Welcome, welcome, welcome!

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” Matthew 10:40

A few years ago a woman named Siobhan Garrigan went to Northern Ireland to study the current state of Catholic-Protestant relations in this divisive part of the world. While she was there she visited a Presbyterian church. What she there saw was shocking.

At first, it was shocking because it defied all the negative expectations. At the door to the church there was a welcoming committee that greeted everyone who entered. When newcomers approached the ushers said,
“Hello” or “Good morning.” Then they asked, “Where are you from?” At this point the scholar, who was herself from Ireland, felt pleased to see such a warm welcome. Finally the welcoming crew asked the fresh faces a final question, "What's your name?"

One unfamiliar man said, "My name is Martin." The committee said, "Welcome Martin. Please come in and find a seat." A new woman said, "I am Margaret." They said, "Welcome, please come inside Margaret! The service is about to begin." Finally, a couple approached, the husband’s name was Peter and the wife’s name was Maria. The committee grimaced and said, "Maria and Peter are you sure you're not more comfortable at the Catholic Church down the street?" Just by the name alone the "welcoming committee" was making an assumption about those entering the church’s doors. The committee greeted those with Protestant sounding names with a warm welcome and entry into the church, while the committee greeted those with traditional Catholic names with suspicion and a subtle invitation to go elsewhere.

Now we do not participate in this brand of gatekeeping at St. John’s, right? Our ushers, our newcomer committee, and every one of us almost always does a good job of greeting new members with a smile and a firm handshake. I still remember the overwhelming welcome I received when I came to visit here during my interview process. At least 60 people introduced themselves to me. In the Episcopal Church, we love to say that, “All are welcome,” and so often we practice this. Yet, while we do not have the same struggle as those in Northern Ireland sometimes we face the same challenge of welcoming, which requires us to let go of being in control and having power, even power over very good ministries.

This past week I had the privilege of participating in one such good ministry, Sawyerville Day Camp down in Hale County (Alabama). During the first part of pre-camp when just the staff members were present we faced a bit of a hospitality crisis. Many of the staff come from Episcopal Churches all over the diocese of Alabama, and primarily these high school and college students are white, upper middle class people. Almost all of them feel connected to the work of Sawyerville, as it has been around for their entire lives, and they feel that it is the Episcopal Church’s ministry. At the same time the local staff members from Greensboro and elsewhere in Hale County, actually grew up in the community where Sawyerville happens, many of them attended camp, so they too feel like it is their ministry of hospitality.

While both sides felt a need to welcome the other, soon it became clear that there was some tension, it was unclear who was welcoming whom, and some polarization happened. The white staff all sat in one big clump, while the black staff all congregated in another. Leslie Manning, the director of Sawyerville, invited everyone to model a more hospitable approach.
“If we cannot sit together, laugh together, cry together, and share life together,” she said, “then how do we expect to model racial reconciliation to the children who are coming to camp?” That was all she had to say, it seemed to uncork the stiffness. The rest of the week at camp everyone sat with everyone else. Black, white, brown, young, old, male, female, gay, straight, all mixed together, worked together, laughed, cried, and lived together. In the midst of this coming together, the staff was able to welcome one another into their lives and into some difficult issues.

One young woman from Greensboro after a couple of days at camp spoke up in a camp meeting saying some very difficult words. She said, “The male staff members need to do a better job of modeling how to act in front of our boy campers. Our boys are (ages 8-12) threatening the girls, saying, ‘I will beat you,’ or fake hitting them. Violence against each other especially again women, cannot even be threatened.” As soon as she finished speaking, the entire room began clapping and nodding their heads. This young woman courageously invited everyone into a difficult issue that was addressed together with the campers the next morning. She could have been met with disapproval, a blow to her self-esteem, or she could have been rejected. Yet, she let her guard down and welcomed others into this challenging reality.

We face a similar challenge. We have to welcome others into our lives, into difficult issues, and into our church. Jesus lays it out in today’s gospel, whoever welcomes one coming in my name welcomes me and whoever welcomes me welcomes God. Yet sometimes this is hard to do in our family of faith. Not because we do not want to welcome others into our church, as I believe we seriously want to welcome others into this beautiful place. However, we struggle with hospitality because welcoming those who look or sound different from us, welcoming those who come from a different state or different country, welcoming those with different education or no diploma, and welcoming those who believe differently or live differently than we do makes us feel unsafe. We want our family of faith to be a safe space and welcoming in the outsider requires that we have courage. Yet, Jesus challenges us to think about extending our definition of who is in the family. We are invited to give the cool glass of water to the stranger coming in Jesus’ name.

The love that we have for those closest to us, that warm and fuzzy feeling that rests within us, we have to take that beyond just those we like, just those who look like us, just those who are highly educated and upwardly mobile. We have to discover ways that this place can be hospitable for everyone who comes to it.

