Proper 25, Year B (RCL) sermon

[Psalm 126]
[Jeremiah 31:7-9]

“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,
Then we were like those who dream.
Our mouth was filled with laughter,
and our tongue with shouts of joy!”

It had finally happened!

The Jewish Exiles in Babylon had been dreaming about it for more than a generation, and it had finally happened.

Prophets like Jeremiah and Ezekiel had given them oracles of a time when they might return to the Holy Land, a vision of renewal that had given them hope as captives in a strange country: and it had finally happened.

The exile was over. Israel could go home.

Today’s psalm, Psalm 126, is a celebration of the Return from Exile. The Hebrew of the first line has a double-meaning, and can also mean:
“When the Lord restored the captives of Zion,
Then we were like those who dream.”
The Return of the Jewish Exiles, held captive as a marginalized minority in Babylon for over a generation, must have indeed seemed like a dream come true! The visions of hope and restoration they had treasured all throughout their Exile were coming true! It seemed as if the joyous promises found in Isaiah 40-55, in Ezekiel, and in today’s reading from Jeremiah were unfolding before their very eyes! Why, the prophesies seemed to leap off the page (or, more accurately, the scroll) and take flesh! It was as if they had woken from a wonderful dream only to find it was real.

Listen to their wild, shocked joy— the surprised laughter bubbling up out of the psalm. Imagine those exile’s joyful disbelief at their own good fortune—or, I should say, at God’s good blessing. It is the kind of happiness that makes them leap for joy, break out into spontaneous songs of happiness. It makes them, as Jeremiah puts it,
“Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob,
and raise shouts for the chiefs of the nations!”

The Lord has done great things for us, the returning captives cry in the words of the Psalm, and we are glad indeed.

Then, halfway through the psalm, something shifts. Look at what happens in verse 5. Now, in the present, things again seem in need of restoration and renewal. Verse 5 ("Restore our fortunes, O Lord") echoes the first verse ("When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion"). This repetition suggests that, although God has done great things for them, the people again find themselves in need of help and refreshment, and cry out to God. They are saying to God: You did this before, and you can do it again!
1) The Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,
2) O Lord, restore our fortunes now.
In effect, they are raising a round of applause for what God has already done, and calling out for an encore. Bravo! they say. We want more!

Both of the Old Testament readings today contrast amazement and wonder with sorrow. Why this juxtaposition of tears with laughter, joy with weeping?

This makes a lot of sense in when you consider of the historical circumstances of the Return. It was the difficult trek of a victimized, displaced people. Perhaps some this crying is tears of joy, at the almost bittersweet sting of feeling hope after having been without hope for so long—sort of like the pain in a limb after it has has fallen asleep, when the blood returns. But perhaps also, these are tears of real sadness. This great crowd is still reeling from the experience of the humiliation of exile. This isn’t an army of able-bodied strong young men; it is a “great company,” among their number the blind and those in labor, those who are weak, or old, or vulnerable, the unlikely, the struggling.

Returning to the promised land,
all will feel the sting of uncertainty:
After being marginal, powerless, an exiled minority in a strange land,
they will have to stand on their own two feet.
Can they do it?
Will they make it?

Once the exiled Jews returned to Jerusalem, there were other difficulties. The city walls were rubble, God’s Temple had been razed to the ground, and much of the city lay in ruins. The Biblical books of Ezra and Nehemiah tell the story of the hard times those returning faced: struggles to rebuild what had been destroyed, to struggles recapture something of their past, and redefine their identity to take into the new realities.

Return, renewal, and rebirth are hard. The exuberant exhilaration of the initial experience of return may fade into a realization that things are still not all perfect, that there is still unanswered suffering and difficulty. Perhaps the optimistic sensation of being swept along effortlessly towards a perfect future is fading, slowly becoming replaced by a sense of doubt as the ruins do not sit up and rebuild themselves, as the economy takes more time than anticipated recovering, as the fields continue to require hard work and be subject to the same droughts and vicissitudes as all ancient agriculture.

But past experience of God's power fuels the present hope of God's renewal. As the people were formerly swept away with a dream-like sense of wonder that caused spontaneous laughter to well up in their mouths, they pray that God would again send a torrent of life-giving water into their lives. They pray,
“Restore our fortunes, O Lord,
Like the watercourses of the Negeb.”
The stream-beds of the Negeb are, like the ruts and arroyos in Santa Fe where I went to college, usually dry, dusty cuts in the ground. However, the seasonal rains can be transform these channels of dust into raging, rushing torrents. The dryness of the present is not the last word; God's aid can gush into the watercourses of our lives and sweep us off our feet again, as it has done in the past. Today's tears yield to future joys.

So, Psalmist looks honestly into the face of today's hardships. There are tears to be sown today, perhaps, or a sense dryness, or weeping at our labor. To admit that is not to somehow betray the renewal that God has already worked among us, or be untrue to it, or erase it. To hold up today's difficulties honestly next to the memory of God's past help is to invite God's further help. It is to face today honestly and with hope. As the returning Exiles experienced their restoration as a mixed blessing, with hardship as well as joy, the Psalm invites us to face our lives honestly, to lift up whatever we really feel before God: laughter and Songs of Joy when we are joyful, cries of supplication when are in need. The Psalm teaches us to applaud the wonderful, joyful renewal God has worked in our lives already, and to cry for a repeat performance, an encore, when we are in need.

You may have noticed I’ve shifted to the present tense.
This is not entirely accidental.

Here at St. John’s, I’ve caught a glimpse of the kind of joy the Psalm addresses, something like the joy of the Return after Exile. In the past few years, this parish has grown back from an average Sunday attendance of twelve to what we see today. Sometimes, there is an almost physical sense of energy and excitement in the air, a sense that God is doing things here, that almost makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. St. John’s seems to be going somewhere, doing something, growing in discipleship and mission. It seems to be redefining itself, attempting to respect its past and the heritage of its traditions while asking how it might reach out to this neighborhood in new ways. New things are being tried. New leaders are taking on new roles. What an amazing thing! From a relative newcomer’s point of view, I have to say that I am amazed at the life and vitality I’ve seen flowing here, like waters turning a dry creekbed in dusty Santa Fe into a torrent.

