The Gift of Patience

For about two years now, I have been playing disc golf. It is a game that is played in many ways like your more typical golf… with a tee pad and the aim of getting your ball or disc into the hole in as few strokes as possible.

As I have grown in my ability to play, I have picked up drivers, midrange discs and putters. They each have their own purpose – they fly in different ways, and you use different discs for different sorts of shots.

But I’m still not very good at the game. I bogey and double bogey more than I like to admit. And unlike golf – there is no handicap on the disc golf course… although for a while, we played with something called “Katie-par…” meaning I got an extra stroke on every hole =)

I think what I enjoy most about the game is that I can be outside, hiking through beautiful courses. The grass is beneath my feet, the trees loom around me, we play around streams and ponds, on top of hills and in valleys.

Most of the time, I’m comfortable with my lack of skill. I do the best I can in any given moment.

But there are those days… and I’m sure that any of you who play games or sports has had them… when nothing seems to go right. Every shot is off. I lose sight of the fact that I’m still learning the game and expect perfection from myself. I get frustrated and that frustration only makes me more prone to miss the next shot, which in turn makes me more frustrated and angry. There was actually a hole this last weekend where I hit four trees in a row, on four consecutive shots before I got to the basket. There is nothing worse than when those beautiful trees become obstacles, and I have to admit, sometimes my temper gets the best of me. I want to be good at the game, and I want to be good, NOW!

Patience is not a virtue that comes easily to us. We come with short fuses. We are personally invested in our work and our play and we want to see the results of our efforts. But when things start to fall apart, instead of taking the long view – we begin to lose hope, we begin to get angry, and often we behave in ways that are far from Christian.

This morning, we revisit a familiar biblical story about two brothers… Jacob and Esau. Esau is the older of the two – a rough and tumble sort of guy who thinks with his gut. Jacob on the other hand, is quietly clever… a mamma’s boy who uses his wit to often trick his older brother and gain the upper hand.

Now, as we might remember the stories… Jacob uses these skills to steal his birthright from the older brother and also a deathbed blessing from his father.

Esau is furious at the outcome of these events. Everything has just been taken from him. This isn’t the kind of frustration that comes from missing a few shots on the golf course – this is the kind of existential angst that comes from having your very identity called into question. As we heard in the scriptures from this morning – Esau seethed in anger against Jacob… he brooded, “The time for mourning my father’s death is close. And then I’ll kill my brother Jacob.”

It was the last straw. Esau just couldn’t take it anymore and he snapped. And Jacob had to flee for his life, far off to the land of his uncle, Laban.

Now, most of the time, when we visit these stories, our attention stays with Jacob. We follow him to Paddan Aram where he works for seven years for the hand of his beloved Rachel… and then for seven more years when he is tricked into marrying Leah instead. We follow his story as he spends time increasing the flocks and in turning tricking his uncle Laban and ends up with the best of the flocks and the herds and a huge family of wealth and power.

We could point to Jacob and talk about his patience. About how in spite of being cheated by his uncle, he stuck to his promises and waited for God’s blessings. We could talk about how his persistence and trust led to his success.

But this summer, we are taking a different look at these stories. And so instead, I want us to look back to the land of Canaan and at the son who was left behind.

This fruit of the spirit, patience, is often translated as longsuffering. It is the gift of being able to endure in spite of the circumstances that have come against you. It is a hopeful fortitude that reminds us that there is light at the end of the tunnel… that if we trust and wait, the outcome we are praying for will come to pass.

Barclay’s commentary says that patience is the grace of a person who could revenge a wrong but doesn’t.

Patience is the grace of a person who could revenge a wrong but doesn’t.

Now, out on the disc golf course… that would mean that patience is not picking up my disk and chucking it at the nearest tree out of frustration for them being in the way. Patience is seeking an opening, waiting for the anger to pass, breathing deeply, and finding a way forward. Patience is remembering that this inconvenience, this obstacle, will not last forever.

If patience is the grace of a person who could revenge a wrong but doesn’t… then I think the person who actually exemplifies the spirit of patience is not Jacob, but his older brother, Esau.

