Tortured Soul

On June 18, 2010June 18, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn Bible study reflection3 Comments

This week’s Bible study discussion was on Luke 8:26-39.

Exorcism is a controversial topic for discussion. Many people are rightly disturbed by the fact that accusations of demonic possession have been levied against people who suffer from medically discernible disorders such as epilepsy, Tourette’s syndrome, schizophrenia, and dissociative identity disorder. Our LGBT sisters and brothers can testify to the fact that accusations of demonic influence are often hurled at those who deviate from accepted patterns of behavior prescribed by dominant religious officials. Jesus himself endured such accusations during his ministry.

With all this in mind, I approached this week’s discussion on the story of the Gerasene demoniac with not a little fear and trembling.

However the demoniac’s condition is understood, it cannot be denied that this story begins with an encounter between Jesus and a tortured soul. This person is estranged among strangers. The story begins as Jesus leads his disciples into Gentile territory on the far side of the Sea of Galilee. The region of Gerasa was inhabited by people of different race, religion, and politics from the twelve disciples.

As soon as they arrive, they are met by the village idiot, but not the silly contrivance of Monty Python sketches. This is a truly disturbed and disturbing person. Those who know may be reminded of Cowboy in Utica or Ross in Vancouver. Demon spirits, tombs, wilderness, and ritually unclean animals (pigs) give the story a rather menacing tone. The disciples are probably feeling literally and figuratively “dis-placed” by such an opening to their venture beyond the pale of Jewish society.

I remember the first time I visited the Downtown East Side of Vancouver. While I was waiting for the church doors to open, a hooker propositioned me on the sidewalk saying, “Ooh! You look horny for ME!” Not knowing what else to do, I just said, “No thanks” and nervously pretended to look at something else. It was a little overwhelming for a southern boy from the burbs who was living in the big city for the first time. I imagine Jesus’ disciples experiencing similar emotions during their encounter in Gerasa.

Jesus, however, is unphased by Legion’s display of insanity. The most remarkable thing to me is Jesus’ ability to separate the problem from the person. The problem is eliminated but the person is healed. The Gerasene man was previously “demonized”, but has now been “humanized” by the ministry of Christ.

This is quite similar to the approach taken by those in recovery from various addictions. For the last half-century, addiction has been increasingly recognized as a disease for which a person must receive treatment. One hundred years ago, someone would have been called a drunk, now we know that such a person suffers from the disease of alcoholism. In this area, we too have begun to separate the problem from the person.

One member of our community at St. James, who has been in recovery from alcoholism for several decades, was able to identify the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) in this story. Like the demoniac, she too was restored to sanity by her Higher Power.

In the denouement, we read that the Gerasene man is now “sitting at the feet of Jesus”, a remarkable phrase used to describe the relationship between rabbis and their disciples. The same phrase was used to describe the relationship between Jesus and Mary of Bethany. What this indicates is that Jesus is interested in recruiting women and non-Jews into his cadre of disciples. This would be unheard of in that time.

The transformation in the Gerasene man is obvious to those who know him. In fact, it causes quite a bit of consternation among the locals. This is not surprising considering that communal systems tend to resist change.

Recovering addicts and alcoholics are able to relate to this as well. Re-defining family relationships is one of the most stressful parts of recovery. The family had maintained a delicate balance and rhythm for survival while their loved one was drinking and/or using. When that person gets clean & sober, the balance and rhythm get disturbed. There are two easy ways out of this situation: the person in recovery can “pick up” their substance of choice again or the person can leave the family system altogether.

The Gerasene man occupied a certain place in the communal rhythm of Gerasene society. He was the person upon whom everyone else could look down. His healing upset that rhythm, causing anxiety in the broader community. He might face even more marginalization after his healing than he did before. It would be easy for him to get out of town. In fact, he tries to do just that when he asks Jesus if he can go with him. But Jesus doesn’t allow the man the easy way out. Already a disciple, Jesus sends the man back to his own town. In essence, Jesus ordains him the first apostle to the Gentile people. He is instructed to tell them the story of what has happened to him. Our friend in recovery pointed out that this is not at all unlike the twelfth step in the AA program, where the recovering alcoholic is instructed to “carry this message” to those who still suffer.

This is not just a story about exorcism. It is the story of a tortured soul who finds healing and purpose through his connection to Jesus. It is a story about crossing boundaries and encountering real humanity in the most unexpected places.

Do we have enough courage to venture beyond the pale of our “normal” lives and see human beings where there only demons? Do we have enough insight to discern the difference between people and problems? Do we have enough faith to let our comfortable systems be upset so we can share in the healing work that God is doing in our midst?

