What Freedom Really Means: June 29

Year C, Pentecost 3                                   Galatians 5:1, 13-25                                                                    

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” We all recognize these words.  It comes from the prologue of our Declaration of Independence which we celebrate on July 4^th---which we will formally recognize next Sunday.  Normally when we think of July 4^th, we think of freedom.  That is what we are celebrating, right? Freedom? Interestingly, the word freedom never appears in the Declaration of Independence.  But there is liberty, which is just like freedom.  Its right there—listed as one of our unalienable rights.  
   

We hear the word “freedom” a lot when we talk about our nation.  But it’s astonishing how differently we all interpret that word.  The apostle Paul used that word frequently in his writings.  But he used it in much different ways than most of use it now.  Paul wrote, “For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.” 

The dictionary defines freedom as: “the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.”  That was definitely not what Paul was describing. Paul didn’t believe that our freedom meant we could live a life without restraint.  He believed that we are free, but only if we find freedom in Christ.  Living in the Spirit of Christ gives us freedom, but it also requires that we become servants to God and even servants to one another.  In being free, we are bound to serve God.  If you are a little confused right now, that is ok, Paul can often be a little confusing.

One of the fascinating things about the New Testament and Jesus’ message was that everything we once considered true was turned upside down. It wasn’t that things we considered true were suddenly untrue, it was just different. For instance, Jesus said that the first should be last and the last should be first. Jesus was a king, but his crown was made of thorns and his throne was the cross. Death was not a defeat for Jesus, because he was victorious over death.  It was a paradigm shift. Jesus taught, a completely different way of thinking and being. One of those things he taught was the importance of being a servant, no matter how important you may be. He said that the way we treat the least of these is the way we treat God.

For the Jewish people, being slaves was something that was very much a part of their story.  God had led them out of bondage in Egypt to the Promised Land.  That was and is a big part of their narrative. And the Gentiles would have known and understood slavery as well.  That practice was alive and well at the time. Therefore when Paul spoke about slavery--that was not a foreign concept to the people he was talking to. I discussed this a bit last week, how slavery in the ancient world was different than it was in our nation.

Yet, Paul was talking about a different kind of slavery entirely.  It is not forced submission.  One person or group does not forcefully take control of another. For Paul it means that we willingly submit to God, and to one another.  It was and is a completely different way of thinking.  

In talking about freedom, Paul reminded these new Christians of Galatia that freedom was not supposed to be license for self indulgence.  Freedom in Christ doesn’t mean that you can just do whatever you want.  It means that you are free from sin, free from laws that tell you how to be holy.  However there was one law that Paul and Jesus chose to emphasize: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." In accepting this freedom in Christ, we also accept responsibility for one another.  It is a communal freedom rather than an individual freedom. Individual freedom is what we normally emphasize when we talk about it in the context of our nation.

I believe that our nation would be living more authentically as a free nation if we were free for one another, rather than in spite of one another---if we felt some obligation to serve the common good rather than serve our own self interests.  You might say, well that is not what American freedom is supposed to be. That’s Christian freedom which is a totally different thing. I would have agreed with you before I wrote this sermon.  While preparing for this sermon, I read the Declaration of Independence, all of it, not just that first part that is always quoted. The last line reads: “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”

“We mutually pledge to each other…” Huh, sounds a bit like Paul, doesn’t it? Now, I am no scholar of the Declaration of Independence, but it seems to me that the founders of this country, understood what would make our country truly free, and that is pledging ourselves to one another.  We declared independence from Britain, not from one another.  And even if I am wrong about that, I think we can all agree that when we see greatness in our county, it is when we serve one another. 

There is a reason why the military, the police, and the firefighters are often associated with patriotism….it’s because they serve. It’s because they risk their lives to help other people.  One of my most vivid memories from the days after 9-11 was trying to give blood at the local blood bank. The line was around the block.  People wanted to give something, do something.  At the heart of this nation is not just patriotism, but the kind of freedom that Paul described.

            Paul wrote, “For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.” Right now in our nation, we are biting and devouring one another.  And you know what, Paul was right. It feels as though we are consumed by one another---despite our desperate attempts to distinguish ourselves and separate ourselves, we are consumed.  We are not free.  We think that the might of our nation depends on our ability to protect ourselves and separate ourselves, but our might is determined by our willingness to serve one another, or in the words of the great document we celebrate this week, to “mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.” 

It is indeed a sacred honor to serve God’s children.  But let us never forget that God’s children are all the children of the world.  Love your neighbor as yourself was never meant to be literal. Love every person as yourself.  That was what Jesus meant.  Let us be free for one another, not in spite of one another.

           

Bending the Arc toward Justice: June 22

Galatians 3:23-29 & Luke 8:26-39          Year C, Pentecost 2                                                                

            This passage from Galatians is the reason that people like me love Paul.  “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”  It’s a beautiful idea—that baptism is the great equalizer.  It unites us and makes us one.  There is no doubt in my mind that Paul really believed this. 

