Advent 3A 11 Dec 2016 Did You Ever Wonder?

+ Have you ever wondered if it’s all true?
Wondered if Jesus really was God in the flesh? Wondered if Mary REALLY birthed the Son of God?
Did you ever wonder if it’s all true?
This question’s been asked by the most faithful and the least—and it makes sense---how can it be that God’s here? There’s still hatred and intolerance; there’s still violence, hopelessness and loss. How can it be that Emmanuel--God with us --- is true?
Is he really the one?
John the Baptist wondered.
Now don’t get me wrong, John the Baptist BELIEVED.
He believed that he was the one to herald the coming of the King, he believed he was to serve as Elijah to the Messiah, that he was to announce the coming of the Lord. But we find him in today’s Gospel wondering if maybe, just maybe he made a mistake.
“Are you the one to come?” John asks.
“And, if you are, how come you’re letting me languish in this cell? Herod isn’t mellowing, my days are numbered, Lord. HOW ABOUT SOME HELP HERE?”
John believed.
But, what John thought he believed wasn’t playing out like he thought it would. He had faith that the Messiah would come. He had faith in Jesus, but Jesus as Messiah? Jesus didn’t fit the prototype, he wasn’t what John expected.
Think about the Gospel stories we hear throughout the year, think about who they tell us Jesus is… He’s not always who we expect…
 We love the man who held children dear, who embraced the outcast and the hated. But to love that Jesus we must also love the Jesus who tells people to turn on their families in order to follow him, who tears up the temple, who compares a Samaritan woman to a dog.
Jesus isn’t always who we want him to be.
Our faith is something we hold dear, the stories of our faith nourish us, the rhythm of our faith soothes us.
But the reality of our faith?
Well that often shakes us to our core.
Where’s the star? The shepherds? Where’s Mary talking to the angel Gabriel? Why oh why must we get these readings about judgment and vengeance 14 days before Christmas? Why can’t we get a nice gentle lead into the story we all know and love?
Well…because the story we know and love isn’t the point. The birth of Jesus isn’t the point.
The life of Jesus and the life of all who follow him is.
Truth is, the factual details of Jesus’ birth don’t necessarily match what we hear in the nativity stories. But it doesn’t matter-- the story rings true in our heart. The Christmas story is an icon of our faith—the census, the barn, the star, the angels, the shepherds, the straw---but in the weeks leading to up to Christmas there’s not a star, a sheep, or an angel in sight.
Instead we get readings foreshadowing the second coming of Christ, the time when Jesus will return to the earth to separate the wheat from the chaff, the sheep from the goats, the followers of God from the non-believers. We get this Gospel where John the Baptist begins to wonder, “are you the one? Because it sure doesn’t look like you are. Where’s the kingdom? Where’s the peace? Where’s the unity?”
Jesus’ words echo here---“what did you come out to see, to hear? A show? A flashy liturgy full of promises, requiring absolutely nothing of you except tossing some money in the collection plate and following a set code of conduct that, if followed guarantees success and happiness…the so –called Prosperity Gospel?”
Wouldn’t it be great if we could come to church every Sunday, listen to beautiful music, recite familiar prayers, hear a decent sermon now and again, enjoy friends at coffee hour….and then go home and not think about it again until next Sunday?
But that’s not how it works is it?
We don’t just wander out of church on Sunday, we are sent out --to seek and serve Christ in all whom we encounter.
We are sent.
To be Christ in the world.
It’s not a spectator sport, is it? We are sent. To see and to do. To notice and to help. To realize and to change.
There’s a lot to do!
  John the Baptist is scared, he’s worn out and he’s worried. Had he made a mistake? Was Jesus really the one to come?
Jesus, instead of soothing John with a simple, “YES and oh by the way here are your parole papers…” tells John that he is the One because the lame walk, the blind see and the hungry are fed. He’s telling John –and us---that the work of God here on earth is accomplished one step at a time, one kind act at a time, one healing moment at a time. And that His coming—the first time and the second---are book ends. We, the Body of Christ on earth are the filler.
 We, the followers of Christ, full of wonder and doubt, full of hope and despair, full of questions that have no clear answers, fill in the space between the first and the second coming one step at a time, one kind act at a time, one healing moment at a time.
Jesus is the Messiah. And we are his followers.
As we enter into the wondrous story of his birth, don’t worry about what is fact and what is not, worry about what is true and right: that God so loved the world, God sent Jesus to live among us, to teach us, to inspire us and to leave us to finish the work that he began.
Amen.

Advent 2A Dec.4, 2016 Nurturing the Shoot Within Us All

+There are so many images that come to mind while listening to today’s readings:
¬ Wolves and lambs lounging in a peaceful co-existence, leopards and lions playing, a baby crawling safely within the reach of the snake.
¬ Gentiles being welcomed into Judaism through the cleansing act of baptism—no 30 foot walls being erected to keep the Palestinians out of Israel back then-- the images are almost unbelievable!
¬ And then we have wild and woolly John the Baptist flying INTO A RAGE at the Pharisees who’ve come to gawk at his baptizing act in the River Jordan. There he is, all smelly and wrapped in camel hair, blasting his message to all within ear shot, a touch of crazed ramblings infused with a wisdom that cannot be denied.
¬ And one of my favorite images of all—that earnest little seedling shooting up from a stump: a branch from the tree of Jesse.
Have you ever felt like a stump….a mere fragment of your former self?  A little dried up, worn down, feeling as if life has cut you off at your knees?
The prophet Isaiah tells us: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse…” The family tree that was the House of David, looked mighty bleak when Isaiah was writing in the 8th c. BCE—it was a mere stump of its former glory---they were under attack by the Assyrians, they were surrounded, defeat was at every turn. It’s hard to imagine the Israelites hopeful at that time, isn’t it?
Who can imagine anything growing while sitting on the stump of utter despair?
 I’ve sat there myself, perhaps you have, too. You may be there now -- at that place where hope is cut off, where loss and sadness have deadened your heart. A place where peace seems out of reach and happiness, the thing of fantasy.
  The good news is that God’s Advent word has come to sit, on that stump, alongside us, right where we are. God’s Advent Word won’t come in a blaze of glory, it’s not delivered on a chariot of fire. It won’t ask us to get up and dance! It comes to us, exactly where we are and it comes to us just how we are...happy and hopeful, sad and despairing, raging and ranting. It doesn’t matter—God’s Advent Word meets us where right we are.
Today’s Advent Words come to us from Isaiah—hopeful words creating a vision that’s surprising in its simplicity and honesty. Nothing hyperbolic and lofty here. The Word is matter-of-fact and brutally honest--the nation as they knew it would never rise again. The shoot would not become a mighty cedar. No, the shoot would become something altogether surprising, altogether different than anything anyone could ever expect. It won’t look mighty, it won’t be fierce… no, it will be a child…a BABY!
Much later in the book of Isaiah we read:
“For [the Lord] grew up before them like a young plant,
and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.”
  Yes, a shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse… fragile, yet tenacious and stubborn. It will grow like a plant out of dry ground. And it will be strong and miraculous enough to push back the stone from a rock-hard tomb.
The shoot will grow in the heart of those cut off by unbearable sorrow until one morning they can look up again. It will grow in the hearts of people told over and over that they are nothing, they are nobody.
In the depths of that sorrow, in the grip of that hate, the plant will grow. It will break through the places where darkness dwells, where hope loses its way, where loneliness spreads. The shoot will grow to sing shouts of Hosanna and Glory to God in the highest.
  My friends, this shoot emerging from the stump of Jesse—this fragile sign--- is the beginning of God’s incarnation—of God’s coming to us, as one of us!
What about the seedling longing to burst forth in our own hearts? Deep in that place where faith longs to break through the hardness of our disbelief, the frozen ground of our fear, the rock hard stone of our despair?  Folks, don’t wait for the tree to be full grown. Search for that sprout, encourage that shoot, welcome the God who comes to us in Advent; inviting us to move beyond all that was into all that will be.
We may still want to sit on the stump for a while and brood—that’s ok--God will sit with us. But God will also keep nudging us: “Look! Look -- there on the stump. Do you see that green shoot growing?”
“O come, green shoot of Jesse, free
Your people from despair and apathy;
Forge justice for the poor and the meek,
Grant safety for the young ones and the weak.
Rejoice, rejoice! Take heart and do not fear,
God’s chosen one, Immanuel, draws near.”
Preparing our hearts for the coming of our Lord requires that we let the shoot of Love take root and grow within us. Because, when we do that, we’ll find ourselves awestruck, alongside Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the donkey, and all the other barn critters, gazing down upon the Savior of the World, come to us as a precious baby boy.
Amen!

Advent 1A Nov 27, 2016

Today I was all set to preach this sermon at Trinity, Hamburg. Then Pete called to say she'd called the ambulance because Mom was sick. I threw off my vestments and handed this sermon to Frieda Webb who delivered it in my stead.


