Before I give the homily, I must give two warnings about today’s gospel reading in which Jesus tells us the parable of the talents.
First, this parable is not so much about investment. Jesus is not telling us that we ought to be good investors like Warren Buffett. He’s not teaching us that we have to manage our financial assets and double them up in order to be good and faithful servants. He’s not promoting capitalism. For your information, the slaves aren’t dealing with a couple of thousand dollars. One talent is about half a million, $500,000, so five talents are worth $2.5 million. If Jesus really believed that having excellent investment skills was part of the requirements to be a good and faithful Christian, he should’ve at least given us half a million. The parable is not about stewardship or church capital campaign. The other caution is that this parable is not about discovering what we are talented at like our natural gifts or skills and use them for the church. Jesus is not urging us to take career personality and aptitude tests to better serve the church. This is important for everyone, whether one is Christian or not! Our modern use of the term talent like “America’s got talent” can confuse and mislead us. The church is not structured by those who got talent, but who are baptized in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Our urge to structure our church according to our natural gifts and skills should be carefully discerned. We all know that God tells us to be good and faithful, not successfully talented at something. Then what’s the parable really about? Let’s remind ourselves that this parable comes right after the parable of ten bridesmaids which we heard last Sunday. It’s about the kingdom of God coming in the time of kairos, the time of God, not in the time of kronos. Our Christian life time is not measured impersonally and mathematically, but personally and spiritually. The theme of not knowing when the bridegroom will come still continues in this parable of the talents. The slaves have no idea when the master would come back. And he does “after a long time.” (v. 19) So we know the good and faithful slaves are living in the time of kairos and the wicked and lazy slave in the time of kronos. There’s another difference among the slaves in today’s parable. It’s about what kind of emotional attitude and spiritual temperature they have towards the master. These are shown in their responses to the master. The first two slaves who are given five talents and two talents have the same response. They say, “Master, you handed over to me five/two talents; see, I have made five/two more talents.” These slaves know exactly what’s given to them. They know what and who they’re dealing with. The other slave who is given one talent answers very differently. He says, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.” First, notice that he doesn’t specify what he is given to from the very beginning. Even one talent is worth a lot. This is not about him being jealous or envious that the master gave him less than the other two slaves. He’s not really aware of what he’s given. Also, we can see how this slave with one talent looks at the master. We should definitely give him credit for being honest and having guts to describe his master as quite wicked and lazy. From his perspective, the master is the one who he should be scared of. He is afraid. He acts based on his fear. He probably thinks that he actually did a good job for not losing the talent as well as playing safe. His emotional attitude is driven by fear, and spiritual temperature is lukewarm. He simply wants to keep things the way it is and will be. There’s a lack of trust in his master. The master to him is the one who gives him a test and is ready to punish him if there's any financial damages caused by him. So, the essential difference between the first two slaves and the last one is whether they trust their master enough to take a risk! He buries what's given to him from the master. So how does today’s parable apply to us? The parable is about taking a risk in the time of kairos. It’s also about knowing and accepting what’s given to us. The symbol of talent in the parable is indeed about money. And each slave shows his gift and ability to double up their investment. Yet, this symbol as I said earlier is not limited to money or natural gifts. If we consider a talent as a unit of value, one talent is about 75 lbs, therefore, five talents 375 lbs. Think of this symbol of talent as weight which is given to each slave. The weight of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is given to all of us here. This weight of the paschal mystery is on our shoulders. Imagine back to your school years when you had to carry your heavy backpack full of books, softcover and hardcover, notebooks and etc. This may not be a pleasant experience. (Children nowadays have their textbooks in their tablet.) What do we do to set us free from this weight? We let go of this weight by giving ourselves to others. Christians are called to share, give, and empty ourselves. The weight that Jesus has given to all the Christians is to be given and invested in the poor and the oppressed. It’s not to be carried over your shoulders. It’s not meant to be kept under secret or for a private devotion. This divine weight actually buries you to the ground unless you don’t actively share. The more you give, the freer you become. The more you share your love and compassion, the reconciling power of Christ with the poor, the firmer your ground of being becomes in the presence of God. The weight of Jesus you carry becomes the firm and solid rock on which you stand when you give yourself to the poor. This business of taking the weight of Jesus off your shoulders is about taking risks of loving the unloveable, forgiving the unforgivable, hoping in the midst of despair, and believing the unbelievable like G. K. Chesterton once said. It’s about being adventurous about loving God and our neighbors. The wicked and lazy slave keeps this weight to himself. His god is too small for us. His god is the one who punishes people for every mistake they make and is like a bookkeeper of wrongs and rights. His god is a fearful one without love and mercy. This wicked and lazy slave represents the local religious leaders in Jesus’ time who seek personal security by selfishly observing the Law at the sacrifice of others This wicked and lazy slave might represent in our time those who carry the weight of the gospel of Jesus Christ, yet not sharing it and using it properly. Know that this holy weight of Jesus’ compassionate and reconciling power is given to you. Whether you like to admit it or not, it is given to you at your baptism. Christ wants us to take risks of loving the poor radically and courageously. There’s no room for fear to kick in. The God of Jesus desires us to take risks to love, forgive, and reconcile without ceasing. Fear creates hatred. Trust in the God shown in Jesus creates courage to love. The Reformer Martin Luther once said, “Sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more.” Christian faith is not filled with some pietistic behaviors and practices. It’s supposed to be fun and exciting. If we can experience the joy of sharing the holy weight of the paschal mystery here and now, there’s no way we will enter the joy of Christ in heaven. And we do this work of faith together as church. I invite all of us to feel this talent, this weight of the paschal mystery as we partake the Body and Blood of Christ at the Eucharist. The actual weight of the host, the holy sacrifice might feel light, but the weight that Christ’s body carries in it is big enough to feed this entire universe. Each one of us, according to our ability, carry this weight of the holy sacrifice, the divine mystery shown in the death and resurrection of Christ. Every day, we share this with those who suffer in our communities. We as Christians cannot get away from this weight of Christ’s love if not sharing. Otherwise, this weight will bury us into the outer darkness. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. If there’s one common, universal thing that people dislike most, I would say, people hate doing, is to wait. I don’t have a scientific data if this is the most hated situation, but I have always seen and heard what patients and families in the hospital almost always complain about is this wait.
