MONDAY OF HOLY WEEK - April 6, 2020

There is so much to say about this first day of Holy Week, April 6, 2020. Perhaps, most importantly: It is for us as disciples of Christ the first time, in my lifetime anyway, that we are truly walking with Christ to the cross. It is the first time that we are in the very same situation as Jesus’ disciples were those thousands of years ago, as they listened to their teacher speak of his impending death. As they wondered what was to become of them. As they were asked to stay by Jesus’ side as he suffered, as he died, as they were faced with a future that was completely unknown.

We, just like the disciples have questions to which there are no answers. We hear predictions of deaths that exceed comprehension. We are experiencing varying levels of anxiety, fear, loneliness, and anticipatory grief. Yet, we are compelled to go forward in this walk to the cross, this walk through the coronavirus Covid-19 pandemic, our eyes on Jesus, our hearts and souls filled with faith, not just hoping, but believing that Christ as our savior will bring us to a point of resurrection – a time when we can stand before an empty tomb and experience not only Christ’s resurrection, but also the end of a pandemic that has shaken the comfort and predictability of our world, but I pray, not our faith.

In these past two weeks of what we are calling social isolation I have explored countless articles and videos that relate to this Covid reality into which we all have been plunged. I have also spent time recalling times in my life that were in ways similar. Obviously, the Spanish Influenza pandemic of 1918 has the most similarities to the worldwide mounting death toll from the Covid virus. No one is exempt. No one is assured safety. Many will die.

I was not there for that pandemic, but I was on the front lines of the battle to bring social acceptance and medical care to people living with HIV/AIDS. If, like me, you were living in New York City or San Francisco at that time you will remember that people were dying painfully and quickly. By 1980 approximately 300,000 cases worldwide of the, yet, unnamed virus were reported. The number of deaths in the U.S. was staggering.

In both of these pandemics, and in this current pandemic, a major concern was and is that of isolation - loss of social contact with the other. Videoconferencing, Facetiming and other Internet-based forms of communication are critically important, but they do not substitute for handshakes, hugs, pats on the back, kisses, or, just being with the other. They do not substitute for bedside ministry to the sick and the dying. They do not substitute for presence with those who are grieving. They do not substitute for offering love to one another as we gather in church, in community, in all of life’s situations.

So, I ask you this evening to consider the image of Mary rubbing fragrant oil into Jesus’ feet as he prepared to embark on his final entry into Jerusalem. Consider that image carefully in your mind. Consider that human contact. Consider that love. Consider what that love meant to Jesus.

If you can, breath in that image of love offered by Mary to Jesus. Let it fill your heart and your soul. Imagine that love as Christ within you. Breath deeply, slowly, and let that love expressed in the anointing of Jesus’ feet pervade your being and carry you through each hour of every day as we await the resurrection of Christ – as we await relief from Covid-19.

After the danger of infection from the Spanish Flu had passed researchers found that many people found it very difficult to reintegrate into society. Many continued to be suspicious of disease. Some had been emotionally traumatized by the event and by their prolonged social isolation.

It took years for society to accept the modern lepers, as they were known; those living with HIV/AIDS. Indeed, it was a full 10 years until these patients were accepted into the day-to-day healthcare system. Many, if not all suffered emotionally and physically from their rejection by and isolation from society.

Certainly, God does not want that outcome for us. He wants us to walk through this week in love and faith. He wants us to live into every moment of Christ’s journey with new eyes, new ears, a new perspective. He wants us to experience the joy of the resurrection knowing that Christ is risen and that we are loved forever. He wants us to hold tight to that love – not forget it.

And, when we emerge from our current social isolation God wants us to live into that love in a new way. A way that mirrors Mary’s love for Jesus as she anointed his feet with fragrant oil. A new way that rejoices and fulfills God’s love for the world; for us; for all of us – everywhere; every place; worldwide.

Clelia'sConversations: The Valley of Dry Bones

Clelia'sConversations: The Valley of Dry Bones: The Valley of Dry Bones Ezekiel 37:1-14 Tonopah, Nevada, l ocated approximately 400 miles northwest of Las Vegas, is a historic to...

The Valley of Dry Bones

The Valley of Dry Bones

Ezekiel 37:1-14

Tonopah, Nevada, located approximately 400 miles northwest of Las Vegas, is a historic town on the northwestern edge of Nevada. Current population approximately 2,400. Summers in Tonopah are spectacular, but very hot. However, the high desert assures that by nightfall the evening temperature drops significantly, bringing good sleeping weather after the long, hot days. Winters are brutal with high winds, snow and temperatures in the 20s.

