Stone Unstacked Upon Stone

Mark 13: 1-8, 1 Samuel 2:1-10

These passages sail the shores of emotion this morning. The song of Hannah is a prayer of thankfulness for the lifting of what in those days was the curse of barrenness by a woman who has had a child, and that child having being dedicated into the service of God.

Contrast that with the worry and the concern with the end of the world, which is coming, in the context of Jesus saying that there will soon be a time when the temple will be destroyed, and not one stone will be left upon another. This is the scariest thought possible for the Jews of that day.

It’s hard to read the Bible sometimes, when here is such a spread of emotion. We read the Joy of the song of Hannah, and we think of people who have not had that joy; who have gone through months, maybe years of in vitro fertilization, spending thousands of dollars; who have gone through years of trying, and perhaps have even been stonewalled while trying for adoption.

We read that song, and then we read immediately after this the Mark passage, which talks about destruction and fire and the end of the world, and the cornerstone of the Jewish identity at that time being destroyed, and we find ourselves more familiar with the Mark passage. Perhaps it is hard to think about, but effectively, the end of the world is more comfortable to think about than the joy of a new mother.

We have all had loss in our lives. Somehow, somewhere, there are people we have lost. Parents, spouses, children, aunts, uncles, grandparents, grandchildren, and we can’t also ignore that some of us may have lost friends that were closer to us than any family member.

Frankly, it’s easier to get our heads around stories of loss in scripture than stories of Joy. We distrust joy, don’t we?

We live in an area of the country that has not had a positive economic forecast for 60 years. The Knox Mine disaster happened, and the economy craters. Then comes Hurricane Agnes, and the crater gets deeper. This area has never recovered completely. There are efforts, and they do work partially, but don’t you find yourself expecting wonderful economic efforts, civic improvements; don’t you expect them to fail at some level in your mind? It’s easier to hear bad news; we’re more used to it here.

But let me tell you a story about this. Outside of the narratives we have in the gospels, and Acts, the story continues. Yes, in AD 70, the temple was destroyed. Stone was indeed unstacked from stone, and there was fire and broken walls. When you see people today lined up in Jerusalem against what’s called the Western Wall, praying and putting pieces of paper into the chinks on the walls, that wall isn’t even a wall of the temple. It was the retaining wall that enclosed the temple. The temple was destroyed so utterly, that the best remnant we have is just the enclosure, not even the temple itself!

And with the loss of the temple, the idea of how to be a Jew ceased to be possible in the old way. Many, many people lost their faith because they lost their practice. No more temple sacrifices, no more priests.

But oddly enough, there were already synagogues and rabbis present, and in the absence of the sacrificial ritual, the religion shifted to knowledge of Torah, and Judaism rebuilt itself fundamentally. In that complete redesign of how to be a Jew, new joys were created, new moments were sanctified, and God was shown to still be with the people. Even after something that cataclysmic, God was still present.
Imagine the collective state of mind after the towers fell on 9/11. How shocked we were, how angry we were, what our thoughts of doubt were. Now add to that the component of something like that being the ONLY religious outlet for a whole religion, the focus of all faith, being destroyed like that.

But the faith did not die. It changed, it metamorphosed, it grew. There were other dangers in the history to come. We can talk about Pogroms, we can talk about the Klan, we can talk about the Holocaust.

But there is still joy expressed in the faith. The Song of Hannah is still sung by those who feel joy in God. So it is with them, so it is with us.

Yes we have all lost friends, we have all lost family. But the sun does rise the next morning. There are new joys. Life changes, but it continues. There is always a new joy to look forward to. Perhaps the prospect of grandchildren. Perhaps success in a job you don’t even hold yet. Perhaps friends you don’t yet know that will hold your heart in their hands, and will bless you.

They are always coming. We are always becoming.

Sometimes, the anticipation of the worst thing that has ever happened to you is worse than the actual event. We don’t always know it’s coming. Car accidents, heart attacks, are always sudden traumas. But if we have sat with loved ones in their illnesses, and watched them decline, the actual event of their deaths is sometimes less a blow than a relief. We’ve thought about it, we’ve stayed up nights worried about it, we have seen lawyers and funeral directors to prepare for it, and that is usually worse than the actual passing.

Sudden or lingering death, a divorce, a job loss, all of these are traumatic. They are all major changes to our internal narrative, the story we tell ourselves about how the world is going to go.

But we know from our faith and this book that there are joys ahead of us. Our faith tells us that the end of the road is joy, no matter how much pain there is in the meantime. In the end, Revelation tells us, we don’t go to heaven; heaven, the new Jerusalem, comes to us!

There is always tomorrow. The sun always comes up, and god is always with us. Even when we can’t see God, even when we don’t want to see God, God is still with us and understands us.

After all, God lost a child, too.