I want to share with you what I’ve heard from others. As I attend other Episcopal functions around the Diocese, others are saying about St. John’s what the nations say in the psalm: “The Lord has done great things for them.”

However, there are struggles and difficulties in the life of any growing parish as well. Not every new thing that we try may work, or may not reap a harvest we can see right away. This is fine—as Jesus teaches us, we merely plant the seeds, and God gives the growth—but it may be hard on us. We sometimes experience sorrow over our own and each others’ setbacks. Some of us may struggle with experience of being unemployed. Some of us have family members who are gravely ill, or struggle with our own illnesses.

The gift that this week’s Psalm, and Jeremiah reading give us, is the honesty that there can still be difficulty and pain in the midst of blessing—and that we are not being unfaithful to face that. Admitting our own tears, owning up to our own need or doubt at times, does not mean that we are unaware of how God has led us thus far. It does not mean we do not have confidence in where our Lord is leading us. In fact, as Psalm 26 teaches, it is precisely because God has restored our fortunes in the past that we can boldly applaud him and cheer for a repeat performance, a standing ovation to our Lord.

The Lord has done great things for us,
And we say: O Lord: Bravo! Encore!

Proper 25 Year B (RCL) Psalm 126 notes

[Psalm 126]

--> Post-Exilic?
- v. 1: "restored the fortunes" (NRSV) might also read "brought back the captives" (as in NIV); so with v. 4.
- This psalm seems to be a song of joy and amazement at the Return from Exile.

-->Seeming tension b/n vv. 1-3 & 4-6:

1-3 joyful song: the Lord has already restored our captives/fortunes
4-6 supplication looking forward to how the Lord will restore our captives/fortunes in the future

(some disagreement over how to translate the verbs in 1-3; see JPS TNK translation, which renders the entire psalm in future tense)

--> tension b/n past & present; joy & weeping
-God has done (or will do?) a wondrous, joyful thing
-But there is still weeping and "sowing with tears" now
From the NIB vol. IV; Psalm commentary by J. Clinton McCann, Jr.:

Historically speaking, the tension between vv. 1-3 and 4-6 makes very good sense in the post-exilic era... This glorious pilgrimage ran up against hard historical realities. The vision of Isaiah 40-55 did not materialize, and soon the disillusioned people found themselves again in need of restoration (see the books of Ezra; Nehemiah; Haggai; and Zechariah)... It is easy to imagine how the return of the captives from Babylon would have been like a dream come true (v. 1b).

Now, in the present, things again seem in need of restoration and renewal. Verse 4a ("Restore our fortunes, O Lord") echoes verse 1a ("When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion"); this echo both contrasts the present need with God's past deed, and suggests that hope for the present can be found in memory of what God has already done.

Return, renewal, and rebirth are hard. The exuberant exhilaration of the initial experience of return may fade into a realization that things are still not all perfect, that there is still unanswered suffering and difficulty. Perhaps the optimistic sensation that the returning exiles were being swept along effortlessly towards a perfect future is fading, slowly becoming replaced by a sense of doubt and despair as the ruins do not sit up and rebuild themselves, as the economy takes more time than they anticipated recovering, as the fields continue to require hard work and be subject to the same vagaries of drought and harvest-yield as all ancient agriculture.

But past experience of God's power fuels the present hope of God's renewal. As the people were formerly swept away with a dream-like sense of wonder that caused spontaneous laughter to well up in their mouths, they pray that God would again send a torrent of life-giving water into their lives. The stream-beds of the Negeb are, like the ruts and arroyos in Santa Fe where I went to college, usually dry, dusty beds, but with the few seasonal rains can be transformed into raging, rushing torrents. The dryness of the present is not the last word; God's aid can gush into the watercourses of our lives and sweep us off our feet again, as it has done in the past. Today's tears can yield to future joys.

But in the meantime, the Psalmist looks honestly into the face of today's hardships. There are tears to be sown today, perhaps, or a sense dryness, or weeping at our labor. To admit that is not to somehow betray the renewal that God has already worked among us, or be untrue to it, or erase it. To hold up today's difficulties honestly next to the memory of God's past help is to invite God's further help. It is to face today honestly and with hope. As the returning Exiles experienced their restoration as a mixed blessing, with hardship as well as joy, the Psalm invites us to face our lives honestly, to lift up whatever we really feel before God: laughter and Songs of Joy when we are joyful, cries of supplication when are in need.

God who restored our fortunes yesterday will continue to restore them tomorrow. Alleluia!

Proper 25, Year B (RCL) Jeremiah notes

[Jeremiah 31:7-9]

--> Part of the 'Book of Consolation' or 'Book of Comfort'
- a note of hope in Jeremiah; promises of restoration

- This passage concerns the promise of the return of the Exiles back to the Promised Land.

- Psalmic language (compare today's Psalm 126)

--> God's concern and care
- Pastoral metaphor: God as shepherd (vv. 8a, 9b)
- Parental metaphor: God as Father (vv. 9c)

God's concern for God's people is for all of them, not just the strong and whole. This is not an army march of the most able-bodied young persons, but also

"Among them will be the blind and the lame,
expectant mothers and women in labor;
a great throng will return." (NIV)

God's concern is also for (or even especially for) those who are might be the most vulnerable during such a trip back to Judah.

Those returning are weak, potentially vulnerable, or in need of guidance. They are, however, a "great throng." Their great numbers, seen in light of their need for guidance and care, make them more like a flock following a shepherd than an army following a general.

--> Joy and weeping

- the oracle opens with a note of joy:

"Sing aloud with gladness (or with 'joy,' NIV) for Jacob,
and raise shouts for the chief of the nations;
proclaim, give praise..."

- the oracle continues with a note of sadness:

"With weeping they shall come,
and with consolation (or 'supplication') I will lead them back."

Perhaps this weeping is tears of joy, at the almost bittersweet sting of feeling joy after having been without hope for so long.

But perhaps also, these are tears of real sadness. This great crowd is still reeling from the experience of the pain and humiliation of exile. Some among them are weak, or blind, or with child, or even in the midst of labor. The return from exile is not some sort of God-sponsored "survival of the fittest," in which only the strong make it home. No, God guides and leads this "great company" as a shepherd leads his flock, "by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble."

