EPIPHANY C 2022

 

 

King Herod noticed as the Magi made their way to Bethlehem. He wasn’t pleased. Herod knew something about these star-gazers from the East. He knew it had to be something big to bring them all that way. And it was something big…and from the perspective of Herod… something very bad…for they were  recognizing the birth of a messiah—THE messiah who promised to change…EVERYTHING. Herod was incensed; you see, there's no one more sensitive to a threat--- real/or imagined-- than a puppet king with an inferiority complex. Out of this anger, this fear, the King tried mightily to get at that baby, that king, that messiah, that threat…but he was outwitted by the Magi who took a different route home while the Holy family escaped to Egypt. They needed to avoid Herod at all costs—for this baby was something to be adored, AND something to protect.

On this second Sunday of Christmas, we look forward to the coming Epiphany and to what the ongoing manifestation of Christ in the world around us and the world within us means, and we ask—-just who is Jesus?

 A King, a God, a man, a Son, a prophet, a preacher, a revolutionary, a Messiah?

Yes.

And then some.

Who is he? What is he? Why is he? It's the question of the season of Epiphany: of noticing, realizing, manifesting.

         Or are you already past it? Has the tree come down, the lights lost their charm, have the presents been tossed aside?

Are we still awash in the wonder of Christmas?

Or have we moved on, back to the same ol’ same ol’?

      Our Epiphany task is to open our eyes to what, how, where Emmanuel “God among us” is taking shape.

It’s time to ponder, adjust, understand, comprehend. To adapt.

A time to notice how the miracle that just happened manifests itself in our lives.

     It’s a tall order, I know. The stores are replacing Christmas and New Year’s displays with Valentine’s Day, all those mundane things that demand much of our attention are nagging at us.

But let’s not forget: something astounding has happened.

God in the flesh has come to live among us.

Remember, at the moment of the birth, the cosmos cried out in exultation by flashing that star…

…The heavenly hosts burst into song across the Bethlehem hills.

…The shepherds noticed.

…The star gazers in the east noticed.

…Herod noticed.

But have we?

     Epiphany is all about the reality of “God among us” showing and shining in the world.

Does this reality excite us, or terrify us?

Who are we in this story? The fascinated Magi, the cowering, plotting Herod or the terrified and thrilled, scared and amazed shepherds? Or maybe Mary and Joseph, quietly pondering, silently trusting…

Are we filled with expectation about just who this Jesus will be and what he’ll do with us and through us?

Or are we Herod, threatened by anything that challenges the status quo, leery of anything new, anything different?

 The birth of our Savior caused the stars, planets, and galaxies to erupt in shiny celebration, intriguing the Magi, terrifying the  shepherds, baffling the Holy Family, infuriating Herod.

what about us?

Are we bursting with this Good News?

Are we ready to arise and let the light of Christ shine upon us?

I hope so.

Because we have work to do— in the world around us and here at St James.

Are we ready to let the light of Christ’s manifestation—-his undying love, his never ending guidance, his longing to bring all of God’s creatures together in peace—-are we ready to let that light shine from us and all that we do in the name of Jesus? Will the people who drive by this place feel the warmth of that light? Do we feel the warmth of that light?

St James is at a crossroads. Where we are now is not where we’ll be at the end of 2022–thanks be to God. So let’s saddle up and like the Magi before us, search for where this Christmas star will lead us.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

EPIPHANY 2C 2022

     Maybe Jesus doesn’t think he’s ready. Perhaps on some level he doesn’t want to have his first miracle (or “sign” as John refers to them) be some type of party game. But Mary is wise…somehow she intuits, she just knows that the time’s right for Jesus to shine his light….so over his harsh rebukes Mary calmly tells the servants to do whatever Jesus says. She’s’s not deterred by her son’s protests, rather Mary’s encouraged by what she knows, what she senses, God’s urging her to do. She ignores the human side of Jesus and encourages his divine side to get to work. It’s time.
    Mary, in the quiet way she moves through the stories of Jesus’s life, gives Jesus—and us—-an important lesson: what God needs us to do is not always what we want to do. As a matter of fact it is often exactly what we don’t want to do.
Jesus was at the wedding as a guest—he had no intention of being anything other than a regular wedding guest. He was sure: it wasn’t his time.
But Mary, she wasn’t concerned with anything except what she sensed, what she heard deep within her.and what she heard, what she felt was…it was time.
Throughout the stories of Mary, we hear that she pondered.  
Whether it was the announcement from the angel Gabriel, the wisdom offered by the Magi, or at the presentation of  Jesus at the temple; each time Mary experienced another step in the amazing journey of being Jesus’s mother we’re told that she took what happened, and pondered it in her heart. She quieted herself enough, was comfortable enough with the discomfort of not knowing what it all meant that she let things linger in her heart, soul and mind, listening for when more would be revealed.
Mary listened, waited, and listened some more. This devotion to waiting, wondering, looking and listening led Mary to be a wise counsel to Jesus (and to us) through this  journey of increasing awareness, the season of Epiphany.
    One of the overlooked parts of Epiphany is understanding that the Messiah coming in the form of a human being, born of a human woman was not the way it was supposed to happen. The Messiah coming and taking so many of the beloved traditional beliefs of Judaism and turning them upside down and inside out was not what anyone thought would happen. They thought that all the traditions of the faith—-those handed down for generations —-would continue to serve the faith forever. The messiah was to fit the model worshipped and longed for for centuries. The Messiah wasn’t supposed to be unexpected, unusual and challenging.
It’s why, in my opinion, the Wedding at Cana was the first miracle, the first sign pointing to the arrival of this long-awaited Messiah:
The wine is running out and the wedding host is in danger of being shamed. Although unhappy about it, Jesus obeys his mother and saves the day.
But, the miracle at Cana isn’t done simply to save the day….it’s done to show us that this Son of God is here to save us every day and in a completely new way.
You see, the water used in the miracle is poured into the jars used—for centuries—in the Jewish rite of purification, a cornerstone of the old covenant… but Jesus uses them for a new thing—creating wine. The old way is adapted and a new way emerges.
From the restrictions of the old emerges the hope and joy of the new.
Much how new wine bursts old wineskins, God, through Jesus, bursts out of the old in a big, abundant and extravagant way.
This first miracle of Jesus is not just a little something. It’s a whole lot of something big.
The new came to the Jews of ancient Israel in Jesus’s time and it comes now, too.
May we all quiet the voices in our head that begrudge the new long enough to, like Mary,  ponder and then notice how Jesus is leading us into something new, something  unexpected, the next step of what it means to be his followers.
Right here and right now.
Amen.

