Sermon Preached by John Harris Proper 15B August 16, 2015

I’d like to start today with a bit of story. It may seem off base, but bear with me a minute.

When I was 21, I was hit by a car. It wasn’t just a little tap; I was pretty severely injured. The ambulance came and rushed me to a hospital. At some point in this process, someone contacted my parents. They lived about 60 miles away at the time. My father, a slow driver at the best of times, covered the distance in 30 minutes flat. While was my mother was in the waiting room going through the admissions paperwork, my father went looking for me. In talking to people afterward, I found out he pushed his way through multiple sets of closed doors, wedged past a series of doctors and nurses, then burst into my part of the emergency room. When he got there, he said quickly, before the staff dragged him back to the waiting room, “John, it’s going to be ok. Your mama and I are here.”

I think that our gospel passage, and actually the whole of the Eucharist, have some similarities to this story. Listen to this verse: “Unless you eat of the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” On my initial read, that verse felt very accusatory. When I first looked at it, my mental picture had Jesus calling out people for their lack of life. You could reword the verse, under this initial view, and Jesus might as well have said, how dare you be so lifeless. But something about that reading felt off.

I think a better reading goes something like this. Jesus is looking at a group of people, soon after he has miraculously fed them. And these people he was talking to remained full of confusion. The feeding took care of a single, short-term issue, an important issue of course, but not a lasting one. After fixing this for them, Jesus saw that they remained confused and lost. What Jesus wanted to do above all, was to give these people a source of hope and comfort going forward, hope and comfort for when their bellies were no longer full of miracle food. He wanted to give them lasting food to fuel them for the rest of their lives. And so, to bring back in the first part of the verse I quoted before, He offered his very self to fill them. Eat my flesh. Drink my blood. Then you will be full of life.

That desire of Jesus to be with his people at all times and for all time feels a little like my dad in the story I told at the beginning. Jesus is constantly bursting through doors, shoving past any person trying to hold him back, to reach out to the broken body on the literal or metaphorical hospital bed. He is constantly saying, “I am here. You are not alone.”

Maybe why this matters might be self-evident. Nonetheless, I’d like to flesh it out just a bit more.  Do you remember the end of our reading from Proverbs: “Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight." We are able to walk in the way of insight, to lay aside immaturity, in part because we recognize that we are not by ourselves when we make decisions. Each choice we make, whether to show love or hate, to promote ignorance or knowledge, to encourage or discourage, is a choice that we make together with God. God is right there with us the whole time.

I’d like to illustrate with another story. Fannie Lou Hamer was a leader in the civil rights movement in Mississippi from the 1950’s through the 1970’s One of her goals was the integration of the Democratic Party. At the 1964 Democratic Presidential Convention, she showed up leading a delegation from the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, an integrated delegation unlike the lily-white regular delegation from the Mississippi Democratic Party. In trying to figure out what to do with her, President Lyndon Johnson, who was known to dismiss her as “That illiterate woman”, sent out his Vice Presidential candidate, Hubert Humphrey, to talk to her. After going back and forth for some time, Humphrey, who had been a champion of integration in his own right, asked her in exasperation, what do you want? Hamer replied, “the beginning of a New Kingdom right here on Earth.” Then she said she would pray to Jesus for Humphrey, and they went their separate ways. Four years later, Hubert Humphrey was the Democratic nominee for president, and the Democratic Party convention required, at his urging, that all convention delegations had to be integrated.

Now Ms. Hamer, despite her many virtues, was not an Episcopalian. Despite that, she lived her life boldly with this basic recognition that God was with her in all that she did. And this gave her the courage to challenge the injustices of her society. As Episcopalians, we use the language of ritual and sacrament to help us to remember the same lesson.

The Eucharist is one way that we know God is with us. The language of today’s gospel passage should be familiar, because we use it regularly during the Eucharist. The sacrament of the bread and wine is how we eat and drink of Jesus today. It is a physical, tangible way to experience the truth that Jesus was Emmanuel, a word that literally means “God with us.”

To be clear, the Eucharist means more than this. But this is a part of the meaning of the sacrament. So my prayer for all of us is that we go forth into the world as people who have been fed with food that lets us know we are not alone. God is here with us. And because of that, we can have courage to face the injustices of society today. Amen.

