Epiphany 3 January 21, 2018 St Michael and All Angels The Time of Fulfillment is Now

+“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” With these words, it’s clear that John’s prophecy that he must decrease so that Jesus may increase, has come true.

 Jesus has appeared on the scene, ready to take what John had built and… well… turn it inside out and upside down! 

Jesus is telling all in earshot (including us) that the wait is over, the time is now, the Kingdom of God is close and all we have to do is turn ourselves around, go in a new direction, and follow Him. Jesus is saying, “The old way has served us well, but to move ahead, to continue to move forward, we need to change.” 

Change? Who likes change? I mean, when it’s our idea, like changing a hair style, buying a new car, or searching for a new job—when it’s our idea change doesn’t feel so bad. But when someone else tells us it’s time to change, well then change doesn’t always feel so good does it? 

I remember when I told the people at Good Shepherd and Ascension that I had taken this job with the diocese and would be ending my time as their rector…that it was the right time for me to make this change. I had several parishioners tell me—-“well it might be the right time for you, but it certainly isn’t the right time for us!” 

It wasn’t a joint decision that I leave, it wasn’t their idea that I leave, it was my idea, a decision reached after much prayer and conversation with my family and the Bishop.

Most people at those two churches (because let’s face it, there are always folks who aren’t that crazy about the rector and are happy to see them leave!) didn’t like this change one bit. 

I have a hunch some of you may feel the same way about Jack’s departure. It was a private and personal discernment that Jack did. It was the right change for Jack, but not necessarily for you. 

But here’s the thing with change, and discernment and listening to God’s call---it doesn’t always feel right, but it is very often exactly right. 

Maybe it’s the right time for St Michael and All Angels to make a change. Maybe this doesn’t have to be a sad time, maybe it can be an exciting time. 

What’s next for St Michael and All Angels?

Reflect on where Jack led you, reflect on where you were when he arrived and where you are now and instead of asking yourself, “Now what? (Downcast and depressed) ask yourselves, (excited and eager) “Now what!!!”

This is the point of today’s Gospel. Changing, turning in a new direction isn’t comfortable, is often difficult and is rarely boring. 

Which is why we don’t have a priest leave and then immediately put another priest in to take his/her place. We encourage an interim period, a time to get used to the idea of life without “what was” and time to live into what may be, what could be, what will be!

When Jesus came upon the fishermen, Simon (who will become Peter), Andrew, John and James, he invited them to follow him and fish for people. And they, all four of them, immediately dropped their nets, left their old lives and followed him. They were ready to take this chance to turn a new direction, to try something new. 

Several biblical commentators posit that Andrew and Simon, John and James had known Jesus before this encounter and that while they may have been intrigued by him Jesus knew they weren’t ready to follow him then. I believe Jesus knew he wasn’t ready to lead then. So they waited…waited for that time when He would come to them and say, “it’s time.” And when He did, they were ready. They’d waited and when the time came, they were willing, and they were able.

Folks, such is the time for the people of St. Michael and All Angels, this is the time to get ready, to consider what direction you’d like to turn, who you’d  like St Michael’s to be in the coming decade. How will St Michael’s serve her community—-not just those within these walls but those out there--- the hungry, the hurting, the lonely, the searching? 

Right now you don’t know...but in a few months, after you’ve done the work our transition officer will lead you through, you’ll have a better idea of who you are, of who you wish to be as a community. You’ll take time to listen to God, you’ll take time to wrestle with what’s next, but you’ll do the work and you’ll find your way.

My friends, the time is about to be fulfilled and the Kingdom of God is near, and your place in it, your role in it is vital. So go forth in peace, knowing that the Spirit of God will lead you to just where it is God needs you to be. 

