Saint John: A Son of Thunder

After my first semester of college at Sewanee, I came home deflated. Do not get me wrong, I had a great first semester academically and athletically. My grade point average was high and my teammates voted me the most improved player on the soccer team, but still something big was missing. I told my parents that I wanted to transfer to somewhere in Alabama to a school where I already had friends. They agreed under the condition that I finish out one whole year at Sewanee first.

One of the first days back at Sewanee in the Easter semester my friend Kaeley invited me to a student led worship service and Bible study. While I had been once before, on that occasion I did not feel very welcomed; however, everything changed this second time around. A dorky looking guy named Adam came up to me, he immediately gave me a hug, and asked if I wanted to join his men’s Bible study. The excited face he wore beneath his glasses and shaggy beard made me look past how nerdy he appeared. At that same moment a prematurely balding freshman named Will came up to reinforce the offer. They said almost in unison we call ourselves “Boanerges,” which means “Sons of Thunder.” From that moment on I never thought about transferring again. For their offer to join their group was not just an invite from them, but also God saying, “Follow me.”

Today we remember one of the original sons of thunder, John the Apostle and Evangelist after whom our church is named! John was originally a fisherman with his father Zebedee and his brother James. James and John were “sons of thunder” because of how feisty they often were. As fishermen, they woke up early. They worked all day in the sun and the rain. They reeked of fish. Maybe leaving the family business was difficult on some level, but when Jesus said to John, “Follow me,” I can only imagine that leaving behind smelly, hard labor was the obvious choice. And yet, what lay ahead for this fisherman was anything but easy.

John quickly became one of the disciples that Jesus invited into deep, powerful, and mysterious moments. At the raising of Jairus’ daughter, John was there. At the Transfiguration, John was present. In the Garden of Gethsemane, John was falling asleep. John was even referred to as the disciple whom Jesus loved. Of course, this is in John’s own telling of the good news. John’s preaching of the good news through his Gospel account, letters, and revelation produce some of the most powerful moments of Scripture. Where would we be without his prologue or mystical vision of the End? We might therefore think that he was a pompous and proud man, but the truth is he was always just a simple fisherman who shifted his focus from creatures of the sea to human beings.

Each and every one of us is called in the same way that John was called. Jesus calls us too. Of course, he wears lots of disguises while calling. Sometimes it’s a friend in need. Sometimes it is our church asking you to come a little deeper. It might even be two new friends from the “Sons of Thunder” beckoning you to study scripture and goof off. Jesus is calling. How will you be sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father? How will you see yourself as a beloved disciple? How will you call others into relationship with Christ? Jesus says “Follow me.” Will you go like John?

Saint Thomas: Through the Doubt

The song "Doubting Thomas" appears on Nickel Creek's 2005 Album Why Should the Fire Die?

Today we celebrate Saint Thomas one of the twelve apostles of Jesus. Thomas, at least in the English speaking world, has earned a conflicted moniker “Doubting Thomas.” We heard an example of his “doubting” in today’s Gospel lesson. Thomas, absent when Jesus first appeared after the Resurrection, questioned the preposterous story from the other disciples that Jesus had been risen. “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). I have in the past heaped on criticism of the wavering disciple, but I am less sure today that Thomas’ doubt is problematic.

As we remember Thomas this week we would do well to see through the typical understanding that he was merely a hesitant follower of Jesus. According to Church lore he died (on December 21st) while serving as an evangelist in India, not peaceably in a hospital bed, but instead Thomas was martyred. We might say that from the moment Thomas saw the wounds of the risen Christ his life shifted; however, I believe that the questioning of this disciple served him and serves us well. Thomas, especially at this time of year, helps as a guide for those of us who possess questions; we can wonder about the stories of Angels’ proclamations, Mary’s pregnancy, and God’s Incarnation with this disciple as our model.

Doubt though, is like a double-edged sword. One edge cuts through an oversimplified version of the mystery that is our transcendent and immanent God; the other side cuts us off from believing with a childlike faith. Of course, with all the far-fetched aspects of the Nativity narrative sometimes a little bit of humor helps to lighten the seriousness of our Faith. Recently I saw a Christmas card that did precisely this. Two women were talking on the cover of the card. One woman said to the other, “A virgin birth, I can believe in that, but three wise men, I’ve never even met one wise man let alone three.” Laughter has the potential to unlock some of our stuffiness around serious questions, and allowing ourselves to laugh about how serious we become certainly helps. And yet, doubt we never voice can stiffen our hearts, cloud our minds, and choke our souls not just when it comes to God’s story, but also our own story.

The holiday season is not cheerful for all. Family struggles become apparent. The absence of lost loved ones shows painfully clear. We might ask, “Why is there such darkness at a time when we celebrate the greatest light coming into the world?” Even the best of us can struggle with keeping our focus on the illumination of the incarnation in the seemingly dark shroud of unasked doubts. My kneejerk reaction when facing these questions is to shove them down, so that I never voice my concerns. However the theologian Paul Tillich reminds us of something that Saint Thomas knew well, “Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is one element of faith.” This Christmas season if and when doubts arise, do not lock them away, for that is when we become stagnant followers. Instead, allow the wanderings and the wonderings within to strengthen faith shining a new light on those areas of uncertainty.

In our Episcopal Tradition we have a wealth of wonderful worship resources including a book called Holy Women, Holy Men. This book tells the stories of saints from past and present. The scholars who describe Saint Thomas remind us that “The expression ‘Doubting Thomas’… is not entirely fair to Thomas. He did not refuse belief: he wanted to believe, but did not dare, without further evidence. Because of his goodwill Jesus gave him a sign, though Jesus had refused a sign to the Pharisees. His Lord’s rebuke was well deserved: ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe’ (John 20:29). The sign did not create faith; it merely released the faith which was in Thomas already.”   Thomas believed. He had given up his life to follow Jesus, and yet, his doubts had locked up his faith.

The band Nickel Creek wrote a beautiful song entitled, “Doubting Thomas.” Through the progression of the song part of the chorus changes from “I took a promise/But I do not feel safe/” to “I can’t keep my promises/Cause I don’t know what’s safe” to finally “I’m a doubting Thomas/I’ll take your promise/Though I know nothing’s safe/Oh me of little faith.” A mature faith allows for doubt, but this doubt is not an element that locks faith away, but rather opens up our wonder and awe of the Divine. To believe means being risky, unsafe, and vulnerable. This is so difficult.

To follow Jesus requires us to seek Christ through the doubt that obscures and somehow strengthens our faith. Through the doubt we find ourselves at the moment when Jesus shows his hands and his side to Thomas, we too are greeted by the Risen Christ. We, like the disciple, fall before Jesus recognizing He is Risen. We too are called to respond to God’s presence by sharing the Good News with those whom we meet. Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is one important element of faith that invites us to wonder and wander with God. In this season of the unbelievable I invite you to be like Thomas, I invite you to seek the presence of Christ here in your midst, and I invite you to recognize the Risen Christ as your Lord and your God. Blessed are those who do not see and yet believe.

Hilda, Abbess of Whitby: Living Your Rule of Life

Today the Church celebrates Hilda of Whitby

Whether we know it or not, we are living life by a rule. This rule is sometimes hidden and at other times as clear as day. We consciously or unconsciously go about our days with this rule helping to make our decisions: guiding us in what we say, where we go, and how we act. As strange as this might sound we all have a Rule of Life, but Hilda whom we celebrate today presents us with a challenge. Instead of slogging through life unaware of the rule, Hilda’s witness as a saint of the Church, emerges as an example of how to live intentionally, so that God may fully bear Christ in us.

