Friday, March 16, 2012

Fiery Serpents


A Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Steven L. Thomason 
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Fayetteville, Arkansas
March 18, 2012

The Scripture Texts for the Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year B are:


A podcast of this sermon can be heard here.

Numbers 21:4-9 [From Mount Hor the Israelites set out by the way to the Red Sea, to go around the land of Edom; but the people became impatient on the way. The people spoke against God and against Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." Then the LORD sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, "We have sinned by speaking against the LORD and against you; pray to the LORD to take away the serpents from us." So Moses prayed for the people. And the LORD said to Moses, "Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live." So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.]


John 3:14-21 [Jesus said to Nicodemus, "Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God." ]


When my children were young, our church in Little Rock had an elaborate six-year Vacation Bible School curriculum that invited us to live into the great stories of the Old Testament. During a hot week in July each year, scores of kids from across the city would converge on the church property, and live into the story of God’s salvation history. It was such a rich experience that we’d have adults take off from their work just to participate. There were storytellers who would bring the tales to life, and then groups would move around to different stations: arts and crafts, singing, games, and food, all thematically planned with an aim at helping us engage the story so we might, in some way, make it our own.

So, for example, we began with Adam and Eve and the Garden, and the Tower of Babel (which we made from shoe boxes and stacked in the sanctuary precariously reaching to the lofty rafters). And we built an ark with all sorts of animals, and arced a rainbow across the altar.

It developed into quite an undertaking, so we had publicity, too. One year’s theme was advertised as “Tricks, Lies and Holy Scrapes,” telling the rich stories of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and their families. Jacob steals his brother’s birthright, and has to flee for his life; Laban tricks Jacob into marrying Leah and working seven more years before he can have his beloved Rachel. Jacob tricks Laban by cross-breeding the sheep; Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery, and so forth. The Bible is chock full of such tawdry tales, bringing those biblical characters down from any pedestals we might like to perch them on, and we are invited to identify with them. At every turn, even when the scoundrels were about their evil plots, somehow God managed to use it for good. And isn’t that the invitation for us to consider today?
  
One year we managed to escape the fleshpots of Egypt, and we were invited to “Do the Desert.” What took the Israelites forty years to travel, we did in just four days. But it was hot, and we marched those kids from one end of the church block to the other, while they chanted, “We’re hot, we’re tired; I wanna go back to where my friends are…” In other years, our snacks were sweet and succulent; but in the desert we got only crackers and water. We got the Ten Commandments, and we worshipped golden calves. It was all great fun.

What was not part of the desert week of Vacation Bible School was this passage from Numbers we’ve heard read this morning. I suppose talk of fiery serpents biting at the heels and killing a bunch of folks, all presumably because God was tired of hearing the people whining about how bad they had it, was a little much to foist on the children. I know I struggle with how to make sense of that theological line of thought, and what are we to make of a bronze serpent on a pole somehow magically curing people of their snakebites just by looking at it.

It all seems a little much, and yet there it is, in our canon of scripture, so what are we to do with it?
Well, for starters, let me say that the Episcopal Church has only recently incorporated this reading into its lectionary. Lutherans have been reading it on this Fourth Sunday of Lent since at least 1958, as prescribed in the LBW, presumably harkening back to a time when the Passiontide spanned not its current one week from Palm Sunday to Easter, but two weeks, and the people were encouraged to keep their Lenten disciplines just a little while longer.

For the Israelites who were so tired plodding along in the desert, eating the meager fare of manna and quail, what they did not know is that they were right on the verge of arriving in the promised land. They soon would be reveling in the land flowing with milk and honey.

And for those of us making our Lenten journey of forty days, as we arrive at this Fourth Sunday of the season, we get a little encouragement—the fast is almost over, and the revelry of Easter is just around the corner.
  
Just hang on, the text says to both groups, then and now. God is up to something, and great things are about to happen. Just hang in there, and you will be surprised beyond measure at God’s goodness and mercy.