--> A Vision of Consolation
- The "Book of Consolation/Comfort" in Jeremiah offered the exiles a vision of hope, an image of a restored Jerusalem, a new Zion which will enjoy an even closer relationship with God than it did of old.
- People will again bless the "abode of righteousness, the holy hill" of Jerusalem (31:23); after their experience of having been torn from their roots, God will "sow the house of Israel and the house of Judah with the seed of humans and the seed of animals... [and] watch over them to build and plant" rather than to pluck up (31:28). And God will "make a new covenant with the house of Israel," (31:31), a new covenant which will be written on the very hearts of the people (31:33) so that they will not have to teach each other about the Lord, "for they all shall know me, from the least to the greatest"(31:34).
- What a promise of fidelity and intimate communion with God! God promises that only if his fixed order of Sun and Moon should cease, only if the very heavens could be measured, would he reject beloved Israel (31:36-37).
- The city shall be rebuilt, with even greater boundaries than before ("the measuring line shall go out farther"); even areas which were formerly desolate gravesites shall become part of the rebuilt city (31:38-40).

--> Hope and Honesty

Even while offering a vision of hope,
even in the very midst of an oracle of restoration,
God is deals honestly with the pain that the people are experiencing.

Returning to the promised land,
some of them will be homesick for Babylon:
even the land of exile becomes home after generations!
Some of them will be leaving behind loved ones,
friends, their own family members.

Returning to the promised land,
some will have a harder time of the journey than others:
among their number the blind and those in labor,
those who are weak, or old, or vulnerable,
the unlikely, the struggling.

Returning to the promised land,
all will feel the sting of uncertainty:
From the certainty of helplessness in Babylon,
from certainty of their own powerlessness--
The return is a rebirth,
as frightening and painful as first birth.
After knowing only their own helplessness,
they will have to get by for themselves.
After being marginal, powerless, an exiled minority in a strange land,
they will have to stand on their own two feet.

This oracle deals with the tears,
as well as the spontaneous laughter and shouts of joy.
Through it all, God will be there.
God will laugh with their songs of joy.
God will console when they weep.
God will hear their supplications and cries,
will lead them when they feel lost,
will support them when they stumble.

Proper 25 Year B (RCL) Gospel notes

[Mark 10:46-52]

- Last miracle before Jesus reaches Jerusalem

- not a faceless, nameless person in need of healing:
We are told not only his name but his father's name (although Bartimaeus would mean, quite literally, "Son of Timaeus"-- so is it his proper name, like being named "Junior," or just that we are told his father's name?) Augustine of Hippo speculated that, as the only recipient of healing whose name and father's name we are told, Bartimaeus must have at one point have been an important/rich personage, before he became blind.

Bartimaeus' faith is insistent and persistent, calling out twice (the second time "even more loudly") despite the attempts of the crowds to hush him. This is faith that refuses to be cowed by resistence.

"Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" This is a spontaneous version or variant of the "Jesus Prayer" so important in Orthodox practice. This very ancient prayer is considered one of the most profound prayers in Eastern Christianity. In its shortest form, it reads:
"Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."
Its shortest form would be simply: "Jesus, have mercy."
The blind man's cry for mercy echoes down the centuries of Christian practice and piety to this very day. This most simple prayer, the acknowledgement of our need for mercy, and Jesus' ability to grant it, is the core or kernel of our salvation.

- "Jesus stood still"
Mark's Jesus is constantly driven, busy, moving, never able to catch his breath but hurried by the driving pace of the Mark's narrative from place to place, from this miracle story to the next. (For instance, consider the beginning of this very pericope. "Jesus arrives at Jericho; ...and as Jesus was leaving Jericho...") It is interesting that in the midst of Jesus' very busy itenerary of healings and exorcisms, all of which are hurtling him at a rapid pace towards Jerusalem, he pauses to stand still and listen to the cry of Bartimaeus.
Also, we have the sense that this crowd has great energy and noise. They seem swept up with Jesus in his progress towards Jerusalem, caught up in the action and excitement and Messianic fervor which will reach their crescendo on Palm Sunday. In this middle of this bustling, noisy crowd, some are trying to quiet those who seem on the fringes, crying out to Jesus. They are going somewhere-- they are headed towards Jerusalem-- and the man they are following has better things to do, they think, than be distracted by a blind beggar. In the midst of this noisy, boistrous, energetic crowd, Jesus takes the time to stand still.
Jesus is, to use Systems Theory language, the "nonanxious presence" in the midst of all this hubbub. He has the grace and the presence of mind not to get swept up in all of the excitement and arguments which have coalesced around him, but to stand still and have the crowds call Bartimaeus to him.

- "Take heart; get up, he is calling you."
The very same crowd which was trying to silence Bartimaeus is told to call him to Jesus. Some among the crowd had taken it upon themselves to act as the gatekeepers to Jesus, the boundary-guardians, the bouncers who would keep the riff-raff away. Jesus turns those who would drive people away into those who welcome. He makes the very same people who wanted to exclude into the agents of inclusion.
- I am reminded of the parable of the Good Samaritan. Like the priest and the Levite who hurried past the wounded man on the street on their way to more important things, the crowds want to keep the interruption of Bartimaeus' cry from Jesus, to hurry on to more important things in Jerusalem. By forcing them to stop and take the time to bring Bart to him, Jesus is in effect keeping the crowd from playing the part of those hurried figures in that parable, inviting them instead to play the part of the Good Samaritan to stopped to help.
- Amazingly, the crowd's passions turn on a dime. At this point, they turn to Bartimaeus excitedly and say, "Take heart, get up, he is calling you." What an empathetic invitation from the same crowd that shushed him moments before! It is as if, having realized that their teacher considered

- Unlike most of Jesus' miracles in Mark, there is no "Messianic secret," no exhortation to the one healed/exorcised to not to say anything about Jesus afterwards. As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, the time for secrecy is past, and his ministry is becomeing more and more public. Now that his time is coming, Jesus no longer commands silence.
- Ironically, it is as if the crowds are continuing to keep the Messianic Secret anyway. The crowds try to keep Jesus under wraps, secret, protected, insular. They want to close the way off to Jesus, to keep others from learning more about the one they are following. Instead, Jesus insists that they bring the man right to him.

