+Today’s Gospel depicts a pinnacle moment in the life of Jesus. Today his formal ministry begins in a big audacious way. He walks into the synagogue of his youth, reads a famous excerpt from the Book of Isaiah about the coming of the Messiah and claims that the reading has been fulfilled in their sight. He’s it. Like I said, it’s an audacious, pinnacle moment in the life of Jesus.
And I’m not really going to preach on it….
I’m not going to preach on it because what spoke to me this week is not this Gospel reading, but our reading from Corinthians.
I invite you to journey with me past the life of Christ and into the life of the early church, to a time when these followers of Jesus were trying to figure out how to live the way Jesus taught them, how to spread the good news of Christ to the world, how to make disciples, how to change hearts, change minds, change lives in a new and never before tried way.
Paul and his followers had no guidebook beyond the teachings of Jesus, no blueprint, no roadmap.
Their job was to make disciples of the nations. Their job was to spread the astonishing outlandish, amazing good news of Jesus to all.
And you know what? They had no earthly idea how to do it.
But by being open to the nudgings and nigglings of the Holy Spirit, they found their way.
Together, they found their way.
And this is what speaks so profoundly to me this week.
Together…
By Listening to the Holy Spirit…
They found their way.
I can’t stand here today without thinking about all that we’ve been through, individually and collectively these past few years. We’ve experienced huge loss, we’ve cultivated fresh starts, we’ve worried and wondered, despaired and dreamed, cried and laughed together. I am profoundly grateful to you for walking with me through the many losses I’ve experienced and I am profoundly honored to have walked with you through some of yours.
Together we have gotten through these changes. And together we will go through the changes that are yet to come.
Because it is only by sticking together that we can truly be the Body of Christ.
In St Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth, a church which, by the way, was a mess, Paul is saying—stick together people because the Body of Christ is not something we attach ourselves to, it is something we create, one connection, one relationship, at a time. We are all part of a greater whole.
Paul writes: “in the one Spirit we’re all baptized into [the] one body…indeed the body does not consist of one member but of many.” And everybody, every community, every church, every diocese needs every member...because there are a variety of gifts, a variety of ways God can be worshipped, Christ can be proclaimed and Love for everyone, everywhere, no exceptions, can be expressed.
You, the people of Trinity Hamburg have stayed connected through some very difficult times. Some of you left and came back, others of you have stayed throughout it all, still others of you showed up for the first time in the middle of it.
And here you are. Stronger for the journey, more resilient than you probably ever imagined you could be, more faith-filled than you probably even know that you are.
Which is good, because the journey, my friends, is just beginning.
It’s an exciting time in this parish church, in the two dioceses of WNY and NWPA and in the wider Episcopal Church. We are embarking on a journey not unlike the Church in Corinth. We are doing something very new. We don’t know where it will lead us, we don’t how we will get there and we aren’t even sure it is going to work, but what we do know is that we can only succeed if we do this together. For together, with God, we can do infinitely more than we could ever ask or imagine.
And in so many ways, looking at our angry, hurting and increasingly lost world of today, this new, bold and audacious way of spreading the Good News of Christ has come in the nick of time…for somehow, someway we need get this world back on track.
So maybe I am preaching the gospel this morning!! For when Jesus preached at his home synagogue he was taking the old—the prophet Isaiah---and presenting it in a new way, a fresh way, a different way. I’d like to tell you that everyone was thrilled with this new way and embraced him fully. But that’s not what happened. The people of Nazareth—including his family—lost their minds and drove him out of town, with every intention of killing him.
This journey that we are on-- the one specific to Trinity Hamburg and the Dioceses of WNY and NWPA -and the more general one of spreading the Good News of Christ to all whom we encounter is not going to be smooth nor will it always be easy. BUT if we remember to stick together, if we remember that all of us are needed, it will never ever be lonely! And for that we can be grateful.
So as we move into this season of change, this season of growth, this season of journeying wherever the Holy Spirit leads, my wish for us is this…that we never forget that while there’s only One Body, we, each and every one of us, are vital, precious, beloved members of it. Together we have grown and will grow, together we have learned and will learn and together we have changed and will continue to change.
Just like Jesus did. Just like Paul did. Just like the Church in Corinth did.
May God continue to bless Trinity Church, Hamburg and may God’s Holy Spirit continue to push the Dioceses of WNY and NWPA forward in an audacious and bold new way of proclaiming the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Messiah who is here to stay.
Amen.
Sunday, January 27, 2019
Sunday, January 20, 2019
The Time Is Now--Get Busy Epiphany 2C St Mark's Erie
+I wonder if Jesus’ mother, Mary, was related to my mother. When Mary comes to Jesus saying, “they’re running out of wine---you must do something!” I’m reminded of the many parties my parents hosted when I was young...the biggest worry leading up to those parties was whether or not there was enough food and drink! Now, whenever I have folks over, I’m stressed that there won’t be enough.
This is a fear of scarcity…but that’s not what was going on with Mary. You see, Mary’s always the smartest one in the room, the most intuitive, so when she says to Jesus—“you’ve got to do something, we’re running out of wine,” she wasn’t acting out of fear or face-saving, she just knew that it was time, time for her son to live into his ministry. Time for her son to take the old and turn it into the altogether new.
Jesus doesn’t think it’s his time, but Mary doesn’t really care what he thinks, she knows it’s time and he must act. So he does.
Jesus’ ministry has begun.
But, because this is John’s Gospel, it isn’t as clear as I’m making it sound. This Gospel is full of symbolism. Unlike Matthew, Mark and Luke; John makes no pretense that his Gospel is a straight-forward, historical narrative of the life and ministry of Jesus.
When reading John we must always remember that what’s presented is only part of the story, because with John there’s always more symbolism than our brains can take on the first read through. It’s a little bit like reading William Faulkner or Toni Morrison. Or watching that old TV show, Lost.
A prevailing theme for John is the dawning of a new age. To John, the coming of Jesus as Messiah has changed the world from what it used to be into something altogether new.
This is why John prefers to use the word “signs” instead of “miracles.” The things Jesus did, like turning water into wine, were signs to the faithful that the way we experience God and the way God experiences us is now changed.
