June 24, 2007
In Paul’s letter to the Church in Galatia, he wrote these words:
As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.
For you are all one in Christ. If only we could live that out.
It seems more and more in the conversations going on in the Christian Church, we find a list of "beliefs" that one must adhere to in order to be classified as a "REAL" Christian.
I often find these lists of beliefs troubling. Do we really think that we can know the full nature of God?
We cannot contain God as God really is in words or ideas. This doesn't mean we give up on trying to know God, however. And, within the limits of our humanity, aided by divine revelation, we can gain some knowledge of God. But it is always incomplete knowledge. Whenever we say, "This is God," we need to add, "But God is more than this."
Does this mean we embrace an "anything goes" perspective? I don't think so. If you want to know what Episcopalians believe, worship in an Episcopal Church. It's all there in the liturgy. When we offer our praise and thanksgivings to God, surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, we are attempting to express, in our own finite and limited way, using time-tested forms and customs, the way we have found to build a closer relationship with the living God.
However, our ushers do not administer entrance exams at the door. I do not test those who come to the altar before offering the sacrament. When the world wants to know who we are, and who God is, our response is "Come and see."
If we like it or not, the religious landscape of the world has shifted. Christianity is no longer The Main Event. We have become simply another booth at the fair. Such a shift requires that we rethink how we present our faith.
The area in which I live grows a lot of blueberries. Imagine going to a farmer's market, approaching a booth offering blueberries, and being told that before you can make a purchase, you must state without reservation that these are the best berries, and in fact the only REAL berries. Further, you must renounce all previous berry purchases, and believe in the stated formulary and history regarding the creation of these berries, which is included in the 25 page booklet that the vendor thrusts in your face. I don't know about you, but I know I would avoid such a booth in future trips. It's not the pedigree of berries that interests me. The question on my mind was "Do they taste good?" ...Taste and see...
I think of some of our children who come forward to receive communion. Do we insist that they hold the “right beliefs,” even when their intellectual development does not allow them to deal with such complex ideas? No, we don’t. They know something is going on that is important to everyone else. And they know that it has something to do with God. That is enough. Yes, we need to offer a fuller understanding as they grow older. And we’ll do that, through our Christian Education programs.
In the end, I don’t think when I get to heaven that God is going to ask me much about what I believed. But I would imagine there will be quite a few questions about what I did, or did not do. It is through our actions that we express what we believe. And I think excluding someone from the body of Christ because they don’t live up to our expectations is a wrong action. When we do that, we are standing in the doorway of the kingdom, blocking the way for others.
But how can we have unity if there is no common belief? Yes, there are some things that we have to agree on. We do have some core doctrines. There are some points on which we have to come to some kind of agreement, or it will be impossible for us to act in the name of Christ.
Our Gospel lesson points us towards one of these core doctrines. Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answered, "The Messiah of God." The Hebrew word mashah is translated into messiah, which means anointed. Christ is the Greek word christos which also means 'anointed.' For the first time in Luke's gospel, Jesus is proclaimed Messiah. Peter said that Jesus is anointed king and comes to free people and establish the kingdom of God.
This is important. It’s not enough to understand Jesus to be just another prophet, or a wise teacher, or a good man. And here’s why it is important:
We believe that Jesus is the manifestation of the divine; that Jesus is God incarnate. The reason this is important is that Jesus the Christ, Jesus the Messiah, represents the bridge between heaven and earth. God is no longer a distant deity. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. God has entered our world. God is among us.
This keeps us from falling into the common human error of thinking we can save ourselves. We can’t. We’re broken and we can’t fix ourselves. We need a savior. We need a God with skin on. And that is who Jesus Christ is for us.
That is our foundation. Our believe in Jesus as the Messiah, the word made flesh and moving among us, is the glue that holds all Christians together.
Do I think it matters how a person comes to this belief? No. It could be through the experience of God in their lives. It could be from hearing the scriptures. It could be from the example of God’s love that they have seen through Christians in action. There are many ways to encounter the risen Christ. And, since we all start at a different point, the way we express our beliefs are going to be different.
In essentials, unity
In nonessentials, diversity
In all things, charity.
Let us not consider our diversity of beliefs as a problem. Instead, let us celebrate this diversity, giving thanks to God who is revealed to us in so many ways, and so allowing all people to see and respond to God’s gift of grace. Let us be one in Christ Jesus.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Third Sunday After Pentecost
June 17, 2007
This morning, we have heard about Jesus going to a dinner party hosted by Simon, one of the leading citizens of Jerusalem. In the middle of the meal, something unexpected, something astonishing happened. A woman crashed the party. And not just any woman. A woman from the streets; a notorious sinner…a prostitute. She walks in and starts pouring expensive feet. Then she begin to cry, her tears falling on his feet. She begins to wipe his feet with her hair.
The actions of this woman broke just about every social custom of that day. Beyond that, it broke most of our social customs today.
Imagine if this happened to you. You’re having dinner, and a woman you’ve never seen before suddenly bursts into the dining room, and begins to wash your feet with her tears. I don’t know about you, but I’d be terribly embarrassed. What are people going to think? Aren’t they going to wonder how I came to know such a woman? This is going to destroy my reputation. Someone call 911. Get this crazy woman out of here.
That’s probably how Simon, the host of the party, saw things. He’s outraged by the whole thing. He thinks to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him-- that she is a sinner."
And sometimes, I think that is how the Church responds to some people. Not all the time, but sometimes. When we throw open the doors of the Church, and send out the message that are a welcome to join in the feast, some people may respond to that invitation that may make us feel uncomfortable. They’re different. Their a little strange. They don’t look like most of us. They dress differently. They talk differently. And maybe we know some of them to be notorious sinners.
And when persons like the woman in this morning’s Gospel story show up, they feel our reaction to their presence. The sad truth is that much too often, people who, like her, were drawn to Jesus too often avoid the church today.
Phillip Yancey tells the story of a friend of his in Chicago who worked with poor persons in the city. He was visited once by a prostitute who was in dire straits. She had been renting out her two-year old daughter to men for sex in order to support her drug habit; and she was homeless, sick, and unable to buy food for herself or her daughter. Yancey's friend asked if she had thought about going to a church for help, and the woman seemed horrified. "Church?! Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They'd just make me feel worse." She had experienced church as a place of judgment and inhospitality.
How can we be more hospitable to the stranger in our midst, even if we feel uncomfortable? We may want to take a closer look at Jesus’ response to this woman.
Instead of worrying about himself and his reputation, Jesus immediately jumped to the defense of this woman. We're not told exactly what had happened to this woman before she showed up at the party, ; but, obviously, something had taken place that was absolutely life-changing…life changing enough for her to kneel at Jesus feet and weep. Somehow, she had become aware of the love and mercy of God. Since it was to Jesus that she offered her gift of perfume, it must have been ministry of Jesus that was the catalyst for her change of heart.
Somehow, this woman had come to see that God's goodness is always bigger than our sinfulness. This woman had come to understand that there is nothing we can do to make God love us any more than God already loves us, and there is nothing we can do to make God stop loving us.
So how did Jesus respond to Simon’s outrage? He said to him, “"Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little."
Her sins have been forgiven; hence her great love. There’s a point here that we need to make sure we get straight. This woman was not trying to earn God’s forgiveness by washing Jesus’ feet. God’s grace is a free gift. We don’t deserve. And we can’t get it through good works. The woman in this story had already experienced God’s grace, God’s forgiveness. The act of ministering to Jesus was in response to this gift of grace. It was an act of thanksgiving for the good thing that god has already done.
When we find a stranger in our midst here at church, we need to always remember that God has already touched their lives. They wouldn’t be here otherwise. Our role is to celebrate with them the good thing that god has already done, and love them with the love of God.
In his commentary on this Gospel story, Fred Craddock wonders where one goes when told to go in peace as Jesus instructs this woman to do at the end of our story. "What she needs," Craddock says, "is a community of forgiven and forgiving sinners. The story," he says, "screams the need for a church, one that says you are welcome here."
There is an old legend about Judas that Madeleine L'Engle tells. The legend is that after his death Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit. For thousands of years he wept his repentance, and when the tears were finally spent, he looked up and saw way, way up a tiny glimmer of light. After he had contemplated it for another thousand years or so, he began to try to climb up towards the light. The walls of the pit were dark and slimy, and he kept slipping back down. Finally, after great effort, he neared the top and then he slipped and fell all the way back down to the bottom. It took him many years to recover, all the time weeping bitter tears of grief and repentance, and then he started to climb up again. After many more falls and efforts and failures, he reached the top and dragged himself into an upper room with twelve people seated around the table. "We've been waiting for you, Judas," Jesus said. "We couldn't begin till you came."
So many people are looking for a community of forgiven and forgiving sinners. May they find such a community on the corner of Main and Cedar in downtown Tuckerton.
This morning, we have heard about Jesus going to a dinner party hosted by Simon, one of the leading citizens of Jerusalem. In the middle of the meal, something unexpected, something astonishing happened. A woman crashed the party. And not just any woman. A woman from the streets; a notorious sinner…a prostitute. She walks in and starts pouring expensive feet. Then she begin to cry, her tears falling on his feet. She begins to wipe his feet with her hair.
The actions of this woman broke just about every social custom of that day. Beyond that, it broke most of our social customs today.
Imagine if this happened to you. You’re having dinner, and a woman you’ve never seen before suddenly bursts into the dining room, and begins to wash your feet with her tears. I don’t know about you, but I’d be terribly embarrassed. What are people going to think? Aren’t they going to wonder how I came to know such a woman? This is going to destroy my reputation. Someone call 911. Get this crazy woman out of here.
That’s probably how Simon, the host of the party, saw things. He’s outraged by the whole thing. He thinks to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him-- that she is a sinner."
And sometimes, I think that is how the Church responds to some people. Not all the time, but sometimes. When we throw open the doors of the Church, and send out the message that are a welcome to join in the feast, some people may respond to that invitation that may make us feel uncomfortable. They’re different. Their a little strange. They don’t look like most of us. They dress differently. They talk differently. And maybe we know some of them to be notorious sinners.
And when persons like the woman in this morning’s Gospel story show up, they feel our reaction to their presence. The sad truth is that much too often, people who, like her, were drawn to Jesus too often avoid the church today.
Phillip Yancey tells the story of a friend of his in Chicago who worked with poor persons in the city. He was visited once by a prostitute who was in dire straits. She had been renting out her two-year old daughter to men for sex in order to support her drug habit; and she was homeless, sick, and unable to buy food for herself or her daughter. Yancey's friend asked if she had thought about going to a church for help, and the woman seemed horrified. "Church?! Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They'd just make me feel worse." She had experienced church as a place of judgment and inhospitality.
How can we be more hospitable to the stranger in our midst, even if we feel uncomfortable? We may want to take a closer look at Jesus’ response to this woman.
Instead of worrying about himself and his reputation, Jesus immediately jumped to the defense of this woman. We're not told exactly what had happened to this woman before she showed up at the party, ; but, obviously, something had taken place that was absolutely life-changing…life changing enough for her to kneel at Jesus feet and weep. Somehow, she had become aware of the love and mercy of God. Since it was to Jesus that she offered her gift of perfume, it must have been ministry of Jesus that was the catalyst for her change of heart.
Somehow, this woman had come to see that God's goodness is always bigger than our sinfulness. This woman had come to understand that there is nothing we can do to make God love us any more than God already loves us, and there is nothing we can do to make God stop loving us.
So how did Jesus respond to Simon’s outrage? He said to him, “"Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little."
Her sins have been forgiven; hence her great love. There’s a point here that we need to make sure we get straight. This woman was not trying to earn God’s forgiveness by washing Jesus’ feet. God’s grace is a free gift. We don’t deserve. And we can’t get it through good works. The woman in this story had already experienced God’s grace, God’s forgiveness. The act of ministering to Jesus was in response to this gift of grace. It was an act of thanksgiving for the good thing that god has already done.
When we find a stranger in our midst here at church, we need to always remember that God has already touched their lives. They wouldn’t be here otherwise. Our role is to celebrate with them the good thing that god has already done, and love them with the love of God.
In his commentary on this Gospel story, Fred Craddock wonders where one goes when told to go in peace as Jesus instructs this woman to do at the end of our story. "What she needs," Craddock says, "is a community of forgiven and forgiving sinners. The story," he says, "screams the need for a church, one that says you are welcome here."
There is an old legend about Judas that Madeleine L'Engle tells. The legend is that after his death Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit. For thousands of years he wept his repentance, and when the tears were finally spent, he looked up and saw way, way up a tiny glimmer of light. After he had contemplated it for another thousand years or so, he began to try to climb up towards the light. The walls of the pit were dark and slimy, and he kept slipping back down. Finally, after great effort, he neared the top and then he slipped and fell all the way back down to the bottom. It took him many years to recover, all the time weeping bitter tears of grief and repentance, and then he started to climb up again. After many more falls and efforts and failures, he reached the top and dragged himself into an upper room with twelve people seated around the table. "We've been waiting for you, Judas," Jesus said. "We couldn't begin till you came."
So many people are looking for a community of forgiven and forgiving sinners. May they find such a community on the corner of Main and Cedar in downtown Tuckerton.
Homeless Outreach
We are supporting two ministries to the homeless: The Atlantic City Rescue Mission and The Lakewood Outreach Ministry. You can help by providing new towels, tooth paste and brushes, shampoo, bar soap, disposable razors, combs, brushes, toilet tissue and disposable diapers.
Items may be placed in the two large boxes in the Fellowship Hall marked for our ministry to the homeless. For more information, please contact the parish office at 609-296-9618. Please note that clothing is not needed at this time.
Items may be placed in the two large boxes in the Fellowship Hall marked for our ministry to the homeless. For more information, please contact the parish office at 609-296-9618. Please note that clothing is not needed at this time.
Vendor's Fair, Saturday, August 4
From 9:00 am to 3:00 pm, vendors will be set up in the parking lot across the street. Contact the parish office at 609-296-9618 to reserve a vendor space. First come, first served. An 8' space is $25, rain date is August 11.
Fellowship Dinners
On the last Wednesday of each month, we are offering a free hot meal to anyone who shows up. Leave your wallets home! Please call the parish office at 609-296-9618 to make your reservation.
ECW Potluck and Crazy Bingo, Tuesday, June 19
Bring a covered dish at 6:00 pm to share with 6, along with three $1 gifts, and join in the fun! Sign-up sheet in Fellowship Hall, or call the parish office at 609-296-9618.
Blueberry Festival, Saturday, July 14
Order your homemade blueberry pie today! The sign-up sheet is in Fellowship Hall, or call the parish office at 609-296-9618.
The Second Sunday after Pentecost, June 10, 2007
This morning we encounter two processions. One is going into the town of Nain and the other is coming out. Nain is a town in the South of Galilee, a short distance from Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth.
At the head of the procession going into Nain is Jesus. The procession coming out is led by a coffin. What will happen when these two processions cross paths at the town gate? Which one will give way?
Jesus sees the grieving mother. What does He do? How does He respond? His heart went out to her. He feels compassion for her. He chose to share in her sorrow.
Moved by compassion, Jesus acts. "Young man, I say to you, get up!" he shouts. And the dead man sat up and began to talk. The compassion of Jesus led to something amazing happening, something unexpected. Death was trampled down by the Lord of Life.
This is our Christian hope. Through Jesus Christ, death, our ancient enemy, has been cast down and trampled underfoot. Death has been swallowed up in victory. We no longer have to live in fear of death.
But, sometimes, we do anyway, don’t we? It's difficult not to fear death. I’m not just talking about physical death. We die many little deaths throughout our lives. Many of the changes we face feel much like a little death. We grieve the loss of the familiar. We long to relive days from our past.
But the reality is that if we are to continue to grow, we must accept these little deaths. We must allow ourselves to be transformed into the full stature of Christ. And for that to happen, we have to let go of some of the baggage that we are dragging around with us; those old grudges, those past regrets, and those character flaws. There are aspects of ourselves that we have to allow to die.
In our Epistle lesson, Paul speaks about his earlier life in Judaism; about how he was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. You may recall when St. Stephen was stoned to death, it was Saul, who later became Paul, who held the coats of the stone hurling crowd. When Paul encountered Christ on the road to Damascus, he was transformed. But that transformation required a little death as well; the zealous persecutor of the Church had to die.
Congregations have to pass through these little deaths as well, if they are to be transformed and follow the call of God. I was an interim priest for a few years. I would be assigned to serve in a congregation while they made their transition from one spiritual leader to another. Sometimes their former priest was the beloved rector. Sometimes he or she was not so beloved.
Regardless of the case, there was always some element of a grieving process going on in that congregation. Interims were expected to allow that process to happen, and attend to any pastoral needs that might result from it. It was only when the congregation faced that that particular chapter in their life was now over that they could begin to dream about the future. There had to be a little death before there could be room for new life.
Sometimes, we fear these little deaths so much, that we are a bit too cautious. We hesitate to do anything new or risky. What if we fail? What if there isn’t enough? What if we make a mistake? We stick to the familiar, to the comfortable, because we are afraid of dying.
