Courageous Love

Spikenard plant

This was some week in the United States of America. 

New Jersey U.S. Senator Cory Booker took to the floor of the Senate Monday night at 7pm and didn't stop speaking until after 8pm on Tuesday. He spoke with passion and pleading. And with an enormous amount of heart. 

And he spoke for many of us out here in the wilderness wondering, "How long, O Lord? How long must we suffer and endure this moment of fascism?"

A fascism that has resulted in the firing of hundreds of thousands of federal workers in Washington, DC, and across the country. 

People who keep up our national parks, test medicines, research cures to diseases, handle the phone calls from military veterans on suicide hotlines, staff the VA hospitals, map weather systems and warn of potentially dangeous storms, guide our airlines to safely land and take off from airports, administers Head Start programs....the list goes on and on. 

 In response to that...and the yo-yoing of the tariff wars...millions...including more than 1000 people in Tallahassee... poured into the streets on Saturday to join our voices to Cory Booker in crying out to God and all that is good...to please stop the madness.

What does this have to do with courageous love?

Everything!

Because the act of Mary using an abundance of nard oil to wash Jesus's feet was an act of courage given the criticism she received. 

And even more courageous if we think about her act being an embodiment of the type of love all of us are supposed to be practicing every day. 

At least that's my take. 

See what you think. 

Text: John 12: 1-8 

 

“Do you love me?”

That’s the question the milkman Tevye poses to his wife Golde in the musical, “Fiddler on the Roof.”

And if you’re familiar with that particular song, Golde’s answer to “Do you love me?” is listing out all the things she’s done: bore him three daughters…milked his cow…cooked…cleaned.

That’s all fine and good.

But what Tevye wanted to know is not all the things Golde does for him…but what does she feel for him after twenty-five years in an arranged marriage.

And by the end of the song…we understand that for Golde…what she does for him is her own way of saying, “Yes, I suppose I do love you.”

In our Gospel…we have Mary doing something that signifies her love for Jesus. He’s come to Bethany…to the home of Martha…Mary…and Lazarus.

In the chapter before this one…we have the story of Jesus’ sixth miracle in the Gospel of John when he raises Lazarus from the dead.

Martha is serving.

Lazarus is at the table.

And Mary enters with a pound of nard oil…which in today’s measurements comes to about twelve ounces.

Then…as is the case now…nard oil is not cheap.

It’s from a plant grown in remote parts of the Himalayas…so just a small amount of it is almost 30 dollars.

So…if you’re doing the math…yeah…in today’s money…that’s a really expensive footbath!

She’s using all of this oil…filling the whole house with the aroma…one that is a little woodsy…and earthy.

Not quite like being around someone who has washed themselves in patchouli…but the same idea of an aroma that is both sweet and strong.

Besides having a healing calming property…this is the same oil that was used to prepare a body for burial.

Is it any wonder then that Judas is angry.

Maybe he’s one of those people with a sensitivity to odors. He’s calculating the expense of this oil being poured freely on Jesus’ feet and this is just too much for him.

I’m going to sidestep the comment in John’s Gospel about Judas being a thief…and I have a good reason to be skeptical of that accusation.

Our evangelist John…and his community that he was writing for back in the 100 CE period…were in a fierce and bitter internal struggle.

You’re going to hear this from me a lot in these next couple of weeks…but I want us to always remember that all the characters…unless otherwise identified in the Gospels…are Jews.

And the Evangelist John was the leader of a community of Jews…as well as Gentiles…and even Samaritans… who had come to believe in Jesus as the Messiah.

This put them in tension with their fellow Jews who did not believe the Messiah had come…and were getting angry and fearful that John’s faction was going to draw unwanted attention to them from the Roman Empire which had just destroyed the Jerusalem Temple for a second time.

This is an intra-family struggle.

A battle between parent and child.

And so John is making the claim that Judas is a crook.

For John…Judas becomes a stand in for this group of non-believers.

Judas is one of “those people.”  

In fact…this same story of a woman anointing Jesus happens in the other three Gospels.

But none of them place this woman at the house of Lazarus.

And in none of those accounts did the evangelists name Judas as the lone naysayer.

So, John has an agenda with his particular depiction of Judas.

Still…I think we can look at what’s happening here…and see both a glimpse of ourselves…as well as the amazing extravagant and irrepressible love of God.

We know Judas gets angry about what Mary is doing.

Why?

