Let Christ the King Occupy Our Lives

Since mid-September of this year, the media had been talking about this new thing called “Occupy Movement”. Most TV channels, when airing their newscast, would have reports about this movement which have lately been identified with local places of action, as in Occupy Wall Street, Occupy Oakland, Occupy San Francisco, Occupy London, to name just a few.

Having grown worldwide, the "Occupy Movement" has attracted public attention; perhaps because of the violence that seems to dovetail with almost all of the protests. Due to this emphasis on the negative side, a good number of the public have remained uninformed on the very reason for its being, its raison d’être.

I am among those who may have a minimal knowledge of the intricate web of design behind how the movement has now evolved into what it is. Yet, on the other hand, I am aware of its formative beginnings and of how this was chosen as the venue to lodge protests against those that wield economic power in our society.

The “Occupy Movement”, minus the violence erupting from confrontations and minus the encampments and the horrible images affixed to them, was and still is a timely recourse when calling for an end of the injustices that emanate from those economic structures and systems that have become oppressive to the ones referred to as the 99%.  

This claim for its justification and timeliness validates the continued proliferation of injustices in different cultures, time and place. How true, indeed, that forms of injustices have been so much a part of history and while efforts to correct them have produced dissimilar results, the common thread is that they’ll remain with us, until someone fashions the right “Occupy Movement” in the future.

Perhaps, it will come to pass at the day of Final Reckoning, the End of Ages, when the King of kings and Lord of lords will address the dissolution of all forms of injustices and supplant them with acts of mercy, love and forgiveness. For now, I guess, we should “wait a time with patience” and perhaps, use the present moment as a window of opportunity to learn how some forms of injustices had been addressed in the past.

Of particular interest to us would be the injustices that have befallen our forefathers in our Judeao-Christian heritage. The Book of the prophet Ezekiel contains imageries that allude to injustices and how these were played out in the relationship between God, His people Israel and those to whom leadership had been entrusted. Ezekiel uses the image of sheep and shepherds to represent the relationship between Israel and those who have power and authority over them. The failure of the shepherds in safeguarding the sheep entrusted to their care is a picture of the same failure that Israel’s leaders are guilty of, towards the discharge of their duties.

These accusations are found in Chapter 34 of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel. What we have in today's reading (Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24) is the continuation of God’s critique of the abuse of power among His people, and a description of God’s alternative ways of resolving those injustices. Ezekiel, as he does in the preceding verses, again employs the image of a flock of sheep and shepherds and says that there have been strong sheep that have thrown their weight around to bully and abuse the weaker ones. The allusion to injustice is that in the process of bullying and abusing, the stronger ones have reserved all the best pasture for themselves and grown fat on it, while those they bullied have become skinny and weak.

What we have in the description of guilty shepherds and bullying sheep is a picture of injustice; of power being selfishly wielded for its very own benefit. To use the lingo of the “Occupy Movement”, it’s the 1%, the ones who wield the scepter of economic authority, who exercise their power in order to improve their own investments, their “pasture” so to speak, with no thought for the needs of others, the so called 99%.

Similar to the ovine imagery of “butting and pushing with flank and shoulder” and edging out the rest of the flock, particularly the weaker ones, our contemporary scenario points to how this has become the normal pattern of the way things operate. And this has to stop.

Ezekiel tells of God’s way to curb this injustice; of God denouncing such power hoarder and promises a very different kind of leadership. Yahweh, through the Prophet Ezekiel, says: “I will rescue them from all the places to which they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land; and I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the watercourses, and in all the inhabited parts of the land. I will feed them with good pasture, and the mountain heights of Israel shall be their pasture; there they shall lie down in good grazing land, and they shall feed on rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will make them lie down, says the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them with justice.”  (NRSV Ezekiel 35: 12b-16)

What we have here is a total contrast between Israel’s leaders’ unjust ways and Yahweh’s acts of justice! It is a description of power, exercised not for its own sake, but for the benefit of the people, and especially for the benefit of those who are bereft of power, the lost, the strayed, the wounded, the ones without adequate resources.

This is so similar with the hopes and expectations that the 99% of the “Occupy Movement” continue to carry on amidst harmful threats and the duplicity of the very injustices they seek to overthrow.

While the images of encampments and police abuse could be troubling, all that the protesters really care for is to be “fed with good pasture; for their injured brothers and sisters to be bound up; for their fellow weak compatriots to be strengthened ” and to perhaps share the comforts that those in the 1% are lavishing on their own. 

The alternative ways that Yahweh wants to bring back to His people are illustrative of a power that is good, healthy and life giving. This is what the world needs now. However, without trustworthy leaders to exercise such power, the world will remain a dangerous and frightening place to live in. The “skinny and weak sheep”, those living in the margins of society, would be even more defenseless and vulnerable to the abusive games of corrupt power hoarders. There will be the 99% unless the 1% gives up their deeply guarded systems and structures.

On the other hand, good power is selfless and self-giving and just as Yahweh wished it to be brought back to His chosen, so has it been made available to us, the Body of Christ; the Church, the new Israel. And that could be an overwhelming responsibility should we decide to take such offer. The ones who are willing to take it need to remain prayerful and mindful of others.

Our very nature often makes it hard for us to fulfill such calling. For example, it is quite easy to confuse our own needs with those of others, just as it is very tempting to lobby for others especially when there are strings attached to such an advocacy. With access to such power, we need to constantly model ourselves with the Great One, the Son of God, whose leadership is modeled on servanthood.  

Brothers and Sisters in the Lord, today we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King. Jesus Christ modeled the proper use of power by modeling his kingship on servanthood. And while that may sound as the best oxymoron, kingship and leadership could really become service-oriented. It will be the wielding of power we talked about earlier; power that is for the benefit of others, for the good of those in the 99%.

