Let the Light Shine

Sermon

LET THE LIGHT SHINE

Christmas Day 2012

John 1:1-14

Merry Christmas!!! The light is indeed shining here at St. Paul’s. This has been an absolutely glorious Christmas weekend, culminating this morning in the baptism of Charles Atticus Diggins. What a blessed day on which to become fully initiated by water and the Holy Spirit into Christ’s Body the Church!

Tomorrow we move onto the year 2013, and the many challenges that face us both as a nation and as a world community.

One of my favorite parts of the nativity story is that wonderful scene from Luke’s Gospel in which the angel of the Lord stands before the shepherds as they ready their sheep for the long, cold night.

“Then the Angel of the Lord stood before them, and the Glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!’” (Luke 2:9-14)

Whenever I hear or read this passage, I imagine the shepherds, tired, cold, dirty, hungry after days watching over sheep that wander and need continual care, sitting close to each other as night falls. It is quiet; it is calm; it is peaceful – everyone ready for sleep –and then, suddenly, something big, bright, fantastic, and totally unknown bursts out all around them. What an image!

The shepherds are terrified – who wouldn’t be? But then, probably in a flash – a nano-second - the angels comfort them and tell them that a savior, their savior, has been born; and, that as a result of this birth, there will be peace among those whom he favors.

Once the angels have departed and the commotion has died down, the shepherds begin speaking to each other. They are excited, curious; and, they agree, immediately, to “go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place…” They rush off, to find the baby - Jesus, the Savior, the Holy One; and, they find him lying in a manger wrapped in swaddling.

As I indicated earlier, this is such a powerful story for me. Why? Because it tells me that in the darkness, in the cold, in discomfort, in suffering, there can be a light – an amazing light. A light so fantastic that it is, at first, absolutely terrifying. A light that is at first terrifying; and then, when we allow ourselves to see and hear that light, it becomes a light that calms; that guides; that shines in the darkness; that brings a peace that passes all understanding… it is the light that brings us eternal life as a child of God and member of his Heavenly Kingdom of saints.

This Advent season, at first no different than any other Advent season, began as a time of expectant waiting and preparation for the celebration of the nativity of Jesus. It also marked the countdown to Christmas. Christmas carols and plans for annual family gatherings abounded; and, of course, there was shopping – lots and lots of shopping. Hopes and eager anticipation for a glorious Christmas day were high.

Mid-way through this joyous time, however, we encountered a tragedy that shattered our dreams of peace and joy, and left many of us lost in darkness – the darkness of wondering just how to place this latest act of senseless violence in some context within the realm of the American Dream, democracy, Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any of the other world’s religions, all of which hold firm to the belief that we must love our neighbor as ourselves.

Where was the light in the unspeakable sadness that tore hearts, dreams, and lives asunder in less than ten minutes? How were we to move forward to the Christmas joy that we originally anticipated? Some people wondered, “Should we even celebrate Christmas?”

In the days that have followed this Armageddon of innocence; this latest mass shooting, many voices – some world famous, and some not at all world famous – have cried out in pain and in anger. We like Habakkuk have cried out, “How long, O LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, "Violence!" but you do not save?”  (Habakkuk 1:2)

Those very thoughts were indeed the basis for many a conversation overheard both here at St. Paul’s and elsewhere throughout our nation and the world. The nation cried out, pleading for gun control, better mental health services, a decrease in violent movies, TV shows, video games and rap music.

President Obama and others have promised “change.” Yet, many wonder, will change occur; or, will we forget this event, just like we have forgotten so many others?”

On this Christmas Day of 2012, as we struggle with the complex challenges of our society and the world, where insecurity, darkness and evil - like it or not – are a reality, no other Gospel reading is more appropriate than today’s.

