A Voice Crying Out

 

SERMON

December 4, 2022 - Matthew 3:1-12

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’”

Matthew’s account of John the Baptist, a rough looking, strangely clad fellow who ate locusts and wild honey, boldly emerging from the wilderness, proclaiming “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” is for a breathtaking story.

This John is of course the same John that we first meet when he is still in his mother’s womb. I’m sure you remember the story of the Immaculate Conception as it is told towards the end of the first chapter of Luke’s gospel. Mary learns from the angel Gabriel that she is with child. Amazed and humbled she follows the angel’s directive to visit her relative Elizabeth in the hill country. Elizabeth, who is in her 60’s is also miraculously with child. When Mary finally arrives and enters Elizabeth’s house, she shares the account of her visit from the angel Gabriel and of the angel’s proclamation that Mary was now with child, and that the child would be Holy. Upon hearing the story, Elizabeth’s child, John, “leapt in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit.”

Less frequently do we hear the story of John’s conception, which comes at the very outset of Chapter One. Luke tells us that the angel Gabriel, prior to visiting Mary, visited Zachariah, Elizabeth’s husband.  When Zechariah saw the angel, he was terrified, and fear overwhelmed him. ^“But the angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord…even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God.”

And then, at the very end of Luke’s first chapter, we come upon Zachariah’s beautiful hymn, best known to us in the Book of Common Prayer as Canticle 16, The Song of Zachariah. This powerful hymn is a prophetic description of what is to come about as the result of his son John’s birth. Midway through the hymn Zachariah says, “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins.” In one brief sentence Luke concludes this hymn writing that “The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly to Israel.”  

Putting the bits and pieces of these gospel stories together helps to place John the Baptist in a context that is the very heart of the New Testament. John is not some bizarre character who suddenly emerges from the wilderness claiming to be a prophet. Far from it. John is the prophetic messenger empowered by God through the gift of the Holy Spirit while still in his mother’s womb to grow strong and to be the one crying out in the wilderness announcing the arrival of the Lord.

John the Baptist is the prophetic messenger sent by God to proclaim the arrival of his Son, Jesus. John’s ministry of repentance and baptism by water is intended to prepare the way for Jesus’ arrival and his baptism not by water but by the Holy Spirit. John has been chosen by God to announce the arrival of the Son of God, God incarnate, Jesus Christ, into our world. As Zachariah proclaimed, “He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God.”

 

Matthew concludes this prophetic message delivered by John as he emerged from the wilderness with the most stunning statement “He will baptize you with the Holy spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear the threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

In today’s vernacular John is telling us “This is it folks. Here is your opportunity to receive God’s grace, forever. I suggest you take it because if you do not you will be negatively impacted by its absence.”

In just a few short weeks Christmas Eve will be upon us. The arrival of Jesus Christ in the world, once again. The next morning, Christmas morning, Bishop Russell will join us as both celebrant and preacher. He has selected for the gospel passage that morning the most beautiful hymn of all. The opening verses of the Gospel of John. This exquisite hymn in just a few stanzas tells the whole nativity story in language that clearly speaks to the reality and purpose of God incarnate among us. Jesus’ presence among us as the Word of God that, if followed, shines a light in the darkness of our lives and prepares the way for salvation.

“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.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.”

“To all that received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become the children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.”

My friends in this all too brief period of Advent we are privy to the most powerful stories in the New Testament. Stories that bring to life the context in which Jesus entered our world. Stories that proclaim God’s intent in sending his Son to be among us. Without these stories there would be no New Testament, no scripture as we know it. There would be no Christmas Eve; no Christmas Day.

It is in quietly and repeatedly reflecting upon the powerful words delivered in these stories that the miracle of the Nativity, the miracle of Jesus among us emerges and begins to seep into our minds and touch our hearts in ways that are life changing. It is through these stories that we understand fully the context of how God came into the world through the gift of his Son, Jesus Christ. It is through understanding, accepting, and living into this miraculous gift of God’s Word, God incarnate among us, that we become his beloved children.

My point today is to underscore the context of Jesus’ complex birth story and to take seriously John the Baptist’s words of warning, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear the threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 

The nativity story, Christmas carols on Christmas eve and festivities filled with presents, good food shared with family, and friends on Christmas Day can easily eclipse the story of John the Baptist and his prophetic voice announcing the arrival of God incarnate into our lives. A story that began with a messenger sent by God, the angel Gabriel. A story that was filled with it the power of the Holy Spirit. A story of two women, one young and one elderly, whose wombs were filled through the power of the Holy Spirit to give us the gift of Jesus, God incarnate, and the powerful and courageous voice of a prophet, John the Baptist.

The Nativity Story is an incredible story. It is a story that is at the same time both understandable and ineffable, overwhelming, and indescribable.

It is the story of God’s miraculous gift to us. A gift given in love. A gift given in the hope that it will be received in love. A gift meant to bring peace on earth and good will among all men.

John’s sudden emergence from the wilderness with all its disruption in the lives of those who heard his voice was, and is, a wake-up call for us – a disrupting wake-up call in the life of the St. Simon’s community and for all other communities in the world.

John is not some crazy fellow wandering around in the wilderness with no purpose, shouting out nonsense, and eating strange food. John the Baptist is a holy man sent from God to announce the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry – his Word and his gift of baptism by the Holy Spirit. John was sent by God to disrupt our lives and to warn us that we must take care. John alerts us to the saving grace of God’s gift of the Word: the Way, the Truth, the Light. A Word to which we must pay close attention, for it is only in paying attention that we will experience the way and the light; that we will find the way to peace on earth and good will to all men.

Words cannot through any stretch of the imagination adequately describe the story of Jesus’ arrival as it unfolds in the gospels of Luke and Matthew. Words are useless when attempting to express the miracle of Jesus Christ, God incarnate, as he comes into our lives and lives among us – there are none. However, we can in the coming weeks spend time reflecting upon the gift of Christmas Eve, the birth of the Christ child, God incarnate among us. We can listen for John’s cry as he emerges from the wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” We can focus on bringing that gift given in love to our community and to the world.  It leaves me breathless – how about you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Are All Special People

 

Ecumenical Service

Sunday, November 20

John 6:25-35 

First off, let me thank you all for being with us this evening. We are truly honored and blessed to have so many members of the Okaloosa County community gathered in this holy place. Tonight, we have come together in peace as one body to offer prayers of thanksgiving for the many blessings that fill our lives despite the chaos and turmoil of our global community. 

