Get Out There! A Sermon for Pentecost with Holy Baptisms

 

What a fantastic way to celebrate Pentecost. We had not one, not two...but six baptisms! Both of which were family affairs. A mom and her two toddlers; two moms and their teenage daughter. All of them came to us through our modest outreach efforts on Ash Wednesday offering "Ashes-to-Go" in the parking lot of the church. 

Don't ever let anyone say that the Holy Spirit is dead.

She's alive...and is still making beautiful mischief while the world feasts on mayhem.

Text: Acts 2:1-21

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What a scene that must’ve been in the upper room that day…the day that the Holy Spirit swept in like a great mighty wind.

All these people…from different regions of the world as they knew it at that time…are in Jerusalem.

The disciples are huddled together…not quite knowing what to do with themselves.

They’d been moved by the words of Jesus.

They’d given up their careers and left their homes to follow Jesus.

They’d just been on an emotional rollercoaster…having seen him killed by the Roman authorities…and then he reappeared to them…resurrected from the dead.

He continued to encourage them…and then left them again to ascend into heaven.

So there they are…sitting there…looking at each other…trying to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing with themselves now.

Suddenly…a great gust of wind throws open the doors and the windows of that room.

The Holy Spirit lights their hearts and minds…and most importantly their mouths…on fire.

They start telling the story of God’s love with such a passion in languages they’d never spoken before.

But others are hearing them.

They understand them.

And what they’re hearing are words that express a universal truth about their true selves:

They are all beloved children of God.

It had to be an incredible moment!

It reminds me of the time when my wife and I were visiting Lourdes in France.  

The grotto of Bernadette is a Roman Catholic pilgrimage site…which isn’t far from where Isabelle grew up.

People from all over the world come to this place…many seeking healing.

When you walk through the plaza as you approach the grotto…it’s like the United Nations of languages.

People are speaking French…Italian…German…Spanish…just lots of other languages all around you.

There’s often a religious service taking place in the grotto…which can also be in whatever is the native tongue of the priest.

We were there in the afternoon…and so the priest was leading people in reciting the rosary…with the Hail Mary and Our Father prayers.

Groups were filing through the grotto as the people prayed.

They were touching the stones of this cave where Bernadette reportedly had had a vision of the Virgin Mary in the 19^th century.

But then…as the service was ending…the priest began chanting the Ave Maria.

And the whole place…in the grotto…and out in the large plaza…people stopped.

And in one voice…they all join in singing the chorus together.

It didn’t matter what nationality they were…or even whether they were Roman Catholic or not…in that moment…we were all made one…in the Holy Spirit…united in this song of praise.

That sense of being swept up in a single a voice and singing in joyful praise of God is how I imagine what it must have been like to be in that upper room at that moment.

Filled with the Holy Spirit…these followers of Jesus have something like a new life breathed into them.

Look at Peter.

I think many of us can relate to Peter as that disciple who wants to follow Jesus…and gets it right sometimes and falls short in so many other ways.

Peter raises his voice …and begins a soliloquy about Jesus.

The Spirit is stirring him up…and he’s speaking with that level of confidence and eloquence like he’d never had before.

If we remember way back into Advent…we heard how John the Baptizer had promised that while he was baptizing with water…the one that was coming would baptize the people with fire.

Well…here it is…just as he had promised!

And with this baptism…it’s time for those who had been worried and afraid…those who had been wondering what to do…to put aside any doubt or fear…and get out there.

Their hesitations…are literally and figuratively burned up and blown away.

They’re free…and liberated to proclaim proudly…who they are and whose they are.

It’s out of the Upper Room and into the streets…and beyond!

Thomas went to India.

John went to Turkey and Greece.

Peter went to Rome.

Matthew to Syria.

This fledgling ragtag movement of love…compassion…healing and mercy that Jesus had been leading has taken off…and the church has come into being. Hallelujah and Happy Birthday to the Church!

And just like any birthday…this is not a one-and-done event.

Birthdays keep coming.

The Spirit keeps lighting up more people…bringing more and more into this practice of love.

Think about all those we’ve seen throughout time who have shown courage and strength despite whatever obstacles get thrown in their way.

We can see the fruits of the spirit at work through religious leaders like Howard Thurman…and Martin Luther King, Jr….and even the Philadelphia Eleven.

