A Lens of Gratitude

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7  These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles, and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people, whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon. Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

Luke 17:11-19        On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

+++

Have you ever been in a place that was not of your own choosing?

I know a young woman from back in Pennsylvania – I keep in touch with her on facebook.  Her husband is in the military, and they have lived in some places that she really did not want to be.  She longed to go back home – or almost anywhere else, on some days.  But while she is living there, raising her family in this community, do you think that God is calling her to seek the welfare of that place?

I visited a church once in the city of Wilmington Delaware.  This was a grand old Presbyterian Church.  50 or 60 years ago, the members of this church lived in the neighborhood.  But as the community around the church changed, it got to the point where all of the members lived outside the city and drove miles every week into the city to worship.  The congregation found themselves in a place they did not choose to be – not because they moved, but because the area around them transformed into something different.  They considered selling the building and relocating to suburbs.  But in the end they decided to commit themselves to urban ministry – to seek the welfare of the place God had put them.

To seek the welfare of the place where God has put you –

That’s what Jeremiah is encouraging the people of Israel to do while they are in their Babylonian exile.  There were hopes, of course, that somehow they would be rescued from this predicament, that they would be freed and allowed to return home and everything would be just as it was before.  But Jeremiah knew this would not be.  He knew that this situation would last for a while.  And so he wrote to the refugees in Babylon and told them so.  “Build homes for yourselves.  Plant and tend gardens.  Raise your families, and seek the welfare of the city where you have been sent.”

Jeremiah needed them to accept their situation and go on with the living of the lives God had given them.

I read a story about a Syrian refugee community in France.  There are thousands of people there, mostly living in tents.  Here they sleep and cook and eat and play.  They work.  They set up small shops and schools.  Volunteers help them learn English.  They don’t know how long they will be there, but they must continue to live while they are there.  I wonder if God calls them to seek the welfare of the city where they are living.

How is God calling us to seek the welfare of the city we find ourselves in? 

The scriptures tell stories of people who are often in some place they do not choose to be.  From the beginning, when God led Abraham on a journey through wilderness, toward a land that God would give him, God’s people have been journeying through alien lands - even up to this day.  No matter where we find ourselves, our primary identity is as children of God, our primary citizenship is in the kingdom of God.  But at the same time, doesn’t God call us to seek the welfare of the place where we are living? 

Isn’t that what Jesus did all the time – seek the welfare of the place, wherever he was?

Which brings us to the the story from Luke about the 10 lepers.  As he is entering a village, Jesus hears the ten lepers calling out to him.  They are keeping their distance, and they are outside the village, because their condition made them exiles.  The law of the land required that they live in isolation from any community, to avoid contagion. 

So I imagine that what they did was to form their own communities with other lepers, because humans are made to be in community, not isolation.  Just as homeless people tend to form communities, finding places where they can live together; just as refuges form functional communities in their exile, lepers would have created their own communities.

And this community of lepers is made up of people who would not have been friends otherwise.  Their exile is what brought them together, because there are nine Jews and one Samaritan.

Jews and Samaritans were not allies, although they probably should have been.  They were neighbors who worshiped the same God, yet they separated themselves.  That is why the parable of the Good Samaritan is such a powerful story – in it, the only one who shows compassion is the Samaritan.  It’s a story Jesus made up to point out to his listeners that people are people, and it’s just silly to treat some like enemies. 

This episode here, he didn’t have to make up, this ragtag group of lepers actually came to him.  Truth really is stranger than fiction.  They came to Jesus and begged him for mercy, for healing.  Jesus gave them what they asked for.  He told them to go show themselves to the priest, because the priest would have to verify that they were leprosy-free, before they could be readmitted to the community.  They followed his instruction and as they went they were made clean.

Then one – only one – stopped.  He turned back.  He raised his voice in praise and he thanked Jesus for what he had done for him.  And he was the Samaritan. 

Why do you think the others did not turn back?  There’s no right or wrong answer to that question.  I have no idea why they failed to give thanks. 

Regardless of the reason, Jesus is concerned about their failure to give thanks.  Now, that might be because he was an egomaniac and he needed to have their praises heaped upon him.  Or, there might have been some other reason.  Here’s what I think.

Everything in life is better when we acknowledge the gifts we have received. 

We can only really enjoy the blessing when we know that it is a blessing. 

Joy does not come from getting what we are entitled to; joy comes from receiving extravagant gifts – like having your affliction removed.

Like the glorious color show that appears in the western sky so many evenings – no charge.  Like a marriage that creates a new family out of two existing families; like the birth of a child.  Like some perfect stranger who comes and sits down next to you to teach you a new thing – how to speak English, or how to read.

What extravagant gift have you received this week?  There are, no doubt, many – but name just one.

Thankfulness is important.  Yes, this is, in part, because we need to be thanked for the good things we do.  But even more, it is important because expressing thankfulness connects us to one another.  Thanking another person is acknowledging their humanity; it is saying that we value them as human beings. 

Seeing the world around us through a lens of gratitude has great power to change things for the better.  It moves us to give thanks, and not only that –

Seeing the world through a lens of gratitude moves us to be generous. 

Seeing the world through a lens of gratitude sets a beautiful cycle in motion.  It connects us. It moves us to want good things for others as well, it encourages us to consider the welfare of those around us.  So, let me ask you again –

How is God calling us to seek the welfare of the city we find ourselves in?  Is there one thing you can identify that God might be calling us to do for the welfare of our community?

