"Gladly, the Cross-Eyed Bear" aka “The Three ‘Bears’l

Organists are rare birds. As our own Phyllis Linn or Rae Ann Anderson can tell you, good organists are not only few and far between, but they also share wonderful jokes amongst themselves.

Sometimes, when we hear hymn and song texts, our ears can deceive us. Many church musicians like to share corny jokes in the form of alternate or misheard hymn titles. So I decided to ask the FB Organists Association, who were happy to send me some of their favorite hymn bloopers:

-“Come for Tea, My People” (Comfort Ye, My People)

-“We believe in being honest, true, chased by elephants." (The Thirteenth Article of Faith)

-What is Andy doing there in the garden, anyway? “Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me”

-“Lead On, O Kinky Turtle”

-“The cattle are blowing the baby away.” (Away in A Manger)

-and for Christmas, the line in “The Angel Gabriel” = “most highly flavored gravy”

-“While shepherds washed their socks by night “

…and my personal favorite — “Gladly, the Cross-Eyed Bear.” 

“Gladly” can sit here as a reminder that Words can play tricks on us.  We hear the same word side by side and it may have slightly or entirely different meanings. Language is important, but not always perceived in the same way.

This morning I would like to talk about three different ways we can bear the cross.  (Four, if you count Gladly here).

But first, let’s unpack the Gospel lesson we just heard. 

There they are, James and John walking together with Jesus. It’s a weird proposition — “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”  Kind of presumptuous, don’t you think?  And if it weren’t addressed to Jesus I would almost suspect it was a trick question.  What’s Jesus supposed to say?  If it were up to me, I’d say “Suuure, I’ll do anything you ask.” But that’s just me, and  I’m not as smart as Jesus.  Instead, he answers them with a question. “What is it you want me to do for you?” “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in Your glory.”  First lesson learned: Never say yes to such a question

Jesus knew that James and John had absolutely no clue what they were asking, and tells them so. When He asks them, “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I was baptized with?” Not knowing what they were really getting into, they’re like, “Yeah, yeah, sure.. We are able.” 

So we, too, must be careful.  For instance , when we baptize — we are asked questions like, “PoG, do you promise to support these sisters and brothers and pray for them in their life in Christ?” and we answer, “We do, and we ask God to help and guide us.”  

In passages like this, we learn that we need to KNOW, to the best of our limited knowledge, what it is we are asking of as well as promising to God. Although we act in faith — and  there are a lot of unknowns —we are still responsible for what we DO know. If we have the daunting task of taking up the cross before us, we’d better have some idea of what we’re getting into.

So Jesus continues, saying, “Okay.  You will drink the cup that I will drink, and be baptized with the baptism of which I am baptized, BUT…to sit at my RH or at my left is not for me to decide. God has already taken care of this,” says Jesus.  

At this point all the disciples get a bit angry with James and John. Jesus smashes the prevailing hierarchy to bits.   “You know that the great rulers around here are tyrants and keep those below them under their thumb. But that’s not what we’re about here. Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.  For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Drinking the cup, sharing His baptism, we are also invited to share in Jesus’ suffering, to carry the cross.  In effect, Jesus is asking, “Are you willing to walk in my shoes?” asking us to leave ourselves behind and concern ourselves with those around us. 

People will often say things like, “Well, that is my cross to BEAR (same spelling).”  But that sounds passive, that sounds like, “Well, I’ll just have to deal with it, this is the pain that I am stuck with.”  But Jesus tells us, “TAKE up your cross DAILY” — it is an active challenge to us all.  In order to TAKE up something, we need to make a decision.  Now, this is not the same as making a decision for Christ.  Christ already made a decision FOR US. Therefore, we are already IN Christ. But, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer points out in “The Cost Of Discipleship,” this is not cheap, but costly grace. We are still faced with a choice every day — whether or not to dare to go outside of ourselves and our own comfort zone and TAKE up the cross of Christ.  Every day.. Each day brings new challenges.

Second form... I think of the verb “to BEAR,” which means “to give birth.”  And I think of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who was given her own cross even before her son arrived on this earth — and that was to actually CARRY him in her womb.  When we hear her Magnificat we hear of her willingness to BEAR the very cross of Christ — “My Soul does magnify the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. For He who is mighty has done great things, and holy is his Name.”  

