“Horses, Snow Monkeys, and Jesus, Oh My!”

First Congregational United Church of Christ

January 9, 2011

The Rev. Sharyl B. Peterson

Scripture Readings:  Luke 3: 1-22 (portions), Matt. 5: 13-16

            Today, the second Sunday in January, is observed as Baptism of Christ Sunday in most Christian churches.  It’s one of those days when we usually retell the story of Jesus going down to the banks of the Jordan River, being baptized by his cousin John, and then a Cecil B. DeMille or Steven Spielburgian scene ensues in which a white dove (symbolizing the Holy Spirit) comes down from Heaven, apparently lands on Him, and all the gathered crowd hears what seems to be God’s voice, saying, “This is my Beloved Son” (or, as The Message version of the Bible puts it even more beautifully, "You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life"). 

            And it’s a beautiful story, and all four of the Gospel-writers thought it was important enough to include in all four of their Gospels version of the story.  But sometimes we may wonder, what on earth does that have to do with me?  What does Jesus’ baptism have to do with mine – if anything?  Besides admiring it, what might we do – what ought we do – to live into – or live out of – this story?

            And I’m going to begin my suggested answer to those questions in a somewhat peculiar place – which is in our horse-pasture at home.  For those of you who are newer to our church-family, you need to know that Bob and I are the proud parents of two horses – an old, black mare named Bella, and a young chestnut gelding named Red Hawk.  We, the horses, and our dog live out on about six acres of land just east of Fruita.

It also helps to know that on our property is a fairly large pasture – about four acres in size, or roughly the footprint that our church property covers.  And we turn the horses out on pasture most days, so they can wander around and graze, even on the now-frozen grass, and enjoy being horses.  Usually, they spend most of their time in the north half of the pasture, because even with everything frozen, apparently they like the grass there better. 

            But several Saturdays ago, when Bob and I were out cleaning up the horses’ corral, we noticed that Bella and Hawk were doing something fairly unusual.  On that day, both horses were over on the south half of the pasture, and were grazing right up against the wire-fence that divides our neighbor’s land from ours.  We also noticed that just on the other side of the fence, lying stretched out on the ground, was our neighbor’s buckskin horse, whose name is Kipper.

            Now, we had noticed that Kipper hadn’t been doing very well the previous few weeks.  The mare with whom he had shared his pasture had been taken off to another farm at the end of November, and Kipper had not only been looking lonely, but downright haggard.

            One of the reasons he was looking haggard comes from the fact that horses are prey-animals by nature.  From the time of the earliest, small, fox-sized horse ancestors called Eohippus (who lived roughly 52 million years ago) to horses living in the present time, horses know in their bones – or at least in their genes – that when it comes to survival, they are the species more likely to be hunted and eaten than to be the ones doing the eating.  And so, part of the evolutionary process for horses has been that horses only sleep soundly (gets good REM sleep), if there is another horse nearby to watch his (or her) back.  That means, with the mare gone, Kipper was simply not getting any real sleep.

            But on that Saturday, something had changed.  However they had figured this out, it appeared that our two horses had volunteered to keep an eye out for any roaming lions or tigers or bears, and Kipper was blissfully, luxuriously stretched out and sleeping away.

What has struck Bob and me both about this behavior (which has continued each day all the horses are out on pasture) is what a lovely illustration it is of how horses live out community together.  Horses or not, Kipper needs Bella and Hawk, and apparently for some reason, they need him.

            Entirely coincidentally, a couple of days after the first time we noticed what was going on with the horses, Bob was leafing through some back issues of National Geographic, and pulled out some pictures of Japanese snow-monkeys (called saru in Japanese) that he showed to me.  Those of you who watched the Winter Olympics when it was broadcast from Nagano, Japan, and especially those of you who watched the snowboard half-pipe competition (remember Shawn White, the “Flying Tomato,” gold-medal winner?), may remember one of the “human-interest” bits that the newscasters inserted into the rest of the Olympic coverage for all the people who weren’t that interested in snowboarding.  This particular “human interest bit” was about these Snow Monkeys (or Japanese Macaques) that Bob showed me in the National Geographic piece.

