Maundy Thursday: March 29, 2018

John 13:1-17, 31b-35                                               

            For many years the pope of the Roman Catholic Church has been washing feet on Maundy Thursday. Before 2013, the mass was held in St Peter's basilica or the basilica of St John.  However, in 2013 a recently consecrated Pope Francis washed the feet of 12 teenagers in a juvenile prison. Previous popes typically washed the feet of clergy.  Since Pope Francis was elected, he has washed feet in prisons, a center for asylum seekers, and a home for the elderly and disabled.  This year, he will once again wash the feet of 12 men in a maximum security prison. 

            Pope Francis has been determined to wash the feet of people of different faiths, genders, and ethnicities. In these 5 years, he has washed the feet of convicted felons, women (which was previously unheard of), Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Evangelicals, Muslims, a Buddhist and a Hindu person. For the pope, the symbolic act of foot washing is not merely an act of humility, it is an act of love and bringing people together. 

            If you look at the verses we read for the Gospel reading, you will see that there is a huge part that is skipped over.  We go from verse 17 to verse 31. We go from Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and telling them to do likewise to the verses about Jesus being glorified and then the love commandment, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  It’s a sweet gesture, washing the feet of his 12 disciples, his inner circle.  It was gesture of humility and love.  No one likes to wash feet, so it is nice that he would do this for his friends.  If we did not read verses 17 to 31, we could leave it at that, a nice gesture by Jesus for his friends.

            However, if you read those middle verses, this symbolic act becomes much more radical.  In these verses Jesus told the disciples that one of them will betray him.  He told them by saying, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread…” It was Judas, the man whose feet he had just washed, the man with whom he had shared a meal. 

            When Jesus confronted Judas, Judas left to accept the bribe and betray his friend.  It was only after that confrontation when Jesus told his disciples, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  Right after that command, he told Peter that he would deny him.  These are the bookends of this commandment to love one another, one friend who will betray him and one who will deny him. 

            What Jesus was showing was that despite what these 2 men would do…Jesus would still love them.  Even knowing what would happen—that one would betray, one deny and the rest abandon him—he still washed their feet and told them he loved them. That is what makes this more than a sweet and sentimental gesture.  This is not just about how we treat our friends and family.  It is about how we treat the people who have hurt and betrayed us. 

            In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot 4 times.  The man was arrested and the pope not only forgave him, he visited him in prison. He then advocated for his release many years later. The would-be assassin left prison in 2010 and made news when he visited the grave of the late pope and left flowers.   That is an extreme example of loving those who have hurt us, but it’s a pretty good example. 

            While most of us have not been shot or turned in to the police for crimes we did not commit, we all know what it is to be betrayed or abandoned.  We all know what it feels like when someone we love says one thing and acts in an entirely different way.  Imagine what it would feel like to wash their feet, or maybe just look them in the eye and smile. 

            At another church I served, I had someone who yelled at me after the service.  He really yelled and did it in front of other people.  I knew it had nothing to do with me. It was something else going on in his life, but it hurt me and made me angry.  The next week he came up for communion and I thought “please don’t let him be on my side of the rail”---but he was of course because God likes to challenge us.  I would like to tell you that I gave him communion and my hurt and angry feelings just went away.  But they didn’t.  I was still mad.  But I smiled and I kept smiling.  It took a couple weeks, maybe even more, but eventually those smiles became genuine and I got over it. 

            That’s the thing about symbolic gestures, they don’t always represent exactly what is going on inside of us, but they do represent what we hope will happen, what we hope we will become.  If we continue to try, eventually the symbolic gesture becomes more than a gesture. It becomes real.  Jesus was upset with Judas. He called him out in front of the disciples.  He did the same thing with Peter. But he still shared the meal. He still washed their feet. 

             

            We do more than foot washing at this service.  As we do every Sunday, we read the confession together.  Typically before launching into the confession, I like to give a moment for everyone to silently consider the sins they have committed. Tonight I will give us all a little longer to consider what sins are keeping us from loving people.  Then we will share communion together. We will crowd around the altar in this rather tight space and we will accept the gift that God has given us, the same gift that he gave his disciples, a love that knows no boundaries, a love that is meant to unite instead of divide.  

            After that, the altar and this whole chancel area will be stripped.  It will be laid bare, which is what we are all trying to do before God.  Then finally when you leave, I encourage you to drop a coin in one of the buckets.  The coin represents a way we have betrayed, denied or abandoned God.  When we drop the coin, we leave that sin behind and we journey toward Easter with the knowledge that we have moved this much closer to loving others as God loves each one of us.

