Monday, September 23, 2019

Sermon for Ann Tormey


John 10:11-18                                                                                 
            About a month ago, Tara (one of Ann’s granddaughters) called me and asked me when we could baptize her son, Noah.  She wanted her grandparents to be there for the baptism as she knew it would be important to them.  I offered a few dates and Tara picked Sept. 15th.  Even just days before, we thought that her grandparents would be there.  Unfortunately, they could not make it.  The family suggested I bring them communion so that the whole family could share communion that day. I also brought the chrism.  I had explained to Tara and Stuart the day before that we use consecrated oil for baptisms, for prayers of healing and often before death.  It’s not the exact same oil, but it’s very similar.  When we baptize someone, we mark the sign of the cross on the child/adult’s forehead and we say, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.” I always ask the parents and Godparents to put the oil on the child’s forehead as well.  It’s my favorite part of the baptism because it reminds me of the permanence of God’s promise to us. “You are marked as Christ’s own forever.”
Since Ann and Jim could not be at the baptism, I brought the oil to them and Tara held Noah for them so they too could anoint Noah. Ann was reluctant at first.  She was never one to make herself the center of anything, but her family encouraged her and she did with a huge smile.  After I found out that she died about 12 hours later, I wished that I had used that oil to anoint her, but I know she would not have wanted that. It was never about her.
            Most Christians are so accustomed to the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd and us as his sheep. We are so used to it, we forget that it’s kind of an odd way to describe God, the creator of heaven and earth, the redeemer of all humanity.  The Greek gods were powerful and often frightening.  The Romans made their most powerful leaders into gods.  Yet Jesus refused to be the kind of god that so many wished for.  He would not wield his power with violence or even displays of majesty.  He showed his power with radical and unconditional love.  In this Gospel reading, he uses the imagery of the shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep.  Jesus was a leader, but he was a servant as well.
            Ann’s dear friend Gwen told me that Ann would never be the first to go through a door.  She would always insist the other person go before her.  And that in many ways, summed her up. Her son told me that she had the life of 10 people.  She did. She had a wonderful life full of adventure, amazing places, dear friends, a loving family, and a husband she adored and who adored her.  Yet she did not take that for granted.  She never acted as though she was entitled.  She was a leader, but she was a servant leader.  Now, all over town, you will see free lunches for children in the summer because people realized that many children go hungry without school to feed them.  Yet long before the rest of us figured that out, Ann was in the kitchen with a small group making sandwiches for a local apartment complex where she knew that there were lots of children who might otherwise go hungry.  She never advertised this.  She never advertised anything she did.  She did it because she cared.  She did it because she knew the Good Shepherd and she followed him.
            I was a little disappointed that I did not offer to anoint Ann and Jim.  We don’t offer Last Rites in the Episcopal Church---at least we don’t call it that.  But we do sometimes anoint people before they die if they request that.  Yet the more I thought about it, the more I realized that was not how Ann operated. She died not because she felt closure because she was anointed, I believe that she was able to find some peace because once again, she was able to perform one last act of service, by blessing her great grandson and marking him as Christ’s own forever.  There are some in the church who will tell you that only priests can bless.  Yet I feel safe saying that while Ann didn’t anoint all of us, she blessed us all with her love, her compassion, her kindness and her selflessness.  She left her mark on us all.  We will miss her, but her Spirit will always be in this church and this community.  

Sunday, September 8, 2019

Bigger Family: Sept 8, 2019


Year C, Pentecost 13                                                                  
Luke 14:25-33                                                                       

