8 Pentecost - 6 July 2008

8 Pentecost - 6 July 2008 - Proper 9A
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
James V. Stockton

I hope and pray that all of us had a happy and meaningful 4th of July holiday. Though ours is not a perfect land, it is indeed a good one. And part of the hard-won freedom that we enjoy is the very freedom to say that our nation is not perfect. So, I pray that we had a good holiday not dwelling on the criticisms but appreciating the good.

It has been said that when one’s only talent in life is criticism, that talent is best treated scripturally; i.e. it is best to bury it until the day the master returns. In their day, the disciples of Jesus remember that even for Jesus there is no pleasing the critics. I think it’s helpful for people to see how they can identify with this. Jesus’ critics find fault with everything that he does. If he heals someone of a terrible affliction, they argue that he does this on a day on which no such be doing such labor. If he feeds the hungry, his critics argue that he failed to tell them to wash their hands first. If he points to the good in a Gentile or a Samaritan, they argue that he’s speaking up for an outsider and ignoring his own kind. If he comforts the outcasts, his critics argue that he spends his time with people clearly forsaken by God. The disciples realize, as did Jesus before them, that there is no pleasing those determined to find something to criticize.


Have you ever felt this way? Have you ever felt that no matter what it is, there are people around who are just going to find fault with whatever you say, or whatever you do? The story is told of a salesman, Bob, who is visiting his barber, Sam, for a haircut. “I’m about to take a trip to London!” announces Bob. “Ugh! London,” Sam says. “What an overrated city that is.” “So, what airline are taking?” Sam asks. “I’m flying United,” Bob answers. And Sam launches into a litany of the ills of United Airlines. “Where are you staying when you get there?” asks Sam. “I’ll be at the St. Regis,” answers Bob. “Oh, that’s an overpriced pretentious old place,” remarks Sam. “You’d be better off just staying home,” he says as continues cutting Bob’s hair.

What do we do with people who just want to find fault and criticize? The reality is, no one is perfect. So, you’re not perfect, I’m not perfect. Certainly, our critics aren’t perfect. So, what do we do with people who insist on finding fault with everything we say, and everything we do? I hope it’s obvious, of course, that we involve God. We pray for our own discernment of their criticisms, because our critics may be right about some of what they say. If possible, we pray with our critics. And we let them know, if possible, that we’re trying to listen to whatever constructive and helpful insights they may have. And if need be, we stay away from our critics so that they don’t wear us down, and so that we don’t in return become critics of them. And so, for them, with them if possible, or from a distance when need be, we pray for our critics.

Back at the barbershop, Bob is telling Sam about the trip he’s planning to London. “The airline and the hotel are so unreliable, you’ll be better off not going,” whines Sam. “I’m looking forward to it, though,” says Bob. “I’m planning on closing a big business deal there, and I want to see the Archbishop of Canterbury while I’m there, too!” Sam continues his moaning. “Good luck trying to get any real business done in London,” he says. “And don’t think you can get in to see the Archbishop, either. “That only happens by appointment, and only for highly important people.” Bob remains quiet then, and just lets Sam finish cutting his hair.

Involving God with critics and criticism is perhaps more basic to the life of faith than people might first suppose. The story of Rebekah and Isaac in our Old Testament reading for this morning is important in its own right. It tells us of the divine influence in the two of the coming together of these two whose children will include the literal patriarch of the people of Israel. But in terms of the simple experience of critics and criticism, it tells us how involving God can help avoid all of that entirely. Abraham sends a servant back to the homeland to search for a wife for his son Isaac. Abraham might have drawn up a list of criteria, or Isaac might have consulted with the servant and told him, ‘Look for a pleasant appearance, not too short, not too tall, either; look for somebody who comes from a good family.’ Finally the servant himself, many miles away from his master, on his own now, could have used his own judgment. “She’s too loud. She’s too old. She’s too thin, she’s not thin enough.’ But criticism is too easy, and too often it’s insights are too shallow. And so it’s better left buried until another day. ‘Oh God,’ says the servant, ‘I’ll set aside my talent for criticism, and instead let you show me the right person.’ And God does exactly that.

In our experience of criticism, it’s good for us to involve God; especially when the criticism is our own. Our beloved Episcopal Church is not a perfect Church, but it is indeed a good one. Our beloved ECR is not a perfect parish, but we are indeed a good one. And so as the apostles of Jesus in their day come under great criticism for the same behaviors that inflamed the critics of Jesus, I pray that among those things that make our Church and our parish subject to critique, we will always give our critics reason to charge us with us caring too much for the outcast, with comforting too much the forsaken, with proclaiming too much God’s Love for all.

“I’m not the perfect Christian that I want to be,” laments the apostle Paul. “In my mind, I know what to do, and I want to do it. But somehow I find myself unable to carry it off all the time. I continue to prove to myself that I am just a wretched human being.” It’s possible, then, for the follower of Jesus to become his or her own worst critic. We’re not the perfect Church, we’re not the perfect parish. What then to do, or in Paul’s words, ‘who will rescue us?’ And maybe that’s the point. There is no way for you to rescue yourself, for me to rescue myself, for us to rescue ourselves from the criticism that we aren’t now, and never will be, perfect saints and holy people.

“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord,” says Paul. ‘Thank you, God,’ say we: ‘that greater than the fault that we find in ourselves or one another, is your mercy in Jesus Christ.’ And so the apostles remember, as do we today, that Jesus himself once said, ‘Thank you, Father.’ “Thank you,” says Jesus, “because you have revealed these things not to the wise and the intelligent, but to infants.” And maybe Jesus’ thankfulness is his gratitude for those among the crowds who are not wise enough, or perhaps are too wise, who are not smart enough, or perhaps are too smart, to surrender either to their critics or to their own ability to criticize.

Two months after his haircut, Bob returns to the barbershop. He tells Sam all about his trip. “Everything was wonderful,” says Bob. “The flight was perfect, the service at the hotel was excellent. I closed a big deal with my client; and I even got to meet the Archbishop of Canterbury!” “You got in to see the Archbishop?!” cries Sam. “How did it go?” “Well,” says Bob, “I bent down to kiss his ring and he put his hand on my head.” “What did he say?” asks Sam, “What did he say?” Bob answers: “He said, ‘My Son, where did you get such a bad haircut?’”

Within you and around you, within me and around me, and within and around the people whose lives we share, criticism is going to arise this week. And so God says in Jesus, ‘Come to me and lay down your burden of critiquing the world around you, and criticizing yourself.’ ‘Come to me,’ says God in Jesus, ‘all you who are tired, tired of being criticized, and tired of being a critic.’ God knows that you and I cannot do everything right, but God also knows that we cannot do everything wrong. ‘Come to me, says God in Jesus, ‘and know what I know: you aren’t a perfect people, but you’re mine; and you’re are good indeed.’

And so may Almighty God, who has granted us to serve God in freedom and in peace, bring us to share the blessings of civil liberty and diving grace in accordance with the glory and will of God; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, One God, now and for ever. Amen.

© 2008, James V. Stockton