If we are to be welcoming like Christ would have us be, we must let go of power and control, like that displayed by the Northern Irish Presbyterian welcoming committee. We must let go of our desire to be accepted and approved, like the young woman at Sawyerville Day Camp. We must even let go of our preconceived notions of security within our family of faith. This is when we really begin to extend the welcome of Christ. We must welcome the stranger like we welcome our family because when we do this, we truly welcome Jesus and when we welcome Jesus we welcome God.

I want to end with what is called the welcoming prayer. It is a prayer that begins our contemplative prayer time every Thursday morning and it was written by Father Thomas Keating. Let us pray.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome. I welcome everything that comes to me today because I know it’s for my healing. I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons, situations, and conditions. I let go of my desire for power and control. I let go of my desire for affection, esteem, approval, and pleasure. I let go of my desire for security and survival. I let go of my desire to change any situation, condition, person, or myself. I open to the love and presence of God and His healing action within. Amen."

Learning Where Judge and Love Meet

The Truth can find us in all sorts of strange ways. Take for example this morning when I was getting ready for the day and listening to some sports talk radio (one of my favorite pass times). On this morning’s “Mike and Mike” show the hosts were discussing the use of smokeless tobacco products in light of Tony Gwynn’s early death partially due to his use of dip and chew. While I did not hear the entire conversation both the Mikes attested to the courtesy of their callers who discussed and debated whether Major League Baseball should ban the use of smokeless products to lessen their prominence and prevent young viewers from thinking it is “cool.”

All of the civility went out the window as Mike Greenberg read an email from an irate listener. This man had been a fan of the show for many years, but was going to stop listening after today’s broadcast because this show is now just like the rest of the media. The disappointed listener went on to write that no one can tell him how to live his life, especially not the media. What I heard the listener saying is quite common in our society, “No one can judge me.”

Today’s reading from Paul’s Letter to the Romans makes this claim as well, “Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, whenyou judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself,because you, the judge, are doing the very same things” (2:1). We rejoice in this passage because we can point to it and say, “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! ONLY GOD CAN!”

We do not like the feeling of being judged. Certainly Jesus makes a claim for doing the work of figuring out where we are in the wrong first when he talks about getting the log out of our eye before weinspect the speck of sawdust in another’s. Yet, the Truth I recognized this morning is that so often when I feel I am being judged I want to pack up my toys and go play by myself. It is not that we judge it is how we do it.

If I did use smokeless tobacco products I would certainly know that they are bad for me, this fact is written on the packaging. And, if you saw me using tobacco products you would certainly know that I was putting myself in danger by using them. Yet, I do not want to know that you know that I am putting myself in danger, and I do not want to hear that you know that I am putting myself into danger because then I would have to acknowledge the way I am living my life. Let me go on living in denial, please! Most often when someone points out a flaw in us, even if they do so politely, it feels as though they are being too direct, too confrontational, and too mean. Looking at the opposite end of the spectrum though, what if no one ever judged that we had done anything wrongly?

We could live however we want to live. We could do whatever we want to do. We could congratulate ourselves for the simplest accomplishment. We could scream as loud as we want to in our very own echo chamber without anyone saying a peep. The difficulty in living in this way though is that there is no growth, no transcendence, and no way of getting closer to God. The solution is not isolation, nor is it a total lack of judgment, but rather a redefining of how we share difficult, confrontational, and crucial information with one another.

When God created all things God made a judgment about Creation. God said, this is good, and this is very good. When God’s people chose their own way and not God’s will God did not judge that they ought to be destroyed. Rather time and time again God sent leaders (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and Aaron) to bring the people back to God in all sorts of strange and creative ways (i.e. see the Pentateuch). God sent the prophets when God judged that the Israelites were not living up to their “Chosen People” status. Then God sent Christ Jesus, his Son, to judge the people in a way that shows what kind of judgment awaits us.

We judged that Jesus should die, so we put him to death. Yet even in this moment God did not choose to destroy us, but God judged that forgiveness transcends revenge, that life overcomes death, that love unites us not separates us. Judgment and love cannot be separated in God’s decisions. Yet, this is what we choose to do when we simply point out flaws in other people, when we choose to be cynical about the state of the world, and when we point our fingers blaming one another for our collective challenges. This is like a doctor giving a diagnosis without a treatment plan. This is like giving someone a fishing pole without teaching them how to fish. If we spend our time only pointing to the problems in our lives, without working through a solution with others, then we are cutting ourselves off from the healing, transcending, and redeeming love of Christ.

None of us like to be judged because that Truth is so hard to hear and when we hear it we might feel shame or guilt for being that way. Yet, we must hear and accept the Truth about ourselves to grow closer to one another and closer to God. We must look to the way that God judges us. Do not judge by pointing a finger, but by extending a hand in love, for that is how God judges us with an overabundant love that overcomes even death. 

