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?