For the Good of the Whole: Sept 13, 2020

Year A, Pentecost 15                                                            Romans 14:1-12                                                                                    

           If you had asked me one year ago, if I would ever use this tacky gadget to distribute communion, I would have told you, “Absolutely not.”  If you would have told me a year ago that we would go 7 months without receiving communion, I would have declared you to be slightly insane and definitely not Episcopalian.  If I knew there would be no congregational singing, I would have started predicting the apocalypse.  Every business, family, group, school, has seen such changes in the last 7 months—changes they never imagined they would have had to make.  When you compare the changes the church has made to the rest of the world, they don’t seem very radical.  But all of us here know that the church has never had an easy time with change. While all of this change has been unsettling to say the least, the experience has also helped us determine what is truly important in the church, in our faith and in our lives.

            The church has not always succeeded in seeing the bigger picture.  Like humans everywhere, we get bogged down by the details. Since Jesus’ ascension into heaven, the church has been led by humans…well meaning humans, but imperfect.  We are also different from one another. God created us to be so.  It makes life beautiful and interesting; it also makes it a challenge to live in community. It comforts me to know that even Paul and the earliest Christians struggled with coming to terms with their differences and how to manage in a new community, based not on ethnicity or social class, but belief in Jesus Christ.

            Much like the Christian Church today, the church in Rome was a mishmash of people.  There were the Jewish converts who were holding onto to the traditions of the Jewish faith. There were the pagan converts who were trying hard to let go of their old ways.  There were people like Paul, who had grown up Jewish, but were ready to follow the new covenant that Jesus had established. These people were not as worried about following all the rules they once followed.  They had found a new way to be, a new way to worship.  All of these people from different backgrounds and faiths were trying to live and worship in one community that had little structure and no tradition to fall back on in times of uncertainty. 

            In his letter to the Romans, Paul speaks of the weak and the strong.  As a vegetarian, I have to admit, I don’t appreciate Paul’s comment on the weak eating only vegetables.  However, he wasn’t talking about vegetarianism. The reason these people were eating only vegetables was because they were worried about how the animals were slaughtered.  The people who were pagan converts did not feel comfortable eating an animal that might have been sacrificed in a pagan ceremony.  On the other side, the Jewish converts were concerned about keeping the dietary laws of the Torah.  Just because they believed in Jesus now did not mean they were willing to throw out all the laws that were given by God to the Hebrew people.

 Both of these groups had religious reason for avoiding meat. The reason these vegetable eaters were being labeled “weak” was because they were unwilling to move away from these old rules.  They were worried about the letter of the law, but not the purpose.  It is easier to obsess about superficial things, like what we eat and drink, then who we love, and how we show that love.  What was interesting is that while Paul associated with the strong, he told those who were strong to make compromises (like avoiding meat) so that the faith of the weak would not be shaken.  For him, it was worth making small sacrifices for the sake of the other.

            For a very long time in the church, we have been arguing about things that some might consider are on the periphery of our faith.  Easy examples would be things like the color carpet we are  using or whether we demand that ushers wear a coat and tie, or whether we kneel or stand at certain times of the service, or even if we have communion wine in the midst of a pandemic. I think we can agree that those things are not critical to the faith.  But the problem is that we cannot always agree on what is and is not critical to the faith.  Something I might consider periphery, you might consider incredibly important.  If you read Paul’s letters, you will see the areas that he considers critical to the faith.  There are also some things (like what we eat and drink) that Paul determines are not critical to the faith.  One thing that is consistent for Paul is the importance of caring for the community and for our neighbors.  Paul’s concern is not for the self, but for the other. 

            Over the course of this pandemic, many of us have realized how important community is.  We have realized it because we have missed it and yearned for it.  We have also yearned for the sacraments in the context of the community. The one thing we have never lost during this pandemic is Holy Scripture.  This experience has given me a greater appreciation for scripture, but it has also reminded me of how hard it is to apply scripture to our daily life.  How do we use it to consider present day issues? In many ways, that was what Paul was struggling with, how to apply the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament) to disagreements in the new Christian community. 

