Amazing, Messy Grace Lent IV 2014

Theologian Rick Morley refers to the story of the Man Blind since birth as the "Dirt n' spit n' love Gospel." He's right, it is a dirt n spit n love Gospel...written about a dirt n spit n love savior who established this, our dirt n spit n love faith.
Being Christian is far from neat and tidy. It's a messy business following this Savior of ours, the one born in a barn, the one who violated the mores of the day, who pushed the temple authorities to their limit, who got down in the dirt and the spit of life in order to show that everyone, everywhere, forever, is loved. Ours is a very real, very accessible, very dirty, messy and muddy faith.
That’s been the message these past few Sundays, that without the dirt ‘n spit ‘n love of God as given to us through Jesus Christ, we don’t live, we simply exist. Without the dirt ‘n spit ‘n love of God our eyes may be open but we don’t really see. Without the dirt’n spit ‘n love of God we may hear the noise, but never listen to the message. That without the dirt ‘n spit ‘n love of God our thirst—no matter how much we drink-- will never be quenched.
Today, John continues this message of dirt n spit n love with the story of the blind man who is healed on the Sabbath.
As Jesus is walking along he sees the blind man, he notices him. The man isn’t asking for healing, he isn’t, as far as we know, drawing any attention to himself. Nothing we read today tells us that this man, in any way, was seeking Jesus out. All we know is that Jesus, realizing it’s a healing moment… a teaching moment … a ministry moment, takes action-- regardless of the fact that it’s the Sabbath, a day no observant Jew worth his salt would be doing anything akin to work—. There’s healing to do and love to spread, and Jesus didn't care what day it was.
Now Jesus could have healed the man without the mud and the washing ……all he needed to do was say the word and the man would have been healed…..but for Jesus, it wasn't about the healing of one, it's about the healing of all. And so Jesus and his companions stop.
The disciples immediately step in it by asking a numbskull question about whose sin caused this man’s blindness---as if any of us deserve to be blind, or deaf, or disabled in any way! Instead of rebuking them directly for assuming that God is some sort of spiteful hateful Deity—Jesus says, “watch, listen, and learn. What I'll do for this man I'll do for everyone. "
Through the love of God, as given to us in Jesus Christ all of us, everyone, everywhere, will be cured of blindness, all of us, everyone everywhere who are lost will be found, and all of us, everyone and everywhere who are thirsty will be quenched with living water  and that all of us, everyone and everywhere who feel unlovable will, indeed, be loved.
So Jesus prepares his healing paste, with dirt ‘n spit ‘n love, slathers it on the man's eyes and lo and behold, after a quick wash, the man can see!! Of course, the dirt didn’t heal him. It wasn’t the mud, it wasn’t even Jesus’ touch, or the man’s desire ….it was something else.
Something unquantifiable and indescribable.
What happened was beyond the blind man’s comprehension, it was beyond his neighbors’ comprehension, it’s beyond our comprehension.
And for Jesus, that was the point—it’s not about practicing religion in a certain "right way." It’s not about crossing the t's of our faith and dotting the "i's". It's about, as we discussed in our Lenten study this week, moving from simple belief to deep knowing. It’s about that shift from simply professing faith to living our faith, lock, stock and barrel.
That transition, that transformation requires something more than dirt, something more than spit and something even more than love. It requires grace. Amazing, miraculous and incredible Grace.
The miracle of the man who once was blind and now could see, the miracle of that dirt n spit n love of God that Jesus formed into a healing paste was in a word, Grace.
Grace--it’s what’s been coursing through our readings these past few weeks. An amazing, limitless, grace.
It’s what gave Nicodemus the courage to go and see Jesus, it’s what gave the woman at the well a voice to be heard, a charisma to convert those who once shunned her. It’s what caused Jesus to see the blind man, it’s what carried the man to the pool to be washed free of darkness, to be bathed in light.
It’s what makes firefighters run into a burning building, it’s what makes police officers answer a call, it’s what makes all first responders go toward disaster while everyone else runs from it. [its what made a doctor on a plane rush to the aid of my friend Terry, saving her life.] It’s what allows us to forgive those who’ve hurt us so deeply, it’s what compels us to reach to out to those with less, it’s what peaks the longing we feel for justice, what makes us fight for causes others have long forgotten, what keeps us working to make this church—our church—a place of healing and hope for all who enter our doors,
it’s what makes us be better people than we ever thought we could be.
It’s called Grace.
It takes us from blindness to sight, from wretchedness to worthiness, from darkness to light, from lost to found.
The work of God, the work of Jesus, is full of the dirt ‘n spit ‘n love that leads us to Amazing Grace.
A grace which when we believe it, when we trust it, when we embrace it, always leads
 us home.
Amen.
[Please stand and turn to Hymn 671.]