            Like many of you, I was disturbed to see the images of Hurricane Dorian battering the Bahamas and I was of course worried for the people of Florida and the Carolinas.  But I have to confess, I wasn’t that worried. I wasn’t overly concerned---until we were in the path of the hurricane and suddenly I was glued to the news because it had the potential to affect me, my family and the people near and dear to my heart.  While that is not a noble admission, I don’t think it’s particularly shocking to hear someone admit that they are more concerned about things that directly affect them than those things that have no direct effect on them.  Humans are innately self-centered.  Our primary concern is our survival and the survival of our family.  While that is normal, it’s not particularly Christian.  To be Christian, is to care for all people, especially those in need. 
            This Gospel text today is painful.  I have had two Sundays off preaching.  The last time I preached, Jesus announced that he had come not to bring peace, but division.  Now Jesus is telling the crowd that is following him, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” If Jesus was trying to recruit more people to his mission, that was a serious misstep.  There are some things in this Gospel text I can explain that might make this reading a little more palatable.  But to be honest, it’s not supposed to be a comfortable reading.  While there are all kinds of Bible passages that bring comfort and solace, this is not meant to bring comfort. Jesus was many things—but he was not—a people pleaser.  He was a truth teller.  Some of those truths got him killed.
            I often think of this text when people reference family values in the context of the Bible.  The way we think about family values now has very little to do with what Jesus taught.  It’s true that hate is probably not the best translation.  To hate is a Semitic expression meaning to turn away from, to detach from.[1]  In using the word hate, Jesus was not suggesting that we have a disdain for our family, or even a mild dislike.  When Jesus told people they had to hate their family and even their life—he meant that family was no longer to be your priority.  Jesus was very clear on what was to be the priority of his disciples---following him.  When a disciple asked to bury his father before following Jesus, Jesus told him to let the dead bury the dead.  Jesus did not typically give people time to get their affairs in order and then follow him.  The 12 apostles left their homes and family.   Jesus left his home.  While he certainly had a loving mother who he cared for, that love was rarely described in the Gospels.  
            Earlier in the Gospel of Luke Jesus was speaking to another crowd.  Someone told him that his mother and brothers were there and they wanted to talk to him.  He replied, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”  On the one hand, I would think that would have been fairly painful for his family to hear that.  On the other hand, this is the same boy who walked away from his parents at age 12 and went to a temple.  When his parents found him 3 days later he replied, “Why were you looking for me? Of course I would be in my father’s house.”  Now this is not to say that Jesus was cruel or uncaring to his family. I am sure he was a loving son.  But for him, family was bigger than those related to him by blood.  His family was all those who heard the word of God and did it. 
At its essence, that is what Christianity is—it is the creation of a new broader family.  We are no longer merely linked to those we grow up with or those we know, we are linked to all Christians everywhere.  There are other places where Jesus implies we are linked to all people regardless or faith, but here, Jesus is talking about his followers.  That would have been a revolutionary idea at the time, because the Jewish faith was very focused on the family.  Those were your people.  You even married your cousin. Jesus was essentially saying that families no longer had borders.
            So what does that mean? Does that mean we have to love our families less?  Of course not.  But it does mean that God calls us to shift the way we think of our families.  There is no limit to our ability to love.  It’s not like we have a certain amount of love or compassion and we can’t possibly spare more.  God calls us to expand the circle of those we care for, those who we consider family. 
Having an adopted son who doesn’t look anything like me, and has a completely different lineage than I has shifted my understanding of family.  It has not led me to believe that color or culture doesn’t matter. Quite the opposite. What it has done is opened my eyes to different groups of people and different issues, because now, they are mine.   You don’t have to legally adopt a child to understand that.  Families come in all kinds of glorious shapes, sizes and colors. In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians he wrote,  “(God) destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ…. to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.” We are not merely children of God, we are adopted children of God.  We are a mishmash of race, sexual orientation, differing physical and emotional abilities, age, gender---you name it and our Christian family has it.
Typically when a storm passes us by, our initial reaction is to give a sigh of relief and then sometimes thank God that it spared us.  But the thing is, often when we miss the worst of a storm, it’s because the storm hit somewhere else.  Obviously we cannot control where a storm hits, but that doesn’t mean we are powerless.  When you find yourself thanking God for sparing you, your property or people you love, consider those who were effected and try to give something, even in a small way. With this hurricane, it might be giving to Episcopal Relief and Development or any one of the many organizations that provide assistance when disaster strikes.  Because the thing is, we are one big family.  This whole world is one family.  We take care of our family.



[1] Luke Interpretation by Fred Craddock p. 181