Expecting Justice? (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

We went to his office expecting Justice.

That was not a crazy thing to think, under the circumstances. My classmate and I had an interesting situation, but not a new one. These kinds of things happen from time to time, even to the best of people. Mistakes can be, and are, made. We're all human.

The situation: on the midterm exam, we both had answered the same question the same way. But, on my paper the answer was marked as correct. While on my classmate's paper, the same answer was marked as incorrect. To our thinking, the professor need only fix the mark on my classmate's paper and then adjust his overall midterm grade.

That is not how it went.

At first, once we had provided him the two exams and explained the problem, he just looked at us. At us, not at the exams. That silent stare of his lasted long enough to begin to feel uncomfortable. Then, still not looking at the exams, he said to us, "I don't change grades. You know this. I have stated this on several occasions. In fact, I make that announcement before every exam." [To be fair, what he always told us was, "I don't negotiate grades." I guess we were naive, but this didn't seem, at least to us, to fall under the term, "negotiate." This was an error, made either by him or by his grader. All we were asking was for a simple correction.]

There's no need to drag this out. Everything we said that afternoon was for nought. He was firm in his stance, and he never changed my classmate's grade. It was a profoundly disappointing experience, on many levels. He was an excellent Professor, the kind who makes the learning process come alive. To find he had this bizarrely obstinate side to him was a shock. We felt that we had been let down by someone we had, up until that moment, respected.

A strong social bond had been broken.

This experience came back to me as I read through this week's Lectionary scriptures. Most of this week's selections deal with God's shock and disappointment to discover His people had broken covenant, had broken the contract, if you will.

What contract, you ask?

Throughout history, God has repeatedly asked His people to provide justice for the weak, equal treatment for all, help for those in need, to speak God's word faithfully, for leaders (whether religious leaders or otherwise) to not mislead the flocks they shepherded. This list goes on and on. A reductionist might choose "equity" as the word that sums it up. However, I think we do ourselves a disservice to reduce it down.

We are not asked to merely ensure equity exists. We are asked to actively seek it and provide it. It is not enough to just check to see if people are being treated as they should be. God asks us to do something about it. Each of us.

In the Isaiah passage, God is deeply disappointed because "he expected Justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!" When you expect Justice, as did my classmate all those years ago, the disappointment is deep and lasting when you receive the opposite.

You could say, "Oh, it's just a grade, not something significant." But I would suggest it all depends on whether you're on the receiving end or not. Think of it this way: if it was so disappointing for "just a grade," how awful it must be for someone who expects fair treatment ---from the courts, from the marketplace, from the church, from neighbors, from the halls of government--- and finds the opposite, or at best, indifference.

Now you know how God feels about it.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 15 (20) (August 14, 2016)
First reading and Psalm
Isaiah 5:1-7
Psalm 80:1-2, 8-19
Alternate First reading and Psalm
Jeremiah 23:23-29
Psalm 82
Second reading
Hebrews 11:29-12:2
Gospel
Luke 12:49-56
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Join us if you can Friday morning at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. Lectionary Breakfast starts at 8:00 and goes for about an hour. We spend our time looking into the mind of God by reading scripture' we visit, discuss, and, yes, laugh.

Enjoy the week!
Steve

Winter Is Coming (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

I am not a winter person.

It's not much of a confession to anyone who knows me.

Granted, when I moved to the Boston area late one fall, the novelty of so much winter was pretty mesmerizing. At first. All the play aspects were attractive in those early days. The smell of burning wood and the smoke curling out of chimney-tops, the sight and joyful sounds of neighborhood kids playing broom hockey on our town's frozen pond, the beauty of snow blanketing everything in pristine whiteness.

There was great novelty in walking through the snow to church on a Sunday morning, and living next to the Charles River provided endless fascination as the "little muddy" formed ice shapes along its banks.

Before long, though, the harsher realities overtook the positives. Cars that wouldn't start, constantly falling down on slick surfaces, impassable roads, power outages, being late to everything; never, ever getting warm enough. And, worst of all, at least for me, that overwhelming claustrophobic sensation that it would never end. Because, if you don't live far enough north, you don't know about new snowfall in April, nor that the spring snows fall on top of snow that has been on the ground since January. And you don't realize that the snow may still be on the ground come May.

In George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones novels, the Stark family motto is "Winter is Coming." It conveys a sense of inevitability, the idea that winter cannot be avoided and must be prepared for; something through which each person must pass, something to overcome.

Where is the hope in that?

It was just these winter experiences that made me pause when I came across the passage in the Book of Job where God demands from Job, “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail,” (‭‭Job‬ ‭38:22‬ ‭NIV‬‬, http://bible.com/111/job.38.22.niv). The "storehouses of the snow" really caught my attention. Most scholars read that phrase as meaning a kind of place where God stores snow.

That's not how I read it. I see it as meaning snow is the storehouse. And I think I have a pretty good idea what is stored in the snow: hope.

Summer in New England, and the few weeks that bookend either side of it, is a lovely time. Very Robert Frost. So, when winter does finally end, everyone feels an uplift in spirit; joy fills every heart. A kind of collective amnesia overtakes, clouding the harsher memories of winter. But deep in the winter, people think of the spring to come, of the green grass, flowers, and the planting of gardens. They think of the warm days of summer and the coming, though still far off, harvest.

They have hope.

For they know that every inch of snow piled upon the ground throughout the winter is actually stored water, just waiting for spring to release it. Water that brings life to the land, the plants, the animals, and all of us humans who could not survive without it.

The Romans passage in this week's Lectionary selections talks about a "hope that does not disappoint." Such hope is more than just a wish; it's a confidence that good will come. The passage asserts that by enduring our sufferings, we will gain character, the kind of character that can hope, unreservedly, in the belief that our faith is not misplaced.

It is our storehouse of hope. And it will see us through the winter.
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Trinity Sunday (May 22, 2016)
First reading and Psalm
Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31
Psalm 8
Second reading
Romans 5:1-5
Gospel
John 16:12-15
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We have a hope that does not disappoint. Join us Friday mornings for Lectionary Breakfast at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. We meet at 8:00 for an hour that feeds us, both physically and spiritually, and from which we draw hope for the days ahead.

Enjoy the coming week!
Steve