M & M's, Lyn G. Brakeman, Spiritual Lemons, blog post, 7/17/22

Now I imagine you think, as any sane well educated person in the area of treats would, that I will be writing about the famed candy called M&Ms. These are small round multi-colored, candy-coated chocolate candies that can pop into my mouth, and do—sometimes without my knowing it. Oh, they make them with dark chocolate, ever so much better for your health. And they also make them in bulk, so you’ll never run out. They, it is said, melt in your mouth but not in your hands.

These handy candies were invented in, where else, the United States of America, in 1941, brought here by the Mars company founder, Frank C. Mars, who copied the idea from soldiers who in the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) carried  British-made “Smarties”— chocolate pellets surrounded with a colored shell of hardened sugar syrup, which kept them from melting in warm climates. Possibly these little beauties saved lives. I mean imagine stopping a whole battle to share these with enemy soldiers. How could you fight after that?  I also consider this a brilliant idea for Sunday morning’s coffee hours—attracting people to your parish, dragged there through the joy of children with godly M&M's in mind. It’s gospel!

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I stand by my idea. However, I am really writing about Mary & Martha, popular sister siblings in the Christian New Testament. Luke’s gospel tells the famous story of Jesus’s visit to his good friends Lazarus’s house in Bethany, a small town to the east  of Jerusalem. Lazarus had two sisters, Mary and Martha. Martha, the elder and more loquacious, and Mary the dreamer. We all know such sibling pairs. I am like the non-domestic, introverted Mary who could in awe listen to some guru talk about God and prayer and other spiritual intensities, heedless of the time or the meal. My sister is more domestic, like Martha, bustling about in the kitchen preparing a lovely meal, and pissed at my lassitude. Even today she can cook a good meal. I married a man who cooks.  

To be serious, the real matter in the biblical story is women’s reactions to Jesus’s reaction in this story. Mary sits at his feet, soaking up his every word. Martha is in the kitchen, irritated with her sister for not helping. Jesus comments that Martha is distracted by many things and Mary “has chosen the better part.” What say you?  

On one of my preaching Sundays in a parish where I served as Priest Associate, I threw caution to the winds, read this Gospel story and opened it up to the congregation, saying “Well, what do you think?”  Dead silence. “It’s okay I’m inviting you to share your own thoughts and feelings about this story.”  More silence. One hand shot up, as if this were a schoolroom. I nodded for her to speak. “Well, I don’t like this story. Never have. Makes me angry. Why would Jesus put Martha down like that?”  And we were off and running. 

“Did Jesus think praying all day was more than important than hospitality? I bet they all ate Martha’s meal, especially Jesus. I’ve heard a lifetime of sermons on this story, and no preacher ever sides with Martha. Jesus must have had a huge ego? I’ve been to monastic retreats, and believe me, those monks and nuns spend lots of time running back and forth to the kitchen, preparing and serving meals in between quick trips to the chapel. Mary’s too passive, not my type. Well, Jesus sure started sibling rivalry here! Is this story even true? Sexist. In Bible study I heard that this was only Luke’s agenda—getting Gentiles to listen to Jesus. But why would they follow? Just to pray?  So not the real Jesus, right?  Look here (she taps her finger on her own Bible) — this footnote says that this story’s purpose is to tell us that Jesus was open to accepting women as his followers. What self-respecting woman would follow this guy? I bet God the Father set his son straight on this one. Are you kidding? “

Laughter. 

No one asked me what I thought. There were no scornful words, no sullen scowls, no grandstanding or lecturing, although a few just listened. I let this "homily-of-the-whole" go on for over 15 minutes. I was pretty sure I would have to move from the center aisle up into the pulpit to get their attention. My movement caused the hubbub to die down although the atmosphere crackled with energy. What to say? A traditional closing. 

 The Word of the Lord.

 Thanks be to God.

This back-and-forth conversation was lively and full of laughter— refreshing, and definitely the Word of the Lord. They were talking to each other, engaging with scripture as if it were their own story. It is.  

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And the M&M’s?  Each small morsel is the same on the inside. All are a different color on the outside. And all together they are irresistible—just like us. 

 

2020.03.29 Is Lazarus Raised From The Dead?

The biblical story in John's gospel about the raising of Lazarus, a man dead for over four days and by now stinking with rot in the tomb, according to the text, is what I might call the piece de resistance of gospel stories. Envision the headline!

But did it really happen? Who told you? The media always exaggerates? It’s a lie? Or is it gossip? Who would believe such a thing?  It is written. What for?

The family of Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary, in Bethany who had consistently offered Jesus a place to rest and dine while he was on the road as a missionary for the gospel, was now in dire need of his presence. Jesus was summoned and he came. He dropped the urgent task at hand—persuading his people of the loving purposes of their God— simply to comfort his best friends. To many, that action alone would be as unbelievable as the story of the raising of Lazarus.

Did it really exactly happen this way?  We need an explanation. Well, it was of course a literary device meant to foreshadow the resurrection of Christ.  What is truth and what is fact? You decide.

I will tell you what it means to me and why it is true to me. Jesus, at the height of his career, abandons his call from God, his ministry, his vocation to risk—risk—his life and reputation for dear friends. That I believe. Jesus saw Mary and Martha in deep grief. They begged him to help. He saw their need, but not only was it their need it was his own need. He wept in deep grief too. This I believe.

What Jesus did first was weep with them. Then he asked to see the burial place, something we often ask up front. Where is he? Can I see him or her? The ashes, the grave, the coffin, the body—any remnant of the dead beloved? There might be a mistake? Take me to see? Those gathered were silenced, awed by Jesus’s display of grieving love. He was supposed to be Messiah. They wanted a  miracle. They got love instead—Jesus vulnerable with his own loss and his own love. O God, what a wrenching helpless feeling if you have ever experienced such grief and love intimately together.

Jesus did what we all do. He looked up and he prayed. (John adds a bit of theological fringe talk, even scolding Martha for questioning his teaching and to believe the glory of God. Didn’t I tell you it would be revealed?) But Jesus prays.  He asks God directly, even remembering first to thank God, something I rarely remember to do myself. His prayer is strong.

“Lazarus come out!” Jesus shouts at the now opened tomb. Everyone waits.

The “dead” Lazarus emerges from the tomb. He staggers out, all bound by the burial clothes. You would think Jesus would have held a prayer service of thanksgiving, rejoicing, making sure the greater glory of almighty God was properly honored. Even a simple thanks would be acceptable. But no, Jesus orders those standing there agog: “Unbind him, and let him go!”

And that, my friends, is the point.