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Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Intelligence Assisting and The Meaning of Life



Luke 9:28-36
I don’t own an iPhone, - a smartphone, yes – but not the Apple iPhone. But I know many people who do have iPhones, and a favorite pass-time among them seems to be to pull out their phones and ask ‘Siri’ all kinds of questions.
In case you’re wondering, “What or who the heck is “Siri?”, ‘Siri’ is a software application or app, which the Apple company, makers of the iPhone, refers to as a “built-in “intelligent assistant.”
This “app,” ‘Siri,’ enables users of the devices on which it is installed, to use voice commands to ask for information and carry out certain tasks.  You can ask ‘Siri’ questions practical, profound, or mundane, and you will receive an answer.
For instance, you can ask ‘Siri’ “will I need an umbrella tomorrow?” And she might say, “There is a 40 percent probability of rain in your area tomorrow,” or, she might answer, “You can forget the umbrella tomorrow. All sun, all day long is forecast for Easton, Maryland.”
Some people I know (you know who you are) like to ask Siri existential, tough, or silly questions, just for the fun of it. For this reason, I know that if you ask Siri a question like, “When will the world end?” one of the responses she might give is, “I don’t know, but maybe we should put bags over our heads or something.” Siri has a sense of humor.
I was reading the blog of a pastor recently, who she wrote that she had inquired several times of Siri, “What is the meaning of life?” and received different answers each time.
“As you can imagine,” she writes, “[Siri’s] answers ranged from the ridiculous to the humorous to the surprisingly profoundly practical. For instance, these are some of the responses Siri gave her to this question:

“Life: a principle or force that is considered to underlie the quality of animate beings. I guess that includes me.”
“And then, contradicting 'herself' [Siri answered]: ‘I find it odd that you would ask this of an inanimate object.’

This was my favorite answer to the meaning of life question: ‘All evidence to date suggests it's chocolate.’

She has also advised: ‘I don't know, but I think there's an app for that.’

“Finally, in an entirely practical vein, [Siri] seems to offer advice to give content or texture to life's 'meaning:” ‘Try and be nice to people. Avoid eating fat. Read a good book every now and then. Get some walking in. And try to live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.’