Was it simply because…as John has stated…that this was really expensive perfume and she was slathering it everywhere and it could have been sold to collect a handsome sum for the poor?

Was it because she was a woman who was doing something scandalous and out of line?

I mean, washing feet was one thing…but with nard oil?

And a woman washing and touching the feet of a man?!

Especially with her hair.

Or was it that Judas felt convicted because this Mary of Bethany… saw something in Jesus…knew something intuitively about his fate…even if she didn’t know exactly what was going to happen to him…and was so moved by her love and appreciation that she did something courageous and so over the top to demonstrate her love and devotion to him?

Did her unfettered love for Jesus make Judas uncomfortable about his own reservations about this rabbi he was following?

Throughout our various Gospels we have a picture that emerges of Judas.

He’s a revolutionary.

He was a zealot who wanted to overthrow the Roman Empire.

And he was ready for Jesus to be the Messiah of his own making.

The same way we can be guilty of wanting a God made in our own image.

Judas was looking for the guy to lead an insurrection…just like so many others had been doing in those days.

But Jesus was not that sort of warrior.

He’s not one who believed that using brute force and weapons to fight would make the lives of those oppressed by the tyrannical leadership of the Empire any better.

Jesus was leading a movement…the Jesus movement…to get everyone back on board the Love train to God.

And this is what Mary has figured out.

Her act of taking this expensive and highly aromatic oil and using it like water to wash Jesus’s feet is her way of demonstrating her love.

Think about this for a moment:

Our feet take a real beating having to support our whole body.

And in the First Century…where one had to walk for miles and miles in sandals…the feet were definitely in need of some tenderness and love.

What an incredible act of generosity and kindness for Mary to care for Jesus’s feet in this way.

What insight she must have had…living under the thumb of the Empire…and knowing that Jesus was taking a huge risk in challenging people to refuse to give in to despair and to lean into that source of Love…and resist the power structure in a non-violent way.

She must have sensed the danger and the very real possibility that violence was on the horizon. Especially since Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead on the Sabbath…in that way that Jesus kept always doing miraculous things on the Sabbath…and offending the status quo.

Mary’s act of taking something of such high monetary value…and so much of it…and simply spilling it all over Jesus’s feet is the same wreckless and wasteful behavior of a Father who throws a massive party for his ne’er do well son.

Or that sower who throws seeds everywhere…no matter where they land…instead of carefully tilling the ground and planting them.

Mary is showing us how to love as God would have us love: with extravagance.

Unbounded.

And without checking for credentials…straight A’s in school…or how much money is in the bank account.

God doesn’t care whether we check every box that we have going in our own heads that we think would make us worthy.

God’s love is freely offered to everyone.

Which is the sad state of Judas….and why the poor will always be with us.

Because too many who have abundance to give…refuse to let go…share their wealth.

Or they’ll give a small amount…while those with next to nothing contribute what they have…sometimes to their own detriment.

The poor will always be with us because greed is an ever-present reality…whether it’s financial greed…or the greed that makes us turn against one another in a manufactured culture war designed to dehumanize certain segments of the population…and divide up the Body of Christ.

As we approach this final week of Lent…I think there’s a question that’s laid before us:

If we say we love God…and if we call ourselves “followers of Jesus”…do we do it with a love that is joyous and without reservation…courageous like Mary…or is there a piece of ourselves that we hold back out of fear or out of greed…or out of a sense that we can’t or shouldn’t let go of too much?

In the Name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

Are We Going to Party or Pout?

 

Remembrandt's "The Prodigal Son"

Preaching on the prodigal son is challenging. First of all, there are so many ways one could approach this that figuring out what is the one way in is tough. And then there is the obvious that everyone has heard this story before. And before that. And before that again. 

As a special treat for this Laetare Sunday of Lent...I decided to have some of the participants in my Playing with the Parables class help tell the story out Luke 15 by playing the different roles. Yours truly was double cast as the Pharisees grumbling...and then as the servant running to tell the older son that his younger brother came home. 

I see in some of my fellow Americans shades of the older son. I keep trying to square for myself how people can be OK with our government now basically abducting foreign-born people in broad daylight, whisking them off to detention centers, cutting them off from their families and lawyers, and then shipping them out of the country to gulag-like prisons in El Salvador. Do they really think that's what a person waiting on their asylum hearing deserve?

Or how can they be OK with scrubbing the websites of the armed forces and govenrment agencies of any mention of the contributions made by women and minorities in this country? Do they really believe that any person of color or woman or LGBTQIA person got to their positions or made their mark simply because of some preferential hiring standard? 