            A year or so ago we used a book in Christian formation called “Making sense of the Bible.” The author used a really helpful analogy in how we determine what is and what isn’t critical to our faith. He said that the Great Commandment (which is “You shall love the Lord you God with all your heart, soul and mind and love your neighbor as yourself.”) is like a colander. You put all the other verses of the Bible through that colander.  If the verses aren’t consistent with Jesus’ Great Commandment, then they drain through.  What remains is what is critical to our faith.[1] For example, verses about slaves being obedient to their master would filter through.  Verses about parents beating their children would filter through. Verses about women covering their heads in worship would filter through.  It doesn’t mean we erase these verses from the Bible.  It just means we don’t use them to defend our actions, because they are not consistent with the Great Commandment.

            This analogy made a lot of sense to me and it is also consistent with what Paul said in his letter to the Romans. I am sure we could still find things we disagree about in terms of what does and doesn’t filter through the colander, but it provides a helpful baseline, unless we are talking about carpets, in which case we can just be grateful we don’t have a carpet in the church.  One thing I think we can all agree on is what Paul says about the danger of judging one another: “Who are you to pass judgment on servants of another? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall.  And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand.” We will disagree at times.  Sometimes we will have to make compromises that seem anathema to us.  The way we stay together through whatever may come is to try desperately not to judge one another.  Remember that in the end, we all fall short of the glory of God, it is only God’s grace that allows us to stand. 

 

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[1] Hamilton, Adam. Making Sense of the Bible. Page 176.

Genuine Love: August 30, 2020

Year A, Pentecost 13                                                     Romans 12:9-21      

              When I was in 10^th grade, I decided to take on a new discipline for Lent. My plan was to go out of my way to show kindness to someone who I felt had wronged me.  This started as a genuine attempt to follow Jesus’ and Paul’s words regarding love for our enemy.  But here is where I went wrong, I told a number of people what I was doing.  So everyone knew that the person who I made cookies for was someone who had really ticked me off.  And it went as far as to make the recipient of my kindness a little paranoid.  I will be honest with you, at the time, it was extraordinarily gratifying.  I was doing the Christian thing while also delivering a clear rebuke to my enemy.  In the back of my head, I had some doubts that what I was doing was the Christian thing because I was pretty sure (even at the age of 15) that loving my enemy wasn’t supposed to feel this good.  That knowledge did not change my actions.  Now, I know I was doing exactly the opposite of what the apostle Paul was telling people.  He wrote, “Let love be genuine…”  There was nothing genuine about that display of love.

            But in my defense…what makes love genuine anyways? I mean, that can be hard to decipher. Well, not really…not if you actually read the rest of this chapter from Romans.  There is lot of explanation in these 11 verses.  I could preach a sermon for every verse, but I am only going to reference the ones that help define genuine love.  “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are.”  Those first few exhortations seem like they should be easy.  Rejoice with those who rejoice.  That’s easy if it’s a birthday or an anniversary.  But what if someone is rejoicing over a new job, a job that you wanted…or a promotion, a promotion you will never receive. Or…the election of a candidate you don’t support. The same year (in 10^th grade) when I had that Lenten practice, I wore black for a week when the candidate I supported didn’t win. I was that mad and I wanted everyone to know it.  Therefore, I am well aware of how hard it can be to rejoice when you don’t feel like rejoicing.

            That brings me to the next part of genuine love—humility.  “Do not claim to be wiser than you are.”  Have you ever noticed that the truly wise people are those with the most humility, the people most willing to admit that they’ve been wrong a lot and probably will be wrong more in the future? They are not the overly confident know it alls.  They are the people willing to listen.  And man is that hard in an election year when so many of us know exactly how right we are, and how clearly wrong the opposition is.  If we can love people, even when we disagree with them fiercely, then we know we have found genuine love.  And I don’t mean the kind of love where we say, “I love them but I can’t stand to be in their presence right now.”  Nope.  I am pretty sure that doesn’t count. 

