Readings for October 27, 2013
Pentecost 23 | Proper 25(C) | Lectionary 30

• Sirach 35:12-17 
  
• Psalm 84:1-7  
  
• 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18  
  
• Luke 18:9-14
  

Jewel on the Hill, Pastor Fred Kinsey
The Iron County Court House, was called “The Jewel of Iron County,” in rural, Iron County Michigan, where I once lived.  Appropriately, it was built atop the hill, that the main street ascended towards, and could be seen all around town.  Inside, the District Attorney’s office was the most plush and revered, for it symbolized the apex of justice for Iron County. 

But over the past dozen years, the DA’s Office had had a string of corrupt Prosecutors who inhabited that lofty office.  Not nearly as famous as Illinois’ jailed Governors, but none-the-less, notable in those parts.  And now, a bright young new star was elected and installed, and he pledged to be different.  He would uphold the good and the right, and in particular, he promised to go after the drug and alcohol problems that plagued the county.  8 out of 10 crimes of those housed in the county jail were related to drunkenness and drug abuse.  This new Prosecutor talked tough, and he set himself apart from the bad guys, denouncing their lifestyle, and giving the impression that “he was glad he was not like those other people.”  He appeared at community events, flag raising ceremony’s, service clubs, and ‘Just Say No’ to Drugs rally’s, at the schools.  He was the model of justice and righteousness -- our Chief Prosecutor of crime! 

Then one morning, in the local paper, the news headline read: “Iron County Prosecutor Arrested Buying Percocet® Outside Courthouse”!  Turns out, the specially funded Michigan undercover cops, the Upper Peninsula Substance Enforcement Team, or UPSET, had been following a lead for months, which finally led them right to the #1 Lawyer and Prosecutor of drugs and crime for Iron County!  The one who “trusted in himself that he was righteous, and regarded others with contempt,” our self-righteous Iron Co. Prosecutor, himself, had an addiction to pain killers, that he couldn’t admit he couldn’t control.  So desperate was he, that he was lured into buying them from UPSET, just across the street from the Courthouse, ‘the Jewel of Iron County’, the ‘lovely dwelling place’ as the Psalmist refers to the Temple in Psalm 84, the people’s monument to righteousness, at the very top of the hill, the most visible spot in town. 

In Luke’s parable about going to pray, the upright, and possibly uptight, Religious Leader [Pharisee] and a cheating Tax Collector, ‘went up to the Temple,’ ‘the lovely dwelling place’ of God.  This magnificent Jewel of Jerusalem, recently rebuilt by Herod, was on top of the hill, called Zion, a beacon of righteousness.  Luke’s readers would have been intimately familiar with these two characters, or at least their caricatures, and how Luke consistently describes them throughout his gospel.  One has grown up in the faith, been a dutiful worshiper all his life, done all that was required of him.  I don’t know about you, but I have friends like this!  He worked hard at it, and couldn’t help reminding God in his prayer that he fasted not just once, but twice a week.  He gave not only a tenth of his crops and livestock that was required by law, but tithed on all his income, an offering that went above and beyond his duty. 

The Tax Collector, everyone knew, was the villain.  Obviously!  Everyone knew he worked for the enemy, the Romans, collecting numerous taxes that added up to a servitude and bondage to the Empire that was far in excess of the mounting taxes and fees that even we are familiar with as residents of the City of Chicago, Cook County, the State of Illinois, and the federal government, combined.  And most of it, in the case of the Israelites, never trickled back to their benefit.  Though, it’s true, most of those Roman tax collectors didn’t get rich either.  To turn a profit, they had to skim a little here, and a little there, from the workers on the bottom rung of the ladder, and everyone knew it.  The tax levy itself, went to Rome.  But still, it was not an honorable way to make a living, and since no one likes to pay taxes very much in the first place, the tax-collector became a caricature of society’s hated ones, and were lumped in with the other outcasts and sinners. 

