Corrupt Generations

One phrase that jumps out of today's scripture is "save yourselves from this corrupt generation". Peter preached this as part of his Pentecost sermon, and it resonated with his listeners. How many of us feel like we are living in the midst of a corrupt generation? With stories about some grocery store chains adding the meat packaging when they calculate the price of chicken thighs, or the government rejecting recommendations for constituency boundaries for the next election, or Canada Revenue Agency being scammed for millions of dollars, who wouldn't want to be saved from a corrupt culture? Peter’s audience sure did.

Peter’s solution? Repentance, baptism and commitment to a life of discipleship. Baptism was free to everyone, no strings attached. And of course, that was just the start. Baptism welcomed the new disciples into a big, vibrant conversation about faith, God, and personal and cultural transformation.

Peter invited them to be transformed as he had been transformed. Peter had witnessed his beloved leader going through the farce of an unjust trial where the decision was made by a court more interested in political popularity than justice and fairness. And Peter ran away, afraid for his life. Then he hid behind locked doors, anxiously wondering when his arrest and execution would happen. The transformation from coward to leader was unexpected and he attributed it to his Easter experiences of the Risen Christ like some disciples had on the road to Emmaus.

Unexpected transformation can come in many ways. It can be dramatic and instant like Mary and Salome finding the tomb empty. It can be quiet and slow like on an eleven-kilometer walk as described in our gospel reading today. That's not a five-minute stroll down to the mailbox!

Today we're most likely to experience a long journey with a stranger by carpooling to an event or taking a bus tour or airplane trip, but back then folks were expected to travel to Jerusalem for Passover. And unless they were rich or had mobility issues or were pregnant, they didn't use donkeys. Donkeys were a luxury, not for regular people. And regardless of how you travel, a stranger traveling with you can be the worst thing or the best thing for such a long trip. Like astronauts flying around the moon and back for days in a tiny space with a broken toilet, the time spent together can be transformative. Just as Jeremy Hansen said in their recent press conference, the astronauts now have become good friends and also have new perspectives and hope for the future.

The disciples picked up a hitchhiker and had no idea what was coming.  They discovered that the more they talked to the stranger, the more surprised they were at his ignorance of current affairs, and then amazed at his thorough knowledge of scripture.  They were trying to figure out what had happened.  Was Jesus resurrected?  Was it a hoax?  Was it a hallucination? They weren’t sure.  But they called themselves disciples, and although they are not a part of the official list of 12, they too had followed Jesus, they too had learned his teachings, they too, knew his methods of thinking through complex issues.  And they too knew what disciples of Jesus were called to do.

Disciples are called to test the insights and ideas that come their way.  They are to ask questions.  They are to explore the scriptures, the sacred texts, not as a law book with rules and regulations, but as a road map that may need some redrawing from time to time.  Like astronauts seeing the world from a different angle, scriptures help change our viewpoint.  And scripture helps us explore what God is calling us to through conversation, through logic, through experience.  The disciples said, “this is what we experienced, this is what we know, the tomb is empty.  This is what others are saying.  Now stranger, help us understand what is happening.  Help us make sense of our upside-down world. Help us understand this corrupt generation and how we are being called by God to respond.”

Notice that they didn’t get their full answer until they practiced that first, fundamental Christian discipline of offering hospitality to the stranger.  It was only after they invited him to stay and eat with them that the revelation of who he was transformed them.  It was only when their simple meal of bread and wine was turned into the sacrament of sharing abundance that Jesus had practiced with them that they realized his true identity. This revelation transformed them so much that they ran back the 11 kilometers in the dark to testify to the disciples that Easter was real, Jesus was risen! Transformation was possible, both for individuals and for their corrupt generation that had murdered an innocent man.

Some will say that our generation is not corrupt.  And yet the Guardian newspaper reported this week that the world’s largest oil companies are making more than $30 million an hour in excess profits. Exxon will earn an extra 11 billion, Shell will get 6.8 Billion, and Chevron 9.2 billion if the price continues. The Alberta Government is dismissing the non-partisan report on where to draw political boundaries, and they are excited about new legislature that will protect children from pornography in public libraries while cutting grants to family violence programs.  Now I don’t know about you, but I have never seen a copy of Playboy on the magazine shelves, nor have I ever seen 10 year olds sneaking blue videos out of the libraries, or librarians gleefully lending 12 year olds piles books on how to make money as a sex worker.  Our definitions of what a corrupt generation is may vary from church to church, but we are all called to be disciples that are transformed away from exploitation and manipulation to justice and compassion.