We, too bear, or birth the Cross every day, as, what Martin Luther calls, “little Christs” in this world. We bear the cross in the world by proclaiming the Good News.  As we walk the talk,  people can’t help but see that we are followers of Christ.  Just as one couldn’t help but see Mary’s pregnant belly as she was with child, we too, can be so full of the Holy Spirit and the good news of the Gospel as we bring it forth — birth it — to others. (New moms example)

Yet we, as residents of this world, sometimes find ourselves in situations where we are truly in the midst of our own suffering, or perhaps we see a lot of turmoil around us. While it’s so easy to get drawn into darkness, we remember and re-member and BARE (homonym) - reveal, show - B-A-R-E the Cross even as we bare our souls to others.  We take that risk and become vulnerable, in spite of our brokenness.

This is where the rubber hits the road.  This is where we find ourselves this day.  World Hunger Sunday.  We take risks when we forget ourselves and put others first. When we see someone at the intersection carrying a cardboard sign -  (“Will work for food” “Homeless and hungry” “Help me get my wife back”) — those signs are symbols of have THEIR “crosses.”   When we see these signs, sometimes our minds race. We come up with all kinds of excuses.  The light’s gonna change.  Oh man, this guy’s gonna get run over if he doesn’t get out of the road.

Well, who is it that really needs to get out of the road?  Maybe WE need to get out of our OWN road.  Maybe WE need to put ourselves last, and not second-guess the Holy Spirit.

Many times, I try to rationalize things. The skinny young woman outside the Wawa, asking very politely for a handout.  “Ok, maybe when I come back I’ll have some change, ” I say.  “I don’t have any cash right now.”  Silently I hope that maybe she’ll move on while we’re in there getting our coffee.  “Oh, maybe I could buy her a sandwich, but who knows if that’s what she really wants anyway.  Probably not. She probably wants money.  And she’ll buy more meth with that.  Or other drugs. Or alcohol. Aww, forget about it.”

Well.  People of God, guess what?  What she will do with that money has already been decided — by the same God who already arranged where James and John will be sitting on that day of glory.  And it’s not about sitting on thrones. That entire exchange is about the Ultimate Exchange — through Christ’s redemptive sacrifice on the cross, crucified between two THIEVES on either side of Him. the Suffering Servant we hear about in Isaiah, the hymn we so often sing in Lent:  

When I survey the wondrous cross, On which the Prince of Glory died

My richest gain I count but loss, And POUR CONTEMPT on all my pride.

“All my pride.” When confronted by someone in need, we can’t presume to do the work of the Holy Spirit.  We can’t translate the message of the Spirit into our own version of God’s will.  It’s the Holy Spirit’s job to tug at your heart.  It’s the Spirit’s job to make you feel uncomfortable, and to stir you enough to reach out to someone else.  To put ourselves last. 

Our job is to act in response to the Spirit,  not to second-guess —  Go with the first thing you hear, don’t make it up on your own terms. If God says feed the hungry - go feed the hungry.  Clothe the naked, go to the thirsty, give them drink.  Make disciples. Baptize them in Jesus name.  We show up and do whatever it takes because we are God’s hands in this world, acting on behalf of the One who gave Himself for all of us.

Finally, What’s the name of our bear again?  “GLADLY — the cross-eyed bear,  We are to bear our cross gladly because we love the One who loved us first, without ever thinking of himself.  “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.”  

How about you?  What can we do?  Be vulnerable. Take that risk. Throwing aside all weight, let’s put ourselves last and follow in Jesus’ footsteps, sharing His Baptism, sharing His cup - gladly.  AMEN 

Of Dryers and Divorce (preached at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, October 7, 2018)

“Of Dryers and Divorce”

     What a week this has been! You could hear the noise for months — from a low rumble to a dull roar.  But anyway, it had been noisy for months.  I had grown to almost be comforted by that rumbling noise. To me, it meant things were at least working.  Then, out of nowhere.,,

Our dryer had finally given up the ghost.  My only warning was that ever-so-slightly high-pitched squeak that made me sure the belt had broken but it all went out the window when I saw the repairman’s face…. The question is, would it be better to replace the dryer or keep it and get it fixed? 

