All Saints' Day 2015 Preached by John Harris

One day a few months ago, Sam, Maddie, Hannah, and I were driving home down Kenmore Ave. We were chatting about families. Sam and Maddie, like lots of kids their age, tend to think that the way their family is is the way that all families should be. So we pushed them on that a little bit. We asked them, who do you know that lives just with their mother? What about kids that live just with their father? They thought about each question, and they came back with good examples. Their minds were expanding, we hoped. Then we tossed in another question, who is a woman you know that is married to another woman? Maddie was putting a lot of thought into this, and then she piped out at her customary full volume, “St. Cathy and Pete.”
Now that you know about the saint in your midst, let’s talk a bit about All Saints Day and about our gospel passage. I find these readings, and this holy day, particularly poignant in light of our parish’s current situation. As we all well know, Mother Cathy will be leaving for a role with the diocese in a bit less than two months. I’ve talked to people this week about our rector’s departure, and they are talking about how much they will miss her sermons, her writing, and especially her presence, the full force of her personality that was always so much a part of, and a guiding force in, our congregation. That departure puts us in a time of transition. At times of transition, we, individually and as a congregation, have choices to make about how to approach the future.
We can, if we choose, meet the future with fear and trepidation. That is always an option, and it is an easy, natural option to turn to. Notice the first part of our gospel passage today. Mary sees Jesus, and she is in tears. She rebukes Jesus, reminding him forcefully that if he had been there, Lazarus would not have died. Something has changed, something terrible, and Mary is scared and angry.  Look at Jesus’ response, too. He doesn’t lash out at her for her tears or her rebuke. Instead, he seems to accept the naturalness, the perfectly reasonable nature, of her response.
The readings from Isaiah and Revelation highlight what Mary is going through. To pick out the language of Isaiah, a shroud is cast over her, a sheet spread over her mind, because all she is seeing is death forever. She has waited for the Lord, and he didn’t come until it was too late.
I think we should also notice that the onlookers joined in as well. They also questioned Jesus, wondering why he didn’t show up in time. In a similar manner, as Good Shepherd moves into its time of transition, we can safely assume that many in the diocese foresee problem after problem besetting our parish, just as a number of other churches in this very diocese have gone through difficult transitions of their own.
But the gospel passage doesn’t stop there, much as our parish does not stop with the departure of a well-beloved rector. In the passage, Jesus goes to the tomb of Lazarus and asks them to roll away the stone. Lazarus’ sister Martha cautions against it, because she has no hope. She knows, she knows, that the stench of a man dead 4 days will be overpowering. Jesus tells her this, though: “Didn’t I tell you that if you believe, you will see God’s glory?”
If you believe, you will see God’s glory. Imagine that. When all quite reasonably seems to be lost, when Mary has rebuked him, and Martha has reminded him that bodies start stinking after they die, Jesus calls for faith. Jesus calls for hope. And Jesus promises the glory of God.
Because our gospel passage does not end with Mary’s rebuke. And it does not end with Martha’s practical concerns about the smell. In fact, it does not end with a dead man staying dead. Rather it ends in faith, hope, amazement, and life. And I cannot think of a better metaphor for a church in transition.
To be honest, my metaphor might be a bit shaky. I think at times, this church, and even me personally, are Mary, or Martha, or Lazarus. Mother Cathy seems to slot into the role of Jesus, which is probably none too comfortable for her either. She probably feels like she is on much safer ground just being her usual saintly self. It is a metaphor with a lot of options. It’s almost as if this gospel reading was still alive, as if Jesus truly was the word of God still finding different ways to speak to us today.
But how does All Saints’ Day fit into all of this? I mentioned way back at the beginning that I was going to talk about more than just the gospel passage; I was going to talk about All Saints’ Day too. Well, the time is now. Despite the fact that my daughter has only named one person here today a saint, let me throw the window open a bit wider. We are, all of us, saints. The New Testament has a striking tendency not to use the term Christians to refer to the church. The term that St. Paul, in particular, uses with regularity is saints. Saints are the people of God in heaven and on earth. So we have gathered here today a group of saints that has to decide what this church will be like after our rector moves on to the next position to which God has called her. But as a body of saints, I think we can all say in confidence that we can move forward in the hope that Christ outlined for us, the hope of God that has power over everything, including death itself, and who can make all things new, including this church.
In the end, I think Franklin Roosevelt, quoting Jesus, put it best. To paraphrase, to some generations, or parishes, much is given. From others, much is expected. This parish has a rendezvous with destiny.