In the early 1900s, Tonopah was the site of one of the most spectacular silver mining booms in the West. It began on May 19, 1900, when an itinerant miner named Jim Butler accidentally stumbled upon the second richest silver strike in Nevada history.

News of the discovery traveled quickly, and soon prospectors were coming from all over to search the area. By the summer of 1901, the mines around the town had produced about $750,000 worth of gold and silver, about $23 million in today’s economy.

By 1907, Tonopah was a large city with modern hotels, electric and water companies, five banks, multiple schools, and many other buildings and businesses. From 1900 to 1921, the ore produced by Tonopah’s mines was worth nearly $121 million, or approximately $3.5 billion in today’s currency.

By 1906 the initial boom was past, and by the end of World War II, all the mines were closed. Today, Tonopah is a ghost town. Rotting mining camps and miner’s shacks are visible throughout the entire Tonopah Valley area – empty shells, just like dried bones on the desert floor.

I lived in Nevada for five years in the early 2000s. My company had a satellite office in Tonopah, and I drove there regularly. The drive from my home through the desert was a long four hours during which I passed through smaller mining camps, also abandoned long ago. As I drove along, I often compared the barren and deserted mining camps to the robust Las Vegas Strip with its overflowing hotels and casinos – a different type of mining boom.

I often wondered if the Strip would ever revert to its former self - a desert filled with abandoned, rotting hotels and casinos. Was the Strip just a modern-day iteration of Tonopah’s booming mines?

Enter the coronavirus, COVID-19, and the massive nationwide effort to maintain social distancing and to self-isolate to the greatest degree possible. Fast forward to the now empty Las Vegas hotels and casinos. All the restaurants and businesses on the Strip are closed. All meetings, events, conferences, and shows scheduled to fill the hundreds of thousands of Las Vegas hotel rooms have been cancelled. All the elegant meeting rooms, the  sexy and busy gaming tables, and the city’s financial coffers are empty. Welcome to a new Tonopah.

We have now entered a time in which our “normal” way of life must be abandoned. We are precipitously cast into the unknown. Figuratively speaking, this is a time of exile, in which we will have to adapt to a new reality and way of being, as yet unknown. A time in which we will become companions with so many others throughout the world who have already suffered the loss of life as they knew it.

These days I find myself wondering, is the transformation from riches to scarcity in Tonopah, in Las Vegas, and throughout the world, cyclical? At some point, do even the most spectacular of riches inevitably become dry bones, skeletons of their former selves, lying on the desert floor or in an abandoned neighborhood or in a war-torn country.

In the gospel reading for this coming Sunday the Prophet Ezekiel prophesies about a valley full of bones – dry bones. God said to Ezekiel, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones hear the word of the Lord. Thus, says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:4-6)

Ezekiel prophesied as he had been commanded by the Lord, and suddenly the bones came together, developed muscle, were covered with flesh, and filled with breath. As the breath came into them, they lived, and they stood on their feet. A vast multitude of them were resurrected and filled with the Spirit of the Lord.

And then the Lord God commanded Ezekiel to say to those who had believed that their bones were dried up and that all was lost, “...I will open your graves, and bring you up from you graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and you shall live on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act.” (Ezekiel 37:9-14)

The historical context of Ezekiel’s prophesy is important to understand. The sovereignty of the Judean kingdom in the land of Israel came to an abrupt end with the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of its leading citizens to Babylon in 586 B.C.E.  Judah’s elite, its scholars, and almost all skilled laborers were exiled to the Northern Assyrian Empire where they were prohibited from observing their faith and where they were exposed to other religions.

Some retained their observance of Judaic Law in secret. Others, influenced by their new neighbors, allowed themselves to modify observances. In the end, some returned to Israel, and others didn’t, happy in their adoptive home.

The Ezekiel prophesy and today’s Gospel reading from John, the raising of Lazarus from the dead (John11:1-45), are both precursors to the resurrection story. Those who have died but live in Christ will be saved – resurrected. Dry bones will become whole and healthy once more. The trick is to live in Christ; to have faith; to have hope; and to observe the great commandments. Love your neighbor as yourself and love God with all your heart, mind, and soul.

For many this will be a time when faith falls away. For some, faith will be used as a tool to get through each day. For still others faith will hold its breath as we “wait and see” what the next period of time brings. Some will return to their spiritual homeland untouched; others will stray into other ways of being.

One thing we do know: There will be a resurrection. God will be there with us every step of the way as we pull together and pull through. He will take us to the cross and beyond. The big question for us all is, are we listening? Are we watching? Are we seeking to live in Christ? Will we recognize the resurrection when it occurs? Or will we walk away in blindness?