What Jesus did was not about an obedient son reluctantly doing what his mother asked; nor was it about Jesus making sure the host of the wedding was not embarrassed by the wine running out, nor was it about making sure those attending the party were able to keep drinking.
What’s really significant in this story is that the water is special water. It’s water that’s been set aside for the Jewish purification rites. It’s there for the people to use for washing. But it wasn’t about being sanitary or comfortable. This washing was a religious ceremony; a ritual cleansing in order to go before the Lord during the wedding feast. In this sign Jesus takes the old- the ritual bath water- and turns it into the new- fresh wine.
Now, it’s important to realize that this isn’t an anti-Semitic reading---Jesus didn’t take “the bad or the wrong” and turn it into the “good and the right!” He didn’t take the useless and turn it into the useful. He took good things from the past and transformed them into other good things for the future.
In this season of beginnings—a new calendar year, the advent of the covenant relationship with the Diocese of WNY-- it’s fitting to ask ourselves: where have we been and where are we going? Or to expand the metaphor of this gospel: What’s our water that Jesus has come to turn into wine? What are the good things from our past that can be changed into good things for our future?
You at St Mark’s have been through your own intentional transformation since 2010, and from that initial rebooting of St Mark’s your community continues to look and consider, to reflect and wonder, to try and sometimes succeed, sometimes not, but always learning more and more about the power of the Holy Spirit as you go along.
While invigorating this can also be tiresome. Sometimes wouldn’t you love to say,
“ok, we’ve explored enough, we’ve tested this and tried that, now we have found the secret and we can sit back, rest on our laurels and stop working so hard. After all, what’s so bad about the old wine---isn’t it true that the older the wine, the better?”
Perhaps. But what John’s teaching us through the Wedding at Cana story is that the second we rely on the what has been, the moment we decide to stop looking at our world through the lens of Christ, searching for the nooks and crannies of our world where the lost and the lonely and the hurting have been cast aside, is the moment that our faith becomes something for the history books instead of something for the evening news.
The new age brought by Jesus the Christ is an ongoing age of transformation and growth and it is on full display right here at St Mark’s, in the Diocese of NWPA and in the Diocese of WNY. We are taking the old wine-skins of business as usual and allowing ourselves to be transformed into something new.
We’re not the people we once were; nor are we the people we will someday become.
We’re in a state of fluidity; we’re water being changed into wine.
We have choices, as individuals and as communities of faith. We can face the future's changes with fear of scarcity and resistance to change; or, we can embrace them with abundant faith and overflowing excitement.
You, the faithful of St Mark’s will be leaders of this charge into the unknown. Through your faithfulness, your courage and your willingness we can all learn what Mary already knew on that wedding day 2000 years ago: the time is now. Get busy.
Amen.
This is a fear of scarcity…but that’s not what was going on with Mary. You see, Mary’s always the smartest one in the room, the most intuitive, so when she says to Jesus—“you’ve got to do something, we’re running out of wine,” she wasn’t acting out of fear or face-saving, she just knew that it was time, time for her son to live into his ministry. Time for her son to take the old and turn it into the altogether new.
Jesus doesn’t think it’s his time, but Mary doesn’t really care what he thinks, she knows it’s time and he must act. So he does.
Jesus’ ministry has begun.
But, because this is John’s Gospel, it isn’t as clear as I’m making it sound. This Gospel is full of symbolism. Unlike Matthew, Mark and Luke; John makes no pretense that his Gospel is a straight-forward, historical narrative of the life and ministry of Jesus.
When reading John we must always remember that what’s presented is only part of the story, because with John there’s always more symbolism than our brains can take on the first read through. It’s a little bit like reading William Faulkner or Toni Morrison. Or watching that old TV show, Lost.
A prevailing theme for John is the dawning of a new age. To John, the coming of Jesus as Messiah has changed the world from what it used to be into something altogether new.
This is why John prefers to use the word “signs” instead of “miracles.” The things Jesus did, like turning water into wine, were signs to the faithful that the way we experience God and the way God experiences us is now changed.
What Jesus did was not about an obedient son reluctantly doing what his mother asked; nor was it about Jesus making sure the host of the wedding was not embarrassed by the wine running out, nor was it about making sure those attending the party were able to keep drinking.
What’s really significant in this story is that the water is special water. It’s water that’s been set aside for the Jewish purification rites. It’s there for the people to use for washing. But it wasn’t about being sanitary or comfortable. This washing was a religious ceremony; a ritual cleansing in order to go before the Lord during the wedding feast. In this sign Jesus takes the old- the ritual bath water- and turns it into the new- fresh wine.
Now, it’s important to realize that this isn’t an anti-Semitic reading---Jesus didn’t take “the bad or the wrong” and turn it into the “good and the right!” He didn’t take the useless and turn it into the useful. He took good things from the past and transformed them into other good things for the future.
In this season of beginnings—a new calendar year, the advent of the covenant relationship with the Diocese of WNY-- it’s fitting to ask ourselves: where have we been and where are we going? Or to expand the metaphor of this gospel: What’s our water that Jesus has come to turn into wine? What are the good things from our past that can be changed into good things for our future?
You at St Mark’s have been through your own intentional transformation since 2010, and from that initial rebooting of St Mark’s your community continues to look and consider, to reflect and wonder, to try and sometimes succeed, sometimes not, but always learning more and more about the power of the Holy Spirit as you go along.
While invigorating this can also be tiresome. Sometimes wouldn’t you love to say,
“ok, we’ve explored enough, we’ve tested this and tried that, now we have found the secret and we can sit back, rest on our laurels and stop working so hard. After all, what’s so bad about the old wine---isn’t it true that the older the wine, the better?”
Perhaps. But what John’s teaching us through the Wedding at Cana story is that the second we rely on the what has been, the moment we decide to stop looking at our world through the lens of Christ, searching for the nooks and crannies of our world where the lost and the lonely and the hurting have been cast aside, is the moment that our faith becomes something for the history books instead of something for the evening news.
