1 Peter 2:1-10: God Called You Out of Darkness into Marvelous Light

When I was sixteen years old I could not wait for summer time to come. With my driver’s license in hand, I felt a new sense of freedom and that would only be compounded by the summer job I was taking at camp. For the first half of the school break at Camp Winnataska all of the sessions are girls’ camps, and the only boys out at camp are the college-age staff members and three high school males who wash the dishes after every meal. This was to be my post for two weeks. To make things even better I was going to be serving with two of my best childhood friends, Alex and Brooks.

It might sound like difficult work, washing dishes for about two hundred people three times a day for a couple of weeks, but I still think of it as one of the best jobs I have ever had. We would wake up right before breakfast, eat, then wash dishes, take a nap, wake up in time for lunch, eat, then wash dishes, take another nap, go lay by the pool, go to dinner, eat, then wash dishes, and then stay up all night. Pretty soon I had completely switched from being an early riser, who loved the day time, to a night owl, who could not wait for the sun to go down.

Mostly at night we would keep to ourselves, but a few times we used the shade of night to play pranks on the male staff members or to go steal kisses from the girl leaders under the shadow of the moon. As Alex, Brooks, and I had grown up at camp we knew most of the trails like the backs of our hands, but learning how to maneuver them in the darkness was this daunting, yet invigorating task. On one particularly dark night, we had been out past our curfew and were headed home when we saw the flashlights of the directors searching through the woods nearby. Fearing being caught out too late, I sprinted away without any thought of leaving my comrades stranded in the woods. Running down old familiar trails in the moonless, cool night air I felt freer than I had ever felt in my entire life.

When I arrived back at the lodge where the dishwashers resided, I waited for what seemed like an eternity for Alex and Brooks to return. Almost immediately after my heart stopped pounding, the guilt began to weigh on my soul. I had left my friends alone in the darkness. After waiting and waiting and waiting. They came sneaking in about twenty-five minutes after I did without having been caught by the directors. After breathing a sigh of relief we sat around for a spell and I kept thinking of what it would have been like to have been blinded by the beam from a flashlight. My eyes hurt just thinking about getting caught in that ray of light. A few hours later when we were all still too excited to sleep we sat out on the porch and watched as the darkness slowly dissipated and the light of the sun crested over the horizon of pine trees enveloping all of camp in its warm embrace.

After two weeks of nocturnal living as a dishwasher, I had a tough time adjusting to being a citizen of the light again. For the entire week break between girls’ camp and co-ed camp I felt so tired that all I could do was sleep and eat. Eventually I did recover, but the contrast of being blinded by a flashlight and sitting peacefully watching as the sun peaks over the trees sticks with me. Today’s reading from the first letter attributed to Peter allows us to think about ourselves as God’s chosen people who are “called out of darkness into his marvelous light.” As we move towards the quiet, dark season of watching and waiting known as Advent, I ponder how it is Christ comes to us and how it is that we share Christ’s light with those around us.

In all my sneaking around at summer camp I never was tied down by a ribbon of light shining from a director’s Maglight. Thank Heavens! Still on a few occasions a friends did catch me in the face with a flashlight. It was not fun. I walked around stunned for a few minutes stumbling. Ironically that light, the thing which helps us to see more clearly, can also be the thing that blinds us.

This can be a difficult time of year for those who have lost someone dear to them or for those who celebrate this season quietly. With so much jolliness around us, it is easy to be swept up into gleaming the light of Christ wherever we are going. Yet, that light and that joy when used like a flashlight often feels overwhelming to those who are not yet ready to step into the light. I know that when I meet those who are walking around in darkness, I often want to so quickly drag them into the light, but I believe when I do this I am denying God’s gift. It is like me sprinting from my friends and leaving them alone, stranded in the darkness.

Instead, if we were to sit together in the darkest part of the night, and we were to study a sunrise we would find that the light does not come all at once, as one stream of light drowning us with overwhelming brightness. Instead it wraps around the darkness slowly, allowing for the night to say its farewells and to kiss the dawn at its arrival. Genesis 1 description of God’s light overcoming the darkness can make us believe that God does not sit with us in the night. Yet, Matthew’s gospel from today reminds us that for God all things are possible.

God is with us in our dark times. Christ Jesus walks with us during those times of doubt, depression, and dimness. Yet, when we are called out of those times of darkness it can be startling to immediately step into the light. Instead of rushing into the fullness of Christ’s light, we can stand still right where we are, feeling the holy light within us and the Holy Spirit whipping through our hair as we wait in the stillness. It is here, in the darkness, that we begin the season of watching and waiting. Let us not be too quick to blind one another with our flashlights of Christ and instead may we, with God’s help, be patient and wait for the coming of the Son.

