Does Complaining Work or Not?

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
September 21, 2014

20 Proper A

The grumbling Israelites and the annoyed vineyard workers leave us with a profound theological question this morning: "Does complaining work, or not?"  The Israelites sing their own version of "I'm starving, you are mean, why don't you just leave me alone" that perhaps many of us have heard or sung ourselves.  God's chosen people have left slavery in Egypt, where, apparently, they had plenty of good food to eat.  The people are quite sure that God will let them starve, despite the fact that God has already both led them through the Red Sea on dry land and provided water for them when they were sure they would die of thirst.  And, the story tells us, God heard the complaint of the people and provided them with quail and manna to eat.  So, complaining works.

On the other hand, however, the laborers who have worked all day in the hot sun complain when the laborers who worked just one single, solitary hour, after the sun had broken, by the way, got a full day's pay.  Their song also has three verses: "It's not fair," " You love them more than me," and "Can I work just one hour and get a full day's pay, too?"  Maybe some of us have heard or sung this song, too.  But in the case of the vineyard workers, their complaints are not heeded and the landowner, who we presume to be God, says "Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?  Or are you envious because I am generous?"  The landowner's response is the response given to many complaints: "Get over it."  Clearly, complaining does not work.

So, does complaining to God work, or not?  We all have times when we complain, or, in Biblical parlance, make lament to God.  Disaster strikes, loved ones are ill, jobs are frustrating or lost, or we just seem to be experiencing a bout of bad karma and life is not fair.  If we are people of prayer, we take our complaints to God.  God, I believe, does take all our complaints, our laments, into God's heart.  If God did not bear our complaints, a large percentage of the Psalms would be unnecessary.  But based on the story from Exodus this morning, and Jesus' parable about the landowner, however, our complaints seem to have about a 50/50 chance of getting us what we want or need.

However, I believe the question of whether or not complaining works is the wrong question to ask these stories to answer.  While people complain in both stories, complaining is only one thing that holds the two stories together.  The real point of these stories has nothing to do with the efficacy of complaining, or the unfairness of life.  The real point of these stories is God's abundant generosity.  When the Israelites are in the wilderness with nothing to eat, God provides abundantly for them, giving them quail in the evening and bread in the morning.  God does that, not because the Israelites complained, but because God is, by nature, generous.  When all the workers come in from the field to be paid, and the landowner gives each a full day's wage regardless of how long the worker toiled, the landowner is not being unfair.  The landowner is being generous.

In the letter to the Philippians, Paul encourages the Christians in Philippi to live their lives in a manner worthy of the gospel.  If these new Christians live in a manner worthy of the gospel, Paul will know that they are united, standing firm in one spirit.  In the story from Exodus, complaining divides: the people are separated from their leaders, Moses and Aaron, who they hold somewhat responsible for their hunger and misery.  The story begins "The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness."  In the parable, clearly the workers who labored all day have hard feelings against those who worked one hour and received a full day's pay.  The workers in the vineyard, who, of course, represent all who labor in God's vineyard, including us, are divided by their complaint over God's equal treatment of everyone no matter how long or hard some worked and how little others worked.  Complaining divides the vineyard.

Our complaints to God are real and often come from very real distress in our lives.  Scripture is clear that God hears our complaints and holds them in God's heart.   But the question of whether or not complaining works to get God to do what we want God to do is another matter. The stories of Scripture are unclear on the answer to that question. What scripture does make clear is that we are called to live, not like the first laborers who thought they had been cheated, but like the last laborers who understood the generosity of the landowner.  The lives we live in deep gratitude for that generosity will be lives worthy of the gospel of Christ.

Amen.

Forgiveness

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
September 14, 2014

19 Proper A

This week, as we marked the 13th anniversary of 9/11, I am reminded of a quote from the short, furry, philosopher in the two Star Wars trilogies. In Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace, Yoda says to young Anakin Skywalker "Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering."  Those days from 13 years ago were days of fear that left us feeling  powerless in the face of evil. Too often, that fear did become anger, the anger too often became hate, and the hate certainly led to suffering.  As I read and hear about the atrocious acts of violence around the world today and in our country today, along with the stories of Ebola in West Africa and other instances of grave human suffering, I may not feel that same fear, but I can see the fear on the faces of those whose lives or the lives of their loved ones are in grave danger.  And I feel that sense of powerlessness-that there is nothing I as one person or even we as one church can do in the face of such atrocities.  Powerlessness may lead to fear, but powerlessness can also lead to inertia, because it seems like there is nothing one person can do or we throw up our hands in despair and wait for God to act.

