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bigger picture, humility, James, John, listening, love, Mark, Matthew, prayer, prestigeattention, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trust, wisdom, Zebedee
Today we have an appearance of those two outspoken disciples, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. We first meet them in the gospel of Matthew as they are with their father preparing their nets for fishing. As with all the others who left what they were doing to follow Jesus, one wonders about the reaction in their family. We never meet the father again but their mother shows up in the gospel of Matthew asking for privilege for her sons (MT 20) and today we have Mark’s rendition of that event (MK 10:32-45) where the brothers speak for themselves. It’s a rather shocking passage but maybe understandable if you consider the haughty behavior of their mother recorded elsewhere. Asking Jesus that they be “seated one at your right and one at your left in your glory” is not at all in keeping with the humility expected of the closest followers of Jesus. Even worse is the fact that Mark pairs that conversation with Jesus telling the Twelve what was going to happen to him in Jerusalem – his suffering, death and resurrection.
Maybe James and John weren’t really listening closely or maybe they just skipped over the suffering and death part because it seemed too impossible to consider, but their response held nothing of care for Jesus. It was all about the prestige they were hoping for as his companions.
While we admit that Mark’s is the shortest gospel and that it was written at least 30 to 40 years after the events described, one must wonder at the reasoning behind the juxtaposition of the two scenarios in this one passage. Was it a call for humility, pointed out by bad behavior? A call to attention, perhaps, so that we don’t miss the messages we are being given even in the everyday? Did it really happen as Mark told it, or were the brothers embarrassed by the arrogance of their mother in Matthew’s rendering? Certainly this is all conjecture but it does give one pause.
For me today it’s all about our approach to God in prayer. Awareness of “the bigger picture” of our lives, humility, trust and love ought to guide our desires as we do not speak for ourselves alone but for the good of the whole. Ultimately, wrapping all of our prayer in a mantle of surrender to the wisdom of God will assure what is best for us, even if we can’t see it in the present. And that, it seems, is the only way to live.
It is interesting to me that today’s psalm response from the lectionary is part of 119 – the longest psalm of all in the Bible. Fitting, I thought, after a week away that held so many diverse moments, including childhood memories as well as experiences of new places and events. Commentary says that “each segment of Psalm 119 could be read as a separate voice from individuals praying out of their various perspectives” or “one individual experiencing all the various perspectives that one knows along the path of life.” I’m not sure I have integrated all the impressions, information and feelings of the week as it was so full and far-reaching. One thing I do know is that it provided an opportunity (as most events do if we are awake) for self-reflection and gratitude. Thus, I pray this morning with the psalmist as I return to my blessed “normal” life.
Dawn is breaking. It is 13 degrees Fahrenheit outside and the snow continues to cover the land. The psalmist cries this morning, O Lord, hear my prayer and let my cry come to you. Spring is scheduled to arrive today at 12:15PM EDT – the moment when the sun is directly in line with the equator. “It’s hard to believe,” I say to myself, considering the lack of signs of spring. But then I think of the faith of the psalmist whose trust is in the willingness of God to hear the voice of those in distress. There’s lots of distress in the world today and I am drawn to question the faith quotient of those of us who now send out prayers for better times – myself, I mean.
There is such a strong message in the lectionary readings today of the necessity of trust – and reasons to do so even when our patience is wearing thin. It is the psalm that shakes me awake right at the beginning, declaring: God is our refuge and our strength, an ever present help in distress. Therefore, we fear not, though the earth be shaken and mountains plunge into the depths of the sea. (Ps. 46:2-3)
Sometimes the strangest thoughts bubble up when I’m reading the Scriptures for the day. This year we’re reading Mark and today’s section is the familiar story of the Transfiguration (9:2-10). None of the gospels provides all the details for any story but Mark is especially brief – the first written and shortest gospel. In some cases it’s like reading shorthand. Over the years I’ve become brave enough to try filling in some of the blanks in the stories. I doubt it can hurt; it’s not dogmatic teaching but just conjecture for my own deeper understanding. I think of it as a kind of similar activity to that of movie makers who try to give us pictures to accompany the most visual texts – not always successfully, I might add.
I went to sleep last night in my safe and warm bedroom with images from the internet news of cars and trucks smashing into utility poles and one another on icy roads in South Carolina and Georgia. Weather gone wild has stranded thousands in airports and shelters and the only happy people are the children who are playing in the snow that has closed their schools. It is a trying time in our country – for this and many other reasons.
I got a phone call yesterday from the convener of a group of women that I am scheduled to address on Saturday of this week. She called to tell me that the registration is now up to 39 people! I asked her if someone was paying the women to come since she originally told me that there would probably be about twenty registrants. As we laughed and discussed things like room set-up and schedule, I began to rethink how I might restructure the day so that all the women would have a chance to be heard in such a large gathering. I was happy when the convener began to speak of tables of six because most people are comfortable speaking in a group of that size. I will want to speak in the beginning of the importance of deep listening without judgment as we tend to jump on one another’s thoughts and interrupt each other when our experiences seem to mirror that of the person speaking. In that way we lose something of the sacredness of the exchange. Sporadic moments of silence to remind ourselves will be essential.
Today as I sit in my chair waiting for light to come I have a sense of urgency because there is a lot to achieve before my head hits the pillow again, so to speak. The days are getting shorter now. I was dismayed to know that when my alarm woke me a while ago it wasn’t a mistake. It was 6:30 and still dark outside. And yesterday we needed lights on in our living room by 6:00PM. I wonder why I was so astonished; the solstice was almost two weeks ago! I guess it is true that the older I get, the faster time seems to go.
Today our Church remembers Mary under the title of “Our Lady of Sorrows.” There are many feasts in our Church calendar honoring Mary but, this year especially, I find this one particularly poignant as images arise of present-day mothers. I see Syrian refugee mothers cradling their hungry and frightened toddlers, then a mother reaching out of a helicopter to fetch her child from the basket that has saved her little one as it saved her from the swirling waters of Hurricane Harvey, then a young mother at the side of her ten-year old child’s hospital bed, then a would-be mother mourning her miscarriage…
This morning, pondering a meeting I attended yesterday of the Long-Range Planning Board of my religious community and a subsequent conversation with one of our “younger members” I was reminded of a valuable quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a theologian and paleontologist who had much to say about the universe and its workings, including those of humans who seem always in a hurry to get things done. It is always good for me to return to his wise advice. I share it today in hopes that we might draw from it some consolation in our troubled times.