Only the old-timers weren’t quite able to keep believing, and they turned their attention elsewhere—to self-pity, and to mistrust. They dropped their eyes from the attentive gaze of godly worship, and instead turned their attention to things that were nipping at their heels. And, oh, how bad it was! I suspect the snakes had been unwelcome companions throughout their desert journey, but now it is all they can think about.

And so Moses makes a relic for them to turn their attention again to higher things. The Hebrew here is actually a play on the words for “bronze” and “serpent”—it’s a rhyme of sorts, perhaps for those who came after them to find some humor in the whole affair. It is interesting to note that the text uses an odd phrase, translated for us as “poisonous serpents” but it is more accurately translated “fiery serpents” or literally “seraphs” as in “seraphim,” those fiery figures of heaven’s host who stand guard at the gates of the Garden of Eden and cleanse the tongue of the prophet Isaiah, and are about the work of God across time and space. This is a clear reference to divine power placed in the midst of the people, for their good benefit.

What we know from a later passage in the Old Testament is that over the course of centuries, the Israelites began to worship the serpent pole crafted by Moses. King Hezekiah actually has to have it destroyed because the people have once again lost their way, diverting their eyes, and their worship, from the real thing, to that which was well-intentioned, but which has become an idol in its own right.

Which gives me pause to ponder how we do the very same thing in our own time—taking the well-intentioned thing and creating an idol out of it. Here on this Fourth Sunday of Lent, if the journey through our Lenten fast seems so tiresome that all you can think about is that which you have given up this Lent, then is it not unlike losing our way in the desert, even while we are on the verge of Easter. And things start nipping at our heels.

We may not have a serpent pole, but we have a cross, set high on a pole, and surely it can aid us in lifting our thoughts to greater things, like God’s mercy and grace, offered here and now, to you and to me. But, oh, how we can idolize the very things designed to assist us in our worship of the one, true God! Even John 3:16, perhaps the most famous verse in all of scripture, offered as words of hope and good will for all, and yet how often is it affixed to a placard at sporting events and the like to beat people over the head.

Even the Son of Man, lifted up, is an invitation to revel in the riches of God’s grace for all; not to become an idolatrous source of arrogance separating the haves and the have-nots, believers and non-believers, as if God’s love is not sufficient to claim the whole of humanity.

The truth is, my friends, that God is with us on the journey—always has been, always will be. We may forget it; we may wander around, not certain where we are or where we are heading, we may think at times that our situation is pretty bad. Sometimes it really is.

But in those moments, look up, look for signs that God is there. It may come in the most crazy, unexpected ways, but know that God longs for you to see the grace of God at work in your life, and through it, too. Our God is a loving God, providing guideposts to find our way to the promised land, to the land of light and joy, to the delight of Easter and resurrected life, lifted high for us to see, to experience, and to share.
So carry on, good and faithful servants. Carry on.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Jesus and the Moneychangers


A Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Steven L. Thomason
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Fayetteville, Arkansas
March 11, 2012.

The Scripture Texts for the Third Sunday after the Lent, Year B, are:

John 2:13-22 [The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, "Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father's house a marketplace!" His disciples remembered that it was written, "Zeal for your house will consume me." The Jews then said to him, "What sign can you show us for doing this?" Jesus answered them, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews then said, "This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?" But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.]

 