As well as acting as your host, I have also been asked to deliver tonight’s message. In preparation I, of course, have been in deep thought regarding the focus of my message. More importantly I have prayed relentlessly beseeching the Holy Spirit to infuse my muddled brain with a message that would be relevant to all of us as we consider the context of our world and our community as we move into 2023. 

Let me begin by saying that I recently had the good luck to participate in a South African travel seminar led by the Rev. Dr. Michael Battle, one of the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s colleagues and a brilliant theologian in his own right. The point of the travel seminar was to study not only the ubuntu theology of the archbishop, but also to have an in-depth opportunity to learn about the ongoing struggles of black South Africans despite the abolishment of the apartheid movement and despite the recommendations of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, chaired by Tutu in 1995-2002.

I do not exaggerate when I tell you that the trip was life changing for me. I returned to the US with a renewed enthusiasm for spreading the word of God through the building of community. I came home understanding the absolute necessity of community if one is to encounter God acting in today’s world. The absolute necessity of community of we are to see the very image of God among us.

So, this evening I want to speak of community and its critical role in this very fragmented and chaotic global society in which so many are suffering, with little or no relief in sight. In which so many yearn for God’s redeeming love. In which so many hunger for a taste of hope through the presence of God, the bread of life, to come into their lives.

In the gospel according to Mark, Jesus clarifies for all who demand to know what the most important commandment is when he answered saying, “The most important one is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

Tonight, I want to suggest that if we are to grasp the full intent of God’s command to love our neighbor, we are called to understand and firmly embrace the concept of love of neighbor and the importance of how that love is revealed in and through the gift of community.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer the German Lutheran pastor, theologian, and anti-Nazi dissident who was executed at Flossenberg concentration camp just four days before the end of the Second World War in his book Life Together wrote, “The church is [God] existing as community. It is only through community that we are connected to God….On this presupposition rests everything that the Scriptures provide in the way of directions and precepts for the communal life…”

Bonhoeffer concludes these thoughts writing, “The more genuine and deeper our community becomes, the more will everything between us recede, the more clearly and purely will [God]… become the one and only thing that is vital between us. We have one another only through [God], but through [God] we do have one another, wholly, and for all eternity…this is not an ideal but a divine reality.”  (Life Together. p 24, 26)

In his last published work, Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community, Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote “…today our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant and to face the challenge of change. The large house in which we live demands that we transform this worldwide neighborhood into a worldwide brotherhood. Together we must learn to live together as brothers and sisters or together we will be forced to perish as fools.”

The late Archbishop Desmond Tutu viewed the critical importance of community through the African concept of ubuntu. Tutu defined ubuntu in saying “A person is a person through other persons. We need other human beings for us to learn how to be human, for none of us comes fully formed into the world…Ubuntu is the essence of being human…I am because I belong…I need other human beings to be human.” (Various presentations) 

An international leader in human rights and social justice, Tutu believed firmly that the building of community was increasingly important in addressing the challenges of our fragmented and chaotic global community. He said “We are living in an historic moment. We are each called to take part in a great transformation. Our survival as a species is threatened by global warming, economic meltdown, and an ever-increasing gap between rich and poor. Yet these threats offer an opportunity to awaken an interconnected and beloved community.” (Various presentations)

In the Episcopal Church the gospel reading appointed for Thanksgiving Day is John 6:25-35, a story we might entitle “The Bread from Heaven.” This story is very much about finding God in and through community.

If you will recall, in search of Jesus, a crowd on the shores of Tiberias gets into small boats and crosses the lake to Capernaum where they hope to find him. They have heard about the miracle of Jesus finding food for 5000 even though he had but five barley loaves and two fishes. The crowd wants to join in – to be fed similarly. But Jesus has their number. He says to them, “Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of loaves. 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…I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never by thirsty.”

Simply put the crowd is seeking a taste of bread, a morsel of fish, a magical and temporary fix to a passing hunger, but instead they find Jesus who instead offers them a different a kind of food. He offers them the bread of life. A way to fulfillment that brings love and peace not through the temporal fix of a small meal, but through an eternal peacefulness of the heart and soul. In these moments on the shores of Capernaum a community frantically seeking temporary fulfillment of their hunger instead recognizes God as the true bread of life. God as the way to eternal fulfillment. This desperately seeking community emerges as God’s fulfilled and sacred community.

Bonhoeffer, King, and Tutu while quite different in their theological approaches to the challenges of their contexts, all agree on one critical point – God is found in community. God is among us, whatever our current context might be. God is always present in all of us and through all of us. Once again quoting Bonhoeffer we recognize that, “…brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; rather it is a reality created by God in which we may participate. The more clearly we learn to recognize that the ground and strength and promise of all our fellowship is in God alone, the more serenely shall we think of our fellowship and pray and hope for it. (Life Together. P. 30)

My friends I know that there is not a person present who does not understand the urgent need for us as members of Okaloosa County to strengthen our communal bonds. To, as one, hear God’s voice as he guides our way and lights our path in the work of creating a community that reflects his peace and love. A community that lays aside barriers to unity and welcomes all. A community created in and strengthened by love. A community formed in the image of God. 

And, on the eve of our Thanksgiving celebrations, a community that offers the bread of life to all through inclusion, healing, and love. Let us remember we are all beloved children of God. All created in his image. All members of God’s kingdom now and forever.

In closing I offer one final quote from the late archbishop.

“In my theology there are no ordinary people. Each one of us, because we are God’s representative, God’s viceroy, God’s stand-in, and a God carrier – each one of us is a very special person.” (No Future Without Forgiveness. 109)

God Among us

 

SERMON

Luke 21:5-19

Sunday, Nov. 13, 2022

 

Unbelievably I am now in my sixth year here at St. Simon’s. My time with you has passed by in a complete flash. Truly, I do not know where the time has gone and sadly along with time disappeared, many memories have been tucked away in the rush of dealing with the present. However, today’s gospel reading from Luke has caused me to retrieve many of those memories and to reflect on our six years together. In doing so, I am amazed at how much has happened in the life of our church family since my first trip to this altar on October 1, 2017.

