Sunday, July 20, 2014

July 20, 2014: Genesis 28:10-19a


Year A, Pentecost 6                                          
                                                           
When I was preparing for this sermon, I spent a lot of time thinking about holy places, places where I encountered something sacred and divine.  I got a little frustrated because I could not really think of any specific place.  Then I stopped filtering my thoughts and I realized that when I thought of sacred encounters, I did not think about places. I thought about experiences and emotions.  Sometimes they were in churches or places of natural beauty; but usually I could not even remember the place.  What I remembered was times of weakness, times of desperation and fear.  These were the times when my mind shut down and the barrier fell down and God broke through.  That is where I found my holy places.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about Jacob.  On the one hand, he’s sneaky and manipulative which irritates me.  But he’s also pretty scrappy and tenacious.  Jacob was the younger son born to Rebecca and Isaac.  His brother (Esau) was born just seconds before him.  Because he was the oldest son, Esau was guaranteed a birthright and a blessing.  Having the birthright meant that he would be the head of the family when his father died.  He would own all the property and have authority over any younger siblings. Jacob wanted that birthright and convinced Esau to give it to him by tempting him with food.  Esau was hungry after a long day of work.   When he asked Jacob for food, Jacob said he could have it if he gave him his birthright.  Esau must have been terribly hungry because he agreed. 

Years later, when their now blind father was on his deathbed, Jacob presented himself to his father and claimed he was Esau.  Since Isaac could not see, he gave Jacob the blessing that Esau deserved as the first born thus giving Jacob both the birthright and the blessing.  As you can imagine, Esau was pretty angry. He vowed to kill his brother. When Jacob learned of this threat, he ran away.  

When he left his home, he had nothing and no one.  There was no one to accompany him on this journey.   We know he did not have time to pack since he was using a rock as a pillow.  I assume he was experiencing some guilt, maybe wondering whether it was worth it.  While he clearly had the brains in the family, Esau had the hunting skills and he was angry and out for revenge.  It didn’t seem as though having the birthright and blessing was doing Jacob much good since he couldn’t even stay in his homeland. 

The text tells us that he came to a certain place and stayed there for a night.  The phrase, “certain place” is an interesting choice of words.  We know where he left and we know where he was heading to, but neither the reader nor he knew where he was.  He was just in-between his home and an unknown future. He must have been very tired because despite his fear and the lack of comfort, he slept. 

I imagine it was one of those dreams that felt real and unbelievable at the same time because it combined his immediate surroundings with something that was glorious and almost unimaginable.   Our translation of the Bible says it was a ladder, but most scholars say it was more of a ramp, like a land mass in between earth and heaven.  Jacob knew that the ramp led to heaven because he saw angels ascending and descending.  If that was not convincing enough, the Lord stood beside him and said, “I am the Lord….”  God proceeded to promise Jacob the gift of land and offspring as numerous as the dust of the earth. It was a very similar blessing to that which God had given his grandfather Abraham and his father Isaac.

Then God added even more to the blessing.  He said, “Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land…”  Imagine how that must have sounded to someone who had been forced to cut all ties to his family and his homeland.   God was promising him that he would be with him at all times and that he would protect him from all peril.   That was an added blessing.  That was even more than God had promised Abraham and Isaac.           

That confuses me a little.  What had he done to deserve that?  He deceived his father and stole from his brother and now he gets an extra blessing?  Maybe he needed a little extra blessing.  He was alone and scared.  He was not the hunter that Esau was.  If Esau wanted to find him, he would.  But there was something feisty about Jacob.  God knew that he was going to fight for his blessings. He would doggedly pursue a blessing that he desperately wanted. 

Let’s face it, it’s not like it was fair that Esau got the blessing just because he came out of the womb first.    Jacob fought for that blessing and that birthright and he never gave up.  While his methods were questionable, I think God saw something promising in this him.  God knew that if he was at Jacob’s side, that persistence would no longer be so selfish.  It would be a persistence that would bring blessing not only to him, but to an entire people.  It would be a persistence that the Hebrew people would emulate for generations.      

So not only did God give him this blessing, he showed Jacob something that very few had ever experienced. He showed him a place where heaven and earth met.  What is so amazing about that  ramp to heaven was that it was a two way street.  Angels were ascending and descending.  Angels are messengers of God.  That is the literal translation of the Hebrew word: messenger.  That ramp was proof that the lines of communication were going both ways.  God was speaking and God was listening.  There was no and is no barrier between heaven and earth. 

