Rome Loses...

 

SERMON - April 16, 2023

John 20:1931

Today we hear yet another familiar gospel reading, one sometimes referred to as the Doubting Thomas story. For the purposes of a sermon on what is often identified as “low Sunday,” the Sunday after Easter when the clergy are still in recovery mode, it is an easy way out to concentrate our remarks on Thomas’s doubts. However, in doing so we fail to dig a bit deeper into the multi-layered meaning of this critically important text.

So, in preparation for today’s sermon I veered away from Thomas and spent quite a bit of time reflecting on and reading about the theology of Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, and subsequent appearance in that Galilean locked room. The room in which the disciples had sequestered themselves for fear of their own lives. The more I studied the more I realized that Thomas and his doubts were only a very small part of the story. A story that affirms in every way the incredibly important message that is centered in the affirmation of Jesus as Lord – Lord over the Roman Empire, its hunger for power and its oppression of the people. And a story about what it means to follow Jesus; to understand fully the meaning of Jesus as “the way.”

Let me start to unravel John’s critically important story with a quote from Richard Horsley’s book, “Jesus and Empire.” “The Roman governors, however, were quick to dispose of leaders and movements that even gave the appearance of a threat to the imperial order…That Jesus was crucified by the Roman governor stands as a vivid symbol of his historical relationship with the Roman imperial order. From the Roman’s point of view, they had decisively humiliated and terrorized his followers and other Galileans and Judeans with this shameful and painful method of execution of a brazen rebel.” (Horsley, p. 130-131)

Horsley goes on to say, “Although the empire had executed Jesus, the empire did not have the last word, by any means, so far as his followers were concerned. This can be seen in several branches of the Jesus Movement.” (132) 

Horsely is but one of many New Testament scholars who are quite clear, Jesus was betrayed and executed by the Romans, not the Jews. The Jews from Galilee and the Jews living in and around Jerusalem were Jesus’ followers. To them Jesus’ teachings proclaiming the Kingdom of God as an alternative way of life, an alternative to the Roman power over and oppression of their lives, the Roman control over their land and their well-being filled them with great hope.

And so, those who had turned all of their hope, their very hearts and souls, to the teachings of their beloved rabbi, were, of course, terrified of what the Romans and the High Priests and the Jewish leaders whom the Romans controlled, would do to them now that Jesus was with them no longer.

“The doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked

 for fear of the leaders.”

Were they being targeted as well? Would someone betray them? Would someone give them up to the Romans? Would they be next in line for crucifixion? Perhaps it would be a good idea to go into hiding.

“The doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked

for fear of the leaders.”

I don’t know about you, but in a similar situation, I would certainly hide behind locked doors. My mouth would be dry. I would feel queasy, anxious, frightened, and quite alone. I would be scared!

Imagine how scared the disciples must have been.

And then, as they tried to remain calm and settle in for the evening, Jesus was suddenly among them. And as they, in absolute wonder, experienced his presence he said to them, “Peace be with you.” Actually, Jesus probably used the Hebrew term Shalom for this greeting.  Shalom translated into English in it broadest sense means peace. However, it can also be interpreted as referring to the well-being, welfare, or safety of an individual or a group of individuals. Jesus appearance and his greeting of shalom calmed the disciples.

Perhaps more importantly Jesus’ appearance was a firm acknowledgment of the triumph of God’s kingdom’s over the Roman Empire. The alternative way proclaimed by Jesus, God’s way of love and justice for the oppressed, had prevailed. Bishop N. T Wright, the brilliant New Testament scholar writes, “The resurrection completes the inauguration of God's kingdom… It is the decisive event demonstrating that God's kingdom really has been launched on earth as it is in heaven…The message of Easter is that God's new world has been unveiled in Jesus Christ and that you're now invited to belong to it.”… Christ's resurrection doesn't mean escaping from the world; it means mission to the world based on Jesus's lordship over the world.” 

The late Marcus Borg, another brilliant New Testament scholar, in his book, “The Last Week”, devotes an entire chapter to the resurrection story. He views it from the point of view of a parable and writes, “Believe whatever you want about whether the stories happened this way – now let’s talk about what they mean…Two themes run through these stories that sum up the central meaning of Easter. The first in a concise phrase is “Jesus lives.” He continues to be experienced after his death, though in a radically new way. The second is “God has vindicated Jesus”. God has said “yes” to Jesus against the powers who killed him…In the words of the earliest and most widespread post-Easter affirmation about Jesus in the New Testament, Jesus is Lord. And if Jesus is Lord, the lords of this world are not.” (Borg, pp. 204-206)

Our proclamation that Jesus, is Lord of lords and King of kings takes on new meaning. It shines a brilliant light on the victory of God’s kingdom over the tyranny of the Roman Empire. God bestowed on Jesus a name above all names.

