Sermon Acts 6:8-8:1
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Jan. 1, 2012
Each year our patron saint gets short shrift because his feast day falls on Dec. 26 and who is going to come to church the day after Christmas? It’s like having your birthday on Dec. 25. It gets lost in the bigger celebration. This year the Worship Committee decided to celebrate St. Stephen’s Day on Jan. 1, since today is a Sunday.
Stephen is our hero and a great one he is. We know a lot about him, since the Acts of the Apostles features him in its early chapters. He was one of the original seven chosen to be the first deacons. Their role was to relieve the apostles of the work of serving tables and caring for the widows. Stephen had abilities far beyond those tasks, for he was a preacher and a miracle worker so outstanding that he, like Jesus, threatened the power structure in Jerusalem, and, like Jesus, he was called before the Sanhedrin. There he preached the good news and confronted the Sanhedrin with the fact that they had manipulated Romans into killing the Son of God. This confrontation so inflamed the Sanhedrin that they took him outside and stoned him to death without a trial.
Stephen became the first martyr following in the steps of his Master. Then we saw something that was to be repeated many times in the early history of the Christian Community and memorialized with this saying. “The blood of martyrs is the seed of Christianity.” Following Stephen’s profession of faith and his lynching, a persecution against Christians broke out in Judaea, the first of many to come throughout the Roman Empire. As a result, many Christians left the Holy Land and scattered around the Mediterranean. They took their faith with them and began to convert both the Jews in those cities and most especially the Gentiles. When the persecutions came to those areas and other Christians were martyred the faith spread all the more, fed by the example of great faith shown in the martyrs.
A side story often hardly noticed in the account from Acts is the fact that a young Pharisee by the name of Saul stood by as Stephen was stoned. He did not actually participate but it says he approved.
This reminds us of another wise saying: “All that is required for evil to prevail is for good men and women to say and do nothing.”
Of course, following upon Stephen’s death young Saul became Paul, arguably the Apostle most responsible for the spread of Christianity throughout the empire. It took the appearance to him of Jesus on the road to Damascus and his being blinded before he got the message, however.
So what’s the message for us on this New Year’s Day, 2012? If you are in to New Year’s resolutions, even if you are not, let me suggest a resolution to witness your faith this year and every year. It’s harder to know how to do that, compared with Stephen’s time and the price you pay will likely not be a dear as his. I think we witness by doing the right thing, the honest thing, even when we get ridiculed for it. We witness by doing the loving thing, the caring thing, especially when we don’t get on TV for it. We witness by forgiving those who have offended us, as did Stephen, following the example of his Master, just before he was put to death.
It is one thing for people to remain quiet and not protest against evil. It is quite another thing for people to use the guise of Christianity to teach hatred against those with whom they disagree. It’s amazing to see people say I am a Christian or even naming their denomination and with that dubious justification, lashing out at others, advocating death, supporting war and the denial of basic rights guaranteed under our constitution.
We witness for Christ when we teach His message as found in the New Testament, whenever and wherever we can. It is really up to each one of us to decide what we believe his message is and not to let someone else, even one’s priest, determine what that is. So how about this for an expanded Every Year resolution: “To witness for Christ wherever and whenever I can and to listen to the New Testament in order to know what His message really is?
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Amazing Peace
Sermon: Lk 2:1-20, Christmas Eve, 2011
Each Christmas Eve after reading that beautiful passage from the Gospel of Luke, I feel inadequate to add anything to it by preaching a sermon. It seems to speak for itself and I fear I diminish its power by commenting on it. So, this year I present you with a Christmas poem instead of a sermon.
Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightening rattles the eves of our houses.
Floodwaters await in our avenues.
Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and gray and threatening.
We question ourselves. What have we done to so affront nature?
We interrogate and worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?
Into this climate of fear and apprehension Christmas enters.
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.
It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightening sleeps quietly in the corner.
Floodwaters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.
Hope is born again in the faces of children.
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth, brightening all things.
Even hate, which crouches breeding in dark corners.
In our joy we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness. The word is Peace.
It is loud now. Louder than the explosion of bombs.
We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.
We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon the good season to wait awhile with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.
Come and fill our world with your majesty.
We the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confusian,
Implore you stay awhile with us
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.
It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.
On this platform of peace we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.
At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues the coming of hope.
All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.
We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Nonbelievers.
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves,
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation:
Peace, My Brother. Peace, My Sister. Peace, my Soul.
No, I am not the author of this poem. It was written by
Maya Angelou and delivered at the lighting of the national Christmas tree at the White House, Dec. 1, 2005.
These are my sentiments for you, however, for us all.
Peace, My brother. Peace, My Sister. Peace, My Soul.
Each Christmas Eve after reading that beautiful passage from the Gospel of Luke, I feel inadequate to add anything to it by preaching a sermon. It seems to speak for itself and I fear I diminish its power by commenting on it. So, this year I present you with a Christmas poem instead of a sermon.
Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightening rattles the eves of our houses.
Floodwaters await in our avenues.
Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and gray and threatening.
We question ourselves. What have we done to so affront nature?
We interrogate and worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?
Into this climate of fear and apprehension Christmas enters.
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.
It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightening sleeps quietly in the corner.
Floodwaters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.
Hope is born again in the faces of children.
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth, brightening all things.
Even hate, which crouches breeding in dark corners.
In our joy we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness. The word is Peace.
It is loud now. Louder than the explosion of bombs.
We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.
We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon the good season to wait awhile with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.
Come and fill our world with your majesty.
We the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confusian,
Implore you stay awhile with us
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.
It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.
On this platform of peace we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.
At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues the coming of hope.
All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.
We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Nonbelievers.
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves,
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation:
Peace, My Brother. Peace, My Sister. Peace, my Soul.
No, I am not the author of this poem. It was written by
Maya Angelou and delivered at the lighting of the national Christmas tree at the White House, Dec. 1, 2005.
These are my sentiments for you, however, for us all.
Peace, My brother. Peace, My Sister. Peace, My Soul.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Thanks for the Tragedy
Isaiah 64:1-9
Sermon given at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Advent 1, 11-27-11
It is the first Sunday of Advent and we have our new Advent wreath to announce it, as well as the color purple on the altar, on my back and on the pulpit. For these four weeks we prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ at Christmas. It is the time in the church year when we put ourselves in the mindset of the Old Testament, those long centuries when the Jewish people were being prepared for the coming of the Messiah. We hear an echo from that period in today’s reading from the Prophet Isaiah:
From ages past no one has heard, nor ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who works for those who wait for him.
I think it appropriate that we return to Rite I in our prayer book for these four weeks, because, with its emphasis on the commandments and its use of old English it is reminiscent of the Old Testament period. Rite one was kept in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer because it very closely resembles the Holy Communion service from the 1928 prayer book. And it is the special request of those attending Adult Sunday School, where we have been studying the BCP, its history and its culture. As I recall, the request by that group to use Rite I for Advent was near unanimous.
Having said all that, I must admit to a reluctance to start Advent with this the first Sunday of the new church year. For goodness sake, it isn’t even Dec. yet. I’m still back with Thanksgiving, our great American holiday, or is it a holyday? Even the advertising feeding frenzy of black Friday hasn’t blotted Thanksgiving out. So, with your forbearance I’m going to preach about thankfulness; I don’t think it is the least bit incompatible with a penitential season like Advent.
Remember the Bernie Madoff Ponzi scheme? Mr. Madoff constructed this elaborate financial pyramid, all built on a lie. Many people, lured by the unbelievably high return on their money, invested with him and lost their life savings because they believed his lie. Bernie, who bilked people out of billions of dollars, is now doing about a million years in prison. One of those he cheated, Kim Rosen, was wiped out financially. In their book entitled “The Grateful Heart” Wilkie and Noreen Au tell Kim’s amazing story of gratitude for the tragedy. These are her words:
“When I lost my life savings I found myself opened to life’s simple wonders in a way I had never experienced before. It is not conditional, not based on having something, money or security or health, as opposed to not having it.”
In other word, she is saying, I used to think I would be happy if I had so much money put away, was totally secure and had perfect health. Now I realize my happiness was and is not dependent on those things. I have found happiness in life’s simple wonders. She developed an attitude of gratitude.
I think most of us think of gratitude in the context of being thankful for something concrete we have been given. The scriptures, in fact, sometimes encourage that view. When Jesus healed people many of them, but not all, expressed gratitude for the return to health. That was something concrete. Others, though, went further. They expressed gratitude for his acceptance of them, His gift of salvation to them. Often these were people who society was not likely to accept. There was Zacchaeus, the short little tax collector up in the tree. Jesus spotted him and told him he wanted to dine in his home that night. Zacchaeus was so excited he fell out of the tree and so grateful he said he would give half his possessions to the poor and anyone he had defrauded he would give it back to them four times over. Obviously, he hadn’t involved himself in a Ponzi scheme like Madoff or he wouldn’t have had the funds to do that.
Then there was the Samaritan woman at the well with the shady past. Jesus let her know He knew of the many men in her life, but accepted her by speaking to her and asking for a drink. She became so enthused by this gift of salvation that she announced to all who would listen that she had met the Messiah.
These are impressive stories but they don’t quite show the spiritual depth of Kim Rosen who appreciated what the loss of her investments did for her. The closest I can come from biblical stories is the good thief on the cross next to Jesus. He is the only one that Jesus said anything like what he heard: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Why did he get that kind of response? Because he asked for forgiveness. I wonder if he had time to appreciate that this situation would not have occurred if he had not been sentenced to death.
God is able to bring victory out of apparent defeat, but we have to cooperate. The way we cooperate is to be mindful, to try to be aware of what is going on in our lives and of those around us. To realize that wealth or a certain relationship or all those things being pushed on Black Friday do not bring happiness. One does not have to lose all of one’s retirement like Kim Rosen or be at the point of death like Dismas the Good Thief to have this attitude of gratitude. We can develop it now.
Are the kind of situations of which I speak very rare? I think not. I challenge you to go out of here today and think about times in your own lives when you lost what you cherished, what you thought was the only thing that would make you happy. Maybe it was someone you thought you would marry or did marry. Maybe it was a job or a business investment. Maybe it was getting into a certain college or buying a big new home or getting to stay in that home. Think about that loss and ask yourself “Am I better off or worse off spiritually as a result of that loss? The answer might surprise you and turn your life around.
Sermon given at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Advent 1, 11-27-11
It is the first Sunday of Advent and we have our new Advent wreath to announce it, as well as the color purple on the altar, on my back and on the pulpit. For these four weeks we prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ at Christmas. It is the time in the church year when we put ourselves in the mindset of the Old Testament, those long centuries when the Jewish people were being prepared for the coming of the Messiah. We hear an echo from that period in today’s reading from the Prophet Isaiah:
From ages past no one has heard, nor ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who works for those who wait for him.
I think it appropriate that we return to Rite I in our prayer book for these four weeks, because, with its emphasis on the commandments and its use of old English it is reminiscent of the Old Testament period. Rite one was kept in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer because it very closely resembles the Holy Communion service from the 1928 prayer book. And it is the special request of those attending Adult Sunday School, where we have been studying the BCP, its history and its culture. As I recall, the request by that group to use Rite I for Advent was near unanimous.
Having said all that, I must admit to a reluctance to start Advent with this the first Sunday of the new church year. For goodness sake, it isn’t even Dec. yet. I’m still back with Thanksgiving, our great American holiday, or is it a holyday? Even the advertising feeding frenzy of black Friday hasn’t blotted Thanksgiving out. So, with your forbearance I’m going to preach about thankfulness; I don’t think it is the least bit incompatible with a penitential season like Advent.
Remember the Bernie Madoff Ponzi scheme? Mr. Madoff constructed this elaborate financial pyramid, all built on a lie. Many people, lured by the unbelievably high return on their money, invested with him and lost their life savings because they believed his lie. Bernie, who bilked people out of billions of dollars, is now doing about a million years in prison. One of those he cheated, Kim Rosen, was wiped out financially. In their book entitled “The Grateful Heart” Wilkie and Noreen Au tell Kim’s amazing story of gratitude for the tragedy. These are her words:
“When I lost my life savings I found myself opened to life’s simple wonders in a way I had never experienced before. It is not conditional, not based on having something, money or security or health, as opposed to not having it.”
In other word, she is saying, I used to think I would be happy if I had so much money put away, was totally secure and had perfect health. Now I realize my happiness was and is not dependent on those things. I have found happiness in life’s simple wonders. She developed an attitude of gratitude.
I think most of us think of gratitude in the context of being thankful for something concrete we have been given. The scriptures, in fact, sometimes encourage that view. When Jesus healed people many of them, but not all, expressed gratitude for the return to health. That was something concrete. Others, though, went further. They expressed gratitude for his acceptance of them, His gift of salvation to them. Often these were people who society was not likely to accept. There was Zacchaeus, the short little tax collector up in the tree. Jesus spotted him and told him he wanted to dine in his home that night. Zacchaeus was so excited he fell out of the tree and so grateful he said he would give half his possessions to the poor and anyone he had defrauded he would give it back to them four times over. Obviously, he hadn’t involved himself in a Ponzi scheme like Madoff or he wouldn’t have had the funds to do that.
Then there was the Samaritan woman at the well with the shady past. Jesus let her know He knew of the many men in her life, but accepted her by speaking to her and asking for a drink. She became so enthused by this gift of salvation that she announced to all who would listen that she had met the Messiah.
These are impressive stories but they don’t quite show the spiritual depth of Kim Rosen who appreciated what the loss of her investments did for her. The closest I can come from biblical stories is the good thief on the cross next to Jesus. He is the only one that Jesus said anything like what he heard: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Why did he get that kind of response? Because he asked for forgiveness. I wonder if he had time to appreciate that this situation would not have occurred if he had not been sentenced to death.
God is able to bring victory out of apparent defeat, but we have to cooperate. The way we cooperate is to be mindful, to try to be aware of what is going on in our lives and of those around us. To realize that wealth or a certain relationship or all those things being pushed on Black Friday do not bring happiness. One does not have to lose all of one’s retirement like Kim Rosen or be at the point of death like Dismas the Good Thief to have this attitude of gratitude. We can develop it now.
Are the kind of situations of which I speak very rare? I think not. I challenge you to go out of here today and think about times in your own lives when you lost what you cherished, what you thought was the only thing that would make you happy. Maybe it was someone you thought you would marry or did marry. Maybe it was a job or a business investment. Maybe it was getting into a certain college or buying a big new home or getting to stay in that home. Think about that loss and ask yourself “Am I better off or worse off spiritually as a result of that loss? The answer might surprise you and turn your life around.
A Thanksgiving Message
I write this before Thanksgiving; you will read it after Thanksgiving. When you read it we will already be in Advent with our new Advent Wreath glowing beside the altar as we prepare with renewed hope for the coming of Christ at Christmas. We will also be bringing our Stewardship campaign to what we hope is a successful completion.
For these reasons and many more I wish to linger on the subject of thanksgiving. When we were growing up our parents taught us to say thanks when someone gave us something or did something for us. In turn, we have taught our own children and maybe grandchildren to do the same. Jesus was referring to this when he healed the twelve lepers and only one returned to thank Him. “Where are the other eleven?” He said. (Luke 17: 11-19)
There is a deeper and broader gratitude than simply saying thanks for individual acts of kindness, however. It is a pervasive and spiritual appreciation of the world around, of one’s own existence, of loved ones and of fellow human beings. A good word for it is “gratefulness.” A way of life. A way of relating to God. Meister Eckhart, the German mystic, has commented “If the only prayer you say is thank you, that would be enough.
Bella Brown has said it this way: “All our senses are given to us to enjoy and to praise God. The smell of the sea, the blossom borne on the wind, the soft touch of a little baby, the taste of ripe plum or bread fresh from the oven, the feel of warm cat’s fur or the body of a lover—these are all forms of thanksgiving prayer.
This gratefulness may extend not only to successes and joys but to failures, challenges and trauma. I was grateful to see my barber last week. He is suffering from a chronic and life-threatening condition. Before he near scalped me, I asked him how he was and he said, “I am vertical and for this I am grateful.” Then I realized he had greater reason to be grateful than even I and my reasons are legion.
Give thanks to him, bless his name,
For the Lord is good.
His steadfast love endures forever
And his faithfulness to all generations. Psalm 100 100 John+
For these reasons and many more I wish to linger on the subject of thanksgiving. When we were growing up our parents taught us to say thanks when someone gave us something or did something for us. In turn, we have taught our own children and maybe grandchildren to do the same. Jesus was referring to this when he healed the twelve lepers and only one returned to thank Him. “Where are the other eleven?” He said. (Luke 17: 11-19)
There is a deeper and broader gratitude than simply saying thanks for individual acts of kindness, however. It is a pervasive and spiritual appreciation of the world around, of one’s own existence, of loved ones and of fellow human beings. A good word for it is “gratefulness.” A way of life. A way of relating to God. Meister Eckhart, the German mystic, has commented “If the only prayer you say is thank you, that would be enough.
Bella Brown has said it this way: “All our senses are given to us to enjoy and to praise God. The smell of the sea, the blossom borne on the wind, the soft touch of a little baby, the taste of ripe plum or bread fresh from the oven, the feel of warm cat’s fur or the body of a lover—these are all forms of thanksgiving prayer.
This gratefulness may extend not only to successes and joys but to failures, challenges and trauma. I was grateful to see my barber last week. He is suffering from a chronic and life-threatening condition. Before he near scalped me, I asked him how he was and he said, “I am vertical and for this I am grateful.” Then I realized he had greater reason to be grateful than even I and my reasons are legion.