We can witness how the Spirit gave courage to leaders in civil rights like Rosa Parks and Marsha P. Johnson.

We know the presence of the Holy Spirit when we look to those people who fill us with hope…the people who gives us encouragement…the people who remind us that when God surveyed all of creation… God called it all good.

This is the work of the Holy Spirit…to keep us moving…stretching…and embracing the good that is in us and confirmed through the waters of baptism.

Today…we are blessed to be baptizing Anna, Brandi, Madison, Aureila, Ridley and Brittany.

Through these waters of baptism we are both welcoming you into the Body of Christ…that big…amazing…and very diverse Christian family.

And we are confirming what has been true about each of you all along: you are beloved children of God…valued and precious in God’s sight.

Each one of us who has been made part of the Christian church…no matter what denomination or orthodoxy…are made one through baptism…all singing that same song of praise to God…who is Love everlasting.

And that’s the message that needs to leave here and be taken out into the world.

The Holy Spirit is that person of the Trinity that keeps nudging us toward living lives that reflect Christ’s love….and Christ’s mission to care not just for ourselves but others.

And—I need to warn y’all—the Spirit is pretty relentless in the pursuit of us and getting us to get out there.

As one of my spiritual directors here in the diocese used to tell me, “The Holy Spirit has got some mighty sharp elbows, and she doesn’t mind sticking you in the ribs when it’s necessary!”

Let’s go! Let the Spirit be the guide! And let’s make God’s love be the core of our beings.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honoring All of God's Creation: A Sermon for 6B Easter (Rogation Sunday)

 

This was a first for St. Barnabas: a celebration of the Rogation Days, a practice from the 5th Century England where the priests and church would bless the land in hopes of a fruitful harvest. These days are celebrated right before the Ascension Day, whcn Jesus is finally lifted into heaven. And while this was primarily started as a time to ask a rogatio or blessing from God on the land, the Episcopal Church has expanded it to also include commerce and industry. This way urban and rural can meet each other in a time of seeking God's mercy and grace upon all that we do here on the planet. 

As I said, St. Barnabas had never done a Rogation Day celebration before. But we have a group focused on Creation Care and linking faith to action in taking care of things around us. I felt that we could take some of that a little further...and came up with a sermon that looked at all of creation. See what you think.

Texts: Acts 10:44-48, Ps. 98, 1 John 5:1-6, John 15:9-17

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Welcome to Rogation Sunday!

Rogation…that fancy schmancy word for “asking” or “petitioning” God for a blessing.

We began our worship this morning outside at our gardens. We prayed for the goodness of the soil and those who tend it.

We blessed the fish in our koi pond and sought God’s help to remember our part in caring for the fish and all animals.

We gave thanks for the Bishop’s Garden and asked for a blessing upon this space where we’ve gathered for prayer and worship.

We lift all these prayers on this Sunday.

If we really wanted to get into the spirit of Rogation Days…we’d take this next Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday as times to seek divine providence to bless all industry and commerce in our area.

We’d be at the entrance to Moody Air Force Base…and downtown at the seat of local government…at the offices of the Valdosta Lowndes County Chamber of Commerce…at V-S-U and South Georgia Medical…blessing the industries of our local area.

Maybe next year.

We blessed each of these areas with the waters of baptism. 

The same waters that connected us to Jesus and the whole history of God’s people.

We heard it in our first reading this morning from the Acts of the Apostles.

Just like last week’s reading with the Ethiopian eunuch…Peter and the other Jewish followers are witnesses to the truth that God’s grace, love, and mercy are meant for everyone…without any kind of proof of proper pedigree or pre-requisites.

The spontaneous response to this witness was to baptize these Gentiles…bring them into the growing community of believers.

They use water to signify that those who were “them” are now one of “us.”

Water as that symbol…that outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual grace.

And if you think about it…that’s what we’ve done today.

With our blessing of flowers…plants…and fish.

What we’ve said is that these wonders of creation are also one of us.

It’s something that I don’t think we’re always aware of in our day-to-day living.

That phrase about stopping to smell the roses…is more than just a reminder to slow down. But to really understand that we have a connection to those roses.

I think one of our greatest sins of our day is to separate ourselves from all the rest of creation.