Our gospel reading for this Sunday (Matthew 25:31-46) gives us a picture of the End of Times, when the Eternal Judge will separate the “sheep from the goats”, the ones who handled their “power” for the good of others from those who handled theirs for their own benefit. The ones who will be invited to enter God’s Kingdom are those who have used their power to “give food to the hungry, give drink to the thirsty; welcome the stranger, clothe the naked; take care of the sick and visit those in prison”.

What have we done with the “power” that has been given us at baptism; the power to assert and make known the Christ that is in us? Have we done anything worthy of emulation? Christ the King would love to hear from us. I invite you then to let Christ Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords, to occupy our hearts and our lives. 

Let Christ the King occupy our whole being!

We Got Talent

I’ve been noticing for quite some time now that many churchgoers end up getting “bothered” after listening to the gospel lesson popularly referred to as “The Parable of the Talents” (Matthew 25:14-30). This is specially so when it’s read on the Sunday designated as Commitment Sunday or Stewardship Sunday.

And why is this? You see, Commitment Sunday or Stewardship Sunday is when preachers often give hard and harsh sermons about stewardship. And when they do,  they never miss talking about “giving”, giving that hopefully comes from the heart and is reflective of the decision someone has made, after going through a time of discernment about the whole issue of stewardship.

It’s also the time when parishioners hear of their pastor’s appeal about their pledge of giving their gifts of the elusive Triple T’s, namely, Time, Talent and Treasure. In most cases, preachers during this particular Sunday usually choose an appropriate passage from the Bible as their basis for making such an appeal.

And I tell you, there’s probably no better text a preacher can use than this “Parable of the Talents”, which incidentally is the gospel lesson for today which also happens to be our Commitment Sunday.

This particular parable tells us about a man, a landowner of some sort, who was about to go on a journey but first, had to leave his property in the hands of his servants, including some huge financial resources. The story continues with how the said servants “managed” the resources, the “talents”, that were entrusted to them.

A “talent” by the way is a huge, huge sum of money. It should not be confused with the word “talent” as we know and use it nowadays, as in one’s “talent” to play musical instruments or write poetry or something along this line. The word “talent” as used in the gospel story is about big financial resources. Lots of “moolah”.

The story continues to say that the servant who got five talents doubled his. He must have been an excellent investor choosing the right “stocks” of his day. The same is true with the second one, who also doubled his two talents. The third one, however, did very poorly. He hid the talent given him and when the landowner came back and asked what he did with it, he simply dug it up from where he hid it and gave it back to the landowner.

It then describes how the landowner was so displeased with his servant’s inability to do what was expected of him. Towards the end of the story, you read the following: “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matthew 25:29-30)

So let me ask you what kind of reaction some people have upon hearing the part about being “thrown into the outer darkness.” They feel “bothered” because they begin to feel the weight of this thing called “guilt”. Parishioners feel “guilty” simply because this parable seems to be telling them that they better emulate the two servants who did very well with what was entrusted them and not be like the third one who did poorly. They’re afraid to be like the third one, especially since the Bible says: “As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (Matthew 25:30) So with this sense of guilt, they go back and re-write their pledge form and add more to their pledged amount. And that’s what I’m beginning to wonder just about now; whether there’ll be those who, upon hearing this gospel lesson, will re-write their pledge forms and give even more. Well, if there are some who will really do that, I assure you, your Stewardship Committee won’t stop you from doing it. 

Quite seriously, though, I know that you won’t be “bothered” with that ‘guilt’ reaction that others may have with this particular parable. In fact, there are other things that might be of interest to us.

On top of my list is that it tells us that God gives each person different gifts. The varying number of “talents” that the landowner entrusted to his servants demonstrated this. One, got five; the other received two and the third servant had only one. There was no issue as to why the one got five, the other got two and the last got only one.

Despite our tendencies to always compare ourselves with others, or how our gifts and talents fair with those we know, the actual number and quality matters not. We are only asked to make full use of what we have been uniquely given and to use them not just for our personal benefit for the good of the community as a whole.

The next thing we can glean from this parable is that our work as responsible stewards of the diverse gifts given to us is never completed. The first two servants showed their Master how much they had earned; and while they were commended for a job well done, nonetheless, they were not told they could sit back, put their feet up and relax. Instead and mainly because of their trustworthiness, both were given even greater responsibilities. This is reflected in what the Master told them. “I will put you in charge of many things.”

The third lesson we can infer from the story is that the inability of the individual to do something with what is given him gets a corresponding consequence. The servant with one talent did not lose what was given him and he was not penalized for that. However, we read of the consequence he received precisely because he did not do anything at all with it. This is in the area of what we call “sin of omission”. If he had tried and failed, he would have met some compassion or even forgiveness. It is important to remember that “We Got Talent”, however miserable it might look and we better do something about it.

It is a sober reminder for us all that it is not just those who do evil deeds who will lose out but also those who have no positively good works to show. In other passages in the Bible, we are told that the basis of one’s status at Judgment Day will be on whether “we fed the hungry and the poor and whether we visited the sick and those in prison”. Again, it’s what we do or not do with what we’ve been given that, in the end, matters.

And finally, something needs to be said about the part that says “to the one who has more will be given; from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away”. At the outset, it seems unfair, like robbing the poor to pay the rich. What I think is meant here is that those who share generously the gifts they have been given are likely to find themselves constantly enriched. And equally so, those who jealously preserve what they have been given, or hoard them or retire to their shell in fear of the outside world, are likely to shrivel up and die. As has been pointed out elsewhere, “those who save their lives will lose it.” Those who share generously what they have with others, will find themselves immeasurably enriched.

