Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Authority & Healing

 

SERMON

January 28, 2024 - Mark 1:21-28

When Fr. Blake invited me to be with you all today, he said “It will be good to hear a deacon preach at St. Jude’s.” Then he added, “And it will be wonderful to have the presence of a woman at our altar as well.”

I am flattered by so generous an invitation and honored to be here with you today as we install the St. Jude’s Daughter of the King’s new members.

Congratulations to all of you for being a part of this incredibly important ministry.

Today, I speak to you as the voice of a deacon, not necessarily from a woman’s point of view, but from the point of view of one called by God to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ and one committed to stiving for justice and peace among all people.

Today I speak to you as one who has been called by God to the vocation of a deacon, ordained 14 years ago by the Rt. Rev. Dan Edwards, now retired Bishop of Nevada. On that sacred day, as Bishop Dan lay hands on me, I vowed to make Christ and his redemptive love known, by word and example to those among whom I live, work, and worship, and I vowed to interpret to the Church the needs, concerns, and hopes of the world.

I can assure you that back in 2010 on the day of my ordination I had no idea what that call would entail. No idea at all.

Since that day many years ago I have experienced an incredibly spiritual journey. A powerful journey in which the compelling voice of Christ and the continual presence of God’s love have reinforced, strengthened, and informed a call that is quite challenging. A call sanctioned and empowered by God to be an icon illuminating Christ as a model of love, compassion, and healing. A call to be a bridge between the church and the world. And a call to act as a prophetic voice that leads the church forth into a troubled world as God’s mission in Christ. 

That is my call as a deacon.

All that leads me to say that today’s gospel is one of my favorites. It may be only the briefest of stories but it is a story that is immensely exciting to me because it points to specific ways in which not only I but all of us are called to be the voice of Christ in this complex and much troubled world.

For me this passage from Mark contains two key words, “authority” and “healing.” As Christians, we have been commanded to go forth into the world and to make disciples of all nations That command mandates that in our work as disciples of Christ we speak with authority. We speak of the Good News brought to us through the incarnation, the crucifixion, and the resurrection with authority. We speak of God’s love for each and every one of us with authority. We speak of Jesus as our savior with confidence and conviction, with authority.

And our speaking with authority leads to healing. Our confident words and our compassionate love of neighbor mirror God’s love for all his beloved children. Our confident words speak to the grace that God’s love pours out onto us. Love that fills our hearts and minds to the point of overflowing and then spills over to others, enfolds others, in that same God love.

With the authority given us by Christ to go forth into the world we offer the world the blessing of healing. The authority given us by Christ offers release from the power of fear and isolation; healing of mind, body, and spirit. The authority given us by Christ is the pathway to peace. God’s peace that passes all understanding.

Today’s gospel story begins as Jesus enters the synagogue at Capernaum and begins to teach. But to the surprise of all he doesn’t teach as a beginner rabbi, rather he teaches “with authority.” The scribes, who were often interpreters of the law in the ancient world, were probably present to criticize and humiliate Jesus. But instead they were astounded by the way in which he was teaching. They were astounded that this young upstart was teaching them with great authority. He actually knew as much, if not more than the scribes.

And then, in the midst of Jesus’ teaching a man with an unclean spirit enters the synagogue, disrupts the discussion, and loudly confronts Jesus. The man says “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” Unfazed Jesus looks directly at the man and with authority says, “Be silent and come out of him!” Immediately an unclean spirit, convulsing, and crying out with a loud voice came out of him and everyone was amazed. 

The scribes wondered aloud, “What is this? A new teaching – with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” The people were also amazed by the authority with which Jesus spoke. Quickly they went out into the surrounding community and conveyed this astonishing tale of healing to all they encountered.

The good news, the gospel of Jesus Christ, spread like wildfire.

Teaching, preaching, confronting, proclaiming the Good News of the Kingdom of heaven, of God’s loving and forgiving presence with us now at this very time, in this very place, all this delivered with a voice of authority, that is the hallmark of Jesus’ time with us. And as Christ’s disciples, extensions of God’s mission in the world those same tasks have been given to us. Given to us to proclaim with the voice of authority.

As Christ’s disciples we have been given the mandate to speak of God’s love and forgiveness with a voice of authority; with a voice that astounds. A voice that makes clear the universality of God’s incredible love. A love that extends to all no matter what ethnicity. No matter what skin color. No matter what language is spoken. No matter what sexual orientation. No matter what economic status. A powerful love that is so desperately needed if we are to heal this troubled world. A world overwhelmed by poverty, hunger, racism, terrorism, war, and the dangerous divisiveness of political struggles.

