The Status Is Not Quo
Rejoicing as Calm, Peace, and Striving for Justice
Lord of the Streets Episcopal Church
May 21, 2023
7 Easter, Year A
Acts 1:6-14
1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11
John 17:1-11
In the movie, “Flight,” Denzel Washington plays an airline pilot who made a miraculous landing in a crippled airplane that should have crashed, and he was able to save all but three people on board, and those three died because they took off their seat belts. The only problem was, he was drunk and high on coke while he was flying.
Throughout the movie, he’s heralded as a hero, which he certainly was, and there was an investigation into the flight, as there certainly should have been. So, as he’s hiding the fact that he was drunk and high during the flight, he spirals further and further into alcoholism. He fights the truth because in his mind, it doesn’t matter if he was drunk. He’d landed the plane. No one else could have done what he did. He was a hero, and he should have been lauded as a hero. At the same time, he is thoroughly miserable and pretty much seems to hate himself, his life, and most everyone in his life.
The investigation turns up missing vodka from the plane, which he had drunk, and his team of lawyers decide to say that one of the flight attendants who had died, had drunk the vodka. All Denzel has to do is lie, agree to that story, and he’ll be off scot-free, and exalted by everyone as a hero.
As he’s about to give this lie, he finally realizes that he can’t do it. He can’t lie about this flight attendant who had herself saved another passenger, buckling a kid into his seat, which is why she was out of her seat and died. He admits to being drunk and high while flying and ends up in prison over the whole thing. No more flying. No more career. No more being a hero in people’s eyes.
Rather than being miserable, however, he ends up sober, happy, glad that he finally admitted what had been going on. He says that for the first time in his life, even though he’s in prison, he’s finally free.
“Humble yourselves,” Peter wrote. “Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that in due time he may exalt you.” Until the end of the movie, Denzel Washington’s character, was seen as a hero, lauded up high by everyone, but inside, he was down in the dirt low. He was miserable. He was angry. He was scared, and he resented and drove off everyone around him.
Then, he humbled himself by admitting the truth, and finally, he was exalted. He was in prison, but he was exalted, because he was finally joyous and free. He was also no longer alone. We see, while he’s in prison, pictures and letters from people who care about him, people whom he had driven, but who have now been able to reestablish their relationship with him. Even though he’s in prison, he’s finally exalted.
“Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that in due time he may exalt you.”
Ok, so let’s look at what this passage obviously doesn’t mean. If you talk like crap about yourself, and if think like crap about yourself, then God will reward you by making you ruler of everything. That’s obviously not what this passage means. Being humble does not mean thinking badly of yourself, and being exalted by God does not mean becoming the best, most important person ever.
True humility means seeing ourselves as we truly are and accepting ourselves as we truly are. If we’re great at stuff, we can admit that. We don’t have to be jerks about it, but can admit that we’re good at things. Where we’re not good at things and probably never will be, we get to admit that too. We look deep within ourselves and admit our faults. We get to admit our triumphs. We get admit where we’ve hurt and harmed others. We get to look at ourselves with deep honesty. That’s humility.
Now another thing Peter writes about in his letter is not just when we hurt others, but when we are unjustly hurt by others. What does humility have to say about that?
Humbling ourselves when we are unjustly hurt by others can mean not accepting their hurt and denigration of us. Humbling ourselves, again, means accepting ourselves as we truly are, not as the person who hurt us sees us. Then, humility can be letting go of the resentment we have toward that person. “Cast all your anxieties upon [God], for he cares about you,” Peter writes. Letting go of anger and fear is an act of humility. Doing so gives God something to work with to help heal us. I’m angry, I’m fearful because this person is hurting me, Lord, and I can’t handle it all on my own. I need your help. As we seek humility, even when we’ve been harmed, we open ourselves up to God’s healing.
What about, however, when we’ve hurt others? Well, humility in that case is admitting the fact that we have hurt them, and then also looking at why we hurt them. Perhaps because they hurt us first, and they absolutely deserved whatever we did? Perhaps we hurt someone because we were scared or anxious? Again, when we look humbly into the depths of ourselves, at the truth within us, we give God something to work with to be able to exalt us.