Lent 3 March 23 2014

+Last week, while making a presentation to the Bishop’s Endowment Committee, I experienced elitism and sexism. While I can’t tell you what all this endowment committee does, I can tell you who comprises the committee: 10 very white, very straight, very male and very rich people. Now, when it comes to my job, I’m a pretty self-assured person so imagine my surprise when they treated me like I was a little incompetent girl. Now while they didn’t overtly call me a girl, or accuse me of incompetence, there was no question in my mind, they didn’t see me as a respected clergy person in the Diocese of Western New York. They saw me as a girl. And that—the patronizing sexist elitist way in which they treated me—shocked me. I’m not wired to process sexism. It just wasn’t how I was raised.
I was a lucky and blessed kid* . Strong and independent women surrounded me throughout childhood. And the men in my life were not at all chauvinistic. The kids my age in the neighborhood were mainly boys and when they tried to tell me I couldn’t do something because I was a girl, I just beat them at it! I was raised to believe that I could be whomever and whatever I wanted. On those rare occasions when someone said, no you can’t, you’re a girl, my parents, grandparents, sisters, priest, would say, “yes you can, you’re a girl!”
If only our Samaritan Woman at the Well had such an experience. For generations biblical scholars labeled her either a harlot or lazy. Even the modern-day commentators who laud her as the evangelist she truly was—after all she converted an entire Samaritan city---still make reference to her being immoral, dim-witted, and unworthy. Her village shunned and mocked her.  The truth is, we don’t know what led her to her difficult circumstance, we just know she’d been married 5 times was currently unmarried and was being cared for by some man, probably her deceased husband’s brother. We know that things were bad enough for her that she’d traveled to the well at high noon, no doubt to avoid the stares and whispers of the other villagers. Hers was not an easy life.
Jesus is travelling from Judea to Galilee, just after his encounter with Nicodemus; the man who came to see Jesus in the dead of night, not because he had insomnia, but because he is afraid of being seen—by his friends, by Temple officials, probably even by Jesus.  The shortest route to Galilee goes through Samaritan territory but Jews took the longer route, in order to avoid this area. The Samaritans were a despised people. Generations earlier the Jews of Samaria—yes they were Jewish--had dared to contaminate themselves through inter-marriage with Gentiles. In the Jewish world of Jesus’ day, no one was filthier than a Samaritan.
But Jesus, maybe because he was in a hurry, maybe because he never met a boundary or a bigotry or a hatred he could let stand, walked smack dab into the Samaritan territory. Tired, he stops to rest at the iconic Jacob’s well—a place of great significance in the Hebrew scriptural tradition--- while the others went off in search of food.
Our Gospel author, John, makes sure we get the significance of it being noon—when no one in their right mind would be trekking to the well to draw water—high noon, where the lack of shadows leaves no place to hide, no shroud under which one may keep from being seen. John wants us to see this juxtaposition between Nicodemus, who lurked in the shadows, hungry for jesus’ word but very afraid of what others would think, and The Woman at the Well who has no need to hide in the dark, for everyone knows who she is and what she’s done. She simply needs water and so off she goes, bucket in hand.
As he encounters her, Jesus begins to engage her in conversation and, astonishing for that day and age and circumstance, the Samaritan Woman at the Well answers….questions…and debates!
Amazing as this may seem, it’s not the most incredible part of the story.
The most incredible, astonishing and miraculous thing in this story is that this woman, in a New York minute, gets it. She listens to Jesus and she hears. She watches Jesus and she sees. She’s transformed by Jesus and ---dropping her water jug much like Andrew and Peter did their fishing nets --the Samaritan woman heads back to her village proclaiming that she’s just encountered the One. The Messiah.
Now remember, this woman has been shunned by everyone yet her transformation, her rebirth is so evident that the villagers actually listen to her, and then seek out Jesus themselves, thirsty to drink this living water of Christ.
Much like those heroes of Hebrew scripture, Miriam, Ruth, Esther and Judith and like Mary, the mother of Jesus, our Woman at the Well was a prophet, apostle, evangelist and preacher.
She proved a worthy sparring partner for Jesus as she questioned the wisdom of he who desired a drink yet had no cup, he who claimed to be holy, yet trod on the unclean soil of Samaria and he who, against all common sense, good breeding and religious observance, engaged in a lengthy dialogue with her, a woman of difficult circumstance, not because she needed to be healed, saved or rebuked, but because she was willing to be transformed.
She was willing—eager-- to drink the living water of this Jesus. She didn’t just “follow him,” she drank his Sacred Water, she ate his Holy food and she absorbed his very being until she overflowed with truth and light.
Thanks be to God the woman at the well and Jesus the Christ refused to be defined by others.
Thanks be to God Jesus was neither elitist nor sexist.
Thanks be to God the Woman at the well refused to be shackled by shame. But most of all, thanks be to God she refused to stay thirsty.
Not bad for a girl.+