Get Up! God has Plans. Aug 9, 2015

Jane was finished. The pain too much, the efforts to relieve it too much, the hate she had for her very being, toooo much. So, she drove partway across the bridge and stopped. With a deep breath and a resolve she hadn’t been able to muster for years, she got out of the car, climbed over the guardrail and looked down, prepared to jump.
But, as is so often the case, God had other plans.
There was a hesitation—not really doubt, not even fear, Jane couldn’t explain it, but something caused her to pause and in that moment, a soft voice said, “it’s not hopeless. Please don’t jump.” And, as she turned to face the speaker of those words, a gentle giant of a man wrapped his mammoth arms around Jane and lifted her to safety. Jane says it was a Holy Spirit moment….Joe, the truck driver who saved her life, agrees. “I’m not one to get involved–I figure folks deserve privacy. I don’t know what came over me-- It had to have been a higher power. I did the rescuing, but it wasn’t me, someone/something else took control.
Yes, God had other plans.
Elijah’s toast. He’s done. He dared to disagree with King Ahab’s wife, Jezebel and neither she nor the king were amused. Elijah was literally running for his life. He knew that there was nowhere to hide, he knew that eventually he would tire out and the King’s guards would find him and that would be that. So, Elijah, exhausted and berating himself for his lack of faith, collapses under the broom tree—a desert shrub---and begs for death to overtake him.
But God had other plans.
While sleeping, a messenger taps Elijah and says, “Get up! Eat something!”
Elijah opened his eyes and saw bread and water right by his head. He ate and drank, and then went back to sleep.
A second time the messenger awakens Elijah, saying, “Get up!”
“Eat something, because you have a difficult road ahead of you.”
Elijah got up, ate and drank, and refreshed by that food for forty days and nights, Elijah carried on.
Because God had other plans.
At General Convention in Salt Lake City last month, our Presiding Bishop Katharine preached a fabulous sermon on the gospel story where the woman who was bold enough to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe is healed of her hemorrhage and where Jesus heals Jairus’ daughter , pulling her off her deathbed with the wonderful admonition “Talitha Cum”…translated as Get Up Girl!
This woman and this girl were as good as dead, but God? God had other plans.
God, through messengers, prophets, apostles, the Messiah and the Holy Spirit, calls to us all the time, telling us to “Get Up, wash our face and get something to eat, there’s work to do and God needs us…yep you and me specifically, to do this. Get up girl, get up boy, get up man get up woman, get up church, get up world, there is work to do and WE are just the people to do it.



Yep, God has plans for us:
Get up, woman.
That’s what the Holy Spirit was saying to Jane as she climbed over that guardrail.
Get up, man.
That’s what God was saying to Joe, the truck driver who prided himself on not getting involved but who got involved and pulled Jane from the edge.
Get up, prophet!
That’s what the messenger was saying to Elijah, “your work is not yet done.”
And yes, by the way, the road will be long, the journey tough, but GET UP, for I need you---yes YOU---to do this work and to do it now.
It’s a good message and it’s one we’d all be wise to heed.
Get up girl. Oh you’re hungry? No worries, “I am the bread of life.”
Get up boy. Oh, you’re thirsty? No problem, those who come to me, fully and completely, will never ever be thirsty.
Get up woman. What, you’re scared? You don’t know how to do it? It’s ok, I do. Follow Me.
Get up man. What’s that, you’re too tired? You’ve tried everything and nothing works? Well, get up ---through me you’ll find your way and. I need you… there’s work to be done.
Throughout this month of August we read from John’s gospel and in particular, what’s known as the Bread of Life Discourse. In these 50 + verses Jesus repeatedly tells us that he’s all the nourishment we need. That the strength we find sapped from our very being; that the hope we find elusive at best and utterly absent at best isn’t gone, it hasn’t run out, it hasn’t been removed.
 It’s still there.
It’s always there.
Jesus is telling us in these gospels, Elijah is showing us in the reading from Kings that hope and strength aren’t things we create, or earn, or acquire. They’re gifts, given to us by and through the unending, outrageous, abundant love of God.
It can’t be said enough. God loves us beyond all measure.
But God’s love of us doesn’t mean that the road won’t be long, bumpy, scary and full of detours.
It will be. It is!

