Give Me that "True" Religion

Photo from Sojourners (sojo.net)

For those unfamiliar with the Episcopal Church, we often begin our services with a hymn, a short prayer (called the Collect for Purity), another short song of praise or "the Gloria" and then the priest offers a prayer out of the Book of Common Prayer that is called "The Collect of the Day." 

The "Collect" (and we pronounce it CALL-ect, not co-LECT) is a prayer that is supposed to set the scene or at least summarize the themes of the Scripture readings we're going to read that morning. These collects are assigned as the "proper prayer" for whatever Sunday we're in this long season of After Pentecost. I have my favorites, and there are those which are just kind of "meh" in my opinion.

But the one for this past Sunday...to be read at the Sunday closest to August 31st (which happened to be Sunday's date)...seemed to call for me to do some teaching. Especially in this time where white Christian Nationalism is on the rise in the country.

See what you think.

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Texts: Collect for Proper 17; Luke 14:1, 7-14

I don’t often find myself guided by the words that are in our collect of the day when I write a sermon.

But there is a phrase that comes up in this one that always grabs my attention.

I should’ve known it was coming because it’s always the one we read right around Labor Day.

At the beginning of our worship… we prayed:

“Graft in our hearts the love of your Name; increase in us true religion;”

The first part…”Graft in our hearts the love of your Name” is a play on words found in the First chapter of the Letter of James.

But it’s that second part—“increase in us true religion”—those words always make me pause.

So…I went looking for some explanation…and pulled out my very worn out copy of Marion Hatchett’s “Commentary on the American Prayer Book” which has the extended history behind everything the committee studied and looked at as they created the Book of Common Prayer we now use.

Thomas Cranmer…the Archbishop of Canterbury during the reign of King Henry VIII and author of our first two Books of Common Prayer in the middle of the 16^th Century…wrote this collect.

According to Hatchett…this idea of “true religion” was likely Archbishop Cranmer’s reflection on the state of the times in the English Church back in the middle of the 1500s.

Those were bleak and dangerous times of struggles between the Roman Catholic Church with its adherence to the Pope and its beliefs about what happens at the Eucharistic table when the bread and wine are blessed… and Henry VIII’s desire to be the head of his own Protestant Church of England…taking over Catholic Church property as he divorced and killed his wives.

When Henry died…and his sickly son Edward took the throne at 10 years old…Cranmer and others solidified England as a Protestant country.

But when Edward died only about seven years later…and his half-sister Mary became Queen…she not only turned England back to the Roman Catholic Church…she went on the warpath against Protestants…including Cranmer.

There’s a reason she was called “Bloody Mary.”

Cranmer was forced to recant his protestant reformation-minded theology…but then…while in prison…he stiffened his spine and refused to deny his beliefs.

Queen Mary ordered him burned at the stake…and he famously insisted on putting his writing hand first into the fire as a further sign that he was sorry for ever having signed off on recanting Protestantism.

So…for Cranmer…”true religion” was about “church as state politics”….and “who was the more theologically correct Christian” in the struggle for national power.

We have come a long way from burning each other at the stake in Christianity. 

But we still have our own version of churches splitting…and personal prejudices masquerading as church doctrine…and pursing earthly…nationalistic goals…

 All in the name of “true religion.”

None of it seeming to pay attention to the actual teachings of Jesus…our Lord and Savior who shunned such power.

For Jesus…what makes any religion really “true” is whether we are treating creation…from the earth and the sea and the animals all the way up to our fellow human beings…as the beloved of God that we all are.

That’s what we’re hearing in this morning’s Gospel.

Now…once again…the reading we’ve heard is not complete.

The diviners of the lectionary have left out a portion of the scene.

So let’s fill in some blanks.

First thing to know is that before Jesus shows up to a sabbath meal at the home of one of the leaders of the Pharisees…a group of Pharisees went to Jesus to warn him that he faced serious danger from Herod if he went into Jerusalem.

I think it’s important to mention that because too often…we tend to see the Pharisees as “the bad guys.”

And like so many groups of people…they weren’t all bad.

Jesus encounters the Pharisees so much because they were the predominant Jewish group at the time that the Gospels were written.

In this case… there was this group that worried about Jesus and what was going to happen to him if he took on the Roman power structure.

Jesus isn’t deterred by this news.

