Homily Fifth Sunday in Lent -
A little seed lay on the ground,
And soon began to sprout.
Seeing all the flowers around
It wondered: “How shall I come out?
The lily’s face is fair and proud
But just a
trifle cold.
The rose, I think is rather loud,
And its fashion’s getting old.
Of the violet some may think well,
But it’s not a flower I’d choose;
Nor even the
I’ve never cared for blues.”
And so it criticized each flower,
This haughty little seed,
Until it woke one summer
And found itself a weed!
Dr. Gerald Jampolsky wrote a book a
few years ago entitled Love Is Letting Go of Fear. In that book he asks this question: “Have you ever given yourself the opportunity
of going through just one day concentrating on totally accepting everyone and
making no judgments?” He goes on to say,
“Everything we think or say reacts on us like a boomerang. When we send out judgments in the form of
criticism, fury, or other attack-thoughts, they come back to us. When we send out only love, it comes back to
us.”
So I suggest that you try this once
a month (I don’t think we can really handle more than that.) For one day – say, the third Tuesday of each
month, or whatever – suspend all judgments.
Spend on day of acceptance. Pull
back from judging and just look and accept.
See the difference it makes in your life.
Once again, as we gather for this
Fifth Sunday of Lent we are reminded of God’s amazing mercy, love, God works continually and feverishly to save us – to heal us
– to bring us home. We spend this Lent
– and indeed we celebrate the Eucharist together today to try to understand
what our God is like for us – We need more and more to understand God’s mercy
toward us – understanding this will transform us.
And so in the first reading the
Prophet Isaiah give us a very poetic rendering of what happened in the Exodus
story. God not only freed the people and brought them to a new home – God
exceeded anything that anyone could imagine.
And so we are called upon to
believe that our God is continually loving us and saving us and bringing us
home. We are to believe that we are treasured by our God – not because we’ve
done anything special –but that is simply the kind of God we have.
And isn’t this what Jesus works to
show us – to teach us?
Our gospel story is a challenging
one. As a matter of fact we are told
that the early Church didn’t include this story in some of the earlier
renditions of the Gospels. Did it sound
like Jesus was sanctioning sin? Did it sound like loose morals? Did it seem to
fly in the face of family life? The moral majority were probably having a bad
time with it!
But of course they, like us so
often, missed the point. Jesus treated this woman caught in adultery like Jesus
treated everyone else – there was no distinction. The tax collector, the child,
the fisherman, the sick person, the men, the women, the rich, the poor were all
on the receiving end of Jesus’ love and compassion and understanding. There was
no one who fell outside his circle. His table was very crowded.
But perhaps some in the early
church were not as willing to be so inclusive. Sure there was room at the table
for most – those tax collectors may have been a bad lot but, well, we all can
understand a desire for money. The sick – the leper – might be pretty
disgusting and I don’t want to catch it – but the poor soul –I guess I’ll
include him. And the poor – and maybe women – but adulterers! We have to draw
the line somewhere. But Jesus didn’t.
Jesus illustrates that God’s love –
as illustrated the continuing work of salvation – bringing the people to safety
and salvation – doesn’t have limits. And this woman standing in front of him is
as deserving of love and compassion and the chance for growth and healing as
anyone else who might come along.
We probably wouldn’t be as hard on
her as those first century Christians – would we? We understand human sexuality better, don’t
we? And we know about temptation. Perhaps those people who dragged her before
Jesus were a bit prudish and narrow and ignorant. We’d never do that!
But we have to ask ourselves who we
would drag before Jesus. Are there people in our experience – in the experience
of our contemporary society that we don’t quite think belong around the table –
people that stretch it a bit for us?
Would it be the drug addict –
continually relapsing and using all around them to get the next high?
Would it be the homeless- the
chronic homeless – the one who doesn’t seem to cooperate with social services
to find the shelter not be in our face in the street on the way to work in the
morning?
Would it be the mentally ill whose
behavior scares us – and who we’d rather not see – especially next door to us.
Would it be the person living with
AIDS – they got this by their behavior after all?
Would it be the transgendered, the
transsexual – We can’t quite figure that out!
Or maybe
those who challenge us greatly these days because they feel that their love and
relationship should not be penalized because they happen to be of the same sex.
Would we drag some or all of these
people in the circle before Jesus and say/suggest that this is going too far –
a loving God is one thing but isn’t there a limit!
Paul gives us a great line in the
second reading today. Paul tells us that
he “has not taken possession.” Paul the great apostle who has experience the
Lord’s calling and conversion and healing power knows that he hasn’t gotten it
all yet and so he’d better not act like he did. Paul says he just wants to move
forward and move up and get closer to the ideal that God has set in Jesus. Paul
wants desperately to love as much and as well and as inclusively as Jesus did.
And so should we.
Those people who dragged that woman
in front of Jesus probably thought they were doing the good thing. They figured
that this woman had gone too far. But Jesus moved them and challenged their
judgment.
Our goal this lent, like Paul’s,
should be to allow Jesus’ love and mercy move us so that we don’t go dragging
anyone away from our table.
Freed from that narrowness and trying to love more like Jesus does we’ll be in a better place for Easter and will experience more than ever the newness of Easter life.