Our voice of authority is powerful. It enables us to bring the good news of the church, God’s mission in the world, to all. It allows us to heal.

Of course, it’s no secret, being the voice of Christ and speaking with authority is no easy task. One does not need to be ordained clergy to discover that hard reality. Skepticism and rejection are just around every corner. Yet, there is no getting off the hook. Bishops, priests, deacons, and you – yes you – all of us are members of the body of Christ anointed through baptism to carry out God’s mission in the world. A mission that if carried out with authority brings healing.

And in view of the fact that I am a deacon you might ask: “What about deacons? How did they come into the picture? Are they in any way different from priests?”

Well, if you remember your study of the Book of Acts you will recall that quite soon after the ascension of Jesus the apostles appointed seven deacons to go out into the community and tend to the needs of the poor, while they, the apostles, stayed at home to pray and lead the community in worship. You might also remember that Stephen, the very first deacon to be appointed, was so vigorous and effective with his voice of authority that he was stoned to death!

I believe that his death is a metaphor for just how challenging and yes, at times dangerous, the life of a true disciple can actually be. Speaking with the authority of Christ is not always appreciated by those who seek to retain power and control, frequently to the detriment of the general community.

At their ordination deacons vow to act as a prophetic voice that leads the church forth into a troubled world as God’s mission in Christ. A prophetic voice that confronts evil and leads the way to the building of God’s kingdom among those who suffer.

This means that deacons are the point people scoping out the territory, getting a feel for who needs what. Assessing the challenges. Meeting the people where they are and creating what might be called a basecamp for those who will follow as workers on this new missional project.

The work of the deacon is to be on the edge and to slowly bring the edge into the middle. Your work, my friends, is to cross the threshold created by the deacon and to walk through the door that has been opened. An opened door that allows the light of Christ, God’s love for all his beloved children, to initiate the healing process and slowly and gently bring those on the edge to the middle. The middle where God’s eternal Kingdom reigns and peace prevails. 

And this finally brings me full circle to the Daughters of the King. In your Service of Admission, you vowed to obey faithfully the Two Rules of the Order, The Rule of Prayer, and the Rule of Service. To offer your support to the clergy for the good of the parish and the extension of Christ’s kingdom. Your mission through prayer and service is to support the extension of Christ’s kingdom.

You vow to pray regularly and with the deepest faith imaginable for the well-being of all those in your congregation and all those in the world who go forth in the name of Christ, with authority. Who go forth to bring about the healing of the world.

That my friends is a big job, and it is a job that is of critical importance. It is a job that you have vowed to take on from now forward. A job that will take you to many places, on many adventures. Some most wonderful and some so very sad and painful. But you do it all for our Savior Jesus Christ.

Let us pray:

Dear Jesus, help me to spread Thy fragrance everywhere I go. Flood my soul with Thy spirit and love. Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly that all my life may only be a radiance of Thine. Shine through me and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Thy presence in my soul. Let them look up and see no longer me but only Jesus. Stay with me and then I shall begin to shine as you shine, so to shine as to be a light to others. AMEN

 

 

 

 

Monday, January 1, 2024

The Man in Black

 

SERMON

John 1:1-18

December 31, 2023 

Well, you wonder why I always dress in black
Why you never see bright colors on my back
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on 

… I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime
But is there because he's a victim of the times 

… I wear the black for those who've never read
Or listened to the words that Jesus said
About the road to happiness through love and charity
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me 

… I wear it for the sick and lonely old
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men 

You'll never see me wear a suit of white

“The Man in Black” was written and recorded by singer-songwriter Johnny Cash in 1971. The lyrics of the song were intended as a protest against the treatment of the poor by wealthy politicians, the mass incarceration of the marginalized, and the tragedy of the Vietnam War. Fifty-two years later Cash’s words are still filled with relevance in the face of a world that is beset by unending suffering of the poor and the oppressed, the detention and rejection of men, women, and children yearning to find refuge and a new home in places that offer safety and hope, and the increasing terror of violence and war.

The need for a “Man in Black” persists.

Of course, the man in black represents the Light of Christ. A light that embodies God’s message intended for all. A light brought to us through the incarnation, the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. A light that proclaims an unending message of hope and peace. 

The light of Christ is an extraordinary light. And whether we know it or not it is also a light that shines in each and every one of our hearts. It is God’s gift of light given to us at birth.

