Jo, are you the same person you were 28 years ago? 14 years ago? 7 Years ago? How about you Char? Or you, Charlie?
No, you are not. None of us are. Researchers at Stanford tell us that “every one of us completely regenerates our own skin every 7 days. A cut heals itself and disappears in a week or two. Every single cell in our skeleton is replaced every 7 years.” And, that’s just the physical transformation that we all undergo. We also know that we change emotionally, we mature, we fall in love, we suffer great losses. We change spiritually, as time goes by we understand more clearly the need we have to walk through this life in the company of Jesus. So for us, transfiguration, transformation is a constant, sometimes un-noticed, sometimes fearful process. We are all about change, every day, every way, even though we are not always aware of it.
Today is Transfiguration Sunday. Jesus takes Peter, James and John up to the mountain top with him where they are joined by Moses and Elijah. When Jesus is transfigured, it is spectacular, sudden and dramatic; it is definitely not a 7 day or 7 year process. Poor Peter, he is, as he frequently is, unable to find the right words for the event. Just before today’s Gospel Jesus tries to tell his disciples that he must suffer many things, be rejected and then be killed. Peter begins to correct him and Jesus utters those famous words: Get behind me Satan. You are not thinking God’s thoughts but human thoughts. Here on the mountain Peter once again misses the point; he wants the moment to last, wants this special, mystical, supernatural event to be somehow contained and made familiar, so he offers to make three shrines for Moses, Elijah and Jesus. Peter is thinking human thoughts. This time Peter is not rebuked, he is ignored, no one responds to him. I don’t know about you, but I would much rather be rebuked than ignored. The message here is that Peter is so far from the mark that no response can be made. The point of the Transfiguration is that Jesus is human AND divine; Peter, James and John are being given a glimpse of Christ’s mystical body, a body that most certainly does not belong in a Shrine. They have been given a view of transcendence, and it cannot, will not be made ordinary.
Every year, on the last Sunday of the Epiphany we get the Transfiguration story. It is the hinge between the end of Epiphany and Lent. The first 8 chapters of Mark are chock full of events, everything in Mark moves at a rapid pace. It is one miracle, one healing, one exorcism, one exchange with temple leaders, one teaching moment after the next. The whole season of Epiphany, the season of ‘showing’, of ‘manifestation’ is meant to show us the light of God through the face and works of Jesus. It culminates today, as Jesus becomes transformed and dazzling. And, as spectacular as this is, we need to remember that on the mountain top Jesus did not become something new, something different, something he was not already. “Peter, James and John are given a chance to see Jesus as he already is, as he really is. They see the light of his divinity shining through his humanity, the same humanity he shares with all of us.”
The three disciples are rescued from all of the brightness when they are overshadowed by a cloud. But, don’t be fooled, the strangeness continues. They hear a voice from the cloud saying “this is my Son, whom I dearly love, listen to him. By now, Peter, James and John have seen and experienced enough of Jesus to believe that he is the Son of God. After all, who else could have done all of the things they have witnessed: calming the sea, walking on water, feeding thousands from a handful of fish and a few loaves, and even raising the dead. They have been privileged to hear Jesus speak to crowds and also to have been taught by Him in small groups. But….they are being told that now it is time to really listen.
God knows that when Jesus told the disciples in chapter 8 of Mark that in order to truly be his disciples they must pick up the cross and follow, they didn’t really listen. Really listening is not passive, really listening requires action. Listening to Jesus means that what Jesus said and did makes a difference in our lives and that we are making a difference in the lives of others. It means “hear, see and act”.
As we near Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent, let us reflect often on how we can listen, how we can hear, see and act so that others can come to know Jesus through us. Following Jesus is not about being stronger, wiser, better than, more powerful than; it is about service. We are not transformed physically, emotionally or spiritually so that we can be bright shiny beings high upon some mountain top. We are transformed by the love of God so that we can come down from the mountain and feed the hungry, visit the lonely, and clothe the poor. We have the food pantry, we have the pet food pantry, we are really good at collections and donations. How else can we transform the lives of others?
The season of Epiphany is over, we have been shown the light of Christ being made manifest in the world. The season of Lent is upon us, we will walk with Jesus the way of the cross. If we give them the chance, Epiphany and Lent will transform us and our transformation will make a difference in the world. AMEN.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Monday, February 9, 2015
Epiphany 5 Feb 8, 2015 yr B We Plan, God Laughs
We plan, God laughs.
Again. And Again. And Again.
My week has not gone according to plan. Now I think most of you know that I am VERY distractible, what some call being “stimulus bound,” so very often, even though I have my day carefully scheduled out, the schedule doesn’t get followed.
It’s completely foreign to me when someone tells me that they’ll be working on such and such a project from 4-6:30 pm next Tuesday…and then they actually do! So, while I may have a touch of the ol’ ADD… the reality is, “Life is what happens when we’re busy making plans.”
Life happens.
I have a to do list that I am working my way through when the phone rings and I drop everything because a parishioner is in need, or the phone rings and I am told that my mom is desperately ill so I drop everything and fly to Chicago for three weeks, or the power goes out, the fire alarms go off, the snow blower breaks, my office ceiling starts to collapse, the food pantry needs help or, or, or, or…..
Predictability isn’t a strong suit of these jobs I have.
yet what I know is that I am not in the least bit unique. This happens to many of us. A lot. We have good intentions, exquisite plans, a stunning to do list.
And then, life happens.
In today’s Gospel, “life happened” to Jesus. Capernaum, was a pretty busy place with a lot of people in a not very large area.
We could call it the Buffalo of first century Galilee—you could get just about everywhere in 20 minutes. For reference, consider where we sit right now the synagogue; the Sea of Galilee was about 2 blocks down the road and Peter and Andrew’s home was about as close as the Darwin Martin House is to us.
So, to set the scene, Jesus has just wrapped up worship in the synagogue where he’s healed a man from demonic possession, Jesus is taking the short walk across the street to Simon Peter’s house for dinner and, hopefully, some downtime.
He must need it right? Look at what’s happened so far in the first chapter of Mark---
Jesus has been baptized by John; thrust into the wilderness for forty days, thrust out of the wilderness and into his ministry due to John’s arrest and imprisonment; he’s called Andrew, Peter, John and James, and is establishing himself in his new “hometown,” Capernaum. All in 39 verses! Phew!
My guess is that as he strolled over to the house he was thinking---hoping, longing?---that this crowd of people at the synagogue would go home—to their home, and give him a chance to catch his breath….but….his plans, his hopes, his wishes, his desires, whatever it was he was planning on doing at Simon Peter’s house, doesn’t happen because, of course, Peter’s mother-in-law is sick---really sick.
So of course, Jesus heals her. He does what needs to be done, regardless of his best laid plans. And then, before he can say “hey, what’s for dinner,” half of Capernaum is lining up to get healed by this preacher man. And, of course, he goes ahead and heals them, accepting the change in plans and helping out. And then, the next day, after going to that deserted place to pray, Peter arrives, clearly annoyed that he had to waste all that time searching for Jesus, and pulls Jesus out of his planned and no doubt needed solitude to attend to the throngs of people seeking him.
Can’t the guy catch a break?
But, Jesus doesn’t snap, he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t complain. Jesus simply gets up and goes to where he perceives he’s being called to go.