When a patient gets to the ER, he waits for a doctor and a nurse to examine him. If he’s sick enough to be admitted, he has to wait for a room upstairs to be available for him. Often, particularly in NYC, people wait for hours. When it’s worst, I have seen them waiting for more than 30 hours. After a couple of hours of waiting for an inpatient room, he finally gets it. Now he waits for his medical team to come and explain what’s going on with his body. Of course, they can’t say anything specific unless they have data. So, the patient has to go through all the tests. Waiting again to be taken to various labs and waiting for all the pathology reports to come back. And waiting again for his doctors to come up with some decent plans. Until this patient gets to go home, he has to wait for all the discharge papers to be finalized. I wonder why someone who is admitted to a hospital is called a patient. They are destined to be patient. I’m sure we all have this experience of endless waiting, at a government agency like the DMV or at an airport or at a grocery store or even at a church during Sunday service when a priest doesn’t seem to finish his sermon while food for the coffee hour gets cold! There’s an article about the psychology of waiting. It points out what makes waiting seem longer or worse. The uncertainty which creates anxiety makes waiting seem longer. Unanticipated and unexplained waits can be worse. Unfair waits are much more unbearable than equitable waits. And lastly, solo waits seem longer than group or social waits. (https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sideways-view/201411/the-psychology-waiting) What this research tells us is that we cannot avoid waiting in our lives, but we can handle and manage it better. That is, it is important to have knowledge and explanation of the delay. And it’s also important to wait as a group. I think these two simple pearls of wisdom help us hear what God tells us today in the gospel lesson since today’s parable talks about waiting. We heard Jesus talking about the parable of ten bridesmaids or virgins. Five are considered to be wise or prudent, φρόνιμος which is a better translation than wise. Other five are thought to be foolish. This parable is one of the difficult parables to make sense of. I can think of two things that are difficult to understand. First, it is the behavior and attitude of the five wise, prudent bridesmaids when the other five ask for extra oil. The foolish bridesmaids say to the prudent, “give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.” But the prudent say, “No! There will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” As Christians, we are taught to share our belongings, if not our lives, with others. The other difficulty to make sense of is the image of the lord who shuts his door to the foolish bridesmaids. This portrait of the lord is quite a mean one. The foolish bridesmaids after getting their oil come to the lord and say, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he replies, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.” This doesn’t look like a Christian thing to do. Doesn’t Jesus say, “Knock, and the door will be open to you.” (Mt. 7.7)? The foolish bridesmaids are denied entry into the wedding banquet for being not on time. We might wonder if that is too big of a deal or even a sin to be refused to join the party. There is a lack of evil behaviors that are often found in those who are refused to join the party in the parables of Jesus. But in this parable, that’s not the case. Also considering the biblical tradition that foolishness and wickedness are interchangeable, it is hard to pinpoint what’s so evil about the foolish bridesmaids. Often the teaching of this parable is emphasized in the very last verse that says, “Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” If we merely focus on this one verse, then the parable becomes about how important it is to keep awake. But that’s not what’s happening in the parable. The prudent bridesmaids as well as the foolish ones, all of them become drowsy and fall asleep. It’s not that the prudent ones stay all night. They too sleep. The only difference between the prudent bridesmaids and foolish or wicked bridesmaids is that the prudent ones stay prudent, which means they take flasks of oil with their lamps. What does the word “prudent” mean? Doesn’t it mean that one is “acting with or showing care and thought for the future?” (Oxford Dictionary) The prudent bridesmaids prepare themselves with extra flasks of oil, showing care and thought for the future. They are open to the possibility that the bridegroom would come in his own time. We have no idea whether these wise bridesmaids expect the bridegroom to delay his coming. But they’re at least ready and prepared for the delay. They are very much aware that it is not up to them whether the bridegroom would come on time that they don’t need extra flasks of oil. They are not in control of his coming and going. There’s humility in them. There’s also hope that the bridegroom will come when it’s time. On the other hand, the foolish bridesmaids make no room for delay, but only for punctuality. Their behavior shows that the bridegroom must come on time that they don’t need extra flasks of oil. They expect him to come on their schedule, not on his own. They are in charge of the bridegroom’s coming and going. They’re in control. When they realize that the bridegroom’s whereabouts are not in their control, they panic. Their lamps are no longer lit. They have no extra flasks of oil. They try to undo their incorrect understanding of time, it’s too late. The door is shut. The metaphor of having extra flasks of oil is not limited to one’s preparedness for the future. It’s not so much about being diligent. It’s one’s confession of faith that time doesn’t belong to us. Time is not in our control. The Bishop of Rome, Pope Francis once said in his homily, “Time is not ours, time belongs to God! The moment is in our hands, and so is the freedom we have in how we seize it. Now we may become sovereigns of the moment, but time has only one sovereign, only one Lord, Jesus Christ.” (Encountering Truth, p. 256) The prudent bridesmaids are wise because of their humility before God. They know that time belongs to God, not to them, not to any human being. They have the love for the one whom they’re waiting to see. They have hope that they’ll see the bridegroom soon or later. Humility, love, and hope prepare them to greet the bridegroom. They allow themselves to be led on the bridegroom’s time. They allow themselves to live and act on the bridegroom’s time. They fall asleep like the foolish ones, but their sleep is not the same kind. Their sleep is prayerful, restful, and hopeful because they live in the time of God. There are two Greek words for time. One is kronos and the other kairos. Kronos is the time measured impersonally and numerically. The English word “chronological” finds its root from this Greek word kronos. Kairos, on the other hand, is the time measured personally and experientially. It runs in human consciousness. Spiritually speaking, it is the time when people experience love, grace, and hope. It is the time when people experience God. It solely belongs to God alone. Having extra flasks of oil or not is really about whether we live in kronos or kairos. Which time are we living? What are we anticipating and longing to see in our times? If one lives at the time of kronos, they don’t need flasks of oil. All they need is their lamps that will eventually tell them their time is up and it is far from the eternity. If one lives in the time of kairos, they will have flasks of oil in their hands, believing and knowing that time belongs to the Bridegroom and desiring to see him. Only those with flasks of oil can live without fear, facing the evil of the world. We’re not called to be liberals or conservatives, but to be the prophets of Christ. The prophets have their flasks of oil in their hands, living in the time of kairos in which God's humility and compassion reign in Christ. What do we have in our hands now? What are we hoping for? Are we hoping for the reign of God in the crucified and risen Christ in this world? It’s not so much about keeping awake all night. It’s about what timeline we’re living ourselves. Back to the psychology of waiting. I mentioned that it gets easier to wait when we have knowledge of delay and when we wait as a group. In dealing with this holy business of waiting for the coming of Christ, we do have knowledge of delay that we do not know exactly when he will come. But with humility, faith, and love for Jesus, we leave it up to him. We allow ourselves to wait because time belongs to him. And we wait, not alone, but as a group, as a community of believers, as the Body of Christ. At the Eucharist, with extra flasks of oil in our hands, we taste and see the crucified and risen Christ, the Bridegroom. And we’re called to be the Body and Blood of Christ for the world that the poor and oppressed can taste and see the crucified and risen Christ. So, my brothers and sisters, have your extra flasks of oil with you always. Keep awake of what timeline you’re living in. Live your life, not in the time of kronos where you think you can control and rule, but in the time of kairos, in the time that belongs to God. Otherwise, it may be too late. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. We Christians, particularly Anglicans and Roman Catholics, start our November with two feasts, All Saints and All Souls. All Saints’ Day is about holy men and women in our Christian tradition whereas All Souls’ Day is about faithful men and women whose lives had a huge impact on us, those with whom we had a personal relationship.
