God calls, do w e answer? 6.23.13

God sounds really angry in today’s reading from Isaiah. Ticked off to the max about those ungrateful Israelites, recently freed from Exile and now absolutely ignoring—turning a deaf ear-- to God’s reaching out. It’s a sad reading actually, for in it we hear God God! imploring—begging the Israelites to pay attention, to turn back toward the Divine. God cries out “HERE I AM!” And what do the Israelites do? They ignore God. And what does God do? God gets angry. Really really angry. It’s one of the most vulnerable protrayals of God in Hebrew Scritpure.
When I was a practicing psychotherapist clients would come to me with “anger issues.” They wanted me, as their counselor to help them get rid of that anger. They’d become frustrated—angry even---when I told them that anger is a secondary emotion, that to get rid of it we must dig below the surface, where the anger is and get to the real issue, the primary emotion. More often than not the anger was masking some other feeling, something that would make the person much more vulnerable like sadness or fear.
 That’s why we use anger—to go on the offensive, to cover up our vulnerability. To protect ourselves.
We  all do it. Even God.
There is no more vulnerable position in the whole world than telling someone that you love them. God is telling us all the time: I love you. I love You I love you. And when we ignore that love? When we ignore God? Well, I think God gets very frustrated, very hurt and, in turn very angry.
All God wanted was for the Israelites to respond, to remember that their freedom, that their very life began and ended in the arms of God. But they didn’t listen, they didn’t hear, they didn’t respond.
Do we?
Do we hear God’s pleas? Do we listen to God’s calls to us?
Do we reach out and meet God halfway?
Remember, God isn’t some isolated Creator who sits atop a throne dictating the ins and outs of life. God is all about relationship. God is a spinning and spiraling source of light and life out of which—from which—all life is emitted. But it doesn’t end there—it isn’t all about God giving to us, it’s also about us giving to God. That swirling spinning source of light and life gives life but is also fueled by, enhanced by, fed by the love and the light we give back. God really wants us to respond. God really wants us to interact, God really wants us as part of the Divine dance of creation.
And when we don’t respond, when we fall silent, God grieves, God laments, God gets sad. And sometimes, God gets angry.
Because God, to paraphrase Sally Field at the Oscars, God really really likes us. And God wants to spend time with us.
So God takes any opportunity—every opportunity-- to reach out to us and then? Well then God waits. God waits for us to receive God, to accept God, to be in relationship with God.
Often those of us who look, on the outside, to be God’s chosen folk—people to whom life has been very good, people who have been abundantly blessed----people like you and me----are the ones who neglect our relationship with God the most. It’s not that we forget God, it’s not that we deny God, we just kind of take God for granted.
And when we take God for granted we’re not listening, we don’t hear God’s calls to us.
We became so numb to God that God had to come to us in the person of Jesus Christ to a.) get some understanding of the human condition from inside the human condition and b.) shake us up by breaking every boundary and busting through every limit. From the healing of the sick, to the embracing of children, to the respect for women, to the touching the untouchables and all the way into and then out of the tomb, God in the person of Jesus Christ came to upset the status quo and shake the foundations of life to it’s very core. Last week this boundary breaking and limit busting involved a sinful woman, two weeks ago, a Roman Soldier and this week, the Gerasane Demonic.
This man with a Legion of evil spirits, demons—nowadays we’d call it schizophrenia or psychotic mania---is so sick, so crazy, so possessed that he lives among the dead in the cemetery. The townspeople avoid him and fear him for no chains seem able to hold him. He is so horrified by himself that he begs, BEGS Jesus to release him from his torture. He has nothing to lose so he goes directly to God and reaches out his hands saying, embrace me, Lord. Release me Lord, help me Lord. He reaches out and he is healed. He asks and he receives. He is open to the Love of God, he listened, he heard and he received. Once again, the work of Jesus isn’t in the mainstream but on the outskirts the fringes of society. Once again, Jesus teaches us, the in crowd through the faith of those on the outside, looking in.
So what are we to take from these readings? —that God has feelings too and that God’s love is reserved especially for those who are the most ill, the most needy among us?
No. I think what we’re to take from today’s readings is much more basic. I think the primary message in today’s readings is that God’s Love is for everyone. It’s what Paul says in his letter to the church in Galatia: there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer man or woman, there is no longer Pharisee or Gentile, no longer Gay or straight, no longer mentally stable and mentally ill, no longer, black or white, no longer rich or poor, no longer Christian or Muslim, no longer us and them. There is only God’s beloved. You, me, us, them. Beloved by God. Forever. No matter what.
So, the take home message from today’s readings is this: God is always calling out to us, God is always reaching for us. May we, in turn hear God’s calls, may we accept God’s touch, may we receive God’s Love. Amen.