And that’s just what Jesus is trying to get across to us in these endless verses about being the Bread of Life.
Life isn’t easy. We’re faced with challenges all the time. Scary things.
Difficult things.
Heartbreaking things.
There are times when we want to give up.
There are times when we, just like Elijah, want to set ourselves down under a broom tree and fall asleep, hoping to never wake up.
There are those of us who, like Jane, have contemplated ending it all by our own hand.
There are those of us who’ve lost the ones we love because they became overwhelmed, heartbroken and at the end of their rope.
Life is most definitely NOT EASY.
But, as we say in the invitation to communion at Ascension and as I think Jesus is telling us through the Bread of life verses and the messenger told Elijah and the Presiding Bishop told us in the sermon:
Come to this altar, we have a holy meal to share.
Come, those of you who have much faith and those who feel you have none.
Come, those of you who have tried to follow Jesus, but believe you’ve failed.
This is the feast of Jesus our Lord;
holy food for holy people.
So get up girl, boy, woman and man….come and be fed, God has plans for us.

Deacon Pete's Sermon for Aug 2 2015

You’re not yourself when you’re hungry…I stole that line from the snickers commercials.  You’ve probably seen them, the most recent being a take off on the Brady Bunch.  Carol and Mike are sitting on the couch, a man walks in, carrying an ax, a kind of cross between a biker dude and a cave man.  He is whining about Greg tossing the football in his face and breaking his nose.  Carol and Mike recommend eating a Snickers and lo and behold, Marsha appears in place of the cave man biker dude.  You’re not yourself when you’re hungry.
Enter the Israelites.  They have been traveling for 6 weeks.   They are 6 weeks past the oasis of Elim with its fresh water and date trees.  They are 6 weeks into this journey and the promised land is no where in sight.  They are running low on supplies and the pillar of fire is only leading them to more sand.  The whole congregation is upset, full of doubts, and incredibly, they have forgotten the violence and unjustice of slavery in Egypt, they remember only that they were full of bread.  You’re not yourself when you’re hungry.
The Isaelites are not themselves.  They are not behaving as beloved children of God, chosen by God from all other nations to be God’s very own.  They see the desert as a barren, inhospitable place and have no sense that God is with them.  Moses and Aaron take the brunt of the people’s grumbling and dissatisfaction until God steps in.  They are all about to learn something. Unlike Aaron and Moses who are frustrated by their folks, God hears their concerns and responds.  God rains food from the skies and the people learn that God is indeed faithful and can be trusted.  God is using the manna to test them.  Are they faithful enough to gather only what they need for this day, are they trusting that tomorrow God will provide for that day?  Will the Israelites let the experience of God providing daily bread teach them that this is indeed a God who is faithful in relationship.  Will they let this experience teach them that God will feed them physically and more importantly that God will feed them spiritually.  Will this experience be a Snickers moment for them, one that will encourage and allow them to be themselves, God’s chosen people?
We aren’t ourselves when we’re hungry.  We also aren’t ourselves when we’ve eaten but haven’t digested or processed what we have been given to eat.  Our reading from Ephesians speaks of another type of food that God gives us, the nourishment of grace; ”each of us is given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift.” This grace is a food that is ours abundantly, is rained down upon us as the manna was rained down upon the Israelites.  Our task is to gather it, to claim it and then to use it to nourish ourselves.  We are then called to digest this grace, to process this grace and to share it with others. This grace is made manifest in all our works of ministry, in all the ways we build up the body of Christ.
Here in this diocese we have worked hard to feed children this summer.  At the Eaton Reading program children were provided with breakfast, lunch and frequent snacks for the last 5 weeks.  They were fed regularly and they were fed with joy and kindness.  They were given manna for their bodies.  They were also fed cognitively.  They spent the day in 6 learning stations, stations focused on the alphabet, reading, writing, and phonics.  They read and read and read.  The growth in their comfort and competence when reading was significant.  They were also fed physically and relationally. They played games inside and outside, games that were unfamiliar to many of them.  They visited a farm, had the zoo mobile come to them.  They went to the planetarium, the aquarium and the science museum.  Their horizons were expanded.  Much of the time they received one-on-one attention and individual care thanks to our adult and teen volunteers.  We aren’t ourselves when we’re hungry and we are not ourselves when we allow others to remain hungry for the grace that we have been given.   The Eaton Reading program was an experience for that provided an opportunity for grace to be shared.  It was a work of ministry freely given with no strings attached, with no plan for future returns to us.  Without praying a prayer or singing a hymn the children who attended and those who volunteered worked to build up the body of Christ.
Today’s Gospel occurs the day after Jesus multiplies the loaves and the fishes.  The crowd has been fed and they are pretty happy.  They have been fed, but they have not processed the food they have been given.  They want a sign from Jesus, they want manna raining from heaven.  Jesus responds that He is the Bread of Life and whoever comes to Him will never be hungry.  Jesus does not promise an endless feast of physical food but offers himself as spiritual food that will satisfy all of our needs; spiritual, physical, and relational.  In this offering of himself, Jesus is not feeding us as individuals. Jesus feeds us corporately, at this table.  We are fed and fueled by the same bread, the same faith. (Rev. David Sellery, The Jesus Diet, us6.campaign-archive2.com)
The Grace we receive here is free and it is a gift unlike any other.  It is a gift grounded in transformation, but not for our transformation only, it is also given to us for the transformation of others.  We are here to do God’s work in the world, to share the Bread of Life (ibid).  We are not ourselves when we are hungry.  We are not ourselves when we eat for ourselves alone.  It is only when we take the nourishment offered here, process it and spread it that we become ourselves.
Abundance is a river from God flowing through us to others.  It is only by feeding others that we will truly end our own hunger.  Amen.