One common fact about these two feasts is that both all saints and all souls are no longer alive. They’re dead. From a secular perspective, these two feasts may be considered as something like Memorial Day on which we commemorate and remember those who died in active military service. Like how people observe Memorial Day in general, the feast of All Souls can be celebrated as the day of remembrance of our family members who are no longer physically with us. This, however, is not the reason why we celebrate these feasts. Both feasts are not about death, but about life in God whose love goes beyond mortality. St. Paul says so eloquently, “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rm. 8.38-39) On the feast of All Saints, we celebrate the communion in which we are united with “the glorious company of apostles, the noble fellowship of prophets, and the white-robed army of martyrs.” (BCP p. 95) We commune together not only metaphorically, but sacramentally in the Eucharist. Christ unites us with all the saints. On the feast of All Souls, we are consoled by Christ’s love and hope of resurrection in which we are never set apart from family members and friends who fell asleep in Christ, who are now in a different mode of being in Christ. We are in communion with them through Christ. This idea, this sacramental reality of being in communion with saints and those who have gone before us is quite comforting and consoling to us. At the same time, it is not just limited to this pastoral and psychological benefit of these feasts. When we say we are in communion with saints, it means we are standing on the same ground where saints are. It means we place ourselves in the context where saints would be in our lives here and now. Being in communion with them challenges us to be in places where we usually don’t want to be. And today’s gospel reading can be to us a “spiritual road map” that guides us where we can be in communion with saints and of course with Christ. The gospel reading today is selected for the feast of All Saints. It’s the infamous Beatitudes, in which Jesus talks about the eight blessings in St. Matthew’s version. Let’s read them together again. These eight blessings start with poverty, mourning, meekness, hunger and thirst for righteousness, mercy, purity, peace, and persecution for righteousness’ sake. If I’m to preach some kind of prosperity gospel, today’s gospel reading should never be chosen. Let’s admit it. Who wants to be poor in spirit? Who wants to mourn? Who wants to be meek in the society where one has to constantly prove one’s value, usefulness and worth? Who wants to hunger and thirst for justice when it brings so many risks to one’s life? Who is really pure in heart? Who wants to get messy with conflicts to bring peace? And lastly, who wants to be persecuted for righteousness’ sake? The Beatitudes talk about the blessings, but these blessings are countercultural. It’s not the kind of blessing that our world promotes. The Beatitudes are full of paradoxes which turn the values of the world upside down. In this midst of the Beatitudes stand the feast of All Saints. The Beatitudes become a spiritual road map for Christians to be and stand where saints are. Taking the wise advice of St. Teresa of Avila who once said, “...the actions of the saints are only to be admired, not imitated, by us sinners,” we can still be near the saints! We might not be able to imitate, for example, St. Francis of Assisi’s radical detachment from all material things, but we can still admire and be close to him. We can be close to those who are poor. We can be around those who mourn. We can hang out with the meek. We can pay attention to those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who fight for justice. We can be happily influenced by those pure in heart. We can find ourselves getting into a conflict where we meet peacemakers. We can witness those who are being persecuted for righteousness’ sake. The very first step of being in communion with saints is not only recognizing our communion with them in the Eucharist but also placing ourselves in the context where saints would be found, where Christ happens, particularly in local communities. Where are the poor, the mourners, the meek, the hungry and thirsty for justice, peacemakers, or the persecuted in your neighborhood? We are not going there because we are so saintly and godly, but because we are in communion with the saints and Christ who are already there. The former Bishop of Rome, Pope Benedict XVI says something that is very true about the Beatitudes. He says, “...the Beatitudes present a sort of veiled interior biography of Jesus, a kind of portrait of his figure He who has no place to lay his head is truly poor; he who can say, ‘Come to me...for I am meek and lowly in heart’ is truly meek; he is the one who is pure of heart and so unceasingly beholds God. He is the peacemaker, he is the one who suffers for God’s sake. The Beatitudes display the mystery of Christ himself, and they call us into communion with him.” (Joseph Ratzinger, Jesus of Nazareth, p. 74) For us to encounter the mystery of Christ, we are constantly called to the places of poverty, suffering, conflicts, and injustice. We tend to idolize saints as if they were completely different from us, as if they had their halo all the time. That’s not true. Saints are the ones who found their call to service in the crucified people. Saints used the Beatitudes as their spiritual road map to find the crucified Jesus in the lives of the crucified people. And today, we are once again called to use the same spiritual road map to be where saints are, to be where the crucified people are, and to encounter the crucified and risen Christ. Tragic incidents are everywhere, especially in our country. 59 innocent people were shot to death in Las Vegas, and most recently, 8 people were killed in New York City. The world is filled with anxiety and fear, which leads to violence and hate and produces suffering and pain. Most of us probably might not want to deal with this whole situation that is going on in our world. Yet, for us Christians, this is the time to live out the Beatitudes. This is the time to be among the blessed to whom Jesus refers in today’s gospel reading. This is the time that we feel and experience our communion with all the saints and souls. I pray that may God open our eyes to see the crucified people as well as our ears to hear their mourning. Not only do we place ourselves with them but also witness the work of Christ who resurrects all of our lives. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 21st Sunday after Pentecost/Proper 25A(Lev. 19.1-2, 15-18; Ps. 1; 1 Thess. 2.1-8; Mt. 22.34-46)6/27/2018 I would like to start with a riddle. What three words are said too much, yet never enough? (Please don't google.) The answer is “I love you.” I think this riddle speaks a volume about our culture. Love is said too much, yet people have a hard time that they actually loved. This rather subjective experience brings up the issue of our culture. Are we living in a culture of forgiveness, mercy, and love or a culture of fear, anxiety, and judgment?
