Pray for others and be healed! Proper 21 year B Baptism at Calvary Episcopal Sept 27, 2015

+I am happy to be with you this morning and I bring you greetings from my two parishes in the City of Buffalo, Good Shepherd and Ascension.
I was so happy to take the services at Calvary today—especially so because we have a baptism! Who doesn’t love a baptism—we get to make a new Christian!
But then I read the gospel for today. Oh boy, where’s the good news for a baptism in that? It’s not what I would call, uplifting…
  At this point of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is a bundle of nerves ….he’s trying to get his disciples to know the reality of what’s going to happen once they arrive in Jerusalem. He’s trying to get his followers to accept that the only way Jesus’ mission on earth can be fulfilled is for him to be crucified, die, buried and then rise again after three days.
It’s a convoluted message he’s teaching and the disciples want
NO PART OF IT.
 They expected a King in the usual sense of the word, not a King in the God sense of the word….so they’re resisting Jesus’ message, rejecting the truth and trying to distract Jesus from harping on his prediction of death. So Jesus gets blunt and reels off a litany of what should be done to those who don’t truly believe. It’s an interesting Gospel to remember when the Biblical Literalists of our world start proselytizing---they seem to ignore these lines about cutting off hands and feet if we stumble in the work of the Lord. Keep these verses in your pocket and engage in debate with one of those holier than thou people….it could be fun!
But seriously, what Jesus is doing is drawing a line in the sand---he’s saying, “being a follower of mine isn’t glamorous, nor is it easy, or safe.” Following the way of Jesus Christ makes us counter-cultural and annoying to those who’d rather keep the status quo of economic, racial and gender inequality in our world. Jesus is saying, “you can’t just talk the talk, folks, you must walk the walk…” and if you’re discovered to be doing a lot of talking without the walking? Well, then you’re a hypocrite and will have any number of horrid things befall you. Jesus’ words are harsh, but his message is clear. Don’t say you believe unless you do believe and are willing to do whatever it takes to bring my message of light and love and justice to all forever, no exceptions.
That’s what the Gospel is telling us this morning.
And really it isn’t a bad gospel to have on a day when we welcome a new Christian into the fold of this storied parish church. It’s good for Madelyn [who will be baptized at 10 am], her parents and godparents to know this thing about being a Christian ---it isn’t easy! It can even be dangerous. It’s good to know just what we will be promising Madelyn: a life rich with blessing, a life brimming with love and a life that, if lived into the full stature of Christ, will be one that will also include heartache, loneliness and at times risk. [now don’t think your off the hook at the 8---because as the congregation makes the promise  to do all in their power to support Madelyn in her life in Christ, they are making those promises for you, too, in abstentia.] Yes, the entire parish family of Calvary—the 4 pm’ers, the 8 am’ers and the 10 am’ers---welcomes Madelyn today
and with her baptism you assume the great privilege of doing all in your to support Madelyn in her life in Christ.
Because you see, none of us can live this Christian life in a vacuum---since the days of Jesus, the Christian way has been a journey done in community.  We need the support, the love and most of all, the PRAYERS of one another to do the work we are sent forth to do every week: to go in peace to love and serve the Lord.
This is why the reading from James, especially the second half of verse 16: pray for one another so that you may be healed is so poignant on this a day of baptism:
When we pray for others it’s not only good for them, it’s good for US. I urge you to pray for Madelyn, today and always. I urge you to pray for one another, today and always because not only do we all need prayers but the very act of praying for others strengthens our own faith, praying for others produces a peace in our soul unmatched by anything else, praying for others heals us.
How awesome is that?
Prayer is powerful, it is humbling and it is, frankly, astounding. I learned a great lesson about prayer a few years ago.
About a week before my ordination to the priesthood, I received a note from my godfather, The Rev. John Owens. Fr. Owens was an Episcopal priest who lived in Maryland, so he was a bit of a long distance Godfather for me growing up in Chicago. But in spite of the distance I always considered him to attentive, remembering birthdays, Christmas and the regular milestones of growing up. I only saw him a handful of times in my life, but heard from him regularly. In the note I received before my ordination, Fr Owens wrote this:
“My dear, I regret that poor health will keep me from being in physical attendance at the ordination but know that on that day, just as I have done every single day since June 15, 1961 (my birthday) I will pray for you.”
 For 47 years my Godfather had prayed for me.
Every single day.
I have no doubt that his daily prayers for me continued until he died and continue now from heaven.  I was astounded and humbled by his devotion.
Folks, pray for Madelyn, pray for one another. Pray for me and my parishes just as I and my parishes have prayed for you during this extended time of transition. Take your parish directory and each and every day as you say your prayers, take a page out of the directory and pray for those listed, by name. And then, prepared to be amazed, for not only will Madelyn and the other members of Calvary be strengthened through and by your prayers, so will you.
Prayer is an amazing thing. Do it, and be healed.
Amen.