This doesn’t mean that he wasn’t frustrated, or annoyed or mad, it means that he realized something we all can benefit from realizing:
While distractions may take us away from what we think we need to be doing, even what we want to be doing, they don’t take us away from God. As a matter of fact, God is there, smack dab in the middle of the distraction. God is in the distraction. That doesn’t mean God isn’t in our carefully laid out plans, what it does it mean is that God is also in the distractions, the change of plans, the interruptions.
I think for a lot of us, the distractions of life can feel like catastrophic derailments ….especially in our faith lives………”well I meant to pray every morning and every evening but this and that happened and I didn’t. I’m such a failure
Or
“I signed up for a committee, a job, a role at church and then I forgot about it, or I was late, or I made a mistake while I was doing it, so I can’t show my face there again. I messed up, there’s no going back.”
What the readings this week tell us is this---none of that is true. It may feel accurate, it may seem true, but it’s not.
God doesn’t have a scorecard about who stays on task and who doesn’t.
God, as Isaiah puts it in our first reading, God is in everything. God sees everything, God knows everything, God is truly in our going out and in our coming in. So God knows our intent, and God knows our desire.
And, as our psalmist phrases it, there is no limit to God’s wisdom….so trust that God knows we aren’t distracted because we reject God, we get distracted because. …well because life happens. The life God created, gave to us and lives with us.
And as Jesus so brilliantly exhibits in today’s Gospel….if you intended to pray, if you intended to volunteer to help out at church, if you intended to finish your to do list, but things—life---got in the way? Give yourself a break. Because God? God is right there with you, in the midst of all those distractions, detours and changes of plan.
Every single time.
We plan, God laughs. And on we go. Amen.
Again. And Again. And Again.
My week has not gone according to plan. Now I think most of you know that I am VERY distractible, what some call being “stimulus bound,” so very often, even though I have my day carefully scheduled out, the schedule doesn’t get followed.
It’s completely foreign to me when someone tells me that they’ll be working on such and such a project from 4-6:30 pm next Tuesday…and then they actually do! So, while I may have a touch of the ol’ ADD… the reality is, “Life is what happens when we’re busy making plans.”
Life happens.
I have a to do list that I am working my way through when the phone rings and I drop everything because a parishioner is in need, or the phone rings and I am told that my mom is desperately ill so I drop everything and fly to Chicago for three weeks, or the power goes out, the fire alarms go off, the snow blower breaks, my office ceiling starts to collapse, the food pantry needs help or, or, or, or…..
Predictability isn’t a strong suit of these jobs I have.
yet what I know is that I am not in the least bit unique. This happens to many of us. A lot. We have good intentions, exquisite plans, a stunning to do list.
And then, life happens.
In today’s Gospel, “life happened” to Jesus. Capernaum, was a pretty busy place with a lot of people in a not very large area.
We could call it the Buffalo of first century Galilee—you could get just about everywhere in 20 minutes. For reference, consider where we sit right now the synagogue; the Sea of Galilee was about 2 blocks down the road and Peter and Andrew’s home was about as close as the Darwin Martin House is to us.
So, to set the scene, Jesus has just wrapped up worship in the synagogue where he’s healed a man from demonic possession, Jesus is taking the short walk across the street to Simon Peter’s house for dinner and, hopefully, some downtime.
He must need it right? Look at what’s happened so far in the first chapter of Mark---
Jesus has been baptized by John; thrust into the wilderness for forty days, thrust out of the wilderness and into his ministry due to John’s arrest and imprisonment; he’s called Andrew, Peter, John and James, and is establishing himself in his new “hometown,” Capernaum. All in 39 verses! Phew!
My guess is that as he strolled over to the house he was thinking---hoping, longing?---that this crowd of people at the synagogue would go home—to their home, and give him a chance to catch his breath….but….his plans, his hopes, his wishes, his desires, whatever it was he was planning on doing at Simon Peter’s house, doesn’t happen because, of course, Peter’s mother-in-law is sick---really sick.
So of course, Jesus heals her. He does what needs to be done, regardless of his best laid plans. And then, before he can say “hey, what’s for dinner,” half of Capernaum is lining up to get healed by this preacher man. And, of course, he goes ahead and heals them, accepting the change in plans and helping out. And then, the next day, after going to that deserted place to pray, Peter arrives, clearly annoyed that he had to waste all that time searching for Jesus, and pulls Jesus out of his planned and no doubt needed solitude to attend to the throngs of people seeking him.
Can’t the guy catch a break?
But, Jesus doesn’t snap, he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t complain. Jesus simply gets up and goes to where he perceives he’s being called to go.
This doesn’t mean that he wasn’t frustrated, or annoyed or mad, it means that he realized something we all can benefit from realizing:
While distractions may take us away from what we think we need to be doing, even what we want to be doing, they don’t take us away from God. As a matter of fact, God is there, smack dab in the middle of the distraction. God is in the distraction. That doesn’t mean God isn’t in our carefully laid out plans, what it does it mean is that God is also in the distractions, the change of plans, the interruptions.
I think for a lot of us, the distractions of life can feel like catastrophic derailments ….especially in our faith lives………”well I meant to pray every morning and every evening but this and that happened and I didn’t. I’m such a failure
Or
“I signed up for a committee, a job, a role at church and then I forgot about it, or I was late, or I made a mistake while I was doing it, so I can’t show my face there again. I messed up, there’s no going back.”
What the readings this week tell us is this---none of that is true. It may feel accurate, it may seem true, but it’s not.
God doesn’t have a scorecard about who stays on task and who doesn’t.
God, as Isaiah puts it in our first reading, God is in everything. God sees everything, God knows everything, God is truly in our going out and in our coming in. So God knows our intent, and God knows our desire.
And, as our psalmist phrases it, there is no limit to God’s wisdom….so trust that God knows we aren’t distracted because we reject God, we get distracted because. …well because life happens. The life God created, gave to us and lives with us.
And as Jesus so brilliantly exhibits in today’s Gospel….if you intended to pray, if you intended to volunteer to help out at church, if you intended to finish your to do list, but things—life---got in the way? Give yourself a break. Because God? God is right there with you, in the midst of all those distractions, detours and changes of plan.
Every single time.
We plan, God laughs. And on we go. Amen.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
The Presentation (tr) 1 Feb 2015 Do You See what They See?
+It’s loud. It’s smelly. It’s crowded. There’s nothing about temple worship in the first century that would draw a small town family to undertake the two-day trip into the maze that is Jerusalem, other than duty. As an observant Jew in the first century it’s just what you did.
So, Joseph and Mary—on the 40th day after the birth of Jesus---travel to the temple so Mary can be “purified,” and Jesus, their first born son, can be presented to God.
They did what was expected, what was usual, what was normal.
But, once they got there, once they entered the temple, there was nothing expected, nothing usual, nothing normal, ever again.
Because, once they arrive at the temple, Jesus is recognized.
Not in the “ohmygoshMaryhelooksexactlylike your fatherdidasababy” kind of way…no Jesus is recognized for who he truly is:
A light to enlighten the nations, to bring glory back to the people of Israel. A savior. The Savior. The one Simeon had been waiting for. The one Anna had been waiting for. The one Isaiah longed for, the one Abraham was promised would come.
That one, the one was here!!
And good ol’ Simeon and nutty ol’ Anna saw him, recognized him and praised him.
Do we?
The Christmas story, in many ways, reaches it’s conclusion today.
Because today the story that began with Gabriel’s visit to Mary and then Joseph, the story of no room at the inn, the story of a choir of heavenly hosts shouting “Glory Hallelujah” to the shepherds tending their flocks in the fields at night, the story of that wild star guiding the magi from the far east to worship at the edge of the crib…that story, this story, our story reaches it’s conclusion….the birth narrative ends.