“You’ve got to look outside your eyes / You’ve got to think outside your brain / You’ve got to walk outside your life / to where the neighborhood changes.” ~Ani DiFranco, “Willing to Fight”

You Are Witnesses

On May 16, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn SermonLeave a comment

Preached this morning at Boonville Presbyterian Church. The texts are Luke 24:44-53 and Acts 1:1-11.

Growing up as an evangelical Christian in the southern United States, I got to experience a unique style of performance art that originated in churches. It’s called the Testimony.

Here’s how it works:

Every so often, the pastor would invite certain members of the community to come before the church and share their stories of how they became Christians (or “got saved” as they used to say). These were always exciting services. We heard stories of sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll that ended in disaster but rebounded with glorious tales of redemption at the last possible moment.

While there was never any official competition going on, you could always tell when two or more “Witnesses” were trying to outdo one another in their ability to testify. Testimonies were typically evaluated according to three criteria: 1) the popularity/fame of the person who spoke, 2) the intense passion with which the story was told, and 3) the depths of depravity to which one stooped before embracing the light of salvation.

The most memorable testimony I ever heard came from a veteran named Clebe McClary. He had been an officer in the Marine Corps during the Vietnam War. During combat, he lost an eye and his left arm. After returning to the States and enduring years of recovery, he became a motivational speaker, encouraging people to press on in life, despite their difficulties and setbacks.

Even though these testimonies can quickly become outlandish in their content and presentation, I still think they serve a useful purpose: they get ordinary people involved in telling their own stories of God’s presence in their lives.

Human beings love stories. We tell stories around campfires, we sing songs about them, we write them down in books, we make movies about them, etc. Story is how we communicate truth to one another. Aesop told fables. Jesus told parables. Ask any religious person to tell you about his or her faith, and that person will probably tell you a story.

Our Scripture readings this morning from the book of Acts and the gospel of Luke come at a very critical turning point in the Christian story. Now, the first thing you should know is that Luke and Acts, while they are separate books in our Bibles, actually form one complete story. Most scholars agree that Luke and Acts were written by the same person, although the author’s name is never signed on the paper. Likewise, we know that they were written to the same person, Theophilus. Acts follows Luke in much the same way that Return of the Jedi follows The Empire Strikes Back in the original Star Wars trilogy. We read this morning from the very end of Luke’s gospel and the very beginning of Acts. At this moment in our story, traditionally referred to as The Ascension, two major shifts are happening.

The first shift is geographical:

Most of the action in Luke’s gospel follows Jesus from the beginning of his public ministry in far-away Galilee to the center of Jewish life in Jerusalem. In the book of Acts, the action begins in Jerusalem and continues “to the ends of the earth”. Acts ends with the Apostle Paul awaiting trial before Caesar in Rome.

The second shift is personal:

Luke’s gospel focuses primarily on the life of Jesus himself. The story begins with Jesus’ birth and ends with his death, resurrection, and ascension into heaven. The book of Acts focuses on the lives of Jesus’ followers in the years following his earthly ministry. To be sure, Jesus is still central to the story (in a divine sense), but has taken a step back from the immediate action (in a human sense). To put it another way, Jesus has become the director of the play, while the Apostles are the actors on the stage. The story of Acts begins with Jesus’ ascension into heaven but doesn’t have a climactic end in the way you and I are used to thinking. I like to think this is because the story hasn’t ended yet. It goes on and on through the generations, right up until today. As followers of Christ, you and I have become the actors on the stage at this point in history!

Twice in today’s readings, Jesus calls his followers “witnesses”. What does that mean? Who qualifies as a witness? First, a witness is someone who experiences something important. Second, a witness is someone who tells others what she or he has seen and heard. In a courtroom, this is called a “testimony”. Sound familiar? It should.

As followers of Christ, you and I are witnesses to the things he has done. In the Scriptures, we already have the testimony of Jesus’ earliest followers, who knew him in the flesh. Two thousand years later, you and I haven’t had that opportunity. We know Jesus by faith, not by sight. Does that disqualify us from being witnesses? I don’t think so.

I believe that you and I can find our testimony as witnesses by paying attention to what Jesus has done (and is doing) in our lives. We can tell others what Jesus means to us. For some of us, our testimony might look like a dramatic conversion story. Maybe you have been “saved” from a life of self-destruction in a sudden way. If so, I encourage you to tell that story sometime. You never know when someone else might need to hear exactly what you have to say in order to make it through a crisis in their own life!

Those of us who haven’t had a dramatic conversion experience (including myself) still have a testimony to give. Many of us have experienced spiritual growth slowly over a long period of time. We may have had moments of sensing God’s presence with us in subtle ways. Gradually, we have learned (and are still learning) to trust that loving presence in our lives. If that’s you, I encourage you to tell your story as well. It might not be as dull as you think. Keep track of those little moments with God. Write them down. Like spare change in your couch cushions, they add up quickly!

