But I Thought ...

This is my sermon from July 6, 2008

Wickedness and Righteousness are not always so clear cut. We think we know what they are and then we meet someone who confuses us or changes our minds. Sometimes we meet our own self and we find out what we were categorizing as righteousness is actually better defined as wickedness - or - that what we defined as wickedness is really more righteous than our righteousness.
Jesus was, and still is, difficult to categorize. The religious leaders of his time disagreed with the common folk, accusing Jesus of such things as being a leader of demons, being a drunkard, and carousing with prostitutes and other sinners. Jesus' followers, however, believed he was sent by God - that he was doing righteous and holy things. Today, when we actually read the words that are attributed to him, it's not always clear what he wants us to understand or learn.

Today I want to talk about expectations and how they become easily foiled - the expectations that Paul had for himself; the expectation of Jesus; the expectations of the writer of Ecclesiastes, and finally, our own expectations.

Let me speak to you for a moment as a Cubs fan. I know that not everyone in this room is a Cubs fan, and I'm not out to convert anyone. It's just that this year we have some high expectations. It's true that every year a Cubs fan has expectations, but this year they have become especially high. Not since 2003 have we been so hopeful. This year, when we swept the Sox at Wrigley Field, I was expecting us to at least win one game against them at Sox Park. Naive? Probably. But I'm a Cubs fan. I have these hopes and dreams and, yes, these expectations. I know that winning the World Series will not bring about the Kingdom of God, although I have heard one interpretation of the Lion laying down with the Lamb as the White Sox playing catch with the Cubs.

What about more serious subjects. What about racism? Now that we have a black man running for the office of the president, there are some folks who have the expectation that that means racism is a thing of the past. The black folks don't so much think this ... it's us white folks who have this idea. We want to say, "See, there is no racism. Look what that (mostly) black man has accomplished." Then, if we listen, we hear our dark skinned sisters and brothers pointing out the racism that they experience in their own lives.

A woman almost got the nomination. Does that mean that the fight against misogyny is over? Queer folks have their own parade. Does that mean the fight against heterosexism and homophobia is over? Jesus rose from the dead conquering sin and death. Does that mean our fight against sin and death is over?

It's just not how it works, is it? We think when we get to "this" certain place ... whatever that place is ... that it will be evidence that we've fought the good fight and won. When we finally get to "that" place, we find that our expectations haven't really been met. It's disappointing - sometimes disheartening.

Last week a woman named Esmin Green - a poor, black, mentally ill woman - was brought to a New York City hospital. She needed treatment. Have many of you heard about this in the news? It's a devastating story. She died on the floor of the hospital waiting room. It's recorded on the hospital's surveillance camera. She was lying on the floor for an hour. People walked by her, both medical personnel and other patients. No one helped her. No one cared enough about her because she was poor and black and mentally ill. One would think once you get to a hospital that you'll not die on the floor of the waiting room. One would think that once we have a black man running for president that this kind of thing would not happen to a black woman. One would think a lot of things ... and their, or rather our, expectations would be dashed.

I have a love/hate relationship with expectations. I know that they are practical to have, such as when you set goals or make plans. I had an expectation that I would preach here today. Some of you may have been expecting to see me here today. There's nothing wrong with making plans. I think it's the investment that we make in the plan that gets us into trouble. The higher the investment, the more disappointed we become when our expectations are foiled.

Think about the disappointment of Jesus' followers with each strike of the hammer as he was being nailed to the cross. They had invested everything in the idea that Jesus was the Messiah who would save them from their political and religious oppressions. Sometimes our expectations keep us from listening. Jesus never promised them freedom from the fight. He promised them the fight and that they could have peace and freedom while fighting.

The writer of Ecclesiastes seems to be saying, "You know, I thought the wicked were supposed to die young and the righteous were supposed to be wealthy and grow old. This isn't what I expected at all." We often overlay our expectations onto life. When someone is poor, they must not be working hard enough or they're not very smart. When someone uses a handicap spot, even if they have a handicap sticker in their car, but they have no discernable symptoms, we may assume they are a jerk. Disease looks like this and poverty looks like that and wealth looks like this other thing ... and so it goes.

Real life doesn't bear these things out, and then we struggle to reconcile our expectations with what is really happening around us. Paul struggles with this in Romans 7 when he says, "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do." He can't even reconcile his own actions with his core beliefs. And frankly, often, neither can we. In Matthew's gospel Jesus is perplexed and angry. People don't recognize what he thinks should be obvious - who John is and who he is. He sounds heartbroken me - heartbroken and angry. The character of Solomon struggles with disappointment in Ecclesiastes. He says, "When I applied my mind to know wisdom, and to see the business that is done on earth, how one's eyes see sleep neither day nor night, then I saw all the work of God, that no one can find out what is happening under the sun. However much they may toil in seeking, they will not find it out; even though those who are wise claim to know, they cannot find it out."

As we come to the Table today - as we commune together - what are our expectations of what this means? Can we, today, try to put away everything that we think we should think and feel about this? Can we peel away the layers of time and experience that may have dulled our ability to observe the moment and fully participate in the now? If we can do that here, in this vital ritual of our faith, can we then take it outside these walls and observe the now more fully as we live our day to day lives. If we can do that, might we know better who John the Baptist is? Might we recognize Jesus? Might we notice Esmin Green? Might we see each other, our neighbors, our friends, and our foes for who they are and not who we have decided them to be?

I think we will. And, I think if we give ourselves to this practice, we will also know ourselves a little better too. We will become less anxious about our expectations being met because we will have less investment in the expectations and more investment in observing what is right in front of us. I think this is one of the ways that we change the world - one of the ways that we usher in the Kingdom of God. The way is this - We live in now. We feel the power and the truth of now. We work and change things now. We love, now.