Sunday, February 5, 2023

Good Intentions: Sermon for 5th Sunday after Epiphany A (And Scouting Sunday)


One of my all-time favorite movies is Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, a spoof on the horror movie genre of the 30s and 40s, the era of Lon Cheney and Bela Lugosi. Brooks takes the granddaddy of all horror stories to poke fun at, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, strips it of everything but the idea of the struggle between monster and creator, and gets down to work, aided by a brilliant cast that includes Gene Wilder, Marty Feldman, Cloris Leachman, Madeleine Kahn, and Peter Boyle.

One of the scenes depicts young Viktor Frankenstein, who has become convinced that his grandfather's work reanimating dead bodies is actually possible, being led by his assistant Igor into the local cemetery to get a suitable body for his experiment. They've decided on someone very, very large, to make regenerating the nerves easier. Just their luck, a local criminal has been hanged who's nearly seven feet tall. So they sneak into the cemetery, and begin to dig up the body. With ominous music, the coffin is shown rising up from the depths. Deep in a hole they have dug around the coffin, both Viktor and his assistant Igor appear, and spit out mouthfuls of dirt, fully aware of how disgusting their situation is.

“What a filthy job!” Viktor says to Igor, as they are 5 feet deep in the hole.

“Could be worse,” says Igor, sunnily.

“HOW?” pouts Viktor.

“Could be raining,” Igor replies,-- and just then lightning flashes across the sky. Viktor and Igor look at each other, and five seconds later an absolute deluge arrives. Viktor looks sourly at Igor, who put on a brave face and blinks rapidly as they immediately get soaked to the skin.
(1)



I imagine a few of our Scouting families have experienced the same thing on some of their outdoor adventures. Even when everything has gone wrong at a campsite, just remember—it could be worse—it could be raining.

You know, attitude, perspective, and a sense of proportion really are everything in life. To quote another great childhood movie hero of mine, Mary Poppins, drudge work really IS better when you are singing a song as you go along, a spoon full of sugar does make the medicine go down in the most delightful way.

Our readings today are all centered on instruction for life, on having the correct attitudes in doing what we do. Each of the communities being addressed in each reading is in turmoil or transition of some kind, which can create the worst kind of stress. Jesus is in the middle of his first big series of lessons in Matthew’s gospel, the Sermon on the Mount. He is taking a group of people who have been following him around looking for miracles and trying to change their perception of themselves. When he talks about his listeners being salt, light, and a city on a hill, he is telling them that rather than waiting for miracles to be performed in front of them by Jesus, that they themselves ARE the miracles that can change the world, if they allow God’s vision of human flourishing to root in their hearts and change their own understanding of responsibility. In his teaching, Jesus is forming them from a ragtag set of individuals into a COMMUNITY that works for the benefits of the world—just like Scouting.

The members of the church in Corinth that Paul is talking to are split into factions based on wealth, power, and claims of holiness, and this division prevents them from growing in faith. How many of us have experienced that kind of division? Maybe a better question would be: when have we NOT experienced that kind of division? But it doesn’t have to be that way.

The people being addressed by the prophet Isaiah have returned from exile under the protection of the Persian Empire, and have rebuilt their temple. And yet, their return to worship has not led them to a deeper spirituality. Instead, everything has become performative—about making a show and making worship all about themselves, rather than about God and allowing God to reshape their lives. They think they’re in charge, and that they can manipulate God by doing the right rituals the right way, but without their heart in it. Worship has become a hypocritical way of showing off, a piece of performance, rather than an act that shapes their outer lives.

In each case, the people are being urged to reorient their attitudes from merely going through the motions selfishly, but instead being true believers who put their principles into action, to be people of abundance, to become a community of the faithful who work to bring about empathy, justice and shalom into a world that desperately needs it—to shift from an inward, consumerist focus to an outward looking, unified force for good, even if that requires naming the part they play in the systems of injustice that surround them, if only by their silence.

The reading from Isaiah 59 questions empty observance of ritual without allowing true repentance to take root in our hearts. This passage addresses the problem of empty worship—worship that makes the worshiper feel good, or that makes the worshiper look good in the eyes of his or her neighbors, but ultimately is an empty gesture because it does not lead to a conversion of the heart and the soul.

How important is it to put your heart into what you do? Or is it more important to simply follow the rules and checklists of our “to-do” lists? It depends upon what we are doing— if you’re paying your property taxes, no one really expects you to be filled with joy as you do your duty—unless, and I am not kidding here, you can envision your money going to making sure children go through the school day fed as well as educated, you can envision to smooth roads you travel upon as being paid for by those tax dollars, or you can imagine your taxes supporting the EMTs who just saved your neighbor’s life and got them to the hospital. 
Because guess what? That is EXACTLY what your taxes do—and more. 