The new age brought by Jesus the Christ is an ongoing age of transformation and growth and it is on full display right here at St Mark’s, in the Diocese of NWPA and in the Diocese of WNY. We are taking the old wine-skins of business as usual and allowing ourselves to be transformed into something new.
We’re not the people we once were; nor are we the people we will someday become.
We’re in a state of fluidity; we’re water being changed into wine.
We have choices, as individuals and as communities of faith. We can face the future's changes with fear of scarcity and resistance to change; or, we can embrace them with abundant faith and overflowing excitement.
You, the faithful of St Mark’s will be leaders of this charge into the unknown. Through your faithfulness, your courage and your willingness we can all learn what Mary already knew on that wedding day 2000 years ago: the time is now. Get busy.
Amen.
Sunday, January 13, 2019
Baptism of the Lord January 13, 2019 St Matthias The Sacrament of Baptism: Promises too strong to be broken, too deep to run aground, too light to be darkened, too profound to deny.
Who doesn’t love a baptism? * Who doesn’t love welcoming six people into the household of God?!
Yes they’re dressed up and no doubt there will be a party and a cake and maybe even some presents---but there’s more to love than a party and some cake. For this action---having water poured over their heads in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit; being sealed, marked as Christ’s own forever –this sacrament of Holy Baptism is an outward and visible sign of an inward grace. Grace upon grace upon grace upon grace upon grace. For this outward and visible action is the manifestation of our Creator’s awesome, epic, outlandish, never ending, always with us Love.
And that, my friends, is a reason to celebrate. For from before the moment each of US were formed in the womb we were known, loved and adored by our God. And we still are. This is the wonder of baptism---publicly and boldly proclaiming that we know God “has our backs” that from before we even knew what was happening, we were and we are enveloped in Love.
The prophet Isaiah writes:
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
Because you are precious in my sight…and I love you,
I invite us to sit with these words for a moment.
I created you. I formed you. I redeemed you, I call you by name. You are mine, you are precious in my sight and I love you.
I pray Georgia, Lottie, CeCe ,Hazel, Ophelia and Mabel will never ever forget these words.
I pray they never ever forget that they were formed in love by God to be the fullness of who they are.
I pray they always know that when passing through the rough seas of life that their Lord, their God, will be there. That those waters, no matter how much they churn, no matter how high they rise, will never overtake them, for their Lord, their God, their Creator will be with them, come what may.
I pray they always know that no fire will consume them, no hardship defeat them, no heartache overwhelm them.
I pray that they always know that even when those waters do rise, even when the flames seem far too close, even when the hardship feelstoo hard, too powerful, too….much, even when the heartache cuts deeper than they thought they could bear, when the power of their grief threatens their very peace they will know, deep in their bones, settled wonderfully in their soul, that they are not alone. That they never have been and never will be.
And I hope all of us know this, too.
This is what baptism offers each and every one of us: promises too strong to be broken, too deep to run aground, too light to be darkened, too profound to deny.
In the promises of baptism we are assured of God’s Love, God’s Grace, God’s Hope and God’s Protection. Always. Forever. No exceptions.
Here is the truth of our lives:
There will be pain.
There will be heartache.
There will be grief.
There will be loss.
There will be disappointment
There will be worry.
But there will never be abandonment, there will never be solitude, there will never be anything from which we cannot recover.
For God so loved us----SO LOVED Us that God sent God’s only begotten Son---God’s first beloved of all---to live among us, to die for us and to walk with us through the wonder of the Holy Spirit, everymoment of our lives.
My friends, who doesn’t love a baptism….
for through a baptism…or six….weare reminded of God’s love for us.
We are reminded of God’s commitment to us and we are, I hope, reminded of God’s need, God’s desire, God’s longing for us to return the favor.
For a baptism is not just a bestowing of love, it is an exchange of love, an exchange of commitments. Baptism is when God promises to love us, and we promise to love God.
So, as we commemorate the Baptism of Christ, as we rejoice at the baptism of these 6 wonderful souls, let us never forget that we---each and every one of us—is precious, absolutely precious, in God’s sight.
Who doesn’t love a baptism for in a baptism God calls us God’s beloved and we call God ours.
Who doesn’t love that? Amen.
Monday, December 24, 2018
I Believe in the Extraordinary Within the Ordinary Christmas Eve 2018 St Michael and All Angels, Buffalo
+I believe. Do you?
I believe that Jesus is God in the flesh, born of a peasant girl and her betrothed, Joseph.
I believe that this was an extraordinary birth in otherwise ordinary circumstances.
I believe that God chose to come among us in this way because God didn’t want to make a big splash.
I believe God wanted to come to us in a whisper not a shout.
I believe God wanted to ease into living among us, as one of us.
And I believe we needed to be eased into having God among us, in the flesh.
I believe this was not something to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly. I believe this needed to be entered into cautiously and with restraint.
I believe that God came quietly to live among us, because I believe God really really wanted to know just what it was like to be human.
I also believe that God’s birth in the person of Jesus Christ was so extraordinary in its ordinariness that creation just couldn’t hold back in the restraint God intended.
I believe that the birth of Jesus in that barn was so glorious that the heaven’s opened up, angels descended and the stars shone extra brightly.
Just like it does for every birth.
Yes, I believe a heavenly host descends to earth singing the praises of a new life each and every time a baby is born. Why? Because each and every time a baby is born, it’s a miracle.
I believe that the gift of a new life, no matter what the circumstances, is an event deserving of awe and wonder.
Here’s what I know from my very limited study of biology but my extensive experience of walking the walk of pregnancy and birth with many friends, family members and parishioners. And what I know from my experience of walking the walk of wanting to be pregnant but not being able to conceive. And walking the walk of getting pregnant but not being able to stay pregnant:
Every single pregnancy that leads to a live birth is a miracle.
So much can go wrong, so much does go wrong. Delivering a healthy happy baby is a miracle. Each and every time.
So while we may not think that the world erupts into a chorus of Joy to the World each and every time a baby is born it may just be that we aren’t listening.
You see, Jesus being born to two ordinary people in a somewhat extraordinary circumstance is exactly how the Messiah, the Prince of Peace, Emmanuel, God in the flesh needed to come to us.