Therefore, God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:9-11)

Jesus' command that we take up our cross and follow him and our affirmation that Jesus is ‘The Way” takes on a clear and urgent meaning. If Jesus has proclaimed an alternative way, that then must be our way. A way that provides an alternative to injustice, domination, oppression. A peaceful yet courageous way that has every confidence that Jesus is with us as we follow him in faith and diligent intention, as if we were part of the Palm Sunday procession entering Jerusalem, coming face to face with the imperial procession, and knowing that a battle for justice must ensue.

Jesus appeared in the locked room, not once, but twice. These appearances were intended to assure all of his disciples that his presence with them would never cease. It was meant to solidify their faith. 

Perhaps some of us have also experienced an appearance of Jesus in our lives. I know I have. It changed my life. It left me with a commitment to the alternative way that is unbending and enduring. I hope that you have been so blessed. But whether we have experienced Jesus with us, or not, we are blessed because we believe in him.

Jesus’ words to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet come to believe” apply to us as well. 

Jesus’ appearance in the locked room affirms the alternative way. The way of peace, compassion, and justice for all. To proclaim Jesus as Lord of lords and King of kings is our way of saying we have the faith and the courage to be in the procession. It affirms our commitment to the alternative way. The way that denies the oppression of empire. 

Almighty and everlasting God, who in the Paschal mystery established the new covenant of reconciliation: Grant that all who have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ's Body may show forth in their lives what they profess by their faith; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

 

 

 

Foot Washing - An Act Of Love

 

Sermon 04/06/2023 -- Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-17; 31b-35

Tonight’s gospel reading, John’s version of the last supper and the washing of his disciples feet is, I am sure, just as familiar to you as it is to me. As a deacon I have read this gospel at Maundy Thursday services in five different churches a total of 13 times, and I have preached on it in those same churches no fewer than 10 times.

As you can imagine, in situations like this it is tempting for the preacher, whoever they might be, to look back, dust off a favorite sermon from the past, and heave a sigh of relief that a sermon “short-cut” is at hand. I mean, what more can there be to say after 10 sermons on the same scripture passage?

So, as I once again read through John’s account of this last meeting between Jesus and the twelve disciples, I thought, “O wow what am I going to say this year?” Am I going to focus on the foot washing or the commandment – or, what?

After some thought I decided to discipline myself and read and then re-read the passage five times, pausing after each reading to reflect and write down a word or two.

As those of you who enjoy the discipline of lectio divina know full well, each time we read Scripture we hear the words and understand each story in a new light and through new lenses. And the very same held true for me earlier last week as I re-read John’s description of this incredible moment in time. The story of the last supper, the foot washing, and Jesus’ exhortation of a new commandment when he said: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another.”

In the end, putting together tonight’s sermon sent me on quite a journey. A journey that led me to new insights and new ways of thinking about Jesus and his disciples last evening together. Even more than new insights and new ways of interpreting the events of the evening, however, was the new lens through which I now saw Jesus as he interacted with his disciples at this critical moment in time, teaching them and modeling behavior for them, even as he faced immanent arrest, torture, and a certain humiliating death on the cross.

Let me start at the beginning of my sermon journey. My first inclination was to focus this year on Jesus’ humility. The phrase “…[he] got up from the table, took off his outer robe and tied a towel around himself” popped out at me in new and quite graphic ways. I read this amazing act of humility through and through and gradually an image of Jesus sitting at the long wooden table, gazing at his disciples as they finished their last meal together, wondering how he might further demonstrate to them the way in which, through him, God loved them and called them to love others in the same way became startingly clear.

I found my breath taken away as I imagined this young man, the Son of God, the Messiah, deciding to humble himself to the lowest possible denominator, that of a slave, in order to demonstrate his love of these few ragged followers whom he was about to leave behind. The kind of love we call agape love, the highest form of love, charity, and the love of God for man and of man for God.

