Psalm 146; Luke 16:19-31)
Sun, Sept 25, 2016 – UBC Digby – J G White

Robert Frost: The Road Less Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

We face many forks in the road, from day to day. And the destination changes because of the way. Today we heard another parable of Jesus. A story of two people who did not seem to have many choices. But watch closely for the way of escape.
The story of the Rich Man, unnamed, and Lazarus, the poor man. Is the parable about riches and poverty? Jesus says much about money and the misuse thereof. As we read through Luke’s Gospel, the stories come one after another about: counting the cost before starting a building project, a lost coin that gets found, a prodigal son who wastes his inheritance, a dishonest manager who acts shrewdly when he gets fired. Today, from chapter sixteen, Jesus tells this parable about a tremendously rich man and a desperately poor man. They both die, and things are quite reversed for them in the afterlife.
When hiking the Cape Split trail the destination is the Cape. The top of the rocky cliffs, overlooking the ocean. Overlooking another piece of land separated by a tremendous gorge or crevasse. Beyond that there is another island of rock separated by a dramatic gap, a split in the North Mountain. And beyond that more rocky outcroppings down on the beach where the raging tides sweep by and roar for much of the day, every day and night.
It is named Cape Split for the great splits in the magnificent peninsula of stone. Standing on top, at the end of the trail, one looks out across a great gulf that is fixed between your sod, and the turf of a large rock pinnacle that is inhabited only by grasses and gulls. There is no possible way for a person to cross to the other side, across that split.
We are told there is a great gap in our world, a great gap between the rich and the poor. Do you see it? How can we escape this split?
I heard Jean Vanier interviewed again, for the radio program Ideas. I heard him tell his anecdote of seeing the deep divide between rich and poor on a visit to Chile, years ago. Vanier speaks of “crossing the road.” So, he got to Chile. His driver picked him up at the airport to go to Santiago. The driver, like many a taxi drive, is a natural tour guide. he said, as they went down the road, “on the left, all the slum areas. On the right, all the houses of rich people, protected by police and military.” He said, “Nobody crosses the road. Everybody is frightened. The rich are frightened, the poor are frightened; everybody is frightened.” (video: “Become Weaker,” The Work of the People)
The gap is great. And if we think we are someone in the middle, our Master asks us to see who we really side with. Who we want to be, and be with.
Reading Jesus’ story, we see the rich man, the poor man named Lazarus, Father Abraham, and the five brothers of the rich man, mentioned at the end. Where do you fit in the story? Are you the poor man? No, no, not quite so desperate as that. Are you the unnamed rich man? No, of course not, we say! So, do we tend to side with those in need, or those who are prosperous? What would Jesus do? We hear these parables Jesus told; what did Jesus do?
Or are we like the five brothers of the rich man? Still alive, and needing to be warned so they don’t end up like their tortured brother in the flames of Hades. It may be that our God is still getting through to us, while we seek riches instead of sharing, in this world of 7 billion humans. While we seek comfort and security – and luxury – within this creation, a planet that is groaning with the pains of pollution and consumption and extinction. While we seek self-help and self-sufficiency in a world where we need a Saviour for our souls and bodies.
Between us and you a great chasm has been fixed.
Is the parable about eternal geography?
Jesus’ parable paints the dramatic picture of a man burning in hell’s flames, looking away and seeing another man, peacefully in the company of the great ancestor Abraham. The man in Hades even gets to talk, across the chasm, with Father Abraham. But there is no way to cross the gap.