That is what makes some of Paul’s other comments a bit harder to handle.  In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, he tells slaves to be obedient to their masters.  If he truly believed that all were equal when clothed in Christ, why would there be a master and slave?  Why not support the elimination of slavery as a whole?  In Paul’s 1^st letter to the Corinthians, he told women that they should not speak in church, and should be subordinate[1].  In 1^st Timothy, Paul told women that they should not teach men or have authority over them[2].  These are texts that churches still quote to prevent women in leadership.  If there was no longer male or female, how could one be subordinate to others?

            Let’s start with the issue of slavery.  Slavery in biblical times was different than it was in our country.  It was not based on race.  It was not something you were born into. It was a broad term.  Sometimes that word referred to those who were taken as captives during a war.  Sometimes it referred to a paid servant.  For instance, people who were slaves to those in high positions had more power than some people who were considered free. Typically when the word slave is used in the New Testament (rather than servant), the translator is indicating a lack of freedom.  That doesn’t mean that a person was owned by another person (like how it was in our country during slavery), but their time was not their own and they have limited freedom in what they could do and who they could be.

While slavery wasn’t the same in biblical times, it certainly wasn’t a good thing.  It was an unjust economic system that kept some people down while others prospered. Paul argued at times for justice and good treatment of slaves, but he didn’t argue for a change to the economic system which would eliminate slavery, at least not in the writings we have.  I think it was because he knew he couldn’t accomplish that.  It was too big for even him. 

            Changing the economic system of a place and time requires more than one person and even more than a lifetime. We see it in the Gospel reading today as well.  Jesus went to the country of the Gerasenes.  That area was most likely Gentile territory, not a place that Jesus would have been welcome.  As soon he just got out of his boat, he was confronted by a man who was possessed with so many demons that he referred to himself as legion. 

These spirits had terrorized the man so much that he was forced to live among the tombs.  This wasn’t a nice well maintained cemetery that we are accustomed to seeing.  It was the wilderness, away from people.  When he did come near people, they chained him up so he could be restrained.  But whatever possessed him was stronger than the chains and shackles. He was able to break free from them.  That was how strong the spirits were. Yet even the evil spirits bowed before Jesus and Jesus was able to free him with just a few words.  He sent the evil spirits into a herd of pigs who then ran off a cliff and drowned.  As a result, this man went from being naked, violent and living in the wild, to sitting at the feet of Jesus like the other disciples.

            You would think the people of the town would have been relieved to have this possessed man healed. After all, he was tormenting them as well.  Instead, seeing this dramatic transformation scared them.  It’s unclear why they were scared, but I think it’s partly because this exorcism also affected the economy of the region. Who spread the news of the healing? It was the swineherds, the people who were responsible for the pigs that had been drowned. In drowning those pigs, Jesus had ruined their livelihood. 

Their frustration is understandable, but you would think it would have been tempered by the knowledge that a man had been healed. He had been given his life back.  He was free now. Yet it would seem that didn’t matter at all. All that mattered was the money they lost.  Instead of learning more about Jesus, a man who had the power to heal and provide true freedom and transformation, they forced him to leave the town. After all, who knows what else he could have destroyed? 

Jesus left them.  He left them to their fear and their obsession with what they had over who they could be.  If Jesus couldn’t make them see the importance of a human soul over a herd of pigs, how was Paul supposed to convince communities that the economic system that enslaved people might be unhealthy and sinful? Paul knew his limitations.  In the end, he was human like we all are.  Do I wish he would have spoken even more boldly and clearly supported women’s leadership? Yes. Do I wish he could have ended slavery then and there? Of course.  I don’t think he could. Sometimes sin is so entrenched, it takes more than one person to defeat it.

In our Gospel reading last week, Jesus told his disciples, "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth…”  I think even Jesus knew that there were some things people were not ready to understand, some things that would take thousands of years for us to understand.  That doesn’t mean that he was ok with the injustices that he witnessed, he just knew there were certain truths they could not handle.  So Jesus left them and us with the Holy Spirit that would continue to inspire people and help us discern God’s wisdom, God’s will for our world.

The man that Jesus healed wanted to follow Jesus. There is a part of me that hates that Jesus would not let him.  After all he had been through, why couldn’t he hang out with Jesus for a little while longer? But Jesus knew that his presence in the town would force that community to see what Jesus was capable of. Maybe that one transformed individual could accomplish more in time that Jesus could in that one day. Jesus’ time was limited.

There are times when I read this text from the Galatians about us all being equal in Christ and wonder, why has this been so hard to understand? How did slavery happen in this country when Christians had access to this text?  How did the abolition of slavery then allow for discrimination and just more forms of enslavement when we had this text? Why did it take almost 2000 years for Christians to allow women to be ordained when we have had this text? 2000 years…that’s quite a learning curve.  Why are so many Christians still unwilling to see the beauty in our LGBTQ+ community? Why are people in the trans community being murdered just for being who they need to be? It’s maddening.  Why don’t we know better when we have this text?