I'm feeling as though so much of white, straight, male, cisgender America would rather stand outside the house feeling pissed off and slighted rather than come into the house and realize that God's love is really that deep and wide that it includes foreigners, women, queers, black and brown people, trans men and women. And just because God loves us, too...doesn't mean God thinks less of them.

So: party or pout?

See what you think.  

Text: Luke 15: 1, 11b-32

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I find sometimes that one of the biggest challenges in preaching is trying to say something new or interesting when the Scripture is a well-known story.

Easter and Christmas always present that task.

And then there are the stories like today’s Gospel—the parable of the prodigal son.

This is one of those tales from the Bible that we all have probably heard more than a dozen times in a Sunday School class.

It’s so well-known that even people who have nothing to do with the church will have at least some memory of hearing a story about the kid who goes off and squanders his inheritance and then comes back home and his dad is all-forgiving.  

Maybe some of us have lived this story in some way in our own families.

Just for fun…how many here are the youngest?

And how many are the oldest?

And how many of you are parents?

I imagine that for most of us our birth order and our position in our families may  deeply color the way that we read this parable and how we understand what’s happening in this story.

Like I’ve said…I’m the youngest in my family and I know that my parents had already been around the block a few times with my older brothers.

So by the time I was born…they were a little more chill about parenting.

It’s not that I was able to get away with more things than my brothers.

But I always had a sense that my brothers felt as if my parents treated me with kid gloves so to speak…and somehow loved me more.

Sibling rivalry is a real thing in families with multiple children.

The original audience for this parable was very aware of sibling rivalry stories.

We can almost see them nodding and maybe some eyerolls when Jesus starts:

“There was a man who had two sons…”

The audience…the Pharisees, the scribes, the tax collectors and sinners and disciples all were looking at each other in that knowing way…

Yes…OK…two sons.

Cain and Abel.

Isaac and Ishmael.

Jacob and Esau.

Now…here we go…there was this father and his two sons.

Two son stories…to a Jewish audience…(remember: these are all Jews)…would be normal.

But Jesus does something interesting with these two sons that isn’t the usual take.

In this story….the younger son is not the model kid.

Instead…he’s the demanding greedy one….who takes off with his inheritance and blows all of his money on partying and gambling and living it up.

It’s the older son who helps at home…takes care of his dad’s property…is loyal and faithful to the family.

Some try to put a better spin on the younger son by saying that he realizes he’s done wrong when he goes home.

But really…the story doesn’t say that.

What it says is that he knows he’s hungry and there’s better food at home; that’s not really admitting that he’s been wrong.

He figures out the right words to say.

Does a little practicing of his speech.

And before he’s even at the end of the driveway…dad comes rushing out of the house….arms extended. He’s so excited and happy that even as his son is starting that very well-rehearsed speech…his father is calling out to everyone:

Bring the out the best robe!

Get some sandals for his feet!

And let’s kill the fatted-calf and get this party started right!

Dad doesn’t ask questions.

Dad doesn’t notice that this son has lost probably about 40 pounds and looks like death warmed over…and stinks of pig…a repugnant smell to a good Jew.

Dad only cares that this one son has come back.

Dad also doesn’t bother to let the older son in on the rejoicing.

Dad hasn’t gone out to the fields to invite his loyal son to the party.

Dad’s focus is only on the younger son who has come home.

And so when the older son shows up after a long day working in the fields and he’s hearing music and laughter and dancing coming from the house…he’s like, “What’s up? What is all this rejoicing?”

And he hears it from a servant…someone even lower in the ranks…who tells him his foolish and wasteful brother has come home and dad’s throwing a party for him.

It makes sense if we…we who are sitting here in St. Barnabas on a Sunday morning…are in sympathy with the older son.

We are like this older son.

We could be doing a hundred other things on a Sunday morning rather than being in church.

But here we are…because we are the faithful.

And yet…we look at this father…and if we see this father as God…we see God giving all the good stuff to the one we think doesn’t deserve it.

Those jealousies and prejudices we carry in our hearts begin to bubble to the surface.

That insidious tempter wants us to feel every slight as an outrage.

Every time someone or some group we think of as “other” outside of our own tribe has something good and positive happen for them…we take it as a personal affront.

And then…let’s talk about this father.

Amy Jill Levine…who I’ve mentioned before…is a Jew and a New Testament scholar at Vanderbilt University.