Many a hearer of Jesus’ story has wondered what details we can glean about the afterlife here. Is there really fire burning in Hell? Can you glimpse heaven from those flames? Can those in everlasting bliss look down and see those who are being eternally tormented? Or is Lazarus waiting with Abraham for the final resurrection, and Paradise actually comes later?
It is easy to have our own ideas about all this. Me, for instance, I prefer to think that when we enter heaven by God’s grace, we won’t be troubled with being able to look down upon the troubles of earth, not to mention Hades.
It’s like hiking Cape Split last week: it was foggy all day. From the beach at the base of the great cliffs and craggy rocks, we could just see the top enshrouded with fog. Once we got around to the top of those ___ m cliffs, we could not see down to the beach at all. Could barely see the flat pinnacle of stone right in front of us, separated by a great gap.
One thing I would suggest. Jesus told this vivid parable within the language and understanding of His hearers. We Christians today don’t talk about dying and going to be with Father Abraham, but that is how the ancient Jews pictured what could happen at death. And perhaps it was easier for them, 2000 years ago, to think of all who had died being rather close together – some suffering terribly, and some at peace – separated by a great gulf.
The Jewish understanding of what happens after death is not a simple story. The whole Old Testament saga gives a variety of teachings, and their understanding evolves through the ages. By the time we get to Jesus, there clearly were disagreements among Jews about the afterlife.
It seems clear that our Master is telling, here, that the next life is connected to how we live this life. In this instance, it is related to luxurious rich living, and deadly poverty. So perhaps the point of the parable is not to explain what happens when we die, but what our living now can be like.
I have five brothers… warn them!
So, is the parable about warnings? Heeding warnings and warning others? Yes.
‘A word to the wise is sufficient,’ my father would often say, when we kids were young. Yet, so often, we are not wise, and need to be told again and again. Do you heed every warning you are given?
When hiking to Cape Split there are signs posted along the way. DANGER. Eroding, unstable cliffs. Stay on the trail. Keep pets on leash. Safety is your responsibility. And we locals hear in the news, from year to year, of those who get into trouble on the cliffs and the beach below. A few rescue operations happen each year, a occasionally the sad recovery of a body. And the new signs on this trail will no more prevent accidents and foolhardiness than the signs and guards at Peggy’s Cove. Another warning? Another sign? Put up a fence? There can only be so many warnings.
And so it was for the rich man burning up in Jesus’ story. When he cannot be helped, even with a drop of water to ease his torment, he pleads for his living brothers to be warned.
What does Father Abraham say? They’ve got Moses and the Prophets. What does that mean? They have the Scriptures. They already have the warnings.
‘But you go and warn them… please!’
No, says Abraham, even if someone rose up from the grave, that would not convince people.
We know all about what happens to our Jesus who was telling this story. The power and poignancy of this ‘punch line’ was not lost when Luke wrote this whole thing down later. In real life, not just in a story, Jesus comes back to life from the grave. And sure enough, even He, risen from the dead, is not believed by everyone.
Might it be that we get confirmation from Jesus that we are following Him? And we are assured of our walk with Him when we are inspired to do as God does. A life of following the way described in Psalm 146. The Eternal frees those who are imprisoned; makes the blind see; lifts up those whose backs are bend in labour; cherishes those who do what is right; looks after those who journey; takes care of the orphan and the widow. This became Jesus’ ministry… and it becomes ours too.
Escape the split between rich and poor in this life.
Escape the terrible justice of the afterlife: the punishments from which Christ can save us.
Escape these both by heeding the warnings of scripture, and of Jesus Himself, who is alive and well after death and destruction. Alleluia! Amen.

