The last word
Matthew 17:1-9
As is so often the case, the last thought in the text is the most important.
How often that is true in all of conversations. We save the best for last. We get that last word in, the one where we put the other in their place, or win the argument, or explain everything in clear and certain terms.
A former parishioner was a master of this conversational strategy. You knew that as soon as you got into a dialog with him, you needed to prepare yourself to stick around to the bitter end, for that was when whatever it was would be clear to see. Once he started with, "Have you ever really thought about cows?"
Well, no, I hadn't really considered cows.
He then launched into a detailed description of various and assorted bovine types and aspects of cow herding, and the quality of grasses in a pasture, and then, in a mighty jump shift, began to wax eloquent on the various Ford tractors he owned through the years, and then, in another jump shift, mentioned that someone needed to clean the gutters at church.
I was, of course, lost.
Then came the clinker--the essential tie that wove all the streams of thought into a single stream of logical progress. "Yep, cows come in shades and aspirations (his actual word), and you gotta have the right tools to keep 'em (hence, the tractors) with good stuff to feed 'em, kind of like church people, or the gutters don't get cleaned, outside or inside."
Well, there it was--the last thought tied the whole shebang together.
So, Jesus does with his befuddled disciples after they descend the mountain. They were lost, bowled over--Peter still babbling like a brook about tents, picnics, and camp meetings; the others just stunned to silence. What had they just seen? What was that they just heard? Jesus tells them not to mention it until after Easter--then it will come clear.
This last thought is absolutely essential as we seek to practice the faith. As we make our way, a lot of voices will tell us just what Jesus wants, who Jesus was, why we aren't right with Jesus, why we are the ONLY ones right with Jesus, what Jesus would do in the White House, and how to live a life of Jesus in TEN SIMPLE STEPS. We are left confused, befuddled, and lost.
Wait for Easter, Jesus tells us. Then it becomes clear.
Okay--what does Easter tell us?
First, it defines love for us. Jesus loves us. How much? He died to reclaim us from all that keeps us from God and from each other and from our own selves. Christ sacrificed himself, emptying himself to end everything that breaks or destroys us. So, to walk with Christ, become self-emptying and concerned first about the other person with you.
Second, it defines grace for us. Jesus forgave the very people stringing him up. That is grace. That is the way to keep whatever circle we find ourselves within whole and complete. Being right is not so important as being together. Allow for differences. Listen to other points of view. You do not have to accept them--Jesus did not accept the reasoning behind his death as his enemies named it--but we do have to love the person. Listen. Listen, again. Share your experience. Then listen, still again. That is grace.
Third, it defines the power of love. Jesus rose. We could not be rid of him. We could not overcome him. That is wondrous good news. It means that love can win the day, even when everything--i.e., everything--says it is not so. If we live in and through love, all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well. There is hope in all circumstances. Nothing was darker than the 36 hours of Good Friday into Easter dawn. Yet, light shone. Use that. Take that. Keep that.
As we allow Easter to speak, taking Christ's last word to the disciples to heart, we find our way.
And the gutters get cleaned.
As is so often the case, the last thought in the text is the most important.
How often that is true in all of conversations. We save the best for last. We get that last word in, the one where we put the other in their place, or win the argument, or explain everything in clear and certain terms.
A former parishioner was a master of this conversational strategy. You knew that as soon as you got into a dialog with him, you needed to prepare yourself to stick around to the bitter end, for that was when whatever it was would be clear to see. Once he started with, "Have you ever really thought about cows?"
Well, no, I hadn't really considered cows.
He then launched into a detailed description of various and assorted bovine types and aspects of cow herding, and the quality of grasses in a pasture, and then, in a mighty jump shift, began to wax eloquent on the various Ford tractors he owned through the years, and then, in another jump shift, mentioned that someone needed to clean the gutters at church.
I was, of course, lost.
Then came the clinker--the essential tie that wove all the streams of thought into a single stream of logical progress. "Yep, cows come in shades and aspirations (his actual word), and you gotta have the right tools to keep 'em (hence, the tractors) with good stuff to feed 'em, kind of like church people, or the gutters don't get cleaned, outside or inside."
Well, there it was--the last thought tied the whole shebang together.
So, Jesus does with his befuddled disciples after they descend the mountain. They were lost, bowled over--Peter still babbling like a brook about tents, picnics, and camp meetings; the others just stunned to silence. What had they just seen? What was that they just heard? Jesus tells them not to mention it until after Easter--then it will come clear.
This last thought is absolutely essential as we seek to practice the faith. As we make our way, a lot of voices will tell us just what Jesus wants, who Jesus was, why we aren't right with Jesus, why we are the ONLY ones right with Jesus, what Jesus would do in the White House, and how to live a life of Jesus in TEN SIMPLE STEPS. We are left confused, befuddled, and lost.
Wait for Easter, Jesus tells us. Then it becomes clear.
Okay--what does Easter tell us?
First, it defines love for us. Jesus loves us. How much? He died to reclaim us from all that keeps us from God and from each other and from our own selves. Christ sacrificed himself, emptying himself to end everything that breaks or destroys us. So, to walk with Christ, become self-emptying and concerned first about the other person with you.
Second, it defines grace for us. Jesus forgave the very people stringing him up. That is grace. That is the way to keep whatever circle we find ourselves within whole and complete. Being right is not so important as being together. Allow for differences. Listen to other points of view. You do not have to accept them--Jesus did not accept the reasoning behind his death as his enemies named it--but we do have to love the person. Listen. Listen, again. Share your experience. Then listen, still again. That is grace.
Third, it defines the power of love. Jesus rose. We could not be rid of him. We could not overcome him. That is wondrous good news. It means that love can win the day, even when everything--i.e., everything--says it is not so. If we live in and through love, all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well. There is hope in all circumstances. Nothing was darker than the 36 hours of Good Friday into Easter dawn. Yet, light shone. Use that. Take that. Keep that.
As we allow Easter to speak, taking Christ's last word to the disciples to heart, we find our way.
And the gutters get cleaned.
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