This issue of love is crucial to us Christians. If you’re familiar with Rite I, today’s gospel reading is always proclaimed in the beginning of the service, which begins with, “Hear what our Lord Jesus saith…” It is mentioned every Sunday because the most essential teaching of Christianity is love. And it is also the most difficult and troubling one to follow. It is the ultimate goal that we Christians strives for. So who are we called to love? God and our neighbors. And there’s a third party we are called to love, that is ourselves. We love God, others, and ourselves, which forms a trinity of love. This trinity of love is so connected to one another that we cannot exclude any one party. If we say we love God, that means we love our neighbor. And if we say we love our neighbor, that presupposes we love ourselves. In other words, if we say we love God and don’t care about our neighbor, that means we neither love God nor ourselves. Today, I would like to reflect more on loving ourselves simply because it is always easy to start something with ourselves. Some of you might know that I work as a hospital chaplain. It is my full-time ministry during the week. I deal with death and dying every day. Some people think I’m the Grim Reaper when I show up. This is not the only thing I do in the hospital. I lead a spirituality group for patients with psychiatric illnesses. One of the group norms is this: “There’s no attacking in this group.” Patients seem a bit nervous when I say this norm as if we’re going to argue with each other on this subject matter of spirituality. And I explain what this norm is about in one sentence. I say, “No attacking in this group, which means you cannot attack yourself.” This seems to surprise my patients and bring some fresh perspective to them. This reaction might demonstrate a widely spread phenomenon of self-attack in our society. We attack ourselves without even recognizing we’re doing it. We are so hard on ourselves. We are mean to ourselves. We choke our neck so often that we don’t even know we’re doing it as if our choking hands around the neck is some kind of scarf we casually wear! I believe Jesus’ commandment of loving our neighbor as ourselves calls all of us to reflect on how we love ourselves. I’m not talking about self-pity or narcissistic way of loving oneself. I’m talking about accepting ourselves, our whole selves, some good parts as well as some imperfect parts. We can very well self-reflect as a way to learn to accept and love ourselves. This can be done through spiritual direction or psychotherapy. Another way to do so is to look at others, other human beings. They reflect how we look at ourselves. They are a mirror that reflects how we see ourselves. When we see others, what do we think about them? How do we look at them? In one way or another, do we think that we’re superior to others? Or do we think that we’re inferior to others? The former way of looking at myself better than others is pride which leads to a kind of “supremacism.” This belief says we are not just important but are more important than others. We all know that we are currently suffering from this spiritual disease in our society. Speaking from my personal experience, I find myself comparing to this person. I tell myself, “I’m smarter, stronger, socially more influential, spiritually deeper than this person.” Then I think to myself, “Wait a minute. Just because of all that, I think I’m better? This is wrong. No way!” On the other hand, the other way of looking at myself inferior to others is not humility. It is rather a false humility. We might even degrade and devalue good things we have. We internalize false messages and images about ourselves that we are never good enough and we are always less important than others. This internalization of a false humility might lead to shame and unnecessary guilt. Again, speaking from my personal experience, I look at another person, telling myself, “That person is so much better than me. He is smarter, stronger, lighter, better looking, better educated.” But then I think to myself, “Wait a minute. Just because of all that, I think I’m no better? This is wrong. No way!” When we are so caught up in this unhealthy spiritual and psychological dynamics of looking at oneself of better or worse than the other, we know we can never truly accept and love ourselves. This is against the Christian teaching of humanity that everyone is created equal in the image of God. For this reason alone, we are no better or less than others. In God’s eyes, we are all loveable. And because God loves us unconditionally, only because of this reason, we must accept and love ourselves even though we might not want to. There are at least two things we can practically do in order to beat this unhealthy inner dynamics of looking at oneself better or less, which will eventually help us love ourselves, others, and God. The first thing is humility. According to the Jesuit priest, Dean Brackley, “...humility means recognizing that I have no greater dignity than anybody else, including the drunk down the street. So I demand no privileges. Humility means identifying with those whom the world deems unimportant. It means solidarity.” (The Call to Discernment in Troubled Times: New Perspectives on the Transformative Wisdom of Ignatius of Loyola, p. 84) A true humility beats a false humility that considers others more important than ourselves. No matter what masks you earn to wear, you are as important as others but no better or no less in the eyes of God. The other thing, which I consider most essential, is that we must remember that there’s always God who never gives up on loving us and entire humanity. Back to our lessons today, particularly both the 1st lesson and the gospel reading talk about love. There’s a pattern in both lessons. God talks about loving our neighbor as ourselves and then declares, “I am the Lord.” Jesus in the gospel reading tells the Pharisees loving God and neighbor as ourselves and reveals his true identity the Messiah as the Lord. This pattern of teaching the Israelites and Pharisees to love and proclaiming the divine identity carries an implicit message that says, “I'm telling you to love your neighbor as yourself because I the Lord God will do what I teach you to do.” And this actualization, this embodiment of the greatest commandment is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In Christ, God eternally and unconditionally accepts us as who we are and loves us as who we are. When this love of God in Christ is felt and experienced through the Holy Spirit, when this love of God in Christ grounds and centers our whole being through the Holy Spirit, we can truly accept both our good and imperfect parts and love ourselves. And we can also see others as who they are, as our brothers and sisters created in the image of God and love them as ourselves. The Eucharist which we receive today is the sacrament of the divine love in which Jesus Christ gives himself as food and drink for the life of the world. As we take his Body and drink his Blood, we not only receive that divine love in us but also give ourselves to be shared with others. St. Paul in his letters to the Thessalonians confesses, “...we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves.” May this confession of St. Paul be ours! In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 21st Sunday after Pentecost/Proper 25A (레위기 19.1-2, 15-18; 성시 1; 1 데살 2.1-8; 마태 22.34-46)6/27/2018 “너나 잘 하세요.” 영화 <친절한 금자씨>에 나오는 대사입니다. 아마 이 영화 보신 분들이 많을 거라 생각합니다. 출소 후 감옥에서 만나 전도사가 두부를 들고 기다립니다. 그리고 이렇게 말하죠. “두부처럼 하얗게 살라고 다시는 죄 짓지 말란 뜻으로 먹는 겁니다.” 금자씨는 두부가 놓인 접시를 전도사의 손에서 살짝 밀쳐내고 두부는 땅에 떨어집니다. 그리고 무표정으로 말합니다. “너나 잘 하세요.”
“너나 잘 하세요.” 재밌는 표현이긴 하지만 가르치는 입장에 있는 사람에게는 꽤나 잔인한 말입니다. 담배 피는 고등학생 아이에게 금연을 요구하는 아버지, 아버지 입장에선 아이를 위한다고 말했지만, “아버지도 안끊으면서 저보고 끊으라는 겁니까?”라는 답변이 돌아온다면 뒷목 잡을 일이겠죠. 아무리 공손하게 표현해도 결국 “너나 잘 하라”는 뜻입니다. 금자씨가 두부를 떨어트리며 한 이 말, “너나 잘 하세요.”는 언행일치의 중요성을 코믹하게 보여주고 있습니다. 내 말과 행동이 일치하는 삶, 그리스도인에겐 신앙과 행동이 함께 하는 삶이라고 볼 수 있습니다. 오늘 복음서는 그리스도인에게 가장 중요하고 제일 지키기 어려운 가르침을 이야기합니다. “네 마음을 다하고 목숨을 다하고 뜻을 다하며 주님이신 너희 하느님을 사랑하여라. 네 이웃을 네 몸같이 사랑하여라.” 그리스도인으로 살아가는 목적이 오늘 복음서 말씀에서 다 들어있습니다. 하느님을 마음과 목숨과 뜻을 다해 사랑하라. 이웃을 네 자신처럼 사랑하라. 이 가르침을 굉장히 심각한 표정을 지으며 제 가족 누군가에게 하면 아마 금자씨처럼 “너나 잘 하세요.”라고 하지 않을까 싶습니다. 제 1 독서 레위기에서도 같은 가르침이 나옵니다. 특히 타인을 내 몸처럼 사랑하라는 가르침이 대두됩니다. 영어 성서에는 “Love your neighbor as yourself.”라고 복음서의 가르침과 똑같이 번역이 되어 있는데 공동번역 성서는 좀 다르게 해석을 했습니다. “네 이웃을 네 몸처럼 아껴라.” 어떤 게 바람직한 번역이다를 논하기 전에 “아끼다”는 표현이 더 살갑게 들립니다. 이 번역으로 복음서의 가르침을 표현하자면 “마음과 목숨과 뜻을 다해 하느님을 아껴라. 네 이웃을 네 몸처럼 아껴라.”로 할 수 있는데 어떻게 들리세요? 좀 더 구체적이고 친근하지 않나요? 사랑하면 아끼게 되죠. 레위기와 복음서가 보여주는 공통점은 하느님과 이웃 사랑에 대한 가르침 이외에 한가지 더 있습니다. 레위기에서 이웃을 아끼라는 가르침이 주어진 뒤에 반복되는 하느님의 선포가 있습니다. “나는 야훼이다.” 복음서도 비슷한 패턴을 취하고 있습니다. 사랑하라는 가르침 뒤 예수께서 바리사이파 사람들에게 그리스도의 정체성에 대해 여쭤보십니다. 이들은 그리스도는 다윗의 자손이라고 답하는데 예수께서 그리스도는 주님, 하느님이시라고 가르치십니다. 여기서 예수께서는 본인의 정체성, 즉 예루살렘에 입성했을 때 민중들이 “호산나, 다윗의 자손”이라고 부른 정체성을 정정하십니다. 즉, 바리사이파 사람들에게 “나는 하느님이다.”라고 말하는 것과 같다고 볼 수 있습니다. 이 패턴, 사랑하라, 아끼라는 가르침 뒤에 “나는 하느님이다.”라고 이어지는 패턴 앞에서 “너나 잘 하세요.”라는 반격은 무용지물입니다. 예수께서 우리에게 “사랑하라”고 말씀하시면 우리가 “예수님, 당신이나 잘 하세요.”라고 할 수 없지 않습니까? 하느님께서 마음과 목숨과 뜻을 다해 당신 자신처럼 인간을 사랑하심은 예수의 삶과 죽음, 부활에서 드러납니다. 예수께서 사랑하라 말씀하셨고 온몸으로 사랑하셨습니다. 예수 그리스도께서 우리에게 분부하신 가르침, 하느님을 이웃을 온맘 다해 아끼라는 이 가르침 앞에 우리는 금자씨처럼 답할 수 없습니다. 그저 침묵할 수 밖에 없습니다. 그렇다면 주님께서는 절대 불가능한 일을 우리에게 시키신 걸까요? 그건 아닙니다. 인간이 누군가를 사랑하는 일에 끝도 완성도 없습니다. 그 깊이를 더해가는 길 밖에 없습니다. 더 깊게 넓게 사랑하는 법을 일생을 통해 배워가는 겁니다. 사실 이 사랑하라는 가르침에서 우리가 사랑하는 대상을 둘로 생각하기 쉽습니다. 그런데 한명 더 있습니다. 바로 나 자신입니다. 마음과 목숨과 뜻을 다하고 내 몸처럼 나 자신처럼 주님과 이웃을 사랑하기 위한 가장 첫 걸음은 내가 나를 사랑하는데 있습니다. 나를 온전히 사랑하지 않고 이웃을 사랑할 수 없습니다. 여러분은 얼마나 자기 자신을 사랑하고 계신가요? 혹은 얼마나 자기 자신을 질책하시나요? 저는 병원에서 일주일에 세번씩 정신질환을 가지고 있는 환자들과 하는 영성그룹은 인도합니다. 보통 그룹 시작하기 전에 모임의 목적과 규칙 등을 설명합니다. 특히나 규칙은 상당히 중요해서 초반에 이야기를 하지 않으면 그 그룹은 어수선해지기 쉽상입니다. 규칙이란 게 별게 없습니다. 누군가 이야기할 때 경청하고 가치 판단하지 말 것 등등 입니다. 여기서 제가 가장 중요하게 생각하는 규칙이 있습니다. 뭘까요? 바로 이 그룹에서는 절대 공격하지 않는다는 규칙입니다. 이 말을 하면 환자들이 내심 불안해 하는 기색을 보입니다. 마치 이 그룹에서 종교 논쟁이나 자신의 신념에 어긋나는 이야기를 하는 건가 싶은 거겠죠. 환자들이 좀 의아해 하는 찰나에 한마디 덧붙입니다. “절대로 자신을 공격하지 마세요.” 공격을 하지 말라는 이야기에 나 아닌 다른 사람만 생각하기 쉽습니다. 하지만 얼마나 무의식적으로 우리가 우리 자신을 공격하고 사는지 곰곰히 생각해 볼 일 입니다. 내가 아닌 타인을 바라볼 때 알 수 있습니다. 나를 상대방과 비교시켜서 나를 폄하시키는 일, 다들 해보셨죠? 아무개가 나보다 더 잘 낫다, 이쁘다, 잘 생겼다, 잘 번다, 잘 나간다, 좋은 차를 탄다, 좋은 구두/가방을 든다, 더 좋은 동네, 더 좋은 학벌을 가졌다 등등. 여기서 멈추지 않습니다. 흙수저와 금수저, 갑과 을, 이 표현들은 사회적으로 우리 사회가 인간의 가치를 물질로 측정하는지 보여줍니다. 반면, 우리 내면 안에서 일어나는 다른 공격의 양태도 있습니다. 나를 상대방과 비교해 끊임없이 비하시키는 게 아니라 내가 더 잘났다고 하는 모습입니다. 요즘 White Supremacy, 백인 우월주의라는 말이 작년 2016년 11월부터 너무나 빈번히 미디어에 오르내리고 있습니다. 우월주의가 뭡니까? 단순히 내가 중요한 사람이라고 믿는 게 아니라 내가 나보다 더 중요하고 우월한 사람이라고 생각하는 게 우월주의입니다. 내 피부가 하얗기 때문에, 내가 돈을 더 벌기 때문에, 내가 남자라서, 내가 이성애자라서, 내가 젊어서 등등 여러가지 이유가 있습니다. 세상은 이런 이유들을 정당화 시키려 합니다. 이 두 가지의 모습, 우리 안에 있습니다. 내 안에 존재하는 이 두 가지 모습을 우리가 직접 대면하지 못하면 우리는 우리 자신을 결코 올바르게 하느님의 뜻대로 사랑할 수 없습니다. 어떻게 바라볼 수 있을까요? 바로 우리 주위 이웃을 통해서 두 가지 모습을 지닌 나를 볼 수 있습니다. 인간은 사회적, 관계적 존재입니다. 타인과의 관계를 통해 내가 확인됩니다. 묵상을 통해서도 가능한데, 이 행위 또한 절대타자인 하느님과의 관계를 통해 내가 확인되는 겁니다. 타인을 통해 나 자신을 비하시키고 때론 우쭐되는 나를 바라본다… 좀 추상적이죠? 제 개인적인 경험을 들려드리겠습니다. 제 허물을 드러내는 것이라 좀 부끄럽긴 하지만, 하늘뜻/뉴욕한인성공회 신자들 어느 누구도 제게 “너나 잘 하세요”라고 안하실 거라 믿기에 제 경험을 나누겠습니다. 어느날 출근 길에 거리에 서 있는 중남미 출신으로 보이는 청년이 보였습니다. 문득 내가 저 청년보다 더 낫다고 생각하는 제 자신을 발견했습니다. 어떻게 발견했는지 모르겠습니다만 성령께서 제 마음의 눈을 열으셨다고 믿습니다. 나보다 체구도 작고, 교육 또한 내가 더 많이 받았을테고, 직장도 내가 더 안정적일 게 분명했습니다. 이렇게 내가 더 우월할 만한 사항들을 떠올리며 이런 생각이 들었습니다. “고작 이런 것들, 이따위것들로 내가 저 청년보다 낫다고 하다니…참 못나다.”란 생각 말입니다. 주님 앞에 부끄러웠습니다. 하지만 또 감사했습니다. 우연히 본 중남미 청년이 내 안에 존재하는 쓰레기를 볼 수 있게 내 눈을 뜨게 해준 듯 했습니다. 이 경험은 저 자신을 비하하고 공격하는 제 또다른 부분을 정화시켰습니다. 나보다 우월하다고 생각하고 있는 누군가를 만났을 때, 작아지는 제 모습을 보면서 이 또한 얼마나 어리석은 생각인지 정신이 들더군요. 고작 그런 것들로 나 자신을 비하하다니..란 생각 말입니다. 그렇다고 내가 더 우월한 것들을 생각해내려고 한 건 아닙니다. 그저 하느님 앞에 잘난 것, 못난 것 없이 다 사랑받는 존재인데 나 자신을 사랑하지 못해온 것에 대한 회개의 마음이 들었습니다. 제가 존경하는 한 목사님이 이런 말을 했습니다. “우리 안으로 깊이 들어간 영적 여정만큼만 이웃을 섬길 수 있다.” 우리 안으로 깊이 들어간 영적 여정이란 얼마나 우리가 깊이 우리 자신을 이해하고 아끼며 사랑하는지 묻고 있습니다. 우리가 우리를 사랑하는 만큼 이웃을 사랑할 수 있습니다. 류시화 시인이 이런 이야기를 나눈 적이 있습니다: “미국의 코칭 지도자 케빈 홀은 여행 중에 우연히 만난 한 인도인으로부터 '겐샤이'라는 단어를 배운다. 고대 산스크리트어인 '겐샤이'는 '누군가를 대할 때 그가 스스로를 작고 하찮은 존재로 느끼도록 대해선 안 된다'는 뜻이다. 그리고 그 '누군가'에 해당하는 가장 중요한 사람은 자기 자신이다. 자기 자신을 대하는 방식은 타인을 대하는 방식에 그대로 반영된다. 자신을 사랑하지 않는다면 어떻게 타인을 사랑하는가?” (출처: facebook.com/poet.ryushiva/posts/431282203643538) “누군가를 대할 때 그가 스스로를 작고 하찮은 존재로 느끼도록 대해선 안 된다”라는 뜻을 지닌 단어 겐샤이, 우리 그리스도인은 타인 뿐만 아니라 우리 자신을 작고 하찮은 존재로 느끼도록 놔둬서는 안됩니다. 또한 우리 그리스도인은 타인 뿐만 아니라 우리 자신을 누군가보다 더 중요하고 우월한 존재로 느껴서도 안됩니다. 그저 하느님께서 우리를 당신의 자녀 삼으셨다라는 발판 위에 서야 합니다. 그저 하느님께서 우리를 죽기까지 사랑하셨다는 그 사실을 붙잡을 뿐 입니다. 하느님께서 나자렛 예수의 삶과 죽음과 부활을 통해 당신 자신 먼저 마음과 목숨과 뜻을 다해 우리를 아끼고 사랑하셨습니다. 이제 성체를 모실 때, 우리는 다시금 주님의 사랑을 확인합니다. 자신의 몸과 피를 내어 사랑하신 그리스도가 내 안에 들어 오실 때, 우리의 몸과 피를 내어 우리 이웃을 사랑할 수 있는 능력 또한 우리에게 있음을 기억합시다. 오늘 데살로니카인들에게 보낸 편지에서 나타난 성 바울로의 고백, “여러분을 극진히 생각하는 마음에서 하느님의 복음을 나누어줄 뿐만 아니라 우리의 목숨까지도 바칠 생각이었습니다. 우리는 그토록 여러분을 사랑했습니다.”고 말하는 성 바울로의 고백이 우리의 고백이 되길 빕니다. 그래서 끊임없이 불안과 공포, 혐오를 내뿜는 세상 앞에 마음과 목숨과 뜻을 다해 사랑하고, 또 “사랑하라” 외치고, 누군가 “너나 잘 하세요.”라고 빈정거리거든 “우리 같이 잘 해봐요.”라고 사랑으로 답하는 하늘뜻/뉴욕한인성공회 신자 여러분 되기를 성부와 성자와 성령의 이름으로+ 기원합니다. 아멘. What makes a story entertaining and intriguing is its unique and sometimes bizarre characters. The king in the parable palys that role. He's an eccentric figure. He’s not afraid to take revenge on those who disrespect him and his slaves. He also comes across being overly generous to the point where he invites everyone, whether good or bad to the wedding banquet. All are invited. Then he becomes quite moody and strict about the dress code that he kicks out someone who is invited, yet is not properly dressed.
