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Lent 5
Authentic Sight
Every week thousands, if not millions,
of people tune in to Garrison Keillor’s “Prairie Home Companion”,
especially to hear his popular monologue,
“The News from Lake Wobegon.” Why?
Because Garrison Keillor is a
superb storyteller gifted
with the ability to engage and captivate an
audience.
You don’t have to be Christian, or Lutheran or, for that matter,
even from Minnesota to
appreciate his wit and humor, convoluted stories and practical wisdom
that come through in, what I call,
his fictional tales of real life.”
(On
second thought, maybe it helps to be from Minnesota.)
Most of us enjoy a good story that can
keep us on the edge of our seats. From
the time we are children, we
hunger for and love a
good story well told.
I had a dear friend the years we lived
in Alaska who was a superb
story-teller. Walter was a
Norwegian man in his 80’s, who spoke with a heavy brogue like he
just got off the boat - even though he
grew up in Starbuck, Minnesota.
He was truly one of the authentic “Alaskan sourdoughs,” a
slang term that refers to an
old-timer, someone who lived in Alaska for a long time and had many
frontier-type experiences. The
term "sourdough” was derived from the pouches of sourdough bread starter
that were worn on the belts or around the necks of the prospectors
during the Klondike Gold Rush of the 1890’s.
My friend Walter, an “Alaskan
sourdough” through and through, had worked on the construction of the
ALCAN Highway. He had worked at the great Independence Gold Mine in the
Talkeetna Mountains. His
last job was working on the construction of the Alaskan Oil Pipeline.
Walter was a man of many stories drawn from his breadth of life
experience.
At least once a month Walter and I would climb
into his rusty, rickety pick-up truck and drive 45 miles south of
Anchorage to a little one-room-cabin he had built in the wilderness.
You couldn’t even drive all the way to it, but had to cross the
Portage River on a raft-contraption that he built to get to it.
Much of the time we spent together was devoted to Walter telling
stories and me riveted to every word.
I’ll share with you one of his wonderful stories.
One day, while in the wilderness
at his cabin, I asked Walter
about what we should do if we
encountered a bear. After
all, it was a distinct possibility. Walter
got a twinkle in his eye, and he answered my question by telling one of
his marvelous stories - about a fellow named
“Two-Step Louie” who lived
in the wilderness outside of Fairbanks.
Louie got his nick-name, “Two-Step”,
because every Saturday he would
hike into Fairbanks to attend the town dance, and he would gleefully
dance the “two-step” into the wee hours of Sunday morning and then hike
back to his cabin.
Early one Sunday morning “Two-Step”
was on his way back when he was cornered by a grizzly bear that chased
him up a tree. The bear
tried to climb up the tree right underneath him.
The bear almost had him, and Louie didn’t even have a gun with
him for defense. All he had was a pouch of
tobacco. But Louie had
the presence of mind to grab
his pouch of tobacco, and he
began to sprinkle the tobacco down on the snout of the grizzly bear
that was snapping and snarling beneath his feet.
After a few moments the grizzly bear got the tobacco in his
eyes, and then in his
mouth, and then up his
nose.
That bear began to cough
and sneeze and snort because of the irritation caused by the
tobacco.
Suddenly, the bear bolted off
and disappeared into the forest sneezing and snorting all the way– and “Two-Step Louie” was saved
from the angry grizzly bear by his pouch of tobacco. (end of story)
When Walter finished I said,
“But Walter, I don’t smoke.
I don’t carry tobacco.”
Walter answered,
“I don’t either.
That’s why I have a gun in my pack!”
By now you are probably wondering what
this has to do with our gospel for today.
I don’t know! I just
wanted to tell that story.
Actually, I do have a point.
We love a good story, don’t we?
The gospel writers (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) were
story-tellers. They
conveyed
their passion for what Jesus meant to them using the
form of story.
If we don’t understand that, and if we don’t
take that into consideration as we read their gospels, we will
miss much of the
power, energy and the meaning that is packed into each of their
unique stories of Jesus.
The stories of Jesus included in the
gospels were not written down
until some 30 years after Jesus.
They existed in oral form
and were a part of their oral
tradition. Within this
oral tradition stories began to be grouped and each community had its
group of specific stories. The stories were
told, retold and
passed-on in
oral form until they eventually began to be recorded in
written-form. Each gospel
represents a
different community and each gospel writer
shaped the story of Jesus
uniquely for his community.
Hence, we have four unique
stories about Jesus, and four
distinct portraits of Jesus.