Martin Luther King famously said that “the arc of moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” That bend toward justice feels quite flat sometimes.  It’s a slow bend. Yet I do believe that Christians have corrected many of the mistakes of the past. We have opened our hearts and changed course in ways we would never have expected even 100 years ago.  The church and our world has changed because Christians have pushed it to change.  Christians have reminded people of what Paul said in Galatians, what Jesus said on the sermon of the mount.

We are here to continue the ministry that Jesus and Paul began.  Even in the last 20 years, I have seen the Episcopal Church stop arguing about so much that they argued about 20 years ago. We have found new stuff to argue about, but I think that is the way progress happens. It’s a slog. 

I like to think that the man who Jesus left in the country of the Gerasenes eventually got through to people, not everyone, but enough, enough to make a change, enough to bend that arc toward justice.  That’s why we can never give up.  Jesus didn’t suffer, die, rise again and leave us with the Holy Spirit so we could give up 2000 years later. Much like the man who was healed, we continue serving and living in our imperfect community sharing what God has done for us and what God’s love can do for others. Because that arc isn’t going to bend itself.  That’s up to us.

---

[1] 1 Corinthians 14:34

[2] 1 Timothy 2:11-13

Start with glory: June 15

Year C, Trinity Sunday                                                                 Psalm 8 & Romans 5:1-5                                                                                              

There is a theological concept I have always found abhorrent.  There are traces of it in the early church—but was really established by John Calvin who lived in the 16^th century and played a large part in the Protestant Reformation.  I will admit that John Calvin had a lot of great points, but the concept of total depravity was not one of them. In essence, it means that all humans are innately sinful and despite our best efforts always will be.  He went on to say that we could still be saved, but our nature was in and of itself evil.  This theological belief has had a profound effect on many branches of Christianity and you will still see the concept lurking in many Christian churches today---some associated with denominations and some that are not.  It’s usually in the fine print, but it’s there.

Normally, I am not a fan of the concept of total depravity, but this week I started wondering, if maybe Calvin was on to something.  This week has been a barrage of bad news.  We have the conflict in the Middle East that has now expanded to include Iran.  We have ICE raids in elementary schools and politicians who care more about reaching a quota of deportations than the humans that are being deported.  Then we have the United States military in one of our nation’s cities with threats of more to come.  Just yesterday two government officials were gunned down in their own homes in what is being described as “targeted attacks.” Meanwhile our leaders (and I am talking about both parties right now) point fingers at one another with no apparent desire to find a solution, just to prove who has the most power.  I am so incredibly weary of it all.  I suspect we all are.

When I get weary of reading the news and listening to our politicians, l love to dive into the apostle Paul.  He would have been a horrible politician. He would not have even made it as pastor because he was always way too honest and probably/definitely a little too stubborn. I kind of love that about him because it makes me trust him and his words.  He was in no way trying to win friends and influence people.  However, that also makes some of his words harder to digest. 

In his letter to the Romans he wrote, “We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us…”  Now if I saw that on a meme or a greeting card today, I would roll my eyes and move on.  I would think, clearly this guy has not witnessed a lot of suffering or he would know that suffering doesn’t always lead to hope.  Paul knew suffering.  He wrote some of his letters from prison cells. A few weeks ago we heard of his experiences being beaten, whipped and chained. More than that, he worshipped a God who knew suffering. 

Before Paul got to suffering and the chain reaction that would lead to hope, he started with glory. He said, “we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.” I talk about suffering a lot.  I have also preached my fair share of sermons about hope.  I don’t know that I have ever spent much time thinking or preaching about glory. 

I believe that the easiest place to recognize glory is in creation and the world around us.  We see that in our Psalm for today.  “O Lord, how exalted is your Name in all the world…When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in their courses…”  That is how the psalmist saw glory thousands of years ago. When it’s a clear night and you aren’t surrounded by light pollution or smog…or smoke from wildfires, it’s hard to look at the sky and not admire the vastness and beauty of it all. There is a reason that so many find God in nature. God’s glory surrounds us. Sometimes it’s smaller. I was sitting in my yard writing this sermon the other night and I saw the first lightning bugs of the season and there is something about lightning bugs that makes me giddy at the subtle beauty of our world.  However, that is about where my consideration of glory ends---out there, above here. 

Yet the psalm goes on to say, “What is man that you should be mindful of him? The son of man that you should seek him out? You have made him but little lower than the angels; you adorn him with glory and honor…”  In all our talk of the glory of creation and the beauty and majesty of the world we live in, we forget that we are part of this majestic and glorious creation.  We were God’s last act of creation, the pinnacle of the creation story, made in the image of God, only a little lower than the angels. 

The creator chose us to be God’s presence in this glorious but messy world.  That is why I have a problem with the idea of total depravity even in the midst of a world that feels depraved at times, I know that at our core, we are God’s creation and we are adorned with glory and honor. At the end of the creation story, the author of Genesis says, “God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.”  It is our inability to see that in ourselves and in one another that hurts us and leads us to try to destroy one another.   