Our Vocaction

Sermon

Third Sunday after Epiphany

Matthew 4:12-23

Today, we enter into Matthew’s version of Jesus’ very early ministry. If you recall, just preceding today’s reading, Jesus had arrived in Nazareth fresh from his baptism in the River Jordan and his 40 days in the wilderness, where he had been approached by a tempter multiple times. Over and over the tempter offered Jesus power and glory, and over and over Jesus rebuffed his tempter and proclaimed God as his Lord - his only Lord.

Finally, the tempter disappeared, and angels came and waited on Jesus. It was time for his journey into the wilderness to come to an end. It was time for him to proclaim the good news of God's Kingdom to the world.

In today's gospel reading, we join Jesus as he emerged from that wilderness experience and journeyed from Nazareth to Capernaum in Galilee, where walking along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, proclaiming, "Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven has come near," he began to recruit disciples. Simon, who would be called Peter, and his brother Andrew were his first choices. As soon as he saw them, Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”

Intrigued, they dropped their fishing nets and followed Jesus. Soon Jesus came upon, James, son of Zebedee, and his brother John. He called them as well and immediately they left the boat they were working on with their father and followed Jesus.

Jesus was fishing for people and catching them, and he had begun the process of asking others to do so as well. "Follow me and I will make you fish for people," Jesus says to Andrew and Simon Peter.

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people”

Does this command have a familiar ring for you? It should. It is just another way of expressing the Great Commission, Jesus’ final command to his disciples found in this very same gospel. I know you are familiar the Great Commission - perhaps you even know it by heart.

 “All authority has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt 28:18-20)

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”

Increasingly, as I study Scripture I see that every parable spoken and every healing and sign performed by Jesus - in any of the four gospels - all of Jesus’ words and actions - all of them - are intended to alert us to the fact that as his disciples we are called to be evangelists. Our vocation is to go forth – to proclaim the good news - to fish for people – to make disciples of all nations.

To be sure, this vocation to go forth is a challenging one, but it is vocation that is mandatory if we are to claim that our lives are centered in Christ. It is a vocation that is both thrilling and terrifying. It is a vocation filled with ups and downs; failures that leave us frustrated, angry, anxious about the state of our world and its relationship with God; and, successes that cause our hearts to sing with joy.

But, whatever the circumstances, whatever the perceived challenges, it is a vocation in which we must engage without hesitation. It is a vocation to be engaged in not only on Sunday mornings as we sit in the pews, but also on Monday, on Tuesday, on Wednesday, on Thursday, on Friday, on Saturday – on every day – at every hour.

And when we waiver from our path, when we are filled with doubt, with anxiety, with fear, we must remember that Christ is with us – always – always - to the end of the age – and always beckoning to us and saying, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." Without ceasing he is commanding us to, "Make disciples of all nations," and at every moment of our lives he is assuring us that, "I will be with you until the end of the age."

The prophet Isaiah prophesied that the people of Galilee - a people who had walked in darkness would see a great light. Light would shine on them and they would experience increased joy and relief from their burdens.

The psalmist sings out, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?”

In the Gospel of John Jesus says, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12)

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” – "[you] will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life- the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ."

Our vocation – our call from Christ - to go forth - to fish for people - to convey the light of Christ that illuminates the glory of God and the way of reconciliation, healing, and peace is as real today as it was 2000 years ago. Perhaps more than ever before we are called to pay attention to our vocation – to remain vigilant to distracting political and social situations that lead us down a path decidedly dismissive of our call to proclaim by word and deed the good news, all the while loving our neighbor as ourselves.

It’s a big job - a very big, quite daunting job. Perhaps it was easier back in the year 30, or 60, or 100. But, probably not.

Clearly, Jesus’ evangelism brought him a brutal death.

Certainly, many followers of Peter and Paul, indeed these two beloved disciples themselves, were put to death because they refused to cease proclaiming the gospel to all who would listen.

And, if you remember your history thousands of early Christians were fed to the lions, burned at the stake, or tortured and killed in other ways for refusing to recant their Christianity. Indeed, even today Christians in many parts of the world continue to be murdered, executed because of their refusal to recant their Christianity – their refusal to abandon God.

Time has shown us that fishing for people can be a perilous activity. And yet, many of us, indeed 2.4 billion of us throughout the world, continue to fish for people. Continue to follow the commanding sending messages proclaimed by Jesus over 2000 years ago. Think of it - 2.4 billion Christians fish for people - proclaim the gospel - each and every day.

At the moment, the church, world-wide, and most certainly the Episcopal Church here in America, is intentionally and aggressively focusing on our vocation of fishing for people. Continually we seek new ways to proclaim God's grace and healing love in a fractured post-Christian world. A world that in some instances is trying to obliterate Christianity by excluding God from public venues and critical conversations that relate to justice and peace.

