Names Written In Heaven

Jesus has just turned his face towards Jerusalem in Luke’s Gospel account. He does not have much time left in his earthly ministry. Knowing this, he sends forth seventy followers, saying, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” Jesus’ suggested packing list consists of nothing but his blessing of peace and his instructions to ignore those whom they meet on the road. Instead he prompts his followers to focus on meeting people where they are, where they live. They are to extend peace and to heal the sick in their homes.

The instructions for following Jesus are radical. Go forth without a coat, extra clothes, or spare sandals. Take no supplies for the journey and instead rely upon Jesus. I am not good at this. When I travel I want supplies for every potential scenario I might encounter. Yet, Jesus requires that in lieu of a material crutch we rely instead on the kindness of others and upon his peaceful presence.
Today’s gospel reading reveals that the seventy have safety returned. Not only this, but they have succeeded. They have relied solely on the power of their Savior. As they return they excitedly proclaim what they have done, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” These followers have put their trust in God.

We too are travelers on a different journey, but still sent by Christ into the world to provide his healing and his peaceful presence to those whom we meet. Yet, in this context, this public service of healing and Eucharist, we come to Christ for refreshment, healing, and the spiritual food of Christ’s Body and Blood. As I hurry around preparing for this service I sometimes forget that this is a time not just for you to be refreshed, healed, and fed, but also for me to experience Christ’s peaceful presence in this place.

Over the weekend a seminary classmate and one of my best friends Clay Towles committed suicide. As I continue to experience the pain of this loss I swing from denial to guilt to rage and I land in heartbrokenness. I long for God’s healing to wash over me. I yearn for Christ’s compassion. I ache for the soul of my friend.

While I am certain that Christ comforts all of us who come to him, Jesus urges us to look beyond earthly healing to see the ultimate aim of our lives. “Nevertheless do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” Christ writes our names in heaven as he remembers us who follow him.

Whenever we gather together we remember Christ, putting together the body of Christ. Yet when we gather as the Body of Christ we not only recall Jesus, but we also draw together all His followers across time and space: our loved ones who have died, the saints of ages past, the saints living on the farthest shores and the saints who have yet to come. My friend Clay loved the Eucharist. He was almost always in chapel. And I believe that he now is even closer to God’s banquet table. We may struggle to feel God’s healing in this moment or even in this lifetime, but Christ remembers us in heaven and asks that we too might remember him as we gather together around his table together with all past, present, and yet to come.

God's Multiplication

From left to right: Dean Cynthia Kittredge, Clay Towles, Seth Olson (me), James Franklin, Jared Houze, Michael Carriccino, CJ Meaders, and Jeremiah Griffin

Yesterday I had the distinct pleasure of substituting for one of the regulars at our Banks-Caddell Homework Helpers program. If you have not had an opportunity to volunteer in that ministry, I highly recommend it. For most of the hour and a half I worked with four boys who were doing their math homework.

I quickly remembered some aspects of elementary mathematics. My multiplication table easily popped back into my mind (thank you Mrs. Albritton), but I struggled to distinguish between the distributive property and the communicative property. Do not even ask me what chunking is, for I still do not understand that demonic art! Yet what struck me more than my inability to remember mathematics was the spirit of the boys with whom I worked.

They were chipper and happy with just a pinch of rebelliousness. As I worked through their math worksheets with them I could see through some of their mischief, as one child in particular attempted to trick me into doing all of his work for him. After I convinced him that he should do his own work we worked together on a question asking another way of writing 8x5. The answer was clearly 5+5+5+5+5+5+5+5, but when I asked how he would write out 8x5 the boy answered, “50,000! NO! 50 thousand, hundred!” Maybe he was happy to get his homework completed, or perhaps it was working with friends, or even it might have been an adult sitting with him, but this child’s shear positivity overcame both his horrendous math skills and his inability to choose one of the four choices on the page. While I corrected him, I could not help but feel that his positive energy was hinting at a larger truth about God.

Sometimes in our world we can believe that the answer to our problems is one of four multiple choice answers. We might believe that we only have a few possible solutions to our challenges:

A. Make more money
B. Buy more things
C. Go it alone
D. Ignore the problem altogether

Yet, what this child of God reminded me is that God’s ability to multiply our time, talent, and treasure, our gifts, our prayers, and our lives themselves cannot easily be understood. 5x8 might as well be 50 thousand, hundred when God is at work! However, life soon challenged my new understanding of God’s greatness.

When I arrived home last night I discovered that Clay Towles, one of my best friends from seminary, had tragically died. The good feelings from Banks-Caddell melted away and I began struggling with all of the questions swirling around in my mind: Why did this happen? What could I have done to prevent his death? How could the church let one of its leaders suffer all alone? Why did Clay not reach out to others?

I fought hard all night with these questions desperately and irrationally hoping that by answering them Clay would return. He sadly will not. Instead I am left in a numb, heartbroken, and enraged mess. Somewhere buried in the tomb alongside our Savior Jesus Christ rests every bit of my grief, guilt, pain, fear, doubt, shame, anger, and confusion in the face of Clay’s death. Clay too is buried within that tomb.I do not know when or how or where it will happen, but Christ will raise all that is buried with him. One day the tomb, Clay’s tomb, will be empty. One day all those who believe will be resurrected to new life. One day all that we give over to God will be transformed in the mystery of God’s love. This is how God multiplies our lives: the pain of the Cross and death is transformed into the joy of the Resurrection.

A Shift In Perspective

This sermon is based on Luke 7:18-35 from today's the Daily Office Lectionary.

