Wounded Jesus: April 12

   John 20:19-31                                     Year A Easter 2   

             I grew up with three older brothers.  They were a rowdy group, often getting in trouble, frequently injured.  They taught me to judge potential friends by how many scars they had.  They said, if someone doesn’t have any scars, they clearly aren’t good friend material. (I guess it was just a measure of toughness for them.)  I didn’t use that tool for judgment very often, especially since I was 9 at the time, and not many 9 years old have a lot of scars.  That said, it’s something I have always noticed.  Scars can provide snap shots of you life on your skin. 

For a long time, my most impressive scar was from a knee surgery I had in 10^th grade. I gained a few more scars over the years, but they all pale in comparison to my MRSA scar.  A few years ago, I got a serious infection in my leg.  It was resisting all antibiotics and since they were worried I might lose my leg, they decided just to open it up and pour the antibiotics in.  They did this three times over a one month period.  The problem was, when you open up the same part of a leg that many times, it doesn’t heal well.  I had an open wound for almost 6 months. They tried everything: stitches, staples, several wound vacuums and finally they cauterized it….which is burning. 

The whole time that was going on, I prayed fervently for a scar.  I didn’t care what it looked like, I just wanted that wound closed.  I have to admit, it’s one ugly scar…I mean truly ugly.  Yet even though I kind of hate it….it’s so much better than an open wound.

            When I was praying for my scar, I thought a lot about Jesus’ wounds.  I was confined to a bed for 2 months, so I had a lot of time to think of such things.  I have always loved that Jesus came back with scars, that there was evidence of his pain and his vulnerability.  But as I contemplated my wound, I wondered why Jesus didn’t come back with wounds instead of scars, like open wounds, maybe bleeding a little.  Because the wound that he experienced being nailed to the cross and pierced by a sword, would never have scarred over in just a few days.  Then again, coming back from the dead wasn’t an expected  outcome, so I suppose a wound healing a little more quickly isn’t exactly the headline of this story.  Still, it’s something I think about a lot.

The Gospel of John was originally written in Greek.  If you look at our Gospel reading, you will see it doesn’t say scar.  It says mark. The Greek is unclear, probably purposefully so.  When Jesus came back and offered his body to Thomas, he didn’t refer to his wounds as scars or marks.  He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands.  Reach out your hand and put it in my side.”  Notice, that the word scar isn’t used.  Maybe Jesus did  have open wounds. There is one famous painting that pops up a lot when reading commentaries about this text.  It’s by Caravaggio.  I can’t look at it without grimacing a little because Thomas is actually putting his finger into the open wound. I thought it was just Caravaggio being a little dramatic, but it’s certainly possible that Jesus still had an open wound and he was offering it to Thomas. 

Now some of you might be thinking, who cares if it’s a wound or a scar.  That’s not what this text is about.  It’s about Thomas doubting and needing physical evidence.  That is one perspective.   But I think Jesus’ wounds or scars matter.  He could have returned from the dead completely whole, without blemish or flaw.  He didn’t.  He returned to his disciples, the very same disciples who had denied him and abandoned him and were now hiding in a locked room.  He returned wounded. He didn’t return that way to shame them or make them feel guilty.  He returned with those wounds because they were part of the story, not just his story, but the story of what would become the Christian Church.  They were also evidence of not just his horrible death, but his humanity, his willingness to be vulnerable, even to the point of death.

Sometimes I make the mistake of reading the comments section in an article or social media. Ok, I do it a lot.  You will remember that not too long ago the panels which told the story of those enslaved by George Washington were removed from the president’s house just a few blocks from here.  This was as a result of an executive order from the president called, "Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History".  Many of the comments were against the removal.  They wanted the story of those enslaved people to be told.  But many comments were along the lines of, that’s in the past. Why are we still talking about slavery? What does that accomplish?

 I am sure those same people would wonder why we read the names of those children of God who were auctioned and sold in the one of the largest slave auctions in the history of our country.  What is that accomplishing? Are we trying to tarnish the history of our nation? No, that history was tarnished long ago.  What we are trying to do is honor the names that we know.  We don’t know their whole stories.  We just know their names, not even all their names.  We know this one portion of their story because they were sold like cattle to the highest bidder.    We know the very worst days of their life.  So that is the part of the story we tell.