+Today is the first Sunday of Advent, a season that begins in darkness and ends in an explosion of light bursting forth from a crib in a barn because there was no room at the inn.
As we begin Advent we’re encouraged to shed the darkness of this world and put on the “armor of light” that is the world of Jesus Christ. But rather than having readings about the angel’s visit to Mary, or Mary’s visit to her cousin Elizabeth or Joseph’s dilemma when he finds out Mary is pregnant, we hear Paul remind us to avoid revelry and drunkenness, debauchery and licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy…for, as Jesus tells us in the Gospel, we know not the day nor the hour of the Lord’s return, so we best be ready…ho ho ho, right?
But having readings like this makes sense if put into context. You see, our readings this morning are not speaking about the first Advent—that is God coming to live among us in the person of Jesus Christ—these readings are about the second Advent, the second coming of Jesus on the last day. And, they implore is to be ready for that last day.
Advent is a season to take stock of our lives, to review, to make changes and move on. Which makes it sound an awful lot like Lent doesn’t it? Well…yes…and no…. It is, by design, a penitential season of sorts— a season to focus on becoming reconciled with God. But it’s not like Lent when we lay ourselves bare before God. No Advent is when God lays God’s self-bare before us[1]---when God comes to dwell among us in the stark vulnerability of a newborn baby.
Let me repeat that—Advent is when God lays God’s self-bare before us in the naked innocence of a newborn baby. No walls, no barriers, no boundaries. What a fabulous image ---God laid out before us, in all the glory, wonder and peacefulness of a new-born.
What an honor and what a gift God gives us by coming to us, in the flesh! And all we’re asked to do in return is to receive this gift---to take this baby in our arms and love Him as much as He loves us.
Our Advent task is actually pretty simple---preparing our heart, our minds, and our souls to welcome the greatest gift of all time---God in the flesh. A God who came to live among us, as one of us, not to scare us, not to scold us, but to simply and profoundly, LOVE US.
But, accepting that love, receiving that love, embracing that love means that we have to be open to it, we have to be READY for it. Because to accept the vulnerability of that baby who is God we must shed all darkness---we must cast off all fear, toss aside all worry, turn away from all hate.
To accept the vulnerability of that baby who is God we must take on the light and love and peace that is God.  This is why all the Christmas carols playing non-stop on the radio, the clerks in stores wishing us a Merry Christmas before the Thanksgiving Turkey is even cold, the Christmas trees trimmed and the lights hung with care is just fine during Advent. Because, frankly, it’s the Christmas spirit that places us in the perfect state of mind to receive the gift that is Jesus Christ.
Think about the mood change in the world this time of year. People are happier. People take time to gather for parties, to write Christmas cards to those who are far off and those who are near. People think about what people mean to them and then tell them! Folks hold doors open, let cars pull ahead of them in traffic. People are kinder. Gentler. More peaceful.
In other words, during Advent and Christmas we are who we are supposed to be.
So when we’re told to shed the darkness of this world and put on the light of God, when our readings tell us to turn away from the self-serving behaviors of our day to day to world, when we’re encouraged to beat our swords into ploughshares, and our spears into pruning-hooks we’re being told to GET READY, for the greatest gift of all time is about to be given to us and we best be as ready for it not only today, but tomorrow as well. For although we know neither the day nor the hour of Jesus’ return we do know how we are supposed to live our life---as if every single day was, indeed Christmas.
So, my friends, welcome to Advent, a brief season of preparation, a time when we shed all that holds us back so that we can put on the source of all light and love and laughter—Jesus the Christ. Welcome to Advent, a time for us to embrace God laying bare before us, in that crib, in that Bethlehem barn so many years ago.
Amen.

Thanksgiving Day 2016

+Thanksgiving Day. A once a year holiday in the secular world. Too bad for them.
Once a year?….pshaw….
We have Thanksgiving every single week…and not just any ol’ordinary Thanksgiving, it’s a GREAT Thanksgiving. Go ahead, take a look on page __ of the bulletin. The Great Thanksgiving is the communion portion of our service---when we, a holy people share holy food.
Each and every week we gather around the dining table of our Lord to offer thanks for all that we have and all that we are. Everything. Our blessings and our burdens. Our hopes and our fears. Our happiness and our worries.
The Great Thanksgiving of our Lord doesn’t seek only the good. The Great Thanksgiving of our Lord requests---longs for---everything we have. And all that we are.
We are called each and every week to place it all –our joys and our triumphs, our sorrows and our losses---on this altar. The whole kit and caboodle. Doing that is an act of true and thorough and full thankfulness.
In a few moments we’ll recite A Litany of Thanksgiving I have used for several years. I like this litany because in it we offer thanks for the good as well as the challenges of life. None of us want to be challenged, but we are and frankly, we usually learn a tremendous amount from these challenges. We learn how strong we are, we learn who we can count on, and who we cannot. We learn our limits, we learn our abilities. We learn. We grow.
There’s an old saying among horse people that says:
“Don’t forget to thank the difficult horses that made your life hell, without them you wouldn’t be as good of rider as you are today.”
I don’t know about you, but I know that every challenge I have faced in life has made me a better human being, a better partner, a better daughter, a better sister, a better parent, a better friend, a better priest. So I intend, as we pray this litany, to thank the “difficult horses” of my life, because they have, indeed, made me a better rider.
So ,my friends, pray it fervently, honestly and whole-heartedly.
Because you see, God wants it all—every last bit of it. So please, PLEASE give it all to God. Even those things too difficult to express, those things too painful to utter—offer them to God—for when we do that we become better riders, we become better Christians, we become better people. +

Our King. This King Nov 20, 2016 Grace Lckprt Last Pentecost, Yr C: The Reign of Christ

+ Today is Christ the King Sunday, also known as the Reign of Christ. But just what do we mean by all this talk of Reign…and Kingship?…
It’s a day when we commemorate Jesus Christ as the King of King and the Lord of Lords. It’s a day when, as we close out the church year, we celebrate that our King, this King isn’t a king of royal palaces or of bejeweled crowns or of ermine robes. No today we remember that our king, this king died the death of a common criminal, that he was deserted by his friends and mocked by his captors.
Today we remember that our King, the King of our hearts and minds and souls isn’t a King of the powerful but is the King of the weak. Today we are reminded that our King isn’t the commander of a mighty army but is the Prince of all Peace. Today we remember that neither death nor life, not angels nor rulers, not present things nor future things, not powers nor principalities can determine our fate. Today we remember that Christ is our King, that Jesus is our Lord and that all of our power, all of our hope and all of our love is found in and through Him.
Today we celebrate that this faith of ours is as counter-cultural in the year 2016 as it was in the year 30.
Today we celebrate the fact that for 2000 years we have left those in our wake scratching their heads and saying, “those Chistians, are they nuts?’
Today we face the increasing intolerance of our world by saying, The Episcopal Church Welcomes You. Yes, You. And you, and you and you. The Episcopal Church welcomes the stranger, the refugee, the outcast, the hated, the different, the difficult and the destitute.
Today we face the ever-expanding hate of this world by saying, “we, as followers of Jesus Christ, love everyone.” Today we remind everyone in our world that although we may not like everyone all the time we do love everyone all of the time. Not because we necessarily want to, but because we must, because our Lord, our King, our Savior tells us that it is only by loving everyone that we ourselves can fully receive all the love God pours out upon us.
Today we face the never-ending uncertainty about our safety by saying that we, as people of deep faith, may not know what tomorrow holds, but that, as people of deep faith we know that all matter of things will be well because we are beloved children of God.
Today we remember that our King isn’t found on Pennsylvania Avenue or on Wall Street.
Today we remember that our King isn’t found in the money we make or the houses we build.
Today we remember that our King isn’t the winner of reality shows like the Voice, or Survivor or America’s Got Talent.
Today we remember that our King isn’t a Sabre or a Bill or even a Cub.
Today we remember that our King, this King, is too full of Love and Light, too full of Truth and Grace to be derailed by the darkness of this world.
Today we remember that our King, this King is the manifestation of God’s Love for us and that if we only remember who our King is, if we only remember what this King taught us---to love one another as we ourselves are loved---then this King, our King, the King, will reign not only in heaven but always and forever in our hearts.
For today, when we remember Him, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, he will remember us.
Amen.

