Jo, are you the same person you were 28 years ago? 14 years ago? 7 Years ago? How about you Char? Or you, Charlie?
No, you are not. None of us are. Researchers at Stanford tell us that “every one of us completely regenerates our own skin every 7 days. A cut heals itself and disappears in a week or two. Every single cell in our skeleton is replaced every 7 years.” And, that’s just the physical transformation that we all undergo. We also know that we change emotionally, we mature, we fall in love, we suffer great losses. We change spiritually, as time goes by we understand more clearly the need we have to walk through this life in the company of Jesus. So for us, transfiguration, transformation is a constant, sometimes un-noticed, sometimes fearful process. We are all about change, every day, every way, even though we are not always aware of it.
Today is Transfiguration Sunday. Jesus takes Peter, James and John up to the mountain top with him where they are joined by Moses and Elijah. When Jesus is transfigured, it is spectacular, sudden and dramatic; it is definitely not a 7 day or 7 year process. Poor Peter, he is, as he frequently is, unable to find the right words for the event. Just before today’s Gospel Jesus tries to tell his disciples that he must suffer many things, be rejected and then be killed. Peter begins to correct him and Jesus utters those famous words: Get behind me Satan. You are not thinking God’s thoughts but human thoughts. Here on the mountain Peter once again misses the point; he wants the moment to last, wants this special, mystical, supernatural event to be somehow contained and made familiar, so he offers to make three shrines for Moses, Elijah and Jesus. Peter is thinking human thoughts. This time Peter is not rebuked, he is ignored, no one responds to him. I don’t know about you, but I would much rather be rebuked than ignored. The message here is that Peter is so far from the mark that no response can be made. The point of the Transfiguration is that Jesus is human AND divine; Peter, James and John are being given a glimpse of Christ’s mystical body, a body that most certainly does not belong in a Shrine. They have been given a view of transcendence, and it cannot, will not be made ordinary.
Every year, on the last Sunday of the Epiphany we get the Transfiguration story. It is the hinge between the end of Epiphany and Lent. The first 8 chapters of Mark are chock full of events, everything in Mark moves at a rapid pace. It is one miracle, one healing, one exorcism, one exchange with temple leaders, one teaching moment after the next. The whole season of Epiphany, the season of ‘showing’, of ‘manifestation’ is meant to show us the light of God through the face and works of Jesus. It culminates today, as Jesus becomes transformed and dazzling. And, as spectacular as this is, we need to remember that on the mountain top Jesus did not become something new, something different, something he was not already. “Peter, James and John are given a chance to see Jesus as he already is, as he really is. They see the light of his divinity shining through his humanity, the same humanity he shares with all of us.”
The three disciples are rescued from all of the brightness when they are overshadowed by a cloud. But, don’t be fooled, the strangeness continues. They hear a voice from the cloud saying “this is my Son, whom I dearly love, listen to him. By now, Peter, James and John have seen and experienced enough of Jesus to believe that he is the Son of God. After all, who else could have done all of the things they have witnessed: calming the sea, walking on water, feeding thousands from a handful of fish and a few loaves, and even raising the dead. They have been privileged to hear Jesus speak to crowds and also to have been taught by Him in small groups. But….they are being told that now it is time to really listen.
God knows that when Jesus told the disciples in chapter 8 of Mark that in order to truly be his disciples they must pick up the cross and follow, they didn’t really listen. Really listening is not passive, really listening requires action. Listening to Jesus means that what Jesus said and did makes a difference in our lives and that we are making a difference in the lives of others. It means “hear, see and act”.
As we near Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent, let us reflect often on how we can listen, how we can hear, see and act so that others can come to know Jesus through us. Following Jesus is not about being stronger, wiser, better than, more powerful than; it is about service. We are not transformed physically, emotionally or spiritually so that we can be bright shiny beings high upon some mountain top. We are transformed by the love of God so that we can come down from the mountain and feed the hungry, visit the lonely, and clothe the poor. We have the food pantry, we have the pet food pantry, we are really good at collections and donations. How else can we transform the lives of others?
The season of Epiphany is over, we have been shown the light of Christ being made manifest in the world. The season of Lent is upon us, we will walk with Jesus the way of the cross. If we give them the chance, Epiphany and Lent will transform us and our transformation will make a difference in the world. AMEN.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Monday, February 9, 2015
Epiphany 5 Feb 8, 2015 yr B We Plan, God Laughs
We plan, God laughs.
Again. And Again. And Again.
My week has not gone according to plan. Now I think most of you know that I am VERY distractible, what some call being “stimulus bound,” so very often, even though I have my day carefully scheduled out, the schedule doesn’t get followed.
