Today is the first Sunday that we begin re-imaging Jesus to Christ; focusing on the transformation
in terms of his own understanding and ours of transition of the man from Nazareth, to the God man for the world.
One of the most important aspects of that transformation is the coming to grips with what really constitutes DUTY.
In the Exodus passage on the giving of the ten commandments we come to a point in the Hebrews' journey from bondage
to freedom where they exchange the yoke of the Pharaoh for the yoke of the Law. They are being challenged to understand
that there can be no real freedom without some obligations, and in order to freely maintain those obligations each
individual must choose to do their DUTY.
In the winter of 1935, a group of clergy in the US called for a worldwide Communion Sunday to focus on peace. They
chose November 1, 1936, being the month in which many nations observed the Armistice, or the ending of the First
World War. It was originally intended to be a one-time event, but the idea caught on, and the Federal Council of
Churches in the US promoted it as an ongoing celebration, moving it back to the first Sunday in October so as not
to conflict with All Saints' Day. It was never adopted by all Christian communities, and continues to fall far
short of being a world wide observance, BUT…for those of us who do participate…it is meant to remind us of our
DUTIES as responsible citizens of a world that is much larger than our own comfort zones.
Paul could certainly relate to such a concept for he too was forced to move from a proud and comfortable understanding
of his own heritage as a descendent of the Tribe of Benjamin, to embrace a much broader picture of his membership
in the Kingdom of God.
It is our DUTY today, and everyday, to offer sincere prayers for divine guidance for all world leaders, and for
all who give themselves to the ordering of world affairs. That would certainly include the need to pray for every
person who must leave a loving family out of a higher sense of duty, to go to places whose names they can't pronounce
to fix things they personally did not ruin, for people who often care nothing about freedom, truth, or right as
they themselves understand it. All such people need spiritual care, and we need to keep them in our prayers as
well.
Unfortunately faith communities have rarely been seen as sterling examples of those who inspire high ideals of
peace and civility by the way they live with one another as members of the Kingdom of God. In a recent article
this past week in the Boston Globe by Colin Nickerson, (Globe Staff, 10/2/2002) entitled: "Turf battles mar
peace of Christian shrine" : Muslim doorkeepers, Jewish police keep order among monks -we were told, "As
holy wars go, the feud at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is bush league. No bomb blasts, just sharp glares and
hissing intakes of breath, as members of the six Christian sects that share stewardship of the ancient sanctuary
maneuver around one another like rival alley cats."
''Someone has to help the Christians get along,'' said an Israeli policeman, part of the small law enforcement
contingent recently assigned to stand guard on the roof of the church, high ground claimed by two of the feuding
orders, after a July brawl sent 11 monks and priests to the hospital.
''Of course they are fighting; this is Jerusalem,'' said the policeman, ''Every grievance in the world raises its
head here.''
Downstairs, the hereditary guardian of the single door to the church is an affable Muslim. The job of unlocking
the door each morning and shuttering the church each night has been in his family since AD 638, by tradition, when
the key was transferred to an ancestor under an agreement between the Islamic conquerer Caliph Omar and the Greek
Christian patriarch of Jerusalem.
None of the squabbling Christian orders can be entrusted with the venerable key, the odds being high that the winner
would immediately lock out the rivals. This is a church, after all, where even the question of who is entitled
to sweep a given floor stone or polish a particular candlestick has been the stuff of weighty Israeli court decisions,
arcane rulings by Ottoman Turkish overlords, and decrees by the 12th-century sultan Saladin, decrees that are still
invoked and bitterly argued by the disputatious monks and priests. ''The reality of this place is simply the reality
of human nature,''
The latest row erupted July 28, when a 72-year-old Egyptian Coptic priest moved his chair a few steps out of the
glaring Middle East sun into the shade cast by a small tree sprouting from a stone wall on the rooftop.
The priest said he was just trying to cool off. ''I'm a sick man, I have diabetes. I needed to sit in the shade.''
Alas, the tree throws its sparse shadow upon a section claimed by the Ethiopian monks, who live on the roof in
an incongruous colony of African-style mud huts built among arches and pillars from Crusader times. They regarded
the white- bearded priest's shift of location as a blatantly hostile incursion. ''Oh, no, he is not just interested
in sitting in the shade. This is part of an attempt to drive us from our property. Step by step, the Egyptians
advance against us!''
Harsh words were exchanged. Coptic clergy rushed to the roof to defend the right of the priest to sit where he
wanted to. Insults turned to shoves. Soon fists were flying, then rocks, wooden staffs, and iron bars.