Major events, like the Craft Fair and the Rummage Sale, have ended. Many, too many, beloved friends have died. Covid 19 terrified us all and closed our doors for months on end. Hurricane Sally pushed water into and through our entire building, leading to a year of disruption and repairs. And, finally many dear friends have moved away or are unable physically to join us as we gather.

I think that you will all agree – that’s a lot. A lot of trauma and grief for anyone, and certainly a lot for a church congregation struggling to maintain a solid vertical connection to God. Staying in touch with God is not always easy when life is beset by challenge after challenge. Obstacles to faith and hope.

And yet, my friends, despite these turbulent seas we are emerging as a body of Christ in faith and in hope that we will resume our energy and our focus as disciples of Christ. Already the servant work in our congregation and in our community has blossomed. We bring comfort and nourishment to the children at Elliott Point School. We share our congregational meals with the residents of One Hopeful Place and partner with other congregations in feeding the many homeless sheltered there on nights when the temperature dips below forty degrees. We partnered with Gregg Chapel to prepare two truckloads of hurricane supplies to send to the Port Charlotte area just a matter of days after hurricane Ian. Several weeks ago we collected 51 bags of non-perishable food items for our local food pantry Sharing and Caring in what will now be a quarterly Brown Bag Ministry. We are preparing to embark on a Blessing Bags ministry through which basic hygiene items with be regularly distributed to the over 475 homeless schoolchildren in Okaloosa County. And we have joyously resumed our potluck feasts on holidays and as a natural extension of special services. Our kitchen is back in full swing; the flower guild is more creative than ever, and the altar guild has polished every nook and cranny in the sacristy and will begin refurbishing some of our sacred items such as the Processional Cross.

My friends, I do believe that we have re-established our vertical relationship with God. We are answering his call to serve in peace through love, faith, and hope.

All this good work has not come about without, as I mentioned earlier, plowing through turbulent seas. Seas of angry, frustrated, and despairing words, and paralyzing moods of depression, anger, and a deep grief over the loss of precious time and the deaths of dear friends. But much like the sea captain in the hymn Amazing Grace: 

“The Lord has promised good to me, his word my hope secures; he will my shield and portion be as long as life endures. Through many dangers, toils, and snares I have already come; ‘tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.” 

St. Simon’s has overcome, and with God’s grace will continue to do so for many years to come.

Now you might ask what about Luke’s story of Jesus describing in distressing detail a future of bloody, death-filled times and the destruction of the temple is relevant to us sitting here 2000 years after the fact.

Think back. As you may remember, Jesus’ predictions in this story are based the disciples’ adoration of the magnificent Herodian temple in Jerusalem. A temple built by a Roman leader and a temple in which Roman Gods were worshipped along with the God of the Israelites. A temple that was ultimately a symbol of Rome’s oppressive power over the people of Israel.  Jesus warns his disciples that temporal symbols of wealth and power that might seem quite attractive in the here and now will ultimately fail and die away. He predicts that, “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.”

The disciples, appropriately alarmed, frightened for their lives I would imagine, ask Jesus when and how they will know that this horrific situation is about to occur. Rather than providing a direct answer to these questions, Jesus responds with the directive, “Beware you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them.” 

Jesus understands that in the time of destruction, chaos, and fear the disciples – just like any normal person, you and I included – will lose focus and grasp on to any promise of comfort and safety that they might come across. He warns them – do not lose your focus by being drawn to those who act like god, but who are truly deceivers seeking power to rule; to be a “would be” god. Stick with me, follow me, have faith in me, and I will lead you to the true God. The God of love, of hope and of salvation.

A little later in this same passage he warns the disciples that there will be additional dangers that they must face. Wars, insurrections, nation rising against nation, kingdoms against kingdoms, great earthquakes, dreadful portents or threats, and more. All times and situations in which one’s trust in God can be shaken, and in many cases, all faith lost. All times in which alternative leaders seeking power and control can intrude themselves into our lives gaining our trust and compounding evil upon evil.

Jesus goes on to describe scenarios in which the disciples will be detained, arrested, questioned, even put to death. Times in which they will have to testify to their allegiance to God, not to the power of the Roman Empire. Scary stuff. But then, Jesus offers comfort saying, “…I will give you words of wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.” In other words, despite the turbulent seas, the tragedy, the loss of life, the horrific times of war and insurrection, natural disaster, betrayal by family members, and more we are to proceed in faith and courage understanding that “…not a hair on our head will perish. By our endurance we will gain our souls.”

“By our endurance we will gain our souls.”

Today’s gospel story is so relevant to our modern times. There is not one situation that Jesus describes which is not present in our world today. Insurrection and war in the Ukraine, in various African nations, in Syria, and throughout the Mideast rage without cease. Threats of nuclear warfare are now in every headline. Massive natural events such as earthquakes and hurricanes have caused the destruction of entire communities. As of May 2022, 100 million individuals were forcibly displaced worldwide. Propelled by the war in Ukraine and other deadly conflicts this data accounts for an increase of 10.7 million people displaced from the end of the previous year.

Child hunger affects millions of children worldwide, many of them living right here in the Florida Panhandle, and Covid is still with us stealthily spreading throughout our communities each and every day.

These are times in which Jesus tells us it is imperative to… “Follow me and not a hair on your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.”

This, my friends, brings me back to St. Simon’s – the community of St. Simon’s – and our corporate life together as we face a chaotic world filled with tragic events and strive to keep our vertical relationship with God. This is a challenge that faces us daily. One that we must meet together as we gather each week in communal worship and as we go into the world to seek and serve Christ.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer is just one of the many theologians who insists that we can only know God through communal worship. Bonhoeffer believed that we can only know God through God’s actions. And we can only make sense of God’s actions through worship because it is in worship that we are invited into the mystery of knowing God as the subject of our life together. We know God through adoring God together. 

It is in our church community that we find the presence of God among us and working with us. It is in our church community that we hear God’s call and find God’s presence. Our communal worship life together is essential to meeting the challenge of turbulent seas and chaotic lives.