Listen to the words of the stunningly beautiful hymn that John uses to introduce his good news.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:1-5)

Henry Gustafson, Professor Emeritus of New Testament Theology at United Theological Seminary in Minnesota, writes concerning this passage,

“According to our hymn this creative Word was the source of life. What has come into being in him was ‘life.’ This life meant knowing God, not merely ‘knowing about’ God, but experiencing God as being altogether significant for one’s life. The knowledge of God is like light shining in the darkness. The Word is a source of both life and light. Tragically, however, humankind too often fails to hear the Word, to receive the life, and to see the light.”

Richard Van Egmond, a Catholic professor of Scripture and Theology, summarizes John’s opening hymn in saying,

“The Prologue addresses the contemporary reader in a number of aspects. From the outset, it sets out the scope of the redemptive plan of God as being closely connected with God’s creative activity…For all its broad, cosmic scope, the Prologue presents a direct and personal question to readers of all times: will the one who reads believe, and share in the fullness of grace given by the One who has come from the Father to dwell alongside us?”

Should we celebrate Christmas this year, despite the Newtown massacre and despite the multitude of tragedies occurring world-wide? We most certainly should.

We should be no less amazed than Luke’s shepherds at the Light that has been given to us this day; no less prepared to make haste to visit the newborn and to see with our own eyes the light that shines. And, as the light – the Word - shines in the darkness all around us, today and every day, no less eager than Paul to “take up the whole armor of God, so that we may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.” (Ephesians 6:13)

Today, we most certainly must celebrate. We cannot afford not to celebrate. We most certainly must stand firm in our faith; we cannot afford to not stand firm, and in so doing lift high the cross of Jesus in order that all may see its Light.

We cannot afford to ignore the Light that shines among us. If we can see the Light, feel it, live it, be humbled by it and servant to it, we can accomplish much as we spread the Good News – God’s love and salvation - right here among us; now; today; and for years to come.

We can fulfill our mission in Christ – to carry the Light to all nations; to reconcile the world, our world, to God’s Love.

It is the celebration of this Light, the Light that shines so brightly this Christmas Day, that helps us keep the faith, despite the evidence of darkness throughout the world. In our celebration of and faith in the Light, the darkness will not overcome it.

AMEN

 

Welcome Home!!!

Sermon

Welcome Home

November 11, 2012

Mark 12: 38-44

 

My father loved to tell stories and I loved to listen to his stories. Each time he told one of his stories, it was as if he was telling it for the first time – his enthusiasm and joy were limitless.

One of his favorites was about his three years in the Italian Army during World War I – yes, you heard me correctly, World War I.

He would always start this story by saying, “One of the proudest moments of my life was when I served my country during the war.” Then he would go on to describe his quick rise from the rank of private to that of Captain, and the leadership role that he played in positioning artillery in the Dolomites.

The Dolomites are a spectacular mountain range located along the northern border of Italy. During the First World War the Dolomites were the scene of fierce battles between Italian and Austro-Hungarian troops. Horses and donkeys carried the artillery up 9,000 ft. into the mountains. Eight footpaths were created to defend against the invading Austro-Hungarian army. The first and, perhaps, most renowned of these footpaths was the Alta Via 1. The Alta Via 1 which penetrates the heart of the Dolomites was the path that my father helped to create by dragging cannon up into the mountains in the heavy snows of the winter of 1917.

My father would explain, “It was hard work and it was very cold. We slept under the snow to stay warm. The enemy was all around us. Cannon were going off constantly. “You know,” he would add, “my father was very proud of me. When I finally came home there was a big welcome celebration – una grande festa a casa di benvenuto. Everyone was happy to see me.”

The welcome home – a heart-felt welcome into a supportive, loving, and pride-filled family and community – that’s what counted – that’s what was needed to heal the wounds of war.

War has been with us since at least 2000 BC when men in chariots used bows, arrows, sling shots and swords to attack one other. The concept of fighting against those who threaten our territory and our safety has remained the same throughout the ages. The only difference is that today our weapons are drones, powerful missals, and improvised explosive devices.

War has never been gentle; it has always been brutal. Men and women die in distressing numbers, others are disfigured and maimed. The psychological effects of warfare are also huge, impacting not only those in uniform but their families and friends as well.