Amen

1 The sky tore open, God’s voice cried out and everything changed. Grace Lockport January 14, 2018 (the calendar was altered to observe Epiphany on the 7th, Baptism of Christ on the 14th )

+That was quite a baptism wasn’t it?
Don’t let that dove gliding down upon Jesus fool you, His baptism wasn’t a peaceful event. The sky tore open and the voice of God indeed cried out.
Ok, so maybe to those nearby it seemed run of the mill---just another of John’s baptisms….but for Jesus this was something all together different. It says it right there in the Gospel… While he was coming up out of the water, Jesus saw heaven splitting open and the Spirit, like a dove, coming down on him. Now I don’t know if John and the others saw and heard what Jesus saw and heard, but John sure knows that something’s different with Jesus’ baptism. John says, “I baptize you with water,” “but [referencing Jesus] he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
So…what the heck does this mean?
Well, John’s baptism was an act that symbolized a change of intention. John’s baptism granted people forgiveness for all they had done up until then and then, as long as they continued to live a God-loving, God-following life they would be granted access to God’s Kingdom. It was a barter system. You apologize and promise to do good from now on and you get a prize: eternal life.
The baptism of Jesus was something altogether different…it was all about that sky tearing open and that voice booming from above. Once that happened, once the veil between heaven and earth was dropped and the voice of God spoke, Jesus was ready, anointed as God’s Son and he was set to begin a ministry that would change the world forever.
            Once that sky tore open and once that voice spoke, Jesus was, in effect, unleashed.
 No longer was the Kingdom of Heaven something accessible only to the chosen few, the Kingdom of Heaven, the joys of eternal life, the wonder of being part of the Body of Christ here on earth, the gift of the Spirit, grace upon grace, was available to everyone. Always and forever.
John was right, his baptism was a corrective measure, while Jesus’ baptism, the baptism of the Church, was and is a transforming and transfiguring action. Our baptisms serve as the outward and physical sign of our status as beloved children of God.
Now, while Jesus was born with a bit of fanfare, and was raised with episodic moments of intrigue and glory…. once he emerged from the waters of the Jordan, there were no more hints, there were no more glimpses…Jesus was ready to accept the mantel the Angel Gabriel had predicted would be his---Jesus, as this day in our church year commemorates was ready to begin the work that he was given to do.
Just like every baptism.

You see when we were baptized we were committed to live our lives as Jesus taught:
 Lives of service, lives of compassion, lives of justice, lives of love.
At the moment of our baptism, we’re publically committed to being what God created us to be---beloved children working tirelessly to bring the reign of Christ, the Kingdom of heaven to our world.
Our baptism, every baptism unleashes the Spirit in and between each and every one of us. And our job, from that point on forward, is to follow where the Spirit leads us…into the wilderness of the world. And every time we baptize a new member we have one more foot soldier in this effort to tame the darkness of this world with the light of Christ, a light that is ours for the claiming as children of God, children whom God loves dearly and who bring God great joy. And we need all the companions we can get!
 Because the reality is, defeating the darkness of This World, the darkness of injustice, the darkness of prejudice, the darkness of hate, is tough work.
The spirit isn’t always easy to take. The spirit usually takes us into uncomfortable territory. The spirit usually pushes us farther than we think we can go. The spirit has plans for us that simply aren’t on our bucket list.
But, and this is the thing, the Spirit, the spirit that descended onto Jesus at his baptism, the spirit that infused each and every one of us at our baptism is always and forever with us. We just need to have the courage, and the faith to trust that the Spirit will never leave us.
For when we follow the Spirit when we respond to the Spirit, the sky tears open and the joy of our Creator God brightens our path and leads us home.
So as we settle into the season of Epiphany let’s all take a few moments to listen for the Spirit. It may come to us as quietly as a dove, or as raucously as a voice booming from the torn open heavens, but let us listen, let us ponder and then let us follow in faith with thanksgiving. Amen.