We will come back to the Rule of Life in a moment. First, let us go back in time. The Venerable Bede, the famous Church historian, wrote, “Hilda’s career falls into two equal parts,” as she spent thirty-three years in secular habit before dedicating the second half of her time on earth to monastic living. Now, before you tune out because monasticism seems ridiculous to those of us who live outside the walls of an abbey or monastery, let me pass along some wisdom that has changed how I view nuns and monks.

During the Reformation, when the Church Catholic underwent marvelous growth and tremendous splintering, a shift occurred that seems all but forgotten. The Protestants who were fed up with clericalism, the putting of clergy and monastics on a pedestal, finally had Holy Scripture that they could read in their own language and eventually books of prayer, so they could spend time with God at their own home. Many family members began to see their households as little monasteries. This seems to be a lost gift from the Reformation: we are invited to see our households as safe havens where our life in Christ is shaped as family and individual, then we are called to go forth to serve Christ in the world around us.

This vision where the home is the cloistered harbor of formation does not happen haphazardly. Just like in Hilda’s day when she founded the Abbey at Whitby a deliberate Rule of Life helps to guide how one lives, moves, and has one’s being. Interpreting a Rule of Life can be tricky, for it can diverge into legalism and earning God’s favor if we are not careful; however, we all live by rules whether we know it or not. The daily routines that we fall into are our unintentional rules. A Rule of Life therefore is not something to be maintained without grace, as much as it is a map and a guide to reveal that we are already home in God when we feel lost.  Now what Hilda’s witness asks us to do is to take on an intentional way of living within our own little monasteries, such that we clear away the clutter that distracts us from living the abundant life in Christ.

Hilda challenged those who came under her guidance to take on the virtues of “justice, devotion, chastity, peace, and charity” (Holy Women, Holy Men, 686). Everyone who met Hilda called her “mother” for she was that nurturing as a leader. Even when the Church in East Anglia struggled to bring together the Celtic and Roman branches of spirituality, she served as an example of obedience and reconciliation in the face of tension and division. Her life exemplifies an intentionality where our Rule of Life at home guides us to contemplative action in the world. What is your Rule of Life? How will you intentionally shape your life? God’s abundant grace reigns down at all times and in all places, search out a Rule of Life that helps us you to live the abundant life in Christ.

Facing Terrorism: Focus on Jesus

The stones of a building are not supposed to come crashing down. Ground beneath our feet is not meant to shake and rumble. No farmer plants seeds thinking that the season will end in famine. We do not wake up believing that a tornado will rip through our town. And no one goes through life expecting terrorists to incite mass murders nearby; however, these horrific, existence-shattering, and even life-ending events seem to be happening far too often.

This weekend I could not help but empathize with the painful reality that the people of Paris are feeling. I am sure you felt the same way. Bombings and shootings at a soccer stadium, a concert hall, and in a nightlife district rocked Parisians’ lives, much like how many of us felt shaken by the events of 9/11. And what is more, earlier in the week ghastly reports of terrorism arose from Beirut, Bagdad, and Garissa, Kenya. (All of the terror and all of the horror can very quickly put into perspective internet quibbling over the design on a coffee chain’s cup.) In this day and age, we cannot outrun the shocking news from every corner of the globe, and the news that grabs all of the headlines is of violence, famine, war, earthquakes, airline crashes, and other disasters. I have a very hard time with this being our current focus as a society, and I believe Jesus does too.

Last week’s gospel story focused on a widow, who with her two copper coins put in so much more than the showy gestures of the scribes. The outward signs of the religious were small compared to the inward abundance of the old woman. As soon as this teaching ended, Jesus and his disciples walked out of the Temple. This is where our gospel story picks up today.

One of the disciples marveled at the Temple. In that day the Temple was a sight to see. It was huge, with many balconies, covered walkways, and courtyards. Herod had the Temple built through the blood and sweat of others. It was constructed of marble to impress people from all over the world. While the magnificent appearance of the Temple was grandiose and attractive, Jesus had just finished teaching his disciples that inward devotion, not outward appearance was the mark of abundant life. Perhaps Jesus’ lesson was not getting through to the disciples, so he made a bold claim.

He said, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” These were ominous words, as the Temple would later crumble to the ground. And yet, Jesus revealed a deeper truth that persists to this day: nothing material in this world will last forever. Our greatest handcrafted achievements will one day fall down, even the mountains will be made low, the valleys exalted, and the crooked paths made straight. Still, this week I have a harder time making sense of this reality as it falls hard on my ears, and even harder on my heart. “All will be thrown down” does not engender solace or arise a sense of consolation from God. So what was it that Jesus was trying to tell his disciples?

At this moment, looking across from the Mount of Olives with his disciples Jesus was himself staring death in the face. He was in Jerusalem on the week of his crucifixion and could see the impending chaos that his disciples would undergo after he was captured and killed. The teacher was trying to pass along a Masters level lesson to his students. We too are to take on this difficult understanding.

The disciples pressed Jesus to talk about what he meant by the prediction of the Temple’s fall, but when they asked for a date and sign, Jesus did not give them a simple response. Instead of replying in a straightforward manner, he talked about false prophets, rumors of wars, wars, nations rising against nation, kingdom fighting against kingdom, and even earthquakes. Through this though he gave his followers great wisdom when he said do not let these things alarm you, or put another way, do not let all of those things distract you from what I am imbedding in you, what I am planting in you, what I am giving to you. For those things are not what is to come, the end is still to come.

“The end is still to come,” maybe this phrase does not instill in you a lot of confidence. Maybe I could say it in a little different way that will sound familiar to you Cursillo people. The best is yet to come. The best is yet to come might come off as pie-in-the-sky drivel, but I hope and believe that in God’s reality the best is yet to come.

When Jesus came to this earth he did not end senseless violence, famine, poverty, or war. We are well aware of this truth. And, his message that the end is further along was not something full of fluff. No, Jesus brought the good news that the best is still yet to come because God’s fulfillment of all in all is coming. Jesus started something when he brought healing and wisdom, freedom and release, life and love into this world. These virtues are not easily achieved, but by the grace of God this is the end, the goal to which all of us are headed when we live in Christ. Sometimes, like this week, it can be difficult to know that the beautiful end is the truth.

Just a little bit after this story from today’s gospel, Jesus shared a sacred meal with his disciples that we continue to share today. I can at times feel as though I do not understand the ways of this world. And yet, when I end up with my hands and heart open at God’s Table I know that the end is not mine to determine. Through Jesus God invites us to have a foretaste of the heavenly banquet that is yet to come where all God’s children will feast together. Yes, the end is yet to come. And yes, it is scary to not know what the end will look like. But, sometimes we get a glimpse of it.

Perhaps you heard a story that came out of Paris on Friday night. “Porte Ouverte” means “Open Door” in French. It was the hashtag that people who were already safe in France used on social media to invite those in danger off of the streets. Taxi drivers turned off their meters and shuttled stranded tourists and residents to safety. In the midst of a murderous rampage the love and open doors of strangers said to one another and to the entire world the end is still to come, the best is yet to come.

