What happened? The contrast between last week’s portrayal of John the Baptizer and this week’s could not be more opposed. Yesterday the Forerunner of Christ Jesus was embodying Isaiah’s “Prepare the way of the Lord,” but this coming Sunday he will be shouting, “You brood of vipers!” Last week it was baptism and forgiveness. This week it’s the axe already lying at the root of the tree and a winnowing fork ready to separate. Last week it was “All flesh shall see the salvation of God.” This week it’s the chaff burning in an unquenchable fire. Where did the cuddly, camel-hair-wearing John the Baptist go? Why is there such a difference between last week and this week?
Well, the truth is there is no difference. That’s right! You heard me! That one who cried of a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins is the same one who laid out what repentance looks like for the audience in this week’s Good News (and yes, it is Good News!). So why does it feel so different? How can we be so okay with John’s prophetic message last week, but so uncomfortable with it now? Before I try to answer that, let me ask you to think about something. I want you to remember a time when you were wrong. Ready, go!
Thinking…
Thinking…
Got it?
Well, let me clarify what I mean by a time when you were wrong. I’m not talking about a time when someone else thought you were wrong and you thought you were right, like a difference of opinions about something trivial. I mean a time when you were actually wrong—maybe even about something big. You knew you were wrong. That other person knew you were wrong. And, that other person called you out on it. You sweating a little just thinking about it? Yeah, me too.
That time when you were wrong, you knew you were wrong, someone else knew you were wrong, and that someone called you out about it—that situation is what happened in this week’s Gospel lesson. John was not saying that the religious leaders had a different opinion than his about God. This was not varying points of view. John had been around, he had grown up in the Temple culture, and he saw the injustices being carried out there against God’s People (specifically the poor, the widowed, the orphaned, and the otherwise disadvantaged). Thus, John called out those leaders. And, what is more, those religious leaders sat there and they took it, which provides further evidence that they were wrong and they knew they were wrong.
Now, let me have a moment for an aside. I am not saying that John claimed somehow that all of Judaism was wrong. John, himself raised in that Faith, was calling out the religious elite for failing to fulfill their calling as appointed shepherds to nourish God’s sheep. Furthermore, this was not an example of a Christian ideal supplanting a Jewish one, but rather it was an instance when God’s universal concept of justice was being mishandled by leaders—in much the same way that we see contemporary leaders across religions turn a blind eye to those who are suffering. So with this aside out of the way, let’s come back to specifically looking at how one might approach preaching this text on Sunday.
John speaks something that was hard for religious leaders, as well as tax collectors, soldiers, and the masses to hear, make no mistake about that. Still when they heard the (capital T) Truth, it halted them where they were. Such that they had to know what to do next, which is why they asked their questions, "Teacher, what should we do?" In the same, we cannot outrun the Truth, nor hide from it, nor make it disappear. What John the Baptist said to those at the Jordan long ago might not be exactly what Christ’s Prophet would say to us, but make no mistake God has words for us that will stop us indefinitely. Hearing the Truth that convict us, that halt us, that stop us might not be pleasant, but God’s movement in this world is not about comfort or convenience or pleasure. Even in our squirming though there is Good News.
The convicting words of God’s prophets are not meant to shame us into submission, but rather they challenge us to see where we have gone astray, provide us with a way of repentance, and lead us into transformation through the forgiveness of sins. In this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson we are given this marvelous three-fold movement—conviction, repentance, and forgiveness. And, in Truth that is precisely how John the Baptizer was described in last week’s Gospel lesson too! The question is will we be bold enough to hear God's convicting words, walk the challenging path of repentance, and be transformed by forgiveness in the figurative (and sometimes literal) waters of baptism?
As we move through this journey of Advent, we have a great opportunity given to us in John’s words. During the time when we wait and watch for the coming of Christ, we have an invitation to contemplate where we have trespassed against God’s people and God's movement. Where have you been wrong? What is so convicting that you know you must turn around from it? Is there something for which you desire forgiveness? Take the time to be convicted, to repent, and to experience God’s forgiveness. For though God is infinitely near us when we have wronged, sinned, and gone astray without turning around, we block our own experience of God's love, grace, and forgiveness!
Monday, December 10, 2018
Thursday, December 6, 2018
Just Three Sentences
Three sentences. That’s all we get in this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson, but boy did Luke pack a lot into them! Here they are, plus a quick summation afterward:
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"
The first sentence lays out the leaders in place within the Roman Empire, some Middle Eastern territories, and the Temple power structure during the First Century. Strangely though, this list of names concludes with the word of God coming not to them, but to John instead. In the next sentence, we discover that this Son of Zechariah is going around the Jordan preaching about baptism and the forgiveness of sins. (By the way, Zechariah was a Temple priest himself, which made John a preacher's kid.) The second sentence even includes a bit from Isaiah, as proof that John is fitting something foretold by the prophet of old. In the end of that sentence and through the entire third sentence, we discover what the word of God looked like as it was revealed to and through John—low places made high, rough spots smoothed, and all flesh viewing God’s salvific work. That’s the quick and dirty of those three sentences.
