Feet Can be Gross: Maundy Thursday

John 13: 1-17, 31b-35                                                             April 6, 2023

            Some people are weird about feet.  I have never been one of those people.  I can’t say that I get excited about foot washing, but it also doesn’t unnerve me as it does some people. However, there have been a few times in my life when the experience of having someone wash my feet was almost painful. Last year when I was in the hospital, I never got a shower. Because of the nature of the wound, they could not risk it.  I couldn’t put on the stupid hospital socks because I could not reach my feet, which meant I was walking barefoot. I was absolutely disgusting.   One night when I was complaining about my feet in particular, my husband offered to wash my feet. I said yes, but found myself overwhelmed and embarrassed by the experience (even though it was my husband of 17 years).  I felt conflicted in that I wanted clean feet, but allowing even my husband to touch my infected and gross feet was almost more than I could bear.  I wept as he washed my feet, and had to assure him that he wasn’t hurting me, these were different kinds of tears. 

              It wasn’t until that moment, that I fully appreciated the way that Peter must have felt when Jesus bent down before him with a basin of water and a towel. I am not saying I had the same emotions, but the intensity was similar.  In those days people wore sandals and the roads were not paved.  That meant that people often had dirty feet.  It was customary to have them washed before a meal or upon entering a home.  Typically the person who did the washing was a servant. If there wasn’t a servant, it was the woman of the house.

            There were all kinds of reasons why this action of Jesus should have confused and disturbed Peter.  His feet were actually dirty, a lot more dirty than his hands and his head (which he suggested Jesus wash).  And even if they were clean, it was still inappropriate for a man, any man to be doing this. Then when you add the fact that that wasn’t just any man, this was the Son of Man, the Messiah—well then things got really weird.  So Peter wasn’t too excited about what was about to be happen. 

            His reluctance is understandable, but the intensity of Peter’s reaction indicated something more than just discomfort.  It was fear.  What was the source of the fear? There are a lot of theories, as there often are.  Some think that Peter didn’t want Jesus to see that dirty, gross part of him. Perhaps it wasn’t just the physical dirt, but also weakness. Only a few verses later Jesus revealed that Peter would deny him.  I don’t think Peter knew that would happen, but perhaps, deep down, he knew he was capable of that.  And should he, a weak man, let an all-powerful God wash his feet? Peter was afraid that Jesus would see this weakness, which of course he did.         

            He didn’t need to be close enough to wash his feet to see the weakness. He had always known.  But he loved him anyways.  His love and his display of that love gave Peter strength---gave him enough strength to allow himself to be washed. Later that strength would fail him, but it would return after the resurrection.  Most of our weaknesses and sins are temporary.  We always have opportunities to redeem ourselves.

            The other thing that Peter feared was what this meant for Jesus.  This wasn’t merely an act of humility on Jesus’ part, this was an act of humiliation.  Between this action and all the comments Jesus had made about his impending death, Peter was afraid that this Jesus who seemed divine and otherworldly, might just die in one of the most humiliating ways possible.  But despite all those fears and questions that were rolling around in his brain and making it difficult for Peter to let his guard down and receive this gift of love---despite all of that, Peter allowed Jesus to humiliate himself in front of him. He allowed Jesus to see the ugliness of his feet, the weakness of his faith.

            In the Episcopal Church, we emphasize the importance of the last supper and communion.  Every Sunday we say these words that come from our reading in 1^st Corinthians and from Matthew, Mark and Luke: "Take, eat: This is my Body, which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me." And "Drink this, all of you: This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me."  Yet on the night we focus on the story of the Last Supper, we read from the Gospel of John, which doesn’t include these words.  In John, Jesus never presents bread and wine as his body and blood.  Instead, John tells the story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples.  Jesus then tells them that he has set an example in the washing of the feet and they should do likewise.  Yet we only do it once a year and many churches never do it.

            I did some research and tried to figure out why this was and I could not find anything except from a few people who said that we really didn’t need to wash feet anymore since we wear shoes and bathe regularly.  But I think what it really comes down to is that it’s too intimate.  It requires too much humility and humiliation.  When I was in the hospital, I actually needed my feet washed, but that made it that much worse. It’s so hard to let someone see a part of you that you are not comfortable with. Yet in the end, it was probably one of the most beautiful moments I’ve had with my husband.  Of all the amazing things people did for me when I was ill, that was when I felt most loved and it actually hurt a little, to receive love when I felt weak and unlovable. 

            Jesus told his disciples that everyone would know they were his disciples by how they loved one another.  I think the part of love we can often overlook is how we receive the love of others and of God.  It can be challenging to receive love because it makes us so incredibly vulnerable and no matter how much we talk about it, we still don’t like to be vulnerable.  The beautiful thing about the practice of washing feet is that it forces us to be vulnerable, which is why I encourage you to try it.  I know that many of you won’t.  That’s ok.  It might be too far out of your comfort zone.  If you don’t, I want you to think about ways you can receive God’s love and the love of others.  Consider what might be stopping you from opening yourself to that love and acceptance. Pray about it and then find some small way you can move out of your comfort zone, because in a way, that is what our faith does.  It’s constantly pushing us beyond what we are comfortable with.  That’s what Jesus did for his disciples and that is what he continues to try to do for us. 