The distractions and dangers of this world are real. The pain that people feel in Paris, Beirut, Baghdad, Garissa, and elsewhere will not magically go away. We as followers of Jesus are not called to ignore the problems of this world. And yet, we are also not to be distracted from following Jesus, not even by wars, politics, disasters, or terrorism. As our reading from the letter to the Hebrews puts it, “And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” In the name of the Living God, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer! Amen.

Expectations and Resentment

Sometimes seminary education is about the scholarly work in the classroom and sometimes it is about the practical advice given elsewhere.

My Liturgy Professor spoke quickly with such verbose language and about such deep topics that my classmates and I would walk out of class thinking that we had been trying to drink water out of a fire hydrant. Dr. Nathan Jennings told us so much about the origins of our common prayer. He could articulate the mysteries of worshiping the Almighty in a way that often inspired awe at what I was getting myself into as a seminarian. However, sometimes what Dr. Jennings said about other aspects of life was even more profound.

“Expectations are resentments waiting to happen,” were his words at a New Student Orientation event. Expectations are resentments waiting to happen. I am uncertain of whether this was a phrase he coined or merely shared, but at least once a week I find myself coming back to this wisdom. This phrase stands out as particularly fitting in light of today’s Gospel lesson from Matthew.

Jesus has just capped off an impressive, rapid fire tour of teaching parables. He has compared the kingdom of heaven to treasure hidden in a field, a merchant in search of fine pearls, and a net thrown into the sea. Finally he summarized this series by saying scribes trained for the kingdom of heaven are like masters who bring forth the best of what is new and what is old. Then, Jesus and his band of followers make their way to his hometown. Instead of a continuation of this grand tour of teaching, something else entirely transpires.

In the synagogue Jesus begins teaching and the people were astounded, which at first sounds positive. And yet, in the next breath it seems the people of Nazareth cannot get past who it is that is teaching. They ask, “Where did this man get this wisdom and these deeds of power? Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary?” Apparently they cannot get past the origins of the teacher. Their minds already being made up do not allow them to hear and to receive with open hearts the message of Jesus. Their expectations are resentments waiting to happen.

How have you already made up your mind about someone? Who in your life is just the carpenter’s son? Who’s only the child of Mary? Jesus later will say that if you want to enter the kingdom of heaven you must enter it like a child. Children do not live with expectations. They respond with awe-filled gratitude and curiosity to each moment they exist. Your expectations are resentments waiting to happen. Instead of assuming God, your family, friend, or neighbor will respond in a certain way, which inevitably leads to resenting the person or situation when it does not; live your life with wonder learning from all whom God places in your way.

Can You See Now?

Sermon based upon 1 Corinthians 2:1-13

In a very astute observation Mary Hinkle Shore compares today’s reading from the letter of Paul to the Corinthians to an eye exam. Really, she likens all of what Paul does after his conversation to getting one’s eyes checked. She notes that when one goes to read the eye chart everything can become clearer or more blurry simply by the type of glass that is placed in front of one’s eyes. For Paul the glass that makes all things clear is Christ Crucified. I believe this is the event that shapes how we see the world too!

A few years back I had a conversation with a good friend. Even though we hold seemingly opposing views of God, he and I have the ability to share in intense conversations with neither of us getting offended. On that particular day he told me that he thought Christians today do not strictly live as followers of Jesus. Moreover, people who believe in Jesus also hold onto several other guiding principles. He stated thinking America is the only superpower, ascribing to one political party’s agenda, or even belonging to some group like the Masons could easily play a dominant role in living out one’s life. Looking at me he said, “You cannot possibly think that you identify primarily as a Christian.” It was a bold accusation!

How do I make sense of the world? What can I possibly say in the face of such a violent and tumultuous world? Where do I get my sense of direction in the hurricanes that blow through this life?

Paul, writing to a divided group of self-indulgent people in Corinth, made a way clear that illuminates a different path than the one obvious in his day. The worldly powers did not understand what Jesus came to do. They believed that he was dangerous. They thought he was misguided. They could see that if his message caught hold their power could slip away. Paul when he was Saul was very much a part of that group. He was a persecutor of those who followed Jesus. And yet, when he was blinded by God his vision became ever clearer not through a series of different glass lenses, but rather through the mystery of Christ Crucified.

Paul writes, “’What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him’-- these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God.” In our world we can believe a lot of different things. We can so easily get swept up in other belief systems, but Jesus calls us to go with him into and through the mystery of the Cross.

I sometimes try to explain this mystery away, but this is not just a competing belief system, this is how I am to live my life. I believe we are called to follow Jesus by practicing resurrection with God wherever we are and wherever we go. To practice resurrection means that we lay down those things that are dying in our lives. We bury those things that no longer give us life and energy and vitality. In the tomb with Christ those things cease to exist in the way that we once knew them. These deaths are not easy, but require suffering and pain and grieving.

Somehow though the vision that Paul had is something that can allow us to see beyond the foolishness of this world and truly see what God calls us to see. Namely, we can perceive that the things that were being laid down are now being raised up. The valleys are being lifted up. The high places are being made low. And the way of God is being paved, not by some powers of this world, but by the mystery of Christ Crucified.

End Racism Sunday: Be Opened

On End Racism Sunday how do we confront a "racist" Jesus?

This sermon takes into account End Racism Sunday and is inspired by Mark 7:24-37.

Sermon audio may be found here.

We love dogs don’t we? We pamper them, walk them, and bathe them. We pay for their nails to get trimmed. We send them to spas, we buy them cute outfits, and even put them on extravagant diets. I’ve heard it said that if an alien looked down upon our part of the world, it would believe that dogs are the ruling species by how well we typically treat them. While we love dogs so much, to be called a dog does not often carry the same good feelings as the ones we get when we see our furry little friends.

To be clear dog idioms are a mixed bag. “You’re my dog,” “You sly dog you,” and “top dog” certainly stand out as complementary expressions. On the other hand though there is “sick as a dog,” “hair of the dog,” “calling off the dogs,” “shouldn’t happen to a dog,” “can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” and just for good measure, “thrown to the wolves.” Taken a step further no woman wants to be referred to as the female side of the canine species, and if you’re a man you don’t want to be called an SOB.

In Jesus’ day there were also doggy terms, like in today’s gospel story. When this Syrophoenician woman humbly approaches Jesus, his response comes across with a lot of emotional static. That is, we have a hard time hearing Jesus calling her a dog without cringing. Is Jesus being playful? Did some later anti-Gentile Christians put this into Mark’s story? Wasn’t Jesus all about being inclusive? These are just a few questions worth raising when we hear Jesus’ response to a panicked mother seeking her daughter’s healing.

The phrase that Jesus used was diminutive, meaning he did not call her a big mean dog. And yet, this phrase does not come across as “cute little puppy,” but rather something like, “that little b____.” (Micah D. Kiel, "Commentary on Mark 7:24-37" www.workingpreacher.org). There is however, something more problematic for us than Jesus calling this emotional fraught woman a dirty word behind closed doors.

This Syrophoenician woman was someone from outside Jesus’ own group. She was not a Jew like Jesus. The words he spoke can at best be seen as offensive and at worst can be read as racist. How we hear, interpret, and respond to this is all the more complicated by the fact that today is a Sunday set aside by our friends in the African Methodist Episcopal Church and adopted by our Church leadership to confront racial prejudice. This is a day being called End Racism Sunday. Yet, how do we do this when we hear Jesus saying about another group of people, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”?

