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PREACHING AT ST. MARK’S CHURCH
“Icons”
The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
11 September 2011
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Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church
Berkeley, California
Genesis 50:15-21
Psalm 103:1-13
Romans 14:1-12
St. Matthew 18:21-35
INI
Green?!
I got a telephone call from our good deacon on Thursday who wondered if we should use the liturgical color of red (red being the color for martyrs) for our services of remembrance today. “Or, perhaps”, she said, “White!” I paused for a moment and then said, “I was thinking of the possibility for purple – for penance and forgiveness.” We left it hanging in the air – these possibilities of adding an additional layer of symbolic meaning to a day already well freighted with it.
It took me a while, and a couple of conversations, not necessarily about September Eleventh, but rather things and people in general that I began to see the light. And it was in a deeply moving conversation with someone else, who was actually there, that I knew what we needed to do. I knew what the color needed to be, and what the symbolism needed to convey. The color was to be green – you know, the endless green of Ordinary Time, the green that comes with the rebirth of the earth during the Rainy Season (or for other parts, Spring). It was to be the green of life, and of the living. That is what it needed to be.
Why?
The Texts
Well, let’s take some before I answer that question. I was stunned a few weeks ago when I took a peak at the lectionary to see what today’s readings might offer us on this day of remembrance. In the first reading we hear of Joseph’s brothers again asking, after their father’s death, for forgiveness for selling Joseph in to slavery. It was a request that was tinged with dishonesty as well, they not having the courage to address it themselves to him, guised it in a request by the father, that had never been made. Joseph sees through all this, and yet forgives them, again.
The Psalm, a bridge between Psalm 102, a personal lament, and Psalm 104, a praise psalm of God’s continuing renewal of creation, this psalm (103) thanks God for the concerns of Psalm 102, and then veers away from the personal and individual to picture a God who brings forgiveness and life to all of creation. “As far as the east is from the west, so far has God removed our sins from us.” And just we’re really clear about God’s intent (is this mercy intended for Israel only, or for more than that) the psalmist provides the vision, “The Lord executes righteousness and judgment for all who are oppressed.”
In Romans, Paul asks us to tolerant of other people’s religious practices. It was those who practiced dietary restrictions vs. those who did not. Paul asks the Romans, and he asks us on every day, and especially on this day,
“Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God.”
And finally in the Gospel for today, Peter wants to set a limit on the forgiveness that he has been bound to offer. “Shall I forgive as many as seven times?” Jesus’ answer is clear and overwhelming, “No, not seven times, but seventy times seven,” in other words the perfection of offering forgiveness – an infinity of forgiveness.
This is the context that the lectionary serendipitously sets for us today: Confession tinged with dishonesty, a God who will have all in the kingdom of God’s rule, a recognition that all of us, no matter who we are, will be subject to the judgment, so why should we judge? Forgive unceasingly. Now, with that in mind let us take some time to see what this day calls us to do.
The Icons
The icon is a wonderful thing. Through it (it serves as a sort of window, you know), through it we can begin to see the divine. So as people kneel to be anointed with oil, and have hands laid upon them with prayers for healing, they can look through the icon of Our Lady and Our Lord, and see a mother’s tender care, or as the psalm for today describes it, “As a father cares for his children, so does the Lord care for those who fear God.” That is the reality that reaches out to us, and that we are bidden to touch.
Many icons will be offered to us today: two tall buildings either standing tall, or in phases of destruction; care givers of all kinds responding to the destruction around and about them; the photos of those who were missing, or who had died; the flag; the terrorists. What do we see through the windows of these icons? Do we see our enemies? Do we see our own failures as a country? Do we see pride of country? Do we see our need to forgive and be forgiven?
Peter’s question to Jesus is a good case in point. When he saw someone who had done him wrong – he saw the need to forgive, but he also, apparently, saw an icon of the wrong that sought to put limits on what Peter was willing to offer. He did not see an infinity of forgiveness that Christ bid him to offer. It is a hard request, this forgiveness thing. It is a hard thing to know what we need to do.
Perhaps when we are challenged in our ability to forgive we need to choose another icon, an icon different than the harm we have felt, an icon that shows forgiveness to us.
The Ordinary
As I mentioned earlier, I had an extraordinary conversation with someone this week, someone who was there, someone who was a witness – not only of the dreadful deeds of ten years ago, but of the ordinary forgiveness and humanity that Christ demands of us. She told stories of kindnesses given to her, and was surprised, as she told her story, that she was giving such kindness back – abundantly.
This is the ordinariness of life that appeals to me. This is the stuff that is required of us in any circumstances. It teaches me that often the extraordinary: September 11th, Hiroshima, Aremenia, Palestine, Jim Jones, the Sudan, all of these extraordinary moments in human history, are filled with ordinary human need and the ordinary human capacity to forgive, and to give what is needed at the time. The icon of the cross should stare back at us as we remember these events. It should stare back at us when we observe those who hurt us, or who are in any kind of need. It should stare back at us when we fall into the deep depression of our own unworthiness. “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us!”
Perhaps Paul says it best:
We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.
Please pray with me. These are the words of Saint Francis before the crucifix:
Most High
glorious God,
enlighten the darkness
of my heart.
Give me
right faith,
sure hope
and perfect charity.
Fill me with understanding
and knowledge
that I may fulfill
your command. Amen.
SDG
Thank you, Michael. Straight to the point.
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