Building a Bucket List

Luke 12:13-21 and Colossians 3:1-11

If I actually had a bucket list, two items that would be sure to be on it would be taking a hot balloon ride, and going on an African safari – the kind where the only shooting that takes place comes from a camera.

So, when I came across this story, it really appealed to me.

A man named Danny and his wife took a hot air balloon trip early one morning while visiting Africa. Perfect!

As the balloon rose gracefully, they saw a herd of wildebeest running frantically across the vast expanse below. 

          As they watched, the herd suddenly stopped and began looking around as if they were confused. Danny asked their pilot why the herd had stopped so suddenly; what were they looking for?

          The pilot told them that the wildebeest, which migrate by the millions across the grassy African plains, are not good learners.  An entire herd will take flight at the slightest indication of danger. They run wildly for a short time, and then stop, forgetting why they began running in the first place.

          Meanwhile, lions, who are good learners, simply follow the stampeding herd at a leisurely pace and wait for them to stop. When the wildebeest forget why they are running, dinnertime arrives.

So I wonder, are we more like the wildebeest or the lion?

          Can you imagine running and running and running and then forgetting why you are running at all? 

          The truth is we all fall prey to this cycle at times, running here and there and back again, busy in our work or school, busy in our family, busy with our social and financial obligations, busy running to something, busy running away –  eventually overcome with our busy-ness, only to forget what it is we are running after to begin with, and why it was so important to us to be. So. busy.

This forgetting is more than the experience of walking into a room and failing to recall why we went there to begin with.

          Rather, in all our running and chasing after things that ultimately give way to confusion, we forget the things Christ has taught us about trusting in God, and about how we should live.

We forget the ways Jesus showed us about living in community, loving our neighbor, and forgiving those who have trespassed against us. We forget the priorities that God set before us – love me, love neighbor, love yourself.

We sometimes forget that caring for the outcast, the marginalized, and the sinner was at the top of the list of what Jesus taught us to do. Those were the things that were important to Jesus – connecting with, and caring for our neighbor. Sadly, when we forget this core instruction from God, our attention and focus naturally turns inward.

          The parable from our gospel today, shows us what happens when a rich man forgets that it is God who gives us all we need. We see what happens as he is consumed with running, running, running – amassing more than he can possibly use up himself, so that his “running” turns into building, building, building.

So, there is this telling conversation he has with himself, when he realizes that he has run out of storage space for his hoard.

The man thought to himself, “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops? I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’” 

It is all “I, I, I, I, I, and my, my, my…..” This is his focus and his mantra – it is all about me, myself, and I.

          The writer of our first reading, from Ecclesiastes, calls this ‘vanity’ –it is “meaningless,” “useless,” and “absurd.”

          In the parable we see the vanity of the rich man who is obsessed with what the epistle to the Colossians refers to as the “things that are on earth”. These are fleeting things that we have a tendency to place importance on—everything from material wealth, to status, to power over others – the writer of the Epistle names the pursuit of all these things idolatry.  

While it is sensible stewardship of the resources God gives us that we save and reasonably plan for our future material needs, a component of stewardship as Jesus teaches it, is to trust that we are given ample resources to share and to use for the betterment of others.

Knowing that God provides for our daily needs, we are freed to trust that God also provides enough for us to share.

This message is at the core of all the stewardship stories in the bible, from manna daily given to the people of God in the wilderness, to Jesus teaching the Lord’s Prayer, which comes just before this text.

God carefully and lovingly gives us all we need. It’s the same message our own stewardship team diligently establishes in their messages to our community throughout the year.

However, there is more to this text than a message for the stewardship of material goods, as important as that is. For if we look at the beginning of the passage, we will see that this entire story begins with someone asking Jesus to settle a property dispute within their family. So this is also a message for the stewardship of human relationships.

Maybe you’ve known or witnessed the pain and turmoil that families sometimes experience when huge battles erupt over the inheritance of property upon the death of a loved one, whether a will had been left or not. Bitter divides form over such arguments, and lifelong scars and estrangements often result. So we can understand someone coming to Jesus and wishing for him to speak with authority on this matter.

But note Jesus’ response; “Be on guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Instead, in Christ we have been granted abundant life to share both now and in a future we cannot yet see.

So, according to Jesus, greed includes not only those things that we yearn for that we do not have, but also those things we already possess but would do just about anything to keep.

Greed is indeed a deep pit into which we fall and cannot, on our own, climb out of.

The epistle lists so-called earthly things that we run after. I wonder what other things we can name? Living in a consumerist world, what are some of the earthly things that we chase after, long for, and amass for ourselves? I suppose such a list would include

·        winning the lottery

·        money

·        food

·        clothes

·        jewelry

·        the latest technology

·        beauty

·        youth

·        travel

·        power

·        land, property

·        ‘toys’

·        popularity

In contrast, Paul’s letter to the Galatians picks up this theme and reminds us of the good gifts or fruits of the Spirit, which God provides; gifts that build human relationships, gifts that are godly. That list looks quite different. It includes things that reflect on the love of God in Christ Jesus and the things he modeled for us, which help us dwell in authentic Christ-like relationship with our neighbors:

·        love

·        joy

·        peace

·        patience

·        kindness

·        generosity

·        faithfulness

·        gentleness

·        self-control

The good news of the gospel is that as life in Christ truly includes a radical reorientation of our values as individuals and even more as community, we are freed by the grace of God in Jesus Christ from the need to run in circles, consumed with worry after the things that are on earth.

