Patience Builds Community

 

I admit that I am running out of patience with things happening in this world. I am upset by the disruption to lives and families and communities caused by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers. I am furious with the endless and pointless war in Iran. I don't like the way developers have been able to control policies at Tallahassee City Hall and the way that artists now have to choose their words carefully when seeking grant funding because anything considered "Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion" or D.E.I. is verboten in Florida. 

But patience really is the key to making real lasting change. Patience is what allows people to wrestle and negotiate the best path forward. 

And it is clear that even in the days of the early church, patience truly was a virtue.

See what you think.

Text: Philippians 4:1-9

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You know that saying, “Patience is a virtue”?

It’s one of those phrases that people like to drop on other people when they’re not being patient.

I’ve always thought I was patient.

Then we got our cat Romeo.

Romeo is a very good hunter…or at least he is good at catching tiny geckos and bringing them into the house.

When he plays…he’ll lie very still for several… way too long minutes…. before he finally pounces on the toy at the end of a string.

He feels triumphant as he wrestles with his play thing.

Often he wins those games….because I’ve already lost my patience waiting for him to do something!

The actual phrase…patience is a virtue… dates back to a 14^th century poem…but the idea has existed a lot longer than that.

It’s one of the major tenets found in both Eastern and Western religions.

And I think it is at the heart of many of our readings this morning.

We definitely hear it in the story of the Golden Calf. The Israelites lose patience waiting for Moses.

God starts to lose patience with a people who make other gods for themselves.

And Moses appeals to God to have more patience…which God listens to and relents.

Whew!

We can also hear it in Paul’s Letter to the Philippians….which could be like a letter to just about any faith community of today.

The Easter Season was more than a minute ago.

We heard the story of Pentecost with the Holy Spirit making a dramatic entrance into the Upper Room back in May.

We’re now at the 20^th Sunday since Pentecost.

As the weeks and months have worn on…and we’ve experienced sufferings…from the deeply personal to the existential.

In times such as this…it’s easy to lose our focus and go down rabbit holes that want to take us deep into the warren of despair.

And when we fall into that trap… that’s when we start losing patience.

We have disputes…people start working at cross purposes to one another…often out of a sense of urgency.

That was all true of the early Christian church as well.

We hear Paul telling this new church at Philippi…”Hey, Euodia and Syntyche…I need y’all to slow down…chill out…and quit fighting with each other.”

We don’t know what the problem was between these two women. 

But what we can gather from Paul’s words that whatever it was…it was causing stress within the church community.

Stress that wasn’t needed in a time and a place where the church was a minority in a still challenging environment of Roman empirical rule. 

And given that he named them…these were clearly two church women who were in the leadership ranks.

Both probably had their own ideas as to how things ought to be done in the church.

Both were good and faithful church members and wanted to serve.

And Paul…from his jail cell…is reminding them and all the church…including us… that the one mission that matters is the Gospel mission of Love:

To care for the poor…the sick…the hungry…and the oppressed…and those in prison…both the literal and the figurative.

And all of that requires working together…with patience and forbearance for each other’s quirks and attitudes.

And it can happen with joy…even in the middle of difficult circumstances and trying times.

Paul loved the church at Philippi and really wanted them to succeed.

Not for the sake of his ego…but for what the Christian church stood for: a place of building up those who were getting knocked down by the Roman Empire…and connecting them to the God of Love…Mercy…and Compassion.

Taking people who often felt harassed and tired….and giving them hope.

We can hear this in his opening sentence…when he talks about the Philippians being his “joy and my crown.”

The “crown” is a reference to the victory wreaths that were awarded to athletes and the winners in a contest.

These wreaths were made from real twigs and metal that was twisted together.

Think of the images of the Greek god Apollo…and other larger than life figures from ancient times…wearing them on their heads or holding them in their hands.

For Paul…the Philippians of the church…who…through the care they offered to him while he sat in prison…proved they were winners.

And their hard work was the outward and visible symbol of the victory that happens when Love goes into motion with all the members putting forth their best efforts.

When they are diligent… persistent and patient with themselves and each other…that’s when others see the light of Christ in them.

Not as an individual achievement of greatness…but as a team.

That’s what it means to be “in community.”

I remember the late Governor Lawton Chiles of Florida in his first state of the state address to the legislature talked about working toward Florida being a community and not a crowd.

