Call and Response: Sprouting God’s Dream for Us. Proper 6 Yr B June 17, 2012

The Parable of the Mustard Seed gives most of us a really warm and fuzzy feeling inside. We feel good knowing that even if our faith is TEENY, it’s enough.
“Phew”…..no heavy lifting, our puny faith will carry the day. But, while it’s true that even the smallest morsel of faith can lead to incredible things, the point of this parable is easily lost on a non-farming culture. You see, the mustard plant, in the ancient world, was viewed as an invasive, out of control, undesirable WEED. (this perspective gained from David Lose’s column at working preacher.org accessed June 14, 2012)  Those itsy bitsy seeds would blow everywhere, infiltrating carefully tilled fields and spreading the mustard plant all over, upsetting the carefully laid out plans of the farmer. Nothing warm and fuzzy there.
In other words, Jesus’ parable, to the ears of his followers in the 1st century did EXACTLY what a parable is supposed to do: make us think of things in a totally new strange and uncomfortable way. This is why Jesus used parables so often—because the truth of living a faithful life, the truth of working to bring the Kingdom of God to fruition here on earth is risky, uncomfortable and upsetting. As Biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan tells us,
The point, in other words, is not just that the mustard plant starts as a proverbially small seed and grows into a shrub of three or four feet, or even higher, it is that it tends to take over where it is not wanted, that it tends to get out of control…   (The Historical Jesus, pp. 278-279 as accessed through workingpreacher.org on 6.14.12)
The kingdom Jesus proclaims isn’t something we can control—it is something that, once sprouted in a community, takes over, upsets and transforms.  It isn’t, as pastor David Lose tells us, something we should want if we’re even slightly satisfied with the way things are. Because the kingdom of Jesus will change EVERYTHING, not just those things we happen to find distasteful and unwanted. The kingdom Jesus speaks of comes to upset the very fabric of this world, the very kingdoms that rule our daily lives. The kingdoms of a “me first” existence. The kingdoms of big business getting bigger on the backs of the underprivileged and the poor. The kingdoms of a city where a high school graduation rate of 53% is something to celebrate. Kingdoms where royalty is made up of supermodels, athletes and reality t.v. stars instead of teachers, parents and prophets.
The good news is that I know most all of us here today are NOT SATISFIED with the way things are, that we can imagine something more than the ruling kingdoms of this world, that we can imagine a world where the humble are exalted, the hungry are fed, the naked are clothed, the illiterate read, the unemployed work , the fearful are encouraged, the lonely embraced and the lost are found.
I know that we’re a people of hope and a people of action who understand that the mustard seed faith Jesus speaks of has its roots in hope. I also know that this hope isn’t just pie in the sky platitudes for us. I know that the hope found in faith prods and pokes us into taking action. Because once that seed sprouts and those roots take hold our faith, just like the mustard plant, spreads, infiltrates, meanders and edges in. Once our faith sprouts, once the roots of our faith take hold, this faith of ours stops being a noun and starts being a verb.
Which is just what God intends. Just like a planted seed needs sunlight and water to take hold and grow, God takes initiative, plants the seed, but it is our response which helps those Divine Dreams come to life here on earth. And once those dreams are realized, new dreams sprout and grow, and spread. It just keeps going! God has a vision and through God’s call and our response, amazing things happen: a shepherd boy is chosen as king, a mustard seed grows into an immense plant, and a small child from Nazareth grows into the Christ. (Bruce Epperly, Text this Week for Proper6 Yr B)


God’s dreams and our response vary. For God is not “ a homogenous force, evenly distributing inspiration and revelation across the universe.” (Epperly ibid)  Sometimes the seed of faith sprouts into something fierce and intrusive, propelling us into loud and brash acts of faith much like the mustard seed blooms into an uninvited weed spreading all over, taking on a life of it’s own. We’ve seen that with the civil rights actions of the 1960’s-- the race riots, the anti war demonstrations and the uprising at Stonewall. More recently we saw it in Egypt and in Libya and currently it seems to be brewing in Syria. But more often, the seed of faith, planted in us by God through Jesus Christ, sprouts in quieter, more subtle ways…..the point is there’s no telling how and when and where the sprouting will happen. The important thing is that we remain open to it. Because, when we’re open to it, receptive to it, Grace happens. God’s vision for the world is realized through this grace and it, like the mustard seed shows up in all sorts of  places, growing and spreading and at times upsetting the status quo. Grace is when possibilities appear to emerge from nowhere and we, in response, make something happen.
(Epperly ibid).
God calls and we respond…that’s what it’s all about.
People are hungry? We’ll establish a food pantry.
Kids don’t read because they have no books of their own? We give them a book.
Pets can’t be kept because their people can’t afford to feed them? We give them pet food.
A lost soul wanders in among us looking for solace and hope? We great them with a smile, a pat on the back and an invitation to come back anytime.
A small gesture can sprout hope and then the roots become established and amazing, unexpected, uncontrollable things  happen. For the Kingdom of God is amazing, it’s unexpected and it’s uncontrollable, upsetting the best laid plans of you and me. Thanks be to God.

