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.

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?

May 25, 2014: Acts 17:22-31

Year A, Easter 6                                                    

            Last year my husband and I decided to try something a  little different for our vacation.  We found a yoga ashram (which is kind of like a retreat center) and decided to give it a shot.  I called before making the reservation because I was a little worried about the twice daily chanting and meditation.  I have practiced yoga for over 10 years, but I have never gotten into the chanting.  I was also concerned that we would be forced to bow to Hindu gods and that would not have gone over well with my husband.  He was already upset about the fact that there were only 2 meals a day.  They assured me that it was in interfaith center and no one faith was emphasized over the others. 

            We arrived and discovered a beautiful center with breathtaking scenery. Our first yoga class was on a platform right next to the ocean.  We had dinner, which was pretty good. Even my husband was happy.  Then we walked into the temple and both of us freaked out a little.  There were huge pictures of Hindu gods as well as statues of their guru.  In the corner there was a tiny picture of Jesus with a rosary hanging over the edge.  Then we proceeded to chant Sanskrit.  I looked at the translation and it was pretty clearly directed to Hindu gods.  There was also bowing involved. My husband started looking for an escape route.

            The Book of Acts is essentially a sequel to the Gospel of Luke because it was written by the same person.  While the Gospels tell the story of Jesus and his followers, Acts tells the story of the beginning of the church.  The church began in a place where faith and religion was already established. In the Gospels we hear about the Jews and the Gentiles.   Often the term Gentile and pagan are used interchangeably, which is not correct.  Pagans are people who believe in multiple gods.  A Gentile is someone who is not Jewish.  Not all Gentiles were pagans, but pagans were all Gentiles.  Jesus spent most of his time with Jews.  He had a couple interactions with Gentiles, but it was very rare.  Things changed after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension.  In Acts the disciples began to preach to the Gentiles, who were often pagans. 

            In the reading from Acts today, the Apostle Paul addresses the people of Athens.  Athens was the home of the great thinkers and philosophers.   They were idol worshippers and had prolific idols to prove it. This is the first time that Paul addressed a group like this.  He was only in Athens because he was driven out of the previous two cities that he preached and he was really just waiting for his companions to catch up with him.  He had not intended on preaching to the Athenians.   

            However, while he was waiting, he walked around the city and grew exasperated at the sight of idols throughout the city.  He spent some time in the synagogue speaking to Jews but then engaged in conversation with some philosophers who passed by.   The philosophers were curious about this new idea that Paul was discussing and encouraged him to go to the Agora, which was basically the city center, and address the Aregopagus which was the prestigious court of the Athenians.  He was speaking to the philosophical leaders, which was a pretty big deal and the first time that Paul had addressed a crowd like this. 

            Paul took a slightly different tactic than normal.  Typically he was blunt and not too worried about who he would offend.  This situation was different.  It required some finesse.  So he preached the Gospel in a completely different way.  He started by flattering them remarking on how very religious they were with all their objects of worship.  It’s hard to believe he was sincere given that those objects of worship (idols) were the very same thing that exasperated him upon his arrival.  But perhaps in his conversations with the people, he started seeing these objects from a different perspective.  Maybe he realized that any community that would go to the trouble of creating these idols was clearly searching for something that was beyond their understanding.  

He then appealed to their common ground which was creation and nature.  The philosophers had a respect for creation and God’s part in creation.  They recognized that there was something bigger going on.  Then he pointed out that if God created all these things they worship, how could God possibly live in shrines created by human hands?  Paul did not rely on scripture to prove his point, as was his tendency.  Instead, he quoted two well-known philosophers.  He quote, “In him we live, and move and have our being.”  We can agree with that right? It sounds like something that would come out of the Bible.  The second quote was, “For we too are his offspring.”  If we were to use Christian terminology, we would say that we are all children of God.  What Paul was doing was brilliant because he was taking things from their culture and then putting it in the context of the Christian faith.   He wasn’t tearing them down; he was lifting them up.  He was not smashing their idols, he was changing the way they looked at their idols.  

What is fascinating is that he never even mentioned the name Jesus.  He referred to a man who had been raised from the dead.  And that is when things departed from typical philosophical ideals. After talking about us all being offspring, he said, “While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent…because he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and he has given reassurance to all by raising him from the dead.”  In other words, God proved himself when he raised Jesus from the dead.  Therefore, this man who has been raised from the dead is worthy to judge the whole world.  In my opinion that was a pretty big leap, but we probably don’t have the whole speech.