He says some sassy things about Herod being a fox…and then laments over Jerusalem…which was the center of Jewish worship that had been so corrupted by Rome.

As he’s entering the house of the leader…he sees a man who has terribly swollen legs…dropsy or edema.

There all these Pharisees and lawyers at the house…so Jesus asks if it’s lawful to cure on the sabbath?

They don’t say anything…but Jesus does.

He heals the man and sends him on his way.

And then he looks around at the group and wants to know if one of their children or an ox fell into a well on the sabbath…would they not rescue them?

Still…they all look at him without answering.

We might imagine Jesus shaking his head at their silence as he goes inside for the sabbath meal.

Once inside…he sees that the guests of the Pharisee leader are taking all the choice seats.

Still fresh in his head that he just saw this same group standing by silently as they saw a man suffering on the sabbath…Jesus decides to do a little schooling.

And that’s where we come back to our Gospel reading…with this parable about where to sit at a wedding banquet.

The custom in ancient Palestine for a wedding was that men reclined on couches…with the couch in the center being the place of honor.

The place of honor was reserved for those with wealth and status.

If someone of a lesser station took a seat too close to the center and someone with more privilege were to show up…the lesser man would have to move…and it would be an embarrassing faux pas.

So he’s looking at this room of those who have presumed a place of honor…and warns them not to be so sure of their station.

As one commentator notes…this isn’t so much about Jesus giving First Century Miss Manners advice to his audience.

Rather he’s telling them something about the kingdom of God.

That one should not presume a more lofty place in God’s kingdom.

And then he talks about the host…and who should be invited to this meal.

Should it just be those who might be able to turn around and invite the host to equally wonderful spread?

Nope.

Blessed are those who are the forgotten…the easily ignored…like that man with dropsy who Jesus just healed and nobody knew what to say or how to appropriately respond.

Again…this is about the kingdom of God.

We can’t presume that because we have a particular status in society that we are automatically the favored ones of God.

That’s why the whole “prosperity Gospel” business…that God somehow rewards people with lots of money… is a bunch of bunk.

We see throughout Jesus’ ministry…and even here in this Gospel…that God isn’t interested in our economic systems.

God is always and forever looking to expand and widen the circle of inclusion….and is always about siding with those who have nothing to give but themselves…their brokenhearted…worn-out…overworked…and yes…even joyful… selves.  

And God’s commandment to us is to put our efforts into the building up of people…to look for those whom others are rejecting and invite them to the literal…and even the metaphorical…table of God to experience what means to be loved beyond all measure.  

Getting to know the stories of others…meeting and greeting people who aren’t our “kinfolk”…is an important part of that building up process.

The more we know another’s story…their history…and the more we openly swap our stories with one another…the stronger the foundation of community.

Both out in the world and inside the church.

I’ve mentioned before about how in an Education for Ministry seminar…one of the first exercises is sharing our spiritual autobiographies.

I can tell you that so often I would listen to someone else’s story… a person completely different from me in all kinds of ways…and yet as I listened to them talk about their experiences with God…I could hear things that made me think, “Oh, yeah: I get that!” or even a “Wow! You, too?”

Sometimes…one of the most religiously…and maybe even politically…conservative men in one of my groups would come up to me afterward and take me aside to express gratitude about things that I had shared about myself and my journey.

Like me…they could hear in something that I had said a word or a phrase that broke past all the artificial human barriers that keep us divided from one another to understand a simple truth: we’re all children of God…created by God out of Love…for the purposes of Love…with mission to share that Love with others.

Which brings me back to “true religion.”

“True religion” isn’t about holding the right belief for political power.

It isn’t about controlling the earthly levers of government…or even about asserting some kind of Christian supremacy.

“True religion” is about hope.

Hope which is found in the God who is Love.

Hope for a world where we care enough about each other…have enough empathy for those who are the have-nots…that we seek mercy…compassion…and justice for all.

The rest of our collect for this morning asks for God to “nourish us with goodness…and bring forth in us the fruit of good works.”

May we carry that prayer in our hearts as we meet the many challenges of our world.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Called to Hope

 

I love reading the call stories of the Biblical ancestors. I especially love reading them now, in a time where the United States is under the threat of losing democracy to authoritarianism and fascism. 