I often struggle with the idea that suffering can lead to endurance, which leads to character which ends in hope.  Because I have seen suffering that breaks people instead of strengthens them.  I have also seen suffering where the breaks and the fractures bring new forms of strength, endurance, character and hope. I think it helps to know this text—to know that we can learn and grow from suffering, but also not to beat ourselves up when the suffering leaves us a little weaker.  It’s ok to have some weaknesses.

Perhaps in my desperate desire for hope, I tried to skip glory.  Paul wrote, “we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.”  Boast is an awkward word choice.  Another way to translate that phrase is to say that we rejoice in our hope of sharing the glory of God. We are not rejoicing in our own glory.  We are rejoicing in our hope of sharing God’s glory.  Because no matter how much smoke and ash cloud the night sky, God’s glory is still there.

Hope is hard work.  It’s not something that just comes to us. It’s something that we have to fight for. That fight can be exhausting.  What if we could harness God’s glory, like fireflies in the jar---so that we never forget that our world is good. We are good…just below the angels.

In many ways, I think that is what we try to do in worship—harness and share glory.  You can hear it in Parker and Cathy’s playing.  You can hear it in the voices of those who sing, not just the beautiful voices of the choir, but all around you.  These voices have been through it. They have waged battles.  They have suffered. Still they sing.  Still this community gathers and that to me is one of the greatest glories that I have witnessed, it’s the community of faith that continues to worship a God who they cannot see and often cannot understand.  Still we pray words that feel hard to say at times, but we say them because prayer shapes how and what we believe. Sometimes prayer is aspirational.  What I see in this community is people who have not given into despair.  I see glory and I hope you can too.

Pick up that mat: May 25, 2025

 Year C, Easter 6                                John 5:1-9                                                                                                   Thirty-eight years is a long time to be ill.  One of the most sacred and profound parts of my job is visiting people when they are sick. Sometimes it’s a temporary illness that they will get through.  Sometimes it is an illness which will inevitably end in death, either imminently, or years later.  Often people don’t know where this illness will lead them.  When I visited people in hospitals and their homes, I never fully appreciated what they were going through. I was sympathetic, but I didn’t actually understand.  I was always amazed at how positive some people seemed to be and I thought, surely I would be just like that if I was hospitalized.  I would certainly find the humor in it…somehow. 

When I was in the ICU for a week and then the regular hospital for 3 more weeks, I was a wreck. At one point a chaplain came by and I started crying. She said, “It’s good to cry.” I said, “Well, I hope so, because I do it daily.”  She responded, “Well, that’s not good. You might be depressed.” I wanted to say, “Do you think? Do you think almost dying and then being stuck in a bed, unable to walk might make someone depressed?” I didn’t say that, because the truth was, I just didn’t care.  What that experience taught me was that I was not nearly as strong or hearty as I thought I was.   I was only sick for a few months.  38 years…that’s a terrifying prospect.

            The first several hours I worked on this sermon, I found myself regretting choosing this text to preach on. Because this nameless man who was the recipient of Jesus’ healing and love is one of the least sympathetic characters in the Bible. Usually when Jesus healed someone, they asked for the healing and displayed some measure of faith or worthiness. Then when they were healed, they showed gratitude or joy.  Some even became evangelists telling everyone what Jesus did for them. Yet we see none of that from this man. He doesn’t even ask for the healing nor does he know who Jesus is.   In other healing stories, people scrambled to get Jesus’s attention.  They begged him.   This guy doesn’t know who he is.

            Today, we only heard half of the story. The last line was, “Now the day was a Sabbath.”  Because of that, the man who was healed got in a little trouble.  Jesus told him to “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” That is what he did, but you are not supposed to work on the Sabbath. You are not supposed to carry something…like a mat.  A few people questioned the healed man and he immediately blamed it on Jesus. He said, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Take up your mat and walk.’” 

When those questioning him asked who had healed him, he said he didn’t know his name.  How do you not find out the name of the person who just miraculously healed you? Why would you then throw that person under the bus? It gets worse. Later Jesus found the healed man in the temple and told him to sin no more. Then this healed man found those who had questioned him and told them Jesus’ name.

Some might say, well all he did was tell them Jesus’ name. He could not have known this would have gotten Jesus into trouble.  Of course he knew. He knew that people weren’t supposed to work on the Sabbath.  He knew they were questioning him so they could find the source of the healing. If you are not supposed to carry a mat on the Sabbath, you are definitely not supposed to heal on the Sabbath. He had to know this would have gotten Jesus into trouble and it did. Afterwards, it says Jesus was persecuted. 

          Why of all the sick and desperate people lying around that pool, why did Jesus choose this man?  The only explanation the text gives is that Jesus saw him and knew how long he had been there.  When Jesus asked, “Do you want to be made well?”—the man didn’t say, “Yes!” He just gave an excuse. 

The pool that he was lying next to was supposed to have healing properties.  It was believed that when the water was stirred up, it meant that an angel was present. Whoever was first to get into the water would be healed.   When Jesus asked if he wanted to be made well, he said that he could not get to the water and there was no one to help him. Yet, despite the man’s inability to express a desire to be healed… Despite the man giving no indication he believed Jesus could help him….Despite all of that, Jesus healed him anyways. He told him to stand up, take his mat and walk. 

