A few years ago, I read Thich Nhat Hanh’s book No Mud, No Lotus: The Art of Transforming Suffering. Hanh is a Zen Buddhist teacher originally from Vietnam, and he lived in his home country during the Vietnam War. He describes that time as “dark and heavy” making it nearly impossible for anyone to see their way forward. As a teacher, he was frequently asked if he thought the war would end soon. He replied, “‘Everything is impermanent, even war. It will end some day.’”
If someone were to ask you to describe those who have received God’s favor, how might you respond? What are the types of people you imagine? Perhaps those who are well-off, or the ones who are well-spoken. Maybe you conjure up those who have done something for God or given back to humanity. Possibly you’d think of a renowned world leader, or someone who’s worked hard in the medical field. I suspect many of us would include those who’ve done the right thing and have thereby “earned” God’s favor. We would expect that the ones we’ve imagined that God has shown favor to have done something remarkable to deserve it. Chalk it up to that ledger we also believe God has up there in heaven where every good and bad thing we do gets meticulously noted down, and we just hope to have more credits than debits during our lifetimes and earn God’s favor.
A few weeks ago my good friend the Rev. Laura Everett, who is also the executive director of the Massachusetts Council of Churches, wrote an essay about the grapevine in her backyard. She described how much she and her wife looked forward to the harvest this fall, how grateful they were for the heartiness of the Concord grapes, the way 2020 had been bitter and how the produce of that vine would bring solace.
Back in late March, Boston native and actor John Krasinski debuted a Youtube news series titled, “Some Good News.” Shot entirely in his home during the COVID-19 shutdown, Krasinski wanted to only share good news stories with his viewers. The stories shared included a couple getting engaged in front of a chalk drawn Eiffel Tower — they had planned to go to Paris, of course, before flights were shut down—and a 15 year old girl who finished her last chemo infusion and was greeted by hundreds of friends socially distanced in their cars shouting their support. It was a much needed break for us as the numbers of Covid infections and deaths climbed. Back then the US was seeing about 20,000 infections each day and around 500 deaths. This week we’re seeing 175-200,000 infections each day and averaging over 1000 daily deaths. It still seems we need some good news.
Today we mark the beginning of a new Church Year. We light the first of these four Advent candles to mark the Sundays until Dec 25, and we see these weeks as a time to watch and wait for Jesus to be born once more in that stable. Yet instead of our gospel lesson being about the Annunciation of the Angel Gabriel to the maiden Mary—something you might expect as we begin to prepare—we get Jesus teaching Peter, James, John, and Andrew about the end of the world as we know it (h/t to REM). If you studied theology, you’d have learned that religious professionals call this passage Mark’s “Little Apocalypse.” Jesus tells us that at the time the sun will be darkened and the moon will go dim, and stars will be falling out of the sky. Chaos reigns. Of course, we might also just call it another 2020, but I digress.
It’s happening already, a good ten days before Thanksgiving: People are putting up their Christmas trees. When I see the posts online, I comment, “So soon?” or “Already?” or “Thanksgiving? Advent?” I guess I’m just getting curmudgeonly in my new status as a 50 year old.
The kingdom of heaven is as if a man went on a journey, and doled out some money to his servants. One gets five talents, another two, and another one, Jesus says, based on their ability. Now let me pause right here to let you in on the math that Jesus’ first listeners would have at their fingertips. A talent was worth about 15 years of wages. In the US, the average salary is $50,000, so in rough figures we’re talking a talent being about $750,000. So this parable starts really like this: A man went on a journey and gave to his three servants 3.75, 1 and a half, and three quarters of a million bucks, each according to his ability. Jesus’ followers who were primarily working class folks probably would have been really paying attention from this point on. That’s a lot of dough.
Whether I like it or not, I’m in the wedding business. I’ve lost track of how many nuptials I’ve blessed along the way, but I can tell you this with a great deal of certainty: Weddings—like other major life transitions—cause significant stress. The details of pulling off a major event, the beginning of a new chapter in life, the desire for things to be social media perfect. Add in to this mix other potent ingredients, perhaps parents who have divorced and may not be on the best of terms, or a sibling rivalry that rears its ugly head.
Today we reach the end of Moses’ life, but what an end it is! Here’s Moses at the top of Mt. Nebo with a grand view of the entire Promised Land, and God telling him that this was indeed the land promised to Abraham and his descendants. Moses looks on Gilead and Dan and Judah as far as the sea. He could see the Negeb and the Plain out to Zoar. He sees all of it stretched out before him, and for all the people of Israel.
I must admit I knew nothing of the musical “Les Miserables” until I married Melissa—a francophone. Oh, sure, I had seen the posters for it back in the 80s with the young child superimposed on the French flag on them, but that’s it. Melissa and I were in my hometown of Detroit one year for Christmas when “Les Mis” happened to be in town, and so we made plans with some of my family members to see it on New Year’s Eve.