Christmas has left the building, one story ends and another begins.
Today, on this 40th day after Christmas, today, on this 17th day before the first day of Lent, today, just about two months before Easter we begin a new chapter in the story of who we are, of who we were born to be.
Today we take one more definitive step toward what Simeon was singing about in today’s Gospel: God’s love has come down to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Just as God had promised.
Today is all about recognizing the rest of the story.
Today is about recognizing that God came to live among us, as one of us, for us.
Today is about recognizing that choosing to follow this God in the flesh is not the easy choice.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ in all that we do, that seeking and serving Christ in all whom we encounter will, at times, pierce our heart.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ means we’ll be destined to do and say things that others will find disgusting, abhorrent and just plain wrong.
Today is about recognizing that loving God with all our heart, mind and soul is and will be messy, difficult and frightening.
Today is about committing ourselves to join Mary in walking out of this temple, noticing where Christ is at work in the world, and where Christ’s work is needed in the world.
Today is about noticing, recognizing, embracing and doing what needs to be done. Today it’s our turn.
The Christmas story is bookended by song. Mary’s Song and Simeon’s are similar in celebrating who Jesus is, what Jesus will become and how we are to follow Jesus into changing this world, one peaceful and loving encounter at a time into a place where the weak are strengthened, the lost are found, the lonely are embraced, the destitute are enriched and the hated are loved.
Today we are called to follow Mary and Joseph’s boy, to recognize Christ at work in the world, to be Christ at work in this world. Not just inside these familiar and comforting doors, but out there in the unpredictable and not always welcoming world.
You see, the world? The world doesn’t expect us to take the lessons we learn within these walls and carry them with us everywhere we go and in everything we do.
The world out there expects us to keep our faith, our worship, our Love of the Lord, encased.
In many ways, we aren’t that different from Mary and Joseph. There are things that we, as Christians, as people of faith, are just expected to do. We have our babies baptized, we have our loved ones buried, we donate our time our talent and our treasure to this place. We help out in the food pantries, we visit the sick, we pray for each other. And all of that, all of that is very good. And, frankly, it’s pretty safe. But today we are called to recognize that the work of Christ isn’t in here, it’s out there.
We’re at a turning point in our church life, in our diocesan life in our regional life. The Bishop preached about it on epiphany, he preached about it last week at the Cathedral, he wrote about it in his response to Ferguson, and in his joint pastoral letter with Bishop Malone. The message is clear: For the church to remain relevant in the 21st century, for the church to make a difference in the world today and tomorrow, for the church to fulfill the dream of God as given to us in the person of Jesus Christ, we, the church, must be willing to do something different. Something new. Something unfamiliar.
Today represents a turning point, not only in our church year, but in our church and faith life.
The trail, thus far has been sweet. We’ve had angels singing, sheep baaing and babies cooing. But today, if we choose to follow the trail of Mary and Joseph, of Anna and Simeon, of all the heroes of our faith, we’ll leave that all behind and set our eyes on all that we have left to do.
The journey we embark on today, the journey toward Calvary, the journey toward the cross, the journey into death and out again isn’t sweet and it isn’t easy…but, if we, like Simeon and Anna recognize Christ and if we, like the apostles, follow Christ then we, each and every one of us, will be set wonderfully and eternally free. Amen.
So, Joseph and Mary—on the 40th day after the birth of Jesus---travel to the temple so Mary can be “purified,” and Jesus, their first born son, can be presented to God.
They did what was expected, what was usual, what was normal.
But, once they got there, once they entered the temple, there was nothing expected, nothing usual, nothing normal, ever again.
Because, once they arrive at the temple, Jesus is recognized.
Not in the “ohmygoshMaryhelooksexactlylike your fatherdidasababy” kind of way…no Jesus is recognized for who he truly is:
A light to enlighten the nations, to bring glory back to the people of Israel. A savior. The Savior. The one Simeon had been waiting for. The one Anna had been waiting for. The one Isaiah longed for, the one Abraham was promised would come.
That one, the one was here!!
And good ol’ Simeon and nutty ol’ Anna saw him, recognized him and praised him.
Do we?
The Christmas story, in many ways, reaches it’s conclusion today.
Because today the story that began with Gabriel’s visit to Mary and then Joseph, the story of no room at the inn, the story of a choir of heavenly hosts shouting “Glory Hallelujah” to the shepherds tending their flocks in the fields at night, the story of that wild star guiding the magi from the far east to worship at the edge of the crib…that story, this story, our story reaches it’s conclusion….the birth narrative ends.
Christmas has left the building, one story ends and another begins.
Today, on this 40th day after Christmas, today, on this 17th day before the first day of Lent, today, just about two months before Easter we begin a new chapter in the story of who we are, of who we were born to be.
Today we take one more definitive step toward what Simeon was singing about in today’s Gospel: God’s love has come down to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Just as God had promised.
Today is all about recognizing the rest of the story.
Today is about recognizing that God came to live among us, as one of us, for us.
Today is about recognizing that choosing to follow this God in the flesh is not the easy choice.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ in all that we do, that seeking and serving Christ in all whom we encounter will, at times, pierce our heart.
Today is about recognizing that following Christ means we’ll be destined to do and say things that others will find disgusting, abhorrent and just plain wrong.
Today is about recognizing that loving God with all our heart, mind and soul is and will be messy, difficult and frightening.
Today is about committing ourselves to join Mary in walking out of this temple, noticing where Christ is at work in the world, and where Christ’s work is needed in the world.
Today is about noticing, recognizing, embracing and doing what needs to be done. Today it’s our turn.
The Christmas story is bookended by song. Mary’s Song and Simeon’s are similar in celebrating who Jesus is, what Jesus will become and how we are to follow Jesus into changing this world, one peaceful and loving encounter at a time into a place where the weak are strengthened, the lost are found, the lonely are embraced, the destitute are enriched and the hated are loved.
Today we are called to follow Mary and Joseph’s boy, to recognize Christ at work in the world, to be Christ at work in this world. Not just inside these familiar and comforting doors, but out there in the unpredictable and not always welcoming world.
You see, the world? The world doesn’t expect us to take the lessons we learn within these walls and carry them with us everywhere we go and in everything we do.
The world out there expects us to keep our faith, our worship, our Love of the Lord, encased.
In many ways, we aren’t that different from Mary and Joseph. There are things that we, as Christians, as people of faith, are just expected to do. We have our babies baptized, we have our loved ones buried, we donate our time our talent and our treasure to this place. We help out in the food pantries, we visit the sick, we pray for each other. And all of that, all of that is very good. And, frankly, it’s pretty safe. But today we are called to recognize that the work of Christ isn’t in here, it’s out there.
We’re at a turning point in our church life, in our diocesan life in our regional life. The Bishop preached about it on epiphany, he preached about it last week at the Cathedral, he wrote about it in his response to Ferguson, and in his joint pastoral letter with Bishop Malone. The message is clear: For the church to remain relevant in the 21st century, for the church to make a difference in the world today and tomorrow, for the church to fulfill the dream of God as given to us in the person of Jesus Christ, we, the church, must be willing to do something different. Something new. Something unfamiliar.
Today represents a turning point, not only in our church year, but in our church and faith life.
The trail, thus far has been sweet. We’ve had angels singing, sheep baaing and babies cooing. But today, if we choose to follow the trail of Mary and Joseph, of Anna and Simeon, of all the heroes of our faith, we’ll leave that all behind and set our eyes on all that we have left to do.