Slavery isn’t just a scar on our nation. It’s an open wound.  True, we stopped most forms of slavery.  We stopped the wound from gushing blood. But we, as a nation, we did very little to aid in the healing of that wound.  Some people think in talking about slavery, we are reopening the wounds, but I think we are finally pouring in some necessary antibiotic.  We are letting the light in, the possibility of healing.  We still have a lot more to do when it comes to the healing of our nation.  We will one day have to repair the wounds that are currently being inflicted.  It’s a never ending process.
            Jesus taught us all an important lesson when he returned to his disciples wounded and open.  He wasn’t there to assign blame. He was there to provide peace and forgiveness.  He could have shared the peace and forgiveness without the wounds. However, in showing the wounds, he showed us how we get to peace and forgiveness.  First we have to acknowledge the hurt, the shame and the sin.  We have to allow ourselves the same vulnerability that Jesus showed.  Because even when wounds heal, there is still a story to tell, a story to understand. That is the only way to get to true peace.   It’s the only way we heal.

When Paul was Tactful: Sept 7

Year C, Pentecost 13                                                          Philemon 1-21                                                    

           In 1619, about 20 Africans landed on the coast of Virginia, about a mile from my previous church.  While slavery was not yet institutionalized in the colonies, these 20 individuals were enslaved, mostly in Jamestown.  The first recorded baptism of an enslaved person was William Tucker in 1624.  He was baptized by the rector of my previous church and many more baptisms of enslaved people followed. What we don’t know is how those baptisms happened.  Were they required? Did William Tucker’s parents want him to be baptized or was it the decision of the Christian who owned him?  We were still the Church of England in 1624, but the practice continued through the first 80 years of the Episcopal Church, until slavery was abolished. 

            I imagine that many of you can see the disconnect between baptizing a person into the Christian faith while still maintaining that the person can be owned.  Some might assume that the enslavers just weren’t thinking that way, as if it didn’t occur to them that baptizing enslaved people might then lead to different kinds of freedom.  Evidently someone was thinking that way because in 1667, the General Assembly in Virginia felt the need to pass an act that said being baptized doesn’t exempt an enslaved person from bondage. In other words, being baptized didn’t make you free, at least not if you were African.  The words that were used in the baptismal service was that the individual being baptized was “grafted into the body of Christ’s Church”[1] But according to lawmakers at the time, being a Christian didn’t give someone rights in this life— only the next. 

            Of course slavery wasn’t just in the United States.  It was happening during Jesus’ life as well, not quite in the same way.  At the time, slavery didn’t last a lifetime.  People were usually freed by the time they were 30.  In Paul’s letter to Philemon, we heard a little about slavery in the ancient world. Philemon is the 3^rd shortest book in the Bible…which means we have the rare opportunity to discuss an entire book of the Bible in about 10 minutes.

            The other unique thing about this letter is that it’s to a person rather than a community.  Why would a personal letter be included in our sacred text?  If you read the entire run on first sentence, you will see that it’s not just directed to Philemon and a few others, Paul included “the church in your house.”  At this time, it was common to worship in people’s homes.  There were no Christian churches, so new Christians organized around a home and family.  This letter was directed to an individual, but it was meant to be shared with the community, which meant it had wider implications than just a few people.  Paul knew that and evidently those who put together the canon of scripture saw that as well. 

Most scholars believe that Paul was a prisoner when he wrote this letter and that was possibly how he met a man named Onesimus who was an enslaved man who escaped.  During Paul’s time with Onesimus, he was converted to Christianity.  It’s not clear whether Onesimus was in prison with Paul or was simply helping  him while he was in prison.  Prisons at this time were truly horrible places and your needs (food, clothing, etc) had to be provided from someone on the outside.  Since Paul wrote about how useful Onesimus was, it’s possible that he was supporting Paul while he was imprisoned.  This letter is asking Philemon to forgive Onesimus (because he escaped) and possibly free him.

            Since Paul can often be rather offensive and unconcerned about the feelings of the person receiving the letter, I find the tone of this letter fascinating.  On the one hand, I want Paul to write Philemon and call him out as a hypocrite because he should obviously see why being a Christian and owning someone is wrong.  But Paul is uncharacteristically careful in how he handles this confrontation. 

He started how he often started letters, he told the receiver how he prayed for them and thanked God for them, in particular, “for your love for all the saints.”  When Paul referred to “saints” he was referring to all Christians.  He was reminding them of the compassion they already exhibited. He then went on to say, “though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love…”   What frustrates some modern readers, is that Paul never explicitly told Philemon to give Onesimus is freedom, nor did he condemn slavery as a whole.  Instead he asked that he should receive him “no longer as a slave but as more than a slave, a beloved brother.”