Barbara Brown Taylor, an author and an Episcopal priest, recently wrote a thoughtful article in the Christian Century entitled, “The Poured-Out Church”. I want to share part of it with you:
…when I consider my life of faith, this world is clearly where my transformation has taken place. It is in the world that I have met the people who have changed me—some of them believers, but far more of them not—people who have loved me, fought me, shamed me, forgiven me, sanding down my edges on one side while they broke whole ragged chunks of me off the other. The world is where I have been struck dumb by beauty, by cruelty, by human invention and greed. The world is where my notions of God have been destroyed, reformed, chastened, redeemed. The world is where I have occasionally been good for something and where I have done irreparable harm.
The reason I know this, however, is that the church has given me the eyes with which I see, as well as the words with which I speak. The church has given me a community in which to figure out what has happened to me in the world. It has given me a place to love and grieve, within a tradition far older and wiser than I. It is the church that has poured me into the world, in other words—which is counterintuitive. How can a church survive that keeps pouring itself into the world? I cannot possibly say. All I know is the gospel truth: those willing to give everything away are the ones with anything worth keeping; those willing to look death full in the face are the ones with the most abundant lives. Go figure...
“…those willing to look death full in the face are the ones with the most abundant lives.” Can we look death full in the face? Are we willing to pour ourselves into the world? Will we risk much for the sake of the Gospel?
We can. And we will. Because we are Christians. Because we do not live in fear of death. Because we are those who proclaim the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I’m not suggesting we be foolish. There’s a difference between being bold and risking much and being foolish. We are certainly called to be good stewards of the gifts God has given us.
But we must always remember that our mission field is out there in the world. And to be effective witnesses for God, we must pour ourselves into the world, even if it seems risky; even if it seems deadly.
How do we know where to pour ourselves out? In this morning’s Gospel, when those two processions met, one led by life, and one led by death, it was at the moment that Jesus was filled with compassion for the widow that everything was transformed. Life overcame death. Mourning was transformed into laughter and joy. This transformation began with compassion; with Jesus opening his heart to the grief of the mother. Where do we begin to pour ourselves out? In those places where people are hurting; in those places where we find ourselves moved to open our hearts and reveal the compassion of Christ.
Let us always remember that we do not exist for the sake of the Church. We exist for the sake of the world. We are called to pour ourselves out, driven by compassion for those who are hurting in this world. If that means we have to look death full in the face, so be it. Cannot God raise up something new from the ashes of our vanquished dreams?
Let us not live in fear of death, or the little deaths that each of us will face as we walk together with Christ in our midst. Let us be willing to risk much for the sake of the world, and proclaim with our every word and deed the healing power of God’s love.
At the head of the procession going into Nain is Jesus. The procession coming out is led by a coffin. What will happen when these two processions cross paths at the town gate? Which one will give way?
Jesus sees the grieving mother. What does He do? How does He respond? His heart went out to her. He feels compassion for her. He chose to share in her sorrow.
Moved by compassion, Jesus acts. "Young man, I say to you, get up!" he shouts. And the dead man sat up and began to talk. The compassion of Jesus led to something amazing happening, something unexpected. Death was trampled down by the Lord of Life.
This is our Christian hope. Through Jesus Christ, death, our ancient enemy, has been cast down and trampled underfoot. Death has been swallowed up in victory. We no longer have to live in fear of death.
But, sometimes, we do anyway, don’t we? It's difficult not to fear death. I’m not just talking about physical death. We die many little deaths throughout our lives. Many of the changes we face feel much like a little death. We grieve the loss of the familiar. We long to relive days from our past.
But the reality is that if we are to continue to grow, we must accept these little deaths. We must allow ourselves to be transformed into the full stature of Christ. And for that to happen, we have to let go of some of the baggage that we are dragging around with us; those old grudges, those past regrets, and those character flaws. There are aspects of ourselves that we have to allow to die.
In our Epistle lesson, Paul speaks about his earlier life in Judaism; about how he was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. You may recall when St. Stephen was stoned to death, it was Saul, who later became Paul, who held the coats of the stone hurling crowd. When Paul encountered Christ on the road to Damascus, he was transformed. But that transformation required a little death as well; the zealous persecutor of the Church had to die.
Congregations have to pass through these little deaths as well, if they are to be transformed and follow the call of God. I was an interim priest for a few years. I would be assigned to serve in a congregation while they made their transition from one spiritual leader to another. Sometimes their former priest was the beloved rector. Sometimes he or she was not so beloved.
Regardless of the case, there was always some element of a grieving process going on in that congregation. Interims were expected to allow that process to happen, and attend to any pastoral needs that might result from it. It was only when the congregation faced that that particular chapter in their life was now over that they could begin to dream about the future. There had to be a little death before there could be room for new life.
Sometimes, we fear these little deaths so much, that we are a bit too cautious. We hesitate to do anything new or risky. What if we fail? What if there isn’t enough? What if we make a mistake? We stick to the familiar, to the comfortable, because we are afraid of dying.
Barbara Brown Taylor, an author and an Episcopal priest, recently wrote a thoughtful article in the Christian Century entitled, “The Poured-Out Church”. I want to share part of it with you:
…when I consider my life of faith, this world is clearly where my transformation has taken place. It is in the world that I have met the people who have changed me—some of them believers, but far more of them not—people who have loved me, fought me, shamed me, forgiven me, sanding down my edges on one side while they broke whole ragged chunks of me off the other. The world is where I have been struck dumb by beauty, by cruelty, by human invention and greed. The world is where my notions of God have been destroyed, reformed, chastened, redeemed. The world is where I have occasionally been good for something and where I have done irreparable harm.
The reason I know this, however, is that the church has given me the eyes with which I see, as well as the words with which I speak. The church has given me a community in which to figure out what has happened to me in the world. It has given me a place to love and grieve, within a tradition far older and wiser than I. It is the church that has poured me into the world, in other words—which is counterintuitive. How can a church survive that keeps pouring itself into the world? I cannot possibly say. All I know is the gospel truth: those willing to give everything away are the ones with anything worth keeping; those willing to look death full in the face are the ones with the most abundant lives. Go figure...
“…those willing to look death full in the face are the ones with the most abundant lives.” Can we look death full in the face? Are we willing to pour ourselves into the world? Will we risk much for the sake of the Gospel?
We can. And we will. Because we are Christians. Because we do not live in fear of death. Because we are those who proclaim the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I’m not suggesting we be foolish. There’s a difference between being bold and risking much and being foolish. We are certainly called to be good stewards of the gifts God has given us.
But we must always remember that our mission field is out there in the world. And to be effective witnesses for God, we must pour ourselves into the world, even if it seems risky; even if it seems deadly.
How do we know where to pour ourselves out? In this morning’s Gospel, when those two processions met, one led by life, and one led by death, it was at the moment that Jesus was filled with compassion for the widow that everything was transformed. Life overcame death. Mourning was transformed into laughter and joy. This transformation began with compassion; with Jesus opening his heart to the grief of the mother. Where do we begin to pour ourselves out? In those places where people are hurting; in those places where we find ourselves moved to open our hearts and reveal the compassion of Christ.
Let us always remember that we do not exist for the sake of the Church. We exist for the sake of the world. We are called to pour ourselves out, driven by compassion for those who are hurting in this world. If that means we have to look death full in the face, so be it. Cannot God raise up something new from the ashes of our vanquished dreams?
Let us not live in fear of death, or the little deaths that each of us will face as we walk together with Christ in our midst. Let us be willing to risk much for the sake of the world, and proclaim with our every word and deed the healing power of God’s love.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Fourth Sunday in Lent
In this morning’s Gospel Jesus tells the parable that is commonly known as the story of the prodigal son. The term “prodigal” is defined as “being wastefully or recklessly extravagant.
I think that a more appropriate title for this story would be “the prodigal father,” as, from our perspective, I think it is the father who acts in a most extravagant manner.
The two sons in this story represent two rather typical ways that most people respond to treasures entrusted into their care. It is the classic distinction between those who see a half glass of water as either being half full or half empty. One of these brothers is an incurable optimist. The other is a stubborn pessimist.
One way to define a pessimist is to imagine that a child is placed in a room full of toys, and after an hour, is found sitting in a corner, not having touched one of the toys. When asked why he refused to play with them, he responds, “I knew I’d just break them.” A definition of an optimist would be to put another child in a room full of horse manure, and when you came back in an hour, you’d find the child digging like crazy. When you asked why he is digging, his response would be, “Well, with all this manure, I just know there’s a pony in here somewhere!”
I think that there are times when it is appropriate to be optimistic, but there are also times when it is prudent to be a bit pessimistic as well. In this morning’s Gospel the two brothers represent the extremes of these two perspectives. One is a foolish optimist. The other is a joyless pessimist.
The issue is their inheritance; the wealth they will receive from their father. One demands it, and then squanders it. The other accuses his father of wasting it on his worthless brother.
These two brothers are not that unusual. We probably all know someone who has come into an inheritance and managed to spend every penny in a short time. And we also probably know those who most likely still own the first nickel they ever earned.
Note that both of these sons are stewards, not the owners, of this wealth. Their inheritance was the result of their father’s labor. Being good stewards, caretakers of that entrusted to us by another, requires a mixture of optimism; the willingness to invest in the future, and pessimism, the wisdom to not invest foolishly.
What is reckless, and even extravagant, is the response of the father to both of his sons. He greets the one who has squandered his inheritance with joy, and throws a party to celebrate his homecoming. In response to his angry elder son, he invites him to set aside his preoccupation of what is fair and what is not, and join in the party.
The reckless extravagance of the father has nothing to do with the inheritance of material wealth. It is about what is lost being found. It is all about his love for his sons. It is about his relationship with his sons. It is about grace, the unmerited favor a father offered to his sons.
It is with this same grace, this same unmerited favor, that God responds to each of us. It doesn’t matter if we are inclined to be optimistic or pessimistic, a squanderer or a hoarder; God wants us all to come home and join the party.
In his book, A Passion for Pilgrimage, Dean Alan Jones offers these words about homecoming:
The Great Memory is simply this; God has fallen in love with you and wants you to come home! Our first memory is God's love for us, and it is this memory that has been buried and repressed. Your first memory (if only you could get back to it) is that of being God's joy and delight. Why is it difficult to remember the joy of our beginnings in the heart of God? I wonder if it has something to do with our unwillingness to face the fact of our limited future? Memory and hope are intimately related. Perhaps we cannot recall the love that brought us into being in the first place, because we cannot imagine a love strong enough to pull us through the gates of death. I refuse to remember, because I dare not hope. I refuse to remember and I dare not hope, because I am frightened and angry because I will have to change.
God is madly, head over heals in love with each and every one of us. And, as the people of God, it is with this same passionate love that we are called to greet every person who walks through our doors. It doesn’t matter if we think they are worthy. It doesn’t matter where they have come from. We rejoice that one who was lost has once again returned to the family of God, and we invite them to join in the celebration.
We who are already members of the church might consider ourselves in the role of the eldest son. Our culture would the younger son who has left home. The biggest challenge in this story is for the eldest son to accept the prodigal grace, the recklessly extravagant grace, of God. Our challenge is to accept that those who are new to the kingdom of God are seen as equals in God’s eyes with those of us who have worked in the kingdom for most of our lives. There is no pecking order in God’s kingdom. And that doesn’t seem fair, does it? It’s not. God’s free gift of grace is not fair. It is freely given to all.
During this season of Lent, let us seek to return to God, and rejoice with the heavenly hosts when those who once were without hope experience the depth of God’s love. This parable has no ending. We are not told how the older brother responds to his father’s invitation to join the party. The celebration pauses as the guests await the brother’s response, and our response as well. This morning God asks each of us what we will do in response to God’s recklessly extravagant grace.
May we observe a holy Lent, resulting in abundant Easter joy.
I think that a more appropriate title for this story would be “the prodigal father,” as, from our perspective, I think it is the father who acts in a most extravagant manner.
The two sons in this story represent two rather typical ways that most people respond to treasures entrusted into their care. It is the classic distinction between those who see a half glass of water as either being half full or half empty. One of these brothers is an incurable optimist. The other is a stubborn pessimist.
One way to define a pessimist is to imagine that a child is placed in a room full of toys, and after an hour, is found sitting in a corner, not having touched one of the toys. When asked why he refused to play with them, he responds, “I knew I’d just break them.” A definition of an optimist would be to put another child in a room full of horse manure, and when you came back in an hour, you’d find the child digging like crazy. When you asked why he is digging, his response would be, “Well, with all this manure, I just know there’s a pony in here somewhere!”
I think that there are times when it is appropriate to be optimistic, but there are also times when it is prudent to be a bit pessimistic as well. In this morning’s Gospel the two brothers represent the extremes of these two perspectives. One is a foolish optimist. The other is a joyless pessimist.
The issue is their inheritance; the wealth they will receive from their father. One demands it, and then squanders it. The other accuses his father of wasting it on his worthless brother.
These two brothers are not that unusual. We probably all know someone who has come into an inheritance and managed to spend every penny in a short time. And we also probably know those who most likely still own the first nickel they ever earned.
Note that both of these sons are stewards, not the owners, of this wealth. Their inheritance was the result of their father’s labor. Being good stewards, caretakers of that entrusted to us by another, requires a mixture of optimism; the willingness to invest in the future, and pessimism, the wisdom to not invest foolishly.
What is reckless, and even extravagant, is the response of the father to both of his sons. He greets the one who has squandered his inheritance with joy, and throws a party to celebrate his homecoming. In response to his angry elder son, he invites him to set aside his preoccupation of what is fair and what is not, and join in the party.
The reckless extravagance of the father has nothing to do with the inheritance of material wealth. It is about what is lost being found. It is all about his love for his sons. It is about his relationship with his sons. It is about grace, the unmerited favor a father offered to his sons.
It is with this same grace, this same unmerited favor, that God responds to each of us. It doesn’t matter if we are inclined to be optimistic or pessimistic, a squanderer or a hoarder; God wants us all to come home and join the party.
In his book, A Passion for Pilgrimage, Dean Alan Jones offers these words about homecoming:
The Great Memory is simply this; God has fallen in love with you and wants you to come home! Our first memory is God's love for us, and it is this memory that has been buried and repressed. Your first memory (if only you could get back to it) is that of being God's joy and delight. Why is it difficult to remember the joy of our beginnings in the heart of God? I wonder if it has something to do with our unwillingness to face the fact of our limited future? Memory and hope are intimately related. Perhaps we cannot recall the love that brought us into being in the first place, because we cannot imagine a love strong enough to pull us through the gates of death. I refuse to remember, because I dare not hope. I refuse to remember and I dare not hope, because I am frightened and angry because I will have to change.
God is madly, head over heals in love with each and every one of us. And, as the people of God, it is with this same passionate love that we are called to greet every person who walks through our doors. It doesn’t matter if we think they are worthy. It doesn’t matter where they have come from. We rejoice that one who was lost has once again returned to the family of God, and we invite them to join in the celebration.
We who are already members of the church might consider ourselves in the role of the eldest son. Our culture would the younger son who has left home. The biggest challenge in this story is for the eldest son to accept the prodigal grace, the recklessly extravagant grace, of God. Our challenge is to accept that those who are new to the kingdom of God are seen as equals in God’s eyes with those of us who have worked in the kingdom for most of our lives. There is no pecking order in God’s kingdom. And that doesn’t seem fair, does it? It’s not. God’s free gift of grace is not fair. It is freely given to all.
During this season of Lent, let us seek to return to God, and rejoice with the heavenly hosts when those who once were without hope experience the depth of God’s love. This parable has no ending. We are not told how the older brother responds to his father’s invitation to join the party. The celebration pauses as the guests await the brother’s response, and our response as well. This morning God asks each of us what we will do in response to God’s recklessly extravagant grace.
May we observe a holy Lent, resulting in abundant Easter joy.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Second Sunday in Lent
Last week, we talked about temptation and personal sin. I mentioned that a good way to think about sin is to consider it as “twisted good.” Sin is a symptom of a spiritual dis-ease. The cure is to repent, to recognize that we have somehow allowed our focus to be turned to something else and to reorient our lives so that our focus is back on God. With God’s help, we can return to the good root.
That is an important part of what we do during the season of Lent. We seek out the sin in our lives, confess it, amend our lives, and turn our eyes once again toward God. That’s part of what we are called to do during this season, but that’s not the end of it. We don’t live in a vacuum. Our personal repentance is the beginning of our Lenten journey. Now we must look beyond ourselves. We look for the need for our larger community to repent and return to the Lord.
To some degree, cleaning up our personal lives is the easy part. Going out into the world with a message of repentance is a lot harder. But, unfortunately, if we are to be followers of Jesus Christ, I don’t think we have a choice.
In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus is warned that Herod is going to kill him. He does not waiver in his mission. He sets his face toward Jerusalem, and the cross. Neither can we hesitate when it comes to proclaiming the message of Christ to the world outside these walls.
The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ. To Restore All People. We are Christians not only for our own sakes, but for the sake of the world.
It seems to me that one of the primary roles of any congregation is to "equip the saints for ministry." To some degree, we offer worship and Christian Education opportunities to prepare us for the work God has set before us. But so many times there seems to be a lot of equipping going on, but not a whole lot of ministry. It's as if sometimes we feel that we're not quite ready -- one more class, one more experience of the living God, or one more prayer, and then (and only then!) we'll go out into the world and proclaim the Good News.