What must Jesus have been thinking? What must he have been feeling? In my limited imagination I envisioned a man who, despite facing the immanence of his own brutal death, was filled with passion, hope, and an urgent desire to convey God’s message of love to mankind. Perhaps a man a bit tormented. Torn between deep passion and deep frustration. A passion of commitment to teach and a frustration that his disciples continually failed to apprehend his teachings.

All of these imaginings brought me to the second stage of my sermon journey. I wondered, is John’s gospel primarily about humility, or is it primarily about passion and love? After all, the passage begins with a statement about Jesus’ love for his disciples. “…Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” The text moves on to describe the meal and then the foot washing before closing with the statement, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

I thought about the foot washing and wondered about its placement after the meal. Foot washing in Jesus’ time normally occurred before the meal. It was performed as an act of hospitality and cleansing. Since in John’s account it occurs after the meal it must have had an alternative meaning.

My research led me to a journal article entitled “The Meaning of Jesus Washing the Feet of His Disciples.” In it, author Jan van der Watt writes, “[We have argued] that the emphasis in the foot washing narrative…should be placed not on humble service as such, but on the nature of intense love…Foot washing has a clear meaning as a key to the rejection of social hierarchy and a new form of social relationships based on Jesus. These new relationships, defined by the intense love Jesus has for his own, are expressed in service to one another…[as expressed] in the words of Jesus, ‘A new commandment I give you, that you love one another: as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.’”

Van der Watt points out that tonight’s gospel reading is framed by passages that address love, opening with “…Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” And concluding with “A new commandment I give you, that you love one another: as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.”

He concludes, and I agree, that the foot washing was an act of extreme and passionate love. An act that furnished for the disciples, and today furnishes for us, a model of just what love actually looks like. The tenderness, the caring, the touching, and yes, the humility that comprises acts of love that have no boundaries. Love that knows no class, no skin color, no judgment. Love that is the very same love that God has for all his beloved children – no matter who, no matter where.

In just a few moments we will be invited to wash each other’s feet. Frankly, this has never been a popular activity anywhere that I have ever been. Indeed, at two of the churches I served there was no foot washing at all during the course of the Maundy Thursday service. The entire focus was on the stripping of the altar.

But we here at St. Simon’s include this act of love of neighbor in our Maundy Thursday liturgy each year. We include it because we believe that as disciples of Christ, we are called to love each other as he loved us – not just when it is easy to do so, but also when it is difficult and most humbling to do so. Indeed, it is in the most humbling of moments that we truly see God and God’s love, as he becomes alive in our act of serving and loving the other.

As we leave this holy place tonight and go silently into the darkness of night contemplating the death of the church – the crucifixion of Jesus – what will we carry in our hearts?

Will we keep in our mind’s eye the image of a passionate and loving Jesus who despite facing immanent death calmly knelt before his beloved disciples in humble, passionate, and loving servitude, modeling for them through the concrete action of foot washing his teaching of loving each other as he loved us – as God loved us?

Will we continue to experience the passion of that love as it is shown through all aspects of the incarnation. Will we carry it forward as we struggle as a community with worldly matters that confuse, frustrate, and so frequently tear us apart? Will we carry that message of love forward teaching others through our concrete actions just as Jesus who also struggled with complex feelings taught and showed us through his humble service to his God – and to us?

Tonight, is a night filled with complex, conflicting, and frequently distressing feelings. That is precisely why it is an important night. A challenging night that we should not shy away from. It is a night that is reflective of the complex, conflicting, and frequently distressing life events that we must face. Life events that all too frequently, tear us away from Jesus’ love, rudely pushing us off the path of love and propelling us down paths of anger and hatred. Feelings and situations that blind us to the gift of love given to us by God and demonstrated to us in the incarnation, in the life and death of his Son Jesus Christ. 

Which path will we take as we leave this complex evening and its message of love?

 

 

 

 THE FAILURE OF OLD UNDERSTANDINGS AND THE RETURN TO FOUNDATIONAL TEXTS

Authored by the Rev. Clelia Pinza-Garrity, LCSW

“…I am convinced that if the community of faith loses touch with its Scriptures, it loses its identity…when the Word is no longer proclaimed, taught, and heard individual Christians and churches have no basis for making ethical decisions and thus stand mute in the face of pressing problems in the church and society.” (M. Thomas Norwood, Jr. A Study of the Call of God in Genesis. Pittsburgh: The Kerygma Program, 1988) 

In these past six years I have devoted hour upon hour in search of and then reading, or listening to, literature and scholarship that pertains to the phenomenon of forced migration in the 20th and 21st century. Specifically, what are the etiologies of the ever-growing mass of people moving from one place to another and how has our global community responded to those who seek asylum from terrorism and other forms of oppression? 