Now, on some level these overly full sentences seem straightforward. However, as I step away from them I feel like I tried drinking a nice glass of lemonade, but was instead given a highly concentrated cup of a little water and a lot of Country Time mix—there is so much present here. So, what was Luke getting at with these overloaded statements about the forerunner of Jesus?
Three different vital themes emerge that appear worth noting and exploring for a sermon this Sunday. First, Luke portrays the word of God coming not to those who sit upon thrones or seats of honor, but rather to a mangy preacher’s kid (PK) who is camping out by the River Jordan. To contemporize this statement into our modern time and the Diocese of Alabama context, it would be like thinking that God’s message is flowing through our bishops and priests only to discover that God’s word is to be found with some PK slung out in her camping hammock at Camp McDowell. Where is God unexpectedly bursting into our lives or surprising us through contemporary prophets? Or perhaps a better question is through whom is God unpredictably speaking now? The first theme thus is God speaks through shocking media then and now.
Second, the appealing message that John proclaimed focused upon God’s forgiveness and our need to turn towards God. This message stood out as appealing because so many of the methods for making oneself right with God during that day and age centered around offering a sacrifice. While God does love our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, God does not wait to forgive or love us until we offer up something in return. Rather, once we receive the overwhelming grace that God freely gives, we find ourselves wanting to sacrifice something as a way of responding to God with gratitude. God’s grace calls us to turn toward God and fills us up when we see any and all sins washed away. So, this second theme emanates from John preaching a message of turning back to God and receiving God’s forgiveness outside the normal religious protocol of the day.
Finally, the words from Isaiah depict what we will do as we greet Our Lord and experience the transformation that is repentance and forgiveness. Some may look at the natural images in this passage literally; however, given that John ran outside the normal boundaries of society we might do well to look at some other layers to his words. Through Isaiah John was pointing to the raising up of the poor while the greedy got their comeuppance. And, as we experience God’s overwhelming love that calls us back home, we are called to make the Savior’s way straight to everyone by aiding in God’s salvific work. This is one way in which we see God's Salvation happening. This theme of responding to God’s powerful salvation by turning towards and taking part in God’s work in this world brings this reading to a close. It also calls us not just to see this as an ancient story.
The first sentence lays out the leaders in place within the Roman Empire, some Middle Eastern territories, and the Temple power structure during the First Century. Strangely though, this list of names concludes with the word of God coming not to them, but to John instead. In the next sentence, we discover that this Son of Zechariah is going around the Jordan preaching about baptism and the forgiveness of sins. (By the way, Zechariah was a Temple priest himself, which made John a preacher's kid.) The second sentence even includes a bit from Isaiah, as proof that John is fitting something foretold by the prophet of old. In the end of that sentence and through the entire third sentence, we discover what the word of God looked like as it was revealed to and through John—low places made high, rough spots smoothed, and all flesh viewing God’s salvific work. That’s the quick and dirty of those three sentences.
Now, on some level these overly full sentences seem straightforward. However, as I step away from them I feel like I tried drinking a nice glass of lemonade, but was instead given a highly concentrated cup of a little water and a lot of Country Time mix—there is so much present here. So, what was Luke getting at with these overloaded statements about the forerunner of Jesus?
Three different vital themes emerge that appear worth noting and exploring for a sermon this Sunday. First, Luke portrays the word of God coming not to those who sit upon thrones or seats of honor, but rather to a mangy preacher’s kid (PK) who is camping out by the River Jordan. To contemporize this statement into our modern time and the Diocese of Alabama context, it would be like thinking that God’s message is flowing through our bishops and priests only to discover that God’s word is to be found with some PK slung out in her camping hammock at Camp McDowell. Where is God unexpectedly bursting into our lives or surprising us through contemporary prophets? Or perhaps a better question is through whom is God unpredictably speaking now? The first theme thus is God speaks through shocking media then and now.
Second, the appealing message that John proclaimed focused upon God’s forgiveness and our need to turn towards God. This message stood out as appealing because so many of the methods for making oneself right with God during that day and age centered around offering a sacrifice. While God does love our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, God does not wait to forgive or love us until we offer up something in return. Rather, once we receive the overwhelming grace that God freely gives, we find ourselves wanting to sacrifice something as a way of responding to God with gratitude. God’s grace calls us to turn toward God and fills us up when we see any and all sins washed away. So, this second theme emanates from John preaching a message of turning back to God and receiving God’s forgiveness outside the normal religious protocol of the day.
Finally, the words from Isaiah depict what we will do as we greet Our Lord and experience the transformation that is repentance and forgiveness. Some may look at the natural images in this passage literally; however, given that John ran outside the normal boundaries of society we might do well to look at some other layers to his words. Through Isaiah John was pointing to the raising up of the poor while the greedy got their comeuppance. And, as we experience God’s overwhelming love that calls us back home, we are called to make the Savior’s way straight to everyone by aiding in God’s salvific work. This is one way in which we see God's Salvation happening. This theme of responding to God’s powerful salvation by turning towards and taking part in God’s work in this world brings this reading to a close. It also calls us not just to see this as an ancient story.
