“What are you looking for?”
Let me rephrase that: What are we looking for?
Over the last week, many of us have been looking for answers to the horrible event in Arizona. Answers to questions like, “Why?” “How could this have prevented?” and “What is wrong with this country?” During the last unsettling eight days, I noticed, and I hope that you did also, a rumbling, a stirring, maybe a whisper, of calls to right action, to put things right. Most notable to me were Jim Wallis’ call to transcend politics in response to violence; the First Lady’s call to service, inviting us to emulate Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and speak out against poverty, injustice and violence; the President’s speech at the memorial service at the University of Arizona, which was actually praised by some of his detractors; the calls by many, many, more, famous and not, to stop the bickering, stop the hate, and come together. Finally, there was a comment posted on iTunes by a young person in a review he posted about the 1979 film, Jesus:
“Man, if people just went by a few of his teachings, we wouldn’t be duckin’ all the time!”
And for those who asked, “Where was God in all this, or what would Jesus do?” I say, God was present, God received those who died in his loving embrace to live another life apart from ours, God opened the hearts and eyes of many to begin a dialogue of unity, sanity and reconciliation – we only pray that it continues until love is the answer, and not violence, when it comes to resolving differences.
And Jesus? What we’ve lived through is nothing new to him.
Jesus was born and lived in times more violent than ours. Israel was occupied by a foreign empire that sucked the life and taxes out of it – people struggled to exist and live through adversity and they undoubtedly thought they had lost favor with God. There were people, however, who looked for answers and wondered about life and their relationship with God, and they nurtured and kept alive the hope that began with Abraham and Moses as they waited for the Messiah. They flocked to teachers who stirred up that hope and kindled a flame for the Kingdom of God. John was one of those, and as he gathered his disciples to him on the banks of the Jordan River, he called them to repent and return to God. More and more people looking for answers, searching for a relationship with God, came to him. But he wasn’t who they thought he was – he wasn’t the anointed one. He told his followers that the one they were searching for would come and was already among them and He would restore the people of Israel to God.
John turned seekers toward Jesus, too. When Jesus walked by, John pointed him out to two of his own disciples, Andrew and another, and told them to follow.
And so they did. Following in this sense of the word meant a commitment to discipleship. But in this instance, not yet. Jesus, who didn’t miss a thing, turned to these two future apostles and says:
“What are you looking for?”
Rather than state the obvious, they response to the question with a question. Their answer is just strange – perhaps they were taken off guard that he actually noticed them, or they were nervous or tongue-tied – we’ve all been there, right? The moment when someone you open your mouth and the wrong thing comes out as you try to impress the new boss, a potential lover, your professor? These disciples ask, “Where are you staying?” If they had asked, “We’d like to know what you’re all about,” or “We want to join your movement,” and as a result got blunt answers and a glimpse into their futures, would they have followed? Instead, they ask a strange question. Jesus tells them, “Come and see.” It is gracious, simple, and it opens up new challenges, new possibilities and a new relationship with God for them. They went and saw; they spent the day with Jesus and later went to tell their family and friends about what they had done, who they had met. Our community, our Church, began with this invitation that was extended generation to generation, down to us.
“What are you looking for?” Jesus asks us.
Even today, especially today, we have curious seekers of the truth and light, looking for meaning in their lives and to events that we cannot understand. When you and I ask, “what are we looking for?” Jesus turns to us and says, “Come and see.” He states no conditions, no regulations, no two-year contract or small print at the bottom of a rapidly moving screen.
And so we come to Jesus, and we look for and we see in Christ a life as it should be for all of us. We are given hope, unconditional love and the promise of eternal life through our belief and faith. With these, we have the means to bring harmony and love to our communities, to the world.
We are children in and of the Kingdom, called by Christ to grow and change, to be living examples of our baptismal covenant: to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves, and to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.
Can you imagine a life as wonderful as that? Can you imagine an entire world like that?
“Come and see,” he says, and we say.
You and I are called to extend that simple and gracious invitation to those searching. We are invited to call to them and say, come stand in the light that dispels the darkness, come and realize love, come be with sisters and brothers of like mind, come and help work for change, take right action, come help stop the violence, come to the Father and stand at this table, come and embrace the Word.
Come and see, for Christ invites you, and you are welcome.
26 January, 2011
26 December, 2010
A Light Shines so Very Brightly...
A light unlike any other shines brightly this morning. It isn’t a beam of winter sunlight like those crossing a floor, but a spark has been ignited, an ember smolders deep within, and I believe it has been struck within me, within you, and you – all of us. All that’s required is fanning the flame with love, trust and belief. That kindling comes from a sentence as simple and as powerful as they come:
“In the beginning was the Word.”
It has been said that the the Gospel of John, the prologue to which you have just heard proclaimed, is a summary of Christian life -- conversion, baptism, Eucharist and quest for higher spirituality. It is a revelation of the true identity of Jesus and his connection to God. It has been called an apologia written in a time when the Johannine community was divided over the question of Jesus’ divinity. Or it is all of these.
This prologue continues the mystery and beauty of the Christmas story. We are invited to carry that mystery and beauty with us during the rest of the year, to move out of the dark spaces and corners in our lives towards the light that embraces, offers grace. John’s poetic language tells us that God wanted to lift us out of darkness so very much, that he did something deities and monarchs rarely do – God climbed off whatever throne we frail humans planted him on, and came down to our level. What’s even more amazing is that when God arrived, it was in the form of a helpless infant, born to common, yet uncommon people, and as he grew into manhood he experienced the joys, sorrows and delights of your average first century Galilean -- and inconceivable pain.
Why? Why did this extraordinary incarnation happen?
The obvious answer is atonement for humanity’s imperfect nature and actions, to bring us closer to God.
Here’s a better answer.
Love.
God loves us and went to a great deal of trouble to show us how it is to love perfectly and completely and it was done in the form of Jesus, who is our light dispelling darkness.
I used to call the days after Christmas Day the dark time. This started when I was a little girl and continued until I began to understand the difference between darkness and light where it concerns God.
Why did I call it the dark time? Christmas was over – Christmas trees were kicked to the curb; gone were the shiny decorations, the bright, colored lights, the fake snow in a can, the Glass Wax snowflake stenciling on the windows, the endless carols on the radio stations – the happy season of peace on earth and good will towards all was torn off the block of calendar sheets for another three hundred and sixty four days. It seemed to me, and this is my humble and personal observation, that the smiles on the faces people from Thanksgiving to Christmas, that look of expectancy, the sounds happy greetings and optimism, faded and people looked grim, worried, preoccupied – again.
The dark time was upon my world.
But, like so many other times in my life, I was dead wrong.
No, it is really a time of light; it started with the story of a child born in a manger, and continues with healing, of power beyond belief, a fullness of being, of humanity receiving grace upon grace and to be blessed with the gifts God has bestowed upon us through Jesus. Unfortunately, there were and are those who for whatever reason cannot recognize that Jesus is the light of the world and rejected the man and the message. But to those who accept him, then and now, and that is to say, put their trust in him, and made a commitment to the Word, a deeper relationship is formed with Jesus; he becomes our brother, and therefore, we become children of God.
Whatever darkness may envelop the world, whatever gloomy clouds may hang over us in our own lives, it cannot dim the light. We have grace from God to keep the light going. The smallest gesture of kindness, act of compassion, or work of mercy will light up the life of someone else, and in turn, will light up the world.
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."
With Christmas, we embark on a journey in light towards light. I invite you, my sisters and my brothers, to keep the candle in your hearts and souls burning after the merchants and high rises have packed away the decorations and silenced the carols for another year. Let every day be Christmas in your hearts. In just a week, we will embark on a new year with new possibilities, new hopes and dreams. As with every New Year there is a fresh canvas before us, waiting for us to apply the first brush stroke. Do we want to live in light and experience the love and grace offered to us, follow a path of endless possibilities in a life in Christ, or is it going to be business as usual with grim, set, faces, preoccupied with matters that we have no control over and live in a dark time?
Come, let’s dispel the darkness and walk in the light that is our brother the infant in the manager, the man walking in Capernaum, in the Temple, and our savior on the Cross.
“In the beginning was the Word.”
It has been said that the the Gospel of John, the prologue to which you have just heard proclaimed, is a summary of Christian life -- conversion, baptism, Eucharist and quest for higher spirituality. It is a revelation of the true identity of Jesus and his connection to God. It has been called an apologia written in a time when the Johannine community was divided over the question of Jesus’ divinity. Or it is all of these.
This prologue continues the mystery and beauty of the Christmas story. We are invited to carry that mystery and beauty with us during the rest of the year, to move out of the dark spaces and corners in our lives towards the light that embraces, offers grace. John’s poetic language tells us that God wanted to lift us out of darkness so very much, that he did something deities and monarchs rarely do – God climbed off whatever throne we frail humans planted him on, and came down to our level. What’s even more amazing is that when God arrived, it was in the form of a helpless infant, born to common, yet uncommon people, and as he grew into manhood he experienced the joys, sorrows and delights of your average first century Galilean -- and inconceivable pain.
Why? Why did this extraordinary incarnation happen?
The obvious answer is atonement for humanity’s imperfect nature and actions, to bring us closer to God.
Here’s a better answer.
Love.
God loves us and went to a great deal of trouble to show us how it is to love perfectly and completely and it was done in the form of Jesus, who is our light dispelling darkness.
I used to call the days after Christmas Day the dark time. This started when I was a little girl and continued until I began to understand the difference between darkness and light where it concerns God.
Why did I call it the dark time? Christmas was over – Christmas trees were kicked to the curb; gone were the shiny decorations, the bright, colored lights, the fake snow in a can, the Glass Wax snowflake stenciling on the windows, the endless carols on the radio stations – the happy season of peace on earth and good will towards all was torn off the block of calendar sheets for another three hundred and sixty four days. It seemed to me, and this is my humble and personal observation, that the smiles on the faces people from Thanksgiving to Christmas, that look of expectancy, the sounds happy greetings and optimism, faded and people looked grim, worried, preoccupied – again.
The dark time was upon my world.
But, like so many other times in my life, I was dead wrong.
No, it is really a time of light; it started with the story of a child born in a manger, and continues with healing, of power beyond belief, a fullness of being, of humanity receiving grace upon grace and to be blessed with the gifts God has bestowed upon us through Jesus. Unfortunately, there were and are those who for whatever reason cannot recognize that Jesus is the light of the world and rejected the man and the message. But to those who accept him, then and now, and that is to say, put their trust in him, and made a commitment to the Word, a deeper relationship is formed with Jesus; he becomes our brother, and therefore, we become children of God.
Whatever darkness may envelop the world, whatever gloomy clouds may hang over us in our own lives, it cannot dim the light. We have grace from God to keep the light going. The smallest gesture of kindness, act of compassion, or work of mercy will light up the life of someone else, and in turn, will light up the world.
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."
With Christmas, we embark on a journey in light towards light. I invite you, my sisters and my brothers, to keep the candle in your hearts and souls burning after the merchants and high rises have packed away the decorations and silenced the carols for another year. Let every day be Christmas in your hearts. In just a week, we will embark on a new year with new possibilities, new hopes and dreams. As with every New Year there is a fresh canvas before us, waiting for us to apply the first brush stroke. Do we want to live in light and experience the love and grace offered to us, follow a path of endless possibilities in a life in Christ, or is it going to be business as usual with grim, set, faces, preoccupied with matters that we have no control over and live in a dark time?
Come, let’s dispel the darkness and walk in the light that is our brother the infant in the manager, the man walking in Capernaum, in the Temple, and our savior on the Cross.
11 October, 2010
You Can't Park that Hummer in Heaven, My Friend...
The Kingdom of Heaven is a place where equality is and always will be. There are no barriers due to class, color or gender. All are loved and respected. Friends, do you believe that such a kingdom is within our reach, or is here and now?
I believe that it is within our grasp, and we have the means to make it tangible and real. We don’t have the extreme class divisions like those in the first century – oh, we have divisions aplenty, and they are visible, but today we have hope and opportunities to change our conditions. Unlike the poor today, Lazarus would not have been allowed to rise above his class even if he had been given purple cloth to wear instead of sores, or have a medical plan that offered antibiotics instead of a dog to wash his wounds. Nor would he have had a chance at a lottery for a bed in a local shelter rather than sleeping outside the Rich Man’s gate, or counselors to help teach new job skills..
The message we have this morning is a continuation of the themes we’ve heard over the past few weeks – coveting and hoarding wealth is not the way to earn points with God. God loves you, but don’t think for a minute God likes how you’re living large. Extreme wealth and extreme poverty are evident in society, but the wealth and richness of Christ’s good news are the treasures we should hold on to, as well as sharing what we have. As we have heard, “what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God.”
Now we all need money – it gives us the necessities of food, shelter, clothing, livelihood. Poverty can destroy one’s soul. But if we have the Gospel to live by, and we have the love of God through Christ, we have the foundation for the life that is true life, don’t you think? A bit simplistic, but Jesus asks us, and we are reminded every time we come to his table, that love is paramount, that we love one another as he loves us. Nothing simple in that message.
Two of the baptismal charges are that we seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves and to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being. The Rich Man didn’t have these, but he did have the words of Moses and the prophets to live by. Had he used his resources wisely for the benefit of the community, had he honored an obligation expected of him to the poor and oppressed, his end would have been different. The Rich Man did not grasp that his lack of compassion toward Lazarus was against the will of God. The tables turned on him. Lazarus did not earn his place in the hereafter, but received compensation for the misfortune and misery that was his earthly life and were beyond his control. We know what his life was, and we can guess what his needs were: clothing, shelter, food, medicine, companionship, what we know as basic necessities, and yet, they were denied him.
