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We Will Be Who We Will Be

Saint Paul's Cathedral, San Diego
March 11, 2007; III Lent, C
Scott Richardson +

We Will Be Who We Will Be

Gracious God,
Let these words be more than words and give us the spirit of Jesus.
Amen.

Let's begin with an interesting and important word from the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church: Theodicy - the strain of theology that seeks to explain and defend our God of love and power in light of evil and suffering. Lots of theories have been proposed over time but, the truth is, no answer ultimately satisfies. The question of the inscrutability of God, especially in the face of suffering, has perplexed us since we first began thinking deep thoughts. We ponder a riddle that stumps us: God is all-loving; God is all-powerful; people suffer. Any two of those assertions can be held in tandem; when the third is added, things fall apart quickly.

Whether you knew it or not just five minutes ago, we're asking questions of theodicy in today's gospel. What about those Galileans whose blood Pilate mingled with pagan sacrifices? Or how about those people standing under the tower when it collapsed? Were they less than righteous? No, Jesus says, but hear this - hardship awaits all who find themselves out of alignment with the way and the will and the wisdom of God. He then continues - not to definitively settle the question but to tell a story that depicts the nurturing patience of God; the barren fig tree tended and coddled and loved by the vinedresser in the expectation of an abundant harvest. Nothing is cast out hastily.

So that's the witness this morning; it's a bit scattered but it's mostly good news. Not all biblical testimony on the question of theodicy is so optimistic. Case in point: the Book of Job. Here's the Cliff Notes version: God and the adversary make a bet in heaven to test Job's faithfulness. Job is struck down in every way that we care about - family, health, and wealth. Friends attempt to comfort him but only add to his woes by offering ignorant explanations. Job demands an audience with God; he's quite surprised when God obliges. But God doesn't step onto the stage to offer mush. Instead, God beats Job down even further by questioning the premise of the conversation: "Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me. Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know!"

Not a happy moment. The point is, God will not be put on the stand. We're not prosecutors and God is not the defendant. My Old Testament professor summarized the Job story in this brief way - "Remember Job, I'm God and you're not." That power play may offend your religious sensibilities at this early hour but it is a fair reading of the text.

And that fair reading brings us to today's first lesson from the Book of Exodus - the burning bush. Moses encounters the Lord, understands that this is the God of his ancestors, receives the promise of liberation, and gets marching orders; he is to confront Pharaoh and demand release. All of this, understandably, unnerves Moses. He asks for reassurance; who shall I say sends me? That simple question invites the great revelation; "I AM WHO I AM", or, an even better translation, "I WILL BE WHO I WILL BE".

The One who sends is the ultimate power. He stands above and apart from all lesser authority. He answers to no one, especially Pharaoh. He claims the right to endlessly live into his identity without explanation or apology. He cannot be defined, limited, or circumscribed. He is God and all are subject to him.

Last weekend, the Chapter (your Board of Directors) went on retreat to reflect on the theme of leadership. One of our sessions presented a videotape of Ed Friedman, the renowned rabbi and therapist. Friedman, now deceased, was persuaded that self-differentiation is the primary characteristic of effective leaders. Strong leaders stand apart from the emotional field surrounding them in order to make wise decisions for the whole body. Weak leaders lose themselves in the oft-times turbulent processes of the systems they're called to lead. When this happens, others (often the least mature) fill the vacuum and take the whole group down into chaos, mayhem, and destruction.

God then, according to this principle, is revealed today as the most differentiated leader in the cosmos - I Will Be Who I Will Be. God stands apart from our judgments and expectations while - and this is key - maintaining close and tender contact. God never submits to containment but never leaves either. That's the biblical model for all leaders and it is especially helpful for those who lead the church today.

Yesterday we held a forum to consider the recent communiqué the Episcopal Church received from the primates of the Anglican Communion. Some leaders in our global communion object to our seemingly unique openness to the spiritual aspirations of the gay and lesbian community. Their concern seems to revolve around two particular issues - the ordination of gay/lesbian bishops and the authorization of rites for the blessing of same-sex unions. They're demanding we cease and desist, and they have set a deadline of 30 September ‘07.

Let's face it - we are inscrutable, at least to some of our neighbors in the communion. Our church has held the issues just named for decades and we've proceeded with great patience, caution, and pastoral concern. Other provinces, however, have never considered the possibility that their gay/lesbian neighbors might have spiritual gifts to offer the church and the world. It is, for them, unimaginable; the source of extreme cognitive dissonance. Due to this, the future of our 75-million member communion hangs suspended.

At yesterday's forum, we reminded one another that the communion has never been in perfect alignment on controversial matters. We're a collection of autonomous bodies with an abiding commitment to a particular way of being Christian. And here's that way: Anglicans look for unity not in common opinion but in common prayer. We're willing, indeed eager, to kneel next to the person with whom we disagree and worship the God of truth, the One who stands apart from, above, and beyond our highest thoughts and most cherished conceptions. We humbly admit that we don't know everything. We acknowledge that the way and the will and the wisdom of God exceed all of us. We endlessly pray for guidance, trusting that the revelation of God will unfold if we remain open to it.

And, having said this, let me now hasten to add another, sharper word. I hope our bishops will paraphrase Yahweh in their response to the primate's demands: We Will Be Who We Will Be. I hope we'll stand apart from the emotional field swirling around us right now lest we risk the destruction of our highest values. We understand that others don't understand us but we believe we've come this far by faith, by a deep reading of scripture, by theological reflection, by unceasing prayer, and by the obvious witness of faithful gay/lesbian Christians in our midst. So We Will Be Who We Will Be - we don't say that defiantly but definitively. We're committed to a path that prefers progress to false peace. If called upon to do so, we may be required by our principles - not by any human entity - to stand apart. Leadership can be lonely but the lack of leadership invites spiritual chaos. In this case, it invites the suffering that comes with institutional bigotry, the evil that leads to rejection and rage, loss and grief. We don't need the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church to explicate that for us - it is already familiar.

But we trust that it won't come to that sinful end. God is faithful. We will not be tested beyond our strength but, with the test, will also be shown the way out. In search of a sign of hope, we return now to the gospel and to the vinedresser, to the One who tends and nurtures and coddles and loves even in the face of disappointing barrenness. He never gives up, never gives in, never despairs. He searches for the minutest speck of love, the tiniest bud that signals life. Nothing is cast out hastily. May we be as patient and as visionary in the days that lie immediately before us.
Amen.

Scott Richardson +
March 11, 2007; III Lent, C

 

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