Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men

 SERMON – 01/03/2020

Throughout the world and certainly in America, the year 2020 was memorable for all the wrong reasons. Worldwide, as of December 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic had killed over 1.5 million people. In the U.S., during the same time period, there were over 315,000 deaths, with over 17 million people experiencing difficult and sometimes fatal symptoms as they recovered from this virulent disease.

The number of people affected by Covid-19 is staggering. The number of loved ones left behind – left behind in a morass of emotional and financial hardship – is mind-numbing. The emotional and physical effects of total isolation from family and friends imposed on thousands of the elderly housed in permanent care facilities, or simply living alone in in their own home, is heartbreaking - tragic.

 The economic impact of Covid-19 has yet to be calculated. However, just walking down the street of any town or city, or entering any mall, the number of darkened stores and restaurants speak for themselves. Jobs have been lost and careers that once seemed so promising are now irrelevant.

While the Covid-19 pandemic has ravaged the health and well-being of the American people, our governmental institutions have descended into a chaotic battle for power that threatens the very underpinnings of all that we as citizens of the U.S. know and love – a fair and just way of life.

As we make efforts to act with discipline in order to remain Covid-19 infection free, wearing masks, social distancing, and handwashing, we listen to endless broadcasts, filled with anxiety producing and anger provoking reports of political infighting and undisciplined and irresponsible comments designed to incite anger, hate, rebellion and rioting.

Without doubt, globally, and in the United States of America, the year 2020 was filled with challenges - anxiety, anger, and deep sadness. We yearned to put it all behind us. We yearned to go back to our normal way of life. Continually, we mouthed the hope – "certainly 2021 will be better."

Of course, "going back" is never possible, whatever the circumstances. And, of course, knowing what the future holds is equally impossible. Deep down we all know that. And yet, the fantasy of going back to better days in 2021 remains with us, despite the reality of the world around us – a world that most assuredly has forever changed. A world that has forever changed in ways that we cannot yet imagine.

However, despite all of this chaos and sadness, there is one constant. One steady presence that has not changed, that will never change. One constant that will be with us – be the same with us - always.

God the Father, who created us and who in a love that knows no bounds gave us the gift of his Son Jesus Christ.  The gift of a light that shines in the darkness. A light that darkness does not overcome. A light that points us to the way of peace – a peace not only between nations, but a peace that passes all understanding and that dwells deep within us and among us – all of us. A peace that, when experienced allows us to face life under any circumstances – any circumstances - with courage, creativity, commitment, and most importantly with love.

In Paul's letter to the Ephesians he writes to his converts, "I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe."

"I pray that with the eyes of your heart you may know the hope to which he has called you."

 "… the riches of his glorious inheritance,"

 "… the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe."

Stunningly powerful words. Have we listened to them carefully? Have we listened to them very carefully – with wisdom – with the eyes of our heart?

With faith in the Light of Christ deeply embedded in our hearts and souls, we have the ability – the power - to imagine ways to move beyond the chaos that so distracts us – so disrupts our world. The power to move forward in new ways, and to heal through word and deed. The power to lay aside egos, agendas, anger, and hatred, and in fellowship and unity heal through acts based in compassion and love.

The power of love – of healing - is ours for the asking. Christ has arrived. The Light is here. The Light of Christ, a light that the darkness cannot overcome, is with us. With us now and always.

On Christmas day in 1863 the great American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem called “Christmas Bells.” The Civil War had brought a backdrop of national despair. Longfellow himself had suffered the tragic death of his beloved wife just two years earlier. She had accidently set her dress on fire when sealing a letter with a ball of wax that she was softening with the flame of a candle. Longfellow’s son Charlie had suffered serious wounds in the Mine Run Campaign in Virginia. His recovery was painful and difficult.

Against the backdrop of the painful loss of his beloved wife, constant worry over the precarious recovery of his son, and in the midst of a great war that ultimately claimed more than 600,00 American lives, Longfellow wrote his poem. A poem that was ultimately set to music and is now a beloved hymn – “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
and wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."

