Love is THE Agenda

 Today was a day where I was on-edge. I have never led a church Annual Meeting. We were going to be electing new vestry members and adopting bylaws for the parish.  I was preaching and celebrating at the table. It felt like a lot. And, as always, God came through to keep me calm. And it all went well. 

+++

I couldn’t have asked for a better set of readings on the day of the Annual Meeting of the parish.

We have the call of Jeremiah, where our dear prophet is so delightfully honest:

“Ah Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak for I am only a boy.”

(Yeah, God isn’t gonna take that cop out!) Basically, God tells the prophet…you will go. I will speak through you. Do not be afraid. And for the record, Jeremiah does go, he speaks, he endures much hardship, and God is with him throughout.

We have Jesus in his hometown synagogue. At first, the gathered crowd was skeptical. You have those who whisper to their neighbor “Isn’t this the carpenter’s kid?” And then Jesus hits them how Israel as a nation didn’t do all the things Isaiah said to do…but recalls how their two prophets Elijah and Elisha turned to the Gentiles to bind up the wounds of the brokenhearted, discouraged, and forgotten. Being told hard truths and judgment didn’t go over well. The crowd wanted to kill Jesus…but God kept him safe from their wrath.

And then we have the Epistle lesson.

“Love is patient, love is kind, love is not boastful, or arrogant or rude…”

I know. We’ve all heard this passage from First Corinthians before. Heck, it’s in a framed poster right outside the door of our sanctuary.

We’ve been to that wedding…religious or secular…where we’ve heard someone read these words aloud. And we get all misty-eyed as we gaze upon the couple, the flowers, the pretty white wedding gowns, and snazzy tuxedos…the string quartets playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. Ahhhhhhh…..

That’s SO not what this reading is about!

In fact, to truly understand what Paul is saying here and why, we need to recollect the portion from this letter to the Corinthian Church that we heard LAST week.

Not to go over it in detail again, but it was one of those moments where he’s using the body as a metaphor for the church…and that idea that we need each other, with our individual gifts, to make up the whole body. It’s that notion that an eye can’t tell the hand or foot to get lost because they aren’t eyes. If we were all eyes and no hands and feet we’d all be cyclops’s…and how weird would that be?

Paul is addressing a particular problem that was happening in Corinth. And some things to know about this area of the ancient world:

It was a diverse urban center with many different ethnicities making up the church population.

The major industries involved metal and glass working, hence Paul’s use of the clanging cymbal and looking through a glass darkly language. He knew the Corinthians would readily understand those metaphors.

And it was a church that was fracturing, largely over egos.

There were those who had particular gifts…such as speaking in tongues…and they believed that unless you had that gift, then you weren’t really one of them and couldn’t possibly be a real believer.  Same with those who regarded prophesy as the most important gift. And those who valued “knowledge” and “wisdom” and believed those speaking in tongues or claiming prophesy were not “the real deal.”

In other words…they sound like Christian churches of the 21^st century! Everyone has their own field of interest, their own ministry, their own agenda. Their own right way or the highway attitude.

And Paul is reminding them in this part of his letter that there is only one way and one agenda item: Love!

“Let me make this clear to you, my dear Corinthians: if you think that gift of yours is so special and you don’t recognize that it’s only a part of the big wide expanse of Love….well, then you’re nothing more than a clanging cymbal,  a bunch of noise with nothing to really show for yourself!”

And—hey—as important as any particular gift might be…those special gifts aren’t going to last forever. Tongues go silent. Knowledge dies off. Prophesies only last until there’s a new vision.

Love?

Love lasts.

Love lives on.

Love is not just another spiritual gift; it is THE gift that keeps on giving.

And what’s good for the Corinthians is good for us here today.

Just like with the Corinthians, Paul is telling us that whatever we think is the most important thing for us to do at St. Barnabas…it must start with getting grounded in the love of God…as known to us through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

Jesus himself gave us the bare essentials of what it takes to live into that love. We heard him last week when he read from the prophet Isaiah:

The spirit of the Lord is upon me

To bring good news to the poor

Release to the captives

Return sight to the blind and

Free the oppressed.

As our excellent preacher, the Rev. Hailey Jacobsen, noted for us… that spirit is laid upon us…all of us…right now here at St. Barnabas…and isn’t waiting for the day when our aches and pains aren’t acting up…or holding out for when we have three or four families with young children to come in the door. We’ll rejoice when that happens, but for now, we are called upon to live into the community we have. Be the hands, feet, eyes, and ears…working together in love and unity of Christ’s body so we can serve our wider community. We need all the of the body parts working together as we become a beloved community.