You Know God: March 18, 2018

Year B, Lent 5                                                
Jeremiah 31:31-36                                                     

            Recently, there have been a lot of studies about whether humans are predisposed to believe in some kind of higher power. Some of these studies use information based on brain scans.  Other studies research the beliefs of children or other controlled groups.  What many of these studies have concluded is that we are hard wired to believe in something bigger than ourselves.  What people have noted is that every culture, no matter how isolated it may be, develops some kind of religion that they adhere to. 

Many people will hear this theory and use it as a critique of religious beliefs.  Their contention is that we believe because we need to believe, not necessarily because it’s true.  Yet when I consider how and why we are hardwired to believe, I think it provides proof of the existence of God.  We are created to believe.  It’s our default setting. God created us this way so we could have a relationship with him, so that not believing would be against our very nature. 

            Jeremiah is known as “the weeping prophet” as so much of this book is kind of depressing.  He spends the majority of the first 30 chapters warning the Hebrew people that they need to repent or be punished. Their punishment will come in the form of a mass deportation.  Babylon will invade and the majority of the Hebrew people will be sent into exile. Since we know that the people were exiled, it would appear that they did not heed the warnings of Jeremiah, which was pretty much the norm at this time and our time as well. 

Beginning with chapter 30, we have a brief reprieve from the weeping and reprimanding.  In these few chapters, Jeremiah tells the people that the days are coming when the Lord will make a new covenant and he will forgive their sins—not only forgive them, he will forget their sins.  That is an important distinction because it means that God is wiping the slate clean.  There will be no memories of wrong doing. I have always wished I could forget the things I have done wrong or wrongs that have been done to me. Alas…as humans, we can’t force ourselves to forget things.  God can’t force us to forget things.  God can choose to forget our sins, which is an incredible gift.  That is what God has given to his people.

He also gave them something else, a new way to experience God’s law. Jeremiah wrote that when this new day arrived the law of the Lord would not be written on stone tablets, it would be written on their hearts.  It would be seared into their very being.  While God can choose to forget the sins of his people, the people will never be able to forget the law of the Lord.

            Now when we think of law, it normally does not give us warm and fuzzy feelings.  We perceive law as something that is imposed upon us. We follow laws because we have to and we will get punished if we do not. At the time Jeremiah was writing, some people perceived God’s law like this.  Many of us still do. But that was never God’s intention (at least not that I know of). 

Thus when Jeremiah says that the Lord will establish a new covenant, it’s not new in regards to the content.  It’s not like God said, “Forget those 10 pesky commandments and that whole love God and your neighbor thing—we are trying something new.”  No.  The laws are essentially the same, but God was asking that people obey the laws not out of fear, but out of love for God.   That is a huge transition to make.  God knew that, which is why he said: “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.”  God was telling them and God is telling us that his love and his laws are now inscribed on our hearts.  It is not some outside force coming and telling us how to act and what to believe, it is part of who we are.  It is a good part of who we are.   

I am not a scientist, so take this for what it is worth.  Here’s my theory: what if that predisposition to believing in God is connected to this idea of God’s laws inscribed on our hearts?  God knows that humans are a little weak at times and fickle a lot of the time.  Thus when we were created, he inscribed his law on our hearts so that even those who know nothing of Christ or any organized religion walk through life with this feeling, this desire for more meaning in their life.

We see it all the time.  I heard someone describe Soulcycle as their religion.  If you do not know what it is, it’s a trendy exercise class where everyone gets in a dark room and rides on a stationary bike. There is loud music and someone screaming at you to try harder, to be better, to not give up.  It’s called Soulcycle, which is not exactly subtle.  It is clear what they are trying to accomplish. I go to a yoga class every week where the instructor gives us lessons on how to find meaning in our lives.  She quotes all kinds of gurus and the people in the class love it….because that might be the only time in the week when they find a deeper connection and meaning. 

We are hardwired to believe.  God created us to want to believe.  If we were to visualize the law written on our heart, it wouldn’t be a long list of rules.  It would say something like, “Love the Lord, your God with all your heart, mind and soul and love your neighbor as yourselves.”  God has written that law on our hearts.  We know God.  Deep down in each one of us, we know God.  However, that does not mean we are off the hook.  I know that eating a bunch of chocolate is bad for me. But that knowledge only helps if I actually resist the chocolate.  We know God.  That is the gift that God has given us all.  The gift that we give to God, is to act in a way that proves that we know God. 

One commentator wrote that “We talk about God like God is not in the room.”  As someone who spends a lot of time talking about God, that really got my attention.  It made me wonder if I would speak differently if I sensed God in the room. I feel pretty confident that I would act differently if I sensed his presence in a tangible way.  We talk about what it is to know God.  We talk about God’s presence with us.  But I worry that we have made God too abstract.  God’s intention was never to be part of a belief system. God’s intention has always been to be part of who we are.  He has written his law of love on our hearts.  He’s here, within each one of us.  