God Loves Our Vulnerability Proper 20 Yr B Sept 20 2015

+I’m terrible at asking questions. A few years ago I shared with you the story of a class I had in graduate school—I was studying a form of psychotherapy that challenges our irrational fears. The assignment was to put ourselves in a public situation that we found anxiety provoking, the idea being that by “surviving” that situation we would realize how irrational our fear had been. I did very well in the class, but I must admit to not really learning the lesson very well. I can still tie myself into all kinds of knots before entering an unfamiliar situation, not because I have to be the best or the first, but because if I think people view me as incompetent I lose my mind. I feel vulnerable. And that triggers my anxiety big time.
Asking questions makes us vulnerable because to ask a question is to admit we don’t know something. And, if knowledge is, in our world, power then it follows that not knowing must indicate weakness, right? Any animal, including human beings, avoid being vulnerable because of te risk of being seen as weak. In this, the temporal world, weakness is used against us. It’s the basis of the survival of the fittest, so we rail against vulnerability at every turn.
We live in a “knowing” culture. Knowledge is The Thing. We know A LOT and we’re learning more and more all the time. So, “Knowing” is power, not knowing is weakness and admitting we don’t know is risky, counter-cultural and to many folks, unthinkable.
The disciples didn’t know and after last week’s outburst by Jesus, they’re not about to ask…

