Midrash

This is the first time I've had to preach two Sundays in a row. Last week I adapted "Reflection Beginning with A Text" from Education for Ministry as a basis for an interactive sermon. I wanted to do something different this week, but still keep with our theme of learning how to engage Scripture. It was not until Friday morning that inspiration--or the Spirit--hit. I still hadn't finished writing when I left to spend the late afternoon and evening with friends. Truth be told, I had almost nothing on paper by the time I left.

I spent most of the night writing. Lots of uninspired words. Finally, I put down the stories and quotes I knew were going to be part of the sermon and went to bed at about 4 a.m. I got up briefly at some point to jot a note down on a piece of paper by my bed that I typed into the appropriate place before printing out the text and heading out the door. I truly left it up to the Spirit this morning.

After the service, a couple of the parishioners told me how much they appreciated the sermon. One said that it spoke directly to her, that she needed to hear about Sarah. I thanked her and let her know that it truly had come from God this morning. "Then it came through for me!" she responded. I'm glad I was there to bring the message.

Here is the sermon reconstructed as best as I can recall from what I said this morning. It is almost twice as long as the printed text I took with me to church.

Peace,
Jeff

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Revised Common Lectionary Year B: Genesis 1-7, 15-16

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen.

A student asked, “why did God choose Abraham?”

Rabbi Hiyya replied, “Abraham’s father was an idol-maker. He would make stone images and sell them in a shop in the market. One day, Abraham’s father asked him to watch over the idols in his shop while he was away. While he was gone, Abraham seized a stick, smashed all the statues, and placed the stick in the hand of the biggest of them. When his father came back, he asked, ‘Who did this to the gods?’ Abraham answered, ‘The biggest of them rose up and smashed all the others.’ His father replied, ‘Are you making fun of me? They cannot do anything! They are merely pieces of stone!’ Abraham answered, ‘Let your ears hear what your mouth is saying!’”

A student asked, “Genesis 12 tells us that Abram and Sarai took all the people they acquired, or some translations read ‘made,’ in Haran. Why is it said 'that they made'?”

Rabbi Huna said, “Abraham would convert the men, and Sarah would convert the women.”

And what about Sarah? Today’s reading from Genesis says only

As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her. [Genesis 17:15-16]

There are very few stories about Sarah. One tells of another time God came to Sarah and Abraham yet again to tell them that they would have a child in their old age, and Sarah laughed. During an earlier visit Abraham laughed, but when Sarah laughed, the angel asked her why she laughed. They did not rebuke Abraham for his laughter.

I’m going to ask you some questions, but this week I won’t ask you to answer them now. Take them home with you and ponder them over the coming week.

Why doesn’t Scripture tell us more about Sarah?

If Sarah is the mother of nations, what does that tell us about us as a people spiritually? Genetically?

What is your story about Sarah?

A student asked, “And what about Sarah?”

The rabbi replied, “As long as Sarah was alive, a cloud was fixed at the entrance to her tent. When she died, that cloud ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, the cloud returned. As long as Sarah was alive, the doors were wide open. When she died, that generosity ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, that generosity returned. As long as Sarah was alive, a blessing was associated with the dough. When she died, that blessing ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, that blessing returned. As long as Sarah was alive, a lamp burned from one Sabbath night until the next. When she died, that lamp ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, that fire returned.

And where do these stories from the rabbis come from? Midrash, a body of Jewish literature that looks at Scripture in a particular way. In fact, there are volumes and volumes of it. In her book God’s Echo, Rabbi Sandy Sasso says

Midrash is both a product—a body of literature written over a period of time, and a process—a way of interpreting sacred text that continues to the present day. In addressing questions about how to apply the Bible to new historical and social situations and how to find contemporary communal and personal meaning and significance in the Torah’s ancestral legacy, the rabbis produced numerous collections of midrash. [p. 23]

Midrash is a conversation. One Jewish text says

Moses received the Torah from God at Sinai. He transmitted it to Joshua, Joshua to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets to the members of the Great Assembly. [Avot 1:1]

I don’t see anything here about priests or professors! It is a conversation between all of us, and each of us, and Bible, that continues to this day. Dr. Burton Visotzky, who I’ve quoted before when speaking with you, says

It is only in the reading and the rereading which each community does together that the Bible becomes a timeless text, the Word of God… The give and take of interpretation creates an extra voice in the room, the sound of Reading the Book. When that happens, the Bible speaks not only to each community of readers…but to all humanity. [Quoted in God’s Echo, p. 15]

And so I leave you today with one more question to consider: What’s more important, the questions or the answers?