The Rich Man had needs too – he needed to serve his brother Lazarus, to experience a life that was a true, real life and one that he might have shared with people like Lazarus. But, in failing to recognize that money is a root of all kinds of evil, and, in failing to recognize Lazarus as an equal, the Rich Man builds a chasm between them – and so he finds himself staring up at Lazarus with Abraham. And even then he wants to use Lazarus for a servant, to give him a drop of water on his tongue.
Jesus’ parable illustrates that there is something better for us and more real than those materialistic things we long for – the reality that we were not created in isolation, but to love and be loved; not to use one another, but to be partners in a world that has endless possibilities for equality and justice. We were created not to face one another across chasms that we make, but to build bridges.
This parable has immediacy. It is for all who have ears to listen. And as we listen, perhaps we wonder which character in the story fits us best.
Lazarus? We all have needs and longings.
The Rich Man? There is that acquisitive, materialistic tendency in our society that is almost hypnotic…
If we are anyone, I think, it would be the brothers. Still living, we have the benefit of hearing this parable and knowing history, and as its current audience, we can learn what is required of us.
There is hope in our lessons today.
For all the wealthy in the world who are like the Rich Man, there are people who take their wealth and invest it in projects that may turn out to be the earthen jars containing deeds to life for millions of people. Not too long ago, I rallied parishiones to combine our wealth and gave over seven thousand dollars to Episcopal Relief and Development’s “Gifts for Life” to benefit emerging communities throughout the world. We’ve also given generously in time, talent and currency to help our own community in Berkeley.
We have the hope that is the Word, the prophets, we have God in Christ.
All of us have a Lazarus outside our gates; someone who presents an opportunity for us to live up to our baptismal promises. How we respond will decide our lives here and in the hereafter. The choice is up to us; we can build bridges across class divisions or create chasms to keep us apart. We can choose to offer our love now and not wait for the after life.
The Kingdom of Heaven is here and now; look around you. It is a place where we all have a part helping people at the gates, in the shelters, in hospitals and homes, in the workplace: some ‘do’ the work and some ‘lead,’ and there are some who go back and forth, leading over bridges, repairing them if they must – I like to call those people deacons. But let me tell you, deacons are not lone rangers or God’s commandos solving the world’s ills alone and standing up to injustice and inequality like a super hero – we cannot be a faith community of one – it is a community of many, a community where the poor in their common cloth may sit down at the table with the rich in their purple, where we all drink from the same cup and share a loaf of bread, where all are truly welcome.
My friends, the Kingdom of Heaven is like that, and like this.
I believe that it is within our grasp, and we have the means to make it tangible and real. We don’t have the extreme class divisions like those in the first century – oh, we have divisions aplenty, and they are visible, but today we have hope and opportunities to change our conditions. Unlike the poor today, Lazarus would not have been allowed to rise above his class even if he had been given purple cloth to wear instead of sores, or have a medical plan that offered antibiotics instead of a dog to wash his wounds. Nor would he have had a chance at a lottery for a bed in a local shelter rather than sleeping outside the Rich Man’s gate, or counselors to help teach new job skills..
The message we have this morning is a continuation of the themes we’ve heard over the past few weeks – coveting and hoarding wealth is not the way to earn points with God. God loves you, but don’t think for a minute God likes how you’re living large. Extreme wealth and extreme poverty are evident in society, but the wealth and richness of Christ’s good news are the treasures we should hold on to, as well as sharing what we have. As we have heard, “what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God.”
Now we all need money – it gives us the necessities of food, shelter, clothing, livelihood. Poverty can destroy one’s soul. But if we have the Gospel to live by, and we have the love of God through Christ, we have the foundation for the life that is true life, don’t you think? A bit simplistic, but Jesus asks us, and we are reminded every time we come to his table, that love is paramount, that we love one another as he loves us. Nothing simple in that message.
Two of the baptismal charges are that we seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves and to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being. The Rich Man didn’t have these, but he did have the words of Moses and the prophets to live by. Had he used his resources wisely for the benefit of the community, had he honored an obligation expected of him to the poor and oppressed, his end would have been different. The Rich Man did not grasp that his lack of compassion toward Lazarus was against the will of God. The tables turned on him. Lazarus did not earn his place in the hereafter, but received compensation for the misfortune and misery that was his earthly life and were beyond his control. We know what his life was, and we can guess what his needs were: clothing, shelter, food, medicine, companionship, what we know as basic necessities, and yet, they were denied him.
The Rich Man had needs too – he needed to serve his brother Lazarus, to experience a life that was a true, real life and one that he might have shared with people like Lazarus. But, in failing to recognize that money is a root of all kinds of evil, and, in failing to recognize Lazarus as an equal, the Rich Man builds a chasm between them – and so he finds himself staring up at Lazarus with Abraham. And even then he wants to use Lazarus for a servant, to give him a drop of water on his tongue.
Jesus’ parable illustrates that there is something better for us and more real than those materialistic things we long for – the reality that we were not created in isolation, but to love and be loved; not to use one another, but to be partners in a world that has endless possibilities for equality and justice. We were created not to face one another across chasms that we make, but to build bridges.
This parable has immediacy. It is for all who have ears to listen. And as we listen, perhaps we wonder which character in the story fits us best.
Lazarus? We all have needs and longings.
The Rich Man? There is that acquisitive, materialistic tendency in our society that is almost hypnotic…
If we are anyone, I think, it would be the brothers. Still living, we have the benefit of hearing this parable and knowing history, and as its current audience, we can learn what is required of us.
There is hope in our lessons today.
For all the wealthy in the world who are like the Rich Man, there are people who take their wealth and invest it in projects that may turn out to be the earthen jars containing deeds to life for millions of people. Not too long ago, I rallied parishiones to combine our wealth and gave over seven thousand dollars to Episcopal Relief and Development’s “Gifts for Life” to benefit emerging communities throughout the world. We’ve also given generously in time, talent and currency to help our own community in Berkeley.
We have the hope that is the Word, the prophets, we have God in Christ.
All of us have a Lazarus outside our gates; someone who presents an opportunity for us to live up to our baptismal promises. How we respond will decide our lives here and in the hereafter. The choice is up to us; we can build bridges across class divisions or create chasms to keep us apart. We can choose to offer our love now and not wait for the after life.
The Kingdom of Heaven is here and now; look around you. It is a place where we all have a part helping people at the gates, in the shelters, in hospitals and homes, in the workplace: some ‘do’ the work and some ‘lead,’ and there are some who go back and forth, leading over bridges, repairing them if they must – I like to call those people deacons. But let me tell you, deacons are not lone rangers or God’s commandos solving the world’s ills alone and standing up to injustice and inequality like a super hero – we cannot be a faith community of one – it is a community of many, a community where the poor in their common cloth may sit down at the table with the rich in their purple, where we all drink from the same cup and share a loaf of bread, where all are truly welcome.
My friends, the Kingdom of Heaven is like that, and like this.
10 August, 2010
A Servant, But Not Servile...
Years ago, colleague at my secular job made a comment about my vocation that stuck, and comes back every now and then to remind me of who and what I am.
I was asked very innocently, but respectfully, when I explained that diakonos translated to 'servant' in Greek, someone who waited at tables. I went on to explain that the stole the deacon in the church wore, the Byzantine stole that is worn across the body and throw over the left shoulder and down the back could very well signify the towel Jesus wore when he washed the feet of his disciples on that last Thursday night, or it could be the draping of the cloak. Take a look at ancient illustrations of Jesus and paintings of him and you'll see what I mean - the drape of the cloak is similiar to our stoles. I could be wrong, but the comment always invites an interesting conversation.
The comment my friend made was, "Why do you want to be a servant? People walk all over servants, take advantage of them, they get lousy wages."
I replied that waiters made good tips, and that one could serve others and not be servile.
I've lived and grown into that model over the years.
I've had excellent role models - the deacons Stephen and Laurence are excellent examples. Stephen was the one of the first seven to be ordained by the early church and the ministry Christ gave to him is illustrated in the Book of Acts at Chapter 6, verse 1 and continuing into all of Chapter 7. Stephens preaches a powerful sermon, an apology of the infant church, and is stoned to death - the first post-resurrection 'martyr' recorded. Martyr in greek translates to 'witness,' and Stephen's powerful, eloquent, preaching, is a witness to his faith and the power of Jesus working in him. Over a hundred years later, another deacon, Laurence, one of the seven deacons of Rome who served the Pope, would also use his words as witness and received death in response. Laurence was asked by the prefect to Valerian to bring to him the treasures of the church in three days' time. Three days passed, and Laurence brought the poor, homeless and the sick before the prefect stating that they were the treasures of the church. His comment got him grilled, literally, and he reportedly said before he died, "Turn me over, for I am done on this side." Wit and compassion, conviction. Faith, power and fearless before one's detractors.
Not very servile traits.
One can serve and still hold one's convictions and be powerful, using the strength of Christ as one lives out the Gospel.
I try to every day.
Go in peace, dear one!
E+
I was asked very innocently, but respectfully, when I explained that diakonos translated to 'servant' in Greek, someone who waited at tables. I went on to explain that the stole the deacon in the church wore, the Byzantine stole that is worn across the body and throw over the left shoulder and down the back could very well signify the towel Jesus wore when he washed the feet of his disciples on that last Thursday night, or it could be the draping of the cloak. Take a look at ancient illustrations of Jesus and paintings of him and you'll see what I mean - the drape of the cloak is similiar to our stoles. I could be wrong, but the comment always invites an interesting conversation.
The comment my friend made was, "Why do you want to be a servant? People walk all over servants, take advantage of them, they get lousy wages."
I replied that waiters made good tips, and that one could serve others and not be servile.
I've lived and grown into that model over the years.
I've had excellent role models - the deacons Stephen and Laurence are excellent examples. Stephen was the one of the first seven to be ordained by the early church and the ministry Christ gave to him is illustrated in the Book of Acts at Chapter 6, verse 1 and continuing into all of Chapter 7. Stephens preaches a powerful sermon, an apology of the infant church, and is stoned to death - the first post-resurrection 'martyr' recorded. Martyr in greek translates to 'witness,' and Stephen's powerful, eloquent, preaching, is a witness to his faith and the power of Jesus working in him. Over a hundred years later, another deacon, Laurence, one of the seven deacons of Rome who served the Pope, would also use his words as witness and received death in response. Laurence was asked by the prefect to Valerian to bring to him the treasures of the church in three days' time. Three days passed, and Laurence brought the poor, homeless and the sick before the prefect stating that they were the treasures of the church. His comment got him grilled, literally, and he reportedly said before he died, "Turn me over, for I am done on this side." Wit and compassion, conviction. Faith, power and fearless before one's detractors.
Not very servile traits.
One can serve and still hold one's convictions and be powerful, using the strength of Christ as one lives out the Gospel.
I try to every day.
Go in peace, dear one!
E+
13 April, 2010
Previously, in the Good News....
It’s low Sunday, but spirits are high – Jesus is risen and we are glad indeed. And here we are again to hear more of this marvelous story. Here’s a recap:
“. . . and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and the all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary, the mother of James, and the other women with them who told all this to the Apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. . .”
No idle tale, is it? And now the story continues from last week’s Easter gospel; it doesn’t end with a shadow on the beach, or a close up of a shroud in a grave as Hollywood gives us; the news spreads, the imperial government and its Temple collaborators get nervous, the excitement and joy builds. The story continues in the Book of Acts, Paul’s letters, the anonymous writings of first century Christians and not-so-anonymous persons, and in the lives of everyone who has heard the Good News and proclaimed it. The story has an epilogue, and we are it.
We are those who have not seen and yet, have come to believe. Jesus’ blessing on those who come to faith without the necessity of sight or touch is not a chiding of Thomas for his lack of faith at that moment, but an affirmation of the generations who have relied on the Word and Thomas’ actions for their faith.
Thomas is called the Doubter. He was bold to have stood before his friends and fellow disciples to say, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” Where did this come from? Was it that Thomas still didn’t get it, or was it grief, fear or shame taking up space in his heart and mind? His teacher and leader had been executed as a criminal, after all; perhaps he didn’t want to believe for fear of what it meant – crucifixion. Or, it was grief at the loss of someone he loved taking hold and putting him into denial. Perhaps all of the above. We don’t know why Thomas wasn’t with the others when Jesus first appeared to them – there’s no clue – but it begs the imagination, doesn’t it? He might have been going out for food for the rest, but what if he engaged in the work Jesus called him to, in full sight of Jesus' persecutors. Imagine Thomas saying, "Yes, you killed him! But it doesn't kill the message or the meaning! Here I am, doing exactly what he was doing! What are you going to do about it?"
But he is called Doubting Thomas and that nickname has become an appellation for those of us who steadfastly refuse to believe or take at face value what we cannot see.
Haven’t we all at one time, questioned what we’ve been taught or told, or seen, especially when the hour and the day are dark and feel without promise? When those moments come, God puts into play or reveals something that turns one from being faithless to faithful, something like the Resurrection. Remember Paul’s words to the Hebrews: “now faith is a well-grounded assurance of that for which we hope, and a conviction of the reality of things which we do not see.”
Faith requires that we who have not seen, believe. Belief that the Kingdom is here and now, belief that God is always with us.
God came to us in the form and blessing of Jesus. So many prophets came before Jesus claiming to be the Christ but they slipped away into obscurity, suffered ignominious deaths like Jesus. What made him so different?