The idea of a crowd represented people who were engaged in jockeying for position…bumping up against each other…and trying to push aside anyone they considered a rival for attention.

As long as they got what they thought was their share… members of the crowd didn’t care what happened to anyone else.

Community…on the other hand…evoked a sense of responsibility… not only for oneself but for others. 

Communities pulled together to make a difference that wasn’t just for a day…but hopefully for a lifetime…improving things for the current and future generations.

And making things easier…better…bigger and brighter…for more people…that’s truly a reason to rejoice.

Working together to make things happen is critical to building up joy in the church.

And we know that from our own efforts here at St. Barnabas.

When there’s a need to lay out pallets for the pumpkin patch…people show up in the middle of Wednesday to help.

When a member of the altar guild or a person scheduled to be a lector falls ill…someone steps in to take on that task.

When we hear of government cutbacks to food assistance programs…people pull from their pantries to put items in the basket out in our narthex…or contribute to entities in their towns and still others go to help feed the hungry on the streets of Valdosta.

Together…we do make a difference in the ways that we are able to do so.

That’s important in these times when going to the grocery store or watching the evening news makes us keenly aware that all is not right in society.

We have the chance… and indeed we’ve been invited and called… to be the people who show up and are ready to respond as good stewards of our church and our community.

As Paul says…”keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard” knowing that God is working through us in our efforts to make this world a place of health…healing…and hope with unconditional love.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

St. Anna Alexander: Persistent in Unfavorable Times

The patron saint of the Diocese of Georgia, Deaconness Anna Alexander, has a story worth hearing every year. And this year, we followed the advice to celebrate her Feast Day (Sept. 24th) on the following Sunday...the last Sunday of September. 

See what you think. And feel free to leave a comment. 

Text: 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5

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Today we’re marking the Feast Day of Anna Ellison Butler Alexander…the patron saint of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia.

Her actual saint day was this past Thursday…but diocesan churches are allowed…and strongly encouraged… to celebrate her feast on a Sunday morning.

The bulletin has a brief biography about her…and her legacy as the first and only black woman made a deaconess in the Episcopal Church.

But there’s so much more to the story of her life.

And given her experiences and the way she went about lifting up the people of Pennick…I think it’s only appropriate that those charged with the task of selecting the lectionary readings for her Feast Day…settled on this reading from the Second Letter to Timothy.

Because for the time that she served as a deaconess…Anna Alexander was “persistent whether the time was favorable or unfavorable” and definitely demonstrated the skill of being able to “convince, rebuke, and encourage with the utmost patience in teaching.”

Anyone who has ever taught knows you need equal parts of all those…and maybe even an extra dose of patience…when giving instruction to another.

It reminds me of a story I heard about my childhood next door neighbor.

Mister B…as we called him…was one of the music teachers at the junior high school and taught band.

And he was without question one of the coolest dudes on the junior high faculty.

He played the guitar, tenor sax and the clarinet…and he rode a motorcycle to and from the school.

He had an easy-going demeanor…but he also was demanding and not a pushover.

One day…one of the band students seemed troubled and just not himself at all.

Mister B knew this kid’s path home.

And so he found him…sulking as he walked past the Roman Catholic Church.

Mister B rode up alongside him.

He turned off the engine of his motorcycle…and pushed it along as the two of them talked about what was going on in this young man’s world.

Mister B listened to him…and then he reminded this kid of the other parts of his story that he’d skipped over.

That this child was a pretty good musician…and he would get better by coming to band class.

That level of concern…and encouragement…helped turn that kid’s world around.

He was in his seat at the next band class…and never missed another one for the rest of the year.

Teachers can have that sort of impact.

And Anna Alexander had that same drive and desire to build up her community of Pennick, Georgia.

She came from a large family…the youngest of eleven children.

Her parents had been slaves on the Butler Plantation on St. Simon’s Island and when they were freed…the family found land in nearby Pennick.

She and two of her sisters were the founders of St. Cyprian’s Episcopal Church in Darien…but it was while she attended a service at St. Athanasius in Brunswick that Anna had a vision of starting a mission church in Pennick.

With the encouragement of the priest and others at St. Athanasius….that dream became the reality of Church of the Good Shepherd in Pennick.

Anna left Georgia in 18-97… to attend St. Paul’s Normal and Industrial School which later became St. Paul’s College in Lawrenceville, Virginia.

St. Paul’s was a college founded by a black Episcopal priest named James Solomon Russell…specifically to train black teachers.