She notes that this Parable of the Prodigal Son takes on a different flavor if we read it in conjunction with two other parables…the other the two stories that Jesus tells right before he launches into this one.

See…once again…the diviners of our lectionary…smart and thoughtful people that they are…have chopped up Jesus’ teachings here in Luke.

And so I’m going to fill-in the gap.

After the Pharisees and the scribes complain, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them”….Jesus talks about the shepherd who has a hundred sheep.

One of the sheep wanders off…and the shepherd searches high and low for that one sheep.

And when the shepherd finds it…he rejoices and invites everyone to join in the celebration.

And then Jesus talks about the woman who loses a precious coin.

She tears up her whole house until she finds that one lost coin.

And when she finds it…she calls together her friends and throws a party because she found her coin.   

But in our parable…the father has two sons. He lost the younger one.

He doesn’t go looking for him…and he still has his loyal and steadfast older son.

And when the lost one turns up on the doorstep…the father rejoices…but doesn’t go looking for the oldest.

What Levine suggests…is that when we put these three stories together…they tell us even more about God.

Because these stories are about counting.

It’s easy enough for the shepherd to notice a missing sheep when counting sheep.

It was simple to pick up a lost coin.

Making a lost child feel welcomed…included…and loved…is a bigger lift…and ultimately the more important one.

That’s the message imbedded in what the father says to his older son as he stands outside the house feeling as if he is the lost and forgotten one now.

“No son” says the father.

“No…I have never forgotten you. You have been at my side. I have always loved you. Come in. Join us and let’s celebrate that a lost one has found their way home.”

This is the message said to us…right now…and in this time.

It’s on us to decide:

Are we going to be accepting and OK with a God who loves with such reckless abandon all of us…including that person  or that group of people we don’t like?

That person we think doesn’t belong?

Because in God’s banquet hall…that table gets extended every day to add more and more chairs.

The choice is ours: we can join the party and dance…or we can remain embittered at the idea that God’s love is endless and God’s kingdom knows no borders or barriers.

Jesus is awaiting our answer.

In the name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

A New Venue?

 

I'm growing more frustated.

Obviously, I am seeing what is happening in the world around me and I find it abhorrent. I do not understand why at least half the country seems to be OK with a total destruction of all the norms that have kept us together...like...oh, I dunno....following the law. 

It's lead me to start doing more "other writing" beyond just my sermons, which is pretty much all that I am putting up on this blog. 

And while I see that there are apparently people who are seeing the content here, I feel as though this venue isn't really reaching that many people. 

And so while I will continue to post my sermons here, I am also hoping to migrate some of the content from here over to my Substack. 

Substack claims to be easier to use, but even the information about how to transfer my material over to my Substack account is not entirely accurate. And I'm still trying to get the hang of how one publishes there. 

At any rate...if you are interested in possibly following me to Substack and seeing other content from me beyond the sermons...I encourage you to look for me at Susan G Substack

I hope I can get this figured out. And stay tuned for my next sermon...due to arrive in your RSS feed by later tomorrow. 

The Burning Bushes are Calling

 

Hello again. I was away last week at a massage therapy workshop for my Continuing Education hours. It was such a nice break from everything happening in the world. 

It was also an interesting experience to share that I am a priest in additon to being an LMT. One of the women I partnered with asked me which vocation I preferred. I answered that I love both and have always seen massage therapy as a type of ministry. She paused a moment and then definitively told me: "You should do this!" meaning massage. We both laughed and I very much appreciated her confidence in my massage touch. 

But readings such as the call story of Moses with the burning bush remind me--again--how it is that I ended up wearing a stiff white collar around my neck. Because when I least expected it...I was overwhelmed with the message of God's love...and how limitless it is...defying all boundaries and borders that we might want to erect. And that Love was the one constant that could fuel my passion for a more just and equitable society and had a healing balm that could help people free their minds and hearts from burdens that keep them down. 

And I wanted others to discover this truth that is out there and around us. When we tap into that Source of Love...we can survive the storms of this world, and hold fast against those who want to destroy creaton and all the creatures of God in it.

So...do you think I was right to become a priest? Read this and see what you think. 

Texts: Exodus 3:1-15

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When I was a freshman in college…I was asked to take part in an experiment.

One of the guys in my German class was a psychology major and he had to do a project for one of his courses measuring how aware people were of their surroundings.

We were sitting in a classroom…I think there were about ten of us in the room.