Education for Ministry Sunday

In late April Episcopal Life posted inserts for Education for Ministry (EfM) and suggested they be used the first Sunday in May. I emailed the link to Lois and asked we should include them in our bulletins that Sunday and announce that if we had enough people, we would have a group at Grace Church. Even though I was going to be away that Sunday, I thought it was an important message to get out. Lois emailed me back and said she'd been thinking along the same lines but wanted to really "do" an EfM Sunday. I could preach. We'd use one of the historic liturgies from the EfM materials. Graduates and current participants from our parish could be available during coffee hour to answer questions, etc.

So that's what we did. Lois planned the liturgy using the "Romanized Gallican (Celtic) Eucharist" from a previous version of the Supplemental materials (it's not in our current edition). I preached:

Fourth Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 5: Genesis 12:1-9

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

People are by nature storytellers. We’ve been telling stories from the beginning of time. We’ve recorded them in many different ways: the 32,000-year-old cave paintings in the Grotte Chauvet, the Celtic High Crosses of the 9th and 10th Centuries, the 11th Century Bayeux Tapestry, or movies, radio and television of the 20th Century. The roots of modern theater can be found in the acting out of Bible stories for the “common people”—the uneducated masses who could not understand even the reading of Scripture in church, because the texts were in Latin. Even with all the newfangled technologies progress keeps throwing at us, we still find ways to tell our stories using them. If you doubt me, take a look at all the blogs on the web, or all the stuff on Facebook, or podcasts, or… Well, you get the idea.

As Christians we have what we sometimes call capital T The capital S Story, which is recorded in our Scriptures. We also call it God’s Story. But the Scriptures aren’t just God’s Story, they are also people’s stories and the story of how God and people have responded to each other. In today’s reading from Genesis we see a shift in The Story from the world in general to the story of those who call themselves God’s people.

And what a story it is. Dr. Burton Visotzky, rabbi and noted professor of ethics, calls it a 3,000-year-old tawdry soap opera. In a lecture I attended he told us you could think of it in tabloid headlines: “Brimstone Rains On Sodom, Man Sleeps With Daughters.” Or, and this was a thought I’d had long before I went to Dr. Visotzky’s lecture, look at it as a family story—a large, dysfunctional family. As a Christian, I’d even taken it a step further. This is Jesus’ large, dysfunctional family.

So how is it that we call this tawdry soap opera, this dysfunctional family history, how is it that we call it our sacred story? Capital T The capital S Story?

Well, it’s not. Not unless we engage it. Laugh with it. Cry with it. Argue with it. Scream at it. Wrestle with it. And not unless we do these things not only by ourselves, but also with others. Dr. Visotzky puts it this way. “When we discuss it in community, that’s when the revelatory process happens. The ability to hear God happens in the discussion and debate. When I pray, I talk to God; when I discuss, God talks to me.”

When we actively engage our Scriptures, we become part of a long tradition of people of faith struggling to live as God’s people in the world. We find ourselves sharing our stories. We start to see how our stories interact with each others’ and with God’s, how we are all part of capital T The capital S Story.

In many ways, it all boils down to two key questions. “What is my God story?” and “What is your God story?”

Part of my God story is that I’m a learner. I want to know who, what, when, where, why, and how. Where did these stories come from? Who wrote them down? When were they written down? Who interpreted them this way? Why are they so important to us? Why do we have only these ones? Why don’t we have any first-hand records of Jesus? Why? Why? Why? I suppose you could say I’m a perpetual two-year-old when it comes to Scripture. Every time I get an answer, I find myself asking why. For a long time, I wrestled with my questions and looked for answers on my own. I read a lot of books. I had occasional conversations with other folks. I kept asking questions.