The first way that Esau is patient is that he doesn’t strike out immediately in anger when his brother cheats him. If we followed their story from the time they were just children, I’m sure that there was more than just these two instances of trickery. And yet, up until this point, up until the moment that Jacob steals away his blessing, Esau has managed to not let it get to him. But this last time we hear about… well, this is the last straw. He has just had everything taken away from him and Esau is pissed off… and yet even in the midst of his anger… we might even say righteous anger… he has enough control to wait.

Many people in today’s world who had something like this done to them would immediately grab the nearest weapon and seek out their brother. But Esau waits. He thinks. He knows that there are some things that are more important at the moment… namely, the fact that his father is dying.

Now, if part of being patient is being slow to anger… I want to say that Esau has this only partially right. He became angry, all right. But he did not allow that anger to consume him in an instant. He thought about others. He allowed his anger to be placed on the back burner.

When we find ourselves in situations of great frustration and anger, I think patience is taking just a moment to breathe and to pray. Patience is asking for God to come into this situation and remind us of the things that are truly important in the moment, and to let that anger move out of the way, if necessary.

The second way that Esau helps us to understand what patience is comes from the way he lives his life after Jacob flees.

He acts not out of spite, but in all things tries to follow his father’s wishes. When he hears that Jacob was sent away with the command not to marry a Canaanite woman, then Esau himself, seeks out a woman that would please his father. He seeks out his half-uncle Ishmael… and marries one of his daughters.

And that is all we hear about his life for the next 14 years.

Not once does Esau plot and plan and come looking for his brother. Not once does he try to live out that statement of anger that his brother would die. No, he moves on with his own life. He carves out the best possible future for himself. In spite of the situation that he finds himself in, he endures. That is longsuffering. That is patience.

Making the most of our given situations is a very hard thing to do. We like to sit and stew and wish that things were different. We breed anger and resentment in our hearts. And we spend too much time looking into the past, instead of living into our new futures.

I have spent many mornings talking with the pastor from the Lutheran church . As many of you know, his wife, has a degenerative condition and as time goes on, her body will continue to fail. But as I have talked with Pastor, he also tells me about the patience and peace that his wife has. She knows that God will heal her… sheknows that God has already healed her… but she is patient and she knows that that her time of healing may not come in this lifetime. But, her diagnosis is not an obstacle to living the best possible life that she can today. She has a hopeful fortitude that keeps her going, day by day.

Finally, Esau teaches us about patience through the forgiveness of his heart. Do you remember back to that definition of patience… as the grace of a person who could revenge a wrong, but doesn’t? That is Esau.

Had Esau been the wrong kind of patient… the kind of patient that waits for the right opportunity and moment to strike back… then his opportunity would have come when Jacob returned to the land of his father.

And Jacob knows it. Jacob trembles with fear at the thought of the anger of his brother. He sends messengers ahead to let Esau know they are coming… it’s almost as if he is saying – I’m here… let’s get this over with.

Jacob divides up his great wealth and sends it over the river in waves as a gift to soothe his brother’s anger. He sends his wives and children over – in essence saying – all that I have is yours if you want it.

Had Esau been the wrong kind of patient… the revengeful kind of patient… he would have destroyed those gifts. Those four hundred men standing with him on the other side of the river would have taken the flocks, killed his wives and children and come rushing over the river to kill the trickster brother.

But Esau was a man of great patience. He put his anger on the backburner of his soul, and allowed God to let forgiveness replace the hatred. When Esau was given the chance to revenge the wrong that was made upon his life, he instead ran to his brother, fell into his arms and wept.

And to all of those gifts – the flocks and the wealth that Jacob sent over… Esau didn’t take them out of righteous indignation. He didn’t say – it’s about time that I got my birthright and my power and wealth back… no – he looked his brother square in the eye and he said, “I have enough, brother… keep what you have for yourself.”

The past was forgiven. All that mattered now was their futures. The future of two brothers who were reunited at long last.

It is difficult to forgive. And it will take time to forgive. But when we fail to do so, we carry around with us a burden that is often too heavy to bear.