Proper 24, Year B (BCP) Sermon

[Hebrews 4:12-13]

Proper 24 Year B (BCP) Sermon
St. Matthew’s, Mexico, Missouri
10-22-06

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Did any of you here see the movie “Saved” that came out a few years ago? [Pause] “Saved” was in theatres about five years ago, just as I was beginning seminary. It’s about a handful of students at an Evangelical high school, and gently pokes fun at the kind of trouble we get into when we think we know exactly what God wants us to do with our lives—that is, when we think we have pinned down exactly the word of God.

There’s this one great scene where a group of popular girls—(and at this Christian school, most “popular” also means most “blessed”)—decides that their friend Malone is acting so out of line that she must be possessed by a demon. In an operation that would have done the A Team or Charlie’s Angels proud, they whisk their her away into a moving van. They then attempt to perform an impromptu exorcism on her. Well, she struggles her way out of the vehicle and stalks off, accusing them of having no idea what Jesus is like. Infuriated, the ringleader of the popular girls hurls her Bible at Malone’s back, screaming, “I am FILLED with Christ’s love!” Malone picks up Bible and waves it at the other girl, and yells, “This isn’t a weapon!”

In today’s epistle reading from Hebrews, we read, “The Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword.” But the author is quick to explain that the Word is not like a sword in that we can use it as a weapon, to attack others: it is like a sword for its ability to penetrate our own hearts, to cut us to the very quick. To quote: “The word of God is sharper than any two edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”

As we read and hear the Bible, we encounter the Word of God which is “active and lively,” which is “sharper than any two-edged sword.” Who hasn’t felt the sharpness, the sting, of the challenges we encounter in the Bible? The Word of God is hard and difficult at times.

Sometimes it seems to be asking more than we think we can give. For instance, last week’s Gospel reading challenged the rich young man—and implicitly, us—to leave our “many possessions” to better follow Christ. We are tempted to ask, as the disciples did, “Then who can be saved?” We're not sure we can do it. The Word of God seems to penetrate us like a scalpel, cutting “joints from marrow,” asking us to cut off the “spiritual fat” from our bodies:
to slice off our sins,
our wealth,
whatever may be keeping us from following Christ.

At other times, the Word of God seems sharp in a different way. We are confused and perplexed by seeming inconsistencies. Am I to leave house and family, to give away all my possessions to the poor, as last week’s Gospel seems to suggest? What about the passage in Matthew’s Gospel where Jesus condemns the Pharisees for allowing children to give all their money to the Temple, thus forgetting the support they owe their parents? Or, should we “hold all things in common,” practicing the sort of primitive communism or communal sharing that the early Church practiced in Acts? The Word of God seems to be prompting us to do something about our wealth, but the Word of God doesn’t seem to hold still. It is lively and active, slippery, almost. It writhes and moves and shifts under our very grasp. Like a double edged sword, we try to grasp it only to find that we have grabbed the blade. Facing the fact of not always knowing exactly what God wants of us in every situation, we can understand what the author of Hebrews says: “The Word pierces until it divides soul from spirit.” We are divided within ourselves, hesitant, unsure.

I cannot deny the claim that the Word has upon me, but I cannot pin it down. It is larger than me. I encounter this Word in scripture and stand convicted before it. To put it one way: the Word judges me, I don’t judge the Word. I can only do my best to puzzle through the wonderful challenges that I encounter there, the living God who will not be pinned down by definitions or be put into a box. Each of us must work through our salvation in fear and trembling. As we do, God’s Word enters our conscience and weighs our efforts. As the letter to the Hebrew puts it: “It is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”

I am continually amazed at how, if I read scripture faithfully every day, God’s word seems to challenge and speak to me personally. Through this collection of writings set down half a world away and thousands of years ago, God’s Word speaks freshly.

Thank God for the liveliness,
the freshness,
the unpredictability,
the surprise of the Word of God!
Thank God that his Word is so active and uncontrollable that it can speak anew in each new place.

But, if all this is true, we'd better be careful about thinking we’ve got it all figured out, that we having the Bible definitively interpreted for all time. God’s Word is too slippery and awesome a thing for that. It is still speaking in new ways, right now, to each one of us in different ways, to our sisters and brothers in the pews around us, to believers in our own country and to believers in cultures very different from ours.

So this passage warns us from thinking we’ve got the Word so pinned down that we can use it as a weapon against someone else. If I think I have the Scripture so figured out that I can use it to attack my fellow believer, I am probably not listening to the Word at all, but to my own idea of it—to a Bible-shaped idol.

Remember, we are not told to judge each other in this passage: quite the opposite. We read: “Before the Word no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.” I am told to concentrate more on the account I will have to make before God, to live as best I can according to my conscience and my understanding-- which that Word can see right through. I cannot know, unless we talk about it, the unique challenges and promptings that the Word has whispered in your heart. I cannot know, unless you tell me, how you are struggling to be accountable to God, how you are trying to be faithful to the Bible.

But I know one thing:
This [hold up Bible] is not a weapon.

Proper 23, Year B (BCP) sermon

BECOMING GOD’S HOUSE, ONE BRICK AT A TIME

[Amos 5:6-7,10-15]
[Hebrews 3:1-6]
[Mark 10:17-27(28-31)]
http://www.io.com/~kellywp/YearB/Pentecost/BProp23.html

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Good morning. I’m pleased to have the chance to come and worship with you again this Sunday morning. For those of you who didn’t meet me on my previous visit, I’m Andrew Benko, and this is my second chance to come to All Saints, Farmington, to come to church with you. Or perhaps I should say, “to come be church with you,” rather than “come to church with you”—because it’s really we who are church, not this or that building. If these walls and this roof, and all the beautiful windows all around us should disappear, all of us gathered here would still be church.

This week’s readings have got me thinking about houses. All of these readings mention houses in some way or another: how they are built, how to be faithful within them or as a part of them, how to leave or find them. We hear about the “houses of hewn stone” in Amos; Moses and Jesus’ different role in the “House of God” in Hebrews; and Jesus promise that those who leave house or household to for the sake of the Gospel will receive a hundredfold what they have left—houses and household and fields.

And as we gather here together to hear and reflect on these readings, we are not just in the House of God. As the author of Hebrews tells us, we are the House of God.