* From this point on this sermon is an edited and somewhat reworked version of the sermon I gave on this text three years ago.

Lent 2 Deacon Pete's sermon

Journey, that's the word for today, journey.  What do you think of when you hear the word?  A trip, going away, heading into the unknown, traveling to a well loved place from your past, leaving the familiar and challenging  ourselves to experience a culture, a language, a people and food that are foreign?
What do we do when we contemplate a journey?  First we decide that we should go, then we decide where.  Based on the place we choose, we begin to make plans.  Do we take a bus, a train, a plane or do we drive?  What do we take with us?  How do we pack?  Warm weather clothes or hats, gloves and jackets?  Do we bring the coffee maker or will there be one where we are going?  What about the dogs, kennel or in-home dog sitter?  Do we need an atlas  or will we trust google maps on our phones?  When will we leave, will we travel at night so the kids can sleep through or in the daytime so we can really see where we're going and appreciate the sights along the way?  Who's going with us?  Just our partner, the children, a few close friends?  There's a lot to decide before we actually close and lock the door and begin our journey.
Unless of course you're Abram...in that case, God says go and you just go.  Abram hears Gods promises, you will be a great nation, your name will be great, I will bless you, and through you all the families of the earth will be blessed.  And, based on nothing more than these promises Abram leaves all that he has known to journey into new and foreign lands.
He is following God on a journey without a map, a journey about which he knows nothing.   We know what he cannot yet know; his journey will be long, much longer than perhaps he thought.  It will have many ups and downs, many joys and sorrows.  But, it is a journey filled with promise, most importantly God's promise to lead the way.
He believes God and goes without question.  Likewise Nicodemus, in all innocence, he begins a quest that will lead him to people, places and ideas he cannot imagine.
Nicodemus, a respected leader of the Pharisees comes to Jesus in "hesitant curiosity".  He is kind of sneaking around, coming to Jesus under cover of darkness.  After all, what would his friends, neighbors and relatives think about him coming to see this itinerant preacher, a known collector of the rabble, the sinners, the great unwashed?  Margaret Hess calls Nicodemus the "Patron Saint of the Curious".  If they knew, his colleagues would have called him "nuts"!  What could this wandering Aramean possibly have to teach the learned and sophisticated Pharisee? Nicodemus is not there to buy anything, he doesn't want to be convinced, or to sell all that he has and follow Jesus.  He comes at night to ask a few questions.  Nicodemus wants to see this miracle worker for himself and to form his own opinion.
He comes at night so that no one knows what he is doing. It is very possible that Nicodemus himself isn't sure that he wants to be doing what he is doing.  But he is curious.  He wants to know more. And so he goes.