Then about 12 years ago, Mom enrolled in Education for Ministry, or EfM as most of us call it. For four years she’d come to me and ask questions about what she was reading. Sometimes I had an answer, sometimes not, but we always had interesting discussions. The more I learned about the program, the more I thought it would be great to participate in it myself. So I patiently waited for Mom to graduate, so I could join the group here at Grace. The time came, and I signed up with six other members of our parish. Then for one reason or another, we found out that the group couldn’t meet at Grace. We scrambled and found a group in Westport that had room for all of us. At which point I realized, gee, I could have joined a different group a long time ago! On the other hand, I would have had a completely different experience than I did.

What can I tell you about EfM? A group of six to 12 people and one to two mentors meets once a week over the course of the “school year”—usually September to June. Year One participants study the Hebrew Scriptures, or the Old Testament. Year Twos study the Christian Scriptures, or the New Testament. Year Threes study Church History, and Year Fours Theology. Part of each seminar session is spent discussing the readings. Sounds like a prescription for a weekly nap, doesn’t it? At least until you put six or eight people in a room who feel safe enough with each other to share their views and opinions!

That’s the second key piece of EfM, and probably the most important. It’s not just a classroom of students discussing what they’ve read. Each group is a gathered community. We share our stories with each other—both the everyday stuff and our God Stories. We worship together. In the group I currently co-mentor we even share a meal, which is a blessing for those of us who arrive directly from work. Okay, sounds good, but really not much more than an in-depth bible study combined with abridged classes in Church History and Theology. Except that in EfM we don’t just study theology, we DO theology.

In his book Faith Seeking Understanding, Daniel Migliore writes

What is theology? It is neither mere repetition of church doctrines nor grandiose system building. It is faith asking questions, seeking understanding. It is disciplined yet bold reflection on Christian faith in the God of the gospel. It is the activity of "taking rational trouble over the mystery” of God revealed in Jesus Christ as attested in Scripture. It is inquiry yoked to prayer.” (p. 19)

It is faith asking questions, seeking understanding. In other words, theology is not the work of a group of dead Church Fathers, nor of a group of professors in a seminary, nor the clergy leading their churches. It is everybody’s work—you, me, Lois, those academics in their ivory towers, and yes, even those long dead Church Fathers whose writings make us crazy when we read them.

So what does doing theology look like? In Education for Ministry it takes the form of what we call Theological Reflection, or TR for short. The program has a handful of different methods for doing Theological Reflections, but the essential ingredients are looking at our stories, looking at God’s Story—usually in the form of a passage from capital T The capital S Story—and seeing where they intersect, or don’t. We engage the Scriptures fully, in community, often using an image or a metaphor familiar to everyone in the group. We look at what our contemporary culture has to say about what we see in the Scriptures, and we talk about what we believe personally. Finally, we share any insights we have had and look at the implications of our beliefs and our insights in terms of decisions we make and actions we may or may not take.

Serious stuff, this doing theology, isn’t it? But believe me, when a TR moves from someone’s story about standing up for themselves for the first time, to Dorothy realizing that the Ruby Slippers will take her home to Kansas, to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walking out of the blazing furnace, it is not a dull conversation!

So we have education, and we have theology. Where’s the ministry part? We find it with each other in the gathered community of our EfM group. We practice it when we take the insights and implications from the TRs out into the world. We do it when we listen to others’ God stories and share ours with them. It is the daily effort we make to live as faithful people of God in the world around us.

It’s not easy, and it is the journey of a lifetime. It is a journey we make one step at a time. It has been that way from the beginning, just as Abram’s journey from Haran did not happen in a single move. As his descendants continued to travel throughout their lives. And like Abram, who is initially given only limited information about the ways in which God will bless him, we don’t always have the whole picture. Not even capital T The capital S Story tells us everything.

So we make the journey with others in a variety of ways. I hope I’ve been able to give you taste of how EfM helps some of us on our journeys. If you want to talk some more about the program, I encourage you to talk to those members of Grace Church who have graduated from EfM and those who are currently involved. Let us share our stories with you.

And even if EfM is not for you, I encourage you to learn how to share your God story and to listen to others’ God stories. For it is in the sharing of these stories we begin to see how our story is part of Abram’s story, of Jesus’ story, of The Story. It is how we learn what it means to be human, to be people of God, to be Christian.

May we hear and share our stories over and over again. Amen.