In the Gospel According to Mark we hear of John the Baptizer boldly proclaiming repentance and forgiveness through Baptism. We hear also of John's confronting King Herod. I would imagine that more than a few of John's followers gulped hard before accompanying him. But John and his followers continued in their prophetic preaching, and their ministries were blessed by God.
We have been called to go forth into the world and bear witness to the healing power of God's love. Inspired by the prophetic ministries of the Old Testament prophets, John and Jesus, we bear witness in word and deed. And we always remember that with each step of the way, we will find Christ in our midst, who breathes the Spirit upon all disciples. That is all we need. We are ready for this mission, whether we know it or not. What are we waiting for?
Amidst the struggles that the Church faces today, there will be times as we venture out into the world when we are called to prophetic ministry. We must put our hope in Christ, and not shy away from this calling.
We are called to prophetic action. We are called to be the John the Baptists of the world, proclaiming the message, “Repent! For the kingdom of God is at hand!”
The image of John the Baptist may make some of us a bit uncomfortable. He is depicted in scripture as being a hard, angry man, usually delivering his message stridently. And maybe we have good reasons to question if such a strident way of proclaiming our message would be well received outside these walls.
Maybe there’s another way to express our prophetic role. Let’s return to the example of Jesus in this morning’s Gospel. Consider his response to Jerusalem, the beloved center of the world for all Israelites:"Jerusalem, Jerusalem," he says, "how often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!"
Jesus knows that he is going to Jerusalem, and will be will be rejected by the people. He knows what he is going to face there, that he will be arrested, suffer and be executed by his enemies. And yet, he weeps, not for himself but for the very people who will reject him. His heart breaks because he cares for them. He is willing to do whatever it takes to gather them under God’s wings. He weeps over Jerusalem, and all of humanity, because he has the heart of God. And God cares.
Those who follow Jesus, follow his example. At the root of the ministry of Jesus is love. And so, at the root of our message to the world must be God’s love. Two men were sitting at lunch one day when the topic of church came up. The first said that his congregation had a new preacher.
"What happened to the old one?" his friend asked.
"We didn’t much care for him, so he left."
"What didn’t you like about him?"
"It was his preaching," the man said. "He kept telling us we are sinners and that if we didn’t repent we would face the judgment of God."
"Oh," the second man said. "So what does the new one preach?"
"He tells us that we’re sinners and that if we don’t repent we will face the judgment of God."
The second man looked a little confused. "I don’t understand," he said. "What’s the difference?"
"The new one," his friend noted, "has tears in his eyes when he says it."
What was the difference between the two? The new one cared. The plight of people mattered enough for him to weep over their place before God.
Writing in a journal on ministry, William Easum once asked, "When was the last time your church leaders wept over the plight of your city instead of worrying about paying the bills?"
It is a good question isn’t it?
When was the last time we wept for the homeless men and women who live in camps just outside of our towns?
When was the last time we wept for the children who go to bed hungry every night?
When was the last time we wept over the people who have never heard the Good News of God in Christ?
When was the last time we wept because people refused to let God gather them under God’s wings?
Stepping into such a prophetic role will be difficult. We will make some people uncomfortable with our words and actions. No doubt this role was difficult for the prophets of the Old Testament as well, and John the Baptist handed over his very life to it. But if we have been called by God to this ministry, it is time to drop the excuses and go! The road may be hard, but the joy and peace we find on it will be deep, for our companion on the journey is Christ, who promised, "I am with you always, to the end of the age."
That is an important part of what we do during the season of Lent. We seek out the sin in our lives, confess it, amend our lives, and turn our eyes once again toward God. That’s part of what we are called to do during this season, but that’s not the end of it. We don’t live in a vacuum. Our personal repentance is the beginning of our Lenten journey. Now we must look beyond ourselves. We look for the need for our larger community to repent and return to the Lord.
To some degree, cleaning up our personal lives is the easy part. Going out into the world with a message of repentance is a lot harder. But, unfortunately, if we are to be followers of Jesus Christ, I don’t think we have a choice.
In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus is warned that Herod is going to kill him. He does not waiver in his mission. He sets his face toward Jerusalem, and the cross. Neither can we hesitate when it comes to proclaiming the message of Christ to the world outside these walls.
The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ. To Restore All People. We are Christians not only for our own sakes, but for the sake of the world.
It seems to me that one of the primary roles of any congregation is to "equip the saints for ministry." To some degree, we offer worship and Christian Education opportunities to prepare us for the work God has set before us. But so many times there seems to be a lot of equipping going on, but not a whole lot of ministry. It's as if sometimes we feel that we're not quite ready -- one more class, one more experience of the living God, or one more prayer, and then (and only then!) we'll go out into the world and proclaim the Good News.
In the Gospel According to Mark we hear of John the Baptizer boldly proclaiming repentance and forgiveness through Baptism. We hear also of John's confronting King Herod. I would imagine that more than a few of John's followers gulped hard before accompanying him. But John and his followers continued in their prophetic preaching, and their ministries were blessed by God.
We have been called to go forth into the world and bear witness to the healing power of God's love. Inspired by the prophetic ministries of the Old Testament prophets, John and Jesus, we bear witness in word and deed. And we always remember that with each step of the way, we will find Christ in our midst, who breathes the Spirit upon all disciples. That is all we need. We are ready for this mission, whether we know it or not. What are we waiting for?
Amidst the struggles that the Church faces today, there will be times as we venture out into the world when we are called to prophetic ministry. We must put our hope in Christ, and not shy away from this calling.
We are called to prophetic action. We are called to be the John the Baptists of the world, proclaiming the message, “Repent! For the kingdom of God is at hand!”
The image of John the Baptist may make some of us a bit uncomfortable. He is depicted in scripture as being a hard, angry man, usually delivering his message stridently. And maybe we have good reasons to question if such a strident way of proclaiming our message would be well received outside these walls.
Maybe there’s another way to express our prophetic role. Let’s return to the example of Jesus in this morning’s Gospel. Consider his response to Jerusalem, the beloved center of the world for all Israelites:"Jerusalem, Jerusalem," he says, "how often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!"
Jesus knows that he is going to Jerusalem, and will be will be rejected by the people. He knows what he is going to face there, that he will be arrested, suffer and be executed by his enemies. And yet, he weeps, not for himself but for the very people who will reject him. His heart breaks because he cares for them. He is willing to do whatever it takes to gather them under God’s wings. He weeps over Jerusalem, and all of humanity, because he has the heart of God. And God cares.
Those who follow Jesus, follow his example. At the root of the ministry of Jesus is love. And so, at the root of our message to the world must be God’s love. Two men were sitting at lunch one day when the topic of church came up. The first said that his congregation had a new preacher.
"What happened to the old one?" his friend asked.
"We didn’t much care for him, so he left."
"What didn’t you like about him?"
"It was his preaching," the man said. "He kept telling us we are sinners and that if we didn’t repent we would face the judgment of God."
"Oh," the second man said. "So what does the new one preach?"
"He tells us that we’re sinners and that if we don’t repent we will face the judgment of God."
The second man looked a little confused. "I don’t understand," he said. "What’s the difference?"
"The new one," his friend noted, "has tears in his eyes when he says it."
What was the difference between the two? The new one cared. The plight of people mattered enough for him to weep over their place before God.
Writing in a journal on ministry, William Easum once asked, "When was the last time your church leaders wept over the plight of your city instead of worrying about paying the bills?"
It is a good question isn’t it?
When was the last time we wept for the homeless men and women who live in camps just outside of our towns?
When was the last time we wept for the children who go to bed hungry every night?
When was the last time we wept over the people who have never heard the Good News of God in Christ?
When was the last time we wept because people refused to let God gather them under God’s wings?
Stepping into such a prophetic role will be difficult. We will make some people uncomfortable with our words and actions. No doubt this role was difficult for the prophets of the Old Testament as well, and John the Baptist handed over his very life to it. But if we have been called by God to this ministry, it is time to drop the excuses and go! The road may be hard, but the joy and peace we find on it will be deep, for our companion on the journey is Christ, who promised, "I am with you always, to the end of the age."
First Sunday in Lent, February 24, 2007
As we enter this season of Lent, we are offered the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.
The three temptations that he faces symbolize many of the temptations that each of us face on a regular basis. This morning I want to look at each of them a little closer, in hopes of helping us be more prepared when we encounter them.
First of all, maybe I need to make it clear that we need to be very careful about confusing temptation with sin. Lots of different things might wander through our minds. Some of those thoughts might be quite ugly. We might be able to limit such thoughts by more closely monitoring what we let into our heads…what we watch on TV, what we read, the kinds of conversations we engage in, for instance. But I think we need to be clear that ugly thoughts wandering through our heads are not necessarily sinful. It is how we respond to such thoughts. Do we dwell on them? Do we act on them? Or do we let them just pass by?
Jesus was tempted, as we are. Yet he did not sin. He rejected those ugly thoughts.
The first temptation is to satisfy his hunger by turning stones into bread. Satisfying our physical appetites is a strong temptation for most people. And at its root is something that is not necessarily wrong.
To understand that, let me give you a definition of sin that I’ve found helpful. Sin is twisted good. At the root of every sin is something good. Sometimes when I hear the suggestion that the way to deal with sin is to cut it out over our lives, I find that idea making little sense to me. Do we really think we can surgically remove a part of ourselves without such a surgery affecting the rest of our being? I don’t think we can do that. We may be able to suppress those parts of who we are that we find tempts us to sin, but eventually it will come back to trouble us again.
I think a healthier way is to untwist the sin…to find its healthy root.
Let’s take for instance the temptation to satisfy our appetites. Often this arises out of the uncomfortable longing that most people experience for that elusive “something more.” We feel something missing. Life isn’t quite right. And so we seek some form of physical gratification to fill that void. Often whatever it is we use; food, sex, alcohol, drugs, whatever our particular temptation is, it seems to satisfy us for the moment, but eventually we find ourselves struggling with that same longing, now complicated by our possible feelings of guilt and remorse because of having given in to the temptation previously.
There’s nothing wrong in recognizing our longing for something more. Actually, that is a healthy thing. When tempted Jesus responded, “Man does not live by bread alone.” In another version of this story, he says, “man does not live by bread alone but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” This is what we truly long for…God. It is God who will fill that empty void.
Most times, there is nothing wrong with addressing our felt needs: our need for food, shelter, security, companionship. The problem comes when we confuse these things with our real needs, our eternal needs. As Thomas a Kempis said, we use things temporal, but we desire things eternal.
The next temptation Jesus faced was power. He was offered the rule of many kingdoms. Power and authority is a strong temptation for some of us. At its root is a desire to have some control of our lives…to assert some authority over those things we can control. This is not necessarily a bad thing. We could even say that it is an appropriate role for good stewards of God’s creation. The problem comes in when we begin to think that the power rests fully in us; that we rule instead of being stewards. The occasion of sin is when we try to play God.
The reality is that we are never in control, and we can never be God. But we are tempted to try. If we give in to that temptation, we might feel for awhile that we are God, but eventually we will come to realize that we have replaced God with another idol; something outside of ourselves that is driving us to seek power. Jesus’ response to this temptation is to say 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'" We let God be God, and we serve as God’s stewards.
The last temptation grows out of the one before it. Once we realize that we are not God, there is the temptation to try to control God, to find ways to manipulate God’s power. I’d suggest to you that throughout history, one of the institutions that has given in to this temptation is the Church.
I’ll let you think about that one a little bit. For now let me just say that as Christians, we are not into magic, or magical thinking. We are not trying to manipulate God. Our intention is to become aware of the ways in which God is already manifest, the ways in which God is already among us. We are not summoning God to make an appearance here this morning through our prayers. God is already here, and always has been. The change happens within us; we grow to see God moving among us, and then join in God’s dance, usually referred to as doing God’s will in the world.
We do not put God to the test by trying to control or manipulate God. Instead, we seek out God among us, within each of us, and rolling through all things.
When faced with temptations, seek things eternal. Let God be God, and open your eyes to God’s presence among us.
May we observe a holy Lent, resulting in abundant Easter joy.
The three temptations that he faces symbolize many of the temptations that each of us face on a regular basis. This morning I want to look at each of them a little closer, in hopes of helping us be more prepared when we encounter them.
First of all, maybe I need to make it clear that we need to be very careful about confusing temptation with sin. Lots of different things might wander through our minds. Some of those thoughts might be quite ugly. We might be able to limit such thoughts by more closely monitoring what we let into our heads…what we watch on TV, what we read, the kinds of conversations we engage in, for instance. But I think we need to be clear that ugly thoughts wandering through our heads are not necessarily sinful. It is how we respond to such thoughts. Do we dwell on them? Do we act on them? Or do we let them just pass by?
Jesus was tempted, as we are. Yet he did not sin. He rejected those ugly thoughts.
The first temptation is to satisfy his hunger by turning stones into bread. Satisfying our physical appetites is a strong temptation for most people. And at its root is something that is not necessarily wrong.
To understand that, let me give you a definition of sin that I’ve found helpful. Sin is twisted good. At the root of every sin is something good. Sometimes when I hear the suggestion that the way to deal with sin is to cut it out over our lives, I find that idea making little sense to me. Do we really think we can surgically remove a part of ourselves without such a surgery affecting the rest of our being? I don’t think we can do that. We may be able to suppress those parts of who we are that we find tempts us to sin, but eventually it will come back to trouble us again.
I think a healthier way is to untwist the sin…to find its healthy root.
Let’s take for instance the temptation to satisfy our appetites. Often this arises out of the uncomfortable longing that most people experience for that elusive “something more.” We feel something missing. Life isn’t quite right. And so we seek some form of physical gratification to fill that void. Often whatever it is we use; food, sex, alcohol, drugs, whatever our particular temptation is, it seems to satisfy us for the moment, but eventually we find ourselves struggling with that same longing, now complicated by our possible feelings of guilt and remorse because of having given in to the temptation previously.
There’s nothing wrong in recognizing our longing for something more. Actually, that is a healthy thing. When tempted Jesus responded, “Man does not live by bread alone.” In another version of this story, he says, “man does not live by bread alone but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” This is what we truly long for…God. It is God who will fill that empty void.
Most times, there is nothing wrong with addressing our felt needs: our need for food, shelter, security, companionship. The problem comes when we confuse these things with our real needs, our eternal needs. As Thomas a Kempis said, we use things temporal, but we desire things eternal.
The next temptation Jesus faced was power. He was offered the rule of many kingdoms. Power and authority is a strong temptation for some of us. At its root is a desire to have some control of our lives…to assert some authority over those things we can control. This is not necessarily a bad thing. We could even say that it is an appropriate role for good stewards of God’s creation. The problem comes in when we begin to think that the power rests fully in us; that we rule instead of being stewards. The occasion of sin is when we try to play God.
The reality is that we are never in control, and we can never be God. But we are tempted to try. If we give in to that temptation, we might feel for awhile that we are God, but eventually we will come to realize that we have replaced God with another idol; something outside of ourselves that is driving us to seek power. Jesus’ response to this temptation is to say 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'" We let God be God, and we serve as God’s stewards.
The last temptation grows out of the one before it. Once we realize that we are not God, there is the temptation to try to control God, to find ways to manipulate God’s power. I’d suggest to you that throughout history, one of the institutions that has given in to this temptation is the Church.
I’ll let you think about that one a little bit. For now let me just say that as Christians, we are not into magic, or magical thinking. We are not trying to manipulate God. Our intention is to become aware of the ways in which God is already manifest, the ways in which God is already among us. We are not summoning God to make an appearance here this morning through our prayers. God is already here, and always has been. The change happens within us; we grow to see God moving among us, and then join in God’s dance, usually referred to as doing God’s will in the world.
We do not put God to the test by trying to control or manipulate God. Instead, we seek out God among us, within each of us, and rolling through all things.
When faced with temptations, seek things eternal. Let God be God, and open your eyes to God’s presence among us.
May we observe a holy Lent, resulting in abundant Easter joy.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Telephone Tree
Do you have news or prayer requests? If so, Vestry member Evie Brown can help you. Contact the parish office at 609-296-9618.
Boston Coffee Cakes
This is a popular annual fund raiser for Holy Spirit. Orders must be in by Sunday, March 4. Sign up for your cakes and take an order sheet if you can sell some to family, friends or neighbors. Each cake is 24 oz, costs $9.95 (of which the church receives 40%) and will arrive freshly baked for Palm Sunday.
The Craft Group
The Craft Group meets on Wednesdays from 10 am to 3 pm. Everyone is welcome. Bring your lunch; coffee, tea, soda are available. Our current year's outreach project is making lap robes for Meadowview Nursing Home. If you knit or crochet, but can't come on Wednesdays and would like to work on this project from home, let us know. We can supply you with yarn.
Card and Game Party, March 5
On Monday, March 5 from noon to 4:00 pm, bring a snack to share to the church and let the fun begin!
World Day of Prayer
On March 2, churches in the Tuckerton area will gather at 2:00 pm at the Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, located on the corner of Mathistown Road and Highway 9. Everyone is invited.