You can go home again...to God. Pentecost 2, Proper 5 Yr B June 10, 2012

I consider myself a native Chicagoan but I’m also a proud Buffalonian. I’ve lived here for 11 years and have no trouble referring to Buffalo as “home.” (even though the lake remains on the wrong side!) Yet, until about 3 or 4 years ago, I was decidedly still an “outsider.” We Western New Yorkers are very protective of our region-- we don’t let just anyone in….even after 7 or 8 years….
It’s that way lots of places----no matter how much you fall in love with a city, a town, a village--for a period of time you’re considered an outsider. A similar thing can happen when we go home again, to our hometown.
I grew up in a small village outside of Chicago. We lived right in the center of town and were so connected with the community that when my oldest sister was married she and my brother in law stopped at the local grocery store between the wedding and the reception to say hi…. the owners of the grocery store were like a part of our family. Our extended family that included neighbors, our church and the local merchants!
But, now that I haven’t lived there for many years, I don’t really fit in. There’s a whole new generation (well a couple of generations since I lived there) of people who are integral members of this small community. Unless there’s a real old timer around, when I walk into the hardware store (sadly the grocery store and the drug store are long gone) people look at me with that “you’re not from around here are you? “ stare.  It doesn’t take too long away before you move from being an insider to being on the outs.
Jesus had such an experience when he returned to Nazareth after what was a whirlwind first few months of ministry. He had gained quite a following and was saying and doing things that, frankly, a good kid from Nazareth, the child of Joseph and Mary wasn’t supposed to do. Back home folks barely recognized this charismatic leader who was ticking off the temple authorities and the scribes left and right. As if that wasn’t disturbing enough he was also performing exorcisms. Exorcisms! And then, probably most shocking of all, he denies his own family—his mother, his brothers and his sisters.
Jesus had left home and came back acting at best like a jerk and at worst, like a possessed lunatic. It’s a tough scene to watch, a difficult Gospel reading to hear.  (and, by the way, one many preachers choose to ignore, focusing instead on the reading from Samuel about the people longing for a King or the Corinthians reading about the Spirit)
But before we freak out, let’s dig a little deeper and remember that what Jesus seems to say is not always what Jesus means.
When he appears to reject his family what Jesus is really doing is proclaiming that there’s something greater than family something greater than all the human structures we’ve erected to order our world….something greater than society, something greater than government, something even greater than the love we have for our mother, our father, our sisters, our brothers, our wives, husbands,  partners and children. He’s speaking, of course, of the Source of all Love: God. Before we were the child of our parents, before we were the spouse of our partner, before we were the parent of our children we belonged to God. Jesus is saying, all of these structures—be they family as mentioned in the Gospel or governmental as mentioned in Samuel, they mean nothing if before these things, we don’t acknowledge, we don’t remember and we don’t proclaim ourselves beloved children of God.
This is wonderfully illustrated by the tradition of the Hapsburg dynasty in Austria ---Remember the Hapsburgs? For more than 600 years they ruled much of Europe. In 1916 Emperor Franz-Josef I of Austria, a member of the Hapsburg line,  died. A procession of dignitaries and elegantly dressed royal mourners escorted the coffin, which was draped in black and gold silk. A military band played somber funeral music as the torch-lit procession made its way down winding narrow stairs into the catacombs beneath the Capuchin Monastery in Vienna
At the bottom of the stairs were great iron doors leading to the Hapsburg family crypt. Behind the door was the Cardinal-Archbishop of Vienna.
The Commanding officer rapped on the door and cried out. “Open!”
The Archbishop replied, “Who goes there?”
“We bear the remains of his Imperial and Apostolic Majesty, Franz-Josef I, by the grace of God Emperor of Austria, King of Hungary, Defender of the Faith, Prince of Bohemia-Moravia, Grand-Duke of Lombardy . . . .” And so it went, through the entire list of his 37 titles.
“We know him not, “ the Cardinal said, “Who goes there?”
The officer spoke again, using the informal title, “We bear the remains of Emperor Franz-Josef I of the Hapsburg line.”
“We know him not,” the cardinal said again. “Who goes there?”
This time the officer replied, “We bear the body of Franz-Josef, our brother, a sinner like all of us.” At that the doors swung open and Franz-Josef was welcomed home.(story taken from The Lectionary Lab: http:lectionarylab.blogspot.com)  
We move around a lot in our world—I read someplace that the average American will move 12 times in their lifetime. Roots are hard to maintain in such a transient culture. Each time we move, we establish new friendships, we lay down new roots….but at the end of the day… whether our relationship with the family we grew up with, the family we married into or the family we raised ourselves is still solid and familiar, we need, we long for, roots that attach us wherever it is we find ourselves. And what Jesus offers us in today’s Gospel, and what the Cardinal Archbishop of Vienna so boldly demands of royalty and peasantry alike, is a connection, a family tree, a hometown we can always count on, a place we’ll always be welcomed, a place we always belong. You see, the good news in today’s readings is that as long as we maintain that primary relationship with our loving Creator God as experienced through the Holy and Undivided Trinity, we are never ever alone. For this is the family from which all other families spring.  As long as we keep that relationship vital and healthy, then we’ll always be on the inside, we’ll always be a “part of.” Because, “whoever else [we] may be, whatever other relationships [we] may have, there is one title and one relationship that can never be taken away from [us]; [we] are always [children] of God, born out of the waters of baptism and sealed with the Holy Spirit forever. “
Amen.

