Sunday, February 13, 2005

"When the Snowstorm Hits Eden"

Pastor Nagle
02/13/2005

“When the Snowstorm Hits Eden” Gen 2:15-17; 3:1-7 Mt 4:1-11 The First Sunday in Lent February 13, 2005
They’ve finally taken it off their website, but for a long time, a local television station had an open forum where people could comment on the traffic problems during last month’s paralyzing snow and ice storm. One day, I thought it would be fun to read those comments—never realizing that they would stretch to over 18 pages. Email after email full of blame and fury. Blistering comments about who was responsible for the gridlock. You remember the gridlock; maybe you were caught in the gridlock. Do you know who was at fault? I’ll tell you who! Yankees who think they’re the only drivers on the road. Southerners who distract the Yankees. The mayor was at fault. The school system was at fault. Nervous parents, high school drivers, cell phone companies, taxpayers who are too cheap to buy plows—the list went on and on. And maybe those who tried to assign the blame were right, maybe not. But in the end they seemed to feel better about their life, after making it clear who messed things up in the first place.
Such was the fallout from this morning’s first lesson. The finger-pointing wasn’t heard this morning; it comes in the verses that follow. But you well recall that Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the serpent and the serpent would have blamed God except that he didn’t have a leg to stand on. Literally. It’s the stuff some lawyers would love: Let’s sue everybody. Except for ourselves, of course, for we are never at fault. Not in any serious way, that is. We’re certainly not as responsible or as irresponsible as everyone around us. But like it or not, it’s a fact that a snowstorm in Eden is upsetting.
Which makes it a huge metaphor, I suppose. That sometimes in life, we get stuck. It may or may not have been expected. It may or may not be rectified. It may or may not be our fault. But when we get stuck, we can’t move. And when we can’t move, we can’t get where we want to be. And when we can’t get where we want to be, we’re frustrated. And angry. And more than willing to lash out at anyone and everyone around us. Have you ever been stuck in life? Are you stuck right now? What has you stuck this time may be different from what got you stuck some other time. The problems we face this time might not have been problems another time. But when life is gridlocked, when nobody’s moving, when life shuts down, there’s a problem. And any time I have a problem, I’m not happy. And when I’m not happy, somebody’s got to be held accountable. But since I’m not likely to hold myself accountable, I guess we’ll have to agree that it’s all your fault. And that’s what we call original sin.
Original sin. The snowstorms that come to Eden. The trouble that’s always been around. The problems that have always messed up life. The stuff that separates us from God. It all stems from selfishness—the idea that there’s no one in the world more important than I. And that for reasons of pride and security and strength, I can do what I want because I need to take care of myself. Never sure that anyone else will take care of me, I need to please me and look out for myself. Which makes one of the task force recommendations so impossible to carry out. You know what they said? To prevent gridlock, make sure you don’t block the intersection. Which makes perfect sense, but it won’t ever happen, because I think no one else is as important as I am, and if it seems to me that I can force my way past you through a light so close to turning red, if I can squeeze my too-big car into that too-little space, if I can get a jump on everyone else, I’m going to try it, just because I can. And besides, if I don’t block the intersection, someone else will. And just there is the selfishness and the temptation.
Temptation. It was a theme in our scripture lessons this morning. Adam and Eve knew about it in Eden. Jesus knew about it in the wilderness, when in a time of deep turmoil, he was confronted by Satan. Satanos is a Greek word that means The Tempter. Now, I see no need to describe temptation further. You know how it happens. In life, you’re given choices, and have to decide what direction you should take. So in the gospel story, Jesus was faced with choices. In the first one, he could have decided to care for his own needs, turning away from anyone and everything else in order to be totally self-sufficient. Do you know someone who is self-sufficient? Nothing totally wrong with that, but the danger is in becoming so impressed looking at yourself that you forget to see anyone else. But Jesus decided to worry less about himself and give more to others. And later, when he was offered the choice of whether or not to get conceited and make himself look good, Jesus decided in favor of humility. You know, it’s nice to be loved and honored and have people think you’re worth something. The problem comes when you start to believe what other people say, even when you know it isn’t true. And when you start to think that other people really are lucky to have known you. But making yourself look good at the expense of others is as wrong as the third temptation Jesus faced—the whole matter of setting the wrong priorities in life. While he could have chosen power and might and importance, Jesus turned down that temptation too, saying, Having all the kingdoms of the world, all the power in the world, all of everything in the world doesn’t come close to what’s really important. That’s what Jesus said. And scripture seems to tell us that we should follow that example of selflessness, instead of selfishness.