Finally, some of you might be sitting there this morning and thinking, “I haven’t had any conscious experience of God in my life! What’s my testimony? How can I be a witness?” Well, there’s no time like the present to start looking for an answer to that question. If you want to have a deeper sense of God’s presence and activity in your life, you should ask for it in prayer. God has a tendency to answer that kind of honest prayer, provided that we keep an open mind for the unexpected ways in which God’s answer might come. If you would like to try an exercise in awareness, I suggest writing your life story in as much detail as you like. Then read back over it at a later date, asking God to show you where and how God was present in the events of your life. You might be surprised at what pops into your head as you begin to see old events in new ways!

You might not feel that your story is all that important, but I assure you: it is. As witnesses, our testimonies are the means through which God intends to spread Good News and transform the face of this earth. Jesus left this planet because he wanted to involve each one of us in the work of redeeming it. By telling your story about what Jesus means to you, you are allowing God to keep the Gospel alive in you.

So, go forth from this place today in the power of the Holy Spirit, as witnesses of our Savior Jesus Christ. Go to the very ends of the earth and testify to what you have seen and heard. Tell the world what Jesus means to you and watch the story continue for another generation. Amen.

Stackhouse Interview

On May 14, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Here is a link to an interview with Dr. John Stackhouse, one of my former professors at Regent College.

A unique voice among evangelicals, Stackhouse’s commitment to the ideological via media in religious public discourse is simultaneously challenging and encouraging.

The video is broken into several small clips on YouTube.

You can also follow Stackhouse’s blog by clicking on the link in my blogroll.

Serenity & Courage

On May 13, 2010May 13, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn Bible study reflectionLeave a comment

Last week’s Bible Study at St. James Mission was on John 14:23-29, which can be read by clicking here. Our discussion on the passage ended up following the contours of the Serenity Prayer, which we use in our weekly liturgy at the end of the Prayers of the People.

Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you… Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” This reminds one of the first line of the prayer where one asks for “the serenity to accept the things I cannot change”. Many things conspire to rob us of our serenity. Various stressors and crises impact our lives on a daily basis. In time, our souls begin to feel like the surface of the moon: pock-marked with craters, holes, and scars from the relentless beating of the cosmos.

Living in peace is a hard thing to do. The state of anarchy we witness on an international scale is a constant reminder of that fact. However, one need not look as far as the headlines to see the difficulty of living in peace, but only to the constant drama one finds in families, neighborhoods, workplaces, and schools. As Rodney King once said, “Why can’t we all just get along?”

Just as destructive is the internal violence people do to themselves every time they look in a mirror:

“I’m not smart enough.”
“I’m not good enough.”
“I’m not pretty enough.”

Each one of us is our own worst critic. Multi-billion dollar industries are built on the backs of people who are unable to accept themselves. I believe that Christ, with his gift of peace, intends to liberate us from all forms of violence: international, interpersonal, and internal.

Embracing Christ’s blessing of peace does not constitute a quietistic escape from the harshness of reality. It empowers us to face reality with renewed conviction and vigor. The second line of the Serenity Prayer asks for the “courage to change the things I can.”

We can hold onto our serenity while acting courageously. Our faith can give us the strength to stand up against evil and injustice in this world because we are certain of victory. Christ has conquered sin and death, therefore any expression thereof is limited and temporary. The darkness can oppose the light, but cannot overcome it.

Living as people of peace changes how we act, not whether we act. We see the same facts as activists and analysts, but we see them differently. Faith is the yeast that leavens the bread of action. To borrow a phrase from a famous prayer, “Where there is hatred,” we are able to “sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.”

I am reminded of the mug-shots of the Freedom Riders from the 1960s. Many are scared but smiling. Their faces radiate with serenity and courage. They are among the most beautiful images I have ever seen.

I invite you to examine your self, community, and country for the changes that need to be made. I invite you to face those challenges with courage and serenity, believing in the certain victory of Christ’s peace over all forms of injustice and violence. Your action is only one small part of God’s greater action, and that action cannot fail.

Russell & Mary Jorgensen

Helen Singleton

Reformed and Feminist

On May 5, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn Book ReviewLeave a comment

Johanna W. H. van Wijk-Bos. Reformed and Feminist: A Challenge to the Church (W/JKP: 1991).

Johanna W. H. van Wijk-Bos’ Reformed and Feminist: A Challenge to the Church is a semi-autobiographical introduction to feminist thought viewed through the lens of Protestant biblical scholarship. Wijk-Bos argues that the study of the Judeo-Christian scriptures has something valuable to add to the process of women’s liberation and that the time has come for Christian churches to assist in the radical reform of patriarchal institutions.