My classmate was going over some of the information and forms we needed to sign…the usual protocols for any experimentation like that.

The door opened and this man walked in.

He stopped and looked around at everyone.

We looked at him.

My classmate asked this intruder if he needed something.

The guy looked embarrassed and said something about this clearly not being the class he was supposed to be in…and he left.

My classmate finished his remarks… which probably lasted another five to ten minutes.

We filled out our forms…passed them in…and waited for what was next.

And what came next was my classmate asking us:

“What do you recall about the appearance of the intruder who came in the room?”

Well…by that time…it had probably been about 20 minutes or more.

Most of us hadn’t really paid much attention to this guy.

We’d all done that at some point in our lives…gone to the wrong classroom…and understood how weird he must have felt.

But…could we remember how tall he was?

What was the color of the shirt he was wearing?

Did he have any facial hair or other distinguishing features?

Some were able to give a vague description.

But it was clear that most of us really hadn’t been that observant at all.

We hadn’t taken time to pay enough attention to this person.

And we had not understood that the intruder WAS the experiment…the test of our ability to recall specific information about this unexpected interruption.  

This had me thinking about our First Reading this morning…with Moses and the burning bush.

One of the commentaries I read mentioned that rabbis have wrestled with the question,

“How many others wandered past that burning bush and didn’t turn aside to see why this bush was burning…and” how is it that a bush can be on fire and not be burned to tiny bits?”

How many others simply didn’t pay attention to or even notice this strange and peculiar sight?

How many just walked on by.

The one who did notice was Moses.

Up until that moment…Moses had been minding his own business tending to his father-in-law’s sheep.

But on this particular day…something made him decide to take the flock beyond the wilderness …to the other side of that place of testing and challenge.

When Moses saw the burning bush…he was curious enough to want to stop and pay attention and learn why this bush was burning and not consumed.

That decision to stop… turn and look changed his whole life.

Because while Moses was doing fine being a shepherd…God had a different plan for him.

God had been watching and listening to the cries of the people.

God knew the pain and suffering they’d been enduring under Pharoah.

Now God needs a messenger…a prophet…someone to lead the people.

God knows Moses.

God remembers that fire for justice that burned within him so many years ago when he saw an Egyptian beating a fellow Hebrew slave.

Moses killed that Egyptian.

God saw how Moses defended the daughters of Jethro when shepherds tried to keep them from drawing water for their father’s flock.

God needs Moses.

And now God is calling Moses to turn his abilities to shepherd sheep and put them to use to bring his fellow Israelites out of slavery in Egypt.

And Moses responds like anyone who has ever felt God pulling them out of their comfort zone:

Um…you sure you want me?

You want me to lead?

The answer of course is “Yes, You.”

That’s what happens when we finally stop long enough and take in God’s call to us.

God has that way of interrupting our lives…and refusing to listen to petty excuses.

God does not take No as a legitimate answer to a call.

And yet it seems we keep finding ways to walk on by…either because we aren’t paying close attention…or we don’t have time…or in some cases...we just don’t care.

We started our Playing with the Parables class a couple of weeks ago…and the first parable we worked through was the Good Samaritan.

You remember the story…Jesus talks about the Priest and the Levite who pass by the traveler who had been attacked and was left in the ditch to die.

Biblical scholars and theologians have written about the reasons why these two might have ignored this person.

They were good enough…maybe even legitimate concerns… regarding defiling themselves by touching a bloody body.

But that person needed help.

That soul in the ditch was like a burning bush.

There was a call coming from the ditch…maybe not with words…maybe not from God…but with a situation that was getting ignored…until the antihero Samaritan comes along.  

One of the people who played the victim described what it was like having people walk by without stopping to see if they could help.

It was lonely.

It left them feeling…helpless.

If only someone would’ve paid attention to their desperate need for help.

There are many burning bushes that exist in our world today.

At times…it may feel as if the whole world is on fire.

Affordable housing…availability of treatment for substance abuse…mental healthcare….financial security.

Yesterday…the Celebration of Hope event was about the ways we interact with our environment and the whole care of creation.

And certainly, we know from the hurricanes and floods and wildfires that climate change is a fact and not a fiction.

We can’t ignore this reality that it is getting warmer every year…and the sea levels are rising.

We are not going to be able to just hope the climate crisis goes away.

In the middle of these many burning bushes…there is still that voice…calling.

Perhaps in one of those blazing fiery shrubs…we might recognize God calling to us…by name…in the same way God has called so many over time to pay attention…heed the call…and interrupt our everyday existence to take on the concern of another.