BOB MERTENS FUNERAL HOMILY

 You’ve all heard stories about Bob’s larger than life personality, his generosity and ever-present cigar and glass of bourbon. My job is to remind you all that death doesn’t mean that life has ended, it has simply changed. Changed from what we know as this temporal existence into the world of everlasting life of love, light and peace. A place where pain and sorrow are no more. And I will, …but not by talking specifically about the Bible readings we’ve just heard but instead talking about the golden rule and how Bob , someone I never saw set foot in the Church of the Good Shepherd for a service , embodied the golden rule, how Bob was probably just about the most deliberate and authentic Christian I ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regardless of his attendance at church.
I had this sense about Bob for the entire time I was acquainted with him—and I say acqauinted because the truth is I didn’t know Bob—I admired and enjoyed him whenever I saw him, but I certainly didn’t know him, per se. But the sense I always had about him was solidifieid when I sat down with the family to talk about who their husband, dad, brother, brother in law, grandpa, friend, was.
    In the Episcopal Church, the church Bob was raised in, we commit to the Golden Rule when we promise to: proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to love your neighbor as yourself and to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being. It all comes down to this: live your life as an example to what it means to be a decent human being, helping those who need help, lifting up the downtrodden, respecting the dignity of everyone we encounter.
Bob nailed that.
Whether it was the fact that he never met a stranger, or that he taught his kids to respect other people---especially teaching the boys the lost art of chivalry, or making sure Stacy knew that his grandpa was always thinking of him, even when Bob was on some trip to an exotic beach with Patty, or getting up before anyone else on vacation and making sure everything was in perfect order so everyone else could have a great time. Whether it was being a loyal and protective husband, big brother, brother in law, dad, grandpa, Bob was the epitome of the Golden Rule, of a good and faithful servant of all that is good and right in this world.
 Bob Mertens was a bear of a guy who was also a teddy bear, crying during he and Patty’s wedding. He was opionated, but even when he disagreed with you, he didn’treally care whther you agreed with him, he just wanted the encounter ended with a laugh because at the end of the day Bob Mertens knew who he was and he didn’t need anyone else to build him up…nor did he need to knock anyone else down. That just wasn’t who he was.
Who he was is probably best summed up by Patty who wrote this to me the other night:
“for almost 40 years, Bob was my anchor and my wings, ready for any adventure, our love grew stronger with each passing year. Through him I learned to be thankful for every measure of joy we were given. His laughter and love will live on in my heart.”
My friends, that is the descriptor of someone who follows the Golden Rule, of someone who follows the teachings of all the great faith traditions of our time: Love people,Treat them well, Show them that you care, Grant them the dignity they deserve as beloved children of God. Bob Mertens raised people up, he did not turn them away but welcomed them. To be loved by Bob was to be LOVED. As you move on in your lives without Bob’s earthly presence ask yourselves, what would Bob do? Because what Bob would do is exactly what God would have us do.
There’s no greater epitaph than this: Bob loved fully,laughed often, appreciated all the joy life brings and through it all he cared. He cared about you all. There is no greater measure of a person than their ability to exude and exemplify love in all things.
As his soul has been raised the choir of heaven has exclaimed:  Job well-done, good and faithful servant. Job well done. Rest in Peace, Bob. Until we meet again.
Amen.

CHRIST THE KING LAST PENTECOST 2022

 + 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 Kings 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’re 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 2022 as it was in the year 30.
I believe that many of us would be crucified today if Herod was our king,,,,
Today we celebrate the fact that for 2000 years we have left those in our wake scratching their heads and saying, “those Christians, 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.

EASTER 2022

 My favorite Far Side comic depicts a figure looking an awful lot like Albert Einstein standing in front of a blackboard. Three headings sit atop three columns on the board, marked Step One, Step Two and Step Three. Under Steps 1 and 3 are numbers and mathematical symbols, suggesting some type of formula. Step 2 has no such numbers, no symbols, no formula. Instead it reads, “And then a miracle happens.”
Sometimes, even in science, we just don’t know how we get from Step One to Step Three, we just know that we do.
Such are the attempts to explain the doctrine of the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit….one is tempted to give all the theological explanations and then just say, well then a miracle happens: Step 1 We Believe in God. Step Three we believe in a Blessed and Undivided Trinity. Step 2, a miracle happens which makes three into one, and one into three.
Some things can’t be explained as much as they can be experienced.
    In our reading from the Book of Proverbs Wisdom is a “being”—-Lady Wisdom is a title often given to the star of much of the Book of Proverbs. In today’s reading we hear that Wisdom was with God at creation…and she was. It is this same “Lady Wisdom” who over the generations, morphed into the Holy Spirit of the New Testament, as we hear Jesus discuss in our reading from John (it’s also interesting how the ancient writings about Lady Wisdom were clear in the gender identity and how bt the time we got to the 3rd and 4th centuries Lady Wisdom had become a male Holy Spirit (but I digress). Earlier in the Gospel of John, Jesus tells his disciples that he must return to his Father, with whom he has existed since the beginning of time.
Bottom line, our Christian doctrine is clear—-God comes to us in three persons—a creator, whom we generally refer to as God or as “Father,” a Redeemer whom we refer to as the Son, Jesus, and our Sustainer, Holy Wisdom or the Holy Spirit whose existence we commemorated last Sunday. We believe in a Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We believe in One God. One God who has three forms emanating from the same whole.
    Almost all expository attempts at describing the Trinity fall short because at its heart, the essence of the Trinity is relationship. And describing the essence of a relationship almost always fails.  God, in God’s three fold nature, is relationship.
    Retired Lutheran Pastor Richard Lischer shared this interpretation of the Trinity he discovered while contemplating a stained glass window depiction of the Trinity: “The fairly typical Trinitarian design of three interconnecting triangles reminded me of an aerial photograph taken of our small farming community.  Besides the straight and orderly rows of crops in the fields, another distinct pattern emerged: well-worn paths criss-crossing from one farmhouse to another. These paths, worn into the ground by generations of neighbors visiting and helping out in times of need, linked the town, they knit the community together.” Lischer’s description of the interconnectedness represented in those paths explains my experience of the Trinity.
God grooves paths in our lives, coming to us at different times and in different forms to address a variety of needs.
God, in three persons, Blessed Trinity, reaches out to us as a strong parental type when we feel small and childlike. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity reaches out to us as a forgiving friend in times of loneliness and confusion. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity reaches out to us as a sustaining force of inexplicable peace when we are bereft and lost, angry and bitter, hopeless and helpless. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity, longs to be a palpable presence in our lives, so God in God’s infinite wisdom, walks a number of paths to reach us.
Hopefully we are doing the same as we reach out to others. I envision a well-grooved path leading from our driveway to the Blessing Box where people, down on their luck walk up to the box and receive a true gift of the Holy Spirit—our love and our care. We groove a path from our driveway to the box and our neighbors groove another path from the box to their homes. The same is true of the Thrift Store—people make a path to donate, people make a path to receive. A relationship grooved not only in the sidewalk but in the hearts of those in need.