Brothers and sisters in the Lord, the Parable of the Talents teaches us to boldly prefer taking active risk in our lives than mere passive complacency.  It tells the way Jesus will act with us when we do not utilize properly the talents he has so generously given us and for our failure to make them to benefit others.

In this parable the man who was about to go on a journey and who summoned his slaves is an allusion to our Lord and Savior Jesus. As the man entrusted his slaves with some talents, Jesus also entrusted us with a variety of gifts that have been bestowed upon us through the power of the Holy Spirit. Through his gratuitous invitation, we are afforded the opportunity to become children of God. He has given us the opportunity to come closer to him through the Holy Spirit and the Eucharist.

As the landowner in the Parable of the Talents expected his servants to invest the talents he had left them with in order to be fruitful, so does the Lord Jesus expect us to be fruitful. He expects us to appreciate all of the gifts that have been given us, not so much as in a naïve “appreciation” per se but more so in utilizing them to their greatest potential. Our personal efforts and growth to mature spiritually in Christ are the end results that the Lord expects of those who decide to follow him. 

It is quite noticeable that, although the parable applies to an eschatological setting, the qualities praised here are of human nature as we know them in the here and now; diligence, perseverance and hard work. The parable seems to imply that there's a big room for everyone; for their initiative and creativity and for the personal involvement of each servant in answering how to use best the given talents. Indeed, it is those servants who assume their responsibility and put their minds and hearts into creative ways of multiplying their capital who get their laurels of praise.

The Gospel of today also focuses more sharply on the Christian attitude towards earthly life as we live in expectation of the Master’s return. This passage, however, goes further in pinpointing the ultimate purpose of our activities. The parable provides some advice on what can be done in the meantime between Christ’s resurrection and his final return, the Parousia. It bids us to make good use of the talents entrusted to us so that we may be ready to face him when he calls us to give account at the end of the ages.

For now, use your talents wisely. After all, “we got talent”. 

Aim High By Aiming Low

I recently had a conversation with Peter, one of the “Lost Boys of Sudan”.  I met him and a few others of his group at the “Everyone Everywhere Mission Conference” held at the YMCA of the Rockies in Estes Park, Colorado last month.

Aware of some of the real distresses and imminent dangers that his group, the so-called “Lost Boys of Sudan” had gone through, I asked Peter if he could share to me his story and how he ended up here in the United States and eventually at the Mission Conference.

Peter obliged and he began by saying that he thought he was probably 5 years old, or that someone must have told him that he was 5, and he was one of the thousands of young boys who were let go by their families in the hope that they’ll survive the killings and other horrendous atrocities of the conflicted parties in the southern part of Sudan.

He still remembers how death was their constant companion; taking hundreds if not thousands on their way to what they were told a “better life”. He did not give me graphic descriptions of their experience and yet was able to impress upon me the seriousness and severity of their travels, constantly being exposed to heat and fatigue; the absence of food and water and the attacks of wild animals.

His group had their first taste of their version of “Promised Land” in a Refugee Camp in the neighboring country of Ethiopia but it was short-lived.  His group, or what was left of them, eventually ended up in the Refugee Camps in Kakuma, Kenya where they saw the dawn of a relatively better future. Through the benevolence of refugee groups, both from the United Nations and other non-governmental organizations, those boys were restored to a life of dignity and found a new family of their own.

Peter was one of the lucky ones who were brought to the US and he was one of the recipients of the help extended through ERD or the Episcopal Relief and Development of The Episcopal Church. That tie would explain how he was able to attend the conference in Estes Park, Colorado.

Towards the end of our conversation, Peter looked me straight in the eye and told me that what kept them going was the lesson they learned from their elders: “to aim high; dream big and pursue that dream.” 

I was touched by that remark not so much that at five years of age he had it already etched in him but more of the fact that his group, his wider community, shared that same vision of aiming high and pursuing lofty dreams. At first, I thought it was more than likely just the need to survive that kept them going but in hindsight, I thought it was indeed their “aiming high and dreaming and pursuing big dreams” that brought them to where they are today.

The group that was with us in Colorado displayed an image reflective of their having reaped the fruits of their dream and I’m truly happy that they and others have seen the dawn of a better tomorrow, by their “aiming high; dreaming and pursuing their big dream”.

Often in life, it’s important to aim high. There is something about those who lived a life similar to the ones lived by the “Lost Boys” that breeds and feeds the importance of aiming high in life. And while the need to “aim high” is often attributed mainly to the ones who don’t have the comforts in life, as we in the West know them to be, such, however, is only half true. The other half tells us that it’s not only the poor who dream dreams, lofty or otherwise. The sad thing is that there are those who already have the luxuries in life and yet continue to aim even higher, dream even bigger dreams and pursue them relentlessly, often at the expense of other people.

If we take a closer look at how life in the more affluent countries like America gets lived out, we would surely see good examples of this. We live in an economic system that promotes competition.  For example, it is often the case that our mentors start us young by telling us that those who do excel in school tend to get the “best” jobs. So what do we do? Right. We “aim high; dream big and pursue our dream”.

Another example could be that out there among the labor force, again, we are told that those who work the hardest at their jobs are much more likely to get promotions and advance in their chosen career. They would be the ones who would climb their career ladder much faster compared to those who merely “do a job”. So what do we do? Right. We “aim high; dream big and pursue our dream”.

I’m sure you know other people who pursued lofty goals and accomplished great things in life. Yes, many of us here and in other countries too, seem to be almost hard-wired to aim high in life, hoping to get a bigger slice of the proverbial pie.

Today, we gather to celebrate a different breed of “high aimers” and “big dreamers”.  Yes, they’re the ones who “aim high and dream big dreams and pursue those big dreams” but in a different plane. They are called saints and today we celebrate this special day of remembrance in their honor.