He was who he said he was. He did what he said he was going to do. The resurrection of Christ gave new life to humanity, to those who believed. What was promised by Jesus in his teaching was and is being lived out. The apostles, the first followers of Jesus, proclaimed the good news of the Kingdom - what Jesus promised in his teachings and ministry was made true. The followers of Jesus live out the new commandment - that they love one another as Jesus loved them, and in attending to the needs of one another, what Jesus commanded was made tangible and real.
The apostles became the leaders of the movement and strived to live as they were taught, showing that “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a great family of different people, living together, loving one another and all living in equality.” What Jesus demonstrated in his ministry was kept alive by the faith, belief and right action.
And this is where we come in.
We are now the disciples, called to keep the Good News in play, to keep the Word in our hearts and minds, and to keep it alive. How you and I do this depends on the gifts God has given each one of us, and how the Spirit moves within us.
We’re always looking for new ways to proclaim the Gospel, to tell the story, to keep it fresh and alive. Jesus walks with us every step of the way - sometimes we have to open our hearts and minds a bit wider to see him, get past our own wounds so that we can see his. No, we haven’t seen the five wounds except in artwork and in scripture, but we know they are real. Every time we say ‘peace be with you,’ Christ says it to us. And when I send people out at the end of the service to go in peace to love and serve the Lord, I mean it. Again, how you follow through is dependent on what you called to do.
It’s time for us to pick up our pens and continue the story. What will you write on the page? Perhaps it will be to say that you and I can see Jesus working in our lives and we are continually blessed by that grace - sight unseen.
Let’s show the world in thought, word and deed, that Christ is our Lord and our God – show the world that we believe.
“. . . and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and the all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary, the mother of James, and the other women with them who told all this to the Apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. . .”
No idle tale, is it? And now the story continues from last week’s Easter gospel; it doesn’t end with a shadow on the beach, or a close up of a shroud in a grave as Hollywood gives us; the news spreads, the imperial government and its Temple collaborators get nervous, the excitement and joy builds. The story continues in the Book of Acts, Paul’s letters, the anonymous writings of first century Christians and not-so-anonymous persons, and in the lives of everyone who has heard the Good News and proclaimed it. The story has an epilogue, and we are it.
We are those who have not seen and yet, have come to believe. Jesus’ blessing on those who come to faith without the necessity of sight or touch is not a chiding of Thomas for his lack of faith at that moment, but an affirmation of the generations who have relied on the Word and Thomas’ actions for their faith.
Thomas is called the Doubter. He was bold to have stood before his friends and fellow disciples to say, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” Where did this come from? Was it that Thomas still didn’t get it, or was it grief, fear or shame taking up space in his heart and mind? His teacher and leader had been executed as a criminal, after all; perhaps he didn’t want to believe for fear of what it meant – crucifixion. Or, it was grief at the loss of someone he loved taking hold and putting him into denial. Perhaps all of the above. We don’t know why Thomas wasn’t with the others when Jesus first appeared to them – there’s no clue – but it begs the imagination, doesn’t it? He might have been going out for food for the rest, but what if he engaged in the work Jesus called him to, in full sight of Jesus' persecutors. Imagine Thomas saying, "Yes, you killed him! But it doesn't kill the message or the meaning! Here I am, doing exactly what he was doing! What are you going to do about it?"
But he is called Doubting Thomas and that nickname has become an appellation for those of us who steadfastly refuse to believe or take at face value what we cannot see.
Haven’t we all at one time, questioned what we’ve been taught or told, or seen, especially when the hour and the day are dark and feel without promise? When those moments come, God puts into play or reveals something that turns one from being faithless to faithful, something like the Resurrection. Remember Paul’s words to the Hebrews: “now faith is a well-grounded assurance of that for which we hope, and a conviction of the reality of things which we do not see.”
Faith requires that we who have not seen, believe. Belief that the Kingdom is here and now, belief that God is always with us.
God came to us in the form and blessing of Jesus. So many prophets came before Jesus claiming to be the Christ but they slipped away into obscurity, suffered ignominious deaths like Jesus. What made him so different?
He was who he said he was. He did what he said he was going to do. The resurrection of Christ gave new life to humanity, to those who believed. What was promised by Jesus in his teaching was and is being lived out. The apostles, the first followers of Jesus, proclaimed the good news of the Kingdom - what Jesus promised in his teachings and ministry was made true. The followers of Jesus live out the new commandment - that they love one another as Jesus loved them, and in attending to the needs of one another, what Jesus commanded was made tangible and real.
The apostles became the leaders of the movement and strived to live as they were taught, showing that “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a great family of different people, living together, loving one another and all living in equality.” What Jesus demonstrated in his ministry was kept alive by the faith, belief and right action.
And this is where we come in.
We are now the disciples, called to keep the Good News in play, to keep the Word in our hearts and minds, and to keep it alive. How you and I do this depends on the gifts God has given each one of us, and how the Spirit moves within us.
We’re always looking for new ways to proclaim the Gospel, to tell the story, to keep it fresh and alive. Jesus walks with us every step of the way - sometimes we have to open our hearts and minds a bit wider to see him, get past our own wounds so that we can see his. No, we haven’t seen the five wounds except in artwork and in scripture, but we know they are real. Every time we say ‘peace be with you,’ Christ says it to us. And when I send people out at the end of the service to go in peace to love and serve the Lord, I mean it. Again, how you follow through is dependent on what you called to do.
It’s time for us to pick up our pens and continue the story. What will you write on the page? Perhaps it will be to say that you and I can see Jesus working in our lives and we are continually blessed by that grace - sight unseen.
Let’s show the world in thought, word and deed, that Christ is our Lord and our God – show the world that we believe.
14 March, 2010
Found!
Here we are at Joyful Sunday, Mothering Sunday, Refreshment Sunday, Rose Sunday – many names for a day whose readings give us much to rejoice about, especially our Gospel lesson: love, forgiveness and joy. The focus of the Gospel, however, is not a mother, but a father whose actions are contrary to his society’s traditions, as are the actions of his sons, and his response. Even the parable is revolutionary and disturbing for its time. Nor do I think the shock and awe of this story has worn off after so many centuries.
What would you do if you were sitting down to dinner with a few friends others thought unsavory or unsuitable - tax collectors, sinners, outcasts, to name a few - and the local authorities started to complain about your behavior, the people you associate with?
We know what Jesus would do – he would teach them, illustrate his actions, his message, and what the Kingdom of Heaven was all about, with a parable.
This story about the loving father taught the Pharisees and scribes that there was no either/or with God, nor with Jesus or the Good News he brought to us. Yet it was, and is still, difficult not to think in terms of black and white: good son or bad son, Pharisee or tax collector, saint or sinner. Fortunately, God doesn’t roll that way. In all of the lessons this morning, we hear how God works with, in and through us towards reconciliation and forgiveness, with love, and offers us new lives.
See what happens at the end of our story this morning.
A father responds with patience and love to both of his sons. He puts aside propriety and runs to greet his boy – patriarchs didn’t run in first century Judea; CEOs don’t run in the 21st century – Rather than wait at the house surrounded by family and servants, or with the Board of Directors in a conference room, and demand an explanation, and it darn well better be a pretty good explanation from the boy, the father welcomes his son home with an embrace. When his eldest son reacts negatively and with jealousy to the honor his brother receives, especially the party, and that fact that his brother is being treated as if he’s only been on a trip for the family business, the father goes out to him – again, patriarchs didn’t do that in first century Judea; do you think a CEO would go out to explain an interoffice memo to a line worker? – The father invites him to come in saying, “. . . you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” He also gives freely – to the youngest, he first gives an inheritance, then a robe, a ring and a party. To the eldest, he gives all that he has. No questions asked. No hesitation, no conditions.
This is how God responds to us. This demonstrates love and a willingness to forgive behavior that was unacceptable, and that God is willing to do the same. God is the father in this parable.
What I like about the story and you may agree with me here – or not – is that we have no ending. There’s no “and they all sat down to a fine meal and made merry and lived happily ever after.” It is left to us to decide what happens next, to think about what we’ve just heard and apply it to our own situations and lives – and isn’t that a way of God’s working in us? I would like to think that after the eldest brother got over the resentment and anger, he took a moment to reflect on the blessings in his life, on his family, and that he came around and welcomed his brother back and the relationship between them, and their father, was restored. Doesn’t this remind you of Joseph and his brothers, or Jacob and Esau? Or that fight you had with a parent, sibling, your lover? Your friend? After you came around, the initial moments of nervous conversation and confession were rough to the point of pain, but when you said, “I’m sorry, forgive me,” or you both said it at once, didn’t you just want to go out and celebrate?
Although the emphasis here is on love and reconciliation, there’s no denying that each of the players in this story is lost in some way. Both sons are lost - the youngest son for his bad choices and behavior, the elder son for his self-righteousness and anger, his jealousy. The father is lost by his society’s standards: he’s weak, a bit of a pushover, and he takes action out of love for his sons, rather than his standing in the community and as a patriarch. God is at work here and moves him towards forgiveness.
With this parable, Jesus takes us beyond a commentary on sin and righteousness to give us a sense of what it truly means to be in relationship to others and to the Lord. Yes, he socializes with tax collectors and sinners, but how glad will God be when those same people amend their lives because they have heard Jesus’ words and believed, they who were once lost, are now found? The dutiful son and the disobedient son, the Pharisee and the Savior, all are worthy of God’s love. The Kingdom of Heaven is like that!
We are all lost in some way - give us a garden to live in and we will disobey the simple rules on the gate and be evicted, offer us a covenant we’ll manage to break it, find a way to get out of it. Provide us with a Messiah – you know the rest.
But we are found, and that is more than enough reason to be joyful on this Sunday and every day. We are found, and it is through the prodigious, boundless, grace of God and love and the Good News of Jesus. And the parable we have just heard is not simply one of the best and well-crafted of stories, it is an illustration of what it means to be redeemed.
What would you do if you were sitting down to dinner with a few friends others thought unsavory or unsuitable - tax collectors, sinners, outcasts, to name a few - and the local authorities started to complain about your behavior, the people you associate with?
We know what Jesus would do – he would teach them, illustrate his actions, his message, and what the Kingdom of Heaven was all about, with a parable.
This story about the loving father taught the Pharisees and scribes that there was no either/or with God, nor with Jesus or the Good News he brought to us. Yet it was, and is still, difficult not to think in terms of black and white: good son or bad son, Pharisee or tax collector, saint or sinner. Fortunately, God doesn’t roll that way. In all of the lessons this morning, we hear how God works with, in and through us towards reconciliation and forgiveness, with love, and offers us new lives.
See what happens at the end of our story this morning.
A father responds with patience and love to both of his sons. He puts aside propriety and runs to greet his boy – patriarchs didn’t run in first century Judea; CEOs don’t run in the 21st century – Rather than wait at the house surrounded by family and servants, or with the Board of Directors in a conference room, and demand an explanation, and it darn well better be a pretty good explanation from the boy, the father welcomes his son home with an embrace. When his eldest son reacts negatively and with jealousy to the honor his brother receives, especially the party, and that fact that his brother is being treated as if he’s only been on a trip for the family business, the father goes out to him – again, patriarchs didn’t do that in first century Judea; do you think a CEO would go out to explain an interoffice memo to a line worker? – The father invites him to come in saying, “. . . you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” He also gives freely – to the youngest, he first gives an inheritance, then a robe, a ring and a party. To the eldest, he gives all that he has. No questions asked. No hesitation, no conditions.
This is how God responds to us. This demonstrates love and a willingness to forgive behavior that was unacceptable, and that God is willing to do the same. God is the father in this parable.
What I like about the story and you may agree with me here – or not – is that we have no ending. There’s no “and they all sat down to a fine meal and made merry and lived happily ever after.” It is left to us to decide what happens next, to think about what we’ve just heard and apply it to our own situations and lives – and isn’t that a way of God’s working in us? I would like to think that after the eldest brother got over the resentment and anger, he took a moment to reflect on the blessings in his life, on his family, and that he came around and welcomed his brother back and the relationship between them, and their father, was restored. Doesn’t this remind you of Joseph and his brothers, or Jacob and Esau? Or that fight you had with a parent, sibling, your lover? Your friend? After you came around, the initial moments of nervous conversation and confession were rough to the point of pain, but when you said, “I’m sorry, forgive me,” or you both said it at once, didn’t you just want to go out and celebrate?
Although the emphasis here is on love and reconciliation, there’s no denying that each of the players in this story is lost in some way. Both sons are lost - the youngest son for his bad choices and behavior, the elder son for his self-righteousness and anger, his jealousy. The father is lost by his society’s standards: he’s weak, a bit of a pushover, and he takes action out of love for his sons, rather than his standing in the community and as a patriarch. God is at work here and moves him towards forgiveness.
With this parable, Jesus takes us beyond a commentary on sin and righteousness to give us a sense of what it truly means to be in relationship to others and to the Lord. Yes, he socializes with tax collectors and sinners, but how glad will God be when those same people amend their lives because they have heard Jesus’ words and believed, they who were once lost, are now found? The dutiful son and the disobedient son, the Pharisee and the Savior, all are worthy of God’s love. The Kingdom of Heaven is like that!
We are all lost in some way - give us a garden to live in and we will disobey the simple rules on the gate and be evicted, offer us a covenant we’ll manage to break it, find a way to get out of it. Provide us with a Messiah – you know the rest.
But we are found, and that is more than enough reason to be joyful on this Sunday and every day. We are found, and it is through the prodigious, boundless, grace of God and love and the Good News of Jesus. And the parable we have just heard is not simply one of the best and well-crafted of stories, it is an illustration of what it means to be redeemed.