Jesus exploits this understanding of Pharisees and Tax Collectors in his Parable, by reversing our expectations about trusting our righteousness before God.  Even what is unredeemable in our eyes, may be found to be worthy of saving in God’s eyes.  “I came to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance”, Jesus said when he called Matthew the Tax Collector to be one of his Disciples, earlier in Luke’s Gospel.  Again in the Parable of the Lost Sheep, Jesus concluded, “there is more joy in heaven over the repentance of one sinner than in the 99 righteous”. 

And so, there’s righteousness, and, there’s self-righteousness.  “For all who exalt themselves,” said Jesus, “will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” 

I have been to Western Wall of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, all that’s left of that 1st Century Crown Jewel.  The Temple itself is long gone, but there is still a steady stream of those who come to pray at the ruins of that remaining wall.  All who come to pray, and you may have seen pictures of this, are separated in two – not for righteous and un-righteous, important religious leaders and sinful tax-collectors, but to honor Orthodox Jews who still worship, men on one side, women on the other.  And never, when I was there, did I see any Jews, Christians or Muslims, praying in anything but a respectful posture – no boasting or blaming, but only sincere and heartfelt prayers. 

Martin Luther – who we commemorate on Reformation Day, this Thursday, October 31 – described Christian believers as, “both saint and sinner at the same time”.  And he was a firm believer that we ought to ask humbly for forgiveness and renewal daily.  That we should, upon waking every day, make the sign of the cross, to remember our baptism, ask for forgiveness, and give thanks for God’s gift of a clean slate and the new life going forward. 

The Iron Co. Prosecuting Attorney, a self-proclaimed saint, who forgot he was also a sinner, set himself above the law, apart from others he liked to look down upon, and ‘went down’ to the jail, in the basement of the Iron County Courthouse, to his new ‘home,’ not in the righteousness he once claimed and paraded around town in, but in utter shame.  Having ‘exalted himself,’ he was now ‘humbled.’

The challenge for us, of course, is to notice that we rather like being exalted, ourselves, rather than humbled.  And we might begin to believe that, things we do, even when we think they’re done out of humility, really, just might, justify us, at least a little, might make us a bit better than those who fail where we succeed. But, until we let go of that notion, the parable suggests, we will not ‘go home justified.’  This is why we have an opportunity for Corporate Confession and Forgiveness at the beginning of our liturgy, in this season.  It is the first step in acknowledging our sins and humility before God. 

And yet,  if this first step is always in danger of turning back in on itself, towards self-righteousness, what can we possibly do as a people of faith?  Is there a next step?  It’s so hard for us to see as modern Christians in an era of Individualism, and in a post-modern world of relativism.  But I would suggest that the answer lies, in realizing with Luther, and the Iron County Prosecutor, that we are not in control of our addictions, and must enter more deeply into living as community.  The next step then, is to become an effective Christian community, to assume the larger responsibility of faith, and to transform our humility incarnationally, into ‘the righteousness of the Body of Christ’ for the world, living and working for justice and peace.  Until then, we’ll just be prisoners to our own small righteousness.  The world, it turns out, is really the judge of our righteousness.  Maybe not as far as our salvation goes – that’s up to God – but as far as the image we project as the church, as the Body of Christ, to the world.  Until we take this next step, we as an Assembly, will only work against our own vision and mission, and the face we present to our neighborhood – despite our best internal efforts – will not look all that inviting or welcoming! 

We are saints and sinners at the same time – we are the jewel and apple of God’s eye, and at the same time, we are the tax-collector, beating our breasts in humility.  We are a shining beacon on a hill, and, addicted to being on the take right across the street, in clear view of all.  The good news is that, even what is unredeemable in our eyes, may be found to be worthy of saving in God’s eyes.  When we accept who we are, locating our authentic identity in God, then we find we are poised to grow as an effective community, for the life of our neighborhood and world.