Step One: God Loves Us.
Step Three: God Wants to be With Us
Step Two: Through the miracle and mystery of God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity, God’s Love is always with us. Amen.

TRINITY SUNDAY 2022

 My favorite Far Side comic depicts a figure looking an awful lot like Albert Einstein standing in front of a blackboard. Three headings sit atop three columns on the board, marked Step One, Step Two and Step Three. Under Steps 1 and 3 are numbers and mathematical symbols, suggesting some type of formula. Step 2 has no such numbers, no symbols, no formula. Instead it reads, “And then a miracle happens.”
Sometimes, even in science, we just don’t know how we get from Step One to Step Three, we just know that we do.
Such are the attempts to explain the doctrine of the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit….one is tempted to give all the theological explanations and then just say, well then a miracle happens: Step 1 We Believe in God. Step Three we believe in a Blessed and Undivided Trinity. Step 2, a miracle happens which makes three into one, and one into three.
Some things can’t be explained as much as they can be experienced.
    In our reading from the Book of Proverbs Wisdom is a “being”—-Lady Wisdom is a title often given to the star of much of the Book of Proverbs. In today’s reading we hear that Wisdom was with God at creation…and she was. It is this same “Lady Wisdom” who over the generations, morphed into the Holy Spirit of the New Testament, as we hear Jesus discuss in our reading from John (it’s also interesting how the ancient writings about Lady Wisdom were clear in the gender identity and how bt the time we got to the 3rd and 4th centuries Lady Wisdom had become a male Holy Spirit (but I digress). Earlier in the Gospel of John, Jesus tells his disciples that he must return to his Father, with whom he has existed since the beginning of time.
Bottom line, our Christian doctrine is clear—-God comes to us in three persons—a creator, whom we generally refer to as God or as “Father,” a Redeemer whom we refer to as the Son, Jesus, and our Sustainer, Holy Wisdom or the Holy Spirit whose existence we commemorated last Sunday. We believe in a Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We believe in One God. One God who has three forms emanating from the same whole.
    Almost all expository attempts at describing the Trinity fall short because at its heart, the essence of the Trinity is relationship. And describing the essence of a relationship almost always fails.  God, in God’s three fold nature, is relationship.
    Retired Lutheran Pastor Richard Lischer shared this interpretation of the Trinity he discovered while contemplating a stained glass window depiction of the Trinity: “The fairly typical Trinitarian design of three interconnecting triangles reminded me of an aerial photograph taken of our small farming community.  Besides the straight and orderly rows of crops in the fields, another distinct pattern emerged: well-worn paths criss-crossing from one farmhouse to another. These paths, worn into the ground by generations of neighbors visiting and helping out in times of need, linked the town, they knit the community together.” Lischer’s description of the interconnectedness represented in those paths explains my experience of the Trinity.
God grooves paths in our lives, coming to us at different times and in different forms to address a variety of needs.
God, in three persons, Blessed Trinity, reaches out to us as a strong parental type when we feel small and childlike. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity reaches out to us as a forgiving friend in times of loneliness and confusion. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity reaches out to us as a sustaining force of inexplicable peace when we are bereft and lost, angry and bitter, hopeless and helpless. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity, longs to be a palpable presence in our lives, so God in God’s infinite wisdom, walks a number of paths to reach us.
Hopefully we are doing the same as we reach out to others. I envision a well-grooved path leading from our driveway to the Blessing Box where people, down on their luck walk up to the box and receive a true gift of the Holy Spirit—our love and our care. We groove a path from our driveway to the box and our neighbors groove another path from the box to their homes. The same is true of the Thrift Store—people make a path to donate, people make a path to receive. A relationship grooved not only in the sidewalk but in the hearts of those in need.

Step One: God Loves Us.
Step Three: God Wants to be With Us
Step Two: Through the miracle and mystery of God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity, God’s Love is always with us. Amen.

PROPER 11C

 +My parents were great entertainers. Together they had terrific parties and elegant dinners, always opening our house to a variety of guests. But, there was a downside to all that entertaining. As the day of the party approached, Mom became increasingly stressed—the house had to be spotless, the food perfect, the table settings, exquisite. Mom became anxious, irritable, and distracted. A lot like Martha in today’s gospel.
    This is a familiar story and because of how it’s been interpreted over the years, many people struggle with it.
For some, their role behind the scenes at church: on Altar Guilds, property committees, kitchen crews, seems disregarded and belittled by Jesus. Others find the fact that these two women are pitted against each other, upsetting. Before we wipe our hands clean of this story---I mean perhaps preaching on God’s anger with the Israelites in Amos would have been a better choice---let’s consider what Luke’s trying to get across here. In these four verses, Luke shows us that there are a number of ways to serve God, and that how we serve God doesn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that we do serve God--- at all times and in all places.
Still, it does seem that Jesus is siding with Mary doesn’t it?
 That somehow Martha was insulting Jesus while Mary was honoring him.
    I don’t think Jesus meant to suggest that Mary’s way was the only way, nor was he suggesting that Martha’s way was the wrong way….I think he used that moment—when Martha’s anxiety had taken firm hold—as a teachable moment.
    This scene immediately follows what we heard last week—the parable of the Good Samaritan---a story in which Jesus implores his followers to be do-ers of the Word not just hear-ers. In that parable the inaction of the priest and the Levite—both bound by Jewish law to not go to the man’s aid— are criticized by Jesus, while the hospitality—the tangible action of the Samaritan— is honored. Last week, Jesus said, “Go and do like wise.” Be do-ers of the Word.
    But then this week Jesus appears to contradict himself, praising the seeming inaction of Mary who sits at his feet to receive his word, while condemning the action of Martha who’s offering the culturally expected  hospitality —Jesus praises the hearer of the word, while condemning the do-er. What’s up with that?
But neither Jesus nor Luke is being contradictory. Instead they’re using these two different stories to illuminate how a community of Christians need both do-ers and hear-ers. Both receivers and givers.
Mary and Martha are two halves of what is needed to make a household work: their household in Bethany and the household of God. They are two halves of what makes God’s Kingdom hum.
    There’s no problem with Mary hearing the Word and Martha doing the Word. BUT, there is a problem afflicting Martha, a problem familiar to my mom, a problem familiar to many of us as we navigate our lives:
 anxiety, worry and distraction. Through Martha’s effort to love her neighbor as herself, she’s become anxious and distracted.
While focusing on her tasks, she’s lost sight of the goal.
The tasks of hospitality have gotten in the way of being hospitable. When the details of hospitality, the serving of food, the setting of the table [the liturgies, music and preaching] become more important than the welcome and love of neighbor, then we’ve all missed the mark.
In today’s Gospel Jesus was saying to Martha,” what you’ve done is enough, thank you. Now stop and let us be in fellowship.”
    Martha and Mary isn’t an “either or” proposition,  it’s a “Yes and” proposition.
 To Love and Serve the Lord requires giving AND receiving. To love and serve the Lord requires both speaking and listening. Both busyness and stillness.
Hospitality isn’t the issue.
Discipleship isn’t the issue.
Attentiveness is.
Jesus is saying, do the work that’s necessary to offer hospitality, but don’t make the preparations take away from the dinner party.
Those parties my parents hosted were fun, we loved them. But the days leading up to those parties? Those were brutal.
Sometimes what we’re being called to do is to sit still and listen. Sometimes what we’re called to do is to stand up, get out and do. Our job is to be attentive enough to do what it is God needs done, not what we think needs to be done. Amen.