It should not come as a surprise that the saints aimed high in matters of faith in a much different way than we do in many areas of our lives.  Their “aiming high” was not for their own gain or their own advancement in a world of material things. Their “aiming high” secured them little in this field but would have demanded more from them instead. Their “aiming high” was probably seen by some as unbecoming of citizens of a society that values wealth and prosperity, yet they forged on with their eyes focused in their singular vision.

The saints – the countless men and women who have gone before us to that “undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns”; and who now have a place at the heavenly banquet – aimed high by aiming low.

Yes, you heard me right. The saints aimed high precisely by aiming low; no matter how diametrically opposing that may look.  Their “aiming low” manifested itself in their lives in ways reflected in the Beatitudes we just heard proclaimed in today’s Gospel.

First, the saints were able to embrace their own “lowliness”, embracing the very spirit of the words Jesus spoke.  They knew the importance of being poor in spirit, meek, merciful, peacemakers and clean of heart.  They were able to refuse the beckoning of self-indulgence, self-centeredness and self-glorification. Instead, they knew how and where they were grounded in this world in relation to God – they stand firm in a place of complete dependence, hope and trust.    

Secondly, the saints understood the importance of “aiming low” by having a special place in their hearts for the “least” among us, for those who are marginalized in society: the poor, the forgotten, the neglected, the outcast and the outsider. These “least” among us had a special place in the hearts of the saints having realized that the “least” had the same special place in the heart of Jesus. The saints were in a very real sense able to resist the temptation to turn towards vicious allurements and licentious habits, and instead were able to direct the love and blessings they had received from God toward others, toward those who needed them the most.

Today we gather as a faith community and as disciples on a mission, to remember the giants of the faith; men and women who understood the value of aiming high, not in improving their material comforts in life but in matters of faith. We lift up those men and women who lived life intently focused on where they wanted to go, how they wanted to live and most importantly, whom they wanted to serve.

We also gather today not only to remember them but also to give thanks to God for them, to ask for their prayers, and to look at the deeds they have shown in their lives, some great while others simple, that we may learn and emulate them in the best way we can. 

 

It is not uncommon to have baptisms done when we celebrate All Saints’ Day and when we do, as we have done in the past, we are afforded the opportunity to express our intention to persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever we fall into sin, to repent and return to the Lord. It’s also that time when get the opportunity to affirm our willingness to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ and to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. It’s also our chance to signify our intention to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.

On those occasions when we, as a faith community, join each other in re-affirming our baptismal covenant, we also remind ourselves of our calling to become the saints that we can be. Striving to be a saint is the call of each of us.  And the process really hasn’t changed much in all those years.  It’s still about pouring out our lives in service of others, for the forgotten ones in our midst – by remembering them, befriending them, comforting them and providing for them. 

It may seem completely out of reach and unrealistic for most of us.  It may seem nearly impossible, given our own faults and weaknesses and it surely looks like a tall order. It is for this reason that we often retreat back to our cocoon of indifference: “I’m more of a sinner than a saint.”

Yet, that should not dampen our spirit to live the calling we could do, loving our neighbor and those who might have distanced themselves from us.  Just like in the case of my friend Peter, one of the “Lost Boys of Sudan”, the dangers that may come our way as we continue to walk our faith journey could look so gravely insurmountable. But just like him, so we should never be afraid to aim high, for that is our calling: “to aim high by aiming low”.

Sharing ‘Diakonia’ With Others

Aloha. I just came back from Hawaii where I represented the Episcopal Asiamerica Ministry Council at the ordination of The Rev. Peter Wu; one of the newly ordained deacons of that diocese and the latest addition to the list of Asian Clergy in The Episcopal Church.

My presence as the EAM Council’s President was indeed greatly appreciated by his family and others who are part of the EAM Network, as it was deemed an affirmation of the support we continue to give in raising Asian leadership in the various ministries of the TEC. I also had the chance to renew acquaintances and forge new ones.

The Ordination Service was at St. Andrew’s Cathedral in Honolulu and was part of the Diocesan Convention Eucharist. As expected, the attendance was exceptionally large; considering the size of the cathedral, the number of convention delegates and the invited guests of the four Ordinands. The cathedral was really packed with many of the invited guests wearing red and for a moment it seemed I was about to attend Pentecost Sunday. Or maybe it was just the Chinese red color for luck in a religious context.

Something unique about the service was the inclusion of hymns in Hawaiian; the chanting of the Psalm, also in Hawaiian language and the abundance of leis especially the ones given to the newly ordained deacons. They virtually lost their necks, if you know what I mean.

The words deacon and diaconal or diaconate find their root in the Greek word “diakonia” which is roughly translated as “service”. As those who had been ordained transitional or vocational deacons would attest, the readings and sermon during their ordination services usually allude to the “service character” of their order of ministry, a ministry of servanthood.

As in this case, the Bishop preached about what his deacons are to expect now that they were about to join the ranks of those whose ministry is about service and servanthood and not about honor and distinction.

As he went about cautioning them of what could lie ahead of them, I was reminded of my own ordination to the diaconate, back in ’73. What was so vivid then in mine as it was in theirs, was the warning that it is never about honor but conversely, it is about the mandate of providing service for others; something that at times prove hard to follow.

And this is where Matthew 23:1-12, our gospel lesson for this Sunday, seems to be a good reminder of it. Again, as in the previous gospel last Sunday, it’s not that explicit at first, but it’s there, buried somewhere. So, let me work on that . 

Matthew tells us that Jesus made some “unhealthy” remarks about the Scribes and the Pharisees. Jesus commented to his disciples that these supposedly “religious” leaders are in fact, a bit misleading. They’re not who and what they claim they are.