(1 Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 16:1-13)

Sun, Sept 18, 2016 – UBC Digby – J G White

Only our third week on Parables of Jesus in Luke, and we get to what Fr. Richard Capon called ‘The Hardest Parable.’  Jesus’ story of the dishonest manager.  I have spent a week meandering through this parable, and the comments that follow it, here in Luke 16.  I have not been able to sort it out. Jesus confuses me!

Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves.

If you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?

You cannot serve both God and money.

After a while I thought of having a dialogue sermon with you… a conversation, questions and answers.  But I realized that was cheating, taking the lazy route.  It would probably be better for me to offer a dialogue sermon some week when I feel I have lots to say, have lots I know, and plenty of answers.  

After a 9 km hike yesterday – along rugged seashore and amid peaceful woods, one acquaintance who met me at the Point Prim lighthouse asked if my sermon today would be about wandering long in the woods and finding one’s way to The Lighthouse? No.

So I have wandered thru the commentaries of many a scholar, explaining this parable.  A few perspectives on the story are appealing.  Yet I still feel unsure which path I want to take, what destination I prefer, what the Spirit is saying to the Churches today with this bit of the Word.  

It has also been a heavy week of pastoral care and concern for me.  Been on the phone a lot with some folks in various messes that are a tangle to sort out.  Not to mention the usual illnesses and losses that are besetting some of our people right now.  Blazing a trail through the woods is ‘a walk in the park’ compared with finding a good path in our lives.  And at least as tricky as this hardest of Jesus’ parables.

What is the point of the parable? We may well ask.  Is the ‘moral’ one of the four or five endings here, in Luke 16?  In this Jesus story, is the point: 1 be more shrewd in your dealings?  Or, 2 make friends of unscrupulous accountants.  Or, 3 be faithful with a little and you can be faithful with a lot.  Or, 4 you can’t serve God and riches.  

There are many lessons here from Jesus, but what comes from the parable itself?  

Yesterday, twenty people starting out to walk from the Point Prim lighthouse could have each asked, ‘why am I setting out on this hike?’  There would be many answers.  None of them started the journey thinking it would be pointless.  

In our day to day lives, there are many times to ask: Why did this happen to me?  To them?  What is the point of this problem that came along?  Or of this opportunity that I took?  Or the decision I made back there?  

If Jesus’ little stories get people wondering, ‘what is the point,’ so He will also come alongside us when we ask about our own life journey.  And when we cannot see the purpose of a certain chapter in life, Christ may speak to us and say, as the people in Jeremiah’s day were told,  For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (J 29:11)

The parable of the dishonest manager.  Hmmm…

Who is the good guy in the story? Who is the bad guy?  The rich man – is he good and his manager bad?  Or is the sneaky, shrewd manager the good guy?  Maybe even the debtors and the good folks in the parable?

Robert Capon’s comments on this Jesus’ parable are remarkable.  He goes so far to suggest that this sneaky steward, who gives the debtors big breaks on the bills they owe, is a Christ figure in the story.  It is a parable of grace, for the manager sort-of dies and rises from the dead – he is fired, but then is praised.  In his ‘death’ and ‘resurrection’ he raises others with him – the debtors are blessed.  And the manager is a crook, like Jesus, who did not follow all the rules and died for it.  

Well, who am I to declare this the best interpretation of Luke 16:1-10?  But it would be nice to know… who is a good guy in this parable, and who is bad?

So too in our personal lives.  In many circumstances we put a lot of energy into: Who is to blame?  Who really did what?  Why did he or she do what was done?  What punishment and result?  

I have wondered a lot this past week about two couples I know who are split up and separated at this moment – in very different ways.  In both of the two situations there have been ongoing problems.  The problems are complex.  The stories are long and convoluted.  The upset now is tremendous for these people.  And the future quite uncertain in both cases.  My heart is so concerned for each of these four people.

Who did what?  Where do we pin the blame?  Do we pick sides, and if we don’t how do we bless both?   

Perhaps the words of the apostle Paul to Timothy come into play here.  We let go of judgments and do our best for each person.  Because: God desires that everyone be saved and come to know the truth.  The one to blame God wants to save.  The one who was harmed God wants to save.  The innocent bystanders and the bad betrayers… sometimes there is a bit of both in everyone.  

The parable of the shrewd steward… What is our response to the story?  What do we do now?  Jesus has told us the parable.  Now what?  Is the ball in our court?  And how do we play along now?  

One of the Bible scholars I read talked about this story getting at the urgency of discipleship.  I guess this is about the urgency of having one’s mismanagement of life suddenly found out – and we had better do something about it, quick!  I don’t know.  That idea does not inspire me very much.

How do we respond to our story?  To the real life story around us?  What do I say?  What do I do?  What do I choose?  How do I deal with this?

Changes comes along for us like the thickening plot of a novel.  We turn the page, and must face a new challenge.  Last week, Myra’s mother Edith died, after a time of illness.  Myra and family must enter this new chapter, as they give thanks for their mother and express their sadness.  

Last week, Carolyn’s mother Avis got the call to move from her apartment into Tideview Terrace.   Another big transition for a senior.  Avis seems to have handled it with grace and such a positive attitude.  

Jesus told parables to challenge people to respond.  