            Now, it’s ok if you aren’t there right now.  Paul never said this was easy. You might need to take baby steps toward that genuine love. You might even have to say, I might not get there in this election cycle.  But there is a clear beginning in the path toward humility---that is to admit that we don’t know as much as God.  Start there. It seems obvious, but I think we forget that a lot. 

            “Do not repay evil with evil.”  This is tricky, because so far we have been talking about how to genuinely love people who we already love or have some affection for.  But this is Paul assuming that we are not just talking about people we already have a good relationship with, but people who we don’t even like...people who may not necessarily be evil, but do evil things.  Paul is saying that if our love for God is genuine, then we won’t respond to evil with more evil.     That almost seems like we are being asked too much---few people can be that selfless.  Yet a few verses later, Paul returns to this idea. He closes with, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”  When we respond to evil with more evil, we are not merely hurting the other person, we are hurting ourselves. Someone once said that “Resentment is like swallowing poison and waiting for the other person to die.”  We could say the same of repaying evil with more evil.   If we are repaying evil, it means that we are carrying it around in our soul, and that is a dangerous place for evil to reside. 

            There is a specific line in this reading that is rather confusing.  Paul writes, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.”  When I first read this, I thought this was Paul’s humanity coming out a little---that he was saying, “If you show goodness, don’t worry, your enemies will get what is coming to them.”  But that interpretation probably said more about me than Paul.  One commentator suggested that a better interpretation is that genuine love and action has the potential to bring about repentance in your enemy.  Repentance is often associated with the refiner’s fire.  It is not a fire that burns to punish.  It burns to purify.   Good deeds, genuine love---can burn away the heat of the enemy.[1]         

     

       Let us love our enemies not because they deserve to be loved, not because they have earned our love, but because God has taught us that this is the only way to overcome evil.  It is the only way to defeat the darkness that surrounds us.  It is the only way to heal the fissures in our hearts and souls.  It is not merely about treating others better, but it is the path to redeeming ourselves.  Genuine love isn’t only about how we love others, it’s how we love ourselves and more importantly, how we love God. 

            Paul was particularly sensitive to the need to love the enemy, love those who persecute you, because he had been a persecutor of Christians. He had been the enemy.  Then God showed him love and Christians gave him the chance that he didn’t deserve.  He was redeemed as a result of that love.  While I don’t think any of us persecuted Christians like Paul did, most of us have embodied the enemy at one point in our lives.  But the amazing thing about our faith and God’s love for us is that we never stay the enemy for long.  Redemption is as close to us as the words in our mouth are to our heart.  Let love be genuine, because that that is the love that will not merely hold the darkness at bay, it will defeat the darkness. 

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[1] Achtemeier, Paul. Interpretation Commentary on Romans, page 201.

Photo by Mel Elías on Unsplash

Happily Ever After: 1 Kings 3:5-12

Year A, Pentecost 8                                               July 26, 2020

 Early in the quarantine, we purchased Disney Plus.  Every Friday night is movie night and Joshua gets to pick out the movie.  Early on, he got obsessed with Peter Pan and we watched every iteration of Peter Pan you can imagine. I finally got him to watch Aladdin recently.  If you haven’t seen it, Aladdin is a poor young man who falls in love with a princess, but can’t marry her because he isn’t a prince.  Then he finds this lamp with a genie and gets to make a wish…any wish. He of course wishes to be a prince so that he can marry the princess.  Of course, that is not the end of the story, but you get the idea. 

 There is no genie in any of our readings for today, but God poses a genie like question to King Solomon in our Old Testament reading.  God comes to King Solomon in a dream and says, “Ask what I should give you.” It sounds too good to be true.  It must be a trick question.  God doesn’t usually give people this option.  It’s usually him deciding what we need or us asking for something and waiting for an answer.