How do we get there?

Just as God’s love is given freely and we have that love in us, each one of us is to share our love with others…both here in our parish and outside our campus.  

Each one of us must ask ourselves: What are the gifts I have… empowered and amplified through Love… and how can I share those gifts with others around me to build more love in this community?

 

Finally: how can I encourage, honor, and make room for another’s gifts to flourish?

One way is through prayer and allowing for God to work through us…that whole “let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to God.”

Maybe we need to practice empathy and step into another’s shoes and understand that everyone is struggling with something right now. In what ways can we give encouragement and support to one another? Sometimes, it’s better not to say things.

This puts love into action.

That’s what Paul was driving at when he talked about putting away childish things. We are called upon to grow up and bring a more mature, loving, giving faith to the table…this table… and to allow that bread and wine to soften our hearts and bring us back in line with Jesus.

This is our mission, if we choose to accept it: Love one another as Christ has loved us. We’re all in this together to make this place a beacon for Christ and God’s love for the world.

 

 

Ordination to the Sacred Order of Priests

 

It was a long time coming. And more often than not, I didn't think it would ever happen that I would be accepted into the Sacred Order of Priests. 

Not many people who see this blog have read my journey from the start. A search of the label "faith journey" will give you lots of links to past entries if you're interested. It has been a long, very strange, sometimes terrifying (for me), intensely joy-filled trip. 

I'm posting the link to the Video of the service at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church, Valdosta, GA. Officially, I am now the Priest-in-Charge at St. Barnabas. People wanted to know "Why not rector?" It comes down to money; they don't have enough in their bank account to afford a full-time priest, so I am very part-time and bivocational. My massage clients are thrilled, even if I am not as available to them as I was before seminary. 

I'm sure I will have more to say about my experience of being ordained at some point. I'm still processing my emotions. It was incredible, not because anything "happened" in the moment. But I do feel as if people at St. Barnabas are taking me just a little more seriously than they did before my ordination on the 22nd of January. 

One of the things I was the most nervous about was the time following the service. I knew that was a time when people line up to be blessed by the new priest. This is something they don't prepare you for in seminary. There is no class in "blessings." There is no textbook. There is just you. And God. And a person kneeling before you. 

And, as has happened many times in this journey, God showed up. It was as if my one and only role was to greet the person and then lay my hands on their head and begin to pray. The words were sounds coming from my mouth, but the actual statements were coming from somewhere else. I cannot recollect what I said to any individual. I just met them, as a priest and a person who has known what it is to turn to God in desperation and celebrate with joy when I see good things come together. And then the words poured forth lot a steady stream of crystal-clear water.

The first person to ask me for a blessing: the bishop of Georgia who had just ordained me and made me a priest. This was an amazing statement. Once upon a time in this diocese, the likes of me were intentionally, deliberately, and cruelly excluded from entering into this ministry. That changed at the diocesan convention in 2013 (you can find the stories of this if you research "Episcopal" under the 2013 entries. And here we are, almost nine years later, and I am blessing the bishop who was the Canon to the Ordinary at that important change in the diocese of Georgia. Meanwhile, in Florida, LGBTQ+ Episcopalians must still search for the crumbs falling from the table in Jacksonville, and if it's a call to ordained ministry they seek, well...they might as well study what happened to Hagar in Genesis 16. We can serve near the altar, but we are not allowed to get behind it.

As part of the weekend, I was given a break from preaching. My good friend from seminary, the Rev. Hailey Jacobsen, did a magnificent job of setting the stage for me and this flock I'm called to lead to pay attention to the Spirit as it has been laid upon us. What a joy to have had her serving with me at my first celebration of the Eucharist. 

I'll have a sermon up for the 4th Sunday After Epiphany, and the remarks that I am making to the congregation of St. Barnabas at our Annual Meeting. 

Peace be with you, my readers...whoever you are and wherever you may be. God is love. 

Striving Toward the Joy of Beloved Community

 

 

At this point it goes without saying that all of my sermons for the next several weeks, months, and possibly years will be primarily for the congregation at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in Valdosta, GA. My tenure at Christ the King has come to an end. This is also my last weekend as the "Deacon in Charge" at St. B. On Saturday, January 22nd, I will become their "Priest in Charge." Much rather be a PIC than a DIC. LOL!

I had probably a hundred different thoughts and ideas and musings about what I could say about the Gospel story of the wedding at Cana and Jesus' first recorded miracle. Thinking about it being MLK, Jr. Day weekend pushed me to consider not just the Gospel lesson, but the reading from Isaiah in which the prophet calls on God to make good on the promises made to Israel, while delivering a message of uplift to a bunch of people who have been kicked in the teeth and scattered all over the place. What follows is how I married these two passages with their "wedding" imagery. 