Miracle and Mystery in the Three in One and One in Three

+Every Sunday, as the server brings the bowl over to me and I symbolically wash my hands, I utter a simple prayer: “Gracious God, cleanse me from all iniquity and make me worthy to enter Your mystery.” I use this prayer as a way to ready myself for what will happen at this altar because, truth be told, I have NO IDEA what happens at this altar. But not being able to explain it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Not fully understanding doesn’t mean nothing is happening. It just means that some things can’t be explained as much as they must be experienced.
A major— I am not sure I can explain it, but I know it is real, I know it means something to me, I just don’t understand it---concept in Christianity is the Trinity: The one in Three and Three in One.
The bottom line is, none of us fully understand it. We may well have some comprehension of it---we believe in One God who is present to us in three distinct, yet linked ways: God as Father/Mother/Creator, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit---but we can’t really understand it because to understand it means that we fully grasp it in all of it’s nuance. We can’t do that. Our comprehension of the Trinity requires a leap of faith, a leap into a mystery, and an acceptance that we won’t know what this really means until the last day. Until then, we’re grasping at straws whenever we try to come up with a hard and fast definition.
So in no way am I going to try and make the Holy and Undivided Trinity understandable to you, Understanding is a personal thing which comes to each of us in different ways and at different times. [a process so well exemplified in Nicodemus, the main character in today’s Gospel. Nicodemus appears several times in John’s Gospel, each time, gaining a bit more understanding, a little more insight into just who this Jesus is and how this Jesus is God. It was, for Nicodemus, a process.
It is for all of us a dynamic process, constantly changing, evolving, moving. As a matter of fact---the dynamic nature of learning, of understanding--is an excellent way to describe the Trinity.  For “dynamic” is a key piece of the interrelatedness between our Creator Father/Mother God our Redeeming Son God and our Sustaining Advocate Holy Spirit God---these three persons of the Trinity are in constant movement toward one another and towards us.
Now let’s get one thing clear, we have one God. Period. When we say, there are three persons in One God, what we mean is that there are three aspects, three distinct ways the Almighty is in relationship with us—the more authoritative, parental God who was and is the Creator of all things, the accessible fully human and fully divine God—the Son who felt all the same things we feel and was capable of all the same things as us and finally, the advocate, the Holy Spirit given to us on Pentecost; that unseen God who acts in and through other people in our lives and is that still small voice deep within us. But these three distinct characteristics of God are just that--- characteristics of a whole—they are not separate. They are “part of.”
Throughout the generations, people have fought over the Doctrine of the Trinity---I’ve mentioned before that St Nicholas was expelled from the Council of Nicea because he became so irate over the efforts to explain, in words, just what we mean by the Holy and Undivided Trinity, one God, that he actually punched another attendee. Others have made valiant efforts to explain the Trinity using visual aids:
St. Patrick used the three leaves of a Shamrock—each leaf is distinct but is not separate from the whole of the clover.
Icons show the Trinity as a swirling dance of interconnected parts—always attached, but each moving in it’s own way. Almost all expository attempts at describing the Trinity fall short because at its heart, the essence of the Trinity is relationship. And describing the essence of a relationship is like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree…it just doesn’t work.
Think of your own relationships---the most precious ones you have—how would you describe them? Can you find the words? Could you diagram it? You could get close, but it would still be lacking.  That’s my point---to describe the Holy and Undivided Trinity just doesn’t do it justice, because it’s a relationship and relationships are hard to explain.
God is relationship.
Retired Lutheran Pastor Richard Lischer shared this interpretation of the Trinity he discovered while contemplating a stained glass window depiction of the Trinity: “The fairly typical Trinitarian design of three interconnecting triangles reminded me of an aerial photograph taken of our small farming community. Besides the straight and orderly rows of crops in the fields, another distinct pattern emerged: well-worn paths criss-crossing from one farmhouse to another. These paths, worn into the ground by generations of neighbors visiting and helping out in times of need, linked the town, they knit the community together.” Lischer’s description of the interconnectedness represented in those paths explains my experience of the Trinity.
God grooves paths in our lives, coming to us at different times and in different forms to address a variety of needs.
God, in three persons, Blessed Trinity, reaches out to us as a strong parental type when we feel small and childlike. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity reaches out to us as a forgiving friend in times of loneliness and confusion. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity reaches out to us as a sustaining force of inexplicable peace when we are bereft and lost, angry and bitter, hopeless and helpless. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity, longs to be a palpable presence in our lives, so God, in God’s infinite wisdom, walks a number of paths to reach us.
Although difficult to explain, the formula of the Trinity is simple
God Loves Us.
God Wants to be With Us
Through the miracle and mystery of God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity, God’s Love is always with us.
And that, although almost impossible to explain, is so utterly real.
Amen.