“Jesus was teaching his disciples, saying “The Human One will be delivered into human hands. They will kill him. Three days after he is killed he will rise up.’ But they didn’t understand this kind of talk, and they were afraid to ask him.”
They did not understand and they were afraid to ask him. They were confused, they were afraid and they were anxious.
You see, Christianity is pretty anxiety provoking. Think about it, this faith of ours encourages weakness. It promotes vulnerability. It’s confusing, its tenets irrational.
Christianity makes no logical sense:
a young boy from a rather unremarkable family grows up and is discovered to be the Messiah—the Son of God, the author of our salvation. A regular guy, from a regular town: The Son of God. And not only is he the Son of God he goes around TELLING people this. He’s also feeding thousands out of nothing, curing the sick, raising the dead and generally blowing everyone’s mind. Freaking them out. Scaring them.
Scaring them because who he was, what he was doing and what he was predicting would happen
didn’t make any sense…
It’s as difficult to understand now as it was then.
Jesus is spending this part of Mark’s gospel preparing his disciples for what’s to come. He’s readying them for the final trip to Jerusalem, his arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection. He’s preparing them for what we often proclaim without really thinking about: he ‘s going to die and then through his rising to life again, destroy death forever, giving each and every one of us the same promise: our bodily death doesn’t end life, it changes it. We are, by virtue of our baptism, assured of everlasting life.
We can forgive the disciples their confusion, their misunderstanding and disbelief.
What Jesus is saying still sounds ridiculous, irrational and impossible.
Yet here we are, believers in this very thing.
Do we understand it? No.
Do we have to understand it to believe it? No.
As a matter of fact understanding has nothing to do with it.
I stand before you today to admit that I don’t understand it and I can’t explain it.
Yet, each and every day I awake in sure and certain trust that what God has given us through Jesus the Christ is The Way The Truth and The Life.
Each and everyday as I live out my life I proudly, loudly and clearly proclaim,
“I believe.”
I believe in the unbelievable. I believe in the incomprehensible. I believe in the irrational. I believe in God. I believe God came to live among us as Jesus Christ. I believe Jesus was nailed to a cross and died. I believe he lay among the dead for two days and on the third day I believe he rose from that grave, exited that tomb and walked among us again.
I believe he ascended to heaven where, as part of the Holy and Undivided Trinity he walks among us still.
 I believe all of this without knowing how. But unlike my irrational belief that appearing vulnerable in an unfamiliar situation would be more than I can bear, our faith encourages our questions and our faith allows for our confusion.
Our faith expects our disbelief.
What our faith doesn’t tolerate so well, though, is failing to admit our questions, our confusion, our doubt.
This is why Jesus asks us to have faith like a child.
A child freely and openly asks the tough questions---why do people die? Why do we get sad? Why is the sky blue? Why why why why?
The author of our faith always wants us to ask why….. why is there pain and suffering in the world, why is my heart broken, why is my child ill, why is my bank account empty, why is my soul aching…
We may not get a clear and definitive answer, but we are always heard, our heartache is always His heartache and we never ever walk alone.
My prayer for us today is that we’ll approach our faith with the same innocence as the children in our midst. For it is only through the absolute open and honest vulnerability of a child that we can fully live our faith. Because when we start considering our faith from a rational adult 21st century Culture of Knowing stance, we lose the ability to simply and plainly Believe.


Our faith isn’t a faith of no questions, it’s a faith of one answer. And that one answer is God. Through God all things are possible. With God all things are doable. And from God all blessings flow.  Amen.

Dying, Living. Breaking into Wholeness. The Way of the Cross Proper 19 Sept 13, 2015