We. Here. Now: Sow with Tears and Reap with Joy Proper 25 Yr B Oct 25 2015

+We have several references to tears in today’s readings. I suppose that’s fitting, since, by now I hope you’ve all received the letter announcing my intention to resign my position as rector, effective December 31, 2015. The discernment Pete and I entered in to reach this decision, and the discernment you now find yourselves in, can lead to the shedding of many a tear. I certainly didn’t plan it this way, but the readings for today--- readings about being lost and being found, being blind and then being able to see, readings about tears of sorrow being transformed into shouts of joy—all of these are helpful as we try to find our way in this new territory of transition and change.
When I was a seminary intern serving at St. Matthias in East Aurora their parish “slogan” was taken directly from Psalm 126:
“Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.”


I love that sentiment and have always tried to remember it as an absolute promise from God that the tears we shed today create the songs of joy we’ll sing tomorrow.
We have done some amazing things together. We’ve built new programs, we’ve filled old ones with more energy, we’ve welcomed new members and we’ve bid others farewell. As I said in my letter, the decision to leave wasn’t a decision to turn away from you it was a decision to embark on a journey toward something new and scary, something God seems to be pushing Pete and me to do. Our hearts are heavy and the tears we’ve shed have been frequent and plentiful. But those tears are tears that wouldn’t be shed if we hadn’t, over these past almost six years, [nearly 4 ½ years] shared so very much joy. Over the next 10 weeks we’ll have lots of time to celebrate what we’ve done together, to grieve our separation and to prepare ourselves for what comes next. But one thing never ever changes regardless of who is your priest: there’s work to do, a journey to continue, hope to hold onto, love to spread and God’s kingdom to live into. We are fed for this journey, strengthened for this task, encouraged for the road ahead by and through all those who have come before us…the great cloud of Good Shepherd and Ascension witnesses and those whose journeys are outlined in our sacred scripture.
Today’s readings have a lot to tell us about journeys--those into and out from exile, those that take us from blindness into sight, from who we are today to who we’ll be tomorrow.
In our reading from Jeremiah, God is offering a hymn of praise for what God is about to do---gather all the Israelites who had been dispersed north and south, east and west, all those who were cast out in the Exile--  back into the fold. We can look at this reading discretely, written to and for a specific people at a specific time, or we can read it more broadly as God singing to us, now, here:
God says, “with tears of joy they will come, while they pray, I will bring them back. I will lead them by quiet streams and on smooth paths so they don’t stumble.” God doesn’t ask us to find our own way, God doesn’t ask us to tackle the mountains of uncertainty or the shadows of doubt alone.
 God asks us to pray, for it is in prayer where we’ll find our solace, it is through prayer we find our way.
My friends, pray. Pray for this community, pray for [ascension] [gs], pray for me, pray for Pete. Pray for the drum beat of God’s love to lead us home.
In today’s Gospel reading from Mark, Jesus and his followers are on their way out of Jericho when they are way-laid by blind Bartimaeus who, upon realizing that Jesus was near called out—Jesus, Son of David, show me mercy! Jesus hears him, calls for him and suddenly old Bartimaeus can see. Seems really straight forward, right?
Well again, we can look at this reading as a basic, “man has a problem, man reaches out in faith and hope to Jesus, man is healed” story---that would be the discrete read--- or we can look at it more broadly and consider it to be a bit more than one person with one disability who has one encounter and is then healed.
You see, I don’t know if there was a person named Bartimeaus who was blind and then could see. I don’t know if there was this one person who heard that Jesus was near, identified him as the messiah and then asked him to show him mercy…there probably was…but this story isn’t just a report on an event 2K yrs ago in Jericho, this is a story for us, here, now. It’s a story for everyone, everywhere at anytime. For more than being a story of one healing, it is, instead, a story of what can happen when we are heard, really heard. When we, like Bartimaeus, speak up, reach out and go forward, we will be heard, we will be seen and we will be stronger for it. Bartimaeus called out, Jesus heard him and called him forward. Off Bartimeaus ran, tossing his coat aside, rushing through the crowd and presenting himself to Jesus, ready to receive whatever it is God, through Jesus Christ, could provide. And in that posture of receptivity, in that posture of tossing aside all that weighed him down, he was, at once, able to see.
My dear friends, do not let this change in our life together weigh you down with fear or doubt, cast off your worry, talk to me, talk to each other and most importantly talk to God. For when you speak, you will be heard, and when you look, you will most assuredly, see.
Because what I Iearned years ago and still hold onto today is this: those who sow with tears, always and forever, reap with songs of joy.
Amen.