It can be easy for us to retroactively defend Jesus by pointing to the almost universal tendency to stick with one’s own tribe. Still his words cut through this not so sturdy defense. More helpful in understanding what Jesus said is our heartfelt belief that he came to be a light for all people. The one we, as Gentiles, call our Savior was a Jewish man who came to expand the Chosen People of God from a select group of the Abrahamic Covenant to all those for whom Christ’s blood was shed. Even through our Faith in Christ the words he spoke to this Gentile woman nag at us. We cannot hide from the offensiveness of what Jesus said, especially today we must confront these words and learn from Jesus’ interaction with someone completely different from him.

In this story Jesus was in a foreign land. Traveling from work done in the overwhelmingly Jewish area of Galilee to Tyre, a place that was practically pagan. He was attempting to find a quiet place, but was immediately interrupted by one who should not even know who Jesus was. We can, I believe, all relate to the annoying feeling of someone pestering us when all we want is to have a moment alone. Despite the interruption Jesus listened. We do not know what she said, but we know she knelt before him and begged for her daughter’s healing. The humility did not strike Jesus, in fact, he became annoyed with her, comparing her people to dogs. What transformed this interaction was her boldness.

She did not get offended, melt into tears, or walk away when called a dog. The woman took the hurtful words, accepted them, and spoke something that demanded Jesus’ attention: even the dogs eat at God’s table. God’s overabundance goes beyond the Chosen People to all people, even the ones considered dogs. Jesus healed the woman’s daughter, as he heard the audacity of this brave one.
If we are to live as God intends us to live, we cannot speak from places of racial discrimination (not behind closed doors, not in jokes, not anywhere), but we must follow Jesus’ lead. Not in what he said, but in what he did. Jesus had a conversation with someone outside his own group. When he put his foot in his mouth, he was called out on it, and he did not deny his words. Furthermore, he sought healing in this relationship and with future generations of this family. What is more he went on to heal another person, which informs us more about this first miracle.

A man who could not speak or could not hear was brought to Jesus. Jesus did not only seek healing for this man, but I believe he also sought healing for himself. Jesus’ own ears and mouth, his heart and mind were opened by the Syrophoenician woman. Jesus connected back to the confrontation with her, as he took the deaf man aside, sighed, and said, “Ephphatha!” that is “Be opened!”
Be opened! That is what Jesus said to this man and to himself, and it’s what he models for us. Be opened! Open to those who are different than you. Be open to what they say. Be open to their reality being different because of the color of their skin. Be open to the possibility that you have been deaf and dumb. Be open when you say something offensive, so that you can own it, learn from it, and seek healing.

Today we intend to End Racism, but to do so we must recognize our own role in it. In a moment we will confess our sins to God and ask for forgiveness, and in the light of reconciliation Jesus shows us a path to walk: All of us are God’s chosen people not by what we do, but by God’s love for us; as God’s children we are called to speak with those who look different, listen to them, when we speak hurtfully we must seek healing and reconciliation; do not be deaf and dumb, but be opened. Ephphatha, that is be opened!

The Martyrs of New Guinea and the Call to Lay Down Our Lives for Christ

Last Fall I went up to Sewanee to visit one of my best friends. He was in town from Boston so that he could see his family and a few friends. There was a big dinner party that night, and even without my collar on conversation around me quickly turned to religious matters, spiritual questions, and social justice issues. Most of the time I love discussing all of these matters, but as one who spends much of my business hours conversing on such issues, I was hoping to talk about playoff baseball, autumn leaves, or reminisce of days as a student there. I had no such luck.

One party-goer, a long-time Episcopalian and life-long Christian said she had been going to the Rite I service that her church in Sewanee had recently been offering. With a look of disgust she said to me, “What’s with all the blood? I mean is it necessary that we talk about Jesus’ blood all the time?” Half a drink this very compassionate follower of Jesus confided that she was struggling with the importance of Jesus’ death. Why did Jesus have to die? And on a day when we remember the Martyrs of New Guinea why do others have to die or why do they choose to die so that they can follow Jesus?

Many times in seminary we talked about various theories about why it was that Jesus died. We who are sinful were being ransomed from the debt that we owed to God. This was one theory for which I did not particularly care. God does not love what God created? How could this be when we know God made all things good and gave grace even when removing Adam and Eve from Eden? Another theory says that the Devil has our sinful souls in his grip and Jesus came to free us from that torturous fate. While I certainly believe there are forces of evil at work in this world, and ones beyond our control or comprehension, I am uncertain of the validity of this claim. So why did Jesus have to die? Why was his blood shed? How come others choose to succumb to a violent end themselves?

Throughout the history of Creation God has poured out his love upon Creation. We begin Eucharistic Prayer A by saying “Holy and Gracious Father in your infinite love you made us for yourself.” God made us because of the overabundance of the love shared between and among Father, Son, and Spirit. That love overran (intentionally) the persons of the Trinity and blossomed into Creation! When we as humans have tried to stray God has been present every step of the way ushering us back into that love from which we began. Although we continued to rebel and seek our own way adopting the same sin as our first parents, God was there every step of the way eventually going so far as to send the clearest example of that love. Fully divine, fully human Jesus chose to love us by the way that he lived, moved, and had his being on this earth.

His message of love and inclusion was too radical for his day and could not be accepted. But rather than shying away from that resistance Jesus chose to love us fully human people even through a bloody, gruesome death. When I heard this woman’s questions a year ago I could not articulate exactly why it was so important that Jesus’ blood be shed. I am still not certain that was the only way that God could save us from our sinful ways. Still what happened on the Cross was a shockwave that still reverberates to this day.

During World War II the Christian people of New Guinea were persecuted by Japanese invaders. They were tortured and killed. And yet they endured. Today there are followers of Christ who are persecuted for what they believe around this globe. There are also other innocent people of many different faiths who are killed unjustly. The blood that Jesus shed was shed for all not to gross us out or to pay off a debt to God, but rather so that we might experience in our hearts once for all that nothing not death, not persecution, not the act of any human being, religion, or government can separate us from the love that God has for each and every one of us.

We too are called to lay down our lives to follow God and to share in God’s love. The way that we practice our martyrdom happens when we come to church and neglect what we would otherwise be doing. It happens when we give up watching TV or a great book to go see someone who is stuck in the hospital. We are martyrs when we give up what we want to do and instead follow the voice of Christ calling us into love. Love is where we started, it is where we are going, and it is what we are called to do by God every day that we live!

Go Sell Everything?

Some people want to get literal about the Bible except when it comes to gluttony and fiances!

This sermon is inspired by the Gospel story from Mark 10:17-31.

Sermon audio can be found here.

Just over a week ago I got engaged to be married (WAHOO!!!). This, at least to me, is very good news. My pending nuptials have since occupied my thoughts: Where will we get married? How much money do we want to spend on this celebration? Who all can we invite? These and many other questions have been swirling around in my mind. I usually sleep like a log at night, but this week I have been more restless. All of these questions have produced a bit of anxiety, but I take it as a good sign; I am taking this next step seriously. Admittedly though, I have a hard time not relating everything back to getting married, even today’s Scripture from Mark comes back to this life-changing event.