So then, what does being exalted look like? I first talked about Denzel Washington’s movie character being exalted by being in prison but also, finally being joyous and free. I said that being exalted does not mean becoming the best, most important person ever. In this life, being exalted is not about being raised up above others. Being exalted is about being raised up out of our own misery and fear. Being exalted means being able to love who we are, warts and all. Being exalted means trusting that God cares about us, casting our anxieties upon God rather than lashing out at others because of our anxieties and self-soothing through destructive means.
Calm. Peace. Acceptance. That’s what being exalted by God looks like. Freedom from the bondage of hatred and resentment toward those who harm us unjustly. That’s what being exalted by God looks like. Even when our enemies are society at large or our governments, even when they are the ones who harm us unjustly, Peter writes for us to rejoice. That sounds odd.
“Rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ's sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed.” Rejoicing doesn’t mean pretending to be happy and acting like nothing is wrong. Rejoicing can look like can look like calm, peace, acceptance, and letting go of hatred and resentment. Rejoicing can look like casting our anxieties upon God. Rejoicing can look like trusting that while in this life, all will not go as we want or deserve, there is a new life after death in which God will grant us the love, the delight, and the exaltation we deserve.
With rejoicing as calm, peace, acceptance, and freedom from hatred and resentment, we get to rejoice and still admit sorrow. Admitting the fact that we are still hurting and afraid is part of humility and being exalted. Rejoicing, exaltation, and humility don’t mean that we’re going to be a doormat. When being unjustly oppressed by others, rejoicing doesn’t mean that we say, “No, it’s fine. You can keep on oppressing me. I’m good.” That’s not rejoicing. Rejoicing means striving for justice. Rejoicing means joining with others to stand up to oppressors, but doing so with love rather than hatred.
Rejoicing doesn’t mean denying the hurt or pretending all is well when all is not well. Doing so is the opposite of humility: pretending, lying to ourselves and everyone else around us.
That’s what Denzel Washington’s character was doing in the movie, Flight. Humility is honesty with ourselves, honesty with others, and honesty with God. Exaltation is freedom from the bondage of hatred and fear, freedom from self-loathing, freedom from anxiety and misery.
Rejoicing, even amidst suffering, is calm, peace, acceptance, and freedom from hatred and resentment. Rejoicing is sometimes still mingled with sorrow, but rejoicing is trusting in God. Even though all will not be right in this life, all will not be as it should be in this life, we rejoice as all will be well. Whether in this life or the next, we rejoice as all will be well. We rejoice with the exaltation of calm, peace, acceptance, and freedom from hatred and resentment that is brought by humbling ourselves under the mighty hand of God and casting our anxieties upon him, for he cares about us.
“In returning and rest we shall be saved. In quietness and confidence shall be our strength.”
Lord of the Streets Episcopal Church
May 14, 2023
6 Easter, Year A
Acts 17:22-31
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
Psalm 66:7-18
“In returning and rest we shall be saved. In quietness and confidence shall be our strength.”
Has anyone else ever found themselves worshipping an idol, or is it just me? Interesting Sunday when the priest tells you he’s been worshipping idols, but I figure I should be honest about that when the sermon topic includes idol worship. Now, in our reading from Acts, Paul was talking about what we often think of as idols, little statues of gold or wood, and no, I’ve not bowed down and prayed to a little statue made of gold or wood.
It was bronze…kidding.
When Paul saw all of the things the Athenians had for their various religions, he saw idols, little statues, and he saw an altar to “an unknown God.” Paul let them know that God was not actually unknown, and pointed out that God is not anything like a little statue. God is not something that we make.
God is, in fact, beyond all of creation. As vast as the universe is, all of the universe is contained within God. Anything that we could make or do is contained within God, for as Paul said, “In God we live and move and have our being.” Rather, than something we make, God made us and all of creation so that we would search for God and perhaps grope for God and find God.
Union with God is the deepest desire of our souls, and God is always united to us. The trick of the devil is not to separate us from God; that’s impossible. The trick of the devil is to have us think that we’re separated from God and then to think that something else will fill that void.
In the Garden of Eden in the second story of creation, we find desire for knowledge as the first idol. Remember, God told the humans not to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but the serpent told them that they actually should eat it, told them that God had lied to them. The serpent tricked them into thinking that their union with God was broken and gone. Then the serpent let them think that the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, would somehow replace their union with God, would satisfy their longing for union with God. Their union with God wasn’t actually broken, but the serpent convinced them it was and then lied to them about how they could fix their longing.