St Martin in the Field, Grand Island , "Hearts on Fire." November 19, 2016

I was honored to be asked to give a talk at St Martin's Church on Grand Island at their Stewardship banquet. The scripture passage was from Luke's Gospel, the Road to Emmaus, especially "Hearts on Fire." Below is what I said:
I invite you to sit back and listen to a modern day fairy tale. The tale of two women, great heartache and the power of a faith community. Listen closely for you just might recognize you or someone you know in these words.
Once upon a time there were two women, Gail and Lucille, who were part of an ongoing euchre tournament held every Tuesday afternoon at a community center in the retirement complex in Vero Beach, Florida. On this particular Tuesday, Gail and Lucille were partners. In between hands they began to chat---about their marriages, their children, their grandchildren. They talked about the weather, their aches and pains and their coupon clipping. They avoided politics and religion.
The tournament was hot and heavy that day and Gail and Lucille cleaned up—they were a terrific team! Afterwards they went out for coffee---ok maybe they went out for gin and tonics---but whatever, they went out.
Gail, who usually never did anything like this with someone she barely knew, told Lucille about the greatest heartache of her life----her daughter’s mental illness and drug addiction in the 1970’s---she shared her daughter’s descent into the horror that is addiction and mental illness, about the arrests, the hospitalizations and the broken promises. She spoke of the recovery programs, halfway houses and court dates. She beamed as she spoke of her daughter’s current stability and sobriety and her leadership in the recovery community, her business success, her husband and their three kids. It was heartwarming.
Lucille asked Gail how she possibly made it through the years of ups and down, of hopes raised and hopes dashed? Gail hesitated but then said, well….”I think the short answer is my church. Now don’t get me wrong, said Gail, I’m no holy roller, I’m not one of those crazy Christians who are intolerant of anyone different from them. I am an Episcopalian, and back in the middle of all this mess with my daughter, my husband was transferred to a new town and I decided that joining a church was the best way to get to know my new hometown. No one at that church, except the priest, knew the depth of my heartache, but they embraced me, they showed me a way forward through their faithfulness, their welcome and their love. It’s funny, I never shared all that was going on with me with the friends I made there---not because I was ashamed, but because somehow, when I was with my church family, my heart just burned with a realization that as long as I kept being fed at the altar of that church—both the one in the church itself and the one of friendship and warmth at coffee hour, church suppers and other church events----I was strong enough, hopeful enough, serene enough—to bear what I needed to bear. We were only in that town for 2 ½ years but I never forgot that love, that fellowship, that sense of home. I stay in touch with many of them to this day---all these some 35 years later.”
After a few minutes of chit-chat, Lucille, no longer able to ignore the burning in her own heart, began to share her story with Gail.
Lucille’s story hearkened back to the 1980’s and the challenge of raising two kids all on her own in a small town…especially when one of her kids came out as gay at his high school graduation.
 On the stage.
Using the microphone!
She spoke of the embarrassment she felt by her son’s very public “coming out.” “I wasn’t ashamed of who he was---I was ashamed of the public spectacle he had made----it’s funny, Gail, I was raised Episcopal, too, and making a spectacle just isn’t in our DNA, is it? As a matter of fact, it was my Episcopal upbringing that made me wonder how it was that my son felt the only way to come out was in that public forum…I had always been very open with my kids and we, as a family, were accepting of all people, respecting all lifestyles, just like the Baptismal Covenant instructs us. But teenagers will be teenagers, and I guess he decided that the bigger and bolder his announcement, the better. Can’t get much bigger and bolder than the stage in the middle of the football field with the entire town in attendance!
Everyone at my church then was very sensitive to what had happened—almost too much so. After his announcement, the folks at my church then kind of tip-toed around me, as if talking about being tolerant and accepting was one thing, but actually being tolerant and accepting was another. They spoke of my son as if he was a science experiment, not a human being. They weren’t homophobic, they were just…. well…awkward. Soon thereafter I relocated to be closer to family and I joined the local episcopal church. WHAT a difference! This congregation wasn’t at all concerned about appearances or about being politically correct while actually being really socially awkward. The day I walked into that church I was embraced as a member of the family. I was extremely open about my son’s sexuality, as well as my daughter’s vegan, wiccan worshipping, green party, hippie lifestyle. We all had a laugh about it----our kids are our kids, no matter what! Thank goodness for that, because fast forward 10 years and as my son lay dying from AIDS in a hospital in Chicago, while I was fighting for his partner’s right to be by his bedside, my church back home was praying for us,  calling me, sending us prayer shawls and---this was the most amazing thing---an attorney in the congregation contacted a law school classmate who lived in Chicago to help me fight the hospital on behalf of my son’s partner. It was amazing. Even though those days were some of the worst of my life---there’s no heartache like the death of your child----I felt this resolve, this peace, this hope. It absolutely burned in my heart as I walked through the saddest days of my life. I know where that fire came from, I know where that peace, that resolve and that hope came from---my faith and the manifestation of that faith as expressed in my church home.”
Blown away, Gail just took Lucille’s hand and they sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Gail realized that they’d never told each other where they were from, they never mentioned the name of the churches that meant so much to them. Lucille answered that her church home, the one she misses everyday was St Martin’s in the Fields on a little known island in Western New York—Grand Island.
Gail’s jaw fell open and her heart was about to burst when she said, “that was my church for those 2 1/2 years.” St Martin’s, Grand Island.
OK, so maybe this story was a fairytale, maybe there never was a Gail or Lucille, but the truth of the matter is that this story tells us, in concrete terms, why congregations are important. A community of faith, like St. Martin’s, casts a wide net---you never know the effect your involvement at St Martin’s will have—on you and on all those whom you encounter. God only knows how many Gail’s and Lucille’s will walk through the doors of St. Martin’s in the years to come. May your gift keep those doors open and the fires stoked for many years, because there are people out there, and people in here, whose very lives depend on it. May all our hearts continue to burn in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ, who is our peace, our hope, and our Savior and may God continue to bless The Episcopal Church of St Martin’s in the Field, Grand Island, NY.

Move Ahead or Die Proper 28 Yr C Grace Lockport 13 Nov 2016

+God says to the prophet Isaiah, “I am about to create a new heaven and a new earth…no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it or the cry of distress.”
I know that day will come. I know this is the goal of God’s creation. But, for those of us who feel in the minority, for those of us who love people who are considered outcasts, for those of us who long to live in a world without discrimination, hate, or prejudice, the day God speaks of may seem very far away. Especially this week.
I know some of us are hurting, worried, angry and stunned. Others of us don’t see what the big deal is…it was an election, one person won, others didn’t.
Those of you who know the family Pete and I’ve created can probably guess what our reaction has been. But, hopefully, you also know us as people of great faith, as people who believe, with all our heart, all our mind, and all our soul that God is good and that through God’s son, Jesus Christ, all things are being made new---albeit a wee bit slower than we may like. I, along with many of you, have spent this week trying to digest the great divide in this country--a small divide in numbers, but a vast divide in attitudes.
I’ve spent this week trying to ferret out the Good News, how to bring a message of hope, love, integrity and decency to you.
This hasn’t been easy.
All sides of this campaign have engaged in fear mongering and name calling. The campaign revealed how prominent intolerance, hate and fear are in our world. The aftermath of the election highlights our divide, our dis-ease.
The irony that our Gospel reading is full of eschatological---end of time--- imagery is not lost on me. And so as I began to write this sermon, I asked this question:
What is God doing in our lives—the people of America, the people of New York, the people of the Diocese of WNY, the people of Grace, Lockport---at this time and in this place?
Well apparently God is telling us, through Jesus Christ, that before we get to the world as God intended at creation, we need to dismantle the world that us human beings have built. God is telling us that nation will rise against nation, that people will rise against other people, that there will be dreadful portents. That, indeed things will get really bad. Now hear me clearly, I in no way think the election of Donald Trump (or if Hillary Clinton was elected) is a portent of the end of time. Our nation has a wonderful balance of power that protects us from any mistakes we may make. But what I do think---actually what I know---is that sometimes things have to fall apart, sometimes things have to feel hopeless, sometimes things must be so confusing and perhaps even terrifying that we’re willing to break down our walls—walls that we erected so long ago we may not even remember why we built them in the first place----and try something new. As Jesus tells us this morning we will be given an opportunity to testify—to testify on another way, a way beyond party lines, a way that doesn’t take sides, a way that doesn’t judge, a way that doesn’t use fear as a motivating factor. The way of Jesus Christ, a way of hope, a way of peace and a way of love. A way that follows the guidelines of our baptismal covenant to seek and serve Christ in all people---even those people with whom we have grave disagreements, even those people who judge us and condemn us based on the color of our skin, the country of our origin, the gender of our beloved, the name of our God. The way of Jesus Christ which directs us---commands us, actually--- to strive for justice and peace among all people---not just people who look like us, worship like us and vote like us. A way where we respect the dignity of every single human being. No exceptions. None. A way where we look at our brothers and sisters and strive to see the face of Christ.
This is a lot easier to proclaim than it is to actually do.
 Sometimes the hurt and the anger and the fear we feel blocks our view. Sometimes our pain is so great we simply don’t see Christ looking right back at us.
But what we know---what so many of you here at Grace have lived through-- is that if we let our pain and our fear and our anger continually block our view of the face of Christ on those around us, we will wither up and die.
You, the people of Grace Lockport are a shining example of what Jesus is teaching us with today’s Gospel----sometimes we need to be at the very brink of destruction before we can find the courage and the faith to move ahead. As I heard many of you say at the vestry retreat a couple months ago—if we don’t move ahead, we will die.
Grace Church is living resurrection life. You have been through some unbelievably difficult times, you have been hurt, you have been scared and you’ve been angry. But, through your faith in Jesus Christ, through your commitment to the Good News, through your dedication to making disciples, you are marching in the light of God toward a new heaven and new earth. In these days of discord and uncertainty in our wider civic life, I thank you, the people of Grace for showing us all a way forward.
For, as St. Paul tells us in today’s Epistle: Do not be weary in doing what is right.
May God continue to bless all of us and the good work of Grace Church, Lockport!


Amen.

Oct. 2, 2016 Proper 22 Yr C

+ What is faith?
Think about it. Is it a thing? A commodity?
A state of mind? Some type of mind over matter proposition?
Is it a simple platitude?
A gift?
 I suppose the particulars of faith vary from person to person and from situation to situation, but one thing seems really clear to me—faith isn’t stagnant, it’s dynamic. Faith isn’t a thing that either is or isn’t, faith isn’t something we either have or don’t have, faith moves, faith is active, faith is ever-changing.    
And it's that-- this idea that faith isn't a thing, it's an action-that Jesus is trying to teach us with today's parable of the mustard seed.
    The disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith while they sit by passively, waiting for something to change.
I’m not sure what they thought Jesus would do…. whack them with his magic “increase your faith” wand?
    But Jesus isn't into magic, he's into reality and He wants them to take whatever modicum of faith they have and use it. Activate it, exercise it. Because what Jesus knows and we have to learn is that with even a teeny mustard seed of faith, God can do amazing things.
Jesus is saying that the disciples should stop worrying (whining) about whether they have enough faith and just get down to the business at hand-- to do what needs to be done, trusting in their own ability and God's grace.
But the truth is, faith can be hard to come by---at times even the tiniest glimmer of faith is darkened by what we perceive to be the hopeless reality of a situation.
    Detroit is a city in a bad way. They have more square footage of abandoned properties than any other US city. If you drive through Detroit, you travel by miles of vacant buildings, razed properties and over grown abandoned parkland.
Now, there are pockets of hope, blight turned into successful urban farms.... But there remain a whole host of neglected dilapidated parks.
    What do you do, when the city you grew up in, perhaps the only home you’ve ever known, is no longer a safe place for children to live? How do you improve the quality of life for thousands of people who have no other options except to live amidst the desolation and  hopelessness? You can march on city hall and demand services, but if there isn’t any money, how in the world is that going to accomplish anything? You’re still left with overgrown parks inhospitable and unsafe for the children of your community.
Enter The Detroit Mower Gang....
“The Detroit Mower Gang is a group of people---caring citizens---that descend upon the abandoned parks of Detroit and mow them in a furious fit of weed whacking.”
They are self-identified do-gooders who refuse to let parkland go to waste and who refuse to allow bureaucracy and tightened city budgets to get in the way of children playing outside. Why do they do this? Well, they say, “ Because people need us and no one else is getting the job done.” ( www.detroitmowergang.com)
In other words, they consider Detroit their community and because they care for their community they are willing to take care of their community.
   It’s impressive what people can do with a little bit of faith and a willingness to give God the room God needs to increase that faith into something amazing and powerful.
The Detroit Mower Gang saw a problem: no safe green space for the kids of Detroit. They considered options: wait for the city to get around to it or take care of it themselves.
So they got down to business by exercising their faith.
   They exercised their faith---faith that if given a nice green space the families of inner city Detroit would get out and enjoy it.
They exercised their faith that if they just told people what they were doing they’d get enough interested people to keep up with all the parks they’ve adopted.
They exercised their faith in the city they love by identifying the problem and then being part of the solution.
They EXERCISED their faith.
   I talk about this all the time---we are recipients of God’s immense and overwhelming love, we are the recipients of God’s faith in us. A faith that never wavers, never wobbles, never falls down. A faith that we will take the mantel of God, the lessons of Jesus and make a difference in this world. That we will indeed Love one another as we have been loved.
  So what can we do with all the faith, all the hope, and all the trust, God showers upon us?
We can exercise it.
We can spread it. We can talk about it, we can do things that without faith we would be too scared to do. We can make a difference in this world. We can make a difference in WNY, we can make a difference in Perry NY.
So today, the lesson of the Gospel is this---take your faith—no matter how small, no matter how battered, no matter how tentative and go out into your world, your community, your neighborhood, and exercise it in all you do. Because when we do that, I have no doubt that miracles will happen. And if there is one thing this world needs, is more miracles.
Amen.

