The vice-presidential debate

 Fact Checkers found that both Harris and Pence got some numbers wrong.

And both evaded questions.

But the biggest lie of the night was Pence saying he and the president 'did not lie about the pandemic to the American people". We know they did.

He also lied that Trump stopped 'all trips from China' early on. Thousands of people avoided the shutdown and came home from China.

Never mind, the virus in NY came from people arriving from Europe.

A pretty even debate except that Pence constantly ignored the time limits on answers, even when the moderator said over and over, 'your time is up'.

Not nearly as chaotic as the first presidential debate, but the Vice-President did exceed the rules of the debate.

Now the president won't agree to a virtual town hall next week, even though he has Covid and, in fact, claims he'll start doing in person rallies!

Alas and alack!

Nothing has changed.

I've already voted, taking my absentee ballot to the town hall and putting it in a ballot box.

Vote as soon as you can--and vote for Joe.

(all opinions here are mine and mine alone)

 

My sermon from Sunday

Today’s lessons are full of vineyards.

 

I know next to nothing about vineyards. I grew up in the mountains of southern West Virginia—no vineyards there.

 

My Grandmother and my uncle Lee had grape vines but they don’t count as a vineyard.

 

Connecticut has some vineyards, but I’ve never visited any of them.

 

And given the things we’re told about vineyards, I’m not sure I ever want to visit them.

 

Isaiah tells us how his beloved created a vineyard and then it was destroyed.

 

The Psalmist tells us of how the Lord’s vineyard has broken walls and wild boars have ravaged it. Then he pleads with God to restore the vineyard to preserve ‘what your right hand has planted.’ But there’s no response from God.

 

Then there is Jesus’ parable about the horrible things that happened in the Landowner’s vineyard.

 

No vineyards in my future, you can bet your life!

 

But, then again, none of the vineyards in the readings are really vineyards. In Isaiah and the Psalm they metaphors and Jesus’s parable is an allegory. When it comes to metaphors and allegories, you’ve come to the right place. I’m an aging English major—metaphors and allegories are in my blood.

 

To remind us all what an Allegory is, here is the Merriam/Webster definition: ‘the expression of truth or generalizations about human experience by use of symbolic fictional figures and their actions.”

 

A parable is already a kind of ‘allegory’. It comes from both Greek and Latin roots. “para-bolaine” means, literally, ‘to throw out together’. You throw out the story with one hand and a deeper meaning with the other. The story both hides and reveals the meaning behind it.

 

Mark has practically the same parable as Matthew’s in today’s gospel. Mark calls the main character “a man” which Matthew replaces with ‘a landowner’ to make it more clear that in the allegory the ‘landowner’ is more clearly ‘the Lord of the manor’—God.

 

The allegory is pretty basic: the Landowner is God, the vineyard is Israel, the tenants are those in Israel who want to replace God, the slaves he sends are the prophets of the Hebrew bible and the Son is Jesus.

 

Pretty obvious really. Then the punishment will be the judgement of God on those who have ignored the prophets, rejected the cornerstone and crucified Jesus.

 

And it’s also clear that the chief priests and Pharisees think Jesus is talking about them but are powerless to arrest him because the crowds think he is a prophet.

 

Pretty straight-forward for an allegory. And worth taking at face value as I laid it out.

 

But I have something to caution us all about.

In centuries following, the Christian church took teachings like this and fine-tuned them.

 

That ended up looking like this: they began to convince themselves that the ‘tenants’ were all of Israel, not just the bad seeds in an other-wise good apple. That sort of misreading led to centuries of Christians looking down on Jews and being anti-semitic.

 

It exists still today in some forms of Christianity and broadly in our culture. We need to point it out and expose it for what it is—a misreading of Jesus’ words.

 

Nothing short of shining the Light of Truth on anti-semitic thoughts is enough. To not do so makes us the cruel tenants.

It’s what we must do. Stand up against all hatred of those different from ourselves. To do less is to fall short of the love of God.