Men and women throughout the history of our country have dedicated their lives to protecting the United States and its freedom. Whether in combat or playing critical support roles behind the scenes, these men and women have experienced a reality that those of us at home will never comprehend. They have also experienced the pain and anxiety of being separated from loved ones, and realistic concerns that once they arrive back home their lives will have changed in ways they cannot imagine.

The way in which we welcome home our men and women in uniform has always been, and continues to be, critical to their successful reintegration into the community that they left behind, and essential to their ability to pick-up where they left off as valued members of their family and their community.

A heart-felt welcome home, into a supportive, loving, and pride-filled family and community – that’s what counts – that’s what is needed to heal the wounds of war.

This welcome home has never been more important that it is today.

Timothy Williams in a New York Times article published in June 2012 wrote:

“The suicide rate among the nation’s active-duty military personnel has spiked this year, eclipsing the number of troops dying in battle, and on pace to set a record annual high since the start of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan more than a decade ago…There have been 154 suicides among active-duty troops through June 1, 2012, a rate of nearly one each day this year.

By contrast, there were 124 American military fatalities in Afghanistan as of June 1 this year.”

154 suicides; 124 military fatalities…

Williams goes on to say, “Paul Rieckhoff, executive director of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, reported suicides among active-duty military personnel are just “the tip of the iceberg.” Reickoff cited a recent survey his group conducted this year among 160,000 active members of the military. The survey findings indicated that 37 percent of the respondents knew someone who had committed suicide.”

I’ll do the math for you on that one… of the 160,000 active military surveyed, 59,200 men and women knew someone who had committed suicide.

Williams concludes, “Mr. Rieckhoff attributed the rise in military suicides to too few qualified mental health professionals, aggravated by the stigma of receiving counseling and further compounded by family stresses and financial problems. The unemployment rate among military families is a particular problem, Reickhoff  said. They are thinking about combat, yeah, but they are also thinking about their wives and kids back home.”

Implicit in this article is the importance of a heartfelt welcome home for these men and women - A welcome home that includes acceptance, reintegration programs, counseling, education and jobs. These are the welcome home gifts that we can and should be giving to our returning troops.

Welcome home gifts given out of love, respect and compassion; the love, respect and compassion that Christ calls us to in our baptismal vows. Gifts that seek to serve the Christ in all people, and that offer community, belonging and hope to those who have given freely of themselves to protect the liberty and freedom of the United States.

As members of the Episcopal Church we know full well that all of Scripture – both the Old and the New Testaments – teaches us, informs us, and guides us in behaviors that witness compassionate caring and heartfelt welcoming to both those whom we know, and to those whom we do not know.

Compassionate caring and heartfelt welcoming are central to the teachings of Jesus and to our baptismal vows; and, therefore, to our way of life. Our sense of self, our devotion to family, and to our commitment to the community in which we live are all driven by compassionate caring and heartfelt welcoming.

In today’s Old Testament reading we hear the story of Ruth, a young Moabite widow who leaves the comfort her homeland and her family to follow Naomi, her mother-in-law who is also widowed, to Bethlehem in Judea – a foreign territory hostile to the Moabites.  Naomi tries to dissuade Ruth from following her. She says, “Turn back…go your way.” But, “Ruth clung to her and said ‘Do not press me to leave you or turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go…your people shall be my people and your God my God.’” Ruth literally gave up everything so that Naomi would not be alone.

Once Ruth arrives in Bethlehem her servant loyalty and compassionate devotion to Naomi shine through all of her actions. Within a short period of time Ruth, the non-Israelite, is welcomed by Boaz, the Israelite landowner – unheard of in those days! Boaz gives Ruth work in his fields and allows her to take the leftovers from the harvest home to feed herself and Naomi.