            These monkeys have been the subject of considerable study because they live the farthest north in the world of any primates other than human beings.  But more than that, they exhibit some very unusual behaviors that other monkeys (and other animals) do not.

The Snow Monkeys live in the mountainous areas of Honshu, Japan, and during the winter, they migrate to a large hot-springs area there that is fed by a volcano called Shibu Onsen.  At the hot springs, the monkeys enjoy rolling snowballs, and having snow-ball fights with each other, and even more they enjoy bathing in the hot-springs.  Both the Olympics piece and the National Geographic article showed pictures of groups of monkeys lolling around in the water, looking like they’re all wearing big furry gray-brown parkas, and their bright red faces peering out from rims of fur, blinking up through the steam.  (Honestly, they don’t look all that different from January visitors to the hot springs in Ouray or in Glenwood, except that the monkeys appear to be slightly more warmly-dressed!)

Most of the time the monkeys just soak quietly, but – unlike human beings – periodically all the monkeys will rotate positions so the ones on the outside perimeter can get into the warmer inside spots, and vice versa.  These Snow Monkeys also apparently appreciate, and enjoy, community.

            In fact, it appears that horses – and snow-monkeys – and any number of other animal species know in some way deep in their biological cores something that the majority of human beings (at least, most of those living in industrialized countries) seem to have forgotten.  And that is that animals – including humans – are interdependent – and so, need each other – both to survive, and to thrive.  To put it theologically, nearly all animals – including human beings – must have community if they are to survive biologically… and – at least for human beings – if they are going to thrive spiritually.

            And that recognition is likely why in virtually every major world religion the principle of community is absolutely central.  It is likely why in virtually every major world religion there are long lists of rules about how we are to treat each other – and how we are not to treat each other – in order to create and preserve healthy community.  It is likely why in our particular faith – Christianity – it is the message of community – of sustaining, enhancing, nourishing community – that we see taught, and preached, and lived out, time after time, by the One we look to as the Way we are called by God to live.

            The centrality of this message about community may be why Luke’s telling of the story of Jesus’ baptism that we heard this morning is my favorite of the four Gospel versions of the story.  Because instead of focusing on the baptism of one individual – Jesus – and how important that was, Luke’s Gospel story focuses also on our baptisms as members of the human community.  Instead of focusing on the mysterious or supernatural elements of the story – the descending dove, the auditory voice of God – Luke’s Gospel focuses on concrete, practical ways in which we are supposed to treat each other.

            Today’s story begins by reminding us that John – who, you will remember, was Jesus’ cousin – was out living in the wilderness, “preaching a baptism of life-change leading to forgiveness of sins.”  Listen to that again:  “A baptism of life-change leading to forgiveness of sins.”

            And in today’s version of the story, when people start flocking to hear John , flocking down to the banks of the Jordan River, because John is the “new kid” in town, the new preacher in town, the weird guy offering a new message in his preaching, instead of congratulating or commending them, John rather surprisingly rips them up one side and down the other.  He calls them “vipers!”  He suggests that they’re sneaky … vicious … untrustworthy, just like snakes.  He tells them that they just don’t get what he – or God’s message – is really about.  And he tells them that a little ritual – a little water on their “snakeskins” – isn’t going to change anything that really matters.  He tells them “It's your life that must change, not your skin... What counts is your life.  Is it green and blossoming?  Because if it's deadwood, it goes on the fire."

            And when a few of the more curious start pushing him, and ask exactly what it means to change their lives, what does John tell them?  He says, that means that you share what you have – your coats, your food – with others, so they don’t suffer from cold, or from hunger.  He says, that means that you start being truly honest with each other – that you don’t cheat, or extort, or take advantage of, other people.  He says, that means that you help make other peoples’ lives better, safer, healthier, rather than frightening them, or dominating them, or trying to control them.