As we continue through our Advent journey when we remember Christ’s coming in Jesus, observe Christ coming to us now, and look for Christ fulfilling of all things in the end, we are invited to be a part of God’s work of salvation now. We are called to know that God’s salvation brings us healing without having to appease any religious bureaucracy. We are called to know that no matter how strange the means God is speaking to us to come back home, so that we may live the fullest life right now. Wow, all that in just three sentences!
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Christ Coming To Us In The Present
 |
| A wonderful Advent invitation. |
This sermon was preached on the First Sunday of Advent. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:
Jeremiah 33:14-16 Luke 21:25-36
Is there a better way to get in the holiday spirit than to faint with fear? Or, perhaps the best way to ready ourselves for Christmas is to stare anxiously at the sun, the moon, and the stars? How about taking note of all the distress among (and within) nations as we pray for peace on earth and good will towards all?
Today’s Gospel lesson starts out with such foreboding language: “Signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” This is not exactly the Christmas sentiment pasted inside of a Hallmark card. So, what gives? Why are we hearing an adult Jesus speaking of His second coming at the End of Days, instead of looking at the cooing baby Jesus in the manger?
Well, unlike seemingly the rest of society, we are not yet in full-blown Christmas mode, but instead just beginning the Season of Advent. What’s Advent you say? Oh, I’m so glad you asked.
The word “advent” has its roots in a Latin word, which means “to come towards.” As in, God is coming towards us. Advent is the first season of the Church Year, so Happy New Year friends! It is a season when we contemplate and celebrate God coming to us. We remember the anticipation that was felt for millennia as God’s people looked for the coming of a Savior. We get ready ourselves for the Christ child’s coming. And, oddly enough we look ahead towards the fulfilling of all things when Christ will come again—the Day of Judgment!
When a very official polling was done—at Theology on Tap awhile back—Advent emerged as the respondents’ favorite Liturgical Season. And why not? It has great music. There are fascinating characters like John the Baptizer, faithful Joseph, and the Blessed Virgin Mary. Plus, there are cool props like Advent wreaths and Advent calendars. But, what I think people love most about Advent is the theme of eternal judgment, which we will endure at the culmination of all things! Right? Okay, certainly not. However, I cannot help but honestly believe the fulfilling of all things does have something to do with our love of this season.
In this time when we look back at Christ’s first coming in the person of Jesus of Nazareth and look forward to Christ’s final coming at the end, I cannot help but see that we are often overlooking my favorite aspect of Advent: the present. No, not the presents that will be waiting under the Christmas tree. I mean the present moment when Christ comes to us. This aspect of Advent might not make it onto everyone’s list of reasons why they love this season, but I think the present has everything to do with why we love this time, Christ fulfilling all things, and what Jesus said in today’s Gospel lesson. It’s all about the present!
At this time of year, we often get bogged down with “the too-much-ness of it all.” Getting gifts, making memories, decorating houses, and all the while hoping that we will feel the joy that our children and grandchildren often do at this time of year. But, in the attempts to do it all, we somehow miss that God is coming to us now, even when everything isn’t already done, even before Christmas Day, even though this is not the End of Days. Jesus’ words reflect a calling to pay attention to God’s coming right now here amidst everything that is undone and among so many distractions.
Usually things like the sun, the moon, the stars, and the waves are beautiful testimonies of God’s handiwork. And yet, in today’s Gospel lesson everyone is confused by those things. What is worse, people are so filled with fear and fright that they are fainting. If we get so worried about what is to come—whether during the busy holiday season or the End of Days—if we get so upset about these coming events that we are fainting, then I believe we are not faithfully living in the present. We are not seeing that God comes to us right now.
As Jesus put it, “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap.” (Or, to quote the Star Wars character Admiral Ackbar, “It’s a trap!”) Don’t get caught up in the traps of the past or the future. Instead pay attention. Be alert. Wait and watch for the coming of Christ. All of this sounds so lovely, but how, oh how, are we to do this during the busyness of this time of year?
In this Gospel lesson, Jesus described both the natural and man-made world causing people consternation. All these things around us in our lives distract us. They can, as we see with the examples of drunkenness and worrying, be such toxic and addicting things that we might have a hard time letting go of them even if we want to do just that. Christ here calls us not to be distracted by all these things, but instead to see those wonderful and terrible events of our lives as indicators that Christ is coming. That Christ is here. But, to see Christ we must be attentive.
One of my favorite Advent phrases is “Slow down. Be quiet. It’s Advent.” This calling has everything to do with why this season is so beloved by so many. During Advent, we are called by God through the Church to not let the frantic nature of the rest of our lives distract us from God coming to be with us now. And this reality mysteriously redeems for me even the strange and fearful language found in the opening bits of today’s lesson.