On the last day of December a couple of years ago, Diana Butler Bass received a New Year’s greeting from a friend who wished her the gift of “discontent” and enclosed this prayer:
O God, make me discontented with things the way they are in the world and in my own life. Make me notice the stains when people get spilled on. Make me care about the slum child downtown, the misfit at work, the people crammed into the mental hospital, the men, women and youth behind bars. Jar my complacence, expose my excuses, get me involved in the life of my city and world. Give me integrity once more, O God, as we seek to be changed and transformed, with a new understanding and awareness of our common humanity.[1]
I suppose not many among us would consider “discontent” a gift, but it is just such an impulse that lifts the corner of complacence and invites us to consider the possibility of “other.” It is the fuel for innovation; it is the fulcrum for change in its various forms; and it is, I would contend, a necessary component in the admixture of faith. It seems to me that Lent is an ideal time to consider the invitation into the unsettled gift of discontent. It begs the question, do things have to be the way they are?
Which is what, I think, Jesus must have thought when he entered the Temple courtyard during the Passover Festival. Something about the status quo upset him, and in the winter of his discontent, he took action.[2]
So just what was Jesus so unhappy about? Sadly, the Church, for much of its history, has taught that Jesus’ action was a repudiation of the temple practice of animal sacrifice altogether. Most scholars now agree that there is no evidence for such a conclusion, that it has anti-semitic overtones, and that Jesus was never interested in wanton disregard of the Law and its tradition. He was a faithful Jew who practiced the religion earnestly, even while being guided by its overarching directives to love God and love neighbor which informed every detail of how he lived life under the Law.
There is considerable evidence, however, that the temple economy had itself become gluttonous and usurious, taking advantage of the poor who were just trying to eke out an existence amid imperial oppression, while adhering to the religious requirement of devoting themselves to God within the context of the temple economy.
 The moneychangers were there to aid pilgrims in converting their imperial money into the temple currency with which they could pay for an animal to be prayerfully offered in sacrifice as part of the worship festival. The animal was handed over to the priests in the temple who would go about a centuries old practice of ritually sacrificing the animal, dressing it and cooking it.
The meat was then returned to the family making the sacrifice, with a portion donated to the priest and his family, and together with sacrifices of grain and other food items, the holy meal was celebrated by the family acknowledging God’s generous blessings in their lives. It was a part of the orderly conduct of a society whose religious practices were central to their identity.[3]
But when Jesus enters the temple square something sets him off.  Some suggest that the moneychangers and their animals had migrated from their designated places in the outer courtyards into the holy space of the inner temple court. And, moreover, it is likely they were charging inflated prices for the animals and pocketing the difference. A religion’s well-intentioned venue of assistance for pilgrims gone awry, and at the expense of those just trying to be faithful.
It stirs Jesus to action. He turns their tables over, spilling their coffers on the ground, and quickly fashions a whip to shoo the animals out.[4]  You can just imagine the scene as the moneychangers scurry to collect their change and gather up their animals amid the chaos of a crowded square, which would have had thousands of people there for the festival.
But there is nothing that would lead us to conclude that Jesus’ actions that day did little more than irk those in power and create a temporary disturbance to their operation… Except--except that it must have turned a few heads, and some perhaps followed him, and believed in what he was saying and doing, and found the courage to act in their own right. We who sit here today bear witness to their legacy of faithful action, stirred by the passions of discontent with the world as they found it, while also finding joy and hope that a loving God was engaged in ushering in a new world order, and had invited them to work in it.
And in the wake of the temple’s destruction a few decades later, they remembered what Jesus said, and managed to find meaningful expression in this body being the temple wherein God chooses to reside.
Now I should state here than when taken to extreme, discontent can sour, turning restlessness to rage, with destructive consequences both for the one discontented, and often for others who bear the brunt of such venomous invective. Or if discontent is not guided by a prevailing sense of compassion and a deep desire to work for change, then a cynicism resigned to inaction may set in. I don’t think that is what we are talking about, either when Jesus takes on the temple leaders, or in the invitation for us to consider discontent a gift in its own right.
I’ve been reading Diana Butler Bass’s latest book, Christianity After Religion, in which she writes:
“Religious discontent is indistinguishable from the history of spiritual renewal and awakening. Religion is often characterized as contentment, the idea that faith and faithfulness offer peace, security, and certainty. In this mode…the church [is depicted]as an escape from the cares and stresses of the world…[But] in the prophetic mode, faith discomforts the members of a community, opens their eyes and hearts to the shortcomings of their own lives and injustice in the world, and presses for human society to more fully embody God’s dream of healing and love for all peoples.”[5]
 Bass contends that in this new millennium, we are in the midst of a spiritual awakening, a period of discontent with the status quo in religion that is on the seismic magnitude of the Protestant Reformation and other major shifts in our history.  She suggests that the Church, as we know it, is coming to an end, and what is arising in its place is a less religious but more spiritual enterprise, by which I think she means an institution that is less concerned about preserving its institutional power and prestige, and more concerned about its prophetic voice in a broken, hurting world.  And to do that, we must be engaged in the deep inner work of spiritual awakening, as individuals and as a community.
I think many of us choose to be here at St. Paul’s because it is a place where we are striving, together and individually, to be faithful to such a prophetic vision, whereby we refuse to become too settled in our seats of comfort as long as we see injustices prevailing in our time.
To be sure, we are pastorally-inclined, both within our community and for those outside of it. A healthy community strikes the balance between its pastoral and prophetic identities. Remember, Jesus retires from the temple courtyard and then shares a holy meal with his friends who needed it. It is what we do here at this table as well--we are nourished, we support one another, then we go about the life together, caring for one another. 
We, too, are concerned for the well-being of each other—but not just ourselves, but for the world as well.
Some may say, now is not the time…to take on this or that injustice. I am reminded of Martin Luther King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail, written to well-meaning white pastors in Alabama who were pleading with him to wait in his cause of civil rights. I think we’d still be waiting for the “right” time had not his and others’ prophetic voices of discontent been heard…
Some may say that we have a wanton disregard for scripture or for our tradition when we stand with those who are oppressed, rather than condemning them as outsiders. I am reminded of the biblical tradition of prophets like Joel and Micah and Amos, and Jesus, whose prophetic voices called for “justice to roll down like a river,” and for us to “do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with our God,” and above all else: love God and your neighbor.
To be prophetic is to live with the tension of discontent with the world as it is, and make no mistake, now is the time, this is the place for action.
 It is not the work of the priest alone. You—you— are called to find your prophetic voice—but in doing so, know that it is a returning to that which is wonderfully orthodox, a faithful turning into a hopeful, new awakening, oriented to connectedness, equality, and spiritual wholeness. It is an invitation to be fully human, made in the image of a loving God, who has invited us into the creative potential of a new way grounded in a radical love for others, here and now.