            The point might seem clear to us, but during the time when slavery was still around, slave holders used this text to defend slavery. They said, “Look, Paul wasn’t telling Philemon to free him, he was just asking that he not be punished for running away and that since he was now a Christian, he should be treated just a little better.” I think Paul was arguing for freedom. He later said, “So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me.”  Treat this man who was formerly enslaved as you would the apostle Paul…the man who was highly respected in this community.  Paul also later shared that Philemon became a Christian because of Paul, which means Paul would have been held in high esteem by Philemon and his family.

 Notice the familial language that Paul used.  He referred to Onesimus as his child. He said that Philemon should consider him a beloved brother.  You can’t enslave your child or your brother.  Paul didn’t appeal to Philemon’s humanity or sense of justice.  He appealed to his Christian faith, his compassion and understanding of what it is to be a Christian.  When we say that we are siblings in Christ, we mean that. 

Now you might thing I am avoiding the Gospel, but the truth is I really wanted to preach on Philemon. However, they are related. Here is the 30 second explanation of the Gospel.  Jesus was using hyperbole to get people’s attention.  He was not advocating for us to hate our family.  But he was saying that people should prioritize God, even over family.  That doesn’t mean we are taking love from our family, as there is not a limited supply of love. It means we are expanding who we can love.  All Christians are our family.  And if all Christians are our family, then we really need to consider more carefully how we treat one another…which is why Philemon is in the Bible…which is why the men who put together the Bible 1800 years ago thought, this one page letter needed to be remembered for a very long time. 

Now you might be thinking, what about people who aren’t Christians? Are we allowed to treat them poorly? No.  There are plenty of other places in the Bible that talks about how God loved people from all faiths.  But in Philemon, Paul is talking about how we can use our Christian faith to guide us in how we treat the people who are considered less than.  Just imagine for a second if we could just get Christians in the world to actually do that…even if Christians were just treating other Christians well.  That would be some serious progress.

Now the reason Paul’s tone in this letter matters is that it can guide us in how we make certain arguments.  It’s satisfying to label people as hypocrites and bigots.  But it never accomplishes anything.  Paul could have just told Philemon what to do, but he wanted it to sink in.  He wanted Philemon to know why he was freeing Onesimus and expanding his family.  Because then he could be an example for others as well.  The other thing that made a difference in this situation is that Paul already had a relationship with Philemon.  He even said at the end of the letter, please make up a guest room, because I am planning to visit.  Philemon knew that Paul was going to check on Onesimus.  Paul was showing him how committed he was to this situation with his words and actions. 

What makes this letter so incredible is that not only does it teach us how our faith informs how we treat others.  It also helps us talk to others when we are trying to help them see something that might be quite obvious to us.  Just like Paul wrote in his letter, we must appeal to others on the basis of love, not anger or righteous indignation. Love.

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[1] 1662 Book of Common Prayer

The Word of God was Rare: January 14, 2024

 1 Samuel 3:1-20                                     Year B, Epiphany 2                                                                 

            I am sure we all remember 2020 as an incredibly difficult year.  The country shut down in March due to the COVID epidemic.  Everything was closed including our churches.  Two months later George Floyd was killed and that killing was recorded for all to see.  Most of us were still confined to our homes and it was harder to ignore this death.  I remember doing my best to avoid the video, but when I finally saw it, it was impossible to forget. Soon after, people in Richmond Virginia started protesting and vandalizing confederate monuments.  The church I served was two hours south of Richmond and it was in our news a great deal.  I went to speak to a trusted parishioner and she said, “You know our monument is the only one in Hampton. It’s just a matter of time.”   You see, we had a 16 foot tall confederate monument in our cemetery. It was a generic soldier and dedicated to all the confederate dead. I had spent 7 years talking to people here and there about it, but never talking with the church as a whole.

Before May of 2020 few in the church saw it as a problem because it was in a cemetery.   However, the church was also in the middle of the cemetery and that statue was 20 feet away from the church’s entrance.   I realized that if it was vandalized, it would make the news and I was going to have to defend that monument or acknowledge that I found it offensive but had never bothered talking about it with the people of the church.  So finally…7 years into my time as rector, I told the vestry that we needed to have this conversation.  And God bless them, they agreed.  I would love to tell you that if they had not supported my decision, I would have moved forward with confidence and courage, but I am not sure I would have.  Often our faith pushes us to have difficult conversations.  Often we resist.  What helped me in my last church was other people who were willing to engage in conversations and encouraged me during the process.

            Often when we talk about the story of Samuel and Eli, we talk about the call---the part where God calls and Samuel answers.   But this is also a story about a willingness to state hard truths and hear them as well. It’s about difficult conversations. We love to talk about Samuel hearing the voice of God and running to Eli because he thought it was Eli who was calling him—which makes sense. If you hear a voice calling you at night and there is someone close by, it would be natural to assume that the person next door is calling you, not God.  That said, Samuel lived in the temple and had lived there for almost his entire life. One would think that if anyone was prone to identify the voice of God, it would be someone living in the temple….sleeping right next to the ark of God.  