Longfellow’s poem does not ignore the pain and suffering of his time, but in the end, it is filled with hope – the hope of “peace on earth, good-will to men.”

We cannot - indeed, we must not - ignore the suffering and pain that millions of people, worldwide, have experienced this past year. The pain and suffering that continues still, even in 2021, our hoped for “better year.”

But like Longfellow, we are called to look beyond this pain and suffering and with the eyes of our heart to know “the hope to which [Christ} has called [us]. The riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and the immeasurable greatness for us who believe.”

Jesus came to us to know us; to walk beside us; to share in our suffering and our pain; and, ultimately through his death on the cross to provide the light that will allow us to hear the bells on Christmas Day, and on every other day of the year.

The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men.”

            

Practicing our Theology

 

SERMON

St. Simon's on the Sound - Nov. 15, 2020

Well, you may be happy to know that I have completed my first course in General Theological Seminary's Doctor of Ministry program – completed and passed.

 In a manner of speaking, I am on my way. I might add that the "way" is indeed a long way, with many challenges to be faced.

My first class was one of a series of four progressive courses designed to focus on the foundations of practical theology. All fancy words aside, I have been reading and writing a great deal about theology over the course of the past seven weeks – a great deal.

Now before you groan too loudly, or sigh despondently, saying "theology, ugh", let me explain a few things.

There are really two distinct areas of theology – academic theology and practical theology. Academic theology, or the work of the universities and seminaries, is a field devoted to scholarly research that seeks to define God through an examination and systematic investigation of religious beliefs, behaviors, and institutions.

Names of academic theologians that you might recognize are Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine, and Martin Luther.

Practical theology, on the other hand, is an investigation of the ways in which we apply our Christian values, beliefs, and ways of being. It is an investigation of our personal theologies as they impact our daily lives.

The study of practical theology is devoted to the task of promoting, supporting, and sustaining lived discipleship rooted firmly in the Christian tradition. It does this by studying and describing lived theologies – the church’s practice of Christianity. It's a bit like anthropology. It is the study of how Christianity is actually lived out in the myriad cultures throughout our world.

The purpose of practical theology is to facilitate and improve organizational leadership within the Christian church as it prepares congregations to go out into the world and better practice Christianity.

This brief explication of practical theology is, obviously, a vast oversimplification of the pages and pages that have been written about it, and the myriad discourses that have, and still, take place in universities, seminaries, and churches throughout the world. However, I hope that my much oversimplified and brief definition is sufficient in pointing out the difference between academic theology and practical theology – or how we practice theology in the world.

Now that we are all crystal clear about the definition of practical theology, a key question for us today is: What is the practical theology that we as St. Simonites have developed?

How do we St. Simonites who worship, study, and interact as members of St. Simon's on the Sound develop a personal theology based on Scripture, teaching, and prayer; and then, how do we practice that theology among ourselves and in the world? How do we define that personal theology? How do we live it? What happens when it experiences jarring moments?

Of course, you have heard Father David and I preach about this concept – practical theology - hundreds of times. Just last week at our Annual Meeting Fr. David spoke of the importance of taking our St. Simon’s lived theologies – our Christian values, beliefs, and ways of being developed through our life together, here at St. Simon’s -  out into the community in ways that will encourage healing from divisiveness and anger. Ways that will bring Christ's love to a hurting world.

In his Annual Meeting charge to the congregation, Father David was asking us to “practice” our faith-based theologies – to engage in what is known as practical theology. To love our neighbors as ourselves – all of them. To live our theology.

St. Paul was of course the champion of practical theology. Paul spent the better part of his life trekking miles and miles throughout the Roman Empire, experiencing one hardship after another, all with the passionate intent of establishing Christian communities. Communities eager to hear his message about a Jew named Jesus who spoke of a God who offered salvation – freedom from sin and eternal life in his heavenly kingdom.