In the story from Exodus, after all, God does seem to take matters into God's own hands.  The Israelites finally have Pharaoh's permission to leave Egypt, after God has taken the first born of every Egyptian family and spared the Hebrew families.  The Israelites depart quickly before Pharaoh changes his mind and sends the Egyptian army after them.  God protects the Israelites as they flee with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, preventing the Egyptians from getting too close.  When the Israelites finally reach the sea, Moses stretches out his arms and God drives the waters back so the Israelites can cross on dry land.  Then God closes the sea to drown the Egyptian army.  While part of me is appalled at a God who could not think of a more creative way to save the Hebrews than to drown their enemy, another part of me wishes God would act so decisively in the face of all that threatens innocent people now.  If God could take care of the Hebrew people then, surely God could protect suffering innocent people now.

What I can easily forget, is that God did not act alone.  While in this particular bit of the story, God does all the heavy lifting, if we look back, God called Moses from the burning bush and God told Moses to deliver the people from the Egyptians and lead them to a land of milk and honey.  Moses offers lots of good reasons why he, Moses, is not the person for the job-no one will believe him, for starters.  And Moses is not eloquent, and Moses killed a man in Egypt, so going back to Egypt is a really bad idea.  God responds to each of Moses's excuses with a counter argument, then says to Moses "I will be with you" and sends Moses on his way back to Egypt to bring God's people out of slavery.

When I wonder what one person or one church can do in the face of overwhelming adversity, I think about Moses and about what I, myself, have said over and over again.  If everyone thinks that their one little bit cannot do any good, then nothing will happen.  But if everyone contributes their one person worth, then together, we can make a difference.  If everyone says "what good can my one prayer for peace do" and no one prays for peace, then peace does not have a chance.  If everyone says "what good can my few dollars do to help relief agencies get supplies into isolated areas," no relief efforts will happen.  If everyone says "there is nothing I can do to stop racial violence" then nothing will happen.  God hears each of our excuses, reminds us that we are the Body of Christ, tells us that we have been sent the Holy Spirit to be with us, and sends us on our way to make a difference.  Inertia is not an option.

But what do we do with those very real feelings of fear, anger, and even hatred?  Another favorite quote of mine is from Nelson Mandela, who spent 27 years of his life in prison during apartheid and had every reason to be angry and bitter.  Mandela is quoted as saying "Resentment is like drinking poison, then hoping it will kill your enemies."  This morning, we hear Jesus tell a parable about forgiveness.  In the parable, the slave who was forgiven his great debt proceeded to refuse to forgive the debt of his fellow slave.  The forgiven slave has his fellow slave thrown in jail until that slave can pay his debt, despite the forgiveness he himself has received.  When the lord finds out about the actions of the forgiven slave, he hands the forgiven slave over to be tortured until he can pay his entire debt.  Because he could not forgive his fellow slave, the once forgiven slave will now be bound to his debt forever.

 If we think that forgiveness is about condoning evil and pretending that atrocious events never happened, I think it is safe to say that forgiveness will never happen, whether we are talking about terrorism, abuse, violent crime, betrayal, or any of the many human acts that cause pain in our lives.  God does not want us to condone evil or act like atrocities never happened.  But God also does not want us to let our anger and bitterness bind us to those harmful actions as the slave in the parable was bound to his debt.  The way to break the cycle of fear, anger, hate, and suffering that Yoda describes, with the accompanying resentment Mandela spoke of, is the forgiveness Jesus describes.  Just as forgiveness could have freed the slave in the parable, forgiveness frees us to make a difference as Moses did, not bound to fear, anger, hate, or suffering.  The forgiveness Jesus describes leads to peace. Peace leads to freedom.  Freedom leads to action.

Amen.

Accessibility

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
September 7, 2014

Accessibility

When Don and I came to Christ Church for the first time in June, 25 years ago, we came in the High Street entrance and we saw a large sheet of visqueen hanging next to the pulpit.  The East Entrance was still under construction and, quite frankly, the entire building was a mystery to me.  We managed to find the nursery for our then 2 year old son, Slocomb, but I tell you the truth when I tell you that I was elected to the vestry before we ever found the Parish Hall.  The addition of the East Entrance certainly did not solve the problem of the maze that is Christ Church, but the East Entrance does provide us a wonderful gathering spot to welcome our guests and each other and makes Christ Church physically accessible to all people.