For this community, as we earnestly live into a new spiritual awakening....
For your prophetic voices, expressed in a broken hurting world...
For your courage to act, in God's name...
--may God’s holy name be praised.


[1] Butler Bass, Diana. Christianity After Religion, New York: HarperCollins, 2012, p. 83ff.
[2] This encounter with the moneychangers is recorded in all four gospels, a fact that scholars generally agree enhances its historical placement in the record of Jesus’ life.  But its place in the gospels varies: here in John’s gospel it occurs at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, while in the other three gospels, it occurs near the end of his life. Here, Jesus makes the connection with the temple of his body; elsewhere he does not. But in all of them Jesus is portrayed clearly as discontented with something he saw, and among the throngs of people who were present for Passover, he acted.
[3] The animals were set apart for this sacred purpose, not as some antiquated practice of animal cruelty cloaked in religious fervor seeking to assuage an angry God, but as a way that people could eat fresh meat safely and in the context of their religious tradition which demanded that all aspects of life be lived in reference to God. Would that we slaughtered our food as humanely and gratefully in our own time!
[4] There was no evidence that Jesus used the whip on the people, by the way, as is sometimes claimed by preachers, although the writer of John’s gospel uses an odd sentence construction to keep us guessing: Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle.
[5] Op. cit., Bass, p. 88.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Faithful Living, Faithful Dying-A Lenten Series at Grace Church, Siloam Springs




Death, for Christians, is understood not merely as an event that we must undergo at the end of life but also as an ever-present accompaniment to the story of our lives. It is an integral part of life, a mystery to be contemplated as we live. Just as we make decisions about how we choose to live, we also make decisions about how we would approach death—our own and the deaths of others—and an awareness of the fact that we will someday die is necessary for faithful living. Preparing for our own death is a vital part of our spiritual journey.




We are People of the Incarnation. We all die. Death is a part of living.

Joseph Campbell, the late great mythologist and anthropologist said that all cultures throughout history have developed narratives—myths—that attempt to explain death as a fact of life and yet also a profound mystery that offers meaning to life.