And when the people hear this fairly radical message, and they begin to wonder aloud whether John might be the Messiah – the One who is supposed to come and change everything – John answers them like this:  “No, you fools … I’m just the messenger.  I’m just paving the way… The main character in this drama, the One to whom I'm a mere stagehand, will ignite the … Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out.  He's going to clean house – make a clean sweep of your lives. He'll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he'll put out with the trash to be burned."  (And, we are told,) “there was a lot more of this—words that gave strength to the people, words that put heart in them.”

            Now, I don’t know how heartening those words could really have been for that crowd that day.  Even if they could get past the whole “brood of vipers” thing, it seems to me the threat of being “put out with the trash” by God might have put those audience members off just a little.

            To say nothing of the fact that John was challenging those folks’ basic operating principles.  He was challenging the tax-collectors and business-people to give up centuries-old practices, and to worry less about what they could get than about what they could give.  He was challenging the soldiers to use their brute power and strength to help, rather than to hurt, those they ruled over.  He was challenging everyone standing there on that river-bank to live differently than they had been living.  And he was challenging them not just to make new resolutions to live differently, but to actually do it!  Because it was only if they changed the way they were living – only if they truly embraced the good of the entire community, rather than simply looking after their own individual well-being – that God’s will (or yearning) could be accomplished in this world.

            It is the very same message that we heard in that short passage this morning from Matthew’s Gospel, where Jesus told the people who came to hear Him preach and teach – and who tells us:  "Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth.  If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness?  You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.  "Here's another way to put it: You're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept.  We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill.  If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you?  I'm putting you on a light stand.  Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine!  Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, our generous Father in heaven.”

            And Jesus didn’t just preach this message with His words, but with His life, as it is described in the Gospel accounts.  Jesus tells all of His would-be followers that one of the two most important commandments is this:  That you love your neighbor as you love yourself.  And then He shows them what that looks like, sitting down to meals with people no-one “decent” would even speak to.

            And Jesus doesn’t just have one-on-one conversations with individuals who may be interested in His message.  Instead, He preaches to huge crowds of people, he feeds huge crowds of people, he goes to community gatherings like parties, and weddings, and funerals – where He shares the Good News with all the people who are there.

            And when Jesus heals people, he usually describes or engages them in terms of their role in their community – as a leader of the synagogue … as a mother-in-law … as daughters … as sons.  For Jesus, healing others isn’t just about the healing of an individual, but about the healing of the entire network of whom that person is a part.

            On the final night of His life, instead of running away, or going off alone, Jesus spends it in community, with his community of friends, and He shares a community meal – what we call Communion –with them all.  And Jesus doesn’t pick one favorite person, or one unique successor to come after Him, and continue to spread His message.  He creates a group of followers – the disciples – us – to be with Him and learn from Him, and to pass the message on.  Jesus’ teachings – Jesus’ message – Jesus’ life – were all about the essentiality of community.

And so, as we move into this new year, I encourage all of us to give some real thought to the communities of which we are a part.  Which communities have we been baptized into?  Which communities have we chosen?  How and why is each of them important in our life?  How and why do we participate in, do we serve in, do we draw upon, each of those communities?

And what other communities might God – might Jesus – be calling us to enter into, in this time and place?  For example, tonight is our monthly Spiritual Movie Night, where we watch contemporary movies and reflect on what they have to do with us today.  It starts at 6:30, and is free, and includes free popcorn.  Might God be calling you to join that community, to learn, and to enjoy yourself in new ways?  For example, next Sunday night our church begins its two-week hosting of Room at the Inn – the evening housing program for people for whom there is no room at the Homeless Shelter.  If you’ve never participated in that program before, think about how Jesus might be able to use you in it this year.  And if neither of those are quite your cup of tea, may we all consider prayerfully and thoughtfully, what communities are each of us being called by our Christ to create, and nurture, and sustain?  May our calling, loving God be with us in our reflecting, in our discerning, and in our responding.  Amen.