Christ the King - Safety Pins and the Cross

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and the Spirit who dwells among us. 

Over the past couple of weeks a bit of a movement started. It’s one in which people pin a safety pin to their shirt the way they might pin a broach or a tie tack. The idea is that in wearing a pin you are announcing that you are a safe person to those who feel unsafe. People who feel unsafe because they’ve been bullied. Maybe because of their sexual orientation, or their race, or their country of origin - or what other perceive to be their country of origin, of for other reasons people feel unsafe. 

So from a place of good will, people having taken to wear or to having as their online icon a safety pin.  

And then, understandably, it was pointed out that while it’s a lovely idea, for those who are frequently facing bullying and discrimination, a pin on its own will not assure a vulnerable person that you are safe. What will assure a person that you are safe is because you act safe. That you act with kindness, that when you see someone being harassed, you step in and stand up, saying the behavior is not acceptable. 

Which is a super good point. It’s a shift from understanding the safety pin as something you wear that others have to respond or you wear it as a reminder of how you choose to be that day – a challenge to yourself to BE the safe person you want the world to have. 

Pretty quickly I began to see parallels in my mind between wearing a safety pin and wearing a cross. 

It got me asking myself, “Why do we as Christians wear a cross?” 

Traditionally I’d say we wear a cross to as a way of identifying ourselves as Christians – to each other and to the world. The cross you wear announces “This is a follower of Christ.” 

Perhaps in the very earliest years of the Christian church it was discreet way of recognizing one of your own when out in public, when being a Christian wasn’t considered acceptable. 

Perhaps in those early years it was an act of bravery. Before Constantine made Christianity the religion of the land, to wear a cross was to risk being outed as someone who didn’t kneel to the Emperor – and might be jailed for it. 

But as time has done on, wearing a cross, at least in our country, has lost any element of danger. For a while in the 90s I remember when wearing a cross, particularly really oversized crosses, was a fashion statement, completely separate from being a faith statement. 

If you chose, you can wear a cross as a necklace or a pin. You can openly identify as a Christian and you know what that means for you.

“So what does it mean to wear a cross in the light of Christ the King Sunday?” 

On a Sunday like today we are reminded that our Christ is one who forgives – even forgiving those who are literally killing him. 

We are reminded that our Christ is one who is willing to die for our sins so that we may have life. 

We are reminded that our Christ is one who includes even criminals in his kingdom.

Our Christ, whose death and resurrection we remember by the empty cross we wear.

But what do others experience when they see the cross we wear? 

For some, it is reassuring. It represents people who build hospitals and provide care to all who enter. It represents schools were all are educated. It represents food, water, shelter, and emotional care in the wake of natural disasters.

But for others, seeing a cross is less than reassuring. It is a sign of violence. Crosses have been burned in the yards of people of color as a threat that they will be burned next if they stay and continue to expect to be treated as equal human beings. People wearing crosses are the ones who picket funerals, blaming everything from natural disasters to wars. If they thought they could get traction, they’d blame speed limits and gas prices on gay, lesbian, and transgender people. People wearing crosses are vocal about limiting rights of those who are not Christians in the way they are. 

For many, the Christian cross creates anxiety. 

We live in a time where we can’t simply wear a cross and assume that those who see it will see us as safe people, as forgiving people, as grace filled people, as inclusive people. To people who have been harmed by other Christians, we can’t say, “We’re different, trust us!”

What we can do is to see that cross we wear as more than an announcement of our faith, a claim of our bona fides. 

Like with the safety pins, wearing it is not enough, we are called to live into it. What if when you wear a cross you do so with a remembrance of your baptism promise – to work for peace and justice in all the world – every day. To be kind to all, remembering that there’s likely struggles in their lives that you know nothing about. To step in and step up when you see others being hurt and harassed. 

