Showing posts with label Pentecost 19B. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pentecost 19B. Show all posts

Thursday, October 1, 2015

On Bandaged Fingers and Broken Hearts: Jesus' Words on Divorce

If you are a regular reader, you will know that I already posted some reflections on this Gospel reading. However, since I attempt to get something online in a timely way so as to be in conversation with other preachers, often my thoughts crystallize between then and when I actually preach on a particular text. What you see below is closer to what the people of my congregation will hear on Sunday.  Blessings to you in your continued study and in your proclamation!


I’ve been walking around with a large bandage on the ring finger of my right hand for the last week and a half.

Here is what happened. Ten days ago I got home from a few days away at our Synod’s Professional Leaders’ Conference. I was tired and feeling a little pressed by all the work in front of me when I returned. I decided I would go easy with supper and so I drove through Panera and picked up a couple of bowls of soup. I have done this before. And so I know that normally by the time I get it home, my mother usually prefers that hers be reheated. So I popped hers into the microwave for a minute. Sixty seconds.

Evidently I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was certainly in too much of a hurry. For when the timer went off, I opened the door and picked up the bowl with my bare hands. I got halfway to the kitchen counter with it when the heat from the bowl caused my hand to shake and the soup spilled over onto my right hand. And I’ve been sporting a bandage ever since.

It is true, I tried to hide it at first and perhaps it is so that most didn’t notice it. Although I don’t know how that would have been possible for these hands very publicly rested on the heads of nine high school freshmen who were confirmed last Sunday, served a whole lot of people bread at the communion table last week and shook countless hands on that day and every day since. I don’t know how anyone could have missed it. 

And yet, once the initial pain eased, I found I also didn’t have to think about it all that much either as I had it covered most of the time. I was taking the bandage off at night to let it breathe though. On Thursday morning I found myself studying the wound underneath the bandage, examining it to be sure it was healing. Wondering if it will leave a scar. Knowing it probably will. Realizing that this angry red mark on the fourth finger of my right hand is far from God’s intent for me. I mean, God gave me a brain. I know better than to pick up scalding things without something to protect my hands. There were reasons for my thoughtlessness, yes, but I do know better. And now I will carry a reminder of my mistake on my right hand for a very long time --- if not for the rest of my life. It is, if you will, adulterated. My hand was not born this way, not meant to be this way. I bear and probably will always bear the sign of my mistake where everyone can see it.

We all have wounds. Some of those wounds are visible. Some we are able to keep covered up. Some are physical. Others take a toll on our spirits. A lot of wounds leave scars. A whole lot of them.

Now I have to say this is probably my least favorite Gospel to preach on. It always has been --- surely this was so nearly thirty years ago when I was first called upon to step into a pulpit and consider Jesus’ words on divorce. Back then I ached to do so because I knew full well who in our midst would hear these words as judgment. And yet, I don’t like it any better today when I am so deeply aware that nearly all of us in one way or another have experienced the pain of divorce --- what led up to it and what follows --- hitting very close to home. 

Oh yes, all of us have wounds. Some of them are visible. Some we are able to keep covered up. They take a toll on our spirits. A lot of them leave scars. A whole lot of them.

And yet, even though perhaps we’d rather not, we are called upon to take Jesus’ words seriously today. But let me offer a couple of thoughts even as we seek to do so.

First there is this. While we take these words to heart, we must hear them not as judgment first but as simple description. Divorce is never part of God’s intent for us. God would never want our dearest hopes dashed, our spirits so crushed. God never wants the most vulnerable among us to be put at risk. Any time and every time something runs so far afield from God’s intent, it is a form of adultery.  Simply defined it is ‘impure.’ Not as it was meant to be.

And consider this. In his last words on this, Jesus is speaking in general, in a quiet moment away with his disciples. I can’t help but wonder how his words, his tone, his message would have been different if one who had been through such pain had actually been standing before him.

And consider this, too.  Jesus didn’t bring it up first. The Pharisees did. I don’t know what point they were trying to make, how they are attempting to entrap Jesus here, but certainly they are.