Thursday Night "Equipping the Saints" Class
Please join us for a study of the third volume of The Church's Teaching Series, The Practice of Prayer, by Margaret Guenther. The study of this particular volume is especially appropriate as part of your Lenten discipline. We begin at 6:30 pm in the library. Books are available from Fr. Terry.
"Welcome to the Episcopal Church" Class
This class meets on Sundays at noon in the undercroft (downstairs hall). This is a class to help us learn more about what it means to be an Episcopalian. Everyone is welcome, newcomers and those seeking a refresher course.
Lenten Program, Fridays During Lent
5:45 - Evening Prayer
6:00 - Simple meal (soup and bread provided)
6:15 - Program: "Groundwork - Digging Deep for Change and Growth" - The goal of Groundwork is to encourage personal and congregational transformation, to ask our members and leaders to dig deeply into the soil of our mission and context so that we may engage in serious and joyful learning about evangelism and service.
6:00 - Simple meal (soup and bread provided)
6:15 - Program: "Groundwork - Digging Deep for Change and Growth" - The goal of Groundwork is to encourage personal and congregational transformation, to ask our members and leaders to dig deeply into the soil of our mission and context so that we may engage in serious and joyful learning about evangelism and service.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Nothing Like A Professional
A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her small daughter was very sick with a fever.
She left her work and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication. She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys inside!
She didn’t know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what had happened. The baby sitter told her that the fever was getting worse. She said, “You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door.”
The woman looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been left on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time had locked their keys in their car. She looked at the hanger and said, “I don’t know how to use this.”
She bowed her head and asked God to send her help. Within five minutes a beat up old motorcycle pulled up, with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag on his head.
The woman thought, “This is what you sent to help me?”
But she was desperate, so she was also very thankful.
The man got off of his cycle and asked if he could help.
She said, “Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some medication and I locked my keys in my car. I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?
He said, “Sure.” He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was opened. She hugged the man and through her tears she said, “Thank you so much! You are a very nice man!”
The man replied, “Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today. I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour.”
The woman hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud,
“Oh, Thank you, Lord! You even sent me a professional!”
She left her work and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication. She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys inside!
She didn’t know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what had happened. The baby sitter told her that the fever was getting worse. She said, “You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door.”
The woman looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been left on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time had locked their keys in their car. She looked at the hanger and said, “I don’t know how to use this.”
She bowed her head and asked God to send her help. Within five minutes a beat up old motorcycle pulled up, with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag on his head.
The woman thought, “This is what you sent to help me?”
But she was desperate, so she was also very thankful.
The man got off of his cycle and asked if he could help.
She said, “Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some medication and I locked my keys in my car. I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?
He said, “Sure.” He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was opened. She hugged the man and through her tears she said, “Thank you so much! You are a very nice man!”
The man replied, “Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today. I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour.”
The woman hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud,
“Oh, Thank you, Lord! You even sent me a professional!”
Friday, September 29, 2006
Our Big Day
A big day in the life of our parish happens tomorrow, Saturday, September 30th, 2006, when we will welcome our bishop, +George Councell, and together with him celebrate the new ministry of our Vicar. We will also give thanks for our new building and dedicate it for the use of our parish. The celebration begins at three pm in the former St. Theresa's RC church on Main Street in Tuckerton, which is now known as The Church of the Holy Spirit, Episcopal.
Come, Holy Ghost
Creator blest
And in our hearts take up Thy rest.
Come with Thy grace
And heavenly aid
To fill the hearts
Which Thou hast made
To fill the hearts
Which Thou hast made.
Come, Holy Ghost
Creator blest
And in our hearts take up Thy rest.
Come with Thy grace
And heavenly aid
To fill the hearts
Which Thou hast made
To fill the hearts
Which Thou hast made.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Who Is St. Therese of Lisieux?
We are now moved into the former St. Theresa's RC Church on East Main Street, Tuckerton! That building will now be known as Holy Spirit Episcopal Church.
Who is the Theresa for which our new parish home was named in its first incarnation?
There are a few saints with this name, but this Theresa was also known as "the Little Flower" of Jesus. She stumbled upon a brand of spirituality that is absolute genius, because anyone at all can follow it.
As a young girl, Theresa dreamed of doing grand things for God. She often fantasized about becoming a missionary in a wild, dangerous place, or becoming an explorer, or some daring and courageous person who would die a dramatic death and become a martyr.
Instead, she died of tuberculosis after having lived as a cloistered Carmelite, and did not live to see her thirtieth year.
But Therese discovered a great spiritual truth more or less by accident: it was that sanctity was available to everyone, no matter what their station in life, or their occupation. It was, she realized, simply a matter of doing whatever you were doing as well as you possibly could, and dedicate it all to God. No matter where you were in life--a doctor or a dishwasher, it didn't matter--the path of holiness and sainthood was open to you.
Such a simple and obvious truth. No wonder we all missed it until Theresa pointed it out to us.
Theresa is known for her love of roses. She said, "I want to spend my heaven doing good on earth, and I will send a shower of roses so that you know I am with you."
St. Theresa
Who is the Theresa for which our new parish home was named in its first incarnation?
There are a few saints with this name, but this Theresa was also known as "the Little Flower" of Jesus. She stumbled upon a brand of spirituality that is absolute genius, because anyone at all can follow it.
As a young girl, Theresa dreamed of doing grand things for God. She often fantasized about becoming a missionary in a wild, dangerous place, or becoming an explorer, or some daring and courageous person who would die a dramatic death and become a martyr.
Instead, she died of tuberculosis after having lived as a cloistered Carmelite, and did not live to see her thirtieth year.
But Therese discovered a great spiritual truth more or less by accident: it was that sanctity was available to everyone, no matter what their station in life, or their occupation. It was, she realized, simply a matter of doing whatever you were doing as well as you possibly could, and dedicate it all to God. No matter where you were in life--a doctor or a dishwasher, it didn't matter--the path of holiness and sainthood was open to you.
Such a simple and obvious truth. No wonder we all missed it until Theresa pointed it out to us.
Theresa is known for her love of roses. She said, "I want to spend my heaven doing good on earth, and I will send a shower of roses so that you know I am with you."
Sunday, May 14, 2006
May 14, 2006
Today, throughout this country, we honor one of the most important roles of humanity. Today, we honor Motherhood.
In today's culture, you would think that this day would be decreed to be something a little more inclusive. Parent's Day, maybe? But no, over time, this day has managed to keep its significance, and identify the role of Mother as being unique to the role of Father. Is there a difference?
In today's households, many roles are shared by the parents, making the line between Moms and Dads a little more blurry. The stereotypical roles no longer define parents in today's world. The reality is that we are each a composite of many different characteristics; some masculine, and some feminine. More than ever before, the title Parent seems more appropriate.
Our Parent, who art in heaven... That doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it? That's the problem with language. It is not always a rational endeavor. And maybe that's a good thing, as our images of God are not always rationale, either. When it comes to the nature of God, we know very little. We talk about God using metaphors. Sometimes metaphors are helpful. Sometimes they're not. If our reference to God as Father leads us to believe that God must be male, much like our earthly fathers, and our experience of earthly fathers is negative, then the metaphor of God as father may hinder our relationship and our understanding of God. Speaking of God as Parent probably isn't much better, as our relationship with God might become yoked to our interaction with our earthly parents.
Our Father/Mother, who art in heaven... This is a cumbersome way to address God, but it does have some merit. It is a complex image, a unique image, and one that is not readily accepted literally. It contains an element of mystery. But, once again, it just doesn't sound right to our ear, does it?
Our Mother who art in heaven... This metaphor has the same problem as the Father metaphor. Referring to God as Mother makes it easy to let our earthly Mother become our model of God. Yet, it is a metaphor worth exploring, as I think it is an option that has been neglected for much too long.
God is both Father and Mother. God has both masculine and feminine characteristics. You may have never thought of God before with feminine characteristics. I invite you today to consider God as Mother; to consider God as the One who gathers us under Her wings.
Mother's Day is not specifically a religious holiday, although it is interesting that the lectionary provides us with today's Gospel for the Sunday set aside to honor mothers. Jesus said, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments…and I will love you and reveal myself to you."
If there was ever a human metaphor for the love of God, it would probably be the love of a mother for her child; an unconditional love. God's love is totally unconditional.
I invite you to recall some of your memories of unconditional love from your life. They don't have to be memories of your mother's love. You might remember such love from your father, grandparents, spouse, or any other significant person in your life. We are referring to this "no strings attached" love as motherly love, but it didn't have to come from your mom. We've all experienced this kind of love, expressions of care that were unearned and undeserved. Even though it may not have been your personal experience, the idea of unconditional love, born through the ages in song and literature, has been wrapped up with the image of Mother.
This morning I want to suggest to you that the term Mother is an appropriate way to address God, who offers us unconditional love, and who gives us a new commandment, that we love one another.
Let me tell a story to illustrate the difference between the masculine and the feminine, a story that might help illustrate why I think right now, in this time in history, the image of Mother is a good way to envision God. It is a story told by Ed Gentry, a bible study leader at a church in Texas.
Today, I have invited you to stretch your understanding of God, to explore the possibility of seeing God as your heavenly Mother. I have found this metaphor to be helpful in my life. I suspect it may be helpful to some of you.
Let us celebrate motherhood this day, and give thanks to God our Mother. Let us also honor God as we encounter Her in those around us. Express your love for the mothers in your life. They are created in the image of God.
In today's culture, you would think that this day would be decreed to be something a little more inclusive. Parent's Day, maybe? But no, over time, this day has managed to keep its significance, and identify the role of Mother as being unique to the role of Father. Is there a difference?
In today's households, many roles are shared by the parents, making the line between Moms and Dads a little more blurry. The stereotypical roles no longer define parents in today's world. The reality is that we are each a composite of many different characteristics; some masculine, and some feminine. More than ever before, the title Parent seems more appropriate.
Our Parent, who art in heaven... That doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it? That's the problem with language. It is not always a rational endeavor. And maybe that's a good thing, as our images of God are not always rationale, either. When it comes to the nature of God, we know very little. We talk about God using metaphors. Sometimes metaphors are helpful. Sometimes they're not. If our reference to God as Father leads us to believe that God must be male, much like our earthly fathers, and our experience of earthly fathers is negative, then the metaphor of God as father may hinder our relationship and our understanding of God. Speaking of God as Parent probably isn't much better, as our relationship with God might become yoked to our interaction with our earthly parents.
Our Father/Mother, who art in heaven... This is a cumbersome way to address God, but it does have some merit. It is a complex image, a unique image, and one that is not readily accepted literally. It contains an element of mystery. But, once again, it just doesn't sound right to our ear, does it?
Our Mother who art in heaven... This metaphor has the same problem as the Father metaphor. Referring to God as Mother makes it easy to let our earthly Mother become our model of God. Yet, it is a metaphor worth exploring, as I think it is an option that has been neglected for much too long.
God is both Father and Mother. God has both masculine and feminine characteristics. You may have never thought of God before with feminine characteristics. I invite you today to consider God as Mother; to consider God as the One who gathers us under Her wings.
Mother's Day is not specifically a religious holiday, although it is interesting that the lectionary provides us with today's Gospel for the Sunday set aside to honor mothers. Jesus said, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments…and I will love you and reveal myself to you."
If there was ever a human metaphor for the love of God, it would probably be the love of a mother for her child; an unconditional love. God's love is totally unconditional.
I invite you to recall some of your memories of unconditional love from your life. They don't have to be memories of your mother's love. You might remember such love from your father, grandparents, spouse, or any other significant person in your life. We are referring to this "no strings attached" love as motherly love, but it didn't have to come from your mom. We've all experienced this kind of love, expressions of care that were unearned and undeserved. Even though it may not have been your personal experience, the idea of unconditional love, born through the ages in song and literature, has been wrapped up with the image of Mother.
This morning I want to suggest to you that the term Mother is an appropriate way to address God, who offers us unconditional love, and who gives us a new commandment, that we love one another.
Let me tell a story to illustrate the difference between the masculine and the feminine, a story that might help illustrate why I think right now, in this time in history, the image of Mother is a good way to envision God. It is a story told by Ed Gentry, a bible study leader at a church in Texas.
When I was a kid, we used to go to my grandparents dairy farm for a week each year. Each morning my grandmother would wake up at 4am and head out to the pasture to round up the cows and take them to the barn for milking. I will never forget the day I came of age. It was announced the following morning I would be allowed to get up and go with my grandmother as she performed her duties.Our Mother, who art in heaven, softly calling our names in the darkness. God the Creator giving birth to all creation, nurturing and sustaining Her creation, and expressing an inclusive love for all of creation. I think our world needs this metaphor for God right now. One who creates, nurtures and sustains.
By the time grandmother was ready to go, so was I...decked out completely with cowboy boots, plastic chaps, genuine leather holster, metal cap gun, bandana, cowboy hat, and, if memory serves, she found me digging around for a piece of rope to be used to wrangle the particularly reluctant doggies.
You can imagine my surprise when, as we started to walk to the barn, she began to softly call out the cows names into the darkness. By the time we got to the barn, the first few cows were lining up to come in and get milked. I don't remember if the surprise knocked me off my feet or I slipped on a cow patty, but I was really bothered. This was not how you were supposed to round up cattle. It bothered me for a long time. As we studied Psalm 23 last month, this memory came rushing back. My vision is of God gently calling our names in the dark as we walk through our lives. I think cattle prods would be more effective.
Today, I have invited you to stretch your understanding of God, to explore the possibility of seeing God as your heavenly Mother. I have found this metaphor to be helpful in my life. I suspect it may be helpful to some of you.
Let us celebrate motherhood this day, and give thanks to God our Mother. Let us also honor God as we encounter Her in those around us. Express your love for the mothers in your life. They are created in the image of God.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
April 30, 2006
The resurrected Christ appears to his disciples and tells them, "You are the witnesses of these things."
The disciples were called witnesses. What do you think of when you hear the word "witness"? I think of Perry Mason, one of my favorite shows as a kid. A good witness could steal the whole episode. What else leaps to mind? I have another image that springs to mind; from my childhood Pentecostal days, of witnessing on street corners. Sometimes it felt more like shoving Jesus down someone's throat if they wanted it or not. But we understood that's what Jesus called us to do.
And, to some degree, I think this approach is correct. I don’t think aggressive evangelism is very successful today, but if we really believe that we have found a way that gives meaning and purpose to our lives, it would seem that we would be bursting to share what we have found with those we encounter each day. We are called to be witnesses. But I'm not sure that street corners are the best place to find people who are open to the Gospel.
We are each being called to be witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Today, it is the church that keeps Jesus alive in our midst by becoming the risen body of Christ. Jesus the Christ has become known to us, through the witness of scripture, and through the witness of how Jesus Christ has touched our lives.
How has Jesus Christ touched your life? What are the particular things that you can proclaim as a witness for Christ?
Being a witness can be difficult. We don't know what to say, or when to say it, or when to stop. Don't feel bad. At first, right after the resurrection, the disciples didn't feel up to the job, and they weren’t. Jesus told them to wait, to not start being his witness yet. Jesus knew that though the disciples were full of enthusiasm and good intentions, when push came to shove, they were really only ordinary people. They were to wait, until they were filled with the Holy Spirit, until they were filled with the presence of the living God.
It is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit that allows the Church to become the body of Christ. When we try to run on our own power, or our own strength, we are setting ourselves up for failure. We cannot present an authentic witness to Jesus Christ without the Holy Spirit.
Who are the witnesses for the Church? Who affirms that we are indeed the resurrected body of Christ? If the Church is to be heard in this world, if the Gospel is to be preached to open ears, the Church must also have witnesses. Who speaks for the church today?
Unfortunately, the church’s witness to the world has not always been a positive one. Mahatma Gandhi followed the teachings of Jesus, but said he could never become a Christian because of the example of Christianity he had witnessed. Today, there are young people who will not even consider Christianity as an option because of the harsh message they hear coming from the Church.
But, we do have other examples in the history of the Church. One of these examples would be St. Lawrence, who was martyred in 258. He was the Archdeacon of Rome. His assignment was to maintaining the sacred vessels and disperse alms to the poor. Governor of Rome took Pope Sextus captive. He demanded to know, "Where are the treasures of the church?" When the Pope refused to give up the treasure, he was tortured to death. The Governor gave Lawrence the same demand. “Bring me the treasures of the Church. "Give me three days, and I will grant your demand," said Lawrence. When he returned threee days later, he was accompanied by crowd of the lame, blind, and deaf, the nobodies of society. “Here are the treasures of the church," proclaimed Lawrence.
If our message is to be heard, we need to proclaim it in both word and deed. If we are to be effective witnesses to Jesus Christ in today's world, we need witnesses that will say, "Yes, these people live the life that they profess."
We are called to be witnesses. May God grant that each of us might encounter the risen Christ, be empowered by the Holy Spirit, and show forth in our lives what we profess by our faith.
Alleluia, Christ is risen!
The disciples were called witnesses. What do you think of when you hear the word "witness"? I think of Perry Mason, one of my favorite shows as a kid. A good witness could steal the whole episode. What else leaps to mind? I have another image that springs to mind; from my childhood Pentecostal days, of witnessing on street corners. Sometimes it felt more like shoving Jesus down someone's throat if they wanted it or not. But we understood that's what Jesus called us to do.
