November 11, 2007
The Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 27, Year C)
Job 19:23-27a; Psalm 17:1-9; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17; Luke 20:27-38
Can you relate to this story? On the surface, it's another example of the growing power of the words of Jesus, and the reactions of some of those in the communities where he preached and taught. For the past few weeks, we've heard stories of challenge to the authority of his words, as leaders in important positions, both religious and political, ask veiled questions, not to clarify the message but to entrap Jesus into saying something that goes against conventional wisdom and what is accepted as both the word of God and the law. We've heard from tax collectors and Pharisees, and today it's the Sadducees. They were the elite of society, the learned and aristocratic, confident in their firm beliefs, including that there is no resurrection, that there is no life after death. And so they come to this encounter to disarm and discredit Jesus, and I imagine that they were feeling pretty smug and self righteous about it.
Once again we are presented with a story that illustrates that just when we think we know the answers, God shows us that we don't even understand the right questions. Just when we think we have it all figured out, God gives us a glimpse into those holy mysteries that we can only begin to contemplate. Today, it's a question about the resurrection, a question I cannot even imagine trying to answer. But in this gospel lesson from Luke, Jesus evades the trap. He doesn't rant and rave . . . no violent overturning of the tables in the temple in this encounter, no accusations. Today, as so often in the stories of the gospel, he raises the conversation up and out of the deception meant to ensnare him, and in doing so, offers us a glimpse of eternal life.
So yes, as I try to put myself in the place of the Sadducees in this story, I can relate. So often, especially in the early years of my journey of faith, I have tried to understand it all, tried to make sense of the stories and the lessons, and decide in confidence just what they mean. To know, with a strong degree of certainty, all the answers to the questions that inevitably arise as I try to figure God out. I'm thinking perhaps I'm not the only person in the room who has done this. It's human nature . . . how often throughout history we have tried to put God in a box, narrowly defined, someone we can wrap our minds around and understand. The very nature of mystery is that we long to unravel it, we yearn to figure it out, to solve the puzzle, to know the answer in a very concrete way.
Sometimes when I've had questions of faith, or have felt particularly smug about something, I've had the answer handed me on a silver platter, one of those “ah-ha” moments that knock us off our pedestals and open our eyes. But more often, the answers have come to me more subtly, and if I wasn't paying attention, I might have missed them altogether. I'm sure I could write a book of all the lessons I have missed. But God, the ever patient and loving God, understands, meets us in whatever place that we are, and leads us into deeper knowing.
Jesus, knowing that the Sadducees based their understanding of faith solely on the books of the Pentateuch, appealed to them through those same scriptures, recounting the stories of Moses, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. If they could have only heard him with open hearts, imagine how much deeper and richer their faith could have become.
In our desire to understand more fully our brothers and sisters in the Anglican Communion, for these past few weeks we have been using the liturgical form of the Australian Anglican Church. I've heard a few comments, mostly positive, about the subtle differences in this liturgy. But I've also sensed a bit of unease, especially around their use of the prayer of humble access.
Surely, we have come far enough in our understanding of our relationship with God, that we no longer need feel unworthy to approach the Eucharistic table. And I agree with that, absolutely, that we are dearly beloved of God and that He delights in our gathering together in worship and to remember his sacrifices that have brought us salvation. But I must confess feeling glad that we are also reminded of the awesome power of God, of our limits in understanding the depths of the mysteries of the kingdom of God, and in remembering that none of us is free from sin. I think this prayer can remind us that salvation comes from the grace of God and not our own doing. I don't find it a bad thing to be on my knees before God. It is in humble unknowing that we leave the door open to each other, and to the revelation of God.
In his response to the Sadducees, Jesus describes a place quite beyond our human understanding. In hearing this familiar story, I can't help but step back a while, and wonder what heaven might be like. The mystery remains because we have only human words and human context to offer a glimpse into the kingdom of God, where we will continue in eternal life, but in ways beyond what we can ask for or even imagine. God through Christ invites us to ponder this place that we call heaven, where relationships and needs and the desires of our hearts are transformed, where we too will become “like the angels” and become “children of the resurrection.” And so, as we ponder these things that lie ahead, and as God calls us to new life today, what is our right response? How do we go forward, today and tomorrow? Maybe like the Sadducees we can look to those who have a place in our lives and in our histories.
Think for a moment of those people you consider spiritually grounded, role models in how they live their lives in faith, those who seem to have the peace you long for. What are the characteristics of those we see as living their lives, everyday, grounded in faith? How do we go on, today and tomorrow? I think we go on differently, no longer smug or self-righteous or sure of having all the answers. For there will inevitably be more questions, harder ones, as we go deeper into the heart of God, and there will be more challenges. I think we go on in a deeper appreciation of mystery, and live our lives from a place of humility, open to the gifts of the heart of God, and certain of His eternal love and care.
Amen.
The Rev. Maggie Geller
Church of the Good Shepherd