Give thanks to him, bless his name,
For the Lord is good.
His steadfast love endures forever
And his faithfulness to all generations. Psalm 100 100 John+
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Who's Up First?
Sermon: Joshua 3:7-17, Matthew 23:1-12
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 30, 2011
When I was a kid growing up in small town America in the 40’s we used to have pickup baseball games in the big yard across the street from my house. It was a big deal as to who got to bat first and we would compete to see who got to. We didn’t realize at the time that it was more prestigious to bat third or even fourth, the cleanup spot. Those are the positions the Miguel Cabreras and the Albert Pujols of the world bat. Actually, I don’t think it was so much about the prestige of being first as it was the idea that if you batted first in the lineup you would get to bat more often. Little boys are competitive, big boys are competitive and many girls are competitive, as well. That’s not necessarily bad, but it’s just that sometimes the competitiveness is self-defeating, especially when you are actually competing against the members of your own team to see who is best in a sport that is a team sport, like baseball. Sometimes we can forget that we need the other members of the team in order to win.
Much is made of how many games a pitcher wins in one season, like Justin Verlander this season, who won 24, but Justin wouldn’t have won a single game if his team didn’t get at least one run for him. Well, they say for that reason maybe the ERA, the earned run average, is a better evaluation of a pitcher’s performance. Yes, but the ERA depends partly on how well the other members of your team play on defense behind you.
This meandering does relate to today’s Gospel, in case you’re wondering. Jesus is once again castigating the Pharisees for their arrogance. Now the Pharisees were not bad people. They were law-abiding to the point of ridiculousness. They had performed and were performing an important role for the Jewish nation. Their emphasis on the law of Moses provided the people with a clear and proud identity in opposition to the other nations around them, especially their Roman conquerors. But… they tended to take themselves too seriously, believing their press clippings,as it were, and looking down on the other members of society who were perhaps not so well educated in the law or so law-abiding. They didn’t see themselves as team players, who needed the other people. That’s why Jesus keeps stressing, as he does in today’s Gospel, “All who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
I believe the true team players are the ones who step up and do what they are called to do without having to bask in the glory or live to see the results of their efforts. Moses was one such. Today’s reading from the Book of Joshua is a continuation of last Sunday’s reading from the Book of Deuteronomy. Last Sunday God takes Moses to a high mountain; He does that a lot. He shows him the Promised Land that had been the goal of the 40 years’ journey in the desert. Because Moses had doubted God at one point he was not to be allowed to enter the Promised Land, but he sees it all. Then he dies, having fulfilled the work he was called to do. It is Joshua his lieutenant who will get the glory. In today’s reading they cross the Jordan into Canaan. Soon Joshua will fit the battle of Jericho and the walls come tumbling down. Joshua takes them home.
Isn’t it interesting that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, the great leader, for a time, of the American Civil Rights Movement, used the Moses imagery in his final speech. On April 3, 1968, in Memphis Tenn. He spoke the following words:
“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountain top and I don’t mind. Like anybody I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you but I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
He was assassinated the next day and the gauntlet was passed to others. Many other people were involved, had given and would give their lives. He stepped forward at a time when he was needed and rather reluctantly, just as Moses had asked out when God called him. In both cases the movements went on to achieve their goals, at least partially. Dr. King did not get to see the passage of the Civil Rights and Voting acts, just as Moses did not see the building of the Temple in Jerusalem. They stepped up, did their part, and moved on, as team players do. Oh, there are monuments to them. Michelangelo chiseled a famous statue of Moses which you can see in a church in Rome. And a new monument has been erected in Washington D.C. to Dr. King. But the real monuments are the cause of freedom and equality which they championed, the establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth.
The question for us: are we ready and willing to step up and do our part to forward the Kingdom? Are we team players, not needing to bat first and get the glory, knowing that HE accomplishes so much more if WE work together.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 30, 2011
When I was a kid growing up in small town America in the 40’s we used to have pickup baseball games in the big yard across the street from my house. It was a big deal as to who got to bat first and we would compete to see who got to. We didn’t realize at the time that it was more prestigious to bat third or even fourth, the cleanup spot. Those are the positions the Miguel Cabreras and the Albert Pujols of the world bat. Actually, I don’t think it was so much about the prestige of being first as it was the idea that if you batted first in the lineup you would get to bat more often. Little boys are competitive, big boys are competitive and many girls are competitive, as well. That’s not necessarily bad, but it’s just that sometimes the competitiveness is self-defeating, especially when you are actually competing against the members of your own team to see who is best in a sport that is a team sport, like baseball. Sometimes we can forget that we need the other members of the team in order to win.
Much is made of how many games a pitcher wins in one season, like Justin Verlander this season, who won 24, but Justin wouldn’t have won a single game if his team didn’t get at least one run for him. Well, they say for that reason maybe the ERA, the earned run average, is a better evaluation of a pitcher’s performance. Yes, but the ERA depends partly on how well the other members of your team play on defense behind you.
This meandering does relate to today’s Gospel, in case you’re wondering. Jesus is once again castigating the Pharisees for their arrogance. Now the Pharisees were not bad people. They were law-abiding to the point of ridiculousness. They had performed and were performing an important role for the Jewish nation. Their emphasis on the law of Moses provided the people with a clear and proud identity in opposition to the other nations around them, especially their Roman conquerors. But… they tended to take themselves too seriously, believing their press clippings,as it were, and looking down on the other members of society who were perhaps not so well educated in the law or so law-abiding. They didn’t see themselves as team players, who needed the other people. That’s why Jesus keeps stressing, as he does in today’s Gospel, “All who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
I believe the true team players are the ones who step up and do what they are called to do without having to bask in the glory or live to see the results of their efforts. Moses was one such. Today’s reading from the Book of Joshua is a continuation of last Sunday’s reading from the Book of Deuteronomy. Last Sunday God takes Moses to a high mountain; He does that a lot. He shows him the Promised Land that had been the goal of the 40 years’ journey in the desert. Because Moses had doubted God at one point he was not to be allowed to enter the Promised Land, but he sees it all. Then he dies, having fulfilled the work he was called to do. It is Joshua his lieutenant who will get the glory. In today’s reading they cross the Jordan into Canaan. Soon Joshua will fit the battle of Jericho and the walls come tumbling down. Joshua takes them home.
Isn’t it interesting that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, the great leader, for a time, of the American Civil Rights Movement, used the Moses imagery in his final speech. On April 3, 1968, in Memphis Tenn. He spoke the following words:
“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountain top and I don’t mind. Like anybody I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you but I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
He was assassinated the next day and the gauntlet was passed to others. Many other people were involved, had given and would give their lives. He stepped forward at a time when he was needed and rather reluctantly, just as Moses had asked out when God called him. In both cases the movements went on to achieve their goals, at least partially. Dr. King did not get to see the passage of the Civil Rights and Voting acts, just as Moses did not see the building of the Temple in Jerusalem. They stepped up, did their part, and moved on, as team players do. Oh, there are monuments to them. Michelangelo chiseled a famous statue of Moses which you can see in a church in Rome. And a new monument has been erected in Washington D.C. to Dr. King. But the real monuments are the cause of freedom and equality which they championed, the establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth.
The question for us: are we ready and willing to step up and do our part to forward the Kingdom? Are we team players, not needing to bat first and get the glory, knowing that HE accomplishes so much more if WE work together.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Many Faces of Love
Sermon: Matthew 22:34-46
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 23, 2011
In the Gospel reading Jesus is asked which is the greatest commandment in the law. We should thank that Pharisees for asking the question because it provided the stage for this great teaching. I believe it is Jesus’s greatest teaching, encapsulating everything else He taught and lived. He answered “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment.” He is quick to add “and the second is like it. Love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
Okay, let’s go through this passage with a fine tooth comb. I used to think this was a brand new teaching by Jesus, but it is not. These two commandments are found in the Hebrew Scriptures, which we Christians call the Old Testament. The first, love of God, is found in Deuteronomy and the second, love of neighbor, is found in Leviticus. The wording in Deuteronomy is slightly different. It says Love God with “all your might.” In Matthew it reads “with all your mind.” I personally like “might” over “mind.” It implies that we love God with all our resources: money, power and energy. Whereas “mind” kind of implies just thinking love.
So, if these commandments are not new, what’s the big deal?
There are several big deals, really big deals. One big deal is that Jesus tied the two separate commandments together, coming as they did from separate books. He taught that you show your love of God by how you love your neighbor. In another place He asked “how can someone say they love God, whom they do not see and hate their neighbor, whom they see every day?”
Another big deal is the answer to the question “who is my neighbor?” The Old Testament meaning is that neighbor is my own people. Those writers of the Torah, the first five books, were talking about love of fellow Hebrews. Yes, we take for granted that parents, if they are at all normal, will love their children and the other members of their own family. The God that Moses represented was trying to get them to love their fellow Hebrews, those outside their own family, but still members of their own tribe. The aspect of God presented in the Old Testament is a god championing the Hebrews and helping them prevail against their enemies. The big deal about Jesus’ teaching is that He broadened the interpretation of neighbor, actually universalized it. When asked by a seeker “Who is my neighbor?” He told the parable of the Good Samaritan. Samaritans were the hated and avoided-at-all cost neighbors of the Jews, considered half-breeds and apostates from the true religion. So if Samaritans are my neighbor then everybody is. That’s the big deal; everybody is, no matter what their color, what language they speak, what religion they practice, or their sexual orientation. Everybody is. Sure, the people next door with whom we have so much in common that we even share child-rearing, those are our easy-to-love neighbors. But the people on the other side of the house, where we have the high fence, the ones who are so different? We hardly know them at all, but we know for sure we don’t approve of their life-style. They’re our neighbors, too, and we are commanded to love them. This is not just a suggestion; it is a commandment. That commandment is not just about the people next door, of course; it is about the whole world.
Now let’s look at that second commandment again. It say “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” Which means we are commanded to love
ourselves. One way to look at that is that we first have to love ourselves before we are able to love anyone else. Another way to look at it is that by loving others we are able to arrive at a deeper love of ourselves.
A woman at the healing service this past Wednesday asked if it was wrong to pray for oneself. Holy Cow! I think that many Christians, myself included, have felt they are being selfish by looking out for their own needs. That can’t be true, unless we are the only ones we look out for. The commandment is we are to love both ourselves and others. That means we have to care for ourselves; otherwise we are no good for anybody else. One of the ways we care for ourselves is by caring for others. At least some of them will care back, will love back. Unless we love ourselves, we will not have the strength to practice tough love, that kind of love which motivates us to draw lines in the sand and to say no when it is clearly in our own best interest and that of the loved one in question to not do what they demand.
And finally, the love that Christ commands does not mean necessarily liking the neighbor, although sometimes when we do for or care for another or maybe just pray for them they somehow become more likable.
During the American League Baseball Playoffs, those who were following the Tigers on TV with great hope undoubtedly noticed this commercial. I know I did. In a light sort of way it exemplifies what I have been trying to say. There are a series of little scenes: oh, a guy has a good deed done for him; then at the market he steps back and let’s a young mother with a shopping cart full of groceries and a child in tow go ahead of him; then that young woman is later out in her yard raking leaves when she sees her older neighbor struggling with her leaves and goes over and helps her; this is witnessed by a man who goes to his office and cleans up a mess on the floor of the coffee room; this is witnessed by the secretary who would usually have to do that and she goes out and does a good deed for someone else. That chain reaction would change the world.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 23, 2011
In the Gospel reading Jesus is asked which is the greatest commandment in the law. We should thank that Pharisees for asking the question because it provided the stage for this great teaching. I believe it is Jesus’s greatest teaching, encapsulating everything else He taught and lived. He answered “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment.” He is quick to add “and the second is like it. Love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
Okay, let’s go through this passage with a fine tooth comb. I used to think this was a brand new teaching by Jesus, but it is not. These two commandments are found in the Hebrew Scriptures, which we Christians call the Old Testament. The first, love of God, is found in Deuteronomy and the second, love of neighbor, is found in Leviticus. The wording in Deuteronomy is slightly different. It says Love God with “all your might.” In Matthew it reads “with all your mind.” I personally like “might” over “mind.” It implies that we love God with all our resources: money, power and energy. Whereas “mind” kind of implies just thinking love.
So, if these commandments are not new, what’s the big deal?
There are several big deals, really big deals. One big deal is that Jesus tied the two separate commandments together, coming as they did from separate books. He taught that you show your love of God by how you love your neighbor. In another place He asked “how can someone say they love God, whom they do not see and hate their neighbor, whom they see every day?”
Another big deal is the answer to the question “who is my neighbor?” The Old Testament meaning is that neighbor is my own people. Those writers of the Torah, the first five books, were talking about love of fellow Hebrews. Yes, we take for granted that parents, if they are at all normal, will love their children and the other members of their own family. The God that Moses represented was trying to get them to love their fellow Hebrews, those outside their own family, but still members of their own tribe. The aspect of God presented in the Old Testament is a god championing the Hebrews and helping them prevail against their enemies. The big deal about Jesus’ teaching is that He broadened the interpretation of neighbor, actually universalized it. When asked by a seeker “Who is my neighbor?” He told the parable of the Good Samaritan. Samaritans were the hated and avoided-at-all cost neighbors of the Jews, considered half-breeds and apostates from the true religion. So if Samaritans are my neighbor then everybody is. That’s the big deal; everybody is, no matter what their color, what language they speak, what religion they practice, or their sexual orientation. Everybody is. Sure, the people next door with whom we have so much in common that we even share child-rearing, those are our easy-to-love neighbors. But the people on the other side of the house, where we have the high fence, the ones who are so different? We hardly know them at all, but we know for sure we don’t approve of their life-style. They’re our neighbors, too, and we are commanded to love them. This is not just a suggestion; it is a commandment. That commandment is not just about the people next door, of course; it is about the whole world.
Now let’s look at that second commandment again. It say “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” Which means we are commanded to love
ourselves. One way to look at that is that we first have to love ourselves before we are able to love anyone else. Another way to look at it is that by loving others we are able to arrive at a deeper love of ourselves.
A woman at the healing service this past Wednesday asked if it was wrong to pray for oneself. Holy Cow! I think that many Christians, myself included, have felt they are being selfish by looking out for their own needs. That can’t be true, unless we are the only ones we look out for. The commandment is we are to love both ourselves and others. That means we have to care for ourselves; otherwise we are no good for anybody else. One of the ways we care for ourselves is by caring for others. At least some of them will care back, will love back. Unless we love ourselves, we will not have the strength to practice tough love, that kind of love which motivates us to draw lines in the sand and to say no when it is clearly in our own best interest and that of the loved one in question to not do what they demand.
And finally, the love that Christ commands does not mean necessarily liking the neighbor, although sometimes when we do for or care for another or maybe just pray for them they somehow become more likable.
During the American League Baseball Playoffs, those who were following the Tigers on TV with great hope undoubtedly noticed this commercial. I know I did. In a light sort of way it exemplifies what I have been trying to say. There are a series of little scenes: oh, a guy has a good deed done for him; then at the market he steps back and let’s a young mother with a shopping cart full of groceries and a child in tow go ahead of him; then that young woman is later out in her yard raking leaves when she sees her older neighbor struggling with her leaves and goes over and helps her; this is witnessed by a man who goes to his office and cleans up a mess on the floor of the coffee room; this is witnessed by the secretary who would usually have to do that and she goes out and does a good deed for someone else. That chain reaction would change the world.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Locating the Big Guy
Sermon: Exodus 33:12-23
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 16, 2011
This Old Testament episode involving God and Moses may seem a little odd to us from our vantage of perhaps 3000 years later. I don’t think the issue is much different, though, from what many of us face today. That issue is locating God.
Moses on Mt. Sinai is just trying to get a look at God. He’s been doing his bidding for quite a while. It’s not been easy to be the go between God and this unruly bunch of malcontents. God keeps telling him he knows him by name and all that good stuff. Moses says in effect, that’s all very fine, but you never let me see you. You talk to me out of burning bushes, behind boulders and down from the clouds, but what do you look like? God says, okay, you can see me but I have to protect you from the full frontal effect. My full brightness would melt your retinas, even kill you. So, God shows Him only his backside. Pretty illusive, I would say.
For many people down through the ages God has seemed very illusive, even absent. Where are you, God, when I need you?
I want to read you an account of this very experience. It was sent to me by my cousin Dan.
Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy. “Some twelve years ago I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session. That was the day I first saw Tommy. He was combing his long flaxen hair which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind it isn’t what’s on your head but what’s in it that counts, but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under S, S for strange…very strange. Tommy turned out to be the ‘atheist in residence’ in my course. He constantly objected to, smirked at or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew. When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam he asked in a cynical tone, Do you think I’ll ever find God? I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. No, I said emphatically. Why not? I thought that was the product you were pushing. I let him get five steps from the classroom door. Then I called out, Tommy! I don’t think you will find Him, but I’m absolutely certain He will find you. He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.
Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out he came to see me. When he walked into my office his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy, but his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe. Tommy, I thought about you so often. I heard you were sick, I blurted out. Oh, yes very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It’s a matter of weeks. Can you talk about it, Tom? I asked. Sure, what would you like to know? What’s it like to be only 24 and dying? Well, it could be worse, he said, like being 50 and having no values or ideals, like being 50 and thinking that booze, seducing women and making money are the real biggies in life. I began to look in my mental file under S, where I had filed Tommy as strange. It seems everybody I try to reject by classification God sends back into my life to educate me. What I really came to see you about, Tom said, is something you said to me on the last day of class. I asked if you thought I would ever find God. You said no, which surprised me, but you said He will find you. I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me it was malignant that’s when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying and then you quit. Well one day I woke up and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may or may not be, I just quit. I decided I just didn’t really care about God, about an afterlife or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and thought about something else you had said. ‘The essential sadness is to go through life without loving.’ But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without telling those you loved that you had loved them. So I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him. Dad? Yes, what, he said without lowering the newspaper. Dad, I would like to talk to you. Well, talk. I mean it’s really important. The newspaper came down three slow inches. What is it? Dad I love you. I just wanted you to know that. Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him. The newspaper fluttered to the floor and then he did two things I never remember him doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears. To feel him hug me and to hear him say he loved me. It was easier with my mother and little brother. We cried, too, and we hugged each other and started saying real nice things, things we had been keeping secret for so many years. I’m only sorry about one thing, that I waited so long. Here I was opening up to all the people I had actually been close to.
Then one day I turned around and God was there. He didn’t come to me when I pleaded with him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop. C’mon. Jump through. C’mon. I’ll give you three days, three weeks. Apparently God does things in His own way, at His own hour. But the important thing was that He was there. You were right. He found me after I stopped looking for Him.
Tommy, I practically gasped. I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know the Apostle John said that. He said that God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living in God and God is living in Him.
Tom, could I ask you a favor. You know when I had you in class you were a real pain but you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you’ve just told me. If I told them the same thing, it wouldn’t be half as effective as if you were to tell it. Ooh I’m ready for you, but I don’t know if I am ready for your class. In a few days Tom called, though, and said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So, we scheduled a date. However, he never made it. He had another appointment far more important. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever imagined. Before he died we talked one last time. I’m not going to make it to your class. Would you tell them for me, tell the whole world for me.
Where is God located? Maybe not on the mountain. Maybe not in the crisis when we think He should rescue us. Maybe not even in church. He resides in the hearts of those who love, and have the courage to say it and act on it.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 16, 2011
This Old Testament episode involving God and Moses may seem a little odd to us from our vantage of perhaps 3000 years later. I don’t think the issue is much different, though, from what many of us face today. That issue is locating God.
Moses on Mt. Sinai is just trying to get a look at God. He’s been doing his bidding for quite a while. It’s not been easy to be the go between God and this unruly bunch of malcontents. God keeps telling him he knows him by name and all that good stuff. Moses says in effect, that’s all very fine, but you never let me see you. You talk to me out of burning bushes, behind boulders and down from the clouds, but what do you look like? God says, okay, you can see me but I have to protect you from the full frontal effect. My full brightness would melt your retinas, even kill you. So, God shows Him only his backside. Pretty illusive, I would say.
For many people down through the ages God has seemed very illusive, even absent. Where are you, God, when I need you?
I want to read you an account of this very experience. It was sent to me by my cousin Dan.
Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy. “Some twelve years ago I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session. That was the day I first saw Tommy. He was combing his long flaxen hair which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind it isn’t what’s on your head but what’s in it that counts, but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under S, S for strange…very strange. Tommy turned out to be the ‘atheist in residence’ in my course. He constantly objected to, smirked at or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew. When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam he asked in a cynical tone, Do you think I’ll ever find God? I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. No, I said emphatically. Why not? I thought that was the product you were pushing. I let him get five steps from the classroom door. Then I called out, Tommy! I don’t think you will find Him, but I’m absolutely certain He will find you. He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.
Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out he came to see me. When he walked into my office his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy, but his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe. Tommy, I thought about you so often. I heard you were sick, I blurted out. Oh, yes very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It’s a matter of weeks. Can you talk about it, Tom? I asked. Sure, what would you like to know? What’s it like to be only 24 and dying? Well, it could be worse, he said, like being 50 and having no values or ideals, like being 50 and thinking that booze, seducing women and making money are the real biggies in life. I began to look in my mental file under S, where I had filed Tommy as strange. It seems everybody I try to reject by classification God sends back into my life to educate me. What I really came to see you about, Tom said, is something you said to me on the last day of class. I asked if you thought I would ever find God. You said no, which surprised me, but you said He will find you. I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me it was malignant that’s when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying and then you quit. Well one day I woke up and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may or may not be, I just quit. I decided I just didn’t really care about God, about an afterlife or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and thought about something else you had said. ‘The essential sadness is to go through life without loving.’ But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without telling those you loved that you had loved them. So I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him. Dad? Yes, what, he said without lowering the newspaper. Dad, I would like to talk to you. Well, talk. I mean it’s really important. The newspaper came down three slow inches. What is it? Dad I love you. I just wanted you to know that. Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him. The newspaper fluttered to the floor and then he did two things I never remember him doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears. To feel him hug me and to hear him say he loved me. It was easier with my mother and little brother. We cried, too, and we hugged each other and started saying real nice things, things we had been keeping secret for so many years. I’m only sorry about one thing, that I waited so long. Here I was opening up to all the people I had actually been close to.
Then one day I turned around and God was there. He didn’t come to me when I pleaded with him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop. C’mon. Jump through. C’mon. I’ll give you three days, three weeks. Apparently God does things in His own way, at His own hour. But the important thing was that He was there. You were right. He found me after I stopped looking for Him.
Tommy, I practically gasped. I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know the Apostle John said that. He said that God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living in God and God is living in Him.
Tom, could I ask you a favor. You know when I had you in class you were a real pain but you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you’ve just told me. If I told them the same thing, it wouldn’t be half as effective as if you were to tell it. Ooh I’m ready for you, but I don’t know if I am ready for your class. In a few days Tom called, though, and said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So, we scheduled a date. However, he never made it. He had another appointment far more important. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever imagined. Before he died we talked one last time. I’m not going to make it to your class. Would you tell them for me, tell the whole world for me.
Where is God located? Maybe not on the mountain. Maybe not in the crisis when we think He should rescue us. Maybe not even in church. He resides in the hearts of those who love, and have the courage to say it and act on it.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
A Franciscan World - An Opinion Piece
Looking around for a leader I am. Who in the world will lead us out of this mess? It’s a mess created by human greed and fear. There’s an economic meltdown threatening again across the world. The first was led by the greed of our U.S. financial executives and when it looked like we had evaded that meltdown a new one appeared caused by the debt problems of the poorer countries in the European Union. The richer member countries of the Euro Zone are now trying to decide if they will bail out the poorer ones in order to save what has been a successful economic partnership.
Lest we think we Americans are not tied to our European brothers and sisters, take a look at what Europe’s problems have done to our stock market.
Meanwhile back home, while the world burns our Neros in Congress play the fiddle of gridlock. At a fairly young age I learned that when your expenses were greater than your income, you do two things: cut your expenses AND increase your income. Both things need to be done in order to eventually balance the budget.
In times of crisis like this fear often takes over, replacing sound reasoning. But times of crises are also times of opportunity. There are signs that manufacturing jobs are coming back. Government intervention into the automobile industry appears to have helped.
Fear coming out of crisis often leads to blaming and scapegoating. An example would be the harsh measures being taken in some states against illegal immigrants, as if they are the cause of our economic woes. A large number of them have lived in this country for many years, raised children who are citizens and contributed to the economy like everyone else. How ironic that seasonal illegals are being blamed for taking jobs from citizens, jobs that most citizens are unwilling to work at or do very poorly, like stoop farm labor.
A great economic leveling is occurring in the world fueled by many factors, not least of which is electronic communication. It will not be possible much longer for rich nations to dominate poor nations and draw from them the resources which fuel the rich nations’ standard of living. The rich or First World Nations, the United States being the most prominent example, will not have the military and corporate resources to impose their will. Already the U.S. Pentagon budget is being cut as part of the austerity measures in Washington. Many, if not most, of the large corporations are multi-national, owned by interests from all over the world. Already a Second World Country, China, is the second most powerful economy in the world. Third world countries, such as Chile, formerly written off as hopelessly impoverished are moving into First World ranks.
What this means, I believe, is that our standard of living will decrease as others, in the past less fortunate, will increase. We have been living in a bubble of affluence, which cannot be maintained indefinitely. Here we have a choice. We can enter this new world gracefully, accepting the belt tightening, getting by on a little less, raising our own produce, settling for a more fuel efficient transportation, turning the thermostat down AND seeing more of our fellow human travelers sharing the good life, while not resenting that our tax monies are spent on roads that everyone drives on and schools that other peoples’ children are educated in OR we can fight the changes fear and scapegoating, continuing to support out-of-control wars and hating those different from ourselves.
This is a time of opportunity. Two popular revolutions are going on, one well developed, the other in its infancy. The Arab Spring uprisings in various countries of North Africa and the Near East is the first. It has led to the overthrow of two repressive governments with a third possibly to follow. With some help from divine providence what follows in those countries will be an improvement over the past with a greater opportunity for human freedom and ingenuity. The other possible revolution is being signaled by the series of anti-Wall Street demonstrations in various cities around the country. It remains to be seen how powerful this movement can become. Hopefully, it will lead to progressive change and not contribute to further deadlock in Washington.
So where will we find the one to lead us out of this mess? I think I have found our leader. He is not a politician or a king. He is not a business man or a general. He is not a professor or a scientist. In fact, he is not alive. He lived in thirteenth century Italy. His name is Francis from Assisi in the Province of Umbria. It is the example of his life that will lead us.
Francis, the son of a successful business man, spent his youth in harmless revelry and fruitless attempts to win military glory. His conscience was pricked by his contacts with beggars and lepers and he decided to embrace a life devoted to Lady Poverty. Against his father’s vehement opposition he gave away everything he had, put on a beggars garb and devoted his life to the poor. Followers flocked to him, a pope approved a religious order inspired by him and lead by him for awhile. The Franciscans became the largest religious order in the Catholic Church. No one, to my knowledge, has been able to follow perfectly in his footsteps, but generations have been inspired by his life.
Francis is our leader. His birthday was this week. We don’t have to give up everything to follow him. But the voluntary giving up of a certain lifestyle in order to share with those who have less is the solution to the mess we are in.
Francis had a great love of nature and preached to the animals when humans would not listen. The animals understood. But that is the topic for another opinion piece on the environment at another time.
Lest we think we Americans are not tied to our European brothers and sisters, take a look at what Europe’s problems have done to our stock market.
Meanwhile back home, while the world burns our Neros in Congress play the fiddle of gridlock. At a fairly young age I learned that when your expenses were greater than your income, you do two things: cut your expenses AND increase your income. Both things need to be done in order to eventually balance the budget.
In times of crisis like this fear often takes over, replacing sound reasoning. But times of crises are also times of opportunity. There are signs that manufacturing jobs are coming back. Government intervention into the automobile industry appears to have helped.
Fear coming out of crisis often leads to blaming and scapegoating. An example would be the harsh measures being taken in some states against illegal immigrants, as if they are the cause of our economic woes. A large number of them have lived in this country for many years, raised children who are citizens and contributed to the economy like everyone else. How ironic that seasonal illegals are being blamed for taking jobs from citizens, jobs that most citizens are unwilling to work at or do very poorly, like stoop farm labor.
A great economic leveling is occurring in the world fueled by many factors, not least of which is electronic communication. It will not be possible much longer for rich nations to dominate poor nations and draw from them the resources which fuel the rich nations’ standard of living. The rich or First World Nations, the United States being the most prominent example, will not have the military and corporate resources to impose their will. Already the U.S. Pentagon budget is being cut as part of the austerity measures in Washington. Many, if not most, of the large corporations are multi-national, owned by interests from all over the world. Already a Second World Country, China, is the second most powerful economy in the world. Third world countries, such as Chile, formerly written off as hopelessly impoverished are moving into First World ranks.
What this means, I believe, is that our standard of living will decrease as others, in the past less fortunate, will increase. We have been living in a bubble of affluence, which cannot be maintained indefinitely. Here we have a choice. We can enter this new world gracefully, accepting the belt tightening, getting by on a little less, raising our own produce, settling for a more fuel efficient transportation, turning the thermostat down AND seeing more of our fellow human travelers sharing the good life, while not resenting that our tax monies are spent on roads that everyone drives on and schools that other peoples’ children are educated in OR we can fight the changes fear and scapegoating, continuing to support out-of-control wars and hating those different from ourselves.
This is a time of opportunity. Two popular revolutions are going on, one well developed, the other in its infancy. The Arab Spring uprisings in various countries of North Africa and the Near East is the first. It has led to the overthrow of two repressive governments with a third possibly to follow. With some help from divine providence what follows in those countries will be an improvement over the past with a greater opportunity for human freedom and ingenuity. The other possible revolution is being signaled by the series of anti-Wall Street demonstrations in various cities around the country. It remains to be seen how powerful this movement can become. Hopefully, it will lead to progressive change and not contribute to further deadlock in Washington.
So where will we find the one to lead us out of this mess? I think I have found our leader. He is not a politician or a king. He is not a business man or a general. He is not a professor or a scientist. In fact, he is not alive. He lived in thirteenth century Italy. His name is Francis from Assisi in the Province of Umbria. It is the example of his life that will lead us.
Francis, the son of a successful business man, spent his youth in harmless revelry and fruitless attempts to win military glory. His conscience was pricked by his contacts with beggars and lepers and he decided to embrace a life devoted to Lady Poverty. Against his father’s vehement opposition he gave away everything he had, put on a beggars garb and devoted his life to the poor. Followers flocked to him, a pope approved a religious order inspired by him and lead by him for awhile. The Franciscans became the largest religious order in the Catholic Church. No one, to my knowledge, has been able to follow perfectly in his footsteps, but generations have been inspired by his life.
Francis is our leader. His birthday was this week. We don’t have to give up everything to follow him. But the voluntary giving up of a certain lifestyle in order to share with those who have less is the solution to the mess we are in.
Francis had a great love of nature and preached to the animals when humans would not listen. The animals understood. But that is the topic for another opinion piece on the environment at another time.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Spirituality or Religion
Sermon: Exodus 20:1-4,7-9,12-20, Mt. 21:33-40
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 2, 2011
A couple of weeks ago I was seating myself in this little plane, a puddle-jumper flying from Flint to Milwaukee. I pulled out my copy of Christianity Today and was prepared to be absorbed in it for the short flight across Michigan and Lake Michigan when this lady sits down in the seat next to me, takes one look at the magazine and exclaims, Isn’t it awful. Isn’t what awful? This article in USA Today which says people are abandoning church in large numbers and creating their own personal religion. Well, I was aware of recent research which reported that very thing but hadn’t seen the particular article she was clutching in her hand. It said these people were claiming to be spiritual rather than religious. I think she thought she had spotted a kindred soul when she saw the word Christianity on my magazine and actually she probably would have engaged me until she said “you know something else that is awful. No, what? Catholics don’t read the Bible.” When I countered that both my sisters are Catholic and they belong to this group WOW, Women of the Word, where they study the Bible and attend national rallies. That was the end of the conversation. She turned to her church lady friend across the aisle and ignored me the rest of the flight. I thanked God for small favors.
Actually, though, she and the article raise some interesting questions, like what does spiritual mean, what does religious mean and how are they related? Which is better, to be religious or to be spiritual? Can’t you be both? Does religious mean going to church? Before things get too confusing here, let me suggest some definitions. Spiritual, as I understand it, means devoting oneself to something greater than oneself and finding reward in that. Religious means being affiliated with some kind of organized religion and drawing part of one’s meaning from it. Religious usually implies a belief in a Higher Being. Spiritual does not necessarily imply that. Can you be one without the other? Certainly. I can devote myself like totally to a cause, to art, to science, to nature, to anything greater and somewhat beyond me, and, in the sense described, be quite spiritual. But that does not mean I am religious. Or I can be affiliated with a religion, practice it’s external tenants, go to church, believe in God intellectually but never really devote myself to Him, never take the plunge of total faith. Maybe never really pray. That is religion without spirituality.
I believe that we need to be both at the same time. Religion without spirituality is empty like that of the Pharisees that Jesus condemned. Spirituality without some form of traditional religious belief and practice is in danger of being shallow and incomplete; maybe just a fad.
Let me give an example of the second. Let’s say I am totally immersed in the world of music. Maybe I am a guitarist, or a composer or a conductor. I make great and spiritually uplifting music, whether its classical, jazz, folk, rock, country or rap. It helps me and others to have spiritually uplifting experiences. Sometimes I feel like I have experienced the divine. The church, by the way, uses music and other art forms for the same reason.
What could organized religion add to that? For starters, morality and a code to live by. For another, on-going contact with the scriptures and ancient traditions.
It is not true, by the way, that Catholics (and Episcopalians) don’t read the Bible. If they go to Church on a regular basis, they both hear and read three passages each time. They will have it interpreted for them, if the priest is doing her or his job. Oh, we’re not into quoting the Bible at people, hitting them over the head with it. And we would benefit from reading it more often.
Let me ask you this question: What was that first reading today, the one from Exodus? The ten commandments. Where are you going to hear them and be reminded of what they are, if not in a church setting? They are the basis of the morality of western civilization, they and the two commandments of Jesus, the ones about love.
I believe it is true that people need to establish their own personal relationship with God for their religion to be spiritual and I understand why many people, formerly religious people, chose to abandon church or only go on rare occasions.