And finally this. When Jesus speaks of hardness of heart he is speaking into a time and place when women had no legal standing so they could not file for divorce. And apparently there then, as there are now, those who would divorce their wives and move on to another, leaving them and perhaps their children, too, destitute with nowhere to go, no means of living, no means of protection. Jesus is speaking against a practice which treated other human beings as less than precious and beloved by God.

And another. Men and women may both be guilty of this today. Indeed, perhaps we all are every day whenever we do not cherish those we have been given to love. No, it seems to me the judgment is not really on the actual divorce. But on all of us who fail to love as we ought.

And think of this with me.  It seems to me that as Jesus sees today how historically we have pulled these words out and forced them to stand alone and used them then to wound or ostracize or exclude those among us whose pain is simply more visible? I can’t believe he is pleased. No, indeed, his heart breaks with those whose hearts are broken. Whose wounds are deepened by our actions or in-actions in the face of such suffering. His heart breaks. And so should ours. So should ours.

So, no. I don’t much like it when these words roll around for us once more.

And yet, it is important to hear these words.

  • To be reminded that God cares so very much about those things which matter to us most of all.
  • To be urged once more to be wise and kind and thoughtful about the ways in which we tend those relationships which are so dear to us. To love well those we have been given to love.
  • To remember that wherever we cause each other pain, it is always adultery: never God’s intent for us.

But it is also ours to not forget that we all fail. Some of our wounds are just more visible. Everybody knows. Some we have managed to cover up. All of us yearn for healing. All of us carry scars.

So back to my bandaged finger. Everyone who has seen it or heard how it came to be, has winced in recognition. Yes, a few have shaken their heads at me, but not in cruelty or ridicule. Everyone has been kind. Our parish nurse even went out and bought me a box of extra-large bandages on that first day as we realized this was not going to be pretty. This has been gift to me in that even in something as small as a burned finger, we recognize our common humanity. Human flesh is fragile. So are human spirits. When we are broken, we are called to love each other.  Period.

May this be so in all of our lives.  For in Christ Jesus we are bound to one another in love. We are brought even closer to him and to one another by the power of forgiveness as we recognize our common wounded-ness and seek another way. This forgiveness heals and invites us every single day to be more and more about what God would have us be about with each other and for each other. Whether our wounds are visible or not. All of us. All the time. 
  • How do you understand Jesus' words on divorce? Do you hear them as judgment? As description? As both?
  • It seems to me that historically this teaching has at times been used to further wound those who are already wounded. What is your experience with this?
  • Is it so that in some sense we are all 'guilty' of the adultery Jesus points out today? What is your thinking on this?
  • Is it so that some of our wounds are simply more visible than others? Who are we called to be for those who are wounded?

Sunday, September 27, 2015

On Divorce and All of Us Little Children

Mark 10:2-16

When I was a young pastor this was a particularly challenging Gospel to preach. It still is, of course, but close to thirty years ago one was especially aware of the mere handful in our midst who had been divorced. Now, though, I am hard pressed to think of a family which in one way or another has not been touched by this: if not they themselves, then a child, or a sibling, or a parent. Somehow, though, I have to say that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to speak of this.

And yet, having suggested that it is more common today, I do have to wonder. For, in fact, there was a stretch of several years relatively early in my ministry when every couple I married divorced shortly thereafter. Every. Single. One. I started to wonder what I was missing. Most of them are a blur now, but one I do remember distinctly.

The bride to be was a little older than I was. Her fiance was quite a few years older than her. They had both been previously married. She had young children.

I was not yet thirty years old. When I sat down with them the first time, I remember him veritably sneering at me --- asking what it was I could possibly offer them, given my age and inexperience. I shouldn't have agreed to do the wedding, and yet I did. Within a year, they were divorced. I remember not being especially surprised. I remember wishing I had shown more courage those months before.

And yet, I have also had cause to celebrate with couples who have been married fifty and sixty years and more. I have offered blessings at parties and before the altar. I have witnessed devotion deepen and grow through good times and hard times both. And yes, I have to say I have also seen those who choose not to marry build a devoted partnership together.