Luke 23:33-43: Christ the Messiah Sunday

Mustaches, Zombies, and Jesus' View of the End

Sermon Audio: here

Sermon Notes: here

Luke 21:5-19: When Practice Doesn't Make Perfect

"So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict."

"Practice makes perfect" is one of those sayings that I took to heart from an early age. I was never the tallest, the fastest, the most athletic, or the best skilled player on any of the soccer teams that I played on as a kid. So what I lacked in ability I tried to make up for in effort... AND PRACTICE (Sorry Allen Iverson, I'm talking about practice). I practiced and practiced and practiced. Everyday of the week, every week of the month, every month of the year, I practiced. Through that time I was urged on by the thought that if I practice hard enough, then I will be prepared to play a perfect game.
Sometimes this mentality creeps up in me as I prepare for something upcoming in the life of the parish. In particular, I think, "If I can practice hard enough, then I will preach a perfect sermon and everyone will walk away saying things like, 'Wow, I really want my spiritual life to grow!' and 'I can't wait to serve at St. John's Church more often!' and maybe even, 'That Seth really can preach!'" Yet, this upcoming Sunday's gospel from Luke describes a very different vision than practice makes perfect.
One day, according to Jesus, the religious and political structures will begin to fall, and wars and earthquakes will shake the earth, and famines and plagues will encircle the globe. At that point those who follow Jesus will be given an opportunity to testify. Well, the truth is our earthly systems continue to fail, wars and natural disasters continue to cripple nations, and food shortages and disease kill thousands every day. All that Jesus has said is going to happen is already happening and has been happening since he ascended into heaven. We have the opportunity RIGHT NOW to speak in his name, so what is stopping us?

I often wonder, what does it mean then to testify to God? Does it mean that we have to rehearse some Bible verses that we shoot at unsuspecting passersby? Maybe. Does it mean that we memorize some passionate narrative about turning away from a life of sin? Perhaps. Does it mean participating in dramatic debate about all of the signs (earthquakes, wars, famines, etc.) pointing to Jesus' impending return? Probably not. I think to testify is to engage in honest conversations and instead of "preparing [our] defense in advance," we leave our defenses down.

When we come in defenseless we can more honestly engage with those whom we might see as enemies. God already gives us words and wisdom if we would just slow down enough to listen to what is being said within our hearts, minds, and spirits. If we come in having a practiced script we might be too tied up in spitting out what we want to say. We might miss that our supposed opponents are just like us. We might miss that God removes those things that stand in the way of connecting with our opponents. We might miss that no division exists in God's reality, they are merely our own fabrication.

There are certainly things to practice in this world. Yet, there is one area where not practicing leads to perfection. When we talk to our "opponents" leave the memorized monologues behind and rely upon taking down our defenses, so that we stand together on the sacred ground that we share in interacting with one another. Christ will give us the words to say, but only if we first remove our shields of apprehension, fear, prejudice, doubt, and hatred.

Loving Father, you constantly give us words and wisdom, I ask that You help us to remove anything that we build up between each another, that we might see that Your Kingdom is that space that exists between us, and that we are the ones who are charged with revealing it to one another. All this we ask through the loving example of Jesus your Son, and the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen!

I Mustache You A Question

Standing outside of church Sunday morning I expected a few comments, but I thought they would be about my sermon. In my time here as curate, I have looked forward to hearing comments about my preaching, as people walk out the red doors and into the world. Often the feedback I receive allows me to adapt my sermons, so that I might better interpret the Word of God with all of you in mind. However, this Sunday many comments were not about my sermon at all, and instead, almost everyone asked about a patch of hair that is growing above my upper lip.

When some eyes drifted down to stare at my newly growing mustache, I wanted to say, “Excuse me, but my eyes are up here.” Perhaps it was because some could not believe it was real, maybe it was a result of seeing Evan so cleanly shaven, or it could have been the thought, “Who wears a ‘stache these days?” Whatever the reason, I could tell that after church there was a fascination with my newly sprouted “soup strainer.” Of course, this is not my first facial hair rodeo, and I have been waiting for when some would say, “I mustache you a question… about your mustache,” and I enjoy the question, “What is that growing on your face?”

