Baptized for Hope

 

Summer time and the preaching is not easy. Neither the Letter to the Romans nor the Gospel were particularly "easy" texts. And with the way things are in our American society, with a president and his regime who are dedicated to disruption and discord, it is very hard to wrap my mind around themes of "hope" and "love" while acknowledging that all is not right and good on the other side of our Episcopal red doors.

It is further complicated by knowing where I am in the country: in a place where my little congregation is one of the few that isn't a church ascribing to the white Christian Nationalist mindset, while surrounded by those who do.

Every week feels like a tightrope walk. And I keep stepping carefully.

See what you think.

Texts: Romans 8:12-25, Matt 13:24-30, 36-43

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One of my most favorite services in the Episcopal Church is baptism.

I love it when we get to formally welcome people into the larger Body of Christ…and celebrate with them as they’re brought into this greater connection through the symbol of water...and invited to participate fully in the meal served at this table.

And I love that we all get to take part in that welcome.

We not only rejoice with those who we are baptizing…we also get to speak to our own place as children of this Love that is God.

We make promises to keep doing the work that comes with our inheritance…to keep praying…keep loving… and keep striving for justice and peace.

Baptism is our ritual to mark a person joining a new family…taking on a new identity and becoming another one of our siblings.

And that can be particularly important to people who may have felt caught off from their families of origin for one reason or another.

That feeling of belonging is vital to our mental well-being.

Baptism not only means we gain some new aunties and uncles in the church.

We are also being adopted as beloved children of God…marked and sealed as Christ’s own forever and handed that light of Christ to burn in our hearts and lead us to being good stewards in our communities.

We’re grafted into a larger family tree that is bigger…broader…and filled with the hope that our branch of this tree will produce really good fruit.

That’s a lot of what Paul is driving at when says,

“For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ-- if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”

If that sounds good to us…it was even more important to the members of the emerging Roman churches of the First Century.

These churches were made up of Jews and non-Jews who were mostly living on the  margins of the Greco-Roman society.

Some were recently freed slaves…some not even native to Rome.

The ways of the Empire hadn’t changed much from the time of Jesus’s crucifixion.

There was still a lot of classism.

And the military and well-connected held power over the labor class.

The Roman Emperors used to declare themselves to be god and expected the people to worship them.

For the Jews hearing this letter of Paul…the words to not fall back into “a spirit of slavery” recalled the story of their exodus through the Sea of Reeds as they fled Egypt into freedom.

For both the Jews and non-Jews in the churches…the feeling of adoption and belonging was a bonus.

Paul’s expression spoke to that sense of freedom from oppression…and the liberating Love of God.

“Adoption” also served as a useful tool for people who were accustomed to living under the laws of the Empire.

Under the Greco-Roman law of adoption…the family name and property could be passed on to a chosen heir…preserving the family lineage.

In fact…Emperor Augustus…not having any male heirs of his own…adopted Tiberius before his death so that he could have a successor of his own liking.

But Paul puts a twist on this adoption language.

Paul says those who become one with God in Christ have secured something even more binding.

Because God has adopted them spiritually.

And as adopted spiritual children of God…they’re now full members of this family not hung up on power plays on earth.

God has become closer to them …and this relationship is so personal that they can call God, “Father” or “Abba.”

These ordinary citizens…who did not occupy the seats of power in government…and couldn’t hold public office in some cases…are hearing from Paul that they have something better…richer…fuller.

They’ve been clothed with a different kind of sovereignty…one that has made them Christ’s adopted siblings….with an equal share of his inheritance…making them heirs to a freedom possible through Christ’s life…death…and resurrection.

This is the legacy that is passed on to us through our baptism.

To be heirs of God…and siblings of Christ…is both amazingly freeing…and it comes with some costs as well.

Because what comes with our inheritance is the same mission that Jesus was on in the world:

"To bring good news to the poor;

Sight to the blind;

To proclaim release to the prisoners

And to liberate the oppressed." –Luke 4:18-19

 

All very good and noble words to say.

Doing those works…stepping outside of our comfort zones and striving for a more just and equitable society is not easy.

It involves working together…even with those we don’t always agree with on everything…in the hope of making a difference that we may or may not ever see in our lifetimes.

It means taking a good long hard look at what’s happening around us and doing the work of discernment about what we see and having that vision of what could be better.

It’s like what Jesus is saying in our Gospel lesson about wheat and weeds.

Again…just a little bit of background here to understand this.

There was a weed…called darnel…that was very toxic…and grew in the climate of the Middle East.