Unknown Caller

Sermon based upon: Genesis1:1-2:4a; Matthew 28:16-20; Oops to Yeah Style; Sermon audio

(Oops) As I looked down at my cellphone I did not recognize the number. This is never a good sign, especially when the number starts with 866. I picked it up anyway. Then there was the pause, an obvious sign that this is not family, a friend, a parishioner, or anyone else that I want to hear. Still for some unknown reason, I held on the line.

The nasally voice on the other end finally came through, “Hello Mr. Olson, this is Debra calling our valued customers on behalf of Charter.” Without any room for me to interrupt, she kept going, “Sir, I have to let you know that this phone call is monitored for quality assurance purposes.” As she keeps going, I am wondering when she is going to take a breath, so that I can say I am not interested in whatever she is selling, but still she keeps speaking, “What we are doing today is making sure that you are getting the best services at this time okay.” For a second, I think this is my chance, but she keeps going on about bundling services and faster internet.  

Finally she has to take a breath and so the following words come out of my mouth: “I’m too busy at the moment to talk about this.” Before she even gets a response out of her mouth, “When would be a good time to…” Click! I hang up the phone! Conversation over!

“I am too busy.” The words shocked me when they came out of my mouth. Not that they are not on some level true, but “I’m too busy.” Yeah, I’m too busy to take this phone call from a telemarketer trying to get me to buy more, but “I’m too busy” keeps pushing its way out of my mouth, and I have reason to believe I am not alone.

(Ugh) Before answering that phone call for which I was really too busy to take, I was reading a post on the Harvard Business Review by Greg McKeown entitled, “Why We Humblebrag About Being Busy.” To humblebrag is to, in a subtle way, talk about how much time we are spending on this project, that presentation, or some other report. McKeown suggests that the even more disturbing trend is that when we get into a state of “toomuchness” we try to fight it by adding more. More technology to free us up, so that we can spend more time… scrolling through social media? More outsourcing our tasks to others, so that we have more time to spend… binge watching television series.

McKeown is not alone in his assessment. There are others who are pointing out that we are all too often busying ourselves with more and more programming (more soccer practice, more dance rehearsal, more youth group activities, more more more!) Instead of taking time to have rest from more activity, we are filling our free time with endless checking of facebook, twitter, Instagram. I don’t speak just as an observer, I am guilty of this all too often myself.

A youth minister in Birmingham named Stephen Ingram wrote an open letter to the parents of his youth informing them that their children are in a bad place. As he says, they are “more stressed, full of anxiety, depressed, suicidal, over committed, over medicated, over worked and over extra-curriculared, and it is killing them, sometimes literally.” Ingram informs the parents that their children will probably not go to Harvard, or play professional sport, but that is okay because when we finally stop pushing ourselves and busying ourselves and extra-curricularing ourselves to death, when we finally shut down the devices and turn off the TV and finally let ourselves rest we start to discover something that we cannot otherwise experience. We heard it earlier this morning… It’s where we started.

(Aha) God spent a big chunk of time, six whole ages according to Genesis, creating the earth, the stars, the sun, the moon, the waters, everything that crawls, walks, swims, or flies and even us human beings (made in God’s own image). Yet something happened when God culminated this very good work. “And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done.” God rested. God didn’t do anything. God sat around, maybe God hovered, I don’t know, but God did not do anything. God just was.

My grandfather when he was still alive would just sit for hours at a time and he would look out his front sliding glass door into his patio area. He would watch birds and squirrels and the trees and the weather. He would not do anything, except occasionally drink a little bit of his bourbon. I never understood what he was doing because he wasn’t doing anything. Yet, he had figured out what God did on the seventh day. We are so addicted to doing that we have no clue how to sit and enjoy what God has created.

(Whee) McKeown and Ingram urge in their writings to engage in a disciplined pursuit of less. Find the essential things that are crucial for the joy of life, and sand away the rest. It will feel like when you clean out your closet and after packing up all the boxes with the clothes that you no longer wear you feel free. Somewhere in the midst of this freedom, where less is actually more… more joy, more peace, and more love for life… somewhere in this essentialist type of living is an opportunity.

Today’s Gospel is the end of Matthew. The Gospel ends with a commissioning: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.” We hear Jesus saying to go and do, yet if we think this is all he is asking of us we are missing the context in which Jesus speaks.

Jesus has taken his friends up on top of a mountain. They are in the area of Galilee where so much ministry happens, yet they are called away from the madness of doing, so that they can be with Jesus. Some of them worship while others doubt, but neither can happen if we are too busy and preoccupied with group status meetings, progress reports, and even Sudoku apps.