These stories are the reminders that we are not in some unknown, foreign weird landscape that the world has never seen before. It has. The sadness, for those of us here, is that we are used to reading about this sort of stuff happening in the past, or on some other continent. I know that when I studied German as my foreign language (and therefore was exposed to the history of Germany and the Holocaust) I resented my fellow classmates who acted as if there was something weak or intrisically wrong with the German people that we "exceptional" Americans would never be that bad. 

I knew they were wrong. I knew that human nature was such that people would rather look for scapegoats rather than to face their own failures, or in this case, see that they're regarded as cannon-fodder or-- as Elon Musk referred to the rest of us---NPCs or Non-Player Character, those computer generated "others" in a video game. Nobody likes to feel as if they're worthless. But that is how we're viewed by the tech bro billionaires.

I didn't think I would actually live to see our country fall prey to the same evil that led Germans to put their trust in Hitler, scapegoating Jews and labor unions and other minorities like gypsies and queers, and building camps that becamse killing grounds.

We don't have ovens. Yet.

Again...there is nothing new about any of this. And that includes the response of those who are the marginalized. The thing that kept the Underground Railroad running...and saved the lives of countless others who have faced evil extremists: Hope.

And that was my main message this week. See what you think.

Text: Jer. 1:4-10; Luke 13: 10-17

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Anyone who has ever felt called by God to do something always seems to have the same response.

“Really, God? Are you sure?”

Moses told God, “Listen, God: I’m a stutterer.”

God said: “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m going to send your brother Aaron with you to talk to Pharaoh.”

Mary…looked at the Angel Gabriel in disbelief when he told her she was pregnant…and she said, “But I’m a young woman. How am I supposed to have a baby?”

And Gabriel said, “Nothing will be impossible with God.”

There’s always some apprehension…a level of confusion…and a good dose of humility when God decides to pick on someone to step out of their ordinary life and take up the cause of the holy.

And in the case of Jeremiah…it was a lot of risk.

We’ll be hearing more bits and pieces from that book over the next several weeks.

But the thing to remember is that he has been tasked with warning people of an impending invasion.

Nobody really likes what he has to say.

Nobody really wants to hear what he has to say.

He’s going to be severely beaten and punished and hated for speaking the words God is going to put into his mouth.

There will be plucking up and pulling down.

Destroying and overthrowing.

His people are going to be living in exile.

So…it shouldn’t surprise us that Jeremiah’s initial reaction to this assignment from God is, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.”

A poetic way of saying, “Please God: not me. Go find someone else. Can’t you pick on somebody else for all of this?”

But even in the midst of all the tragedies…and that sense of things falling apart…God also says to Jeremiah that he is going “to build and to plant.”

From the ashes there will be new life.

Because God is not going to give up.

That is one of the most consistent themes in Scripture: in God…there is hope.

We may be ready to throw in the towel… and we may feel overwhelmed.

But thanks be to God—God does not stop the relentless pursuit of us and finding a way forward where there appears not to be one.

We get confirmation of that message in the Gospel reading from this morning.

Here’s a woman…who has clearly been in pain for years.

A “spirit” had crippled her.  

That’s the First Century science that thought any sort of ailment must be because of some kind of “sin” on the part of the sick person.

But looking at this through my eyes as a massage therapist…I think we can read this as her body telling a story of what has been going on inside of her head and her heart.

Depression can do that to a person.

I’ve seen it in my practice.

The weight of the world…troubles at home or at work…can manifest outwardly in a person’s posture.

We hear that this woman has been bent over this way for eighteen years to this woman…eighteen being the numeric value of the Hebrew word “chai” as in “life.”

Life has left her crippled.

Notice that she never asks Jesus for anything.

Yet Jesus sees her…he calls her…and he heals her.

 She stands up straight and tall and bold…and praises God for this gift…instantly becoming a witness to what happens when Love touches the wounded soul.

Of course…then a controversy ensues about healing on the sabbath…and Jesus not only defends his actions.

He shames those who would object by pointing out their hypocrisy….one might even call it their misogyny.

He notes that these naysayers think nothing of doing the work to take care of their donkeys on the sabbath.

But how dare he take care of a woman!

Is she not as important as their donkeys?

And—again—this happened without her saying anything to him or asking him for help.

She may have lost all hope that she would be cured.

But God saw her pain…and in that healing…God restored her hope.

And that’s what we’re asked to do: maintain hope…in the face of trouble and difficulty.

That’s hard work.

Every day seems like another bad news day in America with masked federal agents and civil rights getting trampled on.

In fact…one of my friends…a priest at an Episcopal church in the northwest part of DC…posted on Facebook last Sunday that he had to cancel his service that morning.

The members of his congregation…many of them Latino… were too afraid to leave their homes.

A number of us offered our love and support to him in having to make such a difficult decision.

My hope is that he’s able to hold church this morning…so he can offer love and support to his people who are so scared.

It’s hard to hang on to hope in moments like now.

But hope is that lifeline that’s thrown to us so we can weather through the difficulties and sadness and anxiety and fears.

I heard a wonderful quote this past week during my morning prayer time that I think captures the importance of hope as we live into this moment.

It’s from an essay called “The Small Work in the Great Work” by the Reverend Victoria Safford.

She was reflecting on the resilience of those early pioneers of the gay equal rights movement.

Safford writes:

“Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of hope. Not the prudent gates of optimism which are somewhat narrower.

Nor the stalwart boring gates of common sense.

Nor the strident gates of self-righteousness which creek on shrill and angry hinges.

Nor the cheerful flimsy garden gate of ‘everything’s gonna be alright.’

But a very different, sometimes very lonely place.

The place of truth-telling about our own soul…first of all… and its condition.

The place of resistance and defiance.

The piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is…as it could be…as it might be…as it will be.

The place from which you glimpse not only struggle…but joy in the struggle.

And we stand there beckoning…calling…telling people what we are seeing…asking people what they see.”

Like Jeremiah…we are being called to be witnesses to those around us…to name those things that are not good…and commit to the building and the planting when the time comes.

We’re being called to speak to what we are seeing…listen to what others are seeing…and together work to keep those mighty oak doors of hope open for all.

We can do this…with God’s help.

God’s promise to the prophets of old…to the disciples of then and now…is to give us the words to speak when we must…and to help us stand up tall when we are feeling broken.

Trust in that promise…and may the hope of God give us that joy…peace and quiet confidence that we need to meet the moment we’re living in now.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

Keeping Hope Alive in the Face of Hopelessness

 

 This is a really rough Easter season for anyone who is paying attention to news in the United States.  It is even tougher when you live in a part of the country where there are many who don't seem to want to believe that the administration currently in the White House is, well, fascist. 

This is not enviable place for those who are charged to preach hope. There are those who think we should not. That we should only live in Good Friday. 

Sorry, but I have lived through enough stuff that makes the grass grow green to throw in the towel and believe that unless I rend my clothes and sit in ashes, I am failing. 

Because even though we are in the ash heap of current events right now...I am not giving up on hope. 

I believe in the power of Love. And I believe that Love will not fail us in the end. 

See what you think.

Text: Luke 24:1-12

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Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

My mother would always call me on Easter Sunday and that was the first thing she would say. And… good Episcopalian child that I was…I knew what to say in response.

I hadn’t put a lot of thought into the power…the liberation…the absolute sense of Love having scored a major victory that is embedded into that call and response of Easter in our liturgy.

The “Alleluia” is the Greek rendering of the Hebrew phrase “Hallelujah”…a shout of joy…and yelling from the roof tops “Praise the Lord!”

Praise the Holy One for raising Jesus from the dead!

Indeed…let us rejoice and be glad in this!! Praise the Lord!

I imagine this must have been what Mary Magdalene…Joanna…and Mary and the other women were shouting as they ran to tell the eleven apostles all that they’d seen. The men were huddled somewhere…and fearfully pondering their next move.

Things up to this point had been looking bleak.

They had witnessed Jesus’ arrest.

They saw how the Empire executed Jesus …nailing him to a Roman cross.

They knew their lives were in danger.

Meanwhile…the women who had followed Jesus…also knew that there was some serious work that needed to be done.

Jesus’s burial had happened hastily.

They knew Joseph of Arimathea had taken their friend’s body…wrapped it in a linen cloth…and put in a tomb.

But because of Passover…he hadn’t taken the time to wash the body.

So the women prepared the frankincense…the myrrh…and mixed it with nard oil.

Perhaps as they put together the spices…they consoled each other…mingling their tears with this fragrant ointment.

Everything had looked so promising when they entered Jerusalem a week ago.

Jesus had filled them with such hope.

How quickly things fell apart.

They went to the tomb still in a state of shock and grief and sadness.

And when they found the stone had been rolled away…their hearts probably dropped to their stomachs.

“No, no, no. Please, no.

Wasn’t it enough to have humiliated Jesus by killing him like a common criminal?

Where is his body?

Why have they taken him?”

And as they stood there…distressed and horrified to see that his body was gone…two men suddenly appear.

The women drop to the ground.

Who were these two strangers?

Could this be their end, too?

Could these men be coming to take them away for visiting the grave of the one who had so threatened the status quo?

The jar of spices…carefully blended with love…hits the ground and spills open…filling the tomb with sweet and pungent earthiness…as these women tremble before these two unknown characters.

One of these dazzling figures offers them words of comfort and assurance:

“Mary…Mary…Joanna…it’s OK. Please…don’t prostrate yourselves. Why are looking for the living among the dead?”

We can imagine a collective gasp from the women.

“Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”

The women look around at each other.

Suddenly…the memories flood back into their heads of all that Jesus had said…everything that he had been telling his followers once he set off toward Jerusalem.

It’s all happened…just as he said it would.

He is risen!

Alleluia! He is risen!

They go to tell the men.

And…of course… the men don’t believe them.

There are some who have tried to argue that the men didn’t believe the women because Jewish men didn’t accept the testimony of women.

But New Testament scholar Amy-Jill Levine says this isn’t about sexism; this was about belief.

And as much as the male disciples said they believed…they needed help in their unbelief.

I think that’s a common issue among all of us who call ourselves Christian.

When our world gets so badly shaken…and turned inside out and upside down…our beliefs get tested to the breaking point.

Many of us are happier with concrete answers to difficult questions.

We do better with certainty than with ambiguity.

And death is a reality.

That was the same mindset of those who were these male followers of Jesus.

They knew what had happened.

They understood death.

But now these women have told them that what they thought was a fact…turned out to be a fiction.

Never mind that the women reminded them of Jesus’ promise that he would die and rise on the third day.

That’s all just talk…not reality.

Peter takes off and goes to the tomb and then confirms their story for himself.

He’s amazed.

And then he goes home.

Was this all too good to be true?

Jesus would later show himself…to the two disciples walking on the road to Emmaus …and then again to all of them as they gathered and were trying to make sense of what the women had already told them.

Jesus will open their minds to the Scriptures…and he will charge them to get out there and deliver a message of forgiveness…mercy…and love…because they have been witnesses that you can’t find the living among the dead.

Love can’t be killed.

And it will not be buried in a tomb.

Go! Get out there! Share!

I know that it’s hard sometimes to think of ourselves as evangelists…largely because that word has taken on a different and not always positive meaning in our times.

But the Easter story…this narrative that we have inherited from our ancestors…is about sticking with hope when everything seems hopeless.

And then walking alongside those who are feeling lost and afraid…reminding them that they are not alone.

Together…bound by hope…we will survive.

And when doubts arise in our hearts…as they will…return to our faith in that Source of Love who helps us to overcome our fears and guide us through those times when we feel as though we are walking a gauntlet.

Whether it’s uncertainty about the future of our job…a medical diagnosis… or even the grade on a test at school that will determine if we get to the next level of learning… our faith teaches us to not give into worry and despair when hope is always an option.

Right now… we are living at a time when it is vital for us not to keep Jesus in the tomb…but to dwell in the reality that Jesus is alive.

Tap into the liberation of knowing that Love will not be put down by the bullies and tyrants of the world…the purveyors of death… and the robbers of our joy.

Love is calling us to life.

Love is commanding us to choose life…real life.

To stand up…and keep loving…with courage…and mercy…and compassion.

When kindness is in short supply…we have faith in a God who has the means to meet the demand.

And it begins with us.

We can meet this moment…with God’s help.

May we carry this Good News in our hearts…keep hope alive…and shout it out…

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Jesus in the Crowd: A Sermon for 1C Epiphany

I did not actually preach this sermon. I wrote it. But I have come down with "the Tallahassee crud" and have been coughing and blowing my nose for 48 hours. It started with that tell-tale sign of the scratchy throat...and then blossomed into this...crud. 

Rather than getting up early to drive to Georgia and push myself to lead the service, I put out word to our retired deacon and asked her to lead Morning Prayer with Communion using our reserved sacrament (of which we had a lot of wafers so I knew we would be OK). I emailed her my sermon and told her to simply tell everyone that these were my words. That way she wouldn't have to dream up a sermon in less than 24 hours. 

See what you think. Cough. Cough. 

Texts: Isaiah 43: 1-7; Luke 3: 15-17, 21-23

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Before I start…I have to acknowledge that the references to fire in our lessons this morning have given me pause because of what’s happening in California.

I have several friends who live in the Los Angeles area…including my best friend from my childhood. I was able to reach her through a text message, and while she and her family and home are safe…it’s very much touch and go for them as there are fires on two sides of where they live.

We all know the trauma of natural disasters and can appreciate the worry and panic many of our fellow citizens are experiencing right now. So many in Los Angeles have lost their homes and businesses and places of worship. So please keep them in your prayers.

Images of water and fire are fairly common in Scripture…and our daily lives.

We hear the prophet Isaiah promising to those who have been traumatized that God is with them…helping them “pass through waters” and not letting the “fire burn them.” God is the protector and the shield from the dangers and horrors that the people have had to endure.

These are people who have suffered a hostile take over and exile from a foreign empire.

And Isaiah is now serving as the prophet of comfort to the faithful survivors…reminding them that despite all appearances to the contrary…God is still with them so keep going.

It’s important for us to know this background because it is this history that is in the DNA of all those people coming out to John to be baptized in the Jordan River.

There’s a reason we hear Luke say that “the people were filled with expectation.”

All of these people…including the ones that John was probably shocked to see…the tax collectors and soldiers and even some Pharisees…they all have this shared history of having been conquered and uprooted and threatened by tyrannical forces.

They are the descendants of that surviving cluster from centuries earlier.  

The ones Isaiah was comforting.

They’ve heard the stories of their ancestors…the promises that all in this life is not in vain if they keep hoping…hope beyond hope…that there will be a Messiah.

They’re looking for that one sent to save them from their current misery living under the Roman Empire.

But John isn’t it.

And he knows it’s not him.

But even John isn’t without hope. Because he has faith and trust that there is someone coming who will be that great one. And that’s what he promises to them.

Now…once again…the crafters of our lectionary have decided to drop some verses from this Gospel reading…and so I am going to add them back in for you.

Because…just like with the story of the wise men and Herod…it’s critical for us to know that in the middle of this scene of lots of people seeking to turn their lives around and heed John’s message to basically “get right with God”…John is doing all of this with some serious risk.

When Herod sought out John…John took that opportunity to speak the truth to the powerful ruler.

He told Herod that his marriage to Herodias…who had been married to Herod’s brother Phillip…was both immoral and illegal…and that as Jewish leaders go…Herod was a brute and an abusive jerk.

This Herod comes by his immorality honestly.

 He’s the son of the King Herod who wanted to find the young Jesus so he could kill his rival.

Folks: The Herods are not a nice Jewish family.

The truth hurts…and for John…it would cost him first his freedom…and eventually his life.

That’s what happens to the one who announces that there’s a greater person coming…that one who would threaten the power structures in ways that should make them sit up and take notice.

Why does this matter?

Because it is the reminder that this time of Jesus was not a tranquil time.

And in times of threat…when we feel a sword of Damocles hanging over our heads…that’s when Jesus shows up.

And interestingly….not in a grand way…with a fanfare of trumpets or riding in on a white horse to save the day.

Luke’s description makes us see that Jesus was one with all the people getting baptized on that particular day.

In the midst of all these people…with their expectations…driven and sustained by the hope that someone…oh, please God…someone will see them…

know them…

recognize them…

and remember them in the middle of this time when the powerful seem to have the upper hand on everything…

there is Jesus…already with them.

The one praying.

The one on whom the Holy Spirit descended as a dove…the one that voice whispered, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

He’s there!

He was not called Messiah.

He was called Son. Beloved.

This one.

This child of God…has had his own epiphany. His own understanding of who he is and whose he is.

And for us…it’s a reminder not only that God is with us at all times…especially in the times when we are feeling the outside pressures of the world getting us down.

It also speaks to the message that I think we are sometimes reluctant to accept.

That the God who…in Jesus has drawn earth and heaven closer together…can be found with us and in us today.

It kind of reminds me of the Joan Osbourne song from the mid-90s…where she contemplates “what if God is one of us…a slob like one of us…just a stranger on the bus…trying to make his way home.”

The lyrics challenge us to think about the God incarnate….and to consider our understanding of God’s close relationship to humanity.

So close that God might be standing with us in the crowd…and we might not even know it.

If we take our faith seriously…and not literally…can we imagine that through our baptism…we are made siblings by Christ…and with Christ…and in Christ?

That being brought through those waters we are carry a piece of Jesus in us?

Jesus is part of our story…our tradition…our way of seeing the world.

And he shows us how to be family…a human family.

When look at the stranger…we are to seek and serve them as if they are part of our Christian family…whether we know them to be or not. 

As we move into this season of Epiphany…our Scriptures will continue to challenge us to both look for that light of Christ in others…while also seeking to find that same light within ourselves.

Because it’s there…waiting for us to keep the oil filled…

trim the wick…

and let it burn brightly…

for justice…for mercy…and to keep us walking humbly with God.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

  

Dreaming: A Sermon for 2C Christmas

 

I've been having a LOT of dreams lately. Many of them I would classify as nightmares. 

I'm being chased, hunted down, by agents of the state. Or I am frantically trying to get others to places of safety as if I am some kind of 21st century Harriet Tubman. 

I associate all of this with the sword of Damocles hanging over the head of the country as we prepare for the sequel to the first DJT administration (I purposely do not use his full name as naming has power). I am dreading this administration, especially since I live in Florida where we have been experiencing the trial run of much of the MAGA agenda. It promises to be punishing, and the further one is away from the 'accepted norm' of heterosexual white male with money, the more painful it is going to be. 

We've already seen version one of this administration, marked by cruelty and chaos. It ended with a violent coup attempt on January 6, 2021, to stay in power. Don't let anyone tell you that the thousands who marched on the U.S. Capitol armed with bear spray and flag poles sharpened into bayonets were just typical tourists on a peaceful visit to the seat of our national government.

It is into this stark reality that I, and every priest, pastor, and preacher who attempts to follow the model of the Jesus found in the Gospels of the New Testament, find ourselves. 

My seminary taught us that we must "Seek the Lord, come whence it may; cost what it will." That's the inscription on my class ring that I wear every Sunday as a reminder that I am part of a community without borders with my classmates as we labor in our particular vineyards. I know that, for me, I am tasked with both speaking the truth of the Gospel, teaching not only the context of its story but finding in that story something that resonates with our current times. And when the current times are feeling uneasy I must return to the Gospel, go back to the Jesus who knew trouble and terror and bullies and tyrants...and still stood for the hope and the love that is beyond the reach of anyone to tear it down and destroy it..unless we give in to our fears. 

There's a reason the phrase, "Do not be afraid" gets said so often in both the Old and New Testaments!

How's that for a set up for this particular sermon? See what you think.

Text: Matthew 2:13-15; 19-23

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How many here dream?

And how many of you remember your dreams?

Dreams and dreaming are fascinating.

Scientists who study dreams say that when we dream…our brains are on fire.

While the rest of our body is relaxed and regenerating for the next day…our brains are whirring and stirring and processing bits of information that we have taken in during our waking hours and creating ways to deal with emotions or whatever is going on in our inner world.

For me…I know the dreams that I remember are usually the ones that feel super real or are profound in sometimes good and challenging ways.

I remember one dream that I had some years ago that I turned into a short film for one of my seminary classes.

I was sitting outside somewhere in Tallahassee.

The scene quickly shifted and I was transported to one of the courtyards of St. John’s Episcopal Church.

Suddenly…I saw a flash of light…and images of faces began popping up in my vision in rapid fire succession.

They were of people of all genders and colors and ages and animals of every kind.

And…as it often happens in my dreams…there’s some narrator voice that wants to direct my attention to something important.

So as these faces kept coming at me…the dream narrator intoned, “This is the face of God.”

When I woke up…I felt deeply moved by what I had seen and heard.

I had a profound sense of the reality that God was in the face of every being…every creature.

And that…in the words of Jonathan Myrick Daniels…”we are indelibly and unspeakably One.”

Today…we heard about a set of dreams that Joseph had…visions that guided him to keep Mary and the newborn Jesus safe from a jealous and ruthless King Herod.

Our Gospel picked up at verse 13 of the second chapter of Matthew.

Fortunately, you do have verses 1-12 in your insert as well.

To give you a very quick synopsis: some wise men come to Jerusalem from the East looking to pay homage to the “King of the Jews.”

Scholars believe that…despite the popular hymn “We Three Kings of Orient Are”…these men from the East were more likely scientists…astronomers specifically.

There’s a reason they’ve become enchanted by following this very bright light over Bethlehem.

This star piqued their interest and somehow, they knew it signified someone important had been born.

King Herod the Great is not happy to hear that there is some rival out there in the hinterlands and asks these Gentile strangers to please let him know where to find this newborn king so he could pay his respects.

They go.

They find Jesus and Mary and Joseph.

They’re in awe of Jesus…give him gifts…gold, frankincense and myrrh.

And then…they dream.

And their dream narrator tells them…don’t go home through Jerusalem because Herod is a bad guy.

There’s a LOT of dreaming in Matthew’s story about Jesus’ birth.

And the dreams seem to function as interventions…ways to avoid catastrophes.

The dreamers are receiving premonitions.

Jospeh seems to have had a dream similar to what the wise men experienced.

The angel who appears in Joseph’s dream lets him know that there’s serious trouble brewing and he needs to get the family out of the country and do it now.

It’s a good thing he listened to his dream angel.

Our lectionary portion decided to spare us the next gruesome part, but I think it’s important that we don’t gloss over what happens next.

Because the missing verses….Matthew 2:16-18…tell of the vengeful campaign the jealous King Herod waged on the families of Bethlehem.

Herod was angry that the wise astronomers didn’t spill the beans on the location of Jesus…so he decides to take drastic action to hunt down his rival.

Not knowing exactly which boy under two years old had attracted the wise men’s attention…Herod ordered all the Jewish boys two years old and younger to be killed.

The church marks that day on the calendar…December 28^th…as the Feast of the Holy Innocents…a remembrance of the reported 20-plus baby boys killed in Bethlehem.  

Children killed because of a tyrant’s petty fears.

Historically…there’s no evidence that this massacre really happened and…even if Herod did order such a mass killing…his overall record is full of indiscriminate brutality toward the Jews so this would have been just another bad deed by a terrible man.

But it speaks to the real dangers that existed in the world in which Love came down at Christmas to dwell with us as one of us in the person of Jesus.

It’s still speaking to us in the world in which we are living today.

Violence…especially violence against children…is still with us.

We have all seen the images from the war-torn areas of the world…Gaza…Ukraine…Syria…Sudan…with indiscriminate killings of civilians and children being the most vulnerable victims.

And even closer to home…we know that school shootings are becoming an all-too frequent occurrence.

In the same way the birth of a child represents hope…the death of a child can feel like a devastating blow to hope.

It’s into times and places and moments such as this that Jesus enters the world…and depends upon the faithful actions of human participants to pay attention to the messages in their dreams.

Joseph did follow the dreams…and did so despite it being a risky proposition.

They left their homeland…the familiar.

They were immigrants…refugees…on the run into a foreign land.

In fact… it was the land from which their ancestors had escaped from another tyrannical figure so many centuries earlier.

How strange that must have been to seek refuge in Egypt!

We might imagine the stress of this situation and how terrifying it must have been to have to flee from their country of origin.

I’ve listened to many reports about the dangerous trek of people fleeing gang violence in Central America to seek refuge in our country.

Just trying to get through the area called the Darien Gap…which is both a swampland full of snakes as well as jungles and mountains…where marauders hang out waiting to attack people running for their lives…is harrowing experience.

That anyone makes it through there is truly miraculous.

The holy family’s experience isn’t as well documented…but we get the idea that like today’s refugees…they too had to could never fully rest because there was always danger around the corner.

Even after Herod’s death…Joseph was still listening to his dream narrator telling him not to go back to Judea.

And so the family settled in the Galilean village of Nazareth.

This story reminds us of how much it takes sometimes to keep hope alive.

But that fragile and vulnerable hope is the Jesus that lives within each of us who have been brought through the waters of baptism and marked and sealed as Christ’s own forever.

And this Jesus…born in us…is the hope that we bring out into the world…into our homes…our work places…everywhere we go and encounter those faces of God seeking meaningful connection.

This hope is what fuels a dream of a world where there is health, healing, and hope with unconditional love.

As we enter into the season of Epiphany…a time of many great “a-has”…may it be a time where the Christ light in us grows brighter each day as we keep that fire of hope burning in our hearts.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.