And he was wildly successful. As a “one-man show” preaching the good news – the gospel of Jesus Christ – Paul established Christian churches throughout the Empire. Christian communities that lived a Christ-centered theology of hospitality to all – welcoming the stranger and showing though word and deed the love and compassion of Christ. Love and compassion for all – regardless of social status or place of birth.

Paul's work was unceasing. He did not rest once a community had been established. Rather he left identified leaders behind and continued on to the next community to be converted to this new and exciting information brought by Jesus.

Wherever he traveled, Paul never lost touch with his beloved communities. Through his network of followers, he received ongoing news – kind of a constant contact weekly newsletter sent via communication systems of the times. Importantly, Paul didn’t just receive news, he sent letters responding to what he had learned about conditions of the churches he had left behind. He never stopped loving; he never stopped teaching. His commitment to Jesus Christ was unceasing.

Paul’s Letter to the Thessalonians was written during his lengthy stay in Corinth. This letter must have been a joy for Paul to write for the church in Thessalonica was doing well. Paul writes to them, “But you, beloved, are not in darkness…for you are all children of the light and children of the day.” This church has held onto Paul’s teachings about God and Christ as the way to God’s eternal kingdom. Christ’s pathway to salvation. They have held on – firmly – to their newfound faith.

Paul continues, “But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and a helmet for the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.”

Paul warns that although things may be going along smoothly at the moment, this will not always be the case. There will be difficult moments. Moments that are jarring to their faith – their newly minted Christian theologies. The going can and probably will be tough even for those who believe. Strong armor is needed if faith is to remain steady and solid.

And finally, Paul says, “Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.”

Encourage one another and build up each other…Paul knew those two thousand years ago the strength of distractions that lead us away from Christ in this world. He understood this so clearly. He told us to clothe ourselves with protective armor. And, most importantly and realistically he insisted on the importance of a strong community. One in which members were continually supporting each other in their faith.

Paul knew that communal encouragement and support was, and of course continues to be, absolutely necessary to holding on to faith as one journeys through the world each day; and as one practices their personal theologies and relays to their home communities through word and deed the good news of Jesus Christ.

Today’s take away point is this: Paul understood that in order to practice the theology of the Good News, one must have ongoing and strong support from their church community. Personal theologies and the way in which we practice them once we leave church are highly dependent on the teachings and love that we receive from our life together here at St. Simon’s. This particular House of God is our foundation and our stronghold. As such it is more valuable than we can imagine.

It is here at St. Simon’s that we develop a personal theology founded upon the cornerstone of our Christian commitment to loving our neighbor as ourselves. A personal theology that never loses sight of compassion and love. A personal theology that encourages us and supports us in our role as disciples – our life as the hands, feet, and voice of Christ in the world.

In this time of Covid 19, a time in which we are separated in so many ways, including our ability to be together as a community here at St. Simon's, holding on to our faith, our hope, our love of neighbor can be challenging.

Our role as lonely warriors for Christ cast into the angry swirl of life that currently surrounds us can be unspeakably difficult. Overcoming the fear, anxiety, anger, depression, and the long-term effects of social isolation and social distancing – overcoming these dangerous, dangerous side-effects of this Covid time does indeed require heavy armor. I am quite certain that Paul would agree most wholeheartedly.

But God is with us – always and forever. We must hang onto to that knowledge.

And I believe we must take every opportunity to be together, safely, here at St. Simon’s – and, of course on Zoom when necessary – to worship, to study, to reflect, and to discuss. To keep Christ vibrantly alive in our lives – alive in the practice of our personal theologies - we must seek and receive support from our St. Simon’s community members. We must use the blessing of our church community to give us the strength to keep love, justice, and peace alive in the communities in which we live.

As I write this sermon, the nation continues to suffer from ways of being so antithetical to Christ’s teachings. It is, for me at least, hard to focus, hard to cling to hope for healing.

