Monday, July 10, 2017

More Than Children

'Jesus said to the crowd, “To what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,
‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
we wailed, and you did not mourn.’


For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

At that time Jesus said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.'
--Matthew 11: 16-19, 25-30


As some of y’all know, I am a theatre kid.  I even had dreams of going to New York and being an actor.  I went to New York, but well, things turned out differently.  One of my favorite musicals is Steven Sondheim’s Into the Woods.  At one point the character of the witch sings her lament for the sorry state of things at a particular point in the show, and it all comes down to, as she sings:  No matter what you say, children won’t listen.  No matter what you know, children refuse to learn. For in the show, so many characters, especially the children, always do the opposite of whatever someone suggests. 

Children won't listen.

It’s not often you’ll hear a preacher say this, but Jesus has something in common with the witch.  When he looks around at his generation and tries to come up with a comparison, Jesus likens the people to children who don’t listen, or learn, or who always have to be contrary, no matter the situation.  One group of children says to another, “Let’s play our flutes at a wedding,” but another responds, “We don’t feel like being happy today.”  So the first group suggests again, “Let’s mourn together at a funeral,” but that second one quips, “We don’t feel like being sad today, either”  No matter what is suggested, they do not want to do it, no matter the situation, they find something complain about. 

This is how the folks’ in Jesus day responded to the prophets in their midst.  First came John the Bapitzer, living in the desert, fasting and isolating himself from the busy-ness of others.  They said he was mad to cut himself off from the world, that he had a demon.  So then Jesus comes, not forsaking the world but mixing with it.  He eats and laughs and spends his time sharing with all sorts of people.  And the response to him is that he’s a party-goer, a corouser, a friend of all the folk that decent people wouldn’t have anything to do with.  So John’s self-denial is madness, and Jesus’ sociability is immorality.  Like children, folks find grounds for criticism regardless of the situation.   No matter what Jesus or John say, they won’t listen, and no matter what Jesus and John know, they refuse to learn. 

That contrarian attitude isn’t just a symptom of children, of course,, but plenty of adults are filled with it now, just as back then.  Most all of us know someone like that, someone who will disagree with every position we take, someone who refuses to listen to anything we have to say.  The plain truth is that when people don’t want to listen, they will easily find an excuse for not doing so.  They don’t even try to be consistent in their criticisms; they will bicker about the same person or the same institution regardless of the situation.  If people are determined to make no response, they will remain stubbornly unresponsive, no matter what invitation is made to them.  So grown men and women can still very much be like those children bickering with each other, or the folks who flat out refused both John and Jesus.

It’s as though bitterness is always in their hearts.  Jesus dealt with such bitterness on a regular basis. So did Saint Paul, who articulates such a struggle in the seventh chapter of his Letter to the Romans:

"I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.  Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
--Romans 7: 15-25a

Though he uses the first person singular pronoun “I” most scholars agree that that word is actually a reference to Israel as a whole.  I do not understand my actions.  I do not do what I want, and I do that which I hate.  Why?  Because of the bitterness in people’s hearts, or as Paul put it, the indwelling of sin in people’s hearts.  The Law—Torah—had been established to help Israel be the people God wanted them to be, but even Torah could not keep sin, bitterness, anger, jealousy, hatred, from entering people’s hearts.  That sin led folks—including Paul himself—down some pretty dark and terrible paths.  That sin is what led many of the people to whom Paul wrote to act like stubborn children, to push John and Jesus away; and it is that indwelling sin that keeps stirring up those contrarian attitudes in us even today. 

What can be done?  Do we just blame it all on sin?  No.  Paul will go on to unpack this passage later in Romans, reminding his audience that while sin may be indwelling in us, so is the Spirit; that is to say, so is love and life and the ability to listen to and learn from each other.  We have a term for this called imago dei—image of God.  Humanity is the imago dei.  All of us.  We are, by our very nature, good.  We are the image of God, which means we have in us the Spirit of love and the ability to listen to each other, to create and restore, as we all move on this quest for salvation.   John and Jesus both invited people on this quest, but folks chose to pay closer attention to the indwelling sin than the indwelling imago dei.  But now, all these years later, we have the chance to be different, to say no to the indwelling bitterness and yes to the imago dei.  We have the chance to listen to each other.  We still may not understand our actions, and we may still from time to time do that which  we hate; after all, the struggle against sin is an ongoing on.  But, as Paul says, thanks be to God for Jesus Christ!  Some of you may remember the last line from today’s Gospel as the Comfortable Words from the old Prayer Book:  “Come unto me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden and I will refresh you.”  Come to Jesus if you want to see what the imago dei looks like.  But know that he didn’t just give us an example to look at, he gave us an example to live into each and every day, an example of not only seeing the imago dei in each other but in ourselves.  It is the invitation to be Christ-like ourselves, that is the grace Jesus has given us all, grace that  not only saves us from our indwelling sin but empowers us to embrace our own imago dei and live and love like Jesus himself. 

The witch sang that children won’t listen.  But at the end of Into the Woods  she sings:  careful the things you say, children will listen.  Careful the things you do, children will see and learn.  

Children will listen

Deep down there is a desire in all of us to reject the bitterness, the contrary attitudes, the sin.  There is a desire to listen, to learn, and to see the imago dei in one another.  I wonder if that’s the key to this whole thing:  seeing past the bitterness in our hearts and focusing on the image of God that dwells in one another.  Perhaps if we did that we could truly listen, learn, and transform the world

No comments:

Post a Comment