Proper 25 - October 24, 2010

            I’m not sure which OT lesson we’re using at St. Andrews this week, so I’m going for Jeremiah.

Jeremiah 14:7-10, 19-22

            This text comes from a section of Jeremiah which is a series of laments, the context of which is presumably the siege of Jerusalem by the Babylonians.  (For a good lament, cue up U2’s “If God Would Send His Angels” or “Peace on Earth.”)  Gene Tucker tells us that this section was “edited into its present form by the deuteronomistic editors…probably during the Babylonian Exile.”  That is to say that it reflects some hindsight as well as the theological view that the Exile was the consequence of the people’s disobedience to God. 

So the text begins with God’s people admitting their sins to God.  It occurs to me that we don’t tend to think of ourselves as deserving of God’s judgment, or that our sins might have serious consequences.  (I would take this opportunity to recommend Anne Tyler’s novel Saint Maybe, a fantastic book which was required reading in my div. school Christian Ethics class.)  God’s people here take the reality of their sin seriously; at the same time, they feel abandoned by God and long for God’s intervention.  A series of images (verses 8-9) illustrates their desperation and disappointment: God is like a “stranger in the land” (“Do I know you?”), a “traveler turning aside for the night” (“I’m tired”), “someone confused” (“I – what?”), a “mighty warrior who cannot give help” (“I’m hit!”).  What strikes me most about these images is their irreverence – we never talk about God this way!  But notice that God’s people here aren’t talking about God; they’re talking to God. Why are you acting this way?  They are aiming their disappointment and confusion in the right direction by voicing it right to God.  That may be why there’s then a turn in verse 9:  “Yet you, O Lord, are in the midst of us…”  In verse 10, God gives the people the bad news, reminding us that God didn’t prevent the Exile but instead allowed the people to be overrun and taken as captives to a strange land.   Harsh, but I have to hand it to the Lectionary people here for actually including this unpleasant verse in the reading.  I should say that I find it more helpful to think in terms of God letting the people suffer the consequences of their sins, rather than God “punishing” them. 

Verses 19-22 follow a pattern similar to verses 7-9, beginning with a string of bewildered questions for God, following with a confession, then an appeal for God not to cast them off, and ending with a declaration of faith: “We set our hope on you…”  Could be that, in order to be able to make the declaration of faith in the midst of suffering, we must also be able to voice our anger and disappointment to God.

2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18

            A word about the Pastoral Epistles (1 & 2 Timothy and Titus).  One of the things I value about these letters is their very personal character.  Each of them purports to be from an older Paul to a younger protégée in ministry.  Whether they are or are not genuinely Pauline, one aspect that distinguishes them from most of Paul’s other letters is that they are addressed to an individual rather than a congregation.  So when I hear the author giving advice and offering support, to an extent I put myself in the addressee’s place and hear those words addressed to me.  In this way I have at times found comfort in these letters.  It’s ironic because often we make the mistake of reading letters like Romans and 1 Corinthians as if they’re addressed to us as individuals, but those letters are written to a corporate “you,” entire congregations.  With these letters, though, I think it’s appropriate to hear them addressed not just to “us” but to “me.”

            Today’s reading reminds me of a character from one of my all-time favorite books by one of my all-time favorite authors, Father Ignacio Blazon in Robertson Davies’ Fifth Business.  Father Blazon is an elderly Jesuit monk who hopes that, when Jesus returns, it will be as an old person – because Jesus died so young that we have no model for embodying God’s love in old age.   He says that, due to his age, he has thought and felt things that Jesus never thought and felt.  He’s a compelling character, and I thought of him because this text seems to me to address concerns of (relatively) old age and the end of life.  The author is looking back on his life and journey in faith and ministry.  He says he feels pretty much spent, and that it’s about time for him to go.  But I notice his descriptions are theological: he is a “poured out as a libation,” i.e. he’s spent because his life has been an offering to God.  Also he’s “finished the race” in order to get the “crown,” i.e. he’s given his all to his life of faith in order to see God’s reign.  He expects God to meet us at the finish line as “righteous judge.”  We tend to be uncomfortable with the idea of meeting God as judge, but I’m reminded of something theologian Robert Capon wrote – that we should understand God’s final judgment not as “vindictive” but vindicative – that God will view us in the light of Christ’s redemptive grace.

            In the next verses, the author observes that he feels rather deserted and alone, also – I imagine – a familiar feeling for those reaching the end of their races.  But he says that “the Lord stood by me and gave me strength,” and so he believes God will see him through. 

Luke 18:9-14

            Today’s Gospel text has some parallels with last week’s: it’s a parable that contrasts two figures, and Luke opens with his understanding of what the parable is about (thank you, Luke).  The two opposing characters in the parable are a Pharisee and a tax collector.  Pharisees are religious insiders, knowledgeable and fastidious about the Torah and its requirements.  Tax collectors are outsiders, seen as collaborators with Rome and to some extent extortionists, unpopular with most other people.  Jesus portray these two basically standing next to each other at the Temple, praying.  He says the Pharisee’s prayer consists of (1) thanking God that he’s not like “other people,” Law-breakers like the tax collector, and (2) listing his spiritual practices such as fasting and tithing.  By contrast, the tax collector’s prayer is a simple and earnest plea to God for mercy.  The point, says Jesus?  The one who went home “justified,” i.e. “in a right relationship with God” is the tax collector; because he humbled himself before God (a posture from which God can work with him) whereas the Pharisee presented himself to God with a “Ta-da!!” not inviting any involvement whatsoever from God.  A significant note from David Tiede: the verb for the “praying” that the Pharisee is doing means literally “praying to himself.”  Nice.  It would be interesting to compare the prayers in this parable with those of God’s people in the OT text.

            This reading continues a familiar theme in Luke of contrasts between the exalted insiders who will be humbled, and the humble outsiders who will be welcomed into God’s kingdom and exalted.  (See, e.g. 5:29-32; 7:29-30, 36-50; 9:46-48; 10:25-37; 13:10-17; 14:7-24; 15:1-32).

Works Consulted or Cited:

Gene M. Tucker’s commentary on the OT text in Preaching Through the Christian Year, Year C

David Tiede’s notes on the Gospel text in the HarperCollins Study Bible
Robert Farrar Capon, The Youngest Day
Robertson Davies, Fifth Business
Anne Tyler, Saint Maybe