It closely resembled the wheat crops of Palestine…and would shoot up between the wheat. 

Farmers had to be careful to tell the difference between the good wheat and the darnel as they did their harvesting…otherwise they’d ruin their harvest.

So just as Paul used the ideas of “slavery” and “adoption” to make a point…Jesus is using this agricultural metaphor to caution those eager to kick out anyone they thought wasn’t worthy or a “real” follower of the Way.

This is important for all of us to remember…particularly right now as we live in a culture where there is so much coming at us on a daily basis and attempts to get us to turn on one another…scapegoating communities and people for problems that require much more thought and attention to address.

Our work is not to get into the judging business.

Our work is to get into the questioning business.

To ask why is that people are going without food and shelter?

What factors contribute to some places receiving resources and others not?

How do we break some of these cycles and work toward a better society for all people regardless of their race…ethnicity…identity or other factors?

The fact that inequities still exist means that we have an obligation to keep asking the questions…and pursuing the solutions.

This is how we live fully into our baptisms…and how we make good use of our inheritance as the adopted beloved children of God.

This how we keep hope alive not only for ourselves…but for the generations to come.

In the Name of Our One Holy Undivided Trinity.

Liberally Sharing of Grace

It doesn't happen often, but this week was one where I just couldn't wrap my mind around any of the assigned Scripture readings. Nothing was breaking through...until I happened to listen to the reflection offered by the Rev. Canon Dana Corsello at Washington National Cathedral. Listening to her words, and then looking at the Scriptures, I finally found what was there the whole time: God's grace is abundant, it goes wherever it wants, and when we accept it and live by God's love...we can offer that same grace to others.

At least that's what I got out of all my wrestling and struggling. And it sure beat talking about Jacob and Esau and red lentil stew.

See what you think. 

Text: Texts: Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23, Romans 8:1-11

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I recently heard a story told by one of the priests at Washington National Cathedral that seemed relevant to our readings today.

She was talking about scrolling through Instagram and reading the experience of a Japanese Soccer fan who had come here for the World Cup.

 But this wasn’t about the soccer games.

This was about eating at a Mexican restaurant.

This man had never been to the States before…and so he was unaware of some of the customs of hospitality that we take for granted.

He’s in this Mexican restaurant….and places his drink and food order.

He’s talking with his friends when the basket of chips and salsa arrive.

Confused…he stops the waiter.

Motioning to the basket he says, “We did not order this.”

“It’s OK,” says the waiter, “They come with the table.”

The Japanese man was awe struck.

These chips…this overflowing basket of chips with salsa…comes with the table?

In his post…the man went on to talk about the cultural difference…the fact that in Japanese restaurants…the idea of giving food away for free was a foreign concept.

His post went on to note that after they’d finished the first basket of chips …My goodness! Another basket of free chips arrived.

Chips for free.

Without asking.

And accompanied by what he called a sampling from the seemingly bottomless well of salsa.

This experience seemed to rival any sort of awe-inspiring play on the soccer pitch!

Something good… hospitable…for free.

Aside from the feeling of goodwill we can get from seeing a foreigner enjoy the perks of eating at a Mexican restaurant in America….this story makes for a great analogy about the nature of God’s grace.

Like chips and salsa that come with the table…

It’s free.

It’s abundant.

We don’t need to earn it and we can’t buy it.

We just need to be willing to accept it and let it fill us up.

And because we’re filled with such grace… and because of grace we have experienced this sense of freedom…we are more able to share it with others.

That is the hope…the dream… that God has for us.

This is similar to the sower…going about…freely tossing seeds here…there and everywhere.

It doesn’t matter if it’s the right time of year… or the best season… or the most ideal soil.

These seeds are going to get thrown because that’s what the sower does.

In this case…our “sower” is Jesus.

The “seeds” he’s spreading are his teachings…his healings…his kindness…all the Love…the grace of God…that is within him.

He’s using this metaphor of a sower to a people familiar with this farming practice.

Unlike today…where farmers carefully measure the acidity of soil…and plan and rotate crops…the farmers of ancient Palestine used this scattering method…knowing that some plants would grow… and others would not.

So Jesus’s audience would at the very least grasp this image of a sower.

Whether they understood it as meaning the spreading and growing of God’s Love… and could take in that message… was another matter.

For some…they hear it and don’t care…or they care too much about other things.

These are the ones who want power over others…or more money... and prestige.

They don’t want to receive this gift…especially if it means changing their outlook…and becoming a person who cares about the well-being of others.

This is what Paul is driving at in his letter to the Romans with his talk about “flesh” and “Spirit.”