Do not be distracted during this season of Advent when God comes to us. Don’t let the sun, the moon, the stars, or the rolling and roaring tide cause you trouble. Don’t be weighed down by drunkenness or worry. Forget the shopping, the to-do’s, and the decorating for now. Instead slow down, be quiet, and realize that Christ is coming to you right now.
Wednesday, November 28, 2018
Step Out of the Shadow
This sermon was preached on the transferred Feast Day of Saint Andrew, Apostle of Jesus. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:
Romans 10:8b-18
Matthew 4:18-22
Psalm 19 or 19:1-6
Here in Decatur there are a couple of pertinent questions that people ask someone whom they’ve never met. “Where are you from?” “What church do you go to?” and “Who are you kin to?” It took me some time when I moved here to get accustomed to such questions. While all three of these inquiries are helpful, today I want to zoom in on the third.
Understanding family connections is crucial. As a parishioner once told me, “Make sure you who someone is related to in the church before you say anything about anyone else.” While I would take it further to challenge myself and us all to speak with kindness about everyone, I get that parishioner’s sentiment. Family connection is crucial, especially here in the South. This lesson emerged in my own childhood going to camp.
When I first went to Camp Winnataska I loved it. I wanted to go back any chance I had. However, I wasn’t the only one in my family who had a great love for camp. My great grandmother was one of the first campers there. My grandmother and mother had gone there. And, my sister, who is eight years older than me, was an older camper, then a leader, and a staff member there. So, even though I had my own relationship with camp, I was almost always introduced as Elin’s younger brother.
Over the years though, that introduction changed. When my sister stopped being on staff and served as a director (only one week of the summer) the connection shifted. My elder sibling was introduced as Seth’s older sister. While this may not seem like much, that shift made a huge impact on me. I had stepped out of the shadow of my sister and had my own identity. Similarly I believe we must take the saint whom we celebrate today out of the shadow of his brother to celebrate him for who he truly was.
Andrew, according to Saint John’s telling of the story—and we like Saint John here—was a disciple of John the Baptist. One day the Baptizer pointed out Jesus to Andrew and another disciple, saying “Behold the Lamb of God” (John 1:29). Instead of hanging back, and perhaps waiting on his brother, Andrew began following Jesus around, spending time with Him, and even believing Him to be the Messiah. Andrew so quickly believed that he went to his brother Simon to share this good news with him. Without Andrew, we would have no Simon Peter.
Saint Andrew was the first disciple, an evangelist to the disciples, and one who stayed right outside of the spotlight. However, if we simply forget his ministry, then we may forget our own calling to bring others to Christ. When many were hungry and had nothing to eat, Andrew found a little boy with fish and loaves. When in Matthew’s Gospel account Jesus called Andrew he immediately responded by leaving his fishing nets to follow Our Lord. When in his latter ministry he faced persecution and eventually martyrdom Andrew did not shy away from living into his calling.
We sometimes make it out to say that Andrew lived in the shadow of Simon Peter. We might sometimes introduce Andrew as Peter’s brother. However Andrew’s pioneering belief in Jesus, his ability to bring others to Christ, and his lasting faith even in persecution makes him stand alone. Saint Peter? Yes, that’s Saint Andrew’s brother!
Romans 10:8b-18
Matthew 4:18-22
Psalm 19 or 19:1-6
Here in Decatur there are a couple of pertinent questions that people ask someone whom they’ve never met. “Where are you from?” “What church do you go to?” and “Who are you kin to?” It took me some time when I moved here to get accustomed to such questions. While all three of these inquiries are helpful, today I want to zoom in on the third.
Understanding family connections is crucial. As a parishioner once told me, “Make sure you who someone is related to in the church before you say anything about anyone else.” While I would take it further to challenge myself and us all to speak with kindness about everyone, I get that parishioner’s sentiment. Family connection is crucial, especially here in the South. This lesson emerged in my own childhood going to camp.
When I first went to Camp Winnataska I loved it. I wanted to go back any chance I had. However, I wasn’t the only one in my family who had a great love for camp. My great grandmother was one of the first campers there. My grandmother and mother had gone there. And, my sister, who is eight years older than me, was an older camper, then a leader, and a staff member there. So, even though I had my own relationship with camp, I was almost always introduced as Elin’s younger brother.
Over the years though, that introduction changed. When my sister stopped being on staff and served as a director (only one week of the summer) the connection shifted. My elder sibling was introduced as Seth’s older sister. While this may not seem like much, that shift made a huge impact on me. I had stepped out of the shadow of my sister and had my own identity. Similarly I believe we must take the saint whom we celebrate today out of the shadow of his brother to celebrate him for who he truly was.
Today we remember Saint Andrew, an Apostle of Jesus. Often we recall first and foremost that Andrew was Simon Peter’s brother. However, as soon as we do this, we overlook almost every aspect of Andrew’s life and ministry. In doing this we miss the example that today’s saint gives us for living a life dedicated to living out of Christ’s grace and love.