And here’s Jesus’ reasoning. First, he says, they love to sit on the seat of Moses, which is a seat of honor; a position of authority and one that demands respect. Logically then, whatever they say is worthy of emulation. Whatever they teach ought to be followed and obeyed.

And Jesus was willing to offer some concessions. He says you could follow what they say and teach you; they know what they’re talking about. After all, they’re the learned men of the Law. But, and here’s a big but, Jesus points out. But do not do what they do. Why? Because they do not practice what they preach; they do not “walk the talk”.

           

And to substantiate his claim, Jesus says: “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi.”

These hard-to-swallow accusations have their contemporary parallels which could very well be the ones those in the ordained ministry, including the diaconate, might be tempted to indulge in.

And if I were to use an illustration, imagine someone in the ordained ministry who just loves to rub others with their title and position. “Excuse me. I’m the Rector, get it?” In other words, I’m the boss; it’s my way or the highway.”

And to juxtapose what Jesus said then with our contemporary scenario, in this case, Jesus would also have advised us that we could follow what that Rector says but not do what she does. We are not to emulate actions similar to the ones that Jesus warned his disciples about.

Jesus does not fancy unbridled lust for power. The reverse seems to be what he prefers. Listen once more to that verse that alludes to what Jesus claims the Scribes and the Pharisees do. “They, meaning the Scribes and Pharisees, they tie up burdens hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them.”

I think we can make some inference here as to what that ministry of service could look like. It could be that  “lifting of finger” when applied to the task of “unburdening” someone of that with which he or she is heavily laden.

Now let me put some meat in what I’ve just said. In our various circles of relationships, we every so often find ourselves “burdened” with all sorts of problems; ranging from a relationship gone sour to a perennial thinning of our financial makeup or to an unbalanced church budget. For others it could be some health or mental related issues or a highly unstable employment or, quite seriously, they could be faith related issues. These are some of the more tangible and observable “loads” that are laden on the shoulders of some of us. And on more than a few occasions we need someone who might be willing to “lift up” those burdens.

This is where that diaconal ministry of service comes in. I am not saying, however, that this is all what deacons are supposed to do. No, I’m not saying that. What I’m saying is that the diaconal ministry of service should come into the center stage and be made available not just by deacons but practically by all of us.  

I believe that by virtue of our baptism, we share something in common with those who have been ordained deacons. It’s their ministry of service that we are also called to do as being the body of the baptized. Our ministry of service is the ministry of “lifting” up the burdens from the shoulders of people.

And it’s not an easy thing to do. In fact a serious question we ought to ask is: “How do we go about “lifting these burdens” from the shoulders of people?”

As we reflect on that question, a certain analogy might be of help. Many of you are familiar with instant replay in sports.  It figures most prominently in football.  It is a tool used to assist officials make the proper call by enabling them to see the play from different angles and viewpoints they were unable to see earlier. And it often is quite helpful, as those of you sports fans could attest, yes?

I think this example illustrates a way in which we can help others navigate some of the challenging waters in other people’s lives; things related to their common “burdens” that we also feel as we struggle to understand ourselves and matters of faith.

As you’ve heard me say a few times before, faith is really all about “seeing”.  It’s about looking at the world and one another in a particular way – through the lens of faith, through the person of Christ Jesus and his saving acts. 

So maybe one way of “lifting the burdens” from the shoulders of others is simply by helping them “see” their struggles and predicaments from the correct angle and in the proper light, just like what that instant replay gadget does.

In other words, if we know someone close to us feels heavily “burdened” by not having any idea where his life is heading or what God’s plan is for his family, perhaps we can do our ministry of service to others by helping him or them take baby steps in resolving the conflicts he is bound with.

Or if we know someone who feels “burdened” by not having answers to all of life’s questions, perhaps we can do our ministry of service by helping her see from another angle that asking the right questions is actually an evidence of faith and not a lack of.

There are still other examples of how we can participate with those who had been actually ordained deacons in their ministry of service. Suffice it to say that in this partnership with them our additional call is to support each other in the discharge of this ministry.

One quick caution for us all, though. Should we decide to do this ministry and fulfill its requirements, we could actually end up taking up other people’s burdens as our own and they could be as overwhelming to us as they had been with the others.

Let us remember, however, that many a times, all God is asking is that we shed a little light to someone and help him or her get a better view and different perspective of things. Our ministry of service does not have to mean “saving” them; that’s not our job. That’s God’s and we better let Him do his. Our job or better yet, our ministry is more about support, encouragement, care, comfort and shedding light to others.

Having said these, I now invite you to take another look at this thing called ministry of service. Enter into some discernment if you would be willing to share your “diakonia” and be partners with those who had actually been ordained as deacons. I invite you to “lift up” the burdens of others by your willingness to be witnesses of what you have professed when you became members of the baptized who follow Jesus , the Pioneer and Perfecter of our faith.

On finding the "Imago Dei" in us...

There’s always that longing of preserving one’s best experience and it’s so true with how I felt on my return here in Vallejo. How I wished that I could have stayed longer where I’ve been a couple of weeks ago. I was part of a group that gathered at the YMCA of the Rockies, in Estes Park, Colorado. 

Here’s how that played out.

Early that week, several groups under the Ethnic Missioners of The Episcopal Church met with their respective constituencies. The group I was a part of was the gathering of the Episcopal Asiamerica Ministry Council (EAM Council) — their Executive Committee and Conveners and delegates to their Strategic Planning Conference.

For several years now, I have been the Co- Convener of the EAM Filipino Convocation and at the Council’s annual meeting the following day I was unanimously elected as the new EAM Council President. Well, I thought that was kind of an honorable thing to have but in reality, it’s another “hat” I’ll be wearing, at least for the ensuing year; one that would entail additional travels. The downside, of course, is that there’ll be more work-related absences from my parish but the good side is that it won’t have any financial impact either.