When she learned that The Church of the Good Shepherd mission was in trouble…Anna came home to Pennick…

Now ”equipped with every good work”….she began to revitalize the church and eventually…with help of one of her brothers and local men…they built the schoolhouse on the property with logs and clapboards. 

Watching all of this was the Episcopal Bishop of Georgia…C.K. Nelson.

He was impressed with her tenacity and determination…using her sewing skills to raise the money she needed to support her mission.

Nelson even made his own financial contribution to help her build living quarters in the schoolhouse.

He saw in Anna the calling of a deaconess…which at that time…was a lay order of church women who mostly worked in schools and hospitals.

Bishop Nelson conferred on her that new status of deaconess…making her the first…and only…black woman so recognized in The Episcopal Church in the 20^th century.

But nothing was easy for Anna Alexander.

Even though Bishop Nelson could see something special in her work…the larger diocese was another matter.

In 1907…the Diocese of Georgia…which had grown to be 108 missions and too large for one bishop…voted to split.

The northern and western parts of the state became the diocese of Atlanta…and the central and southern parts to the coast became the Diocese of Georgia.

Bishop Nelson moved to Atlanta.

And a new bishop…Fredrick Reese…was elected as the 4^th bishop of Georgia…at a time when Jim Crow laws were coming into play in the secular society….and would spill over into the church.

Black Episcopal congregations in Georgia were segregated into the Council of Colored Churchmen and excluded from the diocesan conventions until 19-47…the year that Anna Alexander died.

There was World War I.

And then the Great Depression of the 1930s.

And then World War II.

Not an easy time for anyone.

But…nevertheless…even in “unfavorable times”…Anna Alexander persisted…never once letting other people’s prejudices distract her from doing what she could for the people of Pennick…regardless of their race.

She and her impoverished congregation of Good Shepherd kept feeding the hungry…and caring for those in need…from the blind and the elderly to the orphans and young mothers.

Anaa’s connections that she made while in college helped her to find the financial resources beyond the diocese to keep the school going.

She even took a job cooking at the diocesan church camp in the summers…while having to create separate camping opportunities for black boys and girls.

And while tuition was a nickel a week to go to Good Shepherd school…Anna never turned anyone away.

The skills she had learned…first from her parents who instilled in her the value of an education…then her own desire to read and write….fueled her passion and her burning desire to see the children of Pennick succeed.

She had taught before in the Brunswick schools and had been disappointed with the public-school teaching materials.

She wanted something more for her students…a chance to meet the God of Love that she found in the Gospels.

So with textbooks in short supply…she had them pull out the Book of Common Prayer and the Bible…and used those to teach kids their ABCs.

Anna took the lines of Second Timothy seriously: the scriptures inspired by God are “useful for teaching…for reproof…for correction…and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient.”

And it worked.

Anna Alexander taught several generations of Pennick children from kindergarten through high school.

When they reached the age to go to college…she helped them apply to the historically black schools along the East Coast…including her alma mater…St. Paul’s. 

She drove them off to their college campuses…opening up a world to them that wouldn’t have been possible without her effort.

Anna’s students embarked on careers that took them beyond the coastal plain of Georgia.

And even though the diocese of Georgia had excluded her and other black members…Bishop Reese took the unusual step at the 1930 diocesan convention to highlight what Anna was accomplishing in Pennick.

He spoke of “the faith and courage and persistency of this good woman.” and added, “I think that it is proper and just that I should make this notice, because this woman is entitled to it, and because her example is a good and encouraging one to all of us.”

It remains a good example for all of us even today.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

History drawn from various resources on the Diocese of Georgia website, especially deaconessannaalexander.georgiaepiscopal.org, the YouTube video “A Life Beloved: Deaconess Alexander,” and Charles Wohler’s write up on satucket.lectionary.org.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let Our Lives Tell the Story

 

Well hello everyone!

I've been so busy that I haven't had time to stop and post my sermons. 

This one from Sunday, September 20th (aka Proper 20) was for an Instructed Eucharist Sunday. I had hoped that our church might have some folks who were visitors or at least that some of my members might invite a friend or two to this service. 

And while that didn't happen, it gave everyone a chance to learn a few things that they hadn't known or thought about before. 

Now it's your turn to see the thought process behind my sermon writing...or at least this sermon's evolution. 