So, let’s take a closer look at the image of “house” that we find in these three readings:

In the reading from Amos, we hear the God condemn those who have built for themselves fine houses – “Houses of hewn stone” – by the oppression of others. The prophet says, “Therefore, because you trample on the poor and take from them levies of grain, you have built houses of hewn stone, but you shall not live in them.” This is what’s called a futility curse: saying ‘you have done so-and-so, but you won’t enjoy the fruits of it.’ In this case, God tells those who have built up fine mansions for themselves by defrauding the poor won’t get to enjoy their expensive dwellings for long. This isn’t the kind of building God wants us spend our energy on.

In the next reading, we see Hebrews' characteristic rhetoric of one-upsmanship in play: As usual, Jesus is somehow more-than or greater-than the old dispensation or figure. (This sort of argument runs through the entire letter to the Hebrews.)

- Moses was faithful in all of God's house as a servant
- but Jesus was faithful over God's house as a son

A servant or seneschal is faithful by executing the will of the householder-- by following orders. Moses was faithful in this way, following the commands given by God "to testify to the things that would be spoken later." So, like a good servant, Moses did as his master ordered.

But the author tells us that we are not just servants in the House of God—we are the House of God! We are called not just to build up or take care of this House—we are called to be it!

How is a house faithful? Perhaps just by standing firm, by being a good, structurally-sound house. A good house doesn’t crumble or fall down; it is well-made and unshakeable. The author tells us that "we are God's house if we hold firm to the confidence and the pride that belong to hope." A friend of mine, somewhat more knowledgeable of Greek than I, tells me that this could read: "if we hold firm the boldness and boasting that belong to hope." That is, if we are not prideful in ourselves, but boast in the hope that we have-- in God. If we are all bricks in this house, our confidence/hope in God is the mortar that glues us together into the House of God.

Do you see how exciting, and how challenging, this call is? If we are ourselves the House of God, it matters very much what kind of people we are. Our sins and failings aren’t just a private matter between us and God—they are broken windows, leaky roofs, missing bricks, and graffiti on the House of God. Now, none of us would dare throw a brick through the stain-glassed windows, or spraypaint obscenities on the walls of All Saints. But no matter how we may decorate the sanctuary with flowers or polish the altar silver, if we are not good bricks, the House of God is a pretty shabby place.

In today’s Gospel reading, the rich young man asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Now, this man has been a pious, observant Jew all his life. We learn that he has kept all the commandments that Jesus lists from the Torah from his childhood. The Gospel says that Jesus looks at him and “loves him.”

Maybe that’s all this man really wants. Perhaps the man just wants affirmation. After all, he's kept the law. Shouldn't Jesus just tell him, "Well, it looks like you've got eternal life pretty much in hand; keep it up." Instead he gets a challenge.

It’s a pretty universal, human desire: we all want the approval of those we love and admire. We all want to hear those words, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." We want to know we've pleased God. Just like a child wants praise from its parents, like a dog wants a pat on the head from its owner, we want to know God is happy with us.

But be careful what you ask for:
If you ask God, "aren't I a good boy (or girl)?"
You may just receive a challenge:
"You're off to a good start,
but here's what you need to change."

Maybe, with this teaching, Jesus helps illustrate how "no one is good but God alone." This young man certainly is on the way to "good-ness" -- he keeps the commandments Jesus mentions, and he clearly wants to be good-- but he falls short. There is a certain point in his growth towards goodness which he cannot get past, at least not without God's help.

For this young man, the thing holding him back most dramatically from following God is his wealth. This isn’t just about psychology: It’s not just that the man is “overly attached” to his money, that it is his “special sin.” Remember, in the Amos reading, God is concerned not about how wealth is “morally corrosive” to the wealthy, but how wealth is unjust because it exists side-by-side with poverty. I think sometimes we read this passage as if it need not apply to us, as if we need not listen to Jesus’ words to the young man. It is as if we are eavesdropping on a matter that does not concern us. But the Gospels are for us, now, today, here. Even the relatively poor, those who are struggling to get by in the United States, average among the top 3% of income of the world.

*****HERE'S A LITTLE GEM FROM THE SHEPHERD OF HERMAS,
an early Christian work. In a vision, Hermas is shown a great tower being built by angels, representing the Church. (See above for the Hebrews reading, also using the image of us being built into God's House.) Hermas asks his guide:************************ ************
“But who are these, Lady, that are white and round, and yet do not fit into the building of the tower?” She answered and said “How long will you be foolish and stupid, and continue every kind of question and understand nothing? These are those who have faith indeed, but they also have the riches of the world. When, therefore, tribulation comes, on account of their riches and business they deny the Lord.” I answered and said to her, “When, then, will they be useful to the building, Lady?” “When the riches that now seduce them have been circumscribed, then they will be of use to God. For as a round stone cannot become square unless portions are cut off and cast away, so also those who are rich cannot be useful to the Lord unless their riches be cut down.”*****************************************

You see, as the living bricks and walls and supports of God’s House, it’s not just enough to be “pretty good;” we need to be actually good—The kind of Good that only God is. If that sounds hard, remember that Jesus tells his disciples in another place: “Therefor be perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect.” Let’s dwell on the difficulty of this charge for a moment. “Be perfect.” That’s truly and actually perfect, God-like perfect.

It’s as if we’re camels who have been told to squeeze through the eye of a needle. Even if we manage to get rid of that hump, how can we ever fit?

Sounds impossible, right? Well, it is, in a way: “For human beings, it is impossible, but not for God: For God, all things are possible.”

That’s where I want to leave us this morning: hearing clearly the loving challenge, the invitation, of God, to put down our wealth, our sin, and our brokenness, and be the House of God.

This challenge isn’t just difficult, it’s exciting: God desires us for his Holy Habitation. God loves us, as Jesus loved the young man, even in our lack, and invites us to be the very House of God.

What an amazing thing.

On Giving Things Up

Some of the themes I'm thinking about, based on this Sunday's Gospel, resonate with my reflection on last Thursday's reading from Hosea.