Because the sacred isn’t only the gold and shiny, the neat and tidy, and the all put together in colorful paper and ribbons.
The sacred isn’t only the glorious sunsets, it’s also the rain storms.
The sacred isn’t only the fabulous arias, it’s also the tinny tune of a tone deaf child
The sacred isn’t only on Christmas and Easter.
The sacred is every single day.
The sacred is Creation.
All of it.
The sacred is all that God has created, because all that God creates is beautiful, stunning and miraculous.
All that God creates is priceless…
All that God creates is holy…
And all that God creates is wonderful.
This is the wonder and the glory of this holy and blessed night: that God came to be among us in the skin and bones of humanity, in the dirt and dust of the wilderness, in the baying, baa-ing, mooing and clucking of the donkeys, sheep, cows and chickens of that barn. That God came to be in the hearts and minds and souls of each and every one of us gathered here on this silent night.
I believe that God as Jesus Christ was born to Mary and Joseph and that this birth was revealed with a great heavenly host to shepherds tending their flock in a nearby field because God is in the ordinary and the mundane, as well as the extraordinary and the magnificent.
I believe that Jesus is born to Mary and Joseph each and every year so that maybe, just maybe, a few more people will come to believe that God loves us—US—so much God just can’t stay distant from us.
I believe in the miracle of Christmas, because I believe in the never-ending, all-encompassing love of God, a God who needed, absolutely positively needed to be with us, skin and bones, dirt and dust, baying and mooing and baaing.
I believe in Christmas everyday of every year.
So Merry Christmas today, Merry Christmas Tomorrow, Merry Christmas every single day of your lives.
I believe. Do you?
Amen.
I believe that Jesus is God in the flesh, born of a peasant girl and her betrothed, Joseph.
I believe that this was an extraordinary birth in otherwise ordinary circumstances.
I believe that God chose to come among us in this way because God didn’t want to make a big splash.
I believe God wanted to come to us in a whisper not a shout.
I believe God wanted to ease into living among us, as one of us.
And I believe we needed to be eased into having God among us, in the flesh.
I believe this was not something to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly. I believe this needed to be entered into cautiously and with restraint.
I believe that God came quietly to live among us, because I believe God really really wanted to know just what it was like to be human.
I also believe that God’s birth in the person of Jesus Christ was so extraordinary in its ordinariness that creation just couldn’t hold back in the restraint God intended.
I believe that the birth of Jesus in that barn was so glorious that the heaven’s opened up, angels descended and the stars shone extra brightly.
Just like it does for every birth.
Yes, I believe a heavenly host descends to earth singing the praises of a new life each and every time a baby is born. Why? Because each and every time a baby is born, it’s a miracle.
I believe that the gift of a new life, no matter what the circumstances, is an event deserving of awe and wonder.
Here’s what I know from my very limited study of biology but my extensive experience of walking the walk of pregnancy and birth with many friends, family members and parishioners. And what I know from my experience of walking the walk of wanting to be pregnant but not being able to conceive. And walking the walk of getting pregnant but not being able to stay pregnant:
Every single pregnancy that leads to a live birth is a miracle.
So much can go wrong, so much does go wrong. Delivering a healthy happy baby is a miracle. Each and every time.
So while we may not think that the world erupts into a chorus of Joy to the World each and every time a baby is born it may just be that we aren’t listening.
You see, Jesus being born to two ordinary people in a somewhat extraordinary circumstance is exactly how the Messiah, the Prince of Peace, Emmanuel, God in the flesh needed to come to us.
Because the sacred isn’t only the gold and shiny, the neat and tidy, and the all put together in colorful paper and ribbons.
The sacred isn’t only the glorious sunsets, it’s also the rain storms.
The sacred isn’t only the fabulous arias, it’s also the tinny tune of a tone deaf child
The sacred isn’t only on Christmas and Easter.
The sacred is every single day.
The sacred is Creation.
All of it.
The sacred is all that God has created, because all that God creates is beautiful, stunning and miraculous.
All that God creates is priceless…
All that God creates is holy…
And all that God creates is wonderful.
This is the wonder and the glory of this holy and blessed night: that God came to be among us in the skin and bones of humanity, in the dirt and dust of the wilderness, in the baying, baa-ing, mooing and clucking of the donkeys, sheep, cows and chickens of that barn. That God came to be in the hearts and minds and souls of each and every one of us gathered here on this silent night.
I believe that God as Jesus Christ was born to Mary and Joseph and that this birth was revealed with a great heavenly host to shepherds tending their flock in a nearby field because God is in the ordinary and the mundane, as well as the extraordinary and the magnificent.
I believe that Jesus is born to Mary and Joseph each and every year so that maybe, just maybe, a few more people will come to believe that God loves us—US—so much God just can’t stay distant from us.
I believe in the miracle of Christmas, because I believe in the never-ending, all-encompassing love of God, a God who needed, absolutely positively needed to be with us, skin and bones, dirt and dust, baying and mooing and baaing.
I believe in Christmas everyday of every year.
So Merry Christmas today, Merry Christmas Tomorrow, Merry Christmas every single day of your lives.
I believe. Do you?
Amen.
Sunday, December 23, 2018
Mary is My Hero. Advent 4C St. Patrick's 12.23.18
Mary said “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” With this song of rebellion and revolution Mary solidifies herself as my hero. I love Mary.
Year in and year out, I am utterly blown away by the witness of Mary, the mother of Jesus, his first disciple, and the only person present at the birth, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus…Mary’s little boy.
I love Mary. But not the Mary of adoration and mysticism. Not the “Holy Mother, ever blessed Virgin.” No, I love Mary, the young woman who was, by all accounts, a faithful servant, a good daughter and well…normal.
Mary was a simple young woman living an ordinary life when, suddenly, her life was turned on it’s ear after a visit from the angel Gabriel. [can you imagine her conversation with her mom and dad? With Joseph? “So….this guy Gabriel stopped by….]
Gabriel was an angel…and you need to know that I have a thing about angels. And not always good thing. I’m just not sure what to make of them.