“Perhaps if you ask, you'll get different answers,” the pastor continues. “Either way, it is a universal quest, this trying to make sense of it all.”
Trying to make sense of it all may be a little of what the disciples did on that mountaintop so long ago, as it is what we try to do when we read this beautiful, wonderful, complex, mysterious, and puzzling story. Existential questions like this underlie much of our searching, seeking, and questioning.
What the disciples witnessed at the transfiguration was no doubt surprising, confusing and alarming to them. There had been and would continue to be so many questions for them about how God was answering their own search for meaning. How could they make sense of this wondrous vision they beheld, when Jesus was transfigured – transformed before them, entirely changed, from the clothing he wore to the appearance of his face?
While they were still digesting the sight of the transformed Jesus and what it meant, two men appeared with Jesus, and they talked to him, and then a mysterious cloud descended on them all as the whole vision is swallowed up by the cloud. The disciples clearly heard a voice then, God’s voice, speaking clearly to them out of the cloud, instructing them, “This is my Son, my chosen. Listen to him.” What does this mean?
What are they to make of this whole event? I am not even sure Siri would have an answer to that question.
The text tells us the disciples were sleepy, and it is no wonder that they were exhausted. Consider what has come before this passage, in the 9th chapter of Luke’s writings. Imagine that you were one of those disciples who, within a short bit of time have been commissioned by Jesus and sent out to proclaim the kingdom of God, which you have done all over the Galilean countryside in fact, traveling from village to village and healing people everywhere.
Tired yet exhilarated from your travels, you returned to report to Jesus all that happened on your mission trip. Together you took off for Bethsaida, a quiet little place where you can get some R & R and where you might unpack all that you have experienced and explore what it means for the ministry you are engaged in, but in the end, there is no time for that – because crowds follow you there.
It is the demands and questions and needs of the crowds that Jesus then addressed and where more healing took place until finally, you and your fellow disciples had to prevail on Jesus to send the crowd away, for it is too large, and you are in too remote a place to be able to feed and care for all these people. “C’mon Jesus, give us a break!” Jesus, of course, had other ideas, and with just five loaves and two fish, at Jesus’ command you fed that great crowd, with plenty left over.
After that, as Peter spoke up on behalf of all the disciples and confessed that Jesus is God’s Messiah, Jesus made the prediction that soon he would be rejected, killed, and would rise again; to be his disciple, he said, would mean picking up his cross and following him.
Peter, James and John, along with the other disciples, must not only be exhausted, they must be reeling. How could Jesus die? God can’t die. The messiah is to come to bring victory and vindication – the messiah can’t die!
Then, just a week later, this.
The transfiguration bears witness to the identity of Jesus Christ. The disciples heard the declaration, “Listen to him!” God’s voice pronounces the definitive word about Jesus’ identity in the account of the transfiguration: “This is my Son, my Chosen.” This is God making sense of it all. This journey of Jesus’, this mountaintop experience, the healings and teaching the disciples have been witness to, and what is to come.
This transfiguration episode marks a transition point in the life of Jesus and in the lives of his disciples – including us. This mystical moment, when the curtain of the divine is pulled back and we get a glimpse of something holy, can change the way we see and experience the world around us.
Moses’ presence makes the connection unavoidable; he led the People of Israel on the first exodus. Now Jesus will accomplish a second exodus, leading people safely through the waters of death, even as his own flesh is parted in waves of pain on the cross.
While this talk of exodus and death in the midst of transfiguration may be lost on the disciples, it is not lost on us. Today as we make ready to put aside our alleluias, we acknowledge that the remarkable epiphany of Jesus, the revelation of God with us as the light that marks our way takes a different form.
As Jesus is praying, something remarkable happens to his divine face. As the face of Moses was transfigured on Mount Sinai, Jesus’ own face takes on a luminescence. It shines with the light of glory.
As we mark the end of epiphany, we remember that as Jesus’ authority and divinity have been revealed in varying ways at his birth, in the temple, at the waters of the Jordan, and now on the mountaintop, the revelation is for us. It is for our sake. It is a sign of God’s love that extends itself into a world of hunger, and pain, of searching for meaning, and for existential wandering.
The journey Jesus leads us on is the one true answer for any of our seeking or questioning, hungering and thirsting, struggling and doubting. This is my Son. This is my Son. This is my Son. My chosen. Listen to him!
It is as we listen to him, as we follow his teachings, his example, his life – it is as we take our learning from Jesus and make it a way of life; loving, caring, healing, forgiving, and wrapping all of this in prayer as did Jesus himself (note that in the gospel of Luke Jesus prays a lot – and that this transfiguration occurred as he was praying) – that we ourselves are transformed as children of God and recipients of God’s grace and mercy, into disciples of Christ, whose entire lives have shifted, altered, and been transformed in remarkable ways.
 “Two men” appear miraculously three times in Luke’s gospel accounts: to these disciples at the transfiguration, to the women at the tomb on Easter morning, and again to the men in Galilee on the day of the Ascension of Jesus.



In the words spoken during these three encounters, we discover valuable lessons, for our mountaintop experiences and for the day-to-day lives which can be so exhausting. May the words of Jesus' teachings and the modeling of Jesus’ actions be the ultimate guide for our decision making and our interactions with other people. Listen to him, for in his words lie the secrets to justice among peoples and the peace that passes understanding.
At the resurrection, the two men ask the women, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here; he is risen." The message for us is, be prepared to be surprised by God. Do not dwell on the things that make for death, but seek the way of Jesus Christ among the hustle and bustle of daily life, and the opportunities for discovering new meaning in life through discipleship.
And on the Day of Ascension, they asked the men of Galilee, "Why do you stand here, looking up?" The same may be asked of us as Jesus bids us to look forward. It does us no good to stand rooted to the ground gazing into the skies. Rather, we need to look one another in the eye and move forward together, across lines of difference, so that the world can be a better place. And in so doing, experience the eternal in the present, the transcendent in the mundane, the mountaintop at the intersection. May it be so for you this day and every day.

