single persons, people
of all races and families
of every kind.
Sunday
Service:
Holy Eucharist
at 9:30 am
Child care is available
Church of Our
Saviour
191 Flanagan Way (Rt 153) Secaucus, NJ 07094
Tel: 201-863-1449
Fax: 201-863-1474
Mark A. Lewis,
Vicar
MLewis@secaucus.org
Dorothy Fowlkes
Pastoral Associate
This page revised 15
Oct 00
http://www.secaucus.org/
oursaviour
The Church of
Our Saviour
in the Town of Secaucus, New Jersey
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A Better
Look
Reflections on the
lessons for the 18th Sunday after Pentecost
By The Rev. Mark A. Lewis, Vicar
Amos 5:6-7,10-15 / Psalm90:1-8,12
Hebrews 3:1-6 / Mark
10:17-27
Sometimes when I get together with my clergy colleagues someone -- never me, I assure you -- complains about some congregation (or about some search process) and the unreasonable expectations that can fly around in churches. "They think they're gonna get Jesus Christ," is a cliché that comes out pretty often.
But I just keep quiet. I never feel that way here. From the get-go nobody in this church has ever confused me with Jesus -- or ever hoped to make me over into another version of him. That's a great gift to me. It makes it so much better to be a part of this church.
And, just to update you all on one of the many differences between Jesus and me: I assure you that I would never in a million years have let an interested, religiously correct, obviously rich newcomer go away grieving over some little detail of church membership. I have a long way to go before I am seeing things the way Jesus does, doing things the way Jesus would.
I've been reminded of just that many times this week, reading over these lessons daily in the background of a visit from my family. They don't come very often. And when they do I'm excited starting the day the trip is booked and sad for days after they're gone. And it's lots of fun while they're here. BUT, as everyone knows, the fun of a visit from people you love is very often mixed with the realities of having the normal pace and habits of life interrupted and stirred up.
But -- again as Jesus teaches -- stirring up things is a very, very good thing. Because nothing is ever already as good as it possibly can be -- and stirring things up lets life resettle in new ways, ways that force us to see our hearts and our lives and (really) everything differently.
One of the things I've seen in new light this week is my stuff. My possessions. My equipment. When you bring in a number of houseguests, and put everyone in strange beds in strange rooms, and cook together in a strange kitchen, well -- you may know for yourself -- all the stuff that usually seems invisible can suddenly start to seem like a warehouse full of unfamiliar and hard to move rummage sale inventory. When company comes, living in my own home starts to seem kind of like running a yard sale. "Do you have a firmer pillow?" "I can't find your electric mixer?" "What is this thing for?" [Disclaimer: My folks have actually asked none of these questions.]
My new focus on the stuff, though, has been a great blessing. It's made me want to actually have a real yard sale and clear out my life a little. Because the stuff that seems invisible all year long, really isn't. It's really taking up just as much room in my mind and just as much of my time every hour of my life as it is when people I love happen to draw my attention to it.
I don't like to think about what it means that I have so much while many millions of God's own people have so little. And I don't know what comes next after realizing that no amount and no quality of "stuff" can fill holes in human hearts. Lots of us are right there with that rich man. Everyone here has kept -- in a functional if not always in a literal sense -- "all the commandments from our youth". And many of us have learned, or are just now learning, or will someday learn -- that even keeping commandments doesn't go all that far toward making a rich and god-filled life. There's got to be more than getting stuff and doing stuff. But what?
The church has long used a word for the thing beyond having and doing that connects us with God: the thing that -- to use the Baptist word for it -- saves us. GRACE.
Jesus and Paul started it. They tried to teach us that it is only grace -- a gift from God, never earned nor merited -- that heals and nourishes and redeems the human spirit. Grace is what changes a person's focus and makes us see things, and want to do things, in ways people ought to if they want to grow more than they want to shrink.
Grace is about receiving more than doing. Not even keeping the "new commandments" springing from Jesus -- feeding the hungry, distributing wealth, upending the social order -- can take the place of grace. But, much of the time, I really don't know what I think grace might be other than a Sunday School word that I keep looking for on other days of the week. What does grace look like in the concrete?
A teacher of mine gave me one pretty good tool for thinking about grace. About how we really get a look at God and a feel for life. "Grace is extravagant, unconditional love walking among us: The Risen Christ." Jesus put flesh and bones around the heart of God. And, using that human body asked us, still asks us, to let go of stuff and follow him to a place where we can meet God.
I have never taken a vow of poverty. And I don't know anyone who has. But among the stuff in my house is a piece of stained glass -- a dinner plate sized shield. It was the last possession of a man, years ago, who took monastic vows and came to the moment of truth when he finally had to let go of the only thing he still could call his own. He gave it up. He has nothing. And now I have the stained glass.
I thought of that when I read today's gospel. Especially the line where Jesus "looked at the rich man and loved him," -- in that moment between telling the guy what to do to find eternal life -- to find big life -- and the rich man's response. I imagine that anyone who can see Jesus -- a guy who put a face on God -- looking at her, at him, with love really doesn't really need all that much other stuff. Anyone who can see that look might not think that more commandment-following would make things all that much better. Just seeing God's love coming at you -- grace -- would take the place of a lot of other things.
I am hoping that someday I can catch a glimpse of that look a little better than I have already. The look Jesus gave the rich man. Then, if I can, I'll let that look of love just penetrate me for awhile. It will take years, probably. And then I'll read this passage again -- if I'm able. I wonder what will happen. Maybe I will be a little better able to let thing's go and fix my eyes on God's. God's eyes are fixed on me, after all. Then it might come easier and more naturally for me to live more simply, so that others may simply live. The day might dawn when it is easier for me to see how I am loved and how to love in return without making so many foolish mistakes.
That's not anything heroic. That's not following any commandment. It's just a better look at the Risen Christ which, of course, is everyone around me, even my family. If I get that better look, I think my focus will shift. I think I might get lazy about lots of little stuff and energetic about seeing more and more of God's face loving me back from the faces I see in front of me all the time.
-- Mark Lewis
Your comments or questions are welcome MLewis@secaucus.org.
Links to additional "Reflections on Lessons" may be found at the bottom of the Sunday web page.
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