As wonderful and amazing as the Industrial Revolution was in opening our minds to engineering better and more efficient ways to produce food and make our lives more comfortable…I think it also disrupted our relationship to the land and the sea and all that moves within it.

In those moments when we are reminded of our role as stewards of creation…we can fall into thinking that stewardship means a paternalistic role…as if we are the better and smarter part of creation that needs to tend to these lesser things.

I remember some years ago attending a lecture by the Old Testament scholar Dr. Ellen Davis of Duke Divinity School.

She was doing a teaching on the Book of Leviticus…which she says is the greenest book of the Bible.

Dr. Davis talked about how in Leviticus the various codes of proper living involved a trinitarian like relationship: God is in relationship with humanity and with the land. She drew a triangle with God as the apex and humanity at one corner and the land at the other with the lines connecting all three together.

Davis said that God holds an equal relationship to humanity and the land and that we…as the human part of creation…are to have an equal level partnership with the land…not a domineering subduing type of relationship.

She noted that the Holiness Codes in Leviticus use the body as a guidepost for how one is to treat and be in relationship with the land.

For instance…verses that talk about men not trimming the edges of their beards were a bodily physical reminder to not trim the fruit from the hedges…so that foreigners would have something they could pick and eat.

But Davis also drew our attention to the verses at the end of chapter 18 in Leviticus…ones where God gives warning to humanity…to us…about what can happen if we don’t treat the land with respect.

Right there in the text…the Hebrew is translated to say that the land can “vomit us up” if we defile the land.

So our scriptures do give us guidance for how we are to treat the land…the sea…and all that is in it. To see them as having equality to us in the eyes of our creator God.

And while we work to improve how we treat those parts of creation…our Gospel reminds us that we have another responsibility.

We must love one another as Christ loved us.

We must look to the ways in which Jesus stepped outside of himself…went beyond just his own kind…to meet people in their lives…sat with them at the water well and engaged with them. Took a stand for those whom the rest of society were ready to stone to death. Most importantly…sat at the table with the ones considered the disinherited rabble.

Not only did he “lay down himself for his friends” in the truest sense by going to the cross; he laid down himself over and over again to heal and treat people with the respect and the dignity and love for the other person.

Because this is the love that God has for all of us. And Jesus wanted the whole world to know it.

That message is just as true now as it was some two thousand years ago.

Caring for creation means caring for all of creation…plants, flowers, animals, fish, and human beings.

As we have blessed all those things that remind us of life…may we remember that we have the responsibility to be a blessing to all others.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

"Barnabas and Baptism" A Sermon for the Feast of St. Barnabas

 I've been looking forward to the chance to celebrate our patron, St. Barnabas, at St. Barnabas for quite some time, and was delighted that his feast didn't fall on a Sunday such as Trinity or Pentecost. 

I had initally planned to do just a simple liturgy of Welcoming New Members at the time of the passing of the peace. That's when one of my new members called me over after our Trinty Sunday service.

"Do we have to be baptized to be included?" (Given that I was going to record them under "Baptized Members" the answer was obvious.) 

"I haven't been baptized."

My eyes must've grown to the size of saucers. 

"Do you want to baptized?"

"Yes!" 

"Well, let's do that next Sunday!!!" 

"I don't have to wait until the bishop comes in August?"

"No!" And my "no" probably sounded more like an "are you kidding??" I have so wanted to do a baptism.  

Then...on Saturday...another of my new members sent me an email. She didn't think she'd been baptized. 

Suddenly, we had two! I couldn't have been happier. And on the day we were going to celebrate St. Barnabas, who helped to bring Christianity to Antioch and Cyprus...perfect!

Texts: Is.42:5-12; Matt 10:7-16

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Today is a great day. Not only because we’re celebrating our patron saint… but we are bringing into the larger body of Christ two new members through baptism… and doing a formal welcome of all y’all who’ve been faithful to our congregation in attendance and pitching in to help.

Time to have you on the official team roster for St. Barnabas.

Such a joyous and happy day… and then our Gospel lesson ends with this ominous line…

“I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves…”

Yikes! Oooo-Kaaaaay.

What’s all that about, and what does that have to do with St. Barnabas… the man and our beloved namesake?

Well…a look at his life and ministry might give us a few clues.