+++ 

There are two ways to know when a party is over: one is that the music stops. The other is when they run out of refreshments…and in the world of adults…I’m talking about the wine.

And that’s what’s at stake here in the scene from our Gospel.

There’s a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee. Back in those days, weddings were big “to-do’s.” We’re talking a seven-day blow out celebration, a party ‘til you drop affair. So to have the wine run out…and it’s only day three…that would throw cold water on the jubilant and festive mood and be the height of embarrassment for the bridegroom’s family, the hosts of this happy occasion.  

Mary…Jesus’ mother…sees this social catastrophe on the horizon and turns to Jesus to let him know that the wine is running out. And Jesus looks at his mother and says, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.”

This isn’t the only time in the Scriptures where we hear Jesus say something to a woman that might make us think, “Ouch!”

Remember the Syrophoenician woman in Mark with the sick daughter? She seeks out Jesus for help and he tells her that his food is for the children of Israel and not the dogs? And we know how she responds to that…not backing down from her ask and pointing out to Jesus that “even the dogs under the children’s table eat the crumbs” (Mark7:28).

Mary is also undaunted. Even as Jesus is asserting that his “hour has not come,” she knows from everything she’s been pondering in her heart that if anyone can respond and keep this party going, it is Jesus. John doesn’t tell us how she responded to his remark, but clearly she had full faith and confidence that Jesus would not sit idly by.

She tells the servants to follow his directions. And Jesus proceeds to do his first miracle…turning water into wine.

And the party continued.

Jesus heard and understood what needed to happen…even if he seemed at first to be reluctant or unwilling to intervene.

His hour may not have come…but this party was going to fall apart if he didn’t act.

The prophet Isaiah is in a similar situation. The Babylonians had wrecked Zion and Jerusalem. Those who had been in exile are now coming back. Those who had been left behind were traumatized and resentful. Joy is nowhere to be found. And Isaiah turns to God in this time of an uncertain future:

“For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn and her salvation like a burning torch.” (Isaiah 62:1)

In the same way that Mary can see that something is awry and needs Jesus’ attention now…Isaiah isn’t going to let God forget the promises made to rescue Israel and restore its dwelling place of Zion and Jerusalem. Isaiah envisions a time when not only will Israel be in right relationship with God; the relationship will be made new…a new name…and the Lord will delight and rejoice as a bridegroom seeing his bride.

And here we are back at the image of weddings…high times…and festive occasions…and lots of joy!

In both these stories…there is an action to get God’s attention. Whether it is Isaiah crying out for the restoration of Israel…or Mary seeking the key element needed to keep a party going strong…someone seeks…and finds God is listening.

I’m wondering how many times each one of us has found ourselves in a situation where we stand in the middle of a dilemma and call out…in exasperation or tears or deep heavy sighs…we seek to get God’s attention to our plight?

This is the weekend where we remember Georgia’s native son the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his place in our country’s history in the struggle for civil rights for people of color.

There is a story about the night of January 27^th 1956…almost sixty-six years ago…when Dr. King took a phone call that shook him to his core. *

King and his young family were living in the parsonage of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery Alabama. He was involved in the bus boycott at the time and had become accustomed to receiving death threats by mail and phone. But this call apparently rattled his nerves.

It was about midnight…and the caller growled a threat…laced with racial epithets…that King better leave town in three days or the caller was going to “blow up your house and blow your brains out!”

Dr. King went to the stove, made himself a cup of coffee, and then sat at his kitchen table. After a short while, he put his head in his hands and began to pray aloud:

“Lord, I’m down here trying to do what’s right … But … I must confess … I’m losing my courage.”

It’s not surprising he’d have made a prayer like that. Challenging the status quo and being regarded as an outsider in every way and knowing the history of violence against people of color must have been terrifying.

King says the response he got back was an inner voice that said to him:

“Martin Luther, stand up for truth. Stand up for justice. Stand up for righteousness.”

In that moment, he felt a sense of calm wash over his body. He gained assurance…and knew he had to keep going.

God listened. God heard. And God responded.

God met King in his place of fear and desire to retreat. In that moment, King became aware that what he was doing was important and necessary, and no threat could stop him. He was calling a nation to come into right relationship. He was pressing on us to treat everybody right, rejecting the sin of exclusion and racist hatred and fear, and lean into the joy of beloved community.

We’re still working toward that dream of beloved community, when we can all live in harmony and joy.  

