Proper 17 C + When Things Go Terribly Wrong (ACL) + 8.30.26
When Things Go Terribly Wrong
Exodus 3, Psalm 26,
Romans 12, Matthew 16
All Saints Oxnard
The Rev. Alene Campbell-Langdell with the Rev. MCL+
What happens
when things go horribly, terribly wrong?
As I mentioned last week, one of the stops on our trip was at the
Cathedral of Kildare, Ireland. This is
the ancestral church of St Brigid. She
and the monks and nuns in her abbey were known as keepers of the sacred
flame. Long before St Brigid arrived
that particular site was seen as holy, and in an era before matches or
automatic lighters, keeping a flame alive for neighbors to bring coals to their
own homes was a sacred duty. St Brigid
dedicated the flame to Christ and kept it going. Through the centuries, despite the church
itself being destroyed multiple times, the community kept the flame alive until
King Henry VIII ordered it extinguished in the 16th century.
What happens
when things go horribly, terribly wrong?
Moses is going through it. Once a considered a prince in Egypt, now he
is in exile due to his albeit very aggressive actions on behalf of some Hebrews
being attacked, and he has gone from the Pharaoh’s court to sheepherding his
father in law’s flock in the hills. What’s more, his people are suffering. The
Israelites are being oppressed by the Egyptians and as we heard last week,
their lives are threatened on a regular basis. And God hears that all has gone
terribly wrong. God says to Moses when he encounters the burning bush: “I have
observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on
account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings… (Exodus 3:7).”
An
alternative psalm for today’s scriptures is Psalm 26, which begins: “Give
judgment for me, O Lord, for I have lived with integrity; I have trusted
in the Lord and have not faltered.” We don’t know what has happened that leads
to the complaint. Mary Elise Lowe
comments that “this psalm text may have been used in a ritual in the Jerusalem
temple by people who felt that they had been falsely accused of a sin or
crime.”[1] This
reminds me of a man I saw in the paper this pas Sunday, who had served many
years for a robbery gone wrong, although he was innocent. He is now free, but
lost that time with family and friends.
What happens
when things go horribly, terribly wrong?
What happens when you are trying your best to love God and neighbor and
still get accused of doing the wrong thing?
There is a strong impulse in moments like this towards anger towards God
or insistence on one’s own innocence in comparison with any and all around: “I do
not sit with the worthless, nor do I consort with hypocrites; I hate the
company of evildoers, and will not sit with the wicked” (Psalm 26:4-5). A note of caution should we be tempted to
mimic the Psalmist’s complaint: Our
faith tells us that people cannot be worthless.
No one for whom Christ died can ever be worthless. So perhaps this designation is more about
things and ideas rather than people.
There are certainly things that are not worth our time and ideas that
can and should be left to one side. Once
we have determined that an idea is not aligned with Christ’s love, we no longer
need to sit with or entertain it.
For our
final category of things going horribly, terribly wrong, we have Peter’s
experience. Peter has just received
divine revelation that he is literally standing in the presence of God’s
anointed one, the Son of God. And now,
the most sacred, holy person imaginable is saying clearly that he is going to
suffer and die at the hands of his own people’s leaders. How could God’s plan possibly involve the
destruction of all that seems most sacred?
The Israelites struggled to understand how God could let the physical
temple be destroyed. Here, before Peter,
is the living, breathing temple of God—God in human form. No wonder Peter declares, “This must never
happen to you!” (Matthew 16:22). Returning to our initial example, Moses
couldn’t have led them out of the wilderness with God’s help, only for this to
happen, surely?
At first
listen, Jesus’ response to Peter feels very harsh. Yet, it’s also very practical. Jesus names what Peter is saying as a very
human temptation. Satan is the
personification of temptation or accusation.
Peter has gotten so focused on the death that he totally missed what
Jesus said about resurrection. Our human
concerns about preserving life or sacred things run the risk of turning objects
into idols and keeping us from actually living life.
So, what are
we to do when things go terribly, horribly wrong? The surprising answer from Romans is “feed
your enemies” (Romans 12:20). There is,
of course, a much longer list in this chapter that Paul shares under the
heading of genuine love (literally un-hypocritical love). This is how you fight back against those
false accusations. This is how you
respond to persecution. Rejoice in
hope. Persevere. Be devoted in your prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, and
feed your enemies.
All of which
begs the question, “Who is my enemy?” Is
it just those who falsely accuse me or persecute me for something I said or
some characteristic of my identity?
Perhaps. Yet Paul is writing to
Christians at the heart of the Roman Empire.
Then, as now, individuals, groups, or nations might be declared “enemies
of the state.” The Roman Empire would
have had many such enemies. I was
fascinated when visiting Wales at the history of the many forts which line the
coast. Some were built to ward off the
Vikings. These were later repurposed and
others built to ward off the Irish, then in the 1100s, King Edward built the Ring
of Iron to protect the English from the Welsh themselves.
Yet,
regardless of who is defined as the enemy, the mandate remains the same: feed
them and give them something to drink.
The wicked and worthless idea that we must NOT sit with is the idea that
it is okay to mistreat someone simply because they have been declared an
enemy.
Death and
changes that can feel like death are part of life. False accusations will come and go. Cathedrals will be destroyed and built
again. New things can only arise when
the old is destroyed. Resurrection
cannot happen without death.
While I was
climbing the tower that was built as a refuge in times of war at St Brigid’s
Cathedral, Alene sat for a while in the now empty sacred fire pit at the side
of the tower. She wondered what it meant
to take refuge in a tower while your church home was destroyed, then rebuild
it, again and again and again. She
wondered at the faithfulness it took to keep rebuilding. As she sat in this sacred space, she prayed
for this community of faithful people who continue to share Christ’s light in
the ways that they know how, and the retreat center a few miles down the road
that has rekindled St Brigid’s flame.
Faithfulness
is our responsibility, and when we do that, we can trust God for the new life
that will surely follow.
[1]
Lowe, M.E. “Psalm 26:1-8: Theological Perspective” in Feasting on the Word:
Year A, Volume 4. Eds: David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. (Westminster
John Knox Press, 2011). Accessed on
Kindle.
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