Our world is a scary place right now. Perhaps it always has been. But I find hope in the knowledge that God has carved out a spot in every human on this planet.  It is up to us as Christians not only to act in a way that reflects that law inscribed in our hearts, but be witnesses to God’s presence in other people, in every person.  We know God.  That is the gift that God has given us all.  The gift that we give to God, is to act in a way that reflects that knowledge.

Above quote from Karoline Lewis  http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5114

The Challenge Facing the Church: Feb. 25, 2018

Year B, Lent 2                                                    
Mark 8:31-38                                                

            I hear a lot about the church of the 1950’s and 60’s. The church was full and everyone attended every Sunday.  Church mattered.  Businesses were closed.  Nothing else was happening on Sundays.  You came to church because that was the place to be.  If you were a community leader, a government official, a business owner, anyone in leadership, you went to church. If you did not, you were judged accordingly.  Church attendance hit an unprecedented high in the 1950’s.  Some people have called that period the 3^rd Great Awakening. 

Since then church membership has been on a steady decline.  Steady might not be the right word---it was on a gradual decline and has plummeted in the last 20 years. Sometimes, I wish that I had been born decades earlier and could have served in a church that prospered with little effort.  There was no need for evangelism or marketing.  You opened the door and people came in (of course, I would not have been able to be ordained as they did not start ordaining women until the end of the 1970s—but that’s not the point.)  It seems odd to be nostalgic for a time I did not live in; yet I find myself longing for that experience of the 1950’s church. 

            A lot of people who remember the church of the 1950s and 1960s assume that it was always like that. The reality is that the church and the Christian faith have gone through many periods of growth and decline.  After both the American Revolution and the Civil War, the Episcopal Church was near collapse.  Even St. John’s barely survived those difficult times.   While there have been tumultuous times in the last 300 years, it was probably the first 300 years of the Christian Church that were the most challenging.  Being a Christian was a dangerous thing to be as Christians were openly persecuted. They were tortured or killed for admitting their faith. 

            It should not come as a surprise that the Christian faith struggled to gain a foothold for several centuries. Our God died on a cross.  He was killed by the people who were in power. Who wants to join a faith community that worships the losing side, the guy who was killed?  Today, the cross is not shameful, nor is a crucified Messiah.  Now the cross is a symbol of our faith, a faith that has survived and thrived for over 2000 years.  However, for the first 200 years of the church the cross was not a welcome symbol.  There was shame associated with that kind of death. Jesus was not the only person crucified.  Criminals were crucified by the thousands in that time. 

            If it was difficult to accept a crucified Messiah after his death and resurrection, imagine what it must have been for the disciples to hear Jesus talk about his impending death.  The disciples had come to know Jesus in a specific way.  They had seen all the miracles he performed, the people he had healed, the huge crowds who had followed him. They had seen him preach to masses and beat even the greatest theologians and church leaders in arguments. While not all agreed with him, all recognized his power and authority. 

Shortly before our reading for today, Jesus asked the disciples who people thought he was.  The disciples answered that some thought that he was one of the prophets, or John the Baptizer come back to life, or even Elijah, the great Hebrew prophet who had died and was expected to return right before the arrival of the Messiah.  So far, no one was right. Then he asked who they thought he was.  They knew him best.  If anyone knew, they should know. Peter spoke up and said, “You are the Messiah.” Finally, they were getting it.  These disciples finally saw Jesus for who he truly was. 

            Immediately after this revelation, Jesus started sharing that he would have to undergo great suffering, be rejected, be killed and then rise again.  Perhaps he thought that they were ready to hear this now that they understood who he was.  But how could knowing he was the Messiah possibly prepare them for this?  Messiahs are not rejected by humans and they certainly don’t suffer.  They definitely don’t get killed. It’s madness. Peter rebuked him.  We don’t know exactly what he said when he rebuked him, but it was probably something like, “Don’t talk like that!  Chin up.  You are the Messiah. You are not going to suffer and die.”  Peter probably thought he was being supportive.

            Jesus did not like what Peter had to say because he called him Satan and told him to get behind him. He then said, “For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”  If I had been Peter, this would have confused me a little.  If anyone was focusing on human things, it was Jesus.  Humans are rejected.  Humans suffer.  Humans are killed. Messiahs shouldn’t experience those human things.  It would seem that Jesus had some funny ideas on what it was to be a Messiah.

Then Jesus made it worse because he told the disciples and the assembled crowd that they too would have to suffer if they wanted to be his followers. Not only will Jesus have to carry the cross, but all his followers will have to take up their cross.  I bet Jesus did not gain any followers that day.  The disciples stuck around, partially because they were convinced he wasn’t serious about this whole suffering thing. He had to explain it to them two more times and they acted confused each time, as if this was the first time they were hearing it.