Proper 23, Year B (RCL) notes

***********************************************************
[Amos 5:6-7,10-15]
http://www.io.com/~kellywp/YearB/Pentecost/BProp23.html
***********************************************************

Some themes & motifs:
1) "gate" image
2) "seeking"
3) Futility Curses on the unrighteous
4) persecution of the righteous

--> "GATE" IMAGE
1) "They hate the one who reproves in the gate, and they abhor the one who speaks the truth"
2) "...You who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe, and push aside the needy in the gate"
3) "Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate"
- the "gate" of a city is an important public place in the OT
- public, social, gathering place, assembly-place
- in this passage: where justice will either be done or foiled
- where truth will be spoken, or truthtellers shunned
- as a public place, this is about the moral well-being of the whole city, the justice or injustice of the whole society: the "gate" is the open battlefield for the soul of the culture

--> SEEKING
- Parallelism:
- Seek the Lord & live.
- Seek good and not evil, that you may live,
- ...and the Lord will be with you.
- To seek Good is to seek God, and vice-versa.
- What do we want to go after? God, or Mammon?

--> FUTILITY CURSES
on those who seek wealth through injustice:
- built stone houses/ not live in them
- plant vineyards/ not drink their wine

--> PERSECUTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS
This passage speaks of how the unrighteous who "turn justice to wormwood" also "bring righteousness to the ground." This is in terms not only of their own misdeeds, but how they persecute those who are themselves righteous: they "hate the one who reproves... and the one who speaks the truth."
- "Therefore the prudent will keep silent in such a time; for it is an evil time."
- This verse warns that truth-telling, that godly reproof, will bring disapproval and persecution upon the righteous in a culture that does not want to know its own sin!
- Then again, we are to "Hate evil and love good, and establish justice at the gate." How can we establish justice if we are silent in the face of injustice? And the "gate" has already been established as the place where godly reproof will be given, where truth will be spoken. Perhaps it is better for us to be good than "prudent." However, let us not have any illusions: there will be resistance. There will be push-back. Those who do not want to hear the truth will not necessarily "play nice" when we tell it like it is.

***********************************************************
[Hebrews 3:1-6]
http://www.io.com/~kellywp/YearB/Pentecost/BProp23.html
***********************************************************

Here we see Hebrews' characteristic rhetoric of one-upsmanship in play:
As usual, Jesus is somehow more-than or greater-than the old dispensation or figure. This sort of rhetoric runs through the entire letter to the Hebrews.

- Moses was faithful in all of God's house as a servant
- Jesus was faithful over God's house as a son

Similarly, Jesus is more worthy of glory than Moses by way of this analogy:
-> Jesus:Moses
-> Builder:What-is-Built

Both comparisons convey that Jesus is greater,
and both use the image of a house,
but the two give Moses a slightly different "role" in the metaphor of the house:
1) Moses is like a servant set over a household, a seneschal.
2) Moses is like the house itself.
2a) Alternatively, the People of God is the house. Moses (as the one who gave the Law to Israel) could stand for all of Israel.

A servant or seneschal is faithful by executing the will of the householder-- by following orders. Moses was faithful in this way, following the commands given by God "to testify to the things that would be spoken later."

How is a house faithful? Perhaps just by standing firm, by being a good, structurally-sound house. The author tells us that "we are God's house if we hold firm to the confidence and the pride that belong to hope." A friend of mine, somewhat more adroit with Greek than I, tells me that this could read: "if we hold firm the boldness and boasting that belong to hope." That is, we are not prideful in ourselves, but boast in the hope that we have-- in God. If we are all bricks in this house, our confidence/hope in God is the mortar that glues us together into the House of God.

***********************************************************
[Mark 10:17-24(28-31)]
http://www.io.com/~kellywp/YearB/Pentecost/BProp23.html
***********************************************************

I wonder if "Good teacher" doesn't evidence a certain desire on the part of the man to please Jesus, to be accepted. It sort of sounds like "teacher's pet" language. He seems to want Jesus to approve of him.

It's sort of unusual to describe "wealth" as a "lack!"

Jesus looks on the young man who has kept the commandments since his youth and loves him.
1- Jesus loves him even while he "lacks" something.
2- Although he is not "perfect" in his faith yet, this man is pretty good, modelling his life after the Law.
3- Let us remember to hear the echo of Jesus' love in the command that follows it. Jesus is not sternly rebuking the man, chastising him like a bad child. He loves him. This is a loving invitation.

Maybe, with this teaching, Jesus helps illustrate how "no one is good but God alone." This young man certainly is on the way to "good-ness" -- he keeps the commandments Jesus mentions, and he clearly wants to be good-- but he falls short. There is a certain point in his growth towards goodness which he cannot get past, at least not without God's help.

In 1st-century Palestine, wealth would be interpretted by many Jews as a sign of God's favor. So, Jesus' describing the man's possessions as a "lack" -- as an obstacle to be overcome as he further enters into God's favor-- is surprising.

Maybe the man just wants affirmation; we all want the approval of those we love and admire. We all want to hear those words, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." We want to know we've pleased God. Just like a child wants praise from its parents, like a dog wants a pat on the head from its owner, we want to know God is happy with us.

So, maybe the man just wants affirmation. After all, he's kept the law. Shouldn't Jesus just tell him, "Well, it looks like you've got eternal life pretty much in hand; keep it up." Instead he gets a challenge.

Be careful what you ask for:
If you ask God, "aren't I a good boy (or girl)?"
You may just receive a challenge:
"You're off to a good start,
but here's what you need to change."

What is holding us back? What is it that, no matter how "good" we are or how far we've come in our spiritual journey, is keeping us from following Jesus?

I love how this-worldly Jesus' response is: it is not just pie-in-the-sky-by-and-by, but the promise that those who give up "house, family, or fields" for the Gospel will recieve a hundredfold "now in this age." They will, however, be received "with persecutions." Jesus throws in the mention of eternal life-- what the rich man asked about in the first place -- almost as an afterthought, at the end of the list.

Is wealth the "hump" on the camel, that keeps it from fitting through the eye of the needle?

*******************HERE'S A LITTLE DOOZY FROM JAMES:
Come now, you rich people, weep and wail for the miseries that are coming to you. Your riches have rotted, and your clothes are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver have rusted, and their rust will be evidence against you, and it will eat your flesh like fire. You have laid up treasure for the last days. Listen! The wages of the labourers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts. You have lived on the earth in luxury and in pleasure; you have fattened your hearts on a day of slaughter. You have condemned and murdered the righteous one, who does not resist you. (James 5:1-6)

Hear that? The very wealth piled up "for the last days" will itself bear witness against us in the last days! Our gold will melt in our pockets. Our own fat will eat our flesh like fire. Oh, the irony.