Illustrations used by permission, www.freebibleimages.org.  
iPhone image courtesy of Wikipedia.



Monday, February 9, 2015

The Search Is On

Mark 1:29-39
          “Everyone is searching for you.”
And he answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 

          I was taken by those words from our gospel text today. “Everyone is searching for you.” Read another way, “They are seeking you.”
          What are you seeking today?
          What are the nebulous “they” searching for?
          The truth is that today, perhaps more than ever before, people are seeking, are searching – for something. Often that “something” is ill-defined and not even understood by the seeker. But still, there is “something”……

          Part of the human condition is that we are immersed in a lifelong search for that elusive “something” we might call it unconditional love and understanding, acceptance, mercy, or forgiveness when we fail; we seek belonging, and finally, peace and well-being.

                   We seek healing and we seek meaning in life. The simple truth is that even when we think that on our own we have found these things, we also find that they can be quickly stripped away, in the blink of an eye, with one illness or accident or other calamity, leaving us once again seeking healing for what ails us, or for a life that is fuller, more meaningful, essential.

          “They are seeking you.”

          Meet Patricia; I met her while I was serving as chaplain intern in a large hospital the summer between my first and second years of seminary. She was a patient admitted to one of the hospital units I covered.

          Patricia was the wife of a Baptist minister and she served alongside her husband in all manner of ministry in their church. She led women’s groups, organized activities and functions of the church, she taught bible studies, and provided moral and spiritual support to the members of the congregation. She arranged for meals and even child care for members who were ill, recovering from surgeries or injuries, or in other kinds of practical need.

          Patricia prided herself on being the perfect homemaker, perfect pastor’s wife, perfect ministry partner, perfect sister and daughter, perfect friend. She lived to serve Jesus, to support her church and her loved ones in every way possible.

          Patricia was a very busy, very engaged and engaging person, seemingly living a life full of meaning and potential. I loved my visits with Patricia. She was kind and vivacious, upbeat and full of a faith she was more than willing to share and talk about – a rare thing these days. She really seemed to have it “going on.”

          I would often plan my visits with her so that they would come just before a break or at the end of my shift so that I could spend a little extra time with her.  We would sit and talk at length about all kinds of things; we had some great conversations.

           But as one week turned into two and then became three, with each passing day, Patricia was a little less upbeat, a bit less positive. Before long, she became withdrawn and one afternoon, I found her in tears she quickly tried to conceal.

          I found that aside from the normal concerns anyone would have about her medical condition, what wore at Patricia most, what, in short order had robbed her of her joy and optimism and shaken her confidence and her sense of hope, was the impact her illness would have on her ability to be all that she needed to be for her family and her community.

          Already, the isolation of illness was wearing on her. People often tend to shrink away from pain, illness, from what they do not understand – something Patricia was already experiencing. And Patricia knew that she would be unable, at least for a while, to serve the church and its members in the ways she always had.

          Unable to care for others as she was accustomed to, and physically separated from her community, Patricia felt alone, discouraged, and disillusioned as she began to question her identity and her worth, and ultimately, why this was happening to her at all.

          Here was this woman of faith, this woman who knew Jesus, and suddenly, it was as if this illness had loosed her mooring. Where was God in all of this she wondered?

          Patricia began searching for answers to a question that plagues many of us in times like these. “Why?” “Why me?” “Why this?” “Why now?”

They said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.”

In many ways, Patricia’s example illustrates for us the “dynamic of difference” that often occur when, due to illness, injury, disability or any other kind of affliction, one becomes isolated from community and disengaged from society. While this kind of removal from social structures still happens to many of us today, in the first century Palestine it was an especially burdensome and disabling function of illness. We can safely assume that Simon’s mother-in-law, whom we meet in the gospel text this morning had experienced this kind of isolation.