            Who can blame them?  Not only did it not make sense, it was an incredibly difficult teaching. The cross was a form of torture.  None of these men had easy lives. They were Jews living under Roman occupation.  While Jesus was popular with many, the religious authorities did not like him. The disciples knew this and this must have made them a little anxious.  They knew what it was to suffer.  But death on a cross? Where is the victory?  Where is the triumph?

            As people who know what it is to celebrate Easter, we know what the victory is.  We know that Jesus conquered death.  But we also know that most of the disciples were killed eventually, some is rather horrific ways. There are still people being killed today just for being Christians.  And on a much less violent note, we in the Episcopal Church know what it is to be part of a church that is not considered successful, not in human terms. 

            I entered seminary in 2001. In those first 5 years of the millennium, church attendance and membership moved from a gradual decline to a nosedive.  When I decided to pursue ordination in 2004, someone asked me, “Why would you want to be ordained when the church is dying? It’s a sinking ship.”  At the time, I thought that was ridiculous.  The church would turn around.  This was just a blip. But it has not turned around (and I am hoping this great decline has no direct correlation with the fact that I was ordained near the beginning of it!)

Before we all get too depressed, I would like to suggest something. Instead of worrying about the decline and bemoaning the loss of the status of the church, perhaps we can look at it from another perspective. Like the disciples, Jesus asks us not merely to look at the human things, but the divine as well.  It is human to suffer and die.  We can all agree on that. According to Jesus, it is divine to suffer and die.  But it is also divine to rise again. 

It is not easy to be the church in today’s world.  We have to work harder and to some extent we have to suffer a little as well.  However, if we believe this is God’s church, then suffering and death is only part of the story.  The final part is resurrection.  It is new life.  We assume that if the church is suffering it’s because something is wrong.  Perhaps we can see it as part of what it is to be a disciple; and instead of looking at it as suffering, we could look at it as living into a challenge. That is not just true for the church but for every individual life.  Everyone faces challenges in life---some more than others.  We don’t give up when we face challenges, we find ways to rise again.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus told Peter, “Now I say to you that you are Peter (which means 'rock'), and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it.”  Despite Peter’s faults, Jesus called him the rock. The church was built on a flawed human and that gives me hope, because Jesus knew he was flawed and he still chose him to be the rock.  Even though the church was built on a flawed human, this church, our church was built by Jesus.  The powers of hell will not conquer it.

Confession of a Hypocrite: Ash Wednesday

Year B, Ash Wednesday     
Matthew 6                                                                                           February 14, 2018

 

            One of the biggest criticisms of Christians is that we are hypocrites.  We say one thing and we do another.  We act one way in church and then an entirely different way when we are out of church.  We claim to love everyone, but we don’t treat everyone the same way.  These are just some of the accusations that I have heard lobbed at Christians as a whole.  I am always tempted to defend Christians or claim that we Episcopalians are different, but I know that won’t help.  That’s what hypocrites do…deny their hypocrisy.

            In the Gospel for today, Jesus tells us how not to be like the hypocrites.  There were three things that Jews were expected to do: give alms to the poor, pray, and fast.  The problem wasn’t that people were not doing those things.  They were, but some were doing them for the wrong reasons.  When they gave alms, they would make sure that everyone knew they were giving money to the poor.  Giving lots of money provided a certain status because not only did it mean that you had a lot of money to give, but that you were exceptionally good and generous.  When people prayed, they would not only do it in a public place, but they would make their prayers as long as possible, so as to appear more pious.  Finally, while the Jews only have one day (the Day of Atonement) where fasting is necessary, many of the Pharisee and scribes fasted on Mondays and Thursdays.  They flaunted their piety by parading around in public looking dismal and hungry.  Sometimes they would even whiten their face to make themselves look more pale and underfed.  They wanted everyone to know that they were the holy ones, they were the ones who were closest to God.  While these actions should have made them closer to God, they were too focused on impressing their peers.

As much as I may want to judge these Pharisees and pretend that I am not at all like them, I am not sure I can.  How many of us wait to make sure the cashier or waiter is looking before putting money in the tip jar? How many of us get annoyed when we do not get a thank you note after giving a gift or making a donation?  I am always mortified when I am in church or some assembly where they are taking an offering and I realize I have no cash to give, nor do I have a checkbook.  I am not mortified because I cannot give to the cause or the charity.  I am mortified because I am worried about what people around me will think.  Sometimes I will even be extra thorough as I search through my purse so the person next to me will understand my predicament.  I understand what it is to want people to know that you are doing good.   