            King Solomon doesn’t seem surprised by the question, maybe because it was a dream. Whenever a weird thing happens in a dream, it always seems totally logical.  Solomon started by praising God for his love and the way he treated his father, King David.  He praised God for keeping his promise to David and allowing Solomon, his son, to take the throne.  Then Solomon admitted that he was inexperienced and didn’t know very much—but he was given this big and important job.  It’s a nice little speech, especially for a dream. It almost sounds like he is buttering God up, preparing for a really big and outlandish request.  But then he comes out with this, “Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil; for who can govern this your great people?”  It’s not just wise, it’s also an extraordinary display of humility.

When most people tell the story of King Solomon and this request, they say that he asked for wisdom.  However a better translation of the Hebrew is “a listening heart.” He asked for a listening heart. He could have asked for anything: long life, a strong nation, vanquishing enemies, wealth…..  But no, he wanted a listening heart, so he could govern God’s people and know the difference between good and evil.  That is amazing, especially given the fact that he was probably 15 or 20 years old at the time.  How many of you would ask for a listening heart?  You get one request (not 3 like you would a genie).  Would you ask for that? I don’t think I would…maybe if I had just preached on this text, but otherwise, probably not.

Yet when I think about it, that would be really helpful. Having an understanding mind or a listening heart means that you are open to God’s divine direction.  There have been so many times in my life when if I just listened to God the first time, things would have gone so much more smoothly.  And if I had this wisdom, I would never be indecisive.  Every decision would be clear…at least that is the Disney version of wisdom.  I think in reality, it’s probably a little more complicated.

            We get a little more elaboration on this request when God reflects the question back to Solomon.  He is of course delighted that Solomon didn’t ask for success or wealth.  God responded, “but you have asked for yourself understanding to discern what is right…” That is actually slightly different than what Solomon asked for.  If you go back to the Hebrew, you will find that the word God used---is justice.  God said, “You have asked to hear justice.”   I wonder if Solomon got a little more than he bargained for.  Wisdom is one thing.  Hearing justice, acting justly, is quite another.  It’s one thing to be a person who can dispense wisdom.  It is quite another to be a person who can hear the cries of the oppressed, hear the cries of the people who are being denied justice and then act on their behalf.  That is what God wanted of King Solomon; that is what he wanted of every ruler.  Think about it, if you could just pick one description of your perfect leader---what would be better than someone who hears justice, God’s justice?

            That was God’s gift to Solomon.  Solomon didn’t earn this from years doing the job.  It was a gift. Most of us do not have a direct line to God’s justice, although I think there are some who think they do.  But honestly, I am not sure any of us really wants that, because that would be a hard life. God’s justice is rarely the popular option.  It is not determined by public opinion polls.  Even King Solomon, who was given this amazing gift, ended up chasing false idols.  Even he failed to live up to God’s view of justice. 

Maybe until we are strong enough to be the hearers and carriers of God’s justice, perhaps we can go with that first request that King Solomon made, having a listening heart.  That means that we truly listen to God, which isn’t east.  Sometimes it is hard to determine if it’s God talking, or me just talking to myself. One way I have discerned God’s voice from my own is that if it’s easy, it’s probably me talking.  A good step toward a listening heart, is to listen to one another---specifically to those who disagree with you, or who you disagree with. 

Thankfully, there is no shortage of topics out there that people are disagreeing about right now.  Masks, schools opening, the protests, the upcoming elections, confederate monuments and memorials…just to name a few.  Or if you are not ready to wade into that rather choppy water, watch a different news station than normal.  If you usually watch Fox News, watch CNN---for a whole week! If you are devoted to the New York Times, read the National Review….for a whole week!  It sounds like a small thing, but it’s a start.   When God created us, he didn’t use a mold.  God’s intention was never for us to think exactly alike.  It seems to me, that the more children of God we listen to, the better we can listen to God, the better we can hear God’s justice.