That’s what happens when we practice deferred maintenance - not attending to those subtle or not-so-subtle signals that warn us something is about to go. That’s what happens when we don’t attend to things right away. Brokenness.  While I considered this topic, I soon came to realize that the dryer wasn’t the only thing that had broken.  In our house, malfunctions seem to come in groups.  The toaster-convection oven that promised to cook and air fry everything under the sun suddenly wouldn’t turn on. The week before we had a broken toilet, my SmartWatch stopped charging itself, and of course the car’s maintenance light had to turn on in the meantime.  First world problems.  
     It’s always something. And usually it’s easily remedied by getting it fixed. Once something is fixed, we feel energized, ready to face the world again, unfettered and unencumbered by that weight of uncertainty.

Other things are not as easy to fix.  At least not by ourselves.  It’s hard at times to even acknowledge something is wrong, let alone call for help, until we get close to rock bottom, when all we are left with is the sound of our own voice, shouting as blind Bartimaeus did, “Jesus, Son of God, have pity on me!”

I think I yelled that phrase myself a lot this week, for a number of reasons. my gadgets and appliances notwithstanding.  I wrestled with this Gospel passage “with fear and trembling,” as Paul says. You may not believe this, but I took over 20 pages of notes.  If I had to be brutally honest,  I’d say that this is probably at the top of my “List of Things I Wish Jesus Had Never Said.”  Like it or not,  your minds have been on the “D-word” since I read it to you a few moments ago.  Once we hear the word “divorce,” everyone has their own story or movie in their head. Here’s one of my own.

It was the summer of 1999 and our children were young.  We had just moved back to Philadelphia after four years of living in Germany and both my husband I were heading back to work.  He found a job teaching German at Immanuel Lutheran School on Cottman Avenue, and I resumed my work with Opera Philadelphia and was hired as Music Director at a Baptist church nearby.  At that church, we met Joan, an older woman in the choir and soon became fast friends.  In no time at all she offered to watch the kids for us while I had evening opera rehearsals and Todd was traveling.  We had come up with some sort of arrangement but she never wanted to get paid.  This was perplexing and a bit frustrating. We wanted to pay her for her services, but she continually refused.  She would say, “You have all become my family now.  I don’t have anyone anymore.  I lost my parents. I have been praying to find a family for a long long time.  I’ve been living alone.”

It is not good for anyone to be alone.

Joan wasn’t always alone, however.  It turns out she was a retired dance teacher who had her own teaching studio for years, right near where the Office Max is today on Cottman, across from the Four Seasons Diner.  She would tell story after story about her then “boyfriend” Joe, who had proposed to her, and the fun they had together going ballroom dancing all over the city.  She would tell these joyful stories while the children were around.

But at night, after the kids had gone to bed and I gave her a ride home, Joan would pour out her heart to me.  She confessed to feeling very lonely, and there was a tinge of bitterness in her voice.  She told me that Joe had proposed to her, and they were even engaged to be married, but one day she discovered the truth — a truth that had her devastated.  Joe had previously been married.  And the church Joan was raised in did not allow anyone to marry someone who was divorced.  There wasn’t any wavering or debate.  She told him no, they could not marry, and immediately broke their engagement.  

This was all based on the Gospel passage we read today.   This piece of the Law is so unlike anything Jesus affirms, says or does in the rest of Mark, let alone any of the other Gospels. This text has been used, time and time again, in hurtful, damaging ways by the Church.

Somehow, I cannot picture Jesus shaking his head at Joan - or anyone -  saying, “Sorry, you’re doomed to live your life alone because Joe was previously married.”   Yet still today, many are turned away from receiving the Lord’s body and blood at the Eucharist because of their marital status.  It is heartbreaking. 

But listen closely to what is actually happening here.  The Pharisees ask Jesus - to test him — “is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”  Jesus, somewhat suspicious of the way they ask the question (“is it lawful for A MAN” - for who?  That’s like those FB posts that say “asking for a friend”), turns it around and answers them, “What did Moses command YOU?”  He applies it to their personal situation (since he knows they are likely asking the question on their own behalf).  They answer “correctly,” “Moses allowed A MAN to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.”  But Jesus said to them, “Because of YOUR hardness of heart he wrote this commandment FOR YOU.”