God’s Among Us. The rest is up to us. Epiphany, 2018

+Today we’re observing the Feast of the Epiphany instead of the Baptism of Christ. I asked Fr Sam to do this because the Epiphany is easily overlooked. And I don’t want to overlook it. I want us to consider just what this birth of Christ meant 2000 years ago and what it means to us. Here. Now.
As the Magi approached Bethlehem, King Herod noticed. And he wasn’t pleased. Herod knew something about these Zoroastrian star-gazers from the East. He knew that it had to be some type of star to bring them all the way to Bethlehem…it had to be something BIG. Poor Herod, once the Magi arrived his worse fears were confirmed---the star—the crazy, wild star, was recognizing the birth of another King, a different type of King---a messiah, The messiah. The light of the world. A light that promised to change…EVERYTHING. And Herod?
He didn't like it one bit.
The birth of the Messiah, the Prince of Peace? Another King of the Jews? Herod would have none of this. You see, there's no one more sensitive to a threat--- real/or imagined-- than a puppet king with an inferiority complex. So, reacting out of his fear, Herod tried to trick the Magi into bringing the baby to him, so he could have the baby Jesus killed. But the Magi were smart, and after warning Mary and Joseph to get out of dodge, they went home by a different route—avoiding Herod at all costs—for this baby, this Jesus? He was something to be adored. He was something to behold. And he was certainly something to protect.
The birth of Jesus caused a stir…but just who is this Jesus? A King, a God, A man, a Son, a prophet, a preacher, a revolutionary, a Messiah?
Yes. And then some.
Who is he? What is he? Why is he? It's the question of this season of manifestation isn't it?
Or are you already past all of this? Has the tree come down, have the lights lost their charm, have the presents been tossed aside?
Are we still awash in the wonder of Christmas Eve?
Or have we moved on, back to the same ol’ same ol’?
From the announcement of Gabriel, to the visit to Elizabeth, the birth in the barn, the arrival of the Magi,  and in a few weeks, the presentation at the temple, we read that, “But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”
Our Epiphany challenge, our Epiphany task is to do as Mary, to ponder all that has occurred, to open our eyes to what and how and where “God among us” is taking shape.
Epiphany is a time to ponder, a time to adjust, a time to understand, a time to comprehend. A time to notice just how this whole miracle that just happened manifests itself in our lives.
It’s a tall order, I know. The stores have replaced the Christmas and New Year’s displays with Valentine’s Day, all those mundane things that demand so much of our attention are nagging at us.
Are we pondering the Christmas miracle in our hearts, or have we already returned to business as usual?
Folks, something astounding has happened.
God in the flesh has come to live among us, as one of us.
Did you notice? Do you notice, still?
At the moment of his birth, the cosmos cried out in exultation by flashing that dazzling star.
The heavenly hosts burst into song across the Bethlehem hills.
The shepherds noticed.
The star gazers in the east noticed.
Eventually Herod noticed.
But do we?
     Epiphany is all about the reality of “God among us” showing and shining in the world.
Does this reality excite you and fill you with joy? Or does it terrify you and fill you with fear? Who are you in this story? The fascinated Magi, the cowering, plotting Herod or the terrified and thrilled, scared and amazed shepherds? Maybe you’re Mary and Joseph, quietly pondering, silently trusting…
Are you filled with expectation about just who this Jesus will be and what he will do with us and through us?
Or are you Herod, threatened by anything that challenges the status quo, leery of anything new, anything different?
The birth of our Savior caused the stars, the planets, and the galaxies, to erupt in shiny exultation, intriguing the Magi, terrifying the  shepherds, baffling the Holy Family, infuriating Herod.
But what about You and what about me?
Are we bursting with this Good News?
Are we ready to arise and let the light of Christ shine upon us and upon all those whom we encounter? I hope so. Because truly, we have been given the greatest gift of all time---God Among Us. Right Here and Right Now.
The season of Epiphany is the season of acknowledging that God Among us in the World isn’t something to celebrate for one day and then go back to business as usual.
Epiphany is a time to ponder, to accept, to receive and then to go out into the world, shining the light, life, and love of Christ on everyone, everywhere. Always.
Because when we do that, we will change the world.



Amen.

Give Him Your Heart. Christmas 2017

6

In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now.Christmas 2017

+For years I dismissed the hymn “In the Bleak Midwinter.” The title itself turned me off---bleak midwinter? Forget it! But then I heard Annie Lennox’ version on her album Christmas Cornucopia. Lennox’ rendition is haunting, and the words hit me as being so honest, that I now listen to “In the Bleak Mid-Winter” year ‘round and have even used it as part of a Holy Week meditation. I am grateful to Christina Rosetti, the English poet who penned the words to the hymn in the 19th century and to Annie Lennox who got me to listen to it anew in the 21st.
My favorite line, and the one that summarizes my theology of Christmas well is this:  
“Our God, Heaven cannot hold “Him” nor earth sustain.”
God is so huge, so massive, so untamed that God’s… well God’s “Godness…” God’s Divinity…cannot be held in check. The Love and Light of all that is good in heaven and on earth cannot be contained, secured or held back. 