And, to some degree, I think this approach is correct. I don’t think aggressive evangelism is very successful today, but if we really believe that we have found a way that gives meaning and purpose to our lives, it would seem that we would be bursting to share what we have found with those we encounter each day. We are called to be witnesses. But I'm not sure that street corners are the best place to find people who are open to the Gospel.
We are each being called to be witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Today, it is the church that keeps Jesus alive in our midst by becoming the risen body of Christ. Jesus the Christ has become known to us, through the witness of scripture, and through the witness of how Jesus Christ has touched our lives.
How has Jesus Christ touched your life? What are the particular things that you can proclaim as a witness for Christ?
Being a witness can be difficult. We don't know what to say, or when to say it, or when to stop. Don't feel bad. At first, right after the resurrection, the disciples didn't feel up to the job, and they weren’t. Jesus told them to wait, to not start being his witness yet. Jesus knew that though the disciples were full of enthusiasm and good intentions, when push came to shove, they were really only ordinary people. They were to wait, until they were filled with the Holy Spirit, until they were filled with the presence of the living God.
It is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit that allows the Church to become the body of Christ. When we try to run on our own power, or our own strength, we are setting ourselves up for failure. We cannot present an authentic witness to Jesus Christ without the Holy Spirit.
Who are the witnesses for the Church? Who affirms that we are indeed the resurrected body of Christ? If the Church is to be heard in this world, if the Gospel is to be preached to open ears, the Church must also have witnesses. Who speaks for the church today?
Unfortunately, the church’s witness to the world has not always been a positive one. Mahatma Gandhi followed the teachings of Jesus, but said he could never become a Christian because of the example of Christianity he had witnessed. Today, there are young people who will not even consider Christianity as an option because of the harsh message they hear coming from the Church.
But, we do have other examples in the history of the Church. One of these examples would be St. Lawrence, who was martyred in 258. He was the Archdeacon of Rome. His assignment was to maintaining the sacred vessels and disperse alms to the poor. Governor of Rome took Pope Sextus captive. He demanded to know, "Where are the treasures of the church?" When the Pope refused to give up the treasure, he was tortured to death. The Governor gave Lawrence the same demand. “Bring me the treasures of the Church. "Give me three days, and I will grant your demand," said Lawrence. When he returned threee days later, he was accompanied by crowd of the lame, blind, and deaf, the nobodies of society. “Here are the treasures of the church," proclaimed Lawrence.
If our message is to be heard, we need to proclaim it in both word and deed. If we are to be effective witnesses to Jesus Christ in today's world, we need witnesses that will say, "Yes, these people live the life that they profess."
We are called to be witnesses. May God grant that each of us might encounter the risen Christ, be empowered by the Holy Spirit, and show forth in our lives what we profess by our faith.
Alleluia, Christ is risen!
Monday, April 17, 2006
Easter, 2006
Easter 2006
Sometime between Friday and this morning, over 2000 years ago, something happened. We don’t know exactly what happened. All we have is the testimony of those who saw evidence of this “something” that first Easter morning. A wandering rabbi by the name of Jesus had been executed by the Romans for the crime of treason. They said he claimed to be king of the Jews.
Three days later, his tomb was found to be empty. Some of his followers told stories of seeing him alive. Throughout his small band of followers spread the message; “He is Risen!” At first, these followers weren’t sure what that meant exactly, except that one they loved, whose loss they had mourned, had somehow appeared once again in their midst.
Over time, this “something” that happened, this event, became the definitive moment in the faith tradition known as Christianity. Eventually it came to be understood to mean something like this; “through Jesus Christ, death, our ancient enemy, has been cast down and trampled underfoot.”
We are no longer held captive by our fear of death. That is a wonderful thing in and of itself, but is that it? Is that what Easter is all about? Not being afraid to die?
I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t seem to cover the myriad of emotions I feel when confronted with the story of the resurrection. I think overcoming fear is a big part of it, but I’m not sure it is simply overcoming the fear of dying.
In the Gospel account, the risen Christ tells the women, “Do not be afraid.” That’s all well and good for them. If I was able to see Jesus Christ, the son of the living God risen from the grave, I wouldn’t be afraid either!
With those in the Gospel story, we proclaim, “He is risen!” What do we mean by that? If he is risen, then where is he?
It’s time for my thunderstorm story again. A little boy was scared during a thunderstorm. His Mom tried to comfort. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “God will keep you safe.”
“But Mom!” the little boy cried. “Right now, I need a God with skin on!”
Sometimes we all need a God with skin on. In order for this idea, this concept of resurrection and immortality to not just float away, it needs to be concrete; it needs to put on some flesh.
One way of understanding a sacrament, an outward sign of an inward grace, is that these things, wine, bread, water, oil, words, people, in a sense become for us concrete ways that we can hold on to the lofty concepts that they represent. We understand Jesus to be the sacrament, the outward and visible sign, of God. We understand the Church to be the sacrament, the outward and visible sign, of Jesus Christ. We, those who are baptized and filled with the spirit of the living God, are the Church. Each one of us is a living sacrament. Each one of us can be God, with skin on for each other. We can represent the risen Christ to one another.
It isn’t always easy to see Christ in your neighbor. Sometimes it’s because your neighbor is a jerk. But most times, I think we cannot see Christ clearly in others because our own vision has become cloudy. How do we clear our vision?
Friday night I spoke to you about suffering and death, and suggested that sometimes we have to let something die in order to make room for the new thing God might be doing. Sometimes we have to let go of something that we have been clinging to desperately in order to see the risen Christ in our midst.
I spoke of the little pit bull that lives within me, and the need for me to let my old friend die. I mentioned that the reason that now is the time to finally let go of the attack dog inside of me that has kept me safe for so long was because I felt God doing something new within me, and this pit bull, with his growls and long teeth, was barring the way for this new thing.
What is this new thing? I promised you if you came back this morning I’d tell you about it. Now I’m not sure just how to describe it. It’s a particular way to view our relationship with God, and our relationship with each other. It’s not really that new, I suppose. It’s Christianity in its most basic form, actually. It seems that somewhere along the way, most likely while paying too much attention to the barking of my pit bull, I seem to have forgotten some of these basic themes.
I’m relearning this relational approach to God through the writings of one author. Right now, I’m allowing this writer to be God, with skin on, for me.
I’m not going to mention the name of the author who seems to be ushering in a new chapter in my own spiritual life, as some folks might be inclined to run out and buy his books. That would be a mistake. Most likely you would be disappointed. He’s not a great writer, and his ideas are not that novel. He speaks to me right now. I’m not sure he would speak to you.
This guy describes himself as an evangelic, catholic, poetic, biblical, charismatic, contemplative, anabaptist, calvinist, anglican, green, incarnational, depressed, unfinished Christian. I love it! He refuses to be put in a box. I’ve worn most of those labels at one time or another in my life, but the idea that I don’t have to take one off to put another one on is refreshing to me. It eliminates a lot of the internal arguments I have with my little pit bull.
He speaks of evangelism; proclaiming the Good News of God in Christ, as a dance! A dance…how wonderful. He talks about nature as God's artwork, God's text, showing us so much about the Creator.
He describes the tension between science and faith this way; “Science sought to explain the world without God, it produced a story without meaning. And Christians, trying to recast the gospel in the language of science and reason, produced a propositional belief system that lost touch with the story that gave it power. I am interested in seeing science and faith as collaborators.”
He reminds me that diversity is a good thing. “Life evolves to thrive in many different niches. The same should be true among Christians,” he says. "We need incredible diversity to fill many, many niches."
And most importantly, he speaks of Christianity as a relationship, not a set of beliefs. He calls for more conversations, and fewer debates.
The pit bull in me doesn’t like this guy. But right, now, he represents, for me, the whisperings of God.
How do I know that this author is right? I don’t. But when I close the book, and look around, I see evidence surrounding me of the truth of his words. And I see even more evidence for why the pit bull must be allowed to die. I want more conversations, more relationships, and the snarling attack dog within me is in the way.
If I am honest, the main reason I kept the pit bull around was because of my fears; fear of being rejected, fear of being wrong, fear of losing the debate, fear that God could not keep me safe. It’s time for me to hear my Risen Lord saying, “Do not be afraid!” It is time to place my faith in God, instead of an internal pit bull.
Christ is risen, and in our midst this morning. How do I know? Because I feel a new life emerging within me. Because I’ve encounter the risen Christ in the writings of a wonderful man. Because I see Christ being made manifest in the love Cherie offers me each day.
And, I know that my redeemer lives, because I see him in each one of you gathered here this morning.
Do not be afraid. He is risen. Alleluia!
Sometime between Friday and this morning, over 2000 years ago, something happened. We don’t know exactly what happened. All we have is the testimony of those who saw evidence of this “something” that first Easter morning. A wandering rabbi by the name of Jesus had been executed by the Romans for the crime of treason. They said he claimed to be king of the Jews.
Three days later, his tomb was found to be empty. Some of his followers told stories of seeing him alive. Throughout his small band of followers spread the message; “He is Risen!” At first, these followers weren’t sure what that meant exactly, except that one they loved, whose loss they had mourned, had somehow appeared once again in their midst.
Over time, this “something” that happened, this event, became the definitive moment in the faith tradition known as Christianity. Eventually it came to be understood to mean something like this; “through Jesus Christ, death, our ancient enemy, has been cast down and trampled underfoot.”
We are no longer held captive by our fear of death. That is a wonderful thing in and of itself, but is that it? Is that what Easter is all about? Not being afraid to die?
I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t seem to cover the myriad of emotions I feel when confronted with the story of the resurrection. I think overcoming fear is a big part of it, but I’m not sure it is simply overcoming the fear of dying.
In the Gospel account, the risen Christ tells the women, “Do not be afraid.” That’s all well and good for them. If I was able to see Jesus Christ, the son of the living God risen from the grave, I wouldn’t be afraid either!
With those in the Gospel story, we proclaim, “He is risen!” What do we mean by that? If he is risen, then where is he?
It’s time for my thunderstorm story again. A little boy was scared during a thunderstorm. His Mom tried to comfort. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “God will keep you safe.”
“But Mom!” the little boy cried. “Right now, I need a God with skin on!”
Sometimes we all need a God with skin on. In order for this idea, this concept of resurrection and immortality to not just float away, it needs to be concrete; it needs to put on some flesh.
One way of understanding a sacrament, an outward sign of an inward grace, is that these things, wine, bread, water, oil, words, people, in a sense become for us concrete ways that we can hold on to the lofty concepts that they represent. We understand Jesus to be the sacrament, the outward and visible sign, of God. We understand the Church to be the sacrament, the outward and visible sign, of Jesus Christ. We, those who are baptized and filled with the spirit of the living God, are the Church. Each one of us is a living sacrament. Each one of us can be God, with skin on for each other. We can represent the risen Christ to one another.
It isn’t always easy to see Christ in your neighbor. Sometimes it’s because your neighbor is a jerk. But most times, I think we cannot see Christ clearly in others because our own vision has become cloudy. How do we clear our vision?
Friday night I spoke to you about suffering and death, and suggested that sometimes we have to let something die in order to make room for the new thing God might be doing. Sometimes we have to let go of something that we have been clinging to desperately in order to see the risen Christ in our midst.
I spoke of the little pit bull that lives within me, and the need for me to let my old friend die. I mentioned that the reason that now is the time to finally let go of the attack dog inside of me that has kept me safe for so long was because I felt God doing something new within me, and this pit bull, with his growls and long teeth, was barring the way for this new thing.
What is this new thing? I promised you if you came back this morning I’d tell you about it. Now I’m not sure just how to describe it. It’s a particular way to view our relationship with God, and our relationship with each other. It’s not really that new, I suppose. It’s Christianity in its most basic form, actually. It seems that somewhere along the way, most likely while paying too much attention to the barking of my pit bull, I seem to have forgotten some of these basic themes.
I’m relearning this relational approach to God through the writings of one author. Right now, I’m allowing this writer to be God, with skin on, for me.
I’m not going to mention the name of the author who seems to be ushering in a new chapter in my own spiritual life, as some folks might be inclined to run out and buy his books. That would be a mistake. Most likely you would be disappointed. He’s not a great writer, and his ideas are not that novel. He speaks to me right now. I’m not sure he would speak to you.
This guy describes himself as an evangelic, catholic, poetic, biblical, charismatic, contemplative, anabaptist, calvinist, anglican, green, incarnational, depressed, unfinished Christian. I love it! He refuses to be put in a box. I’ve worn most of those labels at one time or another in my life, but the idea that I don’t have to take one off to put another one on is refreshing to me. It eliminates a lot of the internal arguments I have with my little pit bull.
He speaks of evangelism; proclaiming the Good News of God in Christ, as a dance! A dance…how wonderful. He talks about nature as God's artwork, God's text, showing us so much about the Creator.
He describes the tension between science and faith this way; “Science sought to explain the world without God, it produced a story without meaning. And Christians, trying to recast the gospel in the language of science and reason, produced a propositional belief system that lost touch with the story that gave it power. I am interested in seeing science and faith as collaborators.”
He reminds me that diversity is a good thing. “Life evolves to thrive in many different niches. The same should be true among Christians,” he says. "We need incredible diversity to fill many, many niches."
And most importantly, he speaks of Christianity as a relationship, not a set of beliefs. He calls for more conversations, and fewer debates.
The pit bull in me doesn’t like this guy. But right, now, he represents, for me, the whisperings of God.
How do I know that this author is right? I don’t. But when I close the book, and look around, I see evidence surrounding me of the truth of his words. And I see even more evidence for why the pit bull must be allowed to die. I want more conversations, more relationships, and the snarling attack dog within me is in the way.
If I am honest, the main reason I kept the pit bull around was because of my fears; fear of being rejected, fear of being wrong, fear of losing the debate, fear that God could not keep me safe. It’s time for me to hear my Risen Lord saying, “Do not be afraid!” It is time to place my faith in God, instead of an internal pit bull.
Christ is risen, and in our midst this morning. How do I know? Because I feel a new life emerging within me. Because I’ve encounter the risen Christ in the writings of a wonderful man. Because I see Christ being made manifest in the love Cherie offers me each day.
And, I know that my redeemer lives, because I see him in each one of you gathered here this morning.
Do not be afraid. He is risen. Alleluia!
Monday, April 03, 2006
April 3, 2006
In this morning’s Gospel, we hear of two resurrection appearances of Jesus. The Gospels were written to proclaim the Good News to all people. I think that these two resurrection stories are told so close together for a specific reason. They offer a witness to the ability of the resurrection to transform the lives of two very different kinds of people.
First, we have the disciples, minus Thomas, gathered behind a locked door, afraid that if anyone found them, what happened to Jesus would happen to them. They were afraid that they would become Act II, with matching crosses. So they were hiding,
Most of us can identify with this kind of fear. Fear of what might happen. Fear of what someone might do to us. Fear that something might happen to the children. Fear of the stranger. Fear of the unknown.
Our fear of the unknown can lead to our fear of change. If everything is orderly, everything is routine, then we believe we can be safe. Maybe we can, but I think we need to realize that this safety is often based on an illusion. Change is inevitable, no matter what we do.
There was a little boy who was learning to tie his shoes. When he finally mastered this skill, his mother praised him, telling him what a big boy he was now. Suddenly, the young child broke into tears. “What ‘s wrong?” his mother asked. “You should be so proud of yourself! Now you can tie your own shoes just like all the other kids.”
“But Mom!” the boy wailed, “now I’m going to have to do it myself for the rest of my life!”
William Auden once said;
We would rather be ruined than changed
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And see our illusions die.
Change is inevitable. And maybe we suspect we won’t like it. It’s hard to see our illusions die. But its going to happen anyway. And we have no crystal ball. The fear of the unknown lurking in the misty future is something that no amount of planning, no carefully structured routines, no locked doors or gated communities, can protect us from.
The change in the disciples from the Last Supper to this scene of them huddling in fear is quite dramatic. Jesus was dead, and their world had turned upside down. The future was now completely unknown; but from what they could guess, it was not a very bright.
Then, suddenly, Jesus appears to the disciples in the midst of their fear. He didn’t come to them to take away their fear, but to be present with them in the midst of it. Jesus brought them a word of peace, but not necessarily a word of safety. Most of the disciples went on to face violent deaths. The peace Jesus brought was a peace born of courage. This was a peace that sprung from them seeing who they really were and what they had been called to do.
The situation outside that room did not change. They were still being hunted as criminals. Everything they had been afraid of was still the same. The change happened inside the room; inside each one of them. Jesus said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” The spirit of the living God, dwelling within them, transformed these frightened men into messengers who boldly went out into the world proclaiming God’s love revealed through Jesus Christ.
That’s the story of the first resurrection appearance. Now let’s move on to the second one; the one starring Thomas.
Among every culture and every time in history, there are a few people who are unusual in that they seem to not react to fear the same way as the rest of us. Some of these people are the stuff of legends, the heroes of their generation. Their courage often draws us more timid souls to move beyond our fear, and to move forward into the unknown. I think Thomas was one of these types.