PROPER 28C

 Imagine this…you’ve been driven out of your home, far away from everything familiar. You’ve been taken captive by negative, angry, vengeful people who want nothing more than to have you wait on them hand and foot. How would you react? Rebel? Seethe? Accept? Dream of a better day?
In this morning’s readings from Isaiah —both our first reading and the canticle are readings the Prophet Isaiah wrote to the people of Israel, imprisoned in Babylon. Isaiah heard God promise to return the Israelites to their homeland, to free them from their oppressors returning them to the the land of milk and honey. Isaiah writes: “The wolf and the lamb shall feed together,the lion shall eat straw like the ox;”  In other words, the lion need not be feared the lamb will frolick with the wolf—no more danger,hate or fear. This dream is given to the captives and they hold onto it…it helps, it gets them through.
    But, this dream’s not reserved for only the ancient Israelites, it’s the same dream that drove our forebears to leave their homelands and come to America, to——as my ancestors did—-escape persecution for being protestant Irish.
It’s what our Irish, Italian, Russian, Polish, Greek and other ancestors did. it’s what the Ukranian family we’ve been assisting is doing as they fled their war-torn home to find a safe place of opportunity for their children, here.
It’s what, in recent years, Afghani, Iraqi, Burmese, Bantu, Syrian and countless others have done. It’s what Mexican, Cuban, Central American and South American families do today. It’s what’s colored humanity forever: when it is no good here, we travel there, hoping for a fresh start, a safe place, new opportunites.
This dream should unify us—-for we’ve all come from away. Most of our ancestors were fueled by this universal dream of things getting better, of the bad times not having the last word, of the good and the hopeful and the light prevailing because what we know is this: God loves us too much to have us suffer endlessly.
    And so we have Isaiah, painting a picture of a world that, as I so often say, refelcts the dream of God rather than the nightmare we’ve created. We can hold onto Isaiah…and we need to as we enter this pre-Advent and Advent time.
[OK…sidebar: back in the 8th century or so Advent was 6 weeks long, not four. Because of this our readings the couple of weeks before the First Sunday of Advent are full of apocalyptic (end times) imagery. Advent is a season of anticipating the coming of God in the flesh, Jesus of Nazareth—as the baby away in a manger and as the Risen one, who will return. In Advent we look forward to the first coming as we await the second.]
 So here we are, two weeks before Advent, hearing the soothing dream language of Isaiah promising that the strife of the current day will end and we’ll be returned to the land of peace, love and light. A place where all matter of things shall be well.
    So what does that do for us today? Well hopefully it reminds us that no matter how dark the night, no matter how long the struggle, no matter how terrifying the nightmare, horror never ever has the last word. We may be suffering now and in some way I know many of you here today are —worried, frightened, lonely——but it will not win, it will not last, it will no prevail. For in God there is only one promise: that God loves us more than we can ever love ourselves so no matter how deep the despair, no matter how painful the memory… no matter how terrifying the prognosis, God is here.
It’s how the Israelites survived their captivity, it’s how the enslaved people of 19th century America survived, it’s how our forebears survived and it’s how the Ukranian people and all who suffer for the sake of conscience across the globe survive each day:
in sure and certain hope that Isaiah’s dream is God’s reality, all we have to do is make it so.
Amen




 

PROPER 12C 2022

 

I remember, soon after I was ordained, my mother asking me to offer grace before a family dinner. I was in town because a very close family friend was seriously ill and none of us thought he would live through the night. So I commenced to offer a standard food blessing, with a petition for Richard tacked onto the end. My mother, being a rigid person, said "Amen," as soon as I ended the familiar "grace" portion of the prayer... She was used to a specific formula for saying grace and darn it how dare I mess with it! My mom was astounded that I would " go off script" while praying.

The disciples ask Jesus: “teach us how to pray. John the Baptist did for his followers, do it for us, give us the formula, write us a script.”

Everyone wants the inside track on the right way, the fool proof correct way to pray.

As if there is a wrong way to pray.

This is Jesus' point at the end of today's Gospel--- knock---Whatever you do knock! That is, PRAY, people. Whatever, however, wherever, whenever....God wants to be engaged in conversation. With us!

And this is what personal prayer is: a conversation with God. Whenever we speak to God, God listens.

God may not respond as we expect ( or wish or sometimes demand ) but God does listen and God does communicate back to us through the work of the Holy Spirit.

But what the disciples were asking, and what many people ask me is, just what’s the magic formula...the exact right way to pray?

I understand the question. People assume that God’s like us. Like my mother--that God has a very distinct and proscribed way of doing things.

God doesn’t.

However, because the disciples are an earnest bunch, Jesus offers them a formula for prayer. An outline of what a prayer could --NOT SHOULD-- look and sound like. The Lord's Prayer. Now it's  important to realize that although the prayer is known the world over- it's one of  the first prayers children learn, it's one most all of us have memorized -- it is not the be all and end all of prayers. It's simply an example, a prototype for a general kind of all encompassing prayer. It isn't magic, it's just handy.

We needn't pray as the Lord's Prayer is structured, nor must we pray like others pray. We must pray as we feel compelled to pray.

The only absolute is that we do, indeed, pray!

However that looks and however that sounds.

         Have you ever been in a period of profound pain and loss and fear? Have you ever had people intentionally and consistently pray for you during that time? Have you felt their prayers? 

I have. Through my own journey with cancer, through my spouse’s cancer fight and death. 

And I’m here to tell you, it works. I’ve been sustained by and through the prayers of so many people… As a woman of faith I've certainly done my share of praying and intellectually I’ve known that research shows the effectiveness of prayer. But it wasn’t until I was the recipient of extensive, intensive, pointed prayer that I understood---deep in my bones, my heart and my soul---the power of prayer. Throughout the many losses I’ve experienced over the past five years I know that I’m still standing because of my prayer warriors.

The intercessory prayer of people, some I know, some I never will,  that’s what sustains me.

Prayer works. The prayer of others offers the recipient a spiritual undergirding that buoys them up enough to endure whatever it is they are enduring. Prayer brings peace to the hearts and souls of those who are prayed for. Our prayers are powerful. Our prayers have a clear and definite effect in this world. And it is our responsibility, our duty, but above all else [I hope] our honor to offer prayers for others. Always.  