I have enjoyed watching most of the Disney movies. It’s been a good escape and I think we have all needed a little escapism lately.  Yet I often find myself dreading the time when Joshua learns that the world is nothing like Disney.  It’s not always Happily Ever After.  Yet as Paul reminds us, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”  That is one thing we have in common at St. John’s.  We all love God.  We want to work for his purpose.  So let’s listen to one another---because that will enable us to do the work God wants us to do.  There is a happily ever.  It’s not Disney.  It’s what Paul tells us, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers…. nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

 

Living in the Spirit: Romans 8:1-11

Year A, Pentecost 6                                           

Romans 8:1-1                                                                                                             

            There has probably never been a time when people have not attempted to shame one another.  But in the age where almost every cell phone has the capability to take pictures and video, I fear that our shame culture has gotten a little out of control.  To be honest, I am conflicted.  There are many times when posting a video of an incident can get a lot of attention and hold people accountable who wouldn’t otherwise be held accountable.  A good example of this is the murder of George Floyd.  However lately, it seems that people are posting every horrible thing that people say and virtually demanding shame.  While some of the things I have seen and heard have been truly horrible, the reactions have been equally if not more horrible.  It is not unusual for these people who are called out on the internet to get death threats, to lose their job, to be kicked out of their home.  Many of these people are condemned before they can defend themselves. 

And what does that accomplish?  Do we think that people will have a change of heart once publicly shamed?  Many of these people apologize, but those apologies are perceived as insincere, which they probably are.  Because shame doesn’t typically lead to a change of heart. Sometimes it leads to a change in action, but rarely a change of heart.  The problem with this shame culture is people who are well intentioned are wary of saying anything that might be criticized.  That also makes it difficult for people to have honest conversations, which is what we need if we really want to change hearts.

Photo by Zulmaury Saavedra

            When Paul said, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” he wasn’t just talking about social shaming. He was talking about something much deeper.  He was talking about being condemned by sin—which means you are punished for your sin.  Your sin, your guilt never leaves you.   When Paul says, “There is no condemnation…” ---it doesn’t mean that you are incapable of sin, or even guilt.  It means that you are free from the punishment that comes as a result of that sin. 

For a long time, God’s people believed that the only remedy for sin was the law of the Hebrew Scriptures. The law didn’t prevent sin, it controlled it.   While that was effective in some ways, according to Paul, it never freed people from the bondage of sin.  It was Jesus’ life, death and resurrection that provided that freedom.  “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”  He goes on to say, “For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death.”  There is a new law and it isn’t really a law, it’s the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus.

            Paul believed that there were two realities, two worlds to which humanity can belong.  There was what he called “the flesh.”  In this passage flesh didn’t refer to the body.  It referred to the world of sin and death.  Then there is the Spirit, that is the world of life, life in Christ.[1] Now, it seems like an easy choice. Why would anyone choose sin and death when you can have life with Christ?  Why?  Because if we were living in Christ, then we could not shame people on the internet. We would not be able to buy loads and loads of toilet paper without considering others who might need it.  We would not be able to see injustice without acting.  Freedom in Christ doesn’t just mean freedom from sin and death.  It means freedom from self-interest, self-loathing and smug judgment of others.  Sometimes it seems easier just to be shackled to sin.

            Imagine for a moment what it would be like to live without fear of condemnation.  It doesn’t mean that you don’t sin.  It means that when you sin, you repent and you move on.  Now that still means you have to confess the sin and repent, but then you move on.  Nothing that you have done or said keeps you up at night.  Nothing that someone else does or says keeps you up at night because you are free from human condemnation.  You live in Christ Jesus.  While that might not be an easy place to live, it’s a place where you never doubt your worthiness.  You never doubt that you are loved.  And when it comes right down to it, isn’t that what we all need the most, to know we are loved and to know we are worthy of that love? 