Aim to Be One Too. All Saints' Sunday Nov. 6, 2016 Trinity Hamburg

+Back in the 1990’s there was this great off Broadway play called "Late Night Catechism."
Set as an adult catechism class “Sister” is filling in for Father Murphy, who doesn’t want to miss his poker night. The play is structured around a list of saints the Vatican is reviewing…are they or aren’t they saints? –Sister reads the biography of each and then asks this question of the class: "Saint or Not a Saint?” It’s a hilarious play and I urge you to see it if you can.
So, just what defines a saint? Not surprisingly, for Anglicans, the definition is far more broad than the definition in the Roman Catholic faith. In Rome, a saint is canonized after several miracles have been attributed to the person.
Which then begs a follow-up question:
What constitutes a miracle?
Are there hard and fast rules defining what’s a miracle and what’s not?  Who gets to decide?
What’s a miracle, who’s a saint?
How do we know?
Maybe it’s like the late Supreme Court Justice Stewart Potter’s definition of pornography: “I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it?”
Maybe we know the miracles of life when we see them.
Maybe we know the saints of this world when we see them.
What are the miracles in your life?
Who are the saints you know?
Jesse was six years old when killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School in 2012. While the rest of his classmates huddled in a corner, holding hands, Jesse stayed with his teacher on the other side of the room. The shooter’s gun jammed just after he shot and killed the teacher. While the gun was being reloaded, Jesse yelled: “Run!” to his classmates. And they did. They got out. And then the gunman killed Jesse. Jesse’s last act on earth ,as a six year old, was to save his classmate’s lives.
That’s a saint.
My friend Richard’s heart had been failing for years. He was kept alive by an artificial heart. Three summers ago time was running out. He needed a new heart. On September 23, 2013 Richard received that new heart and two months later he walked his daughter down the aisle at her wedding.
That’s a miracle.
We don’t know much of anything about the donor.
What we do know is that the donor’s family was brave enough, on the absolute worst day of their lives, to give the gift of life to 10 other people through organ donation.
The donor's family? Saints.
What makes a saint?
Well the heroic stories of Jesse and Richard’s donor certainly paint one picture of saints.
But are saints only those who give their lives for another?
Can’t we all, as the hymn goes, aim to be a saint, too?
Absolutely.
The how to guide is right there in today’s Gospel.
The reading from Luke is a portion of the Sermon on the Plain (Luke’s version of Matthew's Sermon on the Mount). In this, probably the most famous and familiar of Jesus’ sermons, Jesus lays out the ingredients of a saint when he recites the Beatitudes.
It’s clear. We're blessed when we do the right thing.
It’s as simple as that.
So, just what IS the right thing?
Well, to take a page out of Justice Potter’s book:
I think we know it when we see it, think it or live it.
Jesse Lewis lived and died it.
The donor family knew it and lived it.
Javon Smith lived it.
 Javon was sitting in his apartment on Main Street in north Buffalo when he heard a horrific crash and ran outside to see the remnants of a car accident. One car was on fire with the elderly driver trapped inside. Some bystanders were trying to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. Javon and an off-duty Buffalo Police Officer sprang into action, extracting the victim from the BURNING car. Why'd he do it? Javon said because it was the right thing to do, that he didn't think, the natural instinct to help another just took over.
He’s right. The instinct to help our neighbor was knitted into our souls by God. The problem is something happened along the way and what we were created to be--- loving beings in complete harmony with this world and with God--- got derailed.
It became the exception rather than the rule.
And that's where saints come in.
The saints I've mentioned give us a glimpse into the human condition as God intended.
The saints I’ve mentioned lived, and in some cases died, following the directives outlined in the sermon on the plain.
You see, the saints lead us to where God wants us to go. Therefore, we celebrate them…they’re beacons leading us to live a life of blessing rather than a life of woe.
So, who’s a saint?
Are saints simply doctors, queens, shepherdesses on the green?
Are they only soldiers, priests and victims of fierce wild beasts?
Or are they simply folk just like you and me…folk striving to live as God intended, standing up for the oppressed, speaking out against injustice, saying no to hate and yes to Love, following the lead of those who’ve come before, helping us all to be one too?
Who blesses you?
What blesses you?
Who are your saints?
What are your miracles?
They’ve lived not only in ages past, there are hundreds of thousands still, the world is bright with the joyous saints who love to do Jesus’ will. You can meet them in Sandy Hook School, or in a hospital, or on Main Street, or in church, or at home, or at work or at play, for the saints of God are simply folks who know the right thing and do the right thing, God helping them along the way.
 I don’t know about you, but I aim to be one too. Amen.

Jesus sees. Jesus looks. Jesus notices. Proper 26C October 30, 2016 Trinity, Hamburg

+Last month I had the privilege of attending an adult Sunday school class taught by President Jimmy Carter. At the beginning of class, Mr. Carter told us about an important spiritual discipline one of his sons engages in every time he enters a room full of people he doesn’t know. The man (President Carter never identified which of his three sons does this) finds the loneliest looking person in the room ---the person who is off to the side, alone--and he approaches them, looks at them, sees them, and begins a conversation. President Carter’s son maintains that approaching the one who is the farthest apart from everyone else is the most decent and dignified thing he can do. Now, it would be easy for the son of a President to walk into a room and let the people come to him, but this man chooses instead to reach out to the most marginalized person he can find.  Why? Because, according to President Carter, that’s just what Jesus would do. And you know what? He’s right. That is what Jesus would do. Therefore, it’s what we must do.

Being seen is important isn’t it?

Have you ever been speaking with someone and they don’t look you in the eye, looking around instead, almost as if they’re looking for someone else—someone better---to talk to? It feels lousy, doesn’t it?

But being seen, being really seen, is great. When someone speaks to me and they’re only looking at me, only listening to me, I feel valued.

So often in our world today we don’t really see each other. At work we may pass someone in the hall or we may exchange emails with them throughout the day but rarely do we stop and have a conversation.

Even in our families it can be tough to be heard and to be seen. How many of us exchange more text messages with our loved ones than actually sitting across the table from them and talking? And listening? How often do we see one another, really see each other?

Jesus sees.

Jesus looks.

Jesus notices.

 Zaccheeus was a man who lived in Jericho. He was not well-liked because he was the tax collector.

Because he worked for the Empire, the gov’t, people didn’t like him and whenever they saw him they turned the other way. Whenever his name was mentioned people ridiculed and insulted him. Not for who he was as a person—no one knew that--but because of what he did for a living and for how he looked. You see, as Luke tells us in today’s Gospel, Zacchaeus was a short man who had a tall problem when this traveling preacher man came into town---he wouldn’t be able to see what all the fuss was about!

So, because he was small and the crowds were large, Zacchaeus climbed a tree to get a good look at Jesus. We don’t know why he was so interested in seeing Jesus—was it because Jesus was the latest fad? Was it because Zacchaeus worked for the Empire and was ordered to spy on what this rabbi was up to?

Or perhaps was he curious? Drawn to the power that was Jesus? We don’t know.

But we do know that Zacchaeus climbed the tree to see and there are no indications that anyone paid him any attention, that anyone saw him climb the tree, noticed him in the tree or cared one whit about him being in the tree.  

Until Jesus arrives.

As Jesus passes he looks up and he sees Zacchaeus, he notices him and he tells him— “I’m coming to your house for dinner tonight.”

Now the rest of our Gospel reading today talks about the outrage the crowd has that Jesus would socialize with such a man as this tax collector and the rebuttal Zacchaeus gives outlining all the good he’s done. One could finish a sermon discussing the dangers of snap judgements, which are bad, and the importance of generosity, which is good, but that’s not what stuck with me when I sat with this Gospel. What stuck with me is this whole looking at, seeing, and noticing people-- the thing that President Carter spoke about-- it’s what Jesus did with Zacchaeus and, I think, it’s what we are called to do.

We’re called, by Jesus Christ himself, to look at each other, to see each other, to notice each other. Because when we do that, when look one another in the eye, when we see, it’s a lot more difficult to be mean, dismissive, prejudiced or hate-filled.