He says " you know Jesus, were all pretty impressed with your signs and miracles".  And then Jesus begins a conversation with him about being born from above.  Suddenly, Nicodemus the teacher, the well educated Pharisee, becomes the student. He is baffled and confused.  He wants to know how someone can be born again.  Jesus corrects Nicodemus.  Jesus isn't talking about a birth involving flesh and blood, no, He is talking about being born of the water and the spirit, being born from above.  Jesus tells Nicodemus to get over this born again idea and instead to be born into God"s life. He says you don't need God to come into your life, God offers us God's own life as a gift and wants us to enter in.  You need to be in the life of God Nicodemus.  This is your journey Nicodemus, to come into God's life. To ride the wind of the spirit, to get your hands and feet busy working in God's kingdom, to get your hands and feet dirty doing the work of God.
That Nicodemus begins his journey at night is fitting. He will travel over time from this darkness into a place of light. We don't know anything about the particulars of his journey. We don't know the conversations he may have had with any of the disciples, or of any further conversations with Jesus.  We don't know if he went home and pored over the Torah, stayed up late in the evening pondering what Jesus said to him. We don't know if he was awakened by dreams from God or was troubled by voices and visions about Jesus when awake. We do know that later in the Gospel of John when Jesus is arrested, Nicodemus comes to his defense.  Nicodemus advises his colleagues to hear and investigate for themselves before making a final judgement against Jesus.  He invites them to take their own journey into the truth. After the crucifixion Nicodemus risks the wrath of both the Jewish and the Roman powers to assist Joseph of Arimathea in preparing Jesus' body for burial.  
Nicodemus has taken quite a trip!  From a learned and respected member of the religious elite to a servant body washer.  It's a trip we are all expected to make in our own way, in our own context.  No, we cannot prepare the physical body of Jesus for burial, that's over and done with.  But we can walk our own journey of discovery, our own journey into God's life.  Nicodemus arrived at journey's end when he was able to risk everything to work with Joseph of Arimathea. We will arrive at journey's end when we are able to embody Psalm 121; when we are able to be one another's keepers, able to be one another's shade, to guard one another's going out and coming in.  The result of our Lenten journey, indeed the end result of our travels into God's life, the proof of our being born from above, is that we have allowed the wind to blow us out of here into the world that desperately needs hope and care. Thanks to the incarnation and crucifixion of Jesus, thanks to the gift of grace through the Holy Spirit, we are the hands and feet of God.  We journey into the light, and bring light into the world, with our witness and our service.  Amen.

Lent 1 March 9, 2014: I Can Do It Myself

Any of us who have been around a preschooler have had this exchange:
“I can do it.”
 “Well, let me give you a hand”---
“NO, I CAN DO IT MYSELF!”
It’s a step in the natural development of a child’s growth to go through the I CAN DO IT MYSELF stage.
Between the ages of 3 and 5—basically preschool age—children begin exploring and then trying to assert control and power over their environment. According to Child Development expert Erik Erikson’s, success in this stage of life gives children a sense of purpose while failure results in a child exerting too much power, bringing on adult disapproval and leaving the child with a latent sense of guilt.
In other words, children between the ages of 3 and 5 are testing the limits of their own power. And the job of the adults around the child is to patiently listen to the tantrums that naturally occur and then soothe the child saying, “I know you don’t like this now, but one day you’ll understand.”