God is still calling to us to take off our socks and shoes…step out of our comfort zone and onto the sacred ground of holy work….and move closer to whatever is the fire that needs addressing.

We can’t do it all.

But we are living in a moment when we can’t afford to walk by the burning bush because of whatever good reason we might have.

Lent is the time to draw us out of our complacency and pay attention to what is happening.

So then…..What is the burning bush that’s calling to you?

Stay awake.

Be aware.

Respond to the call.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

This is a Test

 

Another week in the Disunited States of America. 

Or are we more united than we might be led to believe? I just can't tell anymore. 

What I do know is that as we enter this season of Lent, and we read the story of the temptation of Jesus after his baptism, I am looking longer and harder at how Jesus could withstand the mind games that he had to endure in that moment. How this Satan was attempting to pull him away from God and succumb to the baser instincts of his humanity. 

We are seeing on a large scale what happens to a person who gives in to the lure of money and power. And now, I am reading how some of the people who followed this pied piper are beginning to feel betrayed. Not all of them. Maybe it's less than five percent of them. But still...this early into a presidency, that says something. 

I mean, they wanted lower egg prices. Instead, they're getting thousands of fired park rangers, scientists, and hurricane hunter pilots. And their grocery bills haven't budged. In fact, there is now a surcharge added for eggs at places such as Waffle House. 

This is why Jesus shows us something important about the moment we're in: resistance is the righteous path to take. 

See what you think. 

Text: Luke 4:1-13

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We all know about taking tests.

In school…there were quizzes…multiple choice…essay exams.

Lots of professions…nurses…electricians…teachers… all require passing a test before getting a job.

We might not like them…but really the testing is all part of making sure that a person has the knowledge and the skills to do the work they’re setting out to do.

So while this Gospel story today is often talked about as Jesus getting “tempted by the devil”…we can also consider it Jesus getting tested.

This time in the wilderness is preparing him for the major work that still lies ahead.

A mission to get people back to living their lives deeply grounded and centered on Love.

I know Luke speaks of “the devil.”

And that tends to get us thinking of that character…the red being with horns and a tail and pitchfork.

Maybe it’s easier for us to imagine a physical being like that which we can call “the devil.”

But really “the devil” isn’t some physical being…or demi-God…or deity of any kind.

I tend to follow the line of thinking of a Swiss theologian named Karl Barth.

Barth was one of the contemporaries of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and part of what was called “The Confessing Church.”

They were the religious leaders in Germany who opposed the Nazi takeover of religion.

Barth was a firm believer in the goodness of God and God’s creation.

He believed that only God can create anything…and the very thing that opposed God was actually this shapeless…tasteless…“evil”  that was “nothingness.”

Evil exists…but it’s almost like carbon monoxide.

It tries to sneak in unnoticed and disrupt and destroy the creatures of God…such as you and me…and in this case Jesus.

In my own interpretation…this “nothingness” is always looking for a way to become something.

And I see this nothingness trying to test Jesus in the wilderness.

Will Jesus succumb to nothingness…to the evil and greedy ways of having power over things…or will he stick to the path of God…and remain faithful to building a world of power with the people?

Can Jesus…in this wilderness moment…hold on to the memory of his baptism when the Holy Spirit came to him and he heard the voice saying: “You are my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  

Jesus has been fasting for forty days.

He’s in this land of uncertainty…the lonely and isolated place of wilderness.

He’s famished.

What better time for him to have the devil of nothingness put into his head…

“You’re God’s Son, remember? Turn this stone into bread.”

We know what it’s like to be hungry.

Our stomach is gurgling.

We feel our blood sugar plummeting and we’re getting shaky.

Think of those moments and realize that Jesus is feeling all of that.

And while we’re at it…think of another story where food becomes so tempting.

In the Book of Genesis…that nothingness comes in the form of the crafty serpent who spoke to Eve in the Garden of Eden:

“Did God say you shall not eat of any tree in the garden?”

And Eve tells the serpent they may eat the fruit of the trees in the garden… except that one in the middle…the Tree of Knowledge. If they eat that fruit…they will die.

“Ahhhh”….says the serpent…”you aren’t gonna die. You’ll just know good and evil. You’d like to know good and evil…right?”

And that fruit was so beautiful….so tempting.

And Eve ate the apple…and shared it with an unquestioning Adam.

Jesus knows this story all too well.