Yet Samuel was young…no more than 12.  He probably hadn’t heard any stories about people hearing God’s voice out loud. What is fascinating is that his spiritual mentor, a priest and a judge of Israel (someone who should have been especially in tune to the voice of God) wasn’t able to perceive what was happening until Samuel woke him up a third time.   It was only then when Eli realized that it was the Lord calling Samuel and told him exactly how to respond.  I love that it took them both that long because it’s so true to life.  God often has to pester us in order for us to listen.  If it was this hard for two people living in a temple to hear God, it’s no wonder why it’s difficult for the rest of us. 

However it’s really the 2^nd part of the story that interests me the most.  While it was certainly challenging for Samuel to recognize God’s voice, the hardest part for him was relaying the message God gave him.  Once God had Samuel’s attention, he started by saying, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears it tingle.” In other words, I am about to do something shocking.  God continued by telling Samuel that he would punish the house of Eli.  God explained that he had already warned Eli that his sons were blaspheming and behaving in immoral ways, which meant that he didn’t want them in leadership positions.  Eli’s role as a leader in Israel was over.

            This put Samuel in an incredibly awkward position. He had to tell his mentor, the man who had raised him as a father, that God was going to punish him.  Fortunately Eli was a good and wise servant of God.  He must have had a hunch what God told Samuel.  Because as soon as morning came, Eli asked Samuel (actually, he demanded it) what God had told him.  Eli demanded that Samuel tell him.  While Samuel was afraid to tell Eli, he told him everything.  Can you imagine what a horrible conversation that must have been? “Eli, your sons are horrible people.  You knew that and did nothing except give them a little lecture.  Now God wants to punish you and your whole family.” Yet Eli responded with grace and faith.  He said, “It is the LORD; let him do what seems good to him.”  What an incredibly faithful and humble response.

            Our conversation about the confederate monument ended up taking about 6 months.  It was especially difficult given that we were in the middle of COVID.  Several people left the church as soon as we announced that we were starting a conversation. They didn’t want us to judge the past or those who had lived in the past.   But the vast majority of people stayed and in the end, it made the church stronger in that we proved that we could have hard conversations and come out the other side still loving one another.  In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, Paul implores people to “speak the truth in love.”  That is what Samuel did for Eli and that is what we tried to do at my last church. Not everyone received it that way, but that was the intention.

 During the announcements, you will hear from Liz Kimball about a research project that began years ago under your former rector and our social justice and anti-racism committee that focused on Christ’s Church involvement with slavery. Some of you might wonder why we are talking about slavery a hundred and fifty years after the institution officially ended.  Isn’t it best to move forward? I believe that this is part of moving forward.  When Eli sat and listened to all that Samuel had to say about his family—the sins that they had committed and Eli’s own complicity with those sins---he responded with grace and kindness.  He listened to Samuel and acknowledged all that occurred.  In doing so, he not only started the process of repentance, he empowered Samuel in his role as prophet.  It wasn’t merely and ending for Eli, it was a new beginning for Samuel and the people of Israel.

            When we repent and acknowledge the sins of the past, we are not merely admitting failure, we are creating a space to begin again.  In seminary, I took a class in the history of the Episcopal Church.  The professor explained that the Episcopal Church was one of the few denominations that never split during the Civil War.  When they had their General Convention, they simply marked the southern states absent.  Because they never acknowledged the split, it was much easier to come back together after.  At the time, the professor presented this as a smart tactic and I agreed with him. Yet I have come to realize that this hurt the church more than it helped us. 

In many ways, I don’t think the Episcopal Church ever recovered from the divisions because we never talked about what divided us. Often we think that if we don’t discuss the conflict or the hard thing, we move past it and keep everyone happy.  But I don’t believe that actually keeps people happy nor is it what we are called to as Christians.  One of the reasons why Jesus was killed is because he did talk about the difficult things.  In one of Jesus’ more confounding comments, he said that he came not to bring peace, but division.  He didn’t bring division, he exposed division.  But he did so from a place of love and compassion.

            I have faith that Christ Church is a community where we can speak and hear the truth from a place of love and compassion.  I believe that because you have already been doing that, long before I arrived.  We are a church that embraces a revolutionary spirit.  We are a church that was forged in the midst of conflict—a conflict that led to a new nation. Challenging conversations offer us an opportunity to build something great and to do that together. If you are not sure about any of this, that’s ok. My only request is that you talk to God about it.  Try the prayer that Samuel used, “Speak now, your servant is listening.” Then tell me what the voice said, because just as it was thousands of years ago, the word of God is rare…but it’s a lot less rare when we take the time to listen.