As St. Simon’s emerges from the ashes of the Covid 19 era of isolation, I sense that the St. Simon’s community recognizes what Bonhoeffer taught. We know God through adoring God together. We know God’s will for us through our communal life of worship– because of St. Simon’s. And, perhaps most importantly we want to share our God through servant works with the rest of our community.

My friends, we possess something most precious to share with the world. Together, let us offer it to others.

I close with a brief quote from Bonhoeffer’s early work The Cost of Discipleship:

“The path of discipleship is narrow, and it is fatally easy to miss one’s way and stray from the path, even after years of discipleship…On either side of the path deep chasms yawn…The way is unutterably hard…if we are afraid for ourselves all the time it is an impossible way. But if we behold Jesus Christ going on before step by step, we shall not go astray…For he is himself the way, the narrow way…He, and he alone, is our journey’s end…The narrow way is bound to be right.”

 

 

 

SERMON

Sunday Closest to July 5, 2021 (never posted, in error)

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

 

I am no different than millions of other people who love music. I subscribe to Pandora, the American music streaming and automated music recommendation internet radio service, and I listen to my music favorites, the "Thumbs up" option, most often while I am having breakfast and getting ready for work. This means that listening to Pandora coincides with my time in the shower – where, also, just like millions of other people, I do my best thinking.

Last Friday, just as I stepped out of the shower, the song Spanish Pipedream was playing. Spanish Pipedream, John Prine's classic love song, was written and originally released in 1971 by John Prine on his self-titled debut album. In that same year it was also performed by John Denver on his album Aerie. Both versions are spectacular – I commend them to you.

Spanish Pipedream is a song about a soldier who meets a topless dancer in a bar on his way to Montreal. The soldier recounts his story saying:

She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol
And I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal.
Well she pressed her chest against me
About the time the juke box broke
Yeah, she gave me a peck on the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke.

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper.
Go to the country, build you a home.
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches.
Try and find Jesus on your own.

By the end of the song, it is clear that they took the dancer's advice. Here's how it goes:

Well, I was young and hungry and about to leave that place.
When just as I was leavin', well she looked me in the face.
I said "You must know the answer."
"She said, "No but I'll give it a try."
And to this very day we've been livin' our way
And here is the reason why.

We blew up our TV threw away our paper.
Went to the country, built us a home.
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches.
They all found Jesus on their own.

Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why this brief, but powerful, song caught my attention – "…blow up your TV and throw away your paper." Sound like something you might want to do?

I am sure that many, if not all, of us quite often fantasize about doing something akin to this as moment by moment, day by day various media platforms spew forth headlines designed to grab one's attention. Keeping up with what is important, and what is not important can be exhausting. Frequently depressing and anxiety producing. Our eyes and ears – our minds - have become targets of a non-stop barrage of informational tidbits and proclamations of how things should be – how we should feel, think, act. Our entire beings are saturated with unceasing stimuli of all sorts.

"…blow up your TV and throw away your paper." Sound advice that points us in a direction to a quieter time – a time when we can figuratively “Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches. Try and find Jesus on our own.”

Paul in today’s rather circuitous but ultimately quite true passage from Romans describes our human dilemma of unceasing inner conflict. Inner conflict that when recognized leads us to seek a place in which we can truly discern who we are and how we are living our lives. Prine’s lyrics of removing ourselves to a place of quiet – a place where we can plant our garden anew; a place of solitude in which to hear God’s voice sounds like good advice.

As Christians we want to do the right thing, but sometimes the massive diversity of innumerable incoming media messages so distracts us that we fail to act as we had intended. Sometimes, through exhaustion and confusion, we find ourselves not even caring if we are doing the right thing or not. Sometimes we fall away from God’s path for us.

As Christians, at our baptism we are anointed by God. We die to sin and are resurrected to a new life in which we have renounced evil. However, our sanctification is not instantaneous. It is instead a process that continues throughout our lives, through continual repentance and returning, only to be fully realized in death - at our resurrection. It is our dilemma as Christians that try as hard as we might we continue to stand with one foot in the kingdom of this world and the other foot in the kingdom of God. 

We find ourselves continually caught in the tension of these two worlds, frequently dismayed by our own actions.  Failing to do the things that we want to do and instead doing the things that we have vowed not to do. There is an unceasing war going on within us and sin sometimes prevails. 

As Paul puts it, “So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of my God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.”

  "…blow up your TV and throw away your paper." 

Matthew’s gospel passage offers us hope. The hope offered through our understanding of God’s love for all his beloved. An eternal love made known to us through the gift of his Son, Jesus Christ. Hope that we can step away from the noisy and divisive chatter that engulfs us. Hope that we can let go of the inner struggles that cause us discord. Hope that if we follow the teachings of Christ, teachings that lead us on a path that calls for repentance, compassion, and love – love of God and love of neighbor – hope that we will find peace.

The distressing rhetoric of anger, hate and the destructive and troubling acts of violence that torment our world can be set aside, put in perspective, but only through returning and repenting. Only through hearing Jesus’ invitation, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” 

Jesus is not beset by anger, distrust, envy, or a need to acquire power. No, Jesus is content to serve, to love, and to have compassion for those who are suffering, those who bear the burden of poverty, discrimination, and illness – a much easier route – an easy yoke. And he is asking us to join him by carrying a similarly easy yoke. A quieter, more peaceful way of life in which it is God, not the TV or the newspaper that drives our thoughts and our actions

Reconciliation with God, assuming the easier yoke of Christ, does not happen without work. Work that requires an honest look at ourselves. We cannot repent and return unless we know where we have been, what we have done, what we are doing that is taking us down a path that diverges from God’s will for us.

Bishop Desmond Tutu said in a recent interview, “True reconciliation is never cheap, for it is based on forgiveness which is costly. Forgiveness in turn depends on repentance, which has to be based on an acknowledgment of what was done wrong, and therefore on disclosure of the truth. You cannot forgive what you do not know.”

“Repentance has to be based on an acknowledgment of what was done wrong, and therefore on disclosure of the truth. You cannot forgive what you do not know.”

We cannot assume the easier yoke of Christ without repentance. We must understand the truth of our actions both corporate and individual. In order to forgive, or to be forgiven, we must know the truth of what went wrong.