Income and health care disparities still exist…and we’re still wrangling over access to the ballot box. Indeed…sometimes it feels as if the promised land is still many miles away.

Or are we so pre-occupied with seeking a pre-determined answer that we don’t see the ways God is working God’s purpose out? That’s another part of our Gospel lesson.

The steward at the wedding in Cana couldn’t understand how it came to be that the wine the bridegroom was serving on day three was of the top shelf variety. The steward was thinking that should’ve been served first and then once the guests can’t tell the difference anymore, the bridegroom can pull out the Manischewitz (apologies to anyone who likes Manischewitz ).

The steward’s attention was on the task at hand, and he was oblivious to what Jesus had done, this miracle of changing ritual water into wine. He was too focused on the details to experience the joy.

We, too, can get so wrapped up in the mundane or our disagreements and division in the nation that we fail to see how God’s purpose is getting worked out day to day in our lives to bring us to the party.

We see it here in our diocese with the Racial Justice and Healing Commission, a group dedicated to working through the troubled history of the past…one relationship at a time…and realizing a hopeful path to a future. The evil that was the murder of Ahmaud Arbery has made this work take on even more importance.

As I mentioned in a sermon during Advent, the clergy in Brunswick pulled together across denominational and faith boundaries to begin the process of addressing injustice not with shouting…but with praying, sharing, listening, and learning.

My hope is that we will see in the next several months opportunities for us in Georgia to do some exploration of the past that leads to something that looks more like the joy of God’s dream of beloved community.

That dream of a beloved community…where all people…no matter our age, color, gender, orientation, status, or identity…  can drink the sweet wine of God’s love…and respect the dignity of every human being.

What a festive wedding banquet that would be!

In name of God…Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

 

*Story related here: Martin Luther King’s defining moment: A kitchen, in Montgomery, Alabama, past midnight - Lisa Singh

 

 

 

 

 

Yes!! to the Beloved Baptized

Hello again! Because I have been finishing my service at Christ the King, I didn't have to preach for either of the two Sundays of Christmas. And, because we had a supply priest at St. Barnabas for Christmas Eve, I didn't preach that evening either. And because St. Barnabas is 80 miles from my home, and I didn't sense a great desire to have a Christmas morning service, I didn't have to preach on that day either. Instead, I helped my wife and her Temple Israel team prepare and serve a Christmas dinner to those living at Tallahassee's homeless shelter, a Christmas tradition for us since about 2003. 

All of this to say that after four weeks of preaching about the impending incarnation, and all that I had on my mind with the preparation for celebrating that feast, I was kind of like Moses...taking the people to the border of the promised land, but not getting to preach about the experience of entering it. Pity. 

Not really. I was glad for the reprieve. It has been more than just a little bit daunting to be "Deacon in Charge" at one place and "Assistant Clergy" at another place. I feel as though I went from swimming in the kiddie pool at seminary to being thrown into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with everyone screaming at me to "Swim!!!" And with my ordination to the priesthood now only 12 days away, I am still feeling a bit shaky as to whether I'm fully prepared to lead just the one congregation. Thanks be to God I am not being asked to do two!

OK, enough of all that. Yesterday, we had the reading from the Gospel of Luke (Luke 3:15-17;21-22) about Jesus' baptism in the Jordan River. And what a great opportunity to preach on baptism, and lead a
congregation in that (IMHO) Baptismal Covenant with its five questions:

1. Will you continue in the apostles' teaching and the fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?

2. Will you persevere in resisting evil, and whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?

3. Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

4. Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

5. Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

To each of these questions, we answer "I will, with God's help." May it be so!

 +++

 

I would imagine most of us here have been baptized, probably as infants…which means we don’t likely remember a whole lot about what happened that day.

The sights, the sounds, the words spoken to us, or the promises made on our behalf.

It did happen.

And… if it was in an Episcopal Church prior to the 1979 Book of Common Prayer…it might have been a very private ceremony with just the family and Godparents.

Thankfully, one of the major changes that came with our current prayer book is that baptism is a communal event.

Each person baptized into the Body of Christ is not only receiving support from the parents and Godparents; the whole church community becomes the extended family of the one being initiated into the faith.

It’s a moment when we all become a parent, a sibling, a caring relative of this new member as they join us in the journey of faith…at whatever pace we’re walking it.

Now…I’m also guessing that none of us heard a voice from heaven…or saw the Holy Spirit descending as a dove at the time of our baptism.

But God and God’s spirit were still present.