+ In so many ways this past week has been one of heartache.
• We’ve seen the body of a young Syrian refugee wash up on shore; a vivid example of the lengths people will go, the pain people will endure to move out of darkness and into light. The strength of the refugees is inspirational, and the price they pay is excruciatingly high.
• 14 years ago this very, we were all still in shock—the heartache and horror of 9/11 was raw. Life, as we knew it was changed. Forever. Any semblance of innocence and invincibility was removed by the events in Manhattan, Washington DC and Shanksville, PA. Each year, as the anniversary comes and the anniversary goes, our hearts are, once aain, pierced as we remember those who ran in while others ran out, those who knew they were going to die, but still made sure that the terrorists, at least those on Flight 93, wouldn’t take anymore than their lives…
These memories cut deep, the heartache is raw and the darkness and evil of this world is exposed for all to see.
Yet somehow, someway, 14 years after that awful Tuesday morning here we are; relatively safe, able to feel joy again. New life has emerged from that dark September day in 2001. Somehow, someway, our country has taken the depth of darkness, the height of evil, the fullness of what human beings can do to one another and have carried on.
We’re definitely different, many lives have been unnecessarily lost in our misguided revengeful reaction, but yet, here we are, worshipping and praising a good and gracious God. As a people we walked through the valley of the shadow of death and emerged on the other side.
To live fully as Christians, we must die. We must pick up our crosses---whatever ours happen to be-- and enter the darkness, the abyss, the loss and the pain. To get to Easter morning we must enter  Holy Week, we must walk the hill known as Calvary, we must stretch out our arms on the cross, we must cry out in fear, we must breathe our last, we must lay ourselves in the tomb. We must descend into death and then, AND ONLY then can we rise into the glories of resurrected life.
We must, as Jesus says, lose our lives in order to live them.
And we must do this repeatedly.
For it is only in dying that we can truly live.
It’s called The Way of the Cross.
The Dean of Christ Church Cathedral in St Louis, Mike Kinman,  and I have very similar theologies about what happens at this altar each and every time we have a celebration of the Holy Eucharist. Mike describes it like this:
At the Eucharist we lay our lives on the table, the same table Jesus is on. It all gets mixed up and God does what God does and makes something altogether new. And then we all take a piece of this new creation---a little bit of you…and you…and you….a little bit of me, a little bit of Jesus , we all take a piece of one another, infused by and through God and go out into the world, as something new and ready to create, all around us, something altogether new.
And we do it, again and again and again.
This is exactly what Jesus was trying to get across to Peter in today’s Gospel.
There’s a lot in this Gospel and it’s easy, at least for me, to get lost.
 But the bottom line is found in two sentences: Who do YOU say I am and Get behind me Satan!
When Jesus asks, but who do you say I am? Peter, just like the kid in school who quickly and loudly raises his hand like Horseshack on Welcome Back Kotter every time the teacher posed a question, Peter says, decisively and simply “You are the Christ.” No doubt Jesus is surprised that any of them had figured out that He was indeed, The Christ, that is the Messiah, the one promised, the one waited for. He is the One. God come to earth. Peter is right.
And he’s also really wrong.
He’s wrong because although Jesus is, indeed the Messiah, the Son of God and the King of Kings, he’s not above or beyond humanity. He is in humanity.
He’s God and He’s Human and he’ll never, not ever, use his divinity, his God-ness, to bypass any single part of the Human condition. Including humiliation, suffering, execution and the deepest darkest piece of the human condition, death itself.
Peter can’t wrap his brain around Jesus as God and Jesus as Human. Peter can’t believe that Jesus would accept the fullness of the human experience. Peter cannot and will not believe that the only way to gain a God-filled life, that the only way bring God’s reign of Love, Justice and Righteousness for all on earth, forever; is to die.
Peter cannot accept that the Way of Jesus is, indeed, the Way of the Cross.
And so Jesus exclaims:
“Get Behind me Satan!”
Get Behind me, all you who are so afraid of the darkness that you  go to extensive lengths to keep it at bay…which just gives it control over everything that you do.
Get Behind me, Satan all of you who so fear death that you absolutely forget to, refuse to, live.
Get Behind me Satan… you who want easy answers,  who want the quick fix, who want the gain bypassing the pain.
Get Behind me Satan for the life you seek, the life you live, isn’t life at all:
It’s Good Friday without Easter
It’s the dark of night without the light of dawn.
Jesus kind of unloads on Peter, doesn’t he?
But I get it…there is so much more joy in life when we stop fighting the pain.
There’s so much more light in life when we stop railing against the darkness
Jesus doesn’t want Peter to miss one minute of this thing called life.
And he doesn’t want us too, either.
 Come, my friends, all you who are weary and heavy laden. Bring your brokenness to this Holy Table and let God make you and me and all of us into something new; for the Way of the Cross takes the broken and makes it Holy. Amen.

Proper 18 Yr B Sept 6, 2013

I preached two versions of the sermon yesterday. The one I preached at 8:30 and 10:30 went over like a dud, so I changed some things up for the 4:30. Therefore, this is the 4:30 version.