Likewise, in worshipping God, attitude is everything and the value of worship is made visible not in whether you feel you were entertained, but in how you are then empowered to act for good in the world beyond these doors. Worship is not a series of actions. Worship IS an attitude, just as love is. Worship is made holy by holy intention.

Specifically, Isaiah points out that fasting is actually an easier sacrifice than addressing issues of systematic injustice and oppression—and we all know Isaiah is correct. That’s why systematic oppression and injustice continues even in communities where a vast majority of people claim to be people of faith. In the Talmud, which is a collection of commentary on Jewish scripture that has been collected over the centuries, the rabbis make it clear that how one acts in their regular lives is more important than how one worships.

Rabbi Elazar said: One who performs acts of charity is greater than one who sacrifices all types of offerings, as it is stated: “To perform charity and justice is more acceptable to the Lord than an offering” (Proverbs 21:3), including all types of offerings. And Rabbi Elazar said: Acts of kindness, assisting someone in need, are greater than charity, as it is stated: “Sow to yourselves according to charity, and reap according to kindness” (Hosea 10:12)…. And Rabbi Elazar said: Anyone who performs charity and justice is considered as though he filled the whole world in its entirety with kindness, as it is stated: “He loves charity and justice; the earth is full of the kindness of the Lord” (Psalms 33:5). (2)


And actually, as I was reading their commentary, I was reminded of the Scout Oath and the Scout Law, which seek to orient Scouts as to how to live their lives even outside of Scout meetings, and even when they have become adults.

Jesus spends a huge amount of his time reminding us of God’s abundance, of God’s generous love and gift of grace, probably because we live most of our lives being told to see everyone around us as competition for scarce resources, and see strangers as potential “takers of our stuff.” But if we see ourselves as salt, without which life is not possible, or light, without which vision isn’t possible, suddenly we understand that we are called to take what has already been given to us, which is a miracle in and of itself, and DO something with it for the sake of the worl, not just for our own benefit.

In Scouting, life principles are taught through learning new things, and changing Scouts’ perceptions of themselves, their roles in their communities, and even their roles in nature, right? For instance, when camping, there’s the principle of “Leave No Trace.” That is broken down in a variety of ways: pack it in, pack it out. Leave what you find. Stay on established paths for the sake of vegetation, especially if your group is large. Only make a fire as large as you need. Observe wildlife without disturbing it. And these rules you practice at, say, Philmont, will also do you good in the wilds of New York City—especially the bit about not disturbing the local wildlife. The point is being taught consideration and respect for your surroundings and the people in them, whether you are in a tent or not. They're also meant to shape your lifelong intentions to those of being caring, careful, and attentive to consequences.


Through Isaiah’s words, God continues offering practical advice for those who want to LIVE as children of God in word, name, and example. Ultimately God further clarifies the point of sacrifices: they are meant to give us the blessing of being holy, of being part of something larger than ourselves. Sacrifices are meant to give us the blessing of living without fear.

And what is the result of following these kinds of sacrifices—the kind that make the person doing these kinds of sacrifices holy, blameless, and even blessed in the sight of God and for the good of the world around us? Isaiah tells us that by being generous and openhearted in our own lives, God will pour out abundance within our hearts, making us joyful and even fearless in all we do in the name of God. Isaiah also promises that by offering our true fast to God, “Our lights will shine out for all to see.” Just as Jesus assures his followers in our gospel today.

In our daily lives, our religious lives, and in our Scouting lives, there certainly are times when our actions seem outwardly correct, but lack a conviction of the heart. This is also a common theme in scripture. Thus Isaiah reorients the term “fast” here in an unusual way—turning the concept of sacrifice on its head. Basically God is saying this: Don’t fast to me out of fear—offer your best to me and those around you out of love. Be fearless in giving to others. Be fearless in fighting wrong, even if it costs you. Don’t make a show of doing without if, after you end your fast, you continue to engage in activities that ignore the plight of the suffering, or even adds to that suffering.

Do you want to make a sacrifice that pleases me? God asks. Fight injustice and oppression. Feed the hungry and bring the poor into your home just as eagerly as you would an honored guest—which was a very serious obligation in the Mediterranean culture of that time. Clothe those who are naked. Help your family members rather than try to hide from those who need help. And do it all not out of fear, but out of love. Be fearless in living out of love, and your light will shine out for all to see.

Amen.

Preached at the 10:30 am Holy Eucharist on February 5, 2023 at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO.

Readings:

Citations:
1) Mel Brooks, Young Frankenstein,-- video of the scene found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mC4VflOayBw 
2) Sukkah 49b, the William Davidson Talmud, found at https://www.sefaria.org/Sukkah.49b.13?lang=bi&with=all&lang2=en

No comments:

Post a Comment