In the first chapter, Wijk-Bos shares a considerable amount of detail from her own life-story in order to establish herself within her own context as a Dutch, reformed, and feminist woman working as a pastor and biblical scholar in the U.S. The second chapter explores the concept of biblical authority as it emerged during the Protestant Reformation. Wijk-Bos pays special attention to the particular developments of Calvinism in continental Europe during the 16^th century. In the next chapter, the author examines some of the particular hermeneutical issues that arise when one explores the biblical text from a feminist perspective. Chapter four applies feminist hermeneutics to three particular texts from the Hebrew scriptures: the story of Jael (Judges 4:17-22), the story of the prophet’s widow (II Kings 4:1-7), and the story of Esther. In the final chapter, Wijk-Bos issues a missional call for the Christian churches to address the heretofore ignored presence of women in the biblical texts, in our worshiping communities, and in society at large. Wijk-Bos uses the story of Ruth as a biblical example of women working together for their mutual liberation (and that of society at large) from the bonds of patriarchy.

In this short book, Wijk-Bos offers an engaging and concise introduction to Christian feminist thought that is perfect for neophytes such as myself. Her narrative tone helps the arguments impact the reader in a fresh way. The autobiographical and biblical texts provide a mutual context for one another that helps the reader see old passages in a new way. This book had my attention from beginning to end. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, I felt my heart burning within me as I read. Wijk-Bos has simultaneously accomplished two very difficult tasks. First, she has sparked my interest in feminist thought and has re-presented obscure biblical texts in a fresh and relevant way. I highly recommend this book to feminists who wonder whether the Bible has any good news to offer women. I also recommend it to Christians who are frustrated with their Bible and want to view it with a fresh pair of eyes.

The book can be purchased on Amazon.com by clicking here.

Love is our Resistance

On May 1, 2010May 2, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

There are moments in a pastor’s life… well, there are moments.

I must admit that I have trouble lending eloquent and poetic words to the experience of sitting with parents who have just lost a child. Can any other event make you feel like the universe has gone so completely ass-backwards?

After receiving that phone call, I got into my car and drove to work at Utica College, where I lectured today on Albert Camus and the absurdity of existence. Camus had the idea that life is meaningless, and that human beings regain their dignity by defiantly shaking their fist at the empty sky and continuing to live honorable and courageous lives in spite of life’s meaninglessness.

As a Christian, I share Camus’ defiant spirit, but not his faith in absurdity. I choose to see this universe as meaningful because I believe it is founded and centered upon love. Camus and others would have me believe that love, in reality, consists of an electro-chemical reaction in my brain that has been conditioned into a herd-instinct by eons of evolution.

I believe that love originates in the heart of the Trinity, which exists at the center of reality. The universe and all who dwell in it are but ripples and refractions of that love, hovering over the waters of chaos and piercing the darkness saying, “Let there be light.”

Love is defiant in the face of death and chaos. It mourns with friends and marches on picket lines. Love moves over to make room for the stranger on the bus and in society. The act of love is a rebellion.

Whenever we tap into love through seemingly insignificant acts of human compassion, we unleash that power which forms the fundamental building blocks of all creation, dwarfing even the power of the atom.

Like Camus, I shake my fist at the universe, not because it is meaningless, but because it is meaningful. I will continue to love as best I can, because I choose to trust its power beyond that of the bullet, the ballot, or the dollar. I choose to believe that our small acts of love in the face of death have the power to transcend death because they are rooted in the Source of all life.

“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.” -Song of Solomon 8:6-7

The Rest of the Passion: A Midrash

On April 20, 2010April 20, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn fictionLeave a comment

This is a Midrash on the Passion narrative by my good friend Billy Magee, a casino dealer and gambling addiction counselor.

Recent discoveries unearthed during renovations at Vatican City shed new light on the Passion of the Christ and the events leading up to Palm Sunday, the Last Supper, and Good Friday.

According to ancient Aramaic scripts, the events of the Gospels must be re-interpreted in a new light. When Christ arrived at Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the real purpose of the visit was to gamble with the Pharisees in the Temple of Herod. Unknown before the discovery of the aforementioned ancient text, a casino called Solomon’s Mine Casino was located in a secret part of the temple. Games of chance, played by the Pharisees, other Buffalo Hunters, and their Goombadies, took place 24/7. These games of chance were overseen by the Solomon’s Mine Gaming Commission (SMGC).

An unknown character, never mentioned in earlier gospels, played an integral part in setting up the game played between Christ and the Pharisees. This individual, Brunosius Bombatsi, was well-known to the twelve disciples, most of whom were fishermen. Prior to his move to Jerusalem, Brunosius got his start as the head of the Fish Mongers Local out of Galilee, the predecessor of the future Longshoremen’s Union. He did so well, that eventually he had all the Fish Mongers locked up from the Sea of Galilee, down the entire River Jordan, to the Dead Sea.