I affectionately know the eleventh month of the year as Movember (Mustache + November = Movember). Yet, why grow a mustache for the month of November? Well, each October all sorts of organizations, sports teams, and individuals sport the color pink in support of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month; however, many may not realize that November is Prostate Cancer Awareness Month. Instead of sporting a certain color, many men (including me) don some “handlebars,” “the walrus,” or “the dali” to raise awareness for men’s health issues. This is precisely why I have grown a ‘stache the last few years throughout the month of November. Well, that and because they look so awesome!

Many men have difficulty opening up and admitting when they are sick, in pain, or suffering. The culture around us often pushes men to believe that they always must be strong, that any form of sickness can be overcome by determination, and that to be vulnerable is to be weak. I would argue that in Jesus we have the opposite example. God become human in the person of Jesus. While Christ Jesus was both fully human and fully divine, God emptied himself upon the cross. To me the crucifixion shows that there is no weakness in vulnerability rather that is pure strength!

Maybe it is a little bold to equate opening up, being vulnerable, and going to the doctor with the example of Jesus. Yet, this month I urge everyone, both women and men, to take steps towards living an open, a vulnerable, and a healthy life. There is no weakness in being like Jesus, and of course, he had a mustache. If you feel like supporting prostate cancer research and the Movember movement, check out my webpage:  http://us.movember.com/mospace/3708981

Luke 20: 27-38: Start Living in the Resurrection

For the Gospel lesson link click here
For the Sermon audio click here

I have not often had the misfortune of walking into a room mid-confrontation. Once or twice, I have walked in to hear friends fighting over something that had just happened. Tension filled the air, yet most often they were arguing over a video game. This morning we get dropped into a heated debate about marriage, or is it about the Resurrection? We will come back to this in a moment. Right now, let’s try to understand how we got plopped into this debate. We hoped over an important detail when we took a detour last week celebrating All Saints’ Sunday. Just before this morning’s gospel story, Jesus came into the Temple, expelled those who were trying to make a profit from this holy place, and won a few arguments with the spiritual elite of the day. Jesus has been embroiled in a series of similar contests between Pharisees and scribes, but now we focus upon his conversation with the Sadducees.

Why are Sadducees so named? Well, the Sadducees are sad-you-see because they do not believe in the resurrection (BWAHAHA). That bad joke is brought to you by Evan’s 2nd grade Sunday school teacher, Miss Dot. We do not know too much about Sadducees because they became extinct by the end of the first century. What we do know is that they were connected to the wealthy people of the day, they wanted to know just what they could get away with and still be considered good people, and they did not believe in the resurrection. They actually sound like some Episcopalians I know.

The Sadducees, a group not mentioned previously in Luke, are on some level really wondering what Jesus’ response will be to their question, but there is also a desire to prove that Jesus does not know about the Scriptures. Pharisees, scribes, and Sadducees often come off looking like the bad guys, but initially they served as foils for Jesus, sparring partners that made it easier to make one’s point more clearly. The Sadducees address him, perhaps mockingly, as “rabbi” or “teacher,” then quote a strange law attributed to Moses, “If a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother.” Sadducees insist that there is no resurrection because they think that their legacy, their livelihood, and their life itself is passed on through their children. In Deuteronomy and Genesis Moses has made it clear that if one brother dies before bearing any children from a marriage, the hope of him “living on” is passed on to his brother.

Before going any further, let me say, this is a brutal system that completely neglects the position of women. In this chauvinistic, patriarchal society women are seen as nothing more than a way to pass on a man’s legacy. Continuing the name of the deceased came before the needs and desires of women in this society. The Sadducees do not seem to care about the woman from their example, as they continue full speed with their quest to prove the resurrection incompatible with Scripture.

Amplifying their example, they say, “Now there were seven brothers; the first married and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.” It almost seems comical, SEVEN marriages! Really?! SEVEN! This is EXTREME! Isn’t it? Yet, it is a good question, who are we going to marry and be married to in the resurrection? Or maybe asked more generally, what is it going to be like in the resurrection? I wonder about this sometimes, “Am I going to get to see my family? Am I going to have a body? Am I going to get to watch a movie of my life?” Yet the Sadducees’ attempt to prove their beliefs right through Moses’ law and our attempts to understand “heaven” are out of focus with Jesus’ description of the resurrection.

Jesus did not let the Sadducees’ question reverberate too long in the temple. Perhaps worn a little thin from arguing with Pharisees and Scribes all day long, Jesus sets up a contrast between this age and the next, as those whom he has already contested eavesdrop wondering if Jesus will slip. There is a difference that exists between those who are focused on “this age” and “those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection.” Those of this age are concerned with marrying and being given in marriage, both men and women succumb to the temptations of this life. Those in the age to come do not worry about such things, not because they do not care about their earthly relationships, but because they have begun to act out of deeper Truth. Those in the age to come Jesus says, “are like angels and are children of God being children of the resurrection.” They have adopted the characteristics of resurrection life. They live in the Truth that the resurrection is already underway.