Barnabas…whose name means “Son of Encouragement” wasn’t born with that name. He was a Levite…that was the priestly clan in Judaism. He was born in Cyprus… and was named Joseph. The apostles gave him the name “Barnabas” in recognition of his generous commitment to their cause. According to the story told in the Fourth Chapter of Acts…Barnabas sold a field that he owned and turned over all the proceeds to the apostles. He was the one responsible for bringing the newly-converted Paul to the apostles and convinced them that Paul had changed his ways and was no longer a persecutor of the followers of Jesus.

Barnabas would head off to Antioch and would later ask Paul to join him. Together… they began the Jewish outreach to the Gentile populations in the region…and… as we heard in the reading from Acts… that was the beginning of when Jesus followers would be called “Christians.”

Paul and Barnabas had some interesting moments as they went about the missionary work of famine relief.

They started in Jerusalem…went back to Antioch and from there…they were sent on their way to Cyprus. When they were in Lystra, the people mistook them for gods. They believed Paul with his eloquent speaking abilities was Mercury, the messenger of the gods.

Barnabas was Jupiter, the chief of the gods. Scholars think that speaks to Barnabas’ commanding presence.

Unfortunately…Paul and Barnabas would have a falling out over Barnabas’ cousin…the disciple Mark…known as John Mark. Paul didn’t think John Mark was showing enough commitment to their ministry…and Barnabas wanted to give him a second chance.

Their disagreement was so contentious that they decided they could no longer work together.

Paul found another partner…Silas…and went back to the churches he and Barnabas had founded together in Asia Minor.

Barnabas and Mark went on to Cyprus…where Barnabas is honored as the founder of that church….and that is where he would die as a martyr.

We can hear in this history that Barnabas did spend a lot of time going in the midst of uncharted territories to bring the message of Jesus…one that aligns with those words of Isaiah:

“I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,

to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.”

While he may have encountered difficulties with others outside of the circle of the church… the proverbial wolves…Barnabas found that sometimes… the toughest challenges come from fellow sheep.

I think that remains true in our own times.

Many times… some of our most intense conflicts and disagreements arise with own families.

Christianity’s history is full of arguments…and splits…over any number of things.

The good news about the disagreement between Paul and Barnabas is that neither of them let their personal disagreement get in the way of their work.

The mission of bringing to people a God of love…and liberation from the darkness that clouds the mind.

In fact…even after their split…Paul told the church in Corinth to keep supporting Barnabas in his work. And I gotta admit I love that our patron saint is the one who wanted to give his disciple cousin a second chance. That shows not only love but a good dose of patience.

I think there’s a lesson there for all of us.

Whatever personal disagreements we might have with one another…our mission…as beloved children of God…ought to be about bringing more love…more compassion into a world that needs that message.

I think that’s vitally important today.

Because there are those in our society who are working against that mission of God.

They keep pushing a narrative that this group or “those people” are to be banned or kept out…and we need to be afraid of “them.”  

Fear is their way to keep us apart…black and white… gay and straight… immigrant and native…and to prevent us from seeing each other as connected and interdependent on each other. Anyone who is different not only can’t be trusted…we need to silence them.

In a few moments…when we do the baptisms… all of us will be asked to recommit ourselves to the basic covenants of our faith. We will be called upon to “seek and serve Christ in all persons…loving our neighbors as ourselves.” All persons does not come with asterisk. We don’t get to opt out and only care for those who look like us… have the same beliefs as us.

Likewise…we will be asked “to strive for justice and peace for all people and respect the dignity of every human being.” Again…not just our own kind; all of humankind. We are making the commitment that Barnabas had to be one who encourages everyone… and seeks a world where all systems and people…provide a justice and peace that lifts up those who feel themselves being kicked around…and dismissed by the world around them.

As the people of St. Barnabas…we make that commitment with God’s help…and trusting that God will help us as God helped Barnabas…to show that love to the world.

May each of us take into our hearts that spirit of baptism and do our part to be that light of Christ in our communities. 

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

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 The history portion of this sermon on the life of St. Barnabas from "Holy Women/Holy Men."

 

 

 

 

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!

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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)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meeting Jesus in the Parking Lot

 

It was a cold and icy night (really...it was!) in Alexandria. I had just driven up the street from the seminary to pick up a wonderful meal prepared with love by an Afghani refugee. It was not just dinner for me: she had prepared meals for others in the dorms who are left to fend for themselves on Saturday night.