I tried that myself for several years. I was busy pursuing a career, helping to raise our family. I didn’t have time for church affiliation, I thought. I would nourish my spiritual life by reading scripture and other inspirational readings and would meditate on my own. But you know, I didn’t do it. At least, not very well. It was such a reward to come back and get that regular nourishment in the Bible and have the benefits of the sacraments and the support of people of like belief.
So, good luck to those who are creating their own religion and to those who are trying to be spiritual without being religious. I really think the litmus test is morality. We will all be judged by it, the agnostics, the atheists, the snobbish church people, the spiritual searchers, the Muslims, Jehovah’s Witnesses, yes and the Christians. We will all be judged by our morality, whether the God of Christianity exists the way we think He does or not. How well have we kept the ten commandments and how well have we loved. That’s the litmus test of true spirituality and true religion. We need them both and we need all the help we can get to be there.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Oct. 2, 2011
A couple of weeks ago I was seating myself in this little plane, a puddle-jumper flying from Flint to Milwaukee. I pulled out my copy of Christianity Today and was prepared to be absorbed in it for the short flight across Michigan and Lake Michigan when this lady sits down in the seat next to me, takes one look at the magazine and exclaims, Isn’t it awful. Isn’t what awful? This article in USA Today which says people are abandoning church in large numbers and creating their own personal religion. Well, I was aware of recent research which reported that very thing but hadn’t seen the particular article she was clutching in her hand. It said these people were claiming to be spiritual rather than religious. I think she thought she had spotted a kindred soul when she saw the word Christianity on my magazine and actually she probably would have engaged me until she said “you know something else that is awful. No, what? Catholics don’t read the Bible.” When I countered that both my sisters are Catholic and they belong to this group WOW, Women of the Word, where they study the Bible and attend national rallies. That was the end of the conversation. She turned to her church lady friend across the aisle and ignored me the rest of the flight. I thanked God for small favors.
Actually, though, she and the article raise some interesting questions, like what does spiritual mean, what does religious mean and how are they related? Which is better, to be religious or to be spiritual? Can’t you be both? Does religious mean going to church? Before things get too confusing here, let me suggest some definitions. Spiritual, as I understand it, means devoting oneself to something greater than oneself and finding reward in that. Religious means being affiliated with some kind of organized religion and drawing part of one’s meaning from it. Religious usually implies a belief in a Higher Being. Spiritual does not necessarily imply that. Can you be one without the other? Certainly. I can devote myself like totally to a cause, to art, to science, to nature, to anything greater and somewhat beyond me, and, in the sense described, be quite spiritual. But that does not mean I am religious. Or I can be affiliated with a religion, practice it’s external tenants, go to church, believe in God intellectually but never really devote myself to Him, never take the plunge of total faith. Maybe never really pray. That is religion without spirituality.
I believe that we need to be both at the same time. Religion without spirituality is empty like that of the Pharisees that Jesus condemned. Spirituality without some form of traditional religious belief and practice is in danger of being shallow and incomplete; maybe just a fad.
Let me give an example of the second. Let’s say I am totally immersed in the world of music. Maybe I am a guitarist, or a composer or a conductor. I make great and spiritually uplifting music, whether its classical, jazz, folk, rock, country or rap. It helps me and others to have spiritually uplifting experiences. Sometimes I feel like I have experienced the divine. The church, by the way, uses music and other art forms for the same reason.
What could organized religion add to that? For starters, morality and a code to live by. For another, on-going contact with the scriptures and ancient traditions.
It is not true, by the way, that Catholics (and Episcopalians) don’t read the Bible. If they go to Church on a regular basis, they both hear and read three passages each time. They will have it interpreted for them, if the priest is doing her or his job. Oh, we’re not into quoting the Bible at people, hitting them over the head with it. And we would benefit from reading it more often.
Let me ask you this question: What was that first reading today, the one from Exodus? The ten commandments. Where are you going to hear them and be reminded of what they are, if not in a church setting? They are the basis of the morality of western civilization, they and the two commandments of Jesus, the ones about love.
I believe it is true that people need to establish their own personal relationship with God for their religion to be spiritual and I understand why many people, formerly religious people, chose to abandon church or only go on rare occasions.
I tried that myself for several years. I was busy pursuing a career, helping to raise our family. I didn’t have time for church affiliation, I thought. I would nourish my spiritual life by reading scripture and other inspirational readings and would meditate on my own. But you know, I didn’t do it. At least, not very well. It was such a reward to come back and get that regular nourishment in the Bible and have the benefits of the sacraments and the support of people of like belief.
So, good luck to those who are creating their own religion and to those who are trying to be spiritual without being religious. I really think the litmus test is morality. We will all be judged by it, the agnostics, the atheists, the snobbish church people, the spiritual searchers, the Muslims, Jehovah’s Witnesses, yes and the Christians. We will all be judged by our morality, whether the God of Christianity exists the way we think He does or not. How well have we kept the ten commandments and how well have we loved. That’s the litmus test of true spirituality and true religion. We need them both and we need all the help we can get to be there.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
The Terrible Sixties
Sermon: Phil 2:1-13, Mt. 21:23-32
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Sept. 25, 2011
Think about those two sons Jesus is describing in today’s Gospel. When asked by his father to go work in the vineyard (or mow the lawn or wash the storm windows or scoop the snow), something needed but obnoxious, the one son says “no way, Jose” but changes his mind and does it anyway, maybe without giving his father the satisfaction of knowing right away he did it(kids can be that way). As opposed to the other son who says “sure Dad” and just never gets around to doing the obnoxious thing.
Of course, the answer to Jesus’ question, “Who did the will of the Father?” is a no-brainer. Jesus is using the example to try to get through to the Pharisees, who fit into the second category. They made a big deal about saying yes to God, but really didn’t do His will. Jesus made it very clear, time after time, that He preferred the first group, those who said no to God and then changed their mind. He made a point of associating with tax collectors and prostitutes, the prime examples of public sinners in the eyes of the Pharisees, because they were repenting all over the place, in fact had been repenting and changing their lives through the influence of cousin John the Baptizer before Jesus appeared on the scene.
So, is it accurate to say that God prefers those who say no to Him over those who say yes? Before we answer that question, let’s explore the value of saying no. The no stage is an important one for human development. The so-called “terrible twos” is the name given to that stage when the young child starts to stake out his or her individuality, begins their separation from the mother and father. It is not by saying yes to everything that you learn to claim your own authority, but by saying no and the terrible two's do that a lot.
You create a life independent of others—parents, siblings, the tribe, the community—by saying no. You create a self-definition, a self that is centered in your own capacity to choose. Of course, the two year old is just starting the process. They need help. They need parents to push back and set limits. Otherwise, they get the message that they can get and do anything they want and that can be dangerous. Those parents or parental types can, of course, push back too hard and squelch individual initiative and personality development.
It is a life-long struggle to be that individual who we are called to be in a world that is trying to make us be everything else but.
If we can push back against the push back eventually the capacity to choose, the ability to say no gives way to the ability to truly say yes, a yes that has me in it. Not a compliant yes, a conformist yes, but a yes that means something, a yes from the heart, the center of the deep self, that brings up-against-it-ness, as well as great joy.
In answer to the question does God prefer those who say no to him over those who say yes, I think He prefers those who say yes from the heart, with their whole being, because they are able to say no and probably have many times. Sometimes we might have thought we were saying no to God when in reality we were saying no to the culture that had made God over into its own image.
Unfortunately, many of us learned it is easier to float downstream than swim against the current, to give into another authority and reality in place of our own. Pretty soon, having lived that way year after year after year whatever special self we were meant to express had become buried under a pile of oughts and shoulds. Our uniqueness becomes covered over with so many coats of paint year after year like the Golden Gate Bridge.
I was reading this caregiver who had worked with recovering cancer patients for more than a decade. The number one thing he saw in those who live longer and do better is that they recover their capacity to say no. No, I am not going to live that way anymore, they say, which gives them the motivation to affirm what they want, to say yes to those things but to say no to doctors who refuse to explain things or who make them wait hours for their appointment. I am not going to be treated this way, they say. No they say to those for whom they have been over-responsible. You are going to have to take legitimate care of yourself.
By learning to say no these survivors, so reports the caregiver, begin to open up to the life God has gifted them to live and to quit living through another person’s life. Usually, the effects on their immune systems are startling, as they find a new reason to live. They get excited about life. Their no-ness allows their yes-ness to merge and their true selves begin to blossom.
So the terrible twos are not so bad, in fact, they are very necessary. And they need to extend to the terrible three’s and sometimes to the terrible 13’s and maybe the terrible 60’s, As long as it takes to be the persons we are called to be. It actually took longer than that for me. Bishop Gibbs was quite amused when I went in to talk with him about returning to the priesthood. He introduced me to his second in command, Canon Hunter, by saying this is John Franklin. He has been resisting the call to ministry for 30 years. I didn’t know I was being called, because I was so busy saying no to this and no to that, still carving out my identity. But when the yes came it was a big one and a joyful one. So there are terrible 70's and I suppose 80's and even 90's. However long it takes to get it right.
\
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Sept. 25, 2011
Think about those two sons Jesus is describing in today’s Gospel. When asked by his father to go work in the vineyard (or mow the lawn or wash the storm windows or scoop the snow), something needed but obnoxious, the one son says “no way, Jose” but changes his mind and does it anyway, maybe without giving his father the satisfaction of knowing right away he did it(kids can be that way). As opposed to the other son who says “sure Dad” and just never gets around to doing the obnoxious thing.
Of course, the answer to Jesus’ question, “Who did the will of the Father?” is a no-brainer. Jesus is using the example to try to get through to the Pharisees, who fit into the second category. They made a big deal about saying yes to God, but really didn’t do His will. Jesus made it very clear, time after time, that He preferred the first group, those who said no to God and then changed their mind. He made a point of associating with tax collectors and prostitutes, the prime examples of public sinners in the eyes of the Pharisees, because they were repenting all over the place, in fact had been repenting and changing their lives through the influence of cousin John the Baptizer before Jesus appeared on the scene.
So, is it accurate to say that God prefers those who say no to Him over those who say yes? Before we answer that question, let’s explore the value of saying no. The no stage is an important one for human development. The so-called “terrible twos” is the name given to that stage when the young child starts to stake out his or her individuality, begins their separation from the mother and father. It is not by saying yes to everything that you learn to claim your own authority, but by saying no and the terrible two's do that a lot.
You create a life independent of others—parents, siblings, the tribe, the community—by saying no. You create a self-definition, a self that is centered in your own capacity to choose. Of course, the two year old is just starting the process. They need help. They need parents to push back and set limits. Otherwise, they get the message that they can get and do anything they want and that can be dangerous. Those parents or parental types can, of course, push back too hard and squelch individual initiative and personality development.
It is a life-long struggle to be that individual who we are called to be in a world that is trying to make us be everything else but.
If we can push back against the push back eventually the capacity to choose, the ability to say no gives way to the ability to truly say yes, a yes that has me in it. Not a compliant yes, a conformist yes, but a yes that means something, a yes from the heart, the center of the deep self, that brings up-against-it-ness, as well as great joy.
In answer to the question does God prefer those who say no to him over those who say yes, I think He prefers those who say yes from the heart, with their whole being, because they are able to say no and probably have many times. Sometimes we might have thought we were saying no to God when in reality we were saying no to the culture that had made God over into its own image.
Unfortunately, many of us learned it is easier to float downstream than swim against the current, to give into another authority and reality in place of our own. Pretty soon, having lived that way year after year after year whatever special self we were meant to express had become buried under a pile of oughts and shoulds. Our uniqueness becomes covered over with so many coats of paint year after year like the Golden Gate Bridge.
I was reading this caregiver who had worked with recovering cancer patients for more than a decade. The number one thing he saw in those who live longer and do better is that they recover their capacity to say no. No, I am not going to live that way anymore, they say, which gives them the motivation to affirm what they want, to say yes to those things but to say no to doctors who refuse to explain things or who make them wait hours for their appointment. I am not going to be treated this way, they say. No they say to those for whom they have been over-responsible. You are going to have to take legitimate care of yourself.
By learning to say no these survivors, so reports the caregiver, begin to open up to the life God has gifted them to live and to quit living through another person’s life. Usually, the effects on their immune systems are startling, as they find a new reason to live. They get excited about life. Their no-ness allows their yes-ness to merge and their true selves begin to blossom.
So the terrible twos are not so bad, in fact, they are very necessary. And they need to extend to the terrible three’s and sometimes to the terrible 13’s and maybe the terrible 60’s, As long as it takes to be the persons we are called to be. It actually took longer than that for me. Bishop Gibbs was quite amused when I went in to talk with him about returning to the priesthood. He introduced me to his second in command, Canon Hunter, by saying this is John Franklin. He has been resisting the call to ministry for 30 years. I didn’t know I was being called, because I was so busy saying no to this and no to that, still carving out my identity. But when the yes came it was a big one and a joyful one. So there are terrible 70's and I suppose 80's and even 90's. However long it takes to get it right.
\
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
It's About Time
Reflection on a 50th Anniversary of Ordination Reunion: Sept. 13-15, 2011
Time does a lot of things. It allows for resentments to recede, prejudices to disappear, hard-line beliefs to mellow. Limbs that don't work very well, shortterm memory that is like non-existent and senses that are failing make it easier to appreciate the bond we have. Those years we had together in a foreign land were both heady and sometimes harrowing. We came home changed forever and maybe for a time feeling like kings. The kingdom we envisioned didn't materialize. It was not our kingdom; it was His.
Some of us were soon defeated; others have stayed the course; all have found their way and no two ways were the same. God has changed. He has been sometimes elusive, sometimes, it seemed, cruel, often our bedrock. He ultimatey showed us how to love, in good times and in bad, in the loneliness and in the busyness. The Hound of Heaven never gave up.
It's about time we came together. The Hound worked through our special three. With great persistence, they, one especially, brought us together. The bond has transcended death. We have not all seen each other face to face, but we have the bond.
Our spiritual leader told us it is about time. Love is spelled T I M E.
Time does a lot of things. It allows for resentments to recede, prejudices to disappear, hard-line beliefs to mellow. Limbs that don't work very well, shortterm memory that is like non-existent and senses that are failing make it easier to appreciate the bond we have. Those years we had together in a foreign land were both heady and sometimes harrowing. We came home changed forever and maybe for a time feeling like kings. The kingdom we envisioned didn't materialize. It was not our kingdom; it was His.
Some of us were soon defeated; others have stayed the course; all have found their way and no two ways were the same. God has changed. He has been sometimes elusive, sometimes, it seemed, cruel, often our bedrock. He ultimatey showed us how to love, in good times and in bad, in the loneliness and in the busyness. The Hound of Heaven never gave up.
It's about time we came together. The Hound worked through our special three. With great persistence, they, one especially, brought us together. The bond has transcended death. We have not all seen each other face to face, but we have the bond.
Our spiritual leader told us it is about time. Love is spelled T I M E.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Our Ancestors and Nine-Eleven
Sermon: Mt. 18:21-35
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 9-11-11
It is good to get away. At the very least it provides some fresh sermon material. This trip certainly did that. While the main objective of our recent trip was to have a quality week with grandbabies (oh, and their parents, too), Cheryl and I had three days to explore southeast Virginia before the family rendezvous on the Outer Banks. I had been wanting to do this for some time. God must have been in agreement with the plans because we travelled in the aftermath of hurricane Emily and were not in the least inconvenienced by her. Airports opened up just in time; roads were cleared ahead of us; the power was turned back on in motels and restaurants even though the staff frequently were without power at their homes and had been for several days.
I wanted to visit that part of the country because of its connection with the early history of our country and with the origins of the U.S. Episcopal Church. That we got to do. We were at the site on the James River which in 1607 was the first English settlement in the new world that endured. There had been an Anglican Church there, but the building did not survive. A few miles up the road, though, is Williamsburg, which was the capital of the Virginia Colony when Thomas Jefferson was governor. Many of those buildings have survived and been restored into what is known as Colonial Williamsburg. The church known as Bruton Parish Church in use since 1715 not only has survived but is the functioning parish church for modern Williamsburg. We were fortunate to be admitted there on the first day Colonial Williamsburg was open after Emily and to come along just in time to celebrate Holy Communion with the Wed. morning congregation. You think St. Stephens' pews are uncomfortable; you should try kneeling in theirs. I felt like I was trespassing because they had historic names inscribed on them, names like T. Jefferson and G. Washington. The priest-celebrant that day told me not to be concerned because he doubted those guys every really spent much time in those pews.
A few more miles down the road is Yorktown, made famous by George Washington’s defeat in 1781 of the British under Cornwallis, with a lot of help from the French army and fleet. The national park there gives one a vivid understanding of just how the battle was fought and how the colonists for all practical purposes won the Revolutionary War. In York Town itself we visited Grace Episcopal Church, which has stood on the same site since 1642, and spent some time with the rector and associate rector. It is famous for being the site of the first Episcopal Confirmation in the thirteen colonies.
To add icing to the cake, the place where we met the family on the Outer Banks in North Carolina is near Kitty Hawk where Orville and Wilbur Wright, two bicycles makers from Dayton, Ohio, manufactured and flew the first airplane. That was over three hundred years from the landing at Jamestown but those brothers were pioneers in their own right.
I had the feeling several times on the trip that I was walking on sacred ground, ground hallowed by ancestors, all of whom came to this fertile and promising new land, bringing their religion with them and hoping for a better and freer life for their themselves and their descendants. We are the descendants, both genetically and spiritually, of those immigrants. We occaionally need to be reminded how hard our ancestors worked and sometimes fought to establish a country here and to win and keep its freedom. That freedom of opportunity allowed two brothers from Ohio to go to the sands of the Outer Banks and make history. We want our children and our children’s children to have the same chance to make history.