Our Christian narrative has a foundation that depends heavily on the connection between life and death. Jesus said: I came so that you might have life and have life abundantly.

That life is a communal one—Trinitarian—all parties are in communion with one another.

It involves seeking wholeness (salvation)—rooted in notions of haelen and salvus.

It involves compassion and suffering 

It involves living as one who looks upon death differently (not as the end, but as the means).

We don’t deal much with “illness” directly in this series, but let me say here that as Christians, we can legitimately draw a distinction between “cure” and “healing.” 

Cure is a biological process; healing is ontological—that is, it involves the essence of meaning that transcends whatever reality may appear to be biologically. Healing can and does occur even in the face of death. Death may even be a means by which healing is experienced.




But we have not always looked on death in this way. We will approach the theological underpinnings of such perspectives in subsequent sessions, but I want to spend a few minutes now highlighting some of the ways in which people have viewed death across time.
I begin with a pre-modern image known well because it continues to find expression in subsets of our culture today.
Death is the one who stalks its prey, conjuring up fear because of its inevitable, comprehensive reach that touches all. 


Death as a mower with bandaged eyes
This work was carried out by an unknown 17th C artist.
Death is often represented with a horse, a musical instrument, or with bow and arrows, but also sometimes with a scythe; this drawing unites the last two characteristics, which is rather rare.
The bandaged eyes of Death are a clear symbol: it mows everybody, without making any difference.
It is difficult to determine to which gender this androgynous silhouette belongs—is this a delicate man or an athletic woman??
An unusual element in this work is that death is represented as a human with no sign of decomposition—much more common to that era were representations of death with skeletons, rotting corpses, and the like—very effective tools in conveying the feelings of fear and horror.

 Triumphing Death
This color drawing on parchment by an anonymous master of the early 16th Century, shows Death with a bow and arrow in its hands, arms outstretched in a gesture of triumph over humankind.
At its sides are a man and woman, half naked. At its feet lie pell-mell some clerics and laymen, representing the comprehensive scope of the victory—pope, cardinal, bishop, abbot, and priest; emperor, king, count, gentleman, soldier, peasant, scientist, userer, painter, musician and child.

The Triumph of Death
In this vision of the end of the world, painted by Pieter Bruegel the Older around 1562, 
Death is at the center. Armed with scythe and rides an emaciated horse.
It pushes men into a crate with a door marked by a cross—it appears to be a trap door…














Death is the enemy with whom we must negotiate
How and when do you want to die?
  “system failure”
  Exsanguination
  Sepsis
  Cancer
Since the 1950s, the road to death has taken a detour—technological imperative.
Is dying “from natural causes” really an option anymore?
Now, a caveat…
This is not the image of death I want to espouse, nor is it one that affords us the richest opportunity to engage the work of defining what is our
theology of death” as Christians, but it is a prominent, if not pre-eminent, image of death for us today, so I offer it here:







We no longer die at home, as former generations always have.
Who here has been to a wake where the body was in the home prior to a funeral?
We no longer experience death with all the senses—not even our food (chicken breasts). Farmers knew death firsthand—we are no longer agrarian.


Our experience of death has changed
  -we live longer
  -we don’t have death around us…

But it is still experienced…in multiple dimensions as familial, social, and spiritual events in the lives of others who surround the one who is dying.
















Week Two:Death in Culture




 Death, for Christians, is understood not merely as an event that we must undergo at the end of life but also as an ever-present accompaniment to the story of our lives. It is an integral part of our lives, a mystery to be contemplated as we live. The experience of growing older makes us more aware of this reality. This awareness is not often conscious but lies just beneath the surface, ready to emerge again and again. Many things can call it to mind—death of a friend or loved one, news headlines of a plane crash or accident that is startles us. Even the change of the seasons reminds us that our lives are caught up in the cycle of birth, growth, decline and death.
In the Christian understanding, death is not a bad thing—a consciousness of the fact that we will someday die is a necessary accompaniment to faithful living.
And yet…