To divert from distressing thoughts, I imagine Paul sitting with his friend and scribe Timothy. Paul rises and walking back and forth begins to dictate a letter. Timothy writes, furiously trying to keep pace with Paul's quickly spoken thoughts.

Paul's letter reads:

“To my beloved at St. Simon’s on the Sound in Ft. Walton Beach, Florida, I write to you in this troubled time to give thanks for your steadfast love of each other. And I pray that you will continue to have the strength and the courage to show that love to each other and to your neighbors. Do not be distracted by worldly matters that cause you to fail in your commitment to our Lord, Jesus Christ. Your life as his disciple is your salvation. May you be blessed with a strong heart filled with love, and a deep desire to bring the peace of God – a peace that passes all understanding – to all whom you encounter. Your faithful servant, Paul.”

Shall we write back, and say, “Beloved Paul, we will practice this theology diligently. Peace to you.”

 

The Mind of Christ

 

SERMON

Proper 21 – Year A

As many of you know, I am embarking on what has become in recent years my life’s dream – I am now enrolled in a Doctor of Ministry Program at General Theological Seminary. A big step indeed – a three to four-year commitment, with the mandate of a dissertation worthy of publication to graduate. Yikes….

 Years ago, when I was studying for my master’s degree in Social Work there was a heavy emphasis on going beyond the master’s program. Back then a doctoral degree was the way to go. A doctorate gave you status and opened doors that a plain old master’s degree would never pass through. It was the logical next step in life.

 Being me, I did not go the traditional route. Sponsored by a good friend of mine who was also a psychiatrist, I went to work immediately. Working with him I established a private practice and began teaching at New York University School of Social Work. I was busy working, bringing up my daughter, and enjoying New York City to the fullest.

After twelve years of private practice and teaching, I left New York City on the first leg of what was, now as I look back on it, an incredible adventure of working in many places with many people. As I think about these years, I am astounded by how many life adventures I packed in – I would not change a thing.

 I tell you this abbreviated life history to set the background of why the doctoral program at General is so important to me – why it has become my life’s dream.

 So, bear with me.

 Those many years ago when I finished my master’s I was incredibly young. More importantly, I was the product of an extremely privileged and sheltered background. Although I had traveled extensively, I knew nothing about the world and the people who lived in it. Perhaps most significantly I had not yet encountered God. Looking back, I cannot imagine what I would have achieved by getting a doctoral degree at that point in time. Nothing really, I am quite sure. Nothing more than a title that brought with it prestige and money.

 Paul’s exhortation to the Philippians would have fallen on deaf ears.

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus Christ.”

 “Let the same mind be in you that is in Jesus Christ.” What powerful words. Words that so concisely inform the way we are meant to live our lives. Keep those words in your mind, we are coming back to them.

 And so, the years passed by quickly as I ventured from place to place; remarkably self-centered and completely unaware of the goings-on in the world around me. During this time, I am sad to say that I paid little attention to God, but I now understand with every fiber of my being that he was paying a great deal of attention to me.

 How do I know that God was paying attention to me…well for one thing in the early 1990s I collided with the Holy Spirit. It was quite a collision. My life zigged off in a completely different direction, and I have not been the same since. In the barren and poverty-stricken Lower Rio Grande Valley the Holy Spirit entered my heart and my mind. In a moment – a split second - I saw, heard, and experienced life from a vastly different point of view.

A uniquely blessed man of small stature but great heart named Deacon Albert took me from zero to 90 in my understanding what I believe Paul meant when he said, “Let the same mind be in you that is in the mind of Christ.”

During my years in Texas, the God planted mustard seed took root. That smallest of seeds, God in me, took root and it began to grow, and grow, and grow. I grew into a new life space, and as I moved into this new space my relationship with Jesus became central to the way in which I encountered and interacted with the world.