Finding Strength in Weakness Courage in Fear Proper 24 Yr B October 18 2015

+I saw my primary care physician on Friday. We were chatting about her upcoming move to a new practice and somehow got on the subject of selfishness. She was asking me what I thought about people who are more concerned about taking care of themselves than their neighbor. “What happened to the Golden Rule?” she asked. And right there, in the exam room I realized what it was I wanted to say about today’s Gospel.
It’s easy to dismiss James and John’s demand to Jesus that they sit on his right and left side for all eternity as selfish, bodacious and arrogant. It’s easy to say, “Well, there those disciples go again…NOT GETTING IT AT ALL.”
But I don’t think that’s it-- as a matter of fact I think they acted like this because they did get it, in spades. The man they loved, the rabbi they respected, the teacher they adored had been pretty clear---he was gonna die and it was going to be up to them to “carry on.”
They had to have been freaked out, after all they had given up EVERYTHING—job, family, familiarity, safety-- to follow Jesus and yet over the course of the previous two chapters in Mark’s Gospel—chapters we have been reading since Labor Day---Jesus has predicted his death not once, not twice, but three times. “Look!” he said. “We’re going up to Jerusalem. The Human One will be handed over to the chief priests and the legal experts. They will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles. They will ridicule him, spit on him, torture him, and kill him. After three days, he will rise up.”
The first time he made this prediction, Peter told him he was nuts and Peter got put in his place with one exclamation of “Get Behind me Satan!” The second time he shares this prediction, several disciples get into the act and behind Jesus’ back they begin to argue about which of them will take the mantel when Jesus was gone, they wanted to know who was going to be the GREATIST.
So let’s review: first Peter hears Jesus’ prediction and tells him he’s out of his mind, making Jesus pretty mad.
Second, after hearing the next prediction, several disciples compete over who will be the greatest and Jesus responds by putting a child on his lap and reminding all within earshot that receiving the fullness of God’s grace and glory requires viewing the world through the unblemished eyes of a child.
And that brings me back to my doctor and her question about what in the world has happened to people and their selfishness.
I’ll tell you what I told her:
I think people are horribly frightened. It seems to me this has been most evident since 9/11, but I also know, from an historical perspective, that this has happened before in the world and will probably happen again: when we, as a people, become unsure, nervous, scared, we turn inward. It’s the manifestation of survival of the fittest---the world around us becomes unmoored and we dig in to protect ourselves. We look down and in instead of up and out. We become insular and focused on “me” instead of broad-minded and in tune with the world community around us.
For the last few weeks I’ve been preaching about the importance of community and what these actions of the disciples and the actions of our own fellow Americans since 9/11 suggests is that isolation isn’t about hubris, it’s about fear.  Nadia Bolz-Weber, in her most recent book, “Accidental Saints,” says this: “I’ve finally realized that trying not to need others isn’t about strength and independence, it’s about fear.”
James and John’s world is most definitely becoming unmoored. Here they are, following Jesus down to Jerusalem where he is meeting sure and certain death, things are falling apart and so, they begin to look out for themselves, to assure themselves of a place at Jesus’ side. They’re not arrogant, they’re scared.
Everything they’ve come to know is about to be destroyed. Think about, first, they are simple fishermen, working for their father Zebedee when this preacher guy comes by and offering a confusing, yet so very compelling, message, they, against any and all reason, dropped their nets and followed him. And now he’s leaving them.
Their world was inside out and upside down and they were freaked out. I so get this.
I remember the first trip to the airport after 9/11. There were armed military people everywhere. It took forever to make it through security. It felt surreal.
It was surreal.
Our world, our sense of security had been dismantled and we were, most assuredly, unmoored.
It was a very scary time.
And since then, with all the school shootings, the upsurge in racial tensions, the economy that tanked, recovered, and tanked again and now life hasn’t gotten any more steady. The world hasn’t become safer or more predictable. And so we turn inward. Just like the disciples did.
What Jesus was telling the disciples in today’s Gospel and what we really need to learn is how to find a power beyond all imagining through service, compassion and care for the other. In other words, what Jesus is telling us to do is to follow the Golden Rule—to do unto others as we wish done unto us. To look up and out from our fear and insecurity and into the eyes of the poor, hungry, oppressed, lonely,  scared, injured and the outcast.
Jesus tells us that by doing this, by being his hands and feet in the world we will, as he did with his death and resurrection, “liberate many people.”
[Tell stories:
GS Food Pantry--- liberate people with our love
School 54… liberate people with our love
Eaton Rdg Prog… liberate people with our love
ASC:
PFP….liberate people with our love
School 54….liberate people with our love
Give$$ to help a fellow parishioner…liberate people with our love]
Think about this folks:
When we really live into the last will be first and the first will be last. When we live into being a slave and servant to all we will find our true greatness. By finding Strength in Weakness and Courage in Fear we’ll find true security and endless peace. And that, my friends, is Jesus’ point.. Amen.