At the same time, I have seen those, I have known those, who chose not to divorce and who certainly should have --- for the hardness of heart which Moses addressed so long ago had turned to resentment and cruelty --- sometimes dangerously so. And yes, I have known those who have divorced and who really needed to do just that to have any chance at the fullness of life and love God intends for us all.

And so it is that Jesus speaks of divorce in today's Gospel. His words fall hard on our ears for when we hear them the faces of loved ones or yes, our own hard earned experiences pass before our eyes and pierce our hearts. And yet, we certainly know what lies behind the words of Jesus today, perhaps especially if they hit close to home. I have not yet officiated a marriage celebration which was not marked by great hope. Couples bind their hearts, their habits, their finances, their dreams to one another. If they are so blessed they are joined by children who are reflections of them now and who catapult them into the future. Divorce is no simple breaking of a business contract. No, it is a tearing apart of much more than that. And it is so that while there are exceptions, very often children are the ones who suffer the most. For far too often one parent is more absent in every way than what can possibly be life giving for those who are most vulnerable.

Jesus speaks of divorce in today's Gospel. As he does so, it seems to me he reminds us of the preciousness of each and every one of us. That people are not meant to be used but are to be cared for and treasured as though the one we commit ourselves to were as dear to us as though we were actually physically joined to one another. Oh yes, Jesus is saying that the pain reflected in divorce was not and never will be part of God's intent. And yet, of course, normally that pain began long before attorneys were called and settlements and custody agreements were notarized.

Thirty years ago and more the words of Jesus were heard as judgment on those whose lives were reflected in them. And yes, perhaps, too often, those of us whose pain was not so public, were a little quick to judge. Today we may still hear these words as judgment, yes, but not only on those whose hearts and lives have been so broken. Certainly these words fall on all of us as we seek to support those who enter into such tender and fragile bonds with one another. Perhaps we do not do enough teaching, enough modeling,enough praying, enough upholding of each other. Perhaps. Oh yes, perhaps these words are a call to all of us to hold precious those closest to us. Like the little children we all are --- as Jesus urges us to be like in his welcome a few sentences later.

  • What experience do you have of divorce? How does that shape your hearing of today's Gospel?
  • Why do you think the image of Jesus welcoming children comes right after his teaching about divorce?
  • At first glance, it certainly is easier to hear more judgment than grace in this Gospel. Where do you find the Good News today?





Saturday, September 29, 2012

Divorce Court

Mark 10:2-16

Before I begin, let me say I write these words with humble heart today, asking forgiveness, if needed, of those who know more of what I attempt to speak than I can possibly begin to comprehend. Even so, I am diving in here, with a certain sense that this is tender ground we walk on now.
I wound up in the wrong Divorce Court a few weeks ago.

I had gone to support a friend, but was running a little late and there wasn't time to connect before her court time.  I entered the courtroom on the second floor, double checking the schedule outside the door just to be sure I was in the right one.  It appeared that I was.

I took my place quietly in the second row of hard wooden chairs and looked around.  I didn't see the person I had come there for, but it did seem as though things were running behind.  Besides, I've been through this before with ones dear to me.  Sometimes people are meeting with attorneys behind other closed doors.  So I sat quietly and watched and waited while pair by pair men and women stood before the judge.  He would ask questions.  They would respectfully answer 'yes' or 'no.'  He would tell them to come back later or would reflect on the fact that one or the other hadn't shown up the last time or he would double check to be sure they knew what it meant that they were going ahead without legal representation.  I was especially struck by the couple who found themselves standing there after having been married less than a year.  There were no children to be considered and little material property accumulated, so in their case it really did appear to be cut and dry.  That's only the case though if one doesn't consider the human toll...