The journey we embark on today, the journey toward Calvary, the journey toward the cross, the journey into death and out again isn’t sweet and it isn’t easy…but, if we, like Simeon and Anna recognize Christ and if we, like the apostles, follow Christ then we, each and every one of us, will be set wonderfully and eternally free. Amen.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Epiphany 3 January 18, 2015 Deacon Pete's sermon
Wouldn’t the story of Jonah make a great Disney movie? After all, we frequently think of it as a children’s story, every Sunday school program always and forever includes it, it is a story that fascinates children. Imagine the graphics, a solitary and reluctant prophet lodged inside an ooey, gooey big fish. And, that’s the better translation; Jonah was inside a big fish, not a warm and more appealing mammal. He was stuck in a cold, dark, slimy and smelly creature. And, like a good Disney movie, it has layer after layer to also hold the interest of adults.
Jonah is a minor prophet, not one of the big names like Isaiah or Jeremiah. And, God gives him a relatively minor task; he is not charged with calling the whole Israelite nation to repentance, no, he is sent just to Nineveh, to warn only this one city to straighten up and fly right. And, he is resistant, reluctant and recalcitrant about his mission. Jonah does not want to be with the people of Nineveh and, as we find out later on, he certainly does not want them to be saved. He runs away from God, boards a ship and gets thrown overboard into the belly of the big fish. When Jonah comes to his senses and prays to God, he is vomited up onto dry land. God comes to Jonah a second time and orders him to Nineveh to deliver this short and powerful sermon - “Just forty days more and Nineveh will be overthrown”. A sermon of merely 8 words, but it caused the Ninevites to proclaim a fast, put on mourning clothes and stop their evil behavior and violence. Now that’s a sermon!
Jonah however, isn’t thrilled with this outcome. No, Jonah is angry with God, resentful of God’s mercy and compassion. He leaves the city in a snit and builds himself a hut to sit in. Jonah is angry with God for showing God’s grace to people he doesn’t approve of. Using a shrub and a worm God teaches Jonah that God will always be available, abundantly available, to those who work toward being in right relationship with their creator, regardless of whether or not we find them worthy of God’s grace.
Our readings today take us from the story of a big fish to the story of four fishermen. Like Jonah in Nineveh, Jesus is in Galilee is preaching repentance. Jesus witnesses Simon, better known to us as Peter, and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea. He invites them to follow him and they immediately drop their nets, leave their livelihood and their families to join up with Jesus. Likewise James and John stop mending their nets, the tools of their trade, leave their father with the hired hands and walk away from the sea into the company of Jesus. Like Jonah, Jesus uses few words, and the results are almost unimaginable. The fisherman get up and follow immediately, with no arguments or demands for details they leave everything and everyone behind. They show us the true meaning of repentance: to change one’s whole way of thinking and being in the world.
The words Jesus uses: “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” are so familiar to us that we almost ignore them, we gloss over them and don’t spend a lot of time discerning what they might mean for us, in our day and age, in our circumstances and situations.
Let’s think for a moment about the fishermen’s nets. Nets are of utmost importance to fishermen, they are the means by which great quantities of fish are caught, the tools used to provide the living that support their families, that sustain their way of life. Boats are important, strong and savvy sailors are important, knowledge of tides and winds are important, but no nets means no fish and therefore no income. It is impossible to conceive of fishermen, then and now, making a living without nets. Nets are familiar to them, nets are a source of safety, and nets are part of their identity. Nets are not merely important, they are iconic to fishermen. So, when Andrew, Peter, James, and John drop their nets, they are dropping everything that they previously thought, believed and treasured.
So, the first thing we need to know about fishing for people is that it will disrupt our usual patterns; this means it will force us to drop our beloved safety nets, it will challenge all of our assumptions about the worthiness of others, it will take us out of our comfort zones and completely turn us around.
The second thing we need to know about fishing for people is that it happens in relationship. And, as we will learn from Jesus throughout the Gospels, it happens in relationship with people that God places in our paths, not just the people we are used to being with, not just the people we are comfortable being with. Jesus takes these fisherman and exposes them to prostitutes, tax collectors, the poor, the hungry, the sick, the imprisoned, all of the outcasts they have been raised to avoid, all of the outcasts they have been taught are unclean, unsavory and unsafe. Just as God didn’t need or want Jonah’s approval before saving Nineveh, God is not likely to ask or want our approval before putting people in place for us to fish for. Nope, the good news of God’s kingdom come, here on earth, is for everyone- no strings attached, no exceptions.
The third thing we need to know about fishing for people is that it involves putting ourselves out there, out there in the often cold, cruel, messy world. Jonah had to go to Nineveh, our four fisherman had to leave the shores of Lake Galilee and we have to leave our pews and these four walls. God isn’t asking us to fish in an already stocked pond.
Jonah was called. Andrew, Peter, James and John were called. We are called. We are called to proclaim and demonstrate the good news, the good news that God is here, always and forever…the good news that we are all loved beyond measure by our creator, the good news that God in Jesus models for us, and we are to receive and share that love, not only with one another, but with the world. The church is here for our renewal and refreshment, it is up to us to offer that renewal and refreshment to everyone else. AMEN.
Jonah is a minor prophet, not one of the big names like Isaiah or Jeremiah. And, God gives him a relatively minor task; he is not charged with calling the whole Israelite nation to repentance, no, he is sent just to Nineveh, to warn only this one city to straighten up and fly right. And, he is resistant, reluctant and recalcitrant about his mission. Jonah does not want to be with the people of Nineveh and, as we find out later on, he certainly does not want them to be saved. He runs away from God, boards a ship and gets thrown overboard into the belly of the big fish. When Jonah comes to his senses and prays to God, he is vomited up onto dry land. God comes to Jonah a second time and orders him to Nineveh to deliver this short and powerful sermon - “Just forty days more and Nineveh will be overthrown”. A sermon of merely 8 words, but it caused the Ninevites to proclaim a fast, put on mourning clothes and stop their evil behavior and violence. Now that’s a sermon!
Jonah however, isn’t thrilled with this outcome. No, Jonah is angry with God, resentful of God’s mercy and compassion. He leaves the city in a snit and builds himself a hut to sit in. Jonah is angry with God for showing God’s grace to people he doesn’t approve of. Using a shrub and a worm God teaches Jonah that God will always be available, abundantly available, to those who work toward being in right relationship with their creator, regardless of whether or not we find them worthy of God’s grace.
Our readings today take us from the story of a big fish to the story of four fishermen. Like Jonah in Nineveh, Jesus is in Galilee is preaching repentance. Jesus witnesses Simon, better known to us as Peter, and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea. He invites them to follow him and they immediately drop their nets, leave their livelihood and their families to join up with Jesus. Likewise James and John stop mending their nets, the tools of their trade, leave their father with the hired hands and walk away from the sea into the company of Jesus. Like Jonah, Jesus uses few words, and the results are almost unimaginable. The fisherman get up and follow immediately, with no arguments or demands for details they leave everything and everyone behind. They show us the true meaning of repentance: to change one’s whole way of thinking and being in the world.
The words Jesus uses: “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” are so familiar to us that we almost ignore them, we gloss over them and don’t spend a lot of time discerning what they might mean for us, in our day and age, in our circumstances and situations.