Ten years ago to the day, our complacency was jolted to the core when we saw those Twin Towers, symbols of international trade, come crashing down. For the first time since the Civil War, 1865, the killing impact of war came to this land. Many people showed heroism that day and in the days to come: the men who brought that plane down over the wilderness in Pennsylvania, giving up their own lives in order to save many other lives, and the firefighters and rescue workers both at the Pentagon in Washington and the Financial District in New York. St. Paul’s Chapel near the Twin Towers, by the way, was a haven for the rescue workers during those mournful days that followed the disaster. It is an Episcopal church where George Washington worshipped.
We honor those heroic people today, just as we have honored those who fought in the Revolutionary War and the many wars that followed. We mourn our dead as well as the dead from other countries who were killed innocently as a result of the tragedies of 9/11 We pray for the families who survived but have been indelibly affected by the departure of a mother or father. We pray also for our service men and women who have given their lives or suffer the results, and their families along with them, of too many deployments overseas.
We pray especially in thanksgiving for that grace to forgive about which Jesus speaks in today’s gospel, the grace to forgive but never to forget.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 9-11-11
It is good to get away. At the very least it provides some fresh sermon material. This trip certainly did that. While the main objective of our recent trip was to have a quality week with grandbabies (oh, and their parents, too), Cheryl and I had three days to explore southeast Virginia before the family rendezvous on the Outer Banks. I had been wanting to do this for some time. God must have been in agreement with the plans because we travelled in the aftermath of hurricane Emily and were not in the least inconvenienced by her. Airports opened up just in time; roads were cleared ahead of us; the power was turned back on in motels and restaurants even though the staff frequently were without power at their homes and had been for several days.
I wanted to visit that part of the country because of its connection with the early history of our country and with the origins of the U.S. Episcopal Church. That we got to do. We were at the site on the James River which in 1607 was the first English settlement in the new world that endured. There had been an Anglican Church there, but the building did not survive. A few miles up the road, though, is Williamsburg, which was the capital of the Virginia Colony when Thomas Jefferson was governor. Many of those buildings have survived and been restored into what is known as Colonial Williamsburg. The church known as Bruton Parish Church in use since 1715 not only has survived but is the functioning parish church for modern Williamsburg. We were fortunate to be admitted there on the first day Colonial Williamsburg was open after Emily and to come along just in time to celebrate Holy Communion with the Wed. morning congregation. You think St. Stephens' pews are uncomfortable; you should try kneeling in theirs. I felt like I was trespassing because they had historic names inscribed on them, names like T. Jefferson and G. Washington. The priest-celebrant that day told me not to be concerned because he doubted those guys every really spent much time in those pews.
A few more miles down the road is Yorktown, made famous by George Washington’s defeat in 1781 of the British under Cornwallis, with a lot of help from the French army and fleet. The national park there gives one a vivid understanding of just how the battle was fought and how the colonists for all practical purposes won the Revolutionary War. In York Town itself we visited Grace Episcopal Church, which has stood on the same site since 1642, and spent some time with the rector and associate rector. It is famous for being the site of the first Episcopal Confirmation in the thirteen colonies.
To add icing to the cake, the place where we met the family on the Outer Banks in North Carolina is near Kitty Hawk where Orville and Wilbur Wright, two bicycles makers from Dayton, Ohio, manufactured and flew the first airplane. That was over three hundred years from the landing at Jamestown but those brothers were pioneers in their own right.
I had the feeling several times on the trip that I was walking on sacred ground, ground hallowed by ancestors, all of whom came to this fertile and promising new land, bringing their religion with them and hoping for a better and freer life for their themselves and their descendants. We are the descendants, both genetically and spiritually, of those immigrants. We occaionally need to be reminded how hard our ancestors worked and sometimes fought to establish a country here and to win and keep its freedom. That freedom of opportunity allowed two brothers from Ohio to go to the sands of the Outer Banks and make history. We want our children and our children’s children to have the same chance to make history.
Ten years ago to the day, our complacency was jolted to the core when we saw those Twin Towers, symbols of international trade, come crashing down. For the first time since the Civil War, 1865, the killing impact of war came to this land. Many people showed heroism that day and in the days to come: the men who brought that plane down over the wilderness in Pennsylvania, giving up their own lives in order to save many other lives, and the firefighters and rescue workers both at the Pentagon in Washington and the Financial District in New York. St. Paul’s Chapel near the Twin Towers, by the way, was a haven for the rescue workers during those mournful days that followed the disaster. It is an Episcopal church where George Washington worshipped.
We honor those heroic people today, just as we have honored those who fought in the Revolutionary War and the many wars that followed. We mourn our dead as well as the dead from other countries who were killed innocently as a result of the tragedies of 9/11 We pray for the families who survived but have been indelibly affected by the departure of a mother or father. We pray also for our service men and women who have given their lives or suffer the results, and their families along with them, of too many deployments overseas.
We pray especially in thanksgiving for that grace to forgive about which Jesus speaks in today’s gospel, the grace to forgive but never to forget.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Of Gods and Men
I had my first viewing of the French movie "Of Gods and Men" last evening. It won innumerable awards in 2010 and even if it were totally fictional, which it is not, it deserved them all for it's acting, music and cinematography. The setting is a French Trappist monastery in the mountains of Algeria during the 1990's. The monks are there to serve the people by providing medical care, employment and literacy assistance. Their lives are peacably intertwined with the Muslim villagers until both they and the villagers get caught between a corrupt military government and a group of radical Islamic insurgents. Sound familiar?
The Prior's knowledge of the Koran and the monks' medical care of wounded insurgents prevent them at least temporarily from being terrorized. The local governor demands they accept police occupation in the monastery, which they refuse, and to leave the country before they are taken hostage. After prayer, pleas from the villagers that they stay and deep soul-searching they all vote to stay... and are taken hostage. The movie ends with the unanswered question as to how they were killed, by the insurgents or the government.
The portrayal of monastic life and liturgy comes across as very authentic. Each of the actors had spent time in a monastry to prepare for the role. The chants are undoubtedly better than in most monasteries, because at least some of the actors are professional musicians.
I liked it most especially because it presents Christianity in an unvarnished fashion: we are here to serve and to pray, not necessarily to convert to our way of belief.
The Prior's knowledge of the Koran and the monks' medical care of wounded insurgents prevent them at least temporarily from being terrorized. The local governor demands they accept police occupation in the monastery, which they refuse, and to leave the country before they are taken hostage. After prayer, pleas from the villagers that they stay and deep soul-searching they all vote to stay... and are taken hostage. The movie ends with the unanswered question as to how they were killed, by the insurgents or the government.
The portrayal of monastic life and liturgy comes across as very authentic. Each of the actors had spent time in a monastry to prepare for the role. The chants are undoubtedly better than in most monasteries, because at least some of the actors are professional musicians.
I liked it most especially because it presents Christianity in an unvarnished fashion: we are here to serve and to pray, not necessarily to convert to our way of belief.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
FRESH-OMORE
Sermon: Exodus 3:1-15, Rom 12:9-21, Mt 16:21-28
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pent 11, 8-28-11
Get behind me, Satan! How would you like to have anyone say that to you, let alone the Son of God? Poor Peter! His fortunes changed so quickly within the same chapter of Matthew’s Gospel. Last Sunday he had the right answer to the question “Who do you say that I am” and Jesus gave him a new name and made him the rock upon which he built his church. If you missed last week or any Sunday for that matter and want to keep up on the readings and the sermon and you use the internet, just go to my blog and pull them up. The address is hamburgham.blogspot.com It is found in the Sunday bulletin.
So Peter was the hero last week; this week he’s the scapegoat. Why? Not because he was bad or negligent or anything like that. He just didn’t get it. He wanted to save his Lord and friend from the suffering that was to come. He loved and cared. What’s wrong with that? What was wrong was that Jesus himself didn’t want to go through it. He knew what was coming and He was bucking up his courage. Peter, his first in command, is tempting him to run away from his destiny. Hence the term Satan, the tempter.
Life is that way sometimes. It’s the most natural thing in the world. We would rather avoid any pain in our own life and protect our loved ones from pain and hurt, as well. The term tough love came into existence for those who would protect a child, let’s say, and sometimes that child is 40 years old, from the logical and painful consequences of their own behavior. Such a protective parent really cripples the son or daughter by supporting their continued irresponsible behavior.
But of course that was not the case with Jesus. Peter was horrified at what Jesus was saying and when he could ignore it no more, he tried to talk him out of it. Pretty understandable. There are some things we cannot avoid, however. Jesus couldn’t and we can’t. Disastrous things occur to good people. Our faith is tested. How could a loving God allow this? we say. Because God’s love isn’t quite the same as ours. He has a bigger picture of things and is able to bring good out of apparent evil. Sometimes His love is really tough, though. After all He didn’t spare His own Son.
When we pray for someone who is suffering, we are praying that they be healed or helped out of a bad situation, if it is God’s will. Our ultimate prayer always has to be, if it is Your will. It is really rewarding, though, when we learn that a greater good is apparently coming out of the pain or disaster. This is especially true when it involves someone we have been praying for.
One such case is that of Champ McCahill. Champ is a 15 year old athlete who has been on our prayer list for about a year and a half. He has had a brain tumor removed; there were two surgeries. Recently he wrote this letter to all his prayer supporters; it has come to us through the good graces of Sue and Ron Hollis.
Hi everyone, it’s Champ here. Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer. I just got back from my beautiful cottage and family vacation. It was so nice to get to see all of my aunts, uncles and cousins.
I woke up this morning feeling confident but in the back of my mind a little worried. This morning I had another scan of not only my brain but my spine as well. My mom took me at the crack of dawn… well, really 6.00am, but too early. Because the scan took so long (two hours) they put me under, which is always fun! I woke up to my mom and Aunt Norine chatting as usual. They both believed I was fine but I could tell they were nervous, too. It didn’t take long for Dr. Smith to bring us the GREAT results of the scan. Dr. Smith isn’t a lady of many words but her smile said it all. My scan is clear!
I will stay in the hospital for the next two days for my second to last round of Chemo…ever. I will finish up either in Sept. or Oct. I feel almost like a normal person again. It feels so amazing to know that my body is cancer free. My mind and my heart have always been strong and now my body is too. I am looking forward to starting rehab—speech and physical therapy-- and continue to improve. I hope to start school in the fall. (I’ll be a fresh-OMORE. Freshman and Sophomore mixed, get it?)
I know I will never be the same I was before cancer but I have a feeling I like who I am better now. I have learned to treat people all equal and love and respect. I have learned how my community can be so uplifting. I have learned that family can get you through anything. I have so much love.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart and the top of my cancer free head!!!
Champlin Raymond
Ps The Irish are ranked 18th!! I have a feeling it will be a GREAT fall!!!!
There is a bigger picture and God sees it.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pent 11, 8-28-11
Get behind me, Satan! How would you like to have anyone say that to you, let alone the Son of God? Poor Peter! His fortunes changed so quickly within the same chapter of Matthew’s Gospel. Last Sunday he had the right answer to the question “Who do you say that I am” and Jesus gave him a new name and made him the rock upon which he built his church. If you missed last week or any Sunday for that matter and want to keep up on the readings and the sermon and you use the internet, just go to my blog and pull them up. The address is hamburgham.blogspot.com It is found in the Sunday bulletin.
So Peter was the hero last week; this week he’s the scapegoat. Why? Not because he was bad or negligent or anything like that. He just didn’t get it. He wanted to save his Lord and friend from the suffering that was to come. He loved and cared. What’s wrong with that? What was wrong was that Jesus himself didn’t want to go through it. He knew what was coming and He was bucking up his courage. Peter, his first in command, is tempting him to run away from his destiny. Hence the term Satan, the tempter.
Life is that way sometimes. It’s the most natural thing in the world. We would rather avoid any pain in our own life and protect our loved ones from pain and hurt, as well. The term tough love came into existence for those who would protect a child, let’s say, and sometimes that child is 40 years old, from the logical and painful consequences of their own behavior. Such a protective parent really cripples the son or daughter by supporting their continued irresponsible behavior.
But of course that was not the case with Jesus. Peter was horrified at what Jesus was saying and when he could ignore it no more, he tried to talk him out of it. Pretty understandable. There are some things we cannot avoid, however. Jesus couldn’t and we can’t. Disastrous things occur to good people. Our faith is tested. How could a loving God allow this? we say. Because God’s love isn’t quite the same as ours. He has a bigger picture of things and is able to bring good out of apparent evil. Sometimes His love is really tough, though. After all He didn’t spare His own Son.
When we pray for someone who is suffering, we are praying that they be healed or helped out of a bad situation, if it is God’s will. Our ultimate prayer always has to be, if it is Your will. It is really rewarding, though, when we learn that a greater good is apparently coming out of the pain or disaster. This is especially true when it involves someone we have been praying for.
One such case is that of Champ McCahill. Champ is a 15 year old athlete who has been on our prayer list for about a year and a half. He has had a brain tumor removed; there were two surgeries. Recently he wrote this letter to all his prayer supporters; it has come to us through the good graces of Sue and Ron Hollis.
Hi everyone, it’s Champ here. Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer. I just got back from my beautiful cottage and family vacation. It was so nice to get to see all of my aunts, uncles and cousins.
I woke up this morning feeling confident but in the back of my mind a little worried. This morning I had another scan of not only my brain but my spine as well. My mom took me at the crack of dawn… well, really 6.00am, but too early. Because the scan took so long (two hours) they put me under, which is always fun! I woke up to my mom and Aunt Norine chatting as usual. They both believed I was fine but I could tell they were nervous, too. It didn’t take long for Dr. Smith to bring us the GREAT results of the scan. Dr. Smith isn’t a lady of many words but her smile said it all. My scan is clear!
I will stay in the hospital for the next two days for my second to last round of Chemo…ever. I will finish up either in Sept. or Oct. I feel almost like a normal person again. It feels so amazing to know that my body is cancer free. My mind and my heart have always been strong and now my body is too. I am looking forward to starting rehab—speech and physical therapy-- and continue to improve. I hope to start school in the fall. (I’ll be a fresh-OMORE. Freshman and Sophomore mixed, get it?)
I know I will never be the same I was before cancer but I have a feeling I like who I am better now. I have learned to treat people all equal and love and respect. I have learned how my community can be so uplifting. I have learned that family can get you through anything. I have so much love.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart and the top of my cancer free head!!!
Champlin Raymond
Ps The Irish are ranked 18th!! I have a feeling it will be a GREAT fall!!!!
There is a bigger picture and God sees it.
His Spirit is With Us
Rector’s Corner, The Lark for Sept., 2011.
Just before the service begins on a Sunday morning the Eucharistic minister, acolyte, choir and I gather in the corridor for prayer. I often ask Jesus to be with us as we lead His people in the worship of the Father. Just now, reading the passage from Matthew, “Where two or three are gathered in my name I am there among them,” it dawns on me that we don’t have to ask Jesus to be here. He is already here. We simply have to stop and acknowledge His presence. “I will be with you all days,” He said. And as we move into a new seasonal bulletin for our Fall worship and adopt the Eucharistic Prayer from the Church of Ireland Prayer Book a subtle change is occurring in our prayer greeting to each other. Where we usually say “The Lord be with you; and also with you” we will be saying “The Lord is here; His Spirit is with us.” I like that better. It encourages us to be aware of God’s presence in our midst at all times. While we can do that in our aloneness with Him, there is something very special about the gathering of two or three or more to help us be aware of the divine presence. That’s why we come together for worship.
This is not an easy time in our country and in the lives of many of us. The tenth anniversary of the attack on New York and Washington is a reminder that this has been and is a hard period. The country is divided in sometimes hateful ways. Civility has disappeared from the political scene. Economic belt-tightening is being forced on households and governments just when it looked like we were starting to come out of the recession. The wars are taking their toll on our courageous young men and women who are serving their country and their families as well.
Now more than ever we need to remember that help is at hand. The Lord is here. His Spirit is with us. John+
Just before the service begins on a Sunday morning the Eucharistic minister, acolyte, choir and I gather in the corridor for prayer. I often ask Jesus to be with us as we lead His people in the worship of the Father. Just now, reading the passage from Matthew, “Where two or three are gathered in my name I am there among them,” it dawns on me that we don’t have to ask Jesus to be here. He is already here. We simply have to stop and acknowledge His presence. “I will be with you all days,” He said. And as we move into a new seasonal bulletin for our Fall worship and adopt the Eucharistic Prayer from the Church of Ireland Prayer Book a subtle change is occurring in our prayer greeting to each other. Where we usually say “The Lord be with you; and also with you” we will be saying “The Lord is here; His Spirit is with us.” I like that better. It encourages us to be aware of God’s presence in our midst at all times. While we can do that in our aloneness with Him, there is something very special about the gathering of two or three or more to help us be aware of the divine presence. That’s why we come together for worship.
This is not an easy time in our country and in the lives of many of us. The tenth anniversary of the attack on New York and Washington is a reminder that this has been and is a hard period. The country is divided in sometimes hateful ways. Civility has disappeared from the political scene. Economic belt-tightening is being forced on households and governments just when it looked like we were starting to come out of the recession. The wars are taking their toll on our courageous young men and women who are serving their country and their families as well.