Two sermons on 1 day: at Good Shepherd, "Loosen Your Grip and Let God In" At Ascension: Be seen. Be Loved. And watch that camel squeeze! Proper 23 Yr B October 11, 2015

Sermon 1:

+ Have you ever tried to receive communion with clenched hands and a closed mouth? It can’t be done!

I think it’s easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for us to receive the gifts of God through clenched teeth, clenched hands and clenched hearts.

Because, to fully receive the Gifts of God, we must be open, receptive and willing to let go of everything: our fear, our worry, our doubt and, as Jesus told the man in today’s Gospel, our possessions.

Everything. Because without open-ness and willingness, we can't fully receive God; without open-ness and willingness the Gifts of God will fall to the floor, discarded, unused, and unappreciated.

“Jesus said, ‘You are lacking one thing. Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor.’”

When the man heard this, when Peter and the rest of the disciples heard this, when we hear this, we’re all very sad.

Sad because we think, like the man and the disciples thought, it means giving up the stuff we like—kind of like giving up chocolate for Lent—but I don’t think that’s it at all. I think we’re shocked, dismayed, and sad because of the realization that no matter how much we’ve said we love Jesus, how much we’ve insisted that we’ve turned our lives over to the care of God, we really haven’t. Because to completely turn our life over to God, to completely believe all that Jesus is saying, to be willing to live as God wants us to live, we must discard all that stands in our way. And frankly, a lot stands in our way…

But hear me clearly—Jesus isn’t telling us to become destitute, he’s not saying that having stuff---even being wealthy--- is BAD, it’s when we allow the stuff of life—our material possessions, our petty jealousies, our worries, our fears, to get in the way of God’s love for us, as given to us, through Jesus Christ we’re not living the life God intends for us.

 Jesus is saying, open those hands, unclench those teeth and let me in.