07 February, 2010
Here I am, Lord - now throw me one of those nets!
One of the few memories I have of my father is the morning he took me fishing. We sat on the end of the pier in Rodeo and he showed me how to bait the hook, cast the line – and wait. And wait. Oh, and wait some more. It was frustrating, just sitting there, though it was nice to watch the morning sun on the water, the barges coming in and out of the refinery wharf, the goats in the field across the road from the pier – I desperately wanted to keep those goats at a distance. So much preparation went into the adventure before we even left the apartment, that I thought surely we would come home with something to eat.
We did.
My father stopped by the market and brought home a can of tuna.
Fishing is hard work, an art form, and one needs a lot of patience and perseverance to succeed, and for the people of living around Lake Gennesaret, the location of this morning’s Gospel, it was their whole economy. A day coming up empty was discouraging to say the very least. We’ve just heard that it was here Jesus asks Simon to take him out in the boat so that he could teach the crowds gathering at the shore. After preaching, he asks Simon to go further out, into deeper water and drop the nets again. Simon knows Jesus – he came to Simon’s house and healed his Simon’s mother-in-law – Jesus can heal, can teach, preach, but can he fish? And yet Simon says, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing; yet, if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
Simon does what is asked of him, perhaps in the midst of doubt, for his experience is that the lake is empty. As always, when it is least expected, the Lord provides with abundance, and the catch pulled in begins to break the nets and a second boat is called for. Simon cries out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” This response is not so much a confession of guilt, or moral failing, but an expression of awe to be in God’s presence, and to witness the working of such power and to receive the grace offered without condition. Jesus reassures Simon, James and John not to fear, for they will be bringing in a different catch soon – men and women to new life, using as bait the good news of the Gospel in Christ.
The lessons we hear during Epiphany call us to focus on a new direction to ministry – they focus on the actions of those who hear and respond to God’s call, and this is illustrated in the Gospel and in the Hebrew scripture this morning. The lessons speak to the unwilling, ever-cautious, if not fearful, evangelist in all of us. Standing at the shore and listening to Jesus’ message is one thing, but climbing into that boat and throwing the nets overboard and expecting a catch is another. Doubt of our abilities, lack of self-assurance, stint our efforts. Maybe it’s the need to keep the faith to ourselves, or the fear that no one will hear us, or think we’re something we’re not, or just think we’re crazy. Sometimes, when we tell people we’re Christian, they take two steps backward and nod slowly. Or, it could be one simple thing - maybe we think we’re not up for the task or the challenge. We're flawed, intemperant at times, selfish, just not what what we think God wants in a servant, someone to proclaim the Good News.
Here’s where Isaiah and Simon are our instructors.
Isaiah assumed he would perish gazing on the Lord, and voiced a profound sense of his own unworthiness in the presence of the Lord, and as a sinner, he expected to die. Once he has the assurance of God’s grace, he jumps at the chance offered, answers the Lord’s call. “Here am I! Send me!” He is prepared to deliver a disturbing, dark message to the people of Israel - anything but Good News.
And then, there’s Simon.
Simon is a flawed hero – he is a failure more times than not. He tries, he swings and misses, he fails and tries again, and again. He doesn’t get it at first, and he bolts at the worst of times – but he comes back. He’s pretty brave. He doesn’t let his shortcomings block God’s work, or muddy the Good News with his own interpretation. Despite all these flaws, Jesus loves him so much that he entrusts the church to his care, changes his name from Simon to Cephas – the rock. The foundation.
Do you and I have that courage? Are we brave enough to try and fail repeatedly until we get it right? Remember how it felt to say, “Here I am, Lord!” when you heard the call? Remember the elation, and then the dread? Wondering if you could follow through?
Let’s think about the invitation Jesus extends.
For Peter, it was walking away from everything he knew and loved, and the certainty of death. For we Christians today, I believe it is laid out in the New Commandment, to love one another as Christ loves us, in his instruction to the disciples that whenever we act in compassion towards another, we do the same for Christ, and in the baptismal covenant, five questions after the affirmation of God and Christ: Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers? Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord? Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
To each of these questions we are compelled to respond, “Yes, with your help, Lord! Here I am! Send me!” Easy enough to say, but sometimes a bit difficult to live into – no? Yes? But we are up for the challenge and equal to the task. We are asked to do something revolutionary for today’s society. We are asked to put God before all else, we are asked to love, we are asked to reach outside our comfort zones and what is safe, to make a lifelong commitment to love and service. Christians of all denominations are truly blessed with a wealth of gifts that address each of the five questions in the Baptismal covenant. It is a living and continuing proof that each of us, with our unique gifts, and by the grace of God, continue to say “Send me!” when the call comes, and go willingly when Christ says, “Come, put down the nets.”
We did.
My father stopped by the market and brought home a can of tuna.
Fishing is hard work, an art form, and one needs a lot of patience and perseverance to succeed, and for the people of living around Lake Gennesaret, the location of this morning’s Gospel, it was their whole economy. A day coming up empty was discouraging to say the very least. We’ve just heard that it was here Jesus asks Simon to take him out in the boat so that he could teach the crowds gathering at the shore. After preaching, he asks Simon to go further out, into deeper water and drop the nets again. Simon knows Jesus – he came to Simon’s house and healed his Simon’s mother-in-law – Jesus can heal, can teach, preach, but can he fish? And yet Simon says, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing; yet, if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
Simon does what is asked of him, perhaps in the midst of doubt, for his experience is that the lake is empty. As always, when it is least expected, the Lord provides with abundance, and the catch pulled in begins to break the nets and a second boat is called for. Simon cries out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” This response is not so much a confession of guilt, or moral failing, but an expression of awe to be in God’s presence, and to witness the working of such power and to receive the grace offered without condition. Jesus reassures Simon, James and John not to fear, for they will be bringing in a different catch soon – men and women to new life, using as bait the good news of the Gospel in Christ.
The lessons we hear during Epiphany call us to focus on a new direction to ministry – they focus on the actions of those who hear and respond to God’s call, and this is illustrated in the Gospel and in the Hebrew scripture this morning. The lessons speak to the unwilling, ever-cautious, if not fearful, evangelist in all of us. Standing at the shore and listening to Jesus’ message is one thing, but climbing into that boat and throwing the nets overboard and expecting a catch is another. Doubt of our abilities, lack of self-assurance, stint our efforts. Maybe it’s the need to keep the faith to ourselves, or the fear that no one will hear us, or think we’re something we’re not, or just think we’re crazy. Sometimes, when we tell people we’re Christian, they take two steps backward and nod slowly. Or, it could be one simple thing - maybe we think we’re not up for the task or the challenge. We're flawed, intemperant at times, selfish, just not what what we think God wants in a servant, someone to proclaim the Good News.
Here’s where Isaiah and Simon are our instructors.
Isaiah assumed he would perish gazing on the Lord, and voiced a profound sense of his own unworthiness in the presence of the Lord, and as a sinner, he expected to die. Once he has the assurance of God’s grace, he jumps at the chance offered, answers the Lord’s call. “Here am I! Send me!” He is prepared to deliver a disturbing, dark message to the people of Israel - anything but Good News.
And then, there’s Simon.
Simon is a flawed hero – he is a failure more times than not. He tries, he swings and misses, he fails and tries again, and again. He doesn’t get it at first, and he bolts at the worst of times – but he comes back. He’s pretty brave. He doesn’t let his shortcomings block God’s work, or muddy the Good News with his own interpretation. Despite all these flaws, Jesus loves him so much that he entrusts the church to his care, changes his name from Simon to Cephas – the rock. The foundation.
Do you and I have that courage? Are we brave enough to try and fail repeatedly until we get it right? Remember how it felt to say, “Here I am, Lord!” when you heard the call? Remember the elation, and then the dread? Wondering if you could follow through?
Let’s think about the invitation Jesus extends.
For Peter, it was walking away from everything he knew and loved, and the certainty of death. For we Christians today, I believe it is laid out in the New Commandment, to love one another as Christ loves us, in his instruction to the disciples that whenever we act in compassion towards another, we do the same for Christ, and in the baptismal covenant, five questions after the affirmation of God and Christ: Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers? Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord? Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
To each of these questions we are compelled to respond, “Yes, with your help, Lord! Here I am! Send me!” Easy enough to say, but sometimes a bit difficult to live into – no? Yes? But we are up for the challenge and equal to the task. We are asked to do something revolutionary for today’s society. We are asked to put God before all else, we are asked to love, we are asked to reach outside our comfort zones and what is safe, to make a lifelong commitment to love and service. Christians of all denominations are truly blessed with a wealth of gifts that address each of the five questions in the Baptismal covenant. It is a living and continuing proof that each of us, with our unique gifts, and by the grace of God, continue to say “Send me!” when the call comes, and go willingly when Christ says, “Come, put down the nets.”
28 November, 2009
Giving Thanks for Mom - Don't Worry!
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?”
If my mother had heard me proclaim these words of Christ, she wouldn’t have said anything, but her actions would have spoken volumes. She would have been quiet on the ride home and once back in the kitchen, she’d still not say a word – but bang the spoon on the pot, shut the oven door a bit too forcefully, and just stare me down – I’d get what my high school sweetheart called, “la musa dura;” the hard look, and eventually she’d say in her deep, low voice, “Yeah right, already. What do you mean, ‘Don’t worry?’”
This is a woman who worried all of her thirty-nine years for good reason. She worried about where the money was going to come from for clothes and food for six children, worried about paying the rent on time, worried about the utilities being paid up in full, worried where the next job was going to come from when she lost a job, worried about what would happen to us when she was gone.
Forty years after her death, and in this, the year, and on this, the day on which she would have turned eighty, I’m proud to stand before you, my sisters and my brothers, and tell you that Jeannette Ekstrom’s kids managed just fine using what she taught all of us, and we turned out okay.
But the worrying hasn’t gone away. We worry about the same things. Raise your hand if you haven’t lain awake nights worrying about the necessities of life.
It’s very hard in these tough economic times to hear these beautiful words of Jesus, “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’” Is he saying to us that we should just pull the covers over our heads at dawn’s first light and snuggle down for a few more hours of sleep, not bother to get up and go to work if we have jobs, not look for work if we don’t, and not worry about the past due notices piling up?
Here’s what I think – no.
Jesus asks us in this incredibly beautiful passage from the Sermon on the Mount that we should turn to God and to strive to enter the Kingdom first before we turn to the difficult task of daily life. Note the word, strive – work towards it, make it a goal. Make it a priority. What I am suggesting is make it the very first item on your to-do list, even before you turn on the coffee maker, or take up your place in the queue at the coffee shop. He knows that the task is daunting and road is rough. But once we surrender our hearts to God’s unconditional love, set our minds on what we are called to do in Christ’s name, then we have the means to provide for and help those who cannot provide for themselves, and to provide for ourselves. God comes before mammon.
This passage is very difficult, isn’t it? When one ponders and puts to prayer what we should do in light of these charges, it’s easy to come up feeling very insecure, very unsure. And yet, the good news is right before us. Our father in heaven will reward us if we turn to him. Our burdens are at sometimes extremely heavy, and we have moments where we can’t keep going, but who is behind us, beside us, above us, beneath us, all around us, to take those burdens from us?
Christ.
Mom, don’t worry. My friends, don’t worry!
Easy to say, but it’s true.
Christ, working in us makes all things possible, and even when we’ve hit rock bottom, he is there and consoles us when we come up short, encouraging us to dust ourselves off and get back on the road. Christ is our thanksgiving.
This afternoon, or evening, when we join our families and friends at our Thanksgiving tables, when you and I gather in Hodgkin Hall, we will literally break bread, and we will feast on love and give thanks. And not just on this holiday, but every day, when we gather together. The fellowship of this table brings Christ into those circles of friends and loved ones and the redemptive love He brings feeds us, loves us and supports us and we are thankful for it.
As has been my custom, on this day of feasting, I’ll offer a prayer called “Brigid’s Feast”:
I should like a great lake of finest ale for the King of Kings;
I should like a table of the choicest food for the family of heaven.
Let the ale be made from the fruits of faith,
And the food be forgiving love.
I should welcome the poor to my feast, for they are God’s Children.
I should welcome the sick to my feast, for they are God’s joy.
Let the poor sit with Jesus at the highest place,
And the sick dance with the angels.
God bless the poor, God bless the sick,
And bless our human race.
God bless our food, God bless our drink,
All homes, O God, embrace.
Amen.
If my mother had heard me proclaim these words of Christ, she wouldn’t have said anything, but her actions would have spoken volumes. She would have been quiet on the ride home and once back in the kitchen, she’d still not say a word – but bang the spoon on the pot, shut the oven door a bit too forcefully, and just stare me down – I’d get what my high school sweetheart called, “la musa dura;” the hard look, and eventually she’d say in her deep, low voice, “Yeah right, already. What do you mean, ‘Don’t worry?’”
This is a woman who worried all of her thirty-nine years for good reason. She worried about where the money was going to come from for clothes and food for six children, worried about paying the rent on time, worried about the utilities being paid up in full, worried where the next job was going to come from when she lost a job, worried about what would happen to us when she was gone.
Forty years after her death, and in this, the year, and on this, the day on which she would have turned eighty, I’m proud to stand before you, my sisters and my brothers, and tell you that Jeannette Ekstrom’s kids managed just fine using what she taught all of us, and we turned out okay.
But the worrying hasn’t gone away. We worry about the same things. Raise your hand if you haven’t lain awake nights worrying about the necessities of life.