Honor the Mothers of our Faith and our Lives with Love

+Our readings this Easter are clear: Love is the point. Loving God, Loving one another, Loving our Neighbor, Loving the stranger, Loving the outcast, Loving ourselves. Love is the key.  And as one commentator puts it:  Love isn’t easy. And clearly God knows this, why else would we get these messages of Love over and over and over again?
Our readings from the Gospel of John, all Easter, have been excerpted from Jesus’ “Farewell Discourse,” the final teaching series before his death. Clearly, at least from John’s perspective, these teachings of Jesus are the most important the fabric of our faith.
And the message? The message is clear: Love.
But, as I said, love can be very difficult. Nothing hurts as much as when something bad happens to one we love.
No loss is as painful as the loss of Love.
Once we start loving, we begin building up a huge amount of potential hurt. It’s the price of love.
Jesus knew this. He knew that the Love of His creator, of God was leading him to the cross. Jesus knew that it was love that would carry his followers through the dark days ahead. But he also knew that that same love, the same love God had for Jesus , that Jesus has for us, that those who love Jesus have for him,  is the same love that can cause the lover tremendous, unspeakable and intense pain.
Yes, Love hurts, love is hard, yet Love is the source of everything. Without Love we are NOTHING.
 To quote St Paul:
If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13)
So our readings this Eastertide focus on this love. And then we come upon Mother’s Day. Now how can, how do our readings these great fifty days connect to an observance originally designed as a radical day of protest against the horrors of war, but has morphed into a Hallmark guided day of “on demand” expressions of love attached to an almost impossible icon of motherhood designed by, I dare say, men.
But despite the modern consumerism and fantasy attached to the 21st century version of mother’s day, I think having this day fall within Eastertide and our incessant messages of Love as found in the scripture readings these 7 weeks makes sense. For that initial focus of the first mother’s day established by Julia Ward Howe  in the 19th century jives nicely with this idea of Love being hard, but  in the end so very worth it.
For the initial Mother’s Day was all about bringing women together –together  to stop the madness of war. Mother’s Day was about alternative conflict resolution, it was about Peace.
But over the years it has changed, evolved into what it is today: a day to honor our mothers with cards, candy flowers and brunch.
But, to coin an old phrase, just who are our mothers? For many people the woman who gave birth to them is not their mother, for others of us, not only is the woman who birthed us our mother, but so are older sisters, aunts, neighbors, friends. But, I think for all of us, one thing is certain: there have been women in our lives who have nurtured us, protected us, encouraged us, loved us. It is those women we honor today….for any woman who has taught us, any woman who has loved us, any woman who has PUT UP WITH US, is due honor.
If you look at some of writings about the history of Mother’s Day you’ll find great debate on the use of the apostrophe---should it be Mother’s Day, (apostrophe s)  or Mothers’ Day (s apostrophe). Is this a day about one woman who is viewed as a mother in one particular family unit, that would be the singular possessive, the apostrophe s,  or is it about all the mothers of our lives, of our world, the s apostrophe, the plural possessive?
And it is in this somewhat obscure debate that, I think, we get the connection between Mother’s Day and what Jesus is trying to get through to us.
You see, Love is  what allows us to do the unthinkable. Love is what keeps us going. Love for others, as most brilliantly exemplified in a mother’s love for her child is what spreads the Gospel, it’s what makes the Body of Christ tick. And being Loved, having those people in our own lives, those people who will stand behind us, no matter what, is what fuels us, strengthens us, inspires us to risk loving others. It’s the ultimate circle of life: We are given the very gift of our life out of the love of others and then, whether we are raised by a loving mother or whether we find that motherly love in others, we grow and mature through the nurturing of others. And then through this love and care of others we are then able to nurture and love still others. Whether it be our own children or children of other parents, we, by virtue of allowing love to seep into our hearts, become Loving People, and loving people when gathered together like us here become the flesh and blood representatives of the source of all Love, GOD in the world.