So, my charge to you is to pray.

Sometimes that prayer may be HELP!!! Sometimes it might be, What the????? Sometimes it might be a deep and abiding thank you. Sometimes it might just be taking a couple of minutes—-or even a few seconds—- being quiet and acknowledging that God is with you. Whenever you do it, however you do it, pray each day—you will, I promise, notice a difference.

 

Amen.

 

LENT 2C

 

+  This morning I want to talk about fear and darkness. I mean it is Lent, right? In Genesis, after quite a long exchange with God, Abram falls asleep and enters a deep and terrifying darkness…but somehow this darkness transforms him, emboldens him. Changes him.

As a kid I was terrified of the dark. I thought I’d had it licked when, after I was widowed in 2017, I again found the darkness forbidding, so the phrase, a “deep and terrifying darkness” speaks to me. In those early days of widowhood, when I had to make a long and lonely walk out to the barn in the darkest days of the year, I was bound and determined to keep that darkness from overtaking me, to let the dark lead me to a new learning, because what I’ve found is that it always does. Darkness called me to courage—that is to feel the fear of it but to enter it and experience it anyway. Darkness, whether that of my own making, that of the world’s making (like what’s happening in Ukraine right now) or the darkness that is our faith, especially in Lent and Holy Week, is something to be entered rather than something to avoid.

         Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday—are very dark days. Holy Saturday in particular, fascinates me. I’m strangely drawn to the day when our faith is shrouded in total darkness. When we’re stuck in what can feel like an unbearable absence. Jesus’ body lies shrouded in the tomb…it’s a day of emptiness, a day of void.

I think this  important because by really feeling the absence the space needed   to fully embrace the new life of Easter morning is broken open. We must consider life without Jesus in order to embrace him every other day.

         My friends, our world is shrouded in darkness—we can refuse to watch the news because the images from Ukraine are so disturbing. I can refuse to ever mention world events in my sermons, afraid of offending someone. I can post something on social media about how awful things are in Ukraine and then go on with my day feeling that somehow I’ve done my part.

 We can avoid darkness, but we can’t deny it, for it is there, it is here. Darkness exists.

Trying to out-run darkness is why attendance is pretty low at things like Ash Wednesday and Holy Week liturgies.These services are uncomfortable and dark because they reveal to us the lesser part of our nature.

This is what Jesus is lamenting about in this morning’s gospel. He loves Jerusalem and yet he knows that Jerusalem will turn on him. That we will turn on him. And we do.

Because the truth is, I would have been in the crowd yelling crucify him. I wish that  wasn’t true, but I fear it is. And no doubt some of you would be with me.

Our fallen human nature is capable of great evil and deep hurt. But here’s the deal—if we admit this, enter the reality of our darkness, confronting what we are capable of, we can defeat it. The dark wins when we expend the energy to avoid it, the dark’s defeated when we confront it.  It’s what Jesus did in the garden, on the cross, and in his descent into death on Holy Saturday. He entered the darkness and came out the other side. The darkness did not overcome him.And it needn’t overcome us.

Just like Abram did in his dream and Jesus did on Holy Saturday only when we enter the darkness do we find it is beatable.

We can feel overwhelmed but the events in Ukraine, we can feel powerless, but as believers in the empty tomb, as followers of the light, we cannot avoid the horror of it, nor can deny that it is any of our business. When hate marches on, when darkness spreads like a cancer we, the people of God must not look away, instead we must look it dead in the eye and o whatever we can, however we can, for as long as we can to help.

 Be not afraid, dear people of God, the hold of darkness is not permanent. The lament of Jesus is not the last word.

Darkness will not win, if we, the people of light, refuse to give into it.

Let us pray for each of us, let us pray for the people of Ukraine, the people of Russia, all refugees and all who are enshrouded in darkness. May our prayers and our actions, reveal the light that darkness cannot and will not overcome.

May God bless us as we endeavor to change this world.

Amen.

MATTHEW TEMPLE HOMILY 2022

 When I get high, I get high on speed. This opening lyric of Motley Crue’s hit Kickstart My Heart says so much about Matt: he loved the speed of dirt bikes and Harleys, he shared his heart with so many of you that I believe when he saw you, bowled with you, coached with you, grew up with you, watched Joe Montana play football with you, his heart---that muscle which gave him so much trouble his whole life-- was kick-started. Because for a man with a so-called weak heart, his was stronger than most.
It's what makes this death—a death that, in truth, wasn’t as surprising as it felt—so hard to accept. How does a heart that loved so well, a hearth that held and endured so much, stop? Well I am not sure it has stopped…sure it stopped beating in Matt’s body, but it hasn’t stopped in Krissy’s, it hasn’t stopped in Aunt Kathy’s or cousin Danny’s or yours or yours or yours. Matt’s heart beats on. Hold onto that.

On the last page of the bulletin for this morning (page 12) is a statement about the theology of death held by the Episcopal Church. In part it says
The liturgy for the dead is an Easter liturgy. It finds all its meaning in the resurrection.  Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we, too, shall be raised.
We find all the meaning of life—even the end of our earthly life-- in the resurrection…that dwelling on the end is not our calling, but rather we dwell on the continuation of life. We live our lives fully. Knowing that when our earthly life has ended, our true life is simply changed. Somehow, as I was reflecting on this the other night while I wrote this homily, I thought it fit Matt. You see, I didn’t know Matt, bit in speaking with Kristen and Kathy they told me a lot about Matt and one story really stuck with me:
As Matt was weakening and the nurses were anxious to call Kristen, Matt kept telling them, “don’t worry, she will be here.” For Matt  wasn’t concerned about what might not be, he simply believed in what was going to be: he knew Kris would be there and so why worry? This, folks is faith. Faith that things will be ok, faith that trusting that what has been –Kris’s devotion to her brother (and his to her) was something that he could count on. Always.
In today’s Gospel reading the apostle Thomas doubts that he will be able to find the way to eternal life, he pleads with Jesus—How can we know the way? Jesus replies, you know the way, because you know me and I am the way, the truth and the life. Jesus wasn’t stressed, he wasn’t worried. Thomas on the other hand was kind of freaking out. So this is what I say to you who really don’t know how to get through this life without Matt— how will you keep bowling? How will you talk football (you know, like how Joe Montana was the best to ever play the game), hear a Harley coming, watch Godiva the chocolate lab mis her Matt—how will you ever do this all without Matt?
You will. And you won’t. You will because this earthly life continues for you and somehow you will endure this loss and even find joy again.
And you won’t because Matt’s influence on you and the world around him did not die when that wondrous heart of his ceased to beat because in death life is not ended, but simply changed. His light and his life will not be forgotten, his quiet courage, his speaking of the truth, his protection of his baby sister, his love for his precious aunt, cousins and friends has not and will not die. Why? Because we are people of the resurrection, people of the Way the Truth and the Life.
Matthew William Temple, rest well good and faithful servant, those who love you will carry on, knowing that when needed you will, somehow and someway, kickstart them back into this life he loved so much. Rest well, Matt. Amen.