Peter called us to turn from a corrupt generation, by repenting, remembering our baptism, celebrating God’s presence, welcoming strangers, feeding the hungry, comforting the lonely, and being open to new encounters with Jesus when we gather together in the breaking of bread, the celebrating of communion, and the gathering of disciples to celebrate Jesus, crucified and risen, our judge and our hope. In Life, in death, in life beyond death, He is risen, halleluiah!

Quietly shaken or alarmed

I’ll never forget eating supper at Naramata Centre in our kitchenette.  It was our first time there at this marvelous United Church family camp and the children were quite small.  We were eating dessert when I saw red smeared all over the wall behind the dining table.  It was surprising and I was uncertain where it was coming from.  It was too thin to be blood, but I grabbed a washcloth and cleaned it up easily.  I made sure neither of my children were bleeding, but they were both in perfect health.  I sat back down to have some more dessert then looked again.  More red on the wall! Got out the washcloth, wiped the wall, sat down again, and watched my children like a hawk.

Our dessert was freshly hand-picked cherries that we had harvested from the orchard. Amber, not quite 2 years old, was biting a cherry then fingerpainting the wall with the juice on her fingers!

I don’t remember how I reacted other than cleaning her hands as well as the wall and moving the cherries away from her.  Not just to limit her artwork, but also because too many cherries can cause havoc on our digestive systems.  Having self-control around cherries is hard!

I admire the self-control Jesus exhibited in this story of the Sadducees.  If we read all of Luke 20, we would hear the religious scholars testing Jesus with conundrums and puzzles.  Paying taxes, John the Baptist’s ritual in the Jordan River, and more.  This question about seven marriages was a mental experiment, rather like the more famous Schrodinger’s Cat in a box.  It was also a very divisive topic between the Sadducees and the Pharisees, subject of a vigorous.  They pulled Jesus into the debate, suggesting a ridiculous scenario that the Sadducees thought would end any discussion of an afterlife.  It reads oddly to our current culture, this is not seven brides for seven brothers, but one bride.  If we look at it from the culture of Deuteronomy, we can understand it better.  The world of Deuteronomy was one of tough survival where the tribe was the focal point of every individual’s identity.  And with no rrsps, tffs or pension plans, widows could be in danger of starving to death.  The patriarchal culture didn’t help either.  With a male-centric society, being disconnected from a male family member to protect her was dangerous for a widow.  So, they came up with Levirate marriage which was designed to protect widows and ensure every male ended up with a male heir to inherit their estate and continue the tribe’s existence.  I’m very glad it is no longer a part of Canadian society.  It does exist in other parts of the world where there is a high level of mortality in both adults and children as well as a patriarchal culture.

But this was meant to be a trick question with an obvious answer.  The Sadducees expected Jesus to say that the wife would obviously not be married to anyone because an afterlife is ridiculous.  The Pharisees hoped Jesus would somehow find a way out of the trap.  Jesus said in effect that the riddle was focusing on the wrong question.  God’s children do not concern themselves with who possesses what, or who is married or who belongs to another.  Ownership, entitlement, even sex is not what God’s children should be focused on.

And God’s children are not to worry about fads, fashions and alarmists who only promote emotional reactions to life’s challenges.  2 Thessalonians says, “don't become easily agitated or disturbed by some prophecy, report or letter falsely attributed to us… Let no one deceive you, in any way. Stick to the traditions you received from us, either by word of mouth or by letter.”

Easier said than done.  It’s hard to know who to trust when we get bombarded by scammers who phone or text us out of the blue. How do we know what to believe any more? The United Church has inherited a simple tool that has been around for a long time, with roots in Greek philosophy and Hebrew faith.  It is to use logic, experience, history and faith to discern what is best.  It generally works well.  Logic is a good first step.  Learning from others’ experiences as well as our own is important too – I hear that people get texts claiming to be me asking them to send a money order and I never do that.  Sharing this experience can help keep people safe. 

History both personal and global is also important.  Orhan Pamuk wrote a book about a fictional Cholera epidemic in Turkey and how that was written before Covid 19, yet it was very predictive of how Covid 19 impacted our society because he knew his history. 

Logic, experience, history and faith can help us unravel tricky issues like Jesus did with the Sadducee puzzle.  They can help us build our resilience in times of challenge and unravel complex issues.  They can help us look at situations more calmly, and they can help us develop self-control instead of being constantly shaken and alarmed as Thessalonians describes.

If self-control is a gift of God, it can challenge how we look at others and ourselves.  This is at the heart of the debate around homelessness in Athabasca, for example.  We are not scared of people who are currently experiencing temporary housing shortage, but we are very nervous about mentally ill folks who act impulsively or illogically.  If we look at them as people who have poorly developed self-regulation, will we have more compassion and understanding of them? People assume that everyone has self-control.  But the more we learn about neurodiversity, addictions and the brain, the more we must challenge that assumption.  Recovering alcoholics and addicts say that only when they let go of the delusion of their self-control can they find their Higher Power helping them grow real self-control.