And don't we need that?

Don't we need less intolerance and more acceptance? Don't we need more love and less hate, more seeing, more hearing, more noticing?

Zacchaeus and Jesus teach us something very important today --- they teach us that seeing each other is the first step to respect, and respect my friends is the back bone of love. And if there is one thing this world of ours needs isn’t it more love?

Forgiveness is a Two Way Street Proper 20 September 18, 2016 Trinity, Hamburg

+At the end of the announcements each week the priest says an offertory sentence, words taken directly from scripture, to ready us for making and receiving offerings at the altar. We bring forward the collection plates, the bread and the wine and then we receive the gift of grace through the body and blood of Christ at the altar. I usually say “Walk in Love as Christ Loved us and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.” There are several others, including: “If you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, then come offer your gift.”
The point of this sentence is that if we’re holding a grudge, if we have unfinished business, if we haven’t forgiven a misunderstanding, a debt, or a disagreement, then we aren’t ready to make an offering to God or to receive the abundant grace of God offered to us through the Eucharist.
God wants us free and clear when we come to this altar. That’s why we do a confession of sin just before we come with the gifts. It prepares us, it wipes the slate clean---it frees us.
Today’s Gospel-- the Parable of the Dishonest Manager-- is a story about the forgiving of debts. Not just monetary debts, but all debts---all the scores we keep—who’s slighted whom, who owes whom an apology…we have a laundry list of things done to us, and things we’ve done to others ---which must be cleared from our hearts and souls before we can fully receive God’s love as offered to us through the sacrament of Holy Communion.
Today’s parable has a lot of conniving and dishonesty in it. And it’s easy to get lost, trying to figure out who’s the villain, and who’s the hero.
To review—there’s an absentee landlord, who has a resident manager to handle the day to day affairs of his business---which includes taking advantage of the farm workers---paying them an unlivable wage, charging them huge rents and then gouging them at the company owned store….
….In summary: the landowner was cheating the peasants, the manager was cheating the landowner and the peasants by taking a little off the top for himself. When the manager’s caught by the landowner the manager turns to the peasants and by cheating the landowner even more, makes the peasants happy.
Luke wraps up this parable talking about faithfulness, dishonest wealth and true riches.
It sounds like Jesus is condemning wealth.
But to just assume that and move on is to miss what Luke has been saying to us all summer----that all the riches of this world will never ever take the place of the riches God bestows upon us….for the grace of God is what makes all things possible –even our wealth. And to be able to fully receive God into our hearts we must be free of resentment, regret, burden.
For Luke, forgiveness is the name of the game. Luke tells us again and again that God’s always ready to forgive. Abundantly, extravagantly outlandishly. That God, regardless of what we’ve done, is completely willing---anxious, actually---to forgive us.
Now, while forgiveness is always available we must ask for it, we must long for it, we must seek it…forgiveness is not some free giveaway, it’s an abundant gift given to those who are ready to receive it, who’ve repented, have amended their lives and want to be washed in the forgiveness of God to start their life anew.
But, and here’s where this week’s parable becomes clearer, forgiveness is not just something we receive …it’s also something we give….Jesus makes it very clear in the Lord’s Prayer---forgive us our trespasses, our sins, our debts as we forgive those who have trespassed—sinned—against us.
Jesus is telling us, with this convoluted story of landowners, managers and peasants, that we must forgive others—their mistakes, their faults, their debts---in order to be forgiven ourselves.
Our forgiveness of others is to have the same character as God’s forgiveness of us---as God’s love for us: it’s to be abundant, extravagant and outlandish. It must be overflowing, it must be constant. With this parable we’re told that we must forgive… that only in forgiving others can we truly accept the forgiveness God has for us. The forgiveness of God is so intense, so absolute, that we have to make room for it.
To do that, we must empty ourselves---of our resentments, our anger, our bitterness, our disdain and our petty scorekeeping. We are to-- simply and completely--- forgive people. Everyone. Not just those who have, in our eyes, earned it ...but everyone.

None of us can earn forgiveness, we can only desire it…and we only desire it, we only want it, when we realize, when we admit that we’ve made a mistake.
The manager had no right to forgive half the debts of those debtors. But neither did the landowner have the right to pay those debtors an unlivable wage.
There’s no villain in this story and there’s no hero …and that’s the point.
In this parable, everyone was making mistakes...everyone needed forgiveness…just like real life. We all make mistakes, we all need forgiveness.
 Jesus is saying, don’t wait for someone to ask for forgiveness, just grant it…because it’s not our job to keep score, it’s not our job to decide who gets forgiven what, when and how, our job is to free ourselves enough to receive the fullness of God’s love.
You see, by granting forgiveness, we lighten our own load of bitterness and resentment which frees up space deep within us, space which will be filled at the altar as we present ourselves-- forgiven, healed and ready to be fed by the grace and truth of God, who forgives all our debts.
Always.
+

Lost and Found Proper 19 Yr C September 11, 2016 St John’s Grace

+Episcopal priest and author Rick Morley says:
Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?
Nobody. No one does this. No one would ever do that. It’s insanity. If you lose 1% of your holdings, you don’t risk the other 99% to get it back. By leaving the 99, you risk them roaming off, being stolen, or being killed and eaten by a wolf.
No one leaves the 99.
Or what woman upon losing a coin, lights a lamp, sweeps the house, and searches until she finds it? And then calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, `Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’
Nobody. No one does this.
You don’t call friends and neighbors together for a celebration only to spend more money feeding and entertaining them. I mean why bother looking for the coin at all, if you’re just going to blow more money?
It’s insanity. Nobody does this.
Except Jesus.
Jesus does this. Jesus leaves the 99 to search for the lost. Jesus sweeps the house and then throws a party when the lost are found. It’s totally and thoroughly insane.
And it’s the Gospel message.
It’s the Good News of Christ that when a soul is lost, when we’re lost, that soul, is missed, longed for, and not only worth the search party, but worth the celebration-party when the soul is brought back into the fold.
Our God is the God of the lost, the God who celebrates when the lost are found .
     At one time or another we've all been lost---literally and figuratively.…we all, now and again, find ourselves tangled in the bramble unable to get free and desperately looking for rescue.
The good news is that the rescue plan is already in place: Jesus Christ. The moment Jesus began to walk this earth, the moment Jesus defeated death through his own death and resurrection, the rescue plan was activated.
We’re never a hopeless case. We’re never lost forever, because God is always, ALWAYS looking for us.
Who goes searching for the one out of a hundred? Who goes searching for the one out of a thousand? Who goes searching for the one out of a trillion? Who goes searching for you and for me, no matter how far afield we’ve flown?
Jesus, the Good Shepherd, Jesus the rabble rouser, Jesus the teller of obscure parables, stories that expose a truth we didn’t even know existed, that’s who. Jesus: the one who will always find us no matter what.
Now a sensible sermon based solely on the readings for today would continue to address all the varied ways we get lost, all the ways we hide from God, the ways we thwart God’s reaching out to us. But today is the 15th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. And for those of us who lived through those attacks we can’t let this day go by without acknowledgement. If we don’t remember then we are causing all 2,996 people killed and the more than 6,000 people injured to be the lost sheep, caught in the bramble, forgotten, dismissed, ignored. We can’t do that, we shouldn’t do it.
For as those buildings collapsed into smoldering piles of fiery dust , as that plane crashed into the Pennsylvania countryside and as the Pentagon burned, hundreds of people, just like the shepherd, just like the woman with the coin, refused to turn their backs, refused to give up on the lost.
If this was a regular Sunday and not the 15th anniversary of 9/11 a preacher would talk about how this Gospel is about sin and forgiveness. That this Gospel tells us that no one is “too far gone” to be saved through God’s amazing grace. But this isn’t any regular Sunday. Because 15 years ago begged the question---where in the world was God as those nearly three thousand people died and those 6k+ were injured? What did those people do to deserve such a fate? And I get that. Why do bad things happen to good people? Frankly I don’t know, that’s my first question when I come face to face with God--- but what I do know is that God was there, in Manhattan, in Shanksville PA and in Washington DC on 9/11/2001. God was in every single first responder who ran toward, who ran into rather than away from. God was with those first responders who wouldn’t get off the smoldering pile until they were absolutely positively sure that there was no one, no one left behind. Where was God then, where is God now? God is in the darkest corners. God is in the most horrific scenes, God is in the most broken of hearts. God is there, God is here. Through you, through me, through every single human being who seeks Christ in  everyone, everywhere, no exceptions, God is there.
And that, my friends is the good news extracted from that darkest of dies. Who seeks the one who is lost and in danger, leaving behind the 99 who are safe and sound? God does.
Today is a sad day in our history, a painful day. But it is also a Gospel day. Because on that day, as the world wept, so did God. As the heroes of 9/11 ran into instead of away from horror, God was with them, as the search for survivors which would turn out to be futile carried on day after day, God was with them. Who searches for the one lost sheep out of a hundred? God does.
Who searches for the one lost coin and then spends three times as much money celebrating finding the coin? God does.