Sounds like the hump that broke the camel's back to me.

*******************HERE'S A LITTLE GEM FROM THE SHEPHERD OF HERMAS,
an early Christian work. In a vision, Hermas is shown a great tower being built by angels, representing the Church. (See above for the Hebrews reading, also using the image of us being built into God's House.) Hermas asks his guide:
******************************************************
“But who are these, Lady, that are white and round, and yet do not fit into the building of the tower?” She answered and said “How long will you be foolish and stupid, and continue every kind of question and understand nothing? These are those who have faith indeed, but they also have the riches of the world. When, therefore, tribulation comes, on account of their riches and business they deny the Lord.” I answered and said to her, “When, then, will they be useful to the building, Lady?” “When the riches that now seduce them have been circumscribed, then they will be of use to God. For as a round stone cannot become square unless portions are cut off and cast away, so also those who are rich cannot be useful to the Lord unless their riches be cut down.”

Again, sounds like that lump on that there camel's back is wealth.

* The camel's a pretty great metaphor for this, all things considered.
1) As a pack animal, it would be expected to carry "many possessions." It's the bearer of wealth, of carrier of "stuff."
2) That hump on its back? Fat. Gluttony and greed were pretty closely associated by the early Church. Until fairly recently, you had to be pretty wealthy to get fat. (You still can't get fat if you're poor most placed in the world, but it's easy as pie in the States.) Fat's sort of the physiological equivalent of hoarded wealth.

Anyway, what I'm hearing in all this is that something's gonna have to go. I'm going to have to give something up to follow Jesus-- probably a lot of things, actually-- and probably some things which I think of as part of who I am, or that I think of as benign-- even some things which I think are signs of God's favor. Am I overly proud of my own cleverness? Cut it off. Do I spend more time watching television than praying, by a factor of 10 to 1? Cut it off. Do I have "many possessions?" You heard what Jesus said.

Proper 22, Year Two, Monday

[Hosea 14:1-9]

We've whipped ourselves like horses to a froth
and fallen broken far before the finish;
We've stumbled under burdens we have fashioned,
the iron bridles in which we place our faith,
and our necks-- We'd rather do than flourish--

Put down the dead weight of your wooden gods;
The U.S. shall not save us; We shall not say
"My God" to the work of our own hands;
We will not ride upon HumVees over the heads
of our enemies; Our efforts cannot save--

Take these words and give me better ones;
Take these hands and teach them to be still;
Take this guilt; Take this cry from my tongue;
Place on my lips this sweeter fruit: Your will,
My God, your will and only yours be done--

Events mundane: The Eyeglasses

Getting out of the bath this morning, I stepped on my glasses, which I'd left on the floor like an idiot. The frames bent pretty badly; Now, try as I might, I can't seem to get them to bend back into quite the shape they were before.

So, my vision's all wonky. The lenses are just fractionally off, bent at odd angles just a little bit, and my visual cortex is not amused. Everything looks just the teensiest bit distorted and wrong.

Funny Coincidence b/n Daily & Sunday Lectionaries

So, I went to two clergy Bible studies Tuesday (one Ecumenical, one Episcopal) on this Sunday's readings (Proper 22). We talked a lot about this Sunday's Gospel, Mark 10:2-9. Both groups devoted a good deal of energy and attention to the pastoral concerns that such a Gospel about divorce raises in a Church setting.

We were all clearly uncomfortable with this Gospel in some way or another. It is certainly one of the "harder" sayings about divorce in the New Testament, much less forgiving than Matthean version of this saying (which allows for divorce prompted by "unchastity"); Paul gives even more latitude in his advice to the Corinthians.

We had legitimate pastoral, even theological points to raise. Many in our congegations may have remarried after bad marriages, and found real mutual support and lasting love with their new partners. Then again, others may have remained in abusive relationships based on this very Gospel passage. I remarked that, although Jesus can condemn the "hardness of heart" that led the men in patriarchal ancient Israel to "put away" their wives, it is actually softness of heart (that is, pastoral concern) that prompts such allowances in the Church today.

[Or, to take the point one further: Jesus is condemning hardness of heart here. Isn't it ironic that in the Church, we usually react to divorce with more hardness of heart? Sadly, we don't really know what to "do" with divorces in our parishes, how to be loving with these people during what is probably one of the hardest times of their lives? Too often, the response they meet with is a tacit shunning by the community.]

Well, anyway, on to the funny coincidence part of this little rant:

Wouldn't you know, that very Tuesday's first Daily Office reading [Hosea 4:1-11a] comes down pretty hard on priests who "have forgotten the law of the Lord" and "feed on the sin of my people."

Now, I do not think that anyone in our Lectionary groups wants to make allowances for divorce merely to be easy or coddle people; and we are certainly not involved in the sort of idolatry that Hosea uses "adultery" as a metaphor for! However, I could not help but feel a little indicted by Hosea's stark declaration: "It will be like people, like priest." Certainly, the Church does bend in many ways to the winds of culture. This may be the result of pastoral concern, or our study of the harmony of the messages we find in scripture, or theological discernment-- but we should always take care not merely to follow the Spirit of this Age.

Let us recall that, as we bend, we should only do so with fear and trembling.

Proper 21, Year Two, Thursday

[Hosea 5:8-6:6]

That God could be like so grotesque a thing:
"Like a moth to Ephraim, like dry-rot to Judah."
To think of God like that: Something which chews
sin's putrefying rottenness from within,

the stinking softness of our wounds gone septic,
what loathsomeness, what tumorous fleshy growth,
those gross beds of decay. Amid the groans
of dying soldiers and rude battlefield physick,

(before the use of penicillin) those
whose wounds went gangrenous were those which had been
picked clean of maggots-- It seems they had eaten
the infection from the flesh-- but Oh!--

to face such ravenous purifiers,
or else the rot consumes the limb's meat raw
and then-- to face the jerk of the bone-saw,
the staunching-rags, the cauterizing fire!

Perhaps something like love must guide the hand
that slides the blade through skin to lance the boil,
to rend and tear and burn that we may heal,
But God!, our Great Physician: it is hard.