LAST EPIPHANY C 2022

 

EASTER 7C

 
    Our opening collect this morning reads, in part, “Do not leave us comfortless.”
The collect’s author is referring to this liminal time between Jesus’s ascension and the arrival of the Holy Spirit but perhaps that sentence means more than just this odd time in the church year.
    When children in school, worshippers at a social hour after church and shoppers in a grocery store all get shot because of the color of their skin, their immigration status or just because of the deranged darkness within the shooter’s soul, I’ll admit to wondering if Jesus has, in fact, left us comfortless.
But, of course, Jesus hasn’t, we’ve left ourselves comfortless by somehow accepting this craziness in our country.
By offering thoughts and prayers and then going back to business as usual. That’s not how change happens.
Change happens when people take risks, try something new, stand up for what they feel is right.
All Easter season we’ve been reading from the Acts of the Apostles—-Acts is the travelogue of the early church—Peter and Paul venturing out into the Roman Empire preaching the good news of Jesus and converting people, enflaming their hearts with this Good News. Their work wasn’t easy, lots of people thought they were nuts, others were annoyed at their blathering on about this so-called Messiah and still others wanted them killed for even mentioning that there could be a new way of looking at things, a different way.
The early church grew because of the passion of those early converts, people whose hearts were on fire for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, a gospel where the outsiders are brought in, the dismissed are acknowledged, the lonely are embraced. Where the powerful who will do anything to hold onto that power are put in their place, where the status quo is turned over like the tables of the money changers, where the guilty are forgiven and the lost are found. These early followers literally changed the world because of what they beleived and because of how they acted. They didn’t just talk about this gospel of love, they lived it, they Acted on it.
 My friends, is this our Acts moment? I know there are some—maybe many—-of you who wish I would stop blatheirng on about the horror of gun violence, the intolerance of racial hate and the like. But I think that if I don’t keep saying these things we’ll miss our chance….our chance to defeat the darkness that currently enshrouds us. Our chance to act… to turn this country of darkness and hate into a country of light and love.
    A civilized country doesn’t stand by while gunmen kill school kids and teachers and yet we did just that 10 years ago at Sandy Hook and we’re doing it again in Uvale. A civilized country doesn’t stand by while people are murdered at the grocery store because of the color of their skin or in a church or synagogue or mosque because of how they worship God.
    On this Memorial Day weekend the flowers on the altar are given in memory of my Uncle Robert who was killed in the Battle of Anzio during WW2. He died protecting this country from hate and darkness.
Nearly 80 years later the hate and darkness isn’t something “over there,” it is something right here. What are we doing about it?
Jesus has not left us comfortless, he never will. It is time for us to pick up our faith and act on it outside of these doors, before it is too late.
We cannot let Uncle Robert’s death be in vain. Nor can we let Jesus’s death and  resurrection be in vain either.
This must be our Acts moment…because if not us, who? If not, when?
Alleluia, Christ is Risen, the Lord is Risen Indeed. Alleluia.   
Amen.

THE PRESENTATION 2022

 + Today we pause our observance of the adult Jesus’s burgeoning ministry and look back to 40 days after his birth—a commemoration called The Prsentation of the Infant Jesus at the Temple(which was this past Wednesday) also known as The Purification of the Virgin.Both things are true: 40 days after giving birth, a Jewish mother needed to bathe in the ritual waters of the temple to purify herself, allowing her to return to the daily life. And 40 days after the birth of a first son, he was to be presented to the Temple with a sacrifice of thanksgiving appropriate to one’s economic standing (in the case of the Holy family, two pigeons). On the occasion outlined by Luke in today’s gospel both things happen the purifying AND the presentation rituals. (This day is also referred to as Candlemas, but to get into that is far too much church trivia…)
    The scene is chaotic…at the Temple hundreds of people are making their offering. A poor family from Nazareth should have gone unnoticed, save for the demeaning stares that came from only being able to offer the smallest sacrifice allowed. Other than disdain, no one would pay the Holy Family any mind. And yet, in this story two faithful people do—they’re drawn to this baby.
    First on the scene is the old priest, Simeon. That day he was guided to the temple---it wasn’t his turn to serve at one of the altars and yet he was drawn, driven to be there by the Holy Spirit. The couple’s made their sacrifice, the purificating bath has been taken when this old priest comes toward them….why would a revered priest of the temple give two hoots about a poor family from the backwater town of Nazareth, offering their measly pigeons at the altar? They meant nothing to the economy of the temple and yet, here comes Simeon. Why? Because, as God often does, God uses the ordinary and the dismissed, the unremarkable and the outcast to shine God’s light in the world.
Simeon’s been waiting for messiah and, on this day, finds him in the arms of Mary. Filled with joy he sings his song of praise, known throughout Christendom as the Nunc Dimittis which, loosley translated means “Let me now depart.” This old priest has been waiting to see the salvation of the world arrive and now that he’s seen the Messiah, he’s at peace.
The song of Simeon is beautiful, the moment, poignant. We recite this song at our night-time services, Evening Prayer and Compline. Why? Because it’s in the peace of God’s love for us that we lay our heads down at night, knowing all things are well because God is among us.
    The second character that comes on the scene is the prophet Anna, daughter of Phanuel. Anna was married for seven years and then widowed. Clearly she didn’t have a son or a brother to care for her because she was living in the temple, alone, for YEARS (a woman without a man was literally nothing in Ancient Israel, relegated to a life of begging). Once Anna hears Simeon’s song she begins to proclaim the redemption of Jerusalem. No doubt dismissed by many, Anna realizes upon hearing Simeon’s words that all is not lost, for the Messiah is here and she announces this to all within earshot in the cacophanous Temple halls.
    The joy of knowing that all will indeed be well, buoyed Simeon and Anna as it should us, for wherever we find ourselves this morning—-in heartbreak, worry, fear, a deep ache for what was and is no longer—-whatever weighs on us today, there is Good News: fear not, for the Messiah is here, in our midst. Always. The healing of what lays heavy upon us is at hand—for our eyes have seen the Savior, here for all to see, freeing us to go on with life in peace as God has promised, through the coming teachings of that 40 day old baby held by Mary, worshipped by Simeon, praised by Anna, given to you and me. My eyes have seen the Savior, how about you?
Amen.