So when it’s time for a task force to formulate rules about how to deal with life’s storms and their potential gridlock in life, maybe all it needs to say is this: remember that it’s not all about you. Which seems harsh to some people who think it really is all about noticing and preserving and applauding them, over against the rest of the world which doesn’t seem to understand that and gets in the way. But if you can get rid of the temptation to assign blame—blame for your severe pain, blame for your broken marriage, blame for your job performance, blame for your addiction, blame for getting stuck, blame for getting in the way—how different life might appear.
And someone says, Hold on here. You want me to take responsibility for things. But for years, the trouble has been that I have been accepting responsibility. For everything. And my psychiatrist has finally gotten me to see that not everything is my fault. OK. There’s a fine line here. Not everything is your fault, and there’s no reason for you to be depressed over issues that aren’t really yours. Remember that it really isn’t all about you. But also remember that some things are your fault, and maturity and wisdom will help you see which those are. Sometimes, you started the problem, or you kept on with the problem, or you were happy to escalate the problem, because there’s something sinfully sweet about holding on to the sense that if others can be faulted, you need not be. Blaming others: it’s a matter of venom. The people who emailed the television station were generally full of venom. Angry, hateful, spiteful, poisonous venom which comes from the serpents we let run our lives. Is there something poisoning your life right now? Is there a snake in your Eden? Or a storm? Or an issue? And is it you? The temptation may come from outside you, but it’s addressed to you. And just there is the problem. What are you going to do about it?
In the gospel today, Jesus said, “Away with you, Satan.” And it all sounds so simple. When you’re faced with a temptation, any temptation, just turn away. But it’s never that easy, is it, especially since we’re talking about the troubles of life. Saying “Away with you, Satan” is more than just passing up a fattening dessert. It’s a matter of deciding who and what is ultimately in charge of your life. Jesus said, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him,” because he knew that once we start worshipping God, we’ll stop worshipping ourselves. Not that you ever worship yourself, exactly. But when you think that your highways should be free and clear of every obstruction, when you think others should give in to you, when you think that others are the root of your troubles, when you think that you are perfection and perfection is you, that comes pretty close to worship.
Which was the situation in Eden. Adam and Eve, everyone ever born, we all think the world revolves around us. Or should. And we bristle at the idea that we can’t do what we want. Even when what we want is ultimately harmful to us. When something better could be beneficial to us. For example, when God said, I don’t want you to eat from that tree in the center of the garden, he meant that he didn’t want us to have knowledge of good and evil. Was happy to give us knowledge of good, but didn’t want us to have knowledge of evil. But he knew that when we went too far looking for good, we’d see that the absence of good is evil. Would see that the absence of hope is despair. That the absence of joy is sadness. That the absence of life is death. Which is just what Adam and Eve found out in Eden. And isn’t that where trouble sometimes comes from—that we know too much? And that once the troubles are in front of us, that we have to decide how to deal with them? And that we don’t always deal with them well? That we don’t always deal with life well? The problem with the traffic gridlock was not the snow. It was with the way we dealt with the snow. The problems in life are not money or authority or sexuality or parenting or guilt or even temptation, but how we deal with money or authority or guilt or temptation. And the biggest temptation is to blame.
Because if we can blame someone else for what happens and the way things are, we can deny the responsibility we were meant to take. And we can maintain the fiction that we ourselves have no wrong, and are perfect. But if we have no wrong and are perfect, then why would we need God? The truth is that sometimes we act as if we don’t need God, and that’s what got Adam and Eve in trouble in the first place. So that, like them, whenever we deny the responsibility we should take, whenever we put the blame on others, whenever we fail to see what God intends, we’ve messed it up. And Eden no longer exists. If it ever did exist for us. Though it can exist for us, if we would turn again to God who in this Lenten season reminds us of what we should and should not do, reminds us of what we can and cannot do, and walks with us while we try to make sense of it all.
You know, we’re tempted to say that if Adam and Eve had just listened to God, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. We’re tempted to say that life’s problems are really their fault. But then, that’s what other people say about us, isn’t it? And are they right?

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