It felt strange to sit and watch and listen without emotional attachment to any of the parties.  I have sat in that chair before when this was not the case --- when my heart was literally breaking for the pain behind the formal words spoken and perfunctory decisions made.  When I believed that divorce was as right as it could be, necessary even, for the individuals involved to come to any kind of healing and wholeness.  But even in those times, just like on this recent afternoon, the fact that we know that marriage is a contract which can be broken with a few strokes of a pen and entries into a computer database doesn't begin to get at the struggle behind it all. One might not at first notice if you sat next to me on this recent afternoon, that in every single case there were lives leaving the courtroom limping, wounded in ways which might well take years and years to heal.  For human beings can't be quantified on paper.  We enter into such 'contracts' with open hearts and when the wounds become so deep the marriage can no longer be sustained, that does not necessarily mean the wounds just go away.  Both the wounds that are old and those that continue to be inflicted among and between the people involved.

This week, again, we have before us one of those texts many of us pastors would rather avoid.  We have wondered at the meaning of these words in our own lives, perhaps.  Or we have people in our congregations who are divorced and many of them, if they are so blessed, have found a way to love again. Jesus' words about 'adultery' seem harsh to us... and perhaps that is made more so by the church's long standing tendency to make more of this particular human failing or struggle than we have of others.  Those who have somehow survived divorce itself with all of its heart-wrenching losses --- of relationship or hope or place in a community or some combination thereof, are left then to sort out just what that means among the rest of us who almost can't seem to keep ourselves from choosing sides --- leaving one or the other out.  It happens in congregations, too, to be sure.  I know you've seen it where both members of a couple have been active and then one or the other has to choose whether to move on or to stay in a place where they may not feel nearly as welcome as before.  And yes, even today, with all of its prevalence, there is still a kind of judgment that comes as we seem compelled to sort out fault and blame, seeking perhaps to begin to understand.  My heart breaks every time.

And so it is I don't know exactly how I'll preach this week.  I can offer here only a few starting thoughts.

1.  You will notice that Jesus doesn't jump immediately into the debate.  He puts it back on those asking the question with another question.  To be sure, the Pharisees make no mention of, not even the slightest nod to the often profound human pain behind their challenge.  They seem entirely insensitive to the real brokenness behind the scenario they offer now as they try to trip Jesus up.

2.  It seems to me that Jesus' speaking of adultery here is simply descriptive.  It is just plain hard.  Such brokenness can not be within God's intent for any one of us.  Adultery, in its most basic sense, means that something has been altered at its core in a way that was not intended at its inception.  God does not intend for this to be.  In fact, the 'adultery' might well have been so many years before one is divorced and remarried.  For wouldn't cruelty, abuse, disdain, and neglect also be outside of God's intent?  

3.  I think if Jesus were to step into the experience of any one of us who has known the judgment of others in the wake of divorce --- I think Jesus today would turn it back on those of us who are inclined to judge.  For that can't be what God intends either.  Indeed, although my own experience does not fit the scenario behind Jesus' words today, am I not also guilty of adultery?  Am I not also among those not living up to or into the life God fully intended for me?  Who am I to judge?

4.  I am grateful that at least this text takes this on.  For shouldn't we in the church be able to talk about the things that matter?  Even so, it is always risky from the pulpit where what we say can easily be so misunderstood --- especially since there is seldom ready opportunity for those engaged in the listening side of the exchange to ask questions or to seek clarification.

5.  I do still wonder though where the 'grace' or 'gift' is in this hard text.  Is it in what I have already named or is it something else?  What do you think?

No, I don't know exactly how I will preach this week.  I hope I will do so with gentleness and with grace.

As for my trip to Divorce Court a few weeks ago, I never did find my way to the right courtroom.  I was sorry I wasn't there to support a friend.  As I left though, I found myself deeply aware of what a rare thing it is to sit in a place like that without the ties of history or loyalty --- to not sit there with a broken heart.  I wasn't sorry for the experience, but as I preach this week I will do so knowing that almost none of us have the privilege of walking into those places detached from the struggle and hurt of it all.  I hope that knowledge will shape my preaching, too.

  • What experience do you bring to this text this week?  Have you ever sat with broken heart in such a place?  If so, how has that shaped your life and faith?  How does that impact how you read and understand Jesus' words today?
  • Do you think people of faith still put the same stigma on divorce as we once did?  Why or why not?  If so, why do you think that is? If not, then what has changed?
  • What is the 'good news' of this lesson before us now?  Where do you discover God's love and grace within these words?