Let’s think for a moment about the fishermen’s nets. Nets are of utmost importance to fishermen, they are the means by which great quantities of fish are caught, the tools used to provide the living that support their families, that sustain their way of life. Boats are important, strong and savvy sailors are important, knowledge of tides and winds are important, but no nets means no fish and therefore no income. It is impossible to conceive of fishermen, then and now, making a living without nets. Nets are familiar to them, nets are a source of safety, and nets are part of their identity. Nets are not merely important, they are iconic to fishermen. So, when Andrew, Peter, James, and John drop their nets, they are dropping everything that they previously thought, believed and treasured.
So, the first thing we need to know about fishing for people is that it will disrupt our usual patterns; this means it will force us to drop our beloved safety nets, it will challenge all of our assumptions about the worthiness of others, it will take us out of our comfort zones and completely turn us around.
The second thing we need to know about fishing for people is that it happens in relationship. And, as we will learn from Jesus throughout the Gospels, it happens in relationship with people that God places in our paths, not just the people we are used to being with, not just the people we are comfortable being with. Jesus takes these fisherman and exposes them to prostitutes, tax collectors, the poor, the hungry, the sick, the imprisoned, all of the outcasts they have been raised to avoid, all of the outcasts they have been taught are unclean, unsavory and unsafe. Just as God didn’t need or want Jonah’s approval before saving Nineveh, God is not likely to ask or want our approval before putting people in place for us to fish for. Nope, the good news of God’s kingdom come, here on earth, is for everyone- no strings attached, no exceptions.
The third thing we need to know about fishing for people is that it involves putting ourselves out there, out there in the often cold, cruel, messy world. Jonah had to go to Nineveh, our four fisherman had to leave the shores of Lake Galilee and we have to leave our pews and these four walls. God isn’t asking us to fish in an already stocked pond.
Jonah was called. Andrew, Peter, James and John were called. We are called. We are called to proclaim and demonstrate the good news, the good news that God is here, always and forever…the good news that we are all loved beyond measure by our creator, the good news that God in Jesus models for us, and we are to receive and share that love, not only with one another, but with the world. The church is here for our renewal and refreshment, it is up to us to offer that renewal and refreshment to everyone else. AMEN.
Monday, January 19, 2015
Quiet down, open up , get found and follow Me. Epiphany 2 January 18 2015
I’m here. Speak, your servant is listening
You have searched me out and known me (examined me. And know me)
Follow Me…Come and See
These are three of the most beautiful sentiments in scripture and we have heard all of them today!
The prophet Samuel’s birth was another one of those “miracle” births. Much like Sarah before her and Elizabeth after, Hannah, Samuel’s mother, could not conceive. A woman of great faith, Hannah promised God that if she conceived, she would dedicate the child to God. So, once she gives birth to Samuel, he’s presented to the old priest Eli. From that day forward, Samuel lived within the temple walls…as one commentator puts it…”as a permanent altar boy.” This background is important to understanding the the scene we read today because if anyone should recognize God’s voice, it’s Samuel; yet this 13 year old boy, who worshipped day and night at the side of Eli, didn’t recognize God’s voice when God spoke to him. Three times, Samuel assumes that the voice beckoning him is Eli’s. If Samuel, whose life’s been devoted to God’s worship and service couldn’t “hear” God how hard is it for us to hear, to listen, to receive God into our life?
Our world is full of noise and distraction—Smart phones, iPads, kindles, tweets, instagram, facebook…24/7 news, 24/7 entertainment, 24/7 comments on every aspect of life. All noise, all the time.
How in the world are we to ever hear, recognize, and receive God in all this noise?
By following the same advice Eli gave Samuel that night thousands of years ago. By getting quiet, by sitting still and by saying to God, “Here I am.” And then, by shutting everything else out and off and listening….listening to God, listening for God. “I’m here God, your servant. And I am listening.”
I’m committed to spending 2 or 3 minutes every morning and 2 or 3 minutes every night in what I call “silent receptivity.” Just sitting and presenting my silent self to God. To hear, to listen, to receive. Perhaps you’d like to join me in this experiment. 2 or 3 minutes every morning every night. Silently receptive.
Now be forewarned, there’s a danger in getting that quiet, becoming that open to receiving God..because if we “get found” by God, if we enter the fold of God’s loving embrace we just may get “known.”
The psalmist says it two different ways, depending on the translation used. In the more familiar Book of Common Prayer translation the first verse of today’s psalm reads:
“You have searched me out and known me”
In the Common English Bible it reads:
“Lord, you have examined me.
You know me.”
You have examined me and I am known.
Both versions allude to the same thing---when we get settled enough, quiet enough, still enough ---we’ll realize this fundamental fact: No one knows us as well as God. No one sees us as well as God. No one Loves us as well as God.
And while that fact should, in theory, be comforting it is, in reality, somewhat terrifying. God knows us. God examines us. God sees us….fully and completely…not the “Cathy” “Pete” “Debi” “Charlie”… we present to the world….not the one we present to ourselves…No, when we sit still and say, “Here I am God, I’m listening,” we’ll come face to face with the truth of who we are in God’s eyes. The real us. The person God created, the child God adores.
Now, remember this isn’t for the feint of heart--
When we’re truly known, when we accept God into our lives, 100%, our lives will never be the same. Do this and we…each and everyone one of us… will experience fundamental and profound change.
Just like the apostles.
Today and next week our Gospels are stories about Jesus calling the twelve. The come and follow me texts…this week we have John’s version, next week Mark’s. Today we join the story midway through…Jesus has just been baptized and is getting down to the business of calling his closest followers…he’s already called Andrew and Andrew has already gone out and recruited his brother Simon Peter when he turns his sights on Nathanael…
Yes THAT Nathanael the one who has the funniest line in the Bible…”can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael’s a tough nut to crack, he has skeptic written all over him and no amount of cajoling by Andrew will get him to believe in this Jesus fellow so instead of trying to “sell” him, he just says, Come. See. And so Nathanael goes to see what the big deal is about this crazy preacher man from Galilee. And when he gets there? He discovers that Jesus already knows him. He discovers that Jesus has already sought him out, found him, seen him, examined him and knows the real and true him. Not the sarcastic and skeptical Nathanael but the genuine Nathanael who tells it like it is, doesn’t suffer fools gladly but who will live and die for the faith. Jesus had seen Nathanael, Jesus knew Nathanael and Nathanael, from that moment on, was never ever the same. All because he went, he heard, he saw, he knew and he followed.
Today’s readings are chock full of wonderful sayings and beautiful prose, providing a guidebook to being a faithful servant of the Lord:
Quiet Down.
Open Up
And Get Found
For the God of Love knows us better than we know ourselves
And when we let God in, when we choose to follow Jesus Christ, when we get quiet, still and receptive, we will be found, we will be loved and we will never ever be the same.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
You have searched me out and known me (examined me. And know me)
Follow Me…Come and See
These are three of the most beautiful sentiments in scripture and we have heard all of them today!
The prophet Samuel’s birth was another one of those “miracle” births. Much like Sarah before her and Elizabeth after, Hannah, Samuel’s mother, could not conceive. A woman of great faith, Hannah promised God that if she conceived, she would dedicate the child to God. So, once she gives birth to Samuel, he’s presented to the old priest Eli. From that day forward, Samuel lived within the temple walls…as one commentator puts it…”as a permanent altar boy.” This background is important to understanding the the scene we read today because if anyone should recognize God’s voice, it’s Samuel; yet this 13 year old boy, who worshipped day and night at the side of Eli, didn’t recognize God’s voice when God spoke to him. Three times, Samuel assumes that the voice beckoning him is Eli’s. If Samuel, whose life’s been devoted to God’s worship and service couldn’t “hear” God how hard is it for us to hear, to listen, to receive God into our life?