Another note: the week in Valdosta was full of rage and tension as ICE came to town and agents were conducting traffic chases after members of the Latin population going to their jobs. There were protests on the streets where they were seen....and a large protest at the courthouse on Saturday.

So that was in my mind as well as I wrote this. Let me know what you think in the comments. 

Texts: Philippians 1:21-30; Matthew 20: 1-16

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So…now we arrive at the sermon.

And in the same way that we came up with the “Collect of the Day”….the typical sermon in an Episcopal Church consists of the thoughts and reflections that your preacher has had on the Scriptures shared during the worship.

Other traditions allow the preacher to go far afield from the texts we’ve read and heard.

But our particular branch of the Jesus Movement believes that its best to stick the Scriptures…and to use this time as a chance to not only reflect upon the Word of God…but to consider how that Word of God is still relevant and speaking to us now…and commenting on our lives as we are living them in the 21^st century.

Some preachers insist that a sermon must incorporate something from ALL the texts…the Old Testament…the psalm…the Epistle reading…and the Gospel.

Others say that we must preach only on the Gospel.

I prefer not to be so rigid.

So…today for example…what struck me in going through the lectionary readings assigned for this particular Sunday…was both our Gospel about the landowner and the laborers he hired to work in his vineyard…and a line from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians…which speaks not only to themes in the Gospel…but to life here in our context on a Sunday in September in Lowndes County.

Now…y’all are pretty accustomed to me and my tendency to want to tell you “the story behind the story” of our readings.

So let me start with the Gospel…and this parable Jesus is sharing.

First…this tale of the landowner and the laborers only appears in Matthew’s Gospel.

And it comes right after Jesus has the exchange with the rich young man who wants to know what else he needs to do to inherit eternal life…y’know…besides following the basics of the ten commandments.

And when Jesus tells him that perfection requires giving up all of his “things” and following in the path of Jesus…the young man goes away sulking.

And then Jesus says the part about how it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven.

The disciples get upset.

Peter notes that the disciples have given up everything to follow Jesus…and Jesus basically says, “Yes, you have…and because you have…you will be rewarded in many more ways because you’ve chosen the path to life…to the liberty and freedom found in God. Because those who keep clinging to other things will be last…and you…the ones who have unburdened yourselves to follow me… will be first”

All of that is the set up for this allegory he tells about this landowner and the workers.

And let’s just get it out there: it’s not fair!

I don’t know about you…but whenever I read this story in Matthew…that’s the immediate thought I have.

I know what it’s like to be in that first group and when I see the ones who haven’t had to do as much work get rewarded the same as me…I get frustrated and angry.

Our sense of fairness says that when we’re the ones who’ve put in more time and sweat equity …we should get something more than the one who just arrived on the job.

That’s how things work in our economy.

And in our minds…that’s the way things ought to be.

And what Jesus is saying is that in God’s economy….no one is better…more worthy… more special than anyone else.

All who come to work in the vineyard…whether they’ve been there all day…or just showed up…they’re all the same.

This applies to those in the faith.

Those who just stumbled into the church for the first time and found in Jesus “a brother like no other”…they are on equal footing with those who’ve made a regular practice of church attendance for their whole lives.

The citizenship in God’s country is the same. And for God…all the citizens participating in the work in the vineyard are welcome.

God’s love is just that generous…and it’s on us to realize that God’s ways and thoughts…are bigger and more expansive than our own.

And we are still called on to do our best to try to love a little more…without feeling jealous that others…in God’s eyes…are also loveable.

Which gets me to Paul’s letter to the Philippians.

Some quick background on this passage.

We know Paul wrote this letter from jail…but we don’t know from which jail cell.
The man spent a lot of time in and out prison as he traveled…and planted churches.

But the gist of this particular letter is encouraging the members of the church at Philippi to stay focused…and not let their eyes look around at their opponents…or anyone else…and get pulled away from their true purpose.

We hear Paul say:

“…live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ…”

Here’s another translation of Paul’s statement.

This is from the Bible: The First Nations Version: An Indigenous Translation of the New Testament.

And I think this makes the point even plainer…
“Whatever happens, you should walk in a manner that brings honor to the good story about the Chosen One.”

Our mission…the big ask of us… is to live our lives in a way that honors and affirms what the Jesus of the Gospels stood for:

A mission to make this a world where everyone is treated with dignity and respect…whoever they are… whatever labels they’ve adopted or society has placed on them… and wherever they are on their faith journey.