 In addition to the potentially grave, possibly fatal outcome of any fever or similar condition in Jesus’ time, illness bore a heavy social cost, as the afflicted one would be unable to carry on his or her normal everyday duties.

 This would mean the inability to earn a living perhaps, or contribute to the well-being of the household. It also meant you would be unable to take your proper role in the community, to be honored as a valuable member of the household, town, or village, and would be kept in likely isolation from the same.

For Simon Peter's mother-in-law, for example, it was her role and her honor to show hospitality to guests in her home. Cut off from that role by an illness cut her off from doing that which integrated her into her world.
 Who was she when no longer able to engage in her calling? Here was a woman in need of healing, something to restore her to life as she knew it. Then, Jesus entered in. With the touch of his hand, Jesus restored not only her physical health, but also and perhaps even more importantly, he restored her to her social world and brought her back to a life of value when he freed her from that fever. Healing is as much about restoration to community and restoration of a calling, a role, as it is about the as restoration to life. For life without community and calling is bleak indeed. 
If you have ever been laid low for weeks at a time by the flu, shingles, or by surgery or other illness, you may identify with the disorientation and depression of being outside of community or work, or whatever the “norm” for you might be. You might know what Patricia or Simon Peter’s mother-in-law experienced; the isolation; the dehumanizing element that often accompanies illness and disease and the resulting rounds of treatment; the loss of trust and confidence in the fidelity of your own body.
          Sadly, there are many in our community and in our world who suffer afflictions not as easily identified and far more isolating and dehumanizing than those I just mentioned. Addiction, mental illness, longstanding or even permanent physical disability or disfigurement all create walls of separation and insecurity. Shame brought on by social circumstances, sin and failure similarly strip us from the life of community and belonging.
          Jesus’ proclamation of the good news of God’s kingdom of mercy, love, healing and salvation is welcome balm for all who seek, search, and long for what they cannot attain for themselves.
          “Everyone is searching for you.”
          If you know or can identify with any of these, then perhaps you can also identify with, and can understand not only the search, but also the joy of simply being returned as a participant in the "ordinary" processes of community and societal structures.
          Jesus' ministry involves the restoration of those cut off from community to a full role in the community. Jesus’ ministry involves the promise and proclamation of more. Jesus’ proclamation includes the good news that God’s power to overcome the powers of the earth, is indicative of his power to bring healing and wholeness to all who suffer under the power of any of the forces that diminish human life.
          Right out of the box, the gospel of Mark identifies Jesus Christ, the Son of God. This is a gospel that urgently wants to share this good news. It is as if the gospel writer takes his cue from the prophet Isaiah, “Have you not known? Have you not heard?”
          We have seen Jesus drive out the evil spirits from a possessed man, teach with new authority and conviction and call into discipleship those who would follow him. We have seen, at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry how God, through Jesus, restores the afflicted, and gives strength to the weary. Jesus gives not only new meaning but new life to those who follow him.
          “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary…He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.”
          We  confess a God who loved us even when we were dead in sin, even when we are afflicted by disease, even when we are possessed by unclean spirits, think unclean thoughts, and demonstrate unclean actions. We proclaim the good news of a God who heals and sets free those oppressed by any of the powers of earth which threaten to overcome us. Neither sin, nor addiction, joblessness, homelessness, alien status, illness, isolation, depression, nor doubt or hopelessness, nor divorce, nor any other manner of affliction have power to keep us from the love of God.
          This, my friends, is good news that we can share.  And the best news of all is that our search is over. The good news is that the one whom we seek has already “found” us. God has searched us out, God has “found” us, and God has sent the Holy One, Jesus Christ, to bring us the healing we so desperately need. In Christ, God heals and sets free all those oppressed, restoring us for valuable service and mission in his name.
          Thanks be to God!
Amen.