And here’s the best part: even if the person doing the baptism…a priest, a bishop, or even a hospital nurse…even if they were not a model citizen or a particularly good Christian, it doesn’t matter, because God is the one doing the action through the priest or bishop or nurse. Thanks be to God for that!

And that gets us to this scene in our Gospel lesson with John baptizing Jesus. If we pay attention to what John is saying, he’s doing the baptism that is the Jewish rite of purification, cleansing of sins. In Judaism, this is done in what is called a mikvah, which is a ritual bath that looks like a small swimming pool, with water that is partly from a natural source…such as a river or rainwater.

John was performing the ritual in the Jordan, and as we hear, people were coming to him to receive his baptism. But when they start speculating that he’s the messiah, he quickly tells them…No, he’s not the one. There’s another coming after him who will not baptize with water but with another element…with fire. And John goes on to give a big vision of what that will look like with a winnowing fork…separating wheat from chaff.

So…it’s a little odd that Jesus then comes and seeks out John’s baptism. If Jesus is the Messiah…and if John is “not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals” (Luke 3:16c), then why is Jesus needing John to baptize him?

It’s one of those brain teaser type questions that can keep theologians occupied for hours.

And it’s an important point for us to think about during this season of Epiphany…as we see each week…a new revelation…a new unfolding…of who is Jesus…what’s he all about…and why does this matter to us sitting here in the 21^st century in Southwest Georgia.

Take a moment and pull out the insert and look at the very last part of today’s Gospel lesson…where it starts with “Now when all the people were baptized.” In Luke’s version of this scene, we don’t get the actual baptism of Jesus.

Instead, Luke tells us that first the people were baptized, then Jesus was also baptized.

He didn’t cut in line.

He didn’t insist that he go first because he’s the important one here.

Jesus joins with the people, becomes one with everyone else. He goes into those same waters. He places himself in the hands of his cousin and is fully immersed in the experience of purification from sin…even though tradition says he had no sin.

And then he prays.

Perhaps he prays for the world and what it had done to the people.

I have to wonder…now that he’s gone down into the waters of the Jordan after so many others seeking John’s baptism of purification and repentance, how did that experience affect him?

Did this full immersion…perhaps lead him to pray for all the sins left behind in those waters: the pettiness, the selfishness, the greed that helps to create systems of us vs. them?

Did he need prayer for himself…for strength and courage. He’s living in a society where the fragile egos of the rulers could be costly for those speaking truth to power.

Afterall John will be imprisoned for having called out Herod’s illegal marriage to his brother’s wife. And we know that the Baptizer is eventually beheaded as party favor at a depraved birthday party.

As Jesus is praying…the heaven “was opened” and the Holy Spirit descended in “bodily form like a dove” (Luke 3:21-22a). And then he hears those words: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

That statement…that wonderful affirmation…sounds so similar to what God says to Isaiah in the reading we had today: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name and you are mine.” (Isaiah 43:16c).

This is not a distant and remote God.

This is an intimate and deeply caring and personal God. A God of relationship.

You are my Son. The beloved. With you I am well pleased.

Whatever it was that Jesus sought in that time of prayer after his baptism, the answer from God is an unmistakable and resounding, Yes.

Yes, no matter what comes at you, you are mine.

Yes, no matter what powers and principalities oppose you, you are the beloved.

Yes, even when the world mocks and scorns you and believes it has defeated you, I am well-pleased with the work you have done.

That resounding “Yes” from God was not just for his only and begotten Son; it’s our “Yes” as well. A “Yes” that’s meant to be shared.

We help to create this same powerful loving affirmation when we gather as a church community and participate in a baptismal service. When we say in one voice that we will support a person who is committing their life to Christ, we become that incarnation of the Holy Spirit that appeared as a dove for Jesus, and that bold announcement to the world that here is another beloved with whom God is well pleased.

Baptism is our entry into the death and life of Christ. We become a member of his eternal priesthood. The waters of baptism…whether dunked or sprinkled…whether we are infants or toddlers…teenagers or adults…those waters are the outward symbol of our abiding and unbreakable connection to Christ. We can draw on his strength and courage to weather the various storms we encounter in our own lives.

We don’t have anyone to baptize today…and I look forward to a time when we do have a person wishing to join us in this journey of compassionate ministry. But it is always a good practice to be reminded of who we are and whose we are in Christ through our baptism.

With that, I’m going to ask you now to open your prayer books to page 304. And in place of our traditional use of the Nicene Creed, we are going to use this format of the Apostle’s Creed followed by the five questions. Each question should remind us of our own baptism and the commitments we make as members of the Episcopal Church to God and to each other.

(Turn to page 304)