Jesus commands us to love one another, not because Jesus thinks without this commandment we won’t fall in love with our children, our spouse, our siblings, our friends. No Jesus commands us to love one another so that we’ll stay in love, so that we’ll allow Love to be the singular focus of our life---for when we let Love slip from the number one focus of our life then we as a civilization, as a people, as a church, as a family devolve into fear, bitterness, hate and loss. The original Mothers’ Day was designed to point out the absurdity of most war, the original mothers’ day was created to remind each and every one of us that nothing, nothing matters in this world if we do not have love.
So on this day to honor mothers I encourage us all to do what Jesus has commanded us to do: honor Love. +

We Abide in One Another

God is love and those who abide in Love, abide in God. Amen.

Several years ago, when I was in seminary, I made an amazing discovery: I had become my mother.
I’m sure you’ve had similar experiences of realizing you’ve become your mother, your father, an older sibling etc. I know I have. But in this particular instance I had become my mother.
You see, when I was a teenager my mother was in graduate school. Every Saturday she sat in the living room, on the couch, with the dogs at her feet. Classical music was playing on the Hi Fi (as it was known in those days). Books surrounded her as she read, highlighted, wrote and re-wrote. Periodically one of us would wander in with an “onlymomcananswer” question and she would look up, gazing over the top of her glasses, setting us straight. Back on that day of my: “I have become my mother revelation” I was in an easy chair, classical music playing on the iPod, a dog at my feet, books, paper and the computer surrounding me. A questioning housemate approached, I looked up, gazing over the top of my glasses and it was done: I was my mother.
It’s not just Mom, at times I find myself becoming my father, my sister, my grandmother. I act like them because I learned from them. They’ve guided me.
The Ethiopian Eunuch, in today’s reading from Acts, says to Philip, regarding his understanding of scripture: “How can I, unless someone guides me?” Exactly. We learn by watching others, listening to others, working with others. Our families, friends, mentors---they all GUIDE US. TEACH US. CORRECT US. HELP US.
Because they love us. Because they abide in us and we abide in them.
Abide.
It’s a big word in today’s readings. Abide:
To wait for
To endure without yielding
To bear patiently
Jesus says: Abide in me as I abide in you. In other words bear me patiently as I bear you patiently.
In today’s Epistle,  John says: “Beloved, since God loved us so much we ought to love one another…if we love one another God lives in us and [God’s] love is perfected in us.” (1John 4:11,13)
This is how it works:
By loving Jesus Christ within community, as we do here, we give God’s love a place to take root and grow. God’s love abides in us when we love one another. As new members join our community they learn about God’s love by witnessing our love for one another.
Abiding must have love as its foundation, that’s clear. To abide, to endure, one must have Love.
Back to mothers for a moment. Think how much mothers endure. First childbirth. Then colic. Then teething. Then the terrible two’s. Then those teenage years! Then the leaving home. Then the coming back home and not leaving fast enough…and on and on.
Abiding can be hard.  You mothers here---how often have you bit your tongue? Enduring in silence, offering a shoulder to cry on without saying: “I told you so.” Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, friends all do this enduring, this abiding, because they love us and want us to grow, to flourish, to be fabulous.
So does God.


