A Pearl of Great Price

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

A couple weeks ago we read the story of Jacob's birth, how he grew to young manhood and cheated his brother out of both his birthright and inheritance. In today's lesson we see Jacob a bit older and having run away from home in fear of his brother's anger. It's not without a little bit of delicious irony that while he may have run away from his brother, he could not outrun his karma (to mix faith based metaphors.) The cheater found himself cheated in the matter of his marriage. And cheated by a relative whom he trusted. Well, Jacob, what goes around, comes around.

What connects this story to the parables we read in the Gospel is Jacob's desire to do whatever he needed to do to get what was important to him. He ended up working 14 years to marry Rachel because he loved her so much.

The Gospel gives us several parables and each is rich and worthy of a lot of time. But summarizing, they point to God's abundance and the role of the seeker in taking extraordinary means to attain it.

The parable I'd like to focus on is the one about the fine pearl. Short and sweet it simply says that the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

The pearl, being in the shape of a sphere and orb, recalls symbols used in royal vestments to signify a totality of the kingdom, or a figure of eternity, or an archetype of wisdom. The book of Wisdom in the Hebrew Bible personifies wisdom as a woman and some iconographers depict her holding an orb.

The parable becomes an invitation to enter a spiritual journey that takes us deeper and deeper into the mystery of God and into the mystery of ourselves. A booming business for the past generation has been the rise of self-help books, talk shows, and now reality shows. I believe they are all attempts to help us to understand how we "tick". However, I can read all the books in the world, but unless I put into practice what I read, I gain nothing. The merchant who sold all he had made a total commitment to his discovery. Jacob spent years of hard work to attain his goal. It's not enough to "know," we have to invest the time and effort to do the work.

Beginning this past week and extending two more weeks there is a major event happening in the worldwide Anglican Communion. The Lambeth Conference meets every ten years and is hosted by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Its original intent over the last century has been to gather Bishops of Anglican heritage from around the world who have no legal jurisdiction over each other, but a common heritage in the Church of England. It's to be a sign of unity and cooperation in a religious world of often competing and even more often critical and hostile criticism. As a communion we have long had differences of opinions, but have prided ourselves on the ability to weather storms of disagreement by conversation and common ground.

This sign of unity is threatened over the controversy begun several years ago when the American Episcopal Church consecrated Gene Robinson, an openly gay and partnered man to be a Bishop. The American Church is well within its legal rights, and a majority still contends its moral right, to move in this direction. Other Bishops around the world have decided to draw a line in the sand around this issue. Many conservative Bishops have stayed away in protest of the American church's actions. Gene Robinson himself was not invited.

The pearl of great value in our witness to God's love still seems to be on the bargaining table. The Bishops have wisely, I think, put off the conversations of this topic for the latter part of their time together and while it's still certainly the elephant in the chapel, there are other topics which they should be pursuing- like peace, hunger, the abuse of women, illiteracy, indeed all the UN Millennium Development goals. In fact, the Bishops did march through the streets of London in witness to the against global poverty.

The impact they could have as witnesses of communication and modeling how to resolve issues as Christ would have called us to do is immense. The issues of sexuality, important as they are, are still only smoke screens for the real struggle of how to read the Bible and glean its teaching. Fundamental intolerance is creeping into a group once hailed as open to new thought and able to discuss and debate core issues in a civil manner.

More work has yet to be done as the conference continues and it certainly deserves our continued prayer. A common vision for a witness to God's love that extends to all people is indeed a pearl of great value. I hope they buy it and take all the time they need and pool their resources to work together to do so.

But while they are doing their work, we also have work to do. Yearning for God and finding the treasure of God's love is work for each of us. The parable and other stories are simply backdrops for our own work and struggles as we weigh the determination with which to pursue our own goals.

I wrestled with whether or not to tell this next story since it's very personal, but I think it relates to the point of working to achieve important spiritual goals. Parts of the story are intentionally vague however, listening to a restlessness in my spirit some months ago I decided to get in touch with a spiritual director known for his rigorous methods of spiritual inquiry. He doesn't take many directees anymore and I felt fortunate to be among them.

There are many methods of spiritual direction, but his involves an examination of the past, warts and all -- confessions of my deepest and darkest secrets and also asking probing questions of things I'd prefer to forget. All of this in the quest of finding the root of the inner restlessness I felt. At one point he grinned and said, "We're going to shake the tree and see what falls out."

Among the things that did fall out were perplexing and disturbing memories from my childhood. Painful, dangerous and frightening I again saw after many years what a child should not have seen. As an adult I have a better understanding, but the child's pain has been unresolved. It's easier to talk of these things in a detached way here, but I assure you under the guidance of the skilled director it has been painfully cleansing. For me, some memories are clear, others vague, but my commitment to the healing which I believe is only possible in the love and grace of God, keeps me going despite the pain.