The Sadducees and the onlooking Pharisees and Scribes will not be sold without justification from Scripture, so Jesus recalls the story of Moses and the burning bush. God speaks to Moses saying, “I AM The God of Abraham, the God of Issac, and the God of Jacob.” To Jesus this shows that God does not relate to dead people, but to living ones. God would not say “I AM the God of someone who is dead,” rather God is beyond the realms of time and space. To God all are alive. God is the God of the living not the God of the dead.

When Jesus finishes his argument an eerie silence hangs over the temple, our gospel lesson does not give us the full ending. The Pharisees and Scribes break the quiet and celebrate the Sadducees defeat in this temple debate, saying, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” No one dared to ask him another question.

Yet, what I take away from this contest is not that Jesus is really good at debate, or that we do not need to ask questions about what the resurrection will be like. What I take away from this gospel is that our charge is to start acting like the resurrection is already happening. We might be anticipating the cross in Luke’s gospel, but the cross and the resurrection have already happened. Jesus has already been raised from the dead and this means that we too are raised from the dead for we are buried with Jesus in our Baptism. We therefore are charged to start acting like the resurrection is all around us. We are called to look around with resurrection vision, to taste with a resurrection tongue, to smell with a resurrection nose, to hear with resurrection ears, to feel with a resurrection sense. This is our call. Not to get bogged down in the laws that we make up about ourselves. Not to get stuck in the rules that we think apply to us getting into heaven, but to act as though we are already walking with Christ in the light of the resurrection.
We do this by opening our hearts, minds, and spirits to Christ, by caring most for the least among us, by seeking forgiveness when we wrong someone else, by remembering the resurrection, and by coming back together as the Body of Christ.

There is a resurrection, the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, Jesus himself shows, and we show every week as the Body of Christ. Our task is not to prove this to others through law and rules, but to live this out in our lives as the truest of all realities. We are children of the resurrection, let’s start living like it!

William Temple: "The personality of every man and woman is sacred."

Archbishop William Temple (photo credit: http://satucket.com)

I have a confession to make. For as long as I have been a Christian, I have only been to church on Christmas one time. Whew, do I feel better! The year was 1993 and I wasn’t even ten years old yet. My family had been in London for most of the month of December on what was the best vacation of my childhood. Seeing so much history, culture, and art sparked within me an endearing love for all things English. To make thingseven better for Christmas holiday we traveled down to Canterbury to stay at a little bed and breakfast and to attend Christmas service at Canterbury Cathedral.

When my family walked in for church on Christmas day, I did not know the importance of the Cathedral: it is the center of worship in the Episcopal/Anglican world, it is the seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury, it is a historic site where Thomas Becket was martyred in 1170 and subsequently a place of pilgrimage. I did not realize all this on that Christmas morning. All I knew was that we were going into a very long service on Christmas day that was going to keep me from playing with my new toys. Yet, even as an overly-hyperactive child, I was blown away by what I heard and saw on that holy morning.

According to my mom, who keeps a meticulous journal, the 11:00AM service was a Mozart-Coronation-Mass Eucharist with Archbishop George Carey preaching. The choir was enchanting. The procession and the vestments were exquisite. The congregation was profoundly reverent. Even through the veil of my youthful inattentiveness I could tell that God was present, God had come to be with us.

One thing I do not remember well is the sermon from that day. In my memory I can see Archbishop Carey dressed in elaborate vestments, preaching with humble conviction, but I do not know what he said. Maybe he preached on the shepherds and the angels, or maybe he talked about Mary and Joseph. Probably though, he spoke about the Nativity Event, that is God comes to be with us.

Not too long before Archbishop Carey occupied the bishop’s seat at Canterbury, there was a man who not only talked about this, but also lived out his entire ministry showing to all whom he met that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. William Temple was the 98th (or 99th depending on what resource one consults) Archbishop of Canterbury, and today, November 6th, we remember him in the Episcopal Church. He served as archbishop in the tumultuous years of the Second World War, but throughout his life he was an inspiration showing that God comes to be with us.