Classic marketing strategy on the serpent’s part. Here’s a problem you didn’t know you had; now you can fix it by purchasing this.
Our souls want union with God. We actually have union with God, but our hurts and fears, our anxieties and traumas often keep us from realizing the unity we have. We feel a deep longing for peace. We feel great disquiet within ourselves, and we long comfort, for soothing, for some way to know that we are ok or to stop caring that we are not. In our hurts and fears, our anxieties and traumas, we seek all sorts of things which we think will fix us or fill us.
Some seek money and power, never having enough, even when they’ve got more than they could need in multiple lifetimes. Others simply have enough, and yet they still fret constantly, worried about the future and if there will be enough. In either case, money can become an idol when it becomes our focus in soothing all our fears and anxieties. That’s one of the kinds of idols I was talking about earlier. If only I had enough not to worry about money, well then, I’d be ok.
We have countless idols, not statues of gold and wood, things that we think will help soothe our souls. Being right and making sure we can prove others wrong can be an idol. Hanging on to anger and resentment can be an idol. Finding fault in others to make ourselves feel better can be an idol. The what ifs of the past or the if onlys of the future can be idols. Numbing and escaping reality can be an idol.
So, now when I ask, “has anyone else ever found themselves worshipping an idol,” maybe you get my meaning a bit more? The kinds of idols I’m talking about: money, more, being right, resentment, anger, escape, what if, if only, numbing out…these kinds of things are idols I’m guessing all of us find ourselves turning to.
My point is not, “Oh, we’re terrible idolaters, how awful of us.” My point is that we are hurting, and we tend to seek help in ways that don’t actually help us all that much. We unwittingly believe the serpent’s lie that our union with God is broken and any number of these other things will fix it.
The truth is, “In God we live and move and have our being.” God is with us, among us, around us, in us, and through us all the time. So, when we set our minds on other things to fix us, we ignore the life all around us. When we turn to the idols of money and more; the idols of being right, resentment, anger; the idols of escape, what if, if only, and numbing out, when we turn to those idols, we block out God in whom we live and move and have our being. When we turn to these idols, we block out the peace we can have by turning to God in whom we live and move and have our being.
I was talking with a gentleman a while back, seeking some peace, and we talked about prayer and meditation as ways to be with God, rather than disassociate from our fears and anxieties.
We talked about having a rhythm of prayer. Rhythm has been found to help heal trauma. Our bodies are wired for rhythm. Our breath, our heartbeats, the steps we take, all in rhythm. There are the rhythms of the sun and the moon, night and day, the rhythms of the seasons. We’ve separated ourselves from a lot of these natural rhythms in modern society, and I believe that adds to our stress. So, adding in some rhythm of prayer can help heal our bodies, spending time with God in whom we live and move and have our being.
In the Episcopal Church, we have a rhythm of prayer. Eucharist every Sunday. We also have daily prayer: morning, noon, evening, and night. Following this rhythm of prayer helps bring rhythm back into our lives and helps bring us into constant awareness of God’s presence with, and around, and within us.
Another way to spend time in awareness of God meditation, specifically a meditation prayer called Centering Prayer. In Centering Prayer, you spend time in silence, focusing on your breathing, simply being in the present moment, aware of God’s presence around and within you.
The way it works is you sit in silence for a few minutes, or up to twenty minutes, and you simply breathe. Before you begin, you choose a “sacred word,” generally something related to faith: God, Jesus, Love. Mine is Peace. The sacred word is used to draw us back to the center and back to the breath. As we sit in silence, thoughts will come, as thoughts tend to do, and when thoughts come, we say our sacred word in our minds to let go of the thoughts and draw us back to the present, to the breath.
Centering Prayer is a way of letting go of our thoughts, simply experiencing the quiet (or the noise) of the present. Simply experiencing the quiet of breathing, of life around us. Simply experiencing God in whom we live and move and have our being.
The result is peace.Dwelling not in the past or the future, but simply dwelling in the present, focusing on the breath, breathing God in and out, we find peace.