Abiding takes endurance. God endures a lot with us: We deny, we forget, we ignore God.
But this abiding thing is a two way street. God endures us but we must endure God. C’mon, admit it, there are times when we really wonder what God is doing.  Disaster, famine, war. The death of a child, the tragic loss of love. Where’s God in that?
Theologian Walter Wink addressed this in an article he wrote almost 20 years ago for the Christian Century magazine entitled: “Abiding—Even Under the Knife.”  Using today’s Gospel as his text he takes the reader through years of his evolving interpretation of this story of God as the vine tender, Jesus as the vine, and us as the branches.  Wink chronicles his long history with this story, from the somewhat narcissistic “it’s all about me” interpretation of his youth to a more universal interpretation of his older years. In this latter interpretation Wink confronts the issue of pruning—you know, that part of the text that says if you don’t bear fruit you get pruned. Pruning is, in effect, clipping off dead or dying wood to promote new, vibrant growth. We do it to our plants. Our hair. We prune growing things so the growth will be fuller, richer: more lush. Walter Wink reminds us: we are growing things as well. As Christians we strive to grow more fully into the Body of Christ. For some of us (dare I say, most of us) that growth becomes stunted, stagnant and stale. And then, before we know it—before we know what is happening—here comes God, pruning shears in hand. Objectively (that is when it isn’t me God’s aiming at) we know this is a good thing. It’s good for the prunee. Healthy. You know, like lima beans and castor oil. Who knew that good could feel so bad? Growth experiences are like that. To abide with God requires an occasional pruning….
As Wink says, “How has the intrepid vine-dresser pruned you lately?” Are you grateful for it? If you are it probably happened a while ago. Because when the pruning is fresh we rarely feel gratitude. Fear, anger, bitterness and pain, yes, Gratitude? Not so much. Take a moment to think of those times you’ve been pruned. The times when it hurt a lot and you were scared.  Somehow you held on, somehow you endured. You stayed the course. Because you weren’t alone. You had company. You had parents and grandparents, mentors and guides, supervisors and co-workers, fellow parishioners, priests and deacons---you had guides, you had companions along the way and, above all else you had God, you had Jesus. For, as Jesus said, “as the Father loved me, so I have loved you. Abide in my love.”
The turnaround time---the pain of pruning evolving into gratitude-- varies. The disciples needed to feel betrayal and bitterness and doubt before they could embrace the miracle of the Resurrection. It took some time. It took patience on the part of God, it takes endurance on the part of us, but if we wait long enough, if we allow ourselves to be guided by those who have gone before, if we settle into and abide in God’s love, we’ll find our path paved with gratitude, our future infused with hope, pruning shears and all.

Luke: We are Your Good Shepherd

Circle me, Lord:
Keep protection near
And danger afar.
Circle me, Lord:
Keep hope within.
Keep doubt without.
Circle me, Lord:
Keep light near
And darkness afar.
Circle me, Lord:
Keep peace within.
Keep evil out.
Amen.
I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
Luke: We are the Church of The Good Shepherd and we will lay down our lives for you. For we are the Body of Christ and it is our joy to bring you fully into this Body today.
Welcome, welcome to the household of God, welcome to our family. We will be there for you, and your parents, no matter what.  To use the vernacular—Ken, Jessica, Luke---we’ve your back.