Those whose way of life is based on the commandment given to us by Jesus when he said to his disciples, "I give you a new commandment, that you love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another" (John 13:34) have a tough row to hoe.

How do we fish for people? How do we bring Christ's Light into their lives?

Our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry believes - I might say with every fiber of his being - that love is the way. He says, “Think and imagine a world where love is the way. … Because when love is the way, we treat each other like we are actually family. When love is the way, we know that God is the source of us all. And we are brothers and sisters, children of God. My brothers and sisters, that’s a new Heaven, a new Earth, a new world, a new human family.”

Michael Curry believes the we fish for people by loving them. By loving our neighbors as ourselves. And, I am sure - just like me; just like Fr. David; just like clergy and laity throughout America - I am sure that you agree with Bishop Curry. Love is the way – loving your neighbor as yourself – is the way to bring God into the world and to keep Him here.

However, it is critical that we understand the love that Bishop Curry and so many others are speaking of is not a simplistic kind of love - like the kind of love you would have for a friend or loved one, such as a spouse or partner. No, it is love of a very different sort - it is the love that Jesus spoke of. It is agape love - a love that mirrors God’s love for the world. God's love for his beloved children. A love that transcends all differences.

And where does this love come from - How do we identify it - how do we cultivate it?

Thomas Merton, a theologian and mystic, wrote extensively about finding God in both ourselves and the world. In an article written after one of his mystical experiences he wrote,

“At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives… This little point of nothingness…is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak His name written 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 in the…blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely ... I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere.”

― Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander

Imagine this little point of the pure glory of God within you. A point within your soul that cannot be touched by any human sin or error. A point within you that is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of God's love – blazing with the glory of God's heaven.

Imagine feeling the power of this God within you as you go into the world fishing for people. Imagine the power of this unsullied light generated by the love of God for each and every one of us. Imagine being among those who live in darkness and shining God's light, God's love – your light; your love into their lives – into their hearts and into their souls.

Do you see what happens - do you see the other’s light begin to twinkle and then with joy shine brightly to greet you and others in the community.

Shining the light of God, that little piece within us all, automatically brings forth the light of God in the other – the light of love and joy.

Light, love, joy - that is the way to fish for people. That is the way to renew the power of God's glory into a world spiraling in darkness.

The courage to endure..

Sermon

St. Simon's on the Sound

Proper 28 – Year C

Luke 21:5-19

As complex and rather unnerving as this week's readings from Scripture may seem, I believe that they are incredibly relevant to our journey as Christians in this very troubled world. I also believe that today's readings leave no doubt about the importance of Scripture as our road map in that journey. For us as Christians, Scripture provides the theological and ethical compass that guides our journey – our way of being in the world.

Let's have a closer look at what we just heard.

Right of the bat, the Collect for the day leaves no wiggle room for a possible misinterpretation of our mandate to hold Scripture as our guide, "Blessed Lord who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may ever embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of life everlasting, which has been given us in our Savior Jesus Christ."

Hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest all holy Scriptures…. our work is cut out for us.

Next comes a lesson from the Old Testament reading.

Malachi, which means "my messenger," wrote in the fifth century B.C.E. He claimed to have received the words he spoke directly from God.

His severe warning to the Israelites – particularly the priests - should cause us to perk up our ears and listen closely.

Malachi accused the Israelites of failing to fill their newly rebuilt temple with the glory of God. Rather, he asserted, they have prioritized the intrigue and the power-hungry greed of the royal court. They have allowed these ways of being to invade the sanctity of God's house.

Malachi did not mince words, he railed against their manipulative worship, corrupt leaders, oppression of hired workers, widows, and orphans, rejection of aliens. He proclaimed that those who had turned away from God – the arrogant and the evildoers - were not acceptable to God. The day is coming, he prophesied, when all evildoers will be burned up – annihilated.

Malachi implored the Israelites to honor their covenant with God – to be faithful; to love justice; to do mercy; and to walk humbly with their God. He promised that those who did so would be blessed and those who failed to do so would be doomed.

Paul's warnings to the Thessalonians were not dissimilar from those of his ancestor, Malachi. Keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received from us, wrote Paul.

Paul knew all too well the challenges that are faced on a day-today basis for those who profess to follow the way of the Lord; for those who proclaimed Christ as their savior. He understood the need to have strength and courage – endurance – in staying true to the teachings of Jesus.

Wherever he went, and whomever he wrote to, his theme was always the same, “continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” (2nd Tim 3:14-15).

Paul, like Malachi, was a messenger of God, proclaiming the importance of becoming a living member of God's covenant with us.