Brunosius had made earlier arrangements with Christ. The signal they agreed on was this: if a non-ridden ass was in place outside of town, then the game was on! History tells us the ass was there, and Christ knew all along (after all, he was Jesus Christ and he could foresee things like that.

After the pomp and ceremony of his entrance into the city had concluded, Christ and Brunosius covertly entered the temple and were escorted by SMGC to Solomon’s Mine Casino. This was centuries before cards were invented, so the game of choice was the dreidel.

Brunosius, who had connections with the SMGC, made special arrangements so that this four-sided gaming device had a lamb as one of its choices, rather than the traditional four-letter configuration which was standard at the time (and remains prevalent to this day). The Buffalo Hunters and Pharisees had a meeting to agree upon this alteration of the Dreidel at Brunosius’ request and the game was set.

Christ arrived at the gaming table with Brunosius and the table limit was discussed. The Buffalo Hunters wanted a 2,000 shekel table max, big stakes in those days, but Christ wanted a no-limit game (after all, the sky is the limit in his eyes). After much winging, whining, and gnashing of teeth by the Pharisees and Buffalo Hunters, it was finally agreed upon that the game was no-limit (unheard of in those days).

The Buffalo Hunters’ only concern was that this Christ character had only a pair of sandals and a robe. Besides, he showed up on a borrowed ass. Who was going to front the money? Brunosius, who was good friends with Marius Strobolini (the Pharisees’ credit host), used his open credit line to back Christ with 100,000 shekels. The game started.

Christ kept spinning lambs and the Buffalo Hunters were perplexed. At one point, they had the gaming commission use a micrometer on the dreidel to make sure it was on the square.

“Come on,” said one Buffalo Hunter, “Does this guy walk on water? It’s a 4 to 1 shot. He’s got to lose sooner or later.”

Christ never lost, and after the smoke cleared, he had beaten them out of 900,000 shekels (a tidy sum in those days). To add insult to injury, Brunosius had Marius comp Christ full room, food, and beverage for twelve at a private dinner house called The Upper Room on Thursday night.

The Buffalo Hunters called for a rematch.

“I ain’t gonna be around for it,” Christ replied, “I have to see a man about a cross in a few days. I have souls to save and places to go, but thanks for the action.”

The Pharisees were incensed, livid, and wanted revenge. One of them named Mordecei said, “I got the answer.” He knew a guy named Judas who got carved up pretty good casting lots with the Sardinian Centurions (“They stuck him like a pig!”). To make a long story short, Judas had to get a loan from a shylock called Akim from the West Bank in order to square with the Sardinians before they broke his legs. “He needs the cash,” said Mordecei, “Besides, his name is Judas, for Christ’s sake! He would sell out the Messiah himself for 30 pieces of silver, given half a chance.” So Mordecei and the two other Pharisees, Yehuda and Yoshi, all duked in a sawbuck and the deal was set. Judas flipped Christ and the rest is history.

After wining and dining at The Upper Room, which later became known as The Last Supper, a few of the disciples went to the Mount of Olives for some fresh air. While they were dozing and sleeping off their lavish meal, Christ quietly woke Simon Peter and gave him the winnings from the game. He told Peter in strict confidence that was to proceed to Rome, preach the Good News, and build a church upon a rock. The winnings were to be used as seed money for the future church.

Love Covers a Multitude of Sins

On April 18, 2010April 18, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn Sermon2 Comments

This is the sermon I preached this morning at First Presbyterian Church, Boonville, NY. The text is John 21:1-19.

Parents, in my experience, have a way of knowing us better than we know ourselves. I know this because I am a parent and, even though she’s only sixteen months old, I can already pick up on distinct aspects of my daughter’s personality emerging. I also know this because I have parents and, much to my chagrin, they have often been able to finish my sentences, predict my next move, and see a part of my personality that I thought I had hidden well.

I felt particularly cornered one day when my mother aptly pointed out that I suffer from an “over-active conscience”. Little things, small errors in judgment that most people would be able to let go, bothered me to the point of needing to confess to someone. On one such occasion, my father interrupted my tirade of self-loathing to give me one bit of advice. “Son,” he said, “go easy on yourself.” To this day, that’s some of the best advice I’ve ever received.

I am hardly the first person in history to wrestle with such a compulsion. Psychologists have identified a form of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder called “Scrupulosity”, which manifests itself as an unhealthy fixation on one’s own sinfulness. Historical scholars suspect that both Martin Luther, the pioneer of the Protestant Reformation, and John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist churches, might have suffered from this ailment.

These “scrupulous” tendencies in myself, combined with a church environment that condoned such an inclination, brought me to the point where I disqualified myself from serving as a minister in the church. Even as I graduated college and started seminary, people would ask me, “Are you planning to pursue a career in ordained ministry?” I would respond, “People like me aren’t allowed to become pastors.”