They’ve set their hearts and minds on the “things” of the world that might bring about instant gratification…but will not serve them in the long run.

Now I know a lot of people find Paul’s writings to be challenging.

And yes—in our 21^st century ears—he is long-winded and his letters can lead one to think: “T-L-D-R”…the short-hand for “Too Long, Didn’t Read.”

And this one from chapter eight has been really badly  misconstrued…and has led some to believe that our bodies are bad and evil and sinful.

To sound like Paul for a moment, “Is Paul saying the human body is horrible? No! Not at all!”

Don’t forget that we are made in the image of God.

All of our limbs…ligaments…the breath in our lungs….these are all blessings given to us.

Heck—as Paul even says…Jesus took on human flesh.

And that’s an important part of what Paul wants us to hear in this portion of his letter.

It was through Jesus’s actions…both his loving ministry of mercy…compassion…and justice in the world…and going to the cross as an innocent man… that Jesus did the work of freeing our fleshy humanity from that the sin that got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden in the first place… and his actions transforms us into a new people to carry on the God’s mission.  

By living in Love…and dying in Love…and being raised again out of Love…Jesus gave all of us who were baptized…a shot at new life…new breath… and the fire within of the Spirit.

Now…sadly…this doesn’t mean that sin…the force that seeks power over others and drives a wedge between us and God and each other…is dead and gone forever.

We’re all aware of that.

Our news media reminds us of it daily.

People still hurt and abuse other people…as well as animals…and the planet.

Cancer and other diseases still claim lives.

Those holding earthly power still attempt to dominate others through violence.

There is always this perpetual struggle between those who are self-serving…and those who are joining in the mission to spread more Love…and grow up more people who want a world where everyone enjoys that grace that’s like those free chips and salsa at a Mexican restaurant.

But what Paul’s Epistle to the Romans and the Gospel lesson this morning are encouraging us to hear is that when we choose to live into the liberating life found in Christ…and when we set are sights on achieving a world where there is health…healing…and hope with unconditional love… we have a power source of the Spirit… ready to help us grow that garden of Love…and boost our efforts.

These lessons speak to how it is through God’s power working in us and through us …as a community… we can achieve infinitely more than we can ask or imagine in the mission of caring for each other.

We may live in a world where there are stony paths or  rocky soil… and places where weeds have been allowed to choke the life out of people.

But still we go. 

We may have rocky soil or thorny bushes growing in our own hearts.

But we are still loved…and encouraged to never give up on the grace that is there to help us cultivate the goodness that is within us.

If we keep doing our best with our hearts and minds fixed on Love… we can and will be able to freely sow hope out in our communities.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

Resting from Heavy Burdens

 

I realize I do a lot of critiquing of our lectionary diviners, but I do have to say, God must have had a hand in the decision to include the conclusion of Matthew 11 for the Sunday that would fall the closest to the Fourth of July celebration. 

And with this year being the 250th, it might have felt a little bit off to talk about "heavy burdens." But this semiquincentinnel has, regretfully, been like nothing I would have ever anticipated. I have vague memories of the things that happened in my hometown for the bicentennial in 1976. And the thing I remember most was that despite any misgivings in the larger culture, there was some sense of resilience and purpose and excitement about marking this moment.

None of that seemed to be anywhere this year. Most of my friends didn't even really want to acknowledge the holiday...not even with a cook out. Even the fireworks, which typically are obnoxiously loud and are going off at all hours of the day and night for weeks and days before and after the holiday were not all that this year. 

Groceries are too expensive. We're in a war nobody wanted that is driving up the cost of gasoline at the pump. And people are getting killed and disappeared off the streets of American cities in this horrible and insane crackdown on immigrants, regardless of their documented status (which, by the way, their undocumented standing doesn't make killing them warranted!) We're being lied to daily about the health and whereabouts of Republican U.S. Senator Mitch McConnell. Our president is unhinged and wanting people prosecuted for touching the algae-riddled waters of the Reflecting Pool at the Lincoln Memorial in DC. Nothing, just nothing, feels good about the USA right now.

So maybe Matthew 11 was the perfect passage for THIS Independence Day. See what you think.

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Text: Matthew 11:16-19; 25-30

 

 

“Come to me all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

This particular Gospel passage from Matthew always shows up on the Fourth of July weekend every three years.

I don’t know if the lectionary diviners did that on purpose…or if they even had the holiday in mind as they pulled together the readings we’ve heard this morning.

But on this weekend…where we’ve marked the 250^th birthday of the United States of America…this reading from the eleventh chapter of Matthew is timely and relevant.