It was at that point (when he made that leap) that he lost a couple of people.  They ridiculed him.  But there were some who wanted to hear more and some immediately became believers.   This might not be the overwhelming response that was experienced in the beginning of Acts, but it’s not bad considering who he was talking to.   At least three people became followers and who knows whose lives they touched. 

My husband and I spent three days at the yoga ashram.  We went to the chanting sessions because it was required; but I resented it. I talked to almost no one the whole time I was there.  In the last hour we were there, we were killing time until our taxi came and one of the yoga teachers offered to give us a tour.  It was fascinating.  We had a wonderful conversation about their philosophy and why they did what they did.  I really regretted that I had been so closed minded that whole time, so unwilling to engage with others because I was uncomfortable.  I just did not know how to relate, even though we all had something in common, and that was yoga.  I’m not saying I should have evangelized to them, but I think we could have learned from one another.  They might have had some questions had they known there were two Episcopal clergy in their midst.

I think a lot of times we try to take things in our culture and change them to make them Christian.  We think that is how we might reach out to non-Christians.  But that is not really authentic.  Instead what we should do is what Paul did.  Find the common ground and put that in the context of the Christian faith.   That sounds harder than it is.   Because if we believe that God created heaven and earth, as well as humans….well then everything is God’s.  Everything belongs in God’s context.  It’s our job to make that real for people, to make it relevant.  We should never miss an opportunity to do that especially when you are not in church.

May 17, 2014: 1 Peter 2:2-10

Easter 5, Year A                                                                

 

            A few years ago the chapel of Virginia Theological Seminary suffered a catastrophic fire.  Much of the building was wooden and it burned in less than an hour.  Since it was in the middle of the day, many of the students witnessed their beloved and historic chapel burn.  A reporter asked a student what it felt like to see her church burn to the ground.  She replied, “That is not the church” and then indicating the people around her she said, “this is the church.”   I assume that the statement was not meant to dismiss the importance of the building, but to indicate that the Church of Christ was the people of Christ, not the structure that housed the people of Christ. 

            In our reading from 2^nd Peter, we hear about living stones.  Jesus is compared to a living stone as are the people who Peter is writing to.  It’s an odd phrase because we don’t usually associate a stone with life, which is one of the reasons why we can’t read this too literally. Peter makes that clear when he writes, “…and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house.”

            In the very early church (when 1^st Peter was written), there were no physical structures dedicated to the Christian faith.  Most Christians were worshipping in homes either because they feared persecution or because there was nowhere else to worship.  There were no community centers or schools and they were no longer welcome in the temples.  They did not have a house dedicated to God (like the Jews were used to having at this time period and we are accustomed to now).  So Peter was urging them to create a spiritual house with themselves as the building blocks and Jesus as the cornerstone.  Thus wherever they went, as long as they were together, they could be in a sacred place.

            I suspect these words were a great comfort to the recipients of this letter.   In the beginning Peter writes “To God’s elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia…”  Because of this greeting, and other indicators in the letter, it is believed that the recipients of this letter were people who were displaced from their homes.   Not only did they not have a place to worship, but they might not even have a place to live.  It’s possible that some of these people were separated from their families and in many ways their heritage.  So the idea that they could create a spiritual home wherever they were and with all different kinds of people gave them the promise of belonging, the promise of a home.

            At the same time, it was a challenge.  Jesus, this stone that had become the cornerstone, was a stone that others had rejected, rather dramatically and violently.  It was a stone that caused some people to stumble. And the people who they were building this new spiritual home with were not necessarily the people they were used to worshipping with.   They were people from various ethnicities, religious backgrounds, and social status.   These living stones did not all look alike, nor did they necessarily fit together well…which is why that corner stone, that foundation of Jesus Christ was so critical.  They were not meant to be a community of like-minded people.  They were meant to be a spiritual house, a sacred space created to worship and honor God. 

Many people believe that Christians worshipped only in homes before Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire in 380.  This is not entirely accurate.  As the communities grew, in the 200’s and 300’s, special spaces were converted for the specific purpose of hosting a Christian community.  If we were to see these places now, we might not recognize them as a church; but they were in the sense that they were buildings designed specifically for a community of Christians to gather and worship Jesus.   They had created that space because they needed the space for more people to gather.