As a good Jew…he knows that this is the story his people tell to explain how humans came to be separated from God.

And so despite whatever hunger pangs he may be feeling his answer to this first test question is:

“No, I will not make this stone into bread.

I know what you’re trying to do here, devil.

And I remember that when my people ate the manna in the wilderness…they were warned not to rely on bread alone.”

So… Jesus has passed this test.

But the examination isn’t over.

The weakened-by-hunger Jesus gets to see all the kingdoms of the world. These could all be his…everything of the world…if he will follow this voice beckoning to him to surrender to the human-driven desire to have power over others.

Many of us wrestle with this one in our lives regularly.

Whenever we’re in a position of authority…either at our jobs…or in our families… we must consider how far do we exercise our authority.

And there’s always the temptation to use the power we’re given in ways that puff up ourselves by tearing someone else down.

Think of the memes on social media that get moved around at lightening speed…collecting “likes” and “hearts” and “ha-ha” emojis….without asking:

 Is this information true?

Is it necessary to share?

Is it kind?

When I was a reporter covering Florida politics…one of the most depressing things that I witnessed was seeing the way power corrupted newly elected legislators.

These were people who would arrive into these elected positions with such high hopes that they would be able to do good work and serve the people.

And within about three weeks…I could see the shine wearing off.

The lure of power over others made them turn on some of the constituent groups that had helped get them into office in the first place.

Like Adam and Eve…they had taken a bite of the apple of power…and it had turned their hearts to stone.

Jesus answers the second question of this test with a “No thanks. I know what it says in Deuteronomy. I’m worshipping the real God…and I’m not in this for the false God of Dominance and Empire.”

Still…this nothingness is determined…and tries a third time…another test question.

The devil basically says, “If you’re the Son of God: prove it.  Let’s see if God will catch you when you fall?”

This is truly an evil thought to put in the head of someone who is famished.

It’s also an attempt to get Jesus to invoke his divinity…and by doing that…separate himself from us…by using his divine power and cancelling his humanity.

Jesus…once more…is able to summon up his strength to quote from Deuteronomy:

“Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

The exam is finished.

Jesus scores a perfect A… three out of three.

He passes with flying colors.

But there is this last phrase…that devil departs from him “until an opportune time.”

Jesus will be tested again and again.

Because nothingness will keep looking for ways to get him to stumble and fall and turn away from his mission of spreading love.

We are also tested again and again.

There are so many forces…those unseen and hidden ways…that evil keeps looking for that crack…that opening…in which to infiltrate our hearts and minds…and elevate that part of us that harbors hurt…and jealousy…and rage.

It wants to draw us into that place where we stop seeing each other as the beloved and beautifully made children of God…and turn us against one another.

There are those with the megaphones of media who want to spread fear of anyone seen as different…and convince us that empathy is of the devil.

The natural temptation when hit with so much negativity is to withdraw and pull away…hide under the covers.

But Jesus has shown us that even when we are feeling at our weakest…the right answer to the test questions is not to despair or give in but to resist the evil that wants to infect us.

It’s not easy to do…and we will not always do it well.

That’s the most beautiful part of our Baptismal Covenant.

When we promise to “persevere in resisting evil” it quickly follows that we whenever we don’t do it…”we will repent and return to the Lord” (BCP 304).

It’s not an “if.”

It’s a “when.”

And it’s OK to admit that…to acknowledge that we will not always get it right.

There is a lot of resisting that has to happen in the world today…and a lot of repenting and returning to God in that process.

Together…we can help each other through this wilderness during Lent.

And with God’s help…we will arrive at Easter…having passed the tests presented to us in this time.

In the Name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tears Will Keep Us Together

Some of you may remember the 1970s Captain and Tennille hit, "Love Will Keep Us Together." 

I'm calling this entry "Tears Will Keep Us Together" because I think we are all overdue for a collective cry in the face of the madness that is swirling around us. 

And I think it is through our crying that we can arrive at the realization that for those who are wondering, "Where is our God?"...the answer is "in community." 

COVID forced us apart. Now is the time to pull together because we are going to need to lean on each other and work together if we want to maintain the ideals of this country: life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.

With God's help, we can get there.

Text: primarily Psalm 51

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Normally…when I preach a sermon…I like to focus on the readings we’ve just heard.

I like to expand upon them…maybe fill in some gaps here and there…offer a slightly different take on familiar passages.

And the longer I sat with all the readings from this service for Ash Wednesday…I found myself drawn to a part of our opening collect…and how it confirms the words at the end of Psalm 51.