Some friends have advised that I not do this work and let sleeping dogs lie. But I won't put a band aid on a deep wound and once begun I cannot stop. I will take this as far as I can come what may. And I will do whatever I have to do. For me the pearl of great value is a resolution to a very old wound, and I intend to get it.

Spiritual work is just that -- work. In all the parables the characters involved make decisions and take actions. As a wise person once said, "Nothing difficult was ever easy."

The world around us has business coaches, life coaches, sponsors and mentors. In our faith tradition we have spiritual directors. Our tools are prayer, sacraments, meditation, community of faithful lay and clergy, scriptures, reason and our traditions. Use me as a resource, or Chris Carroll or Chris McCloud either as a person to help you or as one to recommend another person who can.

Few, if any, of us take these journeys alone and the good news is that we don't have to. To reach our spiritual goals there are many obstacles -- painful experiences, fears, anger and resentments, confusion, are just a few. The goals of inner peace, stability, balance and hope are some of the pearls of great value available to us. They aren't cheap, but well worth the price and effort to find and buy. And the currency to buy it is simply the desire to do so and the willingness to stop at nothing to get them.

In respect to the Lambeth Conference I'll close with a verse from the English poet John Byrom writing in the early 18th century.

"My spirit longeth for thee;
Within my troubled breast;
Although I be unworthy of so divine a guest...
No rest is to be found, but in thy blessed love;
O, let my wish be crowned, and send it from above."
(John Byrom, d. 1763)

Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

The Wheat and the Weeds

By Mary Davis, Seminarian Intern

Matthew 13:24-30; 36-43

There really ought to be an ecclesiastical law that says, ‘thou shall not read scriptures which reference “weeping and gnashing of teeth” on Baptism Sundays!’ And yet, this reading from Matthew is our appointed Gospel lesson for today, and I’ve wrestled with it a great deal, knowing that today is Will’s and Lilyanna’s baptism day. The author of Matthew uses this, his favorite expression of judgment and punishment - “weeping and gnashing of teeth” - no fewer than 6 times in his book, and this particular reference, as we heard this morning, is included inside the explanation for the parable of the wheat and weeds.

Jesus knew a little something about wheat and weeds, and the particular weeds Jesus was speaking about in this parable, were not dissimilar to the weeds growing up in my own yard, fed by water, sunlight and soil, same as the healthy seeded grass. They exist side by side and at times compete for space. Truth is, evil exists and just as there are individuals, institutions and establishments that feed and sustain us just like wheat, and there are also individuals, institutions and establishments that drain the life out of us just like weeds.

Our human inclination is to sort and categorize people, just as the slaves in Jesus’ story wanted to gather up the weeds and pluck them out. Although I do not know much, if anything, about the organic nature of wheat and weeds, (and if I did, I probably would not be standing here right now), I do know a little something about wheat and weeds in the figurative sense. I grew up in Texas, well, actually, I moved to Texas from the coal-mining hills of Kentucky when I was 9 years old. And my transition to life in Texas was not an easy one. There was much to learn, and in fact Texas offered me an entirely new culture and they spoke a different language. I learned that you either wore the burnt orange of the Texas Longhorns, or you were a die-hard “gig ‘em” Aggie fan. I learned that you were either “From” Texas (meaning, you were born there) or you were not. And I learned that you were either a bible-believing Christian from a so-called “Bible Church”, or you were not. Even though I converted into a Longhorn fan, most of the time, I fell into the “not” categories in Texas – I was not “From” Texas, born and bred there, and I was not was I from a ‘true’ Bible church, but instead I was from a strange Protestant liturgical and sacramental church, the Episcopal Church. I was an outsider, and I must say, it was not uncommon for me to be lumped into the category of weeds or to hear references to “weeping and gnashing of teeth” applied to outsiders such as me.

Now, in order to understand this story further and on a deeper level, apart from the experience of wheat and weeds, we also have to look closer into the world of the parable, which is the container, the structural Tupperware, if you will, of the wheat and weeds. To appreciate what a parable is, first of all, let’s look at what a parable is not. A parable is the opposite of a myth. A myth serves to resolve contradiction and paradox, and assumes that reconciliation is not only a possibility, but a reality. [1] In this summer season full with vacations and travel, the myth of Disneyworld, comes to my mind. I’ve been there a couple of times with my family and noticed that there’s no doubt or subtlety to the mythic spirituality at Disneyworld which is made complete each night with a Jiminy Cricket led meditation of fireworks and the assurance that indeed “all of your dreams will come true.”