The only barrier is the one that we create in our minds.  Maybe God chose Jacob to be a witness to that message because he was a man without roots.  He was a man in-between the home he left and a home he was searching for.  He was (as the text says) in a certain place.  And that is where God often reaches people; in that in-between place where we are still open to revelation.  It’s when we get comfortable that we stop having those vivid dreams that allow us to encounter true holiness.  If he was sleeping in a comfy bed instead of on a rock perhaps he would not have seen that vision. 

When he woke up he proclaimed, “Surely the Lord is in this place---and I did not know it!”  He took the rock that he had slept on and set it up as a pillar so he could remember that place where the Lord had appeared.  He declared the place to be a gate to heaven.  It is understandable that he wanted to remember that place and honor that place.  But I wonder if he kind of missed the point.  That place was not holy because of where it was.  That rock was not holy because he had dreamt on it.  That place was holy because of what was missing from that place, and that was the barrier between heaven and earth, between the sacred and mundane. 

I feel the Lord in St. John’s and I hope you do as well.  But I really hope that in your moments of pain, and fear and loneliness---in those certain in-between places where we feel lost and we have no idea where we are…I pray that we will find the Lord in those places as well.  Because that is where the Lord will find us. 

Monday, July 14, 2014

Video of July 13th Sermon

My battle with technology continues.  We recorded the sermon on June 22nd, but there was no audio.  So I'm afraid it would not be worth posting that.  Here is my sermon from July 13th.  If you are reading this and you have any knowledge of this kind of thing and live in Hampton, I would love some help!


July 13th Sermon

Sunday, July 13, 2014

July 13, 2014: Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23


Year A, Pentecost 5                                                               
                                     
One of the things we saw in Ireland were the fields that were used for the potato farming.  These fields were not on typical flat farmland. They went up cliffs.  Our guide, who was also a farmer, explained that before and during the potato famine, they were making the most of the land and they needed as much as possible.  So they dug the rock out of the terrain and that allowed the land to become better soil.  He said it would have required a tremendous amount of work to remove all that rock.  We heard a fair amount about farming during that trip.  I think that knowing more about farming and agriculture would be helpful in understanding the Gospels because of the imagery that Jesus used.  

The people Jesus was talking to were farmers or people who knew farmers.  In this time and this area, everyone knew where their food came from and generally how it happened.  It is likely that the people he was talking to were not well off and were unaccustomed to having more than they needed. Unlike today, they did not have food stored in their pantry or their freezer.   There were no canned or frozen goods.  If there was a bad crop or a drought, they would very likely go hungry. 

Because of that scarcity, I suspect that this parable of the sower seemed a little ridiculous to them even though the imagery was familiar.  What kind of farmer wastes ¾ of his seeds?  If you only have so many seeds, why throw some on hardened paths that might as well be concrete, rocky ground, and ground covered with thorns? I don’t know a whole lot about farming, but even I know that type of soil is not going to be conducive to a good harvest.  According to this parable, there was good soil present. Why not use that?  Instead of spreading it willy-nilly, put all of the seeds in the good soil. That would be the sensible approach. 

As much as it pains me to admit this, Jesus was rarely about the sensible approach.  Let’s face it, the virgin birth—not sensible, crucifixion—not sensible, the resurrection—not sensible.  This does not make these things any less real, they were just extraordinary.  Yet this is a parable.  Parables are supposed to make sense.  When Jesus spoke in parables, he would take a fairly simple story that people would have been able to identify with and then use that story to teach a lesson about God.  However, just because it was a simple story, did not necessarily mean it was a simple lesson. 

In fact, most of the time the lessons were counterintuitive.  If this was a sensible and realistic story, the sower would have carefully spread the seeds where he knew there was good soil.  That means all of the seeds would have had growth potential.  As a result, there would have been an even greater harvest and the seeds would not have been wasted.  And this parable is about results, right?

Perhaps not.  You might note that when Jesus explains the parable he refers to it as the parable of the sower, not the parable of the ground or the parable of the crop.  It’s about the sower; the person who is tossing seeds around with wild abandon.  Jesus explains that the seeds are the word of the kingdom or the word of God.  He never says who the sower is, but if the seeds are the word of God, it would be safe to assume that the sower is Jesus.  It could also be whoever spreads the word of God, which means it could be any one of us.

One of the things I cannot help but wonder about is the amount of seeds.  This sower could not have had an unlimited number of seeds.  At what point did he run out?  I would think that at some point the bag became light and he would have been more cautious with his seed placement.  If we told this story today, it would be all about how careful we are with what we have.  We might talk about the importance of good stewardship of resources.  In other words, how are we using our limited resources as effectively as possible? Instead of talking about the countless supply of seeds, we might talk about how we could get the most out of every seed.  We would discuss each seed and its chance of success. Then in our modern day version of the story, the careful and practical farmer would develop a machine that would distribute each seed in fertile ground.