It’s completely foreign to me when someone tells me that they’ll be working on such and such a project from 4-6:30 pm next Tuesday…and then they actually do! So, while I may have a touch of the ol’ ADD… the reality is, “Life is what happens when we’re busy making plans.”
Life happens.
I have a to do list that I am working my way through when the phone rings and I drop everything because a parishioner is in need, or the phone rings and I am told that my mom is desperately ill so I drop everything and fly to Chicago for three weeks, or the power goes out, the fire alarms go off, the snow blower breaks, my office ceiling starts to collapse, the food pantry needs help or, or, or, or…..
Predictability isn’t a strong suit of these jobs I have.
yet what I know is that I am not in the least bit unique. This happens to many of us. A lot. We have good intentions, exquisite plans, a stunning to do list.
And then, life happens.
In today’s Gospel, “life happened” to Jesus. Capernaum, was a pretty busy place with a lot of people in a not very large area.
We could call it the Buffalo of first century Galilee—you could get just about everywhere in 20 minutes. For reference, consider where we sit right now the synagogue; the Sea of Galilee was about 2 blocks down the road and Peter and Andrew’s home was about as close as the Darwin Martin House is to us.
So, to set the scene, Jesus has just wrapped up worship in the synagogue where he’s healed a man from demonic possession, Jesus is taking the short walk across the street to Simon Peter’s house for dinner and, hopefully, some downtime.
He must need it right? Look at what’s happened so far in the first chapter of Mark---
Jesus has been baptized by John; thrust into the wilderness for forty days, thrust out of the wilderness and into his ministry due to John’s arrest and imprisonment; he’s called Andrew, Peter, John and James, and is establishing himself in his new “hometown,” Capernaum. All in 39 verses! Phew!
My guess is that as he strolled over to the house he was thinking---hoping, longing?---that this crowd of people at the synagogue would go home—to their home, and give him a chance to catch his breath….but….his plans, his hopes, his wishes, his desires, whatever it was he was planning on doing at Simon Peter’s house, doesn’t happen because, of course, Peter’s mother-in-law is sick---really sick.
So of course, Jesus heals her. He does what needs to be done, regardless of his best laid plans. And then, before he can say “hey, what’s for dinner,” half of Capernaum is lining up to get healed by this preacher man. And, of course, he goes ahead and heals them, accepting the change in plans and helping out. And then, the next day, after going to that deserted place to pray, Peter arrives, clearly annoyed that he had to waste all that time searching for Jesus, and pulls Jesus out of his planned and no doubt needed solitude to attend to the throngs of people seeking him.
Can’t the guy catch a break?
But, Jesus doesn’t snap, he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t complain. Jesus simply gets up and goes to where he perceives he’s being called to go.
This doesn’t mean that he wasn’t frustrated, or annoyed or mad, it means that he realized something we all can benefit from realizing:
While distractions may take us away from what we think we need to be doing, even what we want to be doing, they don’t take us away from God. As a matter of fact, God is there, smack dab in the middle of the distraction. God is in the distraction. That doesn’t mean God isn’t in our carefully laid out plans, what it does it mean is that God is also in the distractions, the change of plans, the interruptions.
I think for a lot of us, the distractions of life can feel like catastrophic derailments ….especially in our faith lives………”well I meant to pray every morning and every evening but this and that happened and I didn’t. I’m such a failure
Or
“I signed up for a committee, a job, a role at church and then I forgot about it, or I was late, or I made a mistake while I was doing it, so I can’t show my face there again. I messed up, there’s no going back.”
What the readings this week tell us is this---none of that is true. It may feel accurate, it may seem true, but it’s not.
God doesn’t have a scorecard about who stays on task and who doesn’t.
God, as Isaiah puts it in our first reading, God is in everything. God sees everything, God knows everything, God is truly in our going out and in our coming in. So God knows our intent, and God knows our desire.
And, as our psalmist phrases it, there is no limit to God’s wisdom….so trust that God knows we aren’t distracted because we reject God, we get distracted because. …well because life happens. The life God created, gave to us and lives with us.
And as Jesus so brilliantly exhibits in today’s Gospel….if you intended to pray, if you intended to volunteer to help out at church, if you intended to finish your to do list, but things—life---got in the way? Give yourself a break. Because God? God is right there with you, in the midst of all those distractions, detours and changes of plan.
Every single time.
We plan, God laughs. And on we go. Amen.
Again. And Again. And Again.
My week has not gone according to plan. Now I think most of you know that I am VERY distractible, what some call being “stimulus bound,” so very often, even though I have my day carefully scheduled out, the schedule doesn’t get followed.
