RELATIONSHIP, FRIENDSHIP AND COMMUNITY

Herbert O’Driscoll in his reflection on Jesus’ temptation in the desert (“The Time of Demons” in A Greening of Imaginations) observes that “the opposite of ego, power, and domination are relationship, friendship, and community.” Jesus was sorely and deeply tempted to use his gifts to make himself the center of his soon-to-be-begun ministry. He could use his powers to attract followers simply because they were mesmerized by what he could do. He could be the center of his universe by dominating everyone through their fear concerning what he could do, so powerful that he was.

That would be nothing new. Ego, power and domination characterized Caesar, Pilate, Herod – the cast of characters during Jesus’ time on earth. The same can be said of despots throughout history, for that is what one is when one leads through fear: a despot. We probably think that no such thoughts ever crossed Jesus’ mind. I think we would be wrong. Jesus was human and those thoughts cross our minds as well even though we have no real political power.

But we do have power. We have the power to make ourselves the center of everything allowing our ego to control what we say and do. We can make everything all about us rather than trying to build relationships with those around us. Such cannot be built when we have to be the center of attention. They will simply walk away, as we probably have when encountering those who demand to be the center of our attention.

It is difficult to be friends with those who have power over us and vice versa. My wife was in management for many years. She had no real friends with those whom she managed. It was simply a different type of relationship. But she was always a great manager because it was never about her. It was always about making sure she and those she managed did the very best they could to make the company they worked for a success. She was also friendly, such is her nature, but saved friendship with those not affiliated with her work.

And community? It is built when we all work together and not when someone has to be in charge, who has to call all the shots, be big man on campus, dominate all the conversations. We know the type and perhaps sometimes we are the type, allowing our ego to get the best of us, the desire for power trying to grab hold. It is not a pretty picture and we know it. It wasn’t a pretty picture for Jesus and he knew it and he rejected it.

My guess is that those temptations never left him. It was not a one-and-done, forty days and it’s over sort of thing. It was a constant battle throughout his ministry as it is a constant battle for us throughout our lives. Our ego wants to be the center of attention, power is so seductive and being in charge is a rush that can be intoxicating. None of this is pretty. But it is real. O’Driscoll made me pause and reflect. To be honest, it was not a comfortable one at times.

WHAT WE REMEMBER

We preachers want to believe that we wax eloquent every, or almost every, Sunday. We want to believe that not only are our sermons great but they also move those who heard them to amend their lives if necessary. We also want to believe that they will remember what we have said for a long time to come. The truth is that we hope they remember what we have said by Wednesday. And, in all honesty, that’s probably as good as it gets for most of our sermons most of the time.

Not only do we clergy want to believe that our words will be remembered for longer than a day or three, but, more importantly, they will remember what we did when we were among them as their pastor. The problem with that is that most of us don’t do a lot that is really memorable, something that might deserve a plaque on the wall. One of the churches I served has quite a few honoring past Senior Wardens. The only recognition the Rectors received was a picture in the rogues gallery and name and dates served on a plaque at the entrance of the church which moist parishioners never use. So much for remembering what we did. When we move on, the memory of who we were fades. And that is as it should be. We came as servants and only hope we have served well.

Not too long ago the parish with all the plaques celebrated its 175^th anniversary. My wife and I were invited back for anniversary banquet. Because it had been almost 30 years since I served, only a handful of those at the banquet remembered me. About a month later, one of the parishioners who was putting together a history of the parish asked me to write a few paragraphs about what had been done in and around the parish while I was Rector. I struggled to remember. The people of the parish and I had done some good things, but that was what were supposed to do and not to do them just to be remembered in a history book or by a plaque on the wall.

What the people whom we serve will remember, and what other people will remember about us, no matter who we are, clergy or laity, is not what we said or what we did while we lived among them. No what they remember is how we made them feel when we were together. Did we make them feel good about themselves or did we not? Did they feel comfortable in our presence or ill at ease? Did they look forward to being with us or did they try to avoid us if they could? As clergy we wonder if they were sad to see us go or happy that we moved on, happy for themselves, that is? No one can please everyone. I know. There have been a few parishioners who think I hung the moon and others who think I came from the dark side of it. Such is true for each and every one of us.

Our goal in life is to help build community wherever we are. We do that by what we say and how we say it, or just the opposite. Our words and actions can be constructive or destructive. Again, what is most important in the here-and-now and what will be remembered long after we are gone is how we made others feel when we were among them. We certainly hope it was positive.