I began to see – to understand – the many challenges that face the world and the incredible barriers that exist for the millions throughout the world who are seeking refuge in God’s kingdom. God’s kingdom here on earth. And with this new vision has come a quest. A quest so neatly described by Paul in his Letter to the Philippians:

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus Christ.”

And so, we arrive at the “why” of my embarking on a Doctor of Ministry Program at this moment in time. Now, a doctorate has a purpose for me. Not prestige or money, but rather the enhanced skill of thinking critically, the growth of my knowledge base regarding pressing social justice issues, and the tools to develop a strong and informed voice with which to impart this knowledge. A voice that carries with it God at work in me. A voice based in a deep faith in God. A voice that proclaims a Christian mode of action that forms an alternative society. A society based in love.

 A society that is in the same mind as the mind of Christ.

You may ask, why do I offer this brief life review today? And, I will say because its outcome for me has everything to do with who we all urgently must become at this moment in time. We all, every one of us, need to be in the same mind as the mind of Christ. A mind filled with compassion and love. We must listen carefully to the God in us, and work for his good pleasure.

As we move closer to the November 3^rd elections there will be an increase in the bitter dialogue that wants us to believe that our voting systems are faulty or fraudulent; that sinister conspiracies have distorted the political will of the people; that our public discourse has been perverted by the news media and social networks riddled with prejudice, lies and ill will; that judicial institutions, law enforcement and even national security have been twisted, misused and misdirected to create anxiety and conflict, not justice and social peace.

We must vigorously avoid this rhetoric. We must not let it guide our hearts, our minds, and our actions. We must not follow the example of the chief priests and elders of Matthew’s gospel. Leaders of their community too afraid of consequences; too afraid to recognize Jesus as the authority; the voice of God. We must not be too afraid to stand strong and do the work that God has given us to do – to love our neighbor and sow seeds not of hatred but of peace.

We must not be too afraid to dismiss from our hearts and minds negative and destructive forces that are so present in so many discussions and in all media. We must focus on the love with which God created the universe and mankind and the firm faith that carried Christ to the cross. We must be of like mind. We must have firm faith and allow that faith to guide us in understanding how to respond to our national dilemma.

It is up to us as a Christian community to be Christ in the world. Calm, faithful; knowing that if we stay focused on God, he will show us the way – a non-violent way – forward.

It is up to us to be a community that is in the same mind as the mind of Christ.

 

 

Let us offer abundance...

Sermon

August 02, 2020

Proper 13

Matthew 14:13-21

I don't know about you – but I do know about me, and I am tired. Tired of the anxieties, worries, and concerns that surround the unceasing pandemic of Covid 19.  Anxieties over contracting the virus ourselves. Worries over friends and families who have been infected, many of whom have died. Concerns for the state of our mental health, and that of others, as we head into month six of self-imposed isolation and social contact only through the gift of the Internet.

Yes, I am tired, and perhaps you are too.

But when I began to reflect on today's gospel reading something interesting happened to me. And, to a great extent my tiredness fell away. What happened, well here it is…For some reason, Jesus came vibrantly alive in a new way for me.

When I say came alive in a vibrant and new way, I mean that I saw Jesus as a fellow human being. A young man attempting to convey to those whom he encountered Good News. News that addressed the pain and the suffering that the Jews in Galilee were experiencing at the hands of the Roman Empire. The Good News that the one God of the Jewish faith – the sovereign God who brought the world into being, who blessed Abraham to be a blessing to all nations; the God who brought the Israelites back from exile – that God was present - always. Present continually to bless and heal. Present continually to bring peace to all those who turned to him.

This young man, poor, dusty, and with "no place to lay his head." This young man whose relationship with God sent him into our world to relentlessly and with incredible courage teach, heal, and guide us into a right relationship with God – this young man in the face of all that he had and would encounter, this young man must be really tired.