If only we realized the stunning importance of that light that shines deep within us. If only we felt called to shine our gift of light brightly to all we encounter. If only through the gift of our light we could become angels, messengers, of hope and peace. If only we could use our light to be “the man in black.”

Thomas Merton powerfully recounts finding this light that shines within us all in his book “Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander.” In one of its many reflective passages he writes, “In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers.”

Later in the same passage he writes, “Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts…the person that each one is in God’s eyes…At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin, by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God…this little point…is the pure glory of God in us…it is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven…it is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together…that would make all the cruelty of life vanish completely.”

Merton’s point of nothingness, a pure diamond blazing with the invisible light of heaven, and Johnny Cash’s man in black embody an identical message. We are all called to bring the Light of Christ into a world that is torn asunder by poverty, violence, terrorism, and war. 

Both Merton and Cash, each brilliant in their own way, each gifted in a uniquely powerful medium, boldly express the power that Christ’s light can have as it shines from that little point in our hearts, from that pure glory of God, into the lives of those who are suffering and oppressed. Their message to us is clear; we are all called to bring forth from our hearts the light of Christ. We are all called to be the Man in Black. We are all called to be one among a billion points of light. We are all called to heal a hurting world. 

In today’s collect we pray: Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light enkindled in our hearts, may shine through in our lives.

And then, in the exquisite opening hymn of John’s gospel, we hear the words “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…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.”

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” God’s promise that the darkness need not and indeed will not overcome because through the incarnation, the light created by God at the beginning of time will prevail.

In Genesis 1:3 God commanded, “Let there be light;” and “…there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness.” In John’s gospel Jesus proclaims, “He who follows me will not walk in the darkness but will have the light of life” (8:12). 

Thomas Merton writes, “this little point…is the pure glory of God in us…it is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven…it is in everybody, and if we could see it, we would see these billions of points of light coming together…that would make all the cruelty of life vanish completely.”

As we approach Epiphany, we experience once again the sudden and amazing realization that in the birth of the baby Jesus God is made manifest to us.  The Christ child is God incarnate. The gift of the Christ child is the gift of God’s light made manifest to us. A light that we quickly come to realize as our light, as well. A light that has the power to separate the light from the darkness. A light that has the power to create a beam of hope that guides the world to a way of peace and love. 

Johnny Cash’s words are so important.

… Well, there's things that never will be right, I know
And things need changin' everywhere you go
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right

You'll never see me wear a suit of white. 

And so, this morning we pray:

Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light enkindled in our hearts, may shine through in our lives. AMEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here I am

 

SERMON

December 24, 2023

Luke 1:26-38 

Over the past few weeks, I have participated in several Zoom meetings with the Archbishop of Jerusalem and the diocesan clergy who are serving churches in Ramallah and Nablus on the West Bank. The meetings, organized by the Episcopal Church’s Office of Government Relations, were and will continue to be, important windows into the work of that Diocese and the massive challenges its archbishop and clergy currently face as they continue to serve their congregations and community in the midst of war. 

These Zoom calls have been heart wrenching. Fr. Fadi, rector of St. Andrew’s in Ramallah, reported that the terror and profound grief experienced throughout the West Bank have left all of its citizens “in shock” and in the midst of a deep economic and spiritual crisis. Fr. Fadi’s parishioners wonder aloud in the midst of their prayers for peace, “Why is God silent.” Tears and terror are ongoing, unceasing throughout both day and night.

Fr. Jameel in Nablus reported that his congregation members and indeed the entire community of Nablus insist that “We all need hope”, but then quickly add, “Is there really any hope?” 

By the end of each of these Zoom calls we on the U.S. side have been left speechless and desperately seeking ways in which to reach out to these brothers and sisters, all members of the Anglican Communion. All God’s beloved children. These calls have been, and I am certain will continue to be incredibly painful and profoundly tragic experiences.

Despite the grim reality of their war-torn world, however, Frs. Fadi and Jameel along with their parishioners continue to express a fundamentally deep faith and commitment to Jesus Christ. They display, even in the face of such shockingly grim circumstances, a commitment to Christ that is most incredibly moving.

This deep faith and commitment to Christ was emotionally expressed by Fr. Jameel when he responded to the interviewer’s question, “Will you all want to relocate when it is possible?” saying “No, we will never move. We cannot desert this Holy Land. We cannot abandon Jesus. God is asking us to stay here.”