“Family Hold Back Turned Inside Out” Proper 12, Yr B July 26, 2015

+“Family hold back,” was a familiar refrain in my family. My parents entertained a lot and often, before a dinner party, Mom would say something like, “I don’t think we made enough potatoes, so family, hold back.” In the Dempesy family culture there was nothing as horrifying as the thought that our guests wouldn’t have enough to eat, so no matter what, “family, hold back!” Of course, I never remember a time when there wasn’t enough food for everyone around the table. Never. Yet, still, to this day, when Mom cooks dinner she’ll invariably warn us to “hold back, there might not be enough.” When I reflect on my upbringing, this fear of scarcity was a major focus. My mother then, and my mother now, is afraid that there simply won’t be enough. I’m happy to say that in recent months, perhaps it’s her winning the staring contest with death, perhaps it’s better living through pharmaceuticals, or perhaps a combination of both, that scarcity drumbeat appears to be slowing.
Mom would have fit right in with Philip in today’s gospel who, when asked by Jesus to provide food for the gathered 5,000, immediately looks at the whole situation from a stance of scarcity—there’s no way! It will cost too much!! It’s impossible!
Now Andrew, at least he’s noticed the boy with the barley loaves and two fish…but even after that discovery of possibility, Andrew falls into scarcity and pessimism—what good will that meager amount be with ALL THESE PEOPLE?
Now in Jesus’ time, the middle classes, the wealthy, the Greek merchants and the Roman occupiers all ate wheat bread – the poor ate bread made from barley. So this boy was not well to do…he was just another peasant whose barley loaf and fish was, most likely, dinner for his family. So how was it that this person, this boy, came to share his food with 5,000 people?
Did he shyly tug at Andrew’s elbow and say, “It’s not much but the Teacher can have it.”  Did he sit off in a corner with his lunch under his cloak, occasionally sneaking a bite before he was spotted by Andrew, who then said, “You need to share that.”? Or was it something in between?  How was it that the boy decided to share?
Surely the boy had to wonder about what difference his little bit of food would make.  He had to think, “There are so many and I have so little.  All that will happen is I’ll have to go hungry along with everyone else.  Better to keep what’s mine and let the other people take care of themselves.”  
It’s easy to think, “What difference will it make?  I barely have enough for myself, how could I possibly give to others? “There isn’t enough” is a mantra familiar to all of us.
But, instead of never enough, our readings today talk about always enough…and more! They call us to have enough faith in God to share what we have and enough trust in God to fill in the rest.
In 2nd Kings, because of a famine, the traditional offering of first fruits is paltry-- 20 barley loaves and a handful of other fresh grain--- “a family hold back” offering meal if there ever was one! But Elisha doesn’t bat an eye. “Give it to the people.” he says, “The Lord has promised, ‘Eat and there shall be leftovers! ”
Right there, in the midst of scarcity, faith and abundance.
 And again, in today’s Gospel, the boy hands over his meager groceries to Jesus.  And, once again, somehow, someway, God provides.
There’s plenty, more than enough for everyone. Jesus makes a rich feast out of a peasant’s dinner, no one holds back and everyone is filled. PLUS there’s leftovers!
We often think we don’t have much to offer God or the world, either personally or as a congregation. We see ourselves as poor, small, weak, unworthy or otherwise inadequate. We hold back, thinking no one will want what we have, for it’s simply NOT ENOUGH. You know what God says to that?
“Hogwash.”
Ours is a God who takes our little and turns it into a lot.  We often try to hang on to what we have because we don’t really trust God’s promise that if we turn everything over to God we’ll be all right, we really will.  Deep down, most of us don’t believe that God will take what we grudgingly, almost reluctantly, hand over and turn it into more than we ever imagined possible.
But God has done and will do just that.
God doesn’t really want our treasure, God wants our trust.
God doesn’t really want our finances, God wants our faith.
 God doesn’t really want our things, God wants us.
God wants us to let go of everything else and truly believe that we can rely on the fact that the divine and holy love that made our universe also made us and that this immense love, a love “that is beyond all knowledge,” (Ephesians 3:19) will provide for us and will use us to provide for others.
It might not seem like 20 kids in Eaton camp will make a dent in the pervasive system of poverty in our region but Pete and Barb and Nancy and Andrea and Gloria and I are here to say it has.
It might not seem like a congregation of 20 people at Ascension could make an impact on this diocese and this city, but the pet food pantry has been replicated 4 times (and counting) in this diocese...plus we have distributed some 7 tons of pet food in 4 years…plus I get A LOT of phone calls asking me how it is that Ascension was brave enough to let go of their building and GS was gracious enough to share theirs.
It might not seem like a handful of people sorting books and serving breakfast to the kids at school 54 can make a difference; or 15 people giving blood would be enough to save 45 lives; or that 8 stalwart volunteers in our food pantry could possibly provide 60,000 meals a year…but guess what?
When we trust in God, when we have faith in God, when we love God enough to give all that we are and all that we have, “family hold back” is turned inside out and upside down and suddenly, from our meager and simple offering, there’s enough. And then some.
Amen.

