Monday, August 12, 2013

What Keeps Us From Christ

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him a soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves. But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

Luke 12:32-40

“What Keeps Us From Christ”


My niece and nephew love to watch movies, and they always ask me to watch one when I’m in town. Inevitably, being the 16-year-old teenager that he is, Blake usually asks me to watch something that is scary, something with lots of blood and a murderer running around town, something that will make me jump out of my seat as something or someone jumps out on the screen. And my response is always the same: “Blake, I hate scary movies. There is enough in the real world to make me afraid that I don’t need to be fake scared.”
And it’s true. Isn’t there enough in the real world to scare the dickens out of us, to make us afraid, to make us fear the world and everything and everyone around us? All we have to do is turn on the TV to any major news channel to read the constant ticker at the bottom, read our local paper online or at our breakfast table, or listen to the news on the radio to know that there is a lot to fear out there in our broken world. I happened to look at cnn.com one day this week as I was thinking about what makes us afraid. No lie—these were the top breaking stories: --Flooding in 12 states. --A heart stent for our past president. --One dad who says that a kidnapping suspect was like family; another dad who feared that a body found was that of his missing son. --A terror threat for Americans across the world. --7 drone strikes in 2 weeks. --A bitter fight at the Fort Hood murder trial. --A house of terror in which 3 women were brutalized for 10 years finally being torn down.
Luckily, all of these breaking news stories were followed by the “breaking news” of Beyonce’s new haircut, but still. Those top stories tell us all that we need to know—that we are living in a world where natural disasters tear lives apart, where illness like heart disease can change our lives in an instant, where children and women are subject to brutality and murder, where people wake up simply to wonder where their next meal is coming from, where un or underemployment colors what we do every day, where issues of violence and terror sometimes seem to reign in our lives. It is a world that is scary and broken and sinful, a world that causes so much distress and fear.
“Do not be afraid, little flock,” Jesus says, “for it is God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Do not be afraid, our Savior reminds us. It is easy to hear Jesus’ words to us, but so very hard to take them to heart, to believe them, to live them. There is so much brokenness and sinfulness in the world that keeps us afraid, brokenness that keeps us from the world, that keeps us from each other, so much that keeps us from our Christ.
Think about some of the things we face each day:
--We live in fear of losing what we have, the stuff we have attained, the busyness of our everyday lives. We spend so much time each day flipping from channel to channel, driving from appointment to appointment, eating our meals in the car, on the run, filling up our calendars with meetings. So many of us, myself included, have so much when there are others with so little in the world. I look at my house, a home designed for a family of 4, a home that is filled (and I do mean filled) with the stuff of 1 person instead. Enough. So much stuff.  There is so much noise in our lives. And all of that keeps us from being with God. We are so scared to give up what we have, afraid to give up what we see as our stake in the world, afraid that, if we really spend our time talking to God, that God will prompt us to something new, something scary and unexpected. Jesus says to us, “Do not be afraid, little flock…Sell your possessions, and give alms. . . for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
--We live in a country that is so wonderful and rich and diverse in so many ways, but we are so often afraid to celebrate that diversity. Instead, we focus on what divides us, our deep political divisions, our divisions among class that are growing wider each day, our divisions among race and religion and sexuality. Instead of celebrating the incredibly diverse culture we have, celebrating those around us and what we can learn from each other, we each retreat to our own corners. Instead of talking to each other and learning from our differences, we demonize each other, refusing to take the risk of opening ourselves up to challenge, or—God forbid—the possibility that we might be wrong. Instead of sharing stories with each other, we throw rocks at each other, proclaiming that we are better or more perfect or more faithful. Simply put, instead of celebrating each person as a child of God, we live in fear of the “other,” lest they challenge our beliefs or presumptions or standing in the world, lest they challenge us to give up our need for power. The fear of losing our lives and our livelihoods keeps us from being in relationship with one another. I love that Luke tells us that, when Jesus comes back, the tables of presumption and power will be overturned: “Do not be afraid, little flock…Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them.” Jesus will come and tell us to put aside our fears. Jesus the King will come and invited the slaves to dine at table.