From that EAM meeting early in the week, the EAM contingent, as did the other ethnic groups, transitioned to the main gathering, which was called “Everyone Everywhere Mission Conference” and as the theme suggests, the participants were men and women of all shades and colors; people from everywhere; from different dioceses of The Episcopal Church, including representatives from partner churches in Asia and South America. It was, indeed, a departure from the church’s usual monolithic gathering.

It might have been the case that that gathering was among the exceptions! It was an Episcopal gathering that was truly diverse; living out its slogan as a “welcoming” church. It was good to see, for example, some of the “Lost Boys of Sudan” breaking bread with everyone gathered in the Lord’s Table and to see folks from Venezuela and the Dominican Republic and Ghana and Haiti and the Philippines; well, you get the picture.

Something sad, however, began to unfold on the last day of the conference. It’s over and as I boarded the bus back to Denver, my leaving of that beautiful place with beautiful people made me long for a similar gathering in the future where “everyone from everywhere” could continue to find Jesus in their midst; seeing or better yet, wanting to see the “Imago Dei”, the Image of God, in the unlikely faces and places we find ourselves in.

And that wish, by the way, that wish of being able to see the Image of God in others need not remain to be just mine. Come to think of it, it should be our wish; all of us, and to make that a reality, we need to intentionally engage in the task of identifying and looking for the “Image of God” in us.

Our gospel for this 19^th Sunday after Pentecost (Matthew 22:34-46) has something to say in that regard, although, it doesn’t appear as clear and simple as one would like to think. But let me work on that connection between our task of seeing the ‘Image of God’ and what today’s Gospel has to say on that regard.

Our gospel lesson tells us that a Pharisee, one of those religious leaders during the time of Jesus who were pretty well versed with the Priestly and Levitical laws, came to test Jesus, presumably in his knowledge on the subject.

He goes on to say: "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"  Jesus then replied: "`You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: `You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." 

What or where, you might ask, does it say about “Imago Dei”? Well, as I earlier said, it does not “clearly” talk about the image of God. But here’s what I’ve found as I read and re-read the passage. Jesus tells the Pharisee that the greatest and first of all the commandments is to love God with all your heart, soul and mind. And then, the second great commandment is “to love your neighbor as yourself”. Jesus is telling us that we should love our neighbor or the ones other than us, in a manner similar to how we regard ourselves.

And that brings us to the question of how do we regard ourselves. If you start telling me your answers, we won’t be on the same page, I’m sure. If you look more closely, there are two main camps and some in between.

On the one hand, there are those who have a rather low if not totally negative regard of themselves. They are the ones whose refrain in their song in life might go like “I’m not good enough” and this gets repeated again and again in their journeys in life.

They’re the ones who, when asked if they would be willing to volunteer at their child’s school community project would readily say: “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m good enough for that one. Go ask someone else.” Or when asked if they would consider being a Vestry member in their parish would say: “Me? Oh no. I don’t think I’m good enough.” And they end up not responding to the invitation mainly because they don’t have enough confidence in themselves.

It’s also the case that this low esteem could get contagious. For all you know, there’s a whole bunch of those “I’m not good enough” folks gathered right by your side; in the family circle, in the community circle and in your faith community.

Talking about faith community, we should know by now that Christianity has always wrestled with the issue that many in various faith communities see themselves as God’s creatures – and not just as God’s creatures, but as imperfect, flawed beings, who, at times, are quite capable of serious acts of disobedience and self-centeredness. It appears that quite a number of our Christian brothers and sisters choose to focus heavily on their unworthiness and sinfulness.  They argue that God, after all, is supremely good and we are nearly the opposite of that.  It’s no wonder many really emote with the words “wretch like me” when singing the hymn “Amazing Grace”.

And so, when an appeal comes to them to help out; whether in some local projects or some relief appeal for major natural calamities, their response is “My donation is not good enough; my $25 is not good enough. That’ll not go far.” And they end up not giving anything. Why? Because their would-be small contributions, they think, won’t make any difference; all because they think of themselves as “not good enough”!

Love your neighbor as yourself, Jesus said. But you won’t because you’re not good enough to yourself and you can’t give what you don’t have. Loving your neighbor as yourself, when “yourself” is filled with negativity and low esteem will not take off. That mandate to love one’s neighbor may be doable but not if you do not have that positive regard on you.

Then there’s the other camp; those who have the highest regard of themselves. They are the ones who are “full of it”; the ones who only care about what they can get; what they can receive and what they can have. They’re the ones who will give; if certain conditions are met; if they get publicly acknowledged; if their names will appear on the Honor Roll; if their gifts will mean their family’s great legacy for ages to come.

Whereas the former camp would re-echo their being “I’m not good enough for you”, the ones in this other group are thrilled to float around their mantra “You’re not good enough for me.”

Love your neighbor as yourself, Jesus said. You can’t possibly follow this second great commandment if “you’re full of it”. Simply put, loving our neighbors may be doable but only if your attitude to others is not based on pride and greed or on self-idolatry. To love your neighbor when you have the highest regard for your self and one which is self-serving will only mean not loving the other but loving your very own self.

There is, however, good news. There’s a third camp where you might want to align yourself. There is an alternate and quite scriptural understanding of who we are in relation to our God. At the heart of the Christian understanding of who we are is the idea about the “Imago Dei”, the “Image of God” which is confirmed upon us and embodied within us since Creation.  God may have made us “out of nothing”, ex nihilo, but the Great Creator didn’t create us to “reflect nothing”.  Rather, God created us in such a way that we, in ways we can’t readily fathom, are able to reflect God himself. In the image of God, Man was created to reflect that goodness of heart that made God say, you are my people for whom I will send my only begotten Son.