Amen.

 

 

It's getting darker every day

It's getting darker every day.

 And I don't mean it's Autumn and there is less daylight each day from now until late in the year.

What I mean is what's going on in the country and with the president.

Well over a dozen folks have been infected with the virus in and around the White House.

Yet the president, still infected, came back from Walter Reed Hospital and stood on the balcony and took off his mask before entering the residence.

Then today he canceled the negotiations over another pandemic support bill and the stock market (one of the things he has going for him) plummeted. 

He also tweeted that the virus 'shouldn't be feared' and hinted, as in the past, that it's no worse than the flu. Even though we know he said on tape to Bob Woodward 6 months ago that 'it's worse than' the worst flu.

The only light in the darkness is that every day Biden pulls further ahead in the polls.

I can't wait until the Harris-Pence debate tomorrow night. That will put more light on the debacle this administration has become.

There is hope, beloved.

There is hope in the darkness.

 

(all opinions here are mine and mine alone.)

 

  

who do you say that I am?

(I probably posted this before--but I needed to again. "Identity" is so important in these days.)

 

Who do you say that I am?

 

        Today we find ourselves in the city of Caesarea Philippi.

          Just a short aside about Caesarea Philippi because it is a fascinating place—it is north of the Sea of Galilee, near what is now the border between Israel and Lebanon. Prior to being named “Caesarea Philippi” by the Tetrarch of Galilee, Herod Philip (to honor Caesar Augustus and…oh, himself…) the city was known as Banias in Hebrew and “Paneas” in Greek. It was the site of a shrine to Pan, the god of mirth and drink and debauchery (God bless him!). But it didn’t stop there: there were shrines to Persian gods and Roman gods and to Caesar, who was worshipped as a god, and even shrines to the Pre-Greek gods of that region. Caesarea Philippi was a veritable panoply of worship and sacrifice. And besides all that, the water that flows through Banius from Mount Hermon is the headwaters of the River Jordan. So it was a terribly holy place for Jews as well.

          So, in this remarkably holy, sacred place, Jesus asked his disciples: “Who do you say that I am?”

          I want to go on record as saying that is one of the most audacious, outrageous, daring and vulnerable questions anyone can ask. Who in their right mind would ask it? What rational person would want to know the answer when it came?

 

          Think about it for a moment—WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM?

          Is that something you really, truly, honestly want to know? From an acquaintance? From a close friend? Even from someone who loves you? Do you really, truly, honestly want to know “who they say you are?”

          Let me talk about me for a moment….I’m not sure I want to risk the pain and disappointment and confusion that hearing “who someone else says I am” would cause me.

          Two examples, if I might.

          First of all, I’ve had any number of people who have come to know me and love me tell me that when they first met me they thought I was “arrogant”. That’s the word they’ve all used—arrogant.

          WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM? I could have asked them when they didn’t know me well.

          YOU ARE VERY ARROGANT, they would have answered.

          Of all the things I think about myself—about WHO I AM—about the last thing would be “arrogant”. I’m always using so much energy trying to please people and make them like me and show them how honorable I am, that I would never imagine they’d think I was arrogant. I’ve spent hours and hours trying to understand why people would think that’s “who I am….”

          And I would have been bereft, deeply pained, stung to the core.

          It is a very risky question to ask: WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM?

          Who would want to know? Who would be confident enough to hear the response?

          Secondly, I know myself better than anyone knows me. I know all my dark and secret places, all my aching places, all my shame and fear and brokenness. Why would I ask someone WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM? For fear of hearing the “truth” about what I know about me…..

          My greatest fear is that someone will “figure me out” and know what a phony, what a fake, what a hypocrite, what a sham I am.

          So why would I ever ask someone: WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM?

 

          Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a Christian murdered by the Nazi’s at the end of WW II. One of his books was Letters and Papers from Prison and contained this poem. Listen. Listen carefully…. 

            

WHO AM I?