We are the smelly, stubborn, not all that bright sheep Proper 11 Yr B July 19, 2015

The 23rd Psalm is one of those pieces of scripture we can easily quote. But when was the last time you spent anytime with it, considering just what it’s telling us, here, today?
The Lord is our shepherd. A shepherd never ever gives up on the sheep. No matter how whiny, smelly and stupid they are. Now I don’t know a lot about sheep , but I do know this, they aren’t very smart. Not at all. They get themselves into problems ALL THE TIME. They get into bramble from which they need to be carefully and lovingly extracted. They get lost as they wander around, seeking a greener pasture, a larger pool of water, a more exciting herd…when they find themselves lost they panic, baaing and bleating with a despair and longing that pierces the heart of the shepherd.
The shepherd never lets the sheep go without. The shepherd will not stop until every sheep is fed, watered and secured for the night. The shepherd makes sure that the burdens befalling each every sheep are lifted, the shepherd guards them, protects them and nurtures them.
The shepherd takes the sheep and MAKES them lie down in green pastures. The shepherd leads the sheep to still and luscious waters. Sometimes this is hard. Sheep are often uncooperative. Stubborn. Bull-headed, anxious to do what they think is best for them. But the shepherd, the shepherd uses whatever means possible to get the sheep to finally relent so that they can get the rest and refreshment they need to face come what may.
The Shepherd revives the soul of her sheep by guiding them—again often by any means necessary----along right pathways, good roads, in a direction toward light and life and love instead of the road of despair and darkness and fear.
Sometimes sheep face horrific terror: predators, drought, loss, danger. The shepherd, even when the sheep have found themselves deep within the valley of death and horror and anger and hate and loss, has his staff extended, a lifeline for the sheep, for when the crook of that staff, the length of that powerful arm of love reaches the sheep, and the sheep stop fighting it, no evil in the world---human made or nature made, will conquer them. For that rod and staff of the shepherd? It comforts, it shelters, it secures. In that grasp, all will be well.
The shepherd, marvelous as she is, spreads a feast before her sheep….the shepherd, always aware of the enemy the devil who is lurking about, spreads this feast just out of the reach of those who wish the sheep harm. Remember that rod and that staff, they keep the darkness away, they shield the flock from harm so that in joyous community, the sheep may lay their burdens down and feast on the gift of love. The sheep, when they relinquish their false sense of control, find their very beings covered in sweet oil and their “cup” overflowing with blessing. The sheep when they turn in full surrender to the loving direction of the shepherd, find themselves in a peace and security not known since they rested in their mother’s womb.
The problem with sheep, though, is that their memory stinks. They are very good forgetters. And so that’s what they do.
They forget.
They wander off.
They get mired in the bramble.
They get lost.
They resist getting found.
They get angry
Belligerent even.
And then?
Then they get sad.
Really sad.
And scared.
Really scared.
And then?
The shepherd shows up.
Well, actually, the shepherd has always been there, searching, reaching out, longing to have the sheep follow his call.
In the end, in the happy ending version of this story, the sheep end up listening. They end up hearing and they follow the call of the Shepherd. They respond to her voice, they find their way home.
Our Lord, our God is, of course, our shepherd. And we? Obviously, we are the sheep.
We are the smelly, stubborn, not all that bright sheep.
We’re lost.
We’re stuck.
We’re scared.
But just around the corner, just up beyond the hill, lies a green pasture of lusciousness and joy beyond anything we can fathom.
We’re lost.
We’re stuck.
We’re scared.
But just around the corner, just beyond the hill, is a pond of still clear waters the likes of which you’ve never seen or tasted--water so refreshing it quenches thirsts you never even knew you had.
We’re lost
We’re stuck
We’re scared
But, just around the corner, just beyond the hill, is a table spread with a manna that is heaven sent. Holy food for holy and blessed people. A food that, when we eat of it, satisfies hungers previously unknown, hungers previously so deep, so sharp, so seemingly un-fillable we long ago gave up seeking to be sated.
Even though the average American has far more ‘stuff’ than in any other time in our history, so many of us live pretty empty lives. We run from our homes to our jobs to the gym or our second jobs or our elderly parent’s house or or or….but at the end of the day when we stop to search for meaning and for hope and for joy, too many of us come up empty- handed…not because meaning, hope and joy aren’t available to us, but because we are so often too lost, too scared and too stuck to notice.
The truth is, the Lord is our shepherd and we are God’s sometimes smelly, often stubborn and really not all that bright, sheep.
May we take the 23rd psalm to heart and  
may we find our way back to the fold over smooth pathways, straight roads and verdant valleys.
For the good news is, the great news is this:
 the Lord is our Shepherd and we shall never ever want.
Amen and Alleluia.