First of all they have wings. I have no issue with birds flying around outside, far above my head, but when anything larger than a mosquito starts flying around my house, near me? I freak out.
So right there, angels kind of bug me.
And then there’s that whole thing about what an angel is…not human, not divine, but somewhere in between…. Just what is an angel?
All that being said, I do appreciate the role of angels in the history of our faith…but those flapping wings? I prefer my angels to look less like the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz and more like Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life. I am more comfortable with angels who look more like you and me and less like, well…angels….
So that’s why I’m pretty sure I would like Gabriel. I just have a sense that Gabriel would be a more regular type guy, regular enough that his initial appearance to Mary didn’t freak her out.
I envision Gabriel as fitting into the landscape of Mary’s world.
So when he appears at Mary’s door, or when he encounters her at the market or down by the river while she washed clothes or out back as she gathered pomegranates from the bushes, wherever it was that this encounter happened, Mary is receptive to him.
Mary receives the message he gives her, outrageous and fantastic as it sounds she says yes. [although my guess it was more , ‘errrr….ok……” than “Absolutley!” Mary receives the message. Mary accepts the message. And then Mary waits. And wonders. And ponders.
Yes Mary is my hero because she was receptive to receiving the Word of God through the angel Gabriel.
Mary’s also my hero because not only did she accept the Word of God through Gabriel she literally BORE the Word of God. Mary, the God-Bearer, carried the incarnated God in her womb for nine months. The word of God grew within her until it could no longer be contained and it burst forth, changing the world. Forever.
And Mary’s my hero because after that birth she led the Lord of Lords and King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, the Messiah, her baby boy…through all the trials and tribulations of childhood.
She nursed him.
She weaned him.
She soothed him when he fell.
She encouraged him as he grew into his role, as he learned that he was, indeed
The Lord of Lords…. the Prince of Peace, the Messiah
And she was there when that role reached its necessary conclusion on that hilltop called Calvary, nailed to that tree.
Yes Mary bore the Word of God as her own flesh and blood and together with him she bore the slings and arrows, the jubilation and the joy of being God in the Flesh, Emmanuel.
But most of all, Mary is my hero because she said yes.
She is my hero because she was open to receiving God and when God asked, she said yes.
Would you? Would I?
How does God ask us to bear the Word of God? And when we are asked, do we say yes?
That’s our task during these days of incarnation, these days of a miracle birth in Bethlehem---to ask ourselves, how has God presented Godself to me? Has God come to us like Clarence?
Or like Gabriel?
Or has God come to us in the neighborhood child who could use a smile.
Or the elderly woman in the grocery store who cannot reach the top shelf?
Or the homeless and the hungry?
The destitute and the depressed?
The lost and the lonely?
Perhaps God has asked us to bear the Word of God while we stood in the voting booth, or while we decide where to spend our money, or when we know a friend or family member is in an abusive relationship.
Maybe God asks us to Bear God’s Word at all times. And in all places.
And maybe, maybe that’s the point of God coming to be among us in the first place…to show us, to teach us that bearing the Word of God is not a once in a lifetime thing, it’s a lifetime thing.
Mary is my hero because Mary’s life was spent, being the God-Bearer. In all that she was and in all that she did.
Let us all sing the song of Mary applying all of what it represents, all that she represents and apply it to who we are and to whom it is we wish to be.
Mary is my hero.
May she be yours, as well.
Amen.
Year in and year out, I am utterly blown away by the witness of Mary, the mother of Jesus, his first disciple, and the only person present at the birth, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus…Mary’s little boy.
I love Mary. But not the Mary of adoration and mysticism. Not the “Holy Mother, ever blessed Virgin.” No, I love Mary, the young woman who was, by all accounts, a faithful servant, a good daughter and well…normal.
Mary was a simple young woman living an ordinary life when, suddenly, her life was turned on it’s ear after a visit from the angel Gabriel. [can you imagine her conversation with her mom and dad? With Joseph? “So….this guy Gabriel stopped by….]
Gabriel was an angel…and you need to know that I have a thing about angels. And not always good thing. I’m just not sure what to make of them.
First of all they have wings. I have no issue with birds flying around outside, far above my head, but when anything larger than a mosquito starts flying around my house, near me? I freak out.
So right there, angels kind of bug me.
And then there’s that whole thing about what an angel is…not human, not divine, but somewhere in between…. Just what is an angel?
All that being said, I do appreciate the role of angels in the history of our faith…but those flapping wings? I prefer my angels to look less like the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz and more like Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life. I am more comfortable with angels who look more like you and me and less like, well…angels….
So that’s why I’m pretty sure I would like Gabriel. I just have a sense that Gabriel would be a more regular type guy, regular enough that his initial appearance to Mary didn’t freak her out.
I envision Gabriel as fitting into the landscape of Mary’s world.
So when he appears at Mary’s door, or when he encounters her at the market or down by the river while she washed clothes or out back as she gathered pomegranates from the bushes, wherever it was that this encounter happened, Mary is receptive to him.
Mary receives the message he gives her, outrageous and fantastic as it sounds she says yes. [although my guess it was more , ‘errrr….ok……” than “Absolutley!” Mary receives the message. Mary accepts the message. And then Mary waits. And wonders. And ponders.
Yes Mary is my hero because she was receptive to receiving the Word of God through the angel Gabriel.
Mary’s also my hero because not only did she accept the Word of God through Gabriel she literally BORE the Word of God. Mary, the God-Bearer, carried the incarnated God in her womb for nine months. The word of God grew within her until it could no longer be contained and it burst forth, changing the world. Forever.
And Mary’s my hero because after that birth she led the Lord of Lords and King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, the Messiah, her baby boy…through all the trials and tribulations of childhood.
She nursed him.
She weaned him.
She soothed him when he fell.
She encouraged him as he grew into his role, as he learned that he was, indeed
The Lord of Lords…. the Prince of Peace, the Messiah
And she was there when that role reached its necessary conclusion on that hilltop called Calvary, nailed to that tree.