Because it offers words of comfort to a people living in an uncomfortable time.

And if we’re being honest… that’s where we are right now…as we mark this milestone in our nation’s life story.

The community that first was reading and hearing these words from Matthew’s Gospel were a people who had been through war and the second destruction of their Temple in Jerusalem.

That loss had left them beleaguered and feeling unmoored. The whole point of Matthew’s Gospel was to give this remnant of the Jewish Christians of that time a sense that they still had a place…that God had not forgotten them…even as they saw the world around them seeming to be on fire.

This morning’s reading follows upon Jesus’s calling and sending out of the disciples.

He’s given them their marching orders…cautioning them that they won’t always be received well…but they must go anyway.

If the people will listen to them…welcome them…great. Even a cup of cold water…counts as welcome enough.

But Jesus doesn’t simply talk the talk.

He’s walking the walk…he’s on the move.

And he’s traveled to more places…continuing to preach and teach.

And…just as he had warned the disciples…he was encountering those who didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

These are people who had rejected John the Baptist because he was too demanding.

It probably didn’t help that John had called them a “brood of vipers”…basically accusing them of being people who would kill their own mother if it meant keeping their power and status.

But they don’t like Jesus either because…oh my goodness…he’s too welcoming…too inclusive…breaking bread with the despised and disinherited.

 

Now…the lectionary skips over some verses.

And that’s too bad because Jesus had some specific words for three ancient cities:…Chorizin…Bethsaida and Capernaum.

Jesus blasts the people of these three places for their unwillingness to listen and their inhospitable behavior.

These were cities of great wealth…and that excessive wealth had led to greed…and that greed had infected their hearts.

They didn’t care that Jesus was there curing their sick…and preaching God’s Love.

In fact they resented it…because it brought them up short.

Just like places such as Sodom…they had become hard-hearted and unwelcoming.

Too full of themselves.

Too proud of their own wisdom.

So self-satisfied and wanting to hoard what they had.

Too caught up in having power over others and they had no need or love for anyone different…the foreigners.

Sadly…this is a critique that could be laid on our society today.

There are those in our country who are happy to ignore the suffering and the hardships of others.

They can’t be bothered with what’s happening to the so-called “little people.”

They’ve got their affairs in order and they don’t care what happens to the next generation.

From courtrooms to state Capitols…all the way up to the highest levels of government…we’ve been witnessing the stripping away of the dignity of those seen as “other.”

We’re even now questioning who belongs…to whom of those born here do we guarantee the inalienable rights of life…liberty…and pursuit of happiness?

The powerful have been flexing their muscles against the immigrants…the working class…the elderly…and the minorities…many who are the descendants of the very people who have helped build this country for 250 years.

What has become of a country…with a landmark such as the Statue of Liberty…emblazoned with words,

“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free….”?

Have we become the new Chorizin…Bethsaida…and Capernaum…having accumulated so much wealth that we have grown so proud and cold too?

In this land of E Pluribus Unum…we seem to be less “unum” and more siloed into our own tribes…viewing each other with suspicion if not outright hostility.

This separation is contributing to the loneliness in society.

And the loneliness leads to us feeling wearier and more worn out than ever.

Jesus not only has some words for those who are pulling us apart… but he also has something to say to those who are struggling.

 “I will give you rest.”

He’s not telling us to ignore the exhaustion we might be feeling.

He’s not asking us to make excuses or apologies for the load we’re bearing.

He’s not telling us to avoid it… nor is he giving us a magic pill to make it all better.

Instead… he names it.

He acknowledges what it is: heavy burdens.

He knows that the attitude of those who think they have it all…the ones who say they have no need to live into the mission of loving the stranger…visiting the friendless… and caring for the vulnerable…these are the ones who have made our lives harder.

He sees our struggles and says, “Let me give you rest.”

“Come to me” with your worries.

“Come to me” with your pressures.

“Lay these things on me…let me help carry this load.”

“I will meet you in this place of your inner turmoil and tiredness…and I will show you kindness…rest and renewal.”

This invitation to rest is Jesus’s way of reaching out to us and reminding us that none of us has to nor should we try to do this life journey alone.

He’s prompting us to lean into our faith…and not stiffen our backs hoping to grit things out during trying times.

Name this weight…these burdens…and say, help.

And we know this is the way.

These are the things that we all know and have done before.

Think of how we respond in times of crisis.

When the recent hurricanes tore up sections of Lowndes County…restaurants responded with preparing and serving food…and neighbors checked on neighbors.