Paul lived a life filled with hardship and hard work. He walked and sailed thousands of treacherous miles to preach and to teach God's Word. He sustained endless rejection and multiple floggings, and stonings. He continually wrote letters to his communicants throughout the world, sometimes building them up, encouraging them, and sometimes chastising them, always with the goal of underscoring the need to stay steady on the course of faithfulness to God.

Paul begged his beloved communities, "do not weary in doing what is right."

Like Malachi, Paul warned those who will listen about the perils that lead us on a path quite divergent from the path that God has prepared for us. The path that will lead us in love, to peace, to God's eternal kingdom.

In Luke's gospel we hear a parallel message. We hear Jesus, so very near the end of his life, once again expressing fears that his disciples do not "get it." In this particular passage, he worries that they see only the external adornment of Herod's spectacular temple – a fifteen story structure covered on all sides with massive plates of gold. Gold that in the sunlight radiates fiery flashes of light. Jesus fears that the disciples are easily distracted, tempted, and swayed by the world of power and wealth – the easy route.

Jesus warned the disciples to beware. To be bedazzled by the temple's extravagance – by wealth and power – indicates a failure to see the spiritual bankruptcy behind the golden façade – the hypocrisy – the oppression – the rejection of God and the Gospel. Jesus prophesied, "As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down." In other words, things of this world are ephemeral, short-lived. Only God's kingdom is eternal.

In the midst of proclaiming countless disasters that would befall the land, the community, and the disciples themselves, Jesus urged the disciples, "Beware that you are not led astray…do not be afraid…do not go after them." Rather, said Jesus, have courage - stand up, testify, be a witness to God's Kingdom.

He promised, "I will give you the words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict…by your endurance you will gain your souls."

By your endurance you will gain your souls – it sounds so simple, but is it really? Malachi and Paul understood that it most certainly was not. They understood that that it was far easier, very easy to be distracted by power, wealth, greed, jealousy – a whole host of ways of being that lead us far astray from God.

Jesus warned against these very same temptations, but he had no patience for the possibility of succumbing to them. He commanded his disciples – he commands us - to stand up, to witness the truth and the power of the gospel. To see beyond the glitter, the glamour, and the gold. To see beyond hypocrisy and greed. To see beyond the destructive and divisive behaviors of those who seek a life based on power and wealth. To resist the lure, the temptation to follow false gods.

Jesus commands us to go forth into the world – into difficult situations -proclaiming the gospel, with the faith that he is with us. With the assurance that the Spirit will breath into us the words and the ways of being that will support our witness in a manner so stunning that no one – no foe – will any longer have power over us.

Jesus commands us to endure – to die with him so that we may live with him. To endure so that we may gain our souls.

As I wrote this sermon, I was also reading Martin Luther King's book Strength to Love. I was shocked to learn how frightened King was most of the time. In several sermons he speaks of almost paralyzing fear of being killed and of the terror both he and his family experienced as a result of 12 jailings, continual death threats and multiple bombings of their home.

He wrote, "I must admit that at times I have felt that I could no longer bear such a heavy burden and have been tempted to retreat to a more quiet and serene life. But every time such a temptation appeared, something came to strengthen and sustain my determination. I have learned now that the Master's burden is light precisely when we take his yoke upon us."

Martin Luther King, Jr. endured. In his words, "The end of life is not to achieve pleasure and avoid pain. The end of life is to do the will of God, come what may."

All of this takes me back to the very beginning, our Collect for today:

"Blessed Lord who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may ever embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of life everlasting, which has been given us in our Savior Jesus Christ."

Today, and hopefully every day, we ask Christ for the discipline to hear, read, mark, learn and inwardly digest Scripture.

What does this Collect mean to you? How does it affect your reading of Scripture? How does it affect your daily life?

Do you hear the words of Malachi, Paul, Martin Luther King, Jr. and so many others who have chosen to inwardly digest Scripture and to, with God's help, intentionally live out their call to bring justice and peace to all people? To take up Christ's yoke.

Do you imagine yourself at Jesus' feet as he says, "Beware that you are not led astray…do not be afraid…do not go after them…endure so that you may gain your soul."?

While the TV incessantly tells us what to think – what to believe, and Facebook, Twitter, etc. shoot brief, disruptive messages at us all day, do you stay the course? Do you remain based in your understanding, your inward digestion of Scripture?

Are we individually and as the church of God faithful witnesses to Scripture as we go out into the world each day?

Forgive them...

Sermon

St. Simon’s on the Sound

Proper 25 – Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 18:9-14

In Luke's gospel, Jesus' last words as he hung on the cross were, "…Father forgive them; for they know not what they do." This brief 10-word phrase is one that I have never seriously thought through until late this summer, when preparing for our new Book Study group, I read a sermon given by Martin Luther King, Jr. entitled "Love in Action."