We are freed by the grace of God through Jesus Christ to know that as the love of God is limitless, we will always have enough to share, and are already forgiven for the times when we struggle to do so.

As followers of Christ we find joy when we willingly and happily share with our neighbor the material, physical gifts we have – food, clothing, shelter, money for utilities and gas but also of this grand pool of love and welcome that we have been given.

As we are freed to let go of the things and the greed that has previously driven us, we are enabled to reach out to our neighbor in authentic love and invitation.

Let us therefore embrace Jesus’ word, that we might be rich toward God who, by the power of the Spirit promises to give us eyes to see that all we have is a gift from God’s gracious hand.

Let us know the gift of this community of faith that reaches out to share the gifts we have first received – time, talent and treasure, that all may know the abundant life of Christ.

Through the Spirit and in community, undistracted by the vanity of pointless running, let us see and hear the very people Jesus saw and heard; the lonely, the disenfranchised, the weak, the poor, the powerless – our neighbor – all those we are empowered to love and embrace.   

Let gratitude and grace define us and define our lives. May we have ears to hear God’s call to remember that our lives are not rich because of what we have accumulated or done, but because of what God has done for us in Jesus, on the cross, and through the abundant life that begins in our baptism and never, ever, ends.

Let us remember that in this God-given abundant life there are always more people to invite in and to embrace with the love, joy, gentleness, patience, kindness, and generosity and all the rest with which we are gifted.

Let us pray that Jesus will continue to show us the way, for surely Jesus’ own bucket list must include his desire that this abundant life of richness toward God be the single possession and treasure that all people will one day share.

         

A Mountaintop Experience

Mark 9: 2-9

There are days - more days than I care to count, in fact, when I have to admit that I dwell in a state of confusion. I read recently that “confusion” is something like the 51^st state, after Alaska and Hawaii, of course, and, truth be told, I suspect it is a heavily-populated state, where I have plenty of company.

Now, confusion of the kind in which I dwell has no relationship to intelligence. I know that, because I recently took one of those internet tests meant to reveal how well you would fare on a test given today to typical 5^th graders. You know the ones I mean? I am proud to say that I passed with flying colors. To be honest, I had been a little concerned about that, but apparently, in the realm of fifth graders, I’m like a genius, or something.

No, the kind of confusion that I’m talking about has no connection to intelligence. Instead, it is the result of confronting the unexpected, the mysterious – or that with which one has little or no experience.

I suppose you could say it is because of my own familiarity with that state of confusion, that I feel particularly compassionate toward Peter. Perhaps I identify – a little too closely for comfort – with the disciple who is perpetually demonstrating his own state of confusion.

In the gospel of Mark, poor, confused Peter really doesn’t come off very well at times. It might be said that this disciple of Jesus is not the “sharpest crayon in the box.” But then again, in Mark’s telling of the gospel, none of the disciples come off as being very astute.

For example, although they had witnessed Jesus healing many people and driving away legions of demons, they often lacked understanding of the point and the power of Jesus’ teaching, they misunderstood the meaning of his words, and they tragically failed Jesus at times.  They frustrated even Jesus, who at one point, asked them, “are you so dull?”

Even after Jesus had miraculously fed the five thousand with just five loaves and two fish, the disciples despaired, uncertain what to do when just four thousand needed to be fed. Then right after Peter confessed that Jesus is the Messiah, he rebuked him when Jesus made his first passion prediction in the verses just before these we read today. Dull. Confused. Foolish.

The events in today’s gospel happen some six days after Jesus told his disciples for the first time that he would suffer, die, and rise again. Then, he takes Peter, James and John along with him, for their own mountaintop experience. There, Jesus will reveal his divinity to them in ways that can leave no doubt as to his identity.

And there, atop that mountain, God’s glory is manifest before these startled disciples. Jesus is transfigured before them.

The transfiguration the disciples witnessed wasn’t some cheap parlor trick; Jesus didn’t just stand there with his face glowing and his clothes lit up. There was no magic mirror, no hidden battery-pack.

Unlike anything we can imagine, in this transfiguration, the entire bodily essence of Jesus is transformed. It is changed not only in appearance but in substance. It has taken on an unearthly appearance, radiance and form.

Jesus stood, transfigured, before these disciples with clothes brilliant, radiant, dazzling white, and they understood: this is clearly the face of the divine upon which they gaze. It can be no other.

And suddenly, their entire world view is shaken. It is as if everything they have ever known or assumed about God is mixed up, confused, confounded, as God reveals Godself –to them! - in Jesus.

Then, as if this isn’t enough, Moses and Elijah appear before them, too.