          Here is the amazing thing, the man did it.  He did exactly as Jesus asked.  Remember, there is no indication that he knows anything about Jesus.  Why didn’t he just ignore him?  If someone told me when I was hospitalized just to get up and walk out, I would have told them to get out of my room.   We don’t know what this man’s ailment was but moving was clearly difficult.  If it has not been, he would have found a way to get in that pool before everyone else, even without help. 

          Obviously, we can’t know what was going through that man’s mind, but this is what I think. I think he saw something in Jesus’ face or heard something in his voice that gave him hope.  Or maybe, it was simply the first person who had bothered to talk to him in all those years of waiting by that pool.  In that moment, Jesus gave him the courage and strength to try something that he had been convinced he could never do.

          Did he deserve this opportunity? It doesn’t look like it to me.  Fortunately, it’s not up to me to determine who deserves healing or another chance.  It’s not up to any of us.  Jesus’ love and compassion does not depend on our worthiness to receive it. 

That is what grace is…it’s love that is in no way merited.  It’s love that comes with no strings.  It’s love that comes as a result of Jesus’s sacrificial love.  Did Jesus deserve to get in trouble for healing someone on the Sabbath? No, but he did it anyways.  Jesus knew the repercussions for his actions. He knew who did and didn’t deserve his love, but he gave it to all of us anyways.

          I was a horrible patient. I was nice to the people who came and helped me as well as the few who were allowed to visit.  My husband, he saw the worst of it all.  And he still washed my feet when they were covered in bacteria and gross hospital germs. He put my socks and shoes on when I was finally able to leave the hospital. He did that every day for months.  I couldn’t appreciate it because I could not see past my own pain.  Maybe this ungrateful man who was ill for 38 years was in the same place. Perhaps he could not see past his own pain to find the words to just say thank you.  Here is what he did, he got up and walked when Jesus told him to. He found whatever courage and strength he had left, to do something that he not have been able to do.

          Most of us are not dealing with an illness that lasts our whole lives.  Most of us are capable of getting up from these pews and walking.  Yet I would bet that there is something that each one of us longs for that we don’t think we deserve or we don’t have the courage to ask for, or try for.  We are stuck in a cycle of saying, “it’s just not worth it.” It might be something very small. It might be something big.  Whatever it is, I want you to know, it doesn’t matter whether you are worthy or strong or grateful.  What matters is that God loves you deeply and God is telling you to stand up, pick up whatever excuse you have been resting on, and walk.

Who are we to hinder God: May 18

 Year C, Easter 5                                                             Acts 11:1-18                                                                   Visions, trances, angels, the Spirit---Acts has just about everything that makes most Episcopalians a little uncomfortable. Yet if we are to believe this story is true, which I do, then these visions, angels, and the Holy Spirit are the main reason that we know the story of Jesus today.

          This reading from Acts may seem a little confusing because it’s summarizing what happened in the previous chapter.  I hope you will stay with me as I try to summarize it all. When Peter returned to Jerusalem, he was challenged by the circumcised believers for eating with gentiles.  It would be natural to assume the people challenging Peter were Pharisees.  This was something that the Pharisees questioned Jesus about. 

But these circumcised believers were followers of Christ, disciples of Jesus. In indicating that they were circumcised, the author of Acts was saying that they were most likely Jews who were now following Jesus, but still following the laws and traditions of the Jewish faith.  A lot of Jesus’ followers didn’t believe they were starting a new religion, this was just more like an evolution of the Jewish faith. And those people didn’t think you could be a real follower of Christ until you took on the traditions of the Jewish faith, which included circumcision.  These followers of Christ asked Peter: “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?”

          Some of us might think, well what’s the big deal? He had a meal with people who were not circumcised.  The problem was that in eating at the home of a gentile, Peter was almost surely breaking the purity laws of the Jewish faith.  He would also have been undermining the boundaries between observant Jews and non observant gentiles.  This was a very important distinction at the time. It would be like Eagles fans and Cowboys fans getting together for a potluck.

          Peter responded in a way that Jesus often did in these situations.  He told a story.  However, while Jesus often used parables in his story telling, Peter relied on his own life experience.  This story, was kind of wild. He fell in a trance and saw a big sheet descend from heaven and there were animals on the sheet, animals that Jews were not supposed to eat.  But then Peter heard a voice that said “kill and eat.” Peter argued with the heavenly voice, which finally replied: “What God had made clean, you must not call profane.” The detail that Peter skipped in retelling the story was that this whole vision left him very confused. He had no idea what this all meant.  But then three men showed up and the Spirit told him to go with them to visit the home of Cornelius. 

          These three men said that they were sent my Cornelius, a God fearing man who had spoken to an angel.  Saying that someone was God-fearing was a way to describe a gentile who was devout, but still a gentile.  When Peter arrived, he acknowledged that he was not supposed to be there as a Jew, but the Spirit led him and he followed. Then Cornelius told him the story of the angel visiting him while he was praying and asking that he send for Peter, a man he had never met.