The parable that Jesus tells us today in the gospel lesson directly targets the chief priests and the Pharisees since they're the main audience. These are the local religious authorities and elites who hate Jesus and plot to murder him. We all know they do succeed in crucifying him. In the parable, they are depicted as those who are originally invited to the wedding banquet but take it lightly and ignore the king’s invitation. They even kill the slaves who are sent to remind them of the party. All the king’s slaves represent the prophets such as Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and many others in the Hebrew Bible who are rejected by the Israelites. The latest one who is in this prophetic tradition is St. John the Baptizer. I don't believe Jesus is afraid to offend these religious authorities. He ticks them off and enrages them with his radical teaching and life. What’s most ironic about this parable, however, is this; all are invited to the wedding banquet. Good or bad, innocent or guilty, holy or sinful, rich or poor, young or old, documented or undocumented, LGBTQ or straight, white, black, brown, or yellow, no matter what, all are welcome. The Kingdom of God is open to all. It’s like what our Church sign says, “The Episcopal Church welcomes all.” We often forget this infinite wideness of God’s feast. Theologically speaking, it is always "catholic" in both space and time. The feast that Jesus embodies is still open to all, not because we are good, but because God is good. Now, with this unconditional invitation of God to the feast, what matters is the dress code, whether one wears a wedding robe or not. The king comes to the wedding banquet to see all the guests. He notices this unlucky man who is not properly dressed for the feast. We have been already warned about the king’s eccentricity. He asks this man, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” The man becomes speechless. The king orders his attendants to bind him hand and foot and throw him into the outer darkness. As I’m reflecting on the idea that it would’ve been better off if this man hadn't come to the feast from the beginning and how unfortunate he is, I am also thinking that he probably doesn’t even know why he is there, to which party he is invited, and what is really going on there. He is not at all prepared to celebrate the wedding that takes place. He’s at the wedding banquet but is still outside of it. His body is there, but his heart isn’t there. It’s like he has no eyes to see, no ears to hear, no heart to enjoy and celebrate the feast. He is there, but he has not really taken the invitation to his heart. He has not accepted the invitation. He has no knowledge that he is invited to the feast where everyone else is invited. The ones who are originally invited to the wedding banquet and those others like this man who are invited later, yet are without their wedding robes face the same destiny after all. The parable then questions us Christians, “What are we wearing?” I don’t mean this question to be figurative or rhetorical. What are we really wearing, receiving this invitation to the feast of God through Jesus Christ? This is not about how we should dress when we come to church, not about the Sunday best. This question of what clothes we are wearing every single day is really about how we look at the world in which we live. Jesus tells us in the parable that the world that he brings, proclaims, and embodies is the divine feast to be celebrated. In this world of Jesus, what are you wearing? Well, maybe we should first ask ourselves, “What kind of world are we living?” Is it the world filled with hatred, terror, violence, judgment, and punishment? Are we living in the Kingdom of God here and now on earth? What does your inner world look like? When we as Christians talk about the Kingdom of God and say the Lord’s Prayer, especially “Thy Kingdom come,” we are praying and proclaiming that God reigns in my inner world, that I’m accepting God’s forgiveness, mercy, compassion, and love for myself and others. Encountering our world that is far from grace, love, forgiveness, and peace, we might forget this divine feast Jesus brings. We might forget what we are supposed to wear. We might forget that we are already wearing our wedding robe, which is the cloth of our “baptism” but wearing something over it as if there’s no feast happening. So for us, it's not so much about wearing a wedding robe. We are already wearing one through the sacrament of baptism. Once we wear it, that is it. There’s no need to wash it or wear it on and off. What’s at stake is to undress whatever is covering this robe of our baptism. If we are wearing an armor for a battle or survival, that tells us the world we are living in is a dangerous place. Check if we are wearing something like prisoners of consumerism, ageism, sexism, racism, classism or all that unhealthy ideologies. If so, that means our world is that of economic, emotional, and spiritual oppression and discrimination. We as baptized in the death and resurrection of Christ are constantly called to undress whatever layers that are covering our true identity and unmask whatever we are hiding from to see and live in the world Christ envisions in the Beatitudes. "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets." (Lk. 6.20-26) This spiritual discipline of undressing and redressing means that we will not participate the feast of those who celebrate the golden calf or idols that are created by our own anxiety, lack of faith in God, and our desire to control. This spiritual act of undressing and redressing is about resisting the wedding banquet of idols and protesting against all the temptations of greed, selfishness, and evil and the messages of fear, anxiety, and despair. Practically speaking, reading and meditating the baptismal covenant time to time is a way to undress and redress:
And we respond to all these questions, “I will, with God’s help!” With this cloth of baptism, we see and celebrate the divine feast that Christ has brought to the world through his death and resurrection. With this wedding robe of baptism put on, we not only bring the feast of God to places of suffering and oppression but also join the feast of God already happening there. With this divine cloth called Christ, as St. Paul once said, “Put on Christ,” we sit with the poor and oppressed, not being afraid of our way into the cross with those suffering, yet placing our hope in the resurrection, living out the eternal feast of God Christ has opened to all, good or bad. We no longer are guests without a wedding robe but God’s slaves who are sent to invite all, good or bad in the parable. As God’s slaves, our wedding robe won't be clean. It will be stained with dirt, tears, or even blood. Putting on Christ is being wholeheartedly and absolutely involved and immersed in the suffering reality of our world that has forgotten the divine feast of Christ. Though this whole business of undressing and redressing, putting on Christ sounds daunting and somewhat scary, the Holy Spirit is always present in us, reminding us the taste of Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding banquet. As we eat the bread of life and drink the cup of salvation today, may Christ send us as his slaves to the world. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 16th Sunday after Pentecost/Proper 20A(Ex. 16.2-15; Ps. 105.1-6, 37-45; Phil. 1.21-30; Mt. 20.1-16)6/27/2018 Often, very often, we use these two words interchangeably, jealousy and envy, when some kind of covetous feeling arises. In fact, there’s a difference between jealousy and envy. Psychologically speaking, jealousy is when we worry that something or someone we think we possess will be taken away. I bet we all have experienced this feeling when someone becomes a threat, that he or she will take what we have. On the other hand, envy is wanting what someone else has. I want to take away what the other person has.