As I climbed out of my car, I heard a shout. It was a man walking into the parking lot toward me. At first, I thought it might be one of my fellow seminarians. But as he came closer, I saw he was a middle-aged Chinese man. He was motioning with his hands and pointing to his head and ears. I couldn't tell if he was deaf or what was going on, and the COVID protocols of mask-wearing wasn't making things any easier. He opened his phone and showed me an address: 3221 Duke Street, Alexandria, VA 22314.

OK. I asked if he was trying to get to that address. More wild, nonsensical arm motions, as if he was shoveling or something. Shoveling? Circle? Huh?

I typed out the address where he was on my phone. He squinted, read it, and looked exasperated. He started making more circles. He made a motion like eating.

"Are you hungry?" He shook his head no. Some more gestures that told me nothing.

"I'm really sorry," I said, holding a bag of Afghani dinners in the freezing drizzle. "I don't understand what you're asking. Are you trying to get to that address?" More pointing at his head, circles, shoveling.

Feeling terrible both that I couldn't understand his arm motions, and that I was holding other people's dinners that were getting colder by the second, I finally motioned for the man to follow me. I tried to get him to come inside at least the common room area of my dorm (to stay warm). He wouldn't, so I told him to stay outside and I would be right back. He started calling someone (all the names on his phone were Chinese symbols). I quickly ran to the rooms of people waiting for their dinners. It was reduced to a knock on the door and leaving the food outside their door as if they were all on quarantine. I found the man waiting for me as I was on the way to the last dorm. I stopped again to see if he was able to reach someone. Clearly, no.

"Do you want me to drive you to that address?" He pointed to me, then to himself. I figured this was the best we were going to do to get to "Yes, that's what I need you to do for me." I told him to wait one moment, ran the food up to the last person, and on the way out, I alerted a classmate to what was about to happen. Living in Florida, I am extremely cautious about taking men I don't know in a car. I wasn't scared. Just cautious.

I plugged in the address to Waze. He also showed me a video he had shot of the destination.

"Ah, OK!" It was Alexandria Commons. I knew exactly where we were going.

As we drove there, someone called him back. An animated but relieved sounding Chinese conversation ensued. Then he held the phone toward me.

"Hello? Do you speak English?" Obviously, no. The woman passed the phone to someone else.

"Hello? You are with our friend?"

"Yes, I am driving him to 3221 Duke Street."

"Oh, thank you! Yes, we're a restaurant. Thank you! Can we give you something to eat?" I tried to decline, but they insisted, so I asked for a noodle dish.

When we arrived he (and the chef and the hostess) were all very happy. He insisted on having a couple of selfies with me. They were insisting on me having dinner on the house.

The hostess, who was a young Asian woman named Amy, wanted to know where I found their friend.

"He wandered onto the campus of the Theological Seminary." She noticed my ID card which was hanging outside my coat. From there, we determined that he had gotten turned around trying to find his way to the restaurant. Turns out that he lives in one of the large apartment complexes way up at the other end of Seminary Road. Amy was so happy that I agreed to drive him on a night when nobody wants to be on the road.

"I was going to drive to Baltimore this evening," she told me, "but it's too icy."

"Oh, no. This is not a night to drive to Baltimore!"

As I was leaving with my food, Amy wanted to know if I work at the seminary.

"No, I'm a student."

"Oh? What are you studying?"

"Well, I'm preparing to become an Episcopal priest."

"Oh! So, is that like Catholic?"

"Well, sort of. We left the Roman Catholic Church a long time ago. We're the Episcopal Church."

I thanked them for the food in the only Chinese I know learned from watching too much "Sagwa" on PBS. My grateful friend followed me back out to my car for one more selfie. And we waved good-bye.

Despite language barriers, the language of God is love...which tonight came in the form of rescuing a lost man, delivering him to his friends, and a very delicious noodle dish for dinner from grateful people. My Afghan meatballs, for which I am also grateful, will wait for tomorrow's lunch.

Small Acts of Radicalism and Love

I live in the southeastern United States which, after the 2016 Presidential election, I have dubbed "The Red States of America." The electoral map had a big red mass in the lower right hand corner of the map. And that's where I live, move, and have my being. 