But this sower isn’t a farmer and the seed is not something that will run out.  This seed is the word of God. The word of God isn’t just the Biblical text; it’s also the experience of God.  It’s God’s love and grace.  And those things don’t come in packages of 100.  They are countless.  The sack that contains these things is bottomless.  Because of that, Jesus is not worried about wasting because there will always be more as long as we keep giving.  As long as we keep reaching into that bag, there will always be more.  But it’s tempting to be strategic in our faith.  We might talk to some people about faith, but only the people we think would be receptive.  We might invite a couple people to church, but only the people who might say yes.  We take the safe road because we fear rejection and we fear failure. 

Even Jesus realized that he would only reach a portion of the people he was speaking to.  When he taught this parable, the crowd was so large he had to move out to a boat to address them.  Yet in the end, the crowd that sat at the foot of the cross was one or two people.  The crowd that condemned him to death was countless.  He preached to them even when he knew they would not stay with him to the end.  Even his disciples would abandon him in some shape or form.  Yet he kept giving abundantly.

A lot of people read this parable and say the point is that it’s all about God and how God provides.  We can’t change the soil on our own.  We can only pray that God will change it.  Therefore it is not about how we can become better listeners, disciples who receive the word of God more authentically.  It’s about a God who is so relentless with his love that he gives it to everyone, even people he knows will reject it.  I agree with that.  This text is about God’s abundant love.  But I also believe that soil can change.  As followers of Christ, we can change.  When the disciples heard this parable, they were the rocky ground.  We know this because when Jesus was arrested, they fled.  Then, Jesus appeared to them in the resurrected form and they rejoiced. They faced their fears and in the end they became that soil that could bear much fruit.  They were able to face persecution without losing heart.  The soil changed.

This parable is not a perfect analogy.  I would have failed my creative writing class with this parable.  As disciples of Christ we are the ground, we are the sower, and we are the seed.  We receive God’s love, we provide God’s love and in some ways, we are God’s love.  God will love us regardless of what kind of soil we are.  Of that, there is no doubt.  But if we want to be vessels of God’s love…if we want to provide God’s love to others, then we have to participate in the Gospel.  We have to dig the rock out of our hearts.  We have to fling the seeds of love in places we know it will be ignored.  Sometimes we have to reject the sensible and safe approach and be a little fearless with our love.  After all, it’s not our love.  It is God’s love.  God has been pretty clear in what we are to do with that love. 

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Matthew 10:24-39: June 22, 2014

Note: I don't have time to post the video. I'll do it when I return.  My next sermon will be July 13th.

Pentecost 2, Year A                                                               
                                                           
            As some of you know, three adult leaders, 10 youth, and I will be embarking on a pilgrimage to Ireland today.  To prepare, I purchased some travelling necessities.  I have this backpack with a built in water bottle, my inflatable neck pillow for the plane, my eye mask for sleeping, anti-bacterial gel, snacks, books, etc, and this is only my carry on.  This is what I need for the plane ride.   After Jesus commissioned his 12 apostles, he sent them on a mission. He advised them to take no money, no extra clothes, only 1 pair of shoes…nothing but what they were wearing.   Then he told them that they would be rejected and probably beaten.   He also empowered them with authority over unclean spirits and the ability to heal people.  I think I would have rather had the authority over the people who were going to beat me and imprison me, but I guess that misses the point. 
            In today’s reading we hear part two of this rather bizarre pep talk.  Once again, he mixes the good with the bad.  He tells them they are valued by God.  God knows us so well that he can tell us how many hairs are on our head.   God knows every time a sparrow even touches the ground, and of course we are worth far more than sparrows.  The disciples are told not to fear those who can kill the body but not the soul.  In other words, they should fear no human. 

            In fact, Jesus tells them not to be afraid three different times.  After the third time he tells them: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother… and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Woh…what happened to the warm and fuzzy Jesus who knows how many hairs we have on our head and holds the little children in his lap?  And why would he tell them not to be afraid, when there are clearly a couple very good reasons to be afraid?

            For the disciples and early Christians, there were many reasons to be afraid.  They were being persecuted by the Romans and some of the Jewish leadership was ostracizing them.  When Jesus said, “A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master…,” he was telling them that they could not expect better treatment than he had.  At this point in the story, Jesus had not been crucified.  This was the first time the cross was even mentioned.  But the people who Matthew was writing to knew what happened to Jesus.  They knew what it meant to carry the cross.