I sometimes think about the absurdity of a Martian looking down from outer space observing our day-to-day lives here on earth. Among other things I think about how that Martian, let’s go ahead and call him Marvin, would think that dogs, and certain cats, are the most sophisticated and most advanced species on earth. Dogs lounge around all day long taking naps wherever they please. They are massaged and groomed. They are loved and cared for by their “owner,” maybe we should change that to “servant”? From the perspective of Marvin life for a dog is ideal. Yet, we who are down here on earth have a different perspective.

We know that dogs are often cooped up all day long. We know that they often do not have as much freedom as they would like. We understand that, at least from our point of view, we have more ability and privilege.

One’s perspective can make all the difference in the world. To the tax collector who was seen as an outcast, John the Baptist’s ministry offered the opportunity for rebirth. Evan talked about this last week at this service that tax collectors were the most despised persons who were hated everywhere they went. He likened them to child molesters of our day who cannot go anywhere without shame and ridicule. To the most rejected person any form of redemption can start to transform life itself. Imagine being completely rejected everywhere you go for years and years. No one loves you. No one will marry you. No children to comfort you. This was life for tax collectors and is life for many still today.

After torturous existence, finally someone offers not just a glimpse of hope but a promise of an opportunity to turn back to God to be counted as one of his own children. This was the perspective of the wretched tax collector and all those sinners who journeyed out into the wilderness to experience the cool, transforming waters of the Jordan River! What did they go out to see? A reed blown by the wind? OF COURSE NOT! They went to see a prophet who would call their lives back into order. Yet, this was not the perspective of those wearing the soft robes (Hey, this robe is pretty soft).

I consider myself somewhat of a Pharisee. It comes with the territory of being a priest. Soft robes were not seen in the wilderness, rather they were what the Pharisees would have worn within the Temple and what the Roman leaders would have worn while occupying Israel. The Pharisee’s perspective was different than that of the tax collector, as different as a Martian and our own perspective. They were so accustomed to being in the places of honor that they ignored anyone outside their well-dressed circle.

We can make a related mistake if we are not careful. Our worship, the liturgy that we so love, and the beautiful vessels and vestments that help us to remember God’s worthiness and ultimate place within our lives is to help us to remember. We use our religious practices to help us to come back together as the Body of Christ. The Pharisees mistakenly put religion in the place of God. They cared more about the soft robes than the call from the wilderness. If we are not careful we too can miss John’s call for us to prepare a way for Jesus. Jesus in turn puts at the center of our perspective our constant need to turn back to God.

We cannot rely upon our religion alone to save us. It will help us to shape our lives and it gives us a framework to remind us that we need God in our lives. Yet, what John the Baptist called everyone to do and what Jesus continues to whisper in our hearts tells us to turn around and come back to Our Father in Heaven. No matter what our perspective, tax collector or Pharisee, sinner or Saint, Earthling or Martian, we are all in need of repenting and receiving the healing power that awaits when we return to the embrace of God!

Is God a Dog person?

I am a dog person. It’s not that I don’t like cats, but having been highly allergic to them as a child I did not get to know them all that well. This was not for their lack of trying, of course. Cats somehow knew that I was not so fond of them, so they would instinctively come up to me just to make me sneeze.

Talking about the differences between cats and dogs makes me think of a song by a musician named Fran McKendree. Perhaps some of you have heard his music. He writes mostly very deep, theologically significant, yet stunningly simple lyrics. Although the song I’m thinking of has less to do with how we talk about God and more to do with cats and dogs.

Fran penned a song called “Excerpts from a Dog/Cat Diary.” During the dog portion he plays upbeat music and gives the thoughts of a dog, “8 o’clock breakfast… my favorite, 8:20 go outside… my favorite, saw a squirrel my favorite… 3 o’clock kids home… my favorite, rub my belly… my favorite…” Then when describing the same day in the life of the cat, “This morning I awoke from a dream of freely roaming the woods to realize that my captors still have me locked within this minimum security fortress. After seeing the dried disgust that they call ‘food’ I snuck outside to find real meat. To show my disapproval I brought the head of a chipmunk and laid it upon my captors’ bed.”

The difference between cats and dogs sometimes gets overplayed like in this song, but quite often we identify ourselves as a cat person or a dog person. Today though we celebrate the life of a man named Francis who showed compassion to all creatures that he met, and in turn allows us to see a deeper reality about God.

Francis was a man who lived in the 12th and 13th centuries. While he was born into the family of a wealthy merchant in Italy after an experience of sickness and service in the military he heard God’s voice calling him to “repair my house.” He sold his possessions, which made his family very angry, to pay for repairs to the dilapidated church.

Soon he was living with the local priest and serving the poorest of the poor by treating their diseases, providing them with food, and showing them love when others would not. As Francis grew in popularity followers began to come and immolate his ways. Soon stories began spreading about the miraculous ways he cared not just for other humans, but also for other animals.

Francis gave sermons to birds who sat and listened to him until he sent them away with a blessing. He had animals like fish and rabbits follow him until he made another brother send them away. The saint even changed the heart of a ravenous wolf, such that the creature no longer terrorized a village that had lost not only sheep but also people to the animal’s teeth. To this day when you go into many gardens, including our own McKimmon Garden here at St. John’s you will see St. Francis bidding the creatures to come and receive his blessing.

St. Francis was not a dog or a cat person. He welcomed all creatures to come and receive a blessing from him. In this way he emulated our Creator who made all things good and Jesus Christ who beckoned for all of creation to turn to him for restoration and unloading of burdens. Today we gather to celebrate the blessing that all of these creatures are to us and to remember our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer who continues to bless us and these pets through our relationship together. As we take part in this blessing of the animals let us remember that God is not a dog or cat person, but rather God is a lover of all creatures… God is a critter God who blesses these creatures and us through his sustaining love. Amen.