Last but not least, when you see the cross, when you wear a cross, be reminded that YOU are claimed by Christ. In an uncertain world, this cross is a reminder of your king – a king who loves every last person in his kingdom, including and most especially you. May that cross be your constant reminder that YOU are madly and thoroughly loved by your God.    

Amen, amen. Thanks be to God.

Who is the Master of the House?

This Sunday's text is John 2:13-22. Which means I can't help but think about money and its role in a life of faith. This passage, with Jesus' righteous anger has a tendency to make us think that money equals bad. Haven't we heard Jesus also say:

         No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other,
         or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. ~ Matt 6:24

It's easy to again hear that money equals bad, but that isn't the case. The question needs to be asked, "Is money the master or is God? Which one is primary in our lives?"

In the musical, Les Miserables, we have the over-the-top number, Master of the House. (There's some rather bawdy portions, so keep that in mind while watching, though the film did stay within a PG13 rating.)

When money for money's sake is the goal, things get ugly quickly. People are taken advantage of. Their weaknesses and vulnerabilities are exploited. Lying, cheating, stealing, etc., are all okay for the sake of the greater "good" - money.

To a certain degree, something similar is going on in the courtyard of the Temple. When the people of Israel came to the Temple, they intended to sacrifice an animal - which had to be without blemish. If they lived far from Jerusalem, it wasn't practical to bring an animal on the long trek. It made more sense to purchase one in Jerusalem. Also, one couldn't use money with "graven images" on it within the temple.*

So there were currency exchangers available. And they knew the people had to use their service, so they could charge a steep fee for providing the exchange. There were people with unblemished animals, who again knew people had to use their service, so they charged a steep fee. In The Message, Peterson uses the term "loan shark" to get the idea of their personality across.

I don't believe that Jesus opposed the fact they were making a living, but there is a difference between making a living and gouging those who have no other option. In Luke 20:25, Jesus says that when it comes to taxes, “Then give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

We also have the story of his meeting with Zacchaeus and asking this tax collector if he could share a meal with him. Jesus never tells Zacchaeus that he needs to stop being a tax collector. And Zacchaeus makes a promise to be fair and just in his work.

But in this setting of the Temple, those who change money and those who sell animals appear to be taking advantage of those who are coming to worship. They are neither loving the Lord their God with all their heart, mind, and soul, nor loving their neighbor as themselves. The opportunity of money comes before God and neighbor. For them, Money is indeed the Master of the House.

But Jesus reminds us - with passion - that God is the Master of the House. Not just the Temple of his day, but all houses of worship. Not just houses of worship, but the entire world. When we keep focused on the fact that God is the Master of the House, then it is easier for money to be in its proper perspective.

Money, be it straight up cash, items of value, or other, is a gift from God. We are entrusted with its good and proper use. The vocation we each have is a gift from God, entrusted to us for good and proper use. Each day we are called to ask, "Are the ways I earn money and the ways I spend money in tune with loving my God and loving my neighbor or am I making my Father's house a marketplace?"



* The Gospel and Letters of John, R. Alan Culpepper, Abingdon Press, 1998.

If Pentecost were a Musical

As someone who loves to sing (and pretend to dance), I've often thought life would be a lot more interesting if it were a musical where we broke out in song and dance to express ourselves. However, this rarely occurs (unless you stumble across a 'flashmob' that's just happens to be the cast of the Godspell revival).

But the lack of musical moments in real life hasn't stopped me from making mental connections between lectionary texts and musical tunes or other bits of popular culture.

Pentecost is this Sunday (time to put on your red everyone). The biggie text is Acts 2:1-21. Suddenly with the Spirit upon them, everyone starts speaking in the variety of languages used by the Jews from far away places who were visiting Jerusalem. Imagine the crazy cacophony.

Imagine the releasing, the freeing that the Spirit is doing among the disciples. This is the turning point from them being huddled up, turned in upon themselves, and uncertain what to do, to being freed to share God's story with the world. Visions, dreams, prophesy - freed from fear and "ought tos" to imagine a whole new future where a Messiah is crucified for the sake of the world. 