When the medical students from Georgia universities come to this area to offer clinics for the migrant farm workers… our Episcopal churches help to feed these up and coming healthcare professionals and we send them off with the leftovers to share with their clients.

I think about the way that sports help to pull people together…perfect strangers…setting aside differences as we cheer on our team and celebrate accomplishments.

I’m a Boston Celtics fan…and yet I couldn’t help but smile and rejoice with New Yorkers when their Knicks won the N-B-A Championship for the first time in 53 years.

When we remember that we are all one…brought together into a human family in Christ…and all children of a loving…life-affirming…and liberating God…that’s when the heavy burdens we bear become lighter.

Together…we can learn from each other…lean on each other…and grow together…rejoice when things go well…and give aid in times when we need help.

That’s how Love works wonders in the world.

I want to leave us with these words by James Weldon Johnson from the hymn “Lift every voice and sing.” It’s the third verse of the hymn and captures the spirit of this Gospel message:

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears

Thou who has brought us thus far on the way

Thou who hast by Thy might led us into the light

Keep us forever in the path, we pray.

Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,

Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world we forget Thee,

Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand

True to our God, true to our native land.

In the name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

"Love: The Essence of the Trinity"

 

Even though I had a seminarian assigned to us, and he is still serving at the altar with me on Sundays, I still went ahead and preached on Trinity Sunday.

The joke is that Trinity Sunday is one of those sermons that the senior most priest punts on and assigns to the younger associate. Nobody really wants to tackle the doctrine of the Trinity in a sermon. And I'm not sure how many in the congregation are that interested. 

However, it is billed as "Trinity" Sunday; so to say nothing would also seem a little strange. 

As I told one of our members, since I am part-time and therefore don't really have the time to do all the weekly classes and other activities normally done by the priest, I use my preaching time to drop in some teaching. That's what I did here with this sermon. 

And the direction in which I moved gave me a chance to say, once more, an important truism about God in this particular moment in the life of the less-than-United States of America. See if you catch it.

Texts: Gen. 1:1-2:4a, BCP

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If we crack open the Bible…and go looking for an entry titled “The Holy Trinity,” we won’t find anything.

Yes, we find words about God the Father.

We know Jesus as the Son of God.

And just last week, we were celebrating the God the Holy Spirit.

Even though our Gospel names these three…there’s nothing that calls them the “Holy Trinity.”

Open the Book of Common Prayer…and we find in the historical documents in the back of the book that Article One of the 39 Articles adopted by the General Convention of 18-01 tells us:

“There is but one living and true God, everlasting, without body, parts, or passions; of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness, the Maker and the Preserver of all things both visible and invisible.  And in unity of this Godhead is three Persons, of one substance, power, and eternity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”

Or there’s the Creed of Athanasius…which goes to great lengths to outline the Trinity…as “one Person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Ghost…but this Godhead is all one…the Glory equal…the Majesty co-eternal.”

I’ve heard sermons…and I’m sure you have too…where a preacher attempts to take all that language and put it into a visual or some concrete concept.

The Holy Trinity is like a three-leaf clover.

The Holy Trinity is like water…which can be liquid, or frozen, or vapor.

The Holy Trinity is like the sun…star…light…and heat.

All this to attempt to explain and defend a doctrine first articulated by the early church father Tertullian who minted the expression of the Trinity as God in Three Persons.

Tertullian was defending the Chrisitan understanding of God’s three-fold nature against those who insisted that God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit were all the same one person without distinction in their form.

Tertullian insisted that God was one with three distinctions…but what the three shared was the same one essence.

His writings on the Trinity would later become the basis for the Council at Nicaea developing the credal statement that we still say to this day.

That’s a very quick lesson on church history and where to find the Holy Trinity on paper.

Because we humans seem invested in certainty…and rationality.

But really… all of these are noble attempts to intellectualize…synthesize…and boxed-in something that ultimately can’t be “understood” in that way.

To understand the Holy Trinity comes down to how we experience and relate to God…as that one Essence:

And that one essence is Love.

Love…as the hymn writer Benjamin Webb says, “O love…how deep…how broad…how high.”

We can see that when we look at the Genesis reading from this morning with this first creation story.

And yes—we have two: this one and the one that follows with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

We hear in this version:

In the beginning…when things were all an indistinguishable mish-mash of stuff…God looked at this chaos and began… speaking.

Not with violent words…or angry commands…or even with force.

God speaks…God breathes out in quiet…gentle…tones “Let this happen.”

Let there be light and dark.

Let there be sky and sea.

Let there be sun and moon and stars.

Let there be fruits and plants.