Crack in the Windshield

Mark 12:38-44

There’s a story I read this week about a little boy who had not been buying his milk at school. The father, who found this out eventually, was concerned about bullies, or more, that the boy was squirreling away the money for candy or video games or something. So he confronted the boy about keeping secrets, and sent the boy to his room.

The boy’s teacher called the next day and told the father that she wasn’t sure if he knew, but that his son had been, all week, dropping his milk money in the collection box the school had set up for Hurricane Sandy relief.

We live in a world, and in a time, where it is a good thing to be known for the gifts that you give. Twice a week, while I am at The University of Scranton for school, I go buy coffee and a snack from the DeNaples Student Center. Last week, I went to see a famous comedian at the F.W. Kirby theatre in Wilkes Barre. Some of us will go see Mannheim Steamroller or a Penguins game at the Mohegan Sun Arena.

I’m not so sure that’s a bad idea. It’s good to be known for something. It’s good that we know that Bill and Melinda Gates have given two BILLION or so dollars for poverty relief in Africa. There is no way that we, in this congregation, even if we sold the church building, all of our cars, all of houses, liquidates every last asset and emptied out the kids’ piggy banks, there is now way we could even come within miles of two billion dollars. So for the folks who can, they should, and if they want to honor someone with the gift, like Ross Perot did with his friend Morton H. Myerson in Dallas when they build the new symphony hall there, so be it! It’s fine.

But under no circumstances should we think we can do it all ourselves. Not even Bill and Melinda, for all that money, have made a major dent in poverty in Africa. Two billion dollars is just a rock chip in the windshield of the car that is African poverty. Not even the United Methodist Church has helped to completely eradicate malaria. We’ve contributed to halving new cases of the disease through the Nothing but Nets program, yes, but it isn’t completely gone.

To support a congregation takes the congregation. To support a fire company takes the whole fire company. It is a sign of participation.

And, yes, while that widow has given what she could, the rich folk bring in their large sums, and make their big shows, in this story, what is in common between them is Jesus’ lesson. It’s not about supporting institutions; money spends like money, whether it’s sacrificial giving or a tax write off.

To me, why Jesus points out the woman to the disciples, is that she gives all. She gives her last copper coins. She is serving God out of a perception of abundance, not of scarcity. There are times, in our lives, when we can afford to great and generous spirits. Say your child has left the house; they’ve gone to college or to their own place, and while your disposable income has increased, it is also true that your available time has increased. Say you add to that mix that you have retired. Disposable income, and time on your hands. It is no surprise then, that many people choose this time in their lives that people do mission trips-most of the trips I’ve been on have been populated by people of late middle age, with time and discretionary income. When you get the chance, you will support the things that important to you.

We are called, as followers of Christ, to give. In the United Methodist Church, we try to think in terms of Prayers, Presence, Gifts, Service, and Mission.

Serve the church, lift up your church with your prayers.

Give to the church with your presence. Be present. Be active.

Gifts: this can be your talents, yes, but it can also be the things that you are involved in, like donating Avon to a homeless shelter, or making a basket of spa items for a silent auction. We all have many gifts.

Service: when the church needs help, as an organization, to serve on a committee, this is what they mean. When a friend calls and says she needs help cooking lasagna for the mission down the street, this is what is meant by service; service to Christ, in Christ’s name.

Mission: What is our mission? To make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. To show God’s love to a world that is eternally in need of it. To invite them to experience God’s love.

Everybody always wants to make the “Widows’ Mite” scripture one about pledging financial support to the church. It falls at the right time every third year, right about when churches (the ones that do such a thing, anyway) program their stewardship campaigns. But Jesus sees more in the woman than just a poor widow dropping her last bits into the donation box. He sees a generosity of spirit, he sees a spirit of abundance, and he wants the disciples to take note.

This is our lesson. We have nothing to be afraid of. Some people have lost power since the storms last week, there are a few that have not yet gotten it back. But it is a matter of days or weeks, and then we will quickly take it for granted then. Some had their food-and-housing secure lives interrupted for a while, but the status quo for them is that they are secure in where they live, they do know where their next meal is coming from. We DO live in a world of unimaginable abundance. We don’t have to imagine, more than we can even think of is right here.

We have been blessed. And because of whom we have been blessed by, because we have everything we need and more, that “More” is to be used for others who are in need. Whatever we define as more; financial, material, spiritual; however we are led by the spirit, we should keep in mind that that excess, that surplus, is meant for the world. It can be something as simple as energy. As complex as managing a portfolio or providing psychological counseling in a free clinic on our free days; and yes, it can be money, too.

But because we have been given our lives, because we have been given reassurance that when we are gone from this earth, that is not the end. The things of this earth are given to us to support ourselves and others.

This should be our whole spirit, not just our checkbooks. The widow, according to Jesus, understood this, and was able to give all: Prayers, Presence, Gifts, Service, and Mission.

What are your gifts, and where will you direct them?