Just prior to today's gospel reading that relates the story of the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus had been discredited and rejected by the people of his hometown, Nazareth, as he taught in the local synagogue. Unable to "do many works because of their unbelief", he quickly left Nazareth, only to hear that his close friend, John the Baptist, the man whom he had asked to baptize him, had been beheaded by Herod.

After these two events this young man needed some alone time. He found himself on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. It is there that today's gospel story begins.

I imagine Jesus getting into a small wooden boat and silently drifting out into the Sea of Galilee trying to adsorb the events of the past few days, reflecting on to what and to where God was calling him next - wanting just a bit of time to be with God, to pray, to re-group, to gather the strength to carry on. In this little boat he had found a quiet place – a place to spend some alone time.

And then before he knew it, crowds surrounded him. They had followed him on foot from surrounding towns. They were yearning for his healing words, for his message of hope in these times of Roman domination.

And this tired young man responded to the crowd's yearning with compassion. Matthew tells us, "When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick." And, as evening drew near, the disciples urged Jesus to send the crowd away. They knew that people must be hungry and tired. Perhaps they were afraid of unrest among some of the more unruly members of the crowd – remember there were reportedly 5000 people. That is a big crowd with a lot of diversity within it.

The disciples said to Jesus, "This place is deserted, and the hour is already late. Send the multitudes away, that they may go into the villages, and buy themselves food."

Jesus said to them, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." "You." Jesus lays it on the shoulders of the disciples to find the resources to feed the crowd.

The disciples, perhaps somewhat bewildered, responded, "We only have here five loaves and two fish." The disciples were seeing only what they did not have. They failed to consider what they did have. As one sermon writer suggested, "The disciples have five loaves and two fish – seven items. In the disciples' hands, five loaves and two fish are not much, but there are other hands here – Jesus' hands. They really have eight items."

Jesus ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And "all ate and were filled."

Amazing – an amazing story of compassion, abundance, and a foretaste of the Eucharistic meal. Also a story reminiscent of the manna miracle; the edible substance that God provided for the Israelites during their travels in the desert during the 40-year period following the Exodus and prior to the conquest of Canaan.

Today's gospel passage conveys a story of compassion. Jesus saw the crowd, had compassion on them, and healed those who were sick.

It is an abundance story in which God's providence solves a problem that seems impossibly large.

It is also a Eucharistic story with its overtones of the Lord's Supper.

In all, it is a continuation of the story of this young man, Jesus of Nazareth. A young man who, despite his need for time alone after being rejected by his townspeople and hearing of the brutal death of his friend John the Baptist, rose to his call from God. A tired young man who in compassion was moved to respond to those who sought comfort and healing; to those who were seeking God. A tired young man who insisted that his disciples participate in offering the incredible abundance that becomes possible when asking the blessing of God. A tired young man who knows only one way – the way of compassion and peace. The way of love and the way of forgiveness. The way of God, not the way of the Empire.

It is this young Jesus that came so vividly alive in my mind this past week. And as I reflected on the possibilities that may have given rise to this story, which by the way appears in all four gospels, I thought more and more about the importance of listening for and responding to God's call for us, his disciples, no matter how tired we may be.

I also thought about the disciples' fear that they lacked enough food – enough to provide for the crowd. I thought about Jesus' insistence that they bring the loaves to him for God's blessing. And then, his command that they distribute the bread – the disciples, not Jesus, were to do the work of providing for the crowd.

That brings me back to the concept of "tired."

Am I, are we, too tired by – that could translate into too numbed by – the dual pandemics – Covid 19 and political unrest - to listen for God's voice in the tsunami of media messages that wash over us each day? Are we too tired to make the effort to take our concerns, our anxieties, our fears – our scarcities -to God? Are we too tired to realize that once presented to God these scarcities are frequently turned into abundance for us to distribute to those who have appeared on our horizon seeking healing - seeking God?