Proper 21, Year B (RCL) sermon

Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29. James 5:13-20. Mark 9:38-50.


So: How many people can you carry?

[PAUSE]

I don’t have too many clear memories of my very early childhood. One of my most vivid memories from this time is that my father used to play “airplane” with me-- picking me up and swinging me around the air. I loved this game: I would beg him to do it. I also remember how, when we’d been driving at night and I’d fallen asleep in the back seat, he would pick me up and carry me into the house and put me in bed. If I woke up during this process, I would pretend I was still asleep so he wouldn’t put me down.

Then, there came the day when my father said to me: “You’re getting too big for this.” I was growing up, and too heavy for him to pick up and swing around, or carry into the house late at night. I was going to have to make do with my own two feet.

I didn’t have to like it, but he was right. If he didn’t put me down as I grew heavier, I wouldn’t learn to rely on my own strength—and my poor father would, eventually, break his back!

[PAUSE]

In today’s reading from Numbers, the people of Israel—who have just escaped from Slavery in Egypt under Moses’ leadership—are whining and wishing for all the wonderful foods they used to have in Egypt. Now, remember, this is after God has given them Manna—bread from heaven to eat; they’re not hungry, they’re just being picky. They complain: “We had onions and fish and garlic and all sorts of fresh produce in Egypt... and now all we have is this crummy ‘manna’ stuff! Remember how well we ate back in the good old days?”

Now, if the Israelites were honest with themselves, they’d have to admit that the “good old days” back in Egypt weren’t all sunshine and roses. They’re editing their memories considerably: this is the same land they were enslaved in, in which they were forced to work under impossible circumstances, bake bricks without the proper building materials, and where their sons were killed to keep their numbers in check.

Anyone who thinks that humor doesn’t have a place in the Old Testament hasn’t read Moses’ response to all this. Moses asks the LORD, in a pretty sarcastic tone: “God, what did I do to deserve this? If this is how you treat your friends, I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies! Did I conceive all these people? Did I give birth to them, that you want me to carry them around like children, and comfort them every time they come crying to me with a new problem? I can’t carry them all alone; they’re too heavy for me.” And, in one last exasperated, smart-aleck remark, Moses demands: “If this is how you’re going to treat me, you might as well just kill me right now—that is, if I’ve done enough to deserve at least a little mercy.”

Moses has had enough. He’s on his last nerve. Moses, the prophet extraordinaire, the most important spiritual leader in the entire Torah, is at the end of his rope. These are the words of a man who is exhausted, overworked, and can’t take it anymore. He can’t carry all the people of Israel all by himself: they are too heavy for him. Now, if even Moses has to admit he can’t carry everyone all by himself, this should give us some pause.

So: how many people can you carry?

[PAUSE]

Luckily, God knows that, while each of us has genuine strength and support to offer one another, no one of can carry everyone all by him-or-herself. Even Moses knew his limitations; Luckily for the people of Israel, God ignored his flippant demand “Put me to death at once!” and answered the underlying complaint, “I am not able to carry all this people alone.” God gives Moses 70 fellow-workers chosen from the elders of Israel, and pours out the Holy Spirit upon them—even the two who couldn’t make it to the meeting!

Similarly, Jesus chooses twelve special members from among his followers to receive special training and help in his work of preaching, healing, and casting out demons. And this circle of 12 isn’t all: in another story, Jesus also sends out 70 disciples on a similar mission of preaching and healing.

God pours out his spirit over many to participate in the leadership and spiritual guidance of his people. This is a great gift, because no one person can do it all.

Joshua, Moses’ assistant, wants to silence the two of the elders who prophesy in the camp, outside of the tent where Moses had gathered the seventy. Similarly, John and the apostles want Jesus to silence the man who is casting out demons in Jesus’ name. Perhaps they feel threatened by the Holy Spirit moving outside of the clearly-delineated chain-of-command, by others who are not in their immediate circle showing authority.

Or perhaps Joshua and John think that they do not need any help, that they can handle things just fine all by themselves, thank you very much. If that’s how they feel, it’s easy for them to say: the real weight of the burden of all the people are laid the heaviest on Moses and Jesus, not on their seconds-in-command! Moses and Jesus both recognize what blessing more help is.

Both Moses and Jesus offer similar responses. Moses replies: “Are you jealous for my sake? I wish that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!” And Jesus tells John: “Do not stop him: for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us.” Their leadership welcomes the contributions that others have to make; and recognizes their contributions. The more ministers, the better!

[PAUSE]

In the Epistle reading, James describes a church in which the wishes of Moses have come true. After Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended upon the church, The Lord really had put his Spirit upon God’s people! And James describes a community in which all members are able to mutually support each other, to hold each other up in good times and in bad:

The suffering should pray together. The cheerful should sing together. The sick should call for the elders to pray over them and anoint them in the name of the Lord. We should confess our sins to each other and our sins will be forgiven. Although there may be members of the community of God who have particular prominence or special roles, the whole body prays for each other and supports each other. We should be able to lean on each other.

In our church today, we pray together for each other in the Prayers of the People, but we can share our concerns and dreams with each other in more personal ways, as well. Our Book of Common Prayer allows us to confess our sins to laypersons, unlike the Roman Catholics who limit confession to the clergy. We may visit each other when we are sick, and share conversation and prayer about our fears and hardships. The personal friendships that we make at Church may, with the sharing of our struggles and prayer for each other, become something more than “secular” friendship—it may be spiritual friendship. In the last few vestry meetings, the vestry members have taken a few minutes at the beginning of the meeting to share something for which they are thankful, and something for which they would like a prayer offered, and then taken turns praying for each other. Such sharing may push us a little, beyond the comfortable “casual” conversations, but the spiritual rewards are rich. I think we have all experienced the power of God at work at times when we “get real” with each other, when we share honestly what we are struggling with in our lives and pray over it with other Christians. James is confident that the Holy Spirit will be at work among us when we uphold and support each other. As James said, “The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.”

Working together like this, helping each other, we aren’t so much trying to carry each other—it’s more like we’re there to lean on when necessary. If you lean on me, and I lean on you, we can make it.

So: maybe the question, “How many people can you carry?” isn’t the right question, after all.

Maybe the question is, “How many people can we carry?”

Working together,
sharing each others’ burdens,
the answer is:
all of us.