Today most Christians in America are not afraid of being persecuted for their faith.  However, it would appear that fear and anxiety are at an all-time high.  We are barraged by tales of what has happened to others and what might happen to us.  In a world with 24 hour news, we know all the bad things that are happening everywhere.  Then there are some of the more mundane fears we deal with.  One of the newest major fears is called namophobia—fear of losing your phone.  This is especially prevalent with teenagers and young adults.

            On the pilgrimage, we are not supposed to use anything digital so that we can disconnect.  I have to confess, I am kind of freaking out about it.  And I am ashamed of that because the disciples had to go off with nothing and I am merely being deprived of a phone and internet access.  We are not going to hostile territory.  We will not have to beg for our food as the disciples did.  We just don’t have a phone.  I can only assume that there is something deeper going on in our need to have a phone at all times.  Now, we are accustomed to being connected to hundreds of friends at any moment.    If you have a smart phone, or you are near a computer, you can find someone to talk to any hour of the day.  You are never really alone….or so it seems.

            Not only is the internet and social media a means of connection, it can define our self-worth.  If you post a picture, how many people will like your picture?  If you send a tweet…will it be retweeted?  How many friends do you have on facebook?  How many people follow you on twitter?  This is how we measure worth now.   There are certain websites that can tell you how popular or influential you are by your internet presence.  I think this all comes from a need to be worthy—to be worthy of love.  Unfortunately, now that manifests itself in rather shallow ways.  What scares me is that is an incredibly fragile way to measure your worth.  If your worth is based on an internet algorithm…then potentially the guy who makes all the crazy cat videos is worth more than you. 

            While these kinds of standards for measuring worth did not exist in Jesus time, there were still superficial ways of measuring worth.  People were measured by their gender, where they were born, who they born to, what region they were from.  In making his comments about potential divisions in families, Jesus was creating a new paradigm.  He was telling people their worth was not dependent on where they came from.  It was only dependent on their willingness to follow Jesus, to let go of those connections that previously determined their worth and follow him.  And it is no different today.  I think in many ways things like phones and social media keep us from a closer relationship with Jesus as well as other people.  It gives us the illusion of being connected and being valued but it is a very fragile connection. Any connection or measure of self-worth that is dependent on the acceptance and affirmation of other people will always be precarious.

            It is scary and unfathomable when Jesus tells us that he has come to bring not peace but a sword…that he is here to separate us from our family.   Jesus was known for using a bit of hyperbole and that is certainly true here.  He didn’t really want people to separate from their families.  But he did want them to be free from those things that determined worth-- like who they were or were not connected with.  Jesus wanted people free of those earthly connections so that they would be more dependent on Jesus and also be open to creating new families in their faith communities.

            Maybe you are not a big cell phone person because you have spent most of your life without them or you have simply resisted the draw.  That does not mean that you don’t have some place where you get your affirmation and your sense of connection.  It might be a person or even a memory.  What I want us all to ask ourselves is whether  these things really measure what we are worth?  Are these the things that protect our soul?  If it’s a phone, I am going out on a limb and say  no.  Why is it that when we believe in God, we accept such cheap substitutes to comfort us, to know us, so that we do not have to be alone?            Perhaps because none of those things or people expect what God expects of us.  Your iphone will never ask you to carry a cross.  Jesus does.  Your iphone will never ask you to love your enemy.  Jesus does.  Jesus asks for sacrifice and that is something that can be terrifying.  But he also promises something: that we are precious in his eyes, that he loves us more than any person can love us.  In this passage he does not promise to protect us from physical harm but he promises that our souls will be safe in his care.  He will never abandon us.   We can lose Jesus.  We can even lose faith.  But God will never lose us.

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Video for June 8th sermon


http://youtu.be/1my-q3xRgik

June 8th, 2014: Acts 2:1-21

                                               Dancing with Fire

Pentecost, Year A                                                                  

            One of the benefits of being a clergy person is the expectation that you will put thought and prayer into the big questions of our faith and our church.  Like…how much red is too much red on Pentecost Sunday?  Obviously, it’s a day for red shoes…but what about red nail polish?  But seriously…there are many questions that I mull over that are a little more serious than what to wear on Sunday.  One of the things I have been pondering is hope.  Is hope dangerous?  Sounds odd, so let me give you an example:  Let’s say you are a senior in high school and you have applied to one college that you have always dreamed of attending.  However, only a small percentage of people get in. You have to wait several months until you know whether you are accepted.  You could spend those months hoping and dreaming of getting in, or you could consider the statistics and worry the whole time about what happens if you don’t get in.  Then, let’s say you do not get accepted.  Will it be harder if you had spent those months hoping or will it be harder if you never hoped at all?