This means that each of us has a certain dignity, a certain value and worth that can never be diminished or taken away; no matter what we do or don’t do.  This dignity we each have is the foundation for much of what the Church teaches, particularly when it comes to issues relating to the value of human life. 

And this “Imago Dei” is more than just a “mark” upon us.  It also speaks of possibilities, which means that we have a tremendous capacity for good, a God-given ability to be channels of God’s grace in all that we say and do. In other words, aware of the “Imago Dei” deep within us, we should refrain from falling into the temptation of claiming, “I am not good enough for you” nor are we to boast, “You are not good enough for me.” Instead, we are to recognize that the other, the one we regard as our neighbor, is the same child of God as we are and that we all have that innate goodness in us and a tremendous capacity for good – not because of anything we have done, but because God loves us and wants to share his very life and goodness with us.

And therefore, when we are asked to love our neighbors as ourselves, we are in a very real sense being asked to see that same divine spark in them, to see God’s image, and to see their inherent dignity and worth.  Granting that we allow God’s grace to flow in us and on to others, good works are almost a certain consequence.  However, if we fail to recognize our own dignity and the goodness that lies at the heart of who we are, we may not be able to share that same goodness with others and consequently, we will not be able to follow the second great commandment of loving our neighbors as ourselves.

I know that certain predicaments in life often lead us to get oblivious of the better side of things; even of life. In the same token, too much of self-assurance often make us go off tangent in matters of faith. We need not remain in those camps, previously cited. Instead, we need to relocate to that third alternative.  And when we do, each time we hear someone says, “ I am not good enough.” we could retort and say, “Yes, you are. We all are good enough!“  

All of us have the “Imago Dei” in us and we need to recognize that within us. Once that begins to happen, we will then be on our way not only on loving God with all our heart, mind and soul but also on loving our neighbors as ourselves.

So go and find that in you, if you haven't yet.

"God's Heavy Sigh"

How often do you hear people “sigh”? Rarely? That’s good news. How about you? How often do you sigh? Did I hear someone just say “a lot”? I’m not really interested in finding out the particulars behind people’s sighing; it’s just that when they do, you know they’re going through some frustrations, maybe lots of frustrations; hence, they sigh a lot.

Indeed, when someone goes through that motion of exhaling making it sound louder than the usual, you bet, there’s that uncontainable frustration boiling inside; one that may have lingered the longest.

The following could be typical examples. Your “sighing” could be the expression of your frustration about your beloved child whom you showered with the best of what you can offer but somehow ended up taking an entirely different path than you expected him to take. Hence, when asked of his whereabouts, you show your frustration with your great sigh.

Or it could be about your years of loyalty in your company to which you have entrusted your future with your retirement being looked after, only to have that company throw you away in the twilight of your employable years, all in the name of some euphemism called “down-sizing”.

Or it could be about lost love that has been severed and has led to separate ways. Or perhaps it is a tradition in your faith community that you have so well trusted but now appears to be cut off – all in the name of inclusivity and in keeping with modern understanding of things!  Or quite simply, when you get frustrated with your inconsiderate husband, you bellow that loud “Sigh”!

Everybody gets to make that exhaling sound louder than the usual, perhaps, including God. No? To think of God making that “divine sigh” might sound blasphemous but if you take a closer look at this Sunday’s lessons, you’d probably agree with such note about sighing.

Let’s first take a look at our Old Testament Lesson. Here’s how the prophet Isaiah puts its and imagine if you will, God saying the following.

“Let me sing for my beloved my love-song concerning his vineyard: My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it; he expected it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes”. (Isaiah 5:1-2)

And then he continues:

“And now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard. What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it? When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes?” (Isaiah 5:3-4)

It’s in here where I could hear that loud “divine sigh”, of God’s seeming frustration of what has become of His “Chosen People”. In spite of Israel’s distinct privilege to have been chosen as the people through whom God’s revelation would be made manifest, Israel forsook Yahweh, time and again, and turned to other gods. In spite of the divine tender care given by God to His beloved Israel hoping for her to bear “good grapes”, Israel, by her repeated unfaithfulness, bore “bitter grapes”. Israel was the grapevine that was planted to yield award-winning vintages and yet produced instead only sour grapes, yielding a spoiled harvest. Israel’s unfaithful response, after all the tender love and care given by God, caused God, I think, to have his loud “sigh”.

Another illustration of this “divine sigh” is found in today’s Gospel lesson from Matthew. The first scene is almost an echo of the one pictured in Isaiah and in fact is. But there’s more to it than the unfruitful yielding of the vine. In Matthew’s account, the unfruitful response lies on the attitude of the tenants.

Here how the story is played out.

“There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, `They will respect my son.' But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, `This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.'  So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him.” (Matthew 21:33-39)

The tenants had a deal. The vineyard was just leased to them. The owner was to collect his fair share of the produce. What happened to all those “expected” results?  Quite the reverse actually. They beat one, killed another and stoned another. Rather than fulfill their end of the deal, they rebelled against him, even killing the master’s son. In this latter scene, perhaps it was not just a loud “sigh” but “tears” rolling down God’s cheeks.  

Isaiah’s story of the Frustrated Landowner and Matthew’s Parable of the Wicked Tenants are so evocative of the circumstances attending the death of our Lord Jesus Christ. The unfruitful response of the world to whom God sent His only begotten Son led to God’s salvific sacrifice of that very same Son.

To have yielded bad grapes and to have lost his son in the hands of the tenants had their corresponding results.

In the case of Isaiah’s story, here is what he says: “I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured; I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed, and it shall be overgrown with briers and thorns; I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it.”