Jealousy is more about protecting yourself from having something taken away from you, whereas envy is taking away what the other person has. Both jealousy and envy can be harmful. In order to protect what we have from the other or to take away what the other has, we might even use violence. The parable of the laborers in the vineyard which we heard today might provoke feelings of envy and jealousy. There’s something deeply unfair about this. I don’t know about you, but as I’m reflecting on today’s gospel reading, I discover my own feelings of envy, jealousy, and anger as well as a sense of unfairness in regard to the landowner’s absurd generosity. I resonate so much more with those who came early and worked all day long. How about you? This is a matter of justice. Those laborers who got picked early in the morning do have a legitimate reason to protest against the landowner’s decision to pay everyone equally. We can easily imagine how these early comers would feel about the landowner. There’s anger at the landowner who is being unjust, unfair, and ridiculously generous and also anger at those who came late and got paid the same as they did. There’s jealousy of those who came late and took away a part of the amount that the early comers were supposed to get paid. And there’s envy that these early comers deserve to take away a portion of the pay that the latecomers received. It is not too difficult to be in their boat of anger, jealousy, and envy. We know all these emotions are judged as negative that we don’t want to feel. In a way, it causes a kind of emotional pain that reminds us we’re lacking something. For now, let’s not try to get rid of these feelings. Let’s not judge ourselves that we shouldn’t have these negative feelings, but consider them as helpful information that tells us something deeper about ourselves, particularly about how we understand God’s grace. As much as this parable of the laborers provokes a feeling of anger, envy, and jealousy, it also questions and challenges our understanding of God’s grace. How do we perceive God’s grace? Do we think that receiving God’s grace is the same as earning our wages? Is God’s grace something that we have to work hard to gain? Do we believe that we should get more of it if we do more? To all these questions I raise about God’s grace, the local religious authorities such as the Pharisees, scribes, rabbis, and chief priests would say “Yes” without any doubt. They’re like the laborers who bore “the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” If today’s parable is about how everyone should be paid and how a corporation should pay their employees, it is a great failure. From our perspective, the landowner is not a good business person. The vineyard won’t last long. Sooner or later it will go out of business if he keeps doing that. Rather, this parable is about God’s grace abundantly, equally, and unconditionally given to all. It shocks and disturbs us to reflect on how we think of God’s grace. Like the local religious leaders in Jesus’s time, we might unconsciously believe that if we pray harder, we should become wealthier, stay out of trouble, never get sick. If we come to church and participate more in church missions and volunteer services, nothing bad should happen to us. We might believe that doing more religious or pious things can earn us more of God’s grace than those heathens or slackers! Well, Jesus tells us a completely different message. We don’t and can't earn God’s grace on our own. God gives everyone God’s grace freely, unconditionally, and equally. This is God’s work initiated by God alone. We never took part of it. We didn't do anything to gain it but are invited to receive. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying doing something righteous is useless. It just becomes useless when you think that's the way to earn God’s grace. I speculate that one of the reasons why we, or speaking for myself, I can so easily, without any difficulty, join the early comers’ feelings of anger, jealousy, envy, and resentment is because I somehow believe I can earn more of God’s grace and as a priest I might deserve to receive more. Also, there’s this sin of mutual exclusion. My gain is your loss. Your gain is my loss. There’s a German word for this, “schadenfreude,” meaning that we experience pleasure or enjoyment from the failures, troubles, or humiliation of others. If I hold on to this belief that I have to work hard to get God’s grace, I shall be the last! And God’s unconditional grace comes to a person like me as God’s judgment, as God’s unfair verdict. The image of the disgruntled laborers in the parable of the laborers overlaps the image of the older son in the parable of the prodigal son. There’s this feast of God’s grace pouring out on the world, yet I cannot joyfully celebrate it with others. Can you celebrate this feast of God’s grace with others without resentment, envy, and jealousy? Although we may be able to understand intellectually what God’s grace is, we might have some hard time to accept it if our hearts don't feel it. Without the help of the Holy Spirit, we cannot accept God's grace with gratitude. Let’s not forget that God’s grace is nothing but the divine love shown in Jesus Christ. We are socially adapted and culturally educated to try so hard to be accepted, recognized, and loved by others. What God’s grace does to us, however, is that we are simply loved by God, not because of what we have achieved, not based on our looks, incomes, or pious activities. God loves you for who you are as a human being created in his image. However and how much you feel broken and insecure about yourself, God’s grace embraces you and assures you over and over again that you matter to God. Imagine what would’ve happened to the landowner in the parable. I have this wild ending that the laborers who worked all day long would’ve captured the landowner and murdered him. That's what happened to Jesus who embodied God’s grace. God’s grace led him to the cross. It shows us how the world that only serves itself could not accept God’s love as shown in Jesus. And God’s grace raised him from the dead to tell us that God’s love never dies. God’s grace is always available to us, and God desires us to desire and accept that grace. Every Sunday at the Eucharist, we kneel and open our palms. As we are on our knees, we let go of our power, but solely depend on the power of God. As we open our palms, we humbly receive God’s grace. We don’t pick and choose the host. We receive the love incarnate in our open palms. Because God loves us, God gives his whole being to us in Jesus Christ. We don’t try to work so hard to gain more. God’s grace is already given to us abundantly in the body and blood of Christ. How do we respond to this love of God? We respond to God’s love by loving and desiring Christ and others more and more. It’s like “I also want others to experience God’s love that transforms me!” I’d like to share the prayer of St. Aelred of Rievaulx, the 12th century English monk. He expresses his way of responding to God’s grace as follows: “I pray you, Lord, let but a drop of your surpassing sweetness fall upon my soul, that by it the bread of my bitterness may become sweet. In experiencing a drop of this, may I have a foretaste of what to desire, what to long for, what to sigh for here on my pilgrimage. In my hunger let me have a foretaste, in my thirst let me drink. For those who eat you will still hunger, and those who drink you will still thirst. Yet they shall be filled when your glory appears and when will be manifest the abundance of your sweetness, which you reserve for those who fear you, and disclose only to those who love you.” (Aelred of Rievaulx, The Way of Friendship, ed. M. Basil Pennington, p. 17) Our desire to love Christ deepens as we start seeing others, especially those who we think came late for work in the vineyard in the eyes of the landowner, in the eyes of God who looks at them and us all with the long loving look. May God fill all of us here gathered at St. Bartholomew’s with God’s grace that is poured upon the world unconditionally and equally. May God’s grace flow through us to our neighborhoods. May we also humbly receive God’s grace flowing through our neighbors. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
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