“We cannot abandon Jesus. God is asking us to stay here.” Very, very powerful words that can only stem from the courage, resilience, and commitment that is based on an extraordinary faith in God’s heavenly kingdom. 

Today we hear the incredibly beautiful and quite wondrous story of a young teenager’s life changed forever by the appearance of the Angel Gabriel. Can you imagine how frightened this innocent unmarried young woman must have been? In a flash her simple and settled life was filled with the unknown. Luke tells us that initially Mary was perplexed. She was stunned and bewildered. Who is this apparition? What is happening to me?

The apparition, the Angel Gabriel, understands Mary’s distress and offers calming words, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” The angel announces that Mary will now become pregnant. That her child will be a son. That he is to be named Jesus and that he is to be called the Son of the Most High. That he will reign over a kingdom. A kingdom that will have no end.

Mary, still perplexed, wonders aloud, “How can this be for I am still a virgin.” The angel responds, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy.”

Can you imagine how frightened and confused this young girl must have been? How terrifying for an apparition to inform you that God will send the Holy Spirit to come you and that as a result you will become pregnant. No marriage. No father. Just a baby who is destined to be, according to the apparition the Son of God; the Lord of a kingdom that will know no end.

What if an ancient interviewer had asked Mary, “Will you leave this place? Would you prefer to escape from this terrifying new reality that has become your life?” Mary, still perplexed, overwhelmed would have answered, “No. Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be according to [his] word. 

“Here I am, the servant of the Lord.” Mary’s commitment to God in this one brief sentence echoes the words of so many others tested by God throughout biblical history; Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, Moses, Hannah, Samuel, David, Esther, and the Prophets to name just a few, and now most certainly the clergy in the Diocese of Jerusalem.  Men and women chosen by God to ensure that his Holy Word, will be a continual presence throughout creation. Men and women who face perplexing, confusing, terrifying situations with courageous faith saying, God is asking us to stay here. God is asking us to ensure that his kingdom will know no end.

Mary’s obedience to God’s call should act as a hallmark for us Christians, the present-day stewards of Christ’s good news, the present-day heralds of God’s desire for us all to live a life filled with peace and love of self and neighbor, now and to the end of time.

Mary’s overcoming the apprehension, perhaps downright terror, at the sudden appearance of the Angel Gabriel and the announcement of her immanent pregnancy, her soon to be motherhood of a holy child despite her virgin status, is a model for those of us who are prayerfully striving to welcome God’s angel into the life of the St. Simon’s congregation, to hear his/her command for us.

And, once that commandment is heard, most assuredly in wonderment and fear of a journey into the unknown, will we as Mary say, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be according to [his] word?” Will we have the courage to act on God’s call for us as we enter a new year which promises to be filled with, as yet, many unidentified challenges?

The Jerusalem clergy’s commitment to courage, presence, and leadership in listening to and hearing in their hearts God’s call to remain in the Holy Land despite the anxiety and fear that was clearly visible in the recent Zoom calls. The continual prayer and commitment to Jesus Christ and his gospel of love demonstrated by their many congregation and community members despite the ongoing terror, death, and grief that is now a part of their 24/7 war-torn lives, these also are, most assuredly, models for those of us who question the challenges that God is commanding St. Simon’s to face at this moment in time. Will we in the face of such disruptive challenges say, “Here I am Lord; let it be according to your word?” 

This morning we arrive at the close of Advent. Four weeks of prayer and reflection during which we anticipated the arrival, once more, of the Christ child, the Son of the Holy One. This evening our period of anticipation ends, and we will joyfully celebrate the incarnation of God’s Word, Jesus Christ, who will walk with and among us throughout our journey with him to Jerusalem, to the cross, and beyond.

In celebration we will sing many beautiful hymns filled with words of wonder and praise. The service will end, as always, with the 205-year-old hymn Silent Night. As we sing this final hymn, we will light our individual candles in a darkened nave. The candles, of course, represent the Light of Christ. By lighting them we are committing to bring the Light of Christ into the world.

Silent Night, holy night, Son of God, loves pure light radiant beams from thy holy face with the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus, Lord at thy birth, Jesus, Lord at thy birth.

Tonight, as our candles shine in the darkness let us pray that we will continue, as God’s community at St. Simon’s, to seek his command of how best to be the radiant beams of Christ’s holy face, the Light of Christ in the world. How we will face and overcome the challenges of taking our candles, our little stars of light, out of these four walls and into the community?

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that, if I do this,
You will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore I will trust you always
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Thomas Merton