Ash Wednesday is a little confusing.  We read a Gospel reading that specifically says that we should not try to look dismal like the people who disfigure their face when they are fasting. Do you know one of the ways they disfigured their face?  They put ash on their face.  After we proclaim these words of Jesus about not disfiguring our face, we put ash on everyone’s face.  While it’s not a written rule, the unspoken rule is that you leave the ash on your forehead the rest of the day. It’s quite a juxtaposition.            

Before we get too critical of the practice of putting ash on our heads, it’s important to know that there is biblical precedent.  In the Old Testament, when people were repenting before God, one way to prove their humility was to put ash on their face.  Most times this pleased God.  This was seen as an appropriate gesture.

 It also reminds us of our mortality.  After Adam and Eve disobeyed God, God told them their punishment.  He listed many things and ended with, “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  By putting ash on our face, we are reminded that we were created from the earth, and one day we will return to the earth.  It kind of puts things in perspective.

Yet I think there is something else going on.  It’s about more than repentance or our mortality.  It’s about being honest about who we are.   As Christians, we occasionally are hypocritical.  It’s almost impossible not to be.  We are trying to follow the teachings of Jesus, a man who was perfect.  We know we should be emulating him, but we don’t always act like Jesus.  There is a lot of time we don’t act like Jesus.  We aren’t perfect, but we still call ourselves Christian. 

One of my favorite quotes about church is that “we are not a museum for the saints, we are a hospital for sinners.”  We do not come to church because we are perfect Christians. We come to church because we know that we need help being Christian and that hearing God’s word and participating in the sacraments helps remind us of what it is to be a Christian.  We might mess up as soon as we walk out, but it’s usually unintentional.  By walking out of this church with ash on our foreheads, we are saying, “Yup, sometimes I am a hypocrite---but I am trying really hard not to be.”

The ashes that we put on our face expose the world to who we truly are.  It’s the one time when we can freely admit that we are sinners and are in need of repentance.  Everyone is covered with the same ash.  We all share the same desolation, in that we are all sinners.  If you feel like you always have to pretend that you are happier, smarter, more pious than you are…this is your day to expose the real you.  So maybe this is hypocritical. But you know what, at least we can admit that.  That is what Lent is about—a time to reflect on who we are and find ways to be closer to God.

 

Idea of admitting our own hypocrisy was from a sermon by Dr. Elizabeth Huwiler given on February 9, 2005 at Lutheran  Theological Seminary Chapel.
http://www.ltsp.edu/reflections/2004-2005/050209huwiler.html

 

 

Transfiguration: February 11, 2018

Mark 9:2-9                                                                          
Year B, Last Sunday of Epiphany                                                       

 

            I was listening to the news a couple of days ago and heard someone being interviewed about SpaceX, which is a private aerospace manufacturer founded by Elon Musk.  Just this past week, they launched an incredibly powerful rocket into space, the most powerful rocket in the last several decades. Apparently the ultimate goal of SpaceX is to colonize Mars.  Their next project is a spaceship that would be the size of a 16 story skyscraper, essentially a cruise ship to outer space. It could take about 100 people to Mars. 

Obviously the story caught my attention, but it did not surprise or shock me.  Sure, a cruise ship to Mars, why not?  We have become so technologically advanced, that it almost seems that anything is possible….which is wild because I am old enough to remember when I saw my first cell phone…which was a car phone at the time.  The idea that you could make a phone call from a car blew my mind.  It is amazing that 25 years later, a cruise ship to Mars seems feasible to me. 

            It is a lot harder to impress or shock people nowadays.  We are accustomed to special effects in movies, smart phones that can control the lights in our home, the ability to get anything we want or need by talking to a disembodied voice called Alexa or Siri.  Yet when I was reading about this Gospel text, the Transfiguration, commentators kept stressing how unbelievable and mysterious the event was…how impossible it is to comprehend a man lighting up and voice coming from heaven.  I thought, we are talking about cruise ships to Mars, how is it that clothes whiter than anyone could bleach them would be mind blowing or unimaginable?

            Yet it is, when you think about---well it’s more than just thinking about it, it’s best if you can imagine yourself there as part of that scene.  You have just hiked up a mountain with a man you have come to admire and perhaps even worship.  You have seen him do amazing things, heal people and drive out demons.  However, you have also seen him when he was tired and hungry.  You have seen him sit down and eat a big meal.  You have seen him when he is frustrated and scared.  In some ways, he’s just your average guy. And then suddenly you see him glowing.  It’s not just that his clothes are white, his whole presence has become dazzling.  It is like looking at the sun just a few moments too long or coming out of a dark tunnel and finding yourself in Times Square on New Year’s Eve.  He isn’t just bright, he is transformed so radically that it is disorienting. 

