Pentecost XVIII, Proper 22
Job 1:1; 2:1-10
Psalm 26
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
Mark 10:2-16
+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
In 2006, a University of Texas researcher began a study about the development of racial attitudes in children.1 She recruited about a hundred Caucasian families from Austin. She screened participants to make sure that every parent embraced multi-cultural diversity.
She divided the families into three groups and assigned each group different tasks. She directed one group of parents to discuss racial equality with their children for five nights. Immediately, five families of this group quit the study. One parent explained, “We don’t want to have these conversations with our child. We don’t want to point out skin color.”
The researcher gave the remaining families a checklist of conversation topics for them to cover. Each evening the families filled out diaries of their conversations to record the content. Later when the researcher examined these dairies, she noticed that the parents had barely mentioned the items in her checklist of conversation topics. She said, “A lot of parents came to me afterwards and admitted they just didn’t know what to say to their kids, and they didn’t want the wrong thing coming out of the mouth of their kids.”
I understand that, but maybe we could all try to be a bit more accepting of mistakes. When we avoid addressing a difficult subject, we send the message that the topic is out of bounds, that it shouldn’t be discussed. If we can’t forthrightly, openly discuss something, it’s highly unlikely we will experience much growth and learning there. We get stuck. We become more brittle, more fearful, less able to adapt to circumstances, less able to deal with reality.
As I read about this study, it struck me how difficult it is for us to have open conversations about highly sensitive topics. I thought of how I avoid the 800 pound gorilla in the room – sometimes because I don’t see it, and sometimes I consciously avoid it because I don’t have the energy or courage or because I don’t want to make a mistake or to risk offense. It can be hard to talk about difficult topics even in our families.
Thinking about this helps me appreciate how much Jesus annoyed people, how much he would have annoyed me. He was always pointing out the 800 pound gorilla that we’d prefer to remain unnoticed. He asked us to deal with difficult issues directly, openly.
In today’s gospel, he speaks about marriage and children. The Jewish Law allowed a husband to divorce his wife. Wives couldn’t divorce their husbands. At the time of Jesus, the debate was about acceptable reasons for a husband to divorce his wife. The traditional point of view was that almost any reason was sufficient. Others argued that only infidelity was sufficient cause. Matthew’s gospel endorses this point of view. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus allows no cause for divorce. Jesus refuses to sanction divorce for any reason.
In taking this position, Jesus is siding with the vulnerable. In ancient Israel, when a man divorced his wife, she would be in a very bad way. Women couldn’t own property. A divorced woman likely would have no way of taking care of herself. She would have to rely upon her relations, if she had any, and if they would have anything to do with her. Divorced women were as vulnerable as young children, whom Jesus embraces in today’s gospel.
The combination of the question about marriage and the blessing of children is not accidental. Rather, these two incidents express Jesus’ concern for the well-being of families, which requires the weak to be protected from the strong. Consistently in his ministry, Jesus expresses concern about the obligations of the strong and privileged for those at the bottom of the social ladder. He desires the powerful to accept responsibility to assist the powerless. Jesus is seeking care and safety for the vulnerable.
It’s no wonder that some prefer to read this passage as condemnation of the divorced. That interpretation allows us to judge others and avoid our own responsibilities. Jesus said, “Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?” (Mt 7:3) Or as a contemporary translation aptly puts it: “It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own.” (Message Bible)
Jesus did declare God’s intent that marriage be permanent, but of course that does not prevent marriages from failing. That marriages do end calls forth from us love and empathy, not judgment, especially since divorce is so public. Other human failures are usually much easier to hide. In next week’s gospel, Jesus tells a man that the way to eternal life requires him to go and sell all that he has and give it to the poor. He talks about how hard it is for those with wealth – like most of us – to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. What we do with money is much more easily disguised. No one has to know whether or not we use it to care for the weak and vulnerable, and we don’t like that kind of accountability.
Indeed, for the strong and wealthy money is a very sensitive topic. It may be even more difficult for some of us to talk about than race. We’d prefer to separate money and the way we use it from our spiritual life, but what we do with money is very much a spiritual issue. God gives us gifts – abilities, opportunities, advantages as well as money, and how we use these gifts is at the root of our spiritual lives. Spirituality is not primarily about nice feelings or even sublime mystical moments, but is more about what we do with what God has given us.
I find money a touchy subject. It provokes conflict in me. Where does true value come from? What do I really enjoy? I’m strongly inclined to desire wealth, comfort, security, success, acclaim. But the gospel, what we’ve dedicated our lives to, what’s so attractive about Jesus, says that real value comes from our relationship with God and with other people; that real value comes from service, sacrifice, generosity; that real value comes from being a Godsend to others. I find two selves in me, desiring different things.
The work of God through this parish is to narrow that gap between our reality and our ideal. This is spiritual growth. It is work that we can’t do on our own. God works through other people, through our community. The generosity and faith surrounding me here nurtures spiritual growth in me and helps me to trust God a bit more. As I struggle with my selfishness, the goodness and sacrifice I see from others here moves me toward my better self, toward what I’d like to be.
During October, as we begin our 2010 pledge campaign, we are going to focus much attention on stewardship – using the gifts God has given us to do the work God is calling us to do. I ask you to increase your giving. You’ve been generous, but financially things remain very tight here. This challenge is an opportunity, a divine invitation, for spiritual growth. Money is sacramental. What we do with it shows us what is important to us. It shows us where our hearts are.
This morning we could be talking about ponies and puppies and St. Francis’ love for them and everything cuddly-wuddly. Jesus’ blessing the children could allow us to talk about how cutesy-wootsy they are. We could indulge in all kinds of sentimentality to avoid our spiritual reality. Instead, we’re reflecting upon our giving to support Jesus’ ministry and also how we give to support charities and those in need. We might prefer to avoid this topic, but frankly I don’t think it should cause us too much anxiety.
I think this for two reasons. First, we’ve grown a lot in our ability to talk about difficult things. As a parish, we are far less apt to avoid the 800 pound gorilla in the room, and we learn more and more from one another.
Second, this parish has exhibited strong faith and generosity consistently. Together we increased our pledged giving ten percent over last year. That’s a significant, remarkable accomplishment in a time of economic weakness. We’re not perfect. We’ve room for growth. But there’s real generosity, sacrifice, and commitment here. It’s inspiring, and I’m proud to be part of it, and I’m grateful to you.
The stewardship team has developed several events for the next few weeks, and I encourage you to participate fully in them. The stewardship team has discussed the spiritual dimension of our work, that we want openness, that it’s an opportunity for learning, that gratitude is our primary motivation. We don’t endorse manipulative emotions of fear and guilt; they don’t lead to godly, joyful giving.
In a couple of weeks, our stewardship team and the finance committee will make a report at coffee hour, giving us a picture where we are. On Monday evening October 19, Fr Major – an old friend of the parish – will be our speaker at a potluck dinner to celebrate and give thanks for our ministry. Today at coffee hour we’ll have a program to reflect about our own experiences of giving and about generosity – where it comes from, how it develops in us. The learning will come from yourself and your neighbors – not from clerical pronouncements from on high. I think that you will enjoy it.
In our parish family there are remarkable stories of transformation, of how our generosity has made a real difference. I thank you for your trust and confidence in God and for your courage. Together, I believe, I strongly believe, we’re moving toward our better selves.
+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
1 Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman, “See Baby Discriminate,” Newsweek, September 14, 2009, pp. 53-60.
©2009 Lane John Davenport
