Ephesians
2:1-10
You were dead through
the trespasses and sins 2in which you once
lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the
power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are
disobedient. 3All of us once lived among them in
the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses,
and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else. 4But
God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved
us 5even when we were dead through our
trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have
been saved— 6and raised us up with him and
seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7so
that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his
grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus. 8For
by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own
doing; it is the gift of God— 9not the result
of works, so that no one may boast. 10For we are
what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God
prepared beforehand to be our way of life.
Time-what is it?
Simone Weil, the French mystic, speaks
of time as a sign of God's patience. God waits and waits-waits for us to
see God's presence in our lives, waits for us to acknowledge this
presence, waits for us to come to God.
Always, time flows on; time to repent,
to return. The Hebrew word for repentance has a two-fold meaning: it
means "return," the return to God; but, it also means
"answer," the answer that the God who seems silent in our
lives awaits from us.
Time is a succession of "nows."
God's hope is that one of those "nows" will be sanctified by
our repentance.
The succession of prophets sent to and
rejected by humankind is evidence that too many "nows" of
history have been wasted-and yet time and the divine waiting continues.
Time, itself, has become a sign of the
God who is "rich in mercy" as Paul tells us in the letter to
the Ephesians.
We avoid the message of time with many
subterfuges. One of these is to see God as a sporadically indulgent rich
one from whom we hope to receive things or blessings. God is seen as the
wealthy one and we are the beggars. We ask for this and that-and wonder
if God exists when our wishes do not come true.
All of this playacting is a subterfuge
which reverses the reality of the situation. The reality is that God is
the beggar.
Time is, then, the sign of the beggar's
presence at the gates of our lives. That is a sticking image-time as the
sign of a patient beggar.
The Hindu poet, Tagore, has a
collection of sings called the Gitanjali. Song number 50 is especially
beautiful. It sings of one who has gone from door to door all his life
begging. One day the beggar sees, in the distance, a chariot. The
chariot is coming his way. The beggar wonders who is this approaching
king. The chariot draws near and the beggar thinks that his days of
begging are at an end. He waits for the gold to be tossed in the dust at
his feet. Instead, the chariot stops and kingly person steps down. He
meets the expectant beggar and holds out his right hand and asks:
"What have you to give me?"
The beggar is stunned. He reaches into
his sack and reluctantly brings out the tiniest bit of corn and gives it
grudgingly to the stranger. The song ends with these words:
But how great my
surprise when at he day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a
least little grain of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and
wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all.
This song is wonderful description of
the God of Jesus. We have made rich by the lavishness of God's grace.
And God is there, waiting throughout time, begging from us who thought
that we were the beggars.
The cross is the enfleshment in history
of the beggar God. The hands outstretched, the body totally vulnerable,
the lips pleading with us: "My body . . . my blood, given for you.
Do this in memory of me. Be the good which nourishes each others' lives.
I beg you, be this for each other. Do this in memory of me." The
God of Jesus is the beggar; it is we who are wealthy because God gave
everything for us and in so doing God has become the beggar in our
midst.
We might not be sure of this image, are
we? It is hard to see God as a beggar-but maybe by trying to do so we
can see better how much God loves us. After all, who are we God should
give all for us? And what have we to offer this divine beggar? We think
so little of ourselves that we have become obsessed with self; we are so
insecure about our own worth that we erect thick walls all around
ourselves and will let down the drawbridge only with great reluctance,
Who are we that God should give all for
us? What do we have to offer? We fail to realize how wonderfully made we
are, we fail to recognize the gift that is our life. All we see is the
triteness of our lives, a triteness that is everywhere. Getting up in
the morning, getting the kids off to school, getting our selves to work,
coming home to fix dinner and go to be, and then starting all over again
the next day-it is all rather trite. And it is the same for all of
us-whether we are the President or the most obscure person in the land.
Triteness marks human life. But, the message of Jesus is the triteness
of human life somehow touches eternity. If the flowers of the filed, the
sparrows of the air, and the hairs of our heads are noticed by God, what
of our lives?
In the letter to the church at Ephesus,
Paul tells us that Jesus is the evidence of the richness of God's mercy.
We equate mercy with pity-but mercy is very different from pity.
The Hebrew scriptures have no one word
for mercy, it is a concept that involves many words. One of these is
"rahamin." Rahamin comes from the same Hebrew stem as the word
for womb and it is often translated as tenderness. It refers to the
instinctual relationship of parent to child, the relationship that would
bring a parent to say, "No matter what he/she do0es, he/she is my
child." God has rahamin for Israel-it is never withdrawn because
the parent cannot deny the child. There is a life blood flowing through
the veins of both parent and child which cannot be forgotten or ignored.
In Jesus, the rahamin of God is known
to be for all humanity. It is rahamin that makes the father scan the
horizon for the prodigal son; it is rahamin that moves the Samaritan
outcast to help the wounded man on the road to Jericho; it is a divine
rahamin that sends a Son into the world; John speaks of this divine
rahamin when he says, "God so loved the world that God gave God's
only Son."
Jesus came, not out of pity, but
because of the tenderness of God. God sees in us a worth and dignity we
do not see in ourselves. There is an image of God in us which, no matter
how many times we forget, God never forgets. Jesus is the definitive
sign that there is a limitless caring for and tenderness toward our
lives. Jesus is the definitive sign of the richness of God's mercy.
This mercy is for us-we have God-given
right to claim it. God is begging for us to do so, God is begging for us
to give our all. Each of us can give much. We can love each other-God
begs this of us; if we fail to do so, our love will not enter creation
and we have closed an entry of God into the world. We can forgive each
other-God begs this of us; if we fail to do so, our forgiveness will not
enter creation. We can have hope-God begs this of us; if we fail,
darkness threatens our creation. We can be just---God begs this of us;
if we fail, harshness reigns.
God is looking to us and begging for us
to turn to him and find peace. This peace will only come if we recognize
our riches and respond to this beggar God.
And time continues as a demonstration
of God's patience. God is there begging at the gates-it is for us to
respond. Don't miss the opportunity.
Truly, it is the opportunity not just
of a lifetime but of an eternity.
Think again of the words of Tagore:
But how great my
surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a
least little grain of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and
wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all.
Isn't this a powerful image of the end
of our lives?
We take the bag of important things we
have been carrying through a lifetime and empty it on the floor and
begin to sort out its contents. What will we find? Many of the things we
had thought important really are refuse. But there, among the refuse,
will be bits of gold, brilliantly shinning in the penetrating divine
light. We look closely and see that those bits of gold represent
everything that we had given to the beggar God.
It is true that the only things we can
take with us in death are what we have given away. There will be
tears-we will weep in sorrow because we did not have the heart to give
God our all, but we will weep in joy that the beggar God has seen in us
a richness we failed to see in ourselves. Then we shall know the truth
of the words of Ephesians because we will be the beneficiaries of the
"great wealth of God's favor."