Because of this experience, I think I have a pretty good idea of how the apostle Peter felt at the beginning of today’s Gospel reading. This story comes to us from the end of John’s gospel, after Jesus has been raised from the dead. We read that Peter was certainly present for the events which took place around Easter Sunday, but the last time he played a major role in the plot of this story was on the night when Jesus was arrested. Earlier that evening, Peter had expressed his unwavering loyalty to Jesus in no uncertain terms. By the next morning, Peter had publicly denied that even knew Jesus. He did this, not once, but three times.

This was no minor misstep for Peter. In doing this, we know that he turned his back on his faith; he rejected everything he had come to believe about God through Jesus. But more than that, Peter had also turned his back on his closest friend at a critical moment. According to ancient near-eastern custom, Peter’s infidelity had violated Jesus’ honor. Jesus would be expected to demand vindication for such an offense. Perhaps Peter thought of those words which Jesus had spoken earlier, “Those who are ashamed of me and my words, of them the Son of Man will be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of his Father and of the holy angels.”

So Peter was probably not all that surprised when at Jesus’ first appearance after the resurrection, his friend did not address him directly. I can imagine Peter, in his crushing guilt, believing that his denial had purchased his exclusion from the ranks of apostles. He had been reduced from the role of leader to that of spectator. When Jesus commissioned his apostles, saying, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” I can see Peter, sitting in a far corner of the room, relieved to see Jesus, excited for his friends, but also sad for himself. I can even imagine Peter saying the same thing I did, “People like me aren’t allowed to become pastors.”

After the events of Easter, Peter has to decide how to get on with the rest of his life. It made perfect sense for him to return to fishing, the only life he knew before Jesus. I find it interesting that six other disciples accompanied Peter in his return to the maritime business. I like to imagine that they went along as Peter’s social support system. Maybe they were hoping to shake Peter out of his paralyzing guilt so that he would come and join them as they sought to preach the Good News about Jesus to the ends of the earth.

Peter, hoping he could forget the past (or at least put it behind him), was finding his old job to be a hollow pursuit on multiple levels. We read that his nets kept coming up empty. I think this is a comment about something more than the fishing conditions at the Sea of Tiberias. I think we, as the readers of this story, are getting a glimpse inside Peter’s soul at that moment. The fisherman’s life to which he was returning seemed empty and meaningless after his experience of traveling with Jesus. I also imagine that it must have been hard for Peter to work those same shores, remembering the day he met Jesus on that very spot, when Jesus used his boat as an impromptu pulpit.

In this sad moment, the risen Christ makes a sudden reappearance. Jesus encounters Peter in the midst of his daily routine and brings two gifts. First, he brings Abundance. Like the symbol of emptiness, this miraculous catch is a sign to Peter that he is about to find that which he was really seeking (and here’s a hint: it isn’t fish).

As they are gathering the nets, one of the disciples, the one “whom Jesus loved” (identified as John by most biblical scholars), turns to Peter in realization that this catch was no ordinary coincidence. “It is the Lord!” he says. In this moment, John is acting like a true pastor by pointing out God’s presence and activity in Peter’s life. This, by the way, is how I spend most of my time on the street as a Community Chaplain. I’m not a street preacher, I’m a street pastor. It’s my job to walk with people through the triumphs and struggles of daily life and help them see how God is at work there.

Peter responds to this observation immediately. But we read that he does something quite unusual: he puts his coat on just before hopping into the water. I don’t know about you, but I find it’s much easier to swim without being fully clothed. But, like the nets, I take this to be a statement about Peter’s internal state-of-being. He doesn’t want to feel so exposed in front of the one he has let down. Like Adam in the Garden of Eden, Peter wants to cover himself because he feels ashamed. Too often these days (even in the church), God’s children fall victim to this mentality. They assume there is something about themselves that is unacceptable, so they duck and cover. Hiding in the closet, they wear the mask constructed for them by society’s expectations. But, as we will see in a moment with Peter, Jesus has this uncanny ability to pierce the veil of our shame with his love.

Which leads me to Jesus’ second gift:

Jesus appears bearing the gift of Acceptance. When Peter and the disciples finally make it to shore, they find breakfast waiting for them. This is evocative of Jesus’ meal-sharing ministry, which got him in even more trouble than his teaching and healing. You’ve heard me describe before what a powerful statement it was to share a meal with someone in the ancient near-east. Eating with someone signified one’s total acceptance of the other person into the family unit. By feeding the multitudes and dining with outcasts, Jesus makes a statement about the scope of his radically inclusive love. In this passage, that love is extended to the disciples, even Peter. By eating first, Jesus is effectively saying that he has rejected Peter’s rejection of him.