Now more than ever we need to remember that help is at hand. The Lord is here. His Spirit is with us. John+
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Rocks and Creeds
Sermon: Exodus 1:8-2:10 and Mt. 16:13-20
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 8-21-11
Three clergy—a Lutheran, a Catholic and an Episcopalian—ended up at the pearly gates one day. It was St. Peter’s day off, so Jesus himself was administering the entrance exam. “The question is simple,” he said. “Who do you say that I am? The Lutheran stepped forward and began, “The Bible says…” but Jesus interrupted and said, “I know what the Bible says: Who do you say that I am?” The Lutheran said, “I don’t know” and fell through a trap door to that other place. The Catholic stepped forward and began, “The Pope says…” but Jesus interrupted him and said, “I don’t care what the Pope says; who do you say that I am?” “I’m not sure,” said the Catholic, and promptly fell through the trap door to that other place. Jesus turned to the Episcopalian and asked, “Who do you say that I am?” The Episcopalian replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” Then just as Jesus smiled and gestured for the Pearly Gates to be opened, the Episcopalian continued, “but on the other hand…”
There are two great readings today and I can’t preach on both of them. Much as I would like to preach about baby Moses and the midwives, I’m going with the Gospel reading from Matthew. Jesus is quizzing the Apostles much as He is in my introductory story today. He wants to know what they really believe and Peter volunteers what is probably the most profound profession of faith found in any of the Gospels. He proclaims Jesus to be 1) the Christ, the Messiah. Christ is not Jesus’ surname although it kind of sounds that way when we always say it along with Jesus. It means the anointed one of God, the promised Messiah. And 2) he proclaims Jesus to be the Son of God, not just any son or daughter of God, but the Son of the Living God, which is probably the closest to a profession of his divinity to be found in the gospels.
We are used to this terminology. In fact, we take it for granted after a lifetime of hearing and saying it; Jesus is the Messiah, long promised. And He is the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, equal to the Father. He is God. We say all that in the Nicene Creed right after the sermon every Sunday. Because Peter said it and really meant it and as we learned later, really tried to follow it’s implications, Jesus changed his name to Rock and built his church on him. He is using the analogy of a building built on the firm foundation of a rock to give us a glimpse into what He really means by Church. Too bad that the word church came to refer to the building, the example, rather than the reality that the example points toward. Much as we love our beautiful, historic building it is not what Jesus built on Peter. Paul gave us another analogy to try to understand what the church is. He said it is the Body of Christ. So it is living and not an inert structure. We are it’s members. The church is people. It is Jesus, the head and we the members. He built it first on the apostles, who are people, with Peter as head of the Apostles. We become members through Baptism. But that’s only the beginning. To be living members of Christ’s Body, the church, we have to live that faith we profess in the Creed. It is not enough to say the words the Sundays we are here, not close to being enough. Not enough to parrot a quote from the Bible or to repeat a pronouncement of the Pope or of Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury for that matter. Simon Peter did not parrot a bible quote. And no Creeds would be formalized for a couple of hundred years. There was yet no pope, although Roman Catholics claim Peter was the first pope, a dubious claim.
What Peter said came from his mind and his heart and his soul. It was not a mere intellectual statement. If we would be true members of the church, we would do the same. Our faith would not be an intellectual statement alone. Our faith would be accompanied with hope and with love. They all go together, mind, heart and soul, faith, hope and love. What really matters is following the teachings of Jesus. Without that the creed is empty. What are his teachings? Ten old testament commandments and two new testament commandments. They are: Put God first. Worship and thank Him. Devote a day a week to rest, recreation and prayer. Speak the truth, especially when swearing with God’s name. Do not take human life and that extends to unborn babies, convicted criminals and war. Do not steal from others, but strive for a fair and equal share of the earth’s bounty for all. Be satisfied with what we have and do not covet what others have. Use the beautiful gift of sexuality within the loving confines of marriage. (Let me add a comment of my own because it is not yet official church teaching, but which I firmly believe is in keeping with the teachings of Jesus. The loving confines of marriage includes same sex unions.) Honor our parents, grandparents, children and grandchildren.
What is our profession of faith following the example of Peter? You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God. You are the object of our faith, hope and love as we strive to the best of our ability to follow your teachings in relation to our fellow men and women.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 8-21-11
Three clergy—a Lutheran, a Catholic and an Episcopalian—ended up at the pearly gates one day. It was St. Peter’s day off, so Jesus himself was administering the entrance exam. “The question is simple,” he said. “Who do you say that I am? The Lutheran stepped forward and began, “The Bible says…” but Jesus interrupted and said, “I know what the Bible says: Who do you say that I am?” The Lutheran said, “I don’t know” and fell through a trap door to that other place. The Catholic stepped forward and began, “The Pope says…” but Jesus interrupted him and said, “I don’t care what the Pope says; who do you say that I am?” “I’m not sure,” said the Catholic, and promptly fell through the trap door to that other place. Jesus turned to the Episcopalian and asked, “Who do you say that I am?” The Episcopalian replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” Then just as Jesus smiled and gestured for the Pearly Gates to be opened, the Episcopalian continued, “but on the other hand…”
There are two great readings today and I can’t preach on both of them. Much as I would like to preach about baby Moses and the midwives, I’m going with the Gospel reading from Matthew. Jesus is quizzing the Apostles much as He is in my introductory story today. He wants to know what they really believe and Peter volunteers what is probably the most profound profession of faith found in any of the Gospels. He proclaims Jesus to be 1) the Christ, the Messiah. Christ is not Jesus’ surname although it kind of sounds that way when we always say it along with Jesus. It means the anointed one of God, the promised Messiah. And 2) he proclaims Jesus to be the Son of God, not just any son or daughter of God, but the Son of the Living God, which is probably the closest to a profession of his divinity to be found in the gospels.
We are used to this terminology. In fact, we take it for granted after a lifetime of hearing and saying it; Jesus is the Messiah, long promised. And He is the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, equal to the Father. He is God. We say all that in the Nicene Creed right after the sermon every Sunday. Because Peter said it and really meant it and as we learned later, really tried to follow it’s implications, Jesus changed his name to Rock and built his church on him. He is using the analogy of a building built on the firm foundation of a rock to give us a glimpse into what He really means by Church. Too bad that the word church came to refer to the building, the example, rather than the reality that the example points toward. Much as we love our beautiful, historic building it is not what Jesus built on Peter. Paul gave us another analogy to try to understand what the church is. He said it is the Body of Christ. So it is living and not an inert structure. We are it’s members. The church is people. It is Jesus, the head and we the members. He built it first on the apostles, who are people, with Peter as head of the Apostles. We become members through Baptism. But that’s only the beginning. To be living members of Christ’s Body, the church, we have to live that faith we profess in the Creed. It is not enough to say the words the Sundays we are here, not close to being enough. Not enough to parrot a quote from the Bible or to repeat a pronouncement of the Pope or of Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury for that matter. Simon Peter did not parrot a bible quote. And no Creeds would be formalized for a couple of hundred years. There was yet no pope, although Roman Catholics claim Peter was the first pope, a dubious claim.
What Peter said came from his mind and his heart and his soul. It was not a mere intellectual statement. If we would be true members of the church, we would do the same. Our faith would not be an intellectual statement alone. Our faith would be accompanied with hope and with love. They all go together, mind, heart and soul, faith, hope and love. What really matters is following the teachings of Jesus. Without that the creed is empty. What are his teachings? Ten old testament commandments and two new testament commandments. They are: Put God first. Worship and thank Him. Devote a day a week to rest, recreation and prayer. Speak the truth, especially when swearing with God’s name. Do not take human life and that extends to unborn babies, convicted criminals and war. Do not steal from others, but strive for a fair and equal share of the earth’s bounty for all. Be satisfied with what we have and do not covet what others have. Use the beautiful gift of sexuality within the loving confines of marriage. (Let me add a comment of my own because it is not yet official church teaching, but which I firmly believe is in keeping with the teachings of Jesus. The loving confines of marriage includes same sex unions.) Honor our parents, grandparents, children and grandchildren.
What is our profession of faith following the example of Peter? You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God. You are the object of our faith, hope and love as we strive to the best of our ability to follow your teachings in relation to our fellow men and women.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
God's Soap Opera
Sermon: Genesis 45:1-15
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Aug. 14, 2011
How many of you are soap opera fans? How many of you are soap opera addicts? Our daughter had a soap opera that she followed faithfully during her teen years, "Days of Our Lives." She would tape it and watch it in the evening after school. Sometimes I would watch it with her; that way we had something in common to talk about. I checked it out this week. It is still going and at least one of the characters is still in the show after twenty years.
A good soap opera includes the best and worst of human behavior. I’m thinking of one such now. It has several wives, many children, sibling rivalry, deceit, parental favoritism, flaunting or showing off, jealousy, hatred, violence, abundance, famine, hunger, love, caring, forgiveness and rescue.
I’m talking about one of the soap operas in the Bible, one of the longest running. It is the one involving Jacob and his sons, of which we have an excerpt in today’s Old Testament reading. It could aptly be called "All My Sons". Jacob, renamed Israel by God, dominates the last 25 chapters of the Book of Genesis, half the book. Today’s reading is just a little excerpt from that long saga. It has all the plots of a long-running contemporary soap opera.
I suggest you go home, get out your Bible and read all 25 chapters. The story, as briefly as it can be told, is that Jacob was born a twin, but second-born, and he had to trick his brother and his father into getting his brother’s birthright. He in turn is tricked by his future father-in- law into marrying, not the woman he loved after working 7 years for her, but her older sister. He then works another seven years for Rachel. Ultimately he has thirteen sons and one daughter, Dinah, by the two wives and their maid servants. Joseph, the 12th born son is his favorite; he is Rachel's only son up to that poinet. Joseph has the gift of dream interpretation. He is resented by his brothers because he tattled to their father on them and because he flaunts his special status with the multi-colored robe their father gave him. Some of his brothers want to kill him, but instead they sell him into slavery to a caravan headed for Egypt, but take his robe back to their father with animal blood on it. Jacob concludes his beloved son has been killed by a wild animal.
In the meantime in Egypt Joseph has mixed fortunes. After spending some time in jail for resisting the wiles of his master’s wife, he comes to the attention of Pharaoh who needs a dream interpreter. Joseph interprets his dream that there will be 7 years of abundant crops and seven years of famine. Pharaoh believes him and makes him #2 man in the land with responsibility for storing up the abundance. After 7 years famine does hit the entire region. Two years into the famine Jacob and his family are starving back in Canaan. He sends his boys to Egypt to buy grain, all except Benjamin, who has been born of Rachel after Joseph was taken away. Joseph recognizes them immediately and forgives, but they do not recognize him. He still will exact some pain from them, though, and tricks them into bringing Benjamin down to Egypt. Today’s Gospel describes his tearful reunion with his brothers. Jacob is then convinced to relocate his entire family and flocks to Egypt because there will be 5 more years of famine and Joseph can look out for them.
So, how does this biblical soap opera differ from those found in literature and television? This one is part of salvation history. This family is one chosen by God to keep alive the true faith in Him. He uses the tragedy of Joseph’s being sold into slavery as a vehicle for saving this family. Both Jacob and Joseph are recognized as having this strong faith. Through them the descendants of Abraham will prosper on the land. Yet the entire bunch is flawed; no one is perfect. So where was God going to find a family without flaw? One of ours?
The opera continues. Jacob’s descendants multiply in Egypt and prosper for a time, but then there comes a pharaoh who knew not Joseph and they become slaves. Some have speculated that they may have been involved in building some of the pyramids. God sends another savior, Moses, to bring them back home to Canaan and to restore their faith in Jahweh. But that’s another opera and another book, Exodus. I suggest that be next on your summer reading list.
The message: don’t give into despair. There are tragedies in our own families? We see many of the same themes as with Jacob’s opera: jealousies, alienations, brothers and sisters not talking to each other for generations, sometimes even violence. But it’s not over till it’s over. Remember Joseph. The fact that he matured and forgave made all the difference in the world. He became the salvation and change agent for his family. We too can change. Sometimes it takes a crisis. We can only change ourselves. We need to stop expecting others to change and change the one person we can.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Aug. 14, 2011
How many of you are soap opera fans? How many of you are soap opera addicts? Our daughter had a soap opera that she followed faithfully during her teen years, "Days of Our Lives." She would tape it and watch it in the evening after school. Sometimes I would watch it with her; that way we had something in common to talk about. I checked it out this week. It is still going and at least one of the characters is still in the show after twenty years.
A good soap opera includes the best and worst of human behavior. I’m thinking of one such now. It has several wives, many children, sibling rivalry, deceit, parental favoritism, flaunting or showing off, jealousy, hatred, violence, abundance, famine, hunger, love, caring, forgiveness and rescue.
I’m talking about one of the soap operas in the Bible, one of the longest running. It is the one involving Jacob and his sons, of which we have an excerpt in today’s Old Testament reading. It could aptly be called "All My Sons". Jacob, renamed Israel by God, dominates the last 25 chapters of the Book of Genesis, half the book. Today’s reading is just a little excerpt from that long saga. It has all the plots of a long-running contemporary soap opera.
I suggest you go home, get out your Bible and read all 25 chapters. The story, as briefly as it can be told, is that Jacob was born a twin, but second-born, and he had to trick his brother and his father into getting his brother’s birthright. He in turn is tricked by his future father-in- law into marrying, not the woman he loved after working 7 years for her, but her older sister. He then works another seven years for Rachel. Ultimately he has thirteen sons and one daughter, Dinah, by the two wives and their maid servants. Joseph, the 12th born son is his favorite; he is Rachel's only son up to that poinet. Joseph has the gift of dream interpretation. He is resented by his brothers because he tattled to their father on them and because he flaunts his special status with the multi-colored robe their father gave him. Some of his brothers want to kill him, but instead they sell him into slavery to a caravan headed for Egypt, but take his robe back to their father with animal blood on it. Jacob concludes his beloved son has been killed by a wild animal.
In the meantime in Egypt Joseph has mixed fortunes. After spending some time in jail for resisting the wiles of his master’s wife, he comes to the attention of Pharaoh who needs a dream interpreter. Joseph interprets his dream that there will be 7 years of abundant crops and seven years of famine. Pharaoh believes him and makes him #2 man in the land with responsibility for storing up the abundance. After 7 years famine does hit the entire region. Two years into the famine Jacob and his family are starving back in Canaan. He sends his boys to Egypt to buy grain, all except Benjamin, who has been born of Rachel after Joseph was taken away. Joseph recognizes them immediately and forgives, but they do not recognize him. He still will exact some pain from them, though, and tricks them into bringing Benjamin down to Egypt. Today’s Gospel describes his tearful reunion with his brothers. Jacob is then convinced to relocate his entire family and flocks to Egypt because there will be 5 more years of famine and Joseph can look out for them.
So, how does this biblical soap opera differ from those found in literature and television? This one is part of salvation history. This family is one chosen by God to keep alive the true faith in Him. He uses the tragedy of Joseph’s being sold into slavery as a vehicle for saving this family. Both Jacob and Joseph are recognized as having this strong faith. Through them the descendants of Abraham will prosper on the land. Yet the entire bunch is flawed; no one is perfect. So where was God going to find a family without flaw? One of ours?
The opera continues. Jacob’s descendants multiply in Egypt and prosper for a time, but then there comes a pharaoh who knew not Joseph and they become slaves. Some have speculated that they may have been involved in building some of the pyramids. God sends another savior, Moses, to bring them back home to Canaan and to restore their faith in Jahweh. But that’s another opera and another book, Exodus. I suggest that be next on your summer reading list.
The message: don’t give into despair. There are tragedies in our own families? We see many of the same themes as with Jacob’s opera: jealousies, alienations, brothers and sisters not talking to each other for generations, sometimes even violence. But it’s not over till it’s over. Remember Joseph. The fact that he matured and forgave made all the difference in the world. He became the salvation and change agent for his family. We too can change. Sometimes it takes a crisis. We can only change ourselves. We need to stop expecting others to change and change the one person we can.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
An Evening at the Court
It was a hot summer day, June 20th, in D.C. Cheryl and I took the Metro in from Alexandria. I was carrying my sports jacket. I had been told a jacket and tie would be sufficient. As it turned out a dark business suit would have been more appropriate. Jim, my good friend and classmate from 50 years ago, greeted us at the entrance to the Historical Society of the Supreme Court and we were immersed for an hour or so in the history of the Court and it's justices. It was clear that Jim was highly respected as the unofficial historian of the Court. It was his collection of books on the lives of the justices, donated to the society, that lined the walls of it's library.
Then it was time to make the two block walk to the Court. The sun was still beating down on the nation's capital and on the TV cameras and commentators gathered at the base of the imposing steps leading to the front entrance. Could the setting for the Final Judgment be more threatening than this? We quickly realized the reason for the cameras. This was the day the Court had brought down its decision on Female Employees vs. Walmart (or whatever the official title of the case.) The networks were there to announce to the world that for all practical purposes the nation's largest corporation had prevailed over its lesser paid employees. (5 to 4).
The newsday was coming to an end and the equipment was being packed up and driven away. Our attention was drawn to a celebrative group of folks posing for a picture on the steps. They were the occasion of our visit. These highschool social science teachers had spent the week in the environs of Court studying its working and arguing its pending cases. They had been invited earlier that day to come into the courtroom to hear four decisions, Walmart only being one. This evening their week at the Court was culminating with a reception in their honor hosted by the Chief Justice. Jim was slipping us in to the reception, he said, as "ringers." We were to act as if we were staff of the Historical Society and mingle with the teachers.