It’s very hard in these tough economic times to hear these beautiful words of Jesus, “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’” Is he saying to us that we should just pull the covers over our heads at dawn’s first light and snuggle down for a few more hours of sleep, not bother to get up and go to work if we have jobs, not look for work if we don’t, and not worry about the past due notices piling up?
Here’s what I think – no.
Jesus asks us in this incredibly beautiful passage from the Sermon on the Mount that we should turn to God and to strive to enter the Kingdom first before we turn to the difficult task of daily life. Note the word, strive – work towards it, make it a goal. Make it a priority. What I am suggesting is make it the very first item on your to-do list, even before you turn on the coffee maker, or take up your place in the queue at the coffee shop. He knows that the task is daunting and road is rough. But once we surrender our hearts to God’s unconditional love, set our minds on what we are called to do in Christ’s name, then we have the means to provide for and help those who cannot provide for themselves, and to provide for ourselves. God comes before mammon.
This passage is very difficult, isn’t it? When one ponders and puts to prayer what we should do in light of these charges, it’s easy to come up feeling very insecure, very unsure. And yet, the good news is right before us. Our father in heaven will reward us if we turn to him. Our burdens are at sometimes extremely heavy, and we have moments where we can’t keep going, but who is behind us, beside us, above us, beneath us, all around us, to take those burdens from us?
Christ.
Mom, don’t worry. My friends, don’t worry!
Easy to say, but it’s true.
Christ, working in us makes all things possible, and even when we’ve hit rock bottom, he is there and consoles us when we come up short, encouraging us to dust ourselves off and get back on the road. Christ is our thanksgiving.
This afternoon, or evening, when we join our families and friends at our Thanksgiving tables, when you and I gather in Hodgkin Hall, we will literally break bread, and we will feast on love and give thanks. And not just on this holiday, but every day, when we gather together. The fellowship of this table brings Christ into those circles of friends and loved ones and the redemptive love He brings feeds us, loves us and supports us and we are thankful for it.
As has been my custom, on this day of feasting, I’ll offer a prayer called “Brigid’s Feast”:
I should like a great lake of finest ale for the King of Kings;
I should like a table of the choicest food for the family of heaven.
Let the ale be made from the fruits of faith,
And the food be forgiving love.
I should welcome the poor to my feast, for they are God’s Children.
I should welcome the sick to my feast, for they are God’s joy.
Let the poor sit with Jesus at the highest place,
And the sick dance with the angels.
God bless the poor, God bless the sick,
And bless our human race.
God bless our food, God bless our drink,
All homes, O God, embrace.
Amen.
11 October, 2009
Wonder, Love and Praise
Once again, we are shown how the Lord chooses the most unlikely of candidates to demonstrate the power of God’s love working in life and praise to the Lord. We have the examples of Ruth and a Samaritan Leper.
Both are on the edge of societal norms. Ruth is a widow and a foreigners in a foreign land. The Leper is considered unclean, under judgment by God and a Samaritan. Despite these societal restrictions, they show us faithful living. They are models of faith and love. Ruth’s words to Naomi proclaim her love and loyalty, not only to her mother-in-law, but to God: “Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.”
In the Gospel lesson, that love and faith is demonstrated through the actions of an outcast. He is one of ten lepers who call out to Jesus as he travels between Samaria and Galilee. As we’ve heard, Jesus sees them.
Jesus sees them.
Lepers were those with skin diseases, usually, and they were thought to be contagious, they were shunned and for all intents and purposes, invisible.
But Jesus sees them.
Imagine that those with him are averting their eyes, walking a little faster to get away, pretending not to notice, or fearful of contagion. Jesus’ recognition of the lepers shows us his compassion for the suffering and marginalized people in the world. Here is God’s love in action.
Then, something unexpected happens. One of them saw that he was healed and, rather than go and show himself to the priests as Jesus directed, he turns around and praises God – again, imagine the scene. The praises to God are probably shouts and cries of joy and amazement. He goes back to Jesus and throws himself at his feet, giving thanks. As Ruth’s words proclaim love of God, so too, are the Leper’s. Ruth and the Leper are doing what the Lord requires of all God’s children – worshipping and loving God.
We know that Ruth’s life improved and she went on to marry Boaz and bore Obed, who was the father of Jesse, the father of David, and we trace that family line to Jesus. We don’t know what the Tenth Leper might have done. Perhaps he was reunited with his family, or started one, and continued to praise God and give thanks for all the blessings of his life, as I am sure Ruth and Naomi did. Perhaps he grew to old age and could tell his grandchildren about the teacher named Jesus who cured him, who was crucified as a criminal and yet rose on the third day.
What we can take from these two wonderful stories of love, faith and renewal is that God gives each one of us new lives and opportunities for praise. Each morning when we wake and thank God for yet another day to do His will, each time we receive the bread and wine, we receive a new life. How we praise God depends on our circumstances, and where we are in our lives. We may do as Jesus requires and keep his commandments – to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls and minds and that we love another as Christ loves us.
That is praise indeed.
Go in peace, dear ones,
Ellen+
Both are on the edge of societal norms. Ruth is a widow and a foreigners in a foreign land. The Leper is considered unclean, under judgment by God and a Samaritan. Despite these societal restrictions, they show us faithful living. They are models of faith and love. Ruth’s words to Naomi proclaim her love and loyalty, not only to her mother-in-law, but to God: “Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.”
In the Gospel lesson, that love and faith is demonstrated through the actions of an outcast. He is one of ten lepers who call out to Jesus as he travels between Samaria and Galilee. As we’ve heard, Jesus sees them.
Jesus sees them.
Lepers were those with skin diseases, usually, and they were thought to be contagious, they were shunned and for all intents and purposes, invisible.
But Jesus sees them.
Imagine that those with him are averting their eyes, walking a little faster to get away, pretending not to notice, or fearful of contagion. Jesus’ recognition of the lepers shows us his compassion for the suffering and marginalized people in the world. Here is God’s love in action.
Then, something unexpected happens. One of them saw that he was healed and, rather than go and show himself to the priests as Jesus directed, he turns around and praises God – again, imagine the scene. The praises to God are probably shouts and cries of joy and amazement. He goes back to Jesus and throws himself at his feet, giving thanks. As Ruth’s words proclaim love of God, so too, are the Leper’s. Ruth and the Leper are doing what the Lord requires of all God’s children – worshipping and loving God.
We know that Ruth’s life improved and she went on to marry Boaz and bore Obed, who was the father of Jesse, the father of David, and we trace that family line to Jesus. We don’t know what the Tenth Leper might have done. Perhaps he was reunited with his family, or started one, and continued to praise God and give thanks for all the blessings of his life, as I am sure Ruth and Naomi did. Perhaps he grew to old age and could tell his grandchildren about the teacher named Jesus who cured him, who was crucified as a criminal and yet rose on the third day.
What we can take from these two wonderful stories of love, faith and renewal is that God gives each one of us new lives and opportunities for praise. Each morning when we wake and thank God for yet another day to do His will, each time we receive the bread and wine, we receive a new life. How we praise God depends on our circumstances, and where we are in our lives. We may do as Jesus requires and keep his commandments – to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls and minds and that we love another as Christ loves us.
That is praise indeed.
Go in peace, dear ones,
Ellen+
21 September, 2009
Who's First?
Wisdom is again our theme. The Hebrew scripture outlines the qualities of a wise woman. The psalm shows us the wisdom of choosing righteousness over wickedness and the letter of James, our epistolary reading, posits the argument for who is truly wise, and shows us that true wisdom is pure, peaceable, without partiality or hypocrisy – and then we have the Gospel, which illustrates what happens if we ignore wisdom and put our status in the world before the Word and what Christ calls us to do.
What is it about us that makes us want to be first?
Didn’t you want to be at the head of the line in Kindergarten? Called first for the softball team? Be the person the manager thinks of first to head up a new project? When I was a little girl, I wished my name was Abigail, or Anne, or Alice, so I could be at the head of the line, or the first person in the roll call. And I was always picked last for the softball game – the team captains would fight over who would have to take me. I’m sure you all have stories like that to share.
Being first, after all, is being noticed, gaining acceptance to whatever social circles we wish to belong, being important, the person everyone goes to, or thinks of. Being first is being successful.
No one likes to be last. The last are sometimes thought of as losers or the weakest. We all want to be number one, right?
The disciples were debating that very issue when Jesus asked what it was they argued about. They were shamed to silence, for despite the pressure to be alpha-whatever, they and we have been taught that that is immodest, pushy, or selfish to focus on getting ahead. Their silence is followed by a powerful statement:
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all, and servant of all.”
Who would be the last of all in the first century? That would be children. A child, being powerless and defenseless, relies on others for care. Children have no power or standing until they are old enough to work in the fields or shop. Acceptance of a child, then, is accepting Christ, and ultimately God, who sent him.
Today, by and large, we treat our children with respect, and care for them as Jesus would have us do. But there are other children of God. The poor, and by that I mean the people in our society who have incomes below the so-called poverty line, or no income at all, whether they are working or not, whether they have a place to live, or not. They are powerless and defenseless, and they must rely on others for care. They have no power or standing. Acceptance of someone who is without a voice, without standing, without power is once again accepting Jesus and the One who sent him.
Now, is Jesus telling us that to be first, to be a leader and to have authority is wrong? I don’t believe he is – but I do believe he is telling us to get our priorities straight. Putting the interests of others before our own. That is how one becomes a true leader. He is speaking to the body of Christ then and now – do you want to be great? Alrighty then! This is what you must do!
Every day we have opportunities to get at the back of the line, as it were, to be wise and act on Jesus’ advice to be last of all and servant of all. What might they be? Volunteer time to read to at-risk children, serve up a tasty meal for the hungry, the list is endless and if you put it to prayer and look around, you might find something suited to your gifts and time. It could be as simple as signing a petition to increase funding for after-school programs, or signing a letter to a legislator to encourage support of economic reforms that will find the money to feed the hungry, improve local economies, both here and abroad.
I’ll ask you what the disciples asked one another: who is truly the greatest? Obviously, the Lord - and Jesus, of course. But among us, who is truly the greatest? In the Kingdom of Heaven, our human idea of worth, of merit, is given a three-hundred and sixty degree spin. The greatest is the one who follows the example of Jesus and puts aside worldly concerns to become the servant of all – as vulnerable and as a little child or the poorest of the poor, and open to the transformative love and acceptance that is Jesus, our Lord.
What is it about us that makes us want to be first?
Didn’t you want to be at the head of the line in Kindergarten? Called first for the softball team? Be the person the manager thinks of first to head up a new project? When I was a little girl, I wished my name was Abigail, or Anne, or Alice, so I could be at the head of the line, or the first person in the roll call. And I was always picked last for the softball game – the team captains would fight over who would have to take me. I’m sure you all have stories like that to share.
Being first, after all, is being noticed, gaining acceptance to whatever social circles we wish to belong, being important, the person everyone goes to, or thinks of. Being first is being successful.
No one likes to be last. The last are sometimes thought of as losers or the weakest. We all want to be number one, right?
The disciples were debating that very issue when Jesus asked what it was they argued about. They were shamed to silence, for despite the pressure to be alpha-whatever, they and we have been taught that that is immodest, pushy, or selfish to focus on getting ahead. Their silence is followed by a powerful statement:
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all, and servant of all.”
Who would be the last of all in the first century? That would be children. A child, being powerless and defenseless, relies on others for care. Children have no power or standing until they are old enough to work in the fields or shop. Acceptance of a child, then, is accepting Christ, and ultimately God, who sent him.
Today, by and large, we treat our children with respect, and care for them as Jesus would have us do. But there are other children of God. The poor, and by that I mean the people in our society who have incomes below the so-called poverty line, or no income at all, whether they are working or not, whether they have a place to live, or not. They are powerless and defenseless, and they must rely on others for care. They have no power or standing. Acceptance of someone who is without a voice, without standing, without power is once again accepting Jesus and the One who sent him.
Now, is Jesus telling us that to be first, to be a leader and to have authority is wrong? I don’t believe he is – but I do believe he is telling us to get our priorities straight. Putting the interests of others before our own. That is how one becomes a true leader. He is speaking to the body of Christ then and now – do you want to be great? Alrighty then! This is what you must do!
Every day we have opportunities to get at the back of the line, as it were, to be wise and act on Jesus’ advice to be last of all and servant of all. What might they be? Volunteer time to read to at-risk children, serve up a tasty meal for the hungry, the list is endless and if you put it to prayer and look around, you might find something suited to your gifts and time. It could be as simple as signing a petition to increase funding for after-school programs, or signing a letter to a legislator to encourage support of economic reforms that will find the money to feed the hungry, improve local economies, both here and abroad.
I’ll ask you what the disciples asked one another: who is truly the greatest? Obviously, the Lord - and Jesus, of course. But among us, who is truly the greatest? In the Kingdom of Heaven, our human idea of worth, of merit, is given a three-hundred and sixty degree spin. The greatest is the one who follows the example of Jesus and puts aside worldly concerns to become the servant of all – as vulnerable and as a little child or the poorest of the poor, and open to the transformative love and acceptance that is Jesus, our Lord.
06 September, 2009
Coming in from the Desert
Sabbatical ended and I returned to St. Mark's. I didn't wander far during the 4.5 months I was gone - that was impossible, having been laid off work right as sabbatical started. I spent time resting and praying - and looking for work.
So what did revelations came to me?
To be receptive, open. Just as the theme in this morning's gospel was "Be open." Jesus heals the sick daughter of a gentile woman, a Syrophoenician, and heals a deaf mute. "Be open," he says to the man.