The sermon is found in the small but powerful book, "The Strength to Love." In the sermon King writes, "A second lesson comes to us from Jesus' awareness of man's intellectual and spiritual blindness. "They know not what they do," said Jesus…The men who cried, "Crucify him," were not bad men but rather blind men. The jeering mob that lined the roadside that led to Calvary was composed not of evil people, but of blind people. They knew not what they did. What a tragedy!"

King goes on for the remainder of his sermon to eloquently describe the many human tragedies that have occurred as the result of man's blindness. Tragedies that span time immemorial from the crucifixion of Christ up to and including the world of segregation and hatred in which he found himself.

Wars have and are being fought. People have been and are being persecuted; killed; exterminated. Ignorance and prejudice have caused and are causing irreparable damage to countless men, women, and children. And why, says King – because "They know not what they do." Blindness was and is their besetting trouble…”

This sermon of King's is for me a disquieting reminder of the imperative nature of the church's mandate to take up, with a renewed commitment to Christ, its role as a leader in healing divisions that continue to deepen among people throughout the world. Divisions brought about by blindness - the inability to think and act with understanding, compassion, and love.

The church's mandate to, "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you." (Matt 28:16-20) has never been more relevant.

It is a mandate to counteract blindness, and to bring about “good will among men.” It is a mandate to heal divisions that stem from entrenched positions assumed through ignorance, prejudice, and fear. Divisions that create an atmosphere of blaming, anger, and hate. An anger and hate that has, and is, creating pain, suffering, and chaos throughout the world. It is a mandate to bring about healing through forgiveness and love.

Last week, in his opening address to the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry said,

“The United States is being torn asunder within by the inability to be in deep relationship with each other and yet hold differing positions and convictions.

“I really believe that Jesus was right. That the Way of Love, doesn't mean the way of agreement. But it means the capacity to love each other, and therefore, to seek the good together. Whether we agree or disagree.

“Dr. King once said, “History is replete with the bleached bones of civilizations that have refused to listen to (Jesus),” who said love your enemies, bless those who curse you.

“This country must not become a valley of dry bones. And frankly, the only way is the way of love.

“There is no other way.”

Now is the time for us, the church, to leave behind the comfort of home; to go into the world as both disciples and prophets; to enter into conversations and ways of being that will forge paths that lead to healing the wounds of hatred and divisiveness that grow more evident with each passing day. Conversations and ways of being that point us to God's grace – God's desire for his beloved children to live lives of peace and abundance.

What does all of this mean for those of us sitting here in Ft. Walton Beach and those Episcopalians who reside throughout the entire Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast?

How do these messages from Martin Luther King, Jr. and our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, impact our day to day lives if our goal is to go forth into the community as disciples and prophets? What is it that we can do that will facilitate healing in our chaotic and divided world?

To be effective, our conversations and ways of being should listen to Jesus' words, "Forgive them; for they know not what they do." Our conversations and ways of being should reflect the knowledge that reconciling these divisions can only come from recognizing that God alone, not we, but God alone, is the judge of all mankind.

Luke's gospel reading today points to this reality - that God alone is the judge of all mankind. Luke begins with the phrase, "He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.” (Lk 18:9)

The parable goes on to describe two people praying in the temple. A Pharisee who is giving thanks that he is "not like other people" who, in essence, are flawed, not worthy; in some way "bad." And, a tax collector who, in humility and shame, has hidden himself at the far edge of the Temple courtyard, unable to look up – to look God in the eye, so to speak, as he asks for mercy.

The contrast between these two men is quite evident. The Pharisee makes a claim to righteousness based on his own assessment of his accomplishments as a man of God, while the tax collector, knowing he has many faults, relies entirely upon the Lord's benevolence to forgive his sins.

The pharisee appears to have no need for God. Rather than being grateful for his blessings, the Pharisee appears smug to the point of despising others. In his mind there are two kinds of people: the righteous and the those who are sinners - those who are not worthy. He is grateful that he can place himself among the righteous - those worthy of God’s blessing.

The tax collector, on the other hand, isn't so much humble as desperate. He is too overwhelmed by his plight to take time to divide humanity into sides. All he recognizes as he stands near the Temple is his own great need for forgiveness. He stakes his hopes not on anything he has done or deserved but entirely on the mercy of God.

That's a big difference – One man is judging his worthiness through his own eyes; the other, is asking God for mercy.

How easy to fall into the role of the Pharisee. Indeed, do we not find ourselves in this category every day - see ourselves through the judgement of our own eyes - no one else’s, let alone God’s? How easy to think, “I go to church. I pray on a daily basis. I donate to causes that help the needy. I am a good person.”