Notice that Thomas was not with the rest of the disciples hiding behind a locked door. He didn’t care if he got arrested. He wasn’t going to cower behind some locked door. He had things to do and people to see. He went on about his business.
You might recall earlier, during Jesus earthly ministry, there was a debate among Jesus and his disciples about returning to Judea, where the people had already tried to kill Jesus by stoning him.. Some of the disciples were afraid if they did, they all might be killed. But Jesus was insistent. Finally, Thomas spoke up saying, “Let us all go, that we may die with him.”
We can imagine that Thomas was a brave, no nonsense kind of guy. He was not afraid to face flying stones. After the crucifixion, he was not afraid of being arrested. But, as it is with some people with this kind of strong personality, he was a bit of a cynic. He is known by the label of “doubting Thomas.”
It does take a bit of courage to doubt, doesn’t it? Some people seem to be willing to believe anything, if such beliefs will help them feel safer. Sometimes, I think we are afraid to question some of our beliefs, as we are afraid that we might lose them; we are afraid of we dig too deep, we might somehow lose God. There is a danger of doubting so much that one becomes skeptical of everything. But, for the most part, I think that doubts can often be the springboard for spiritual growth.
The Thomas we meet in the Gospel has become quite the cynic. Here comes his friends, all excited about Jesus suddenly appearing to them. “Yea, right,” thinks Thomas. “The whole thing was a waste of time. We follow this carpenter around, and what happens? He is executed like a common criminal. And now these airheads show up with this bizarre story. They are in denial, big time. Face it fellows. He’s dead! It’s over! Go back to your homes, and get on with your lives!”
But they will not stop jabbering about this ghost they have seen. Finally, in frustration, Thomas shouts, “Look, here’s the deal; unless I can touch the wounds, unless You give me some kind of evidence that he is real, not some phantom projected out of your heads, I’m not buying it. Now leave me alone!”
But, his friends just keep on babbling about it, for all of the next week. Finally, desperate to shut them up, Thomas agrees to return with them to the room.
And Jesus does appear. And Thomas experiences the risen Christ. This strong, courageous cynic drops to his knees, proclaiming, “MY Lord and My God!”
Thomas was transformed that day, as the disciples had been a week before. The cynicism born from doubt was gone. His courage now became even greater. Some early traditions claim that Thomas carried the message of the Gospel as far as India.
I think we need to take to heart these two stories. We might be people bound by fear. Or we might be one of those courageous folk who have become a bit skeptical of those who lean on what we see as false hopes for protection. Regardless of what kind of person, or community, we are, Jesus stands in our midst, offering us peace, and the gift of the Holy Spirit. “Christ comes to Christians regardless of what their quality of life together may be.,” writes Herbert Driscoll. Christ’s unfailing love and unconquerable power penetrates all locked doors. Christ’s presence among us has nothing to do with our deserving his presence, or our willingness to receive it.
Easter sets us free of our fear, and of our bitter cynicism. We are strengthened through the Holy Spirit to affirm that the risen Christ is in our midst. We become bold enough to dare to see the face of the risen Christ in the person sitting next to us this morning. We are empowered to go forth from this place and proclaim that our savior lives, and offers us a life that is deathless and everlasting.
Jesus is saying to each of us today; “Take courage; for I have overcome the world!” This is the message we are called to offer all of humanity. We no longer have to hide in fear. We no longer have to live in bitter cynicism built on broken dreams. We have been given a new spirit, and a new vision, that goes beyond this world. We have been given the gift of God’s love. We have been given God’s spirit, making us the hands of the risen Christ in the world today. Let us proclaim this good news to the world with our every word and deed.
Alleluia Christ is risen!
First, we have the disciples, minus Thomas, gathered behind a locked door, afraid that if anyone found them, what happened to Jesus would happen to them. They were afraid that they would become Act II, with matching crosses. So they were hiding,
Most of us can identify with this kind of fear. Fear of what might happen. Fear of what someone might do to us. Fear that something might happen to the children. Fear of the stranger. Fear of the unknown.
Our fear of the unknown can lead to our fear of change. If everything is orderly, everything is routine, then we believe we can be safe. Maybe we can, but I think we need to realize that this safety is often based on an illusion. Change is inevitable, no matter what we do.
There was a little boy who was learning to tie his shoes. When he finally mastered this skill, his mother praised him, telling him what a big boy he was now. Suddenly, the young child broke into tears. “What ‘s wrong?” his mother asked. “You should be so proud of yourself! Now you can tie your own shoes just like all the other kids.”
“But Mom!” the boy wailed, “now I’m going to have to do it myself for the rest of my life!”
William Auden once said;
We would rather be ruined than changed
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And see our illusions die.
Change is inevitable. And maybe we suspect we won’t like it. It’s hard to see our illusions die. But its going to happen anyway. And we have no crystal ball. The fear of the unknown lurking in the misty future is something that no amount of planning, no carefully structured routines, no locked doors or gated communities, can protect us from.
The change in the disciples from the Last Supper to this scene of them huddling in fear is quite dramatic. Jesus was dead, and their world had turned upside down. The future was now completely unknown; but from what they could guess, it was not a very bright.
Then, suddenly, Jesus appears to the disciples in the midst of their fear. He didn’t come to them to take away their fear, but to be present with them in the midst of it. Jesus brought them a word of peace, but not necessarily a word of safety. Most of the disciples went on to face violent deaths. The peace Jesus brought was a peace born of courage. This was a peace that sprung from them seeing who they really were and what they had been called to do.
The situation outside that room did not change. They were still being hunted as criminals. Everything they had been afraid of was still the same. The change happened inside the room; inside each one of them. Jesus said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” The spirit of the living God, dwelling within them, transformed these frightened men into messengers who boldly went out into the world proclaiming God’s love revealed through Jesus Christ.
That’s the story of the first resurrection appearance. Now let’s move on to the second one; the one starring Thomas.
Among every culture and every time in history, there are a few people who are unusual in that they seem to not react to fear the same way as the rest of us. Some of these people are the stuff of legends, the heroes of their generation. Their courage often draws us more timid souls to move beyond our fear, and to move forward into the unknown. I think Thomas was one of these types.
Notice that Thomas was not with the rest of the disciples hiding behind a locked door. He didn’t care if he got arrested. He wasn’t going to cower behind some locked door. He had things to do and people to see. He went on about his business.
You might recall earlier, during Jesus earthly ministry, there was a debate among Jesus and his disciples about returning to Judea, where the people had already tried to kill Jesus by stoning him.. Some of the disciples were afraid if they did, they all might be killed. But Jesus was insistent. Finally, Thomas spoke up saying, “Let us all go, that we may die with him.”
We can imagine that Thomas was a brave, no nonsense kind of guy. He was not afraid to face flying stones. After the crucifixion, he was not afraid of being arrested. But, as it is with some people with this kind of strong personality, he was a bit of a cynic. He is known by the label of “doubting Thomas.”
It does take a bit of courage to doubt, doesn’t it? Some people seem to be willing to believe anything, if such beliefs will help them feel safer. Sometimes, I think we are afraid to question some of our beliefs, as we are afraid that we might lose them; we are afraid of we dig too deep, we might somehow lose God. There is a danger of doubting so much that one becomes skeptical of everything. But, for the most part, I think that doubts can often be the springboard for spiritual growth.
The Thomas we meet in the Gospel has become quite the cynic. Here comes his friends, all excited about Jesus suddenly appearing to them. “Yea, right,” thinks Thomas. “The whole thing was a waste of time. We follow this carpenter around, and what happens? He is executed like a common criminal. And now these airheads show up with this bizarre story. They are in denial, big time. Face it fellows. He’s dead! It’s over! Go back to your homes, and get on with your lives!”
But they will not stop jabbering about this ghost they have seen. Finally, in frustration, Thomas shouts, “Look, here’s the deal; unless I can touch the wounds, unless You give me some kind of evidence that he is real, not some phantom projected out of your heads, I’m not buying it. Now leave me alone!”
But, his friends just keep on babbling about it, for all of the next week. Finally, desperate to shut them up, Thomas agrees to return with them to the room.
And Jesus does appear. And Thomas experiences the risen Christ. This strong, courageous cynic drops to his knees, proclaiming, “MY Lord and My God!”
Thomas was transformed that day, as the disciples had been a week before. The cynicism born from doubt was gone. His courage now became even greater. Some early traditions claim that Thomas carried the message of the Gospel as far as India.
I think we need to take to heart these two stories. We might be people bound by fear. Or we might be one of those courageous folk who have become a bit skeptical of those who lean on what we see as false hopes for protection. Regardless of what kind of person, or community, we are, Jesus stands in our midst, offering us peace, and the gift of the Holy Spirit. “Christ comes to Christians regardless of what their quality of life together may be.,” writes Herbert Driscoll. Christ’s unfailing love and unconquerable power penetrates all locked doors. Christ’s presence among us has nothing to do with our deserving his presence, or our willingness to receive it.
Easter sets us free of our fear, and of our bitter cynicism. We are strengthened through the Holy Spirit to affirm that the risen Christ is in our midst. We become bold enough to dare to see the face of the risen Christ in the person sitting next to us this morning. We are empowered to go forth from this place and proclaim that our savior lives, and offers us a life that is deathless and everlasting.
Jesus is saying to each of us today; “Take courage; for I have overcome the world!” This is the message we are called to offer all of humanity. We no longer have to hide in fear. We no longer have to live in bitter cynicism built on broken dreams. We have been given a new spirit, and a new vision, that goes beyond this world. We have been given the gift of God’s love. We have been given God’s spirit, making us the hands of the risen Christ in the world today. Let us proclaim this good news to the world with our every word and deed.
Alleluia Christ is risen!
Sunday, March 05, 2006
March 5, 2006
"Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan ... And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan" (Mark 1:9-13).
I have lots of problems with this passage. First of all, it seems to have things a bit backwards. Jesus is baptized, claimed as a member of the household of God, and then goes through a period of preparation or purification.
Shouldn't the preparations be made first, and then the baptism? Before an adult is baptized, they prepare themselves. Before we receive communion, we prepare ourselves. Before ordination, the ordinand traditionally makes a retreat.
Just possibly, we have it backwards.
Maybe we need to remind ourselves that there is nothing we can do to earn the sacraments. We cannot earn the right to Holy Baptism, Holy Communion or ordination. These are free gifts of grace offer by God through God's Church. They are given freely. But we do need to keep in mind that the sacraments are a means by which we receive God's grace, and once God's grace gets involved, things are going to change in our lives. Maybe we need a retreat after we have acknowledged the reception of God's gift of grace. Maybe that's when we need to stare in the face the new thing that God has done in our lives.
Jesus is driven by the Spirit into the wilderness. He didn't go by his own volition. The Spirit of God drove him, forced him, to undergo this forty day fast. Such aggressiveness on the part of God makes me nervous. What do we do with that? It appears that God was still preparing Jesus, and time was of the essence. Jesus had more to learn before he would be ready for his ministry.
Seminary was not the wonderful experience I had expected it to be. There is a point when almost every seminarian has a crisis of faith. Most seminaries won't admit it, but I think that its built into the process. The seminaries want their students to face their own doubts, fears, and inadequacies while still in school, and not while serving in their first parish. At times, seminary did seem like being driven into the wilderness by God. I didn't like it, but I wouldn't give up my seminary years for anything. Sometimes, God can be rather insistent, whether we like it or not!
Jesus is driven out into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan. If God drove him out there, then Satan is functioning as an agent of God. This is what we also see in the book of Job. Somehow, we have to get a handle on the reality that Satan has to be under God's authority. This brings up lots of problems with evil in the world, but that's another message. This passage refutes the idea that there are two powers fighting it out somewhere, and that there is some danger that God might lose this bout of cosmic fisticuffs! There is only one God of all.
The season of Lent, the forty days preceding Easter, is a call for each of us to enter the wilderness. The wilderness is a frightening place. We have no map. We don't know what we'll encounter. But we are driven into our own wildernesses just the same.
God calls us to enter those strange places in our lives, the places we avoid. God calls us to look into our hearts, and seek out those unexplored wildernesses, and begin to learn who we really are.
Lent is a time to expand our horizons, by charting the unknown wildernesses in our lives. We are called to stretch our understanding of God, and to try on new ways of responding to God. Lent is a time to enter the wilderness within our relationships as well. It is a time to seek reconciliation with those from whom we have been cut off for much too long.
God is pushing us out of our nice, comfortable lives into the unknown of the wilderness. Let us look at those dark places within our hearts, and allow God to heal them and bring them into the light. Let us allow God to stretch us in the wilderness and reveal new ways to respond to God's love with acts of mercy. Let us enter the wilderness with joy, knowing that we will emerge with a heart no longer hardened, but a heart desiring reconciliation with God and one another.
I have lots of problems with this passage. First of all, it seems to have things a bit backwards. Jesus is baptized, claimed as a member of the household of God, and then goes through a period of preparation or purification.
Shouldn't the preparations be made first, and then the baptism? Before an adult is baptized, they prepare themselves. Before we receive communion, we prepare ourselves. Before ordination, the ordinand traditionally makes a retreat.
Just possibly, we have it backwards.
Maybe we need to remind ourselves that there is nothing we can do to earn the sacraments. We cannot earn the right to Holy Baptism, Holy Communion or ordination. These are free gifts of grace offer by God through God's Church. They are given freely. But we do need to keep in mind that the sacraments are a means by which we receive God's grace, and once God's grace gets involved, things are going to change in our lives. Maybe we need a retreat after we have acknowledged the reception of God's gift of grace. Maybe that's when we need to stare in the face the new thing that God has done in our lives.
Jesus is driven by the Spirit into the wilderness. He didn't go by his own volition. The Spirit of God drove him, forced him, to undergo this forty day fast. Such aggressiveness on the part of God makes me nervous. What do we do with that? It appears that God was still preparing Jesus, and time was of the essence. Jesus had more to learn before he would be ready for his ministry.
Seminary was not the wonderful experience I had expected it to be. There is a point when almost every seminarian has a crisis of faith. Most seminaries won't admit it, but I think that its built into the process. The seminaries want their students to face their own doubts, fears, and inadequacies while still in school, and not while serving in their first parish. At times, seminary did seem like being driven into the wilderness by God. I didn't like it, but I wouldn't give up my seminary years for anything. Sometimes, God can be rather insistent, whether we like it or not!
Jesus is driven out into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan. If God drove him out there, then Satan is functioning as an agent of God. This is what we also see in the book of Job. Somehow, we have to get a handle on the reality that Satan has to be under God's authority. This brings up lots of problems with evil in the world, but that's another message. This passage refutes the idea that there are two powers fighting it out somewhere, and that there is some danger that God might lose this bout of cosmic fisticuffs! There is only one God of all.
The season of Lent, the forty days preceding Easter, is a call for each of us to enter the wilderness. The wilderness is a frightening place. We have no map. We don't know what we'll encounter. But we are driven into our own wildernesses just the same.
God calls us to enter those strange places in our lives, the places we avoid. God calls us to look into our hearts, and seek out those unexplored wildernesses, and begin to learn who we really are.
Lent is a time to expand our horizons, by charting the unknown wildernesses in our lives. We are called to stretch our understanding of God, and to try on new ways of responding to God. Lent is a time to enter the wilderness within our relationships as well. It is a time to seek reconciliation with those from whom we have been cut off for much too long.
God is pushing us out of our nice, comfortable lives into the unknown of the wilderness. Let us look at those dark places within our hearts, and allow God to heal them and bring them into the light. Let us allow God to stretch us in the wilderness and reveal new ways to respond to God's love with acts of mercy. Let us enter the wilderness with joy, knowing that we will emerge with a heart no longer hardened, but a heart desiring reconciliation with God and one another.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
February 26, 2006
Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings..."
You gotta love Peter. He is so...well...human! Faced with a wondrous mystical experience on the mountaintop, he sees no reason to let it end.
That's how it is with mountaintop experiences. The euphoria is so intense, we never want it to stop.
But most of us don't live on the mountain. Eventually, we have to return to the valley.
For many people in this world, there are few if any mountaintop experiences in their lives. If the Transfiguration is the definitive mountaintop experience, probably most of us don't have much of a mountaintop to climb down from.
Walter Wink and Marcus Borg, among others, have tried to point out that the way we often think about god really doesn’t work if we are honest. It depicts a transcendent God who occasionally intervenes in human affairs. They suggest a God who, as Wordsworth would put it, "rolls through all things."
The difficulty in separating experience into categories of "supernatural" and "natural", or mountaintop and valley, is that it encourages us to believe that God is only encountered in the unusual, the miraculous, the spectacular. The natural world is seen as mundane, or even profane.
The movement of God is always from one moment of glory to the next moment of glory. We might split things up as natural or supernatural, secular or sacred, mundane or momentous, but our perception is not necessarily the reality. We are called to move from faith, to faith, trusting that God is in our midst, moving all around us and through us; transforming all of creation.
Those fishermen on the mountain with Jesus saw this glory, and their eyes were opened. If we open our eyes, maybe we might also? Of course, we may have to redefine what we consider glorious and sacred.
What might be often considered mundane, but might also be considered full of awe and wonder?