Andrew, according to Saint John’s telling of the story—and we like Saint John here—was a disciple of John the Baptist. One day the Baptizer pointed out Jesus to Andrew and another disciple, saying “Behold the Lamb of God” (John 1:29). Instead of hanging back, and perhaps waiting on his brother, Andrew began following Jesus around, spending time with Him, and even believing Him to be the Messiah. Andrew so quickly believed that he went to his brother Simon to share this good news with him. Without Andrew, we would have no Simon Peter.
Saint Andrew was the first disciple, an evangelist to the disciples, and one who stayed right outside of the spotlight. However, if we simply forget his ministry, then we may forget our own calling to bring others to Christ. When many were hungry and had nothing to eat, Andrew found a little boy with fish and loaves. When in Matthew’s Gospel account Jesus called Andrew he immediately responded by leaving his fishing nets to follow Our Lord. When in his latter ministry he faced persecution and eventually martyrdom Andrew did not shy away from living into his calling.
We sometimes make it out to say that Andrew lived in the shadow of Simon Peter. We might sometimes introduce Andrew as Peter’s brother. However Andrew’s pioneering belief in Jesus, his ability to bring others to Christ, and his lasting faith even in persecution makes him stand alone. Saint Peter? Yes, that’s Saint Andrew’s brother!
Wednesday, November 21, 2018
Pray Twice
 |
| Our Church has been gifted mightily by its musicians and our Hymnal is a treasure trove of these gifts. |
This sermon was preached on
the Feast Day of William Byrd, John Merbecke, and Thomas Tallis. The readings
which inspired the sermon were the following:
Now, when Evan Garner was still here I loved these meetings because watching Foster Bailey and Evan negotiate hymn selections was like watching two seasoned boxers go toe-to-toe for twelve rounds. I often felt like the underqualified referee who tried desperately to keep the fighters from taking any low blows, punching after the bell, or biting anyone’s ear off. The conversations now are a little less lively, but nonetheless they are times when I genuinely look forward to attending a meeting. Why is this? I’ll give you three reasons.
First, and please don’t tell him this, but I have learned so much about church music from our organist. I say don’t tell him because he’s insufferable already. Still, he has always been brutally honest with me about things I can do better, and he’s also shared so much about what makes for good church music—most notably, that people can actually sing the hymns we choose! So, during these meetings I joyfully look forward to figuring out what pieces both apply to the church season or day and get people singing.
Second, I look forward to attending our church music planning meetings because it is amazing to watch how we can weave together music, readings, prayers, and eventually sermons to fit a day or a season perfectly. Sometimes parishioners remark about how great everything fell into place on a given day. Well, I am sad to break it to you but there is a lot of prayerful planning, probably a couple of arguments, and of course God’s Spirit that leads to making those selections. In other words, our liturgy doesn’t magically fall into place. Still sometimes even I am taken aback at how perfectly our songs reflect everything else in the liturgy.
Finally, I happily anticipate music planning meetings because in them I am always reminded that to sing is to pray twice, as St. Augustine is supposed to have said. Yes, sometimes I needed to pray not twice but continually when Evan and Foster were arguing over hymns. And yet, so often during a service I get most lost in prayer when I am singing. During other parts of the service I might be so focused on what I need to be doing (“Am I holding my hands right?” “Did I annunciate that prayer well?” “Was I smiling or frowning during the Eucharistic Prayer?”). However, when we sing I receive the great gift like the rest of us to pray doubly. And, we not only have our own church musicians to thank for that, but also those who came in ages past, like the saints whom we celebrate today.
John Merbecke, Thomas Tallis, and William Byrd were church musicians in the 15th and 16th Centuries. Merbecke composed a musical setting to accompany the 1549 Prayer Book. Tallis survived four monarch shifts back and forth from Catholic to Protestant, and all the while he provided for the changing needs of the Church of England. Perhaps that is why he is known as the father of English Church music since the Reformation. Byrd composed mass settings, motets, graduals, psalm settings, anthems, and hymns for the great feast days of the Church. Tallis and Byrd even combined for some years and held the Crown Patent for the printing of sheet music. These musicians and so many others have given us a treasure trove of songs to sing. And, they have been ones who help our music and our liturgy to be a sacrifice of praise, worship, and thanksgiving.
As we celebrate the feast of Thanksgiving tonight and tomorrow, may we with joyful hearts be grateful for Church musicians throughout the ages. They may at times be insufferable, pigheaded, irreverent prima donnas. However, they help us to pray twice as we sing songs that bring us into not only describing who God is, but also participating in the wonder, love, and praise of Our Lord. And for that, thanks be to God. Amen.
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Going Home
This sermon was preached at the Burial of the Dead for Florence
Herbet Turpin. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:
Isaiah 25:6-9
Revelation 7:9-17
John 14:1-6
It is never good to play favorites. This is sound advice when dealing with children, and I think it’s also true when working in a church. A priest ought not to have preferred parishioners; however, I must confess my friends, for if this is the mark, then I have surely missed it. You see, I always looked forward to visiting Florence Turpin with a secret joy rivaled by few others, and I guess now that is not such a secret. Whew, it feels better to get that off my chest.