Yes Mary bore the Word of God as her own flesh and blood and together with him she bore the slings and arrows, the jubilation and the joy of being God in the Flesh, Emmanuel.
But most of all, Mary is my hero because she said yes.
She is my hero because she was open to receiving God and when God asked, she said yes.
Would you? Would I?
How does God ask us to bear the Word of God? And when we are asked, do we say yes?
That’s our task during these days of incarnation, these days of a miracle birth in Bethlehem---to ask ourselves, how has God presented Godself to me? Has God come to us like Clarence?
Or like Gabriel?
Or has God come to us in the neighborhood child who could use a smile.
Or the elderly woman in the grocery store who cannot reach the top shelf?
Or the homeless and the hungry?
The destitute and the depressed?
The lost and the lonely?
Perhaps God has asked us to bear the Word of God while we stood in the voting booth, or while we decide where to spend our money, or when we know a friend or family member is in an abusive relationship.
Maybe God asks us to Bear God’s Word at all times. And in all places.
And maybe, maybe that’s the point of God coming to be among us in the first place…to show us, to teach us that bearing the Word of God is not a once in a lifetime thing, it’s a lifetime thing.
Mary is my hero because Mary’s life was spent, being the God-Bearer. In all that she was and in all that she did.
Let us all sing the song of Mary applying all of what it represents, all that she represents and apply it to who we are and to whom it is we wish to be.
Mary is my hero.
May she be yours, as well.
Amen.
Monday, December 17, 2018
Rejoicing for it all. Even the fleas. Adv 3C St Paul’s Springville December 16, 2018
+St Paul tells the Philippians: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, Rejoice!
There are times, when I read this passage that I want to yell at Paul—"hey pal, easier said than done!”
Life isn’t easy.
All of us here have had our share of losses: deaths, unemployment, divorce, fear, disappointment. Just last week bomb threats affected schools and businesses here in WNY and across the country. We seem to be living on the edge, nervous, wondering what’s next. These are uncertain times.
It’s as if outside these doors we live in a season of worry and fretting rather than in a season of gratitude and rejoicing.
But then, every Sunday we approach this altar, we lay our burdens down and we rejoice and give thanks for the wonder that is the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ.
You see, this is the thing about being a follower of Jesus ---even in the worst of times, we gather around this altar and offer all that we are and all that we have in a great Thanksgiving of love and community. Amidst the encroaching darkness of this world we find light, we express hope, we experience joy.
But then we walk out these doors and run smack dab into a world that has seemingly gone mad.
It was the 6th anniversary of the school massacre at Sandy Hook this past Friday. And on that day, the newly rebuilt Sandy Hook school was placed on lockdown due to the threat of a gunman on the loose within the school.
On that same day a 7 year old girl traveling with her father is detained by the border patrol and somehow no one notices that she is in dire straits and she dies of dehydration and shock. 7 years old.
Our world is full of darkness, it can be hard to find the light.
Yet Paul says, rejoice. Rejoice!
And you know what, he is absolutely right.
For without hope, without joy, without gladness, how will we ever survive what’s happening in this world? We won’t. And that’s Paul’s point.
The Christians of Philippi were frazzled, frightened and fragmented; outsiders were trying to draw believers away from God, many Christians faced persecution. Paul wanted them to know that, no matter how rotten things might seem, they would not be defeated.
Paul gives the Philippians and us the secret to finding joy and peace: Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is the dynamic, the spirit and the emotion that opens us up to joy and peace and hope. Gratitude is the one emotion where we are truly focused not on ourselves, but on the gift and the giver. When in a spirit of thanksgiving, we turn ourselves toward God and toward Life and Light and Love.
Gratitude is a matter of perspective, it’s about what we focus on, what we pay attention to in our lives. The folks I know who project gratitude regularly are the folks who make it a habit to pay attention to whatever is positive in their lives.
The grace of gratitude comes when we’re able to discipline ourselves to develop a healthy perspective, when we learn to be patient and to show our gentleness to everyone. The grace of gratitude comes when we lose the assumption that life would be better without the obstacles, troubles and deprivations that come our way. Because even in the midst of all that pain, we find gratitude. It may be simple, it may feel fleeting, but it’s there.
Corrie Ten Boom, who with her family lived through the holocaust, often told the story of how she and her sister Betsy survived in a flea-ridden Nazi prison camp. One day Betsy said “I have found something in the Bible that will help us. It says, ‘In all things give thanks’. Corrie said, “I can’t give thanks for the fleas.” Betsy replied, “Give thanks that we’re together. Most families have been split up. Give thanks that somehow the guards didn’t check our belongings and we have our Bible with us.” Corrie gave thanks for that, but she would not even think of giving thanks for the fleas. But later, they found out that the only reason they were not abused by the guards was because their captors were so repulsed by the fleas that they wouldn’t even enter the sisters’ cell. Corrie allowed as how this taught her to give thanks for all things, because within the greatest darkness lies a spark, maybe even just a sliver, of light…
Gratitude and thanksgiving are not simply about the easy and pretty places in our lives, rather they’re about accepting that all of life, even pain, sadness, grief and loss, is a precious, glorious gift, for so often what emerges from great sadness is new wisdom, greater strength, and overwhelming hope that even the fleas have something good to offer us!
My friends, the world is a chaotic, confusing and hurting place, but there is a way out of this mess. And it is about ready to arrive. A babe in a manger. The Prince of Peace who will, as John tells us in today’s Gospel ,teach us to share…to be kind… and to speak the truth. A babe in whom lies all our hope and all our joy.
How is it that we can rejoice in all things, even in the dark and painful and frustrating things? Because God so loved the world that God sent God’s only begotten Son to walk among us and to teach us that hope always defeats doubt, Light always overcomes darkness and Joy always emerges from despair.
It is Advent my friends, the hope of the world is about to be born Rejoice. Rejoice I say, Rejoice! Amen
There are times, when I read this passage that I want to yell at Paul—"hey pal, easier said than done!”
Life isn’t easy.
All of us here have had our share of losses: deaths, unemployment, divorce, fear, disappointment. Just last week bomb threats affected schools and businesses here in WNY and across the country. We seem to be living on the edge, nervous, wondering what’s next. These are uncertain times.