Are we too tired to have the hope that by lifting our voices to God – all of us together asking for abundance – too tired to have the hope that we will bring forth the compassion and healing that the young man from Nazareth has to offer? Are we too tired to realize that healing is possible but only if we get out of our boat and go into the field to meet scarcity head-on, knowing that Jesus has blessed us and has commanded us – his disciples – to distribute the bread, the abundance – the healing and the peace.

Are we too tired to allow abundance to prevail?

I now have the vivid image of this young man, Jesus, firmly implanted in my mind. I am still tired, but I know that I can overcome this tiredness, if I just get up and go. Jesus is there to heal my tiredness and to bless my scarcity so that it becomes abundance. With abundance, I, we, can do so much in this broken world.

The fallout from the unceasing presence Covid 19 and political unrest continues to take a great toll on the health – physical, socio-political, and economic of our nation. The on-going bickering that pervades every level of society and is the order of the day on so many different social media platforms has created an atmosphere of disinformation, anxiety, and mistrust of every aspect of society and government.

I believe we have a right to be tired, but we cannot be tired. The young man is out of the boat. He is in the field with a crowd of 5000. He is asking us to distribute abundance. An abundance that will lead to healing and freedom from scarcity.  AMEN

Try and find Jesus on your own...

SERMON

Sunday Closest to July 5

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. 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

Our Jubilee Year

Sermon

Seventh Sunday of Easter

St. Simon's on the Sound Episcopal Church

John 17:1-11

Early this year – pre-Covid-19 – Bishop Russell convened a Jubilee Year Celebration Committee whose purpose was to design festivities that would take place throughout 2020 and culminate in a glorious weekend of events. The weekend would include a panel discussion with Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy and our Presiding Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Michael Curry; and a Revival Service celebrated and preached by Bishop Curry.

The Jubilee Year celebration activities were intended to be an exciting and joyful way to mark our diocese's 50^th Anniversary. A way to look at the past, consider the present, and imagine the future of the Episcopal Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast. A way to Remember, Reorient, and Renew

The committee made great progress. They planned monthly activities designed to focus on specific topics such as history of the diocese and creation care activities undertaken by our various congregations. The monthly themed activities would take us from February to December and our Jubilee Year Revival Service to be held at the Pensacola Bay Center.

Well, immediately after we began our first month's activities Covid-19 descended upon us. And so, we ceased in-person worship, and all activities designed for communal participation disappeared from our horizon. For the time being anyway the committee's hard work and hopeful dreams for a year of remembering, reorienting and renewing were dashed upon the harsh necessity of separation and isolation. The cessation of all corporate worship and communal activities.

However, amidst all the dashed plans one remnant remained; the dormant vestige of a plan that was intended to be carried out in a time quite different from this Covid-19 world in which we now live. A remnant that remains as the closing collect offered in our Prayers of the People. A collect that we have yet to acknowledge for its relevance – its stunning importance – at this beleaguered point in time.

The collect reads: Lord God of all creation, fill us with your grace as we remember your kindness and goodness to us, through providence and through struggle; and let the trumpets proclaim the year of the Jubilee, a year of the Lord's favor, as we dedicate ourselves to reorient our mission efforts to renew your Gospel in our midst. May your Spirit inspire us we pray in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN.

According to the Book of Leviticus, every 50 years would be a Jubilee year. A year in which Hebrew slaves and prisoners would be freed, debts would be forgiven, and the mercies of God would be particularly manifest. In other words, it was a year of celebration; a year of thanking God for the gifts of abundance bestowed on us; a year of resting and renewing – of preparing for the future.

Our diocesan Jubilee collect addresses these activities: …fill us with your grace as we remember your kindness and goodness to us, through providence and through struggle; and let the trumpets proclaim the year of the Jubilee, a year of the Lord's favor, as we dedicate ourselves to reorient our mission efforts to renew your Gospel in our midst. May your Spirit inspire us…

If ever there was a time when we needed to be filled with God's grace, it is now. If ever there was a time when we needed to remember God's kindness and goodness towards us, it is now. If ever there was a time when we needed to reorient our mission efforts to renew the Gospel in our midst, it is now. If ever there was a time when we needed the Spirit to inspire us, it is now.