Today’s reading from Genesis is The Story of Humankind’s Fall. As a professor of Hebrew Scripture at Princeton  puts it: “[This reading] is less about explaining the origin of sin and more about describing the reality of what it is to be human and our mysterious human tendencies to rebel against God, to resist the gracious boundaries and limitations God places around us for our own good, and to desire to be like God.”
The story of the first humans falling away from God is the foundational story of how we, like pre-schoolers, want to do everything on our own, without assistance, without limits. When we fail to let God set some limits on us, we get into trouble, we forget that we are the children and God is the wise and loving parent who says, “I know you don’t understand now, but one day you will.”
Our readings today deal with that most Lenten of topics:  the down n’ dirty reality of what it is to be human.
In Genesis, Adam and Eve are wooed by the serpent’s tempting words, and as a result they unleash a desire for more power.
In Romans, Paul describes Adam as the carrier and unleasher of the disease called sin and Jesus as the vaccine against it.
Sin is a disease and Jesus is the antidote. I love that!
  The conflict between our desire to be all that God created us to be and our desire to be fully independent and self-reliant with no need for help from God (or anyone else for that matter) is nicely summarized later in Romans when Paul states, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” (Romans 7:15). I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate---for me that's the quintessential definition of sin.
Turning away from God, engaging in things that carry us farther from God, isn’t what we want to do, but it ends up being what we do "do."
In today’s gospel the devil—the evil one-- tries to tempt Jesus into giving into the temptation for more power and glory,  but he doesn't  succumb. Now it’s easy to brush this off as Jesus’ divinity, outweighing His humanity. That He saw the devil’s tricks and didn’t fall for them. But to assume this is, I think, insulting to Jesus the man.
Jesus didn’t give into the temptation because he didn’t feel it---he felt it as powerfully as any of us would--- but because he was strong enough, open enough, trusting enough, he didn't give in. Giving in would be to deny God’s love and Jesus --both in his humanity and his divinity--just wouldn’t do it.
  Jesus was human in every way, except he didn't sin.
Now for a lot of us sin is a tough word, but understand it as God does-- not us being “bad” but us being stubborn and child like. To sin is to forget God, to turn away from God, to insist that we can do it ourselves!
From the wilderness to the cross, in the most desperate times imaginable, Jesus never turned away from God. He never shut God out.
We, on the other-hand, shut God out all the time. When we stop making space for God to work within us and through us, we're shutting God out, refusing God's help, leaving us frustrated, lost, lonely and empty.
And that's when we get into trouble.
 Because, in our I CAN DO IT MYSELF MENTALITY of forgetting God and forging ahead on our own, we distance ourselves; leaving an ever-widening chasm between us and God. The pain of this chasm is so intense we seek to bridge it, to fill it with all sorts of things. Things to distract us from the pervasive sense of loneliness that living without God brings into our souls.
 These distractions block God—which is why we engage in Lenten fasts.
The goal of a fast isn’t to make us miserable, the goal is to get us quiet enough, focused enough, open enough to notice God, to trust God and to invite God in.
By fasting from earthly distraction: from clutter and filler we come face to face with a holy emptiness. An emptiness, a void that allows God the palate, the clean slate, the welcoming soul God uses to do wondrous things with us, God’s beloved children.
So I encourage you to spend these forty days getting really needy. Not needy for the stuff of this world, not distracted by the wants of our temporal life, but needy for, longing for, a Divine filler, a Holy distraction, a Loving presence.
When we tap into THAT need, when we empty ourselves of distraction clutter and filler we’ll discover something truly amazing: that empty space deep within us, that chasm of loneliness, anxiety and fear which we strive to fill with everything but God? It will be filled to overflowing by our Loving Creator who knows that in spite of our limit-testing, in spite of our stubborn cries of I CAN DO IT MYSELF, we will, one day understand.+

Ash Wednesday 2014 "What About those Ashes?"