            Often, the reason people shame others…the reason we find ourselves gawking at that shameful behavior is because it makes us feel better about ourselves.  I mean, hey I have said some stupid things, but I never said that.  Yet if we know that we are worthy and that we are loved—that unlike the internet where every wrong doing is cataloged and remains forever—that our sins are forgiven---then maybe we would not have to judge and shame others.

            If you look at the front of our service leaflet, you will see that our mission statement is to live in the Spirit of Christ.  I have often looked at that and tried to discern what that actually means for the people of St. John’s.  Paul would tell us that it means that sin is no longer our master, we live without fear of condemnation.  Our unofficial motto at St. John’s is “Fighten sin since 1610.”   Someone told me that they had shared that with an acquaintance and the response was, “Well you’re not doing a very good job.” The person was not attacking St. John’s, just pointing out that sin is still prevalent in our world.  And let’s face it, Christians have not done a great job fighting sin.  Christians used the Bible to support the crusades, the inquisition, the slave trade, Nazi Germany…just to name a few.  Not only have we not always fought sin, we have been the sinners.   

While I like the way, “Fighten sin” sounds, I think we have to admit it’s a losing battle.  However, that doesn’t mean we are defeated, not if we live in the Spirit of Christ.  If we live in the Spirit of Christ, even when we sin, we are still free.  We are not condemned by our sin or the sins of those who went before us.  We are not condemned by the fact that we have not effectively fought sin.  As Christians, I am not sure our job is to fight sin as much it is to resist it and then forgive it.  Jesus already fought sin and won.  Now it is our job to live in the Spirit of Christ.  That doesn’t mean we deny the sin that we as Christians have committed, but it also means we are not defined by it.  While I will still proudly wear my fighten sin baseball hat on my head, in my heart, I will be living in the Spirit of Christ---where there is no condemnation. There is love, truth, and forgiveness.

           

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[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4499

As you are: June 28, 2020

Year A, Pentecost 4                                                           

Matthew 10:40-42                                                               

            There is no church that doesn’t want to be welcoming, at least not any church that I know. So when we locked the doors of St. John’s and put a sign up that we were closed, it felt like a very dark day for me.  I knew it was what we had to do, what the law and the bishop said we must do, but it felt contrary to everything I had ever been taught, or tried to teach others.  However, we found new ways to be church.  We stopped inviting people in and started going into people’s homes with our online services and zoom coffee hours.  Instead of inviting people into the church to have lunch, our outreach team takes bag lunches to others.  We, like many organizations were forced to leave our comfort zones and our safe places.

            Chapter 10 of Matthew encompasses Jesus’ instruction to the 12 apostles.  It begins by telling them what to do if they are not welcomed when they are bringing the Gospel to others.  The instruction contains one of the more well known instructions in the Bible, “If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town.” Or as Taylor Swift famously sang, “Shake it off.”  Matthew goes on to warn about persecution and even the need to separate from families.  This life of the apostle wasn’t going to be an easy one.  One thing that is consistent through the instructions to the disciples is that Jesus was sending people out.  He wasn’t talking about bringing people into the church or the community, he was sending disciples into the world, which leads me to believe that Jesus would approve of the way we have been doing church lately. 

            In our reading for today, Jesus’ instructions shifts a little.  Before, he was warning about the possibility of the disciples not being welcomed.  Today, he talks about the rewards of welcoming a disciple of Christ.  Because whoever welcomes  a disciple of Christ, welcomes Jesus.  That is something that we have probably all heard.  We understand that Jesus calls us to treat the least of these as we would treat him.  But this text feels a little murkier to me.  “Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet….whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person….”  What does it mean to welcome a prophet in the name of a prophet? I don’t know how to welcome a prophet. I am not sure even how to welcome a righteous person.  Would we welcome them some other way than an unrighteous person? Aren’t we supposed to welcome everyone, regardless of who they are? That is what the Episcopal Church sign says, “The Episcopal Church welcomes you.”