Who am I? They often tell me

I stepped from my cell’s confinement

Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,

Like a Squire from his country home.

 

Who am I? They often tell me

I used to speak to my wardens

Freely and friendly and clearly,

As though they were mine to command.

 

Who am I? they also tell me

I bore the days of misfortune

Equally, smilingly, proudly,

Like one accustomed to win.

 

Am I really all that which other men tell of?

Or am I only what I myself know of myself?

Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,

Struggling for breath, as though hands were

Compressing my throat,

Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,

Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,

Tossing in expectation of great events,

Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,

Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,

Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

 

Who am I? This or the other?

Am I one person today and tomorrow another?

Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others

And before myself a contemptable, woebegone weaking?

Or is something within me still like a beaten army,

Fleeing in distain from victory already achieved?

 

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.

Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine.

 

 

 

 

I had a friend who was a priest in West Virginia with me for five years. He was a great guy, very funny. But he always ran himself down—about his problems and short-comings. We went our different ways—I went to CT and he went west. Then, a dozen or so years later, he was elected Bishop. I went to his consecration. Hearing what people said about him in the reception, when I talked with him I said, “don’t ever run yourself down again—I heard what those people said about Who You Are.

So, maybe who people say we are can challenge us to live into their words.

There were many opinions about ‘who Jesus was’, but Peter nailed it--“you are the Messiah!” Jesus told him, “You are the Rock (petros in Greek) on which I’ll build my church”. Then he told them to tell no one who he was.

There are many voices, both inside our heads and from those around us that have an opinion about who you and I are.

But Bonhoeffer nailed it—whoever we are, we belong to God.

We are God’s beloved children. And what we need to do with that is to live in the world as the hands and hearts and voices and actions of Jesus. We are to be Christ’s Body to this darkling world.

We have to. We just have to.

We must…. We must….We must.  

 

       

 

Why on earth would he do that?

The President is in Walter Reed. At least a dozen of his closest allies are infected with Covid.

Yet today he left the hospital to be driven up and down the street to wave through the window to supporters there.

His driver and passenger had on gowns as well as the best masks.

But he put them at risk.

All for a photo shoot.

Just like clearing peaceful protesters and some members of the Episcopal church to get a photo op holding a bible like he wasn't sure what it was.

It's all about him.

Not about those around him. Not about innocent protesters, not about his driver.

Not about you and me.

It's all about him.

That's why on earth he would do it.

Because it's about him.

Him and him only.

 

 

I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy,...

I would never wish the President and First Lady to get Covid-19, but now they have.

I pray they recover, I truly do.

But, I'm not surprised. The President has violated every guideline his own experts set for living through the pandemic.

I only worry about how many more around him or at his no-masks, no social distance rallies might be infected.

This virus has no limits--Red or Blue doesn't matter.

It infects minorities and the poor much more, but even the leader of the free world is not immune.

He's now at Walter Reed Hospital. I truly wish him well.

And I also wish this infection convinces more Americans to obey the guidelines and protect themselves and others.

We're not going to get through this until common sense prevails.

Common sense is what we need.

That shouldn't be hard.

But it is.

(All opinions here are mine and mine alone.)

 

  

Trying to relax

It was a great day--cool and dry.

I read a lot and watched some TV--a netflix show called "AWAY", a series about the first trip to Mars.

I really recommend it.

I was just trying to clear my mind after the disaster of the first presidential debate.

I mostly did it.

English muffin for breakfast--one piece with cream cheese and one with peanut butter and jelly.

A salad and Chicken salad from last night for lunch.

Fish and chips and cold slaw Bern fixed for dinner.

Celebrating the Yankees and Lakers wins last night.

Lots of distractions.

But it still haunts me--the debate and how out of control the president was. What a nightmare!

But deep breaths and Autumn weather and reading and "AWAY" helped a lot.

Hope you're recovering too.

I can't wait for Harris/Pence to debate. That should give me joy and wonder.

(all opinions here are mine and mine alone)