Some of you probably saw my Facebook post from last night. I posted a picture of our own Eyob Marshall with a cross of ashes on his forehead. (8 yr old parishioner who attends the 10:30 service with his mother Kelly). Eyob knew that he wouldn’t be able to attend Ash Wednesday services but he, as is his style, had questions. So last night, as he got ready to leave the pancake supper Eyob came up to me and asked, “what’s with these ashes? I don’t understand.”
What a great question, right?
And you know what?
In over six years of ordained ministry no one-- NO ONE-- has ever asked me what Ash Wednesday was all about. And I don’t think that’s because everyone knows what’s with these ashes… I think we just don’t think about it all that much.
So what IS with these ashes?
Ash Wednesday is a day in our church year reserved for our humanity. Our utter and complete and thorough humanity.
Ash Wednesday is a day when that humanity is spread out in front of us. In all it’s dustiness.
Ash Wednesday is a day to remember that without God, all that we are---all the stuff that makes us uniquely us----is nothing but dust. Ash Wednesday is a day to remember that Without God we are empty, we are dull, we are without substance.
Without God we are just dust.
Ash Wednesday marks the first day of Lent and Lent is a forty day journey when we strive  to open ourselves to God, to re-engage in a relationship with God.
Lent is a journey from us to God and back again. Lent is a season for getting to know God and inviting God to get to know us.
On Ash Wednesday we open our dustiness to the cleansing grace of God. It’s the first day of our Lenten trek to Easter, a journey to intentionally show God more than just the spit and polish shiny “us” of Sundays, a journey where we expose God to the fullness of who we are--from the glorious, prayerful and committed Christian parts of us to the darker, more doubting, more despairing, more self-loathing, yes even more sinful and wretched parts of us.
So what about these ashes?
Well as I told Eyob, when these ashes are pressed into your skin, remember this: without God, we are nothing but dust.
But with God?
Well with God we are all that we can dream, all that we can imagine, all that we can long for.
And then some.

A well-done Lent allows God plenty of room and plenty of time to get to know us, the good the bad and the ugly.
A well-done Lent allows us to get to know God—the forgiving, loving and delighted God who wants nothing more than to meet us with joy at the empty tomb.
A well-done Lent begins with the dust of our mortality and ends in the resurrection light of Love on Easter morning.
 A well-done Lent is forty days of making room for the God who creates amazing, astounding and wonderful things out of dust. The dust of you and the dust of me.
So as those dusty ashes are pressed into your skin tonight remember that while you are but dust, you can be, you will be and you are, so very much more, thanks be to God.
May these forty days be a dust clearing, hope starting, love expressing journey into a deeper more honest relationship with our Creator, a God, who working in us can do so much more than we can ever ask or imagine.
Amen.