It’s as if outside these doors we live in a season of worry and fretting rather than in a season of gratitude and rejoicing.
But then, every Sunday we approach this altar, we lay our burdens down and we rejoice and give thanks for the wonder that is the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ.
You see, this is the thing about being a follower of Jesus ---even in the worst of times, we gather around this altar and offer all that we are and all that we have in a great Thanksgiving of love and community. Amidst the encroaching darkness of this world we find light, we express hope, we experience joy.
But then we walk out these doors and run smack dab into a world that has seemingly gone mad.
It was the 6th anniversary of the school massacre at Sandy Hook this past Friday. And on that day, the newly rebuilt Sandy Hook school was placed on lockdown due to the threat of a gunman on the loose within the school.
On that same day a 7 year old girl traveling with her father is detained by the border patrol and somehow no one notices that she is in dire straits and she dies of dehydration and shock. 7 years old.
Our world is full of darkness, it can be hard to find the light.
Yet Paul says, rejoice. Rejoice!
And you know what, he is absolutely right.
For without hope, without joy, without gladness, how will we ever survive what’s happening in this world? We won’t. And that’s Paul’s point.
The Christians of Philippi were frazzled, frightened and fragmented; outsiders were trying to draw believers away from God, many Christians faced persecution. Paul wanted them to know that, no matter how rotten things might seem, they would not be defeated.
Paul gives the Philippians and us the secret to finding joy and peace: Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is the dynamic, the spirit and the emotion that opens us up to joy and peace and hope. Gratitude is the one emotion where we are truly focused not on ourselves, but on the gift and the giver. When in a spirit of thanksgiving, we turn ourselves toward God and toward Life and Light and Love.
Gratitude is a matter of perspective, it’s about what we focus on, what we pay attention to in our lives. The folks I know who project gratitude regularly are the folks who make it a habit to pay attention to whatever is positive in their lives.
The grace of gratitude comes when we’re able to discipline ourselves to develop a healthy perspective, when we learn to be patient and to show our gentleness to everyone. The grace of gratitude comes when we lose the assumption that life would be better without the obstacles, troubles and deprivations that come our way. Because even in the midst of all that pain, we find gratitude. It may be simple, it may feel fleeting, but it’s there.
Corrie Ten Boom, who with her family lived through the holocaust, often told the story of how she and her sister Betsy survived in a flea-ridden Nazi prison camp. One day Betsy said “I have found something in the Bible that will help us. It says, ‘In all things give thanks’. Corrie said, “I can’t give thanks for the fleas.” Betsy replied, “Give thanks that we’re together. Most families have been split up. Give thanks that somehow the guards didn’t check our belongings and we have our Bible with us.” Corrie gave thanks for that, but she would not even think of giving thanks for the fleas. But later, they found out that the only reason they were not abused by the guards was because their captors were so repulsed by the fleas that they wouldn’t even enter the sisters’ cell. Corrie allowed as how this taught her to give thanks for all things, because within the greatest darkness lies a spark, maybe even just a sliver, of light…
Gratitude and thanksgiving are not simply about the easy and pretty places in our lives, rather they’re about accepting that all of life, even pain, sadness, grief and loss, is a precious, glorious gift, for so often what emerges from great sadness is new wisdom, greater strength, and overwhelming hope that even the fleas have something good to offer us!
My friends, the world is a chaotic, confusing and hurting place, but there is a way out of this mess. And it is about ready to arrive. A babe in a manger. The Prince of Peace who will, as John tells us in today’s Gospel ,teach us to share…to be kind… and to speak the truth. A babe in whom lies all our hope and all our joy.
How is it that we can rejoice in all things, even in the dark and painful and frustrating things? Because God so loved the world that God sent God’s only begotten Son to walk among us and to teach us that hope always defeats doubt, Light always overcomes darkness and Joy always emerges from despair.
It is Advent my friends, the hope of the world is about to be born Rejoice. Rejoice I say, Rejoice! Amen
Thursday, November 29, 2018
Funeral Homily for Richard Cekalske 11.28.18
+St Paul says: So, we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.
It was tough to witness Richard’s failing health these past few years. He was someone who’s outer nature was always moving, always heading toward the next adventure, not being able to do that, had to have been difficult.
Whether it was dancing---oh how he and Lorraine loved their dancing! ---or camping, boating, skiing, riding his motorcycle, Richard squeezed all that he could out of every moment.
He had that twinkle in his eye that suggested a mischievous side, a plan of action, a new adventure to embark upon, Richard was ready.
There may have been times when Richard began to lose heart, but it didn’t last. Why? Because Richard was always renewing---when sick Lorraine couldn’t keep him in bed because he wanted to check on his properties or tinker with his van or make one more trip to the casino---Richard always had places to go and people to see. As a matter of fact, just a few weeks before he died, as Lorraine was heading to work, he called out, “I want to come and help you, I want to volunteer.” His body was failing him, but his spirit was strong—he did not lose heart.
Richard made friends wherever he went---there is the story of the epic bus trip to Tennessee with the dance group. It began with Richard sharing his beloved strawberry pies with everyone and was topped off by, after he missed the tour bus departure to Pigeon Forge, Richard hitch-hiking to Pigeon Forge where, after he and the driver shared a great breakfast and became fast friends, he miraculously found the group and joined the tour as if nothing at all had gone array!
That was Richard, from his BOLO tie, boots, various and sundry reading glasses strung around his neck ,to that twinkle in his eye, Richard loved meeting people, trying new things, having a good time. Richard loved. And it showed.
Now if there is one thing, I can’t stand is a funeral homily that makes the deceased sound flawless. Richard had flaws. We all have flaws. But it was really difficult to stay mad at Richard. Because he was too funny, too quick with a laugh, too fast to lend a helping hand to stay mad.
As we hear in our readings today, anyone who hears Jesus’ word and believes in the One who sent him has eternal life, and does not come under judgement, but passes seamlessly from death to life.
Richard wasn’t a church goer, he wasn’t a man who spoke about his faith but let me tell you, he was a man who lived it.