Glory Is All Around: Feb 19, 2023

 Year A, Last Sunday of Epiphany                                       Matthew 17:1-9                                                        

         It’s the last Sunday before Lent begins, the last Sunday for us to sing as many Alleluias as possible and sing them loudly. This Sunday ends our season of Epiphany, the time we talk about light and revelation. It’s a season that we can easily overlook, like the calm before the dark storm that is Lent.  Lent isn’t really stormy.  It’s just a season that we happen to associate with suffering and darkness.  The first day of Lent is Ash Wednesday.  What do we do on Ash Wednesday? We smear ash on people’s faces and remind them that they are going to die.  It’s truly a wonder that anyone comes to that service. 

            This Gospel reading is an interesting transition from Epiphany to Lent.  It’s a story of light and revelation, but there is a certain foreboding within the story---well really on either side of the story.  Right before Jesus ascended the mountain with three of his disciples, he explained that he would have to suffer and die.  Peter argued with Jesus when he made this revelation.  Peter could not wrap his head around the idea that the messiah—the person who was supposed to save them all—would soon be killed. 

It was after this information was relayed that Jesus brought his friends to the top of the mountain.  I have often wondered about the timing.  Was Jesus hoping to provide some clarity for his disciples about the message he had just given them, or was he just trying to have some quality time with his friends who were probably reeling from this new and disturbing information?  We really don’t know. 

            We often hear people talk about mountain top experiences.  Sometimes it is literally about the experience of climbing to the top of a mountain and witnessing an extraordinary view that takes your breath away.  Sometimes people use that phrase to describe a time of transcendence—a moment where they felt closer to God, a time of faith and assurance.  We can actually use that phrase for a lot of different things.

Mount Tabor

However, Jesus’ disciples would have had some specific associations with mountain tops. The mountain was where heaven and earth met. It was a place that people encountered the divine.  Mountains are mentioned more than 500 times in the Bible, most notably in Moses’ interactions with the voice of God.  That is where Moses received the 10 Commandments. Important things happened on mountains in the Jewish faith. All of Jesus’ disciples would have known these stories well and thus known the significance of the mountain.

            Therefore, it’s not surprising that these amazing things would happen at the top of the mountain.  First Jesus was transfigured before them—meaning his face got shiny and his clothes were extra bright. Then two prophets, who were long since dead, appeared.  After that a voice from heaven spoke to the disciples…the disciples.  And here is the crazy thing, of all those miraculous events that happened on that mountaintop, it wasn’t the glowing Jesus or two dead prophets back to life, it was something as simple as a voice.  That is what really got the disciple’s attention.  It wasn’t just any voice.  It was God’s voice. And for once, God was talking directly to the disciples. 

That is what really freaked them out. They were accustomed to things happening to Jesus, and maybe even to the people around them.  They had witnessed their share of miracles. But this was different, because God was talking to them and more importantly he was telling them to do something, to listen to Jesus.  And what had Jesus just told them? He had told them that he had to suffer and die and they too would have to take up their cross if they wanted to be his followers.   It’s not the kind of thing you want to hear from a heavenly voice. It’s the kind of thing you want to tell yourself was just a big misunderstanding and of course Jesus didn’t mean that he was really going to suffer and die.

            When the three disciples heard the voice from heaven, they fell to the earth in fear.   Because the earth was what they knew.  It was firm. Maybe, just maybe if they stayed there for a while they could forget this all happened.  Then Jesus bent over and touched them and he said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  When they looked up, they saw it was just them and Jesus, just the way it should be.  And maybe they thought this was all just a dream and they could forget it.  But no, Jesus made sure to remind them on the way down the mountain, that he would have to suffer and die. This time, no one argued with him. 

            Lent isn’t merely a time of suffering and darkness.  It’s a time when we confront certain truths, maybe truths that we don’t want to confront.  It’s a time to repent from our sins.  No one likes to talk about sin.  But repentance isn’t just a about feeling guilt and shame, it’s a reorientation. It’s an opportunity to change, for the better.  The reason we have the story of the transfiguration right before Lent is to remind us that even in the midst of suffering and repentance, there is also glory and light.  There is a God who desperately wants us to listen to him, but is also willing to get on the ground with us, put his hand on our shoulder and say, “It’s time to get up and stop living in fear.”

            On the way down Jesus told his disciples not to tell anyone about what happened until he was resurrected.  I like to think he told them this because he knew that they would need this reminder of a light that we can find even in the darkest of times.  They didn’t need to use this moment to evangelize and teach.  It was just for them, a place to return in their mind and heart when the world seemed to be ending.  When Jesus was hanging on the cross, they could close their eyes---see the light and feel his hand on their shoulder telling them not to be afraid.

            That’s what many of us need—a reminder to find courage when we are afraid, a reminder that we need not fear the terror of the night—that we can confront those things we would rather avoid and forget.  Lent is a time to face our fears, our failures, and our sins---but to do that with the knowledge that those failures and sins can never defeat us because we have a God who can both glorify the earth and also kneel down next to us when our face in on the ground, brush us off and tell us not to be afraid because glory (God’s glory) is all around us. 

A Different Kind of Picture: September 23, 2018

Year B, Pentecost 18                                                  

Mark 9:30-38                                                                                           

            One of my favorite paintings of Jesus depicts him seated with children surrounding him.  He is talking to one boy with his arm around the boy’s shoulder.  A little girl has her head on his shoulder.  I have had this print for as long as I can remember.  The picture is so ingrained in me that when I think of Jesus, I see that Jesus.  Most of us have probably seen a picture or painting of Jesus with children. There is a reason politicians are always kissing babies. It’s heartwarming.  It makes you feel good. It makes you want to trust them.  We want that image of Jesus as much as we want that image of national leaders. This image comes in part from our Gospel for today.