On this most Holy of Nights, God erupts out of heaven and pours out onto the earth.
In a barn.
In Bethlehem.
To a human mother.
Born. In the regular way---with the pain and the muck and the terror and the unspeakable, incomprehensible joy.
In the bleak midwinter…right here, and right now GOD has come to dwell among us.
In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now, God has arrived as a squawking, hungry, maybe even colicky baby.
In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now, in Attica New York, [in Buffalo New York], God has, once again arrived…as a vulnerable little being, in need of nurture. In need of care. In need of Love.
In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now, on this Holy night, God has descended from the heavenly throne to meet us right where weare.
In the Bleak Midwinter.
In Western New York.
In our hearts and throughout our souls,
God has arrived.
Here and Now, JUST AS WE ARE, God has come.
You who may only be here because your grandmother, grandfather, parent, sibling, spouse expects that you will , at least once or twice a year, attend church…

God has come for you and because of you.
You who may be a faithful attendee of church but who, if you’re honest, doesn’t even know what you believe anymore, God has come. For you, because of you, with you.
You who have so much fear, so much loss, so much doubt, God has come. Here and Now.
To be with you.
To be for you,
To be in you
To Be.
Here and Now
In the bleak midwinter of our lives, God, as God does again and again and again, God has come to be with us.
In the bleak midwinter our God, OUR GOD, the God for you, the God for me, the God for everyone everywhere, always and forever, has come because neither Heaven can hold this God, nor can Earth sustain. So this
 God, our God bridges the here and now with the always and forever.
     On this Holy Night, in this Bleak mid-winter, during our regular lives, full of hope and joy, full of doubt and despair, full of wonder and wander, God has come.
Not to judge.
Or to destroy
Or to terrorize.
No, on this Holy Night, in this mid-winter and in this place, God has broken into the world because God cannot stay away.
For God so loved the world that God came to be among us as Jesus the Christ.
God has broken free of heaven to roam this earth because God needs us.
And God knows, we need God.
    Perhaps you’re shocked that God needs us.
Perhaps you’re uncomfortable with the idea that you need God.
It’s why this night is so amazing, because it’s so very real:
We’re in this together, God and us. We both have our parts in bringing the Love, Light and Peace of God to this world. Right here and right now, on this Holy Night,  as we welcome the infant Jesus, we must remember that this birth, this baby, this gift is given to us and for us.

As the hymn states,
“What can I give him,
poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd,
I would bring a lamb;
if I were a wise man,
I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him-
give my heart.”
    It’s so easy to dismiss the arrival of God incarnate as a gift for someone else. Someone more worthy, someone more holy, someone more devoted.
It’s so easy to dismiss the arrival of God in the person of the Baby Jesus as something much too big for us to fathom, for us to earn, for us to understand. And you know what? It is. It’s too big, we can never earn it, and we certainly can never understand it.
Perhaps if we were wiser, we would do our part, perhaps if we were shepherds we would bring a lamb but we, you and me here and now on this Holy Night, what can we possibly do with the greatest gift ever given? 

                            We can accept it.