It’s completely foreign to me when someone tells me that they’ll be working on such and such a project from 4-6:30 pm next Tuesday…and then they actually do! So, while I may have a touch of the ol’ ADD… the reality is, “Life is what happens when we’re busy making plans.”
Life happens.
I have a to do list that I am working my way through when the phone rings and I drop everything because a parishioner is in need, or the phone rings and I am told that my mom is desperately ill so I drop everything and fly to Chicago for three weeks, or the power goes out, the fire alarms go off, the snow blower breaks, my office ceiling starts to collapse, the food pantry needs help or, or, or, or…..
Predictability isn’t a strong suit of these jobs I have.
yet what I know is that I am not in the least bit unique. This happens to many of us. A lot. We have good intentions, exquisite plans, a stunning to do list.
And then, life happens.
In today’s Gospel, “life happened” to Jesus. Capernaum, was a pretty busy place with a lot of people in a not very large area.
We could call it the Buffalo of first century Galilee—you could get just about everywhere in 20 minutes. For reference, consider where we sit right now the synagogue; the Sea of Galilee was about 2 blocks down the road and Peter and Andrew’s home was about as close as the Darwin Martin House is to us.
So, to set the scene, Jesus has just wrapped up worship in the synagogue where he’s healed a man from demonic possession, Jesus is taking the short walk across the street to Simon Peter’s house for dinner and, hopefully, some downtime.
He must need it right? Look at what’s happened so far in the first chapter of Mark---
Jesus has been baptized by John; thrust into the wilderness for forty days, thrust out of the wilderness and into his ministry due to John’s arrest and imprisonment; he’s called Andrew, Peter, John and James, and is establishing himself in his new “hometown,” Capernaum. All in 39 verses! Phew!
My guess is that as he strolled over to the house he was thinking---hoping, longing?---that this crowd of people at the synagogue would go home—to their home, and give him a chance to catch his breath….but….his plans, his hopes, his wishes, his desires, whatever it was he was planning on doing at Simon Peter’s house, doesn’t happen because, of course, Peter’s mother-in-law is sick---really sick.
So of course, Jesus heals her. He does what needs to be done, regardless of his best laid plans. And then, before he can say “hey, what’s for dinner,” half of Capernaum is lining up to get healed by this preacher man. And, of course, he goes ahead and heals them, accepting the change in plans and helping out. And then, the next day, after going to that deserted place to pray, Peter arrives, clearly annoyed that he had to waste all that time searching for Jesus, and pulls Jesus out of his planned and no doubt needed solitude to attend to the throngs of people seeking him.
Can’t the guy catch a break?
But, Jesus doesn’t snap, he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t complain. Jesus simply gets up and goes to where he perceives he’s being called to go.
This doesn’t mean that he wasn’t frustrated, or annoyed or mad, it means that he realized something we all can benefit from realizing:
While distractions may take us away from what we think we need to be doing, even what we want to be doing, they don’t take us away from God. As a matter of fact, God is there, smack dab in the middle of the distraction. God is in the distraction. That doesn’t mean God isn’t in our carefully laid out plans, what it does it mean is that God is also in the distractions, the change of plans, the interruptions.
I think for a lot of us, the distractions of life can feel like catastrophic derailments ….especially in our faith lives………”well I meant to pray every morning and every evening but this and that happened and I didn’t. I’m such a failure
Or
“I signed up for a committee, a job, a role at church and then I forgot about it, or I was late, or I made a mistake while I was doing it, so I can’t show my face there again. I messed up, there’s no going back.”
What the readings this week tell us is this---none of that is true. It may feel accurate, it may seem true, but it’s not.
God doesn’t have a scorecard about who stays on task and who doesn’t.
God, as Isaiah puts it in our first reading, God is in everything. God sees everything, God knows everything, God is truly in our going out and in our coming in. So God knows our intent, and God knows our desire.
And, as our psalmist phrases it, there is no limit to God’s wisdom….so trust that God knows we aren’t distracted because we reject God, we get distracted because. …well because life happens. The life God created, gave to us and lives with us.
And as Jesus so brilliantly exhibits in today’s Gospel….if you intended to pray, if you intended to volunteer to help out at church, if you intended to finish your to do list, but things—life---got in the way? Give yourself a break. Because God? God is right there with you, in the midst of all those distractions, detours and changes of plan.
Every single time.
We plan, God laughs. And on we go. Amen.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
The Presentation (tr) 1 Feb 2015 Do You See what They See?