Sin Means We're Not God--Phew! Pentecost 4 June 16, 2013

+I am a sinner. A big ol’ sinner. I miss the mark all the time. Sometime I don’t even try to do the right thing. Sometimes I know what the right thing is and I simply don’t do it. Maybe because the right thing to do, the Godly thing to do is more difficult and I simply don’t have the energy to tackle the more correct, the better yet more difficult path. Other times I really think I’m doing what’s right, what’s of God, only to realize later that I’ve made a mistake, I’ve missed the mark, I’ve moved farther away from God. Yes, in  various and sundry ways, I’m a sinner.
I don’t tell you this because I decided to make today’s sermon a confession, I tell you this because sin is one of those words that’s been hijacked by the fundamentalists of the world. It’s not a bad word—it’s a good word—a word that accurately describes a good deal of the human condition.
Sin doesn’t mean we’re bad.
Sin means we’re human.
Jesus was human in all ways EXCEPT he was without sin.
Sin means we’re not God.
PHEW, cause that’s one job I do not want!
Our readings today talk a lot about sin.
In the Second Book of Samuel we enter the story of King David about halfway through. David, being greatly blessed by God, has replaced the old evil Saul as King and David’s appetites, as is very common with people elevated to positions of great power, continue to grow and expand. Kind David sees what he wants and he takes it, no matter the cost. He saw Uriah’s beautiful wife Bathsheba and decided he wanted her. So, after getting her pregnant, David sees to it that Uriah meets an untimely death and Bathsheba is suddenly part of David’s household. I know this sounds like a bad soap opera but really it’s sacred scripture!
Now, obviously, David’s behavior is sinful—he committed adultery and he had another man killed…no two ways around it. Most of us haven’t sinned to the extent of David, but we’ve all sinned, we’ve all blown it many times, that’s for sure. But as with so much of life, it’s not so much the mistakes which define us it’s what we do about the mistakes that makes us who we are.
David, in the annals of Judea-Christian history, is a well beloved and respected man….Jesus himself is described as being “of the House of David” in the

nativity narratives….so just how did such a screw up of a king, such a sinner of somewhat epic proportions…get to be so honored and loved? How did David become a paragon of a Godly man?
He repented. After Nathan, toward the end of today’s reading, points out the error of his ways, David  gets it, he admits his mistakes, he confesses his sin and God, we’re told, puts away his sin. David approached God in repentance and humility and God forgave him.
[sidebar: while David’s sin is put away we do get these unfortunate last couple of lines in this reading where David is told that as punishment for his sins, the baby he and Bathsheba conceived will be killed—these lines are clearly the additions of later editors who were making  a whole other point about the evil of the monarchy, It’s not germane to our focus this morning, but I didn’t want to ignore it—my understanding of God is the God who, when David repents, puts away, that is, forgives him his sin. The God of my understanding does not kill innocent children because of the mistakes made by that child’s parents. It just doesn’t jibe. And so we take these last lines with a GIGANCTIC grain of salt.]

The important message from Samuel is that David becomes aware of his mistakes and makes amends, makes restitution, he repents, and in the eyes of God he returns to a position of grace.
It’s actually quite remarkable—our God is so loving and so engaged with us that, regardless of our mistakes, regardless of our sins, if we own them, take responsibility for them and ask God to forgive us we are forgiven. We’re healed. Our lives are renewed. It absolutely stunning.
And really hard to accept.
Which brings us to today’s Gospel. That Pharisee just couldn’t deal with the “woman of notorious sin” bathing Jesus in her tears and oil, could he? Her sins were so numerous this man of great position and honor couldn’t fathom how or why Jesus would give her a second look let alone allow her to touch him! Confident of his position of disgust,  he confronts Jesus and, as always, Jesus turns the tables on him and within a few verses this man of high cultural and political standing is put firmly in his place. Jesus tells him what I believe we all need to hear---

the sin isn’t the issue, the repentance is.
So many people I know won’t set foot in a church because they’re afraid of hearing how “bad” they’ve been ---they assume that because we actually utter the word sin, because we actually confess our sins we’re all about blaming and accusing, that we’re all about seeing the speck in our neighbor’s eye, ignoring the log in our own. These people view us all—the church---like a whole community of Pharisees. How I wish I could convince them that instead of a church full of Pharisees we’re a church full of “notorious sinners.”
That what separates us from other people isn’t our lack of sin, what separates us from  other people is our abundance of repentance.
It’s the beauty of our faith: we make mistakes, and when we humbly acknowledge them, God forgives.
Sin is part of the human condition and forgiveness? Forgiveness is part of the Divine condition. We will make mistakes, we will miss the mark, we will sin. And when we do, God is ready to put away our sin and send us on our way: forgiven, healed and renewed.
Amen. +