A lot of people today are questioning why we have church buildings now.  Some people would recommend that we go back to house churches like the early church communities.  Then we would not have worry as much about budgets and things like that.   And I thought about that when I was discerning a call to St. John’s.  What would it mean to be a pastor of community that was especially connected to the building where they worshipped?  Why not start a bunch of house churches if that is what the church of the future looks like?

In ancient times, things that were considered rooted in the ground (like Stonehenge for instance or other huge stone structures) were considered to be living because they “seemed to possess some inherent integrity; their vitality was a function of their being rooted in place.”[1]  So in a sense, these monolithic structures were living stones because they were connected to the past.  That is an intriguing idea when you consider that in the context of old church buildings like St. John’s.         It makes me wonder what it is that makes a building a sacred space.  I suppose there would be a different answer for each church and for each person.  But what makes St. John’s especially sacred to me is it’s connection to all those who worshipped before.  When I celebrate the Eucharist with the communion silver from 1618, it’s almost like I can feel the pulse of those who held those vessels in years past.  It’s a profoundly holy experience.  I have heard other people express that same connection; so I am fairly certain it’s not just me.    

While I value that connection, that rootedness in the past, I fear that sometimes the roots keep us from growing in different directions, in seeing ourselves as living stones that have come together to create something sacredly new.  The roots might be our rich history, but the cornerstone is always Jesus Christ.  That is the one thing that brings us together—that keeps us together.  That is who defines us.   And together as living stones, we are called as Christians to build a spiritual house.  That spiritual house is unlike any actual building because it is a building that is never complete.  It is a building that we work on our whole lives.  We work on it as individuals and we work on it as a community.  In terms of our physical space- we know what our building looks like (and soon we will know what our renovated tower looks like), but what does our spiritual house look like?  There are limits to what this beautiful building can do, but there are no limits to what our spiritual house can do—only those limits we inflict upon ourselves.  So let us maintain this building and honor the connection to Christians and to God—but let us burn those limits we put on our spiritual house. Let’s never stop building and stretching. 

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[1] Commentary by Daniel G. Deffenbaughh, www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=909

May 11, 2014: John 10:1-10

Easter 4, Year A                                                         

 

            The General Convention of the Episcopal Church, comprises the leadership of the Episcopal Church, and meets every three years.  I have had the pleasure of participating in the last three. Each diocese sends 4 clergy, 4 lay people and a bishop. This allows every diocese to have equal representation.  It also creates a fairly large group.  There are about 800 clergy and lay people in the House of Deputies.  A flimsy wall surrounds the 800 people so those who are not deputies (and therefore are not voting) have to stay on the outside.  Once you are inside, it is a hodgepodge.  There are people from all across the world. It really allows you to see the diversity of the Episcopal Church. 

            The last time I was there, our deputation was right next to the Diocese of South Carolina.  At the time, South Carolina was very close to deciding to leave the Episcopal Church.  Because most of us knew that, we were all watching them pretty carefully and for the most part going out of our way to be kind and welcoming.  There was another deputation near them that was known to be fairly liberal, so I was especially curious about their interactions. 

The Gospel reading for today tells part of the familiar story of the Good Shepherd.  Jesus refers to himself as both the Good Shepherd and the gate that the sheep enter through.  This passage comes right after Jesus had a pretty major altercation with the Pharisees.  He had cured a blind man and this created a huge disagreement in the community about where Jesus got his power from.  The Pharisees were trying to prove that he was not a man of God. Things did not end well.  Following this disagreement, Jesus told a story about bandits and thieves who tried to steal the sheep and strangers who tried to lead the sheep astray. 

It is natural for us to assume that these bandits and thieves might be the people who Jesus was disagreeing with.  In some ways, we can find the imagery of a gate…of separation, comforting.  It’s us against all those bad guys lurking around, trying to steal our book of common prayer, our church property and even our people.  It’s us against those thieves and bandits. 

            When John wrote this Gospel, the Christian Church was not yet established.  There was a contingent of Jewish people who had come to believe that Jesus was the Messiah.  They did not yet see themselves as a separate group.  They were not trying to break off and create their own church.   They saw it as a natural progression for the Jewish people, and in time all Jews would come to know Jesus as the Messiah. 

But in the meantime, the Jews who accepted Jesus as the Messiah were in the minority.  They must have felt the pain of separation, the pain of being ostracized by a group that was essentially their family.  Therefore, it must have been very important to them, that they be right, that they be on the inside of the fence this time. 