Jesus is telling us that what stands in the way of our spiritual health, are our attachments. To make his point Jesus references the material attachments the man had---his stuff--- But if you read more carefully, what Jesus is suggesting isn’t a pauper’s existence, or a life of scarcity but rather, a life of richness, abundance, and love. That is, a life that begins and ends and dwells in God. A life where we remember that all Love flows from God. That our love of spouse, parents, children, friends, fellow parishioners all comes from God. Jesus wants us to remember that to fully receive the love that surpasses all understanding is to be receptive. And to be receptive, we must be unencumbered, open and willing to receive all manifestations of God's love available to us. The only way to be in this receptive stance is to trust God to help us through the worry and the doubt and the clenched hands and teeth of life in this world.

Which is precisely Jesus’ point.

Those things that close us up and shut us down; those things that distract us, those things that color all that we do-- the worries of our lives---these are the things that keep us from entering into the fullness of God’s Love. When our fear takes center stage, we block out God. When our worry takes center stage, we block out God, when our fretting takes center stage we block out God.

God’s love is abundant, it's expansive, it's never ending and it is available to us, all of us, all the time, no matter what. As long as we’re open and attentive enough to let God in!

When we live in a constant state of fear, scarcity, and worry, we can’t receive the gifts, we block all the love that's constantly, abundantly flowing from God. And then? Then it's easier for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle then for us to take our rest in the Love that is God.

Jesus gave us this parable for the same reason he gives us all the parables: to turn our thinking inside out and upside down. To make us question everything, to make us confused, to make us dizzy to cause us to lose our way. And that’s good.

The way of THIS world, more often than not, leads us to a place of worry, scarcity, and loss, a place of closing and clenching.

While God’s way, the way that seems so illogical, the Way that at times seems so impossible, the Way that, frankly, at times seems down right irresponsible is the Only Way.

This week marks the beginning stewardship campaigns across the church. It's when rectors and stewardship committees try to come up with just the right catch phrase and theme to garner the greatest gain. GS' letters went out earlier in the week, Ascension's are available today. There's no catchy or idyllic theme. Nope, this year we’re simply focusing on how God's love is manifested to us through our communities of faith. We're asking folks to consider what it is they love about Good Shepherd and Ascension and then, out of that stance of Love and gratitude, to make their commitment to the church for the coming year.

This year is, simply, a love and gratitude drive. This year we trust that, as a community, we’ll act as Jesus has taught us: we’ll detach from worry, from doubt, from sadness. This year we’ll open our hands, unclench our teeth and welcome the crazy Love from which all other love emanates: God. I believe that if we do this---if we approach the future of our two faith communities—from a stance of openness and willingness, from a place of gratitude and love, miracles, like camels sneaking through the eye of a needle, will occur.

Amen.

Sermon 2:

OK, so this Gospel reading is one of those that creates groans across all of Christendom. It’s as if the designers of the lectionary thought, “well October is the month when most churches hold their stewardship drives, so let’s give ‘em a reading that talks about the evils of wealth.” And you know what, I’m sure it does sound like that, but that’s really not what Jesus was saying. As a matter of fact, Jesus just uses the man’s “stuff”—his possessions-- to make a point about how God’s unending gift of Love, given repeatedly, freely and abundantly by God will just lie on the ground, unused and rejected unless we ACCEPT it. Unless we receive it. This reading is about all of us accepting God’s Love, Receiving God’s grace, opening ourselves up to all that God offers.

The point Jesus makes is that it’s our stuff—both material and, more importantly, spiritual, emotional and mental stuff that BLOCKS us from receiving what God offers us. Jesus is imploring us: let go, release, open up and LET ME IN.

 Jesus knows, God knows that which we don’t---we are stuck…so very stuck. It’s why I love the line: Jesus looked at him carefully and Loved him.” It’s as if Jesus, by looking, really looking, at the man sees all the hurt, worry, fretting, fear, longing that is blocking him from seeing the love all around him, from receiving all the love available to him.