We can open our hearts and invite God in. My friends, here. Now, on this Holy Night I invite you to give this baby, our baby, our Lord, and our Savior, your heart.
Amen.Give

Soothing is temporary. Comfort is forever. St Luke’s Attica Advent 2B 2017

+”Comfort O Comfort my people, says the prophet Isaiah.
I don’t know about you, but I like to be comfortable. After a cold walk out to the barn, I love to change into flannel pants and a cozy sweatshirt.
We speak of comfort a lot---when someone seems really self-assured we say, “They’re so comfortable in their own skin.” Or when we eat a big old pot roast, or make a nice steaming stew, we call it comfort food.
This morning Isaiah is expressing a common refrain---we like to be comfortable…we long to be comfortable.
    The Israelites have just come out of exile; returning to the land their parents and grandparents had been forced to leave behind. A land the current generation had never lived in. For them, “home” was simply a fantasy, a place where problems never existed, where, if they could just get back, everything would be fine.
    I know the feeling. How many of us have said, “everything will be ok, just as soon as I make a little more money, or just as soon as the kids get a bit older, or as soon as my parent’s health problems stabilize, or as soon as my boss gives me a break.”
The Israelites thought, “everything will be ok, once we get home.”
But Isaiah is saying that while returning home was certainly soothing, it wouldn’t provide the comfort the Israelites longed for…because…
Only God can do that.
There’s only one source of true comfort: God.
We mistake all sorts of things for comfort. Often, what we think is comforting is, simply, soothing.
And soothing is qualitatively different than comforting.
To soothe is to alleviate, placate, relieve.
To comfort is to give strength and hope even in the most challenging of circumstances.
Soothing is temporary. Comfort is forever.
    Now, there’s nothing wrong with being soothed---there’s an awful lot of discomfort in our daily lives which is alleviated through soothing….and, even though when the soothing ends the discomfort returns, that little respite gives us the energy to fight through the disappointments and worries of daily life.
But, sometimes really bad things happen to us: Death, illness, abuse, heartbreak and hopelessness. Things that make us feel fragile, vulnerable, at risk. When that happens, we don’t need soothing, we need comfort.
As most of you know, a month ago I lost my wife to cancer. What gives more comfort than anything else in these dark days are those who’ve responded with cursing, laments and tears. I find this reaction honest and true. What really drives me nuts are those people who say, “oh you’ll be fine, every day will get easier.” Now, I know they’re just trying to soothe me…to give me a little relief…but I don’t want soothing I don’t want distraction. I CAN’T be distracted. Because-- and those of you who’ve dealt with deep hurt, fear and heartache know what I mean--when experiencing such gut-wrenching, life-changing events, nothing distracts.  You never forget what you’re going through. You can’t.
Soothing may distract, but it does not comfort. And comfort is what I long for.
Comfort is what I find through tears and laments.  Because when I fall apart, when I lose control, I am letting go and letting God. I’m making room for God’s comfort to envelope me.
      Isaiah knew that only by letting go of control, of the “what ifs”, the “if onlys,” the “whens” and the “one days,” do we allow God room to comfort us.
     Today I’m reminded of an inescapable reality—our resilience, our faith, our strength, our hope will, at times, wither and fade…at times life can just become TOO MUCH for us. And that’s ok.
Because we have God.
And God’s comfort is the one thing that will NEVER wither or fade.
     As our life unfolds, things happen: our paths get crooked, our valleys deepen, the mountains of despair grow higher and our spirit? It suffers. Soothing may take our mind off of the bumpy road, the deep valleys and the treacherous mountains of life, but when the soothing ends—and soothing always ends—we’re left with the crooked, the deep and the tall troubles of life. But when we focus on comfort, when we diligently and deliberately seek comfort in our lives, the road will straighten, the valley will rise, the mountains will lower and our spirit will renew.
So, my friends, focus not on what soothes, but rather focus on the One who comforts.
   Advent is a time to prepare for the coming of the Great Comforter, to ready ourselves for accepting the presence of God in our very lives and into our very beings. It’s a time when we accept that life is not always easy, and that fixes are not always quick. It’s a time when we accept that soothing, while less risky to pursue will, in time, wither and fade. It’s a time when we, each and every one of us, must prepare ourselves to accept the greatest comfort God has ever given us: a baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. +