For you. As Martin Luther says, we are to read the Bible not by letting Scripture interpret us, but by interpreting Scripture through our lens, applying the Word to our situation, taking the words that are intended — FOR US.

What is intended FOR US concerning divorce is God’s ideal.  What Jesus is saying here is “IF it were up to God, there would be NO divorce.”

But life in the first century was hard, let alone life since time began, and divorce became a man-made institution which in most cases marginalized women and children even further. In those days, divorce was as good as a death sentence for a woman. She couldn’t just land on her feet and get a job of her own.  Often such women were sold into slavery or prostitution.  Others who stayed in the marriage continued to be abused, and sadly, not much has changed today in many cases. It is highly likely that  Jesus reiterated this law in order to protect women from abuse in his time.

Indeed, it is not good for a person to be alone. If we, regardless of our history, find ourselves alone and were to meet a companion who brings us joy, I don’t think Jesus would begrudge us, but would rejoice with us as Adam did when God introduced his helper, Eve, to him.  Adam said, “This at last is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh:”

      Helper. This particular Hebrew word (etzer) is not meant to sound subservient.  There is no such word in English exactly. This word for helper is the same word used for God throughout the Bible, primarily the Psalms.  The only time it is applied to another person is here, in Genesis 2.  God takes our helpers, our companions, and our spouses seriously and we should too.  We are to care for each other and all our creation.

When we look at creation, we are compelled to cry out as the Psalmist did — “Oh Lord, our Lord how majestic is Your Name in All the Earth!!” We respond to God’s creation with that sense of wonder.  The very fact that we are created means that we are essential to God.

God, who created order out of chaos, who created us in God’s image. 

Do we know what God looks like? Since the text doesn’t specifically tell us, it’s counterproductive to try and conjure up an image.  We have to feel the force of being told that we are formed in the image of God, who loves us, cares for us, knows, and gives us everything we need. 

So after a few days, I made up my mind about that dryer.  For a German girl, I’m not too thrifty, but there must be a vestigial thrifty bone in my body somewhere, because I opted to apply the service consultation fee toward the repair and get the broken dryer fixed rather than buy a new one.

That’s just how I am. I don’t throw things away.  Ask my husband, who might call me a hoarder.  But before I go on, I just want to speak again to the act of caring for our creation.  We live in a throwaway society.  It’s often much easier and more convenient to dispose of things we don’t need rather than to fix, reuse, and repurpose them.  But there is a lot to be said about caring for creation as well as tending our relationships.

This is not meant to sound boastful, but my husband and I have been together for 29.5 years and we can both tell you that in our marriage, many repairs have taken place over that time.  Too many to be counter — more like an old car than that dryer.  Thank God for duct tape!  Don’t think our minds haven’t gone to that dreaded D-word. Divorce touches all of us in one way or another.  It represents the pain of two people being one flesh, then torn asunder.  It is excruciating pain.

But God knows that pain.  God, too, was torn from Godself the moment His Son died on the cross. Because of that mighty act, there is freedom in that pain.  It started at creation. 

That freedom is our forgiveness. We need to remember and accept that forgiveness — not in order to get it, but in order to partake of the comfort and consolation it provides for us so that we can move on in life as we remain in close relationship with our God.

Just as I thought “that dryer belt MUST be the problem,” sometimes the things we think are important are not the real issues. Sometimes we are sure we know what the problem is, only to be surprised that it’s something else entirely. It may cause us to do things differently or unexpectedly.  

After the confrontation with the Pharisees, Jesus was angry with the disciples, who, acting as power brokers, wanted to turn away the people who were bringing the children to him.. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out and touches them, takes them up in his arms, and blesses them, as if to say, “That’s enough of that,  THIS (children) is the REAL thing.  This — is the Kingdom of God!”

Can’t you just feel the joy, the laughter at the end of this passage?  That’s hope. Hope that binds up brokenness. We know that hope is always working because God is still in the creation business today as part of God’s promise to us.

Be blessed.  Be good to yourselves, and good to each other.  Tend your relationship with God and with one another.  Remember - You are God’s beloved children.  AMEN.