If that is not crazy enough, he is talking to two people who have appeared out of nowhere.  Not only do they appear out of nowhere, they are two people who are supposed to be dead.  It is Elijah and Moses, two giants of the Hebrew faith.  Then a cloud sweeps in.  You might think a cloud would not be that impressible, but in the Jewish faith the presence of a cloud, especially on a mountain, symbolized the presence of God. If that was not dramatic enough….all of a sudden, there is a voice that comes from the sky and proclaims, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.”

Granted, Mars might seem like another world, but it is still part of our galaxy.  Yet this Transfiguration marked a moment when heaven and earth touched, when the living and dead inhabited one space, when Jesus could be both human and divine, and when the voice of God could break through the silence.

There are only two times in the Gospel of Mark when we hear the voice of God that comes directly from heaven.  It’s at Jesus baptism when the sky splits and the Transfiguration.  At Jesus’ baptism the voice said, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  God was talking to Jesus as he was beginning his public ministry.  He was affirming him and empowering him. In today’s reading, God is speaking to the disciples, but he is also speaking to us.  Jesus isn’t just another powerful preacher and teacher.  He is not just a miracle worker who healed some people, he is the Son of God, and for that reason alone, we need to listen to him. 

            After the light show, the guest appearance of the two dead prophets, the cloud and the voice….poof…it was gone.  It was only Jesus who was left. The disciples could have walked down that mountain and convinced themselves it was a dream or a trick of the light.  Or, they could let the experience change them and become part of who they were.  Since we know that three of the four Gospels tell the story of the Transfiguration, it is apparent that this was an event that had an incredible impact not only on the disciples who were present, but the early church as well. 

            What makes the Transfiguration more awe inspiring and more spectacular than a cruise ship to Mars is that it has the potential to affect all of us.  It is not just life changing for a few special people who were there 2000 years ago; it changes all who are willing to open themselves to the extraordinary and mesmerizing glory of God.   God’s light did not just stay with Jesus after he was transfigured, nor did it simply disappear into the ether; it was released into the world so that we all can become vessels of that light. 

I know that I have preached a few sermons about the need to be the light and carry the light.  That is important, but before we can be the light, we have to open ourselves to the glory of the light.  We have to behold the light.  It’s not a one and done type of thing.  We celebrate Christmas and Easter every year.  We celebrate the Transfiguration every year.  We do that for several reasons, but one of the reasons is so that we can have many opportunities to remind ourselves of the power and glory of God. As Christians, we have unlimited opportunities to be transformed.

            Some of the opportunities can be found in the sacraments of the church, like baptism and communion.  Other opportunities can be found in less formal areas, like service and outreach.  Night’s Welcome is an incredible example of transformation because we see the building actually transformed into a place where the homeless people sleep and eat.  Yet the deeper transformation is in the people who come here and the people who serve.  Every year I find myself a little bit humbled by the amount of people who come and serve, the amount a few people sacrifice so that many can be served, and especially the people who come and sleep on our floors. 

            The story of the Transfiguration is dramatic and breathtaking, yet it is often the ordinary transformations that we see that can really change us.  I find that the most profound transformations I experience are when I allow myself to see not just the spectacular, but also the tragic and heart breaking.  Because when we allow our hearts to break just a little, we may find that the light of Christ breaks in--- in a magnificent and glorious way.

    

Possessed: January 28, 2018

Year B, Epiphany 4                                                     
Mark 1:21-29                                                 

 

            Recently my husband and I were talking about a yearly event that we attend.  It’s not my favorite event in the world, but it’s also not completely horrible, nor is it particularly memorable.  This year my husband reminded me of one almost 10 years ago.  “Do you remember how mad you were?  I had to take away your car keys.”  I looked at him like he was stark raving mad, because I had no memory of the incident he was referring to. He reminded me of what happened that made me so mad and it started coming back to me.  I remember being very annoyed, but I don’t remember being enraged.  I thought, “Why would that have made me so mad?  How stupid to be mad about something so trivial.”  In my defense, someone did something pretty rude and embarrassed me in a public setting and made me feel small and foolish.  I confess, the more I thought about the incident, the more I remembered the anger.  I could feel it 10 years later.  But to be so enraged my husband did not trust me to drive? That seems excessive.

            Anger is not necessarily a bad thing.  There are times when it is appropriate to be angry.  Jesus got angry, especially in the face on injustice and hypocrisy.  Anger becomes dangerous when it envelops you and clouds your very being…when it almost becomes part of who you are, your very essence.  We can say that about a lot of things. Fear, competition, confidence, success, desire… None of these things are bad…but they can take us over at times. They can possess us and change how we think and act.

            The Gospel of Mark does not start the same way that the other gospels do.  There is no dramatic story of Jesus’ birth like there is in Matthew and Luke.   There is no poetic prologue like there is in the Gospel of John.  The Gospel of Mark begins with John the Baptist and moves quickly to Jesus baptism, the temptation in the desert and the calling of his first disciples.  This is all in the first 20 verses of the first chapter.  Those first 20 verses are full of important events, events and people critical to the life of Jesus and to the Christian faith.  After reading those 20 verses, we would expect that the next event would be equally important.