Unsurprisingly some of them suggested, "They are filled with new wine." (Translation: They are drunk.)

Peter reassures folks that they aren't drunk (at least not drunk on wine maybe on the Holy Spirit). However the musical number that came to mind when I think of the joyful freedom does have someone who is a bit drunk. (She misunderstood the ratio of Bacardi to Milk in a Dolce de Leche.) When asked how she feels, she shares a whole variety of joy filled imagines, starting with "If I were a bell, I'd be ringing."

So how do you express the Spirit freed joy within you? How do you ring and swing?

Was Peter really fishing naked?

This past Sunday our Gospel text was John 21:1-19. In the middle of a lot of interesting theological stuff, there's a rather distracting line: "When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea." (New Revised Standard Version

Afterward a fairly brave parishioner asked, "Was he really naked?"

Good question, as I can't imagine it helpful to risk one's bait & tackle among the bait and tackle. Or in this case, gaffs & nets.

Sometimes looking to other translations and how they phrased things can be helpful: 

• "He wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water." ~New International Version
• "When Simon heard that it was the Lord, he put on the clothes that he had taken off while he was working. Then he jumped into the water." ~Contemporary English Bible
• "When Simon Peter realized that it was the Master, he threw on some clothes, for he was stripped for work, and dove into the sea." ~The Message, a paraphrase

They all provide the general sense that Peter wasn't wearing much and then pulled on some garment before jumping into the water. It's not that these translations are trying to be more discrete than the NRSV in describing Peter's state of dress (or lack there of). It's not that the NRSV got it wrong. It's the fact that translating involves making choices and trying to provide clarity. 

Raymond Brown, who wrote The Anchor Bible commentary on this section of John, circa 1970 (hey, it's what's at hand), provides some helpful information. He shares that the Greek word 'gymnos' can be translated as either 'naked' or 'lightly clad'. So it's probable, particularly given cultural custom as well as practicality, that Peter wasn't naked-naked, but wearing something akin to a loincloth.

Brown goes into a lengthy reflection on the oddness of Peter putting on clothes to then jump into the water. Perhaps like me, you remember being taught that water-soaked clothes are heavy and weigh one down. If one's boat/canoe/whatever tips over, it's best to shed those heavy clothes before swimming any distance.

The theories Brown reviewed boiled down to the idea that Peter had another garment on that would still qualify as 'lightly clad' and then he tucked up the garment, since the word "diazonnynai" can mean 'to put on clothes' as well as 'to tuck up into the cincture' (belt).

To have a better picture of what 'tucking up' means, imagine having on the long robe-like garments common to the time. If you took the hem of the backside of the garment, pulled it forward so it went around and over the front side, then tucked it into the belt, that would be 'tucking up'. It would keep the robe from tangling in one's legs. (Or at least this is my best guess for how tucking up would work.)
 
Personally, I think Peter's actions are meant to be odd and not due to the writer of John being less than clear. It's humorous that poor Peter is so frazzled that he puts on clothes before jumping in. Perhaps the main reason he was stripped down to the basics was to keep his clothes dry and free from the slime and smell of fish. So what does he do? Soaks his whole self in wet, fishy-smelling water because he can't wait an extra minute to greet Jesus. (That must of been a fun hug for Jesus!)

Peter's actions remind me of a story. One day Robert Redford entered a small town Montana ice cream shop. The woman who was already at the counter wanted to be respectful of Mr. Redford by not making a fuss, even though he made her twitterpatted. All was going well until she was given her ice cream cone and her change. She held onto her change and dropped her ice cream cone into her purse.

Like Peter, this fan of Redford's was so dazzled and distracted that she didn't even know what she's doing. Which is utterly adorbs to me.

So the next time you have the option of staying respectful or being a bit foolish for the sake of the Gospel, remember dripping wet Peter and go for it.