Whenever I visited with Flo she wanted me to come over to give her a big hug. The hug was even bigger if I had brought her a beloved chocolate milkshake. These visits were so easy and fun because Dadaw, as she was known by her family, was the consummate host. Even if she was confined to a small room in a nursing facility, her over 30 years providing hospitality in the restaurant industry shined through. Every time it was like she was welcoming me to a newly renovated eatery. Of course, not every one of those visits was chipper.
Over the last few years Florence faced continuing health challenges with surgeries, multiple strokes, and memory loss. On top of these issues, Flo struggled with guilt, was often irritable, and always stubborn. Through it all though, she managed to stay herself. She was always authentically, genuinely, 100% Flo. And, quite often that meant that comedy was the way that she kept going.
Flo was funny. Like when she reflected on where she had learned how to feel guilty about things for far too long. She was long ago a Catholic girl with coke bottle thick glasses growing up on the Mississippi Delta, not exactly the best place to be Catholic or a girl or four-eyed. It was a world that valued so many things that she was not. So, Florence found a way to rise above by joking. She used to compare herself to Sammy Davis Jr. who famously said he had more strikes against him than ought to be allowed as he was "short, maimed, ugly,black, Jewish, gaudy, and uneducated." Florence may not have had as many strikes, but she nonetheless always kept fighting until she got her way.
Even when she was irritable, she found ways to make herself and others crack up. Like the times when she was upset with her neighbors at the Terrace. She would ask, “Why are there so many damn Baptists out here? Where are the Good Episcopalians? These people don’t know how to play Mexican Dominoes the right way... like they do at Riverside.”
And, her habit of stubbornly holding onto her way even when her children, and grandchildren, and other family and friends would try to convince her of another way was both challenging and impressive. One doesn’t run as many restaurants as she did without having the stubbornness of a mule. While she was not trying to be funny, there is something amusing to me about how Flo so willfully held to the belief that the last place she lived was always so much better than the place where she was currently living.
Natchez and the Mississippi Delta was her home for so long. And, the friendships she had there were lifelong bonds. The joy that Howard and her shared with others, especially as they went out to dinner and danced most Fridays nights revealed Flo’s fun-loving nature. But, after Howard’s death when she had to move to Decatur it seemed like she was always looking backwards.
She first lived at Riverside Senior Living, but there she missed Mississippi. Then she had to have some more serious care after some complications, so she moved to the Terrace… where she missed the friends, the food, and the Mexican Dominoes of Riverside. As her memory worsened she had to move to Summerford in Falkville, and there she missed the independence she had at the Terrace. What strikes me is that it’s hard to live life in reverse, always looking backwards. But, Florence missed her home, and towards the end I don’t think it was just her Mississippi home that she longed for.
Over the last few weeks Flo kept saying that she was seeing a man in a suit. No one else ever saw that man in a suit. Finally Dodie asked her who it was. Flo said it was her late husband Howard. Was she just hallucinating? I don’t think so.
He was coming back to make sure Flo knew the way to the place where Christ leads us all. And, Flo kept looking past people around her these last few days, as though she was looking to that forever home where we will all one day reside in God’s infinite love. Christ shows us the way, the truth, and the life in how he lived, in how he died, and in how he rose again.
In her guilt and irritability and stubbornness I imagine that Flo, like the rest of us with our own faults, might have struggled with making that walk back home. Howard must have finally convinced her though that if she held out much longer they would have missed their dancing and dinner with all their friends last Friday night in their new eternal home. And, so Flo went home.
As we give Dadaw, Flo, Herb, Florence over to God who has always had her and always will have her, we look ahead to that day when we will all feast together on God’s Holy Mountain. When we will walk more closely with our Good Shepherd. When we will no longer hunger or thirst. When we will be together in God’s eternal home. When we know that we are all God’s favorite. And, there we can again dance and laugh and feast with Flo and all the others who go before us. Welcome home Flo. I know you will like this one the best!
Isaiah 25:6-9
Revelation 7:9-17
John 14:1-6
It is never good to play favorites. This is sound advice when dealing with children, and I think it’s also true when working in a church. A priest ought not to have preferred parishioners; however, I must confess my friends, for if this is the mark, then I have surely missed it. You see, I always looked forward to visiting Florence Turpin with a secret joy rivaled by few others, and I guess now that is not such a secret. Whew, it feels better to get that off my chest.
Whenever I visited with Flo she wanted me to come over to give her a big hug. The hug was even bigger if I had brought her a beloved chocolate milkshake. These visits were so easy and fun because Dadaw, as she was known by her family, was the consummate host. Even if she was confined to a small room in a nursing facility, her over 30 years providing hospitality in the restaurant industry shined through. Every time it was like she was welcoming me to a newly renovated eatery. Of course, not every one of those visits was chipper.