Kim and I are not uprooting our lives today, but things will certainly be different for us in the coming months. While I may not sell all my possessions, I know that the days of living in my bachelor pad are now numbered. We both live our lives as followers of Jesus, but the way we walk with Christ will be different as we join together as a married couple. This is all very good, but like any big step into the future (going to college, buying a house, moving jobs, getting a prognosis, confronting a loved one about addiction, etc.) it is not without its share of sorrow and sleepless nights. We may respond to these transitions like the man from today’s gospel story with shock and grief.

Scholars differ in how they interpret the departure of this man, who is a “ruler” in Luke’s account and “young” in Matthew’s account of the good news. Does the “rich, young ruler” walk away devastated because he does not want to get rid of what he has or is he grief-stricken as a result of letting go of everything that he owns? I tend to lean towards the sorrow stemming from having to let go of those possessions, so that he can follow Jesus. The things we own eventually own us too!

On the day of Kim and my first date my soon-to-be-in-laws did something very strange. They sold their home, the place where Kim and her brother spent their formative years, and bought a motor home. They sold most of what they owned and put some family keepsakes in storage and have since traveled across the United States and beyond. I did not know them before this moment in their lives, but even since getting to know them I have recognized a shift. They are different than they were over two years ago. I sense that there is freedom in not being tied down by a mortgage, four walls, and all that adorns the houses we call home. So what do we just sell everything we own and move into RVs? Maybe.

Younger generations are taking part in a movement to live in tiny homes, with tiny environmental footprints and less of a financial impact on their lives. Somehow though I don’t think that is Jesus’ message from today’s gospel. A friend of mine said recently, “Everyone wants to be a Biblical literalist except when it comes to gluttony, then they ignore those words and stuff their faces at Ryan’s.” I have a similar sensation when hearing Jesus speak about financial matters.

Jesus says directly to sell all that this man owns and give the money to the poor, then to follow him. This is not an analogy or parable. We are consumed by the consumerism in which we participate. We are possessed by our possessions. Where our treasure is there is our heart also. It is not that we are “bad” if we have possessions, it is that those things that possess us also distract us from fully following Jesus. Do we sell it all? Maybe not right away, maybe not all at once, but remember we cannot take it with us when we go.

The intention of our lives is not to live without possessions, for that can all too quickly turn into a type of competitive spirituality. There have been monks throughout the years who take on one another in this type of asceticism. It is as dangerous as the isolation that comes from a certain type of wealth. Rather, our intention is to follow Jesus and whatever gets in the way of this relationship must be sacrificed, whether it is a possession, an addiction, or even someone who is a stumbling block to us.

It might seem impossible for us to get rid of all of these things and that is because it is. “Then who can be saved? Who can enter into the Kingdom of God on her own? Who can earn, achieve, or possess his way inside?” “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

This is the very best news of all.

An Open Letter to the City of Vestavia Hills

It's time to call on Admiral Ackbar!

Dear Vestavia Hills,

I hope this finds you well, although from afar it appears that life feels a little bit divisive at the moment. Before going further, reintroducing myself to you would be helpful. My name is Seth Olson, for 17 of my 18 formative years I called you my home. I graduated from your Blue Ribbon High School, received an outstanding service award, outstanding English student award, academic achievement award, and captained your soccer team my junior and senior years. During that time I had very little problem with being a “rebel,” but with some years spent away and a little wisdom gleaned I think there is only one way in which you can peaceably keep that name.

The difficulty with a symbol is that the creators or perpetuators of the symbol cannot control what it means to others. I know that Vestavia Hills “rebelled” against the Jefferson County School Board, and that is ostensibly from whence the rebel mascot emerged. And yet, when I was in high school and saw fans waving Confederate Battle Flags and received some as an athlete even as a sixteen-year-old I felt something was amiss. It has taken me longer to identify the danger of the “Rebel Man,” as on some level he seems more cartoonish and less harmful; however, if we can trace his origins back to antebellum plantation owners, then it seems obvious to me that a new mascot is needed if the name Rebels is still to be given to sports teams in Vestavia Hills.

You may recall back in 2010 when the University of Mississippi Rebels, who now seem strangely forward-thinking on this issue, decided to get rid of their Colonel Reb mascot. Also, you may remember that Ole Miss tried to select General Ackbar, known most famously for commanding the Rebel Alliance in Star Wars Episode VI: The Return of the Jedi, to be their mascot. George Lucas did not get on board with the plan back then, but I have a suspicion that this might be the week to push the folks at Disney (who now control the rights to Star Wars) to lend out General Ackbar as the new rebel man Mon Calamari. Perhaps you have seen in the news that Amy Schumer unadvisedly and without permission used the likeness of several Star Wars characters in a photo shoot for GQ magazine. This Vestavia Hills is your chance.

Do not pay a marketing firm thousands of dollars. Do not draw an updated rebellious figure. Do not go the path of the Ole Miss Rebel Black Bears. Instead call up Disney, get on your hands and knees, and beg them to use the Rebel Alliance as your mascot. They will appreciate the positive PR after all this GQ nonsense. We will have a respectable and an inclusive rebel figure. Vestavia Hills will get some good publicity. It’s a win-win-win! From the perspective of just one alumnus of your fine education system I believe almost like Princess Leia that this is our only hope. “Help us Admiral Ackbar, you’re our only hope.” Otherwise, get rid of “Rebels” altogether and go with Vikings or some other predominately white mascot who violently conquered and ruled over other people, although I believe that is what got you into trouble in the first place.

With highest regards,
Seth Olson

Shift in the Economy

Sermon Audio may be found here.

This sermon was inspired by Mark 6:30-34, 53-56.

The smell was what hit me first. We had not yet even entered into the ragged open air building when I caught a whiff of something so putrid I gagged in my mouth. A wave of sound crashed over my group right as we escaped from the 95°, sun-drenched day. Faintly over the crowd, I heard our group leader saying, “Stay together, the market can get a little bit crazy.” Vendors packed elbow to elbow extending everything from beans to beats, scarves to hats, goats to chickens, and even raw fish… that was of course, I realized from where the smell emanated. As the dark skinned people noticed the light skinned people carving through the overcrowded aisles it was almost like the Red Sea parting, as the vendors made way for some exotic (to them) visitors. There was no snake-shaped staff, instead it was simply twenty wide-eyed college students trying our best to keep a low American profile. The experience still resonates with me, and even though I love our Morgan County Farmers’ Market (I was there yesterday picking up some of Stuart Thornton’s famous pickles), there is nothing in the United States that compares to the marketplaces in the developing world, such as one I walked through in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

Going into this bazaar might have been the closest thing to ever entering into the setting of one of Jesus’ healings, like those described in today’s Gospel lesson. At the start of this Good News Jesus attempted to provide for himself and others a time of restoration saying, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Jesus and his disciples had been going at a frantic pace: stopping the suffering woman’s bleeding; healing Jairus’ daughter; feeling the inhospitality of Jesus’ hometown; Jesus sending out his disciples; and the disciples preaching, anointing, and curing. Upon their return it would have seemed appropriate to take a pause to refresh. And yet, as the disciples and Jesus attempted to break, the crowds chased after them like teenagers running behind a pop star, except unlike Justin Bieber or Ariana Grande, Jesus the Christ was not just a celebrity he was the Good Shepherd. Jesus had compassion on the crowds and taught them many things.
Our Lectionary skips ahead to a second section of healing that took place in the picturesque Gennesaret, which means, “the garden of the prince.” While this might sound beautiful, its marketplace was probably as chaotic as the one I frequented in Port-au-Prince, or like so many other commerce centers in developing parts of the world. You will look at me funny, but this town center was like Wall Street, Time Square, and Capitol Hill rolled into one. A tiny market of bartering and exchanging goods seems a little underwhelming; however, make no mistake about it, the sick being brought to Jesus in the marketplace was a big BIG deal.

