GOD’S PRIORITIES

Last night we had a whopping fifteen people at our First Annual Game Night. I didn’t know how much competition we were up against – vacation week, a couple of big dinners around town, the UConn game. . . but all I remember thinking was thanks be to God that we didn’t schedule it on Superbowl Sunday. . . which reminds me of the story of a young man who won tickets to this year’s game. His excitement turns to disappointment when he discovers that his seat is so far back, he might’ve been better off looking at the game on T.V. He decides to see if there are any empty seats closer to the front, spots one and approaches the elderly man sitting next to it. “Excuse me. Is this seat taken?” “No,” the man replies. Amazed, the young man blurts out, “How could someone pass up such a great seat?” The older gentleman replies, “That was my wife’s seat. We’ve been to every Superbowl since the day we were married, but she has passed away.” “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that . . . but couldn’t you find a friend or relative to come with you?” “No,” says the older man, glancing at his watch. “They’re all at the funeral.”

It’s all about priorities! Over the last three years, Jesus has made it a priority to teach his disciples. Although they have spent a lot of time listening to, and learning from him, their reactions to his most recent teaching suggest that they don’t quite get it. Consider what happened during a conversation six days ago. In one breath, Peter correctly states that Jesus is the Messiah. In the next breath, he rebukes Jesus for saying that, as the Messiah, he must be rejected, suffer, be killed and after three days rise again. Peter has a revelation of who Jesus is, but he doesn’t yet understand what that involves.

Fast forward to another conversation several days later . . . Jesus has just told the disciples – for the third time – that “the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.” (Mk. 10:33)

Although language can’t get any plainer than that, James and John approach Jesus with a now-you’ll-know-we-really-don’t-get-it request. When Jesus asks what they want him to do for them, they tell him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand, and one at your left – in your glory.” (Mk. 10: 37). How easy it is to hear only what one wants to hear!

But there’s good news in both of these incidents. Here are three people – each with his unique history, personality and habits, who all share this in common: even though each of them has spent a considerable amount of time with Jesus, none of them understands him. That may sound like bad news until we consider the fact that Jesus still wants them around. As messed up, as imperfect, as selfish as they are, Jesus does not give up on them. So those of us who don’t get it, are messed up, imperfect or selfish can be assured that Jesus doesn’t give up on us.

So Jesus offers these three messed up people the privilege of accompanying him to the mountaintop. Mountaintops are those wonderful, awesome places nearest to heaven –places which the Israelites often associate with God’s presence, revelation and glory. Remember when Moses came down from Mt. Sinai after talking with God? He’s carrying the tablets with the Ten Commandments, and his face is shining – like some of God’s glory rubbed off on him. The Israelites are afraid to come near him until he convinces them it’s okay. In the end, he has to cover his face with a veil whenever he comes back from talking with God (Exod. 34:29-35).

When Peter, Jesus, James and John reach the top of the mountain, only one of them is transfigured – only one of them is revealed as the Son of God. His clothes become dazzling white, and the reaction of the disciples – like the reaction of the Israelites who recognized that Moses was talking with God – is fear – not the kind of blood curdling fear that one gets from a cheap horror movie, but the holy fear that comes from an acute awareness of in whose presence one is standing.

God’s voice from the cloud confirms the disciples’ sense: “This is my son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Listen to him! When was the last time you listened, really listened to him? Listening to him can be a dangerous thing. We might hear some things we’d prefer not to hear. Things such as:

Why do you spend time obsessing about things over which you have no control? Trust me.
Why do you think I love others more than you? I love no one more – or less – than you.
Why do you avoid suffering like the plague? Let me show you how suffering and death can lead to resurrection.

Nowadays many folks are taught an SDT – a Sugar Daddy Theology – God is a Sugar Daddy – there to give them what they need, want, desire, and wish to acquire. So they don’t know what to do with an SDRT – a Suffering, Death, and Resurrection Theology. When suffering and death come into their lives, they get mad at God. God’s not playing fair. So they stomp out of God’s life and try to find another Sugar Daddy (or Mommy).
They won’t enter into suffering on their own behalf, much less on behalf of others. But being a part of God’s vision for a just and loving world always involves some measure of suffering.

Every year on this, the last Sunday after the Epiphany, Episcopalians are invited to celebrate World Mission Sunday – a day dedicated to increasing our awareness of, and participation in global mission. This year we are asked to focus on the ministry and mission of Anglican/Episcopal Women. In Shall We Gather: Anglican Women Together, a 2005 film documenting the Anglican Communion’s delegates to the 49th session of the U.N.’s Commission on the Status of Women, women from around the world shared their insights and experiences regarding the unjust systems in which most women live. For instance, women and girls are more likely to be victims of human trafficking, child labor, child prostitution and domestic violence. In Tanzania, girls often are too tired to do their school work because, in addition to the other chores, many of them have to walk several miles to a well, and then wait at least 2-3 hours to get one bucket of water. Lest we think this is just a so-called Third World issue, consider the fact that many women in comparable jobs earn less than their male counterparts – about 77 cents to the dollar. Those who choose to be a part of God’s vision for a just and loving world can expect to face some measure of suffering.

Many of us have heard it said that you can tell a person’s priorities by looking at his or her checkbook. . . and to that I add, by looking at his or her schedule. Leaving Epiphany and entering Lent invites those who would dare to listen to consider God’s priorities – and to examine our priorities in light of what we know of God’s priorities.

If our priority is to be comfortable without considering the comfort of the poor, then God’s challenging us.
If our priority is to hold on to our security blankets at the expense of risking investing in God’s vision, then God’s challenging us.
If our priority is to work our way into God’s heart instead of opening our hearts to God’s unconditional love, then God’s challenging us.

But suffering and death are not ends in and of themselves. Resurrection comes. Resurrection comes, often in unexpected ways and through unexpected people. So there’s a reason that Jesus commands the disciples to tell no one about his transfiguration until after his resurrection – he wants them to get the story straight. Yes, he is the Messiah. No, he is not the type of Messiah they think they want and need. Yes, there is a better way – a way that leads to peace, joy and fullness of life – but they will have to die to their former way of thinking if they are to embrace new life.

Because when we focus on the glory apart from the suffering –
Folks think that only those who seem to have it all together are loved by God.
Folks won’t believe that God really knows and cares about their own suffering.
Folks fail to see how God is able to bring good out of evil.

Two days ago, I officiated at the funeral of an 83-year-old woman. She was in the winter of her life, and her death was no real surprise to her family. Tomorrow morning, I am scheduled to officiate at the funeral of a 19-year-old woman. She was in the spring of her life, and her death was an awful surprise to her family – killed by a bullet to the back of her head. Why? We don’t know. We only know that her mother and grandmother pleaded with her not to hang out with a couple of newfound “friends.” We know she narrowly escaped death a few days earlier. We know she will never see the summer or fall or winter of her life.

On this World Mission Sunday, it is true that our mission field is our great, big world. But our mission field is also a small, bleeding city. As we journey into the season of Lent, how will we allow God’s priorities to guide our mission?