In this time of Covid-19, a world pandemic with millions infected and over a quarter of a million souls dead in just a few short months. In this time of unprecedented political instability. In this time of renewed efforts to ensure justice for all. We as Christians must make every effort to hear Paul’s analysis of mankind’s plight. If listened to carefully it calls us to examine ourselves carefully. We must be able to say, for example, “You know, I think I do judge harshly” in order to engage in an examination of when, why, and with whom we do harshly judge.

In order to assume Jesus’ easy yoke, we must repent. Hard work, that was made a bit easier for me by John Prine’s advice. Advice that put a big smile on my face and brought the joy of laughter into my life. Besides. It’s good advice. Can we profit from it?

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper.
Go to the country, build you a home.
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches.
Try and find Jesus on your own

 

Ubuntu - A Way of Life

 

SERMON

September 25, 2022

The Episcopal Church is at a critical crossroad. How do we proceed as the voice of God – God’s mission in the world - in the context of a globalized society that is filled with countless economic, political, and divisive spiritual challenges? A society far different from that of our founding fathers. One in which Protestant Christianity was the central religion of the country and the unifying voice of our democracy, “One Nation Under God.” One in which the Episcopal Church and its dioceses flourished as vibrant communities engaged in myriad and vitally important ministries. One in which God’s presence was the guidepost to millions of lives. 

While it is hard to hear, it should come as no surprise to you when I say, “Those days are long gone.” The decline of the church, the fading of God’s presence in the world, is a harsh reality. It is a reality that we struggle against. One that we find difficult to believe.

And it is no different for the Episcopal Church. Our church has struggled mightily over the past several years in its various attempts to acknowledge the church’s decline and to find new and innovative ways of bringing God and his message of love and peace into the world. Unfortunately, just like many of us the church has continued to hold onto the past and deeply embedded traditions established long ago under the Emperor Constantine in the year 381, unwilling to face new ways that are unfamiliar and jarring. 

This tug-of-war approach, of course, has not and will not work. A more realistic way forward most urgently must be identified. We must grieve the past and bravely cross the threshold of taking Christ’s cross into the world in new ways that are relevant to the context of our global society and its multiple challenges. Ways in which God once again becomes the guidepost for our nation and for the world.

Naturally, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question is, “What is this new way; what will work?” There is no quick answer to these and so many other questions. Issues surrounding the violence, terrorism, political divisiveness, incredible economic disparity, and the lasting effects of colonialism throughout the Christian Empire, both here, and abroad, have left a world spinning in confusion and chaos. A world in which God is no longer our guidepost. Amidst this confusion and chaos, a way forward, carrying our cross and following Jesus in efforts that move our community and the world toward solidarity and peace is hard to imagine.

Those of us in leadership positions in the church, and you as laity, the essential ministers of the church, are now faced with a tough but urgently necessary choice. Let go of the past and joyfully move forward; or keep our heads in the sand and continue to pretend that we can “go back to the way it used to be.”

I use the word “joyfully” with great intention. To move forward into the unknown entails taking a leap of faith, a joyful leap of faith that is based in the firm knowledge that God intends for us to be the missio dei, the mission of God in the world. Joyful in the knowledge that God is with us every step of the way as we emerge, essential participants in this missio dei, renewing our churches and strengthening God’s voice throughout our communities and the world. Joyful as we witness the missio dei, the image of God in ways that resonate powerfully within the context of our current society. Voices that bring the joy of God’s love for his beloved children to all – all the world. Voices that place God as our guidepost in all that we see and do.

The late Archbishop Desmond Tutu summarized the importance of our leap of faith saying, “Go forth to make the world a better place for you can make a difference. The task is daunting – of course, but it is a necessary struggle. 

In today’s reading from 1 Timothy, we hear Paul’s words of encouragement to Timothy and others who were attempting to build a solid Christian community in Ephesus. Paul knew that Timothy faced continual opposition. Opposition to keeping this new and still fragile community intact. In response to this opposition Paul wrote the letter of 1 Timothy in which he formally reinforced his verbal instructions to Timothy and to the church about its organization and management.

Paul wrote at the conclusion of his letter, “But as for you, man of God, shun all this; pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness. Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called…”

Are these not words for us as well. “Fight the good fight of faith.” What guidance could be more relevant in these times when the church, God as the guidepost to the community, to the world, is slipping away, engulfed by political, economic, and environmental chaos. Paul’s direction from the earliest of Christian times is no less relevant today. In solidarity we must fight the good fight of faith if our church is to survive.

“Go forth to make the world a better place for you can make a difference. The task is daunting – of course, but it is a necessary struggle.”

So, just how might we “fight the good fight of faith?” What might that look like at this point in time? What tools do we have to help us in the “good fight?”

One recommendation that has been promoted continually by both the national church and churches throughout our many dioceses has called us to “get outside the four walls of the church” in order to bring the church to the community. Simply put to be the missio dei. 

Archbishop Tutu’s theology of Ubuntu endorses an essential way of being as we ask the question, “How do we do this.” How do we place ourselves outside the four walls of the church and join in and with the community in our struggle to live in peace and unity amid the confusion and chaos of today’s world. How do we move from “going to church,” in our sacred buildings on Sunday mornings, to “becoming the church” in every moment of our lives, wherever we are.

Tutu’s theology of Ubuntu offers a powerful response to these questions. Ubuntu speaks of the very essence of what it means to be human. Ubuntu is a way of being that is generous, hospitable, friendly, caring, and compassionate; a way of sharing who we are and what we have. Ubuntu is to say, “My humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up, in yours. Ubuntu means that we fulfill God’s dream of realizing that you and I and all of us are a family, that we are made for togetherness, for goodness, and for compassion.

Ubuntu is a way of being in which we realize that a person is a person only through their interrelationships with other persons. I learn how to be human through association you and with other human beings. My humanity is bound up in yours. We can only be human together. Human life is not meant to be lived in isolated individualism. Human life is meant to be shared. 

Ubuntu resonates with our biblical faith that identifies us all as God’s children, all made in the image of God, all called to be in relationship with each other no matter skin color or country of origin. All equal, while at the same time all blessedly different. All God’s gift to the world.