Our world is the same world in which Jesus walked. Sometimes we forget this. And yet, we still have not moved beyond seeing mostly by outward appearance. We still are trapped by first impressions. We still are caught up in what someone is wearing, what color someone’s skin is, or what kind of car someone drives. In Jesus’ day some of these outward markers were different, but public spaces were the places where people’s status was on display. One Biblical scholar writes that in those days these markets were the places “in which legal hearings, elections, and debates took place, in addition to the buying and selling of goods. Thus the marketplace was the political and commercial center of a city or town” (Elizabeth Webb, Workingpreacher.org). If you were powerful, if you were able bodied, if you were part of the dominant group, then you ruled the economic, religious, and political arena of the day. We might have changed the currency, the religion, and the system of government, but we still fall into the same economy as those in the ancient marketplaces.

“Those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect,” so writes Paul in a letter to the Corinthians. Jesus initiates this practice within today’s story when instead of going along with the practices of the powerful or taking the sick out into the countryside where they will not be noticed, he heals the weakest members of society in the place where the powerful did business. As someone said to me this week, this is like the sick being lined up on 2nd Avenue during 3rd Friday or if the injured were laid out in the lobby of Regions Bank. Jesus restored those who had no place in society so that they could be a part of the communal body. In the process Jesus undermined the way that things had always been done and even the way that we continue to do things.

The Kingdom of God is not just open to VIPs, reward club members, or Prime members; The Body of Christ is not only for Platinum Card holders, Kroger Card participants, or Country Club members; the people of God are not solely the rich, the powerful, the able bodied, the white, the men, or whatever other dominant label that exists. In fact, Jesus says in the Kingdom of God the first will be last and the last will be first.

Today we welcome a new member into the Body of Christ. Thomas Parker Tubb is about to baptized and, like all of us, adopted as a beloved child of God. Callie, Stuart, and Parker’s godparents will make his vows for him promising to believe in Father, Son, and Spirit; to participate in the life and worship of the Church; to resist evil and repent from sin; to proclaim by word and deed the Good News of Jesus; to serve Christ in all people; and to respect the dignity of every human being. These promises are ways that we as the Body of Christ buy into God’s economy.

I so often love the economy of this world. I can so easily go with the flow as a white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant who is well-educated and able-bodied. Yet, to be a part of the Kingdom of God means that we are invited to take part in a different economy, a Divine Economy in which we love God with heart, strength, soul, and mind and our neighbors as ourselves. To be a part of the Body of Christ means that we don’t push to the side those who are different than us, who are poorer or richer than us, stronger or weaker than us, more conservative or more liberal than us, darker or lighter skinned than us; we are the Body of Christ and we welcome all who will follow Jesus and we extend our welcome to all whom we meet. To be the Body of Christ means we take part in God’s Divine Economy where there is more than enough for all. In the Kingdom of God the first will be last and the last will be first.

In the name of the Living God Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Stop fearing, trust God!

Sermon Audio May Be Found Here!

Immediately. If you have not already noticed the frequency of this word in the Second Gospel you will now. Mark loves immediately. We might translate it as “all of a sudden” or “just then”, as we are sick of hearing immediately, but that’s the word. And back then, just like today, life can change immediately.

The call from the hospital at 2 o’clock in the morning. The knock at the door from an old friend. The news alert dinging on a smart phone. The birth announcement that you never thought would come. Immediately changes everything. Today’s Gospel lesson is all about immediately. Even if you never received the phone call that shook your soul, had your life shatter to pieces right in front of you, or feel a joy that persists even to this day this passage still speaks to the truth of our frail, profound human existence. And yet, it speaks to more than that. In the face of life and death, Jesus immediately changes everything.

Today’s good news floats between two interwoven stories of Jesus’ healing, which fit together into one neat, if a little bit lengthy, package. In the first section a synagogue leader named Jairus seeks out Jesus to heal his daughter from a deadly illness. As the crowd pulses and pursues this traveling teacher Jesus says nothing to the request, but immediately goes to heal the young girl.

All of a sudden, from among the swarm comes a woman who had given up everything in her life to seek wellness. Nothing worked. She spent her last coin to find a cure, but alas sickness continues. Finally after more than a decade of desperation she turns to Jesus wondering, “What will happen if I can just touch his garment?” When she does, she feels the hemorrhaging stop and Jesus is immediately aware of his power leaving. He asks his disciples a seemingly silly question, “Who touched me?” They thought he was crazy. “How can you say, ‘who touched me?’” in the middle of a crowd. The woman though, knowing what had happened, comes up thinking she is busted.

We might not all know what it is like to suffer for twelve years, but we all need healing of some kind or another. Whether mind, body, or spirit we seek wellness somewhere beyond ourselves. For this poor woman the last twelve years of isolation, pain, and ridicule taught her to believe that she is wrong. Her bleeding would have made her impure and her religion would have quarantined her from others. A decade of believing she was immoral for having an illness meant that even when she finds healing from Jesus she responds to his question with fear and trembling and falling down. The healing is not just about her bleeding, Jesus calls her daughter and in this moment she is restored to life in community. Immediately Jesus changes everything for her.

At that same moment, messengers from Jairus’ home came to tell the synagogue leader his daughter is dead. They say, “Your daughter is dead, Why trouble the teacher any further?” This is the type of question that can immediately destroy hope. When Jesus hears it he responds saying, “Do not fear, only believe.” We do not get Jairus’ reaction to this statement. The cynics among us might hear him say, “Sure, I’ll believe when I see my daughter alive.” And yet, Jairus walks with Jesus, Peter, James, and John. So sweetly Jesus speaks to his daughter, “Little girl, get up.” Then, again he makes sure she is restored to her community, as she tells the family to eat something with her. Immediately Jesus changes everything for this family.

A lot is changing in our national landscape. In this week alone a landmark trade bill was passed, the Supreme Court upheld the Affordable Care Act and struck down the ban on Same Sex Marriage, and just yesterday the Episcopal Church elected its first ever Presiding Bishop of color. We might be overcome with joy or suffering from grief.

The truth from today’s Gospel story that speaks into our ever changing lives is that immediately Jesus changes everything for us. This story is not just about God helping us get through a tough moment though. There were other women suffering who did not touch the cloak of Jesus who kept on suffering. There were other children whose fathers did not run up to Jesus in a crowd who got weaker and weaker. This story is not about receiving healing for a moment; this story is about our eternal salvation.

Jesus said, “Do not fear, only believe.” If you are already living life afraid it is hard to hear the words “Do not fear,” and do anything but wonder, “How?” Perhaps a better way to understand these words is “From this moment moving forward, do not give into fear, instead trust in God.” of “Give your heart over to Jesus for from God is not just healing but life everlasting.”