Proper 3c 2022

 Yes Lord, I believe    Proper 14C August 7, 2022

“Yes Lord, I believe.” A friend of mine always says this when he receives communion. It’s a compelling response to the sacrament.
“Yes Lord, I believe.”  A powerful statement that stays with me for days after I hear it.
In the letter to the Hebrews we’re reminded of the great belief Abraham and Sarah exhibited when first called by God:
You remember the story, Abram and Sarai (their original names)  were told to move from the home they knew to a new home, a place they did not know. And in that new place God promises them children. Even though they were far beyond child bearing years, God says, don’t worry, have faith, I will provide, giving you more descendants than stars in the sky. And God did.
The story of Abraham and Sarah offers a formula for our faith—- we believe, God provides.
When we are operating from a place of faith we believe even though everything we know tells us we shouldn’t. But God doesn’t operate according to our ways, God operates according to God’s way.
And God’s way? God’s way is the way of truth and light and love. It is the way of righteousness, it is the only way, it is The Way.
I think the example of Abraham and Sarah is one we all can benefit from. Abraham questioned, argued, debated, wondered, and Sarah? Well… Sarah laughed.
Questioning, arguing, wondering and laughing are all, I think, pleasing before the Lord, especially when such things lead us to believe.
Now belief isn’t some pie in the sky method of living, belief isn’t signing off on every single nuance of the Christian Faith, nor is it saying that you always accept every decision of the Episcopal Church, this diocesean partnership, the Genesee Deanery Project or even this congregation.
Belief is knowing, somewhere in your heart, in your soul, in your gut, that God is.
That Love exists, that peace is available and that through this God…One we can’t prove, we can’t describe and yet we can’t live without...all things are possible.
Belief takes what we profess in the creed and gives it skin and bones... it’s what we live everyday and it is (at least I hope it is) what we fall back on when things are rough, when we feel lost, lonely and afraid.
Belief is what we hold onto so that when we lose our way, our belief will hold onto us.
My friends, it is, as Jesus says in the gospel, “God’s good pleasure” to give us the kingdom. To give us everything, always and forever. Of course, God doesn’t always give us what we want, but God always gives us what we need.
 All we have to do is believe.
So don’t worry whether your prayers are eloquent enough, if your faith is strong enough, just look at the stars expanding across the night sky and remember what God can do when we simply say, “yes, Lord, I believe.”

Amen.

proper 19c 2022

 Yes Lord, I believe    Proper 14C August 7, 2022

“Yes Lord, I believe.” A friend of mine always says this when he receives communion. It’s a compelling response to the sacrament.
“Yes Lord, I believe.”  A powerful statement that stays with me for days after I hear it.
In the letter to the Hebrews we’re reminded of the great belief Abraham and Sarah exhibited when first called by God:
You remember the story, Abram and Sarai (their original names)  were told to move from the home they knew to a new home, a place they did not know. And in that new place God promises them children. Even though they were far beyond child bearing years, God says, don’t worry, have faith, I will provide, giving you more descendants than stars in the sky. And God did.
The story of Abraham and Sarah offers a formula for our faith—- we believe, God provides.
When we are operating from a place of faith we believe even though everything we know tells us we shouldn’t. But God doesn’t operate according to our ways, God operates according to God’s way.
And God’s way? God’s way is the way of truth and light and love. It is the way of righteousness, it is the only way, it is The Way.
I think the example of Abraham and Sarah is one we all can benefit from. Abraham questioned, argued, debated, wondered, and Sarah? Well… Sarah laughed.
Questioning, arguing, wondering and laughing are all, I think, pleasing before the Lord, especially when such things lead us to believe.
Now belief isn’t some pie in the sky method of living, belief isn’t signing off on every single nuance of the Christian Faith, nor is it saying that you always accept every decision of the Episcopal Church, this diocesean partnership, the Genesee Deanery Project or even this congregation.
Belief is knowing, somewhere in your heart, in your soul, in your gut, that God is.
That Love exists, that peace is available and that through this God…One we can’t prove, we can’t describe and yet we can’t live without...all things are possible.
Belief takes what we profess in the creed and gives it skin and bones... it’s what we live everyday and it is (at least I hope it is) what we fall back on when things are rough, when we feel lost, lonely and afraid.
Belief is what we hold onto so that when we lose our way, our belief will hold onto us.
My friends, it is, as Jesus says in the gospel, “God’s good pleasure” to give us the kingdom. To give us everything, always and forever. Of course, God doesn’t always give us what we want, but God always gives us what we need.
 All we have to do is believe.
So don’t worry whether your prayers are eloquent enough, if your faith is strong enough, just look at the stars expanding across the night sky and remember what God can do when we simply say, “yes, Lord, I believe.”

Amen.

proper 14c 2022

 Yes Lord, I believe    Proper 14C August 7, 2022

“Yes Lord, I believe.” A friend of mine always says this when he receives communion. It’s a compelling response to the sacrament.
“Yes Lord, I believe.”  A powerful statement that stays with me for days after I hear it.
In the letter to the Hebrews we’re reminded of the great belief Abraham and Sarah exhibited when first called by God:
You remember the story, Abram and Sarai (their original names)  were told to move from the home they knew to a new home, a place they did not know. And in that new place God promises them children. Even though they were far beyond child bearing years, God says, don’t worry, have faith, I will provide, giving you more descendants than stars in the sky. And God did.
The story of Abraham and Sarah offers a formula for our faith—- we believe, God provides.
When we are operating from a place of faith we believe even though everything we know tells us we shouldn’t. But God doesn’t operate according to our ways, God operates according to God’s way.
And God’s way? God’s way is the way of truth and light and love. It is the way of righteousness, it is the only way, it is The Way.
I think the example of Abraham and Sarah is one we all can benefit from. Abraham questioned, argued, debated, wondered, and Sarah? Well… Sarah laughed.
Questioning, arguing, wondering and laughing are all, I think, pleasing before the Lord, especially when such things lead us to believe.
Now belief isn’t some pie in the sky method of living, belief isn’t signing off on every single nuance of the Christian Faith, nor is it saying that you always accept every decision of the Episcopal Church, this diocesean partnership, the Genesee Deanery Project or even this congregation.
Belief is knowing, somewhere in your heart, in your soul, in your gut, that God is.
That Love exists, that peace is available and that through this God…One we can’t prove, we can’t describe and yet we can’t live without...all things are possible.
Belief takes what we profess in the creed and gives it skin and bones... it’s what we live everyday and it is (at least I hope it is) what we fall back on when things are rough, when we feel lost, lonely and afraid.
Belief is what we hold onto so that when we lose our way, our belief will hold onto us.
My friends, it is, as Jesus says in the gospel, “God’s good pleasure” to give us the kingdom. To give us everything, always and forever. Of course, God doesn’t always give us what we want, but God always gives us what we need.
 All we have to do is believe.
So don’t worry whether your prayers are eloquent enough, if your faith is strong enough, just look at the stars expanding across the night sky and remember what God can do when we simply say, “yes, Lord, I believe.”

Amen.