Wedding Homily Liz and Mike Sept 9, 2016

Weddings are great---everyone is happy, the couple looks great, we have a great party to look forward to---weddings are glorious occasions.
But what the wedding sets into motion—a marriage--- isn’t all sweetness and light. A marriage as Mother Ellen proclaimed a few moments ago, should not be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, because frankly marriage, like any relationship, takes work. But, as our reading from Ecclesiastes so poignantly points out---it’s worth it.
The reading offers this advice for you as you begin your marriage: “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil.”
This statement is made right after the author extols the desolation of a miserly couple who toil in isolation---far removed from any human community. The point the author is making is clear---solitary toil is pointless compared to toil and life together in community.
God has built us to live in community, to be in relationship. We can do so much more, we can be so much more, when engaged in relationships, in community. Not just marriage, but all kinds of relationships, all kinds of connections. It’s when we’re relating that the fullness of God is expressed.
Even the very fullness of God is expressed in and through relationship.
One God, three persons.
One God, three varied ways of reaching out to us.
One God, three expressions of that Divine Being: The parental Creator of all God, the fully human, fully divine Jesus Christ God and God the Holy Spirit, that which energizes us in our communities, in our relationships to do good, to be faithful and to further the kingdom here on earth.
God’s all about relationships and community. And marriage is just that—a relationship, a community. Individually you’ve each brought communities to this relationship. The communities of Liz, the communities of Mike. Together, you’ve created additional communities, the communities of LizAndMike.
The point is, God created us to be together because we are stronger together---
Of course there are many ways to be in relationship---they’re as varied as the personalities here today, but the important thing is to find how you –how each of us---is fulfilled.
What relationship, what community makes your heart sing?
What relationship, what community brings you closer to the Holy?
With whom is it that you most often see the face of God?
It’s a quest for us all.
At this time and in this place your quest pauses here to acknowledge THIS relationship, THIS community of LizAndMike. A time to pause and celebrate the sanctification of this relationship, of the community---the family---you are and that which you’ll become.
For God loves when we find others to be with, to love and to nurture.
Liz and Mike, today we sanctify what has become.
Today we celebrate what will be.
And today we thank our Creator God that our very beings find their fulfillment in each other.
May God bless you this day, may God bless you every day and may those who witness your love, your community, your commitment to each other be strengthened in their own relationships and their own communities. And above all, as Paul writes: clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Amen.

Proper 18 Yr C Sept 4, 2016 Labor On, You Are God’s Creation

 +I love Labor Day weekend. Not because it’s a weekend of cookouts and relaxing. Not because it’s the last hurrah before the routine of the September through June world takes root. No I love Labor Day because it serves as a reminder to me that God sanctifies our daily work, our labor. Do you know that we have several prayers in our prayer book devoted to our Labor? ( pg. 259 and 261 in the BCP) They reflect two things—the importance of fair Labor practices, that every worker’s dignity is respected, and the sanctification of our work—that God has given us the ability and the expectation that we will work, that we will labor. The prayers, [as well as the Hymn Come Labor On,] tells us that there’s work to do and that, when we work hard with dignity and integrity, God is pleased.

Pleased with our work. All our work. Not just work we do specifically “for the church.” God sanctifies all human labor because work is part of the human condition--- God notices our work and God sanctifies it.
Of course, we all want to be acknowledged for the work we do, to be told that what we’ve labored at all day, all week, all career, is worthwhile and appreciated. But it usually isn’t God we turn to for that praise.
You see, when we’re focused on being acknowledged by our bosses, by the folks who sign our checks, by our friends and family; we forget that the acknowledgement that really matters, the honor that really counts, is that which we get from God.
And, remembering God in all we do is the message in today’s Gospel.

When Jesus tells us to hate mother, father, sister, brother he means, don’t lose our primary focus— remember God in all we do, not just in times of trouble, not just in times of joy-- but always and everywhere.
He knows how easy it is to get caught up in the here and now, to pay attention to the loudest voices around us, the voices of judgment and expectation put forth by our co workers, our bosses, our friends and our family.
Jesus is reminding us that what we do---that everything we do—is because of and for God.
As stated in the Book of Jeremiah, God, the great potter, has molded us from non-distinct balls of clay into the wonderful vessels we are today, complete with the unique attributes which make you, you and me, me. Each of us fulfills a different purpose within creation. Remember the old hymn, I Sing a Song of the Saints of God? It details how all of us are saints in the eyes of God, no matter what we do. We can be teachers or doctors, shepherds or queens, soldiers or priests, or even slain by a fierce wild beast…..but the point is we all have specific gifts bestowed upon us by our creator and our job is to go out into the world utilizing these gifts, as best we can.
Every job, even the wonderful job of being a priest and the Diocesan Canon has drudgery attached to it. There are things I need to do on a daily basis which don’t feel, at first blush, to be furthering God’s kingdom. I your jobs feel the same way. But, and here is the point, no matter how mundane, when we’re doing our work we are living into the life God created for us.


Because, we are God’s creation and all we do is of God.
When we get so caught up in just “getting through the day,” when our daily tasks become a burden, when we forget to see God at work even in the most tedious of tasks, we’re turning our back on God.
Jesus is saying, “don’t let anything stand in the way of your love of God. ….it doesn’t matter if you can’t see the glory in what you do every day. . .because God sees it, and God has sanctified it.”
The regular-ness of our daily lives, our jobs as clerks, teachers, farmers, construction workers, bankers, homemakers and retired people… is where we live out the fullness of our faith.

The regular-ness of our daily lives—our Monday through Saturday lives, is more sacred than our Sunday morning lives. For it’s in our daily lives that others are able to see God’s grace at work in our lives.
What we have to do, what our task is as put forth by Jesus, is to do our very best to seek and serve Christ in all people—even when our bosses, our co-workers, our classmates, all our companions along the way ----drive us nuts, make us mad, hurt our feelings and exasperate us.
That’s when we’re carrying the cross of Christ. Carrying our cross and following Jesus is not proselytizing it’s not preaching…it’s living our regular, ordinary day in and day out lives.
If we live our lives doing the best we can, seeking and serving Christ in all people---even in those people who drive us nuts---then we’re carrying the cross of Christ, we’re ---evangelizing. Because, by being who God molded us to be, we show others that God loves us all and sanctifies all that we do.
Next week, your new priest, Randi will be standing here. Together you will embark on a season of getting to know each other. A season of trying some new things, a season of perhaps doing some old things in new ways. It will be a time of adjustment and it will be a time for great celebration….as you embark on the next phase of life at St John’s [St Andrews] know that God is with you in all you do, loving you for who you are and who you are becoming, because you are God’s beloved masterpiece, formed to be exactly who it is you will become.

So go forth with my abundant love and unceasing prayers.  Labor on with Pastor Randi, remembering that all your work is beautiful in God’s sight. +

5 Grafted Upon Our Hearts Proper 17c Aug 28, 2016 St John’s Grace

m+I love today’s “prayer of the day,” Lord of all power and might, the author and giver of all good things: Graft in our hearts the love of your Name; increase in us true religion; nourish us with all goodness; and bring forth in us the fruit of good works; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen.
But then I loved it even more after I read the lesson from the prophet Jeremiah… in this reading the grafting of love takes on a new dimension, here God is bereft. God’s sad and a little angry---“why did your ancestors abandon me? Why do you love these gods of human composition more than you love me---the source of all love, the creator of all things, the maker of humankind? Why don’t you love me?”
Now a more cynical person may wonder why God gives a rat’s patoot about us, after all we’ve done little to bring God joy over the past millennia. But God persists...always striving for us to enter the fullness of creation; that is to be joined, wholly and completely with God.
How is God’s love grafted upon our hearts? How is our love grafted upon God’s?
By being one.
By joining in that crazy dance with God that began on the first day, at the first light, with that first breath. A dance that humanity repeatedly steps out of, much to God’s heartbreak.
It’s a miracle that God has hung in with us this long.
[I guess that’s why God is God and we are…not. ]
Which brings us to today’s Gospel reading about where we should sit at a dinner party…which then leads us to merging onto a highway, what to do with your shopping cart in the Wegmans’ parking lot, and how to live into who it is God want SJG to be! [Yes I’m serious]
Let’s review—Jesus berates those who sat in the places of honor at the dinner party. He’s pretty blunt: “all who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Remember, being humble doesn’t mean being “less than.” It means making sure that your good fortune is not at the expense of another. It means making sure that every human being is respected and that their dignity is intact.
And that’s where merging onto the 33 and where to put your grocery cart comes into play.
Don’t you get frustrated when you’re trying to merge onto the 33 and the cars in the right hand lane won’t let you in? It’s infuriating! Now consider when you’re trying to exit a parking lot onto a busy street, or are again trying to merge onto a highway and a car slows to make sure you can slip into traffic. Nice. It may seem silly, but these are examples of hubris vs. humility…of entitlement—where I need to go in my car is far more important than where you need to go, so I’m going to move along, oblivious of you and your needs----vs--- realizing that we’re all in this together and where you need to go is as important to you as where I need to go …of working with one another vs. working against one another. Of being in community rather than in competition.
OK so what about that grocery cart? There was a meme going around FB this week showing a picture of a grocery cart. The caption read: I don’t know a single successful person that leaves their shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot.
I agree—who’s so important that they don’t have the time to take their shopping cart to the corral? The people who don’t are at best, lazy, or at worst, entitled. Returning your shopping cart so that others aren’t inconvenienced (or their cars aren’t damaged) is an act of common human decency. It’s of being in community rather than being above or beyond community.
The golden rule is clear—we do unto others as we wish done unto us. We’re in this together folks. We get nowhere if we place ourselves before others.
That brings me to SJG. I know you’re trying to find your way, trying to define just who you are. I know there has been some upheaval and some disagreement. I know that some of you are worried. But--and I’m fairly certain Judy has been preaching this for awhile now---your success isn’t about how many people are sitting here each Sunday, it isn’t about how many baptisms or confirmations or even pledging units you have compared to other churches. You’re not in competition with them, nor should you focus on bringing people through these doors.  No YOUR success is in how you, as a community of faith, bring that Love of God--- you know that which God longs to have grafted on our hearts, that which makes your heart sing, that thing that you do, collectively here at SJG that brings you, as a community of faith, closer to God. That thing you do that grafts you unto God and God unto you----bring that to the world around you, to this community of the Elmwood Village.
 What is it that makes you, as a congregation, sing God’s praises the loudest? That’s the thing, that’s the thing that you need to focus on, for when you do the thing that makes your hearts sing, then God’s love is forever grafted upon your hearts and all matter of things shall be well. Amen.