And to be assured that all who are engaged in that work of Love have received their daily bread….just as promised.

What does that mean?

It means that when we see suffering…we respond.

We don’t close our eyes and cover our ears…or shut our mouths.

But we stand with those who are vulnerable…even when that costs us our status and causes us to suffer.

“Suffering” in this instance doesn’t mean we’re writhing in pain and agony. But it does mean we feel compassion…and that word compassion means “to suffer with” another person…and with God’s creatures.

And compassion comes in many forms and expressions.

It can be putting our bodies on a protest line…or speaking up to the powerful at governmental meetings.

Others live out their compassion by giving from their abundance to help those who need food…or clothing…or shelter.

Some do it by going to court. Much as lawyers get a bad rap…they’re doing good work when they help a person who is in trouble.

And some show it through getting a team of people together to pick up trash in a neighborhood.

However we do it…when we follow the model of Christ’s compassion in how we approach others…we are doing the work of the Gospel.

And it is all good.

So…that is how I have prayed through…and understood these readings.

I have done this work faithfully…consulting different scriptural texts for interpretation…and looking over commentary resources. And I hope that what I have said has reflected well upon our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

A lot of preachers tend to say “Amen” at the end of their sermons.

I do not.

That’s because the “Amen” at the end of a sermon really belongs to the congregation. It’s how you affirm that you have heard and received what has been said.

Something like saying, “Yes, me too!”

And so…if the church is so moved…let the church now say:

Amen!

 

To Tell the Truth

 

At some point, I will stop living my life out of a suitcase. I spent the first few days of September at the Full and Equal Conference celebrating 50 years of LGBTQIA+ inclusion in The Episcopal Church. 

Of course, anyone who has followed this blog for any period of time will know that the story of our inclusion has not necessarily been full, and in some parts, far from equal. Thankfully, the organizers emphasized repeatedly that "this conference is not a victory lap, but a next leg of the race." 

It also came right at the moment when the wider liturgical church community had some important verses assigned from the Gospel of Matthew that fit with the theme of truth-telling. Because I was on such a time crunch and did NOT want to drag my laptop with me to Minneapolis, I wrote my sermon ahead of time....with the full expectation that what happened would happen: namely, I needed to do some revision and rewrite very early Sunday morning.

Here's the result. See what you think.

Text: Matt 18:15-20

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There’s a prayer in our Prayer Book credited to the Fourth Century Bishop John Chrysostom.

It contains the line that “when two or three are gathered together” in Jesus’s name, Jesus “will be in the midst of them.”

And to that…we say Thanks be to God!

Because in my experience when two or three people get together in the church…there’s liable to be conflict.

Conflict is just part of human nature.

We come from different backgrounds…with our different histories…different ideas of how to solve problems…all informed by the way we live and move in the world.

So some level of conflict is inevitable…not just in the church but in life.

How we handle it…and keep it from unnecessarily going from zero to 60 … is the focus of what we just heard from Jesus.

Our Gospel lesson this morning is often labeled in Bibles as Jesus talking about “Church Discipline.”

Not the type of discipline that is like "getting whacked on the knuckles with a ruler" discipline.

But what we hear Jesus recommending… is a process that is grounded in mercy for both the person who was injured and offended AND the person who has committed the injury and offense.

It’s more like reconciliation…and repairing the gap that’s occurred in a relationship.

It’s also nothing new for the community Jesus was talking to back in the First Century.

I’ve said it before: we have to remember that the people in the Gospels…unless they are identified otherwise…are all Jewish.

And so the disciples in the story…and even those who were hearing the Matthew Gospel read to them back in the beginnings of the Christian movement… understood that Jesus was referencing the moral holiness codes of Leviticus and Deuteronomy…and putting them into practice.

They understood that it wasn’t healthy to harbor hatred and resentment toward someone who did them wrong…and that if the matter was serious…it was important to have more than the testimony of just one witness to what happened. Otherwise, it could lead to someone getting falsely accused.

To illustrate the importance of this point…in the verses right before today’s reading…Jesus talks about children…the most vulnerable and innocent among us.

Children…like widows… represent the powerless…the ones who depend upon the kindness of strangers…to protect them from exploitation and cruelty.

Then Jesus drives home this point with the story of the shepherd…who notices that one of his flock has gone missing.

The shepherd leaves the 99 on the mountain side to go find that one and bring them back into the fold.

