Wonder + Lent 2C + 2.24.13

-

Melissa Campbell-Langdell
All Santos
February 24, 2013
Lent 2 C (Gen. 15:1–12, 17–18; Ps. 27; Phil. 3:17–4:1; Luke 13:31–35)

In the film Labyrinth from 1986, as I recall from way before this Lent, there is a young woman, Sarah, who has to babysit her little brother.  And she is so incensed at the inconvenience that she says she would do anything if the little boy would disappear.  And a goblin king hears this and snatches up the baby, and Sarah searches and searches through a labyrinth, learning a lot about herself on the way, until she finally gets to the goblin king, who has her baby brother captive.  But as she gets closer, Sarah is drawn into a dreamlike scene where the goblin king would woo her to stay with him in a fairytale existence.  And Sarah manages to break it all with one simple thought: “you have no power over me.”[1]
Jesus may not have been talking to a goblin king in today’s gospel, but his message is clear.  You Herod, you fox (which we know might have meant he was sneaky, or smart or impotent),[2] you have no power over me!  You may have served up John the Baptist’s head on a platter, but you cannot stop what I’ve got.  Because I’m a Messiah on a mission.  I have people to heal and demons to cast out, and then, and only then, I am on my way.
Now in Labyrinth, Sarah has to learn selfless love in order to claim back her brother.  She must learn not to be entranced by the pretty things she wants or the fairytale story that she wants her life to be in order to make space in her life for her family, and especially for her little brother.  She must be willing to sacrifice for him.
And the amazing thing about the gospel is that it is clear that Jesus is so above all the power and petty politics that he really can write his own script (well of course) but he chooses to give his life.  He knows it is what he, as the Son of the Mother Hen God must do.[3]  This wondrous act of love. 
So another movie that I watched (before Lent) was Lincoln.[4]  Throughout the movie, what struck me most were the intimate moments that Lincoln shared with all variety of persons.  He might be having a deep conversation with the telegraph operator, or checking in with some soldiers.  He inspired by connecting. 
By being at others’ levels, even when that made him vulnerable, vulnerable to make the ultimate sacrifice.  Lincoln may have been no Jesus, but in his example, at least in this film, we see someone who had all sorts of power, but saw a bigger story, the story of the Kingdom.  In the film, he is in such urgency to pass the 13th amendment because he knows he is part of a bigger story.
And we are too.  We are part of the story of the skies that God showed to Abram so many years ago.  You and I are stars in that sky.  This story in Genesis came clear to me one day when I visited a synagogue in Budapest.  We had to walk through metal detectors to get into the synagogue, which looked like nothing much, a plain building, on the outside.  The metal detectors were because some anti-Semitic types sometimes tried to blow up synagogues.  Well, once we were inside the synagogue, our eyes were drawn to the ceiling, covered with a myriad of stars.  The rabbi told us that this painting was designed to re-create a bit of what Abram, later Abraham saw, God’s promise of a family so big it filled the heavens.  What a wonder! 
“One thing I asked of the Lord, that I will seek after: to live in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple (Ps. 27:4).” 
This Psalm talks about seeking to see the beauty of the LORD, and Abram saw it that day with God.  Jesus saw it in Jerusalem even though he knew the dark places his path led.
Because the path of the beauty-seeker is not free of darkness.  See Abram thrown to the ground, in a terrified sleep.  See Jesus see the terror and the beauty of his path ahead.  We will all see darkness.
And perhaps because of this, we are allowed to ask questions.  Thanks be to God, huh?  That we can ask questions.  Abram says, God, what good is your promise?  A boy who isn’t even my blood will be my heir.  And God says, “Just wait.”  And we are proof, each one of us, of the truth of that promise.  Each one of us is a star in that sky that was promised.  A beloved child of God.  The wonder of it.
So, fellow children of the Mother Hen God, brothers and sisters of Christ, we strive to be faithful, even though shadows might cross our paths.  We ask questions of God, because we have seen from Abraham that doubt and questions don’t mean a lack of faith, they mean an engaged faith.  Engagement like Lincoln sitting with the people, connecting with each and every one. 
God wants to connect that way with us, even if it means we ask questions about things we couldn’t possibly know about.  It’s possible that even Jesus had questions, but he kept the faith in God’s promises and kept on the path.  And we can keep wondering and keep on the path.  Because we Christians are wonderers, citizens of heaven.   And yet the fruitfulness that Abram saw in the skies was of a very earthly sort.  So let us keep feet on the ground, and yet hearts pointed heavenward, where our true citizenship is, grateful that the foxes of this world have no power over us.  Let us wonder in the beauty of God, because, thanks to the costly love of Jesus, we can wonder too, and spread a love that leaves the world wondering… what are those Christians all about, anyway?

