Sunday, April 7, 2019

Bethany Tableau


5 Lent, April 7, 2019
St. Paul’s Lynnfield, Massachusetts
The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling


It’s good to be with you again this morning here at St. Paul’s in Lynnfield! Before I begin my sermon, I’d like to thank you for your prayers and support this past week. For those of you who were not here last Sunday, I spoke about the premature births of my daughter Megan’s and her husband Josh’s fraternal twin boys. After spending this past week in Minnesota with them, I’m happy to report that both Peter and Nathaniel, at 3 weeks old, continue to be stable, and growing in their health and strength, albeit not without some challenges. So, like Father Rob, who is recovering from total knee surgery, and spends his days growing in health and strength as well, I am grateful for my own opportunities for growth each and every day, and for your continued prayers.
            My daughter Megan and Josh have a black lab puppy named Izzy, who, like Father Rob and the twins, is learning to grow in her own ways. She is clearly motivated by food and will do almost anything to get some. In addition to basic training, Josh has taught her various tricks, like sitting, pawshaking, twirling, and waiting patiently for her dinner. Waiting patiently is, of course, a spiritual discipline. In addition to eating, Izzy also likes to play, and sees everyone as a potential playmate. Not everyone, however, is interested in being her friend.
            One afternoon, Josh and Megan were in their backyard playing with Izzy when another dog-owner walked by with her dog. Seeing this dog, Izzy immediately bounded up to play. This “mean” dog, as my daughter would later call him, grabbed Izzy by the neck and forced her to the ground. Crying loudly, Izzy lay helpless until Josh arrived. Clearly this dog had very different intentions than Izzy. Given today’s gospel story, let’s call this dog Judas.
            In the morning, hoping to provide Megan and Josh with a little extra sleep, and waiting for them to get up, I would take Izzy out for a walk. Not looking back, but rather pressing forward towards her goal of finding playmates, she would pull me along on her leash. One morning I saw a large dog barreling down the path towards us from a distance. Not sure of her intentions, nervously, I turned Izzy around and headed the other way. Within seconds, a golden retriever was upon us. I was glad to see Izzy and her playmate jumping all over each other (and me) in playful devotion. I delighted in their joy. Given today’s gospel story, let’s call this dog Mary.
Every day we would go to the NICU to see the twins. At the hospital, there are many people who serve in various ways: doctors, nurses, nutritionists, pharmacists, food and cleaning services, volunteers and paid employees. Patiently, indeed prayerfully, I would wait by the twins’ bedsides, trying to control my impulses to get up and eat, even though I wasn’t hungry. Feeling powerless, I wanted someone or something to fill the fear and sadness that occasionally would rise up within me. Don’t just sit there and wait, the voice within me would cry; go find a playmate. And then along came the hospital chaplain, offering me some soul food. Let’s call these people in the hospital Martha.
 In today’s gospel story we hear that Lazarus is in the house but he is silent. Perhaps, like me, he was a little confused and dazed by the events that had happened before. Perhaps, like me, he was waiting patiently at the dinner table, praying quietly to God. You see, just before this party, Lazarus had been dead. He had already spent four days in a tomb, lying bound and helpless on the ground, until Jesus arrived to rescue him from death’s grip. Let’s call Jesus Resurrection and Life.
Whether you interpret this story literally or metaphorically, Lazarus, like the twin boys, was dead to the world, unaware of what others were doing and saying. Suddenly brought out of their tombs or their womb, they faced the bright lights of the world and their future playmates. Stunned by the appearance of their brother, Martha and Mary are overwhelmed with joy and invite everyone back to Bethany, where they gave a dinner party for Jesus.
And so now, six days before the Passover feast in Jerusalem, they are all gathered in the home of Lazarus. Martha is buzzing about, preparing the meal, attending to basic needs. Mary is gratefully and lovingly anointing Jesus’ feet. The disciples are inhaling the fumes of Easter lilies and the fragrance of expensive oil. And Lazarus, like all the other disciples except Judas, is silent. Watching everyone, Jesus is waiting patiently at the table.
Jesus is straining forward to what lies ahead for him. He is not resting in the glory of what he has done. He is not bathing himself in the adulation that Mary pours onto his feet. He is not scolding Martha to stop being so busy and to sit down and listen to him. He is not asking Lazarus to tell everyone about what just had happened to him, nor is Jesus accusing Judas of what he is about to do. No, Jesus is actually thinking about himself - his own suffering, his own death, and his own resurrection. “Leave her alone,” Jesus said to Judas. “Mary bought this perfume for the day of my burial” and her intentions are good.
I love looking at the inconsistencies that exist between the gospel stories. For example, in Matthew and Mark, the house in Bethany belongs not to Lazarus but rather to a leper who had been healed by Jesus. In Luke it belongs to a Pharisee. The woman who anoints Jesus is not Lazarus’ sister, but rather an unnamed woman, and she pours the ointment not on the feet of Jesus, but rather on his head. In Luke, this woman is a sinner, who washes his feet with her tears first, and then kisses them before anointing them. In Mark, some people indignantly ask why she does this, while in Matthew it was the disciples who were angry. And John identifies this disciple as Judas, the one in particular who questions what Mary has done. Parenthetically, John warns us that Judas’ intentions were not good.
From the very beginning of John’s gospel, Jesus knows exactly what he is doing, where he is going, and why he does what he does. He knows his intentions, as well as ours. He knows that fundamentally we are human animals who want food and playmates. He knows that we sin in our thoughts, words, and deeds, and He promises us that every suffering that we endure will be redeemed. Every trespass and transgression will be forgiven. And new life awaits us. Like Izzy during this season of Lent, we are all in basic training, being disciplined to trust God for our growth, strength, and spiritual health.
 Remembering his own story, St. Paul encouraged the Philippians to forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead. Not looking back at the deaths that he caused, the betrayals he made, St. Paul wants to be like Christ, and press on for the goal of that heavenly call. Nothing else matters to him now. He seeks life with a purpose. A life that is filled with the surpassing value of knowing Christ and making him known. Writing to the Philippians from prison, he encourages them to have faith in Christ.
St. Paul expresses his gratitude to this Christian community, writing that he appreciated their prayers and it was kind of them to share his distress. Waiting patiently, he had learned to be content with whatever he had, of having plenty and having little, of being well-fed and going hungry. He exhorts them to “Rejoice in the Lord, always. Do not worry about anything,” he wrote. “But in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Our Bible stories, like our family stories, are tableaus of people, who have gathered in different places, for special events, at various times in our lives, or like us who gathered this morning for worship as a matter of spiritual discipline. Sometimes we are joyous; and sometimes we are not. Sometimes we are angry, mean, and not at peace with ourselves or with others. Always, these times provide us with opportunities for spiritual growth each and every day.
Today, Jesus waits patiently for us at this table in this house. Regardless of whether you’re feeling like Mary, or Martha, Judas, or Lazarus, or any one of the unnamed disciples, don’t look back but press forward; for the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, will feed us today and help us to grow.
Isaiah 43:16-21
Philippians 3:4b-14
John 12:1-8
Psalm 126