Fortunately, there was an elevator as an alternative to the front steps. We were ushered into one of two reception rooms. This one had portraits of the chief justices. The one that caught my attention was the one of Justice Rehnquist. He had introduced yellow stripes onto the sleeves of his robe. They stood out in the portrait as if he were an army drill sergeant. The teachers were excited and thrilled by their week, ready to return to their home states and share the excitement about the judicial system with their students. I was impressed especially by a veteran temale teacher from the Detroit Public Schools and a young man from Arkansas. The drinks and finger food were plentiful. I tried not to spill anything on the floor or on myself.
After all, I was a "ringer."
Chief Justice Roberts welcomed the teachers, spoke briefly and with some pride of the decisions rendered that day and spoke more extensively about the respect with which the U.S. Supreme Court was held around the world. In fact, he was leaving as soon as that session was finished on a tour of Easter Europe, the former Soviet Block countries, to encourage their supreme courts to emulate the American system. I bypassed the opportunity to discusst the fine points of the Walmart decision with him.
After the reception Jim had arranged for a tour of the building for us with the Procurator. She it is who has responsibility for the many artifacts and portraits contained in the building. And as the court's historian he works closely with her. A wonderfully accomodating person, she took us into nooks and cranies not ordinarily seen on routinue tours. She showed us, for instance, a newly completed portrait of Justice Brennan waiting in the wings until he retires or dies. They do not hang portraits of sitting justices. We were ushered into the courtroom itself and, although not encouraged to sit in one of the justices' chairs, could have sat on the side reserved for family members or the press section or even the seat reserved for visiting chief justices from other countries.
The sun was setting well to the north of the Washington Monument as we viewed that white obelisk from Capital Hill. It had cooled off a bit and Jim was walking Cheryl and me back to the Metro Stop. I was impressed with how long this friendship had endured with little personal contact over the years. I was also impressed with the strength of tradition and commitment to law which enforce narrow-majority decisions of this court. One resignation, one appointment can alter the course of legal history.
Then it was time to make the two block walk to the Court. The sun was still beating down on the nation's capital and on the TV cameras and commentators gathered at the base of the imposing steps leading to the front entrance. Could the setting for the Final Judgment be more threatening than this? We quickly realized the reason for the cameras. This was the day the Court had brought down its decision on Female Employees vs. Walmart (or whatever the official title of the case.) The networks were there to announce to the world that for all practical purposes the nation's largest corporation had prevailed over its lesser paid employees. (5 to 4).
The newsday was coming to an end and the equipment was being packed up and driven away. Our attention was drawn to a celebrative group of folks posing for a picture on the steps. They were the occasion of our visit. These highschool social science teachers had spent the week in the environs of Court studying its working and arguing its pending cases. They had been invited earlier that day to come into the courtroom to hear four decisions, Walmart only being one. This evening their week at the Court was culminating with a reception in their honor hosted by the Chief Justice. Jim was slipping us in to the reception, he said, as "ringers." We were to act as if we were staff of the Historical Society and mingle with the teachers.
Fortunately, there was an elevator as an alternative to the front steps. We were ushered into one of two reception rooms. This one had portraits of the chief justices. The one that caught my attention was the one of Justice Rehnquist. He had introduced yellow stripes onto the sleeves of his robe. They stood out in the portrait as if he were an army drill sergeant. The teachers were excited and thrilled by their week, ready to return to their home states and share the excitement about the judicial system with their students. I was impressed especially by a veteran temale teacher from the Detroit Public Schools and a young man from Arkansas. The drinks and finger food were plentiful. I tried not to spill anything on the floor or on myself.
After all, I was a "ringer."
Chief Justice Roberts welcomed the teachers, spoke briefly and with some pride of the decisions rendered that day and spoke more extensively about the respect with which the U.S. Supreme Court was held around the world. In fact, he was leaving as soon as that session was finished on a tour of Easter Europe, the former Soviet Block countries, to encourage their supreme courts to emulate the American system. I bypassed the opportunity to discusst the fine points of the Walmart decision with him.
After the reception Jim had arranged for a tour of the building for us with the Procurator. She it is who has responsibility for the many artifacts and portraits contained in the building. And as the court's historian he works closely with her. A wonderfully accomodating person, she took us into nooks and cranies not ordinarily seen on routinue tours. She showed us, for instance, a newly completed portrait of Justice Brennan waiting in the wings until he retires or dies. They do not hang portraits of sitting justices. We were ushered into the courtroom itself and, although not encouraged to sit in one of the justices' chairs, could have sat on the side reserved for family members or the press section or even the seat reserved for visiting chief justices from other countries.
The sun was setting well to the north of the Washington Monument as we viewed that white obelisk from Capital Hill. It had cooled off a bit and Jim was walking Cheryl and me back to the Metro Stop. I was impressed with how long this friendship had endured with little personal contact over the years. I was also impressed with the strength of tradition and commitment to law which enforce narrow-majority decisions of this court. One resignation, one appointment can alter the course of legal history.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Heavy Seas
Sermon: (Mt. 14:1-3)
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Aug.7, 2011
Stories of the sea are plentiful in literature, both sacred and secular, and in the movies. I am thinking of Moby Dick, the great novel by Herman Melville about the great white whale, the movie Shipwrecked, and Tom Hank’s movie, Cast Away, to name a few. In Scripture we have the Great Flood and Noe’s Ark and Jonah and the Whale. Then there is today’s story of Jesus walking on the water.
There is something primal about deep water in our heritage that has stayed with us. Perhaps it is because we may be descended from animals that millions of years ago crawled out of the sea and began to live on dry land. Perhaps it is because we spend 9 months in the amniotic fluid of the womb before we are born and eventually learn to crawl on dry land. Perhaps it is because a large percentage of our body is water based. Perhaps it is because water is essential for our life. Perhaps it is because of all these things and more.
Deep water, such as the sea, can be threatening for creatures like ourselves who have to learn to swim and sail. We don’t have webbed feet. When there is wind behind it or when it comes in great amounts is has great power to destroy. Witness the hurricanes, tsunamis and floods that have plagued our planet in recent years. It also has the power to run tiny mills, like the one that used to stand down here on Horsehoe Creek or to generate electricity in massive kilowatts, like the hydroelectric plant on the Mississippi at Keokuk, IA near where I grew up.
Given the natural power of water, no wonder Jesus chose water as the sacrament of initiation into his supernatural life. He submitted himself to the baptism of John which was a baptism only of repentance and by so doing sanctified the act and made it a means of grace for us. The symbolism is of his death and resurrection. Through it we are born again. Jesus also spoke of living water as a means of filling up the void at the center of our souls.
So we come back to today’s gospel. Jesus has been toiling very hard in the ministry. He asks the Apostles to sail on ahead while He has time alone to commune with the Father. The Apostles run into heavy seas. The sea of Galilee , while only about the size of Lake St. Clair, was capable of sudden storms. They are getting nowhere until they see a ghost-like figure walking to them across the water. Jesus calms them and agrees to beckon Peter to come to Him. As long as Peter did not focus on his fears he was fine, but when he realized what he was doing, thinking he alone was doing it, he began to sink.
The message? We can do mighty things with the help of Him who strengthens us. It takes two to tango, however. We have to be willing to take the plunge of faith, and attempt to do what seems impossible and we have to continue to depend on Him. Once we think we are doing it all by ourselves, we give into our fears and sink. Think of times you were called on to handle situations in your life and that of your family that you didn’t see how you could possibly survive, let alone thrive. It seemed like you had to walk on water. But you did it with His help.
The spiritual implications of storms at sea are overwhelming. I wish share with you a conversion story shared with me recently by an old friend. He is a recovering alcoholic. At the time of this event, which was many years ago, he was newly sober but adrift, without God’s meaning to fill the void in His life. For whatever reason, he set out in a sail boat, a rather large one, into the Atlantic Ocean to make his way, all by himself, down the east coast to Florida. He got caught in a hurricane. The boat lost its power, so that he could neither control it nor radio for help. He gave up, believing the Gulf Stream would take him and he would never be found, if indeed the boat even weathered the storm. He was down in the hold, curled up, accepting what he thought his fate to be when Jesus came and sat next to him. Jesus simply said “You will be forgiven” and was gone. My friend decided all was not lost and that he had to take what control he could of the boat. First he wisely made a meal for himself in the galley and then went topside to take down the sails, which he had not done. Eventually, the hurricane subsided and he made his way into the coast, not knowing where he was. He docked at Charleston S.C. He not go on to Florida. Florida was not the intended destination anyway. He said it took him some years to realize what Jesus meant. He meant eventually you will forgive yourself for your previous life. My friend is now in the process of writing a book about his spiritual journey, of which that journey in the sea is a metaphor. Since his rebirth he has helped many, many people.
We can do all things in him who strengthens us, sailing through storms and metaphorically walking on water, if we are willing to take the plunge of faith and if we never forget whose wind is in our sails.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Aug.7, 2011
Stories of the sea are plentiful in literature, both sacred and secular, and in the movies. I am thinking of Moby Dick, the great novel by Herman Melville about the great white whale, the movie Shipwrecked, and Tom Hank’s movie, Cast Away, to name a few. In Scripture we have the Great Flood and Noe’s Ark and Jonah and the Whale. Then there is today’s story of Jesus walking on the water.
There is something primal about deep water in our heritage that has stayed with us. Perhaps it is because we may be descended from animals that millions of years ago crawled out of the sea and began to live on dry land. Perhaps it is because we spend 9 months in the amniotic fluid of the womb before we are born and eventually learn to crawl on dry land. Perhaps it is because a large percentage of our body is water based. Perhaps it is because water is essential for our life. Perhaps it is because of all these things and more.
Deep water, such as the sea, can be threatening for creatures like ourselves who have to learn to swim and sail. We don’t have webbed feet. When there is wind behind it or when it comes in great amounts is has great power to destroy. Witness the hurricanes, tsunamis and floods that have plagued our planet in recent years. It also has the power to run tiny mills, like the one that used to stand down here on Horsehoe Creek or to generate electricity in massive kilowatts, like the hydroelectric plant on the Mississippi at Keokuk, IA near where I grew up.
Given the natural power of water, no wonder Jesus chose water as the sacrament of initiation into his supernatural life. He submitted himself to the baptism of John which was a baptism only of repentance and by so doing sanctified the act and made it a means of grace for us. The symbolism is of his death and resurrection. Through it we are born again. Jesus also spoke of living water as a means of filling up the void at the center of our souls.
So we come back to today’s gospel. Jesus has been toiling very hard in the ministry. He asks the Apostles to sail on ahead while He has time alone to commune with the Father. The Apostles run into heavy seas. The sea of Galilee , while only about the size of Lake St. Clair, was capable of sudden storms. They are getting nowhere until they see a ghost-like figure walking to them across the water. Jesus calms them and agrees to beckon Peter to come to Him. As long as Peter did not focus on his fears he was fine, but when he realized what he was doing, thinking he alone was doing it, he began to sink.
The message? We can do mighty things with the help of Him who strengthens us. It takes two to tango, however. We have to be willing to take the plunge of faith, and attempt to do what seems impossible and we have to continue to depend on Him. Once we think we are doing it all by ourselves, we give into our fears and sink. Think of times you were called on to handle situations in your life and that of your family that you didn’t see how you could possibly survive, let alone thrive. It seemed like you had to walk on water. But you did it with His help.
The spiritual implications of storms at sea are overwhelming. I wish share with you a conversion story shared with me recently by an old friend. He is a recovering alcoholic. At the time of this event, which was many years ago, he was newly sober but adrift, without God’s meaning to fill the void in His life. For whatever reason, he set out in a sail boat, a rather large one, into the Atlantic Ocean to make his way, all by himself, down the east coast to Florida. He got caught in a hurricane. The boat lost its power, so that he could neither control it nor radio for help. He gave up, believing the Gulf Stream would take him and he would never be found, if indeed the boat even weathered the storm. He was down in the hold, curled up, accepting what he thought his fate to be when Jesus came and sat next to him. Jesus simply said “You will be forgiven” and was gone. My friend decided all was not lost and that he had to take what control he could of the boat. First he wisely made a meal for himself in the galley and then went topside to take down the sails, which he had not done. Eventually, the hurricane subsided and he made his way into the coast, not knowing where he was. He docked at Charleston S.C. He not go on to Florida. Florida was not the intended destination anyway. He said it took him some years to realize what Jesus meant. He meant eventually you will forgive yourself for your previous life. My friend is now in the process of writing a book about his spiritual journey, of which that journey in the sea is a metaphor. Since his rebirth he has helped many, many people.
We can do all things in him who strengthens us, sailing through storms and metaphorically walking on water, if we are willing to take the plunge of faith and if we never forget whose wind is in our sails.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Broken is Good
Sermon: (Gen 32:22-31, Rom 9:1-5, Matt 14:13-21)
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pent. 7, 7-31-11
This Loaves and Fishes story is perhaps the most well-known of Jesus’ miracles. It is found in all four Gospels, a rarity, and there are two other multiplication accounts in Matt and Mark in which Jesus feeds 4000. In these accounts he feeds 5000. He probably multiplied loaves and fishes twice.
There are good reasons why it is so well-known and often repeated. It is full of symbolism and had great meaning in the early church, a ragtag church which was persecuted. For one thing, the parallel between these accounts and the story of the Last Supper is obvious. In both cases, the ritual is similar. Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it and handed it out for food. That’s what He did at the Last Supper and that is what I do when I celebrate the Eucharist here. That’s what thousands of Christian priests and ministers do throughout the world when they celebrate the Eucharist, or serve Holy Communion or say Mass, whatever the terminology may be. As nearly as we can tell the early Christians did exactly the same thing in their little gatherings in homes and the catacombs. They told the stories about Jesus, especially this one about the loaves and fishes, and they would tell the story of the last Supper on their little tables which then became an altar. They broke the bread and distributed it and passed the cup. These became the Body and Blood of Christ, just as they do for us today.
That symbolism of the loaves and fishes, especially the fish, was used as a sign that the Eucharist was being celebrated in some hidden place. The Greek word for fish, IKTHYS stood for Jesus Christ, God’S Son,Savior. The simple outline of a fish can still be seen today on the walls of the catacombs in Rome.
Some doubting scholars over the years have tried to explain the miracles of Jesus as natural occurrences. The healings, for instance, were the result of the peoples’ faith that they would be healed. When He came walking on water He was simply stepping on stones, and when he supposedly feed 5000 or 4000 he encouraged people who had brought along a lunch to share it with the others. That doesn’t quite explain the 12 baskets left over, does it?
Obviously, I don’t agree with the total argument of those people, should we call them the rationalists. But I got to thinking about this multiplication miracle and realized there was an element of self-help involved. In every version Jesus first asks, when told the people were hungry, do we have some food? In today’s version the Apostles come forward with two 5 barley loaves and two fish. In another version they find a boy with some of the same. Jesus then takes what they have and somehow makes it into an abundance. In the Eucharist He takes our gifts and transforms them into spiritual food. This is so different from God’s miracles in the Old Testament. He fed the Hebrew people in the desert for like forty years, with manna and quails asking nothing by way of food from them as starter. Jesus, however, didn’t usually help unless he got participation. He did not heal wholesale. He wanted people to ask, to believe and to repent. This is participatory religion, not magic from on high.
Here’s a modern day story that was told to me as true. A couple of guys named Reb and Jackay had been working hard to open a restaurant in this little North Carolina town. They were waiting for their permit from the health department to open when Hurricane Hugo came 200 miles inland and just about destroyed the town, leaving only three buildings with power. Their restaurant, aptly named "Our Place," was one. They had 300 lbs of bacon and beef in their freezer, plus crates of lettuce tomatoes and bread ready to go, but the Health Inspector couldn’t get into his office and wouldn’t issue the permit to open. So the guys did the obvious thing. They gave it away, especially when they heard another restaurant was scalping people for food. Up went the sign, Free BLT’s and coffee for everyone. People flocked. The radio station picked it up and spread the word even further. Volunteers started helping the guys, waiting tables, doing dishes, cleaning the floor. People started bringing in the food from their freezers. Gonna spoil otherwise. A neighboring town that had not been hit so badly sent over supplies from their restaurants. The guys limited supplies increased to include 500 loaves of bread, cases of mayonnaise, 350 pots of coffee and bushels of produce. Before the day was over 16,000 meals were served. Miracles never cease to happen. And 12 baskets of leftover food were collected. (I just threw that last line in)
By the way, the Daisy Food Pantry at St. Paul’s, which serves the poor and whom we are pledged to support, needs 5 lb bags of flour, and sugar, jelly and spices.
I am going to close with the following prayer: As this broken bread once dispersed over the hills, was brought together and made into one loaf, so may your Church be brought together from the ends of the earth. May we, like this bread, like the Christ, be broken and shared with the world that all may be fed.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pent. 7, 7-31-11
This Loaves and Fishes story is perhaps the most well-known of Jesus’ miracles. It is found in all four Gospels, a rarity, and there are two other multiplication accounts in Matt and Mark in which Jesus feeds 4000. In these accounts he feeds 5000. He probably multiplied loaves and fishes twice.