Frequently you will hear me refer to "Luke’s Jesus" or "Mark’s Jesus"
recognizing that each gospel writer
painted a different picture
of Jesus. There was not one
unified picture of Jesus!
Obviously they shared some stories of Jesus in common, and others they
did not. Even the stories
they shared in common often differ from gospel to gospel – the
result of the shaping of oral tradition and the meaning of Jesus for
their community.
Today’s gospel is a good example of how Luke included
a story that was shared by Matthew and Mark, but Luke uniquely wove it
into his larger story of Jesus to convey a
particular message to his
faith community – and also to us –
about what it means to follow Jesus.
It’s the story I read of the
blind beggar of Jericho.
Luke does something with this
story that Matthew and Mark do
not do.
Luke links the story of the
blind man with Jesus’ proclamation of his impending death.
Luke’s Jesus announces his imminent crucifixion to his
disciples. But
the disciples didn’t get it.
In other words, they (the disciples) were the blind ones;
“blind”
to what Jesus was saying; “blind” in their lack of understanding.
In contrast, Luke holds up
the blind man with restored sight as a role model of discipleship,
not his own disciples.
After the blind man received his
sight Luke tells us, “Immediately
he regained his sight and followed (Jesus).”
I hear an echo of
something Jesus said to his disciples earlier in Luke’s gospel:
“If any want to become my
followers, let them deny
themselves and take up their
cross daily and follow
me.”
I believe Luke was using the story of
the “blind
man” as a metaphor for his own faith community.
Luke and his community were
like the blind man who had
received his sight. Luke
and his community were now living with a
new set of eyes,
the eyes of Jesus that
enabled them to see and live into
a new vision of reality. For
Luke’s community of faith, to follow Jesus meant
“taking up the their cross and
following.” That was
“authentic sight” for
Luke’s community. Luke and
his community were now navigating through life with a new set of eyes –
the eyes of Jesus – authentic sight.
“Blindness and sight” is
a core theme of Luke’s gospel.
We could frame the message of Luke’s Jesus in terms of the
metaphor blindness and sight. If
we read Luke’s story with discernment we “see” that Luke’s Jesus
repeatedly calls into question what the world calls “sight”, and in
contrast, Luke’s Jesus offers a new way of seeing –
a new vision of reality –
authentic sight.
These Sundays of Lent I have organized
my sermons around the theme of
discipleship – what our lives might look like if really were to
“take up our cross and follow Jesus.”
We could reframe my
sermon themes of the last four weeks around the metaphor of “blindness
and sight.”
·
Four weeks ago I described the seductive “signs”
(temptations) along the road of discipleship that would
detour us off the road of
self-giving love and on to the side-roads of self-preoccupation and
self-indulgence. Reframed
in the metaphor of blindness and sight: Luke’s Jesus shows us
self-preoccupation is blindness - and
authentic sight
is refusing to detour off the road of self-giving love.
·
Three weeks ago we considered that discipleship means
coloring lavishly outside the lines of legalistic,
rigid religion with the bright colors of a fluid spirituality.
Reframed in the metaphor of blindness and sight:
Luke’s Jesus shows us that blindness is rigid, restrictive
religion - and authentic sight
is coloring outside the lines
freely with grace.
·
Two weeks ago we explored the Great Banquet parable
of Luke 14 that declares the disciple of Jesus is guided by a radical
inclusivity that breaches the exclusive boundaries imposed by culture
and religion.
Reframed in the metaphor of
blindness and sight:
Jesus shows us that blindness is religiously legitimated
exclusivity - and authentic sight
is a commitment to inclusivity
that crosses lines that marginalize and dehumanize others.
·
Last week,
in the Parable of the Father Full
of Grace as I call it, we discussed that grace is a dynamic power
that connects us with people from whom we are estranged.
Reframed in the
metaphor of blindness and sight:
Jesus shows us that blindness is deluding ourselves into thinking
that grace is something we deserve and others do not - and that
authentic sight is seeing
grace as an energy that works for reconciliation and the building of
community among diversity and conflict.
My dear friend Walter was
passionate about his stories.
He would tell them with a
twinkle in his eye, delight
in his voice, with animated
body language that revealed his sincerity.
Oh, that we would tell and embody the
story of Jesus with a similar
passion – with a twinkle
in our eye – with delight in
our voices – and with sincere and
animated body language of the gleeful dance God’s grace.
Oh, one more thing:
Luke’s gospel story is not over.
It’s been passed down to us, and we have been commissioned to
write new chapters with our lives.
The story continues on. . .
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