          It was at this point, when all the pieces came together and Peter said, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality but in every nation, anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” This would have been mind blowing to hear at the time, because it meant that there didn’t have to be a division between the Jews and the gentiles. It also meant that God’s love was available to everyone, not just the Jews.

          That was the story he summed up in the text we heard today. That was the story he told in response to the criticism he received from those followers of Jesus who didn’t think God’s message could be brought to the gentiles.  He added that when he had shared this good news with the gentiles, the Spirit descended and they were all baptized. He concluded “If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?”

          One of the things that I love about this story is that it’s both simple and complicated at the same time.  On first glance it seems that Peter came to this revolutionary understanding quickly and easily.  But that was not what happened.  So much had to happen for his eyes to be opened. First of all, the vision came to him when he was praying. He took the time to talk and listen to God. He then followed the guidance of the Spirit.  Meanwhile, another person was also praying, listening and following the guidance of the Spirit.  It required two people who had entirely different backgrounds to find this new way of being. Two people who should never have been in the same room together.  Two people who listened to God and were willing to be open to the movement of the Spirit.

          Does this mean that Peter then gave up all the traditions and rules of the Jewish faith? Christians often assume that but it never said that he did. What changed was that Peter was able to see that those who didn’t follow the same rules and have the same background were no less worthy because of it.

          During college I took a fair amount of religion classes, not because I expected to make it a career, but because I found it fascinating, especially the classes that focused on scripture.  Armed with this scriptural knowledge it was easier to deviate from the beliefs that I was raised with.  My brothers are all older and they had a major influence on me.  My oldest brother became an evangelical Christian and I had listened and not argued for many years.  After college, I started stating my opinions more boldly and talked about how the Holy Spirit had led me to some of these beliefs.  He said, “Yeah, but couldn’t you say that about anything? Does that mean anyone can say something is correct because they have been led by the Holy Spirit?”  I don’t think I had an answer for him then, but I do now. 

          Episcopalians often talk about something called the three legged stool.  The idea is that our faith is formed in three ways: Scripture, tradition and reason. Yet I would add that our understanding of those three things depends on the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  I love traditions. I even like rules.  What I have to continually remind myself, especially as I have more and more years as an ordained priest, is that traditions and rules shouldn’t bind us. They can guide us, but not bind us. 

Does that mean that we throw out the 10 commandments, the Nicene Creed and our beloved Book of Common Prayer? Of course not. But let’s not act like the Holy Spirit has stopped moving, stopped communicating.  Let’s not act like we have it all figured out, because we don’t. We can follow the example of Jesus, but also the example of Peter.  Peter who denied Jesus and left him to die on the cross. Peter who learned from his sins and then gave up everything to spread the message of Jesus.  He prayed and opened his heart to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  He acknowledged that even though he was one of Jesus’ chosen 12, he still had much to learn.  Because of his openness, we gentiles have this message of love to share with anyone and everyone. 

It is unlikely that you will be thrown into a trance or visited by angels, but the Spirit can still speak to you.  She might come in the form of someone who is different than you and tells you something or shows you something that challenges your preconceived notions.  She might come in the form of a realization that you might want to check out a church for the first time.  She might come in the form of a gentle breeze or even a heartbreaking moment. It’s shocking how many ways the Spirit can speak to us.  The question is, how can we be open to the Spirit?  As Peter says, “Who am I to hinder God?” Who are we to hinder God and who could we be if we got out of the way and let the Spirit move?

Forgiveness is a Gift: April 27, 2025

Easter 2, Year C          John 20: 19-31

        When my husband and I got engaged, we were both in the ordination process. We often spoke of what it would be liked to be married to another priest. We decided that while there were several drawbacks, there were also some perks. For instance, we would both be able to understand the hazards of clergy apparel. We could discuss the text that we were preaching on the coming Sunday. We would both find our church humor hysterical. Yet what we were most excited about was the prospect of absolving one another. 

         Absolve is another word for forgive. However, it has liturgical connotations. After the confession, the priest stands in front of the congregation and absolves everyone on behalf of Jesus Christ. It is not the priest who is doing the forgiveness, the priest is sort of the conduit. God is the one who is doing the actual forgiving. We call it a corporate confession, because we all do it together. In the Episcopal Church, people are also allowed to seek private confession with a priest. We just do not have those cute booths they have in the Roman Catholic Church, and no one actually knows it’s available, even though it is in the prayer book. It has become one of those fun trivia facts I like to share with people. 

         Roman Catholic priests trace their beginnings to the 12 apostles. In the Episcopal Church, we do that to some extent---although we don’t put the same importance on it as they do. The Roman Catholic Church has always been more adamant about the idea of the priest being Christ’s representative on earth. (That is one of the reasons that a priest has to be a man.) This idea of the clergy’s authority to absolve comes partly from this reading from John. Jesus said to his disciples, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you…If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them…” Jesus was giving his apostles something that not only would they need but also something that all Christians would need. The best people to convey this gift of forgiveness were those who had spent the most time with him, essentially been trained by Jesus. 