And the parable of the dishonest manager gets me wondering… Can we go back and try again?  Figure out another way?  When the steward is caught in his mismanagement, he thinks quickly on his feet, and does something to change the course of his life.  As one Bible study book asked, when he cut people’s bills by 50% or 20%, was he simply giving up his own commission?  Or was he keeping secret from the debtors his being fired by his boss?  Again, I wish some wise book would just come out and tell me what this parable of Jesus means! 🙂

I will simply have to keep going back to Luke 16 for the rest of my life.  Listen to Jesus repeat this story again and again.  Sit with the Holy Spirit, and with my own experience.  And wonder.  

So it is in my life and yours.  We discover, by the grace of Jesus, ways we can go back and revisit, pray, counsel, cope, forgive, and so forth.  The troublesome chapters, the strange stories from our lives… Jesus can go back in time with us and reach into them.  There can be a second chance.  And this blesses our present, and our future days.  

Maybe the ‘hardest parable’ is the story of your life or my life.  

Because we actually live it!  It is not just a tale told to guide us.

Life is complicated; the path is not always clear before us.

Who is right and who is wrong, in all the scenarios of our living?  This ain’t clear…  to us.

What is the meaning of our life story?  

Does it have a happy ending?

If Christ has anything to do with it, He means it for good.  Your life and mine.  And what was failure He can redeem and create success.  

Here is a little story, a parable, by an old preacher, long gone.  A story about an old-fashioned man named Safed, and his wife, Ketura…  (Barton, pp. 139-141)

(Psalm 139; Luke 14:25-33)  Sun, Sept 4, 2016 – UBC Digby – J G White

Just yesterday here a person came to see me to ask if I would baptize her.  This is the first time I have had this request, after being here two years.  

It opens up a great conversation about the spiritual life, and about this obedient right-of-passage we call baptism.  I certainly would welcome any other people who want to look into this.  We will have some times to get together to study what this means, and what it means to you personally. Talk with me if you are at all interested.

Christian baptism is an event that proclaims, among other things, that a person has become a disciple of the Master, Jesus Christ.  And as the stories of Luke chapter 14 today tell us, to be an apprentice to Jesus in the school of life, one must count the cost. To follow Him is to let go of things.

One way or another we each count the cost when an opportunity arises.  I get a phone call inviting me to have a bit part in a dinner theatre in November.  I must consider: do I have the time? Does it sound interesting?  Do I have even the tiny bit of talent needed for the role?  

I meet up with someone I know who asks me if I would sign up to volunteer with the Wharf Rat Rally.  Hmm.  Will I be available?  And When?  What can I do to help out?  Do I want to be involved?  

In many instances, you and I take on a new project, great or small, by letting go of other things we could have been doing.  And we are willing to pay the cost – be it our time, our talents, or our treasure – if we see the greater value of the new thing we will do? So it is in our personal spiritual pilgrimages.

Richard Rohr says All great spirituality is about letting go. I say this as an absolute statement. Francis of Assisi profoundly understood that. He let go of his life in the upper class and joyfully lived in solidarity with those at the bottom, the sick and the poor.

Rohr continues:  We tend to think that more is naturally better…  Spiritual wisdom reveals that less is more. Jesus taught this, and the holy ones live it.

The Gospel of Jesus – this Good News that is a life-changer for us – is quite counter-cultural.  So many of us have life so easy.  What do we sacrifice for the good that God is working at doing?  I see how I live, and I really enjoy it when ‘life is easy,’ and I’m ‘up on the mountain.’  I don’t want to give up the little selfish dreams and plans I have for myself.  I want to be financially safe and secure.  I want to be popular.  I want to be in control.  I want to avoid pain and problems.  I’ve gotten pretty good and achieving all these things.  But maybe they are not achivements. Something far better might be available in my life if I became willing to give these up and over to God.   

No wonder Jesus’ words of warning to a crowd of followers seem so stark and extreme: those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples. (Lk 14:33)  What part of my everything am I holding onto, when letting go would open a door?