No one likes to be "unseated" from their high horse of self understanding, and being "unseated"---
as Paul was in the Epistle,--- as the tenants in our parable were, and even as we, both as individuals and as a
nation must be unseated is absolutely necessary if we are to be faithful.
We don't have to target the political world alone, there is enough hatred and violence to go around in every sphere
of our lives. How do we begin to make sense out of it all? What is the role of duty in a life of faith as we seek
to evolve from being purely human in our responses, and strive to become more like Christ?
Jesus told this parable to the established religious order of his day to show that the Kingdom of God belongs to
those who produce the fruits of the Kingdom of God. They are not the owners of the vineyard, and they never will
be. Too often those of us in established religious circles, pastors and laity alike, begin to view "the vineyard"
as their own little kingdoms, power perches, or domains rather than sacred charges entrusted to them by God.
The church never belongs to us. Our denomination implies that it actually belongs to them, but that's not quite
true either. To be authentic, if it is a Church in the first place it is Christ's church! We are, and must always
remain servants. The danger that most of us in Christian communities have with this passage is that we gleefully
see that the kingdom was taken from the Jews and given to us, but we forget that now we are in the same situation.
Now we have to respond correctly, or it will be taken from us as well.
What is it that causes violence in this parable? Why is there so much hatred?
False concepts of ownership and control are at the very heart of it. Is it MINE or is it God's? And if we honestly
attempt to answer "God's of course," as we know we should, then what are we doing with the things entrusted
to our care?
Are we serious about the privilege of prayer? Do we offer it up in honest hope for direction and change? Are we
willing to put feet to our faith and take advantage of every blessing we have to at least give some glory to God?
Do we use that car to visit those who are lonely? The many avenues of communication available to us to show some
concern for anyone less fortunate? Are we utilizing the richness of God's Word for our lives as well as the lives
of others? Are we getting involved in our communities to show them God's love for every area of their lives? Are
we acting as if our time, our money, our bodies, our homes are ours to use as we prefer? Are we simply striving
to be "members" of Christian communities and not disciples? After all, "membership" implies
privilege, like at a country club, where one is catered to but not expected to perform similar tasks responsibly.
A young Chinese boy was very interested in precious stones and gems. He asked a master jeweler to teach him everything
about jade. The older man agreed and they set a time to meet for an hour each week. The young lad was very excited
when at the beginning of the first session the master gave him a precious jade stone to hold. Then for an hour
the old man talked about philosophy, about women, about things that happened when he was young, but never mentioned
the jade. After an hour he took the precious stone and put it away.
At the next session he again gave the boy another piece of jade and rambled on and on about unrelated topics. The
boy became bored with all the talking and played with the jade as the old man talked.
This went on for weeks and the boy became discouraged. He thought the old master would never tell him anything
about jade. Finally he was so discouraged that he had decided to listen to the old man's stories one more time
then quit. When he went in the shop the master handed him a stone and the boy immediately and spontaneously said,
"That's not jade."
If you want to know God, you must come to God often, you must put your hands on Christ, you must often commune
with Him. Then, one day, you will be able to immediately recognize if something is of God or if something is of
the world.
The young Chinese boy leaned what was jade because he held pieces of jade in his hand week after week. When the
old jeweler gave him a stone that wasn't jade, the boy knew it wasn't jade because he had learned what real jade
was like.
We share so many differences as we gather at our Lord's Table. We live in a time of great conflict and upheaval.
While we are aware of what keeps us apart and separate, it is absolutely essential to understand the unity and
oneness we share in and through God's Grace and Love that has the potential to keep us together.
Imagine all the good we could do if we simply did our DUTY?
As I left to go to the grocery store the other night, I saw a cicada, still partially in it's shell, attached to
the tire of my car. I moved it so that I could take the car and not harm it. After I returned, I went to watch
the "miracle" of the cicada emerging from it's shell, but unfortunately, there was no miracle. The cicada
died pretty much as I had left it. When I broke the connection between the shell and the tire, the cicada was unable
to reattach to another object, and because of that it could not leave the shell behind.
Paul said, "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal..."
Paul recognized that sometimes our history, our previous ways of thinking and doing were just like the cicada's
shell - it was a loss to be left behind. It served him well in his previous life, but was no longer an asset. If
we get attached to the wrong things, or lose our anchor to the right thing we will never have the ability to fly.
A cicada can live underground for up to 17 years, but when it emerges, it's the noisiest insect in the world. What
a shame to wait all that time…and never have a chance to really live.
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