            Our Gospel for today is jam packed.  The children only come in at the end of the reading.  It starts with Jesus teaching his disciples, explaining that he would be killed and then rise again.  The disciples were understandably confused by this, but didn’t not ask for an explanation.  Instead, they got into an argument about who was the greatest.  Greatest at what we do not know.  Greatest disciple, greatest miracle worker, greatest fisherman.  We don't know.  What we do know is that Jesus didn’t like it.  In response to their petty argument, he told them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” 

            Now, if you have been coming to church for a while, you have probably heard this so many times, it no longer seems shocking. Yet, if you think about it, it must have sounded kind of crazy to the disciples who were hearing it for the first time.  And Jesus knew it sounded crazy.  He knew that his disciples were not catching on to everything he was teaching.  So he decided to show them what he meant.  He took a child and held the child in his arms.  He said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me…” 

            Well isn’t that sweet. Can’t you just see the disciples nodding along with big smiles?  I have always imagined the scene with loving parents not far off looking on-- proud of their son or daughter and grateful to Jesus for taking such an interest in their child.  It must have been as heartwarming then as we perceive it now.  Perhaps not.  You see... the way we treat children in our culture or social circles is not how all people perceive or treat children.  We expect our children to be doted on and loved.  We expect them to have family looking after them.  That may be our experience--and we are fortunate if it is, but it is certainly not the norm.  It is really only in modern history when children had rights, let alone the exalted place they currently hold in our culture. 

            In the time that Jesus was living in, children were the least of these.  They had no rights.  The mortality rate was high and people could not assume their child would live to be an adult.  Women had lots of children to ensure that at least some would live to carry on the family name and tradition.  Today, if there was a food scarcity, the children would be fed first. Then, they would have been fed last, if fed at all.  Not only were they not highly regarded, they were a nuisance.  They had to be taken care and could not contribute much to the family.  Therefore when Jesus told his disciples, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me…” ---That would have been shocking. 

            While this view of children seems unimaginable to most of us, it’s not actually that unthinkable.  I can’t speak for you all, but I have been very fortunate in that in my world, I have almost always seen children treated well.  I have been sheltered.  I remember there was only one time in my life when I saw children in a desperate situation.  When I was 9, my parents took me on a day trip to a border town in Mexico.  As soon as we crossed over the border, we were surrounded by children asking for money.  I gave all my money away in the first 15 minutes.  It just blew my mind that these children were just wandering the streets. The scary thing is, that is a lot more common than most of us want to admit.       There are a lot of children out there who are unloved, who are hungry, carrying contagious and deadly diseases, disfigured because they didn’t get the proper nutrition in the womb, deserted because they were born a girl, scared and desperate because their parents have been killed in war or they have been separated from their parents for reasons beyond their control.  Children are suffering all over the world. 

            There are the children who occasionally pluck the strings of our heart when we see a horrifying image on the news, but these are images that we can push back because they are not our own.  I want to paint you a new picture.  These are the children who are surrounding Jesus in this story.  They are dirty, hungry and sick.  They are neglected and unwanted. They are being shot at because of the color of their skin.  They are being bought and sold as slaves. They are dying. And Jesus wasn’t just handing them some loose change, he was holding them in his arms and telling his chosen 12 that these, these were the people who mattered to him.  And if they mattered to him, they should matter to his disciples as well.  They should matter to all of us. 

            I know that there are a lot of you who are working for children in our community and some outside our community. St. John’s has been working with Downtown Hampton Development Center that provides low cost early education for many years; we have parishioners who take children shopping for school supplies; we have people who tutor at the local schools; our St. Anne’s Guild works with the Boys Home in Covington and many of you serve on boards of various agencies committed to helping children.  Our music academy is currently reaching out to provide music lessons to children who might not be able to otherwise afford it. Those are all such important things. We can do more.  Right now violent crime by youth and to youth is up in Hampton. Some of these teenagers who are the victims, witnesses, and offenders of these crimes have never known the love that Jesus asks us to share. Right now the Mayor’s office is working with local churches at forming mentor programs for youth in junior high.  This is another opportunity to follow Jesus’ charge to his disciples, to care for the least of these…not just the cute children we see depicted in religious art, the children who really desperately need our love.

         Typically, when we think of Jesus loving the children, we think of innocence, curiosity and loyalty.  But Jesus was talking about the aspects of children that are harder to love.  While that is a challenge to all of us, it is comforting to know that he loves the parts of each of us that are hard to love.  As a wise person once said, "Jesus loves us just the way we are, but he loves us too much to let us stay that way."  Just one chapter after our reading for today, Jesus and the disciples once again interact with children. The disciples rebuked the children for seeking his blessing.  It seems they did not learn that lesson very well.  But that's ok- they were slow learners like most of us are.  Jesus took the children in his arms and blessed them again.  I bet he also blessed his disciples, because they needed love too.  It's not easy to be Jesus' disciples.  It's not easy to love the least of these.  Thankfully, we have many opportunities.  Even if we mess up and don't love as we should, we have countless opportunities to share Jesus’ blessings, and if we take these opportunities, the potential is unlimited.