SMOOTHING OUT THE WRINKLES

For the past few years my wife and I have been taking bus trips sponsored by local touring companies visiting presidential homes and libraries. We’ve covered most of the east coast and will do Ohio this summer. Not too long ago we flew to California to visit the Nixon and Reagan Libraries among other sites. We already knew much about each of the presidents before we visited their homes and libraries. On those trips we, of course, learned more.

One of our learnings, which we fully expected, is that the tour guides, in my words, always tent to smooth out the wrinkles of the president whose library we visit. Our latest visits were no different. At the Reagan Library there was not one mention by the docent nor one indication in any of the photos or videos of the Iran-Contra Affair. Zip! Nada! Our docent at the Nixon Library blamed the break in at the Watergate which started that who mess on the release of the Pentagon Papers by Daniel Ellsberg. Patent nonsense.

Trying to hide Iran-Contra of blame Watergate on some convoluted reasoning does a disservice to both presidents and their presidency. Reagan was not as wonderful as his library makes him out to be nor was Nixon as bad as Watergate made his presidency seem. Being honest with the wrinkles is important. When we visited the homes of the presidents who owned slaves even though they were opposed to slavery, the docents were upfront about the conundrum their president faced.

We all have wrinkles. When we make our heroes or leaders or anyone else for that matter seem somehow better than they are or were, we do them a disservice. When we try to do it to ourselves, we do the same. Our wrinkles are part of who we are, warts and all, as some would say. For us mere mortals it is important to recognized and even, if necessary, acknowledge those wrinkles, those failings and shortcomings. It is only in that way that we can try to iron them out, not to act as if they were never there but to make ourselves into a better person because of them.

Richard Nixon, great diplomat and social reformer that he was (look it up if you don’t believe me, and this coming from a life-long Democrat) became an even greater diplomat and presidential advisor after his resignation. He smoothed out his wrinkles. Good for him. Good for us. Good for the world. Maybe Ronald Reagan would have as well if Alzheimer’s hadn’t taken his life before he could.

The measure of our worth is often not so much in what we accomplish when all is going well, but how we have recognized the mistakes and failings that have wrinkled us and become a better person because of them. That is not easy to do because it takes great humility, often a great deal of humility, to do so. But if and when we do, like Richard Nixon, who “came to Jesus” with David Frost, our little world and we ourselves will be better for it. And isn’t that precisely the Gospel message?

THINGS TO DO

In the Confession we often admit that we have left undone the things we ought to have done: sins of omission. It is easy to forget about those sins, not so the things we have done that we know we should not have done. Those sins are bright and clear because they were deliberate. We knew beforehand that what we were about to do or say was selfish, sinful, but we went ahead and said or did it anyway. Such is sin.

But are sins of omission always sinful? No, in the sense that if we were unaware of a need we could resolve and only later realized we could have helped, then no sin is involved. However, if we know we should have and could have said or done something that needed to be said or done and simply and selfishly chose not to, then, yes, they are. We were simply too lazy or too uncaring or both to do or say what we should have, what would have been said or done by any caring human being let alone anyone who professes to be a follower of Jesus.

Sins of omission are not the result, as some wag once put it, “because I lost the list of things I should do.” On the one hand, there is no list. On the other, the list can be endless. There is so much that we can do as Christians to help alleviate the pain and suffering of others. And, yet, there is only so much that we, individually, can do. We are not miracle workers. But we can perform miracles.

If we are waiting for God or someone to make a to-do list, we’re wasting valuable time. The list, or at least an item or two on the list, is noticed only when we open our eyes to the world about us and then ask what our personal response should be. If we keep our eyes shut, we see no evil, no need. Keeping those eyes shut can be, and probably is, a real occasion for sins of omission.

Most of the time, to be sure, we try to be aware of what is going in in the world around us, especially our little corner of it. We might not be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed all the time. We simply can’t be and still act responsibly. We’d be overwhelmed by all the need, all the suffering. All we can do is give it our best shot knowing full well that we will fall short perhaps more often than not. We are only human after all.

That is our consolation and saving grace. For sometimes it is only by the grace of God that we become aware of what we can and should say or do in a particular situation – a real item on our list. Then with God’s grace and strength we say or do what needs to be said or done.

There still will be times, all too many, I suppose, when we do not do what we know we should do and leave undone what we know we should and could have done: sins of commission and omission. God understands and so should we. That’s not a “get out of jail” card. It is simply an honest reminder to be more mindful than we sometimes are.