Over the last few years Florence faced continuing health challenges with surgeries, multiple strokes, and memory loss. On top of these issues, Flo struggled with guilt, was often irritable, and always stubborn. Through it all though, she managed to stay herself. She was always authentically, genuinely, 100% Flo. And, quite often that meant that comedy was the way that she kept going.
Flo was funny. Like when she reflected on where she had learned how to feel guilty about things for far too long. She was long ago a Catholic girl with coke bottle thick glasses growing up on the Mississippi Delta, not exactly the best place to be Catholic or a girl or four-eyed. It was a world that valued so many things that she was not. So, Florence found a way to rise above by joking. She used to compare herself to Sammy Davis Jr. who famously said he had more strikes against him than ought to be allowed as he was "short, maimed, ugly,black, Jewish, gaudy, and uneducated." Florence may not have had as many strikes, but she nonetheless always kept fighting until she got her way.
Even when she was irritable, she found ways to make herself and others crack up. Like the times when she was upset with her neighbors at the Terrace. She would ask, “Why are there so many damn Baptists out here? Where are the Good Episcopalians? These people don’t know how to play Mexican Dominoes the right way... like they do at Riverside.”
And, her habit of stubbornly holding onto her way even when her children, and grandchildren, and other family and friends would try to convince her of another way was both challenging and impressive. One doesn’t run as many restaurants as she did without having the stubbornness of a mule. While she was not trying to be funny, there is something amusing to me about how Flo so willfully held to the belief that the last place she lived was always so much better than the place where she was currently living.
Natchez and the Mississippi Delta was her home for so long. And, the friendships she had there were lifelong bonds. The joy that Howard and her shared with others, especially as they went out to dinner and danced most Fridays nights revealed Flo’s fun-loving nature. But, after Howard’s death when she had to move to Decatur it seemed like she was always looking backwards.
She first lived at Riverside Senior Living, but there she missed Mississippi. Then she had to have some more serious care after some complications, so she moved to the Terrace… where she missed the friends, the food, and the Mexican Dominoes of Riverside. As her memory worsened she had to move to Summerford in Falkville, and there she missed the independence she had at the Terrace. What strikes me is that it’s hard to live life in reverse, always looking backwards. But, Florence missed her home, and towards the end I don’t think it was just her Mississippi home that she longed for.
Over the last few weeks Flo kept saying that she was seeing a man in a suit. No one else ever saw that man in a suit. Finally Dodie asked her who it was. Flo said it was her late husband Howard. Was she just hallucinating? I don’t think so.
I can’t be sure exactly what was happening. It’s hard to understand the Great Mystery that is God’s nature. But, maybe Flo kept seeing Howard because he was waiting for her to come home. Not to a home where she would look back and think it was better back then, but to a place where everything is perfect, like the feast on God’s Mountain in our reading from Isaiah, like in our Psalm walking along protected by the Good Shepherd, like in John’s Revelation when there’s no more hunger or thirst just fulfillment, like in John’s Gospel account when Jesus leads us all to our eternal home, like dancing and dinner down in Natchez on Friday night. That’s the home where Howard was taking Florence.
He was coming back to make sure Flo knew the way to the place where Christ leads us all. And, Flo kept looking past people around her these last few days, as though she was looking to that forever home where we will all one day reside in God’s infinite love. Christ shows us the way, the truth, and the life in how he lived, in how he died, and in how he rose again.
In her guilt and irritability and stubbornness I imagine that Flo, like the rest of us with our own faults, might have struggled with making that walk back home. Howard must have finally convinced her though that if she held out much longer they would have missed their dancing and dinner with all their friends last Friday night in their new eternal home. And, so Flo went home.
As we give Dadaw, Flo, Herb, Florence over to God who has always had her and always will have her, we look ahead to that day when we will all feast together on God’s Holy Mountain. When we will walk more closely with our Good Shepherd. When we will no longer hunger or thirst. When we will be together in God’s eternal home. When we know that we are all God’s favorite. And, there we can again dance and laugh and feast with Flo and all the others who go before us. Welcome home Flo. I know you will like this one the best!
Sunday, November 18, 2018
Keep Going
 |
| Would Jesus say the same thing about our churches that He said about the Temple in today's Gospel lesson? |
This sermon was preached on November 18, 2018 during the Sunday Holy Eucharist services for the 26th Sunday after Pentecost. The readings that inspired the sermon were the following:
Dr. Gerald Smith, a Religion Professor at Sewanee, more affectionately known just by his last name—Smith, once took his Intro to Religion students out of their normal classroom and onto the Quad. He did this to make a point about how we see the priorities of a community reflected in its buildings. Using the architecture on central campus—some academic structures, the administrative offices, and All Saints’ Chapel—Smith asked the class what they saw. Even though the students had walked by that area many times this exercise of paying attention served as eye-opening.
A Geology major informed the class that Tennessee sandstone made up the façade of the chapel. An upperclassman pointed out how so many disciplines were represented in the buildings around the Quad. Then, a church-nerd pointed out the Gothic nature of All Saints’. Finally, Smith jumped in to make clear his point. “Which building is the tallest?” the professor asked. “The Chapel,” the class replied. “So, what do you think that means? What does that say about the university? What does it say about this community’s priorities?” Those questions around the physical world and values have stuck with me.