(Yeah) Today is Trinity Sunday. When newly ordained ministers are thrown up into the pulpit, so that their bosses don’t have to explain the mystery that is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Usually there are some incomplete analogies that commit at least one heresy. I don’t like heresy, nor do I think the mystery is to be understood. Instead our task on this Sunday is not to comprehend the Trinity but to experience the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in relationship. The trouble is that most of our lives we are too busy to experience anything other than the most urgent email in our inbox or the most pressing voicemail left on our phone or the next meal for our family, the next bill to pay, or whatever is most crucial. We become slaves to the urgent such that we have no time to contemplate the great mystery of the Trinity.

I know for certain that God is not just two men and a bird, but who God is to each of us looks different. If we are too busy to understand that God is leaving us breadcrumbs on the trail home, hints at how we are to be in relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, then we will never catch a greater glimpse of what a three-in-one God looks like.

God who is Holy and Powerful, intimate and empathetic, immanent and processing. God who is Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is trying to speak with you. Are you too busy to take God’s call? “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”

Give, Encourage, Stand Up: The Life and Witness of Saint Barnabas

Life in Jerusalem in this passage from Acts was getting more and more difficult, as the followers of the Way (Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life) were having to pool together their money just to survive. Add to this that Stephen was just stoned to death for telling off the High Priest’s council. This council accused Stephen of blaspheming, but in an eloquent speech he turns this accusation back on the religious leaders, not to mention they were ignoring the Holy Spirit. Immediately after Stephen's death a man named Saul went on a killing spree that lead to the death of many early church members. Life back then was economically troublesome, politically problematic, and even full of religious terrorism. That world does not sound all that different from today: Economic disparity, political power plays, and domestic terrorism have all been in the headlines in the past two days.

The world of Acts full of problems, as it was, possessed a good deal of hope. This was the world in which a Levite, a Jewish priest from Cyprus, named Joseph choose to follow something different than this depressing status quo. Being a man of some means he sold a field he owned, brought the money from it, and gave it to the disciples. At a time when the apostles were struggling to survive, Joseph gave them a pick-me-up that led to a new nickname. The apostles began calling Joseph Barnabas, which sounds funny to us, but the translation means Son of Encouragement. In the midst of a very troubling financial period, Barnabas defied the economic model of scarcity to show God's abundance.

When Stephen was martyred, many of the followers scattered, especially as Saul went on his killing spree.
As the followers of Jesus went away they were terrified of stepping outside their comfort zone and spoke only to Jews that they trusted. Yet some, encouraged by Holy Spirit preached beyond the safety nets they knew, as they began to evangelize to some Hellenists (read: Gentiles). In the wake of this the Church in Jerusalem sent Barnabas to encourage these now emboldened leaders of the faith. Barnabas, this good man full of the Holy Spirit and faith exhorted them to step outside the familiar, religious world that they knew, and many were brought into the Church. As religious and political powers intimidated many followers of Jesus, Barnabas put his hope in Christ and encouraged these Christians to bring in new members.

Barnabas did not stop here though. Saul's murderous rampage ended in a blinding moment of conversion, as he repented and turned to Jesus. Yet, no Christian wanted to have anything to do with him. Imagine if a Muslim extremist today spoke of an encounter with Jesus that led him to convert, how willing would we be to trust this new Christian? Yet, Barnabas went to find the newly named Paul. Without Barnabas’ encouragement Paul would have remained the murderous Saul. Barnabas’ encouragement and his ability to step outside the comfortable confines of what is familiar enabled the young Christian community to blossom even in the face of terrorism. Barnabas even died spreading this message of Christ’s redemptive love, as he preached in a synagogue some religious authorities were jealous, so they dragged Barnabas out, tortured him, and stoned him to death.

The story does not stop there though, as we are heirs of Barnabas' faith in Christ Jesus. We may find it hard to identify with dying for our faith, especially in a place where our religious freedom as Christians is pretty well protected, yet in a world full of economic disparity, political bickering, and continuing violence we are called to stand up like Barnabas did. Jesus tells us that we are being sent out as sheep among wolves, which is a profound and difficult call as Christians. We must step out being wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves living our lives like Saint Barnabas. Barnabas shows that Christ’s love can overcome a world of economic, political, and violent struggle. Barnabas sold what he owned to give to the poor. He stood up to the religious/political authorities of the day. He responded to violence not by more violence, but by giving up his life, like Jesus did. Today and everyday let us celebrate the life of Barnabas by giving, by standing up, and by encouraging, through which we share the redemptive love of Christ.

The Work of Being

Sermon Audio: Click here.

This is a brief homily reflecting on John 17:1-11, the work that Jesus does in his Passion, Death, and Resurrection, and our aversion in the Church to the word "work." The one thing on our to-do list is to be in relationship with God through Jesus Christ. The challenging bit is discovering how we best can "be" with God.