To say that William Temple was a preacher’s kid would be an understatement. His father, Frederick Temple, was a bishop and became the Archbishop of Canterbury when William was 15. Perpetually a believer with very few doubts, though William never had a rebellious stage or conversion experience, but rather he lived out his faith from a very early age. Knowing that God had come to dwell with humanity enlivened his ability to relate to all whom he met. His brilliant mind also enabled him to empathize with those from very different backgrounds than his own. “He wrote that in Jesus Christ God took flesh and dwelt among us, and as a consequence ‘the personality of every man and woman is sacred’” (Holy Women, Holy Men 668). This belief permeated throughout all his interactions enabling him to bring people from different political and ecumenical backgrounds together.

As he rose to prominence in the Church of England, moving into higher positions of leadership it seemed inevitable that he would one day be a bishop. Yet, when he was the rector at St. James’s Picadilly, he retired so that he could focus upon helping the laity to achieve more power within the church. For eight months he worked tirelessly to get an Act of Parliament passed so that church members and not politicians made the big decisions in the church. After it was eventually passed, he went back into the church and soon became bishop.

When he was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, England was at war with Germany. In a bold act during the summer of 1944 during Operation Overlord, Temple visited the Allied troops fighting in Normandy, being the first Archbishop to “go to battle” since the Middle Ages. He was not one to shy away from getting politically involved and often was able to bring two opposing sides together by summarizing their points better than either side could do on their own. He denounced Nazism as idolatry, but advocated for humane treatment of Germans preaching against vengeance. He was an advocate of negotiated peace, but gained criticism for not condemning carpet bombing in Germany. Archbishop Temple died of complications with gout from which he suffered his entire life, before the conclusion of the war.

In all things Temple was one who lived out of the reality that God came to dwell with humanity. He treated all as if they were Jesus Christ himself. We who celebrate his life today are challenged to do the same. God came to earth and that makes the personality of all sacred. Let us so live that we might see each other as the bearer of Christ’s light in this world.

Luke 20:27-38: A Tricky Question

This coming Sunday's gospel text (Luke 20:27-38) begins with a tricky word problem akin to some sort of religious standardized test (SRT). The Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, come to Jesus with a question about a woman. This is no normal woman, nor is it a normal question. They want to know the afterlife fate of a woman who subsequently marries seven brothers, presumably as they are all dying of natural causes, not being poisoned in their sleep. In this question scenario the woman bears no children and eventually dies herself. "In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be?" the Sadducees maliciously ask (cackling with a sinister laugh), then state, "For the seven had married her." In this moment the Sadducees grinning from ear to ear are attempting to pin Jesus down with the traditional teachings of the Faith. In particular the rule that when a wife's husband dies she is to marry the man's brother who will take care of her is being questioned in light of the belief that in the resurrection marital relationships still exist.

Sometimes we make a lot out of the differences between Pharisees, Sadducees, Scribes, Disciples, Apostles, disciples, etc. We have a modern analogy of our Christian denominations and how they differ, but I don't think that comparison works very precisely. Typically, I think when reading the gospel of Luke, I don't want to be like the Pharisee, but often times the Apostles and disciples are not doing any better. Instead of believing that Jesus wanted nothing more than to humiliate the Pharisees, or in this reading the Sadducees, it would be beneficial to see these religious leaders as foils, so subtract the sinister laugh from above and think that through the teachings of these others, Jesus clarified his own powerful message. 

In this Gospel, the Sadducees want Jesus to throw his hands up as soon as he hears this SRT question, but instead he expands the horizons of those asking the question. Immediately in his response Jesus turns the focus from marital relationships ("Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage") to a relationship with God ("those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead"). Jesus explains that in the age to come there are no earthly constraints, like marriage, upon resurrection relationships. For those who may love their spouse and enjoy the relationship of marriage this may be difficult to comprehend. "Why would God not want me to love my spouse forever?" one might ask. My understanding is that even the best relationships here on earth are not grand enough for post-resurrection life! In the resurrection there is no death or pain, so we who live in these mortal frames cannot fully comprehend post-resurrection relationships to make a marital commitment.

The Sadducees who relied upon Moses teaching were keen to use his words to show there was no resurrection, but Jesus turns the great Hebrew leader's words around to teach the Sadducees. Moses speaks of the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, which points to their present existence and shows, "He is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive." This is both a comforting and mystifying ending to the gospel.

As I read Jesus' response to this tricky question, I attempt to standardize it into some sort of post-resurrection system. Yet, I think this is what Jesus was warning the Sadducees not to do. I pretty quickly let my imagination run wild with what is coming on the other side of the grave, and the problem with that is not that I am thinking too big a vision of what is to come, but rather that I cannot possibly imagine something loving and lovely enough. For God is the God not of the dead, but of the living; for him all are alive! God is always with us, even at that difficult moment when we let go of this world and these earthly relationships.