Parable, on the other hand, is not about covering up contradictions or blemishes or paradoxes, but instead it is all about those contradictions. For example, Jesus tells parables about a world where the “first will be last” and the “meek will inherit the earth,” as well as where, as today’s text reads, “an enemy [will] sow weeds among the wheat.” We live in a parabolic world where yes, wheat and weeds do exist side by side, though we crave and hope for a mythic world where neighbors live in peace and treat each other with respect.

Contextually, when Matthew’s Gospel was written, around 85 AD, the tensions between the Jewish establishment and the newly emerging Christian Church were particularly bitter, and Matthew’s harsh words for those who questioned Jesus’ legitimacy and wisdom came out of that parabolic community existence. Clearly, in that time, the notion of community was a parable, a contradiction and competition between wheat and weeds, and I’d like to suggest that today, we too experience the same thing, community as a parable in action.

So what does this mean, a “parable of community?” I first tripped over this idea while doing some background reading in anticipation of my upcoming 2 week pilgrimage to Taize, France. I am heading to Taize this Thursday, which is an ecumenical religious community 300 miles south west of Paris. It was founded in 1940 by a Swiss Protestant by the name of Roger Schutz, or Brother Roger, as he was known. The monastic life at Taize includes Catholic, Lutheran and Anglican members, and their meditative worship style is based on the notions of forgiveness, reconciliation and God’s presence. These primary ‘sources’ or monastic rules – which are what life at Taize is built around - structure everything the brothers do at Taize and as well as in their missions around the world. But Taize is not an example of a mythic community, isolated from the world in some picture perfect holy existence, “where all your dreams come true” – the Brothers there live the life of the parable, just like you and I do. They live out the Henri Nouwen’s definition of community – “As soon as you have community, you have a problem. . . ‘Community is the place where the person you least want to live with always lives.’” [2] And, when my pilgrimage leader once asked one of the Taize brothers how it is possible for all of the brothers at Taize to live in community, one of the brothers responded with a wise smile, “If we didn’t have the Prayer three times a day, we would kill each other.” [3] To live in community means that we are dependent on the very thing that causes us stress, the wheat and the weeds together. Since no one is a Christian alone, this is the parable of community.

Today’s baptismal celebration fits right in with today’s Gospel parable, because not only does this ritual mark these children as “Christ’s own forever”, a promise of God’s never-ending presence, and initiate them into both the St. George’s and the worldwide Christian community of faith. Baptism also marks Will and Lilyanna with the sign of the cross – which is a sign of contradiction that reminds us that we must die to live - and that even as much as we love and protect our children, their growth and development - physically, emotionally and spiritually - involves letting go.

Our wider Christian community is certainly not immune from the parabolic nature of life either. We need not look any further than our own Episcopal Church and our anticipation of The Lambeth Conference as on-going evidence of this. Our communion is united by our marks in baptism as “Christ’s own forever” and yet, we are divided by human judgment and an almost innate drive to separate the wheat from the weeds. Reading a quote this week by Bishop Robinson gave me some honest and true perspective, and some hope. He said, “I believe in my heart that God’s love is not only inclusive, but also extravagant” and it seems to me that only a God-given extravagant love can create communal unity; unity as a divine gift, not a human creation.

So, the beauty of reading this Gospel lesson today, on this baptism day, is that it is symbolic of our lives as a parable. We live the tensions and questions of our individual lives inside community, and within our community exists yet another set of tensions and questions. Our lives in community mean that on some days we are like the weeds in the garden – masquerading as wheat and drawing life from others – while still, on other days, we are the ones who support and sustain others in our community. Judgment should not come from our human desire to categorize and exclude, but only through God’s extravagant love, which can and will feed us completely and eternally, turning our communities into places of forgiveness, reconciliation, and God’s presence.

Amen.

[1] Anderson, Herbert and Edward Foley. Mighty Stories, Dangerous Rituals (John Wiley and Sons: San Francisco), 1988, pp. ix-xv.
[2] Nouwen, Henri J.M. with Michael J. Christensen and Rebecca J. Laird, Spiritual Direction:Wisdom for the Long Walk of Faith (San Francisco: Harper Publishers) 2006, p. 113.
[3] Rev. Jeff Markay, email correspondence, 7.10.08.

© 2008 Mary Davis

Jacob and Esau

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

I wanted to talk about the parable of the sower and the seeds, but a phrase in the Old Testament lesson nagged at me too much and wouldn't let me concentrate. Perhaps the same phrase jumped out at you? It's the phrase when Esau comes in from the field and he's hungry and says to Jacob, "Let me eat some of that red stuff...."

Now, I like to cook and God knows that description could also be used with some of my dishes. Still, it irks me to see it here. One wonders what was on the mind of the translators who came up with this "red stuff." Earlier translations used the words "stew" or "pottage." Both of these are noble and hearty words to describe the food Jacob was eating and presumably taunting Esau with. "Red stuff" seems to lack the dignity one expects in Biblical readings. I am tremendously impressed that the layreader read this lesson without so much as a smirk. Not only would that reaction have been appropriate but the well aimed "hurrumph" would also be fitting. So a big Bronx cheer to the translators of this passage.