Was Jacob dreaming?  Did he possibly project his fear of meeting up with his brother onto a wrestling match with God?  What was the blessing he received at daybreak from the divine being?  Was it the new name Israel?  Was it the dislocated hip?  Or yet something else not named? 

One thing for sure, Jacob is persistent, just like the widow in Luke’s gospel who continually bugs the unjust judge for justice, until he gives in!  They’re both relentless.  They have a dream, a vision, a passion, they won’t let go of until they get it. 

Our vision is to be an urban green space, welcoming everyone into a holy encounter where we are changed, that all may be fed as Jesus feeds us.  And we continue to pursue it with a passion.  We do it both collectively together, and individually on our own, like Jacob.

Jacob, you see, one of the Patriarch’s, is more than a personality.  He represents the whole nation, a rather incredible character.  And so, not surprisingly, at Theology on Tap last Wednesday, we talked a lot about Jacob.  Not everyone remembers his story.  Who really is he?  Soap opera fans will actually understand it much more easily than history buffs, I’d guess.  This is the stuff made of legends.  One thing it’s not about is raising up a moral character for Israel and Christianity.  Jacob is a conniver, a cheat, a trickster – he steals, and he is a polygamist.  And, at the same time, he’s one of the founding fathers of the faith!  Is he real, embellished, or imagined?  Hero, or goat?  Individual person or the whole people?

Jacob is at a crossroads on this night at Penuel.  He is about to meet with his older twin brother Esau for the first time in a very long time.  Jacob and Esau, opposites as any twins could be, have been at odds ever since birth, when Esau, emerging first, was followed by Jacob, who it is said, was grabbing hold of Esau’s heel!  Esau grew in his father’s eyes because he was big and strong, a hunter and farmer.  Jacob was his mother Rebekah’s favorite, a quiet, introspective home-body, who liked to cook, and apparently absorbed ‘the book’ about relationships, and how to manipulate them, from mom! 

Then there is their growing up together as brothers’ story.  It happened when Jacob had been in the tent cooking lentil stew one day.  Esau came in from the field famished from his sweaty work.  And Jacob calmly extorted his brother, using the meal he’d concocted, as leverage to steal his first-born brother Esau’s birthright!  ‘Promise me,’ Jacob says, before serving it up.  And Esau, deciding that feeding his face was worth the trade, at least in that impulsive moment, swore to Jacob his birthright: a double portion or more of the family’s wealth, when father Isaac died. 

But by tradition, it would have to be confirmed by their father.  And so, with Rebekah’s help, that’s just what they do!  When Isaac is literally on his deathbed – I told you it was like a soap opera! – Rebekah and Jacob get busy scheming.  Esau is out hunting for the meal his father requested for his last supper, before blessing him.  But Jacob quickly brings his mom some tender veal, to prepare, just as Isaac likes it.  Then she takes some of the sheep skins to wrap on Jacob’s arms, in case old Isaac, who is blind, wants confirmation he’s giving the blessing to his older son, Esau, the hairy one.  Jacob the smooth skinned, “smooth operator” equipped now with roast veal and Esau-like manly arms, goes into the chamber and successfully cheats his brother once again. 

Once it’s done, not even father Isaac can take the Blessing back.  And when Esau returns from the hunt, his gift no longer needed, he lets out a primal scream, enraged at his brother Jacob, and plans to take revenge and kill him.  But, in the days Esau dutifully observes the mourning of his father, Jacob escapes. 

At the urging of his parents, Jacob goes on to marry Uncle Laban’s daughters.  But then in a brilliant get rich scheme, Jacob tricks his uncle by setting up what is probably the 1st gene manipulation for profit scheme ever, with his uncle’s sheep!  And soon Jacob is on the run again, having alienated another family member, leaving Laban with the weakened sheep, as he absconds with the super strong ones. 