The plaque that covered the confederate battle flag

 

The compromise

My Bias--My Son: June 7, 2020

Year A, Trinity Sunday                                                                     

Genesis 1:1-2:4                                                                                   

            I have preached many sermons in which I have talked about how we are all made in the image of God.  Sometimes when speaking to individuals, or blessing someone at the altar rail, I provide the same reminder.  I love the idea that we are each made in the image of God. I also believe that if we were able to see one another in that image of God, there would be no violence, no hatred, no racism, no sexism.  There would be peace.

            This week when I was studying this text and reading various commentaries, I saw something else.  First, let me just give you a little information to impress any Bible nerds in your life. There are two creation stories in the Genesis. The one that is usually depicted in art, literature and cartoons is the 2^nd creation story, not the one we heard today.  That one has God molding man from the earth and then creating woman from the rib of the man.  This first creation story has God creating both man and woman at the same time.  “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness…”  Then later, “So God created humankind in his image.” I have always liked the 1^st story because of its emphasis on humanity being made in the image of God.  But here is what I noticed this time around, God doesn’t tell one human he/she is made in the image of God. He tells both. He tells humanity, that we are all created in the image of God.

            That is more than just inclusive.  It doesn’t just mean each one of us is made in the image of God (which would be radical enough), it means that the together we form the image of God--that we are dependent on one another to reflect that image of God.  We cannot fully represent the image of God as individuals….we have to do it together.

            You see when I first looked at this text with the news of racial injustice, the killing of people because they are black, the peaceful protests that transformed into riots… Well I knew it was obvious how I would preach this sermon.  I would remind us all how important it is to love one another and protect one another as each one of us is made in the image of God.  And I am sure that would have been a fine sermon.  But the problem with that sermon is that ignores how connected we are, how dependent we are on one another.

            We, as the human race, are made in the image of God.  But we can only fully and completely reflect that image of God as one, as people working together instead of tearing one another apart. The best analogy is that of a quilt.  My brother and sister in law adopted twin girls from China.  They asked my mom (who was a novice quilt maker at the time) to make a quilt called the 100 wishes quilt.  It is a Chinese tradition that when a baby is born, friends and family send in a piece of material with a wish or prayer for that child.  There are 100 patches all sewn together representing the love of family and friends.   Because the patches come from so many different people, they don’t match. They are not coordinated. Yet when the quilt was complete, it was beautiful, all of these different pieces coming together to represent our love for these girls we had not yet met. 

            When God created humans, I believe that was his vision, it was a wild assortment of patterns, all coming together in a creation  that would provide protection for not only one another, but the whole earth.  Yet this beautiful quilt that God created is being torn apart.   

            Now I get it, black people are not the only ones suffering right now. I understand that.  But I also know that slavery dug its nails deep into the fabric of our nation from its very beginning.  White Americans (for a really long time) refused to see God’s image in our African brothers and sisters.  The American quilt was torn before it was ever sewn together.  So my friends, we have work to do.  First let me assure you, this is about more than politics.  This is about God’s creation.  This is about how we show God’s love for who and what God created.  We cannot claim to be the image of God if we are not including others in that image, others who look differently, others whose lives are more vulnerable than ours.

            Now I am going to own up to something right now.  I am totally biased. My beautiful son is black and I am worried for him. I heard George Floyd call out for his mother and I heard my baby’s voice.  But I am not the only one who has a black son. You all do.  Joshua was baptized with many of you present.  You braved a huge storm to sit outside and support us.   You were asked, “Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ?” You said, “We will.”  I know that the spirit of St. John’s is a strong and indomitable spirit. I know how deeply you each care for the people of this church, and the Hampton community which is marvelously diverse.  I believe that with God’s help, we can sew this quilt back together.

 I am asking for your help.  What does that look like?  For us, it starts by taking politics out of this conversation. While our church isn’t very racially diverse, we are politically diverse. There are no sides here.  A group of pastors from the downtown churches are in the process of organizing a prayer walk to Emancipation Oak on June 19^th, which you may know is an important date.* I would love to see as many of us there as possible. I want us all to walk together because when we do so, we will not only see God’s Image--We will be God's Image.  

* On June 19^th of 1865, the Emancipation Proclamation was read to the enslaved Africans Americans in Texas—which was the last confederate state to have the proclamation announced.