This is just one example.  I am sure you can all think of some point in your life where you have dealt with something like this.  I remember talking to a friend once about a hope I had.  She was worried it would not work out and my hopes would be crushed.  She recommended that instead I be cautiously optimistic.  It seemed wise at the time, but since then I have wondered why people never encourage others to be cautiously hopeful.  Perhaps because it is not really possible to be cautious when it comes to hope and faith.

            Yet in today’s church, we try so very hard to master the art of cautious or defensive faith.  We have enough faith to get us through, but not enough to get us hurt.  That is what makes Pentecost so out there, so wildly uncomfortable for most of us.  In Biblical times, there were three things that were considered to be the major source of power:  Human, animal and wind.  Out of all three of those, wind is probably the most uncontrollable.  Luke, the author of Acts wrote, “And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.” That must have been a pretty intense sound…almost deafening. I imagine it sounded a bit like when a jet goes overhead…except in this story there was no accounting for the source of the sound.   Then, as if that was not enough, tongues of fire appeared out of nowhere and rested on each one of the apostles.   Just imagine for a moment how terrifying that would be.  We have lighters and matches and all kinds of things that control fire.  But at this time, fire was not really a controllable substance.  It was hard to create and hard to contain.  If a fire was out of control, there was no stopping it. 

            Luke then tells the reader that each apostle was filled with the Holy Spirit and began speaking in different languages.  While I have always wanted to speak fluently in a foreign language, I am not sure I would want for it to happen that way.  It is hard to imagine that this Holy Spirit is the same spirit that Jesus gave them when he appeared to them after his resurrection.  In the Gospel reading that we heard today, Jesus gave the apostles the Holy Spirit by breathing on them and saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  That sounds like a much more dignified way of receiving the Holy Spirit.  That would probably go over better in most of our churches.  How many of you would ask for the Holy Spirit if it meant dancing fire on your head?  Most Episcopalians won’t even consider dancing in church, let alone dancing flames of fire.

            Yet we have all kinds of prayers that we proclaim and we sing where we ask the Holy Spirit to descend on us.  We say those prayers every Sunday.  Today, at the later service, we even have extra Holy Spirit prayers because we have 2 baptisms.  Imagine that if instead of asking the baptismal candidates if they would turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as their Savior, we asked them if they were ready to dance with fire.  How do you think that would go over? We could not ask that of children, but I think we could with adults. 

            In Acts, after the fire descended and the roar of the wind died down, Peter got up to preach a sermon.  In it he quoted the prophet Joel.  God declared “that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams…”  What a vision! When Joel said it in the Old Testament, he was talking about the end of the world.  It was a bit of a doomsday vision.  But Peter reframed it.  It was not about the end, but a new beginning.

 I love the line “and your old men shall dream dreams…”  I am not sure why Joel specified dreaming for old men.  Perhaps the point was that it is never too late to have dreams, have hope even when we have every reason to believe that all hope is lost. I think that kind of dreaming is needed for all of us regardless of our gender or age.

            I have conducted some hope experiments over the last several years.  I have had hope, just to see the hope shattered.  And I have practiced cautious and skeptical optimism only to end up with the same devastating ending.  The only difference was what came before the fall.  In one situation I went through my days with a fire that burned strong.  In another, I barricaded the fire and provided only enough fuel to keep the coals burning.  While the end was the same, at least when the fire burned strong the waiting was more holy, less lonely. 

Hope, even dangerous and precarious hope is always better than cautious optimism…but only when that hope is rooted in God, in the Holy Spirit.  Because while it will always be a slightly dangerous hope, it will be holy and sacred.  It will be a hope that is a beacon in the night…a hope that gives us the courage to dance with the fire when we would rather just dwell in the ash.             

            This sermon is not about the end goal.  It’s about how we get there.  It’s about the hopes and the dreams that inspire us toward the unexpected.  I fear that organized religion does not always give us the freedom to be dreamers…to dance with the flame. In some ways, we have domesticated faith and that is why Pentecost is so important.  We celebrate Pentecost not to remember the dreams of the past, but to remind us that we need to keep dreaming, keep hoping. We proclaim our baptismal covenant not to remind ourselves of what we promised or our parents promised on our behalf, but to rekindle the flame.  Actually, we should do more than just rekindle it--we should let the flame go a little out of control.   We wear red on Pentecost to remind us of the fire, but it’s time that we do more than just remind ourselves of fire.  We have to dance with the fire, feel the heat of it and let it inspire us.  So the real question for all of us is: are you ready to dance with fire?