In the 1st century , in the Holy Land…as a matter of fact, in the 21st century in the Holy Land… shepherds physically lie down to serve as the gate to a sheep fold,  to protect their herd.
Jesus tells us, in today’s Gospel, that he will do the same, that he will lay down his life for us, his sheep. And of course he did—Jesus is our  Good Shepherd. And throughout his life, his actions as that Good Shepherd give us an example, a template, a formula for how we are to live in community.
A model beautifully expressed  in today’s epistle from the first letter of John:
 “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another…Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” In this quotation John is describing Community—and it’s the community of the Good Shepherd, both literally and figuratively, we have here.
Yes Luke, we have your back. No matter where you go, no matter what life brings you, we’ll always be here, you can count on us. For by signing the baptismal certificate, by saying, as you all will in a few moments, “we will”—we’re doing more than being polite church members doing what your Rector asks you to do….we’re committing ourselves, individually and collectively, to Luke and Ken and Jessica. We are saying: We Will Help. We will be there. Whenever Luke stumbles, whenever he falls. Whenever Jessica or Ken stumble, whenever they fall: we will be there for them. Because that’s what communities of faith do, that’s what the members of Christ’s body do: they watch out for, care for, adore, cherish and protect one another. Just like the Good Shepherd.
So although this is a GREAT day—I mean who doesn’t love a baptism---it’s a sobering day as well. For we are making a solemn vow. A solemn vow to this precious little boy and reinforcing the one we have already made to each other—we are vowing to be faithful to him and to each other, come what may.
It is a vow we make and a vow we reinforce all the time…just as I said last week….we make and reinforce this vow each and every time we exchange the Peace, each and every time we share communion. The Peace and Communion reinforce this vow but a baptism?----Baptism is the vow itself.
Baptism is the root of our faith. Baptism is the bond which connects us all---across socio economic, racial and gender lines; across political, parish, diocesan and  denominational boundaries--we are joined through the fundamental statement of our faith: The Baptismal Covenant. There maybe a phrase here and there that we would re-word, there might even be moments of time when we don’t believe parts of it, but the Baptismal Covenant is our guidebook. The church can function without Bishops, without Priests, without Deacons. The church can function without provinces, dioceses and deaneries. The church can function without a building to call it’s own. The church can do without a lot. But the church absolutely positively must have two things: people and principles.
The Baptismal Covenant lays out our principles and then the action of baptism and all that comes after baptism is the work of the people. The work of being the Body of Christ in the world. The work of being there for one another, strengthening our resolve and our resources so when we go out into the world we are able to do so knowing that there is a cadre of people behind us, supporting us, encouraging us. Loving us.
There’s a wonderful Celtic Prayer, I used it at the beginning of this sermon:
Circle me, Lord:
Keep protection near
And danger afar.
Circle me, Lord:
Keep hope within.
Keep doubt without.
Circle me, Lord:
Keep light near
And darkness afar.
Circle me, Lord:
Keep peace within.
Keep evil out.
I used it because it’s a great description of just what a good and competent shepherd does for his or her sheep: a Good and Competent Shepherd keeps hope, light and peace within the sheepfold.  And it is a great description of Jesus, as The Good Shepherd. It’s also a good description of what the Body of Christ does for all of us, what we do for each other, what we are committing to do for Luke, all the days of his life.
Luke,  no matter where you go, no matter how far you stray, there is a community of people, gathering at the corner of Jewett and Summit each and every week keeping hope alive and doubt at bay, working to keep the darkness waning and the Light of Love turned on. Praying for you, praying that Peace will always and forever, be in your heart. For we are the Good Shepherd in this world and you, our precious Luke? You’re our newest sheep. +