Which brings us back to today’s story, the night before Jacob and Esau meet again.  So, there’s a lot of water under the bridge with Esau, and Jacob has gotten tired of running.  He plans to come home and make up, if that’s possible.  He has already mended fences with Uncle Laban, and now, perhaps a bit older and wiser, he wishes for the same with Esau.  First he decides to send lavish gifts to appease his brother, a sign he is coming, and a good will gesture, by the ‘smooth operator,’ hoping it may smooth over past hurts. 

So, that night, by the Jabbok river, Jacob wrestles a man until daybreak.  Was Jacob just dreaming?  His whole life is flashing before his eyes, perhaps, as he fears the morning, and meeting his brother again.  The wrestling match is a primordial one.  Neither can prevail, so “the man strikes Jacob on the hip socket; and puts it out of joint.”  But still, Jacob won’t let go – he is persistent.  Not until he blesses him.  That’s when the man, with the power of God, renames him: “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” 

Not bad!  Jacob has wrestled, and has prevailed, with God.  But for Jacob, that’s still not enough!  “Please tell me your name,” Jacob asks him?  But he replies, “Why is it that you ask my name?”  This question goes unanswered, but continues to echo down to us, today.  As we wrestle with who we are, with siblings and jobs, with friends and every kind of oppression, we strive to figure out, who we are, as creatures of God?  Jacob names the place, Penuel, which translates roughly, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.”

So, as Jacob, now Israel, limps away, oddly, he is better prepared to see his brother Esau.  He breathes more easily, confident the face of his brother is not his worst fear, having wrestled with, and seen the face of God!  Jacob has endured the hardest thing, just like the experience of baptism for us.  In the waters of baptism, we know we are drowned of all our past human failings, and we come up out of the waters with Christ, from death to life, having nothing more to fear, because God has given us a blessing.  This is how Jacob, limping along, pensive, but not fearful any longer, crosses the Jabbok River to finally face his brother.

Still, as with any of our difficult encounters with one another, Jacob cannot know what will happen next.  But walking toward each other, it is Esau who runs out to meet him, just like the father does for the Prodigal Son, and he embraces Jacob and they fall all over each other weeping.  When Esau politely declines the gifts Jacob had brought, Jacob insists, because, “to see your face,” he says, “is like seeing the face of God.”  “Truly, God has dealt graciously with me.”  Jacob is able to see God in the gracious gift of forgiveness from his brother.

Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and later, the stories of Jacob’s son Joseph, are the stories of Israel’s Patriarchs.  And, of all of them, it is Jacob who is central, the one who God continues to love, and who God renames, Israel.  Jacob is representative of the whole nation of Israel.  Jacob's life of contentiousness, is Israel's stormy history with God.  His refusal to let God go in that midnight wrestling match, is the people of Israel clinging to the covenant of Moses.  And God's blessing to him, is the Chosen People’s very existence! 

We are Israel too, of course.  Not literally, not of the same tribe as the Hebrews.  But as a Gentile people, a people born of the spirit, we too are a people whose faith comes from Abraham and Sarah, Jacob and Leah.  We too are wrestlers!  We are persistent like Jacob, and the widow, demanding justice. 

Have you ever been contentious or conniving at times, jealous of your brothers and sisters, and willing to use the nuclear-option for your own gain.  Have you hurt your sibling or best friend?  Cheated them?  Or, maybe they’ve hurt you?  Do you not talk anymore?  How can you reconcile?  Do you wrestle with yourself on how that might happen?  What risk are you willing to take to find peace?   

Jacob teaches us to not let go, even at the cost of a limp, or other scars.  Because of the faithfulness of Jesus, and the promise of our baptisms’, we know God will not let us go either.  God’s blessing, is our very existence. 

Let us gather at the table of blessing, light a candle in thanksgiving, and receive the oil of healing – that in all our wrestling’s, we may be assured of grace and love, from the font of forgiveness.  

Readings for this Sunday