Yet we receive little support from contemporary society for our Christian endeavor to face death in life. Our culture conspires against acknowledging its inevitability.
  -dying persons are concealed
  -we speak in euphamisms--of “passing away” or “losing” those we love.
  -medicalization of death (treats death as a biological accident)
-films show heroes with remarkable resistance to the demise of death
-violence in video games, action films, “comic” books minimize death



As Christians, we live in the paradox of death’s universal sting, while hoping to find meaning in and through it as well. (we’ll say much more about that next week)
Our culture, far from understanding this paradoxical mystery, nevertheless knows it at some level too. Why else would it be that even as our culture conceals death in a heavy cloak of silence (at one level), it is obsessed with death (17% GDP on health care, violence in films, etc.). And yet, death is there at every turn, too. Why? Because we cannot control it—so we create a fantasy of fictional entertainment—movies, video games, horror houses, interventional health care system, etc.
But there is something more to be gleaned…



What are some ways in which we see death in our culture?
  Most Oscar winning movies deal with death as a significant subject matter:
2009  The Hurt Locker
2008  Slumdog Millionaire
2007  No Country For Old Men
2006  The Departed
2005  Crash
  Lord of the Rings
Chicago (characters connected by shooting death)
Gladiator
Others: Titanic, English Patient, Braveheart, Schindler’s List, Unforgiven, Silence of the Lambs…
Music connects too. Funeral March—Chopin’s 3rd movement of Piano Sonata
And lest we think it is only classical music that speaks to death, here’s a clip from music video in pop culture. Evanescence, a band from LR, Bring Me TO Life—a song about wistful loss of life, suicide and letting go…themes addressed to our children.
Poetry and Literature: Google “Death poem” and you’ll get more than 6 million hits. I challenge you to think of any classical or modern poet of some measure of fame whose pen has not probed the poetic truth of death. It is rich.
And then there are the visual arts.

Guernica, Picasso’s famous painting depicting the bombing of Guernica, Spain in 937 as part of the Spanish Civil War.



Neil’s “Death of a Child”

David’s famous “death of Marat”

Munch’s The Scream

Gustav Klimt’s “Death and Life” (1911)


Satellite photo of smoke rising from WTC collapse, 9/11/2001. 250 miles above earth.
My experience with Rutter’s Requiem on 9/11.
2011-Trinity Requiem composed by Robert Moran.




The arts deal with death in a way that technological knowledge cannot—there is meaning to be found in our artistic expressions of death.
I have offered just a few artistic expressions of death—by no means exhaustive, and I do not mean to suggest that what these artists have rendered is “correct” in some way for you or me, but art approaches life with some target of mystic wholeness in mind.
Left brain—Right Brain functioning
Right brain is where much of the insight, the deep mystery of life and death, resides.
Metaphor is ultimately a very faithful servant of truth—the paradox of seeing and not seeing discloses the central nature of a metaphor (and through it what symbolic meanings we draw in our experience of life)
Art operates in the realm of the metaphor—it is where the spiritual reality is conjoined with, and stands behind, the physical reality—it is a means by which we can discover what is holy, important, sacred, meaningful, etc.
So I am going to ask you to spend the next few minutes with your right brain driving…
  It is not easy for many of us
  You will not be asked to share, although those who want to can
Close your eyes, if you wish, and peer deep for what is there.
When I say “picture death,” what do you see?
If you were to render the mystery in some artiful expression, what would it be? 




Listen to Rutter's Requiem here

Listen to Barber's Adagio (organ setting) here.






Week Three--Theological Perspectives of Death




What is the concept of time in your doctrine of creation? i.e., did time exist before creation?  Is time part of the created order? What is timelessness?


•The Anglican spiritual tradition has been incarnational, one that emphasizes a sacramental view of the material world, finding in it the outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace.
•It celebrates the goodness of God’s creation, often with a tendency toward deification (God became human that humans might become divine—an Orthodox view emphasizing our objective as one of communion with God in life).
• It is a kingdom theology,
rooted in our sacramental theology,
thoroughly grounded in common worship, and
envisions a continuity between the people of God in scripture and the people of God in our time.
Salvation history is a record of God’s agency that continues today, and our liturgical life bears witness to that hope.