Let us instead seek God’s patience. The kind of patience that our Master has for us… the kind of patience that allows us to come back to him time and time and time again – after a million wrongs have been committed and greets us with open arms and tears of joy. Our reading from the second letter of Peter this morning reminds us that God’s patience is our salvation… God’s gracious spirit that chooses not to revenge the wrongs we have committed. God’s gracious spirit that waits until we finally turn back towards her. Amen and Amen.

Forgive

This is the third sermon in a series I am preaching on the Lord’s Prayer. And the first one that had enough of me in it to publish. I needed a way out of a preaching rut and finally got to the place where I could preach again:

Sermon Text: Luke 11:1-10, Mark 1:21-28

Recently, I came across an article about a church in Seattle that is trying to reclaim a more “masculine” Jesus. Their pastor, Mark Driscoll, argues that Jesus and the church have been feminized – that Jesus is seen as weak and soft – the type of guy who would hang out with cuddly sheep and babies, rather than the sort of man’s man who turned over the tables in the temple.

My first thought as I read that article was, why can’t Jesus be both? I have always thought that Jesus embodied the fullness of both men and women, male and female – the best of both worlds if you will. But I also got to thinking about the church and how good of a job it does in truly representing that Body of Christ in the world today.

I did some research. On any given Sunday, the church will be made up of about 40% men and 60% women. Each week, 25% of married churchgoing women come to church without their husbands. I count myself among that group. So do quite a few of you. So part of me wants to hear what Rev. Driscoll has to say – I want to know what exactly he thinks the church is missing.
In an interview he gave, he said something to the effect that the church is full of chicks and pastel colors and songs full of emotion and feelings… and that guys would rather be out hunting, or working on their trucks, or watching football. Pretty apropos for Super Bowl Sunday, I thought.

But perhaps the problem is a bit deeper than that. As I was working on this sermon, the movie “A Knight’s Tale” was on in the background and I caught a bit of dialogue that was like a light bulb coming on.

Count Adamar in the film is strong and powerful and his rival becomes a young peasant boy who is mascarading as a knight to compete in a jousting tournament. When the Count sees young Will show mercy to a competitor, the Count is disgusted. “he shows weakness,” The count exclaims. “That’s all mercy is.” Lightbulb!

Could it be that some men stay home not because of pastel carpet or children’s sermons or pretty music, but because churches are full of mercy and forgiveness?

Strength and power in our world are defined by justice and retribution. To forgive someone, to show them mercy, to let them off without punishment is weakness. And yet that is exactly what we talk about in the church. In fact, today, we celebrate the two sacraments of our tradition that revolve around forgiveness and new beginnings – baptism and communion.

We live in a dog eat dog world of war, prisons, and defense policies that involve getting the other guy before they can get us. Power is defined by how big our guns are, how much money we have, and who we have pushed out of the way to get to where we are. Not acts of forgiveness with simple things like water and bread.

The problem here is not that the church is weak and the world is strong. That violence is power and mercy is weakness. The problem is that we haven’t done a good enough job of really proclaiming the power of God.

That power shows up in our reading from Mark this morning… only a little bit in disguise. We read this passage and hear something about Jesus teaching others with authority only to have a possessed man interrupt. Jesus casts out the spirit, so we think this must be about healing.

But the word that we translate into authority can also simply mean power. Jesus’ very teaching is powerful. It is what he has to say that first amazes the crowds. His very speaking demonstrates that the power of God is present.

And only then does the unclean spirit show up.

Ofelia Ortega writes that “the forces of evil know of the healing power of Jesus’ word; they are not submissive or indifferent. Jesus’ powerful teaching not only is fresh to the ears of the faithful, but it also disrupts the undisturbed presence of evil. Evil discovers that it is running its course.” (Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, page 312)

All Jesus had to do was speak, and the evil powers of the world started shaking in their boots.

“Be silent.” Jesus commanded. “Come out.” He said firmly. And the spirit obeyed.