Watching the sun rise...amazing!
Beautiful music...awesome!
A child snuggling close...glorious!
Fresh fallen snow...beautiful!
Reconciling an argument...peace!
Quiet prayer...refreshing!
Once we begin to look for God's glory, we find it all around us. It's a matter of perspective.
Beyond the glory we stumble across in our daily routines, we can also be co-creators with God, by transforming our environment.
Recently I came across an article by James McGinnis entitled Households of Faith. He tells about taking each of his young children to a large park, and encouraging them to pick out their own special prayer place. For the next years, as the children grew up, one of their parents would take them to their prayer place the day before any special religious commemorations, such as first communion or confirmation, so that together they could prayerfully reflect on the upcoming event. What a wonderful example of creating a mountaintop experience!
I still say that we need to live in the valley, to serve those who know nothing of the mountaintop. But, if we are to be of service, we need to have something to offer; which may require us to redefine the mountaintop.
It just may be that we may encounter the glory of God in the face of those we serve, if we look carefully, and listen closely.
You gotta love Peter. He is so...well...human! Faced with a wondrous mystical experience on the mountaintop, he sees no reason to let it end.
That's how it is with mountaintop experiences. The euphoria is so intense, we never want it to stop.
But most of us don't live on the mountain. Eventually, we have to return to the valley.
For many people in this world, there are few if any mountaintop experiences in their lives. If the Transfiguration is the definitive mountaintop experience, probably most of us don't have much of a mountaintop to climb down from.
Walter Wink and Marcus Borg, among others, have tried to point out that the way we often think about god really doesn’t work if we are honest. It depicts a transcendent God who occasionally intervenes in human affairs. They suggest a God who, as Wordsworth would put it, "rolls through all things."
The difficulty in separating experience into categories of "supernatural" and "natural", or mountaintop and valley, is that it encourages us to believe that God is only encountered in the unusual, the miraculous, the spectacular. The natural world is seen as mundane, or even profane.
The movement of God is always from one moment of glory to the next moment of glory. We might split things up as natural or supernatural, secular or sacred, mundane or momentous, but our perception is not necessarily the reality. We are called to move from faith, to faith, trusting that God is in our midst, moving all around us and through us; transforming all of creation.
Those fishermen on the mountain with Jesus saw this glory, and their eyes were opened. If we open our eyes, maybe we might also? Of course, we may have to redefine what we consider glorious and sacred.
What might be often considered mundane, but might also be considered full of awe and wonder?
Watching the sun rise...amazing!
Beautiful music...awesome!
A child snuggling close...glorious!
Fresh fallen snow...beautiful!
Reconciling an argument...peace!
Quiet prayer...refreshing!
Once we begin to look for God's glory, we find it all around us. It's a matter of perspective.
Beyond the glory we stumble across in our daily routines, we can also be co-creators with God, by transforming our environment.
Recently I came across an article by James McGinnis entitled Households of Faith. He tells about taking each of his young children to a large park, and encouraging them to pick out their own special prayer place. For the next years, as the children grew up, one of their parents would take them to their prayer place the day before any special religious commemorations, such as first communion or confirmation, so that together they could prayerfully reflect on the upcoming event. What a wonderful example of creating a mountaintop experience!
I still say that we need to live in the valley, to serve those who know nothing of the mountaintop. But, if we are to be of service, we need to have something to offer; which may require us to redefine the mountaintop.
It just may be that we may encounter the glory of God in the face of those we serve, if we look carefully, and listen closely.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
February 19, 2006
February 19.2006
This morning I want to invite us to hear the message from this morning’s Gospel by considering the story from four different perspectives.
First, let’s consider the paralytic man who was healed. Being paralyzed, there wasn’t much he could do to help himself, was there? So, he asked his friends for help. Asking for help is not always easy to do. It means swallowing our pride. “Pride,” says the writer of Proverbs, “goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). We want everyone to think we’ve got it all together. We don’t want to admit we can’t make it on our own. And so we suffer in silence, out of prideful ness.
In the United States, 33.6 million people including almost 13 million children live in households that experience hunger or the risk of hunger. This represents approximately one in ten households.(10.7 percent).
In America, it is a shameful thing to be poor. It means that you have failed to live up to the American dream. To admit you need help means that you are somehow flawed. Consequently, many of those who are suffering from poverty try to say invisible. They don’t ask for help.
We may all have enough food, but I would imagine that there are some of us here today that need help of some kind, but don’t ask for it, because of their pride. Here is the lesson for us from the perspective of the paralytic man; if you want help; if you want God’s healing, you have to humble yourself enough to ask for help.
The next perspective I want us to consider is the friends who lowered this man through the roof so that he could be healed by Jesus. These are some pretty creative friends. When they see the huge crowd filling Jesus house, they didn’t give up on their promise to help their friend. They got creative, and got the job done.
A couple of weeks ago, I talked to you about an effective form of evangelism based on the saying, “Make a friend, be a friend, bring a friend to Christ.” This story is a literal picture image of how to do this kind of evangelism. When we commit to befriending someone, we don’t give up when things get difficult. We stick with the, we be a real friend. And we never forget that in the end, we cannot offer them the help, the healing that they seek. We bring our friend to Christ.
Next, let’s consider the perspective of the crowd watching this man being lowered from the roof. I would imagine that some of the crowd were not that pleased. Here they had stood in line, pushed and almost trampled by the crowd, in hopes of getting near enough to Jesus to receive his healing touch. And this guy cuts right in. It’s not fair. He cheated! Why should he get healed, when I’m the one whose been waiting in this crush of flesh for hours!
Life isn’t fair all the time, is it? And sometimes God doesn’t seem fair. The wind of the Spirit blows where it will. We don’t see the big picture, so we may never know why this person is touched by God an another is not. But, if we give in to feelings of resentment and envy, one thing is assured; we will have moved farther away from God. When another is blessed by god, rejoice with them, and give testimony to others of the mighty acts of God.
And finally, let’s consider the scribes. They are not pleased that Jesus had the audacity to declare the forgiveness of sins without all the ritual their tradition required. Once again, the wind of the Spirit blows where it will. And yes, especially on this point, I am preaching to myself. We must be careful not to limit our experience of God by trying to put God in a box. Our ways are not God’s ways. If you want to know if something is of God, consider the fruit of the work. The man was healed. The healing offered by Jesus was obviously of God. Instead of rejoicing, the scribes are complaining that Jesus didn’t use the right liturgy! Don’t let your pride block your view of God moving among us, loving us, and healing us.
Ask for help. Be a helper. Bring the wounded to God. Rejoice in the good fortune of others. And be open to experiencing the healing of God in unexpected places.
This morning I want to invite us to hear the message from this morning’s Gospel by considering the story from four different perspectives.
First, let’s consider the paralytic man who was healed. Being paralyzed, there wasn’t much he could do to help himself, was there? So, he asked his friends for help. Asking for help is not always easy to do. It means swallowing our pride. “Pride,” says the writer of Proverbs, “goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). We want everyone to think we’ve got it all together. We don’t want to admit we can’t make it on our own. And so we suffer in silence, out of prideful ness.
In the United States, 33.6 million people including almost 13 million children live in households that experience hunger or the risk of hunger. This represents approximately one in ten households.(10.7 percent).
In America, it is a shameful thing to be poor. It means that you have failed to live up to the American dream. To admit you need help means that you are somehow flawed. Consequently, many of those who are suffering from poverty try to say invisible. They don’t ask for help.
We may all have enough food, but I would imagine that there are some of us here today that need help of some kind, but don’t ask for it, because of their pride. Here is the lesson for us from the perspective of the paralytic man; if you want help; if you want God’s healing, you have to humble yourself enough to ask for help.
The next perspective I want us to consider is the friends who lowered this man through the roof so that he could be healed by Jesus. These are some pretty creative friends. When they see the huge crowd filling Jesus house, they didn’t give up on their promise to help their friend. They got creative, and got the job done.
A couple of weeks ago, I talked to you about an effective form of evangelism based on the saying, “Make a friend, be a friend, bring a friend to Christ.” This story is a literal picture image of how to do this kind of evangelism. When we commit to befriending someone, we don’t give up when things get difficult. We stick with the, we be a real friend. And we never forget that in the end, we cannot offer them the help, the healing that they seek. We bring our friend to Christ.
Next, let’s consider the perspective of the crowd watching this man being lowered from the roof. I would imagine that some of the crowd were not that pleased. Here they had stood in line, pushed and almost trampled by the crowd, in hopes of getting near enough to Jesus to receive his healing touch. And this guy cuts right in. It’s not fair. He cheated! Why should he get healed, when I’m the one whose been waiting in this crush of flesh for hours!
Life isn’t fair all the time, is it? And sometimes God doesn’t seem fair. The wind of the Spirit blows where it will. We don’t see the big picture, so we may never know why this person is touched by God an another is not. But, if we give in to feelings of resentment and envy, one thing is assured; we will have moved farther away from God. When another is blessed by god, rejoice with them, and give testimony to others of the mighty acts of God.
And finally, let’s consider the scribes. They are not pleased that Jesus had the audacity to declare the forgiveness of sins without all the ritual their tradition required. Once again, the wind of the Spirit blows where it will. And yes, especially on this point, I am preaching to myself. We must be careful not to limit our experience of God by trying to put God in a box. Our ways are not God’s ways. If you want to know if something is of God, consider the fruit of the work. The man was healed. The healing offered by Jesus was obviously of God. Instead of rejoicing, the scribes are complaining that Jesus didn’t use the right liturgy! Don’t let your pride block your view of God moving among us, loving us, and healing us.
Ask for help. Be a helper. Bring the wounded to God. Rejoice in the good fortune of others. And be open to experiencing the healing of God in unexpected places.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
February 5, 2006
February 5, 2006
In this morning’s epistle, St. Paul writes to the church in Corinth these words;
“I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”
For the Jew, he becomes a Jew. For the Gentile, he becomes a Gentile. This flexibility, this ability to meet the other person where they are in their spiritual life, and avoid the temptation to drag them to where we think they should be, is the Christian ideal when it comes to evangelism. Unfortunately, that’s often not what happens in the world today.
There’s a story about a man walking across a bridge one day. He saw another man standing on the edge, about to jump off. He immediately ran over and said "Stop! Don't do it!"
"Why shouldn't I?" he said.
The first man said, "Well, there's so much to live for!"
"Like what?"
"Well ... are you religious or atheist?"
"Religious."
"Me too! Are you Christian or Jewish?"
"Christian."
"Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?"
"Protestant."
"Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?"
"Baptist."
"Wow! Me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?"
"Baptist Church of God."
"Me too! Are you Original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?"
"Reformed Baptist Church of God."
"Me too! Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?"
"Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!"
To which the first man said, "Die, heretic scum!" and pushed him off the bridge.
What an sad witness such an attitude offers the world of what it means to be a Christian! What is even more sad is that often this same approach is how some Christians respond to those who are not Christian.
We are facing a new world today. The way we understood Christianity during to 50s and 60s will simply not do today. Since the 70s, many people have simply dropped out of the church. Their children, and their grandchildren, have no idea of what the bible or Christianity is all about, except what they see on the TV. At least two generations are unchurched today. The majority of Europeans have no connection to any organized religion. We live in a different world, a world that requires new approaches to evangelism, the ways in which we proclaim to the world the Good News of Jesus Christ.
When looking for new ways to witness to others, Paul’s words give us some good guidance. Our response to those who do not know Jesus must be more flexible. For the weak, we appear weak; to the strong, we are strong.
Loren Meade of the Alban Institute has looked more closely into the difficulties in our approach to modern day evangelism.
In one of his presentations, “The Once and Future Church”, Mead breaks down the history of Christendom into three eras; the Apostolic, the Christian, and the Emerging. He identifies three different environments in which each era existed. During the Apostolic era, the environment was hostile to the message of the Gospel. During the Christian era (which lasted through most of the 20th century), the environment was primarily Christian, as that was the dominant world view. In the Emerging era, the external environment is, at best, ambiguous to the message.
Some of us have witnessed this shift from the Christian to the Emerging era in our own lifetime. Here's just a few of the indicators;
In the Christian era, all of society was understood to be religious. In the Emerging era, society is often not religious at all.
In the Christian era, most public institutions were permeated with religious values. In the Emerging era, most public activities have no reference to religion.
In the Christian era, most people were expected to be members of a church. It was almost considered un-American not to be. In the Emerging era, church is for religious people, not ordinary people.
In the Christian era, religion was very public. In the Emerging era, religion is private, irrelevant, or optional.
In the Christian era, almost everyone is acquainted with the biblical story. In the Emerging era, few people know anything about the bible.
I think much of the Church is in denial of this reality. The energy seems to be drawn towards trying to recapture the glory days; to turn back the clock. In the meantime, God has continued to work in the world, but not always in the same ways as the Church has perceived the movement of God in the past.
The apostolic mission of the Church has to be rethought; no longer can the mission of the Church be primary. It has to give way to the mission of God, which can often be discovered outside the traditional boundaries of what we understand to be "church" or "religion."
Our mission of proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ is hindered when we understand that to mean we are taking something out into the world that does not already exist; that our message is the most important one. That blocks our ability to see what God might already be doing in the life of someone else. When we insist on others accepting our understanding of God, and use the bible as a weapon to beat them into submission, we turn them away from Christ with our arrogant manner.
The world has changed. Today, we are called to meet people where they are in their spiritual life, and not drag them to where we think they should be. We listen to their story, offer our story, and look for the places that God's story intersects them both.
This doesn't dismiss the need for a catechumenate process, continuing education, amendment of life and spiritual disciplines. Those are elements that will gradually become meaningful to a person who is nurtured into developing a relationship with Jesus Christ. To demand it all from the beginning is blocking the way into the kingdom for others. It seems to me this is the error that Jesus saw within the Pharisees. Are we doomed to continue to make the same mistakes over and over again?
So how do we do evangelism today? There’s a saying in the Cursillo movement that might be good for us to keep in mind. Make a friend, be a friend, bring a friend to Christ. We begin our witness through our actions; being a real friend to someone else in their time of need. Through our lives, we testify that we are different, that Christ has made a difference in us. Eventually, if we have been a good friend, the other person will ask about this difference. That is our opportunity to tell them about how your relationship with God has transformed your life. Make a friend, be a friend, bring a friend to Christ.
In this morning’s epistle, St. Paul writes to the church in Corinth these words;
“I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”
For the Jew, he becomes a Jew. For the Gentile, he becomes a Gentile. This flexibility, this ability to meet the other person where they are in their spiritual life, and avoid the temptation to drag them to where we think they should be, is the Christian ideal when it comes to evangelism. Unfortunately, that’s often not what happens in the world today.
There’s a story about a man walking across a bridge one day. He saw another man standing on the edge, about to jump off. He immediately ran over and said "Stop! Don't do it!"
"Why shouldn't I?" he said.
The first man said, "Well, there's so much to live for!"
"Like what?"
"Well ... are you religious or atheist?"
"Religious."
"Me too! Are you Christian or Jewish?"
"Christian."
"Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?"
"Protestant."
"Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?"
"Baptist."
"Wow! Me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?"
"Baptist Church of God."
"Me too! Are you Original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?"
"Reformed Baptist Church of God."
"Me too! Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?"
"Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!"
To which the first man said, "Die, heretic scum!" and pushed him off the bridge.
What an sad witness such an attitude offers the world of what it means to be a Christian! What is even more sad is that often this same approach is how some Christians respond to those who are not Christian.
We are facing a new world today. The way we understood Christianity during to 50s and 60s will simply not do today. Since the 70s, many people have simply dropped out of the church. Their children, and their grandchildren, have no idea of what the bible or Christianity is all about, except what they see on the TV. At least two generations are unchurched today. The majority of Europeans have no connection to any organized religion. We live in a different world, a world that requires new approaches to evangelism, the ways in which we proclaim to the world the Good News of Jesus Christ.
When looking for new ways to witness to others, Paul’s words give us some good guidance. Our response to those who do not know Jesus must be more flexible. For the weak, we appear weak; to the strong, we are strong.
Loren Meade of the Alban Institute has looked more closely into the difficulties in our approach to modern day evangelism.
In one of his presentations, “The Once and Future Church”, Mead breaks down the history of Christendom into three eras; the Apostolic, the Christian, and the Emerging. He identifies three different environments in which each era existed. During the Apostolic era, the environment was hostile to the message of the Gospel. During the Christian era (which lasted through most of the 20th century), the environment was primarily Christian, as that was the dominant world view. In the Emerging era, the external environment is, at best, ambiguous to the message.
Some of us have witnessed this shift from the Christian to the Emerging era in our own lifetime. Here's just a few of the indicators;
In the Christian era, all of society was understood to be religious. In the Emerging era, society is often not religious at all.
In the Christian era, most public institutions were permeated with religious values. In the Emerging era, most public activities have no reference to religion.
In the Christian era, most people were expected to be members of a church. It was almost considered un-American not to be. In the Emerging era, church is for religious people, not ordinary people.
In the Christian era, religion was very public. In the Emerging era, religion is private, irrelevant, or optional.
In the Christian era, almost everyone is acquainted with the biblical story. In the Emerging era, few people know anything about the bible.