There are good reasons why it is so well-known and often repeated. It is full of symbolism and had great meaning in the early church, a ragtag church which was persecuted. For one thing, the parallel between these accounts and the story of the Last Supper is obvious. In both cases, the ritual is similar. Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it and handed it out for food. That’s what He did at the Last Supper and that is what I do when I celebrate the Eucharist here. That’s what thousands of Christian priests and ministers do throughout the world when they celebrate the Eucharist, or serve Holy Communion or say Mass, whatever the terminology may be. As nearly as we can tell the early Christians did exactly the same thing in their little gatherings in homes and the catacombs. They told the stories about Jesus, especially this one about the loaves and fishes, and they would tell the story of the last Supper on their little tables which then became an altar. They broke the bread and distributed it and passed the cup. These became the Body and Blood of Christ, just as they do for us today.
That symbolism of the loaves and fishes, especially the fish, was used as a sign that the Eucharist was being celebrated in some hidden place. The Greek word for fish, IKTHYS stood for Jesus Christ, God’S Son,Savior. The simple outline of a fish can still be seen today on the walls of the catacombs in Rome.
Some doubting scholars over the years have tried to explain the miracles of Jesus as natural occurrences. The healings, for instance, were the result of the peoples’ faith that they would be healed. When He came walking on water He was simply stepping on stones, and when he supposedly feed 5000 or 4000 he encouraged people who had brought along a lunch to share it with the others. That doesn’t quite explain the 12 baskets left over, does it?
Obviously, I don’t agree with the total argument of those people, should we call them the rationalists. But I got to thinking about this multiplication miracle and realized there was an element of self-help involved. In every version Jesus first asks, when told the people were hungry, do we have some food? In today’s version the Apostles come forward with two 5 barley loaves and two fish. In another version they find a boy with some of the same. Jesus then takes what they have and somehow makes it into an abundance. In the Eucharist He takes our gifts and transforms them into spiritual food. This is so different from God’s miracles in the Old Testament. He fed the Hebrew people in the desert for like forty years, with manna and quails asking nothing by way of food from them as starter. Jesus, however, didn’t usually help unless he got participation. He did not heal wholesale. He wanted people to ask, to believe and to repent. This is participatory religion, not magic from on high.
Here’s a modern day story that was told to me as true. A couple of guys named Reb and Jackay had been working hard to open a restaurant in this little North Carolina town. They were waiting for their permit from the health department to open when Hurricane Hugo came 200 miles inland and just about destroyed the town, leaving only three buildings with power. Their restaurant, aptly named "Our Place," was one. They had 300 lbs of bacon and beef in their freezer, plus crates of lettuce tomatoes and bread ready to go, but the Health Inspector couldn’t get into his office and wouldn’t issue the permit to open. So the guys did the obvious thing. They gave it away, especially when they heard another restaurant was scalping people for food. Up went the sign, Free BLT’s and coffee for everyone. People flocked. The radio station picked it up and spread the word even further. Volunteers started helping the guys, waiting tables, doing dishes, cleaning the floor. People started bringing in the food from their freezers. Gonna spoil otherwise. A neighboring town that had not been hit so badly sent over supplies from their restaurants. The guys limited supplies increased to include 500 loaves of bread, cases of mayonnaise, 350 pots of coffee and bushels of produce. Before the day was over 16,000 meals were served. Miracles never cease to happen. And 12 baskets of leftover food were collected. (I just threw that last line in)
By the way, the Daisy Food Pantry at St. Paul’s, which serves the poor and whom we are pledged to support, needs 5 lb bags of flour, and sugar, jelly and spices.
I am going to close with the following prayer: As this broken bread once dispersed over the hills, was brought together and made into one loaf, so may your Church be brought together from the ends of the earth. May we, like this bread, like the Christ, be broken and shared with the world that all may be fed.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Dante's Beatrice
Sermon: (Mt. 13:31-33, 44-52)
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pent 6, 7-24-11
It’s a fact that Jesus often taught in roundabout ways. He used parables, analogies and similes to get His message across. Today’s gospel selection is a good example of this. It is a series of comparisons: The kingdom of heaven is like…this, that, and the other thing.
Why did He do this? Some have speculated that he did it because he was operating in a dangerous world. On the one hand, Rome the occupying power, was always sensitive to any threat to their domination. On the other hand, the Jewish religious establishment was also protective of their position and looked suspiciously at prophets who might be critical of their oppressive teachings. So He hid his message in stories and comparisons that would only be apparent to believers. That way He could preach longer before being silenced.
There may be some truth in that view. For our purposes, though, I think this other view is more helpful. God and His ways are vastly beyond the ability of our imagination to comprehend Him and them. He sent His Son to teach us about these spiritual realities that are so beyond our comprehension. He not only sent Him to teach us, but to be the bridge between the human and divine, between Himself and us. And in the process to help us travel the journey back to the Father. One of His descriptive phrases for that journey is the “Kingdom of Heaven.” Since it is all pretty much beyond us, He chose to use the parables and analogies to help us understand. So, today He, as quoted by Matthew, lists all these comparisons. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, like yeast, like a hidden treasure, like a merchant in search of fine pearls,, like a net thrown into the sea. Well, sermons have been preached on each one of these analogies or similes. After awhile we begin to get the picture. The Kingdom of heaven is not just where we go after we die, (where we hope we go, that is.) It is God’s kingdom, His way established already on earth and continuing into eternity. Each one of the similes gives us a glimpse into what God is like and what life with him is like. Not only that, they give us direction into how we can further His kingdom on earth ourselves and ultimately arrive at full knowledge and unity with Him. This fullness is referred to by theologians as the beatific vision.
Others have followed in the attempt to span the distance between God and man and to explain what that journey toward unity is like. One such is Dante Alighieri, the author of the Divine Comedy. Dante did in the 14th Century for the Italian language what in the 16th century Shakespeare did for English and Cervantes, the Author of Don Quixote, did for Spanish. He established Italian in place of latin as the artistic language of Italy and ultimately the official language.
The Divine Comedy is a classic in whatever language it is read. It is not called a comedy because it is funny, but because it has a happy ending. Shakespeares' plays are classified as tragedies or comedies depending on the happiness or not of the endings. The Divine Comedy a piece of allegorical fiction describing Dante’s own journey through Hell, Purgatory and finally to Heaven. Hence, the happy ending. Along the way Dante teaches about the Christian life, the capital sins that got people into hell and the cardinal virtues that got people into heaven. Through hell and purgatory, the latin poet Virgil, in fictitious form, is his guide. When he gets to heaven a woman named Beatrice is his guide to the higher mountains of the beatific vision, meeting God face to face.
By now you are thinking “What is he talking about?” Why is he talking about Beatrice? Because today we dedicate our beautiful new organ. I am naming her Beatrice, or at least I will be calling her Beatrice myself, because she will lead us to higher and higher levels of God’s beauty. Beatrice is our companion as we journey into the Kingdom of Heaven, starting here on earth.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pent 6, 7-24-11
It’s a fact that Jesus often taught in roundabout ways. He used parables, analogies and similes to get His message across. Today’s gospel selection is a good example of this. It is a series of comparisons: The kingdom of heaven is like…this, that, and the other thing.
Why did He do this? Some have speculated that he did it because he was operating in a dangerous world. On the one hand, Rome the occupying power, was always sensitive to any threat to their domination. On the other hand, the Jewish religious establishment was also protective of their position and looked suspiciously at prophets who might be critical of their oppressive teachings. So He hid his message in stories and comparisons that would only be apparent to believers. That way He could preach longer before being silenced.
There may be some truth in that view. For our purposes, though, I think this other view is more helpful. God and His ways are vastly beyond the ability of our imagination to comprehend Him and them. He sent His Son to teach us about these spiritual realities that are so beyond our comprehension. He not only sent Him to teach us, but to be the bridge between the human and divine, between Himself and us. And in the process to help us travel the journey back to the Father. One of His descriptive phrases for that journey is the “Kingdom of Heaven.” Since it is all pretty much beyond us, He chose to use the parables and analogies to help us understand. So, today He, as quoted by Matthew, lists all these comparisons. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, like yeast, like a hidden treasure, like a merchant in search of fine pearls,, like a net thrown into the sea. Well, sermons have been preached on each one of these analogies or similes. After awhile we begin to get the picture. The Kingdom of heaven is not just where we go after we die, (where we hope we go, that is.) It is God’s kingdom, His way established already on earth and continuing into eternity. Each one of the similes gives us a glimpse into what God is like and what life with him is like. Not only that, they give us direction into how we can further His kingdom on earth ourselves and ultimately arrive at full knowledge and unity with Him. This fullness is referred to by theologians as the beatific vision.
Others have followed in the attempt to span the distance between God and man and to explain what that journey toward unity is like. One such is Dante Alighieri, the author of the Divine Comedy. Dante did in the 14th Century for the Italian language what in the 16th century Shakespeare did for English and Cervantes, the Author of Don Quixote, did for Spanish. He established Italian in place of latin as the artistic language of Italy and ultimately the official language.
The Divine Comedy is a classic in whatever language it is read. It is not called a comedy because it is funny, but because it has a happy ending. Shakespeares' plays are classified as tragedies or comedies depending on the happiness or not of the endings. The Divine Comedy a piece of allegorical fiction describing Dante’s own journey through Hell, Purgatory and finally to Heaven. Hence, the happy ending. Along the way Dante teaches about the Christian life, the capital sins that got people into hell and the cardinal virtues that got people into heaven. Through hell and purgatory, the latin poet Virgil, in fictitious form, is his guide. When he gets to heaven a woman named Beatrice is his guide to the higher mountains of the beatific vision, meeting God face to face.
By now you are thinking “What is he talking about?” Why is he talking about Beatrice? Because today we dedicate our beautiful new organ. I am naming her Beatrice, or at least I will be calling her Beatrice myself, because she will lead us to higher and higher levels of God’s beauty. Beatrice is our companion as we journey into the Kingdom of Heaven, starting here on earth.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
RoundUp
Sermon: Gen 28:10-19, Rom 8:12-25, Mt. 13:24-30, 36-43
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 7-17-11
Having grown up on a farm I can certainly understand this parable of the wheat and the weeds. My father hated weeds in his corn fields. He hated them so much that he did everything he could to eradicate them. That meant I would be doing it with him. Understand please, those were the days before chemical weed killers, the herbicides, and the days of cheap gasoline. After the grain came up we would cultivate it by plowing with a tractor between the rows in order to do in the weeds. There would always be weeds. In a good year we might do that three times, about the same number of times you hoped to get a cutting of hay from the alfalfa fields. It was boring work, driving down the rows pulling the cultivator behind the tractor. On a hot summer day in western Illinois, especially just after dinner and the noon meal was called dinner, one could get a little drowsy. It did come to my father’s attention on a couple of occasions that I had fallen asleep and ran into the fence at the end of the field.
That was nothing compared with what came next. When the stalks got too tall to pull a cultivator over them there would still be weeds that had survived. It was true, like the gospel parable says, that you couldn’t pull the weeds out without uprooting the corn as well. And then you had defeated the whole purpose of the project. But my father was not to be outdone. He developed an ingenious method. He and I would go down the rows, sometimes on our knees, where there were weeds and cut them off with a knife. That way they were defeated and the corn survived. His corn fields were immaculate. As I said, my father hated weeds. I came to share the sentiment.
But that all changed with the advent of the fertilizers and herbicides and high gas prices. Farmers can’t afford to drive through their fields very many times in a season. They use chemicals to kill the weeds. Too bad I had already left the farm when that happened. I might have made a different career choice. Instead of standing up here preaching I might be a gentleman farmer in Illinoi, sitting on my front porch watching the corn grow without weeds and getting ready for the next cutting of alfalfa.
One of those chemicals is RoundUp. How many of you use RoundUp in your gardens and lawns? Pretty powerful, isn’t it? You have to be really careful with it, don’t you or you will kill the very plants you are trying to nurture. I can remember the first time I used it on my side walk to get the weeds out of the cracks. I wondered a couple of days later why the grass and flowers along the side of the walk were dead along with the weeds in the cracks. I had killed the plants I was trying to save.
So, even in this chemical era of agriculture, the parable still has meaning. The farmer in the parable is saying no, don’t uproot the weeds; you will pull up the wheat or the corn. Let them grow alongside together and at harvest time then you can separate them. I suspect my father didn’t like this parable and he heard it many times.
So, what does this all mean for us? That we should use RoundUp carefully in our gardens? Oh, we’re not getting off that easily.
There are several possible messages here. The popular one with folks is that the wheat are the good guys and the weeds are the bad guys. Of course, I am one of the good guys and see those other people over there. They’re the bad guys. They will burn at harvest time.
But I like this other interpretation. We are the field. In our field, in our lives, is both wheat and weeds. It is my job to cultivate the good crop and eradicate the bad growth. They grow side by side in my life. My calling is to transform myself in such a way that I am less self-centered, more giving, less hating, less lying, less gossiping, more looking out for others, less hurting them. It is a lifelong work. Paul in the reading from Romans is, I believe talking about the same things. He used the distinction between spirit and body, instead of wheat and weeds. We are called into sonship and daughtership with God. We are called to be so close to Him that we call him by the intimate name Abba.
It was fun this past week in San Francisco, observing our eighteen month old granddaughter calling her father “dada.” Abba is the Aramaic equivalent of dada. We are called in Paul’s words, to live the life of the spirit instead of the life of the flesh or in Matthew’s words to cherish the wheat and destroy the weeds. It is not easy. There is no magic spiritual can of RoundUp. Paul compares it to a lifelong birthing process. The whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now, he says. And not only creation but we ourselves groan inwardly as we wait for adoption, for the redemption of our bodies. And I thought it was painful crawling on the ground cutting those weeds!!
Are there weeds in our fields? Sure, some of our own making; some of others’ making. Some of those we can’t change. We just have to live with our own failings and those of others. But many, should I say most, we can change. We can transform them, can transform ourselves, before the great harvest, the great RoundUp.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 7-17-11
Having grown up on a farm I can certainly understand this parable of the wheat and the weeds. My father hated weeds in his corn fields. He hated them so much that he did everything he could to eradicate them. That meant I would be doing it with him. Understand please, those were the days before chemical weed killers, the herbicides, and the days of cheap gasoline. After the grain came up we would cultivate it by plowing with a tractor between the rows in order to do in the weeds. There would always be weeds. In a good year we might do that three times, about the same number of times you hoped to get a cutting of hay from the alfalfa fields. It was boring work, driving down the rows pulling the cultivator behind the tractor. On a hot summer day in western Illinois, especially just after dinner and the noon meal was called dinner, one could get a little drowsy. It did come to my father’s attention on a couple of occasions that I had fallen asleep and ran into the fence at the end of the field.
That was nothing compared with what came next. When the stalks got too tall to pull a cultivator over them there would still be weeds that had survived. It was true, like the gospel parable says, that you couldn’t pull the weeds out without uprooting the corn as well. And then you had defeated the whole purpose of the project. But my father was not to be outdone. He developed an ingenious method. He and I would go down the rows, sometimes on our knees, where there were weeds and cut them off with a knife. That way they were defeated and the corn survived. His corn fields were immaculate. As I said, my father hated weeds. I came to share the sentiment.
But that all changed with the advent of the fertilizers and herbicides and high gas prices. Farmers can’t afford to drive through their fields very many times in a season. They use chemicals to kill the weeds. Too bad I had already left the farm when that happened. I might have made a different career choice. Instead of standing up here preaching I might be a gentleman farmer in Illinoi, sitting on my front porch watching the corn grow without weeds and getting ready for the next cutting of alfalfa.
One of those chemicals is RoundUp. How many of you use RoundUp in your gardens and lawns? Pretty powerful, isn’t it? You have to be really careful with it, don’t you or you will kill the very plants you are trying to nurture. I can remember the first time I used it on my side walk to get the weeds out of the cracks. I wondered a couple of days later why the grass and flowers along the side of the walk were dead along with the weeds in the cracks. I had killed the plants I was trying to save.
So, even in this chemical era of agriculture, the parable still has meaning. The farmer in the parable is saying no, don’t uproot the weeds; you will pull up the wheat or the corn. Let them grow alongside together and at harvest time then you can separate them. I suspect my father didn’t like this parable and he heard it many times.
So, what does this all mean for us? That we should use RoundUp carefully in our gardens? Oh, we’re not getting off that easily.
There are several possible messages here. The popular one with folks is that the wheat are the good guys and the weeds are the bad guys. Of course, I am one of the good guys and see those other people over there. They’re the bad guys. They will burn at harvest time.
But I like this other interpretation. We are the field. In our field, in our lives, is both wheat and weeds. It is my job to cultivate the good crop and eradicate the bad growth. They grow side by side in my life. My calling is to transform myself in such a way that I am less self-centered, more giving, less hating, less lying, less gossiping, more looking out for others, less hurting them. It is a lifelong work. Paul in the reading from Romans is, I believe talking about the same things. He used the distinction between spirit and body, instead of wheat and weeds. We are called into sonship and daughtership with God. We are called to be so close to Him that we call him by the intimate name Abba.
It was fun this past week in San Francisco, observing our eighteen month old granddaughter calling her father “dada.” Abba is the Aramaic equivalent of dada. We are called in Paul’s words, to live the life of the spirit instead of the life of the flesh or in Matthew’s words to cherish the wheat and destroy the weeds. It is not easy. There is no magic spiritual can of RoundUp. Paul compares it to a lifelong birthing process. The whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now, he says. And not only creation but we ourselves groan inwardly as we wait for adoption, for the redemption of our bodies. And I thought it was painful crawling on the ground cutting those weeds!!
Are there weeds in our fields? Sure, some of our own making; some of others’ making. Some of those we can’t change. We just have to live with our own failings and those of others. But many, should I say most, we can change. We can transform them, can transform ourselves, before the great harvest, the great RoundUp.
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