With each breath…with each invitation…all fell into place…as one beautiful masterpiece.

C.S. Lewis in “The Magician’s Nephew” imagined this Genesis moment as a song that his God character…the lion Aslan…sings creation into existence.

Again…not with some loud clanging noises or even an especially melodious tune.

But a mostly wordless song of various tones…deep bass notes that seem to come from unknown depths…causing lush fields of grass that covered the ground and ran up the mountains…trees emerging from the earth and eventually animals and two-legged creatures appearing.

A different musical imagination of “the beginning.”

As the Genesis writer describes this work of creation…we can see God forming this world in an intentional and interdependent way.

First make the habitat…the seas…the sky…the land with vegetation.

Now bring about the life forms…sea creatures and birds…wild animals.

Finally…God makes human beings.

All of these dependent on each other…living in relationship to each other.

And it was the creation of humanity where our church father Tertullian said he could find the scriptural evidence of the Trinity.

The text…even in Hebrew…has God using a plural pronoun.

“Let us make humankind in our image…according to our likeness.”

God did not say “Let me do this and make them in my likeness.”

It’s us… and our…God the Three Persons…interdependent and in relationship.

They were there and they made humanity in the image of them.

And I don’t think that necessarily meant just bodies with faces…arms…and legs.

This creation of humankind…you and me…were made in the likeness of God…meaning we were created in God’s essence…from Love….out of Love…and for the purposes of Love…to Love.

To care for all these creatures.

Enjoy and nurture this planet with its lands and seas with the same love and support that brought us and all of creation into being in the first place.

Do this with Love for that Love that so loved the world that that same Love sent the Son into the world to live as one of us…give us a down-to-earth…incarnate…vision and understanding of Love…and to show us that no powers or principalities can defeat those who put their faith and trust in Love.

And this Love remains with us…as the breath in our bodies and that Spirit wind at our backs…so that we have the means to extend this Love to each other.

Not just the people who are sitting here in this room.

Treat everyone we encounter…with love…dignity…and respect.

Because this Love isn’t exclusionary.

No one nation or people are held as better than or more important to God.

This Love is universal…to those who believe and even those who don’t…and the ones who doubt.

It’s there for all…with no asterisk or black-out dates.

Love…this three-fold Love… is with us always…seeking relationship with us.

As we go out into the world…may we remember that this essence of Love which is in us…with us…and around us…is the way…the truth…and the life that we now share with others.

In the name of our Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

Don't Be Afraid: Get Rolling! An Easter Vigil Sermon

 

I don't get many opportunities to preach at locations other than St. Barnabas. So when the opportunity arose to be the preacher for our joint Easter Vigil at Christ Episcopal Church with our sister parish Christ the King, I didn't want to pass it up. Besides, having a seminarian at St. Barnabas afforded me the luxuary of NOT having to write a sermon for Maundy Thursday...something I knew my fellow clergy were going to have to do. 

It also helps that I love the Easter Vigil. Yes, it's long service. But it is also the culmination of everything we've been building towards through Lent, and there's something so magnificent about starting in darkness and then throwing on all of the lights to shout, "Alleluia!" 

I was pleased that this sermon was very well received, and they enjoyed my sense of humor. See what you think.

Text: Matthew 28: 1-10

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As I was looking over our Gospel reading…I found myself humming a classic blues tune first made famous by Big Joe Turner ….

Shake, Rattle, and Roll.

Because in Matthew’s depiction of the resurrection…there’s a whole lotta of shaking…and people getting rattled…and now they’re on a roll in this story.

I said this to the St. Barnabas congregation on Palm Sunday that when Jesus shows up…things get shaken up.

From the moment he entered Jerusalem…the city was in turmoil…meaning it was shaking. His presence was sending shockwaves through the community.

When he died on the cross….again…the earth shook…the curtain in the Temple was torn in two from top to bottom.

And now we have another earthquake…another earth-shattering moment.

The scene is filled with the flashing light of this angel…swooping down from heaven…to open the tomb by rolling away the stone.

The Roman guards are also shaking…and quivering in their boots.

We can imagine their terror.

I mean, this was supposed to be an easy job.

All they had to do was stand watch in front of this tomb hewn in a rock and make sure nobody tries to break in.

Little did they know that the God of Love had other plans…and that when angels are on a mission from God…they aren’t playing.

In fact…this angel put period on this whole event by sitting a top that giant stone…maybe even throwing a bit of attitude to say, “You can’t top this!”

The two Marys were also rattled by this whole thing.

This is some seriously otherworldly stuff to be happening just as the light of dawn is breaking!