Pondering the phenomenon of forced migration has taken me down several additional paths of investigation. What is true humanitarian aid? How can the immigration system in the US be better organized? Who should we partner with to ensure a global system of asylum that is realistic as the numbers of forced refugees skyrockets? 

But the one question that has become a driving force in my studies, conversations, prayers, and reflections is: What is the theology and praxis of forced migration in the Episcopal Church? Both at the local and the national levels. 

Specifically, are we as Christians living into God’s divine instructions to Moses on Mt. Sinai when he said, "Speak to all the congregation of the people of Israel and say to them: You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy… When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The stranger who lives as a foreigner with you shall be to you as the native-born among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you lived as foreigners in the land of Egypt. I am Yahweh your God.” (Leviticus 19:1-3; 33-34) 

“You shall be holy, for I your God am holy.” God is not content to limit holiness to himself. God instructs us that we are expected to be holy as well, a people consecrated, sanctified, and hallowed. Biblical theologian Walter Brueggemann has called this the “obligation tradition,” where “the purpose of Israel’s life is to host the holiness of Yahweh.” (Walter Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 199, 428). 

“Holiness is meant to be something contagious, something which gets inside us and changes us forever. Hosting divine holiness means more than maintaining ritual purity or devotional piety. It means embodying justice and peace as well, uncontaminated by the dehumanizing, violent and oppressive practices of the dominant culture. Such holiness requires the consecration and dedication of every aspect of life to the will and purpose of God.” (Jim Friedrich, The Religious Imagineer, February 16, 2016) 

As a holy people who diligently and continually struggle to maintain firm footing as Christ’s disciples amidst the chaos of a confusing, divisive, and complex global society, are we succeeding? Are we succeeding in keeping ourselves separate from the dehumanizing, violent, and oppressive practices of the dominant culture and maintaining our connection with Scripture as our basis for making ethical decisions? Are we as the Episcopal Church weathering the storm of uncertainty and doubt as we struggle to sort through the political in an effort to find the holy; or have we lost touch with Scripture and therefore lost our moral compass as God’s holy people? 

Where do we stand on the challenge of forced migration? Are we comfortable with and committed to a role of advocacy, compassion, and welcoming the forced migrant, loving them as Jesus loved us? Loving them as our ourselves? Loving them as our neighbor? 

As the global challenge of forced migration becomes increasingly grim and disheartening these questions become increasingly relevant to our call to be a holy people. Optimistic and humane treaties, such as the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the 1951 Refugee Convention, that emerged as a result of the First and Second World Wars and more recently the Global Compact for Safe, Orderly, and Regular Migration, have, in reality become obsolete in their vision of equal human rights for all and freedom of movement for the politically oppressed. Each day borders are closing and those who flee are violently and frequently inhumanely rejected and placed in alternative living situations such as primitive and overcrowded refugee camps that all too frequently become permanent homes. 

In 2016 the UN General Assembly Declaration endorsed a set of commitments that apply to both forced refugees and economic migrants. The Declaration includes a commitment to protect the human rights and fundamental freedoms of all persons, in transit and upon arrival and to give primary consideration at all times to the best interests of the child. The United States is a signatory to that declaration. 

In 2018 the General Convention of the Episcopal Church approved Resolution 2018-D009 which sets forth many principles that address human migration. Among them: We stress the importance of demonstrating hospitality and welcome as Christian values at the local level, preaching hospitality and positive storytelling to overcome xenophobia, and we insist that the United States of America and other powerful, wealthy nations, and all nations to the best of their ability, contribute to resettlement, establish and maintain safe and orderly humanitarian protections for refugees, internally displaced persons, and other migrants seeking long-term solutions and safety. 

Are we aware of these commitments? 

Living into our divine holiness by observing the great commandments put forth in Scripture must remain the center of our moral compass as we strive to be a holy people, advocating and participating in the repair, restoration, and healing of forced migrants and the institutions, and systems which they must traverse as they seek welcome and safety. 