            The phrase “In the name of” is a Jewish expression meaning “because one is” [1]  Now this could mean a few things.  It could mean that the welcome was to be extended because the person being welcomed was a prophet or a righteous person. But another interpretation could be more literal, that a person is not to be merely welcomed in the generic “we welcome everyone” way.  It is beyond that.  Instead, what Jesus is asking is that we welcome each person exactly as they are, not in the way the world may see them, but as their authentic self.[2] We don’t welcome people for who we want them to be, but because of who they truly are.  The goal is to reflect the Kingdom of God where we are welcomed exactly as we are. We are respected and appreciated as individuals. 

So often when we welcome people, that welcome comes with a certain degree of expectations. In the Episcopal Church, that means they sit when we sit and kneel when we kneel.  We are polite and always know that when the priest says, “The Lord be with you”, the response is, “And also with you.”  Obviously the Episcopal Church is not the only place that puts expectations on people.  Almost every community has some norms, even the small communities of our families.  But we cannot let the norms supersede the welcome.

Recently I was talking to some people from our church about how awkward masks are, especially when you can’t always recognize people who you really should recognize.  When we come back to church, we are going to be wearing masks.  We are all going to look a little different, feel a little different.  It will be the same space, but we might not feel the same exact comfort as we once did. We can mourn that (and that is ok) but I wonder if this in an opportunity to welcome one another in a totally new way---let go of previous expectations about how to dress and act.  Instead of knowing someone by their face, we listen to their stories.  We let go of our more superficial expectations and instead bask in the presence of another one of God’s children.

That is one thing this pandemic has taught us, how precious each one of us is, not only in God’s eyes, but in the eyes of one another. We are not precious in spite of our differences, but because of our differences.  I hope that we can consider that the next time we see someone or talk to someone.  How can we welcome that person exactly as they are?  It sounds so simple, but it’s not.  Consider how often you are with someone and think, well if only they could do this differently, or think differently, then they would be so much easier to get along with.  The last line of our opening prayer for the day (what we call the collect) is, “Grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their teaching, that we may be made a holy temple acceptable to you; through Jesus Christ…”  We worry so much about how to be acceptable to other people or how to make other people more acceptable to us…but really we just have to be acceptable to God.  Each one us is born to be God’s temple. No mask or amount of hand sanitizer can change that.

                                           

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[1] Boring, M. Eugene, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. VIII (Nashville: Abingdon, 1995)  p 263

[2] https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1273

My Bias--My Son: June 7, 2020

Year A, Trinity Sunday                                                                     

Genesis 1:1-2:4                                                                                   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fishing without bait: May 24, 2020

Year A, Easter 7                                                                     

1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11                                                                                   

"Fishing troubles"

            One of the things we tried with Joshua early on in the quarantine was fishing.   Neither my husband nor I fish so we had no intention of actually using bait and there was no way we were giving him something with a sharp hook at the end.   But still, I thought that casting might be fun for him.  And it was for awhile.  He liked to try to get it as far as possible.  When we were in the backyard, his goal was the roof of the garage.  He also seemed to find particular joy when he could get it tangled in a tree.  When we went to the beach, he had fun, but became frustrated that he did not catch anything.  While I do not fish, I knew that the reason he was not catching anything was that there was no hook and no bait.  But even if he had a hook, I was pretty sure he would not catch anything because he didn’t leave the line in the water for long. He would cast the line and then immediately bring it back in. While his technique was certainly flawed, I admired his positive attitude and hope.  He thought if he could just get it as far as possible, something good would return. 