It’s not that the other sheep don’t matter to the shepherd.

But what Jesus wants them…and us… to understand is that when it comes to living in community…all members…especially the least…the lowest…the lost…the overlooked…are important and must be included.

And it’s essential that when conflict arises…for a community to remain a thriving living…breathing… example of God’s loving kindness…God’s mercy… there is a way to go about addressing the issue…that protects everyone…and offers a means of making amends without causing more harshness and injury.

It's about restoration…reconciliation… …and giving grace for all voices to be heard.

It’s about telling the truth.

And that’s what makes this particular discipline challenging.

Because truth-telling takes honesty…and a willingness to listen to those who are the vulnerable…without making excuses or cutting off the dialogue.

I just got back last night from a conference in Minneapolis where the Episcopal Church did some truth-telling around the treatment of the LGBTQIA community.

While our church is now standing on the other shore from outright rejection of the queer community…it didn’t happen without conflict and a lot of hard work.

And it has taken us fifty years to live into the promise that was made in 19-76 to the LGBTQIA community...a promise issued by the whole church, that quote:

“...homosexual persons are children of God who have a full and equal claim with all other persons upon the love, acceptance, and pastoral concern and care of the Church.”

That simple sentence led to years of conflict…with steps forward…and many steps backward...and more lurches forward.

And…despite what some have tried to argue…it was all Gospel-based hard work.

Gospel-based hard work that grew out of the equally hard…Gospel-grounded work of the church accepting the idea that women could be ordained as priests in the church.

The same work that’s found in our baptismal covenant…when we talk about seeking and serving Christ in ALL persons…ALL persons.

Not just persons who are just like us.

And respecting the dignity of every human being.

That’s hard work….and it’s on-going work.

And I think this is some of what has been tripping us up in this country...our reluctance to do hard...truth-telling work.

Throughout our history…there have been many histories.

But too often the stories told by the least…the lowest…the overlooked…get pushed aside.

Sometimes…just our basic understanding of major events…the things we were taught in school.. depends on where you were growing up in the country.

I was shocked in my senior year of high school in New England when I learned from my sociology teacher…a native of South Carolina…that the war fought in this country between 1861-1865 was not “The Civil War” as I had been taught.

It was “the War Between the States” because…as she told us…South Carolina’s Education Department declared that there was “nothing ‘civil’ about it.”

I’m not going to argue that war is “civil”…but when we can’t agree that the reason the North and the South fought one of our most deadly battles was about slavery of black people…we’re not being honest.

If we can’t teach our children that the years following that war were marked by broken promises and more violence…we are only doing further injury… not just to the memory of those who were enslaved and their ancestors…

Not telling the truth also injures those of us who are white who are descended from the perpetrators and as well as those who witnessed the violence.

It traps all of us in a skewed version of history…where the truth is buried and the hurt is allowed to keep growing.

And it prevents us from reaching the desired outcome: restoration with the possibility of forgiveness.

This is the very thing Jesus’s instruction is getting to when he talks about treating the one who refuses to listen even to the church to as a “Gentile and a tax collector.”

He’s not saying to kick them out…but as professor Aaron Gale notes…these are the ones who need more instruction…more remediation.

They’re the toughest nuts to crack…but….like that lost sheep…we must keep looking for the way to bring them back…and accept that they have done wrong so that the breech can be repaired…and open the way for healing and even forgiveness.

Can you imagine if this were the way our justice system operated?

Actually…some have imagined it.

There was a woman I knew in Tallahassee…a retired nurse and social justice advocate named Agnes Furey.

Agnes had a daughter named Pat. 

Pat loved animals and gardening and helping people.

But she also had an addiction to alcohol.

For a time…Pat’s youngest child…Christopher…lived with Agnes while Pat was in rehab.

And it was in her addiction recovery program that she met a man named Leonard Scovens.

Agnes felt uneasy about this relationship…but Pat insisted to her mom that Leonard needed help.

Scovens murdered Pat and Agnes’s six year-old grandson.

And as you might imagine…that loss was devastating.

Agnes was rightfully angry and deeply wounded.

And after some time….she did the extraordinary: she wrote Leonard Scovens a letter in prison.

He wrote her back…a dismissive letter apparently…which infuriated Agnes.

So she wrote to him again.

And gradually…as they corresponded back and forth…Agnes learned more about the broken and dysfunctional childhood that had helped to create Leonard into an anti-social human capable of murdering her daughter and grandson.