Boaz is deeply moved by Ruth’s devotion to Naomi.  By the end of Chapter Four we learn that …”Boaz took Ruth and she became his wife, the Lord made her conceive, and she bore a son…The women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying. ‘A son has been born to Ruth.’ They named him Obed; he became the father of Jesse, the father of David.” (Ruth 4:13-17)

A non-Israelite welcomed by and then married to an Israelite whom God chooses to bear the ancestor to Jesus. What a story of welcoming and inclusion! What a story of God’s love for those who model caring and welcoming! The book of Ruth portrays a perfect example of a God who desires inclusion of all, transcending cultural or racial boundaries.

Ruth and Boaz are models hesed, a Hebrew term that means kindness, or loving-kindness. They act in ways that promote the well-being of others. As their reward they are given the gift of peace and fulfillment in unity under God.

Afghanistani veteran Captain Alvin Shell who was severely wounded in 2004 in Iraq also recognizes the importance of these gifts. Several months ago at a local fundraising event in his home town he shared his experience of overcoming the hardest time in his life with the help of his family, especially his wife. He said:

“When I woke up from the medically-induced coma, I saw my mother, father, and wife. I remember immediately everyone loving me,” he said. “My wife looked at me the same way she did on our wedding day. She accepted me for what I was.”

 Shell, who now works as the Force Protection Branch Chief at the Department of Homeland Security, claims he wouldn’t be where he is today without the support and love he received from his wife and the rest of his family.

Shell said: “I often think, what would I have done if I didn’t have these people in my life to support me?  I’m glad to say I’ll never have to know.” Then he said. “My question is, who is going to be there to support the other Veterans out there? How many of you are going to hold fast to your commitment to Veterans? We all have an obligation to serve those who chose to serve this country.”

 In today’s reading from the Gospel of Mark we hear another story of compassion and caring. A poor widow tosses two small brass coins, perhaps her very last coins, where previously the elite and wealthy scribes had cast large sums of money.

What do we think when we think about the story of the widow's meager offering? Do we say to ourselves: "What's the point of such small acts of faithfulness? Why bother? Why would someone with so little give her last two pennies to the poor when there are so many rich people giving large sums of money? In the scheme of things, what is the value of these two small coins – why bother?

I would like to suggest that the story of the widow's offering points out that faithful giving (and faithful living) – a life dedicated to compassion and caring - is not for the sake of recipient but rather for the sake of (or maybe it would be more accurate to say proceeds organically from – grows out of) the life of the giver. The poor widow in her giving and her gift of self represented by two small coins, becomes a Christ figure rather than a disciple figure.

Henry Langknecht, Associate Professor of Homiletics of Trinity Lutheran Seminary in Columbus, Ohio, writes concerning this interpretation of the widow as a Christ figure:

“What makes this connection appealing is the difficulty (but rightness) of the forced analogy between her worthless coins and Jesus' life which leads to the paradox that this worthless gift brings about the salvation of the world.”

In discussing this conclusion, Langkencht references Philippians 2:1-5.

“If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consideration from love, any sharing of the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves, Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…”

The poor widow understood the importance compassion and caring – gifts to be given out of love – not out of wealth.

As we salute our Veterans on this their day of national acknowledgement, let us understand the importance of love, compassion and welcoming others into our community. Let us be clear that no one of these gifts is ever too small; no act of caring too insignificant in welcoming home, in honoring, and in supporting the men and women who have committed their lives to the liberty, freedom and safety of every single person sitting in this room and every other person throughout our nation.

Now more than ever our love, compassion, and welcoming are needed. Our understanding of our role as a Ruth or as a poor widow is essential. No gift is too small in welcoming and caring for our Veterans and their families.

I began with my father and I will close with him - with words from what he claimed was his favorite song –a song from the Broadway production that he appeared in during the last months of his life.

It was his favorite song he told me, in yet another story, because it reminded him of his father’s love for him, shown in the welcome that he received when he returned home from his treks through the Dolomites in World War I.

Welcome Home

Why even when I leave this neighborhood for only a day

To go to the beach or the vineyards across the bay,

No matter what I do or see,

After turning home again, I get to that corner and then,

Sweet voices, I hear sweet voices calling to me.

 

Welcome home says the street as I hurry on my way.