Hot, hot, hot: June 4, 2017

Year A, Pentecost                                                         
Acts 2:1-21                                                                            

            Typically, I write my main sermon, and then I consider how I can take something from it and make it accessible to children.  For this Pentecost Sunday, I came up with the children’s sermon first and that informed my main sermon.  The reason I was thinking so much about my children’s sermon was because I was worrying about how people would handle singing Hot, Hot, Hot.  If you loved it, it was my idea.  If you hated it, it was still my idea.  I realize that some people might find it a little weird for church.  Pentecost is one of the three major feasts of the church year.  It’s bigger than Christmas in terms of theological significance.  Because it is such a sacred day, we should take worship seriously.  We should be solemn and stoic like good Episcopalians. But then I kept coming back to this reading from Acts.  I kept thinking about what a ridiculous and wild scene this must have been.

 The disciples were all in one place---they heard and saw the same thing.  They were somewhat prepared for this event. Jesus had told them that after he left, the Holy Spirit would come to them.   However, the huge crowd gathered outside of the disciple’s small enclave were not prepared in the same way.  They were prepared to some extent as they were there for their own holy feast, the Jewish feast of Pentecost. In the Jewish faith, Pentecost marks the end of the spring harvest.  It was when people gathered together to present their first fruits of the harvest.  It was a time to praise God and show gratitude for all God had given.  They were there for a spiritual experience, but the same one they had every year, not something they did not recognize. 

However, something got their attention.  They heard a loud noise and felt the strong wind. They heard the disciples speaking in their own language, even though there were people from many places with many different languages. Thus all the people in the crowd knew something was happening.  But they all discerned what was happening in different ways.

 Some people asked, “What does this mean?”  They were astonished and amazed. They wanted to understand.  They wanted to believe.  Others heard the same thing, but they sneered and accused the disciples of being drunk.  Different people had different experiences with the Holy Spirit. Those who were open to the newness of it all ended up being baptized that day.  3,000 people were baptized--which is remarkable.  But not everyone was.  Some left thinking that these people were idiots or charlatans.  They were faking this holy experience to get attention or power.

Peter knew what they were thinking. He took this opportunity to preach a sermon.  He started by saying that they were not drunk as it was 9am (apparently had it been 5pm, it would have been a different story---yet it was 9am). He then quoted the prophet Joel.  It’s an odd choice for a happy and spirit filled moment. Joel was a prophet who had lived about 500 years before and spent a lot of time telling the people of Israel to repent as the Day of the Lord was near and the Day of the Lord was full of destruction and judgment.  It was not a day to look forward to. For Joel, it was almost as if the presence of the Holy Spirit was a bad thing. 

Peter was taking this text and reframing it.  Peter was telling people that the Holy Spirit was not just providing salvation from something bad, but new life through the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ.  Jesus had brought something new to the earth.  Instead of taking it back with him when he ascended to heaven, he left the Holy Spirit with the people of God. It was up to the people of God to decide how they were going to respond to the Spirit and this new life, this changed life. Would they scoff because it was different and incomprehensible? Or would they open themselves to this new experience of God’s wonder?

Please do not misunderstand me.  I am not comparing Hot, Hot, Hot, with the flames of Pentecost.  I am not saying that if you did not feel the presence of the Spirit, you were clearly not open to it.  What I am saying, is that we all experience the Spirit in different ways.  We even experience this Spirit in different ways as we age and go through the phases of our lives.   Sometimes it is in moments of utter misery—a small light of hope in the darkness.  Sometimes it is a moment of silliness and joy.  Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.  When I was working on this sermon, I wrote down my spiritual experiences. It is hard to describe what I mean when I say spiritual experience. For me, it is a moment when I can feel the presence of God in a very tangible way. 

It is an interesting exercise and I commend it to you all.  In about 10 minutes, I came up with 16 experiences. Some of these moments were sad and even embarrassing.  Others were light and joyful. Most I could not really put my finger on what the emotion was, it was just a moment of fullness. It was like a small light inside me burst through.  Yet there was one theme that kept popping up. Of all those moments, only two happened when I was alone.  Some were with small groups of 2 or 3.  The majority were with crowds, crowds of people worshipping God.

We often associate the Holy Spirit with mystical and contemplative times. Some people might even think that they have not experienced the Spirit because they are not a mystical or contemplative type of person.  That is what is so amazing about the Holy Spirit--it comes to all people, at all different times, in all different places.   While this unpredictability can be lovely, it can also be frustrating as sometimes we crave that experience and we don’t know how to find it.  In looking for the mountain top experience of transcendence and nearness to God, we think that we have to literally climb a mountain.  If you can, then absolutely, go for it.   But perhaps… you can also have that mountain top experience here at sea level worshipping God with other people who are sharing that joy or that sorrow…or just the pew.  You might be thinking, well this is the 3^rd time I have been this year and I have not felt it once.  You have to give the Holy Spirit more opportunities to work in you and around you.  The Holy Spirit does not appear on command.