Life here has been intense. As I noted in my prior entry ("Love, Now More than Ever") I have been on edge traveling through south and central Georgia. I have seen postings from people in the Peach State that have made my skin crawl. Pictures of pick up trucks touting Trump's win and what that will mean for "fat dykes." Stories of children worried that they or their families will be deported or "sent back to Africa." A barista shared with me that her boyfriend, who looks like a typical southern red neck,  was heckled by car full of anti-Trump protestors as he was outside in his Tallahassee neighborhood. Of course, they didn't know that he was also anti-Trump. A classic moment of judging a book by its cover...or a southern guy by his beard.

It's also gotten ugly over how best to show support to people who are feeling threatened and scared about the incoming administration. A small gesture, fastening a safety pin to your clothes to indicate "You are safe with me" can kick up a firestorm from both sides. Those on the right ridicule and scoff at the gesture and accuse the wearer of fomenting division in the country. Those on the left ridicule and scoff at the gesture as white people attempting to assuage their white guilt about electing a white supremacist to the highest office in the land. Never mind that the people sporting the pin are more likely than not Clinton voters. The pin has become a prickly point in these parts.

I guess it might be too much to ask those on the left to consider that maybe, just maybe, the people sporting pins are making a commitment to always stand up against bigotry and prejudice and that this has nothing to do with their own feelings, and more to do with their empathy for the oppressed. Perhaps it's time for the left to stop attacking its own people simply because, unconsciously, it's easier to beat up on fellow liberals than to face the anger, hostility and meanness of their true opponents on the right.

I have found myself taking hits from people on both sides. To be both queer and Christian puts me in a perpetual place of vulnerability. 

What does that mean today, to be a person who is among the targeted and despised and yet professes a belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God? The people on the right reject me and my relationship and are ready to roll back all the civil rights gains the LGBTQ+ community have made and put me into conversion therapy. The people on the left have called me the equivalent of a Hitler-loving Jew for attempting to live into my calling to stand with the oppressed while always looking for ways to soften the hearts of those who right now seem so hard and fast in their hatred of me and my kind. In other words, to be queer and Christian at this time is to become even more in tune with what it means to follow Christ. As I've said, it's easy to say you love Jesus; it's a whole different thing to actually follow him into these impossible places to do the work that bridges gaps and attempts to raise up people rather than continuously drag them down. 

With this Sunday being the last Sunday of Pentecost, or Christ the King Sunday, listeners in the pews of Episcopal churches will hear a gospel lesson in which Jesus, hanging on the cross between two criminals and being mocked and scorned, says, "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." From one side, Jesus gets more abuse from a convict; on the other side, he hears his fellow death row inmate come to his defense and beg for remembrance and mercy. Fast forward many centuries and place this scene in a contemporary context, I can see my queer Christian self being similarly taunted and disrespected and tested. I can feel the frustration and pain of seeing how totally screwed up the scene is around me (a man who was endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan and NO major newspaper wins the presidency?) and yet I am, by hook or by crook, required to be in relationship in the world with people who supported this man while not making peace with his oppression of me or others. "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." Really? Did they not know who they were electing? Sadly, strangely, it seems some people would not take the Republican candidate's incendiary talk on the campaign trail seriously. The rationale is "he didn't really mean all that stuff  about Mexicans, immigrants, Muslims." I'm not sure how one believes his economic plans while ignoring his troubling rhetoric about the many minority groups and his lack of respect for women. But it has been done. The votes were cast. So now what? How do I go to the communion rail with people who will not see the damage done with all the name-calling and whipping up unwarranted fears about "the others" of our society? "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing...." 

There are some who are among the unreachable. They've tapped their inner fear button through the right wing medium machine so many times that it's become as addictive as any drug. But there are those who are not the totally lost. These are the people I hope to reach with remaining as a presence of Love so that they might see the need for them to join in the work to prevent the spread of fear and to stop the violence--verbal and physical--that is already happening in the wake of this election. 

In the meantime, for those who have genuine fear, I am wearing my safety pin in the Red States of America to be an outward and visible sign of a willingness to speak up against the hatred that is swirling around them in the world. It is a small, yet radical, act of love and an assurance that I will not leave my brothers and sisters behind. Together we will stand on the side of love.