To us, he says, be open - with the heart and mind. Take chances, just as the woman did. She was a stranger in the community but her faith made her go to Jesus. She knew that he could heal her daughter if he wanted to, because she believed that to be so.
Openess begins with ignoring petty differences and jealousies, childish behavior. I write that because I witnessed and experienced this today. And I let go of it, and let it go - said a prayer instead.
Openess is being willing to love unconditionally and believing wholeheartedly.
How will you be open this week?
So what did revelations came to me?
To be receptive, open. Just as the theme in this morning's gospel was "Be open." Jesus heals the sick daughter of a gentile woman, a Syrophoenician, and heals a deaf mute. "Be open," he says to the man.
To us, he says, be open - with the heart and mind. Take chances, just as the woman did. She was a stranger in the community but her faith made her go to Jesus. She knew that he could heal her daughter if he wanted to, because she believed that to be so.
Openess begins with ignoring petty differences and jealousies, childish behavior. I write that because I witnessed and experienced this today. And I let go of it, and let it go - said a prayer instead.
Openess is being willing to love unconditionally and believing wholeheartedly.
How will you be open this week?
27 April, 2009
Mobilizing
Today was the second hottest day of the year in the capitol, and it was definitely hot at the convention center when the Sojourners met with White House personnel and listened to what the Obama Administration wants to do to eradicate poverty in America, heard from President Obama and Jeffrey Sachs via video appearances and then gathered in state groups for our trip to Capitol Hill tomorrow, planning our strategies for discussing three important issues with legislators: health care reform, domestic poverty and fully fund the president's foreign affairs budget request.
We learned that a budget isn't just an Excel spreadsheet of numbers and bottom lines, but a moral contract that outline our nation's values and priorities.
How is it that the most powerful nation in the world, and the wealthiest cannot take care of its poor and defenseless? Can bail out banks and insurance companies, but cannot offer its citizens medical insurance so that people needn't go bankrupt trying to pay the cost of medical bills if they lose their insurance?
Rep. Lewis told us yesterday that Christians have an obligation to get in the way of injustice. Today one speaker said it in plain English - he said he was sick of "dumb, stupid, poverty" and wanted to do something.
Tomorrow I'm sure he'll be on the Hill with us.
I don't have a large bank account that I can use to contribute to food banks and shelters, but I have a gift that we all have - the gift of having a voice that I can use to speak with those in positions to make laws and change laws, to ask them to consider the needs of the poor and struggling middle class when allocating money and programs.
The President addressed the conference via video feed, encouraging us to speak out and fight for those without voices. Mr. Obama was proud that our government takes the problems of the poor seriously and want seriously to turn things around, e.g. the Half-in-Ten resolution put forth by Rep. Barbara Lee (D-Cal.Dist.9): that the United States should set a national goal of cutting poverty in half over the next 10 years.
Impossible? Idealistic?
Perhaps.
But remember what thirteen colonies of Great Britain did over two hundred years ago?
Remember what a rabbi from Nazareth started up with 12 of his friends?
Go in peace, dear ones.
Ellen+
We learned that a budget isn't just an Excel spreadsheet of numbers and bottom lines, but a moral contract that outline our nation's values and priorities.
How is it that the most powerful nation in the world, and the wealthiest cannot take care of its poor and defenseless? Can bail out banks and insurance companies, but cannot offer its citizens medical insurance so that people needn't go bankrupt trying to pay the cost of medical bills if they lose their insurance?
Rep. Lewis told us yesterday that Christians have an obligation to get in the way of injustice. Today one speaker said it in plain English - he said he was sick of "dumb, stupid, poverty" and wanted to do something.
Tomorrow I'm sure he'll be on the Hill with us.
I don't have a large bank account that I can use to contribute to food banks and shelters, but I have a gift that we all have - the gift of having a voice that I can use to speak with those in positions to make laws and change laws, to ask them to consider the needs of the poor and struggling middle class when allocating money and programs.
The President addressed the conference via video feed, encouraging us to speak out and fight for those without voices. Mr. Obama was proud that our government takes the problems of the poor seriously and want seriously to turn things around, e.g. the Half-in-Ten resolution put forth by Rep. Barbara Lee (D-Cal.Dist.9): that the United States should set a national goal of cutting poverty in half over the next 10 years.
Impossible? Idealistic?
Perhaps.
But remember what thirteen colonies of Great Britain did over two hundred years ago?
Remember what a rabbi from Nazareth started up with 12 of his friends?
Go in peace, dear ones.
Ellen+
26 April, 2009
Excuse me, but get in my way . . .
So it's at least 75-80 degrees still in Washington DC and it's 6:30 p.m. There really isn't an inch of seating left in Shiloh Baptist Church at 9th and P Streets - the place to be. Tonight is the opening of the Mobilization to End Poverty Conference and I've never been in a room so charged with energy and the holy spirit. I thought the place was going to explode when Rev. Ferguson stood up and witnessed his life of struggle and redemption. If there is any proof that a loving God exists and works through us, it is in Rev. Ferguson, who as a young man was incarcerated but turned his life around thanks to the Holy Spirit. And then Rep. John Lewis preached eloquently and passionately. We've got to find a way to get in the way. It's time for us to do something about ending poverty.
Another comment heard tonight from another speaker was that God is not outside Hell pulling people in, but standing outside pulling people out. Rep. Lewis asked why the government could bail out Wall Street but not Main Street.
So many people in that warm, crowded church, but so much powerful faith, too. This is the faith that truly can move mountains and bring positive, equitable change.
It used to be that we were safer staying out of the way of challenges, adversity, discord - now it's in our best interest to get in the way of those who will not live out the Gospel and help their fellow brothers and sisters build new and better lives for themselves and their families, for all us for that matter.
Go in peace.
Another comment heard tonight from another speaker was that God is not outside Hell pulling people in, but standing outside pulling people out. Rep. Lewis asked why the government could bail out Wall Street but not Main Street.
So many people in that warm, crowded church, but so much powerful faith, too. This is the faith that truly can move mountains and bring positive, equitable change.
It used to be that we were safer staying out of the way of challenges, adversity, discord - now it's in our best interest to get in the way of those who will not live out the Gospel and help their fellow brothers and sisters build new and better lives for themselves and their families, for all us for that matter.
Go in peace.
24 April, 2009
The Deacon Has Landed
Okay, yes I WAS scared to death and almost in tears getting on that plane this morning, but here I am in Washington DC at my friend Rebecca's lovely brownstone, in an attic bedroom with a friendly tabby named Gabriel - Julian, you have competition for my heart!
The flight gave me an opportunity for evangelism. When people chatted about their destinations and I mentioned the conference, heads nodded and a few said, "Wow!" Comments like "If they (the government) can bail out the banks, auto companies, what about helping people feed their kids, pay the rent?" went around.
It's a larger than life issue and the answers won't come easy, but that's why we're meeting - to find scripture-based answers to the problem.
I'm still on California time, though it's 11:49 p.m. here, and that would be way past my bed time. But I can't sleep for the excitement of being in Washington DC for the first time - I saw the Capitol lit up as we drove into the city and I got chills. If anything good can come out of Washington DC it will be people getting together and working for a solution that will benefit everyone. Isn't that a great way of living out the Gospel?
Back to the flight - I sat by a window - the best way to get over fear is to confront it - and stared down at the landscape when it wasn't covered by clouds and fog. It was one incredible way to admire God's creation. I can't tell you how excited I was to see the great Mississippi River snaking through states. The man sitting next to me teased and said I needed to get out more often. That's as may be, but it really showed me what a small place I take up in Creation, and even though I am not as grand as a mighty river, or as majestic as the mountains and canyons I saw from the plane, I have a place and I have work to do. We all do.
Go in peace,
Ellen+
The flight gave me an opportunity for evangelism. When people chatted about their destinations and I mentioned the conference, heads nodded and a few said, "Wow!" Comments like "If they (the government) can bail out the banks, auto companies, what about helping people feed their kids, pay the rent?" went around.
It's a larger than life issue and the answers won't come easy, but that's why we're meeting - to find scripture-based answers to the problem.
I'm still on California time, though it's 11:49 p.m. here, and that would be way past my bed time. But I can't sleep for the excitement of being in Washington DC for the first time - I saw the Capitol lit up as we drove into the city and I got chills. If anything good can come out of Washington DC it will be people getting together and working for a solution that will benefit everyone. Isn't that a great way of living out the Gospel?
Back to the flight - I sat by a window - the best way to get over fear is to confront it - and stared down at the landscape when it wasn't covered by clouds and fog. It was one incredible way to admire God's creation. I can't tell you how excited I was to see the great Mississippi River snaking through states. The man sitting next to me teased and said I needed to get out more often. That's as may be, but it really showed me what a small place I take up in Creation, and even though I am not as grand as a mighty river, or as majestic as the mountains and canyons I saw from the plane, I have a place and I have work to do. We all do.
Go in peace,
Ellen+
Ending Poverty - One Step at a Time
In three hours I'll be leaving Oakland Airport for Washington, DC. I haven't flown in 18 years and I've never been a fan of the mode of transportation, but I felt this conference, The Mobilization to End Poverty, was important enough to suck up the fear and loathing and just go - just go and join my diocesan colleagues and sisters, Shari, Linda and Salying, and thousands of other people of like mind to get together and figure out how we can end this epidemic of poverty in this, the most wealthy nation, and throughout the world. Day One is Sunday evening. Before the conference, I'll sightseeing and serving at St. Paul's Rock Creek - including a visit to their historic cemetery - on Sunday morning.
So pray with and for me on this trip, and when I get back, we can work together to turn things around. We already said, "Yes we can," now we have to show that words have action behind them.
Go in peace, dear ones!
Ellen+
So pray with and for me on this trip, and when I get back, we can work together to turn things around. We already said, "Yes we can," now we have to show that words have action behind them.
Go in peace, dear ones!
Ellen+
19 April, 2009
Believe!
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
If you responded with the words, "The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia!" I bet you wouldn’t have said that if you didn’t believe. Brothers and sisters, you do believe Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, right?
Okay, so where do we go from here?
A week has passed, but the excitement, the joy remains. You want to flip that page in the Gospel of John and find out what those other signs were that Jesus did. You want the story to continue, and it does, in the Book of Acts, the epistles and in the lives of everyone who has heard the Good News and proclaimed it. The greatest story ever told has an epilogue, and we are it.
How is this possible, when you and I weren’t there when the stone was rolled back and Jesus walked out of the tomb?
It’s possible because Jesus said so.
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Certainly good news for us, a slap on the wrist, perhaps for Thomas.
Thomas is one of those less-than-perfect disciples that one can find kinship with, for how many can truly say they’ve never questioned anything we’ve been told or seen, especially when the hour and the day are dark and feel without promise?
Those moments come, and then God puts into play or reveals something that turns one from being faithless to faithful, like the Resurrection. It happened to a group of scared, determined and faithful followers who kept the momentum going, from that morning to this.
I don’t buy into the dictum that you’ve got to see it, to believe it. We can't see the air, but it is all around us. We see its action - in the movement of Creation when the wind blows, we feel it on our skin. It is there.
God is there. God came to us in the form and blessing of Jesus. So many prophets came before Jesus claiming to be the Christ, the redeemer and savior. They slipped away into obscurity, some suffered ignominious deaths. What made Jesus so different?
He was who he said he was. He did what he said he was going to do. The resurrection of Christ gave new life to the followers of the Jesus movement. What was promised by Jesus in his teaching, was and is being lived out. The apostles, the first followers of Jesus, proclaimed the good news of the Kingdom - what Jesus promised in his teachings and ministry was made true. The followers of Jesus live out the new commandment - that followers love one another as Jesus loved them, and in attending to the needs of one another, what Jesus commanded was made tangible and real.
The apostles became the leaders of the movement and strived to live as they were taught, showing that “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a great family of different people, living together, loving one another and all living in equality.” What Jesus demonstrated in his ministry was kept alive by the faith, belief and right action of the Apostles.
And this is where we come in.
We are now the disciples, called to keep the Good News in play, to keep the Word in our hearts and minds, and to keep it alive. How you and I do this depends on the gifts God has given each one of us, and how the Spirit moves within us.
I’m pretty certain we’re always looking for new ways to proclaim the Gospel - some have been quite successful haven’t they? And some, abysmal failures. What keeps us going is belief. If Jesus can die for our sins, we can return the favor by keeping at it, trying harder. I believe he is with us every step of the way - sometimes we have to open our hearts and minds a bit wider to see him, get past our own wounds so that we can see his. No, we haven’t seen the five wounds of Christ except in artwork and in scripture, but we know they are real. I believe that every time we say ‘peace be with you,’ Christ says it to us.
It’s time for us to write the next chapter of the greatest story ever told. I intend to put my mark on the page this week when I begin my sabbatical and travel to Washington for the interfaith conference hosted by Sojourners - the Mobilization to End Poverty. I’ll gather with three of my diocesan colleagues in ministry and others of like mind to find ways of ending the epidemic of poverty in America. When I return from Washington, I’ll spend some time with the information and tools I receive so that when I return from my sabbatical in September, I can offer new resources and ways that my congregation lives out the new commandment and follows Christ’s dictum that when we feed and clothe and attend to the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, we do the same for Him.
What will you write on the page?
14 March, 2009
The Stuff of Life
What will it profit us to gain the whole world and forfeit our lives? What can we give in return for life? These are questions appropriate for this contemplative and penitential season of Lent, but truly, questions important to consider every single day of the year.
In speaking to his disciples, Jesus warns against putting earthly concerns and goods over the promise of eternal life. To these followers of Jesus, earthly concerns and goods meant home and family, financial security, perhaps standing in the community, and a peaceful life. And to us, his message is no different, even with the passage of a millennium. The everyday concerns have changed, but the goals we put before us are pretty much the same.