         The idea of Christian leaders forgiving others eventually became doctrine in the church and was corrupted in some circles. One of the things that the Protestant Reformation sought to do was to remove the priest as a mediator between the people and God. At this time, in the 1500’s and before, a person had to seek forgiveness from a priest. They could not simply confess their sins to God. This paved the way for a corrupt practice called indulgences, where people would “donate” money to the church or the priest to have their sins forgiven, or even forgive the sins of loved ones who had already died. Given how corrosive this practice was, one can understand why the church reformers were eager to get rid of the middleman (and yes, it was always a man). 

         The Church of England (which is our mother church) was just being formed at this point (right around the time of the Protestant Reformation) and as usual they sought the middle way, the compromise between the Protestants and the Catholics. While this middle way has taken on many different forms, the idea has always been the while people can confess directly to God, there is also the provision for a priest to declare this forgiveness verbally. Sometimes it is good to hear it out loud. 

        I have always been a little uncomfortable with this part of my job. I know that a priest doesn’t need to pronounce forgiveness for forgiveness to be granted. It makes me feel a little hypocritical knowing that I am so heavy with my own sin, and yet here I stand pronouncing forgiveness for all of you. Yet where I find comfort, is in the flaws of the apostles themselves. Jesus was very aware of the many imperfections of the men who were cowering in that room. Yet despite their failures, Jesus still asked his apostles to be his representative, to forgive others on his behalf, not because they themselves were not in need of forgiveness, but because they knew that they needed it more than anyone. 

         Even though Conor and I have been priests for almost our whole married lives, we pretty much never absolve each other. A couple of times he absolved me when I did not think I needed to be absolved and that was the end of that. Yet we both know, that it does not take a priest to forgive, just a person. Of course you can always expect it from a priest, because it’s part of the job description. 

         Sometimes I think that we see this call to forgive one another as a labor of love. We think it is something we have to do to be good Christians, that we have to forgive others so we can be forgiven, a kind of quid pro quo. However, if we look at it as something that Jesus gave to his most beloved disciples, then maybe it’s not such a hardship. Instead, what if we saw forgiveness as a gift, a gift that we are empowered to use and share? Because the thing about forgiveness is that it always helps both people. Letting go of anger, resentment, bitterness, jealousy, that is a gift to yourself, even more so than the person you may be forgiving. One of my favorite quotes about forgiveness is, “When you forgive you set a prisoner free. And then you discover the prisoner was you.” 

         I am not saying it is easy. I find it especially difficult when the person does not apologize or seem sorry at all. I rationalize my not forgiving them by saying that they do not deserve it, or that they do not even want to be forgiven, so what’s the point? Well that is assuming that forgiveness only benefits the person who is being forgiven. And we know there is more to it than that. 

         Jesus knew what it was to be hurt by the people who he loved the most. I am sure it was not easy to forgive them when he found them huddled in a locked room after deserting him when he was arrested. But he forgave them, and in doing so gave them the power to forgive others. Before they could forgive others, they had to forgive themselves. 

         That is one of the greatest challenges in forgiving others. We haven’t really figured out how to forgive ourselves. Yet we have to forgive ourselves, not because we deserve it, but because God has already forgiven us. By refusing to forgive ourselves or others, we are rejecting God’s grace. If God has already forgiven, we have no right to hold on to our sins or the sins and offenses of others. 

         And I know it’s not easy to let go. I think sometimes we assume forgiveness is some switch we can just turn on and then walk away. Forgiveness, like so many things, is a process. It’s not necessarily a once and done kind of thing. It’s a decision we make over and over again. But it’s a decision worth making. The power to forgive isn’t some special power Jesus gave to his disciples 2000 year ago. It’s a gift God has given to all of us and it’s a gift that we need to share.

Mary Magdalene Knew Darkness: April 20

Year C, Easter                                      John 20:1-18                                                                                                   Mary Magdalene is probably one of the most misrepresented and misunderstood people in the bible.  Part of the problem is that the name Mary, was the most common female name in the New Testament.  It is understandable that people might confuse her with the Mary of Bethany who is Lazarus’ sister and is the same Mary who poured perfume on Jesus’ feet and wiped it up with her hair.  But it’s not the same Mary. 

A good example of common misperceptions 

Mary Magdalene is commonly described as a prostitute even though there is no evidence to indicate this is true.  It was mostly likely an accusation that was used to discredit her because people didn’t want women leaders in the early church. However, what really sealed her fate was the claim that Pope Gregory the Great made in 591 that she was the same Mary as Mary of Bethany, as well as the unnamed woman who was caught in adultery.  He based this on…absolutely nothing but his own assumptions.

The other common accusation is that she had some sort of romantic relationship with Jesus.  Because obviously a single woman could only be important to Jesus if she was romantically involved with him.  The only slightly negative thing in the actual Biblical text about Mary Magdalene is that she was someone who Jesus released demons from, which could mean any number of things.   