I think much of the Church is in denial of this reality. The energy seems to be drawn towards trying to recapture the glory days; to turn back the clock. In the meantime, God has continued to work in the world, but not always in the same ways as the Church has perceived the movement of God in the past.
The apostolic mission of the Church has to be rethought; no longer can the mission of the Church be primary. It has to give way to the mission of God, which can often be discovered outside the traditional boundaries of what we understand to be "church" or "religion."
Our mission of proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ is hindered when we understand that to mean we are taking something out into the world that does not already exist; that our message is the most important one. That blocks our ability to see what God might already be doing in the life of someone else. When we insist on others accepting our understanding of God, and use the bible as a weapon to beat them into submission, we turn them away from Christ with our arrogant manner.
The world has changed. Today, we are called to meet people where they are in their spiritual life, and not drag them to where we think they should be. We listen to their story, offer our story, and look for the places that God's story intersects them both.
This doesn't dismiss the need for a catechumenate process, continuing education, amendment of life and spiritual disciplines. Those are elements that will gradually become meaningful to a person who is nurtured into developing a relationship with Jesus Christ. To demand it all from the beginning is blocking the way into the kingdom for others. It seems to me this is the error that Jesus saw within the Pharisees. Are we doomed to continue to make the same mistakes over and over again?
So how do we do evangelism today? There’s a saying in the Cursillo movement that might be good for us to keep in mind. Make a friend, be a friend, bring a friend to Christ. We begin our witness through our actions; being a real friend to someone else in their time of need. Through our lives, we testify that we are different, that Christ has made a difference in us. Eventually, if we have been a good friend, the other person will ask about this difference. That is our opportunity to tell them about how your relationship with God has transformed your life. Make a friend, be a friend, bring a friend to Christ.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
January 29, 2006
Jesus teaches at the synagogue in Capernaum, and the people are amazed because he teaches with authority, not like the scribes. He then heals a man with an unclean spirit, and Jesus’ authority is confirmed.
We’re not told what Jesus taught in the synagogue that day. We don’t know what it was that initially signaled to the people that Jesus was a person with authority.
Let’s consider some ways that Jesus might have signaled to the people in the synagogue that he had authority.
Maybe he expressed his authority by talking very loud. Haven’t you met people like this? I served a bishop who used to signal that all discussion was over by increasing the volume of his voice. Some people attempt to win an argument through increasing the volume, don’t they? Usually, the weaker their argument, the louder these folks tend to get. But, I doubt if Jesus convinced the crowd in Capernaum of his authority by getting in a shouting match.
Or maybe Jesus did a bit of name dropping. We’ve probably all met people who use this technique to convince us they’re important. And, yes, this method also shows up in the church. Among the clergy, the biggest give away is when someone refers to the bishop by his first name. “I was talking to George the other day, and I told him…” Most folks are not too impressed by this method. Of course, Jesus had a pretty good name to drop…”I was chatting with God Almighty, creator of heaven and Earth the other day…” but I doubt if Jesus did that either.
Or, maybe Jesus impressed the people in that synagogue with his credentials. Those with graduate degrees often like to put lots of letters after their name on their business cards, in an attempt to let folks know that they are educated people. I used to put M.Div. after my name…master of divinity, but no one ever knew what it meant, so eventually I dropped it. If I was a doctor, and could put MD after my name nurse, or a nurse with a RN suffix, I might still do it. Imagine Jesus’ business card; Jesus the Christ, SOG. Now that would be impressive!
But, I doubt if Jesus used any of these methods to convince the Capernaum crowd that he was a person of authority.
Most likely, what Jesus used was a blend of four sources of authority;
The bible. Jesus knew the Hebrew bible well. He quoted it often. Some would say that the bible, the Hebrew Scriptures and the Christian New Testament, should be our only authority. And, on many issues, that is true. Certainly on all essential things, all things necessary for our salvation, we need to accept the authority of the bible.
But then there’s all those other things in the bible that just aren’t very clear. The way the many Christian denominations differ is evidence that we all don’t interpret the bible to be saying the same thing. Some say that we should baptize babies. Others say we should only baptize adults. Some say a priest shouldn’t get married. Some denominations never allow instrumental music. All based on their understanding of the bible. Each denomination pile verse upon verse from the bible to prove that their way of being the church is the one that is “true to scripture.”
This is what the scribes of Jesus time did. They used biblical texts and saying from the rabbis to make complex rules that usually only they could understand. This morning’s Gospel tells us that Jesus teaching was not like that of the scribes. It appears that quoting bible passages was not the only way that Jesus expressed his authority.
Maybe Jesus taught with authority by revealing to that crowd God’s Holy Spirit. The Spirit of God dwelled within Jesus. He often expanded on the meaning of the scriptures. “And you have heard it said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy,' but I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Such inspiration would have to be seen as a manifestation of God’s Holy Spirit.
Or maybe it was Jesus’ use of reason that made his authority so obvious. Unlike the scribes, Jesus often used home grown stories that made sense to the people to make his points. They understood him, and heard the wisdom in his words.
Or maybe Jesus’ teaching passed the test of experience. Our past experience is certainly an authority for most of us. We know something to be true because we have tested it through experience. Jesus’ words rang true because those who heard them had experienced that truth.
Today, we can look for these same sources of authority to inform us on our spiritual journey. But I think we need all four. If we lean on the bible alone, we begin to treat the bible like an idol. If we depend just on the Holy Spirit, we might fall into the error of emotionalism. If we just use reason, we will fall into the maze called philosophy. And experience by itself is nothing more than humanism.
But, when combined, we can depend on scripture, the Holy Spirit, reason and experience to reveal to us what is true and good. When kept in balance, we can use these tools to discover the will of God.
Jesus granted us his authority here on earth. We are called to be the teachers and healers in the world today. Let us go out into the world, and use the tools God has given us; scripture, the Holy Spirit, reason and experience, to proclaim to this world the Good News of God’s redemptive love.
We’re not told what Jesus taught in the synagogue that day. We don’t know what it was that initially signaled to the people that Jesus was a person with authority.
Let’s consider some ways that Jesus might have signaled to the people in the synagogue that he had authority.
Maybe he expressed his authority by talking very loud. Haven’t you met people like this? I served a bishop who used to signal that all discussion was over by increasing the volume of his voice. Some people attempt to win an argument through increasing the volume, don’t they? Usually, the weaker their argument, the louder these folks tend to get. But, I doubt if Jesus convinced the crowd in Capernaum of his authority by getting in a shouting match.
Or maybe Jesus did a bit of name dropping. We’ve probably all met people who use this technique to convince us they’re important. And, yes, this method also shows up in the church. Among the clergy, the biggest give away is when someone refers to the bishop by his first name. “I was talking to George the other day, and I told him…” Most folks are not too impressed by this method. Of course, Jesus had a pretty good name to drop…”I was chatting with God Almighty, creator of heaven and Earth the other day…” but I doubt if Jesus did that either.
Or, maybe Jesus impressed the people in that synagogue with his credentials. Those with graduate degrees often like to put lots of letters after their name on their business cards, in an attempt to let folks know that they are educated people. I used to put M.Div. after my name…master of divinity, but no one ever knew what it meant, so eventually I dropped it. If I was a doctor, and could put MD after my name nurse, or a nurse with a RN suffix, I might still do it. Imagine Jesus’ business card; Jesus the Christ, SOG. Now that would be impressive!
But, I doubt if Jesus used any of these methods to convince the Capernaum crowd that he was a person of authority.
Most likely, what Jesus used was a blend of four sources of authority;
The bible. Jesus knew the Hebrew bible well. He quoted it often. Some would say that the bible, the Hebrew Scriptures and the Christian New Testament, should be our only authority. And, on many issues, that is true. Certainly on all essential things, all things necessary for our salvation, we need to accept the authority of the bible.
But then there’s all those other things in the bible that just aren’t very clear. The way the many Christian denominations differ is evidence that we all don’t interpret the bible to be saying the same thing. Some say that we should baptize babies. Others say we should only baptize adults. Some say a priest shouldn’t get married. Some denominations never allow instrumental music. All based on their understanding of the bible. Each denomination pile verse upon verse from the bible to prove that their way of being the church is the one that is “true to scripture.”
This is what the scribes of Jesus time did. They used biblical texts and saying from the rabbis to make complex rules that usually only they could understand. This morning’s Gospel tells us that Jesus teaching was not like that of the scribes. It appears that quoting bible passages was not the only way that Jesus expressed his authority.
Maybe Jesus taught with authority by revealing to that crowd God’s Holy Spirit. The Spirit of God dwelled within Jesus. He often expanded on the meaning of the scriptures. “And you have heard it said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy,' but I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Such inspiration would have to be seen as a manifestation of God’s Holy Spirit.
Or maybe it was Jesus’ use of reason that made his authority so obvious. Unlike the scribes, Jesus often used home grown stories that made sense to the people to make his points. They understood him, and heard the wisdom in his words.
Or maybe Jesus’ teaching passed the test of experience. Our past experience is certainly an authority for most of us. We know something to be true because we have tested it through experience. Jesus’ words rang true because those who heard them had experienced that truth.
Today, we can look for these same sources of authority to inform us on our spiritual journey. But I think we need all four. If we lean on the bible alone, we begin to treat the bible like an idol. If we depend just on the Holy Spirit, we might fall into the error of emotionalism. If we just use reason, we will fall into the maze called philosophy. And experience by itself is nothing more than humanism.
But, when combined, we can depend on scripture, the Holy Spirit, reason and experience to reveal to us what is true and good. When kept in balance, we can use these tools to discover the will of God.
Jesus granted us his authority here on earth. We are called to be the teachers and healers in the world today. Let us go out into the world, and use the tools God has given us; scripture, the Holy Spirit, reason and experience, to proclaim to this world the Good News of God’s redemptive love.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
January 15, 2006
January 15, 2006
When Samuel is called, he responds with, "Speak, for your servant is listening." Listening is not always an easy thing to do, especially when we have prejudged the message to be something we'd rather not hear. However, sometimes such messages are important, so we have to overcome our resistance and preconceived notions in order to fully receive the message being offered. Here's how I envision the way the encounter between Nathanael and Jesus unfolded.
Philip finds Nathanael sitting under a fig tree. He excitedly tells him that he has found the one spoken of by Moses and the prophets. Nathanael responds with, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" We don't know what Nathanael was brooding about as he sat under the fig tree, but this rather insulting reply suggests that he was responding from a very dark place within himself.
When I am full of doom and gloom, I am inclined to mutter the most awful things in response to anyone who attempts to enter the dark cloud surrounding me. For instance, if someone mentions some news about Texas, I might grumble, "Can anything good come out of Texas?"
Now I've never lived in Texas and have never visited the state, yet I have all of these preconceived notions about its inhabitants. There's a word for this kind of attitude: prejudice, a term defined in the dictionary as "an adverse judgment or opinion formed beforehand or without knowledge or examination of the facts. " What might we call one who expresses such prejudices? A bigot, defined as "a prejudiced person who is intolerant of any opinions differing from his own."
We don't know why Nathanael was so prejudiced toward anyone from Nazareth. But we can surmise the effect such bigoted attitudes might have had on his interior life.
Prejudice builds walls which we hide behind to avoid facing the truth. Prejudice also forms mental barriers within ourselves. When hiding behind these self-made walls, we become dependent on own ideas, the stone and mortar from which these walls are made. When these ideas are challenged, our safety feels threatened. We defend our walls by all means possible. Prejudice is an attempt to guard our safety. It is a response that springs from fear, a deadly poison that will eventually destroy us all without the proper antidote.
For some reason, Nathanael decides to go meet this man from Nazareth. When Jesus sees him approaching, he shouts out, "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!" This comment makes no sense, unless we consider it a retort to Nathanael's bigoted remark about Nazareth. Here is an Israelite who does not hold his tongue. Here is an Israelite who disregards the social mores, who is not restrained by being "politically correct," but who speaks his mind and doesn't care whether others are offended.
Nathanael is rather taken back by this response. How did this man from Nazareth overhear his conversation with Philip? "Where did you get to know me?" he asks. Jesus answered, "I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you." This stranger from Nazareth knew what Nathanael had said to Philip. He also knew that dark place Nathanael had been in under the fig tree. Yet, here he stood, knowing Nathanael's ugliest inclinations, yet still smiling with an invitation to join him in his mission. Could it be this man from Nazareth was indeed the one promised by the prophets? As his prejudices against Nazareth begin to fade away and a new hope stirs within him, chasing away those dark clouds, Nathanael finds himself transformed. He blurts out, ""Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!"
Jesus is amused by this sudden transformation. "You will see greater things than these," he tells him. "You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." Nathanael would have recognized the reference to the story of Jacob's dream of a ladder stretching from earth to heaven. Jacob, the original "Israelite," was quite the rascal, yet was blessed by God. It might just be possible that even a bigot like Nathanael, a tax collector like Matthew, a hothead like Peter, or a sinner like you and me could also be blessed by God and become a follower of the Messiah.
St. Paul reminds us that we are a temple of the Holy Spirit. Here is our antidote to the prejudices that dwell within each one of us: God's healing Spirit. But we first have to do all we can do to make a place in ourselves for this gift. We have to bring to light the prejudices that dwell within each and every one of us. We have to see the walls that we have built. And then we need to trust that God will do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, that God will tear down those walls that are beyond our strength. Free from these barriers, the light of God's Spirit can then shine brightly, allowing us to offer freedom to a world trapped behind walls of bigotry, an antidote to the poison of prejudice.
When Samuel is called, he responds with, "Speak, for your servant is listening." Listening is not always an easy thing to do, especially when we have prejudged the message to be something we'd rather not hear. However, sometimes such messages are important, so we have to overcome our resistance and preconceived notions in order to fully receive the message being offered. Here's how I envision the way the encounter between Nathanael and Jesus unfolded.
Philip finds Nathanael sitting under a fig tree. He excitedly tells him that he has found the one spoken of by Moses and the prophets. Nathanael responds with, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" We don't know what Nathanael was brooding about as he sat under the fig tree, but this rather insulting reply suggests that he was responding from a very dark place within himself.
When I am full of doom and gloom, I am inclined to mutter the most awful things in response to anyone who attempts to enter the dark cloud surrounding me. For instance, if someone mentions some news about Texas, I might grumble, "Can anything good come out of Texas?"
Now I've never lived in Texas and have never visited the state, yet I have all of these preconceived notions about its inhabitants. There's a word for this kind of attitude: prejudice, a term defined in the dictionary as "an adverse judgment or opinion formed beforehand or without knowledge or examination of the facts. " What might we call one who expresses such prejudices? A bigot, defined as "a prejudiced person who is intolerant of any opinions differing from his own."
We don't know why Nathanael was so prejudiced toward anyone from Nazareth. But we can surmise the effect such bigoted attitudes might have had on his interior life.
Prejudice builds walls which we hide behind to avoid facing the truth. Prejudice also forms mental barriers within ourselves. When hiding behind these self-made walls, we become dependent on own ideas, the stone and mortar from which these walls are made. When these ideas are challenged, our safety feels threatened. We defend our walls by all means possible. Prejudice is an attempt to guard our safety. It is a response that springs from fear, a deadly poison that will eventually destroy us all without the proper antidote.
For some reason, Nathanael decides to go meet this man from Nazareth. When Jesus sees him approaching, he shouts out, "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!" This comment makes no sense, unless we consider it a retort to Nathanael's bigoted remark about Nazareth. Here is an Israelite who does not hold his tongue. Here is an Israelite who disregards the social mores, who is not restrained by being "politically correct," but who speaks his mind and doesn't care whether others are offended.
Nathanael is rather taken back by this response. How did this man from Nazareth overhear his conversation with Philip? "Where did you get to know me?" he asks. Jesus answered, "I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you." This stranger from Nazareth knew what Nathanael had said to Philip. He also knew that dark place Nathanael had been in under the fig tree. Yet, here he stood, knowing Nathanael's ugliest inclinations, yet still smiling with an invitation to join him in his mission. Could it be this man from Nazareth was indeed the one promised by the prophets? As his prejudices against Nazareth begin to fade away and a new hope stirs within him, chasing away those dark clouds, Nathanael finds himself transformed. He blurts out, ""Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!"
Jesus is amused by this sudden transformation. "You will see greater things than these," he tells him. "You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." Nathanael would have recognized the reference to the story of Jacob's dream of a ladder stretching from earth to heaven. Jacob, the original "Israelite," was quite the rascal, yet was blessed by God. It might just be possible that even a bigot like Nathanael, a tax collector like Matthew, a hothead like Peter, or a sinner like you and me could also be blessed by God and become a follower of the Messiah.
St. Paul reminds us that we are a temple of the Holy Spirit. Here is our antidote to the prejudices that dwell within each one of us: God's healing Spirit. But we first have to do all we can do to make a place in ourselves for this gift. We have to bring to light the prejudices that dwell within each and every one of us. We have to see the walls that we have built. And then we need to trust that God will do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, that God will tear down those walls that are beyond our strength. Free from these barriers, the light of God's Spirit can then shine brightly, allowing us to offer freedom to a world trapped behind walls of bigotry, an antidote to the poison of prejudice.
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