All Saints 2017

I was supposed to celebrate and preach at Trinity Hamburg and St. Paul's Springville today. However, cancer got in the way and I needed to stay home with Pete. I had re-worked an All Saints' sermon I gave three years ago, to use today. Here it is: 
Death is difficult. No doubt most of us here have had more than our share of death—- death of family, of friends, of beloved pets,  death is difficult.
The slightest, seemingly inconsequential thing suddenly takes on new meaning and the grief and sadness that overcomes us can be very painful.
Sudden deaths are especially shocking and terribly sad.
And as we weep, God is there to wipe away every tear.
My dad was ravaged by cancer. He was a mere shadow of his former self, the primary lung cancer had metastasized to his brain and his bones. He was wracked with pain and was hallucinating. His death was a relief from all that horror. Yet still, as he took his final breath it was shocking and terribly sad.
And as we wept, God wiped away every tear.
When my young friend Ian fell into a deep darkness that I can’t even comprehend and decided to take his own life, so many of us were shocked and terribly sad.
And as we wept, God wiped away every tear.

Last week as word of the truck mowing down people on a bike path in lower Manhattan, our hearts sank and the memories of the now ubiquitous occasion of terror attacks came rushing back to the surface.
And as we wept, God wiped away every tear.
On September 11, 2001 we were collectively kicked in the gut, terrified and shocked as the twin towers fell.
And as we wept, God wiped away every tear.
When each of the people we will remember during this Eucharist died, those who loved them were shocked and terribly sad.
And each and every time:
God wiped away every tear
This is what makes today so wonderful in my eyes---it’s a day when the veil that separates the here and now with those who were and will be forever— lifts just a bit and we find ourselves in that Thin Place where the wonders of life eternal visit us here in our life temporal, reminding us that we are never ever alone, no matter how deep the grief, no matter how painful the loss, no matter how persistent the sadness,  we are surrounded by Love.
But All Saints’ Day isn’t just about the death of our loved ones. It’s about comfort in the midst of all loss. Take a good look at our reading from Revelation today and be encouraged by the words:
"These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; …
 They will hunger no more, and thirst no more;
the sun will not strike them,
nor any scorching heat;
for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of the water of life,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."
All of us here today have lost things---jobs, relationships, health, hope, faith, even the church we remember…and we grieve these losses and it is while in the midst of that grief when we can feel the most alone. Today is the day that we remember we’re never alone .
Consider this sacred space—- can you feel them…all those people who loved this place. All those people who sat in these same pews— those who built this parish, those who held the hope for what this parish could mean to the surrounding community—-their presence lingers and on this great feast day may we all find comfort and strength in all that they did, all they accomplished, all they endured.
Comfort and strength.
I won’t lie to you. We need all the comfort and strength we can get.
Why?
Because the fact of the matter is this---the message we have for the world, the message so beautifully put in our reading from Matthew this morning is a message that was counter-cultural then and is, sadly, countercultural now.
The different and the outcast, the disabled and the ill, the young and the old, the immigrant and refugee are still reviled.
And our job is to push this world into more inclusion, more tolerance and more love.
That has always been our job and I fear it will continue to be our job for generations to come.
But, and this is where we really need courage and creativity, the way we do this job, the way we spread this message, needs updating. I’m not sure how that will look, but I know it won’t look like this---we owe it to our forebears, we owe it to our children, we owe it to our God to figure out how to be who we are in this 21st century world with limited resources, an aging congregation and a world that doesn’t want to hear our message of love for everyone, always.
Sounds like a tall order, doesn’t it?
It is.
You, Trinity Hamburg and St Paul’s Springville are on the cusp of the new. Next week Fr. Doc Whitaker will join you as an interim. He will challenge you, he will irritate you, he will inspire you, he will love you. At times it may feel like too big of a task, to tough of a challenge….
but, with this immense cloud of witnesses surrounding you, you can do this—it will require breaking out of your comfort zone, it will require doing some things---perhaps many things---differently, it will take courage. It will take hope. It will take flexibility. It will take love. It will take All the Saints, wiping your tears and guiding you to wherever it is God calls you to go. (For Springville: I for one will be cheering you on, every step of the way.) (For Trinity Hamburg: it has been an honor to walk with you these past 15 months. I won't be with you on a regular basis anymore, but know you will remain in my heart and in my prayers as you move into your next phase.)