One Bread, One Body, One Easter Message

When in training to become a psychotherapist, the instructors assured us not to worry about missing a client’s main issue, because no matter how often we missed the point, the client was sure to steer the conversation back to their main issue—to the point.
I think we can apply this theory to our Gospel writers as well—there is an Easter message, and the gospels are going to keep reminding us of this, throughout all of these Great 50 Days .
Christ Rose from The Dead. This resurrection serves as the ultimate proof of what is possible through God.
And each week we remember his death and resurrection through the Holy Meal—through the breaking of the bread. This is important because we need to be reminded and we need to be nourished. Reminded that all things are possible through God and strengthened, strengthened to do the work, of being Christ’s body in the world today. —
So this Easter point, this Easter message begins with the Resurrection. With Mary Magdalene, Peter and John on Easter morning, Thomas and the rest last week, Cleopas and his companion on the Road to Emmaus, the story which occurs just before this weeks Gospel reading about Jesus sharing some fish with his friends back in Jerusalem one point is clear: the fact of the Resurrection was and is UNBELIEVABLE. And absolutely true. Unbelievable and true: yes this resurrection thing is awfully difficult to wrap our heads around, but we must try. As I reminded you last week, there is NOTHING WRONG WITH DOUBT, there’s nothing wrong with questioning or wondering. But, at the end of the day, each and every Christian needs to make some type of uneasy peace with the fact of the Resurrection. In modern lexicon we call this living with the tension. Jesus did indeed rise from the dead….but he didn’t do this to be some kind of carnival side show. Jesus Christ rose from the dead to prove the unprovable. He appeared to his friends to prove that all things are possible through God .To prove that no human inflicted wound, no matter how lethal, can keep us from the love of God. That’s the message within resurrection.
But it doesn’t stop there—it’s clear from what we read in the Gospels that we need to do more with that message of God’s Love as witnessed through the Resurrection than just proclaim it. We can’t just say it. We need to continue to wrestle with it. Wrestle with what this means for us today, for us tomorrow, for us next week…..and beyond. We wrestle with it just like those 1st century disciples did, by coming together in community—right here, every week---gathering around this altar, this table of the Lord to share in the breaking of the bread. For when that bread is broken, when we share this meal, our eyes will open, our hearts will be set afire and our minds will race with possibility, with the desire  to spread this Ultimate Gift of Love to all whom we encounter. This Breaking of the Bread nourishes us to do the work Jesus has given us to do. The work that lies at the core of the Easter message.
This Holy Meal energizes and emboldens us to go out and be the church, to be Christ’s Body in the world. This is the work and it’s what we do Monday through Saturday in our daily lives. And just what is that work? Well it’s the same work as we the disciples did, the same work we hear about in the acts of the apostles: we preach, we heal and we just may do a little rabble rousing here and there.  Now, you may think, I’m no preacher or I can’t heal people. But you see you are and you can.
We preach, we heal and we rabble rouse when we give a smile to a downtrodden person, when we offer a shoulder to a hurting friend or co-worker. We do that when we take a young person under our wing, giving them something they can’t get at hone. We do that by taking stock of our political opinions and actions, our charitable giving and volunteer work and say: there are hurts in this world, that need to be healed, there are wrongs in this world which need to be righted and this is how I’m going to address these things.
This is tough work. And to do it, we must be strong.  Which takes us right back to this altar, to this table, to this meal and to this church. Bu showing up every week, by partaking in the breaking of the bread, by joining in fellowship , we are nourishing one another. Hear me: we don’t just GET nourished, we nourish, we strengthened each other.
There are two distinct points in the service when this nourishment of each other is most evident: The Peace and Communion.
At the Peace we don’t just say “Hi, nice tie,” or, “Hi how’s your sick aunt?” but we look at one another, we shake hands or offer a hug and say “Peace. Peace be With You,” just as our Lord did at each and everyone of His post-resurrection appearances: Peace be with You.” For what this offer of peace means is this: The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding , is yours for the taking. So look—REALLY LOOK at each other and offer this Peace.
The second instance is Communion. Many of you come to communion with your spouse, your partner, your parents, your children, your friend. But you are actually coming to communion—sharing this Holy Meal with everyone here—so as you come up to receive take a good look around: for we are one Bread, One Body. Our weekly celebration is eating together, praying together and then going out into the world sharing the Love that is Jesus Christ.
This is the Easter Miracle, this is the Easter Message: Jesus did indeed rise form the dead. Jesus does offer His peace to us. And Jesus expects us to be so nourished by this miracle, this peace that we are able to vibrantly and boldly carry that message to the world.
[Which brings us back to this work. I say it all the time: Go out and do this work.
But what I fail to make clear, I think, is that this work begins and ends RIGHT HERE. So I ask you to take stock of this community: ask what you can do to further spread the Good News of Christ through the Church of the Good Shepherd. I’ve sent a challenge to the vestry, a challenge they will soon present to you. This challenge is, simply put: to find a place for each and every person here in the nourishment of each other. Whether it’s pastoral care, helping set up and clean up for Sunday’s, reading a lesson, singing in the choir, pulling weeds, balancing check books, assisting in the food pantry, cooking a meal for the community, setting up coffee hour or something else none of us have even thought of, I want all of us here to be able to say to our friends: “You’ll never guess what I get to do at my church.”  What would you like to do? What can you do that we don’t know about? You see, there’s plenty to do here but I don’t want us to be task driven, I want us to be joy driven. In other words, if you’re a dancer, I don’t want you bean counting. And if you’re a bean counter, I don’t want you dancing. So stay tuned, there’s more to come.]
Easter continues, and the message stays the same: we are one bread, one body, one community of faith rejoicing in the Love of our Risen Savior.