Jesus’ Ministry is not a Spectator Sport Proper 5, Yr C June 9, 2013

The concept of this sermon is heavily extracted from “The Lectionary Lab” for Proper 5, Yr C . Direct Quotations are marked by brackets.(http://lectionarylab.blogspot.com)

+A friend posted a cartoon on Facebook this week:
On top was a banner reading: As a disciple it wasn’t easy to sneak away from Jesus for a day of golf.
Below that was a drawing of the disciple saying to Jesus. “can’t join you today, boss, I’ve got a cold.” Jesus, looking sufficiently disgusted replies, “You’re healed.”
Jesus, as a few middle-schoolers I know so aptly stated,  had some “MAD healing powers” and in today’s Gospel he performs the ultimate healing by reviving a corpse.
Two of today’s readings deal with returns from the dead. Outrageous, unbelievable, fantastic stories of people being brought back to life through the power of God. Both stories also have a widow, an only son and an act of utter compassion by a prophet, a “person of God.”
As I mentioned in my Thursday email blast, I’ve struggled with what seems to be the randomness with which Jesus offers healing. Whenever one of these stories comes up in the lectionary I wonder how these seemingly arbitrary healings affect those of us who’ve lost loved ones to disease. Why are some healed and not others?
And then it hit me--on just about every occasion, [Jesus is attracted to the person in need of help and in spite of all cultural norms, reaches out for them. It’s as if he can’t help himself. As one commentator puts it:
Throughout his ministry, opportunities for healings came to Jesus, but he didn’t go looking for them. Every time he worked a miracle it happened because of those three little words: “he had compassion.”
Time after time in the Gospels, Jesus’ compassion and love spills over and he breaks all sorts of rules and does a miracle for someone in need.]
But again, why only some? Why not all?
Well, if we reflect on the beginning of Jesus’ ministry there’s a clue:
[After his Baptism, the Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted by the Devil. One of his struggles was to resist the temptation to use his powers to fix the world’s physical problems; represented by turning stone into bread to feed the world.
There in the wilderness, Jesus realized that fixing every human hurt was not his mission; indeed that miracle working and signs and wonders would be a diversion from his primary calling; which was to proclaim the Kingdom of God.] So, he purposely held in his power, restrained himself so that we, his followers, wouldn’t just stand on the sidelines but jump in and being moved to compassion like he was, get involved and make a difference in the world. He doesn’t want us to look at him as some kind of magic maker, he wants us to look at him as a difference maker. And then he wants us learn from him and follow in his footsteps. For Jesus, I think, his ministry wasn’t about how many people he could help as much as it was about how many people he could change.
[This is why he often told people, after he’d healed them, “all right now don’t TELL ANYONE I did this, ok?” Scholars call this the Messianic Secret]…that somehow Jesus thought he could keep his identity as the Messiah from going viral. You see Jesus did not want people following him for what they could get out of it, for the supposed material benefits of being “Jesus people,” instead, Jesus really wanted people to get excited about giving their life to God, about being committed to peace and love and justice.
Jesus wants us to take charge and bring peace to this earth by following his lead, by living a life of love and light and hope. Jesus was afraid that miracle-working and faith-healing would get in the way of us realizing that the way to bring the Kingdom of God to this world will be accomplished by God through US, not by God alone. For that is God’s purpose in living among us as one of us, isn’t it? That we partner with God, that we act as God’s hands and feet, eyes and ears right here on earth.
To do this, we must believe, we must have faith. Yet, sadly, the world is full of people who don’t accept or believe that God is love, that God is forgiving, that God is merciful, that God is kind.  Too many people in this world believe instead that God is eager to punish us.
In today’s reading about Elijah, the woman assumes he’s been sent by God to punish her: “What’s gone wrong between us, man of God? Have you come to me to call attention to my sin and kill my son?”
And in the Gospel, after Jesus has performed his miracle the crowd’s immediate response is to be afraid -- the text says “Fear seized all of them . . .”
[We live in a world full of fear. People are afraid of terrorism,] of losing their jobs, of illness, of hurricanes, tornadoes, forest fires, building collapses and a rotting infrastructure. We’re afraid. Very afraid.
And in the midst of this all, there are people who are afraid of God, people who believe that God is indifferent to the human plight, people who believe there is no God to help us.