Welcome home sings the gate like a song!

Welcome home says the door, Glad to feel your hand once more.

Now that you’re back where you belong.

Welcome home, says the chair holding out its friendly arms.

Welcome home says the bed, Rest on me!

Now you’re back where you should be, close your eyes, close your eyes,

And the world will settle down to size.

Welcome home says the lamp, lighting up familiar things.

Look around at your friends good and true.

Get your cares all untied while you’re warming up inside.

Welcome home to you. Welcome home to you. Welcome home to you.

Would that all the Lord's people were prophets...

Sermon

Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets…

September 30, 2012

Mark 9: 38-50

 

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14)

About twelve years ago, I made my first mission trip to Haiti. I went as a guest of an Episcopal not for profit organization that supported medical and educational missions in Haiti.

I knew nothing of Haiti at that time. It was a complete unknown to me. My friends and acquaintances all said to me, “Really? You’re going to Haiti -- just like that? Really?”

“Well, yes”, I said – “really.” And so, off I went to Haiti for a five day trip – a trip that I will never forget. Ever since then, Haiti has been in my heart and in my soul.

As soon as I returned from my short trip, I wrote a two-page narrative and sent it to my church’s Mission & Outreach committee along with a request for $5,000 to begin my mission work at an Episcopal hospital in that tiny, impoverished country.

The committee called me into their next meeting, and after asking a question or two said, “We have decided to give you $10,000 to go forward with your work in Haiti.” Wow…

My narrative had placed Haiti in their hearts, as well.

After that I visited Haiti on a regular basis until I moved from Florida to Nevada in late 2007. For a while, I forgot about Haiti…and then came the earthquake of January 2010. With a heavy heart I asked my Bishop, Dan Edwards, if I could resume my Haiti mission work. He, of course, said, “yes.”

After a few months of research and connecting with old friends, I traveled to Haiti in August of 2010 – seven months post-earthquake. This time I was representing the Diocese of Nevada. Our diocese had been invited by the Diocese of Haiti to partner with a small church and school in the Leogane area – St. Luc’s, Mercerie.

I will never forget that August trip. Haiti was hot and steamy as only Haiti can be. Port au Prince and its surrounding streets were jammed and impassable as only the streets of Haiti can be. But, completely different --- Haiti itself was a disaster area; a disaster area as none other that I had ever seen. It was a country broken beyond belief.

All the pictures that I had seen in the media…all the stories that I had read in various publications --- totally inadequate. The scope of the damage to buildings, roads, and people was huge – unbelievably huge! Rubble and garbage were everywhere; people living in torn and dirty tents were everywhere. No matter where you went, there was no escaping the human pain, the dust generated by hundreds of crushed concrete buildings, and the disaster of a nation whose infrastructure had been destroyed.

Think of it -- 250,000 people dead, and, just in Port au Prince alone, more than a million people living in pup tents or blue tarp shacks - tents and shacks that had been randomly placed and were now permanent fixtures amidst the garbage, the dust, the rain, and the rubble. This massive destruction continued along the 30 mile road to Leogane; and in Leogane itself, where over 97% of the buildings had been destroyed, I witnessed even greater chaos and confusion.

I returned to Nevada completely overwhelmed. Where to start…what to do…could anything be done, especially from so great a distance? Who was I, a mere deacon in the Episcopal Church, thousands of miles and two times zones distant from my brothers and sisters in Leogane, Haiti?

Well, as you get to know me over the coming months, you will see that, if nothing else, I am passionately committed, through my baptismal covenant and in my call as a deacon to embody the meeting place of the church and the world. My call is to a life of service, particularly to the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely. My call is to bring the healing love of Christ into a broken and hurting world; to, at all times, in my life, teaching, and worship affirm through word and deed that in serving Christ’s people we are serving Christ himself; to at all times strive for peace and justice of all people, and the dignity of every human being.