Our world is full of noise and distraction—Smart phones, iPads, kindles, tweets, instagram, facebook…24/7 news, 24/7 entertainment, 24/7 comments on every aspect of life. All noise, all the time.
How in the world are we to ever hear, recognize, and receive God in all this noise?
By following the same advice Eli gave Samuel that night thousands of years ago. By getting quiet, by sitting still and by saying to God, “Here I am.” And then, by shutting everything else out and off and listening….listening to God, listening for God. “I’m here God, your servant. And I am listening.”
I’m committed to spending 2 or 3 minutes every morning and 2 or 3 minutes every night in what I call “silent receptivity.” Just sitting and presenting my silent self to God. To hear, to listen, to receive. Perhaps you’d like to join me in this experiment. 2 or 3 minutes every morning every night. Silently receptive.
Now be forewarned, there’s a danger in getting that quiet, becoming that open to receiving God..because if we “get found” by God, if we enter the fold of God’s loving embrace we just may get “known.”
The psalmist says it two different ways, depending on the translation used. In the more familiar Book of Common Prayer translation the first verse of today’s psalm reads:
“You have searched me out and known me”
In the Common English Bible it reads:
“Lord, you have examined me.
You know me.”
You have examined me and I am known.
Both versions allude to the same thing---when we get settled enough, quiet enough, still enough ---we’ll realize this fundamental fact: No one knows us as well as God. No one sees us as well as God. No one Loves us as well as God.
And while that fact should, in theory, be comforting it is, in reality, somewhat terrifying. God knows us. God examines us. God sees us….fully and completely…not the “Cathy” “Pete” “Debi” “Charlie”… we present to the world….not the one we present to ourselves…No, when we sit still and say, “Here I am God, I’m listening,” we’ll come face to face with the truth of who we are in God’s eyes. The real us. The person God created, the child God adores.
Now, remember this isn’t for the feint of heart--
When we’re truly known, when we accept God into our lives, 100%, our lives will never be the same. Do this and we…each and everyone one of us… will experience fundamental and profound change.
Just like the apostles.
Today and next week our Gospels are stories about Jesus calling the twelve. The come and follow me texts…this week we have John’s version, next week Mark’s. Today we join the story midway through…Jesus has just been baptized and is getting down to the business of calling his closest followers…he’s already called Andrew and Andrew has already gone out and recruited his brother Simon Peter when he turns his sights on Nathanael…
Yes THAT Nathanael the one who has the funniest line in the Bible…”can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael’s a tough nut to crack, he has skeptic written all over him and no amount of cajoling by Andrew will get him to believe in this Jesus fellow so instead of trying to “sell” him, he just says, Come. See. And so Nathanael goes to see what the big deal is about this crazy preacher man from Galilee. And when he gets there? He discovers that Jesus already knows him. He discovers that Jesus has already sought him out, found him, seen him, examined him and knows the real and true him. Not the sarcastic and skeptical Nathanael but the genuine Nathanael who tells it like it is, doesn’t suffer fools gladly but who will live and die for the faith. Jesus had seen Nathanael, Jesus knew Nathanael and Nathanael, from that moment on, was never ever the same. All because he went, he heard, he saw, he knew and he followed.
Today’s readings are chock full of wonderful sayings and beautiful prose, providing a guidebook to being a faithful servant of the Lord:
Quiet Down.
Open Up
And Get Found
For the God of Love knows us better than we know ourselves
And when we let God in, when we choose to follow Jesus Christ, when we get quiet, still and receptive, we will be found, we will be loved and we will never ever be the same.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Baptism of Christ: The sky rips open and the spirit changes everything. Jan 11, 2015
The sky tore open, God’s voice cried out and everything changed.
Happy baptism, Jesus! Don’t let that dove gliding down upon Jesus fool you, His baptism wasn’t a peaceful event. The sky tore open and the voice of God indeed cried out.
Ok, so maybe to those nearby it seemed run of the mill---just another of John’s baptisms….but for Jesus this was something all together different. It says it right there in the Gospel… While he was coming up out of the water, Jesus saw heaven splitting open and the Spirit, like a dove, coming down on him. Now I don’t know if John saw and heard what Jesus did, but he certainly knows that something is different with Jesus’ baptism. “I baptize you with water,” says John, “but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” Hmm. OK…what the heck does that mean?
Well, John’s baptism was an act that symbolized a change of intention. John’s baptism granted people forgiveness for all they had done up until then and then, as long as they continued to live a God-loving, God-following life they would be granted access to God’s Kingdom. Yes it was a bit of a barter system. You apologize and promise to do good from now on and you get a prize…eternal life.
The baptism of Jesus was something altogether different…
it was all about that sky tearing open and that voice booming from above. And once that happened, once the veil between heaven and earth was dropped and the voice of God spoke, Jesus was ready, anointed as God’s Son and he, who was born full of grace and truth was set to begin a ministry that would change the world forever. Once that sky tore open and once that voice spoke, Jesus was, in effect, unleashed.
No longer was the Kingdom of Heaven something accessible only to the chosen few, the Kingdom of Heaven, the joys of eternal life, the wonder of being part of the Body of Christ here on earth, the gift of the Spirit, grace upon grace, was available to everyone. Always and forever.
John was right, his baptism was a corrective measure, while Jesus’ baptism, the baptism of the Church, was and is a transforming and transfiguring action. Our baptisms serve as the outward and physical sign of our status as beloved children of God.
Now while Jesus was born with a bit of fanfare, and was raised with episodic moments of intrigue and glory…. once he emerged from the waters of the Jordan, there were no more hints, there were no more glimpses…Jesus was ready to accept the mantel the Angel Gabriel had predicted would be his---Jesus, as this day in our church year commemorates was ready to begin the work that he was given to do.
Just like every baptism.
You see when we were baptized we (or our parents and Godparents) committed us to live our lives as Jesus taught. Lives of service, lives of compassion, lives of justice, lives of love. At the moment of our baptism, we are publically committed to being what God created us to be---beloved children working tirelessly to bring the reign of Christ, the Kingdom of heaven to our world.
Our baptism, every baptism unleashes the Spirit in and between each and every one of us. And our job, from that point on forward, is to follow where the Spirit leads us…into the wilderness of the world. Every time we baptize a new member we have one more foot soldier in this effort to tame the darkness of this world with the light of Christ, a light that is ours for the claiming as children of God, children whom God loves dearly and who bring God great joy.
And we need all the companions we can get! Because the reality is, defeating the darkness of This World, the darkness of injustice, the darkness of prejudice, the darkness of hate, is tough work.
This past Tuesday night, when we said goodbye to the building at 16 Linwood, reminded me of the struggle between darkness and light. There were a number of people missing from that grand celebration of what was and what will be----people who, 3 ½ years ago, told us that what we were trying to do at Ascension; offer Eucharistic focused, Trinitarian based worship done in a radically inclusive way at an unusual time and focused more on spreading the light of Christ rather than sticking with the status quo, would never ever work. People called Pete, Mark and me heretics. People who persisted in bringing their darkness of doubt and hate and fear into our midst were, for the most part, missing on Tuesday. There was too much light, too much love and too much faith in that space for them. So they didn’t come. Did our plan for Ascension, and this covenant with Good Shepherd work out like we had anticipated? Nope….but what is happening with our covenant is the work of the Spirit. And the Spirit doesn’t always do what we expect,rather she does what we need. The spirit isn’t always easy to take. The spirit often….always?....takes us into uncomfortable territory. The spirit often….always….pushes us farther than we may think we can go. The spirit often…always….has plans for us that simply weren’t on our bucket list.