--We live in fear of opening up our lives and hearts because of our experiences with other people in the past—when we have been hurt by the selfishness of others, we shut ourselves down, afraid to be hurt again. When we have been deeply hurt in relationships—friendships, in our family lives, in our romantic relationships, we become too afraid to open ourselves up to love again. When we have been lonely and are desperate for love, it is sometimes easier to live in fear and stay alone rather than open our hearts and lives up to the pain that sometimes accompanies the riskiness of love. It is easier to live in fear, to be afraid, than to risk vulnerability and openness and the pain that sometimes comes with them. We are too afraid to truly experience relationship and all that comes with it. In so many ways, it is easier to turn our lights, our lives off, rather than shine brightly with the light of new possibility. But our Lord reassures us once again, “Do not be afraid, little flock. . . have your lamps lit.”
“Do not be afraid,” Jesus says, but there is so much that keeps us afraid, keeps us fearful in our world. Our fear, our risk of losing what we have earned and bought, of losing what we have kept, of losing our power and place in the world, keeps us from living in the world and seeing the great need that is all around us. Our fear of opening ourselves up to those who are different keeps us from seeing the diversity all around us, protects us from challenging the way we live our lives, protects us from challenge from our long-held beliefs. Our fear keeps us from changing, and that ultimately keeps us from growing and becoming more whole as we learn from our brothers and sisters around us. And our fear keeps us from being in relationship with each other. Each and every one of us has been hurt by our love for someone else, and we are so afraid of experiencing that kind of pain again—and that comes with the great risk of losing possibility, losing love, losing hope.
All of that fear, all of that being afraid, is what keeps us from relationship with each other, and a result, from Christ. When we have so much in our lives that blocks us from opening up, so much that holds us back from sharing what we have, so much that keeps us from loving each other, we are keeping ourselves from relationship with Christ. Christ constantly calls us to give what we have to each other, to share our lives together, to make sure everyone, no matter what their circumstance, is taken care of—fed, clothed, cleaned, cleansed, sheltered, loved. Christ tells us not to be afraid and then calls us to open our lives up to the possibility that something amazing might just happen when we put our fears aside. I don’t think it’s an accident that the imperative rings out throughout our Gospel: to Zechariah as he fervently prays for a son; to Mary as she finds out she is having a child; to the shepherds in the field as they hear news about a child who has been born; to Simon Peter and the others as they are called to discipleship; to Jairus as he begs for Jesus to bring his daughter back to life; to the disciples as they begin to realize the reality and cost of following him. Do not fear. Do not be afraid. Open the treasure of your wallets to make sure others have what they need to live. Open the treasure of your hearts to the new possibility and power of love. Open the treasure of your lives to the hope and richness that comes from loving with your brothers and sisters. Open your lives to Christ.
This passage tells us so much about how to live our lives, and it ultimately tells us so much about our God as revealed in Jesus Christ. The passage tells us about an intimate God, a God who cares about us, craves relationship with us. It tells us about a God who will come at an unexpected time not to punish, but to abundantly bless. I love how Audrey West says it in her theological perspective. She reminds us that this passage, this imperative to not be afraid, is a reminder of God’s sovereignty and gracious protection, a certain antidote to the human problems of misplaced confidence, complacency, and fear. She says, “This is not a God who, after creating the universe, sits back and dispassionately watches it all unfold. This is a God who attends to the sparrows, ravens, and lilies, a God whose concern for humankind extends to the very hairs of our heads, a God whose desire is to give the treasure of heaven.” Our fear of the world, our fear of opening our lives up, our fear of loving, is indeed what keeps us from each other, what keeps us from Christ. But Christ tells us to stop living in fear, to stop being afraid, to start living and to start loving. And with such great grace, such overwhelming forgiveness, such incredible love, Christ shows us how to live. Thanks be to God.