So, upon my return from Haiti in August 2010, it was pretty much of a no-brainer for me to see clearly, or as Paul said, to see with the eyes of my heart, that God had put some of his spirit on me with regard to Haiti. I had been sent to Haiti, and I was being called to serve in Haiti.

Today we have heard, in both the Old Testament passage from Numbers and in our Gospel reading from Mark, how critical it is, for each and every one of us, to recognize our call from God – that placing of his spirit on us. God’s call is for all his people. You don’t have to be ordained to be called; there are no special clubs, boards of directors, or organizations that you have to belong to be called by God. God calls all of us. He calls us through our baptismal covenant and through the Eucharist to carry forth his mission of reconciliation.

The central element of God’s mission, the missio Dei, is God’s desire to restore to unity that which has become broken; to reconcile a divided world. The whole of Hebrew Scripture is the telling and retelling of the quest for relationship between God and God’s chosen people. God’s covenant with the Jews was not, however an exclusive arrangement; it was intended for all of humanity, a light to all the nations. The prophets, especially the servant songs of Isaiah, testify to this calling. In Isaiah 42 God says to his chosen people:

“I am the Lord I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.” (Is. 42:6-7)

And again in Isaiah 49:

“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the preserved of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (Is. 49:6)

In our Old Testament reading from Numbers we heard the story of Eldad and Medad. As they stood in the wilderness, outside the tent in the Sinai desert, Eldad and Medad felt their call even though they were not among the seventy elders who had been summoned into the tent in which the Lord’s Spirit had descended. They were “outsiders,” but they understood their call to prophesy – to lead - and Moses said to those who complained about them as “outsiders,” “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them.” (Num 11:29-30)  

Our take away lesson for the here and now - Be ready to listen to the small voice of the Spirit speaking in your heart, and be willing to share what God tells you to share.

In Jesus, God created a New Covenant, a new means by which all the world could be joined to the Creator. Jesus was sent into the world to be the way, the truth, and the life. His mission was God’s mission. Jesus demonstrated in word and deed that the Reign of God, made real in the sending of God’s son, must continue to expand, to move to the ends of the earth. In John’s Gospel Jesus proclaims, “As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” (Jn 17:118)

In today’s reading from Mark, the disciples complain to Jesus that an “outsider” was casting out demons in his name. Jesus said to them, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” (Mk 9:39-41)  Jesus reminds his disciples that prophesying, proclaiming the Good News, is not just for a few select chosen ones. Proclaiming the Good News is the mission that God has given to us all – even the most lowly and insignificant.

Our take away lesson for the here and now - Be ready to listen to the small voice of the Spirit speaking in your heart, and be willing to share what God tells you to share.

At some point, or points, in our lives we have all felt the passion and the conviction that comes from being touched, being called, by the God’s Spirit. Our call may have been related to teaching, feeding, healing, serving – any number of activities. But, at one time or another, the spirit has been “upon us” and, when that happened we knew, in our hearts and in our souls – just as I did upon my return from Haiti in August 2010 -  we knew that we had been called to act; that God expected nothing less of us.

As a people of God we are commissioned through our baptismal vows to worship, forgive, proclaim, serve, and seek justice for all. There is not one aspect of these five vows that is more important than any other. Each of these five vows have their profoundly missiological imperative. Each has a role to play in God’s mission to restore unity to that which has become broken; to reconcile a divided world. God’s mission then becomes our mission.

In a lecture given in 2002 called “A Theology and Ecclesiology For Mission,  Bishop Ian T. Douglas concludes his remarks in saying,”

The mark of mission, however, is not defined by activity or geographic locations or holy orders, but rather by the process of crossing frontiers from the known to the unknown, from the safe to the dangerous, from the comfortable to the uncomfortable. Mission thus involves risk. It means risking oneself, one’s control. And, ultimately one’s faith. Discovering God anew in those who are radically different and in unforeseen places is at the heart of mission. Moving beyond parochialism in lives of worship, forgiveness, proclamation, service, and justice making, the baptized risk themselves for the sake of God’s reconciled creation. The work of the ordained, whether as mission leader, mission interpreter, or mission motivator, is to lead, support, and catalyze God’s people as they seek to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.”