When we had our youth pilgrimage in Ireland, we hiked to the top of a small mountain in the middle of the sea.  The view was breathtaking. If you were to have a mountain top experience, it would have been there. We had communion at the top where monks had worshipped and lived for centuries. I knew it would be this amazing experience.   Yet there were seagulls trying to get the bread, bugs in the wine, and tourists walking in and out of our sacred moment.  Plus, I was pretty sure we were not supposed to be having communion there. It did not feel holy or Spirit filled. When we were walking down, I said to one of our leaders, “That was not really the sacred moment I expected.”  He replied, “I bet the Last Supper was kind of like that, people interrupting Jesus, a bunch of people not really paying attention.  It probably did not seem so holy at the time.” That resonated with me.   The Holy Spirit (the presence of God) rarely looks the way we expect it to look.   I am sure that the scene we heard about in Acts was absolute chaos.  Many people walked away thinking, “Those people are fools.  God could not possibly be present in such foolishness.”  Perhaps even the disciples, upon whom the spirit had descended thought, “This can’t be what Jesus was telling us about.  We need something more real, more permanent.”   When we are stuck in our own expectations, we miss the fresh expressions of the Spirit.  We miss opportunities for transformation.  I was not there on that spirit filled Pentecost 2000 years ago.  I think if I was, I would have been pretty annoyed.  I like order and predictability.  But I hope that I would have at least tried to be open to the crazy beauty that surrounded me.    I hope that you will all strive for that openness as well.  I love our liturgy and music in the Episcopal Church.  But the Holy Spirit is far too big and unwieldly to be confined by our expectations.   Thank God for that.

Homeward Bound: May 14, 2017

Year A, Easter 5                                                  
John 14:1-14                                                              

            As some of you know, my parents moved here just last week.  It is wonderful to have them here.  I could not be happier for so many reasons.   Therefore it surprised me at how hard it was for me to say goodbye to their house.  My dad was in the Navy for almost all of my youth.  I was a late addition to the family and did not move around nearly as much as my brothers, but I never had a house or a place I was really attached to.  When we moved to a tiny town in upstate New York when I was 16, I was kind of miserable.  Yet I made amazing friends there and became very attached to the life my parents created. I loved that house. Even as a priest, my husband and I returned every year a few days after Christmas.  Driving up the road, I would see the Christmas lights hanging from the balcony of the deck and every light lit. The house sat on a hill and from the road it seemed like a tree house. 


Painting of the house at Christmas by my brother, Bill Vincent

          As soon as I walked in, I felt safe. I felt like I was home even though I had spent so little time there. This Christmas, as I packed up my old photo albums and yearbooks I could not stop crying.  I kept thinking, what is wrong with me??? They are coming to live near me! This is just a house. Besides, you know what they say, home is where the heart is.  That means a home can move. Yet even knowing that, it was still heart wrenching driving away for the last time.

            The words of John 14 are familiar to me and probably familiar to many people.  Those first 6 verses are the most common verses you will hear at any funeral…perhaps second only to Psalm 23, which we heard last week.   While I have never asked anyone why they chose those verses, I assume it has a lot to do with the first line, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  It’s something that we all need to hear when we are grieving.  It’s not saying, “Don’t be sad.”  It’s saying, “Don’t let your heart be troubled.”  To be troubled is a more permanent condition.  It’s the kind of sadness that has no hope. Jesus is saying, if you believe in me, there is always hope, even in grief. 

However, the part that sees to really resonate with people is, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”  Jesus then goes on to tell his disciples who are gathered around him, desperate for words of comfort and hope-- that he is going to prepare a place for them so that “there you may be also.”  Many of us hear this and envision Jesus up in heaven in a magnificent mansion fluffing the pillows and opening the shades to let the bright effervescent light of the sun in.  What could be more comforting than knowing that when this life is over, there will be a place for us that Jesus has prepared, a place where Jesus waits to greet us?  It is an incredibly comforting image and one that I have preached at many funerals. 

            I suppose that the only thing that could be more comforting than knowing that there would be a place for us after death, would be knowing that  there is a place for us while we are alive as well.  Another way to read this text is: “In my father’s house there are many abiding places.”  If you look through many of the readings for this Sunday, you will find this theme of abiding, or living with the Lord. It would seem that Jesus was not just referring to our final home, but the place where we can abide here, in this life. Jesus was telling his disciples (and that includes us) that there is a place here on earth where we can feel the presence of God, feel as though we are safe, at home. 

            When I was at college, there was one place where I always felt safe. It will be no shock to you to know that it was the college chapel.  Yet it was surprising to me at the time.  You see, before college, I had never felt at home in a church. Church was a nice place to go.  I liked the music.  I liked the essence of church.  But it never felt like home.  It was never a place I sought.  Yet in college, the chapel was always open.  There were rooms in the basement where we could study.  One fridge was always stocked with Diet Dr. Pepper.  And no matter what time you came (whether it was 10am or 1am) someone was almost always there.  I studied there. I made friends there.  I worshipped there.  It was a safe place.  It was a place where I felt that I belonged.  The reason I felt like I belonged there was not just that there were people I knew and comfy chairs, but I felt close to God.  It was like God was right there and I could pop in anytime.

            When Jesus told the disciples about a dwelling place that was prepared for them, he wasn’t just talking about a future place where we all congregate after death. He was talking about the place where God abides.  God isn’t just waiting for us in this mysterious place called, “life after death.” God is here with us now. This was important for the disciples to know because Jesus wanted them to understand that even after he died, was resurrected and ascended into heaven, he was still there with them. There was still a place for them, on earth, a safe place where God dwelled with them.  They did not quite understand it at the time.  It was only after Jesus spent time with them after his resurrection when they were able to fully comprehend what it was to abide with God, even though Jesus was not present in bodily form.  Once they started to understand that, they were able to help other people have a sense of that abiding presence of God here on earth.