Rather than disassociate because of hurt and trauma, rather than use various idols, we can seek rhythm of prayer and meditation. We can seek to know and live unity with God, for it is God in whom we live and move and have our being. Union with God is the deepest desire of our souls, and despite the devil’s lie, we are still united with God. We always have been. When we let go our idols, when we turn to rhythm of prayer and meditation, we help our bodies realize the union with God that is always there. The union with God that is always with us. The union of God that brings us peace.
Because Sometimes, We Kinda Suck…
Lord of the Streets Episcopal Church
May 7, 2023
5 Easter, Year A
Acts 7:55-60
1 Peter 2:2-10
John 14:1-14
Because Sometimes, We Kinda Suck…
“While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them.’ When he had said this, he died.” As he was actively being killed by an angry mob with rocks, Stephen prayed, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
We see the absolute worst and the absolute best of humanity right there. We see a man who was so full of love and hope, that he did not fight against the mob or kill in order to save his life. He was at peace during his murder, praying forgiveness on his murderers. We also see a violent and angry mob worked up into a lathered frenzy so crazed that they gleefully murdered a young man because he believed something different than they did.
In this moment of our history, we see humanity’s enormous capacity for good, for selflessness, and for love. At the same time, we see our brutality and mindless rage, and end up having to reckon with the fact that humanity is so hurting and broken that when God became human, it only took us 30 years to kill him. God, who is love, became human, and we killed him in 30 years.
So, we humans are pretty fantastic, and we also kinda suck.
Still, we have the fact of God becoming human. Knowing that we would kill him, God still thought it was a pretty good idea to join with us in our humanity. God thought it was a good idea to become one of us, to join with us in every aspect of our humanity, including our death, and God thought it was a good idea to join with the absolute worst of humanity by allowing us to perpetrate the very worst of ourselves against him. God joined with our lives, our deaths, our goodness, and our hurts and atrocities. Despite the fact that we often suck, God still thinks that we’re also pretty fantastic. God thinks we’re worth saving.
So, Jesus told his disciples, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” Jesus said, because he was going to prepare a place for us to bring us home.
Our home is unity with God and unity with one another.
Where’s that? Thomas wanted to know. Where is this home with God and one another? Jesus replied, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
Follow in my ways, Jesus was saying. Follow in the ways of forgiveness and love, and you will find your home with God and one another.
Follow in my teachings, Jesus was saying. Follow in the truths I have taught you, and you will find your home with God and one another.
Follow in my life, Jesus was saying. Follow me and trust in the life I give, the resurrection life I have given, joining humanity and divinity.
God thought we were fantastic enough that God became one with us, and Jesus is telling us to trust in that unity with God and then follow and live, recognizing God in every person around us.
What about if we don’t believe that, however? What if we don’t believe that God is in every person around us? Well, what we believe seems to be less important than how we treat one another. In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus said that whatever we do to one another we do to him. The people in the story Jesus told didn’t believe that they were one with God. They weren’t following Jesus or seem to believe in Jesus. Those who treated others with compassion, respect, healing, and love were told basically, “Welcome home.”
Treating others with compassion and respect is the way home Jesus talked about. Treating others with healing and forgiveness is the way home Jesus talked about.
Treating others with mercy and love is the way home Jesus talked about.
Come home, Jesus says, to unity with God. Come home to unity with love. Come home to the life we saw Stephen live in our reading from Acts, who even in the face of death, did not kill, or shout, or condemn, but offered forgiveness and love to those who were killing him. Stephen was home already, and after he died, he continued living at home with God.
That is the life Jesus offers us, the peace and healing that Stephen had.
Just in the last two weeks, we’ve heard of how many murders? Dozens? Some within blocks of here, some near, some far away. How many countless others have there been that we don’t even know about? When I said earlier that humanity often sucks, we know that already. We know that all too well.
God knows that too, and that’s exactly why God became human, because God sees us. God sees the goodness of humanity along with our brokenness, and God knows we need healing. God knows we need healing of our hurt and our fear. God knows we need healing of our anger and despair. God knows we need healing from our rage and brutality. So, God joined with all of that, so that even at our worst, Jesus is there with us saying, “Come home.”
Come home to peace. Lay aside your anger. Lay aside your need to vengeance. Bring me your hurts, Jesus says, and follow me home to healing. Bring me your anger, Jesus says, and follow me home to forgiveness. Bring me your despair, Jesus says, and follow me home to peace. Bring me your fear, Jesus says, and follow me home to love.
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