 Once we have felt the burning touch of the spirit; once our hearts have been filled with fire and we are driven by the desire to fulfill our call, we must, as Paul says so beautifully and so powerfully in his Letter to the Ephesians:

…take up the whole armour of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. ¹⁴Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. ¹⁵As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. ¹⁶With all of these,^* take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.    AMEN

When the Going Gets Rough...Keep the Faith

Sermon

When the Going Gets Rough…Keep the Faith

John 6:24-35

Sunday, August 5, 2012

As many of you know, I recently moved back to Florida after a very brief four and one-half years in Nevada.

When you all think of Nevada you probably think of Las Vegas, or perhaps Reno. Bright lights, busy gambling casinos, sequin adorned show girls, and lots of high rollers.

Well, that’s not the Nevada I knew. My home was in Pahrump – a Native American word that means “water stone,” or “great spring.” Pahrump, with its 27,000 residents, rests in a flat desert plateau surrounded by some of the highest mountains in the United States. This un-incorporated, truly “wild west” town is the largest in Nye County, an 18,000 square mile area of mountainous desert that is home to Area 51, the Tonopah Test Site and Creech Air Force Base, the site where our nation’s drone missile program is headquartered.

Nye County is rural – 1.3 residents per square mile. It is the poorest county in the nation, with the highest rate of unemployment in the nation. The temperature can plunge to 20 degrees in the winter, and hovers at 110 degrees from May until the end of October. Winds coming down from the mountains averaging 35-50 miles per hour are a common occurrence. All in all a harsh climate in a harsh environment.

When I first arrived in Pahrump all I could think of was the American Pioneers, who migrated west to seek a better life between 1776 and 1890. They settled and developed new areas of this country, establishing farms and ranches that were to feed the nation for many years to come.

I envisioned these seekers struggling to find a safe path across treacherous desert terrain in primitive wooden wagons with a minimum of protection from the wind, the rain, the snow, and the extreme temperatures. Standing in my desert backyard, just several yards from a solid and well-built, air-conditioned and heated dwelling, I wondered “How on earth did they do it? It does not seem possible that anyone would have the strength, courage or endurance to live such a difficult and treacherous life, or to embark on a journey so filled with danger and the unknown.”

It was then that I began to see the desert and desert life in an entirely new light. Moving to the desert was not the glamorous and scenic adventure that I had imagined it would be when I first left Florida. Rather, it was an encounter with an incredibly stark but beautiful primitive environment – an environment in which God’s presence cannot go undetected.

In the desert, God’s presence is everywhere. The intense, limitless blue of the sky; the ragged glory of mountain peaks and volcanic flumes; the miles upon miles of undisturbed sand and sage brush; and, the deep spring-fed pools filled with pupfish, a species that is the last known survivor of a fish species that lived in Lake Manly, which dried up at the end of the last ice age and is now called Death Valley.

Increasingly, the opening verses of Genesis ran through my mind: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” (Gen 1: 1-3)  

My encounter with the desert also brought each and every Scripture story into sharp relief. Living in the desert, I came to see and understand in a new and vividly real way the journey of the Israelites from Egypt to the Promised Land, the struggles of the Israelites over the years, and the land of the prophets. I imagined Jesus struggling with the desert elements as he carried out his ministry throughout Galilee and all of Jerusalem. I developed a new appreciation for the astounding courage and endurance of St. Paul as he traveled thousands of miles to spread the Good News.

The desert became, for me, symbolic of man’s struggle with life, from the beginning of time, a struggle conducted in many ways and in many places to seek a better way – a better life; a struggle filled with hardship and the unknown.  A struggle embarked on by many who seek answers and relief – a better way.

Throughout Scripture, throughout the history of the world, and throughout our own lives the theme of this struggle is played out over and over again. We find ourselves seeking a better way. We embark upon a journey of change. All too frequently we become frustrated and angry when our seeking does not produce the relief that we imagined it would. Our courage and our hope fails, and we decide that it just as easy to go back to old ways rather than risk more frustration and fear – more of the unknown. In other words, our faith fails us.