But, and this is the thing, the Spirit, the spirit that descended onto Jesus at his baptism, the spirit that infused each and everyone of us at our baptism is always and forever with us. We just need to have courage, to have enough faith to trust that the Spirit will never leave us and then we need to accept the presence, the leanings and the nudging of the Spirit to take us places we never imagined we could go. For when we follow her when we respond to her, the sky tears open and the joy of our Creator God brightens our path and leads us home.
So on this first Sunday in the season of light, Epiphany, on this first Sunday of a new address for Ascension and a new step in our journey as covenant partners, let’s all take a few moments to listen for the Spirit. It may come to us as quietly as a dove, or as raucously as a voice booming from the torn open heavens, but let us listen, let us ponder and then let us follow in faith with thanksgiving. Amen.+
Happy baptism, Jesus! Don’t let that dove gliding down upon Jesus fool you, His baptism wasn’t a peaceful event. The sky tore open and the voice of God indeed cried out.
Ok, so maybe to those nearby it seemed run of the mill---just another of John’s baptisms….but for Jesus this was something all together different. It says it right there in the Gospel… While he was coming up out of the water, Jesus saw heaven splitting open and the Spirit, like a dove, coming down on him. Now I don’t know if John saw and heard what Jesus did, but he certainly knows that something is different with Jesus’ baptism. “I baptize you with water,” says John, “but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” Hmm. OK…what the heck does that mean?
Well, John’s baptism was an act that symbolized a change of intention. John’s baptism granted people forgiveness for all they had done up until then and then, as long as they continued to live a God-loving, God-following life they would be granted access to God’s Kingdom. Yes it was a bit of a barter system. You apologize and promise to do good from now on and you get a prize…eternal life.
The baptism of Jesus was something altogether different…
it was all about that sky tearing open and that voice booming from above. And once that happened, once the veil between heaven and earth was dropped and the voice of God spoke, Jesus was ready, anointed as God’s Son and he, who was born full of grace and truth was set to begin a ministry that would change the world forever. Once that sky tore open and once that voice spoke, Jesus was, in effect, unleashed.
No longer was the Kingdom of Heaven something accessible only to the chosen few, the Kingdom of Heaven, the joys of eternal life, the wonder of being part of the Body of Christ here on earth, the gift of the Spirit, grace upon grace, was available to everyone. Always and forever.
John was right, his baptism was a corrective measure, while Jesus’ baptism, the baptism of the Church, was and is a transforming and transfiguring action. Our baptisms serve as the outward and physical sign of our status as beloved children of God.
Now while Jesus was born with a bit of fanfare, and was raised with episodic moments of intrigue and glory…. once he emerged from the waters of the Jordan, there were no more hints, there were no more glimpses…Jesus was ready to accept the mantel the Angel Gabriel had predicted would be his---Jesus, as this day in our church year commemorates was ready to begin the work that he was given to do.
Just like every baptism.
You see when we were baptized we (or our parents and Godparents) committed us to live our lives as Jesus taught. Lives of service, lives of compassion, lives of justice, lives of love. At the moment of our baptism, we are publically committed to being what God created us to be---beloved children working tirelessly to bring the reign of Christ, the Kingdom of heaven to our world.
Our baptism, every baptism unleashes the Spirit in and between each and every one of us. And our job, from that point on forward, is to follow where the Spirit leads us…into the wilderness of the world. Every time we baptize a new member we have one more foot soldier in this effort to tame the darkness of this world with the light of Christ, a light that is ours for the claiming as children of God, children whom God loves dearly and who bring God great joy.
And we need all the companions we can get! Because the reality is, defeating the darkness of This World, the darkness of injustice, the darkness of prejudice, the darkness of hate, is tough work.
This past Tuesday night, when we said goodbye to the building at 16 Linwood, reminded me of the struggle between darkness and light. There were a number of people missing from that grand celebration of what was and what will be----people who, 3 ½ years ago, told us that what we were trying to do at Ascension; offer Eucharistic focused, Trinitarian based worship done in a radically inclusive way at an unusual time and focused more on spreading the light of Christ rather than sticking with the status quo, would never ever work. People called Pete, Mark and me heretics. People who persisted in bringing their darkness of doubt and hate and fear into our midst were, for the most part, missing on Tuesday. There was too much light, too much love and too much faith in that space for them. So they didn’t come. Did our plan for Ascension, and this covenant with Good Shepherd work out like we had anticipated? Nope….but what is happening with our covenant is the work of the Spirit. And the Spirit doesn’t always do what we expect,rather she does what we need. The spirit isn’t always easy to take. The spirit often….always?....takes us into uncomfortable territory. The spirit often….always….pushes us farther than we may think we can go. The spirit often…always….has plans for us that simply weren’t on our bucket list.
But, and this is the thing, the Spirit, the spirit that descended onto Jesus at his baptism, the spirit that infused each and everyone of us at our baptism is always and forever with us. We just need to have courage, to have enough faith to trust that the Spirit will never leave us and then we need to accept the presence, the leanings and the nudging of the Spirit to take us places we never imagined we could go. For when we follow her when we respond to her, the sky tears open and the joy of our Creator God brightens our path and leads us home.
So on this first Sunday in the season of light, Epiphany, on this first Sunday of a new address for Ascension and a new step in our journey as covenant partners, let’s all take a few moments to listen for the Spirit. It may come to us as quietly as a dove, or as raucously as a voice booming from the torn open heavens, but let us listen, let us ponder and then let us follow in faith with thanksgiving. Amen.+
Christmas 2 January 4, 2015 Deacon Pete
We revere Mary for many things. For her purity, her faith, and her willingness to say yes. Today I am thinking about how much time she spends on donkeys during our Christmas readings. Now, donkeys are built differently than horses, their legs have no shock absorbers, there is no such thing as a smooth ride on a donkey. And, here she goes again. She has just given birth to our Lord, without modern anesthesia or even aspirin to dull the pain. Nevertheless, when Joseph says it is too dangerous for them to remain in Bethlehem, we don’t hear about her objecting or refusing; no, she saddles up her weakened, fragile body, clasps her infant son to her breast, and rides off to Egypt.
As hard as it is to imagine being Mary, it is just as hard to put ourselves in Joseph’s sandals. Here he is, an older, wiser, established Jewish man; a carpenter, not a rabbi or a temple leader whose specialty is study of the prophecies or experience with angels and visions. And yet, three times now Joseph has been visited by an angel. And more incredulously, three times now Joseph listens and obeys angelic direction. He did not put Mary away and quietly dismiss her, instead he did as the angel said and took her for his wife. Today he moves his wife and newborn son off to Egypt for safe keeping after hearing a warning from an angel in a dream. Then some time later, after yet another dream, Joseph moves his family out of Egypt back to Nazareth. Joseph, a regular guy, not a mystic, not a visionary, not a prophet, not anyone especially religious, allows the Holy Spirit to direct his life and the lives of his family.
Today’s gospel reminds us that life is not always perfect and pretty. In fact life can be ridiculously imperfect, life can be scary and unpredictable. Herod is so frightened by the birth of Jesus that, in verses we don’t read today, he orders the massacre of all male children under the age of two, so he can be sure that this threat to his throne is exterminated. Herod lives in fear, responds out of fear, and eventually dies a fearful death. Herod stands in great contrast to Mary and Joseph who regardless of what is going on in their lives, listen and obey the promptings of their God.