Once breakfast is over, Peter is finally ready to come face-to-face with Jesus and talk about the painful events of that night. Jesus uses his words like a surgeon’s scalpel: cutting ever deeper, exposing the source of the pain in order to heal it. It is not an easy soul-surgery for Peter to endure. Jesus asks Peter three times whether Peter loves him. One time for each denial. Each time, Peter affirms that he does love him and Jesus replies, “Feed my sheep.”

Instead of enacting vengeance upon Peter, Jesus asks him to take care of that which is most precious to him: this new community of believers. In verse 16, Jesus uses the term “Shepherd”, which is “Poimaine” in Greek, and will later be translated into a Latin term that is very familiar to us: “Pastor”. Jesus doesn’t punish Peter, he ordains him!

Jesus says to Peter, in effect, “Do you really love me, Peter? If so, then I want you to take that love and give it to these people who need it the most right now.” Peter now stands before Jesus as a healed and restored person. The shameful hurt of denial has been replaced by the warm embrace of love.

History tells us that Peter did, in fact, take up this call. Peter stands out as one of the great pastors in the early days of the Christian Church. We have stories and letters in the New Testament that bear witness to this fact. I think Peter walked away from that meeting with a newfound faith in the power of love to set things right. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Peter had this encounter in mind when he wrote to a group of churches years later, saying to them, “Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins.”

I went to seminary declaring, “People like me aren’t allowed to become pastors.” I said it as a joke, but my sarcasm was a thin veil covering my deep sense of shame and unworthiness. But it happened that as I heard Jesus’ words to Peter, “Feed my sheep”, I began to notice a new desire rising up within me. I realized that I wanted to feed Christ’s people with his Word and Sacraments. Following this desire has led me out into the streets, where many of Christ’s lost sheep stand desperately in need of love. I am being transformed by that love, even as I try to give it out. My ministry in the neighborhoods of inner-city Utica has only increased my faith in the radically inclusive love of God. I believe Jesus is teaching me to read my Bible with a new set of eyes as I read it with drug addicts, prostitutes, and homeless people. I no longer see it as a book of rules and doctrines, but as a library of stories, poems, and letters, documenting a millennia-long romance between God and God’s people. Like Peter, I find myself being transformed by the warm embrace of a love (God’s love) that covers a multitude of sins (my sins).

I don’t know where you are this morning, in relation to this powerful, transforming love of Christ. Maybe you feel like there is something inside of you that you have to hide from the world? Maybe you feel like you’ve committed some unforgivable sin and Jesus has finally turned his back on you? Maybe you feel the crushing burden of doubt or guilt? If that’s you this morning, I want to encourage you with this Gospel passage. Jesus is coming into your life now with his gifts of abundance and acceptance. He is not coming to punish you, but to heal you and, finally, to commission you into his service.

Maybe you’re here today and you’ve already experienced that healing love of Christ firsthand? If that’s you, then I want to encourage you to take it with you into the world. There are many of our sisters and brothers who are still bound by chains of guilt, fear, and despair. Jesus is calling you this morning to follow him into those dark corners of the world, bringing with you the light and the warmth of his love. One need not be a pastor in order to feed Christ’s hungry sheep. Each of us, regardless of age or occupation, has a call to ministry. Likewise, one need not go to Palestine or the inner-city. There are hurting people who stand in desperate need of love in your own family, neighborhood, and community. Your co-workers, clients, and supervisors need it. If you are still in school, look for that fellow student in the cafeteria or playground who always eats or plays alone. If you are retired, look among your friends and neighbors. None of us has outlived God’s call on our lives. For as long as there is still air in your lungs, God still has plans for your life.

Jesus has a lot of love to give and the hurting people of this world desperately need it. Let’s learn to accept that love for ourselves and then pass it on. Come on people, let’s feed some sheep.

Let us pray.

Eternal and Holy One, your love, poured out in the life, death, and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord, has covered the multitude of our sins: Grant us vision to see your love more clearly in our own lives, that we might pass it on to those hungry sheep who you have entrusted to our care; through the same Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Recognizing the Time of Visitation

On April 5, 2010April 6, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn Community ChaplaincyLeave a comment

Easter began with an explosion of beautiful, spring weather in central New York. I can understand how someone might want to come back from the dead for this. Needless to say, these meteorological phenomena have me itching to spend more time with my friends on the street.

As always, our ministry at St. James Mission is bizarre enough to evade all attempts at codification and programming. The streets have become my school of the Spirit as I try to listen for what God is doing in the marginal spaces of our community.

As always, God is doing some strange and funny new things.

As I was going to bed on Palm Sunday, I had one of those moments where the Holy Spirit walks up and smacks you in the face with a sack full of reality. The gospel text from the Daily Lectionary was Luke 19:41-48. Jesus stood weeping over the city of Jerusalem, prophesying that they would be crushed by enemies “because [they] did not recognize the time of [their] visitation from God.”