Might the ‘whole world’ be the ‘stuff’ in our lives? We all have it. Sometimes, it replaces or masks what’s important or crucial, or we’ve bought in to the idea that it’s what we need to be successful or happy because for so many generations the “American Dream” was to be acquisitive, have the best and the biggest and in all four different colors; sometimes, we let it get out of control.
When it gets out of control, the downward spiral begins, doesn’t it? And what better time than this to rid ourselves of that which we do not need, whether it be material, physical goods, or clutter in the mind and soul. It’s time given over to reflection and prayer, when we decide, with Christ’s help, what is truly important in our lives. Once we take that first, very painful step, the rest falls into place. Get rid of the clutter in life and you just may have a sense of order and enough room for prayer and a life that can be enriched by a deeper commitment and relationship with God and one another. And who knows? Perhaps you will discover all that all the stuff, that clutter, is a barrier. It’s a wall built up to hide behind, to keep us from being what God through Christ has called us to be.
We know that being Christian isn’t always warm and cuddly. Jesus tells us exactly what he expects of us. He says that if anyone wants to follow him, they will have to expect hardship, difficult choices, and, in the disciples’ time, perhaps death. To be a disciple is to act and live selflessly, to be willing to give up as well as give. Jesus calls us to an abundant life through love and belief, not of an abundance of earthly goods that pile up and clutter, get in the way of action that proclaims the Gospel.
What can we give in return for life? Our hearts, our minds, ourselves, freely - as freely and unconditionally as we are loved by God. Give them over into the loving care of Christ Jesus. But first, we need to get rid of the clutter so that we are receptive to the Word. Then we will be ready to shoulder the cross, and go and undertake work that make our community and world a better place that models the Kingdom of Heaven and not shame us before Jesus; work that shows that we are not ashamed of him.
I’ll leave it to you to discern what it is that Christ calls you to do. I dare you to look about and see, really see, what part of the ‘whole world’ is cluttering up your life.
I can guarantee it isn’t Jesus.
In speaking to his disciples, Jesus warns against putting earthly concerns and goods over the promise of eternal life. To these followers of Jesus, earthly concerns and goods meant home and family, financial security, perhaps standing in the community, and a peaceful life. And to us, his message is no different, even with the passage of a millennium. The everyday concerns have changed, but the goals we put before us are pretty much the same.
Might the ‘whole world’ be the ‘stuff’ in our lives? We all have it. Sometimes, it replaces or masks what’s important or crucial, or we’ve bought in to the idea that it’s what we need to be successful or happy because for so many generations the “American Dream” was to be acquisitive, have the best and the biggest and in all four different colors; sometimes, we let it get out of control.
When it gets out of control, the downward spiral begins, doesn’t it? And what better time than this to rid ourselves of that which we do not need, whether it be material, physical goods, or clutter in the mind and soul. It’s time given over to reflection and prayer, when we decide, with Christ’s help, what is truly important in our lives. Once we take that first, very painful step, the rest falls into place. Get rid of the clutter in life and you just may have a sense of order and enough room for prayer and a life that can be enriched by a deeper commitment and relationship with God and one another. And who knows? Perhaps you will discover all that all the stuff, that clutter, is a barrier. It’s a wall built up to hide behind, to keep us from being what God through Christ has called us to be.
We know that being Christian isn’t always warm and cuddly. Jesus tells us exactly what he expects of us. He says that if anyone wants to follow him, they will have to expect hardship, difficult choices, and, in the disciples’ time, perhaps death. To be a disciple is to act and live selflessly, to be willing to give up as well as give. Jesus calls us to an abundant life through love and belief, not of an abundance of earthly goods that pile up and clutter, get in the way of action that proclaims the Gospel.
What can we give in return for life? Our hearts, our minds, ourselves, freely - as freely and unconditionally as we are loved by God. Give them over into the loving care of Christ Jesus. But first, we need to get rid of the clutter so that we are receptive to the Word. Then we will be ready to shoulder the cross, and go and undertake work that make our community and world a better place that models the Kingdom of Heaven and not shame us before Jesus; work that shows that we are not ashamed of him.
I’ll leave it to you to discern what it is that Christ calls you to do. I dare you to look about and see, really see, what part of the ‘whole world’ is cluttering up your life.
I can guarantee it isn’t Jesus.
01 October, 2008
The Call to the Vineyard, Bucking Authority
Did you catch the themes of last Sunday's lessons? When the Gospel was proclaimed, did they click? Authority and belief jump right out at you, but I would like to save authority for another time and focus on belief, as belief is why we’re all here today, isn’t it? Still, that question of authority tempts because I believe we all buck it at one time or another, or wish we had more of it . . . just look what happened to the priests and elders when they approached Jesus about it.
I would have loved to be a butterfly on the walls of the Temple that day. It must have been a bit too much to swallow for these people in authority. In their structured, neat, and privileged world, one doesn’t buck the system, so they have questions for him, and they have a right to ask as those who uphold tradition and the law – but in this instance, the chief priests and elders aren’t really interested in a theological debate; they want Jesus to say that it’s God who gives him such power so they can bring him up on charges of blasphemy.
Jesus enters the Temple in Jerusalem and creates quite a scene. He disrupts the local economy by knocking over the money changers’ tables and driving out the merchants and their livestock. He heals people and children squeal and shout his praises and clamor at him.
“By what authority are you doing these things,” they ask; “and who gave you this authority?”
Jesus in true rabbinic tradition responds to their query with a question.
“Did the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?”
Looks like the ball rolled into the priests and elders’ court and they’ve got a problem. If they say John’s authority to baptize came from heaven, they’re at odds with Rome, with whom they cooperate, and if they say human, the crowds following Jesus and present during this exchange would probably riot, for John was revered as a prophet. So they take the middle ground, the safest route, and admit that they don’t know. They’re in a can’t-win situation. Jesus has the last word, of course, and ends this line of questioning by saying he’s not going to divulge the source of his authority. Then he pushes them a bit further, continues, telling a parable of two sons.
“What do you think?” Jesus asks. A man asks two sons to work in his vineyard. The first son says, no, but changes his mind and goes out to work. The second son says, yes, and doesn’t bother following through.
So which of these sons, Jesus asks, did his father’s bidding?
The priests and elders reveal their hypocrisy by saying it’s the first son. In so few words, they admit John’s authority came from God, for the first son can be compared to the tax collectors and prostitutes, the outcasts of a first century society that took honor and shame very seriously. They represented a less than holy way of life, but eventually they responded to and accepted John’s message to repent. These so-called sinners will be welcomed in the Kingdom of Heaven because they responded in belief to the messengers sent by God. On the other hand, the priests and elders were like the second son -- people who profess to be righteous, but rejected John and all that he taught, even after they witnessed changed lives they still refused to believe; they continued with business as usual, saying “yes” to God, but never following through.
The message we can take from this scripture goes something like this -- what matters most is what we actually do when God calls. Acknowledging what is correct, but not taking action, is a barrier to a true and heartfelt response to God.
It is through God that John and Jesus received their gifts of ministry, their exceptional powers and abilities to completely understand what it was that God required of them and accept what was asked.
All that we do and say in living out the Gospel and proclaiming it are gifts from God. We don’t have the particular gifts given to Jesus, but he gives us something wonderful – salvation and eternal life.
But is it really that simple, to say “Yes!” to whatever God asks and assume that’s good enough for now?
No, not really.
Do you find yourself at times eagerly promising God that you’ll go into the vineyard, and then getting distracted by just one more thing that has to be wrapped up before -- ? I plead guilty on this count, as I’m sure some of you will. Do you find yourself thinking that just because you’re Christian you’ve got it all locked up and you’ve got a reservation for one of the bigger rooms in the house in the Kingdom of Heaven? Again, I’m guilty as charged.
I’m like both of the sons. Are you?
The good news is the Good News. We might rush to give God the right answer and hope that that will suffice for the time being, but Jesus is with us to show us how to love perfectly and act accordingly. We are invited to allow Jesus’ love and guidance, and our action to transform us into what God wants us to be.
Every day is another chance to get it right with God, that when we’re asked to work in the vineyard, we should go and do just that.
Easy enough, right?
Not right.
If we are to do the will of God and give an authentic response, we need to embrace a life that reflects His love and the wonder of all creation.
The tax collectors and prostitutes responded and now it’s our turn.
The news throughout the world hasn’t been comforting or encouraging these past few weeks and now more than ever, we have an opportunity to proclaim the Gospel, using words, as Saint Francis once said, if necessary. If our words are true and bold, and actions follow that improve by one kindness someone’s life, and if our words are not lip service, or something convenient to satisfy the listener, then we honor Christ and model his holy work.
Come with me, friends. There’s work to do in the vineyard.
Are you ready?
I would have loved to be a butterfly on the walls of the Temple that day. It must have been a bit too much to swallow for these people in authority. In their structured, neat, and privileged world, one doesn’t buck the system, so they have questions for him, and they have a right to ask as those who uphold tradition and the law – but in this instance, the chief priests and elders aren’t really interested in a theological debate; they want Jesus to say that it’s God who gives him such power so they can bring him up on charges of blasphemy.
Jesus enters the Temple in Jerusalem and creates quite a scene. He disrupts the local economy by knocking over the money changers’ tables and driving out the merchants and their livestock. He heals people and children squeal and shout his praises and clamor at him.
“By what authority are you doing these things,” they ask; “and who gave you this authority?”
Jesus in true rabbinic tradition responds to their query with a question.
“Did the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?”
Looks like the ball rolled into the priests and elders’ court and they’ve got a problem. If they say John’s authority to baptize came from heaven, they’re at odds with Rome, with whom they cooperate, and if they say human, the crowds following Jesus and present during this exchange would probably riot, for John was revered as a prophet. So they take the middle ground, the safest route, and admit that they don’t know. They’re in a can’t-win situation. Jesus has the last word, of course, and ends this line of questioning by saying he’s not going to divulge the source of his authority. Then he pushes them a bit further, continues, telling a parable of two sons.
“What do you think?” Jesus asks. A man asks two sons to work in his vineyard. The first son says, no, but changes his mind and goes out to work. The second son says, yes, and doesn’t bother following through.
So which of these sons, Jesus asks, did his father’s bidding?
The priests and elders reveal their hypocrisy by saying it’s the first son. In so few words, they admit John’s authority came from God, for the first son can be compared to the tax collectors and prostitutes, the outcasts of a first century society that took honor and shame very seriously. They represented a less than holy way of life, but eventually they responded to and accepted John’s message to repent. These so-called sinners will be welcomed in the Kingdom of Heaven because they responded in belief to the messengers sent by God. On the other hand, the priests and elders were like the second son -- people who profess to be righteous, but rejected John and all that he taught, even after they witnessed changed lives they still refused to believe; they continued with business as usual, saying “yes” to God, but never following through.
The message we can take from this scripture goes something like this -- what matters most is what we actually do when God calls. Acknowledging what is correct, but not taking action, is a barrier to a true and heartfelt response to God.
It is through God that John and Jesus received their gifts of ministry, their exceptional powers and abilities to completely understand what it was that God required of them and accept what was asked.
All that we do and say in living out the Gospel and proclaiming it are gifts from God. We don’t have the particular gifts given to Jesus, but he gives us something wonderful – salvation and eternal life.
But is it really that simple, to say “Yes!” to whatever God asks and assume that’s good enough for now?
No, not really.
Do you find yourself at times eagerly promising God that you’ll go into the vineyard, and then getting distracted by just one more thing that has to be wrapped up before -- ? I plead guilty on this count, as I’m sure some of you will. Do you find yourself thinking that just because you’re Christian you’ve got it all locked up and you’ve got a reservation for one of the bigger rooms in the house in the Kingdom of Heaven? Again, I’m guilty as charged.
I’m like both of the sons. Are you?
The good news is the Good News. We might rush to give God the right answer and hope that that will suffice for the time being, but Jesus is with us to show us how to love perfectly and act accordingly. We are invited to allow Jesus’ love and guidance, and our action to transform us into what God wants us to be.
Every day is another chance to get it right with God, that when we’re asked to work in the vineyard, we should go and do just that.
Easy enough, right?
Not right.
If we are to do the will of God and give an authentic response, we need to embrace a life that reflects His love and the wonder of all creation.
The tax collectors and prostitutes responded and now it’s our turn.
The news throughout the world hasn’t been comforting or encouraging these past few weeks and now more than ever, we have an opportunity to proclaim the Gospel, using words, as Saint Francis once said, if necessary. If our words are true and bold, and actions follow that improve by one kindness someone’s life, and if our words are not lip service, or something convenient to satisfy the listener, then we honor Christ and model his holy work.
Come with me, friends. There’s work to do in the vineyard.
Are you ready?
26 August, 2008
Like a Rock
The Kingdom of Heaven is like the foundation of a great building – there are many stones, side by side, that hold it all together, and the building, in spite of many assaults, many earthquakes, many storms, remains standing because of the foundation. A foundation built on faith.
The first of those stones was Jesus and the next was Peter.
Of all the disciples, Peter is, perhaps the one that each of us can find something in which to identify. He’s less than perfect, he struggles to understand Jesus, has great ‘aha!’ moments where he finally gets it; he has moments of weakness and stupidity, he’s not afraid to speak up – remember when he sniped at Jesus, “Look, we’ve given up everything to follow you!” - and yet, when the final accounting is made, he is strong and sure, his love is evident. He’s a corner stone.