            My parents moved last week.  I helped them a little bit on their move.  Even when their stuff was still in boxes….even though it was only the 2^nd or 3^rd time I had been there…I had this overwhelming feeling that I was coming home.  It is nothing like where they used to live.  It has none of the familiar smells, sounds, or views. But they are there. That is their dwelling place, which means it is a safe place for me.  I feel the same way about St. John’s.  When I walk into the sanctuary….it does not matter what day it is.  It does not matter whether it is full, empty or mostly empty…it feels like home.  It feels like the place that I belong, not because I am the rector here, not because I know the people here, but because this is a place where I can feel God.  That is my prayer for all of you; that you can find God in this place, that this can be a home for you in your joy, in your grief, and in your doubt.  There is always a place for you here.  But more importantly, there is a place for you anywhere you go.    When you experience the love of God, you are home.  Welcome home.

             

Mixed Metaphors: January 22, 2017

Year A, Epiphany 3                                                               
Matthew 4:12-23                                                                   

            The summer after I graduated college I interned in this tiny church in a tiny town in Pennsylvania.  There was not a whole lot going on in the town, but it was a beautiful place.  Adjacent to the town was a state park with miles of trails and a small lake.  It was a difficult time for me having just finished college and being unsure of where to go next.  I struggled with insomnia.  I slept for a couple of hours and then waited for the dawn.  When I saw the first signs of light, I drove to the state park and walked for miles.  There was one morning in particular when the sun was rising and there was mist on the lake, I noticed a few fishermen in a small boat.  This was not an unusual occurrence, but it struck me at that moment.  It seemed so serene.  For the first time in my life, I saw the appeal of fishing…not enough to actually do it, but while waiting for the sun to rise and bemoaning my sad existence, I thought, that looks like a good way to spend a morning.

Little Buffalo State Park   by David Owen

            Since that summer, I have never had a desire to fish, possibly because I don’t eat fish.  However, when I think of fishing, I still have that image in my head…a couple of men drinking coffee in the early morning with their lines dangling in a calm lake.  When I imagine the disciples fishing, there they are with their poles and whatever they drank in the morning.  I see Jesus walking up to them and saying something like, “Hey do you want to fish for people?” while he made the universal fishing motion of whipping the line into the water and they would think, “We know how to fish, why not?”  I have always assumed that the request made sense to these 1^st century fishermen, while it would make absolutely no sense to most of us unless we were familiar with this story. 

            Usually I do not have problems adjusting to Jesus’ metaphors, but I had to think of it a little more concretely when planning my children’s sermon.  What’s the primary purpose of fishing?  To catch fish.  Why do you catch fish? To eat them.  That is where the metaphor kind of breaks down.  Over the years the fishing metaphor has evolved, and not in a helpful way for our context.  Consider the phrase, “hook, line and sinker.” That means you have tricked someone and manipulated them.  That’s not what happened with Jesus followers.  He was honest from the very beginning.  Or just consider the word hook.  Getting hooked on something never comes out well.  Why are we still using his metaphor??  You may be relieved to know that the disciples were not using poles.  This was their occupation. They were not just out there trying to catch a few fish.  They were trying to make a living.  They were using massive, heavy nets.  That changes the metaphor.

Net fishing is different than pole fishing.  The fishermen would drop these weighted nets into the water and then lug them onto the boat, then sort through the smelly fish.  It was a hard job.  It required long hours, often working through the night. The labor was intense and the outcome was unpredictable. You did not know if you were going to catch anything and if you did, it might not be what you needed.  This was the kind of fishing that Jesus was talking about.  Jesus was asking these men to follow him and create a community of believers.  It would be long hours, grueling labor and there was no guarantee they would be successful.  Why are we still using this metaphor??  I am not sure this is any better than the hook and the pole.

Just because it is not a convenient metaphor does not mean it’s not true. Living is hard work.  We all know that.  Some of us might be in denial, but deep down we know that living a life that is productive and worthwhile requires work.  Being a disciple of Jesus is challenging at times and sometimes being a disciple with other people who (perish the thought) might not always agree with you---is even more challenging.  That said, there is something reassuring about these words of Jesus. They were honest. He was not selling these men something.  He was straight with them from the very beginning.  As the church, we strive for that same authenticity. 

Yet…there is almost always a yet in my sermons.  Yet…let’s consider the metaphor from another perspective.  There had to be more to Jesus’ appeal than just, come with me so I can tire you out.  I keep coming back to the net.  You see, not being someone familiar with fishing nets, when I think of nets, I think of things like safety nets.  Safety nets are there when we need them. They allow us to take risks that we would not normally take.  They give us courage. They make us brave.  What if Jesus was not just the man who was asking them for their hard work and loyalty?  What if he was also saying, “I am always here to catch you when you fall.  I am with you always.  I will give you the confidence to do the hard things.” 

It makes a little more sense… doesn’t it?  No wonder they followed him.  Perhaps he did not say these words, but they could sense a power and compassion in this man and they witnessed that power and compassion almost as soon as they dropped those heavy nets.  As soon as he called his disciples, he started teaching people and healing every sickness and every disease.  If they were not convinced before, they certainly were now.

