Getting What We Deserve

A sermon I delivered in class this month, based upon Job 2:1-8 (NRSV). I preached off of notes and pictures rather than written text, so this is just an adaptation of that presentation.

I invite you to read Job 2:1-8 first, noting that the Hebrew for "(the) Satan" also translates to mean "the accuser."

By the time we catch up with Job in the beginning of Chapter 2, he's already lost his numerous sons and daughters and all of his livestock and property. Job was a well-respected man in his community, and having all of these things had helped to shape his high social status. They're the kinds of things that made other people in the community look at him and say, "That Job must have done something right to be so blessed."

And then, just when it looks like it can't get any worse, he even loses his very health.

For the people of Job's time and place, all of this loss indicates one thing: Job must have done something wrong and now he's getting what he deserves. People believed that God would dish out rewards and punishments, an idea well established in Deuteronomy, which the storytellers and early audiences would be thinking with here.

But for the life of him, Job can't figure out what he could have done to be suffering this series of unfortunate events. His friends use common sense and religious tradition to make their point, but in the face of all of this logic and theology, Job only knows that this doesn't line up with his own experience. He has to rethink what he and his community have believed about God.

This is what Job's integrity is really about - being authentic. Not just doing good things or praising God (and by Chapter 3 Job won't seem as patient as we might think); but also standing by what he knows to be true.

Even if we don't experience the same losses that Job does, we 21st century Christians have plenty of voices competing to explain suffering to us.

Some voices ask, "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Some say, "You're too bad to be forgiven."

Some voices pray, "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven," and then urge people to be stoic and to bear pain and hardship - even the kinds that humans cause one another - because somehow God derives glory from this.

Being apathetic or desensitized to pain is not the mark of strong faith. Seeking the power of God, even in the midst of human weakness and crisis, can be the mark of strong faith. Having the strength and compassion not to condemn someone for their own suffering can be the mark of strong faith.

Unfortunately, we - the church, the world - may have come up with even more ways to justify suffering than to alleviate it.

Over the course of history, religious peoples have:

...claimed that the pain of childbirth was inflicted on women because of Eve's part in the Fall,
...identified illness and disability with demon possession,
...blamed victims for bringing acts of violence upon themselves,
...speculated that AIDS arose to punish homosexuality,
...sanctioned genocide and slavery in the name of God,
...and - just like Job's friends - touted the adage that "you reap what you sow."

It's time to realize that suffering, like grace, is not so conditional. It's a realization we need to face for all of those people like Job whose hardships only become worse when accusations rain down on them.

Accusations.

And it's even more than that: it's important for everyone who has ever been told that they are "undeserving" in one way or another - too innocent to face pain, too guilty to find grace.

Because if we don't acknowledge that bad things can happen to people in spite of the good that they do, how can we ever accept the idea that grace can come to people in spite of their sins and mistakes? How can we accept forgiveness for what we ourselves have done?

Do you know that you are forgiven? For everything. No matter what.

We must believe that grace is just as real and unconditional as suffering is - and ultimately more triumphant.

The Gospel of Matthew says that God causes the sun "to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous."

So what's the point?

Maybe the point isn't our righteousness or whether or not we deserve what comes our way, but that God aches with human suffering, and rejoices when we find grace and hope in spite of it.

If You Wanna Get Your M.Div (Song for Kirk)

A parody based on Wannabe by the Spice Girls

Dedicated to Kirk, who planted the idea in my head (and who recently celebrated a birthday - happy belated birthday, Kirk!)

Yo, I'll tell you about Kant, if you really, really want
Yeah, tell me about Kant, that's really what I want
I'll tell you about Kant, if you really, really want
Yeah, tell me about Kant, that's really what I want
I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)
I wanna really, really, really wanna Div-a-Div ah

If you want a future about the past
If you want Divinity, better study fast
Now don't go wasting your precious time
Stop procrastinating, make your next outline

I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)
I wanna really, really, really wanna Div-a-Div ah
If you wanna get your M.Div, you gotta get to the end
(Gotta get to the end)
School can last forever, research never ends
If you wanna get your M.Div, count to 84
That's how many credits will get you out the door

Oh, what do you think about that
Holy Communion meal?
When they lift the bread up is Christ Jesus real?
(Is he for real?)
It's not that I think
That it's absurd
Transubstantiation's just too big a word

Yo I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)
I wanna really, really, really wanna Div-a-Div ah

If you wanna get your M.Div, you gotta get to the end
(Gotta get to the end)
School can last forever, research never ends
If you wanna get your M.Div, count to 84
(To 84)
That's how many credits will get you out the door

So, Worship, Ethics, Theology
You wanna feel naïve? Take two terms of History
Read the Word in Bib Lit, and if your schedule fits,
Then take Greek like a geek and get your Logos on
Peace and Justice don't come for free, there's tuition fee
And by year three, ha you'll see

