Supposing Him to be the Gardener

Sermons, from the Canon to the Ordinary in the Episcopal Diocese of Northwestern Pennsylvania and the Episcopal Diocese of Western New York. Why call it Supposing Him to be the Gardener? Because Mary Magdalene, on the first Easter, was so distracted by her pain that she failed to notice the Divine in her midst. So do I. All the time. This title helps me remember that the Divine is everywhere--in the midst of deep pain as well as in profound joy. And everywhere in between.

Monday, November 21, 2022

EASTER 7C

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

THE PRESENTATION 2022

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

Proper 3c 2022

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

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

Amen.

proper 19c 2022

proper 14c 2022

Sunday, July 17, 2022

Proper 9 c What is expected is not the gift

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

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

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

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

Our expectations often blind us, don’t they?

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

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

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

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

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

Amen.

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

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