Dr. Smith asserted throughout that particular class that our tallest buildings indicate to us what we hold most dearly. In that case, an Episcopal identity at an Episcopal University. But, if we look in our city, what does our architecture confess about us? Well, what buildings are tallest? Banks, offices, and churches. What about across the country? What buildings are tallest? The One World Trade Center is the tallest at 1,776 feet. That is the skyscraper rebuilt on the site of the Trade Center buildings, which were bombed on September 11, 2001 in New York City. Among the other tallest structures are The Willis Tower (formerly the Sears Tower) in Chicago and 432 Park Avenue in New York City.[1]
What do these buildings tell us about what we give worth to in our society? These buildings reflect that we value trade, our economy, wealth, and having a place to live. By the way, Riverside Church also in NYC—associated with the American Baptists and the United Church of Christ—is the tallest church in the U.S.A. and it is a full 1,384 feet shorter than the One World Trade Center, 10 miles down the Hudson River.[2] So what does this say? What do these buildings tell us about what we value? Perhaps these questions do not really help to inform us.
Building a really tall church seems impractical. And, in over-crowded cities like New York building up makes more sense than building out. Still, I cannot help but wonder what Jesus would think if we marveled to him about our tall buildings or even our beautiful church. If we caught him on a day like the one in today’s Gospel lesson we might find ourselves taken aback.
“Look, Teacher, what large stones and what a large church!” we might even say, “Jesus, did you notice how pretty our new facilities are?” He could very well reply, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” If bold enough, we might reply, “What gives Jesus? Why are you so upset? Isn’t it important to have tall and beautiful structures that point to what we hold dear?” I’m not positive how Jesus would reply to this, but He might very well reply with the words he spoke long ago, “Beware that no one leads you astray.” Astray? Astray of what? Where are we going off God’s path?
Our Great Teacher warned us to be wary, but why? His disciples wanted to know when the Temple would be toppled because they thought this would be a sign of the End of Days, Armageddon, the Eschaton. According to Jesus, there was a lot that needed to happen before the end. He cautioned that some would falsely come in His name. He said not to be alarmed by wars and rumors of wars. He even said to keep going through national uprisings and earthquakes and famines. Whoa! Jesus, do you even hear what you are saying? But, there is something to all of this. There is something to Jesus’ words because they are not just about being wary, and they aren’t about being worried, and they certainly aren’t about being fearful of what is to come—even if we might be all of these things.
No, Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel lesson are about something else. His words call us to wonder what it is that we are truly looking out for. It is not about all those terrible things—wars, rebellions, earthquakes, and famines—for they have been happening since Jesus was walking the earth. It’s not simply about those signs. And, in a society with lots of tall banks, apartments, and even churches that have been built up and demolished over the years, it’s not just about stones falling down. No, Jesus’ words cut through the noise of nations rising and falling, of natural disasters, and of everything else in our busy lives. Jesus cuts right to the heart of what is important.
Even when everything around us is crumbling, even when we feel like the sky is falling, even on our darkest days, Jesus tells us to keep going, for these are just the birthpangs. What will come will be beyond anything of our wildest imagination. That which will be born from these events will be the reign of Christ, the Kingdom of God, the realm of the Spirit! You see the best is yet to come!
Now, I won’t ever fully know the pains of the birthing process—other than perhaps a almost broken hand from my spouse’s kung fu like grip during labor. However, the difficulty of labor, even in our day and age, seems so tremendous that it is incredible that any of us are here in the first place. Still, I know that whenever I ask people about their moments closest to Christ throughout their whole lives what they almost universally point to is the birth of a child. New life marvels all of us. And, it seemingly far outweighs even the challenges of labor. The sprouting up of God’s way in this world will, according to Christ, be as painful as delivering a child. And yet, this is what we are called to be a part of.
We are called to bear God’s reign into this world. While the building up of the physical world is important, I mean look at how beautiful our new additions are, there is more than just what we see. Christ calls us to be dwelling places ourselves for God’s Spirit. Even when everything around us is crumbling, even when we feel like the sky is falling, even on our darkest days…when this material world crashes down, we are always called to bear God’s Kingdom, which never crumbles or falls or fades. We are called to keep going. Jesus says to us, “Don’t worry about how tall the building is. Instead build up dwelling places in your souls where my Spirit can dwell. For even our hardest hours are just the beginning of the birthpangs, which lead to God’s Kingdom being born in us and in this world.” Keep going, keep the faith, for these are just the birthpangs of Christ’s reign in this world, and the best is yet to come.
[1] “List of Tallest Buildings in the United States.” Wikipedia. Accessed 11/15/18. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_tallest_buildings_in_the_United_States.
[2] “List of Tallest Church Buildings in the World.” Wikipedia. Accessed 11/15/18. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_tallest_church_buildings.