In the case of the Parable of the Wicked Tenants, as suggested by the listeners, the landowner should have “put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”  But that was not what Jesus told them would happen. He did not agree that the wicked tenants be readily put to miserable death. Instead, he would give the vineyard to others who would be able to take good care of it. In other words, God gives us a second chance. He indeed gives out a loud “sigh” at the failures that we incur especially when we think that “this land is my land”; when we think that we were never mere stewards to begin with. And while there might be some major rolling down of tears from a “frustrated” God, yet He never gives up.

And there is the twist. God never, ever gives up; never stops loving, never ceases to find a way to bring forth the best “wine” the world ever tasted, even if it costs God everything. In the end, God is intent on sharing that vintage with the whole Creation, raising the glass in celebration of our love for Him and to one another, because we finally offered it on our own free will and accord and quite passionately, as well; the way His love was first offered to us. 

Then and only then will we be able to let God stop from his “divine sigh” and cease from shedding tears of frustration.

Striving For Real Fairness

Try to imagine for a moment that you have been in your workplace for more than ten years and a new employee gets hired and works the same job you do but receive ten percent more than what you get. Or try to imagine that in spite of your ten years in the job, you got laid off while that new employee got to stay and kept his. Well, maybe you don’t have to imagine them at all because that’s the reality in the workplace nowadays. My guess is that it would not or does not sit too well with you as you would most likely be on his defense for the obvious reason that it’s unfair!

Our sense of equality and our preferment for equitable distribution usually lead us to champion the cause of flying the banner of fairness. We totally support such a cause and, consequently, we would not entertain any second thought when it comes to matters of fairness or more importantly, on matters of justice.

We demand that we get what we deserve when it comes to our job; although there’s that great possibility that we would not be so overly concerned if we end up getting a little bit more than what we actually deserve. And that, by itself, might appear to have a veneer of unfairness. Why? It’s because, as is often the case, only when we appear “disadvantaged” that we get so enthused and tempted to bring into play the rules of fairness.  We rarely hear of someone who, after getting paid for the hours she did not work for, still complains “What? I’m getting a full pay? But I was off for two days. It’s not fair.” It’s funny how that works.

The Gospel story (Matthew 20:1-16) for this Sunday alludes to this seeming inconsistency in the arena of fairness.  The landowner in the parable pays all of his workers the same amount, even though they worked different numbers of hours.  Listening to this story, many of us would readily think to ourselves, “Well, that doesn’t seem fair.” In the course of saying those words, we somehow pass our judgment as we observe the scale of fairness to be tipping not on our favor. Why? It’s because we side with those who have put in the most and naturally, we feel aggrieved. We could easily identify ourselves with them.

But what if we ally ourselves with the ones on the receiving end of the landowner’s generosity? Would we still be saying “Well, that doesn’t seem fair.”? We usually do not complain when it comes to bonuses, do we? In similar situations, we keep mum and let it fly. And so, how ironic it is that in one situation we become so resentful, and in the other we are more than pleased and grateful for the added blessings.

Having made that observation, I think there is the danger of “reading” this story along the terms we observe in our human experience which could lead us to conceive of God as being just with some people and overly generous with others, or that He lets some of us get exactly what we deserve while letting others get more, or that God is extra-kind to some people but less so with others.

If we view the story only in those terms, we might come to the logical conclusion that God, after all, doesn’t treat us all the same. And the moment we fall into this trap, we could not be more wrong. Part of the problem, I believe, is that we talk about these attributes and actions of God while employing a very limited tool: human language. When we try to say something about God; when we attempt to understand and explain that which is “Unexplainable”, we use words that we employ when describing human attributes, not realizing that such words are “limited” when used for a better understanding of God.

From our human perspective it can look as if God picks and chooses who gets the most and who gets the least, who gets immeasurable blessings and who must go without, who has a special place in his heart and who is just ordinary. What’s really happening is that God is simply being God doing exactly what He is supposed to be doing.

So how might we understand this story? Perhaps we need to re-read the story. You see, our tendency is to focus on the fact that the laborers did not put in the same amount of work.  And that’s a simple reflection of our ways of looking at things. But what we probably should focus on more is the fact that each of the workers received a full day’s pay which the landowner promised to everyone he called to work on his vineyard; for the all-day laborers and for the newcomers, for the greatest and for the least, for the first and yes, even for the last.

Again, at times, we think God doesn’t treat us all the same. Well, from our human perspective, maybe not.  But viewed from the lens of faith, God wants the best for each one of us. God loves and blesses us all, without any regard to what society might have thought of us. God wants each of us to experience the same fullness of life –the same “full day’s wage” – a full, rich, and meaningful life.

It’s interesting to note what Jesus said to those workers he approached later in the day. He asked them: “Why do you stand here idle all day?” Perhaps, the parable about God’s fairness is really meant for them and for us who might have also put off embracing the new life Jesus won for us through his death and resurrection. Finding affinity with those who “stood idle in the marketplace” should convince us that we’re the ones for whom God continually offers a full day’s wage. And while it might look pitiable, it actually points to a remarkable opportunity for hope, for it doesn’t matter how long we have been idle, how long we have refused the precious gift of new life. 

And while there might be more than a few who had been standing on the sidelines for their entire lives, the Good News is that, as far as God is concerned, that doesn’t matter. God doesn’t care what transpired before or who we were yesterday and the day before. He only cares who we want to be today and whether or not we will accept his invitation to journey out into the vineyard and receive our full day’s wage.

That’s the God I have known and the God I serve.  And He may not seem fair when viewed from our inadequate lens of human perception, although in truth, as this parable teaches us, God is much more than fair.  God loves us, He is generous, and He is merciful. With this parable, hopefully, we can be as loving and as generous and as merciful, not just to those whom we have known much longer but to all, with no distinction of any kind.

So let it be our noble intention to continually strive for real fairness.