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.
Friday, September 30, 2011
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.
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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.
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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.
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