God's Like. Proper 10, Yr B July 12, 2015

+We’ve all seen it, some of us have done it, some of us have had it done to us. A parent and child are in the grocery store and the child is engaged in a full blown, foot stomping, ear piercing, temper tantrum. The parent, displaying amazing restraint, says, “You know I love you, but right now I don’t like you very much.”
In most cases, the love of a parent for a child is unconditional….but the like? Oh that’s conditional…there are times we really don’t like the people we love.
Is God, as the ultimate parent, any different? I don’t think so. I know God loves us, but I’m not sure God likes us all the time.
Consider our reading from Amos.
The visions Amos had were clear: God was none too happy with Israel. Established ramrod straight as if on a plumb line the people had gone askew and God, well God was disappointed, angry and perhaps at wit’s end. Right then, God didn’t like God’s people too much.
So God sends this tree dresser, this gardener, a regular guy out to tell the truth: God loves you but God sure doesn’t like you so much right now. And as the reading tells us, “the land couldn’t cope with everything he was saying.” Or, in an older translation, “the land couldn’t bear all his words.”
The people didn’t like what they heard. The people liked being loved, but they didn’t like being held accountable.
 Sometimes it’s really hard to accept love—because with love comes great responsibility, responsibility to nurture that love, to respect it and to heed its demands. So the Israelites shut Amos out, despising and rejecting him— they truly couldn’t bear the message being shared …they didn’t want to hear that with God’s love comes expectation. They didn’t accept that Love is a two way street.
Today’s Gospel gives us another glimpse into what happens when we, as recipients of God’s great Love fail to live up to our end of the bargain.