            I do not believe that was the way Jesus thought.  Jesus did not see groups.  He saw individuals.  Jesus could see into the depths of each person’s soul.  Thus when Jesus referred to himself as a gate, it is not a gate that divides.  It is a gate that welcomes.  There were two different kinds of sheep folds in this time period.  One was the large communal sheep fold in the village.  These sheep folds had good fences and one very strong door or gate.  They were safe places for the sheep and the shepherd.

 But shepherds liked to take their herds out in the warm season and they would not necessarily return to the village at night.  In those times, the shepherd had to create a more rudimentary sheepfold.  Instead of having a door with a key, there was just a small opening.  Therefore, to protect the sheep, the shepherd would lie across the opening.  Anyone, or anything that would go in or out, would literally have to go over the body of the shepherd. 

That is how Jesus acted as a gate.  It was not simply a matter of dividing some sheep from everything else; it was about being the point of entry into the community.  Every individual would come by, or over Jesus.  People were not judged by what group they were part of, where they were on the spectrum of conservative or liberal.  It was about knowing the underbelly, the soul of each person coming through. 

            There are a lot of fences in the Episcopal Church now.  There have been for some time.  Of all the General Conventions that I have been to, this seemed the most amicable, although that might have been because most of the people who were upset had already left.  Everyone in that gated area knew that there was a good chance South Carolina would walk out and not return.  As the days went by, more and more of their deputation left.  By the last day, their table was empty. 

            I think we have to be careful about how we use the gates in our communities.  We do not have the shepherd with us…not literally.  We can’t always know for sure if what we are doing is what he would want us to do.  What I know is that he would want us to leave our doors and gates wide open.  There might be someone standing at the gate, but that person should be someone who would be ok with the underbelly of the individual.  

            We might think that we do not have to worry at St. John’s about things that are going on in the national church.  Perhaps not, but I believe each individual church deals with some of the same challenges.  We get so nervous about protecting ourselves from what is outside of us that we lock our doors and welcome people with caution.  We would not want someone to walk all over us, would we?  Yet that was exactly the model that Jesus was displaying.  The sheep walked right over the shepherd.   It was one of the reasons that the shepherd knew the sheep so well. 

I am not advocating having our usher lie across the entrance of the church.  That would make people a little uncomfortable.  I am just trying to figure out how our community can not only be welcoming to the outside but also be ok with the underbelly of one another who are already here.

            A couple days into the convention, someone I knew from the liberal deputation turned to one of the priests from South Carolina.  She shook his hand and said, “I’m really glad you are here.  We need people like you in our church to give us balance. If you leave, it will throw us off balance.”  I found this fascinating because I knew the person who was talking was gay and in a partnered  relationship.  She would not be allowed to serve in South Carolina and she knew that.  But he still wanted them to stay with us in the fold. 

            Maybe instead of just worrying about who we are letting in, we should also consider those who feel so different and alone, that they think they have to leave.  That is why it is so important that we know and love the underbelly.  Because once you really love someone as Jesus loves each of us, it’s harder to let them go and it is harder for them to go.  The church should not be an easy place to exit, not because we lock you in, but because we are committed to loving one another even when we are so incredibly different, even when we occasionally mistake one another for the thief or the bandit.

            There is no room in the Kingdom of God for thieves and bandits.   Jesus said, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  The thieves and bandits only come out when we are stingy with our love.  Because then we are the thieves and bandits. Let us not be stingy with our love.

May 4, 2014: Luke 24:13-35 (youtube link included)

You can find this on youtube here: http://youtu.be/Xc-1ma_uY9o

Year A, Easter 3                                                                     

                                                                               

            This is a perplexing story. In some ways, I felt as though I was unraveling a mystery as I studied it…or at least trying to.  One of the many mysteries of this story is why the two followers of Jesus did not recognize Jesus when he appeared to them.  Was he wearing a disguise…speaking in a funny accent?  How is it that two people who had known him so well could perceive him as a stranger?  Of course this is not the only time when Jesus is not recognized after his resurrection.  Mary thought that Jesus was a gardener.  My theory which I shared with you on Easter is that she was not able to recognize Jesus because she was blinded by her own expectations. She was looking for him in the wrong place…in the tomb.  That is not where you find the risen Christ.  I think part of the reason these two followers of Jesus did not recognize the risen Christ was because they were moving in the wrong direction.  Instead of looking in the wrong place like Mary was, they had stopped looking at all.