+It’s loud. It’s smelly. It’s crowded. There’s nothing about temple worship in the first century that would draw a small town family to undertake the two-day trip into the maze that is Jerusalem, other than duty. As an observant Jew in the first century it’s just what you did.
So, Joseph and Mary—on the 40th day after the birth of Jesus---travel to the temple so Mary can be “purified,” and Jesus, their first born son, can be presented to God.
They did what was expected, what was usual, what was normal.
But, once they got there, once they entered the temple, there was nothing expected, nothing usual, nothing normal, ever again.
Because, once they arrive at the temple, Jesus is recognized.
Not in the “ohmygoshMaryhelooksexactlylike your fatherdidasababy” kind of way…no Jesus is recognized for who he truly is:
A light to enlighten the nations, to bring glory back to the people of Israel. A savior. The Savior. The one Simeon had been waiting for. The one Anna had been waiting for. The one Isaiah longed for, the one Abraham was promised would come.
That one, the one was here!!
And good ol’ Simeon and nutty ol’ Anna saw him, recognized him and praised him.
Do we?
The Christmas story, in many ways, reaches it’s conclusion today.
Because today the story that began with Gabriel’s visit to Mary and then Joseph, the story of no room at the inn, the story of a choir of heavenly hosts shouting “Glory Hallelujah” to the shepherds tending their flocks in the fields at night, the story of that wild star guiding the magi from the far east to worship at the edge of the crib…that story, this story, our story reaches it’s conclusion….the birth narrative ends.
Christmas has left the building, one story ends and another begins.
Today, on this 40th day after Christmas, today, on this 17th day before the first day of Lent, today, just about two months before Easter we begin a new chapter in the story of who we are, of who we were born to be.
Today we take one more definitive step toward what Simeon was singing about in today’s Gospel: God’s love has come down to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Just as God had promised.
Today is all about recognizing the rest of the story.
Today is about recognizing that God came to live among us, as one of us, for us.
Today is about recognizing that choosing to follow this God in the flesh is not the easy choice.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ in all that we do, that seeking and serving Christ in all whom we encounter will, at times, pierce our heart.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ means we’ll be destined to do and say things that others will find disgusting, abhorrent and just plain wrong.
Today is about recognizing that loving God with all our heart, mind and soul is and will be messy, difficult and frightening.
Today is about committing ourselves to join Mary in walking out of this temple, noticing where Christ is at work in the world, and where Christ’s work is needed in the world.
Today is about noticing, recognizing, embracing and doing what needs to be done. Today it’s our turn.
The Christmas story is bookended by song. Mary’s Song and Simeon’s are similar in celebrating who Jesus is, what Jesus will become and how we are to follow Jesus into changing this world, one peaceful and loving encounter at a time into a place where the weak are strengthened, the lost are found, the lonely are embraced, the destitute are enriched and the hated are loved.
Today we are called to follow Mary and Joseph’s boy, to recognize Christ at work in the world, to be Christ at work in this world. Not just inside these familiar and comforting doors, but out there in the unpredictable and not always welcoming world.
You see, the world? The world doesn’t expect us to take the lessons we learn within these walls and carry them with us everywhere we go and in everything we do.
The world out there expects us to keep our faith, our worship, our Love of the Lord, encased.
In many ways, we aren’t that different from Mary and Joseph. There are things that we, as Christians, as people of faith, are just expected to do. We have our babies baptized, we have our loved ones buried, we donate our time our talent and our treasure to this place. We help out in the food pantries, we visit the sick, we pray for each other. And all of that, all of that is very good. And, frankly, it’s pretty safe. But today we are called to recognize that the work of Christ isn’t in here, it’s out there.
We’re at a turning point in our church life, in our diocesan life in our regional life. The Bishop preached about it on epiphany, he preached about it last week at the Cathedral, he wrote about it in his response to Ferguson, and in his joint pastoral letter with Bishop Malone. The message is clear: For the church to remain relevant in the 21st century, for the church to make a difference in the world today and tomorrow, for the church to fulfill the dream of God as given to us in the person of Jesus Christ, we, the church, must be willing to do something different. Something new. Something unfamiliar.
Today represents a turning point, not only in our church year, but in our church and faith life.
The trail, thus far has been sweet. We’ve had angels singing, sheep baaing and babies cooing. But today, if we choose to follow the trail of Mary and Joseph, of Anna and Simeon, of all the heroes of our faith, we’ll leave that all behind and set our eyes on all that we have left to do.
The journey we embark on today, the journey toward Calvary, the journey toward the cross, the journey into death and out again isn’t sweet and it isn’t easy…but, if we, like Simeon and Anna recognize Christ and if we, like the apostles, follow Christ then we, each and every one of us, will be set wonderfully and eternally free. Amen.