 Jesus is really onto something here. Pete and I have just begun a major purging of our belongings. Handling two households is very difficult and we spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with the “stuff” in both houses. So we’ve begun to clean out, throw out and lighten our load. And even though I wouldn’t consider us rich, I do consider the amount of stuff we have obscene. And so out a lot of it is going. And you know what, the more we do the purging of material possessions, the more open and free I feel spiritually.. We have a long way to go, and we have some decisions to make about how we can better simplify our life, but I al a true believer that giving ourselves elbow room to breathe both physically and spiritually, gives the Holy Spirit a whole lot more room in which to work in and through us all.

 Think about what you really love. I mean really love? IS it your car, your TV, your stove? Is it the perfect shirt, pants or suit jacket? I doubt it. I think what you really love isn’t any THING. I think love is all about people. We love people. We love one another. We love this parish, we love our spouses, our children, our parents, our friends, our pets. We love a gorgeous blue sky, we love a giggle of a baby, we love the glory of a wonderful piece of music, art or literature. We love people and what people create much more than anything we can buy. This is what Jesus is talking about, this is what Jesus is telling us to do…to let go of the stuff that surrounds us---the material, the spiritual and the emotional stuff that distracts us, that fills us, that overwhelms us----and let God in.

 So how do we do that? How do we, as they say in 12 step groups, Let Go and Let God? How do we give up our fears, our anger, our depression, our petty jealousies, our disappointment, our sense of loss? How do we let all that go?

 By letting ourselves to be really really seen by God.

By presenting ourselves to Jesus, just like the man in today’s Gospel so that Jesus can grasp us by the shoulders, gaze into our eyes, and LOVE us. This is what we need, each and everyone of us more than anything else: to accept, to receive to allow ourselves to be washed over in God’s gracious, abundant, never ending, no strings attached, Love.

 God is Love. All love—the love we have for our spouse, our children, our parents, our friends, our church---all love comes from and through God. There is no love without God there is no God without Love. So the message from Jesus is: let yourself be loved. Let that Love fill you to overflowing. Let that love, envelope you, let that Love overtake you, for it is n and through that Love that all things will be well.

 So, today, as you have been given the good the bad and the ugly of our financial situation at Ascension as we ask you to think long and hard about what it is you can give to this parish so we can continue our ministry, we ask that you consider one thing, above all else: Love. How love manifests itself in this place, how the love of this church has helped you through the good times and the bad, how the Love of God as shown by and through Ascension, gives you hope for the future.. We don’t ask you because we’re greedy, we ask you because Ascension as we know is not an address, a building or a concept. It is us. Here. Now

 Some people thought the surviaval of Ascension was as unlikely as a camel squeezing through the eye of a needle and yet, here we are.

Amen.

That which God has created we don’t get to destroy Proper 22 (mass shooting in Oregon) Oct 4, 2015

+I had an idea for a sermon this week. I was going to talk about marriage, about companionship, about how we, as human beings, are designed to live in community; that it’s, as God says in Genesis, not good for the human to be alone.
I had an idea that I would connect our need for being in community with another to St Francis Day and how our need for connection extends to other species, that our animal companions bring us such joy in their unconditional love of us that a day to celebrate them is a right and good thing to do.
I was going to preach on this truth: God’s creation was, at the outset, perfect and our job, as God’s foot soldiers in this world, is to do everything in our power to return this world to the perfection that was the Garden of Eden.
But then there was another mass shooting. There was another incident where innocent people, gathered in community—this time it was another school---were struck down by a maniac wielding, in this instance, six guns.
We received alerts on our phones, we heard special reports on TV and radio and once again our hearts were broken.
We saw our President reach the end of his rope.
We heard the gun lobby respond.
We heard other politicians say how saddened they were and how their prayers were with the victims and their families.
We prayed.
We cried.
And then we went on with our lives.
We went to work, to school, shopping, out to dinner, we did the laundry, cleaned the house, ran errands.
Our lives were briefly interrupted by the 24- hour news cycle trying to connect the dots of how this could happen again.