Proper 16 Yr C Aug 21, 2016: Straighten Up and Fly Right, God’s Got This.

+I don’t know too much about horses. But Pete does. She showed horses throughout her childhood and the Olympic equestrian events (along with the Kentucky Derby, The Preakness and The Belmont) are “must see” tv in the Dempesy-Sims’ household. While watching the horse jumping competition this week, I learned a fascinating fact ---horses can’t see directly in front of them. So when they approach the jump, they have to trust their rider to keep them from slamming into the wall. Of course, considering a horse’s anatomy it makes sense that they can’t see straight ahead—after all their eyes are on the side of their head. Now, the horse doesn’t know any differently and if you watch horses you’ll see how they adapt to primarily having peripheral vision.
The woman in today’s gospel can’t see directly in front of herself either. The osteoporosis from which she suffers has caused her to be so bent that her view of the world is confined to the ground directly below her. To see the world more broadly requires adaptation: a painful twist of the neck or an arduous lifting of her eyes to see more than the feet of whomever stands directly in front of her.
How many of us only see what is right in front of us? How many of us are so burdened by whatever ails us that all we see is the ground directly below? How many of us are so weighed down by darkness that we fail to see the light surrounding us on every side? How many of us have adapted to all the stress in our lives by just dealing with whatever is right in front of us, missing out on the beauty and opportunity around us?
We don’t need to have eyes on the side of our head, or a spinal deformity to keep our gaze downward, our worldview, narrow. The stress of daily life, the pressure of our jobs, the strife in our families, the worries in our hearts can keep our heads down.
The “bent woman” isn’t looking for Jesus, no doubt she was used to being overlooked by the folks at the synagogue, used to being less than the able bodied people around her. But Jesus? He has a laser focus when it comes to the outcast. When he entered the synagogue he saw her right away, and called her over. Jesus notices the un-noticed, He reaches out to the Other, He touches the untouchables. We don’t know what synagogue this is—what we do know is that he has turned his face toward Jerusalem, so he is traveling along the road that runs from Galilee down through Samaria and into Judea. Along the way Jesus does a lot of teaching, a lot of preaching and quite a bit of healing. So it would be easy, if you were reading the Gospel of Luke straight through, to read this excerpt as just another healing, just another miracle performed by Jesus. But as I spent time with the Gospel this week something more became apparent. You see I don’t read this just as another miraculous healing story …I see it as a story that speaks to each and every one of us as a way forward, a way out from under the burdens weigh us down…the burdens that, as Jesus tells the woman, Satan has laid upon us.
OK, a little bit about Satan...Satan is short hand for the forces of darkness, the forces of evil that exist in this world. It’s clear that the forces of light and goodness, which is God, are in a seemingly endless battle with evil and darkness---Satan. God is all that is good and bright and hopeful and true. Satan is all that is evil and dark and hopeless and false. The forces of darkness are at work in this world, the forces of darkness are at work in our world, in our lives, right now.
Lest you think I’m overstating this, look at how Jesus characterizes the woman in today’s gospel: “whom Satan bound for eighteen long years…” Bound by Satan. While that may sound a bit like something the old Saturday Night Live character, the church lady, might say, it is also true. This world can get so bound by Satan, our own lives can get so bound by Satan….
Paralyzed by fear? That’s Satan.
Unable to forgive? That’s Satan.
Full of doubt? Satan. Full of hopelessness? Satan. Full of despair? Satan. The stuff that weighs us down is Not of God. The hatred that leads to terrorist attacks, the despair that fuels this crazy presidential campaign, the inability to forgive that keeps our families in turmoil comes from darkness, from evil, from Not God.
  But here’s the Good News… no matter how fiercely the darkness tries to envelope us, no matter how hard Satan tries, we have the perfect antidote:  God, the source of all good and of all light. God, who takes our bentness, who takes our downward gaze, who takes all that weighs us down and straightens our backs, raises our eyes, lightens our burden and sets us free.
So this morning, no matter what binds us individually, no matter what binds us collectively----no matter what version of darkness and despair that happens to infect us, it’s temporary, not permanent; it’s curable, not terminal, it’s of this world, not of God’s. So shed what weighs you down, straighten up and look around, and allow yourself to be enveloped in the light, love and wonder that is God. +

Balancing what he knew as divine and what he felt as human. Proper 15 Yr C Aug 14 2016

+Today Jesus is riled up—he’s fed up with the disciples, annoyed with his followers and really stressed about what he’ll face in Jerusalem. He’s on edge, he’s ticked off, he’s scared.
In other words, he’s being really human.
Jesus as God incarnate---God in the flesh---is a cornerstone of our faith. We embrace Jesus the man born to Mary and Joseph, AND Christ the Son of God as two sides of the same being. While this seeming contradiction----being fully human and fully divine----is fundamental to our faith… have you ever stopped to think about how it must have been for Jesus?
How did he balance being fully of God and fully of Mary----how’d he balance what he knew as divine and what he felt as human? Think about it---the human Jesus went through the same developmental milestones we all do--- he may have been colicky! He learned to crawl, to walk, to talk….growing up as we all do….through trial and error…. fits and starts.
While we know very little about Jesus’ childhood and adolescence we do get some glimpses  that suggest Jesus was a fairly normal boy who, as he grew, began to test the limits of his parents. At times he drove them nuts and at times he was positive they didn’t understand him. Yes, my guess is Jesus went through the same growing pains we all do…but…….
how much did he know about who he really was?
In Luke’s Gospel it appears Jesus came to terms with his identity and his fate about three chapters earlier than what we’ve been reading this summer. It’s pretty safe to assume that after his transfiguration in chapter 9, after he famously, “set his face toward Jerusalem (9:51),” Jesus realizes that his message of peace and love was going to be met with fierce and violent opposition and that he would need to fall victim to that violence to fully complete his earthly task…
Such a realization would cause anyone to be a little on edge….
And Jesus, as we’ve read these past few weeks in Luke’s Gospel, is getting pretty edgy.
So today we encounter a Jesus who realizes that his time is short and his task is immense. Today we encounter a Jesus who’s finally come to grips with his identity and doesn’t understand why his followers don’t get it---today we encounter a man having a bit of an identity crisis.
He was anxious, he was stressed …..he was being very human…and if we really believe what we say we believe---that Jesus is the Son of God, born of a human woman, fully human and fully divine…. then we should embrace this Gospel, difficult as it is to hear---not because we want families to be torn apart, not because we support some reign of terror to accompany the end times---but because God so loved us, God came to walk among us, to grow among us and to die among us so that, once and for all we’d know---that we’re never alone.
That’s the purpose of the gospels---this collection of stories, parables and teachings--- proof that we are loved beyond all reason. And that’s good, because being a Christian, as outlined by these same Gospels, isn’t easy.
Discomfort is a big part of Christianity….it is uncomfortable to stand up for what is right when it isn’t popular, it’s uncomfortable to raise your pledge when money seems tight,  it’s uncomfortable to pray for the people you don’t like, the people who wish us harm, the people it would be so much easier to hate.
Christianity, with it’s clear and non-negotiable message of peace and justice for all, demands that we challenge the status quo when that status quo impedes any human being from living life on an equal footing with everyone else, it demands that when we know of injustice we do something to stop it, it demands that when everyone shrugs their shoulders and says, “that’s the way it has always been” we say, “no that’s not acceptable, there’s another way.” Christianity demands that we be the pain in the patoot to the world. Christianity demands that we make ourselves and other people uncomfortable as long as inequality and injustice exists on earth.
Christianity demands much of us.
It’s not easy. And in today’s Gospel Jesus is telling us that being faithful can be very messy, very frustrating, very infuriating and at times pretty darn hard.
But, because we know that God came to live among us, as one of us in the person of Jesus Christ, we also know that, as we stand up for what is right and just, as we fight the good fight against violence and evil, degradation and despair, we’re not alone…
…no matter who might abandon us along the way, no matter who may disagree with what we believe, we’re never alone. We never have been and we never will be.
Because God has been where we are, and then some. Because God, given to us in the person of Jesus Christ knows how hard it is, because God’s felt the anger, the loneliness and the terror which is part of our human condition this Gospel today offers us Good News. Good News that although being a Christian may not be easy, and it may not be popular and it may not always feel good, it’s never ever lonely. And for that we can all say, Amen.

Being Rich Toward God. July 31, Wilson/Burt Proper 13 Yr C

Many years ago I worked with cocaine-exposed children and their mothers. We had a beautiful playroom full of brand new toys. LOTS OF THEM. What we quickly learned is that too many fun shiny toys would completely overwhelm the children. I think the theory holds true for all children, but especially for these cocaine-exposed kids, too much "stuff" stressed them out and caused them to fall apart.

 Life is full of stuff... Stuff that needs our attention. Stuff that distracts, consumes and at times, overwhelms us. 

It seems the more complicated our lives become, the less connection we have with God. 

Riches on earth pull us away, distract us from riches in heaven.

The riches, the STUFF of life pulls so many of us into the rat race of the here and the now that we forget the forever and the eternal. Riches in this life often make us forget our richness in God. 

This Gospel is about being rich toward self vs being rich toward God.

How rich are you toward God?

Okay time for a couple of disclaimers.

First, having stuff, being wealthy, is not a bad thing. Second, we're all wealthy. The United States is the wealthiest nation on earth and to the rest of the world we all, even the poorest among us, are wealthy. So even though it's tempting to, while listening to the parable of the rich fool, as this story is known, to say “well if I was rich I wouldn't behave that way...” we can't say that  because we are rich.