We are at the beginning of a new year. For some of us that is a welcome thought. We are finished with the trials and tribulations of 2014 and eager to wipe the slate clean and to get on with living into whatever 2015 has in store for us. For others of us, the New Year holds anticipation of hard work, loss, fearful new beginnings and perhaps more changes than we are comfortable with.
Good Shepherd begins this year without Marie Hubbard. For the first time since 1919 Marie is not physically a member of this congregation. Her decades of hard work, faithful attendance, financial support, ultimate loyalty and commitment to Good Shepherd have reached an end. We will not see the likes of Marie again, a woman who until recently was never seen out of a skirt and stockings. Our world has changed, family life is different, the demands on womens’ time is such that things like St. Monica’s Guild, fashion shows, and diocesan altar guilds can no longer anchor their lives.
Good Shepherd begins this year as a congregation with an opportunity to model for our diocese, our city and our region what genuine hospitality looks like. Together with the Church of the Ascension we will strive to live in harmony, to display radical welcome to each other and to all those who enter our doors.
Good Shepherd begins this year in a place that is only a few short blocks away from much of the city’s recent gun violence. What does that mean for us? Are there conversations we should be having about what it means to be a faith community living almost blissfully unaware of what our neighbors across Main Street deal with on a daily basis?
Ascension begins this year by celebrating more than165 years of faithful presence on the corner of Linwood and North and saying good-bye to a building that no longer meets our needs and no longer serves our mission. We will sort out our history and our ‘belongings’ over the next few months as we move forward into a “new for us” worship space at 96 Jewett Parkway. Our gratitude toward our covenant partners, the Church of the Good Shepherd, is mixed with sadness and fear, as well as some regret and apprehension.
Ascension begins this year as a congregation with an opportunity to model for our diocese, our city and our region what stepping forward in faith looks like. There are no guarantees that our move to 96 Jewett Parkway is sustainable, and no guarantees that blending two congregations into one physical plant is really possible.
Ascension begins this year with hope that God’s grace will carry us through. It is clear from today’s Gospel that safety and well being are not always found in comfortable, familiar surroundings. It is clear that sometimes, in order to survive, we must move outside conventional boundaries, think unconventional thoughts and pray unconventional prayers. (Shelly Matthews, www.workingpreacher.org)
Like Mary and Joseph, Ascension and Good Shepherd are beginning a journey with no promise that the outcome will be anything we can predict or control. For each other, for our diocese and for our region we can become a place of unexpected welcome. We just might discover that the stranger can be a source of hospitality, we just might experience God working outside well worn paths and far beyond any road we might assume to be safe for traveling. (ibid.)
After all, the birth of Jesus didn’t immediately make the world better. (ibid.) The promise of the incarnation is not that we will have only fair weather, plenty of food for the journey and unbumpy roads; the promise of the incarnation is that right here, right now, always and forever, God is doing something different. (ibid.) Let us pray as Paul did that the eyes of our hearts will have enough light to see God’s call to us and to see the greatness of God’s power working among us. AMEN.
As hard as it is to imagine being Mary, it is just as hard to put ourselves in Joseph’s sandals. Here he is, an older, wiser, established Jewish man; a carpenter, not a rabbi or a temple leader whose specialty is study of the prophecies or experience with angels and visions. And yet, three times now Joseph has been visited by an angel. And more incredulously, three times now Joseph listens and obeys angelic direction. He did not put Mary away and quietly dismiss her, instead he did as the angel said and took her for his wife. Today he moves his wife and newborn son off to Egypt for safe keeping after hearing a warning from an angel in a dream. Then some time later, after yet another dream, Joseph moves his family out of Egypt back to Nazareth. Joseph, a regular guy, not a mystic, not a visionary, not a prophet, not anyone especially religious, allows the Holy Spirit to direct his life and the lives of his family.
Today’s gospel reminds us that life is not always perfect and pretty. In fact life can be ridiculously imperfect, life can be scary and unpredictable. Herod is so frightened by the birth of Jesus that, in verses we don’t read today, he orders the massacre of all male children under the age of two, so he can be sure that this threat to his throne is exterminated. Herod lives in fear, responds out of fear, and eventually dies a fearful death. Herod stands in great contrast to Mary and Joseph who regardless of what is going on in their lives, listen and obey the promptings of their God.
We are at the beginning of a new year. For some of us that is a welcome thought. We are finished with the trials and tribulations of 2014 and eager to wipe the slate clean and to get on with living into whatever 2015 has in store for us. For others of us, the New Year holds anticipation of hard work, loss, fearful new beginnings and perhaps more changes than we are comfortable with.
Good Shepherd begins this year without Marie Hubbard. For the first time since 1919 Marie is not physically a member of this congregation. Her decades of hard work, faithful attendance, financial support, ultimate loyalty and commitment to Good Shepherd have reached an end. We will not see the likes of Marie again, a woman who until recently was never seen out of a skirt and stockings. Our world has changed, family life is different, the demands on womens’ time is such that things like St. Monica’s Guild, fashion shows, and diocesan altar guilds can no longer anchor their lives.
Good Shepherd begins this year as a congregation with an opportunity to model for our diocese, our city and our region what genuine hospitality looks like. Together with the Church of the Ascension we will strive to live in harmony, to display radical welcome to each other and to all those who enter our doors.
Good Shepherd begins this year in a place that is only a few short blocks away from much of the city’s recent gun violence. What does that mean for us? Are there conversations we should be having about what it means to be a faith community living almost blissfully unaware of what our neighbors across Main Street deal with on a daily basis?
Ascension begins this year by celebrating more than165 years of faithful presence on the corner of Linwood and North and saying good-bye to a building that no longer meets our needs and no longer serves our mission. We will sort out our history and our ‘belongings’ over the next few months as we move forward into a “new for us” worship space at 96 Jewett Parkway. Our gratitude toward our covenant partners, the Church of the Good Shepherd, is mixed with sadness and fear, as well as some regret and apprehension.
Ascension begins this year as a congregation with an opportunity to model for our diocese, our city and our region what stepping forward in faith looks like. There are no guarantees that our move to 96 Jewett Parkway is sustainable, and no guarantees that blending two congregations into one physical plant is really possible.
Ascension begins this year with hope that God’s grace will carry us through. It is clear from today’s Gospel that safety and well being are not always found in comfortable, familiar surroundings. It is clear that sometimes, in order to survive, we must move outside conventional boundaries, think unconventional thoughts and pray unconventional prayers. (Shelly Matthews, www.workingpreacher.org)
Like Mary and Joseph, Ascension and Good Shepherd are beginning a journey with no promise that the outcome will be anything we can predict or control. For each other, for our diocese and for our region we can become a place of unexpected welcome. We just might discover that the stranger can be a source of hospitality, we just might experience God working outside well worn paths and far beyond any road we might assume to be safe for traveling. (ibid.)
After all, the birth of Jesus didn’t immediately make the world better. (ibid.) The promise of the incarnation is not that we will have only fair weather, plenty of food for the journey and unbumpy roads; the promise of the incarnation is that right here, right now, always and forever, God is doing something different. (ibid.) Let us pray as Paul did that the eyes of our hearts will have enough light to see God’s call to us and to see the greatness of God’s power working among us. AMEN.
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