Today’s Old Testament reading from Exodus describes this scenario perfectly. The Israelites have escaped from Egypt; they are in the wilderness lost and hungry. Their hope fails, and they want to go back to the life of the known; the predictable.

 ^“The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. ³The Israelites said to them, ‘If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”  (Ex. 16:2-4)

But, God, as always, was present –watching –listening –ready to offer salvation. And, so the Exodus story continues:

9 Then Moses said to Aaron, ‘Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, “Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.” ’ ¹⁰And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked towards the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. ¹¹The Lord spoke to Moses and said, ¹²‘I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, “At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.” (Ex. 16:9-13)

God saw the suffering of the Israelites and through his grace he gave them food – manna from heaven - the bread of life.

Over and over again from Genesis through the Book of Revelation we hear the same message. Draw near to the Lord – whoever comes to the Lord will never by hungry and whoever believes in the Lord will never be thirsty.

John’s Gospel message for today is no different. Jesus accuses the crowd of following him only to ensure that they will receive a good meal. He says to them, “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.”  (John 6:27) They still don’t get it – they want to know what they have to do in order to get on God’s good side. Even after Jesus tells them once again that “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent,” (John 6:29) they still demand concrete evidence. They ask Jesus, “What sign are you going to give us, so that we may see it and believe you?” (John 6:30) Jesus, once again, explains “…the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (John 6:33)

And so it goes, the scenario playing itself out time after time – from the beginning of time. We wander into the wilderness looking for a better way. We are lost. We loose hope. God sees our suffering and in his eternal compassion offers us salvation, not through works but through grace.  All we need is faith.

Today’s world is no different than any other time in history. We struggle as individuals and as communities with myriad challenges. Our church is no different. At this moment in time, literally hundreds of dedicated people and scores of well-informed committees and task forces are spending thousands of hours wandering in the desert, figuratively, in an effort to ensure that God’s grace and salvation continue to be available to those who suffer; those who are frightened and have lost hope.

Some of these dedicated spirits are saying, “Let’s go back to our old ways – it’s safer that way.” Others are saying, “No, we need to move forward; we must have faith and hope that we will achieve a goal as yet unseen.” They are remembering Paul’s words in his Letter to the Hebrews, “…faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Heb 11:1)

What does all this mean for us here at St. Paul’s and for all of our brothers and sisters in the Episcopal Church throughout our eight provinces? It means that we need to plow on and look forward, as did the Israelites, the American Pioneers and so many others before us. We need to move forward bravely through the wilderness to a new and better way of bringing the good news to those who have no hope. We must continue in faith:

·        To proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom

·        To teach, baptize and nurture new believers 

·        To respond to human need by loving service 

·        To seek to transform unjust structures of society 

·        To strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth

In a sermon given about one month following the destruction of the World Trade Center by Al Qaida, William Sloane Coffin, an American liberal Christian clergyman and long-time peace activist, said:

Being optimistic is hard, of course…But let us remember how bleak the scene, how dismal the future to the eyes of Habakkuk, who still went on to say, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation.” He understood that God’s grace wends it redemptive way through the disorders of the world and that religious folk must keep the faith, despite the evidence, knowing that only in so doing has the evidence any chance of changing.”  

“…religious folk must keep the faith, despite the evidence, knowing that only in so doing has the evidence any chance of changing.”  A powerful thought.

So, my friends let us not loose heart. Let us press on in faith, through the wilderness times of our lives, through the wilderness of our mission as Christ’s disciples, knowing that God is with us always.

“The same great power that moves the stars, that orders the seas and sets the winds in motion, that gives birth to all that lives and makes the Moon rise in pale beauty, this same power stands by your side. You need never fear. You need never doubt. The One who designed all sees you, knows your name, and loves you with a love as deep as love can find.”

                                    Steven Charleston, Hope As Old As Fire” p.90