We all need healing and immediately Jesus can change everything. For as some of us celebrate this week, others in our land feel bitterness. I clearly see the need for healing not just within ourselves as individuals, but for us as a larger community.

People keep posting “Love Wins” on FaceBook. I do not like that phrase. Not because I do not love Love, but rather because Love does not create losers. As Paul writes to the Corinthians:

"Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends" (1 Corinthians 13:4-8).

We need love. All of us together. Love never ends, nor does it create a winner or a loser, but instead it brings us into the transformation that Jesus showed in the healing of this woman and this girl. And this healing happens when we believe, when we give our hearts over not to fear, oppression, winning and losing, and bitterness, but rather when we trust God giving our hearts to the healing love of Christ.

Do not give into fear, trust in God, for Jesus changes our lives immediately!

Not Your Mama's Rapture

The Rapture might just look a little different than this.
(picture credit: https://www.swrc.com/media/wysiwyg/rapture.jpg)

There is an awful experience that I hope you have never endured, even though I think you probably have. Maybe this event occurs in a pivotal romantic relationship. Sometimes it happens on the playgrounds of our youth. And sadly, this scarring incident can take place in the innocence of our family of origin. Almost every single human being walking the face of the earth has at one point or another felt the suffocating heartbreak of being abandoned.

Whether you were not the right fit for someone, you were not fast enough in the schoolyard, or you were mistakenly seen as not enough by a parent or sibling that cold feeling of being left out can mark us for the rest of our lives. At times when my own insides were hollow except for the sting of rejection I would instinctively look to God, my strength and my redeemer. I can recall distinct moments when I leaned on this teaching that God’s Spirit always stuck with me no matter where I went, what I did, or what happened to me (Luke 24:49; John 3:8; John 14:26; Acts 2:4). If this belief is true, like I hope it is, then today’s Gospel Lesson from the Daily Office leaves me confused and on the verge of that empty sensation.

Luke 17 (our lesson for today) along with several other passages from Holy Scripture (Matthew 24; Daniel 12; Revelation) state that the moment of judgment separates some from God. Whether it is sheep and goats or wheat and chaff it seems that Jesus points out that some and not all receive a welcome inside, instead of where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Sticking with our current lesson, Jesus tells us that “On that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. There will be two women grinding meal together; one will be taken and the other left” (Luke 17:36-37). So how are we to make sense of these two teachings: God’s presence remains with us no matter what AND one will be taken by God and the other one discarded?

I do not have an easy answer to this, for no one has ever experienced the moment of rapture as it is popularly described. Perhaps some have been taken away, but for those of us who remain if we observed such an occurrence would we really want to talk about it? All sarcasm aside, the way that we interpret the End of Days needs some real attention. For we can so easily slip into a practice of believing that whatever we are doing is right and will lead to being swooped up by God, while others will be left looking around as God beams us up to heaven.

While I hope in my heart that God did not, does not, and will not abandon us, there is also reason to believe in this Truth more than just the feeling of one preacher. In this same passage from Luke 17 Jesus answers the Pharisees’ (not his favorite lads) question about the Kingdom of God’s coming by saying, “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, 'Look, here it is!' or 'There it is!' For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.” Jesus was assuredly talking about his earthly work, but that kingdom continues as we recognize the Christ within us. Additionally, if we are to believe that the Kingdom of God is already here then more of Jesus’ words are not so cryptic and like what the head of a cartel might say, but rather clues to how to live into the kingdom life.

Jesus tells his disciples, “On that day [when the Son of Man comes, which is happening NOW], anyone on the housetop who has belongings in the house must not come down to take them away; and likewise anyone in the field must not turn back… Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.” The moment of God’s Coming is not some distant time in the future, but right this very second.

We must not be distracted by the tasks of the hour, but live every moment recognizing that the Kingdom of God exists around us and within us. One might be distracted by trying to secure life instead of living in the presence of Christ that is within us all. When we focus too much on security we miss the Son of Man returning. Other instances when we focus on locking up more profits, more success, more things distracts us from seeing the richness God bestows to us in every moment. Does this mean we no longer farm, work, eat, drink, or go about our daily life? No, rather God’s constant “rapturing,” as the Son of Man comes to us in ourselves and in our neighbor means that our lives are altered not ended.

That feeling of being left out stings our entire being whether it at recess, by a lover, or in our family. We may take Jesus’ words to mean that God will leave us out if we are not careful; however, we are the ones who choose whether to take part in a relationship with the Almighty. Christ eternally comes to us in every moment. The Spirit always dwells with us. Our Creator leaves imprints on every fabric of our being. We cannot opt out of God’s love for us. We might choose to focus instead on securing this life, but in that moment we are not cast into the outer darkness, rather we miss that Christ’s presence is with us calling us ever deeper into relationship with the Divine.

The Season of Pentecost

Like any good preacher I did not write a manuscript down for this sermon on the Day of Pentecost, but instead relied upon the Holy Spirit! Here's the audio! Sermon inspired by Acts 2:1-21.

Trust: The Wisdom of Infants

“I thank you Father for you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants” Luke 10:21. (This sermon is based on Luke 10:17-24.)

I spent last week with two two-year-olds. They are not infants, but this message from Jesus is not lost on me after attempting to corral my twin nephews for a week at Disney World. They did not have a care in the world, and yet, everything they needed was provided for them.

My family and I were busily attempting to plan out the best way to spend each day, where we would eat, what rides we would go on, and when we would attend what shows. The twins and even their older sister were able to avoid all of the minutiae of plotting everything out, and somehow enjoy everything even more than I did (if that is possible). How did this happen? They trusted!

We are missing the beginning of the story in today’s good news. Jesus sent out 70 (or 72) of his disciples like lambs to the slaughter without purse, without bag, and without any spare underwear. Try doing that at Disney World! And yet, not only did everything go well. The disciples (all seventy of them) not only came back without blemish, but they also came back having casted out demons and not even needing an extra tunic to accomplish it.

The thought of not going even on vacation with an overnight bag and all my things makes me go a little crazy. I can make even simple trips way too complicated! As I observe my tendency to always be prepared, I notice that I like to be in control. Putting myself in control means so often that I miss opportunities to trust God and to trust my neighbors. We all have probably heard it said, “If you want to hear God laugh tell God your plans.” Somehow though I, and maybe you too, still manage to try and plan out everything according to my own will.

The story of sending out the pairs of disciples provides the perfect opening for us control freaks to wonder what it might look like not to rely so much upon what we think is best, but instead to expect that the Holy Spirit and our neighbors will provide care for us. My nephews did not worry about what they would eat or what they would drink or what they would wear. They believed in those around them to provide. What if we did like the disciples and like infants?

Sometimes we hear sensationalist stories of gunfights, riots, murders, and disasters on the news. These reports create a fear-filled perception of the world. We may think that it is best to stay in our own little bubble. Maybe this is true. On some level the newscasters base their accounts in reality. Bad things do in fact happen in our world. Jesus even acknowledged as much when he sent out his disciples in Matthew’s account of this story, “See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” And yet, what happens when we no longer rely upon those around us?

Trusting God and trusting our neighbor cannot just happen. We must remember this ability to believe in others with which we were born. Sometimes though this is difficult. Perhaps what we need is the opportunity to build up this “trust muscle” within us like we any other part of ourselves. One does not hop off a couch and run a marathon, nor does one hop on stage and perform on Broadway, and no one makes a career out of something one has never studied. The same is true of our ability to trust. So what are we to do?