Notion of Redemption is not “christian”—it finds expression in OT and NT and in cultures of ancient Near East.
Our tradition has not been monolithic in its expression—indeed, Chalcedon committed to clear understanding of the “person” of Christ, but never saw fit to derive one doctrine of soteriology.
Four (or five) have found prominent expression over the course of our history:
1.Divinization (theosis)—more common in Eastern tradition. God became human so that humans might become divine..
Work of God is in Christ
Locus of work is in incarnation and in death and resurrection of JC.
Athanasius, Gregory of Aza., Rahner
2.Christus Victor
Christ is our representative in cosmic battle between God and devil
Irenaeus, Augustine, Gregory the Great
Humanity is trapped and enslaved by the devil until God (using Jesus) frees us
3.Satisfaction
Humans have caused the mess and are indebted to God—the debt is paid by death as a result of our disobedience and sin.
Humans have no means to pay the debt since we already owe everything to God.
Only a God-Man has ability (God) and the obligation (man) to pay the debt.
Since Jesus had no sin (and therefore, no debt to God), he is our representative in paying the debt on our behalf
Anselm
4.Substitution (derivation of the Satisfaction theory)
Penal substitution—Jesus takes our place and bears our punishment even though we deserve eternal punishment
Reformed tradition, our own Rite I
5.Moral Example
JC lives and dies to fulfill what we cannot.
JC is epitome of love-dying in loving sacrifice on cross.
JC died for our sins but not to conjure up our guilt but out of shear love.
Our loving response is to follow in his footsteps, acting in sacrificial love
Abelard.


Resurrection—is rising to life from death (not specifically Christian in origin)
  -different from resuscitation or reanimation of the physical body
  -denotes a complete transformation of the human body and spirit (totality is affected/changed—1 Cor 15_35-55)
Something which happened in the past has inaugurated something new, which will reach its final consummation in the future.
Contemplation of the Christian hope serves as a solace and balm to those who fear the end of life by reminding them that something more wonderful awaits them beyond
The theology of death that we as Christians adopt is one that looks on death through the lens of Easter—through the promise that the sting is real, very real, but it is not final.
In all cultures, burial rites exist as liminal periods—moments of transition for the departed and the bereaved –it is a time of change in nature of relationships.
For Christians, the burial rite echoes our rites of baptism and eucharist because they are rooted in the Paschal mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection.
The burial rite also echoes the Liturgy of All Saints, because we claim with assurance that we take our place in the communion of saints. God’s grace knows no bounds of time and space the way we do.



Past
…but there is also the statement in Matthew 27: At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many.
Nicene and Apostles’ Creeds: He descended to the dead…
Present
John 5:24 he who hears my word has eternal life…has passed form death to life”
He who eats this bread will live forever (Jn 6:58)
Jesus will raise them up on the last day (John 6:40, 11:25)
Future
1 Cor. 15:20 … resurrection is an act of God, who raised Jesus from the dead as the “first fruits” in anticipation of the general resurrection.
  -the resurrected will shine like stars (Dan. 12.3)
  -the resurrected will be like the angels (Mark 12:25)
  -not thought to be an individual event but a corporate event—God would raise all the elect at the end of history (timelessness)
  -outside the bounds of time
  
Jesus’ resurrection offers the connection between redemption and eschatology

For Paul, Jesus’ resurrection enables believers to live in the knowledge that death has been overcome, and eternal life will be experienced in the age to come. (parousia)—HOPE for eternal life (which is a life uninterrupted by death)

Eternal life—vindication for the Son of Man (Mark 7?)
Romans 5:12-21—new creation
Eph. 4:6-8—heavenly exaltation.