You had to pay attention to see it, but it was there—once a panhandler asked Richard for money, and without missing a beat, Richard told the man he was working this side of the street, so the man needed to get off his turf. Richard then laughed that laugh of his and helped the man out. Richard normalized the situation, engaged the man in conversation and then offered him a helping hand. The last time I checked, that behavior fell under the category of respecting the dignity of every human being. Of loving your neighbor as yourself. As doing what it is Jesus would do.
Once, about 6 years ago there was a priest and a deacon who always enjoyed seeing Richard. When Diocesan Convention was scheduled for Niagara Falls that year, Richard made a date with this couple to take them to the casino because he was fairly appalled that neither of them had ever been in one. Sure enough, Lorraine, Pete, Richard and I snuck out of convention and much to the chagrin of the Bishop, went across the street to play the slots. Richard took us under his wing showing us the ropes. It’s one of my fondest memories---not because I finally set foot in a casino, not because Pete actually won some money, no it’s one of my fondest memories because of Richard (and Lorraine’s) kindness and their delight in sharing with us something that brought them great joy.
My friends, that’s love. Sharing joy with others, bringing joy to others, wanting joy for others. That’s love.
I didn’t spend a lot of time with Richard, but whenever I did, I felt better for having done it, because when I spent time with him, I felt alive, I felt enthusiastic, I felt love.
I consider it one of the great honors of my priesthood that on the morning of his death I was able to offer him the prayers and the anointing of the church, sending him on his way to the fullness of life eternal.
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the drawing of Jesus laughing. I have it on my fridge at home…Jesus has his head thrown back and he’s laughing a deep belly laugh, face full of delight. I have no doubt that when Richard took his final breaths early in the morning on October 15th, both he and Jesus threw their heads back, laughing as they reminisced about an earthly life well-lived, now finished.
After the slight momentary affliction of illness and death, Richard entered the immeasurable, never ending, always glimmering glory of God, accompanied by all the saints in light.
Rest in peace Richard. Rest in Light, Rest in Laughter, Rest in love.
You’ve earned it.
Amen.
It was tough to witness Richard’s failing health these past few years. He was someone who’s outer nature was always moving, always heading toward the next adventure, not being able to do that, had to have been difficult.
Whether it was dancing---oh how he and Lorraine loved their dancing! ---or camping, boating, skiing, riding his motorcycle, Richard squeezed all that he could out of every moment.
He had that twinkle in his eye that suggested a mischievous side, a plan of action, a new adventure to embark upon, Richard was ready.
There may have been times when Richard began to lose heart, but it didn’t last. Why? Because Richard was always renewing---when sick Lorraine couldn’t keep him in bed because he wanted to check on his properties or tinker with his van or make one more trip to the casino---Richard always had places to go and people to see. As a matter of fact, just a few weeks before he died, as Lorraine was heading to work, he called out, “I want to come and help you, I want to volunteer.” His body was failing him, but his spirit was strong—he did not lose heart.
Richard made friends wherever he went---there is the story of the epic bus trip to Tennessee with the dance group. It began with Richard sharing his beloved strawberry pies with everyone and was topped off by, after he missed the tour bus departure to Pigeon Forge, Richard hitch-hiking to Pigeon Forge where, after he and the driver shared a great breakfast and became fast friends, he miraculously found the group and joined the tour as if nothing at all had gone array!
That was Richard, from his BOLO tie, boots, various and sundry reading glasses strung around his neck ,to that twinkle in his eye, Richard loved meeting people, trying new things, having a good time. Richard loved. And it showed.
Now if there is one thing, I can’t stand is a funeral homily that makes the deceased sound flawless. Richard had flaws. We all have flaws. But it was really difficult to stay mad at Richard. Because he was too funny, too quick with a laugh, too fast to lend a helping hand to stay mad.
As we hear in our readings today, anyone who hears Jesus’ word and believes in the One who sent him has eternal life, and does not come under judgement, but passes seamlessly from death to life.
Richard wasn’t a church goer, he wasn’t a man who spoke about his faith but let me tell you, he was a man who lived it.
You had to pay attention to see it, but it was there—once a panhandler asked Richard for money, and without missing a beat, Richard told the man he was working this side of the street, so the man needed to get off his turf. Richard then laughed that laugh of his and helped the man out. Richard normalized the situation, engaged the man in conversation and then offered him a helping hand. The last time I checked, that behavior fell under the category of respecting the dignity of every human being. Of loving your neighbor as yourself. As doing what it is Jesus would do.
Once, about 6 years ago there was a priest and a deacon who always enjoyed seeing Richard. When Diocesan Convention was scheduled for Niagara Falls that year, Richard made a date with this couple to take them to the casino because he was fairly appalled that neither of them had ever been in one. Sure enough, Lorraine, Pete, Richard and I snuck out of convention and much to the chagrin of the Bishop, went across the street to play the slots. Richard took us under his wing showing us the ropes. It’s one of my fondest memories---not because I finally set foot in a casino, not because Pete actually won some money, no it’s one of my fondest memories because of Richard (and Lorraine’s) kindness and their delight in sharing with us something that brought them great joy.
My friends, that’s love. Sharing joy with others, bringing joy to others, wanting joy for others. That’s love.
I didn’t spend a lot of time with Richard, but whenever I did, I felt better for having done it, because when I spent time with him, I felt alive, I felt enthusiastic, I felt love.
I consider it one of the great honors of my priesthood that on the morning of his death I was able to offer him the prayers and the anointing of the church, sending him on his way to the fullness of life eternal.
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the drawing of Jesus laughing. I have it on my fridge at home…Jesus has his head thrown back and he’s laughing a deep belly laugh, face full of delight. I have no doubt that when Richard took his final breaths early in the morning on October 15th, both he and Jesus threw their heads back, laughing as they reminisced about an earthly life well-lived, now finished.
After the slight momentary affliction of illness and death, Richard entered the immeasurable, never ending, always glimmering glory of God, accompanied by all the saints in light.
Rest in peace Richard. Rest in Light, Rest in Laughter, Rest in love.
You’ve earned it.
Amen.
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