I don’t know what to tell all of you about demons and spirits. I have never personally experienced them, although I know people who have. What I can tell you is that I firmly believe that God has power over the evil in this world.. As Gary Charles puts it, “from the onset of his Gospel, Mark signals that no oppressive boundary will stand or withstand the [power] of Jesus…. No one (except the demons) understand that the boundary between heaven and earth has been pierced and the reign of God is “at hand” (Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, page 313)

The reign of God… the Kingdom of God is at hand. When we pray the Lord’s Prayer and we get to that part about “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth”… we are talking about God’s power to live within us. We are praying for God to help us tap into that amazing power that the people witnessed within the synagogue. We are praying not only to be cleansed of our own internal demons – but we are also praying for the power to love others who have been their own internal demons.

You heard one story of the power of forgiveness this morning – of the mother who found the power to reach out to the mother of the boy who killed her son. She admitted that it was God who gave her the strength to do so.

I want to tell you another story today. A story about a church here in Iowa that took seriously Jesus prayer and the command to forgive. This story is related in the book “Becoming Jesus’ Prayer.”

Nine years ago, Farmers Chapel, a United Methodist congregation, “was burned to the ground by an arsonist. In the weeks and months that followed, the congregation had to wrestle with how to forgive the person who destroyed their 107-year-old church…. [their pastor] wrote an open letter to the unknown arsonist and had it printed in the local newspaper…” (Becoming Jesus’ Prayer, page 37-38)

Part of the letter is as follows:

“Our worship time is 9:00AM every Sunday. I tell you this because I want you to know that you are invited. In fact, we even plan to reserve a seat just for you. Our faith has a lot to say about forgiveness. Every Sunday we ask God to forgive our sins but only as we have forgiven those who have sinned against us. That would be you. So if you would join us for worship, we could practice this kind of forgiveness face to face. I say “practice” for a reason. I don’t expect us to get it right the first or even the second time. Of course we’ll continue to work to forgive you even if you decline our invitation to worship. Forgiveness is the cornerstone of the faith we have inherited. Some people think it is impossible. They may be right. I only know that we have to try. Our forgiveness of you is tied to God’s forgiveness of us. We can’t receive something we are not willing to give others. So you see, if we harbor hatred for you in our hearts, we harbor the smoldering ashes of your arson. If we cling to bitterness, we fan the embers of your violent act. If we fantasize about revenge, we rekindle a destructive flame that will consume us. Forgiveness may indeed be impossible, but for us it is not optional.” (as printed in Becoming Jesus’ Prayer)

That 107-year-old church that burned to the ground has been rebuilt and at the focal point of their worship space is a cross that has been built out of the charred timbers of their old building. Every single time that Body of Christ comes together, they are a living witness that “life comes out of death, that hope emerges from desolation.” (Becoming Jesus’ Prayer, page 39) There is no weakness there – only power.

Today as we gather around the waters of baptism, we become witnesses to the love of God that claims us before we even know how speak. And we are renewed by the Spirit of God, that flows among us and helps us to resist evil and injustice and oppression in the world. That is not weakness – that is power.

And every Sunday that we come together for a meal of simple bread and juice, we are witnesses that all are welcome at the table of our Lord. We partake of that meal not out of simple ritual, but because there is real transformative power. The bread and the cup transforms us into the body of Christ poured out for the redemption of the world. The redemption of the world is not the stuff of sissys or pansys or the weak – it is for the bold, those who are willing to take the risk of stepping out of our comfort zones and truly carrying grace and forgiveness outside of these walls and onto the streets of our town.

When we pray Jesus’ prayer – when we truly pray it – we are asking… no we are begging for our lives to be changed. We are asking for this church to be transformed and for it to be a place of transformation.

Instead of being a church of pastel carpet, pretty music, and potlucks… the call to forgiveness challenges us to be a church where unwed mothers and drug addicts and yes, even guys who would rather watch football than listen to a sermon, find grace. Find forgiveness. Find God.

When we become that kind of church – then we will be able to stand up to the powers of this world and say to them that their way does not work. We will speak loudly and boldly that mercy does have power, that forgiveness is God’s way. That the Reign of God is at hand and that they too are invited to belong.

Amen and Amen.