The Good news is that self-control can be grown with patience and understanding, no matter our age or our neurodiverse brains.  It is a gift that is free for the asking.  My daughter no longer paints with cherry juice on the kitchen wall.  She has learned to paint on canvases, the bigger the better! She has also learned to eat cherries with self-control.  Jesus modelled self-control, nurturing it in himself and others and we can too, with faith, hope and kindness as our guide.  Thanks be to God for these gifts of the Spirit at work in our lives!

“Homestead” by Amber Rosborough, 2022 in mixed media, not cherry juice!

Sunrise moments

I know a friend who starts his day watching sunrises.  He drinks his first coffee watching the sun slowly come up above the horizon and flood the world with warmth and light.  

The last few days, I have been doing the same, going out with Tim’s camera and using it to capture the moment the sky slowly lightened up.  It was a time of stillness, but the squirrel started to scamper along the branches, the birds began to chirp, the geese flew overhead, and the clouds went from dark grey to soft warm pinks and golds.  They varied from one morning to the next, and they happen so slowly and gradually that it seemed like nothing had changed until there it was, the sun, and the day had begun.

Sometimes we feel caught in a perpetual nighttime of the soul, or a dull greyness of the pre-dawn cold morning.  When do we get to wake up, go outside and really know that the light has dawned, a new day has arrived, and new hopes and possibilities are just around the corner?

When the two Marys and Salome went out to the tomb, they had everything planned out.  They had traditions to follow, they had expectations of what they would do and what they would bring, they had a list. They had no idea what their day was going to bring.  

They needed the traditions that gave them clear direction on what to do.  They were dealing with the trauma of having seen their beloved leader tortured and executed.  Maybe they came as a group because one of them would train the others on what to do.  Maybe they came as a group because they needed each other’s support.  Whatever the reason, they didn’t get what they expected.  They didn’t have a decomposing body or the ripe stench of the tomb.  They didn’t have to wash the corpse of their leader and smear myrrh over him as they wept at the marks of torture.  Instead, they were bewildered and confused by what they found, terrified even, by this unexpected turn of events.  They had no idea of what the empty tomb meant.  They had no wise theologians or biblical scholars to explain what happened.  So, they ran.  

We might wish we could run from what we are experiencing now.  We are in the midst of terrible times, where we don’t know where to turn for trustworthy and safe news.  Where we long for the ‘good old days.’ Where all we can imagine is going back to the way life was over a year ago.  Where we wish the gloom of this not-quite sunrise, this not-quite easter would become a full, glorious turning back the clock and getting back to normal.

We’re tired of keeping on.  We’re tired of waiting for good news, we’re tired of isolation.  And we’re wondering when this will all end.  We are in a difficult place.

One of my favorite stories of ordinary people in difficult places is from the Lord of the Rings By J R R Tolkien.  Sam Gamgee, a gardener and cook, is half-way up a mountain with his friend Frodo, and it feels like they will never see the sun again.  Into that time of despair, he tells Frodo: 

It’s like in the great stories Mr. Frodo.

The ones that really mattered.

Full of darkness and danger they were,

and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end.

Because how could the end be happy?

How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened.

But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow.

Even darkness must pass.

A new day will come.

And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer.

Those were the stories that stayed with you.

Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t.

Because they were holding on to something. 

That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

What are we holding onto?  What good will we find if we go to our Galilee? Will we watch the sunrise and see things in a new light?  Will we find our trauma and grief transformed into an energy and enthusiasm that would not stop for any reason, the way it did for Mary and Peter and the rest?

We know the rest of their great story.  We know that many of Jesus’ followers had an experience beyond words, beyond understanding, that pulled them from despair and grief into action and joy.  They found themselves living in new hope, in new ways of being.  They could not go back to the old ways, the old traditions.  They went forward with courage and resilience and love into an unimaginable future.

Even in the midst of Mordor, Sam knew that the sun would rise.  In the midst of the first Easter, faced with the empty tomb, the women knew that something had changed beyond description or understanding, that the sun would rise over Lake Galilee.  In the midst of our own challenging times, we know that things will be different one day.  We know that God has been with us when we least expected it, in the call of a friend, in an unexpected postcard or phone call, in the geese flying overhead, in the sunrises that flood our lives with new vision and new hope.  Our lives will be changed, just like the women at the tomb, and they will be changed in ways we least expect it.  Let us stay ready and open for God to flood our lives with the light of new faith, and new lives of unexpected beauty and joy.  Let us remember that God can plant sunrises of hope and faith in our lives.  In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us, we are not alone.  Halleluiah!

(sunrise photos M. Rosborough, March 2021 from the church steps)