As we celebrate the 25th anniversary of the East Entrance today, interestingly we hear about doorways in our reading from Exodus.  In a passage that seems to flow between remembering a past event, the event itself, and celebrating that event in the future, we hear God tell the Hebrew people to take some of the blood of the lamb they have slaughtered and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the house in which they eat it.  At the end of the passage, God tells the people that the blood will be a sign and when God sees the blood, God will pass over the houses of the Hebrew people when the plague of death strikes the Egyptians.

The story of the Passover raises lots of questions.  Does God not love for the Egyptians as part of the whole human family, whether they know it or not?  What kind of God kills innocent children?  Should innocent families suffer because of the stubbornness of Pharaoh who will not let the Hebrew people go? I do not have answers to all of these questions.  The Scriptures are full of violence, whether we like it or not, just as human life is full of violence, as we know all too well.  Just like in present day life, we can't explain the violence or make it understandable, nor should we use scripture to justify violence.  What we do know about the story from Exodus is that the blood of the lamb on the doorposts of the Hebrews marks the Hebrew people as belonging to God.  In the Passover story, this identity means that God will pass over the houses of the Hebrew people in this final of the 10 plagues.  Later, the Hebrew people will hang a mezuzah on their doorway. The mezuzha is a small box that contains these words from the book of Deuteronomy: "Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord alone.  You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and will all your might.  Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart.  Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are way, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates."  These words are called the Shema and are a reminder to the people who live in the house that they belong to God and are called to live as people of God.  Whether the blood of the lamb that marks the Passover, or the beautiful words of the Shema hanging on the door to a home, the message is that this house and the occupants belong to God.

As we celebrate 25 years of being a physically accessible church, we, too, are called to remember that this church and her occupants belong to God.  While our doorposts are not marked with the great words from Deuteronomy, this is the place where we gather each week to remember that God is God and we are not, that if we love, we fulfill all the commandments, and that we are called to both teach our children and learn from them about the faith.  If this house, this church, and all her people belong to God, obviously the house should be accessible to all people.  The East Entrance was built to provide access from the entrance up to this space or down to the Parish Hall level for all people, regardless of ability.  But there is more to being accessible than having a building that can be navigated without stairs.

Access is also about hospitality.  If this house and her occupants, that's us, belong to God, then the hospitality of this place should be God's hospitality.  Paul's words to the Romans this morning sum up the commandments for us in a way similar to the way the words from Deuteronomy do as they hang on the doorposts of Jewish homes.  Paul tells us that the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.  Paul tells us to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ."  Offering genuine access is treating all who enter this place with the welcome Jesus would have for them.

The Scriptures acknowledge that loving with the love of Jesus is not always easy.  Sometimes the work is hard.  We get cross with each other, or we disagree, or we hurt each other.  We hear Jesus tell his disciples what to do if one member of the church sins against another, and casting people out into the utter darkness is not one of the options. Dialogue, concern, and respect are the options.  If the offender refuses to listen to the whole church, Jesus tells the disciples to treat such a person as a Gentile and a tax collector.  That seems simple and to the point.  But  how did Jesus treat Gentiles and tax collectors?  In short, he called them to be his disciples and he dined with them.  Earlier in Matthew's gospel, Jesus was scorned by the religious leaders of the day for being a friend of tax collectors and sinners.  Jesus is not saying that we have to endure offensive behavior, or continue in unhealthy relationships, or look the other way when someone acts in ways that are detrimental to the body of Christ.  What Jesus is saying is that we don't get to decide who is in and who is out of the Kingdom of Heaven.  We are to offer hospitality and make the Kingdom of Heaven accessible to all people.

The question of accessibility before us today is not the question of physical accessibility.  Today, as we give thanks for the people whose vision made this building physically accessible to all people, we are reminded that there are a lot of people who do not find the Christian faith accessible, for a variety of reasons.  Perhaps they have been hurt by the church, shunned or rejected because of sexual orientation, or life circumstances, or a limitation other than physical.  Perhaps they are busy families who cannot see putting one more thing on the calendar and church looks a lot like one more activity.  Perhaps they have not heard of a place that lives by love, not judgement, where we don't all have to think alike and questions are valued, and where children and youth are valued and active members.  The question before us as we move into the next 25 years is how to be an accessible community of faith in a new way.  We are called to offer the hospitality of God to all who come through these doors and to make the faith of the Church as accessible to others as we have made our building.

Amen.