Here is the other thing about nets. They bend and stretch when we need them to. They accommodate all different people, sometimes many people at once.  That is the church.  Now you might look around and think, well this building appears pretty solid, not net like at all.  That is the church building.  I am talking about the church, the community of believers, the people of St. John’s.  At our best, we are like Jesus in that we support one another through the difficult times.  Not only that, we give one another strength to do the challenging things that are required as humans, but also as Christians who are trying to follow Jesus! We also welcome all kinds of different people.  With each new person, we change a little, we adapt.  We are better for it.    

Maybe being a Christian, following Jesus, isn’t at all like sitting in a boat with a warm beverage and a line in the water.  We all need those moments in our lives, but we don’t want our entire lives like that.  So instead, we fish with nets. Jesus is not on this earth with us, not in bodily form.  Therefore, Jesus has asked us to wield his net down here on earth.  We are the ones carrying around these heavy nets, but we are doing it together.  Not only that, we have an everlasting promise from Jesus. We might be carrying heavy loads here on earth, but his net is always stronger. When we fall, because we will fall, he will catch us and we will get back up again and fish some more.    

Disciples who are Desperate: June 26, 2016

Year C, Pentecost 6                                                               
Luke 9:51-62                                                                          

            People often struggle with this passage from the Gospel of Luke.  Jesus seems a little insensitive.  He’s not quite as insensitive as the disciples who want to command fire to come down from heaven and consume an entire city because they were inhospitable, but still insensitive.   In this story, he had three people who wanted to follow him.  The first person said that he would follow him wherever he went. Jesus did not say no, but his response was less than affirming.  He said, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”  The second person wanted to follow Jesus but wanted to bury his father first.  Jesus replied, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.”  The third agreed to follow Jesus but wanted to say goodbye to his loved ones first.  To that Jesus essentially replied, “You can’t follow me when you are constantly looking back.  When proclaiming the Kingdom of God, you have to look forward.”

            The response that troubles most people is to the man who wants to bury his father. Anyone who has experienced the death of a loved one knows how important the grieving process is.  And even if we set aside the emotional needs, what about the very practical needs?  Someone has to make the necessary arrangements for a funeral.   It makes perfect sense that it would be the son who would do that.  Why would Jesus be so unreasonable as to not let someone bury his father?

            In order to answer that question, we need to take a couple steps back to the beginning of the reading.  “When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”  It seems like a benign enough sentence; but it was anything but that.  Remember what happened in Jerusalem: that is where Jesus was crucified.  For the author of Luke, this sentence marked a turning point for Jesus. If it was a movie, the music would have changed and the screen would have darkened.  There would be a close up of Jesus’ face and things might switch to slow motion, because slow motion always adds drama. This was Jesus’ walk to his death.  It is when things got very serious.  When the first man said that he would follow Jesus wherever he was going, Jesus knew that he had no idea what he was talking about.  Even the disciples who had been following him all along did not understand where this journey would lead them. 

            For Jesus, it wasn’t just that things got more serious at this point-- there was an urgency to his actions.  He could not wait for people to say good bye.  He could not wait for people to make funeral arrangements.   His task was to follow the will of his father.  Nothing else mattered in comparison.  Jesus understood the importance of his mission, the urgency of his journey, but it must have been difficult for him to convince others of that.  Even when he started talking to his disciples about his death, they did not really understand it.  They did not understand it until he was arrested.

            About five years ago, I was able to take a month long sabbatical.  I had been studying something called the Emerging Church for several years at that point.  It is essentially a movement in modern Christianity to revitalize the church and find new ways of being the church.  What I learned was that the roots of this emerging church were in England.  The Church of England had begun working on initiatives like this decades before and had even started funding the process long before the Episcopal Church even acknowledged that there was a need.  I was able to visit places in England that had been engaged in this kind of work. They had an entire facility devoted to all kinds of church revitalization. 

I sat down with one of the leaders of the organization as he described all of the things they were doing.  At one point I said, “I don’t understand why you are so far ahead of the American Church in this conversation.” He said, “We hit rock bottom before you did. The church over here has been in decline far longer than the church in America.  You just aren’t desperate enough yet.  However, it looks like you are getting there.”  This past year at General Convention, the church dedicated millions of dollars to exploring new ways for the church to grow and thrive in this day and age (essentially engaging in the very same things the Church of England has been doing for the last 10-20 years). It would appear that we finally got desperate enough. 

            Sometimes that is what it takes for there to be change in the life of a person or an institution.  There needs to be a sense of urgency and desperation.  We have to be prepared to make our faith and even our church a priority in our lives.  You can see it in the history of St. John’s as well. It was not until the church was in ruins after the Civil War when people discovered a renewed energy for the church.  The church had been in decline since the American Revolution, but it was only after the Civil War when people got serious.  The need was obvious as the building was complete rubble.  Our building is not in ruins, but our church is facing hard times in more ways than one.  There needs to be an infusion of energy and hope for it to have chance to make it to year 500, or even 420.  We can’t assume that someone else will do it, someone with more time and more money.  It is dependent on each one of us to make following Jesus our priority. 

Unlike Jesus, we are not marching to our death, but we should still be marching somewhere, with that same determination that Jesus had.  There comes a point in our lives when we have to decide what our priorities are---what really matters in our lives.  What we will see time and time again is that how we spend our time, points to our priorities.