Sound familiar?

I certainly am no different than anyone else. I frequently find myself in the Pharisee category. However, more and more, the Pharisee category makes me very uncomfortable. When I feel that discomfort, I say to myself, “Clelia, you are blind. Your blindness is preventing you from being a true servant of Christ. You need to forget about yourself and seek God’s way for you, not his congratulations for your personal achievements, which, by the way, matter little in this troubled world.”

The link here between King’s sermon and his observations about blindness and Luke’s gospel is, of course, righteousness. Through our sense of righteousness, our self-satisfaction, we become alienated from God. And, when we are alienated from God, we no longer see the “other” through the lenses of discipleship. The lenses of forgiveness and love. We see the world as “us” versus “them.” We are the right ones, the good ones. Everything is fine on our side of the fence. It’s those “others” who are the problem.

And thus, acts committed in blindness, the blindness that King refers to when he points to the importance of Christ’s words, “Forgive them, they know not what they do,” acts of violence are brought about.

There are two important points here. The first is Christ’s cry to God, “Forgive them.” The torture and sadness of the cross was an act of love carried out for us. Our promise of eternal forgiveness given in a moment of torture and suffering. Through an act of love and forgiveness, we are forgiven - loved and forgiven, eternally.

The second is the sin of our righteousness and the obligation we have to the cross to get beyond our righteousness and into the world to offer the same forgiveness and love that we have received from God.

God sent Jesus so that we might receive eternal forgiveness and love. Jesus sends us to do the same.

This is not easy work - going into the world to offer forgiveness and love. To understand and participate in the healing of the other. But it is the work that God has given us to do.

Let us not be blind. Let us not fall into the way of those who know not what they do. Let us have the humility, courage and discipline needed to lift the scales from our eyes and, with God’s help, to know what we are all about as we forge the path of discipleship - the path of forgiveness and love.

In his book, Journey to the Common Good, Walter Brueggemann, as usual, eloquently paints for us a picture of what prophetic life entails when he writes, “Those who sign on and depart the system of anxious scarcity become the history makers in the neighborhood.”

With God's help, let us know what we do. Let us become “history makers in the neighborhood.” AMEN

"No, I tell you rather division...."

Sermon

St. Simon's on the Sound

Proper C – The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 12:49-56

I stood in the Catholic Charities Respite Center's food distribution line wrapping tacos in paper napkins and handing them out one by one to a crowd of over 350 refugees – men, women and children. Refugees waiting to board buses. Refugees waiting to be transported to places far and wide throughout the United States. Refugees journeying from a place of terror to a place unknown; but, a place somewhere out there that they would now call home.

I looked into the grateful face of each taco recipient. I looked out at the crush of people sitting peacefully side by side, slowly eating their tacos. I glanced into the adjoining room where mothers and their children lay side by side on blue mats, not sleeping; just staring at nothing in particular, with vacant eyes.

Not much talking among adults; absolutely no crying children. Just people exhausted, spent, bewildered, sad, and lonely. People wondering how they will find the strength to continue their incredibly treacherous journey – this disruption in their lives with a goal of finding a better place – a better life.

As I stood there, I was struck by a force that formed a knot of anxiety and deep sadness in my heart and in my soul. As I gazed out at this crush of weary refugees, I realized that these men, women, and children – these journeymen - were coming to live with me; coming to live with us. I was shamed by the realization that previously I had not understood this situation at all; and, that in my ignorance I was in no way ready to welcome my new neighbors. I saw with crystal clarity that as a nation we are no different than the crowd Jesus spoke to in today's gospel when he said, "You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?" (Lk 12:56)

According to the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), a refugee is a person outside his or her country of nationality who has experienced past persecution or has a well-founded fear of persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion.  An asylee is a person who meets the definition of refugee and is already present in the United States or is seeking admission at a port of entry.

All refugees wishing to enter the U.S. undergo a credible fear interview. For immigrants in detention who are fleeing persecution, the credible or reasonable fear interview (actually a series of up to four or five interviews) is crucial. Without a positive determination, an immigrant will be deported from the U.S. and unable to re-apply for entry ever again.

The refugees at the Catholic Charities Respite Center had all passed their credible fear interviews and had been given asylee status. They had been released from detention and could now legitimately enter the United States.

I cannot imagine what these men, women and children have experienced. I cannot imagine fleeing persecution and violence with nothing but the clothing on my back and traveling thousands of miles on foot with little or no food or water. I cannot imagine leaving my home, my family, and my friends – all I have ever known - and beginning a journey of nothing but hardship, with no real knowledge of how my journey will end. I cannot imagine the courage needed; the heartbreak and the terror encountered.