            That brings us to today’s reading. Our story for today starts in a fairly typical fashion.  Jesus went to the synagogue and began to teach.  Everyone was impressed with his teaching.  Then the unexpected.  A man possessed by demons approached Jesus…no it’s more like he confronted Jesus.  The demon recognized Jesus immediately.  Everyone else saw Jesus as a teacher, perhaps even a prophet.  But the demon identified Jesus as the Holy One of God. 

            Of course Jesus did what we would expect him to do.  He freed the man from the demon. He exorcised him.  This was Jesus’s first miracle in the Gospel of Mark.  Exorcism.  In the Gospel of John, Jesus turned water into wine as his first miracle.  In Matthew,  he cured lots of people who were sick.  In Mark, one of the first things he does in his public ministry is exorcise a demon.  Surely Jesus could have picked something different.  He could have healed a small child or a wounded animal…but why get involved with a demon?

            The Gospel writer must have thought this was important if he put it in the very first chapter.  Now I know we all get a little antsy when we start talking about demons and evil spirits.  I don’t know what to tell you about the existence of demons, but I do believe that there is very real evil in the world.  Mark knew this.  Jesus knew this.  Thus one of his fist acts was to confront that evil and free a person of that evil. It wasn’t some abstract thing…it was there right in front of him, possessing a human, a child of God. 

We don’t hear much about the man who was possessed.  We know he was a man possessed.  That is it.  Part of me wants to know more about this man, how it happened, how he made it into the synagogue, what happened next? But the other part of me knows that none of that really matters. What matters is that this man was a child of God, a child of God who was being suffocated by something evil, something that controlled him.  Thus Jesus’ first act was not merely exorcising a demon. He was giving someone their freedom back.  He was giving this person back his identity as a beloved child of God.  If we look at it that way, then it makes sense that this would be one of his first acts.

            In the Episcopal Church, we don’t talk about demons much, or being possessed.  Yet I believe that most of us know what it is to be shackled by something.  It might bad relationship or job. It might be an addiction or an emotion that has taken over.  It might be guilt or something from the past that continues to plague us.  It might be an illness or a pain that has made us feel less than whole.

It doesn’t have to be something that is bad in and of itself. It could be money and belongings.  They can possess us. We can be possessed by knowledge that makes us arrogant and closed minded.  We can be possessed by fears, fears that keep us from seeing others as beloved children of God. We can be possessed by anger, some of it righteous anger, some of it just plain foolish. 

            Jesus seeks to free us from those things.  Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being controlled by something like anger or jealousy. I don’t like it when fear keeps me from doing good things for other people.  Sometimes I wish that we could just stick with the demon language.  When my husband told me about that time I was enraged over something foolish, I could have said, well that was a demon. That would be so much easier. We know demons are bad.  In stories like today, they seem to be eliminated with expediency. It is not the same with these amorphous things and feelings that possess us. They are much harder to get rid of. Sometimes we do not even realize we are possessed. 

            One of the interesting things about the story of the exorcism is that we don’t know what happened to the demon.  What we know is that Jesus continued to exorcise people. It seemed that he never quite conquered evil; he freed people from whatever possessed them.  He healed one person at a time. But he never rid the world of all evil. He was only able to heal the people who came to him, who knew that they needed his saving grace. That is what Jesus continues to ask of all of us….that we come to him, that we admit that we need him.  We might have to keep coming back.  I am fairly certain we will.  Thankfully, Jesus doesn’t keep count—he’s just happy to see us.

God's word is not as rare as our silence: January 14, 2018

Year B, Epiphany 2                                                                

1 Samuel 3:1-20                                                                      

Every priest and deacon has to go through a thorough process of discernment before being ordained.  Before you can even go to seminary, there is a lengthy interview process, sometimes an internship and you have to show that you have the support of your parish priest, the vestry, and a separate committee in the church.  For 6 years I sat on the committee for the diocese that walks along people who are hoping to be ordained.  During those 6 years I heard a lot of stories of people who felt that they were called to the ministry.  Typically people’s stories were more nuanced than you might expect.  For most people, there was rarely one moment when clarity struck.  The call came over years, even decades.  There was no thunder and lightning.  No one ever started their story with, “God spoke to me and said, ‘You need to be a priest’.”  Sometimes the call would come through life events and often the encouraging words of others.