Tutu believed and taught, “We are each a God carrier, a tabernacle of the Holy Spirit, indwelt by God the holy and most blessed Trinity. To treat one such as less than this is not just wrong…It is veritably blasphemous and sacrilegious. It is to spit in the face of God.” 

In other words, Ubuntu is a way of being in which we see ourselves as no different, no better or worse, than anyone else. A way of being that is based in the understanding that I cannot be a person if I am not in relationship with other people, regardless of their difference from me. A way of being in which being in relationship with difference, being in community in every sense of the word, leads to a deeper understanding of self and allows the same to occur in the “other.” A way of being that acknowledges God as being always present, in all peoples. A way of being that is truly missio dei. A way that leads to unity and peace.

“Go forth to make the world a better place for you can make a difference. The task is daunting – of course, but it is a necessary struggle.”

How do we get there? How do each of us in our own ways move from going to church to being church in the world? How do we fight the good fight of faith that brings the world into a unified community that has as its guidepost God? 

These are the tough questions, decisions, and actions that the church is called to face, full-on, as its declines in attendance and God as our guidepost fades from is place of centrality in our corporate lives? Where do we fit into that call, as the community of St. Simon’s and as individuals.

Once again, the archbishop set an example for us as we ponder these questions through his commitment to a life of prayer and reflection. Tutu prayed faithfully seven times a day and celebrated the Eucharist at noon each day wherever he might be – even in the midst of a busy airport or meeting hall. Tutu maintained a solid vertical relationship with God. In all matters his conversation with God trumped the challenges of the day. Tutu saw himself as God’s partner.

The archbishop claimed that without silence and prayer he would disintegrate. That claim is without doubt true for all of us when it comes to our vertical relationship with God and our ability to be God’s partner in this confusing and complex world. Silence, reflection, and prayer bring us closer to God and our ability to fight the good fight of faith. The fight through which our Christian spirituality articulates the image of God in the world. The image of God as diverse persons in a unified world.

In an address to the 100^th Anniversary to the Methodist Conference in South Africa, Tutu began, “Jesus was forever a man of prayer, who sat the spiritual unequivocally at the center of His life, and it is from this vertical relationship with the Father that He drew the resources for His ministry of healing, feeding, preaching, and forgiving. We could well say that Jesus was a man for others precisely and only because He was first and foremost a man of God, a man of prayer. If it was so for the Son of God Himself how should it be otherwise for us? He is our paradigm.”

 

“Go forth to make the world a better place for you can make a difference. The task is daunting – of course, but it is a necessary struggle.”

 

 

Missio Dei

 

Sermon

Sep 09, 2022

Well, Good morning. I want to begin by thanking you for the tremendous support that you offered me through prayer and conversation as I traveled some 17,000 miles to and from South Africa to walk in the footsteps of the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu. I felt surrounded by your love through it all – and believe me among the many incredibly important moments of this pilgrimage there were definitely some rocky times. 

But here I am, back with you all, eager to share what I learned and eager to use my newfound spiritual and theological knowledge to support us all in our continual journey to remain solidly on the road of discipleship – our eyes always on God. Our footsteps always following those of Jesus, to the cross and beyond.

To answer your almost universal question, “What did you learn?” let me say, and say emphatically, I learned that “the Church does not exist if it is not God’s voice in the world.” 

Put another way, the Church is the missio dei, God’s mission in the world, God’s incarnation in the world. An incarnation that brings light, hope, compassion, justice, and love to those who are oppressed and to those who suffer. As disciples of Christ, God’s missionaries, we have a responsibility to, for, and with others. Exercising this responsibility requires working for social justice and the flourishing of all people. Our missionary work is the Church – the missio dei. If the Church is not doing that work, it does not exist as a mission of God and is no longer a church.

The concept of missio dei could not be better exemplified by anyone other than the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu whose theology was based on the belief that the church’s mandate is to create a society that becomes the image of God, a light to the world. The church’s role is to be a conduit of God’s holiness in the midst of societies torn asunder by racism and oppression. Societies in which injustice and oppression have created a world in which God’s children doubt that they are God’s children. God’s children doubt that they are God’s children. 

In a May 1994 address given before thousands of South Africans at the Grand Parade celebrating Nelson Mandela’s installment as President of South Africa, the Archbishop said, “We have said a resounding no to racism, to injustice, to oppression, to hatred, to violence, to dictation and division. We have said a loud reverberating “yes” to freedom, to forgiveness, to reconciliation, to peace, to unity. We of many cultures, languages, and races have become one nation, we the rainbow people of God.”

He went on to say, “Go forth to make the world a better place for you can make a difference. The task is daunting of course, but it is a necessary struggle.”

Tutu, a man of God courageously standing among thousands, declaring God’s mission for the world. Tutu carrying out in every sense of the word missio dei.

The task of eliminating apartheid was daunting, but it was a necessary struggle. One that required unbelievable courage and a deep and unfailing commitment to God. “Go forth to make the world a better place for you can make a difference. The task is daunting of course, but it is a necessary struggle.” That is missio dei. 

Today in Luke’s gospel, Jesus, his face set to Jerusalem, says to a large crowd, “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple…none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions – and follow me.”

These are tough words. Words not meant for those who prefer to have their cake and eat it too. Words that direct us to the stark reality of discipleship. Give up all your possessions; carry the cross; follow me. Words that push us beyond ourselves, beyond our comfort zones, and toward the challenging and often unpredictable life of bringing the church, missio dei, the mission of God, to the world.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer in The Cost of Discipleship writes, “In the gospels the very first step a man must take is an act which radically affects his whole existence.”

Discipleship. Living the life of a disciple, one who lays down their life to follow Christ - that is the hard part - the hardest part of missio dei.   

Discipleship radically disrupts our whole existence, and yet discipleship is the part to which we must pay close attention, perhaps more now than ever.

If we are to say, “a resounding no to racism, to injustice, to oppression, to hatred, to violence, to dictation and division.” If we are to say, “a loud reverberating “yes” to freedom, to forgiveness, to reconciliation, to peace, to unity.”  If we are truly to become a people of “many cultures, languages, and races… one nation, [indivisible], a rainbow people of God” then we must be fearless in our commitment to missio dei. We must take up the cross and follow Jesus. We must be the voice of God in the world. We must be the church. We must be open to hearing God’s call to us – God’s call for us. We must listen for God – listen for the divine.