Having said all that, and getting that out of my system, a word about word play might give some instruction. You see, not only is the translator guilty of dubious humor, the original writer is too. The writer goes out of his or her way to describe Esau as a red, hairy man. The word "esau" means "hairy" in Hebrew. So this means that Isaac and Rebecca named their hairy little baby, "Hairy." (And not the kind that met Sally, either!) Well, little baby Hairy was followed closely in birth by his twin brother. We're told the twin had grabbed hold of Hairy's heel on the way out, and perhaps used this method to ease the passage. I must admit that my understanding of childbirth was stretched by this image in and information. I never thought there was so much room for this sort of gynecological gymnastic.

Never the less, Isaac and Rebecca having demonstrated an uncanny wit for naming babies, named the second boy "heel grabber" or in English, Jacob. I'm beginning to feel a certain generosity of forgiveness for the translator who came up with "red stuff," given the act he's had to follow. Oh, but we're not done with the clever word play yet. You see Esau had a nickname. He was also called "Edom." Edom means "red." So both his red hair and the red stuff for which he traded his birthright earned him this clever nickname. No doubt when the enormity of his mistake was discovered, he was probably also very red faced.

Esau apparently did not inherit the cleverness of Isaac, Rebecca or share in the calculating and effective deceitfulness of his brother Heel Grabber, uh, Jacob. It would seem that Jacob was to grab much more than his brother's heel during their lives. Esau was the first born and therefore entitled to the inheritance. Despite what we might think of the fairness of that system, that's what it was. But by the time they were grown, Jacob had tricked Esau out of all of it.

These stories in Genesis are creation and origin stories. They tell the tales of beginnings. You can imagine families around the fires at night where children ask how the world was created or why do we live here and those people live there? There were stories about everything and everyone from people and places to rock formations and rivers. Puns are important in these stories and unfortunately we lose a lot since the original language holds a treasure trove of them that aren't translated in this way.

It's also apparent that these stories are in some cases gentle and in other cases not so gentle mocking of neighboring peoples and also dangerous enemies. In these stories Jacob and Esau went on to be the patriarchs of nations that lived side by side. Jacob's name was later changed to "Israel" and the country bears his name; while Edom, the country to the south of Israel (also known for its stretches of red rock formations) bears the name of Jacob's brother -- a name that is the subject of teasing and slight ridicule.

When I was a child the RI neighborhood I grew up in was fond of certain ethnic jokes aimed at people descended from a European country that discretion prevents me from naming. One year cousins of ours from Holland came to visit and as children do we started swapping jokes. We giggled and roared as we told our favorite ethnic jokes and were confused why they didn't laugh at all.

For their part, they found great humor in telling Belgian jokes. And while they giggled and roared my siblings and I looked at each other totally bored with that line of humor. What's so funny about Belgians we wondered?

However, being adaptable children we soon learned that if we each told our jokes and substituted our preferred nationalities that our respective audiences giggled and roared as we had originally hoped.

The point is that prior to the raising of politically correct sensitivity, the mocking of one nationality by another is an age old past time. Israel and Edom shared such a past time using each other as the brunt of their humor. The wisdom in this story, though, echoes that of one we read a short time ago between brothers Abraham and Ishmael who also founded countries that became enemies later on. The wisdom is that even enemies are rooted in family ties. Our enemies are not our enemies at all. They are our brothers and sisters.

The beauty of these creation stories is that they convey wit and humor describing relationships that were contemporary to them while not losing sight of the fact that all people come from God and are brothers and sisters.

Our societies are marked by relationships that run the full range of loving to deadly. Our rhetoric goes from witty and good natured teasing to poisonous slander or vicious distortion. Election years are fodder for such negative volleys and this year promises to be more severe than most I believe. People at war, and those on opposite sides of political or social issues -- as well as those involved in personal disputes tend to be guilty of dehumanizing their opponents.

Despite our relationships, the disagreements, the tensions and even dangers, we are all bothers and sisters springing from the love and life of God. Unless we change our approach from enemies to be vanquished to brothers or sisters to be reconciled we will be out of sync with the earliest wisdom of creation -- that we are all from God and only through God can we all be reconciled.

Jesus told his disciples about the seeds being sowed on the path. Not only can we look at the seed as being the word of God that we hear and in fact how we listen to it, but in the many layers of the parable, we can see ourselves as the seed being sent to bear fruit in a world that needs it. Not only do we hear the word, but we become the word. There are obstacles to both. But in the end, it is God's garden and God's been planting gardens a long time. If we do our best, God will do the rest.
Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