Our “obligation tradition” demands that we continually ask ourselves a key question: How can we use our insights, assets, and relationships for the sake of justice-making and healing? How can we remain in touch with Scripture in order to maintain our moral and holy identity? How does our holiness invite us to embrace the most vulnerable people in our communities as beloved neighbors? How do we dedicate every aspect of our life to the will and purpose of God?

If Your Heart Turns Away...

 

Sermon – 02/12/2023

Matthew 5:21-37

As of this past Wednesday I was not scheduled to preach today and therefore had paid little attention to the lectionary readings for this week. However, after my conversation with Fr. David late that afternoon, it became evident that I needed to quickly develop a sermon and to be ready to impart some small piece of theological wisdom to you all this morning.

Of course, my first step was to have a look at the readings. I did so and said to myself, “Wow.” These are long and complicated readings. How do I sort through them quickly and discover that one phrase that says to me “You can preach on this.”

Luckily, I love the Old Testament, and I especially love Deuteronomy. That, I determined, would be my starting point.

First off, I turned to my hero Walter Brueggemann, a definitive theologian and scholar of the Old Testament who has posted many, many of his lectures on YouTube. As I suspected, I found one on today’s Deuteronomy reading. It was nothing short of excellent. Next, I took a look at Deuteronomy as a whole in my old study bible. The one that I used as I prepared for my ordination. There I found a few excellent notes from my Old Testament professor, another well informed scholar.

Well-armed with information from scholars and scripture and filled with inspiration blessedly given by the Holy Spirit, I began my sermon writing process.

The Book of Deuteronomy takes place just as the Israelites, encamped on the plains of Moab after 40 years in the desert, finally stand poised to enter the promised land. Moses as Deuteronomy’s speaker calls the people together and delivers a series of three speeches. These speeches are grouped together and presented as a long farewell address as he prepares to die. In this long and detailed address Moses reviews Israel’s history, recounts their laws, and instructs the people about the importance of loyalty to God.

Deuteronomy is an extremely complex narrative that was written from three distinctive viewpoints over the course of three time periods, each separated by hundreds of years. They reflect the ongoing development of the theology of Israelite’s story in the preexilic, exilic, and postexilic points of their history. In the book’s final chapters these three viewpoints operate simultaneously and present in detail the covenant that God made with Israel. These final chapters reflect a complex interplay developed over hundreds of years of Israelite history, Israelite Law, and the importance of Israel’s loyalty to God.

These final chapters, which include today’s reading from chapter 30, also focus on the details of a formal ratification ceremony that involved the swearing of an oath to accept the penalties for transgressing God’s covenant with Israel.

The basics of the covenant were outlined by Moses in chapter 28, just preceding today’s reading. Moses said, “The Lord will establish you as his holy people…if you keep the commandments of the Lord your God and walk in his ways…But if you do not obey the Lord your God by diligently observing all his commandments…then…curses shall come upon you and overtake you.”

Following up by referring to this covenant, in today’s reading Moses proclaims “See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God, that I am commanding you today…then you shall live and become prosperous. But, if your heart turns away and you do not hear but are led astray…I declare to you today that you shall perish…Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him.”

I don’t know about you, but I do believe that God’s plan for us could not be any more straightforward: Love the Lord, obey him, and hold fast to him.

So, the phrase that almost instantly popped out at me and said, “You can preach on this,” was “But if your heart turns away and you do not hear but are led astray…”

“If your heart turns away and you do not hear.”

Walter Brueggeman claims that these passages from Deuteronomy call us to the “ongoing project of listening;” we are called to hear God continually actively and openly. And in our continued active and open listening we are called to give mindful consideration not only to God’s covenant with Israel but also to the summary and further development of that covenant that was given to us by Jesus just prior to his death on the cross. Namely, to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, and with all our souls, and with all our minds, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

And, as we pray, through the process of active and open listening, with these two commandments in mind, we must seek to hear God. Hear what he has to say now to us, now, in this present day, in this present moment. What do these Great Commandments heard through our prayerful listening to God require of us now in this troubled and much challenged world?

Today’s psalm, 119, which refers in detail to hearing God’s Word and carrying forward his commandments is traditionally paired with the Chapter 30 Deuteronomy reading, as is today’s Gospel reading from Matthew.

The psalmist wrote:

Happy are those whose way is blameless,
   who walk in the law of the Lord.
Happy are those who keep his decrees,
   who seek him with their whole heart,
who also do no wrong,
   but walk in his ways.
You have commanded your precepts
   to be kept diligently.
O that my ways may be steadfast
   in keeping your statutes!
Then I shall not be put to shame,
   having my eyes fixed on all your commandments.