            We don’t need to look very hard to know that the need in our lives and in our world for disciples of Jesus is urgent and desperate.  In our baptism we have been saved, but it is up to us become disciples, to live into that call.  There is no better time than now to commit to follow Jesus. 

What once was small is now great: July 26, 2015

Year B, Pentecost 9                                                             

John 6:1-21                                                                            

            I suspect that most of us have prayed for a miracle at one point in our life.  Sometimes the prayer was answered with that miracle, sometimes we don’t see the miracle.  Of course all of us define miracles differently.  The most common way that we hear miracle described is a transgression of the laws of nature.  It is when something happens that cannot be explained with a rational explanation.  Our faith and our Bible are full of miracles.  Over the years, people have tried to come up with explanations for many of these miracles.  When Moses divided the Red Sea, it was actually the Reed Sea, which is much narrower and at a certain point of the year the Reed Sea is shallow, allowing for easy crossing.   Another theory is that it was the Red Sea but that there was a powerful wind that exposed a reef which the Israelites then crossed. 

            Jesus performed many miracles during his time on earth, things that could not be explained, things that were simply extraordinary.  For every miracle he performed, there are many people who have tried to provide rational explanations.  Consider the Gospel reading for today.  Jesus fed more than 5000 people with five loaves and two fish.  The traditional understanding is that he multiplied the loaves and the fish.  Perhaps the baskets were just bottomless baskets and the bread and the fish never ran out because no matter how much bread was given, the basket was always full.  We don’t know because John doesn’t say how so many were fed with so little, he just says that they were fed until they were satisfied.  The rational explanation is that all of these people actually had bread and fish with them.  It wasn’t like they were carrying around raw fish.  Many people would carry pickled fish when they were travelling. When they saw Jesus giving thanks for what he had, they took what they had and shared.  While this explanation does not defy the laws of nature, it still feels like a miracle to me.

            Every Gospel tells this miracle story.  It is the only miracle story that is described by all four Gospel writers.  They don’t all agree on the particulars.  This is not unusual.  We know that the Gospel writers were all writing at different times with different perspectives.  It is perfectly understandable that they would have different details in their stories.  One of the unique features of John’s version of this story is the boy who brings forward the 5 loaves and 2 fish.  He is not in the other Gospels.

We don’t know if he came up on his own, but Andrew announced that there was a boy and he had food.   You would think that the disciples had some food as we;;. They were pretty much nomads and they probably carried food with them.  Yet none of them pulled out their supply to share.  It was a boy from the crowd.

            I wonder about this boy.  Why did he come to the disciples with his meager offering?  How did he even know that food was needed?  We don’t know, but I have a theory. Perhaps this boy was in the front of the crowd sitting with his parents, watching Jesus with rapt attention.  The boy saw Jesus scanning the crowd with a look of concern on his face.  He saw him talk to his disciples, even saw the disciples trying to convince Jesus to turn the crowd away.  He saw all this and thought to himself, “I bet they are hungry and here I have 5 loaves and 2 fish.  It’s not much, but it’s something.”  He argued with his parents because they didn’t want him to give up their food, maybe the only food they had to sustain them for the day.  They tried to stop him saying that Jesus surely had his own food.  He was a great prophet and a miracle worker.  If he wanted food, he could make it appear out of thin air.  What use was their small offering to this great man? 

But the boy presented the food anyways because he had it and he wanted to contribute in some way to the ministry of this great man.  Maybe he was afraid that that Jesus and the disciples would scoff.  Barley bread was the food of the poor.  They could turn up their noses at him.  It was worth the risk.  So he brought his offering forward, shyly, hesitantly and he pulled on the sleeve of one of the men who was standing close to Jesus.   The man was about to turn the boy away, but then the boy saw something in his eyes, a spark of something he could not describe.  Then the man knelt down and he thanked him and brought him to Jesus saying, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.” Then Andrew hesitated as if he was second guessing himself.  He added, “But what are they among so many people?” Then the boy knew that this was not just for Jesus and his friends, it was for everyone.  He felt even more foolish, but then Jesus looked down at him and he accepted the bread and fish as though it was precious to him and he thanked him and told him to go sit down.  Then the boy saw Jesus held up the bread that he had given him and gave God thanks.  Baskets were passed and the baskets were full of the bread he brought forward, but there was more, so much more.  What was once little is now great.  His small offering was transformed by Jesus.

            Part of that narrative is my musings, but the end is the Gospel truth.  Jesus took a small offering and he made it great. He shared it with thousands.  How the bread multiplied is not important, but the way it was presented is critical.  We pray for miracles.  We beg for miracles. We wait for miracles.  What we don’t realize is that Jesus is waiting for us too.  Jesus has the power, but he has given us the materials needed for the miracle. He is waiting for us to present those small gifts.  Sometimes the gifts are material things.  Sometimes the gift is who we are as children of God.  Because we live in a time where we worry that we will never have enough, enough time, enough money, enough strength…we hold back on what we share with God.  We think that an hour a week is all that God wants.  But God wants all of us, even when we think that all of us is not good enough.  So I ask that you consider what it is that you have to give and you take one of the index cards at the end of the pew and you write it down.  Then when the plate is passed, you add that offering to the plate as a promise to God of what you will share.  Because no matter how small the gift that you present, God will transform it.  God will multiply it.  What once was meager, what once was small and insignificant is now great.  Each of us carries the materials for a miracle.  Don’t wait for a miracle, start it.