite being on the short end of a challenge between Satan and God . . . a challenge in which he lost his family, his wealth, and his health . . . Job receives a “happy ending”.  In the end, despite his suffering . . . despite is complaining and questioning . . . despite his adamant demand for an audience with God . . . and, despite the fact that he admits that he could never fathom the depths or the breath of God and God’s presence in the world—even to the point of repenting . . . Job still gets a “happy ending”.

Some biblical scholars have jokingly said that Walt Disney must have written the end of the Book of Job . . . the ending is just that much like the ending in a Disney movie.  In the end, Job is abundantly restored: new house, new riches, new family . . . he got it all back and then some.  Everything turned out for the best in the end . . .

. . . and, in the end, we all walked away from the story of Job—happy.  Happy that for all of his suffering he was rewarded . . . that he was blessed.  As the writer tells us: “The Lord restored his fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before. . . the Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part.  He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys.  And he also had seven sons and three daughters . . . after this he lived a hundred and forty years; he saw his children and their children to the fourth generation.”  That, my friends, is a “happy ending”.

Everyone loves a happy ending . . . but . . .

Let’s get real.  Life is not that “black and white” . . . not that clear cut . . . not that simple.  Everything in life does not end with a “happy ending” . . . no, far from it.  We all know better.  Anyone who has ever gone through anything that even comes close to what Job experienced would vouch that it is just not that simple.

I am not a gambler, but I would be willing to bet that any one of us here this morning can share a story that . . . at least to us . . . is comparable to the mess that Job experienced.  I imagine that we all have a story from our own lives or the lives of others that seem just as painful and messy as anything that Job went through.  And, I also imagine that few—if any of us—can claim that in the end we got the same results that Job got . . . that we got the happy ending when the princess rides off into the sunset and everyone lived happily ever after.

Reality is just not that way . . . life is just not that way.

No, life is messy.  People suffer.  People die.  People lose everything.  Disasters happen.  Wars break out.  Accidents happen.  As most twelve-step groups say, “Poop happens!”  Writer and psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, in his book The Road Less Traveled writes that “life is difficult and the sooner we can learn to accept it, the easier it gets.”  Knowing this are we supposed to just accept the ending of the Book of Job and go skipping off into life thinking that that is it?

Well, no, we’re not.

When we began the story of Job the first question we dealt with was the integrity of Job.  Integrity, in the first definition that most people assume, has to deal with one’s morals and beliefs.  That was what Satan was betting on . . . betting that Job would throw away his integrity due to his suffering, curse God, and be done with it all.  But, Job did not . . . never once did he waver in his faith.  Oh sure, he complained, he questioned, and he got under the skin of God . . . but he never renounced his faith.  He remained a person of integrity . . . he remained true to who he was created to be.  Which is the second definition of integrity . . . being whole, which includes the good and the bad of which a person is created to be.  In the end Job remained a person of integrity.

Throughout the story that is what Satan is betting one . . . that is what his wife tells him . . . that is what his friend insinuate.  But Job proves them all wrong in the end.  In the end, despite everything that Job has taken away . . . it is replaced.  New family, new house, new wealth.  Everything is restored . . . well, not everything.  The one thing in the end that was taken away from Job and not restored was his simple faith . . . his rock-solid confidence that he knew what he knew . . . and what he knew was what.  In the end, Job admits that he really does not know as much as he thought he knew . . . he discovers that easy and pat answers and understandings of how things work in God’s creation are not always the whole story . . . that there is a lot about God and God’s relationship with creation and humanity that he does not know or understand.  That faith is not simply “black and white”, nor is it cut and dried.  Faith is a great mystery.

As one Bible commentator stated, “. . . Job has less to go on at the end of the book than at the beginning.”  But, you know what . . . he still believes in God . . . he still embraces God . . . he still prays to God.  He still has his faith, but it is no longer the faith that was built on an earlier theology or understanding of God . . . it is less certain . . . less black and white . . . less set in stone.  There is a greater sense of mystery . . . a greater sense of wonder and awe.  He even admits it when he proclaims to God: “Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.”  In the end Job discovers that faith . . . when lived openly and honestly . . . doesn’t answer all the questions, but creates more questions.  He has a new outlook on life and God. 

Through his ordeal, Job actually grows in his faith . . . his faith matures.  Through the whole ordeal . . . through the whole Book of Job . . . he never gets an answer to his question of “why?”  All he really gets is a more intimate relationship with God . . . a greater sense of the mystery that is God . . . and, a whole lot more questions.  He also gets an understanding, even though he does not understand it and cannot explain it, that God will never, ever abandon him.

And so it is for us.

Life is not easy . . . and, yes, bad things do happen to us; but if we can accept the knowledge that God stands beside us through thick and thin, then we, too, can receive the blessing that Job received.  That blessing is not so much him having his family, home, wealth, and health restored as it was being able to embrace the fact that we do not have to have our beliefs etched in stone to have faith . . . that it is okay to have questions . . . that it is okay to have doubts . . . and to freely admit it to ourselves and to God.  God will understand . . . God will not abandon us.  It accepting that we cannot always understand . . . that God is a great mystery . . . and, that we can still believe . . . still have faith.  We don’t get it, but we still have it. 

That is faith.

That is integrity.

Accepting and being who God created us to be . . . we don’t understand why—and that is okay; but we still believe.  That is integrity . . . Job still had his integrity.  Amen.