Happy are those who keep his decrees, who seek him with their whole heart. The psalmist understood the critical importance of actively and open listening as the only way to hear God’s voice. The psalmist understood what Moses had to say as he imparted his final words of wisdom to the Israelites as they stood poised to enter the promised land: “If your heart turns away and you do not hear.”

In today’s gospel reading Jesus uses the familiar teachings of Deuteronomy on murder and adultery and expands on them for his listeners. Jesus’ teachings no longer apply strictly to acts of murder and adultery. Instead, they become doorways into the examination of the thoughts and actions of everyday life that lead to such acts. The laws that the Israelites heard that day on the plains of Moab had not changed. What did change through Jesus’ teachings was the helpful addition of understanding the ways in which laws are broken by us in our daily lives and what we must do if we are to seek God’s way for us. What we must do to follow the instruction given to us through the language of the Great Commandments.

What is the process that we must engage in if we are to listen for God’s word actively and openly? If we are to hear God voice? If we to avoid the path of going astray.

I would suggest that continual and disciplined prayer is “the way to go.”

To bring us up to date on how prayer and following God’s commandments works in today’s world, I want to refer to the life Elisabeth Elliott, a beloved missionary and prolific author. The resounding theme of Elliot’s life was the boundless love of Jesus, and her greatest commission was to tell others of His saving grace. This costly call led her into the Amazonian jungle of Ecuador where her husband, Jim Elliot, was one of five missionaries speared to death in 1956 while attempting to contact members of the Auca/Waodani tribe. Elisabeth, along with her young daughter Valerie, later returned to Auca territory to live among and minister to the people who killed her husband. Familiar with suffering, Elliot wrote, “The deepest things that I have learned in my own life have come from the deepest suffering. And out of the deepest waters and the hottest fires have come the deepest things I know about God.”

Elliott also observed, "Prayer lays hold of God's plan and becomes the link between his will and its accomplishment on earth. Amazing things happen, and we are given the privilege of being the channels of the Holy Spirit's prayer."

Through the ages, no matter where or when; as taught by Moses, the psalmists, Jesus, Elisabeth Elliott and so many others like her, prayer has been and continues to be the ongoing project of listening and being in a mindset that is actively open to hearing God. Prayer is about the life of Jesus coming alive in us. Prayer is about absolute fidelity, faithfulness, and obedience to God’s word. And finally, Prayer is about the joy in keeping God’s Covenant with us.

 

We Are The Salt of the Earth...

 

WE ARE THE SALT OF THE EARTH… 

Just prior to beginning my reflection on today’s gospel reading I completed work on what has been four years of study on the phenomenon of forced migration. Four years of research accomplished through extensive reading, conversations, travel seminars, academic seminars, and deep, deep reflection. After this extensive period of listening and learning, my final project a two-day seminar on forced migration, is set to go. It will be launched February 2-3. After that, It’s up to the Holy Spirit.

As I became more knowledgeable about the complex challenges the world faces in addressing forced migration, I moved from a point of incredible naivete to a painfully clear understanding of the myriad issues related to global migration and the mass movement of people throughout the world.

Increasingly growing numbers of men, women, and children throughout Africa, the Mideast, the Ukraine and Russia, Venezuela and other South American countries, Haiti, and the countries of the northern triangle (Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador), and Mexico are forced to leave homes and loved ones in search of safety, security, and independence from oppression. It is truly a massive challenge for all global partners.

The Episcopal Church, understanding its scriptural mandate to welcome the stranger has and will continue to address this complex challenge on many fronts and in many ways. At first glance, the church’s efforts may appear to be but a drop in the bucket. However, Jesus has directed us, as God’s church, we must strive to be the salt of the earth and a light to the world no matter how great the challenge that we face.

Obviously, it is clear that in the realm of forced migration this mandate and our church’s response to it can only be one of the many voices that seek effective ways to mitigate against the need for so many people to flee their homes, and to, when indicated, offer them safe refuge. Refuge that promotes stability and an opportunity to successfully integrate into new communities, their new homes. An opportunity that offers the compassion and healing modeled for us by Jesus himself. 

Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth; you are a light to the nations.” And we know full well that if the salt has lost its taste, it is useless and that if the light goes out, we are left in the dark. Reflecting on these powerful metaphors I think back to what we now refer to as the “Covid 19 years.” During those months in 2019-2020 the salt did indeed lose its taste and the light was most certainly dimmed. Dimmed so low that many could not see through it.