[In this bog of sadness, sorrow and unbelief we’re called to be like Jesus and break the world’s rules and sometimes our own in order to shatter this cycle of fear and violence with words and deeds of compassion and healing.] For when we do that, instead of watching the mad healing powers of this man of God, this man who is God from the sidelines, we get into the game, and become Christ’s body in this world. The ministry of Jesus, the ministry which is the legacy Jesus has left for us is not nor shall it ever be, a spectator sport. +

Being Humbled by the Prayer of Humble Access--June 2, 2013

+This past week I was on a reading retreat-- an intentional time of rest, prayer and reflection fueled by my reading of two books—one by contemporary religious commentator Becky Garrison on mission-shaped ministries for the 21st century ( Garrison, Becky Ancient-Future Disciples: Meeting Jesus in Mission Shaped Ministries Seabury Books, 2011) and another, The Bible that basically talked about the same thing. Through my reading I was challenged to look at everything we do as The Church, questioning whether what we’re doing is life-giving or institutional-giving. Both books pushed my boundaries of the familiar and the regular because both books clearly state that to be Christ’s body in the world, as is our Christian challenge, we must be a living breathing, adapting organism of faith and hope and love.
How many of you are familiar with the Prayer of Humble Access? We recite it just before communion at the 8 am service. Those of you who grew up with the 1928 prayer book or in a Rite One parish, or in the RC church, know this prayer:
We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy. Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.
This is one of those prayers, one of those icons of our institutional faith that people either love or loathe. I, myself, have spent little time with this prayer. When I first encountered it, I decided I didn’t like it and just moved on, never challenging my verdict and usually reciting it with a bit of disdain in my heart. That is, until I heard the foreshadowing of it in today’s Gospel, when the centurion says:
“Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.”

These words are the words of an outsider—a Roman soldier praying for another outsider—a slave—an amazing act of Love.
The boundary breaking in today’s readings is stunning!
In our reading from the Book of King’s Solomon stands on the steps of his newly completed temple, praying that all those drawn to this amazing edifice, familiar and stranger alike, will come to understand that the God this building is dedicated to is a God for all people. No exceptions. Read through a 21st century lens, these words drip with irony as, for most of its history, the temple in Jerusalem has been fought over by people trying to maintain their version of the institutional status quo, avoiding, at great cost, a move into the unfamiliar and the new.
 In both our reading from King’s and our reading from Luke we are reminded that the growth of the church-- that the spread of the Body of Christ in this world--is a journey into the unfamiliar and a trip down the road of unknowing.
Our Christian faith, if it’s going well, should be, at times,  uncomfortable. Because our faith, if it is to grow and to flourish, must accept the new, embrace the different and welcome the unfamiliar. If we stay in what’s familiar, if we go through the motions of our worship just as we always have, if we listen to the same old people saying the same old things and refuse to listen to the new, the different and the uncomfortable, then instead of being Christ’s body in this world we are just a lifeless corpse hanging on a cross.
So what does any of this have to do with the Prayer of Humble Access and my opinion of it? Lots.
Both of the books I read this week—Becky Garrison’s and God’s---are full of stories about what happens when we open ourselves up to the unfamiliar and the new.
So as I read today’s Gospel and heard the familiar prose of the Prayer of Humble Access I began to wrestle with my assumptions and my opinions. I looked for something new wrapped up in the old, I looked for something fresh out of the familiar. Through reading, thinking, praying and talking I realized that what I didn’t like about the prayer was the exact thing I needed to embrace about the prayer!
 I always heard this prayer as a hymn of self-loathing-- that we couldn’t receive communion until we were convinced that we were worthless worms and that it’s only through the mercy of God that we aren’t thrown into eternal damnation and hellfire.
Well guess what? While God never wants us to loathe ourselves—and of this I am absolutely positively sure--- we aren’t—and never can be—worthy of God’s grace and mercy. Although we can never earn it, we also can never ever lose it. We have two choices: forget and reject it or remember and embrace it. God isn’t the fickle one, we are.
We get so caught up in the institutional part of church we forget the Body of Christ part of the church---our readings this morning remind us that ours is an ever-changing faith: the way we worship God, the way we strive to be God in the Flesh on earth, is always evolving, changing and becoming something all together new. As Solomon prayed for on the temple steps, as Jesus recognized in the faith of the Centurion, as I discovered when I read the prayer of humble access with fresh eyes, being the body of Christ in the world requires that we embrace the different, accept the new and reach out to the stranger; because when we do our faith is enriched, our worship takes on new meaning and our God, the God who loves everyone always no exceptions? Well when we look at the familiar from a new perspective and when we welcome change instead of fearing it, that God shouts Alleluia and Amen!+