            When Jesus first appeared to them, they were leaving Jerusalem…the place where Jesus was crucified.  They were leaving even though there were rumors that Jesus was alive again. You would think that if there was even a chance that Jesus was alive again, even a crazy rumor, they would have stuck around to see what all the fuss was about.  Why were they leaving the holy city?  When they told this stranger who ended up being Jesus what had happened, they said, “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.”  We had hoped. 

They stopped hoping, even though they had heard him talk about his resurrection before he died, even though they had heard from people that he was back, risen from the dead.  But this was not how it was supposed to be.  He was crucified by the Romans and Israel was not redeemed. If anything, things were worse than before.  Things had not turned out as they hoped and because of that they did not even recognize Jesus. 

            Yet in just a few short hours, Jesus reawakened their hope.  He didn’t do it with a spectacular light show.  The clouds did not break allowing rays of light to rest upon his head.  There was no voice from heaven.  All of these things had happened before while he was still alive, but not this time.  This time Jesus simply walked with them and listened to their grief and their fear.  He talked to them about the Bible, the Hebrew Scriptures…which is the place where they had first learned to hope. 

Yet their hope was still dead…at least it was dormant.  They still could not see.  So he sat down and ate with them because they begged him to stay.  Even though they did not recognize him as the Christ, they saw something in him that made them need his presence.   There were still walls around their heart, but the walls were beginning to crumble.  The scales were falling from their eyes. And then he broke bread with them.  Finally they saw and believed.

Well, duh…I mean how obvious can you be? Wouldn’t we all see Jesus if he broke bread with us?  It’s such an obvious allusion to the Last Supper.  But wait, these two were not with Jesus at the Last Supper.  These two were not one of the 12 apostles.  They had not read the Gospels because the Gospels has not yet been written.  When I see this scene in my head I imagine Jesus breaking bread and then winking at the television audience—now they are going to get it! It was not as obvious as it seems to us.  They were not at the last supper.  This was not an obvious hint.  Something else opened their eyes. Their hearts that were so closed off because hope had died, their hearts finally opened. 

            And I am not sure why.  But I believe it’s because like so many of us, faith took time.  When all hope is lost when hope has literally died on a cross, it’s going to take some persistence.  They had built walls around their hearts to protect themselves and it was going to take time for those walls to come down.  Jesus was going to have to do more than just preach a good sermon for them.  He was going to have to stay a little while, sit with them and share a meal.  You know, sometimes I think that if I can preach a good enough sermon, I can break through to someone who has lost faith.  And I know how that sounds, I know it is only God who can make such a difference, but I believe that my sermons come from God, at least the times when God can break through my walls. 

            You see we all have these walls around our hearts.  Some of us have been building them for years and years…some perhaps have temporary walls that go up occasionally when we need them, or think we do. Our walls are as unique as each of us.  Cleopas and his nameless friend had walls too.  And I suspect that the walls were always there.  The hope they had while Jesus was alive was probably a little fragile.  Hope can be a fragile thing, which is why we protect it with walls. 

            One of the many interesting things about this story is that Jesus doesn’t just stop them on the road to Emmaus, make himself known, give them a pep talk and tell them it is time to turn around.  He could have.  He could have done something dramatic, perhaps even forced them to see.  But he didn’t.  He knew they had to come to this a little more slowly. So he walked with them, even when they going the wrong way.  He stayed with them, even though they were still blind to his presence. 

Jesus’ love for us is persistent.  It is relentless.  Even when we are not persistent in our faith, even when we are moving in the completely wrong direction, Jesus never gives up on us.  Jesus knows that no matter how thick—how sturdy our walls are, they ultimately crumble in his divine presence.  And when we veer off course again…which we will, Jesus will always be there to guide us back.  

            Jill and Casey- I would tell you that your journey is just beginning, but I won’t.  In some ways it is true, but you both have already had profound experiences and challenges in your faith journey.  You will have more.  One of my favorite parts of this ceremony is the charge to the young people (your peers) and the congregation.  In this service, like in baptism, we agree to support you in your faith.  There will be times when you need that support.  There will be times when you will be a support to others.  One of things that the two people on the road to Emmaus discovered was the importance of sharing their faith and their doubt with one another.  I think that trip would have been much harder if they were alone.  Jesus came to both of them. I hope you know that church is a place where you do not have to be perfect.  You can have doubts and questions and you can share those doubts. We are companions on this journey together.  Wherever you may go, whatever you may do, remember this, you are always welcome here. Nothing can change that.  (That goes for the rest of your too.)

(The last part of this sermon was written specifically for our Rite 13 Celebration.)