Happily, although Covid is still with us we are now largely protected by the several vaccines that have been produced. Vaccines that do not protect us completely against Covid infection but do seem to mitigate its more serious effects. Vaccines that have allowed us to begin the slow process of reinvigorating our salt and turning up our light in ways that allow it to shine brightly once again. 

Now is the time to remember that our church has a long history of providing the compassion and love that shines the light of Christ on those who need healing. Over the years the Episcopal Church has provided shelter to the homeless, food to the hungry, and joy to communities throughout our nation.

The dark and frightening Covid 19 years which rendered many church’s salt quite tasteless and allowed many lights to flicker only dimly through such as quite primitive Facebook video prayer sessions are now thankfully behind us.

Now is the time to re-group. To clearly see the changing needs of our communities and to restore our saltiness and the brightness of our lights, and to join with the many other organizations that are responding to these community needs. The Episcopal Church must join with others if it is to truly provide effective forced immigration relief; to provide relief to the needs of an increasing number of men, women, and children in our community.

Our church must add its light to the many lights now beginning to shine in our communities nationwide. Together we can and we will shine ever so brightly, offering healing and hope.

Now is also the time to respond to questions such as “Who are we?” Why do we gather?” “What is our purpose?”

We need not look far for clarification. These questions are answered repeatedly in scripture. In 1 Corinthians Paul writes, “Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.” In 1 Peter we read, “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” And today we hear Jesus’ words warning to us both as individuals and as a Christian community, “You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses it taste it is useless; you are the light of the world…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

Who are we? We are the body of Christ. The chosen people. A royal priesthood. A holy nation.

Why do we gather, what is our purpose? As God’s chosen people, his holy nation we are meant to declare the praises of him who called us out of darkness into his wonderful light. Our purpose is to be the salt of the earth and a light to the nations.

The church's identity and its purpose will remain the same always, no matter what happens. And, for sure, much is happening in this face-paced and ever changing world. Our context might change, but our identity and our purpose will remain the same – always.

Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Faith is taking the first step even when you can’t see the whole staircase.”

We will never see the whole staircase, but we must move forward. We must have faith that the incarnation shows us that God truly loves us enough to be with us always and through the power of the Holy Spirit to guide us on our way. We must remember that “…God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John. 3:16). 

The Episcopal Church has no immediate solution to the global challenge of forced immigration, but increasingly it is developing collaborative programs that will augment its “salt” and its “light.” It is taking many definitive steps in the process of innovative and important program development without the luxury of seeing the whole staircase.

 We must return to new and refreshed ways to engage with those in our community that share of mission of providing God’s light to those in need, those who are seeking a light.

Our salt must once again become salty, and our light must once again bright. We must renew our mission and “let our light shine before others, so that they may see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our Conversations With God

 

Sermon – 01/29/2023

Matthew 5:1-12

Soren Kierkegaard, the Danish theologian, philosopher and poet, insisted that we do not find God through abstract definitions, or through group affirmation. Rather, Kierkegaard believed that it is only through the personal encounter of prayer that we find and hear God. Kierkegaard believed that “Prayer does not change God, but it changes him who prays.”

Former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, although using different language and different concepts, also believes that it is only deeply centered prayer that clears the way for the Holy Spirit to descend upon us and move us in the direction of understanding and living into God’s will for us. For Williams prayer is about what we let God do in us.

Origen, a theologian who died around the year 254, believed that if we are to engage in true prayer, we must rid ourselves of anxiety and preoccupation with worldly matters and fully center our hearts and minds on God. It is only then that our vision is clarified; only then that the voice of the divine begins to slowly transform us; only then that we move into a condition where the whole of our life says, Our Father.

Today’s opening Collect also addresses the importance of prayer, both individual and corporate. The collect implies that it is only through prayer that we will find the peace that passes all understanding; the peace that we are called to bring to all; to the world. “Almighty and everlasting God, you govern all things both in heaven and on earth: Mercifully hear the supplications of your people, and in our time grant us your peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. AMEN”

Theological reflections on prayer abound. A Google search for prayer quotes yields literally hundreds of resources – each one, of course, different in many ways; but all in agreement on one essential point. Prayer, done quietly and in earnest, changes our relationship with God, and in so doing brings changes in our relationship with the world.