Last week when I preached in the frigid early morning hours of the South African winter, I also spoke of the importance of listening for God’s call to and for us. In the Jeremiah passage, Jeremiah listened but did not like what he heard. He shouted out, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” But God did not let Jeremiah off the hook. God once again spoke to him saying, “Do not say I am only a boy; for you shall go to all whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you.” Then the Lord put out his hand and touched Jeremiah’s mouth; and the Lord said, “Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms to pluck up and pull down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.” 

What an astoundingly beautiful and powerful image – the Lord put out his and touched Jeremiah’s mouth. God put his words in Jeremiah’s mouth. This little piece from Jeremiah is proof positive that God does have a call for each and every one of us. A call that we can only hear through listening to the divine. And perhaps more importantly it is proof positive that God does not want to let us off the hook if we do not like his call. Not at all. 

But we are not alone in this call – this missio dei - that might seem too difficult to imagine. God is prepared to put his hand on our mouths and to fill us with the courage, endurance, hope, and love that is needed to be the church – the missio dei – however daunting it might seem. 

It is a scary business – very scary. But in our moments of fear and resistance, we must feel God’s hand on our mouths, we must call out as did the psalmist when he cried out to the Lord, “Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe; you are my crag and my stronghold.” We must go forth in faith understanding that it is only through following the very narrow path of discipleship, a path so easy to stray from, to fall away from, that we will be God’s voice in the world – missio dei. That we will be a community that becomes the image of God, a light to the world.

Almighty God, our heavenly Father, the privilege is ours to share in the loving, healing, reconciling mission of your Son Jesus Christ, our Lord, in this age and wherever we are. Since without you we can do no good thing.

May your Spirit make us wise;

May your Spirit guide us;

May your Spirit renew us;

May your Spirit strengthen us;

So that we will be:

Strong in faith,

Discerning in proclamation,

Courageous in witness,

Persistent in good deeds.

This we ask in the name of the Father.

 

Church of the Province of the West Indies.

 

 

 

 

The Cost of Discipleship

 Sermon delivered in South Africa on August 21, 2022

The Cost of Discipleship

“Grant, O merciful God, that your Church, being gathered together in unity by your Holy Spirit may show forth our power among all peoples, to the glory of your Name…”

What a powerfully concise yet complex summary of all that we as a church hope to accomplish in this time of world chaos. It is also, beloved brothers and sisters, an accurate expression of my prayers as I traveled thousands of miles, far, far from my home in Florida, to be with you and to continue my journey of seeking to identify ways in which we as a church can better shine the light of Christ throughout the world – all the world. A world blanketed in darkness. The darkness of poverty, war, displacement, socio-economic injustice, and the encroaching effects of climate change.

And so today as we gather in this sacred space, I pray that while coming together from vastly different cultures and yet worshipping the same God in quite similar ways and words, we can more fully experience our sameness in our desire for love of neighbor and peace on earth. Indeed, although each of us is unique in their own way, we are the same as we stand united as beloved children of God, and as Archbishop Tutu might say, united in creating a community that becomes the image of God, a light to the world.

This is not my first time in Africa. Several years ago, I traveled to Zambia to mentor an amazing young pastor, Victor Chimfwembe, as he organized a monthly medical clinic in a remote community several hours from Ndola. I can say without hesitation that Jesus was alive and well in the hearts and minds and souls of this incredible community living in abject poverty but filled through and through with hope and love, a direct result of their relationship with Christ – with God. I have had similar experiences in Haiti and in the Dominican Republic. Remote communities living in the most extreme poverty, amidst terrifying violence, and with little or no possibility for a better future, all coming together each Sunday to worship joyfully, their hearts and minds and souls filled with hope. A hope that stems from their faith in Jesus Christ – in God.

And of course, my work in the United States has led me to places and people so very different than me, and yet, in the end when I look into their eyes I see God, and I know that we are the same.

And today, Sunday, we along with so many people in so many places throughout the world are gathered in unity to strengthen our faith, to increase our hope and through prayer, song, participation in the Eucharist, and fellowship commit ourselves to a life of discipleship, a life of being sent into the world as a beacon of light and hope to those who live in darkness. To go into the world in peace to love and serve the Lord.

A life of discipleship. In many ways that is the hardest part. Living the life of a disciple, one who lays down their life to follow Christ - that is the hard part. Dietrich Bonhoeffer in The Cost of Discipleship writes, “In the gospels the very first step a man must take is an act which radically affects his whole existence.” Discipleship is the hard part, it radically disrupts our whole existence, and yet discipleship is the part to which we must pay close attention, perhaps more now than ever.

If we are to show forth God’s power among all peoples, if we are to be Christ’s disciples, we must be open to hearing God’s call to us – God’s call for us. And, if we are earnest in our desire to hear God’s call we must listen – listen for God – listen for the divine. Mother Teresa wisely tells us, “God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer."

Jeremiah listened and did not like what he heard. He shouted out, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” But God did not let Jeremiah off the hook. God once again spoke to him saying, “Do not say I am only a boy; for you shall go to all whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you.” Then the Lord put out his hand and touched Jeremiah’s mouth; and the Lord said, “Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms to pluck up and pull down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”

What an astoundingly beautiful and powerful image – the Lord put out his and touched Jeremiah’s mouth. God put his words in Jeremiah’s mouth. This little piece from Jeremiah is proof positive that God does have a call for each and every one of us. A call that we can only hear through listening to the divine. And perhaps more importantly it is proof positive that God does not want to let us off the hook if we do not like his call. Not at all. But we are not alone in this call that might seem too difficult to imagine. God is prepared to put his hand on our mouths and to fill us with the courage, endurance, hope, and love that is needed to carry out the work that he has given us to do – however challenging it might seem. He will watch over our going out and our coming in. He will be our refuge now and forever. 

I believe that those of us who are gathered here today have already heard God’s call for them and that each of us in our way, and in our own time is growing in their understanding of the meaning of their call and the impact that it will have on their lives if we are to follow it; if we are to take that first step that will radically change our lives. 