Herod is a sad sap. Now remember this isn’t the Herod of the nativity story, that Herod was ruthless and sure of himself. This Herod? Not so sure of himself. And even though he was attracted to John’s message he didn’t follow John as he may have wanted  because, although Herod was King, he most certainly didn’t wear the pants in the family, so although John’s words made his heart burn, fear of his wife made his very being quake so instead of following John, Herod is manipulated by his wife and ends up giving her what she wanted: John’s head on a platter. At that moment, in that situation, Herod had a choice, follow the Love of God as he received it through the words of John or follow his pride and his social standing to adhere to his manipulative and vengeful wife’s hatred.
By denying what he was feeling about John Herod has rejected God. Herod has taken God’s love and simply said, ‘no thank you.”
How often do we choose to save face only to break God’s heart?
The Israelites of Amos’ time did it, Herod did it and you and I do it.
We love God. We know God loves us…but that love so easily fades to the  background when we’re faced with the “expectations” of this world, the “expectations” of our own social circle, the “expectations” of our family. How often do we choose the “socially expected” way, the way that will make the fewest waves, cause the least amount of relationship strain instead of the way of God?
When we do that, God doesn’t like us too much.
When we cross the street to avoid the homeless person, God doesn’t like us too much. God doesn’t expect us to give them money, God simply expects us to look them in the eye and to treat them as the human being—the beloved child of God they are.
When we hear someone demeaning the dignity of another human being based on the color of their skin, the name they call their God or the gender of their beloved and we fail to confront that person for their intolerance and hate, God doesn’t like us too much.
When we participate in the destruction of this, our glorious planet, when we are too lazy to recycle, to cheap to demand our food be produced in environmentally sound ways, when we drive bigger and bigger cars, regardless of the cost to earth, God doesn’t like us very much.
When we fail to confront the loved one whose self-destructive behavior is destroying everything good in their world, God doesn’t like us very much.
When we fail to do one of the simplest things we can do to give life to another, by giving blood and by being an organ donor, God doesn’t like us too much.
With love comes great responsibility. To truly love God and to fully accept God’s love of us, we must make the difficult choices, we must speak the hard to hear words.
Herod couldn’t do that—even when face to face with a prophet, face to face with a messenger from God, his heart burning with a recognition that this man brought him something no amount of fame fortune power or prestige could give him couldn’t do that. He rejected the love of God and killed the messenger, all for a few moments of temporal glory and family peace.
Israel in the days Amos, wouldn’t accept God’s love. They doubted, they feared they lost their faith and in so doing, they made God mad. Not mad enough to remove God’s love, but mad enough to make them mighty uncomfortable . God still loved them, but they were too caught up in the here and now to remember that love and to spread it.
We’re no different.
With God’s love comes great expectations. We must let our hearts burn with recognition, we must set out to love and serve the Lord in all we do. We must gather here proclaiming God’s love and then leave here showing the world that love in all that we do and with all whom we meet.
 For this is what God likes, a people who know they are loved and in turn love each other in God’s name. When we do that, not only will we be loved, but we’ll also be liked.
Amen.

Notes for my remarks regarding General Convention 78

It is good to be home again.
But, as I think Jesus learned in today's Gospel, leaving home is helpful
--- it changes one's perspective
-----Giving one fresh eyes

And sometimes, when you return home after being gone, you've changed, but home still sees you as you've always been.
And therein lies the conflict and the challenge....you are full of new ideas, you are different.
But folks see you as you've always been.
General convention is a bit homecoming and a bit entering a new land.
You catch up with old friends--- I saw Paul Lillie, seminary friends, folks from Chicago and in one instance someone I've known for over 40 years--- and you make new.
You see these old friends in a different light and you consider your new friends in a unique light--- that of being among several thousand other Episcopalians!
General convention changed our church
And it changed my life
Just as it should!

First of all, being anywhere where episcopalians make up the majority is awesome.
Everywhere we went in SLC there was a sign, welcoming us! They were happy to have us.

Secondly, everyone was really happy.
Now remember we are not of one mind----(table)
But we are of one God
And at GC that really comes through
We truly are a church of via media....the middle way....and everyone must adapt, adjust, bend to create a unified whole

Not so easy for those on the far edges

But everyone worked very hard at it.

So,let take you through what we did as we took the councils of the church for 10 days:

Budget.... Diocesan asking will go down by 2019, but by streamlining some things we should be able to do this without significant cuts. (iPads)

----PB election

Liturgical revision:
BCP
HYMNAL
NAME CHANGE LITURGY
REGULARIZING THE IRREGULAR
DISCUSSION ABOUT BAPTISM

Alcohol use in congregations
Many other "inside baseball" issues that can be tedious but will affect us at the parish level in due time.

We are a people of representative governance. You elect, we represent and on we go.
It's an amazing thing.

And then there is the worship!!! Wow.

Get up girl!!

It's not that hard to find lost sheep...without the lost sheep and the beggars we are nothing but a museum

Music. Dancing. Praising God in many forms and in different languages.