Cram for your exams and turn up all your jams
Cram for your exams and turn up all your jams

If you wanna get your M.Div, you gotta get to the end
(Gotta get to the end)
School can last forever, research never ends
If you wanna get your M.Div, count to 84
(To 84)
That's how many credits will get you out the door

If you wanna get your M.Div
You gotta, you gotta, you gotta, you gotta, you gotta
Cram, cram, cram, cram
(School can last forever)

Cram for your exams and turn up all your jams
Cram for your exams and turn up all your jams
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha
Cram for your exams and turn up all your jams
Cram for your exams and Div-a-Div ah
If you wanna get your M.Div

I'm Not Gonna (An Anthem for Amanda)

A parody based on Love Song by Sara Bareilles

I once heard that Sara Bareilles' anti-Love Song was written not for a romantic partner but for the music industry.  Bareilles wanted to compose songs for the sake of what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it.  It got me thinking about the kinds of compromises people might make in their professions – especially moral and creative compromises – and the choice to draw the line somewhere.

So this parody goes out to my friend Amanda and candidates for ministry of all denominations, with a special shout-out to the United Methodist Church's District Committee on Ordained Ministry (DCOM).

I haven't had the pleasure of going to DCOM yet, but I've heard a lot of stories about people considering ordination who have reservations about one issue or another that might prevent them from being ordained.  Often this means a conundrum for the candidate: How much can I disclose about what I believe, who I am, or what has happened in my past?  What language will I use in prayer and worship?  Will I speak to God differently while in the presence of my superiors and my parishioners?

I've heard about people who struggle with using patriarchal or lordship language for the divine; people who belong to the LGBT community or who would otherwise ordain or wed them in their pastoral role; and people who have different understandings of what it means to be welcoming, inclusive, or ecumenical and what it means for the United Methodist Church to brand itself with the slogan "Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors."  I've heard about people who challenge the desperate need for quantity over quality: attracting members but falling short of fortifying them and nourishing their souls.  I've heard about people who have lost their ministerial jobs or new opportunities because of health concerns (usually mental health), including one man who was at the top of a committee's list to become their next pastor until they discovered that he'd previously been institutionalized.

The fact that this man and others in all of these situations wrestle with how much to "tell" those who make decisions about their ordination or employment begs a few questions:

Do our churches want clergy who fit a certain image, even if someone must lie or withhold information about themselves, their personal histories, their health, their beliefs, their ideas?  To what extent will they support the virtues of authenticity and honesty?  To what extent are they willing to have diversity among the clergy – not just of race and age and so forth, but also of perspectives and abilities and experiences?

Please substitute the theme "I'm not gonna pray to 'Lord Jesus'" with the ordination-threatening issue of your choice, i.e. "I'm not gonna say I'm a straight man," "I'm not gonna call God the 'Father,'" or even something as broad as "I'm not gonna keep out the outcasts."  It's really about being authentic while pursuing your vocation more than any one theological conflict.

Heading to D-COM
Where you tell me
To breathe easy for awhile
But breathing gets harder
Even I know that
My ministry?
It's too soon to see
And my future's in your hands
(After the part I say what I need to)

Blank stares on your faces
No easy way to say this
You mean well, but you make this hard on me

I'm not gonna pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you're used to it, 'cause it serves you, you see
I'm not gonna pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you tell me it's make-or-breaking this
If I'll be ordained
I'm not gonna lie just to stay
If you want an honest clergy
Then I pray you don't desert me
When I stand
Before you today

I've learned the hard way
That we all say things you wanna hear
God's called on us
But it's still your call
You can still say who's in
What counts as sin
Fill the church with your closest kin
Hello to high and dry

Convince me to please you
Make me think that God wants this, too
I'm trying to let you hear me as I am

I'm not gonna pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you're used to it, 'cause it serves you, you see
I'm not gonna pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you tell me it's make-or-breaking this
If I'll be ordained
I'm not gonna change just to stay
And after all, I think it's wise
That I refuse to compromise
My conscience and lie here today

Promise me you'll leave the light on
To help me be
Whom God has called on
'Cause I believe there's a way
To accept me because I say
I won't pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you're used to it, 'cause it serves you, you see
I'm not gonna pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you tell me it's make-or-breaking this

Is that why you want a "Lord Jesus"?
'Cause you're used to it, 'cause it serves you, you see
I'm not gonna pray to "Lord Jesus"
'Cause you tell me it's make-or-breaking this
If I'll be ordained
I'm not gonna lie just to stay
If there's lordship language in it
I don't want it for a minute
And some silently agree but
I believe that our dear Jesus
Would want me to speak up today