Peter, James and John aren’t just confused. No one has ever looked upon the divine and lived, and yet Jesus, clearly divine, has just been transfigured before them, within their full sight; these humble fishermen and disciples have looked with their own eyes upon a dazzling scene wholly outside of the realm of their experience, totally mysterious; this is a scene which they cannot fully comprehend, cannot fully explain,

          and

                   they

                             are

                                      terrified.

How would you react to such a sight, to such an experience?

I know that when I am befuddled, confused, or shocked, I usually do one of two things. Either I clam up, totally speechless and paralyzed, or I ramble. I talk too much, and adrenaline keeps me acting, doing, moving, even if just in circles, because I can’t be still.

And so, I recognize myself in Peter’s reaction: “Rabbi, it’s good for us to be here,” he begins.

“Rabbi, let’s stop what we’re doing and build three dwellings,” he rambles.

Rabbi, let’s keep busy, let’s not think too hard on this unbelievable, confusing, wonderful thing.

Rabbi, let’s just freeze this moment in time.

Rabbi, let’s just do something, anything, until this world stops spinning so dizzyingly out of control.

Now, a cloud overshadows them as a cloud had once overshadowed that mountain which Moses had ascended. A voice declares, “This is my son, the Beloved, listen to him!” And just as suddenly as it began, it is over.

The mountaintop experience is done. They are alone again, just Peter, James and John with their beloved Jesus, returned again to his former state.  In the blink of an eye, the glorious moment is gone, the brilliance is gone, the Lord stands before them as before, and the disciples trudge back down to the valley with Jesus as he orders them not to tell anyone about the experience. Talk about a state of confusion!

These disciples are puzzled by the whole experience, and by Jesus’ bidding to keep it to themselves. But they are also transformed by it because no one can encounter the presence of God and remain unchanged. Peter, James and John have witnessed something confounding, something they cannot fully appreciate or comprehend, but something they will never, ever forget.

We may not all get to have a mountaintop experience like Peter, James and John did, but we do have experiences in which God is revealed to us: perhaps through the unexpected generosity of another person, or by miraculous moments in our days. Perhaps it is when we are the recipients of forgiveness or we see God’s face in the face of a child, the words of a friend, or the eyes of a stranger. God reveals Godself in myriad ways, and invites us into relationship with him through the manifestation of his love, Jesus Christ, this one of whom God declares, 

“This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him!” We’ve heard those words before. Not long ago, at the beginning of Epiphany, we heard these words. At the start of this season of Epiphany at Jesus’ baptism, remember that the heavens were torn open and a dove descended on our Lord and we heard these very words addressed to him,

“You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

On this Transfiguration Sunday, this story leads us to the threshold of Lent, as we encounter these words again, and are reminded that God never stops revealing Godself to us. Jesus Christ, the light and life of all the world, is the embodiment of the mercy, grace, and love of God.

“This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him!”

The bright light of the Transfiguration serves as a light that shines ahead into Lent. This transforming light helps us to keep that season in perspective, with our eyes looking ahead to the cross, yet never without hope and confidence.

This light speaks a promise that God is here. Through Jesus, the revelation of the divine, the mysterious God is yet knowable. Through the incarnation of Jesus, through his life, his ministry, and all the way to the cross, the God who is revealed to us is a God seeks relationship – with us. Often confused, sometimes dull, and frequently foolish, us.

God knows that we need to experience the light of the Transfiguration here and now, as we search for the transcendent. God knows that we yearn to touch and be touched by the holy, the something outside of ourselves that is the cause for awe and wonder.

God knows, we seek the answers to our confusion. We seek the reassurance that the divine understands our fears and will calm them. We seek living waters that will quench our thirst for the confounding points of life and what relationship to the divine might be like.

Isn’t that what Peter longs for? Isn’t that what he, in his confused state, tries to cling to? And wouldn’t we want to capture the feeling of that mountaintop experience if we were in Peter’s shoes?

I think that much of the search for meaning which we experience in the world around us is indicative of the deep human need for transformation, conversion, and even, metamorphosis. We seek answers to so many questions – deep, existential questions and the revelation of Jesus in the midst of our own questions can be downright confusing. Mysterious. Unexpected.

“This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him.”

As we embark on the Lenten season here at Grace, we will begin to ponder how God’s revelation in Jesus transforms hearts. Through devotions and prayer, we will examine how it is that God can and does “Create in Me a New Heart.” We will seek to understand how God’s love is made manifest and comes to us anew in and through the cross. We will contemplate how the Messiah, the Son of God, meets us and indeed creates in us new hearts, new possibilities and new understanding to God’s love which is at the core of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ.

Confusing and mysterious, yet very real and essential to our lives, let us consider, these next forty days, how God is creating in each of us a new heart.

The equivalent of a mountaintop experience? Perhaps not. However, in the deep, quiet moments of contemplation and prayer, may the Spirit of God speak to us in ways that profoundly reveal the true nature of God’s inexhaustible love and grace for each of us, and for the world, as carried out through Jesus Christ’s passion, death and resurrection. Let it be so.