And Leonard saw in Agnes a soft-spoken…kind-hearted…and tough as nails woman…who wasn’t going to let him off the hook…and that he had hurt her in a tragic and brutal way.

The story is not so much about Agnes forgiving Leonard…or Leonard having some great kum-by-yah moment with his victims’ mother.

But they found a type of peace in knowing each other more fully...in the space between them.

For Agnes…it freed her from the anger that was burning inside of her.

For Leonard…it freed him to feel what Love really looks like for the first time in his life.

And their letters and stories are in a book called, "Wildflowers in the Meridian."

This is what restorative justice looks like.

And this is the world that God imagines for all of us.

One in which we will do the hardest work of them all:

Telling the truth.

Loving our neighbors as ourselves…and respecting the dignity of every human being.

That’s our work. That’s the example we can give to others.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Who Do YOU Say That I Am?"

 

 You got love it when your bishop hears something you said on a podcast and decides to make it into a graphic!

I'm back from my vacation in Europe to see the solar eclipse and to take in the festivities in Laruns, France, on the Feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Those were the two big highlights of this excursion.

And I wisely wrote this sermon before I left. So, tell me what do you think? Do you think Jesus is a little bit sassy at times?

 

Text: Matthew 16:13-20 

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“Who is Jesus Christ?”

That was the question put before me during my interview with the bishop of Florida in 20-13.

He didn’t exactly ask that question as much as barked it at me.

But of all the things that I was asked during that interview…who was Jesus Christ was the one question for which I could answer with no hesitation and a big smile.

“Jesus Christ is the greatest liberator from oppression ever!”

I have no doubts about that answer.

And it came from having run away…struggled and wrestled with God for more than ten years before that meeting.

It was born from experiencing the depth and breadth of a Love that was beyond my wildest imagination.

It had it’s formation from entering Holy Week and the Triduum—those three Holy Days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter—and emerging out of an Easter service with that fullness of joy in feeling God’s promise having been kept to us: that assurance that Love wins!

That Love always is a stronger, more enduring power than fear or hate.

Incidentally…I tend to think that’s the reason why so many of our politicians and others lose their minds every June when the LGBTQIA community celebrates Pride. because…Pride…is really a big ol’ carnival of honoring and rejoicing in Love.

The bullies and tyrants can’t hold power over others when that Power of Love takes up all the space.

Bullies and tyrants were all around Jesus and the disciples at Caesarea Phillippi. Where this Gospel scene takes place is at or at least near the grotto dedicated to the pagan god Pan…the deity of shepherds.

The disciples are far away from the safety of being with their kinfolk when Jesus asks them, “Who do the people say that I am?”

And the answers run the gamut.

“Well…some think you’re your cousin John the Baptist. Some say you’re Elijah. Some think you’re Jeremiah or one of the other prophets.”

Jesus is like, “Uh-huh. OK. Cool, cool.”

I mean…none of those are bad ideas…and showed a type of Judaism that was faithful and dutiful to God.

But then Jesus makes the question personal.

“Who do you say that I am?”

This is no longer about what others say or think.

There isn’t a cheat sheet that they can check to find the “right answer” to this question.

This is about their own belief…their own experience…their own understanding of this man they’ve been following all over the place.

And he’s quizzing them as they were standing at a place of worship centered on an idol…and not the God of their ancestors.

I find this is one of those moments that’s still relevant for us today…living in a time where to profess to have faith in Jesus can evoke either strong positive or negative reactions from others.

Our vestry has been reading the book “Church Tomorrow?” by the Reverend Stephanie Spellers…who once served on the Presiding Bishop’s staff under Michael Curry.

She notes that survey after survey of people in this country shows the steep decline in religious affiliation…especially in mainline Protestant churches.

A 20-24 Pew Research Center poll found that only 63-percent of those surveyed identify as Christian…while those who claim no religious affiliation is 28 percent.

This change has been happening over the past 50 years…with the steady decrease in church attendance and the gradual uptick in the number of people who have no faith affiliation or interest in religion at all.

So knowing and being able to articulate “who Jesus is” to us…each one of us…remains probably the most important question for any of us to answer when we take a moment to contemplate our relationship to God through Jesus Christ.

And how we answer that question speaks to how we have come to find God in this second person of the Trinity…Jesus…in a culture where that might be seen as “weird” or even really counter-cultural.