Proper 9 c What is expected is not the gift

Naaman is a big-wig in the Aramean (modern day Syria) King’s court. So when one of the Queen’s servants suggests he visit the prophet Elisha for healing, Naaman jumps at the chance, gathering as much silver, gold and beautiful fabrics his entourage could carry to the land of Israel. So it’s not surprising when Naaman is miffed that Elisha doesn’t invite him inside, nor comes out to greet Naaman in person. On top of that Elisha’s directive to wash in the muddy, unimpressive rivere that is really more like a creek, the Jordan adds more insult to the visit after all, as Naaman laments, there are much more impressive rivers back home around Damascus.

Elisha doesn’t behave as Naaman expected, he doesn’t behave as the prophets of old, he doesn’t give a rat’s patoot about Naaman’s riches, his stature, all Elisha cares about is offering the healing God instructs him to give, and that is washing 7 times in the muddy water of the Jordan. Elisha isn’t what Naaman expects so it takes him awhile to accept the grace and healing being offered.

I remember years ago seeing a greeting card that had a figure looking under a potted plant with the caption, “looking for love in all the wrong places.” I guess Namaan was looking for healing in all the wrong places and once he let go of how he thought healing should happen, healing happened.

I can relate. How often do I expect that a solution is to be found in one way, blinded by the actual solution “hiding in plain sight.”

Our expectations often blind us, don’t they?

This is what Paul’s dealing with in our reading from Galatians. Christianity had really taken hold in Galatia (in modern day Turkey), Paul and Barnabas had counted it as one of their successes when Paul gets word that the new Christains are being pressured to get circumcised—to follow the the law of Moses and the teachings of Jesus. Now Paul viewed Christinaity as a natural progression of Judaism, that all the laws and restrictions of Judaism were unnecessary because all those were designed to help humanity receive the messiah. But messiah had already arrived. Needless to say, Paul is ticked off and fires off this scathing letter, assuring the Galataians that the law of Moses was no lionger necessary, Jesus it—the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega. In him all things are reconciled, the old ways led humanity to Jesus and it is through Him that all things on heaven and earth will be reconciled.

But….it is tough to see the gift that is right here and right now if we are busy looking for the gift of yester-year, isn’t it?

On this 4^th of July weekend I for one can relate to expecting the gift of the past. I am not sure what is happening in our country, but I do know it isn’t the country my parents fought for---it isn’t the country my uncle died for in WW2 and it certainly isn’t the country my mother fought for in her decades long woprk in the League of Women voters. I am –personally—deeply grieved at what is happening for it isn’t what I thought would happen, it isn’t what my parents fought for and raised us to believe in. But…when the dreams of what we think will happen, when the expectations of what we think should happen aren’t fulfilled I think our readings today remind us to clear our eyes, look around and seek the gift that just may be sitting in plain sight.

Jesus sent the seventy out to spread his message of love, he warned them that they would be rejected in some places, that they would be reviled and even killed for their message of hope and love. And they went anyway. The world wasn’t necessarily ready for Jesus. But they went anyway.

I find myself lamenting that all my parents worked for seems to be getting dismantled at an alarming rate and that frightens me. But what these readings tell me to do and what I urge all of us to do is to wash our expectations away and look around us for the way forward is clear to God, God is just waiting for us to be clear-eyed enough to see.

Amen.

 

Hospitality isn’t the issue. Discipleship isn’t the issue. Attentiveness is. Proper 11c

 +My parents were great entertainers. Together they had terrific parties and elegant dinners, always opening our house to a variety of guests. But, there was a downside to all that entertaining. As the day of the party approached, Mom became increasingly stressed—the house had to be spotless, the food perfect, the table settings, exquisite. Mom became anxious, irritable, and distracted. A lot like Martha in today’s gospel.
    This is a familiar story and because of how it’s been interpreted over the years, many people struggle with it.
For some, their role behind the scenes at church: on Altar Guilds, property committees, kitchen crews, seems disregarded and belittled by Jesus. Others find the fact that these two women are pitted against each other, upsetting. Before we wipe our hands clean of this story---I mean perhaps preaching on God’s anger with the Israelites in Amos would have been a better choice---let’s consider what Luke’s trying to get across here. In these four verses, Luke shows us that there are a number of ways to serve God, and that how we serve God doesn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that we do serve God--- at all times and in all places.
Still, it does seem that Jesus is siding with Mary doesn’t it?
 That somehow Martha was insulting Jesus while Mary was honoring him.
    I don’t think Jesus meant to suggest that Mary’s way was the only way, nor was he suggesting that Martha’s way was the wrong way….I think he used that moment—when Martha’s anxiety had taken firm hold—as a teachable moment.
    This scene immediately follows what we heard last week—the parable of the Good Samaritan---a story in which Jesus implores his followers to be do-ers of the Word not just hear-ers. In that parable the inaction of the priest and the Levite—both bound by Jewish law to not go to the man’s aid— are criticized by Jesus, while the hospitality—the tangible action of the Samaritan— is honored. Last week, Jesus said, “Go and do like wise.” Be do-ers of the Word.
    But then this week Jesus appears to contradict himself, praising the seeming inaction of Mary who sits at his feet to receive his word, while condemning the action of Martha who’s offering the culturally expected  hospitality —Jesus praises the hearer of the word, while condemning the do-er. What’s up with that?
But neither Jesus nor Luke is being contradictory. Instead they’re using these two different stories to illuminate how a community of Christians need both do-ers and hear-ers. Both receivers and givers.
Mary and Martha are two halves of what is needed to make a household work: their household in Bethany and the household of God. They are two halves of what makes God’s Kingdom hum.
    There’s no problem with Mary hearing the Word and Martha doing the Word. BUT, there is a problem afflicting Martha, a problem familiar to my mom, a problem familiar to many of us as we navigate our lives:
 anxiety, worry and distraction. Through Martha’s effort to love her neighbor as herself, she’s become anxious and distracted.
While focusing on her tasks, she’s lost sight of the goal.
The tasks of hospitality have gotten in the way of being hospitable. When the details of hospitality, the serving of food, the setting of the table [the liturgies, music and preaching] become more important than the welcome and love of neighbor, then we’ve all missed the mark.
In today’s Gospel Jesus was saying to Martha,” what you’ve done is enough, thank you. Now stop and let us be in fellowship.”
    Martha and Mary isn’t an “either or” proposition,  it’s a “Yes and” proposition.
 To Love and Serve the Lord requires giving AND receiving. To love and serve the Lord requires both speaking and listening. Both busyness and stillness.
Hospitality isn’t the issue.
Discipleship isn’t the issue.
Attentiveness is.
Jesus is saying, do the work that’s necessary to offer hospitality, but don’t make the preparations take away from the dinner party.
Those parties my parents hosted were fun, we loved them. But the days leading up to those parties? Those were brutal.
Sometimes what we’re being called to do is to sit still and listen. Sometimes what we’re called to do is to stand up, get out and do. Our job is to be attentive enough to do what it is God needs done, not what we think needs to be done. Amen.