So, Joseph and Mary—on the 40th day after the birth of Jesus---travel to the temple so Mary can be “purified,” and Jesus, their first born son, can be presented to God.
They did what was expected, what was usual, what was normal.
But, once they got there, once they entered the temple, there was nothing expected, nothing usual, nothing normal, ever again.
Because, once they arrive at the temple, Jesus is recognized.
Not in the “ohmygoshMaryhelooksexactlylike your fatherdidasababy” kind of way…no Jesus is recognized for who he truly is:
A light to enlighten the nations, to bring glory back to the people of Israel. A savior. The Savior. The one Simeon had been waiting for. The one Anna had been waiting for. The one Isaiah longed for, the one Abraham was promised would come.
That one, the one was here!!
And good ol’ Simeon and nutty ol’ Anna saw him, recognized him and praised him.
Do we?
The Christmas story, in many ways, reaches it’s conclusion today.
Because today the story that began with Gabriel’s visit to Mary and then Joseph, the story of no room at the inn, the story of a choir of heavenly hosts shouting “Glory Hallelujah” to the shepherds tending their flocks in the fields at night, the story of that wild star guiding the magi from the far east to worship at the edge of the crib…that story, this story, our story reaches it’s conclusion….the birth narrative ends.
Christmas has left the building, one story ends and another begins.
Today, on this 40th day after Christmas, today, on this 17th day before the first day of Lent, today, just about two months before Easter we begin a new chapter in the story of who we are, of who we were born to be.
Today we take one more definitive step toward what Simeon was singing about in today’s Gospel: God’s love has come down to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Just as God had promised.
Today is all about recognizing the rest of the story.
Today is about recognizing that God came to live among us, as one of us, for us.
Today is about recognizing that choosing to follow this God in the flesh is not the easy choice.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ in all that we do, that seeking and serving Christ in all whom we encounter will, at times, pierce our heart.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ means we’ll be destined to do and say things that others will find disgusting, abhorrent and just plain wrong.
Today is about recognizing that loving God with all our heart, mind and soul is and will be messy, difficult and frightening.
Today is about committing ourselves to join Mary in walking out of this temple, noticing where Christ is at work in the world, and where Christ’s work is needed in the world.
Today is about noticing, recognizing, embracing and doing what needs to be done. Today it’s our turn.
The Christmas story is bookended by song. Mary’s Song and Simeon’s are similar in celebrating who Jesus is, what Jesus will become and how we are to follow Jesus into changing this world, one peaceful and loving encounter at a time into a place where the weak are strengthened, the lost are found, the lonely are embraced, the destitute are enriched and the hated are loved.
Today we are called to follow Mary and Joseph’s boy, to recognize Christ at work in the world, to be Christ at work in this world. Not just inside these familiar and comforting doors, but out there in the unpredictable and not always welcoming world.
You see, the world? The world doesn’t expect us to take the lessons we learn within these walls and carry them with us everywhere we go and in everything we do.
The world out there expects us to keep our faith, our worship, our Love of the Lord, encased.
In many ways, we aren’t that different from Mary and Joseph. There are things that we, as Christians, as people of faith, are just expected to do. We have our babies baptized, we have our loved ones buried, we donate our time our talent and our treasure to this place. We help out in the food pantries, we visit the sick, we pray for each other. And all of that, all of that is very good. And, frankly, it’s pretty safe. But today we are called to recognize that the work of Christ isn’t in here, it’s out there.
We’re at a turning point in our church life, in our diocesan life in our regional life. The Bishop preached about it on epiphany, he preached about it last week at the Cathedral, he wrote about it in his response to Ferguson, and in his joint pastoral letter with Bishop Malone. The message is clear: For the church to remain relevant in the 21st century, for the church to make a difference in the world today and tomorrow, for the church to fulfill the dream of God as given to us in the person of Jesus Christ, we, the church, must be willing to do something different. Something new. Something unfamiliar.
Today represents a turning point, not only in our church year, but in our church and faith life.
The trail, thus far has been sweet. We’ve had angels singing, sheep baaing and babies cooing. But today, if we choose to follow the trail of Mary and Joseph, of Anna and Simeon, of all the heroes of our faith, we’ll leave that all behind and set our eyes on all that we have left to do.
The journey we embark on today, the journey toward Calvary, the journey toward the cross, the journey into death and out again isn’t sweet and it isn’t easy…but, if we, like Simeon and Anna recognize Christ and if we, like the apostles, follow Christ then we, each and every one of us, will be set wonderfully and eternally free. Amen.
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