I notice in ADC Today – the colourful newsletter of our Divinity College – an article about the late Josie Nickerson.   Years ago I knew her and her husband from my congregation in Windsor.  The article speaks about a sacrificial legacy she left behind – $300,000 for a divinity student scholarship fund. Josie’s favourite scripture was a profound one: Philippians 3:10.  I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death.  

No wonder Jesus Himself spoke with such strong language, that day, to a crowd of followers:  If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.  (Lk 14:26-27)

We have this sense of who our Jesus is that tells us He did not really mean this hatred.  Yet He sure was a strong preacher with strong verbs to get his point across.  To take one of the Ten Commandments – honour your father and your mother – and turn it upside down was a powerful tool of public speaking then, and now.  His point is the primacy of being His disciple.  Jesus takes first place, I am second.  

Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously said, in his book, The Cost of Discipleship, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”  Bonhoeffer went on to say:  It may be a death like that of the first disciples who had to leave home and work and follow him, or it may be a death like Luther’s, who had to leave the monastery and go out into the world.  But it is the same death every time – death in Jesus Christ, the death of the old man at his call.  (p. 99)

Bonhoeffer is hinting at New Testament imagery from various places, such as Colossians 3:9&10  …you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator.  Jesus said,  Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it. (Mtt 10:39)

There is a great and common danger: to be a ‘follower’ of Jesus without being a disciple.  Jesus almost becomes, to many, more of a celebrity than a Sovereign. Jesus may have more fans than followers.

Once someone was talking to a great scholar about a younger man.  He said, “So and so tells me that he was one of your students.”  The teacher answered [devastatingly], “He may have attended my lectures, but he was not one of my students.”

I would tend to preach a gentle gospel, week by week, not crying out that most of you are not very devoted disciples.  But I wonder if many of us are feeble followers, not avid apprentices of Jesus.

Watch events at a Wharf Rat Rally, see the stunt drivers, the drift Tryke drivers, the time trials.  Some riders are very accomplished.   They have worked hard to do what they can now do.  

Now consider our walk with Jesus.  I’ve barely learned to take my salvation out for a spin and see what it will really do.

William Barclay claimed: It is one of the supreme handicaps of the church that in it there are so many distant followers of Jesus and so few real disciples.  (Wm Barclay, The Daily Study Bible, Luke, p.196)

Are you a distant follower?  Even a happy, satisfied, but distant follower of Christ?  To be a deeply devoted disciple should not be optional.  But it has been so – in all our of lifetimes.  Do you, like me, have your better moments when you wish to do better with God?  Long for more and to make more of a difference?  Regret the wasted years of following far behind where the action is in the spiritual world?

The stories of Jesus live on and on as His warnings are repeated.  Count the cost.  It is costly to be His disciple.  And it is so worth it.  Jesus’ little parables of building a tower, or a king going into battle, warn us that following the happy crowd is not enough.  

But let me tell another parable.  A contemporary parable.  A new story about following our Jesus.

The Parable of the Blackberry Picker.

Once upon a time – it was the last day of August – a man decided it was time to get out and pick blackberries.  How delicious and healthy they would be!  The fellow grabbed three little buckets and jumped in his car, looking forward to the harvest.

But the man did not remember for sure where he had seen good patches of blackberry bushes. So he drove here and there, up and down dirt roads, wasting time.

When he found some and wandered around, he did not have a backpack to put his berry buckets in.

When he found a good blackberry patch, he just had a short-sleeve shirt and short pants on, so the thorns kept him from many of the best berries.

And when he stopped to pick for a while, the mosquitos came, and where the thorns did not prick him, the bugs bit.

You might think that is the end of the Parable – and that you know the moral of the story.  But…

The next day – the first day of September – the same man went out again to pick blackberries.  This time he asked a friend where they grew.

This time he put his berry buckets in a backpack.

This time he wore a long-sleeve shirt and heavy, long pants.

This time he was ready for the mosquitos.

And this time he harvested more berries, in a shorter period of time, than the day before.

However well you and I have followed the Master in the past – or how poorly – tomorrow is a new day.  We can count the cost, be better prepared, and decide to follow Jesus.  Perhaps some of us who are already baptised can study again, and retrain together for a deeper discipleship, a closer following of Jesus.

May it be so, with His grace and power. AMEN.