As Christians, we can add ourselves to this foundation – and why not? Don’t we possess similar qualities and strengths, weaknesses, as Peter? Who among us, if Jesus showed up at six o’clock some Tuesday night and asked, ‘But who do you say I am?’ would not echo Peter’s response, his confession of faith?
What makes us Christians? Our belief that Jesus is the Messiah. Our faith.
This morning’s Gospel is called “Peter’s Confession of Faith,” and it follows the miracles of the loaves and fishes, and Jesus’ walk on the Sea of Galilee. The author of Matthew tells us that after the walk, the disciples worshipped Jesus and proclaimed him Son of God. Simon Peter takes it up a notch. He says that Jesus is indeed the Messiah. This is the first time that a disciple has used this title. This confession leads to a blessing, a charge, and a new identity.
It begins when Peter becomes the first person to make what the first Christian Confession of Faith. Something new is happening, something new is being built—a foundation of love that will become the body of Christ, the church, by the will of God, and by the power of God, led first by Christ, and then his apostles, and now us.
Jesus gives Peter something more than new responsibility. A new name. To give a name is to bestow an identity. A name tells people who and what you are, your ancestry. To change a person’s name, as God changed Abram’s name to Abraham, and Jacob’s name to Israel, and now Simon Peter, was to alter that person’s identity, relationships, and mission.
Simon bar Jonah becomes Cephas, or Petros – the rock. Upon this rock Jesus gives responsibility and mission – to lead the disciples after his death and resurrection. He has a new purpose, a new identity.
Scripture refers to God as a rock (Genesis 49:24; Deuteronomy 32; 1 Samuel 2:2; 22; Psalm 18, 28, 31, 42, 62, 71, 78, 89, 92, etc.) Isaiah also refers to Abraham and Sarah as a rock: "Look to the Rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. Look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah who bore you" (Isaiah 51:1-2). Given these associations, Jesus does great honor to Peter when he calls him the rock. I’ll throw this into the mix to get you thinking: is the “rock” actually the faith that Peter exhibits when he makes this confession, or Peter? Or both?
We become stones in the foundation all in time and it comes when we are baptized, and when we pronounce the Creed. If you look at the Baptismal Covenant on pages 304 and 305 of the Prayer Book, you will see that the charges made to those being baptized are exhortations to obey, serve and lead in Christ’s name and with God’s help. Similar, perhaps, to the charges Jesus gave Peter. When we answer, “I will” to the questions presented to us, and act upon them, building blocks are added to that set down by Jesus, Peter, the apostles, of all the faithful, and it makes the church stronger. As Paul states in his letter to the Romans, each of us has a gift that differs according to the grace bestowed on us – ministry, teaching, giving, loving, to name a few – and they are the stones, too, that build the body of Christ.
Like Peter, we are rock solid, and there are times when we are stumbling blocks; but the building remains intact. With the strength of our faith, our love of God in Christ, the walls are solid, stable; the church still stands and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.
Go in peace and keep building the church,
Ellen+
The first of those stones was Jesus and the next was Peter.
Of all the disciples, Peter is, perhaps the one that each of us can find something in which to identify. He’s less than perfect, he struggles to understand Jesus, has great ‘aha!’ moments where he finally gets it; he has moments of weakness and stupidity, he’s not afraid to speak up – remember when he sniped at Jesus, “Look, we’ve given up everything to follow you!” - and yet, when the final accounting is made, he is strong and sure, his love is evident. He’s a corner stone.
As Christians, we can add ourselves to this foundation – and why not? Don’t we possess similar qualities and strengths, weaknesses, as Peter? Who among us, if Jesus showed up at six o’clock some Tuesday night and asked, ‘But who do you say I am?’ would not echo Peter’s response, his confession of faith?
What makes us Christians? Our belief that Jesus is the Messiah. Our faith.
This morning’s Gospel is called “Peter’s Confession of Faith,” and it follows the miracles of the loaves and fishes, and Jesus’ walk on the Sea of Galilee. The author of Matthew tells us that after the walk, the disciples worshipped Jesus and proclaimed him Son of God. Simon Peter takes it up a notch. He says that Jesus is indeed the Messiah. This is the first time that a disciple has used this title. This confession leads to a blessing, a charge, and a new identity.
It begins when Peter becomes the first person to make what the first Christian Confession of Faith. Something new is happening, something new is being built—a foundation of love that will become the body of Christ, the church, by the will of God, and by the power of God, led first by Christ, and then his apostles, and now us.
Jesus gives Peter something more than new responsibility. A new name. To give a name is to bestow an identity. A name tells people who and what you are, your ancestry. To change a person’s name, as God changed Abram’s name to Abraham, and Jacob’s name to Israel, and now Simon Peter, was to alter that person’s identity, relationships, and mission.
Simon bar Jonah becomes Cephas, or Petros – the rock. Upon this rock Jesus gives responsibility and mission – to lead the disciples after his death and resurrection. He has a new purpose, a new identity.
Scripture refers to God as a rock (Genesis 49:24; Deuteronomy 32; 1 Samuel 2:2; 22; Psalm 18, 28, 31, 42, 62, 71, 78, 89, 92, etc.) Isaiah also refers to Abraham and Sarah as a rock: "Look to the Rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. Look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah who bore you" (Isaiah 51:1-2). Given these associations, Jesus does great honor to Peter when he calls him the rock. I’ll throw this into the mix to get you thinking: is the “rock” actually the faith that Peter exhibits when he makes this confession, or Peter? Or both?
We become stones in the foundation all in time and it comes when we are baptized, and when we pronounce the Creed. If you look at the Baptismal Covenant on pages 304 and 305 of the Prayer Book, you will see that the charges made to those being baptized are exhortations to obey, serve and lead in Christ’s name and with God’s help. Similar, perhaps, to the charges Jesus gave Peter. When we answer, “I will” to the questions presented to us, and act upon them, building blocks are added to that set down by Jesus, Peter, the apostles, of all the faithful, and it makes the church stronger. As Paul states in his letter to the Romans, each of us has a gift that differs according to the grace bestowed on us – ministry, teaching, giving, loving, to name a few – and they are the stones, too, that build the body of Christ.
Like Peter, we are rock solid, and there are times when we are stumbling blocks; but the building remains intact. With the strength of our faith, our love of God in Christ, the walls are solid, stable; the church still stands and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.
Go in peace and keep building the church,
Ellen+
04 August, 2008
So Much More than Loaves and Fishes
Do you remember the folk tale, Stone Soup? A stranger enters a village in the dead of winter with a pot slung over his back; he sets up a fire in the market square and drops a pebble into the pot, adds water, and . . . . nothing! An old woman watches him from her window, as do most of the villagers, I guess, and while he stirs the water, he wishes that he had a turnip to improve the flavor of the broth. The old woman she thinks she has a turnip past its expiration date somewhere in the vegetable bin, and there it is. She tosses it in the pot. He thanks her, adding that the perfect thing to compliment a stone and turnip would be a carrot, a few more vegetables. Miraculously, the old woman just happens to have a soft onion somewhere – the skin needed to be peeled back and the bad parts cut off, but it would do, wouldn’t it? And the carrots – well, her old pony won’t mind giving them up, there’d be more tomorrow. The onion is joined by a bit of meat, a potato, some chicken bones for flavor – the ones you save to make stock with. Neighbors come by when the good smell of broth simmering drifts through the village; they dig around in their kitchens and drop something they just happen to find in a cupboard or in a bag or barrel, until everyone gathers around to enjoy a wonderful, hearty, meal – all from a pebble and some water.
Somewhere in the story, did you hear Jesus whispering, “You give them something to eat?”
I used this folk tale because the characters and the plot reminded me of the Gospel this morning – it’s an example of how God works by faith and action. The Gospel acts out the parables in Chapter 13 – the loaves and fishes are like a mustard seed – a little goes a long way; they’re like leaven hidden in the loaf; the Disciples fail to recognize the food hiding almost secretly in the midst of the crowd.
The stranger gets people to act by invitation and necessity; Jesus acts out of compassion and asks the Disciples to do the same. The crowds need not go away, the Disciples have food; they will give the crowds their supper. When they opened up their lunch boxes and found five loaves of bread and two fish. They’d need more than that to feed over five thousand people. Maybe they scratched their heads and looked at each other – you know, that look when everyone but the person asking the question thinks he or she is right. One can only imagine what Peter was thinking – or saying. But let’s give a back story to this scripture. This event follows the death of John the Baptist at Herod’s birthday feast – a bit different than the feast described here in Chapter 14. Jesus has spent the day preaching – perhaps one of the longest sermons ever offered, and, he’s been healing all those people. When he learns of John the Baptist’s death, he goes off by himself – and the crowds follow; they just won’t go home. Matthew’s text doesn’t state that the crowd was hungry and wanted something to eat, but it does say that the disciples wanted the people to go away and find their supper elsewhere. Here we have one of those moments when being disciples of Christ, of being members of the Body, seems utterly impossible or hopeless, and we look to the pragmatic, the logical, what’s in front of our noses for answers.
So Jesus tells the disciples not only what they do not want to hear, but what they cannot fathom: “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Rather than argue the point further, the disciples give Jesus the loaves and fishes. Jesus looked to heaven and took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, who in turn gave the bread to the crowds. There was plenty to eat, everyone was fed, and there were leftovers.
This miraculous feeding is repeated in all of the gospels and that very fact is evidence of the importance of this story to the early Christians as it should be to Christians now: it is the foretaste of the Last Supper and gives us elements of the Eucharist in the orderly arrangement of people, the prayer of blessing, the act of breaking bread and the distribution of the bread to all assembled. It is a call to community. The Table has become more than just an outward and visible sign of Christ’s compassion. Fed at this Table, we the faithful work and serve in a world where sharing our resources, our ministries is one way to express our willingness to believe, to take chances against the norm and live and proclaim the Gospel.
What we should note here is not only the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, but the call to action and mission.
Jesus sent The Twelve out with authority to teach, preach, heal, and we see it at work as they distribute the bread and the fish. They are models for us as they follow the instructions Jesus gives – no matter how impossible it may seem. Perhaps the miracle is that when we trust in the love of God through Christ, completely give ourselves over to that love, we can make things that seem impossible very real in our lives and the lives of those we touch.
A stranger comes to town and invites the people to share a soup they make together – from very little comes an abundance of food and love. The disciples’ five loaves and two fish seem to be lacking in quantity, yet over five thousand people had their fill. No one was turned away. There is enough of God’s love to go around.
And now, my friends, come to this table, and you will have something to eat. It is only a little bit of bread and wine, but it is so much more.
Somewhere in the story, did you hear Jesus whispering, “You give them something to eat?”
I used this folk tale because the characters and the plot reminded me of the Gospel this morning – it’s an example of how God works by faith and action. The Gospel acts out the parables in Chapter 13 – the loaves and fishes are like a mustard seed – a little goes a long way; they’re like leaven hidden in the loaf; the Disciples fail to recognize the food hiding almost secretly in the midst of the crowd.
The stranger gets people to act by invitation and necessity; Jesus acts out of compassion and asks the Disciples to do the same. The crowds need not go away, the Disciples have food; they will give the crowds their supper. When they opened up their lunch boxes and found five loaves of bread and two fish. They’d need more than that to feed over five thousand people. Maybe they scratched their heads and looked at each other – you know, that look when everyone but the person asking the question thinks he or she is right. One can only imagine what Peter was thinking – or saying. But let’s give a back story to this scripture. This event follows the death of John the Baptist at Herod’s birthday feast – a bit different than the feast described here in Chapter 14. Jesus has spent the day preaching – perhaps one of the longest sermons ever offered, and, he’s been healing all those people. When he learns of John the Baptist’s death, he goes off by himself – and the crowds follow; they just won’t go home. Matthew’s text doesn’t state that the crowd was hungry and wanted something to eat, but it does say that the disciples wanted the people to go away and find their supper elsewhere. Here we have one of those moments when being disciples of Christ, of being members of the Body, seems utterly impossible or hopeless, and we look to the pragmatic, the logical, what’s in front of our noses for answers.
So Jesus tells the disciples not only what they do not want to hear, but what they cannot fathom: “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Rather than argue the point further, the disciples give Jesus the loaves and fishes. Jesus looked to heaven and took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, who in turn gave the bread to the crowds. There was plenty to eat, everyone was fed, and there were leftovers.
This miraculous feeding is repeated in all of the gospels and that very fact is evidence of the importance of this story to the early Christians as it should be to Christians now: it is the foretaste of the Last Supper and gives us elements of the Eucharist in the orderly arrangement of people, the prayer of blessing, the act of breaking bread and the distribution of the bread to all assembled. It is a call to community. The Table has become more than just an outward and visible sign of Christ’s compassion. Fed at this Table, we the faithful work and serve in a world where sharing our resources, our ministries is one way to express our willingness to believe, to take chances against the norm and live and proclaim the Gospel.
What we should note here is not only the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, but the call to action and mission.
Jesus sent The Twelve out with authority to teach, preach, heal, and we see it at work as they distribute the bread and the fish. They are models for us as they follow the instructions Jesus gives – no matter how impossible it may seem. Perhaps the miracle is that when we trust in the love of God through Christ, completely give ourselves over to that love, we can make things that seem impossible very real in our lives and the lives of those we touch.
A stranger comes to town and invites the people to share a soup they make together – from very little comes an abundance of food and love. The disciples’ five loaves and two fish seem to be lacking in quantity, yet over five thousand people had their fill. No one was turned away. There is enough of God’s love to go around.
And now, my friends, come to this table, and you will have something to eat. It is only a little bit of bread and wine, but it is so much more.
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