[1] Labyrinth, 1986.  The reference to Lent is because I have sworn off movies apart from during Sundays during this Lent J.
[2] Leslie J. Hoppe, “Exegetical Perspective: Luke 13:31-35,” FOTW Year C, Vol. 2, 71.
[3] With thanks to Anne Howard, “Our Mother Hen God,” http://www.beatitudessociety.org/blog.
[4] Lincoln, 2012.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Faith or Fear? Advent 1C

-
Melissa Campbell-Langdell All Santos, Oxnard Year C + Advent 1 (Jeremiah 33:14–16; Ps. 25:1–9; 1 Thess. 3:9–13; Luke 21:25–36) So… what are you going to do when you stand before the man with the holes in his hands? Now that may seem like a strange question to ask this first Sunday in December.  Surely, Pastor Melissa, we’re gearing up for jollity, not getting ready to meet our maker? But in a sense we are, always, all the time, waiting for Jesus, and I think that’s what Advent is really all about.  Reminding us that we are always waiting not just for the Christ Child to come and be born in our midst, but that we are also waiting for that awesome, if slightly scary Second Coming of Christ. And it is true that this passage talks about distress and the roaring of the waves.  And many looked at the devastation caused by Hurricane Sandy, that iconic image of the ocean-side theme park, including a Ferris Wheel, in the waves, and many said, this is something w...
Read more

Proper 20 (B) + A community of power + 9.23.18

-
Image
M. Campbell-Langdell All Saints, Oxnard (Proverbs 31:10–31; Ps. 1; James 3:13–4:3, 7–8ª; St. Mark 9:30–37) Take a moment and think of the most powerful positive woman figure you know – in your life or in your favorite movie, show or book. Who is the woman who has most inspired you? Keep that image of that woman in mind as we look at this passage from Proverbs Chapter 31. Now here we see the verse “A capable wife who can find?” And all the feminists amongst us will be relieved to hear that a better translation from the Hebrew would be: “a woman of power” instead of a “capable wife.” [1] That changes things, doesn’t it? Then when we hear about this ideal ancient Hebrew woman’s exploits – her buying of lands, her trading prowess, her physical strength, even her domestic abilities such as weaving, and perhaps especially her kindness to the poor, we see strength and power in all of these. Of course, looking at this passage, this is not one woman but a concept of the most...
Read more

Proper21BAcceptingourownwounds29sept24

-
  Accepting our own and other’s wounds Mark 9: 38-50   St Michael’s, Isla Vista / All Saints Oxnard The Rev. Alene Campbell-Langdell; MCL additions   May I just start this morning by acknowledging that our Gospel reading is complex.   The images are startling (horrifying?) and the metaphors come almost too quickly to catch.   What is clear is that something serious is going on between Jesus and his disciples, and Jesus is using every means possible, including some pretty harsh language, to try to course correct.   To even begin to understand this passage, we need to back up to last week’s reading from Mark.   In that reading, the disciples are arguing with each other about who is the greatest and best disciple.   In response, Jesus gets a little kid, some commentators say “toddler,” and holds this child in his arms during the rest of the conversation.    The other part of the scene to keep in mind is that Jesus has just told...
Read more