According to the Pew Research Organization, today, more than 40 million people living in the U.S. were born in another country. Looking forward, the Pew Organization predicts that immigrants and their descendants are projected to account for 88% of the U.S. population growth through 2065.

We in America are a people of many nationalities. I, myself, am first generation American. I was born to an Italian father who became an American citizen late in his life after a struggle with immigration that included detention at Ellis Island in New York City during World War II.

While there is great physical, cultural, religious and racial diversity among us – the color of our skin, our country of origin, the language we speak, the religion we follow – we are all the same in God's eyes. The Apostle Paul writes in Galatians, "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Gal. 3:28)

Strangers to us - those whom we categorize as "the other" - are not strangers to God. God's love and grace extend to all – there are no favorites; no special cases.

As a people who have committed themselves to following Jesus as their way, their light, their life we must strive with all our hearts and all our souls to understand Jesus' simple, yet so very complex, commandment, "Love your neighbor as yourself." And, we must find the compassion and the courage to honor our baptismal vow to "respect the dignity of every human being."

Finding myself in the midst of the turmoil of the immigration situation on the Texas-Mexican border was my most recent gift from God. It allowed me to grasp on many levels the challenges many, if not most, refugees face as they journey from other countries hoping to enter the United States. Hoping to assimilate and become one of "us." Hoping to find work, education for their children, and a better life for themselves and their families. Hoping to be loved, not terrorized.

It struck me that I have done very little, if anything, to truly welcome the stranger among us – to become a better neighbor as we all strive for the common good. I guess you could say I had an epiphany – a wake-up call.

So, when I arrived home and prepared to write this sermon by reading the gospel passage for today – I thought to myself, "Now I get it. Now I understand why Jesus was saying to his disciples, 'Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you rather division!' "

Now I get this shocking declaration and Jesus' prediction that houses will be divided, and families will find themselves against each other as they bicker and disagree with each other. Turmoil will reign. Now I get it.

Jesus' relationship with the Father determined his identity; his very being. In every action, in every relationship, in every moment of his life he remained faithful to the Father. Although he knew that his actions, driven by his commitment to the Father, would threaten the powerful Roman Empire and the Jewish elite, and that, ultimately, he would face certain arrest, torture and crucifixion, he was not deterred from his mission. His obedience to God's commandments was unshakable. And at the very end, he prayed, "Father, if you are willing remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done." (Lk 22:42)

Not my will, but yours be done.

What Jesus is telling us in this passage from Luke is that once we choose the Father as the ultimate relationship through which all of our actions and relationships are mediated, we stand the chance of butting heads with those who have chosen other Gods, such a power, wealth, and hatred as their relationship mediator. To choose God as the authority through whom we act and have our being, is to run the risk of causing division among many of our other relationships. To choose God as our ultimate authority is to run the risk of losing friends, colleagues, and yes, even family.

That is the choice that Jesus sets before us today – and every day.

Who or what is the determining relationship that guides our lives; that shapes our way of being in the world, our decisions, and our interactions with the "other"? Who is our ultimate authority? It's a choice we must make over and over, day after day as we respond to our many relationships and various life situations. It is a choice that frequently, if not always, brings division and disruption in our lives. It is a choice that we must make if we are to have the courage to "love our neighbor as ourselves and to respect the dignity of every human being."

In one of his incredibly powerful sermons, Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in times of challenge and controversy. The true neighbor will risk his position, his prestige, and even his life for the welfare of others. In dangerous valleys and hazardous pathways, he will lift some bruised or beaten brother to a higher and more noble life."

Have we the courage to live the life of the Good Samaritan? If so, what does that mean for us in the here and now?

If we are to be Good Samaritans, we should listen closely to Jesus when he says to us, "You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?"

The present time confronts us as an urgent matter. The present time brings us back to the Texas/Mexican border and the asylees from Mexico and Central America, Cameroon, Peru, Venezuela, the Congo, Columbia, Syria and so many other countries where terror and genocide reign, propelling God's beloved children to seek refuge in safer places. Places where they will be greeted in love, not as "the other". Places where they will be greeted as a brothers and sisters in Christ –  fellow journeymen in life – all recipients of God's love and grace.

To interpret the present time is to understand that now is a time to have the courage to speak out from a heart and soul filled with love, not fear – love, not hatred. Now is a time to disregard fear of divisiveness among family, friends, and colleagues, of disruption of the comfort and complacency of our lives. Now is the time to be clear that to reject those who legitimately seek asylum is to reject God. Now is the time to "pick up the cross of Jesus". Now is the time to "lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and run with perseverance the race that is set before us." (Hebrews 12:1)

It is a time that requires solid faith in our loving God, and the courage to love "the other" as God loves us.