It is a scary business – very scary. But in our moments of fear and resistance, we must feel God’s hand on our mouths, we must call out as did the psalmist when he cried out to the Lord, “Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe; you are my crag and my stronghold.” We must remember that it is only through following the very narrow path of discipleship, a path so easy to stray from, to fall away from that we will achieve true discipleship.

We must remember the words of today’s collect as we follow our call to work together to create communities that are gathered together in unity by the Holy Spirit, and which show forth the church’s power among all peoples. The power of love and the hope of peace. The power of a community that becomes the image of God, a light to the world.

Divine Prayer

 

SERMON

August 07, 2022

Luke 12:32-40

I have been giving prayer a great deal of thought lately. What is the goal of prayer? How does one communicate with God to reach this goal? What does God want to hear from us as we pray? What words will reach him as we implore him to hear us? How will he take action in response to our petitions?

 I know that many of you are asking the same questions. I know because frequently you and I have discussed them, especially in times of crisis. And we St. Simonites are not the only ones asking these questions. Articles and blogs about prayer abound. Friends and family ponder aloud about the value of prayer. I even took a course that focused on what kind of prayer is most popular in today’s complex world.

 With all this reflection, reading, and discussion you might ask – what have you learned. What wisdom can you share with us?

This is what I can tell you – absolutely everyone, everyone in their own way, is yearning to hear God’s voice. We all want to hear God’s affirmation that despite the horrors of today’s tragedies – gun violence, war, natural disasters, and political unrest – that he is with us, that he loves us, that God understands our sufferings, that his love for us is ever present. That God’s love will heal our wounds and bring us – all of us – to a place of peace.

And so, as I sit in the quiet moments of my own attempts at prayer, I hear the words of Mother Teresa. “God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer." Michael Battle calls prayer “divine listening”. Listening is the beginning of prayer. Divine listening. This concept resonates with me. No longer do I view the first step of personal prayer as falling to our knees and engaging without ceasing in a litany of concerns and petitions. No. I now believe that the first steps of prayer are sitting in silence, allowing troubling thoughts and cares fall from our shoulders. Emptying ourselves in order to listen - listen for God to speak to us. Listen for God’s divine love and wisdom to enter our hearts, our minds, and our souls. Emptying ourselves in order to be filled with God’s forgiveness and love. Forgiveness and love that will spill over into the world as we go forth as disciples of Jesus, as children of God.

Of course, this new insight of mine is not unique – many others far more spiritually intelligent than I have come to the same conclusion. Mother Teresa, as quoted above and almost every other spiritual leader one can think of has concluded that prayer is an opening of the heart and mind to God’s Word. "The whole reason we pray is to be united into the vision and contemplation of the God to whom we pray," writes Julian of Norwich.

“To be united into the vision and contemplation of the God to whom we pray.” An incredibly powerful insight into the purpose of prayer.

Julian’s words urge us to pray not out of self-interest, but out of our desire to be united with God and his vision of us and for us. We, like the servants in Jesus’ parable who wait for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so they might open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks, must be dressed for action. Our lamps must be lit. We must be prepared through our divine listening to hear what God intends for us. Without such listening we will never be in a position to receive an answer to our cry for help. Our cry for direction. Our cry for peace. Without such listening we will fail to hear God’s call to us; God’s call for us.

And what is God’s call for us? I am quite sure that it is to love. To love ourselves and our neighbors as God loves us. To understand in the deepest part of our heart and soul that we are all – all - God’s beloved children. And perhaps most importantly to see clearly – so very clearly – the reality that while God loves us equally, he created us differently precisely so that in our difference we would realize our need each other. God’s call for us now is the same as it has been from the beginning of time. God’s call for us is to love one another as he loves us and to together, neighbor with neighbor, interdependently, to love and care for his beloved creation.

Jesus delivers this message repeatedly in almost all of his parables. Today in the brief passage from Luke that I just read, Jesus informs us that God expects us not only to be dressed for action, but also to sell our possessions and give alms. But let’s be clear, in this passage Jesus is not advocating handing over some small sum of money to those whom we perceive to be in need. No, he demands much more – much, much more. Jesus’ brand of almsgiving is a sacramental act of love; a way of expressing true and complete solidarity with others. Jesus is referring to sharing power and advantage with all God’s children. He is referring to becoming truly interdependent with the “other.” He is referring to the creation of a harmony of love and forgiveness among all despite our differences; a harmony that brings peace to God’s Creation. A peace that Creation yearns to experience in this time of fragmentation and divisiveness.  It is through this sort of almsgiving that God becomes present to all.

Listening for God, loving our neighbor, and giving alms to the needy at first glance may sound quite simple. Easy you say, “that is what I do every day.” But is it so easy?

Do we really listen – listen - for God’s call. Are we really in touch with God? Do we truly hear what he is calling us to do? What if we don’t like what we hear? Do we like the neighbors in the parable of the Good Samaritan block out, pass by, totally ignore what we don’t want to hear, see, or do? Do we understand that God’s commandment is to seek out the neighbor who needs our love, not the neighbor we choose to love?

Listening to and hearing God’s commandments can be disruptive to our lives. It can, and should, cause us discomfort. What happens when we hear what we don’t want to hear. Do we heed God’s call, whatever that might be, or do we pass God by and continue to respond to our call for ourselves?

Jesus sets the path for us. Time and again he finds ways to inform us of how we can and must respond to God’s call. His journey to Jerusalem and to the cross leaves no doubt in our minds; answering God’s call takes careful listening, courage, diligence, strength, and faith. If in our prayer life we ask God for anything at all we should be asking him to gift us with those characteristics. We should be asking him to prepare us, with lanterns lit, for the challenging work of discipleship in all aspects of our lives. Today’s collect sums it up so beautifully. Pease pray with me:

 “Grant to us, Lord, the spirit to think and to do always those things that are right, that we, who cannot exist without you, may by you be enabled to live according to your will.” AMEN

The wolf shall live with the lamb,

The leopard shall lay down with the kid,

the calf and the lion and the fatling together;

and a little child shall lead them.

The cow and the bear shall graze,

Their young shall lie down together,

And the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

(Isa. 11: 6, 7)