Not a Knower but a
Learner
Not long ago, I was on nephew duty at my brother’s house, when the toaster oven suddenly failed. My nephew Nathan looked up at me and said, “It’s alright Uncle Jonny. Daddy will know how to fix it.”
I think it is this kind of childlike trust to which Jesus refers when he says we must become like little children to enter the kingdom of God. Nathan has a reverential awe for all the things Daddy can do. He speaks about my brother almost as though he were God himself. Daddy knows how to mow the lawn. How to drive the car. How to do just about everything.
I smile, sometimes, when Nathan extols my brother’s abilities, because I can remember when my brother and I looked up to our dad in the same way. I remember when my brother learned how to mow the lawn from my dad, how to prime the carburetor and yank the pull cord and push the mower in even rectangles and triangles. I remember my brother’s first driving lessons in the family car, cautiously coasting down West Creek on a quiet Saturday morning.
In my nephews’ eyes, Daddy knows everything. They look up to Daddy as they look up to God.
In my eyes, my brother is not a knower but a learner. My brother knows what we learned from our dad, and what our dad learned from his, and so on.
God Does Now What God
Did Then
Today’s scripture tells the story of Israel’s entrance into the Promised Land by the crossing of the River Jordan. As we know from last week’s scripture, Moses has died. Joshua is the new leader. God promises Joshua at the beginning of today’s scripture, “I will be with you as I was with Moses” (Josh 3:7). God wastes little time coming good on this promise.
For readers or listeners who are familiar with Israel’s story, the crossing of the Jordan sounds familiar. The waters being raised up into walls (Josh 3:13)? The people “crossing over on dry ground” (Josh 3:7)? Where have we heard this before?
There is a rich symmetry in this scene. A miraculous crossing of water is how the story of Israel began, remember? When God delivers the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, God divides the sea for them and provides safe passage into the wilderness. In today’s story, the Israelites’ wilderness wandering comes to an end as God again divides the water for them and provides safe passage into the Promised Land. In both instances, Israel’s leader guides the people, but it would be a mistake to look upon the leadership as the reason for the successful crossing. As God says to Joshua, “I will be with you as I was with Moses” (Josh 3:7).
The common thread here is not a mighty leader, but a faithful God. The good news is simple: God does now what God did then.
“You Have One
Teacher”
That is the good news that we celebrate today on All Saints Sunday. God does now what God did then. So we remember our loved ones passed, not in a hopeless way, as though they are gone completely and forever, but instead in a hopeful way, trusting that the God who lived in them still lives; that the God who gave us them, still gives; and that they still live in Him who lives.
In today’s gospel lectionary text, Jesus warns his disciples against the hypocrisy of religious leaders whose actions are superficial and spring from the wrong motives, who do things to be seen by others and praised by them rather than to be faithful to God. Jesus’ warning, which begins sensibly enough with the desire that our deeds should match our words, escalates rather quickly into a radical claim that the church seems largely to have ignored: “You are not to be called rabbi”—that is, teacher—“for you have one teacher, and you are all students” (Matt 23:8).
The danger with titles, such as pastor or pope or saint, is that there is a tendency to elevate the person as a teacher and to forget that they are just as much students as we are, and that we all have one Teacher.
I think back to my nephews. They look upon my brother, Daddy, as an almost Godlike figure, but I know that in fact he is just as much a learner as they are. We are all learners. All students.
The invitation, then, on this All Saints Sunday is not to glorify our loved ones as self-made individuals. It is to glorify God in them, to remember them as gifts from a good Giver, as learners of a good Teacher, as humans made of the exact same stuff as us, whose good example inspires us to trust in the Love that made them who they were. The invitation is to remember that God does now as God did then, that God does in us what God did in them, that in God we may live as they still live.
As a little exercise, I would invite you to think about a loved one passed who is on your heart this morning. What is it about them that you are most thankful for? What is it about them that made them a gift to you and others?
…
I can’t know for certain, of course, but I would guess that what you are thankful for has very little to do with the conventional pursuits of life, wealth, property, prestige. I doubt your deepest thanks is reserved for how much money they made or the professional recognition that they received, even if you are proud of these things. My guess is that what you are most thankful for has to do with their faith (whether or not they would have used that term). My guess is that what you are most grateful for is something spiritual. Maybe it was their compassionate attention, or their steadfast faithfulness, or their unconditional acceptance, or their exuberant joy that could not be quashed. Maybe it is as simple as a habit of theirs that you can still see in your mind’s eye, like a smile or laughter or a certain look in their eyes. What you are remembering, what you are thankful for—I think—is God in them. It is what they learned from God.
Our saints are not saviors. They are the saved. They are not the ones who parted the waters; they are the ones for whom, in whom, through whom, God parted the waters. They are not knowers. They are students, learners, just like us. We see in them not their own strength, but God’s salvation, which gives us hope for today.
For God does now what God did then. Or as our psalmist today
proclaims, “O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steadfast love
endures forever.”
Prayer
Our one true Teacher,
Whose gifts and lessons we celebrate
In the lives of our saints
As well as in the life of Christ
…
Make us learners of your love,
Students of your Spirit, gentle and humble,
That we would trust in your steadfast care
And live with integrity,
Our deeds bearing witness to your good news.
In Christ, our brother: Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment