Seeing with the Heart

I'm finally catching up on posting here! This is the sermon I preached for the Third Sunday of Easter, after having spent the Second Sunday of Easter on an Air Force Base in California. It was my honor to have been asked to give the invocation at the commissioning of one of our former St. Barnabas members as she assumed the role of leading the 940th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron. 

And like with so many other experiences one has as a priest, I felt as though I had received much more than I gave during this moment with our military in the Air Force. 

See what you think.

Text: Luke 24:13-35

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This Gospel lesson…often called “The Road to Emmaus”…is one of my favorites.

Luke has a number of memorable passages…The Prodigal Son…The Good Samaritan…but this one hits on that idea that the most ordinary…and simplest encounters with a stranger…can remind us that we’re all connected through the One Love of God to each other.

And it’s through sharing…both our stories and gathering around the table for a meal…that we will know and be known to each other.

It’s also a lesson in what true faith looks like.

We can understand that Cleopas and the other disciple were in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions.

Jesus…the man in whom they had trusted and counted on to be their Messiah…was betrayed and brutally executed by their oppressors…the Roman Empire.

But then…they got word that the women had gone to the tomb…found it empty…and were telling the others that Jesus was alive.

And then…a bunch of the men went to the tomb…they…too…said it was empty.

So these two disciples are doing what any of us would do: they’re not only processing all of this in their own heads…they’re trying to work it out with each other as they make this long walk back to Emmaus.

And when this stranger comes along…and asks “What things? What are you talking about?” they’re like, “Bruh! You don’t know?!” and now they have a third party to help them muddle their way through this trauma.

Isn’t this how we act when something extraordinary and bizarre happens?

Our natural instinct is to share and process.

I think about the time that the tornadoes ripped through the middle of Tallahassee a couple of years ago.

One of them passed right by our house before it landed on a nearby golf course and met up with its twin to continue tearing through neighborhoods in the heart of the city.

After the fact…all of us on our block were in the street…comparing notes of what we heard when…who had heard the tornado alarm?...All of that.

So that’s the headspace that these two disciples are in.

And as this stranger starts to explain…piece by piece…bit by bit…the whole arc of the Messianic story….something shifts in them.

They feel their hearts…”strangely warmed.”

In the midst of the chaos…this stranger is helping to calm them down… lower the adrenaline… as he reminds them of their story.

His demeanor and words made enough of an impression that when he tries to walk off… they’re saying, “No wait! Come home with us.”

That invitation was a major act of trust on their part.

They still don’t know who this guy is… but they felt a level of comfort that made them want to open their home to him.

It was also a mark of their radical hospitality.

It was a common practice at that time in the First Century that people traveled in a type of buddy system because it wasn’t safe to walk alone on some of the roads between towns.

I can imagine that Jesus…still operating incognito at this point… also felt his heart brimming with happiness.

Their willingness to take in the stranger… which was in keeping with his teachings of that Jewish ethic of welcoming the foreigner… must have given him confirmation that those who had believed in his message were not giving up on Love… even as the Roman authorities attempted to cruelly snuff it out.

As he took…blessed…broke…and gave the bread… the two disciples’ hearts…already with those embers of recognition burning… had their eyes opened to see that this stranger was… in fact… their beloved Jesus.

And then he was gone.

We might have thought this sudden disappearance plunged them back into depression.

But instead…they reflected on that moment… the understanding of what just took place.

And as all the pieces came together in their heads…they had the realization of the great gift they’d been given.

They’d just experienced Jesus…present with them in the body of a supposed stranger.

And now this event is the thing that they could hold onto.

Having known Jesus in this way…this is the feeling that they could carry with them and share this understanding with others.

This story of the disciples on that long walk back to Emmaus is a master class in what having faith in God looks like.

Faith isn’t about having all the answers or seeing something right before our faces.

Faith sees with the eyes of the heart… and it’s that sixth sense that can’t be quantified or calculated.

But it’s that stirring we can feel inside ourselves that leads us to wonder and curiosity.

We can sense the presence of the Holy anywhere…whether we’re out in nature and meeting God as we commune with creation…or even as we sit beside a stranger in a waiting room.

God is never that remote if we take the time to slow down and pay attention to who and what is around us. 

It’s through this process of slowing down…and taking time with one another…that we unknowingly invite Jesus into our space.

In this way…Jesus serves as that ultimate community organizer….building bridges through swapping our stories and sharing meals at the table…both this one…and the ones we sit at every day in our homes and our communities.

I was reminded of the importance of such communion this past weekend when I was in California to deliver the invocation at Major Brittany Peters-Wagenius’s assumption of command ceremony.

Besides spending time with Brittany and the whole Wagenius family…I had some conversations with a few of the service members who were in attendance.

As you might imagine… this is a particularly difficult and stressful time for the military… and especially for Brittany’s squadron which takes care of the aircraft used in refueling missions.

When I shared with them about St. Barnabas and how close we are to Moody Air Force Base… I could see in some of their faces that sense of almost relief and appreciation that a church such as ours exists.

One woman even remarked how important it was for the men and women of the Air Force to have a place such as this where they could come and be in the civilian community… and have a spiritual home that wasn’t about the military.

And all this sharing happened without me preaching; I just simply shared that we’re a church near Moody Air Force Base.

And that’s one of the critical pieces of this Gospel story that I think is an important take away.

Once the disciples had their moment of reconnecting with Jesus at the table…they didn’t just sit there.

They went back to Jerusalem.

They sought out others.

They shared their experience.

We should do the same…especially now when the world needs to see Christians who are following Jesus.

By sharing our stories… by letting the prayers we say here…and the meal we eat at this table take root in us and transform us…others will see in our actions…and our words…that ethic of Love that comes to us through Jesus.

And in turn…we may find our hearts strangely warmed by our contact with others if we remain open and attentive to the world around us.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

The Dawning of Nicodemus

 

As seems to be the case now every weekend, our government at the direction of the president does something monumental and catastrophic to shake up the world. This time it was a coordinated bombing of Tehran igniting a war with Iran. They're calling it "Operation Epic Fury." I'm calling it "Operation Distraction from the Epstein Files." 

Many priests were posting on Facebook that they were scrambling to re-write their sermons...again. I did not re-write mine but did include "war" in my discussion points about the "dark side" of human nature.

Meanwhile...I hope that what I was inspired to say in my sermon not only gave pause for reflection, but also gave reason to hope for a better future. 

See what you think.

Text: John 3:1-17

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 I remember many years ago having a discussion with my mentor about this passage we heard this morning from the Gospel of John.

I was interested in Nicodemus and what I quickly realized as we talked that there wasn’t much love for this Pharisee…largely because Nicodemus didn’t “get” what Jesus was talking about.

Come to find out…there are a lot of Christians who look down their noses at Nicodemus...for any number of reasons.

But chiefly…it seems…they don’t like his questions of Jesus and his failure to understand the importance of being “born from above”…which is where we get the idea of being “born again.”

For some…that phrase “born again” raises the spirit.

For others…it raises eyebrows.

And for too many…it is the only thing they see in this exchange with Nicodemus…and since he doesn’t “get it”…he’s not a true believer and therefore “boo hiss” on him.

But I think if we rush to such quick judgment…we’re not “getting” it either.

And I think it’s a way for us to avoid the truth about ourselves when it comes to what it means to journey with Jesus.

Because…if we were honest…we’d acknowledge that we are a lot more like Nicodemus than we’d like to think.

So let’s think through what’s happening here and the way John uses Nicodemus to illustrate what the journey of faith…and possible conversion looks like...and why Nicodemus is an important player in this story.

First…we need context for this scene…which means we need to know what happens right before this exchange Jesus has with Nicodemus…and I’m also going to get to the rest of Jesus’s words to him because those matter too.

In the chapter before our reading from this morning…two big things happen.

One: Jesus has performed his first miracle of turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana.

And then two: He then heads to Jerusalem…goes to the Temple…where he makes a whip of cords and flips over the tables of the moneychangers.

Mark…Matthew and Luke have that incident happening later. But in John’s Gospel…we meet the provocative Jesus here. The chapter ends with Jesus in Jerusalem at the time of Passover…with many people believing in him because of the signs he was doing.

But…even though they were interested in him…and were wowed by that water turned into wine…Jesus knew better than to get caught up in their excitement.

John tells us that Jesus didn’t “trust himself to them…because he knew human nature too well.”(see the CEB translation).

Yeah…their impressed with him…but are they prepared to do what it takes to follow him?

Did they understand that despite that disruption in the Temple…Jesus is a Prince of Peace?

So that’s the set up for today’s Gospel reading where we meet Nicodemus…a Pharisee…a respected member of the Sanhedrin…the Jewish Council…who comes out to see Jesus at night.

In the dark.

Undercover as it were.

This makes sense…given that scene in the Temple right before a major Jewish festival.

The Pharisees wouldn’t have been too keen on all of that.

There was all that buzz about the wedding at Cana.

So who is this guy?

Nicodemus…a learned man of the law…decides he wants to find out.

But he doesn’t want others to know that he’s going to talk to this troublemaker.

So he goes at night.

This is also significant because John uses the imagery of darkness and light as an analogy for moving from unbelief to belief.

And if we read all the way through the Gospel of John…we will see Nicodemus making that journey from darkness to light.

He’ll show up again in the middle of the Gospel…seeming to raise a defense to the Jewish Council to hear Jesus out…rather than arrest him for his teachings and talking in his “I am” statements.

And then he appears at the end…with Joseph of Arimathea…to help bury Jesus.

Did he come to believe in Jesus as the Son of God?

That’s not clear.

But he’s willing to take the risk of being seen as caring for the one killed by Rome who had become a problem for those religious authorities who were happy to keep the status quo.

And it all began with his desire to talk with Jesus one night in Jerusalem.

We might imagine what it was like for him to engage with Jesus…thinking he was going to have a typical rabbi-to-rabbi exchange…and then Jesus hits him with talk of being “born from above.”

“Born from above?

But how is this possible if I’m already here in the flesh?”

Now I know they didn’t have things like the Myers-Briggs test back in the days of Jesus…but if they did…my guess is that Nicodemus would have been one of those very logical…rational types…the ISTJ or ESTJ…that knows how to keep the hours and follow the rules.

And while one might read Jesus as scolding Nicodemus for not understanding him…we can also make room to think of this as Jesus teasing him in a humorous way,

“Aw c’mon man…you’re a teacher of Israel!”

We might see Jesus smiling wryly, as he pushes his conversation partner.

 “Think of this like the wind. You’ve heard the things I have done and you’ve come out here looking for me.

Now I’m challenging you to get out of your head…your intellect…and realize that I’m about changing hearts.

I’m here to help you and the people see that you can free yourself  from the rules of the oppressor by tapping into the deep well of the One who sent me here.

Listen to what I’m saying and live in Love.

I’m not here to condemn the world but I am here to save it from its own condemnation.”

Now…unfortunately…the diviners of our lectionary decided not to let you hear the conclusion of this conversation.

I don’t know why they chose to stop here…because Jesus had some more to say. The next few verses…were important for Nicodemus to take in as he wrestled to understand and journey with Jesus.

They are also vital to our own need to ponder what it means to follow Jesus in our time of conflict and war.

So here is the rest of this section from John’s Gospel.

Jesus has said he’s not condemning the world…but he is passing judgment. Hear what he says:

“…the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. 

For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light…so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light…so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.” (John 3:19-21).

That had to be hard for Nicodemus to hear…given that he chose to approach Jesus in the dark.

I am not saying he approached Jesus at night because he was evil.

But because of the culture and circumstances…a corrupt Roman Empire…he had to wait until it was dark to seek out the light.

And in this darkness…he was given some food for thought as he left that conversation.

And his journey toward enlightenment could now begin…as he contemplated the words of Jesus against the backdrop of his world.

We too are now given these sobering words of truth to consider in our own circumstances.

We live in a world where there are so many things that get swept under the proverbial rug…hidden from the public by our leaders and a corporate media that no longer serves as the watchdogs of democracy.

Lawmakers in state legislatures keep passing bills to stop children from learning the hard and sometimes ugly truths about our past…which only compounds the anger and divisions in our present and jeopardizes our future.

We have secret police grabbing people at work sites and in court houses…and disappearing them into a maze of private for-profit prisons.

There are decades old crimes against girls and boys buried to protect the wealthy perpetrators of such evils as sex slavery and human trafficking.

And we start wars based on half-truths or falsehoods…putting both civilian and military lives at risk.

These are the dark things in human nature that made Jesus leery of trusting those who claimed to be interested in his miracles and ministry.

The people who speak a good game about God…yet their actions don’t follow a path of mercy…justice…and walking humbly with God.

We have an opportunity at Lent to recognize our own tendencies to run back into the dark…hiding our true selves…seeking power over others.

This is our time to consider how we prefer comfort and acceptance instead of realizing that to follow Christ means to not stay silent while others suffer…but to speak up for the vulnerable at the risk of not being popular.

Now is the time to follow the lead of a Nicodemus…and do that work of transformation…chiseling away at those stony parts of our hearts…so that the light of Christ might shine through us in bigger and brighter ways.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

Fear and Facing Evil with the Power of Love

It's not normal for me to preach on all of the Scripture readings. That's just too much and can get way too messy trying to pull things together. But for some reason this week...it felt right to touch on all of them.

We're entering into what is called "Ordinary Time" meaning that we're simply keeping time, or the weeks, of After Pentecost. From a liturgical standpoint, that means we'll be mostly reading from one or two books of the Old Testament while the Epistle and the Gospel will be more likely to be intentionally chosen. And this is Year C in our Episcopal calendar, so the Gospel lessons will be coming from Luke. 

Even though this is called "ordinary time"...there ain't nothing "ordinary" or "normal" at this time in the life of the United States of America. In fact, as I am typing this, we are apparently dropping bombs on targets in Iran. 

God help us...I mean it.

This sermon will post on Sunday evening...about 24 hours from now. We'll see where we're at by then.

Meanwhile...here's the sermon. See what you think.

Texts: 1 Kings 19:1-15a; Psalms 42 and 43; Galatians 3: 23-29; and Luke 8:26-39

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O Lord, make us have perpetual love and reverence for your holy Name, for you never fail to help and govern those whom you have set upon the sure foundation of your loving­-kindness…

These words from our opening collect this morning have been sticking with me especially as I reviewed and thought about our readings from First Kings…both of the Psalms…Paul’s Letter to the Galatians and that wild story of suicidal pigs in the Gospel of Luke.

Quite the collection to sort through and ponder!

I thought about where we’ve been in the lectionary these past couple of weeks.

We’ve had the powerful Spirit-filled moment of Pentecost and the unifying Wisdom of last week’s lessons for Trinity Sunday.

Both of those were really positive and life-affirming lessons to carry us into the week.

And now…today…it seems as if we’re dealing with matters of fear and trouble…division…and standing up to an evil that can’t be chained or locked away.

Tougher lessons to work with for sure.

And unfortunately…none of us has the privilege to live in a world…somewhere over the rainbow… where our troubles melt like lemon drops… right?

The angst…and the frustrations in our readings might feel like an echo coming back to us from across time.

Elijah…having gotten on the wrong side of a corrupted King Ahab and his vengeful Queen Jezebel…thinks he can run away and hide.

Paul is not happy with what’s been happening to the Galatian church.  

Some unnamed character has been trying to tell the new converts that they have to adopt a bunch of rules…including circumcision…in order to be right with God.

And then there is Jesus coming face-to-face with a demonic power that has been tormenting this poor man in Gerasene…leaving him naked and howling…and very alone.

While all these stories are tales told of our biblical ancestors….that sense of the enormity of the opposition to Love may feel fresh against our modern-day backdrop of things happening both here and abroad.

The cry of the Psalmist…”Why are you so full of heaviness, O my soul, and why are you so disquieted within me?” might be the best and the most real response to the nightly news these days.

That restlessness is our soulful response to things that are not right in the world.

Yet even in the middle of what might seem like an endless tide of doom and gloom…there is hope.

There is still that promise of the God who does not fail us…if we can keep our hearts and minds fixed on that much greater power of Love.

The story in Luke of the Gerasene demoniac is a great example of the ultimate strength of Love…and Love’s ability to overcome even a Legion of evil.

There’s a reason this demon calls itself “Legion.”

A “legion”… for the original audience of this Gospel…was representative of a unit of five thousand Roman soldiers…part of the Imperial force of the day…deployed throughout the Empire and hated by the Jewish followers of Jesus…and not loved by the Gentiles in Gerasene either.

The occupation of Legion in this man is causing him to have fits of rage…busting chains…and behaving in ways that have made him an outcast.

Legion recognized the power of Jesus…calling him, “The Son of the Most High God.”

Just as a point of reference: Legion knows who Jesus is…while those following him were still scratching their heads.

Just a few verses before this story in the Gospel…Jesus calms the raging waters while he and the disciples are sailing across the lake to Gerasene…leaving his friends wondering, “Who is this guy who commands the winds and the waters to obey him?” (Luke 8:25).

Jesus not only confronts and casts out the demonic Legion from this man…he further asserts Love’s superiority to the Roman Empire by sending the Legion into pigs who then run off a cliff and drown.

Pigs…and swineherds…were an important and a vital part of the Roman agricultural economy.

Pigs were also often used in some of the sacrifices to Roman gods.

So not only had Love gotten rid of a bunch of demons from this one man…it had greatly disrupted the institutions of the Empire…and proved…again…that the God who is Love will win…and prove that Love is a better way.

In this act of exorcising Legion…Jesus has asserted that Love will stand as a bulwark against the evils of the Empire…and will be with those who are seeking justice…mercy…and compassion.

This sentiment is crucial for us to remember in our times.

We don’t face demons of possession in the same way that the Gerasene man did.

But there are other insidious forces that want to disrupt and break the spirits of the people of God.

There are those who want us to turn on each other… and be suspicious of each other because of our race…gender…country of origin… orientation… or identity.

The sin of “othering” people is probably one of our most pervasive wrongs that continues to plague humanity.

And it has been leading to deadly consequences in society…as we have seen in Minnesota….and in less violent ways through the denial of healthcare to trans people and the shutting down of suicide hotlines.

“Othering” is what ends diplomacy and starts wars.

When we “other” people…when we start ranking some creatures of God as being more superior…we are not following Christ or even the Scriptures.

But we are drifting away from God and into the dystopia of a George Orwell novel.

It is the othering…the dividing and deciding who is in and who is out…that led Saint Paul to pen his angry letter to the Galatians…reminding them in no uncertain terms that in Christ Jesus…there are no “others.”

In that same way…we are called upon to stand in firm in Love.

Our Baptismal Covenant makes it clear…that our constant task is to resist those forces of evil that seek to turn us against one another…and when we do fall into that sin…to realize we’re wrong…turn around and go back to the God who made us out of Love and to love.

Love for ourselves as the wonderfully and beautifully made creatures of God.

From that centered and grounded place…we can extend love and give respect and dignity to every human being as we strive to make this world a place where all can live in peace.

Our scriptures today remind us that none of the work of living into our call as Christian witnesses is easy.

But as the psalmist reminds us…put your trust in God…keep calm…keep close to that source of love…because that love is more powerful.

 And THAT love will get us through to the other side of our troubles.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Still Happens: A Sermon for Christmas Eve 2023

 This has been a really rough year for so many in my congregation. Hurricane Idalia is still messing with people's lives as they fight with their insurance companies over damages. Others have had difficult health events. And then there is the reality of war happening around the world which touches the lives of those connected to the air force base. 

I keep hearing people saying that "Christmas is canceled" particularly in the Holy Land due to the terrorism and war that has been gripping the region for the past two and half months. If ever there was a time for us to call upon Jesus to be made manifest, now seems the time!

I realize that most preachers in the United States will steer clear of the hardships that surround us as they preach their Christmas Eve sermons. We want everyone to be happy and joyous, after all. But I'm just too much of a journalist, too much of a person who sees the things happening in the world and knowing that those are the things my people are hearing and experiencing, too. So I don't want to ignore the realities happening around us. But I want to also remind us that those realities are met on Christmas by a new thing, a new reality that has come to redirect our attention back to Love. 

And so here it goes. See what you think.

Text: Luke 2: 1-20

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Prayer:  The Word was made flesh and dwells among us. May it be the Word we hear…read…mark…learn and inwardly digest as the guiding light of our hearts. Amen.

 

I was casually scrolling through my social media…Facebook and various news sites…when I came across a story about the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bethlehem….and their nativity scene.

Interested…I clicked on the headline…which said there was something “controversial” about their display.

Having in my previous career reported and witnessed no end of controversies about nativity scenes and menorahs and all kinds of religious symbols on display in government buildings…I had to wonder what could be so controversial about a church putting up a nativity scene in the Holy Land?

The story popped up on my screen…and the image was arresting.

Instead of a manger with Mary and Joseph looking on in awe and wonder on the Christ child….the church had assembled broken rocks and concrete.

And there…in the middle of the rubble…was Baby Jesus.

Instead of swaddling clothes…he was wrapped in the Palestinian kufiyah…their traditional black and white scarf.

There were a few sheep scattered in the ruins.

Off in the distance…one could make out a shepherd here or there.

Even in this scene…the heavenly chorus is able to reach the lowly shepherds with good news.

It looked like so many of the images we’ve been seeing emerge from the Holy Land as the war in Gaza rages on.

The church’s display captured the reality on the ground and the feelings in the air.

It was certainly a provocative move.

What many Americans probably don’t realize is that Bethlehem…the city which we commemorate as the birthplace of Jesus…lies inside the Israeli-occupied West Bank…a little more than six miles south of Jerusalem.

And while there has been a lot of attention focused on Gaza…there’s been tension and violence in the West Bank for some time as Israel creates more and more settlements in areas with Palestinians.

Since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7^th…relations between Israelis and Palestinians in the West Bank have gotten worse.

There are the extremist Zionist factions which have no problem assaulting Palestinians….taking out their hurt and anger and fear on those who farm olives.

There are those Palestinians who support fighting against Israel who they see as the oppressor and a source of their misery.

For Palestinian Christians…they are embroiled in a nightmare.

The voices of peace on both sides…Jews and Muslims desiring a two-state solution to the constant conflicts in the region… are still out there.

But the noise of war captures much more attention.

Bethlehem…which relies largely on Christian tourism especially at Christmas…is not a safe place to go.

Christian leaders in this little town made the difficult decision to cancel tree-lighting ceremonies. And while there are Christmas Eve services being held…they are not the same as in years past.

The headline writers have told us that “Christmas is canceled” in the Holy Land.

But I would argue quite the opposite.

Because that image of Jesus laying amidst the broken bomb-scarred rocks in a Lutheran Church in Bethlehem is as much a sign of Christmas for us in the 21^st century as what those ragtag shepherds saw when they trekked off to the manger in search of the Messiah…two thousand years ago.

Jesus then…and now…comes to us amidst the chaos and the rubble of real life.

Jesus was born into a world in which his own earthly parents would be forced to flee to Egypt as refugees.

The political landscape of the Roman Empire was fraught with tyranny and bullying of the Jewish population.   

It was a dangerous world.

There were greedy people holding positions of power and privilege.

There were those doing what they could to get by and not cause any trouble.

There were some who had dropped out of society to go live on the outskirts of town with John the Baptizer by the Jordan River.

And there were hundreds of people who felt hopeless to counter what was happening in society….and others who kept looking for ways to end the corrupt systems that held them back.

And there were wars.

All of it sounds a lot like our world today.

So when newspeople want to report that Christmas is canceled…I say, No.

Go find another phrase for your click-bait! (and as a journalist by training…I reserve the right to criticize my colleagues of the Fourth Estate!)

Yes, maybe all the usual activities aren’t happening.

Maybe the manger scene is messier than what we’re used to seeing.

But Christmas is not just about Christmas trees and gift-giving….or the latest pitch for a new Toyota.

Christmas for us is the celebration of God’s in-breaking into the world…the day that Love came down to earth to dwell among us as one of us.

And boy! It is so important and necessary for that Love to come to this world now!

Given all the upheaval in Europe and the Middle East…and our own continued meanness and in-fighting in our national and state politics…with our social safety net in Lowndes County stretched to the breaking point…we sorely need to get back to the Source of Life…and Light.

We need that light to shine boldly and brightly.  

We need it to pierce through the depths of the gloom and darkness that threatens to overshadow all that is good.

Now maybe you’re sitting there thinking, “Great, but where is that light coming from?

When is it going to show up?”

I don’t have an answer for that.

But I can at least get a glimpse of where to look.

We can start by taking in the sight of our Advent wreath.

We can see the flickering lights.

Each candlelight was added one at a time through Advent.

Now…we have this ring of fire around the one central Christ candle.

This gathering of light can serve as an outward and visible sign to us… a beginning for our prayers and meditations.

And again…it’s a symbol. A representation of the light of Christ.

At our baptism…we were handed…or maybe our parents and godparents…received a candle representing the light of Christ.

Besides being a sweet gift…that candle is meant to be the reminder of what is inside all of us.

Each one of us carries with us that light of Christ.

So it is really each one of us who has the potential to do the work that Christ came into the world to do:

to sit and care for those who are brokenhearted,

the oppressed,

the person in need of a friend.

One of the traditions at Christmas Eve is to sing “Silent Night.”

We do this by candlelight.

The usher lowers the overhead lights as we pass the light to each other’s candle.

Tonight…as we do this…think of it as the symbolism of being a light of Christ for your family…your friends…for your neighbors.

A light that you can pass on to someone else.

A light that may need you to cup your hand around at times to keep it going.

Take a moment to look at a room full of candlelight.

Be still and know that the God who is meeting us in this moment is the God who is calling us now to fulfill the dream of God’s peace on earth as it is in heaven.

The world cannot cancel Christmas if we commit to being Christ’s hands and feet…ears and eyes…head and heart.

Time for us to show up and shine on.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace, please

 

 

One of the things I am aware of serving at St. Barnabas is that we are the closest Episcopal Church to Moody Air Force Base; hence, when members of the Air Force look for an Episcopal Church, we're the ones they're most likely to find first.

With the war ragining in Gaza, one of our members was deployed in late October for an undetermined amount of time. The deployment left all of us a little nervous. And we were especially concerned for the kids. 

Thankfully...he made it back...and just in time to help us light the candle for Peace on the Advent Wreath. 

Texts: Is. 40:1-11; Mark 1:1-8

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Abandonment has got to be one of the loneliest and most fear-filled feelings in the world.

The ache of wondering if you’ve been forgotten…or worse…intentionally left behind to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar place.

Maybe some of us remember a time when we were little kids and we’d have gone shopping with mom.

Mom was on a mission to get what she needs.

But we’d become enthralled with the toys strategically placed at kid eye-level.

Mom…focused and intent on getting in and out of the store…would go about her business.

She needs to get these items.

She’s not there for trinkets and plastic and sparkly things.

So she moves on with finding the essentials….while we’d still be fixated on the bright shiny object.

Mom…her shopping…was of little interest or consequence.

Until we became aware that mom was no longer with us.  

Separated…and mom nowhere sight…we’d start to panic.

We’d look down this aisle…over here and over there. Nothing. Our brains would start to pester us with questions:

Where did she go? Why did she leave me? Where am I?

And then we’d hear a voice calling out our name.

The store manager on the loudspeaker would be summoning us to the front of the store to be reunited with mom…who…by the way…was just as panicked and probably fearing the worst circumstances…realizing she’d lost her focus on us.

That’s the sort of feeling of “abandonment” I’m talking about and on a small scale…caused by a momentary lapse in attention.

But imagine that same sense of abandonment on a bigger scale.

The despair that arises when we’re forced into a situation we’re in some place foreign…with no idea when or if we’ll ever get home.

That’s the wilderness…and it can feel a little like abandonment.

We have no sense of up or down…left or right.

There’s no compass to help guide our feet in the direction of the town.

It’s unknown territory.

That’s the situation of the people Isaiah is speaking to in our first reading.

The Israelites had be invaded by the Babylonian Empire. Their best minds and tradespeople had been captured and taken away to a foreign land.

Those left behind in the ruins were like a rudderless ship.

This was the wilderness…another time when the people of Israel mourned for losses…and the exiles wondered if they’d ever see their native land again.

Now… the prophet is announcing the good news that those who had been scattered can return home.

Persia and King Cyrus had defeated the Babylonians.

The Israelites who had been exiled can return!

All is well now…

” Comfort o comfort my poor beleaguered and suffering people.

You are saved. God is with you!”

We can hear in this passage an exchange of voices…the one announcing to prepare the way! Make a straight path in this wilderness!

There’s dialogue of exuberance:

 “Cry out!” says a voice.

“What should I cry?” asks the prophet.

The cry is to be a proclamation:

humans are mortal…and like flowers and grass they fade away…but God endures forever.

We can get a sense of this as a moment of such joyousness.

It’s like listening to the end of Martin Luther King’s ‘I Have a Dream’ speech, where he thundered out “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty we’re free at last!”

This is the same declaration we’re hearing in the Gospel from that wild and hotheaded character John the Baptizer.

Like the prophet Isaiah…John knows that he is not the almighty.

His baptism is not like the one that is coming to the people.

He knows that the people are about to receive a baptism that will set them free once and for all.

Wait and see!

“You who are feeling hopeless...lost…abandoned…get ready! Freedom is coming!”

These messages of freedom…of merciful release…of return from that place of feeling lost and abandoned carry a particularly urgent tone in our world today.

During that brief period of the ceasefire in the Middle East…the world could sigh with some relief as groups of hostages…particularly young children…were freed from underground tunnels in Gaza.

At the same time…Israel freed several Palestinians…a number of them teenagers…who they had detained for minor and sometimes no offenses.

There were signs of celebration as families were reunited.

But sadly…the war rages on.

The fate of the remaining hostages is unknown.

Families of those who have been released…both those being held hostage by Hamas and some of the Palestinian prisoners…are revealing stories of mistreatment and abuse since this conflict began on October 7th.

All of this has spilled over into hostilities in this country.

Arab and Palestinian Americans as well as Jewish citizens are reporting an increase in harassment and abuse.

We’ve heard reports of people getting shot, some have been stabbed and beaten all because they wore the Palestinian scarf…the black and white checkered kufiyah…or the Jewish head covering…the kippah.

Thursday night was the beginning of Hanukkah…an eight-day celebration in which Jews remember another time when they were attacked and overcame adversity…even having enough oil to keep their candles lit.

Sadly…some have felt they can’t safely engage in this candle lighting practice because of the anger and backlash for the war in Gaza.

In fact…my state representative sent out a plea to non-Jews in her district to light a menorah as a way of showing solidarity with their neighbors and allow them to mark their holiday tradition without fear.

(Not a problem in my household since we are an interfaith couple).

It makes sense then that on this second Sunday of Advent…we’ve lit a candle for peace.

Because we could stand to have more peace… less war… less violence… occupying our every day lives in this world.

None of us here may be able to stop to the geopolitical conflicts of the world…in the Middle East…Europe or Africa.

The one thing we CAN do is to commit to asking for God’s guidance to lead us to be peace makers in our families and our communities.

We can take this time of Advent to consider the ways we engage with those around us that might influence others toward a more peaceful coexistence.

Like the ripples on water when you drop a stone into the middle of a pond…our actions and behaviors can affect others to model and change their behavior.

 The words we choose when we’re in conflict with someone can make a difference in resolving a dispute.

Taking a breath before responding in anger or frustration with our colleagues and loved ones…may save a relationship.

Such actions may seem small…but they do add up.

And in this time when people seem to feel free to say the most hateful things online…and in person…to one another…we have an opportunity and a covenant to keep building people up and not tearing them to shreds.

Isaiah was proclaiming a time of God’s salvation coming to a hurting and scattered people.

John was declaring God’s presence was not far from a disillusioned and depressed people.

Now it’s our turn to speak words of comfort to our friends and neighbors as we pray…

“Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.”

In the name of God…F/S/HS.