What we know about Mary Magdalene---because it’s in every single Gospel—is that she was at the empty tomb.  In three out of the four gospels, she is also present at the crucifixion, even when every other disciple (except one unnamed disciple who is only mentioned in John) abandoned Jesus to die alone. She witnessed him suffer on the cross, was there to mourn him, and then spread the news of his resurrection. That is the truth of Mary Magdalene. 

It would be hard to be a woman in ministry and not spend some time thinking about Mary Magdalene.  I have studied her over the years, but admit that I forgot she was the same Mary who Jesus banished demons from.  That story wasn’t convenient to the narrative I created for her, so I forgot it.  I wanted to focus on her strength and her role as a leader in the early church. Yet this week, as I considered  her place in the story of the resurrection, I realized that her demon possession made her role in the resurrection that much more profound. 

One of my favorite details of John’s Easter story is that it starts in the dark. “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb….”  My day started in the dark today because of our 5:30am service, but I had electric lights to guide me.  I knew that when I got to the church, there would be people around.  Mary Magdalene walked where there were no street lights, no flashlights.  She was going to a tomb of a man who had been killed by the Romans. It was a dangerous place to be. We know this because in the Gospel of Matthew, there were guards posted at the tomb to ensure no one stole the body.

  In the other gospels, multiple women went to the tomb and they went with a purpose. They went to anoint Jesus. But in the Gospel of John, Jesus was anointed by two of his secret disciples right before he was buried. Mary didn’t seem to be going there to anoint his body. She was going there to grieve, to grieve alone.

The Gospels include many stories of Jesus exorcising demons.  Many biblical scholars have concluded that those who were considered possessed were probably suffering from a mental or physical illness, something that could not easily be described or understood. Mary was described as having 7 demons.  We can’t know exactly what that looked like, but I am willing to bet that this woman had known darkness on many levels.  She knew what it was to be controlled by something, to be alone, to be ostracized. She knew darkness.

 We in the church love to talk about light in the darkness, about light conquering the darkness. That is how the Gospel of John begins. “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” Yet I wonder if in our desperation for light, we have lost the beauty and the wisdom that can come in the darkness.

When Mary went  to the tomb and saw that the stone was rolled away, she did the most logical thing. She went and told the disciples that Jesus’ body was gone.  She assumed someone had taken it. Because really, that was the most logical assumption.  The disciples needed to see it for themselves.  Peter and the beloved disciple (who by the way, we don’t know who it was) ran to the tomb. The text says, “(the beloved disciple) saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.” That’s a confusing statement. What did they believe? It would appear, they just believed what Mary told them as they had now confirmed it.  The tomb was empty.  They did not yet know that Jesus had risen from the dead. They returned to their homes, but Mary stayed. She stayed alone outside an empty tomb because she was the kind of person who understood darkness.  She might not have liked it, but she was willing to sit in it for awhile.

            When the other disciples ran to the safety of their homes, she stayed and wept. No one knows how long. The text makes it seem like it was brief, but I imagine her staying for hours. Then she looked in.  When she first came to the tomb, it doesn’t say she looked in. It just said that she saw the stone was rolled away and immediately went to the disciples to let them know.

I think it took her some time to garner the strength to look in that tomb. It’s not easy to look in the place where your dead friend is supposed to be. It is not easy to confront our own grief. Because she took that time and stayed in that dark place, angels appeared.  Angels appeared and asked her why she was crying.  God bless her, she answered them kindly. (More than I would have done.)  She told them she was crying because someone took away her Lord and she didn’t know where he was.  Then another man, who she assumed was a gardener, asked the same inane question.  She accused him of taking the body.  She was bold. For a woman to be alone with men at that time was a risky thing. 

She should have run as soon as random men showed up asking her stupid questions.  But she stayed.  She stayed and spoke up, as she had no doubt done before.  Because of that…Jesus called her by name.  Then she saw him for who he was, not just the man who had freed her from demons, but her Lord and savior who had now defeated death.

            We all come to the tomb in different ways.  Maybe we come like Peter did.  We run as fast as we can, look in and see the emptiness and then run home and wait for a clearer invitation.  Maybe like the beloved disciple we find the courage to investigate but also return to our homes to wait for Jesus to barge in our front door.  Or maybe we have the courage of Mary to approach in darkness, get the wrong idea and then argue with people who try to help…but eventually drop our defenses enough, cry long enough— to hear Jesus’ voice break through the darkness. 

What I hope and pray, is that you will consider what your own approach to the tomb looks like, feels like, and sounds like.  What does holiness and rebirth look like to you? Where in your life do you need resurrection? Maybe it takes you awhile.  That’s ok.  If it does, I hope you will find some peace in the darkness because God comes to us in all kinds of places.  The more comfortable we are in the darkness, the more likely we are to find Jesus while those around us curse the darkness— the more likely we are to believe that there is hope, long before we see the light.  Light and darkness live side by side and as Christians, we find ways to live with them both.

Icons aren't meant to provide an accurate representation, but they do imply that this is someone who deserves respect, which is why I prefer this over most images.