Specifically…I want us to remember these two ideas…and keep them close…and let them sink in:

“Almighty and everlasting God…you hate nothing you have made…”

And from Psalm 51…which we will be reading later…

“The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit;

a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”

God hates nothing God has made. That means God does not hate you, or me, or anyone. 

God’s only requirement is for us to bring our broken and remorseful hearts to God’s altar.

These are the words that felt the most important for a time such as this.

We’re living in a moment in this country where so many are feeling that up is down and down is up.

The very core teachings of our faith…things such as having empathy for other people…seeking to build a more just society for all…following the Biblical mandate to welcome the stranger…simply showing loving-kindness to one another…these are getting ridiculed…tossed aside as weak…labeled unpatriotic.

Even…by some…these ideas have been called “demonic.”

I mean…Bishop Mariann Budde…who is definitely not one of those in the ranks of the purple shirts looking to be the center of attention…came in for harsh criticism for asking the President to be merciful toward minority groups feeling afraid.

Five Georgia Congressional representatives signed onto a House Resolution to censure her.

Such legislative attacks are performative and silly.

The Episcopal Church is religious denomination and not a branch of government.

And yet they are heartbreaking.

Our basic values…the core of our faith…and the ability for us to live as E Pluribus Unum in this country…is under daily assault.

I admit…it has left me at times…shedding some tears.

Perhaps…some of you have cried, too.

But…despite what might pass for conventional wisdom in the world…I will tell you that tears are good.

They’re normal.

They’re not signs of weakness.

On the contrary…they are signs of strength because we care.

About ourselves.

About other people.

About the beautiful creation that surrounds us.

And about goodness…fairness…and justice.

My wife shared with me a blog written by a Roman Catholic priest in Wisconsin named Father Derek Sakowski.

Father Derek describes tears as “a precious gift from God.”

Rather than be fearful or ashamed of our tears…we should see them as God’s way of helping us to let go and acknowledge that we really aren’t super humans.

We have countless examples in the Scriptures that confirm the importance and rightness of our tears:

Jesus wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus.

Mary Magdalene wept at the tomb of Jesus before she saw his resurrected self standing in the garden.

Peter…who was so wanting to be heroic and stand by Jesus in Jerusalem…wept when he heard the cock crow a third time and realized he had let his friend and teacher down…just as Jesus had predicted.

We heard this recently…Joseph and his brothers wept when they discovered that this youngest son of Jacob who the brothers had abused and sold into slavery…was alive and was in a position to save them from famine and death.

And of course…Psalm 51 is King David’s lament over his failures…both as a leader and as a man.

By bringing our tears…our broken and contrite hearts before God…it’s a way for us to say…without words…”I need help.”

And we do need help.  

Think about our responses to those five pledges we make in the Baptismal Covenant.

We cannot accomplish the tasks of staying with God in prayer, resisting evil, proclaiming God’s Good News in word and example, seeing Christ in all people, and respecting the dignity of every human being as we strive for justice and peace….we cannot accomplish any of those laudable goals without God’s help.

And that means…we can’t do the work of Love without each other.

Lent is often seen as a time…and was once upon a time…a period in which the faithful and sin sick people of God separated themselves from community.

I would offer that we do not do that now.

Now…perhaps more than at any other time…is a time for us not to go our separate ways and “give up” on each other.

Rather we need to find ways to come together…in mindfulness and loving kindness…and drop this idea that our rugged individualism makes us strong.

This is the false self…the front we put up for others…in our effort to project some idea of what it means to be “tough.”

Perhaps the thing we “give up” this Lent is our pulling away from each other…our diehard self-reliance… and recognize that we need community.

Because it is in community where we find the Spirit of God….and that sense that we belong to something greater than ourselves.

Maybe our tears are a way of clearing our eyes…and giving us a chance to see each other as siblings in Christ…with our quirks and particular gifts…as we keep on the journey with Jesus…to the cross…through his death…and into a resurrected life.

It could be that this is the Lent where our tears…having watered the garden of our hurt and anger and frustration at things happening in the world…will grow the garden of that tiny mustard seed planted in us at our Baptism: that seed of a faith in a Love that will never be defeated.

Because Love is the best antidote to a culture of self-centeredness and death.

For this Lent…may we rediscover our connections and our interdependence on God and each other…and this be the beginning of building the bonds that will sustain us in times of sorrow and remind us of the joy of friendship.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.