March 2 2014 Transfigured through Baptism

+As has become my custom, whenever we have a baptism at one of our three services, the sermon for that day is in the form of a letter to the baptized. Today is one such day as we baptized Donovan John Drexinger at the 8 am service.
Dear Donovan,
Your folks picked a GREAT day to have you baptized. Today, as we get ready for the simplicity and starkness of Lent we pull out all the stops—[great music], lots of alleluias and our fanciest, shiniest vestments. Today is an explosion of excess before we settle into Lent. We were planning a party anyway, but now, with your baptism, we get to REALLY celebrate!
Now, one day, when you're a little older, you may look back and say "I was baptized on the feast of the Transfiguration?  Sounds painful, what in the world is a transfiguration?"
Well Donovan, you're not alone. Most people don't quite get it.
Actually, what happened to Jesus, while a little strange, was also pretty cool. It was toward the end of his ministry, he's told his friends that the end was near, that soon he'd stand face to face with the temple and Roman authorities in Jerusalem. His friends didn't want him to go and more than a few of them were TERRIFIED to follow Jesus. But because they were his very good friends, they agreed to go with him. On the way to Jerusalem they stopped for a rest and, as was his custom, Jesus readied himself to go up the mountain to pray. But instead of going alone, as he usually did, Jesus asked three of his best friends, Peter, James and John to go with him. So they walked to the top of Mount Tabor and got ready to pray. Suddenly a cloud or a flash or a sheet of light---something really bright and pretty darn impressive---completely covered Jesus. He looked totally different. And then, as if that wasn't enough weirdness, suddenly two really old (and by the way, very dead) prophets, that is teachers who had lived many years before Jesus, Moses and Elijah, appear next to him. Having the two of them there makes sense; Moses had his own face transfigured when he received the Ten Commandments from God on top of another mountain (Sinai) and Elijah? Well Elijah was always getting up close and personal with God and each and every time Elijah had an experience with God, an experience of God, he was changed. Transformed. And transfigured.
Just like all of us here today.
You see that's the point of church, it's the point of learning from Jesus, it's the point of accepting---of embracing--- God's love in our lives. When we do this, when we engage in a community of faith, when we listen to Jesus, when we love our God, we are CHANGED.
Each and every time.
Usually it's not as dramatic as what happened to Jesus and Moses and Elijah, but it's still change, and it still happens. ALL THE TIME.
That change is going to be invited into your life today. That change is going to be acknowledged and re-invited into the lives of everyone here today, as well.
Because baptism--- and the renewal of our baptismal vows---transfigures, transforms and changes us.
Now never say never, but I'm pretty sure, as the baptismal waters pour over you, we won't hear God's voice, nor will you be shrouded in a dazzling white array of light. However--- and this is soooo important, Donovan, God will speak and light will fill you....from the top of your red head to the bottom of your little feet.....because God's Love is all over this church this morning. It's in the smiles of your mom and dad, your godparents, your grandparents, the rest of your family, friends and everyone here….and those smiles, that love, this happiness, is God.
Today we celebrate that you are a member of God's family and you are God's Beloved. Now and always. The baptism we're about to do is the outward and public demonstration of the inward and personal grace that God bestowed on you as soon as you were you.
It's what God does with all of God's creation. God LOVES all that God has created including you and me and everyone. God loves us always and forever.
No exceptions.
In a few minutes, right before we pour that holy water over you, before we mark and seal you as Christ's own forever, everyone here will make a bunch of promises. We'll promise to love God with all our heart and mind and soul. We'll promise to trust God in all things (although I'll let you in on a little secret, we forget  that ALL THE TIME) , we'll promise to apologize when we make mistakes, we'll promise to love our neighbors and we'll promise to respect the dignity of every single human being always and forever.
No exceptions!
When we do this, when we make those promises and when we welcome a new member of our church family--that's you--we are changed. It's one of the greatest things about our faith: every time we exercise our faith, that is every time we stand up against injustice, every time we reach out a hand to the neglected, the abused and the forgotten, every time we make sure this earth is given the care and nurturing God has asked us to give it, every single time we love someone even when we don't like them all that much, every time we welcome someone new through our doors,  we are transfigured, transformed and transported closer to the image God has for us and closer to the world Jesus dreamed of: a world of peace, a world of love and a world of equality.
Today, because of your baptism, we are reminded that no matter how far we fall, no matter how lost we become, no matter how twisted up in worry and fear and doubt we become, we can always return to this altar, to this community and to this faith; where, through the transfiguring Love of God we will be smoothed out, reshaped, and formed more and more into the image of Christ. (Lectionary Lab for March 2 2014)
So thank you, thank you for offering us the perfect way to commemorate the Transfiguration of Jesus, by welcoming you into our family and by renewing our own commitment to enter the love of God, where anything, absolutely anything is possible.
Amen.