The triumphant angel looks at them.

This supernatural being can see that look in their eyes…and calmly…and kindly says the most often repeated words in Scripture.

“Do not be afraid.”

“Really, dear faithful women, It’s OK.

Yes…I know I was very dramatic with that entrance…but really…come and see.

Come and see this empty tomb…see it for yourselves….Jesus is not here. God has raised him. Go and tell the others!”

The Marys take off.

They are mix of fear…with a dose of confusion…and a heavy dash of hope.

They go sprinting over the rocky terrain as the light of day keeps growing brighter.

Just as they round the corner on the path…a familiar voice calls out to them:

“Greetings!”

They stop.

They stare.

They blink several times.

Mary looks at Mary Magdalene.

Mary Magdalene’s face brightens with a smile.

Is it?

Could it really be?

With no words…the Marys move closer to Jesus and kneel down before him.

Their bodies are shaking from the adrenaline that is coursing through their muscles.

And like the angel…Jesus speaks those words of courage:

“Do not be afraid.”

Mary and Magdalene: you are my apostles to the apostles.

My beloved sisters…I am with you and will gather with all of those who ran to the four corners at Galilee. Go and tell the brothers! It’s time to roll!”

And so they ran…now powered with hope and joy and a sense of purpose…as the sun’s rays lit up their path.

A day that for them had started in darkness is now full of new light.

They have seen it for themselves: Jesus is alive! And he is with them and us now and always!

This is the story we tell every year in the church.

It’s our story…one that has given encouragement to so many over the millennia.

This is the culmination of all that we heard in the tracing of the history…the story of a God who made a cosmos out of chaos and has found a way when their appeared to be no way out from under the crushing rule of tyrants and bullies.

The God who can and will breathe new life into those who say they are too tired…too weak…too discouraged to keep pressing for a world where we care for our neighbors who live in isolation and fear and liberate people from their self-limiting doubts and depression.

The message of Easter is the confirmation that mercy…justice and compassion are the way to life…and that those who struggle against powers and principalities can turn to this word for the blessed assurance of the real truth: Love wins.

And here’s the best part: this is not just our history…and some story out a book that councils curated centuries ago.

This Easter message is our present….our now…if we are open enough to hear it…and brave enough to proclaim it.

Yes…I know…according to the rubrics…deacons are the ones that the church has given the authority to “proclaim” the Gospel.

But when we hear those words of the Gospel from the deacon…it’s not them that we’re hearing: it’s God.

And it’s the God who is Love in Action telling us to “Go!”

“Don’t just hear this Good News and think ‘Well isn’t that a fine thing that happened?’

Let these words shake us up….let them rattle about in our heads…and then let’s get rolling out there to live…and speak…and share that there is a better way to be.”

And when the deacon dismisses us at the end of our worship…sending us out in the name of Christ…that’s not an invitation to go to coffee hour…really it isn’t!

That is a directive to leave this place…and be that light of Christ in our communities.

Because the world needs to hear from us who have known and experienced a God who seeks out the marginalized…the outcasts…and the easily dismissed and ignored and puts them into the center of the story.

The God who knew that the most reliable messengers were the women who came to pay homage to their friend Jesus…and found an empty tomb…and the women who have continued to carry the message of Christ to their communities.

And the world is waiting to meet the Christian who sees the injustices that are happening and is brave enough to take a stand alongside those who are the tired and poor yearning to breathe free.

Our Easter story is one of power and purpose and building our confidence to declare that Love will win…and nothing will stop the forward movement of that Love.

And so we say with one voice…to shake…rattle and roll the rafters of this building:

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Feeling the Absence of God: A Good Friday Sermon

 Maybe it's the difficulty of the times we're living in and just the constant sense of doom and gloom that hangs over the nation that I found myself really struggling to write a sermon for Good Friday. 

I mean, it's a day that commemorates the brutal killing of Jesus by the state. And we've witnessed in this country repeated killings...both through numerous executions carried out in Florida...and the extrajudicial taking of lives by ICE in major U.S. cities. Maybe it just all felt too raw and real for me to think through the Gospel of John's telling of the Passion to want to preach about it.

And so I turned to the Psalm...number 22..."My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?"

Because that's where I am at on so many days right now.

Text: Psalm 22, John 18:1-19:42

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“My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Those must be some of the loneliest words in all of Scripture.

Psalm 22 captures the lament of those who have been on the receiving end of human cruelty.

Each verse describing that sense of what it feels like to be innocent…and yet treated with disrespect and derision.

In other Gospel passages about the crucifixion….that first verse of the psalm are the only words we hear Jesus utter from the cross.

