AN EXPLANATION IS NOT AN EXCUSE

It started with Adam and Eve and it's been going on ever since. We get caught doing something we know is wrong; and when asked why we did it, we explain: "The snake made me do it." Good explanation, but no excuse. "The Snake," of course, goes by a thousand names, usually the one most convenient at the time of being caught in the act: like "genes," "my parents," "my friends,", or that old standby "everybody else."

If we can name it, we can blame it; we can use it to explain our misbehavior. We use it to excuse our actions, and not only to excuse but to justify as well. Nevertheless, even a justifiable explanation does not excuse us. Never has; never will. We only wish it would.

In the Genesis parable the woman had a perfectly good explanation as to why she did what she knew she should not have done: the snake in the grass gave her a very good, logical, reasonable, even justifiable explanation for why she should eat of the tree. It was not that she was going to die. Rather, it was that she was going to live even more fully. She was going to be like God. Who wouldn't want to be like God, knowing everything? Wouldn't you? I would. So let me explain to you why I did it.

The young man convicted of murder while driving drunk explained to the jury why he did it. He was angry and he drank too much beer and he simply made a mistake. The jury agreed with him: he did make a mistake that cost two young women their lives. But the explanation didn't excuse him from doing what he knew he should not have done: get behind the wheel drunk, running a red light crashing into and killing two people. Try as we might, he and we cannot explain away our actions into reasons for excusing them.

But we try. It's probably the one way we can live with ourselves. I suspect the most difficult words to ever pass our lips are, "It's my fault. I have no excuse." Then we choke back the words we are almost dying to say, “But I can explain. And if you listen to my explanation, you might see that what I did really should be excused, even forgiven."

Explanations are not excuses. So why do we spend so much time and energy trying to explain ourselves when, in the end, the explanation will not excuse what we did? Why don't we take our lumps, resolve not to make the same mistake again, and get on with it?

Why? Human nature. That's the explanation (not the excuse). Our brain wants to justify why we did what the brain knew all along was the wrong thing to do. Just as the body is always trying to heal itself of foreign objects, like disease; just as the body tries to heal itself when it is ingested with that which will hurt it -- too many drugs, too much food, etc.; so our brain tries to heal itself by rationalizing why we just did what we implicitly knew was wrong but went ahead and did it anyway.

It can't, of course. The only resolution to the problem is repentance and forgiveness. Both start with us. We must admit our mistakes, explain them if we will but not excuse them; and then accept forgiveness both from ourselves and from others. Accepting forgiveness may be the most difficult part of all. But that's another story.

“ALL THINGS COME OF THEE, O LORD"

At the Offertory when there is no music, after the gifts are brought forward, the priest lifts the monetary offerings on high toward heaven, then the chalice and paten, and says, while doing so, "All things come of thee, O Lord." And the congregation responds, "And of thine own have we given thee." Prosaic language which simply means that God has given us everything and what we are doing in our offering is simply giving back a small part of all that God has given to us.

We know all that. We're no dummies. We know that God created everything – and still creates – and that we are the recipients of that creation. What is even more wonderful is that we are the greatest result of that creation. We are God's best work. And everything we are, everything about us: our ability to sing, to think, to dance, to work, to dunk a basketball – or the lack of some of those abilities – are the result of God's creating us the way God, in God’s infinite wisdom, chose to do so. (Parenthetically, that means it is God’s fault I am a klutz and can’t sing.)

And so everything we can do and everything we actually do is directly the result of what God has done, and is still doing, for us. The possessions we have, the money we earn, everything, in the final analysis do not belong to us: they're all God's. God simply puts us in charge of those talents and possessions. And so when we give away some of what is in our charge, we are not giving away something that is ultimately ours but something that is ultimately God's. We are giving back.

We know that, do we not? Nevertheless, sometimes it is so difficult to give away some of what we have accumulated because we worked so hard for it. And we did. There is no denying that. God did not simply plop the possessions into our hands. We had to use the raw materials God graced us with to earn, purchase, build up those possessions and those bank accounts.

What God calls us to be are good stewards of all that we are, all that we possesses. God also reminds us that the gifts we have been given and the ability to use those gifts well were not given to us for us alone. They were given to us to share with those who are less blessed. Why they were less blessed is unimportant and not our concern. Our concern is to share from our abundance. Moreover, they were given to us to help us become even more blessed.

When we give some of "thine own" to our church, we do so because we know the importance our church, our church family, is in our lives. We are better people because of this place and these people. We come to this place and are among these people because we are fed here – with the Eucharist, with fellowship, with education. That may sound self-serving. And it is. But unless we are fed spiritually, we die.

God blesses us so that we may live, and in so living be able to give some of what God has given to us to others. When we do so, we give life to one another and, we should not forget, to ourselves.

THE MOST DIFFICULT OF THESE IS...

When Martin Luther took the Church to task centuries ago, he did so because he knew the Church needed quite a bit of reforming. There was much corruption on the part of the leaders of the Church (the hierarchy) and much ignorance on the part of the people of the Church (the laity). It is hard to say either which party needed the most reforming or which reformation was the more difficult to do.

It would be easy to speculate that the more difficult task was to reform the hierarchy. Once one comes into power, one is very reluctant to give up that power and to change the order of that power. Self-security is a powerful incentive. History affirms that Luther's greatest opposition came from the hierarchy, so much so that he and his followers eventually split from the Church, although that was certainly not his original intention. He simply wanted to reform it.

But unless I miss my guess, in the end, the hierarchy was a piece of cake when compared to the job that needed to be done with the laity of the Church. Both reformations, clergy and laity, demanded conversion: a turning away from the old ways and turning to new ways or, certainly, back to the original ways Jesus laid out to live out our faith in him. But the fact of the matter is that no matter how much we want to make that conversion, it is never easy. Conversion/change is always difficult as each and every one of us knows from past experience.