            I found myself drawn to this reading from 1^st Peter for a few reasons, but primarily because of this line, “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.”   This is a verse that would appeal to me at any time as I tend to be a worrier, but especially at this time in our country and world when anxiety seems to be ubiquitous---it’s even more appropriate.  The word “cast” caught my attention, perhaps because of my extensive fishing experience over the last 10 weeks.  It is not unusual to see fishing language in the Bible.  It was a metaphor often used by Jesus and presumably his disciples as well.  The Greek word translated to “cast” could also be translated to throw.  Throw your anxiety on God. Cast sounds more eloquent, but I think either works.  Because when we are desperately anxious, often we cast our anxieties like my son does his fishing line---we just try to get them as far away as possible. 

            Even when we are intending to do as the text tells us and cast our anxiety on God, it’s as though we kind of throw it at him and then expect something miraculous in return.  That is what fishing is.  You cast something out and expect something different when you bring the line back.  But real fishermen have patience and discipline. They don’t expect to get something immediately.

            Thus when the author of Peter instructs us to cast our anxieties, he also gives some advice.  First before you even cast, you humble yourself before God.  Then you discipline yourself.  Then you resist.  Peter is talking about resisting the devil, but I think we can apply this idea of resistance to all kinds of things. 

            Humility. Discipline. Resistance.  If we are talking fishing, this would mean the opposite of what my son does.  We don’t throw out a plastic fish and anticipate a giant catch.  We don’t pull in the line immediately.  And we definitely don’t throw down the pole in disgust when we don’t get the results we want.  Now we know what not to do. Let’s talk about what we should do.

            I think it is safe to say that people in our world are praying more than usual right now. It is tempting to fixate on quick results, if not a vaccine, then at least a lightening of the burden that each one of us is feeling.  We tend to pray in specifics.  We tell God what we want as opposed to humbling ourselves and asking for God’s direction.  So let’s try to start with humility.  Let’s try to admit that maybe, we don’t know what is best.  Maybe our best interests are not the same as the best interests of all the people of this world.  Humble ourselves.

            The next step is discipline. The way we have been asked to handle the pandemic is a perfect example.  When it started, most of us were doing pretty good at following directions.  But then 2 weeks turned into 10 and the discipline and fortitude we started with---the idea that we are all in this together, has started to slip through our fingers.  And I get it. I am right there with you.  It was one thing when this was during Lent.  We are supposed to suffer in Lent. But Easter…and now it’s Memorial Day and we can’t go to the beach?!?  Discipline is so hard when it last longer than two weeks. 

And Jesus and Peter…they were talking about a lifetime of discipline in our prayer and our actions.  For Peter, the stakes could not have been higher.  “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.”  You might think that Peter was talking about persecution. He was, but not in the way that Christians were persecuted later.  At the time Peter wrote, the Christians were such a small group they were not a threat to the Romans.  They were more of an inconvenience.  They were not being thrown to the lions literally.  It was more of peer pressure and judgment.   People were trying to convince these new Christians to go back to their pagan ways.  It would make everyone’s life easier.  The threat wasn’t physical, but Peter acted like it was. That is how important, how critical it was for them to continue to practice and live as Christians.          

“Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering.”  Resistance is part of discipline.  It is resisting what is easy and convenient. Resisting the people who would tempt us away from the Christian path.  Peter reminds these new Christians that they are not the only ones suffering.  Their brothers and sisters all over the world were also suffering.  It is something that we have been reminded many times over the last few months.  We are all suffering.  We are all in this together.  But that is not quite true.  Some are suffering more than others.  So instead of resistance for the sake of the whole….many are resisting for the sake of themselves and their freedom.  What Peter knew and what most of the early Christians knew was that true freedom was found in suffering and sacrifice, not for the sake of oneself, but the sake of the larger community.

So yes, let us cast our anxieties on God, but let us be careful as we throw our anxieties off, that they not increase the anxiety of another.  We can do that if we act with humility and discipline.  Once we have done that, once we have been as faithful as our strength allows, let us cast those anxieties with the same hope and faith my son has when he fishes---that regardless of our skill or the bait we use, God can take whatever we give him and transform it into something miraculous.