Each one of us will have any variety of words…and feelings associated with those words…for how we relate to Jesus…or if we even feel we do relate to him. 

From the Christian perspective…the hope is that we have at least found in him a Word…the Word…that has become flesh…and through him it has led us to faith in the Name that is above all Names.

In our Gospel story…Peter…our beloved extroverted disciple… is the one who pipes up with, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God!”

Good job, Peter!

The next few verses…where Jesus gives the details of how he’s giving him the nickname, ‘Peter’ or petras…meaning “The Rock”…and declaring it will be upon this rock that Jesus will build the church…is a description that only appears in Matthew’s telling of this story.

Scholars believe it’s because the Matthean community was a Christian community forming and emerging in the middle of a struggle and upheaval in Judaism after the destruction of the second Temple.

This new community also continued to face hardships living as a minority group within the Roman Empire.

Matthew includes these words spoken at a pagan shrine to give confidence to those beleaguered and fearful followers that Jesus was establishing something new…and that this was all happening within this pagan culture.

It’s also telling us I think something about Peter as that representative of this new church.

Remember about a month ago when we heard all those parables of Jesus…and his description of the “kingdom of heaven is like” a sower tossing seeds around.

Jesus describes the seeds that land on rocky ground as “this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy. Yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away.” (Matt 13: 20-21).

Think about what happens with Peter when Jesus confronts the power structure in Jerusalem.

Jesus gets arrested…Peter gets put on the spot about whether he has anything to do with this upstart challenging the status quo…and then three denials and a cock-a-doodle doo later…the one who we heard call Jesus “the Messiah” in front of the grotto of Pan is suddenly not so bold sitting by the fire in the high priest’s courtyard.

This is also a perfect reflection of the church…both the institution and the people.

While the church has exalted Jesus and we have venerated the cross…we have also not always lived into our call to follow in Jesus’s footsteps.

Like Peter…we have been the rocky soil…happily hearing the words of Scripture while it’s read within the walls of the building on Sunday.

But when faced with a world that does not know this liberating Love… and governmental and political structures that don’t care about its message of compassion for the planet and its people… we have a tendency to shrink back into silence on Monday.

There’s a reluctance to confront the systems that have done harm…sometimes because of our own guilt in the ways we have participated in those systems.

And many times…because of not wanting to get involved in things that are messy.

Our own denomination was slow to speak up about the injustice and unfairness of the Jim Crow laws in the South.

It wasn’t until a white Episcopal seminarian…Jonathan Myrick Daniels…was murdered in Alabama in 19-65 for an act of heroism in saving a young black teenage girl named Ruby Sales that the broader Episcopal church finally took a stand for civil rights.

When the church…you and me…goes silent…we allow others to speak in our name in ways that betray that life-giving liberating Love of God that we have known through Jesus.

And it’s not as if Jesus hadn’t warned that trouble would be coming to the church.

In the verses that follow this morning’s reading…Jesus tells the disciples the horrors that will occur in Jerusalem…that he will be killed…but that he will also be raised on the third day.

And Peter…the rock of the church…says, “No, no, no. Don’t say that! That’s scary. That’s hard.”

Yes, it is.

And again…that’s the world in which the church…both the institution…and each of us…has to operate.

We have to risk facing the scary…and the unpredictable nature of the world. But we can and we must do it.

Look again at Peter.

Remember Pentecost?

The Holy Spirit blows through the Upper Room…and re-ignites the flames that had been dimming in the wake of all the trouble and turmoil at the crucifixion…and the exhilaration and confusion at the resurrection.

And Peter finally screws up his courage to assert…in the face of opponents and skeptics…that Jesus was right…his way of being is the way to life.

Despite the flaws…the stumbling…the lack of courage…his rocky faith found the good soil and dropped down strong and resilient roots.

And the one who was given the keys to the kingdom is finally ready to drive the car.

That’s the truth of the church as well.

When those of us who make up the foundation of this institution find the words…and the feelings we attach to those words about Jesus…and live by them…love our neighbors through them…and challenge our systems to be better because of those words…we also become the ones who are bringing earth and heaven closer together.

Who is Jesus Christ?

That’s the question.

It’s up to each of us to have an answer…guided by our own experience of the God who is Love.

And how we answer…and then live into that answer…is how we can help show others the true nature of Jesus as that beacon of life-giving and liberating Love that God has to offer this world.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.