            It is strange because if you look at the stories in the Bible, of people who were called to various ministries (whether it was prophet, disciple, mother of God, etc)---it was usually more direct.  God spoke to people in dreams and visions.  For Moses, his physical appearance changed after he spoke to God.  It was that obvious. Paul was blinded and a voice came from heaven.  For Mary, an angel appeared and spoke to her.  It seems that in those days, God was a lot more direct.  Yet in this day and time, in the modern age, God is a lot more subtle in the way that he communicates.  There have been many times in my life, when I wished God would be less subtle, more like he was in the stories in the Bible. 

            One of the first verses from our Old Testament reading for today is, “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.”  This got my attention, because this is the Bible after all.  It’s God’s word. You don’ expect that the Bible would mention a time when God’s word was rare. Yet even then, in the time of the great prophets and kings, even then there were periods when God seemed less communicative than usual.  The Hebrew word translated to rare typically referred to things like jewelry, anything that was rare and limited in supply.  Other translations use the word precious.  God’s word was precious. 

            The other reason it seems a little odd that the word of God would be so rare in this story is the location.  The boy in this story (Samuel) is living in the temple, as a servant/apprentice of the high priest.  He was living in the temple.  The text says that he was sleeping in the room where the ark of God was housed.  The ark of God was the place where God was supposed to reside.  The ark was the closest thing to the embodiment of God.  It was the closest you could get.  Yet even there, feet away from the ark of God, the word of the Lord was rare.  It must have been a dark time indeed.  But as you know, just because something is rare and precious, does not mean that it is impossible to attain. 

            This story of Samuel and the voice of God is fairly well known. Typically when we talk about it, we think of Samuel’s refrain, “Here I am.”  Even the popular hymn you just heard repeats this refrain, “Here I am.”  As a result, I have always imagined that this is the way we respond to the voice of God, with assurance, confidence, with a loud, “Here I am. It’s me. I’m who you are talking to.”  Yet what is interesting is that was how Samuel responded when he thought it was Eli calling him. 

Remember that the word of God was rare.  Samuel didn’t know what it sounded like.  In our text, there is an exclamation point after his name.  Samuel! Samuel! But we don’t really know what the voice of the Lord sounded like.  It probably didn’t sound like James Earl Jones.  It was probably quiet, more like a murmur than a voice from heaven. Therefore, it was not that odd that he assumed it was the elderly priest Eli.  Samuel responded as any good servant, by jumping to his feet and proclaiming, “Here I am.”  Even after 3 times of hearing this, he still jumped to his feet and ran to Eli.  Who knows, he might have done that all night had Eli not figured things out and given him some advice. 

            Now had I been in Eli’s position, I would gave jumped up as well and tried to get some more details from Samuel before formulating a plan where I would have joined Eli as we chatted and waited for the next call from God.  But Eli was wise and probably a little tired as well. He told Samuel to lie down and wait. The next time God called, Eli instructed him to say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” Samuel did exactly that.  He did not bounce out of bed and say, “Here I am!”  Instead he asked God to speak and made sure that God knew that he was listening. 

Because of that, God spoke and shared something that would change Samuel’s life, Eli’s life and shape the fate of Israel. I have always assumed that God was waiting for Samuel to realize that it was God talking before sharing his wisdom.  But I think God was waiting for some evidence, some confirmation that Samuel was ready to listen. He wasn’t just the eager pupil bouncing up and down in his seat desperate to be called on so he could speak…he was the servant ready to listen. 

It is hard to know whether the word of God is rare now, or if it is just listening that is rare.  It’s hard to listen.  If this story of Samuel and Eli happened today, Samuel would have had ear buds in with music blaring.  Or he would have been playing a video game or chatting online with someone. Eli would have been sound asleep with his white noise machine or maybe the TV on.  It’s hard to listen because there is so much noise.  It’s not just that the word of God is rare today.  Silence is rare.  It is so rare that it is precious. 

Because it is precious, it is that much more important that we seek it, that we strive for moments of silence, moments when we can not only step away from the constant noise that surrounds us, but even the chatter inside our heads.  God doesn’t usually speak to us with exclamation points.  He doesn’t even use emoji.  But I promise you that his word isn’t as rare as our ability to listen. 

One of the things that helped Samuel was Eli, someone who was there with him and was able to point Samuel in the right direction.  That is what the faith community is for. Church is the place you come to hear God’s word.  You may not hear it in the readings, or the music, or the sermon. But this is the place where we intentionally make space for God’s word.  That hour of worship might not be enough which is why we have different groups, Bible study, the men’s group, the adult forum, St. Anne’s guild, the young adult group…places where you can go to be with other people who are trying to listen for the voice of God.  You can also come to Mark or me and we will listen to you and with you.  Because whether you know it or not, God is speaking to you.  God is desperate to talk to you.  Not only are God’s words precious, you are precious in God’s eyes…which is why he never gives up.  He never stops trying to reach you…no matter who you are or where you are from. You are precious.