And we can imagine why this particular psalm…believed to be written by King David…would have been on Jesus’ mind at that moment.

Because…at that hour… the crucified Jesus was truly powerless.

He was vulnerable.

And he was scared.

He’s just like us.

It would be nice to think that…as Christians and people who believe in God… we pray all the time…and regularly stay in conversation with the Holy One.

But…at least it’s been in my experience…the times when we are the most likely to turn to God in prayer is when we’re in trouble.

We might put up those prayers like Anne Lamott: a very simple Help! Help! Help!

Get me out of this situation!

And when we’re in that place…of deep worry and fear…the worst feeling is to call out our prayer…and only hear crickets in return.

It’s one thing to feel abandoned by friends…and another when it’s your family.

But to feel the absence of God….that’s harsh.

The psalmist captures that depth of the hurt we feel when it seems God is silent:

“I am poured out like water;

All my bones are out of joint;

My heart within my breast is melting wax”? (14)

While John’s Gospel doesn’t have Jesus repeating that opening line of the psalm while he’s on the cross…the evangelist does reference it when talking about those who are gloating…and taking pleasure in his pain.

The indifference and lack of empathy from those inflicting the torture makes the point about the inhumanity that the psalmist observes.

All this tracks with the way that tyrants and bullies have always behaved…especially when challenged.

And certainly Jesus posed a threat to the Roman Empire.

He has been flipping over tables in the marketplace of the Temple and exposing the whole system as corrupt and oppressive.

He’s been chastised for healing sick people…giving them the agency to walk…and to see…and leading them toward the God of Love.

He conversed with a Samaritan woman…and treated her with the dignity denied to her by others…breaking down the rift between cultures.

And when Pontius Pilate…an agent of the state known for his ruthlessness… demanded to know “What is truth?” Jesus didn’t dignify the question of his bully with an answer.

Because Jesus wouldn’t obey…because he refused to bend the knee…and kept encouraging others to see in themselves their worth in the eyes of God…he was put to death.

This pattern has been repeated throughout history.

In our own country…the black Christian theologian James Cone has challenged us to see in the cross the lynching tree…and to accept that Jesus was the first victim of such brutal hatred.

Cone sees in Jesus the body of victims of racism…the people killed for simply existing in black skin and having the audacity to think that they could live their lives in peace alongside white people.

Cone extends this out to all those who are the marginalized “others” mocked…scorned…and dehumanized by the dominant culture.

And there’s been plenty of that going around lately.

Neighbors turning on neighbors….and arrests of innocent people for the crime of being black or brown and speaking another language.

The memes passed around on social media laughing at the idea of sending people to the swampy Everglades to be alligator food.

There’s no escaping the truth of what Good Friday and the cross stood for then…and now.

It is a collision between those who choose force as a means to threaten and dominate others…acting as “the packs of dogs” who encircle those they see as “weak”…and the ones who choose power with others…non-violence… and don’t provide answers to empty questions.

Which is why it makes sense that some of our Gospel writers have Jesus turning to Psalm 22 in this critical moment at the end of his earthly life.

And we can imagine Jesus praying through the whole thing as he is dying.

Because while the psalm captures all that is wrong with what is happening in the moment…and expresses lament for the inhumanity of the situation he’s in…it also has language that provides a source of comfort and hope…that God will hear his cry and will meet him in this hour of need.

This is why when people ask me what book of the Bible I would recommend they read…I always cite the Book of Psalms.

Psalm 22 not only expresses the grief and the fear of the abyss…it’s also a life ring of promise in what is a hopeless situation…and trusts in a God who will respond to the brokenhearted.  Hear these words:

“Praise the Lord, you that fear him”

“I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him”

I can even think that Jesus clung to the psalmist echoing the sentiments that his mother declared to Elizabeth during her pregnancy:

“God does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty,…but when they cry to him, he hears them. The poor shall eat and be satisfied, and those who seek the Lord shall praise him.”

The psalmist names our pains…and doubts…and yet keeps turning back to God…believing that despite it all…God is hearing our pleas.

Did God abandon Jesus on the cross?

No…

God was there throughout…in the same way that God is with us…in us…and around us in our moments of distress as well as our joys.

Through Jesus…God has moved closer to our existence…and our struggles against the most powerful forces that try to keep us down.

Through our faith and trust in God…we can survive and weather the storms that come at us…even in these most trying times.

One day…we too…like the psalmist…will be able to speak confidently to the saving deeds that God has done.

And we will be able to declare that our times of distress are finished.

In the name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.