May your eyes be open to all the wonderful gifts God is giving you.

May you be generous with your gratitude.

May we all seek the welfare of the place God has brought us to.

Measuring Faith

Luke 17:5-10        The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”  He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.  “Suppose one of you has a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’?  Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’?  Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do?  So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’”

+++

There’s a story about a woman who goes into a coffee shop for a little afternoon break.  She goes to the counter and gets her coffee and a package of cookies, then looks for a place to sit.  The shop is crowded, so she is forced to take a chair at a small table already occupied by a man reading a newspaper.  She’s not looking for company, but she sits down with her coffee and package of cookies, gives him a quick smile and nod, then buries herself in her book. 

She notices out of the corner of her eye that the man reaches out and takes a cookie from the package on the table.  Rude, she thinks, but tries to ignore it.  She reaches out and takes a cookie for herself.  Pretty soon she sees his hand sliding across the table and taking another cookie out of the package.  This time she looks up at him, really giving him a look.  He just smiles at her.  She takes another cookie out of the package and goes back to her book, but by now she is quite distracted by this man’s behavior.

This goes on, he takes a cookie, she takes a cookie.  She is beside herself with rage, but too polite to say anything to him.  Finally, with two cookies left, he takes one and pushes the package toward her, inviting her to take the last one.  She gives him a hard glare and takes the last cookie.

When she leaves the shop, she opens her purse – there lies the package of cookies she bought, unopened.

Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, and sometimes we bring them upon ourselves, don’t we?  I often find myself praying that God will make me a better person; or, increase my faith. 

I don’t know what to think about this “faith the size of a mustard seed” comment.  A mustard seed is very tiny.  And so the contrast between something so very small having the power to uproot and replant trees, in the sea, no less – this is huge.  And if faith that small can do things that are virtually impossible, then what does my faith look like?  Too small to even be visible. 

And then I begin to wonder what faith the size of a pumpkin seed could do.  That’s a lot larger than a mustard seed, so it would seem that it could do even more astounding things.  But I have no idea what those things could be, because he has already taken me beyond the realm of comprehension with the mustard seed analogy. 

Clearly, I am in way above my head.  How does one measure faith?

Before I went into ministry I had a career in educational testing, and I know how to measure all kinds of things, but I still wonder how to measure faith.  Can we measure it by outputs, as Jesus’ words here suggest?  So maybe I can’t move mountains or mulberry trees, but can my faith move something smaller, like dandelions, perhaps? 

It’s easier to measure material things, but it might be more realistic to consider the impact of our faith on nonmaterial things, like whether my faith can move someone to be more loving.  But still, I don’t know.

Perhaps our faith, all together, can move something.  Maybe our combined faith can move our community toward greater peace or wellness.  Do you think our faith could do that?  Still, it’s a tricky thing to measure.

Honestly, I don’t know if faith is something that can be measured.  I am not sure that was really the point Jesus wanted to make.  Because when we start measuring our faith it becomes all about us.  And when we start measuring our faith, we begin comparing ourselves to others to see if we are greater or lesser than they are.

He follows that strange comment about faith with a strange parable about masters and servants.  And again, he uses the old “which one of you” technique.  Which one of you would say to your servant coming in from working in the field, “Come and sit at the table with me”?  which one of you would thank the servant for merely doing what he was told to do?

It seems cold, doesn’t it?  There was some discomfort at the roundtable this week about this parable.  It strikes us as entirely undemocratic – which, of course, it is.  Jesus did not live in a democracy.  But there is another aspect of the story that we didn’t notice right away: the disciples, or apostles as they are called here, were not wealthy men.  They did not have servants to order about – especially now, that they have walked away from everything to follow him.  How strange to ask them to think this way.  They might more readily identify with the servant than the master.

And at the next moment he has switched perspectives, and he does ask them to see themselves as the servant.  “So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’”  And, of course, they know that this is the way things work.  Servants do their duty and their reward is a job well done.

I imagine this parable is a lot harder for us to deal with than it was for the disciples at his side, because it reflected the world in which they lived.  And while we might still protest that such an oppressive and hierarchical social system is not a good system, that democracy is far superior, it may help us to take a step back – remembering that it is a parable – and reflect on what he is trying to teach.  We might reflect on what it says about our relationship with God.  Because, sure, equality among all people is good – even godly.  But when we begin to assume we are in any way on an equal footing with God, we are in trouble.

Well, hold that thought for a moment.  Let’s get back to the question of faith.  How do you measure faith?

Perhaps, someone said at the roundtable, you don’t measure faith after all.  Perhaps faith is something you either have or don’t have – the size of it is immaterial, hence, faith the size of a mustard seed is plenty.  And the way you have faith is by being open to receiving it.  Faith begins with God’s actions toward us, and then our openness to receiving it.

We can only receive what is offered.  Any attempts to demand something different will only get in the way.  Our master offers us good gifts – indeed, all that we have is a gift from the master!  Opening our hearts and our hands to God, there is no need that cannot be answered. 

When we assume God owes us something, this will keep us impoverished.  We will be as pitiful as the woman who mistakenly assumed those were her cookies sitting on the table.  The blessings are more than abundant when we are simply open to receiving what is so graciously offered.  Getting our relationship with God ordered rightly is the key to the riches of faith.