I find this collect – this dormant remnant of a different time and a different reality – to be of critical relevance to this time - this Covid-19 reality.

Our lives lived in relative isolation from each other for the past 10 weeks have been incredibly stressful. Overnight, we have gone from believing that we were in control of our lives to a dead zone in which nothing is clear and much is being lost, or at the very least cast into jeopardy.

Simple decisions such as whether or not to go to the grocery store are fraught with anxiety, and yes, perhaps danger. Jobs and/or retirement funds are no longer secure. Visits to loved ones who may be dying in hospital or nursing homes are prohibited. Plans to visit family and long anticipated vacation adventures have been eliminated. Life as we knew it has disappeared. We are, whether we want to admit it or not, in shock. We have and are experiencing trauma in its Nth degree.

We are very much in the same boat as the bewildered apostles when they asked Jesus, "Lord is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?" How must they have felt when he answered, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority."

As we move through this Covid-19 challenge we are continually asking, "Lord, is this the time when will this be over. When will we be restored to normal?" Jesus offers us the same response that he has always offered, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority."

Our feeling of anxiety, fear, anger, and confusion are ever present. God's plans and timeline are as always obscure – unknown. It is not for us to know God's plans.

But we may – indeed we must - take comfort in the knowledge that Christ abides in us, and we in Christ. That we are one and as such we are given strength, courage, power, and are capable of being Christ's witnesses in the world – no matter what the circumstances. The power of the Holy Spirit is with us and in us – always. Christ with us - always. We are beloved children of God – always.

That is why this Jubilee collect is still so very relevant despite the dramatically changed circumstances of its creation. This is most assuredly a time to remember God's kindness and goodness towards us, through providence and through struggle.

This is most assuredly a time to dedicate ourselves to reorient our mission efforts – our efforts to spread the Good News through word and deed.

This is most assuredly a time to pray for the Spirit to inspire us. To give us courage to overcome the challenge of Covid-19 anxieties and fears by experiencing Christ within us and with us in the here and now. By listening for and being guided by the Holy Spirit in the here and now.

The here and now is our reality. It is not our "new" normal. It is life as we know it in the here and now and it will change; and keep changing. It will not go back to the "old" normal and we have no way of imagining what a "new" normal will be. Indeed, a new normal may be, at least for the near future, a state of continual change.

What is clear is that we must not stop living. We must not stop loving our neighbor. We must not stop being God's people in the world. We must not stop reorienting ourselves to this new and challenging world. We must not stop renewing our vows as Christ's anointed. We must not – not ever – stop listening to and being inspired by the Holy Spirit – our advocate – our gift from God.

Perhaps, more than originally conceived, this is the Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast's Jubilee Year. Perhaps this Covid-19 challenge with its mandate that we pause from the hectic turmoil of our everyday life is God's way of placing us in a position that forces us to remember, reorient, and renew.

Will we step up to the challenge? Will we with courage, strength, and the inspiration that comes to us through the Holy Spirit let go of the "old" normal and live with the reality of today and the uncertainty of tomorrow? Will we allow our imaginations to take us into new and exciting ways to spread God's good news, his love, into a world that is so filled with pain?

Should we be able to come together in a Jubilee Year Revival Celebration in December, will we be celebrating our good works of the year past? Will we be a people expressing through song and prayer the joy and bounty that we have reaped despite the overwhelming challenges of Covid-19? Will we be celebrating the remembering, reorienting, and renewing of God's Kingdom in the Episcopal Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast?

Lord God of all creation, fill us with your grace as we remember your kindness and goodness to us, through providence and through struggle; and let the trumpets proclaim the year of the Jubilee, a year of the Lord's favor, as we dedicate ourselves to reorient our mission efforts to renew your Gospel in our midst. May your Spirit inspire us we pray in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN.

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.