Amen

Proper 21 A Trinity, Hamburg, St. Paul's Springville "Living Yes"

+Saying Yes while Living No. That’s how Biblical scholar Fred Craddock characterizes the parable at the end of today’s gospel—the Parable of the Two Sons.
A man had two sons---he asks them both to go work in the vineyard. The first says, “sure Dad, I’ll head right over,” and then doesn’t go at all. The second says, “no way, Pops, I’ve got better things to do,” but then has a change of heart and goes to the vineyard to work. The first son said yes and lived no, the second son said no, but lived yes.
So, just why did this story infuriate the temple authorities?
Well, maybe they saw way too much of themselves in the first son and not nearly enough in the second.
You see, even though Jesus tells this story in response to his authority being questioned, he’s really telling it to call the temple authorities out on their hypocrisy and corruption.
  Jesus turns the tables on their so-called righteous indignation by questioning their motives:
• Are they protecting “the faith,” or are they protecting their status?
• Are they protecting the honor of the temple, or are they protecting their role of prestige within the temple?
• Are they living their faith or are they just talking about their faith?
• Are they living a life of yes, or are they saying yes, and living no?
Jesus convicts them with his words and, if we’re honest, he convicts us, too.
But before we shut our ears and close our hearts to this “hitting close to home message,” hear me out.
     We readily point fingers at the hypocrisy of others---religious leaders, politicians, celebrities, sport heroes,  our bosses and our neighbors who say yes while most definitely living no. That’s easy.
What’s not so easy----and a whole lot more uncomfortable---is to list all the ways we say yes, but live no. But to simply beat ourselves up and say how bad it is that we say yes and live no far more often than we should is, to me, a cop-out. So often we say “yes we stink, we should do better blah blah blah” and then just go on living life as we have—that’s just another way to say yes and live no!!!! It’s taking the easy way out.
And you know what? I don’t want to take the easy way out, I’d rather take the tough way in.
You see it’s the defeatist attitude of beating ourselves up by admitting that we say yes and live no more often than not that keeps us mired in our shame…and that shame keeps far too many of us stuck looking from the outside in, assuming that our weakenesses, our sins, our mistakes keep us away from the fullness of God’s love, God’s mercy and God’s grace.
And that, my friends, is BULL.
Too many of us think that because we’ve had times in our life where we’ve said yes, but lived no—that we aren’t welcome, that there’s no room for us at the table of our Lord-- that “true believers” are those who have always, or at least most of the time, said yes and lived yes. That the only way to take a seat in the kingdom of God, in the fellowship of Christ, in a pew at Trinity (St Paul’s), is to clean up our acts, get all spiffy and bright and “perfect” BEFORE coming to church.
That’s completely backwards!
Why do we feel the need to pull ourselves together BEFORE showing up in a place designed to accept our brokenness, to heal our hurts, to forgive, heal, and renew?
It’s like what my mother always did before a cleaning lady came---she cleaned!!!  
                                      It’s nuts!
We’re way too hard on ourselves, assuming that the faith of “true believers” is unshakeable… unwavering.
Thinking that if we say we believe in God, we can’t ever question God.
Thinking that if we say we “love everyone, always no exceptions” that we can’t ever dislike or disagree with another.
Thinking that we can’t volunteer to help out on the altar or in the choir or in Sunday School or on the vestry because we don’t know enough or aren’t faithful enough or aren’t good enough.
The temple authorities don’t like that Jesus eats with prostitutes and tax collectors. The temple authorities want everything to look nice and tidy and bright; they’re way more interested in how things look,  rather than how things really are.
The kingdom of God here on earth, isn’t nice and tidy and bright, the kingdom of God is full of people like you and me, people who try our best but sometimes fail, people like you and me who sometimes say no, but then find a way to live yes, people like us who make mistakes but get up and try again.
Living into the yes isn’t a place of perfect people, it’s a place of perfect grace.
So perhaps we’ve all “said yes and lived no” more than we want to admit. The good news is, God doesn’t care about the mistakes we’ve made, nearly as much as God cares about the progress we’re making.
Like the parent in today’s parable, God’s far more interested in what we’re doing and how we’re living, rather than what we’re saying and how we look, because God isn’t keeping score, God is cheering us on.+