Resurrection—so what?
Jesus’ resurrection offers the connection between redemption and eschatology
God is making all things new.
New creation in Rev. 22—Bridegroom says Come, all come—new creation gathers up all (incarnational)
Parousia (fullness of Christ’s coming in glory)—vanquishing death and forces of evil
Hope for eternal life—not something to be experienced after death, but here and now
Already done (past), offered now (present), fully experienced in future

For Paul, Jesus’ resurrection enables believers to live in the knowledge that death has been overcome, and eternal life will be experienced in the age to come. (parousia)—HOPE for eternal life (which is a life uninterrupted by death)



For Christians, the burial rite echoes our rites of baptism and eucharist because they are rooted in the Paschal mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection.

The burial rite also echoes the Liturgy of All Saints, because we claim with assurance that we take our place in the communion of saints. God’s grace knows no bounds of time and space the way we do.

Chronos vs. Kairos

Recall that on the first night we spoke of our identity as an incarnational people
  --enfleshed, incarnate
  --broadened meaning as People of the Incarnation of God’s Son (Trinitarian)
Nowhere is this more pronounced than in the burial rites

Two parts:
Commending the deceased to God
Committing the body to the ground.

Communal—Both parts occur in the company of those who grieve…

A funeral is, therefore, for the one who has died, for his body’s care, and for those who grieve.





At your tables, take a look at a section of the burial office together.
  What strikes you about this component? Themes? Shortcomings? Etc.







Week Four--End of Life Decisions



Even though we cannot normally plan when we die, we often can direct some aspects of the dying process.
First, a disclaimer: I am no attorney, but making these decisions in advance is a gift.
Removes the burden of trying to make those decisions at a very stressful moment.
Removes the potential for family members to spend their energy disagreeing, rather than focusing their attention on you and each other.
Puts you in charge!

Legal tools are available (but only of value if they are completed!)
Religious tools are available too. (that’s one primary objective of this series)



We have forms here which are recognized by the State of Arkansas.
What is required to execute these documents?
At least 18 years of age
Of sound mind
Must be signed (not verbal, but can be signed by another at the declarant’s direction)
Witnessed by two individuals
Does not need to be notarized in Arkansas

When does it become operative?
When it is communicated to the attending physician, and
when the declarant is determined by the attending physician and another physician in consultation either to be
in a terminal condition and no longer able to make decisions regarding administering life-sustaining treatment, or
to be permanently unconscious

How is it revoked?
By the declarant at any time and in any manner without regard to the declarant’s mental or physical condition. Tear up the copies!!!
The attending physician shall make the revocation part of the medical record.




Five Wishes—a copyrighted form of an advanced directive combining a living will and health care power of attorney in addition to addressing matters of comfort care and spirituality.
Originally developed by Jim Towey who had worked with Mother Teresa of Calcutta as legal counsel for her outreach intiatives here in US.
He and others founded a non-profit, Aging With Dignity, with a focus “to improve end-of-life care by encouraging people to make medical decisions in advance of a serious illness.”
It began in Florida, then modified by the ABA in 1998 and is now accepted as a legally-recognized form in 40 states, including Arkansas.
Answer Five Questions (wishes)



Advance planning required (you won’t get a say at that time)
Talk with your family and your priest
Make decisions  (cremation, columbarium/plot, context for funeral, etc.)
Tell us what you would like us to do? (at funeral/memorial svc, etc.)



It has been stated that your consideration of death gives rise to the need to plan ahead for this inevitable event.  There are, however, two basic types of detailed planning involved in this process: 
(1)planning for the disposition and burial of your body, and
(2)planning for the disposition of your estate (any money, property, or other assets that you will leave behind).
Estate planning is an essential aspect of Christian stewardship.  As you prepare for your death, you will want to think about how you will want to share—to the glory of God and the ongoing care of God’s people—the gifts God has graciously yet temporarily given into your possession.
Celebrate!  Celebrate the abundance with which you have been blessed by God. Celebrate your generous support of charitable endeavors.  And share that joy with Grace!



Using the forms available here, and the BCP and Hymnal, begin to “plan” your funeral.



Blessing: THE God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, the great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant; Make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you that which is well pleasing in his sight; through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Please feel free to email me for specific documents referenced here.