But lots of us don’t feel rich. Many of us feel poor. Which, actually, is at the heart of this Gospel. The man in the parable wants to relax to eat drink and be merry. And he’ll do that just as soon as he builds enough barns. But there’s the rub, he’ll never have enough barns. Because he’ll never feel like he has enough…because he isn’t filling his barn with God, he’s filling his barn with self. He isn’t filling his barn with hope, he’s filling his barn with fear. He isn’t filling his barn with true abundance, he’s filling his barn with a terror of scarcity.

The having of stuff isn't the problem according to Jesus, the distraction it causes, is. 

In the gospel the man who wants Jesus to tell his brother to be fair with the family inheritance has just lost his father. Inheritances only come into play when someone has died and in this case this man, and his brother, have lost their father. But does he come to Jesus seeking  solace? No he comes to Jesus seeking righteous justification. He comes to Jesus to make sure he gets what's his. He comes to Jesus about stuff. About external, material things. He comes to Jesus distracted by “want.”

He’s not looking to fill a spiritual emptiness, he’s looking to fill his barn. 

Having stuff isn't bad. Wanting stuff isn’t bad. Getting distracted by the stuff , being derailed by the want is.

Being rich in cash and goods isn't bad, letting cash and goods block our connection to God, is. 

Being rich isn't bad, being poor toward God is.

Are we rich toward God or are we poor toward God?

I feel rich when I find myself in silence. No phone ringing, no email dinging, no tv or radio blaring.

I feel rich toward God I sit on the back deck and watch the sunrise. 

I feel rich toward God when I put everything else aside and stand behind that altar, celebrating the Eucharist.

I feel rich toward God when I volunteer at the Eaton Summer Reading Camp.

I feel rich toward God when I visit parishes across this diocese and revel in all the work that the parishes engage in, in the name of God.

I feel poor toward God when I forget that this is God’s world, not ours. 

I feel poor toward God when I forget that God’s in charge, not me. 

I feel poor toward God when all that stuff that makes me feel rich toward God gets put on the back burner. 

     This parable isn’t about the evils of having too much. It’s about being driven to distraction as we keep up with all the “stuff” filling our playrooms, our barns, our hearts and souls. It’s about distraction, its’ about all the stuff that keeps us from noticing the love of God and offering love of neighbor. 

This whole section of Luke’s Gospel—what we’ve been reading this summer--- is about what God wants us to value. It’s written to teach us that what matters to God and what should matter to us is that we bring all that we are and all that we to this altar---where we are fed the bread of life and drink from the cup of salvation-- for when we do that, when we stop worrying about stuff and start trusting in God, our barns will be full of something more valuable than stuff and more rewarding than want, our barns, our playrooms,  our hearts and our souls will be filled with the abundant richness that is God. And really, what more could we ever want or need? Amen. 

It's been awhile since I have posted a sermon, mainly because I haven't been preaching that much and when I have they've been recycled from 3 years ago. However, last week and this week I preached very similar sermons that dealt with two things: the difficulty in being a disciple of Christ and the importance of being a disciple of Christ even though it is difficult.
I'm not sure anyone in the two parishes I was preaching wanted to hear what I said, and I know at least one member of one of the parishes was hopping mad at what I said. But....being a disciple isn't easy, is it? So here are two sermons, both of a similar ilk.

Proper 8, Yr C June 26, 2016
Being a follower of Jesus isn’t easy.

Jesus expects us to love everyone, everywhere, no exceptions.

Jesus expects us to clothe the naked, feed the hungry and welcome the stranger.

Jesus expects us to respect the dignity of every single human being. Every single one. And when we witness someone NOT being treated with dignity, he expects that we will do something about it. Us. You. And me.
Jesus’ expectation seem pretty clear.

He expects us to follow him.

He expects us to do as he did.

He expects us to, above all else, be like him.

And what he wants us to know, what he is saying so emphatically in today’s Gospel, is that following him, being his disciple, proclaiming him as our Lord, our Savior, our God, isn’t easy.

It isn’t safe.

It isn’t comfortable.

He’s saying that before we call him Lord we better be ready to set our own faces for Jerusalem.

In other words, that we, along with Jesus, must be willing to die in order to live.

 We must be willing to die to the status quo in order to live into the dream of God.

We must be willing to die to those who embrace exclusion and isolationism in order to live into the dream of God.

We must be willing to die to what is comfortable, easy and familiar in order to live into the dream of God.

And just what is the dream of God?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with our God.

The dream of God is to love others as God loves us.

The dream of God is to persevere in resisting evil and whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord.

The dream of God is to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ

The dream of God is to strive for justice and peace among all people

The dream of God is just that, a dream.

The realization of that dream is NOT up to God. It is up to us.

And so my friends, as this nation delves further and further into fear mongering and hate speech, as innocents across our land, from school rooms, to church halls, to nightclubs and to offices are slaughtered by the evil and the deranged among us because somehow someway they accessed assault weapons, we have to do something.

As we, each and every one of us, may wonder what in the world we can do; as each and every one of us may, at times, feel as if the problems are more than we can possibly tackle; as each and every one of us may wish that we could stay safe and secure in our little corner of the world, nestled here in rural Wyoming County, in picturesque Perry New York,
I have this to say:

Jesus doesn’t ask us to wait for someone else.
Jesus doesn’t expect us to be brave, he expects us to be scared out of our wits that by speaking our mind we may lose friends, family members, fellow parishioners and then doing it any way.

Jesus doesn’t ask us to be polite.

Jesus doesn’t ask us to turn our backs on the hated and the lonely, on the hungry and naked, on the sick and the suffering, on the evil and the angry.

No Jesus asks us, as he himself did in this morning’s Gospel, to turn ourselves toward all that is wrong in this world, all that is scary, all that is evil, all that is confusing and Jesus asks us to work---long and hard and straight and sure--- to bring that dream of God’s to reality. Here.
And Now.

Because Jesus asks, if not us, now, then who, when?

Today Jesus turns his face toward Jerusalem, where everything he has been preaching will end up causing his death. Today, at this time of our history, with innocents being killed, with hate taking over our airwaves, with fear of our neighbor leading us to build walls, deport people and look at the other with disdain and malice, Jesus is asking us to stand up, speak out and bring God’s dream to fruition.

Right here. And right now.

Amen.

***********

Proper 9, Year C, July 3, 2016

+This morning’s collect reads, in part:

“O God you have taught us to keep all your commandments by loving you and your neighbor.” 

Sounds simple, right?

But, as Jesus explains in today’s Gospel and as he explained in last week’s, following Jesus, being his disciple, is not easy.

Because being a follower of Jesus, being his disciple, proclaiming him as our Lord and our God makes us lambs in the midst of wolves. 

It makes us bait. 

It makes us targets.

It makes us vulnerable….because love challenges fear, love defeats hate and love, when spread throughout the world, shakes up the status quo.

Love makes a lot of people really uncomfortable.

    Loving God and Loving our Neighbor is not being nice and polite and considerate.  

Loving God and Loving our Neighbor sometimes---oftentimes----means ticking off our other neighbor, our family, our fellow parishioners, our co-workers.

Loving God and Loving our neighbor means we have to stand up, speak out and say no to injustice.

Loving God and loving our neighbor means we have to stand up, speak out and say no to hate and intolerance.

Loving God and Loving our Neighbor means standing up to those who would exclude and belittle others because of the color of their skin, the gender of their beloved or the name of their God.

Loving God and Loving our Neighbor means confronting those who spew hate speech and showering them with the Love speech of Christ---that is, disputing their hate, challenging their intolerance and refusing to accept that there are just some things (and some people) that cannot be changed.

Loving God and Loving our neighbor means welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked and feeding the hungry. 

Loving God and Loving our Neighbor means seeking out that stranger and dismantling the systems that lead to people being hungry, naked, lonely and afraid. 

Loving God and Loving our Neighbor means being afraid to say out loud that assault weapons are designed for one thing and one thing only: killing people and that it is about time we had sensible laws that kept those weapons out of the hands of the deranged and the evil…being afraid to say it, but SAYING IT ANYWAY.

Loving God and Loving our neighbors isn’t easy, but it is absolutely, positively our job as followers of Jesus, as proclaimers of the Good News, as Christians.

     Loving God and Loving our neighbor is God’s dream for us.

It’s God’s goal. 

     But the only way it can be reached, the only way God’s dream can come true is through us. 

You and Me. 

Here and Now.

    We are God’s foot soldiers. Just as Jesus sent out the seventy, two by two, God, through our baptism sends us out, one by one, two by two, three by three, congregation by congregation: to Love everyone as we ourselves are loved by God. No exceptions. No exclusions, No “yes buts” everyone, everywhere, always.

       We do this by respecting the dignity of every single human being.  And when we witness someone NOT being treated with dignity, we do something about it. 

You. Me. Us. Every. Single. Time. 

     Loving God and loving our neighbor isn’t comfortable, it isn’t easy, it isn’t safe. 

But it is what God wants for and expects from us.  

     And that, my friends, can feel really overwhelming, can’t it? It’s tempting to say, “no, this is too hard. This is too big. I can’t do anything to stop this. All I can do is pray, pray that someone smarter, someone bigger, someone stronger can come and fix it.”

    But, as Jesus repeatedly tells us, as the prophets repeatedly show us, as God continually expects of us, it’s the least among us, the most unlikely among us, the regular folk-- you know, you and me-- to change the world. 

One act of loving our neighbor at a time.

One act of Loving our God at a time. 

    So as we settle into the heart of a glorious Western New York summer, as we gather with friends and family to celebrate this amazing country of ours, as we slow down a bit to rest and rejuvenate, I challenge you…I challenge me….to make this dream of God a reality by standing up, by speaking out and making sure that at this time in the history of this world of ours, Love---our Love as given to us by God--- will win. Not through a distant miracle of God but through a very close, very personal miracle of God: you and me. 

Amen.