Luther knew this. He knew the difficulty. He has experienced it in his own life, in his own conversion. He could have left well enough alone; but the situation was so bad that he could not do so even if it would cause him much pain and suffering. And it did. Reflecting on his own conversion he once observed about conversion itself. He opined: "There are three conversions necessary: the heart, the mind, and the purse." Now unless I miss my second guess, I would assert that the most difficult conversion to make is that of the purse.

Conversion of heart and mind are interior conversions. Conversion of purse is an exterior conversion.  The former leads to the latter. We can have a true change of heart and mind when it comes to matters of the pocketbook. But to put that change of heart into practice is often most difficult, the most difficult conversion to make.

We may, for instance, be intellectually convinced that we should – dare I use the word? – tithe. And we may be convinced in our hearts that that is what we want to do. But when it comes to putting pen to check, ah, that is most difficult. It is as if someone suddenly grabs are hand and makes it immobile. The mind says, "Write it!" The heart says, "It's the right thing to do." But the hand says, "I can't."

Who's in control here? Good question. I don't know why the conversion of purse is so difficult, the most difficult of all. How much is or is not in that purse does not seem to matter: Luther's followers were not wealthy. So tell me, why is the conversion of purse so, so, so difficult?

CARTER

As I write this, Arlena and I are in Baltimore at Tracy’s and DaMon’s home sitting at the kitchen table with our newest grandson, Carter, lying in his cradle, squirming around, just begging to be picked up and held. Oops, he just got his wish. But, then, how was his grandmother to resist? Infants make the strongest of people weak. They are so very weak and yet they are so very strong.

They are so dependent on others for their very survival. But, then, aren’t we all? No one of us can get through this life all on our own. Sometimes in our bouts with our ego we think we can. Sometimes when feeling down and out and put upon we wish we could. But no one can, not even Bill Gates. All the money in the world cannot buy what only the love and care of another human being, other human beings, can freely give.

As I look at Carter, as I hold him in my hands, I have to think about that. I have to remind myself that Carter needs me as much as I need him. Actually, as needy, as totally needy that he is, I need him more than he needs me. He doesn’t know that and that is fine. At this moment all he knows and all he cares about and all he needs is to be held and fed and changed. We lovingly fulfill those needs not just because he is our grandson but simply because he needs us.

As I do my small part in fulfilling Carter’s needs, at the same time he is reminding me of how blessed I am, how blessed I have been, to have had and to have so many, many, many loving people in my life who have made and who make my life so very blessed. The sad fact, for me at least, is that it sometimes takes a helpless baby to remind me to remind myself of my many blessings.

It would be wonderful if I were the exception to the rule here, but I think not. It is so easy for each one of us to forget just how blessed we are no matter what our age. I used to think it was only teenagers who took their blessings not only for granted but also believed they were their rights. But adults do too even if we are a little less obnoxious about it at times. Sometimes we can be even more so than teenagers!

Even if we have not had the best of parents, as some should never be parents, we all have been blessed to have others in our lives who have loved us and reminded us that as we have been loved, so, too, must we love in return and especially love those who at the moment cannot return that love.

Carter is indeed a blessing: God’s gift to his parents and grandparents and the rest of his immediate family. At this time in his life all he can do is accept our unconditional love. He cannot love in return, at least not intentionally. What he does do is make us thankful for the blessing of his life and remind us of just how blessed we are, not only because he has come into our lives but for all our blessings.e jusHHe

THE HUMAN RACE

The Episcopal Church has a requirement that all in a position of leadership, lay or clergy, attend an anti-racism workshop. To be honest, over the years of my ministry it has been very difficult for me to convince the leadership in the parishes I have served to attend these workshops. I have been given a multitude of reasons why attendance was a “no”: took too long (a full day and a half) and they were just too busy on the one hand to “I’m not a racist and don’t need to go”, on the other.

The truth is that the workshops are too long, in my humble estimation. I’ve taken them. The other truth is is that most of us do not consider ourselves racists and get angry when anyone might intimate that we are, especially by requiring that we attend an anti-racist workshop to help us overcome our racist mentality.

Thus, I found it quite interesting, fascinating and completely honest when one of my parishioners, in completing the registration form to attend the latest workshop, responded to the question: “Race/Ethnicity with “Human”. To read her mind, which I probably should not do but will anyway, her obvious point, at least to me, is that being asked to declare our race just might be the basis of the whole problem.

What we all have in common is that each and every one of us belongs to the human race. When we begin to name what we do not have in common – color of skin, country of origin, sexual orientation: the list is long – trouble starts. Then we begin comparing those differences as if they really make a difference. It’s as if saying a car painted blue is better than that same car painted yellow.

Yes, we are different. No two people are exactly alike. Those differences are what make this world what it is. But those differences do not make one person better than another person, one country better than another country, one skin color better than another skin color. What they do is help make us better. Because we are different one from another, have different experiences one from another, we can learn one from another, which is what we should be doing anyway, which is probably why God made us different one from another in the first place.

What we need to do, must do, is appreciate those differences and be thankful for them. What we must not do and which, unfortunately seems to be easy to do, is categorize and judge people who look alike to actually be alike when they are not. My brother Fran looks very much like me, handsome guy that he is. But even though we have very much in common, very much alike in many ways, we are still different.

We all belong to the human race. What we need do is treat one another as fellow human beings, treat them as we wish to be treated. If we did, then we would not need these anti-racism workshops to remind us that that is what we should be doing all the time.