But of course, overarching the whole experience were three events--- one national and two church wide---
Which will change many lives for generations

Supreme Court marriage equality

+Michael

Church marriage equality



Structure



But as Presiding Bishop elect reminded us, we are a Jesus people and Jesus people are committed to making disciples of the whole world

I don't care who you are,
how the Lord has made you,
what the world has to say about you,
if you've been baptized into Jesus
you're in the Jesus Movement and your God's.

As he died to make folk holy
Let us live to set them free
While God is marching on.
Glory.
Glory, hallelujah.
God's truth is marching on.
Now go.

~The Rt. Rev. Michael Curry,
Presiding Bishop - Elect

*****************************************************************************

At the 4:30 service I worked off these notes:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—

Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

From June 24-July 3, as we gathered Episcopalians from far and wide we witnessed the fundamental truth of these statements come to fruition in our country and in our church. 

And it was awesome. 

We did a lot of work—much of it the “inside baseball” of church polity and structure—all good but not immediately germane to our life together. 

And then, as I was sitting in a committee meeting the text message I’ll never forget came through on my phone---the Supreme Court had voted 5-4 for marriage equality. Suddenly I and so many people I know, knew that our marriages were not only “valid” in the eyes of the state they were, at that very moment, the law of the land. Suddenly Pete and I, along with thousands of others were full citizens. 

And then we did some really bold things:

We elected the first African American to hold the office of Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church---Michael Bruce Curry, a prophet, an evangelist and a born leader. We are blessed to call Michael ours as he was raised at St Phil. 

The electricity around his election, the power of the Holy Spirit as the Bishop’s elected---in a landslide and on the first ballot---him and then we, in the House of Deputies, confirmed their choice---was incredible. 

And then we did some other business…like opening the way for other churches to experiment with liturgy as we do here….we decreased the tax levied on dioceses….we addressed issues of alcohol abuse among the clergy and in many of our parishes….we talked about divestment of investments that feed the hatred of Palestinians in Israel….we voted to make a plan fro the revision of the 1979 BCP and the 1982 Hymnal. We did a lot of work. 

And then the Holy Spirit did her thing again and in four momentous votes---two in the HOB and two in the HOD---we stated, once and for all, that all people are free to be married in our churches and that the sexual orientation of those people, or the gender identity of those people DOES NOT MATTER. That what matters is Love and that once and for all in our church—the church Pete and I were born into and love----those whom God has brought together, let NO ONE put asunder. In other words, ---all people---in this country and in our church, are created equal---ain’t nobody gonna mess with out marriage.

Two hymns best exemplify the feeling of General Convention and the supreme court decision of last week ---

Lift Every Voice and Sing and The Battle Hymn of the Republic---

Lift Every Voice and Sing 

Lift every voice and sing

till earth and heaven ring,

ring with the harmonies of liberty.

Today, my friends, this is true.

Later in the hymn we sing:

God of our weary years,

God of our silent tears,

My brothers and sisters in Christ, for years, for decades, for generations, for millennia, many of us have felt weary and have shed gallons of silent tears.

But now…now those tears have turned from those of weary separation into tears of unbounded joy….

But here’s the thing---whenever the oppression of one is ended it is incumbent upon those who once were lost but are now found to go out and find the lost sheep of this world, the despairing, the hopeless and the terrified an to bring them back into the fold. Our current presiding Bishop, in her sermon to us last Sunday told us that it was time to get up and get out into the world, spreading the Good News of God to all whom we encounter. This may be old news to us at Ascension, but it is very new news to much of our church and it was refreshing to hear it from the Presiding Bishop and then, this past Friday we heard a riveting sermon from our Presiding Bishop-elect who picking up on the theme of inclusion and going out into the world, making disciples of the nations, ended his sermon with this adaptation of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, one of my favorite hymns of all time:

I don't care who you are,

how the Lord has made you,

what the world has to say about you,

if you've been baptized into Jesus

you're in the Jesus Movement and you’re God's.

As he died to make folk holy

Let us live to set them free

While God is marching on.

Glory.

Glory, hallelujah.

God's truth is marching on.

Now go.

~The Rt. Rev. Michael Curry,

Presiding Bishop – Elect

So yes, much was accomplished at the GC but there is much more to do until all peoples—all peoples---will, in joy and thanksgiving lift their voices in a unified hymn of praise to the one God who loves all of us, no exceptions.