Put quite simply by Elisabeth Elliot, missionary and author, “Prayer lays hold of God's plan and becomes the link between his will and its accomplishment on earth. Amazing things happen, and we are given the privilege of being the channels of the Holy Spirit's prayer.”

Last week at our Annual Meeting we gathered to hear reports from our vestry’s Treasurer and Junior Warden. Reports that were compassionately delivered but quite hard to hear. The reports call the St. Simon’s community, both corporately and individually, to be in deep prayer with God. Prayer that will allow us truly to hear God’s voice. Prayer that will allow us to hear God’s will for us, his beloved children, his will for this holy ground, St. Simon’s Church. Prayer that will guide us and allow us to accomplish his will with courage and grace.

I am sure that you will all agree that this is a critically important time. A time in which it will be so easy to get lost in anxieties and fears; lost in anger and blaming; lost in all sorts of emotions that confuse us and lead us away from a state in which our prayer allows us to hear God's plan; allows us to become the link between his will and its accomplishment on earth.

It will be a time in which we resist change. A time in which we will say to God, “This is our home. We want all to be made well for our building and our land. We don’t want the things that have meant so much to us to disappear.” A time in which we will not easily accept the fact that whether we stay put or move to a new place of worship, St. Simon’s reality and the reality of the world itself has changed dramatically in just a few short, but tragically difficult, years.

It also will be a time when we dig into a period of focused and rigorous self-reflection. A time when we ask ourselves the hard questions, “Who are we? Why do we gather each week? What is our purpose? Upon whom do we intend to shine the light of Christ? When God looks at us what does he see? Who do we want to be in our role as disciples of Christ?”

Perhaps most importantly it will be a time of mourning. A time of deep sadness for people who are no longer among us, and of ways of life lost. A time to consider our own mortality.

It is this discernment of what the future holds that is, perhaps, the most important task of all. If we are unable to mourn, to let go, we will never move forward, whether it be here or somewhere else.

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus teaches the crowd about the blessings that abound for all who believe in the kingdom of heaven. He proclaims in the second verse “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Jesus teaches us that we are blessed in our grief, our sadness, our anxiety, our confusion. We are blessed because as God’s beloved children our Father hears us when we cry out to him, and if we pay attention through focused prayer and deep reflection, we will hear his voice as it responds to our cry. We will hear a voice that through the power of the Holy Spirit will guide us in shining the light of Christ into our world in new and exciting ways.

In his book “Canoeing the Mountains: Christian Leadership in Unchartered Territory”, Tod Bolsinger uses as a paradigm the demanding challenge that Lewis and Clark faced when, in their journey to find a waterway to the Pacific Ocean, they found themselves facing the Rocky Mountains. Reporting on how the two explorers faced this challenge, Bolsinger suggests that if the church is going to scale the mountains of ministry in today’s world we need to leave behind our canoes and find new navigational tools. He speaks to the concept of reorientation and writes, “When our old maps fail us, something within us dies. Replacing our paradigms is both painful and absolutely crucial…But you must let go, learn as you go and keep going no matter what.”

This brings us back to prayer; to Kierkegaard, Rowan Williams, Origen, and so many others who in their own way each advise us that if we rid ourselves of anxiety and preoccupation with worldly matters, if we center our hearts and minds on God, the voice of the divine will begin to slowly transform us and move us into a condition where the whole of our life says, Our Father. The whole of our life will center on the blessing of God’s presence in our lives. The whole of our life will be centered in prayer. Prayer that allows us to see what God is doing in us; that allows us to become channels of the Holy Spirit; that allows us to become the link between God’s will and its accomplishment on earth.

The St. Simon’s community of worship is founded on both corporate and individual prayer. Prayer is, has been, and always will be the foundation and the guidepost of the St. Simon’s community. St. Simon’s is God’s House of Prayer, and it is filled with God’s beloved children who daily pray, Our Father, as they seek the gift of God’s blessing.

It is my prayer that in this time of discernment and difficult decisions, we, both corporately and individually, work intentionally and diligently on our prayer life, casting aside mixed, painful, and confusing emotions and opening our hearts and minds to God’s word for us as we discern our future as a light in the Okaloosa County community. A prayer effort that is so directed will both strengthen us as disciples of Christ and at the same time strengthen the St. Simon’s community as we let go, learning as we go and keep us going no matter what.

 

 

 

 

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?