+Nobody wants to consider what Jesus is ACTUALLY saying to the foreign woman in today’s Gospel.
Nobody wants to hear me say that Jesus was racist, that calling the woman a dog was akin to the worst racial slur anyone could utter.
That Jesus was elitist, presuming that his message of Love for All really did have exceptions….that Jesus was sure he was the Savior for the Chosen People---the Children of God---the Jews, but never even considered that what was meant by Loving Everyone Everywhere really meant EVERYONE and EVERYWHERE.
Jesus didn’t know that.
Jesus was exclusionary, bigoted and racist when he called the woman a dog. He was ignorant and so darn sure of himself.
This is not a stellar moment in his life. It’s shocking and really uncomfortable. But, you know what, it’s not the most stunning thing about this Gospel.
No the most stunning thing is the protagonist---the foreign born, non-Jewish woman. This mother has been demeaned, insulted, hated and all but spat upon by Jesus, but does she turn in shame and slink away, does she lash out in anger, does she beg?
Nope.
She pulls her self up and does the most astonishing thing of all---she teaches the teacher, she lectures him, she debates him, and then, in a glorious example of Jesus’ humanity, He listens. He learns. And then, he changes.
Many scholars now agree, this event was a significant turning point in Jesus’ life and ministry. Jesus was racist in his actions, the Syrophonecian woman wouldn’t back down, the little girl was healed, and Jesus? Well, He learned a thing or two. And he changed and he evolved. He who was lost was found.
The good news of this harsh, difficult to hear Gospel is this:
Even our Savior, even the messiah, even Jesus Christ, himself can learn. Even Jesus Christ can be wrong and through listening, change.

Can we?

The Presiding Bishop has asked us to, in conjunction with the African Methodist Episcopal Church, make today “Confession, Repentance and Commitment to End Racism Sunday.” This dictum from the national church came down on Tuesday, so none of us had much time to adjust our liturgies, but I know why they chose today….this reading is perfect for a Sunday devoted to ending Racism…
But not just because of Jesus’ behavior toward the Syro-Phonecian woman…no this reading is perfect for today ALSO because of the second story in the Gospel—that of the deaf and mute man whom Jesus heals with a little spit and a lot of prayer---
Now at first, this coupling of readings---the bigotry of the first and the straight out healing of the second---may seem a bit odd, but upon further reflection, I find it perfect. You see, no one ever told Jesus that he was only the savior for one particular group of people—the Jews---he just assumed it. When he said he was Love and he came to spread Love he I REALLY think He thought that meant all of the Jews not all of everyone, everywhere, always. It wasn’t that he was deliberately exclusionary, it’s that it never occurred to him that it could be any other way. That’s why this add-on reading about the deaf man is sooo cleaver. In this little “add on” story, Jesus opens the ears and loosens the tongue of the deaf man who could “barely talk.” With some spit on the man’s tongue His fingers in the man’s ears, Jesus says, “Ephphatha,” which quite literally means, “Open up,” and the man? He’s healed.
These two stories, one with Jesus being closed and the other with Jesus “opening” the man’s ears  are connected through the actions of the Syrophonecian woman teaching Jesus the truth about his mission on earth. …that loving everyone always, everywhere, no exceptions really means EVERYONE. EVERYWHERE. ALWAYS. NO EXCEPTIONS.
We go from hateful speaking to hearing the truth.
Jesus was blind, but now he sees, Jesus was deaf but now he hears, Jesus was closed, but now he’s open.

Guess what? We’re all closed….we all have those situations where we lag behind in tolerance, where we jump to damning conclusions before really understanding, really hearing the truth of a situation. We all have fear of those different than us, we hesitate, we hold back, we resist. In some cases we out and out hate, in some cases we judge harshly, quickly and without all the data.
In some cases we assume to know the truth, we presume to know a truth only to be, like Jesus when it came to just who he was supposed to save, proven utterly and thoroughly wrong.
So what are we to do about our intolerance?
What are we to do about our racism, be it overt and more insidious?
What are we to do about the certainty that we are right?
What are we to do about the racism that infects our world, our nation, our churches, our cities, our towns, our neighborhoods, our homes and our hearts?
Well, I think the answer is right here, in these Gospel stories of today---I think we, like the desperate mother, need to avoid getting caught up in name calling and hate and, with dignity and integrity respect the dignity of all people, regardless of how they treat us.
---I think we, like the deaf and mute man, need Ephphatha, that is we need to be opened up to hear what those around us are saying. We need to loose our tongues and unstop our ears so that the truth of our mission---caring for everyone we encounter with justice and respect and dignity—can lead the way, and we can create a new love-filled kingdom right here on earth.
Because, for the third and I promise the last (at least for awhile) week in row, if not us, WHO? +