Even though this sounds pretty harsh (and it is), it got me thinking about the “unrecognized” ways that God might be “visiting” me. I prayed that my eyes would be opened so that I might “recognize on this day the things that make for shalom“, as Jesus said.

Immediately, I thought of this one guy who has been annoying me for months. Somehow, he obtained my home phone number and would call several times a day to talk my ear off about nothing-in-particular for as long as I would let him. It had reached the point that I would groan anytime his number came up on Caller ID. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even pick up the phone. How hypocritical of me to prattle on like I do about solidarity with the poor and relational ministry while simultaneously refusing to engage with the one guy from the street who wants nothing more than to establish a relationship!

Even though this guy has no interest in coming to church (he says it cuts into his “prime beer-drinking time”), he goes out of his way to introduce me to his friends who could use a pastor. Even though he doesn’t like to talk about God or spirituality, he listens intently whenever his schizophrenic roommate corners me with this week’s pressing questions regarding theological minutiae. Even though he doesn’t approve of the fact that I hang around with “scumbags”, he took me to a crack house to meet his friend who needed help getting a cat neutered.

When his dog Teddy underwent a serious medical procedure last month, he asked me to lay hands on the dog and pray for healing.

I was invited to a barbeque at his house on Good Friday. I got to meet his neo-Nazi friend, who has swastika tattoos on his arms. We shared pictures of our kids, who are about the same age.

This guy is one of those relational magnets who turns his home into a house of hospitality for the very “scumbags” he claims to despise. He claims no interest in God, yet asks his friend the priest to stop by as much as I can during the week. When I do, he feeds me chicken wings and cheeseburgers.

It’s amazing just how much my perspective on this relationship has changed during Holy Week. The Holy Spirit has opened my eyes to see this same relationship in a new light. As I continue to build relationships on the street this year, I have a sense that this guy will be one of those nexus points where God chooses to gather people. It makes me think of Levi the tax collector. His house was full of friends when Jesus showed up to party. This guy’s house is the same.

Whenever I’m on the street now, I make sure to stop by his house. When the phone rings and I see that it’s his number, I’m glad to pick up. In fact, he just called as I was writing this post…

“Recognize on this day the things that make for shalom.”

“Recognize the time of your visitation from God.”

Faith in Doubt

On March 29, 2010March 29, 2010 By J. Barrett LeeIn Bible study reflection4 Comments

One of my favorite things about our crew at St. James Mission is the theological diversity among those present and the willingness they all have to explore the tough questions of faith and reality.

This week’s Bible study happened to fall on March 25th, which is the Feast of the Annunciation. It comes every year, exactly nine months before Christmas. (I guess that means Jesus wasn’t a premie!)

We reflected on Luke 1:26-38, which can be read by clicking here.

What the people of our community noticed most was Mary’s faith in accepting the angel’s invitation. Some people remarked that they long for that kind of faith. They want to respond to God in that same kind of instinctual and immediate way.

The next logical question to explore has to do with the definition of faith itself. What does it mean to “believe in God”? One woman was honest (and brave) enough to admit that she had trouble accepting the idea that Jesus was literally born of a virgin (i.e. without a biological father contributing his portion of the DNA), but that she too wanted to share in Mary’s faith. This is a bold thing to say in the middle of worship. I was elated to hear someone speak so openly about doubt. What’s even better is that I believe this person, in her honest doubt, was able to draw out certain truths from this text that would have otherwise remained unspoken. Truthfully, I think this text readily lends itself to a definition of faith that transcends an acceptance of certain facts and cuts deep into our souls.

If faith is simply a matter of acknowledging established church doctrine, then Mary herself fails the test immediately. We read that she too was ‘perplexed’ and we see that she began by questioning the angel’s proclamation: “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” If doubt truly is the opposite of faith, then it’s helpful to know that we who doubt stand with the Blessed Virgin herself in the company of the faithless.

However, I believe that true faith is something that encompasses doubt and welcomes it as a partner in the journey. Mary is unafraid to show her cognitive noncompliance with the royal decree of heaven. Even in the presence of an angel, she has the cojones to shake her fist at the sky. And the ironic thing is that her challenge of the divine edict did not disqualify her from participating in God’s plan, but confirmed her place in it.

Deep in Mary’s heart, with all its doubt and perplexity, there lived (and still lives, I think) a profound openness toward God. Her open-mindedness prepared her to accept that truth which reaches beyond mere fact. It is in the incarnation of that mystery that she takes up her calling as the Theotokos, the God-bearer.

If we say that we too want to share in the faith of Mary, I think it is her openness toward God, not the mere acceptance of church doctrine, that we should pray for.