And then life went on.
For us.
For Roseburg, Oregon life is also going on, but it will never be the same.
And for the families of the 9 dead, for the families of the injured, for the family of the perpetrator, life is also going on, but will never be the same.
Neither should ours.
For the 40th time this year, and the 141st time since the Sandy Hook massacre, on December 14, 2012, a gunman has opened fire in a school….Heidi Stevens, in a column published in the Chicago Tribune describes how routine “active shooter drills” have become in the lives of her children:
At 6 and 9, my kids haven't known a school year without lockdowns, and they likely never will.
They know gunmen routinely open fire on classrooms, and they know students routinely die.
And they know all we're doing about it is teaching them where to hide.
That fills me with more shame and sorrow than I know what to do with.



The world has gone mad and yet,
Life Goes On
But today, I, like Heidi Stevens, like the President, like so many of you here today, cannot go on, life as usual.
I can’t preach the sermon I’d written. We’re killing each other. And we all have blood on our hands. It must stop.
Two of our readings today speak to this issue pretty clearly. In Genesis, God saw that God’s newly created human was lonely and that it was not right that the Human One should be alone. And so, God created a companion, a partner, a helper, a friend. God made a community for the Human One. And God saw the community God had created and God exclaimed that it was Very Good.
We were created to be in community. We are to love one another, cherish one another and protect one another. God made us to be together.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus proclaims that those whom God has put together? We—humans-- must not pull apart.
My friends, God has put us together-- to love, to learn, to worship, to work, to relax. God has not put us together for us to take apart.
The children at Sandy Hook elementary school were together to learn and to grow with their classmates, their teachers and the school staff.
Until someone decided to pull them apart.
The people going to the movies in Aurora Colorado were together to be entertained, to relax and to enjoy.
Until someone decided to pull them apart.
The members of Mother Emmanuel AME church were together to study and pray on God’s Word.
Until someone decided to pull them apart.
The students, the faculty and the staff of Umpqua Community College were together to learn and to teach and to be a community.
Until someone decided to pull them apart.
God wants us together.
This latest maniac who decided he would judge the worth of someone’s life based on the religion they professed, dared to pull us apart.
We are outraged.
We are heartbroken and we are fed up.
Where has the perfection of God’s creation gone?
 My friends, we can’t just learn where to hide, we must remember how to live—in love, in peace and in community.
The perfection of this world, as God created it, isn’t lost forever.
We can return to the perfection of this, God’s world, if we have the courage of Chris Mintz who ran toward this latest murderer, risking his own life, to save others.
We can return to the perfection of this, God’s world, if we have the faith of the Sandy Hook parents who won’t let the evil they endured as they tirelessly battle the gun lobby in this country.
We can return to the perfection of this, God’s world,if we have the forgiveness in our hearts that the families of the Mother Emmanuel AME church murder victims exhibited for all the world to see.
Do not rest. Do not waver. Do not forget: it is not good for the human ones to be alone. We need each other. When one decides to tear us apart, many will stand up and say NO.
For the perfection of God’s creation is not lost, it’s simply misplaced and it’s our job, our sacred duty, to not stop until the light, life and love of that perfection is, once again, found.
Let us pray:
Gracious God, pour out your blessing upon all people devastated by the shootings in Roseburg, Oregon. We commend to your loving care the souls of those who lost their lives, and those wounded and traumatized. We hold in our hearts the families and friends now forever changed by grief and loss: bring them, we pray, the strength, consolation, courage and comfort to face the days ahead.
Finally, O God, help us respond with generosity in prayer, assistance, and comfort for all who suffer. And may all people of good will strive to find wise and effective ways to grapple with the increasing number and frequency of mass shootings in our country. For this the world that you brought together, let no one break apart.
We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.
(Adapted from a prayer written by The Rev. Charlie Brumbaugh, Christ Church, Cincinnati)

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

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

God Loves Our Vulnerability Proper 20 Yr B Sept 20 2015

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

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


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