The Church at its best can be that place to try out trusting others. Churches are not perfect, for they are made up of imperfect people; however, my hope remains that we can practice trusting in one another here at St. John’s. When Jesus sent out the seventy they stayed in strangers’ homes, they ate what was provided, they healed others, and all of this showed their ability to let go of the details, the planning, and the control. Instead, they trusted in God and their fellow human. Let us too practice believing in one another. Be like infants who do not worry, but trust!

Expect Resurrection

You are made of bones, sinews, flesh, skin, and... 

Homily audio can be found here. This homily is based on Genesis 1:1-2:4a; Genesis 22:1-18; Exodus 14:10-31; 15:20-21; Ezekiel 37:1-14; Romans 6:3-11 ; Matthew 28:1-10

We have made our way through Holy Week. We have walked the streets of Jerusalem waving palms. We have had our feet washed by Jesus and washed one another’s feet. We have witnessed the betrayal, denial, and sentencing of Jesus. We have journeyed to the Cross to behold the pain of Jesus and the glory of God’s self-sacrificing love. Now after a day of rest we are at the tomb.

“Suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them” (Ezekiel 37:7-8).

You are made of bones and sinews and flesh and skin. You are also made of atoms, a lot of atoms! Rob Bell, who is a Christian thinker and author, said on a recent podcast that we are made up of 7 billion, billion, billion atoms. Some of the atoms in our bodies date back over a billion years. That is right, you are made of atoms that previously constituted something else. The heavier atoms actually come from star dust. So you are made of bones, sinews, flesh, skin, atoms, and stars!

What is more parts of you are constantly dying away. Every week you regenerate new skin cells. More amazingly every seven years or so your entire body will be reconstituted by new cells. Hundreds of millions of cells die within you and hundreds of millions more come to life. You are ever dying and you are ever coming to life. You are not just made of bones and sinews and flesh and skin and atoms and stardust. You are made of death and rebirth! The you that you are today is not the you that you once were, nor is it the you that you will become. You are made of death and rebirth. You are death and resurrection.

If this is who you are, which I believe is the case for all of us, spotting death and resurrection would seem an easy task, but somehow we miss it or part of it. We easily observe death, just turn on CNN, open your paper, or check out a news website. Death drives sales! Yet, all this death tends to dry us out. We end up like the bones from Ezekiel’s valley. We are breathless. So what do we do? How can we mere mortals catch God’s breath? We can’t. Not because we are unworthy or bad or wrong, but because God’s Spirit already resides within us. Yet, if this breath is in us how can we get so lifeless? We need Resurrection.

A long time ago there were two women. Although they did not appear in the foreground of Matthew’s account of the Good News about Jesus of Nazareth until the very end, they had been with him since the beginning at Galilee. They have provided for him Matthew tells us. This is an interesting word for it is not used all that often except to describe angels, Peter’s mother-in-law, and Jesus himself. They provided Jesus with comfort, food, and fellowship. They gave life, but how?

Now on the first day of the week after the day when Jesus was crucified and after the Sabbath when Mary and Mary had been starring at the place where Jesus rest, they decided to go see the tomb. These women act strangely at first glance, why would you sit and stare or go to look at a sealed grave? Recall that Jesus foretold of his Resurrection, well these two actually heard it and remembered it. They were not going to look at an enclosed cavern they were coming to see the Resurrection. They were on the hunt for Resurrection. They understood that they were not going out to look at death for they brought no spices to adorn the dead. They went out actually looking for Jesus to be raised from the dead.

To be here at the Easter Vigil I imagine that you are pretty serious or pretty curious. You are either pretty serious about following Jesus or you are pretty curious about what following Jesus actually means. Following Jesus means recognizing the substance of your being comes from death and resurrection. Following Jesus means being like these women who provided for Jesus, except that when we provide for Jesus now that means we provide for everyone who makes up his body now (i.e. the least among us). Following Jesus means that we do not remain dry and breathless in the face of death, but in the face of death we expect God’s resurrecting power.

On this most Holy night remember that you are made of bones, sinews, flesh, skin, atoms, stardust, death, God’s breath, and Resurrection. Know that your call in this new glow of Easter is to be like Mary and Mary. Go out and provide for Jesus wherever you meet Him. And, most importantly expect Resurrection! Expect to find Resurrection wherever you may see death! Be Resurrection, provide for the Resurrected Lord, and expect Resurrection!

In the name of the Resurrected Lord who is Father, Son, and Spirit! Amen.

Human Failure and God's Love

This Good Friday Sermon is based upon John's Passion Gospel. Sermon audio can be found here.

On Good Friday we hear John’s Passion Gospel every year. Somehow though something different sticks out each time that I hear this painful story. Today, I cannot help, but hear the failure of human beings just like you and me. Mistake after mistake after mistake:

Judas betraying Jesus into the hands of a detachment of soldiers and police from the chief priests and Pharisees.

Peter not just wielding the three-fold blade of denial, but also striking Malchus on the ear, as he attempted to save Jesus.

The religious crowd, which recently cheered “Hosanna!” fearfully transforming into a mob shouting, “Crucify Him!”

Pilate tired and apathetic giving up on a man whom he knew was innocent.

Soldiers tearing the garments off of Jesus for their own gain.

Roman occupiers meaning not only to kill Jesus but through crucifixion to embarrass and torture him and his people.

What stands out at first is human failure after failure after failure resulting in the death of Jesus of Nazareth. I think I see this because I want to reach back in time and stop this moment from happening. I want to say, I would never fail you Lord, but as soon as I say those words, I hear Peter telling Jesus he will never deny his teacher. I want to skip over this day.

We in the Church often say that we are Easter people and are in the business of new life, reconciliation, and resurrection. While I fully believe we mean this, we do not wear miniature empty tombs around our necks, nor do we put that symbol on a pole to follow as we make our way through life together. On this day when we have hidden the sign of the Cross I find it difficult not to see the Cross everywhere I look.
Yesterday 147 students were massacred at a Kenyan college primarily because they followed Jesus. Throughout the Middle East ISIS continues to persecute and kill Christians without hesitation. Closer to home over 14,000 people are murdered every year within the United States (FBI Crime Stats). 32 states, including Alabama, still implement the death penalty. Prophets of our age warn us of the harm we inflict on the earth through poor care of Creation practices, yet we apathetically continue our lives of convenience. AK-47s, electric chairs, and smoke stakes are the Crosses of our day. We who are Easter people may just want to skip ahead like fast-forwarding through painful scenes in a movie.

In the movie Shawshank Redemption (a film particularly fitting for this weekend) the protagonist, a man named Andy Dufresne, finds himself imprisoned at Shawshank Penitentiary. In a moment of desperate clarity he says to his friend, “Get busy living or get busy dying.” I think when we simply call ourselves Easter people we tend to twist this phrase around, as we say to Jesus, “Get busy dying, so that we can get busy living.” We are not strictly Easter people, nor is the Cross simply about human failure, nor is today merely a day to make it through.

Last night Peter did not want Jesus to wash his feet. The disciple could not understand what was happening. He protested his teacher’s lesson of service saying, “You will never wash my feet!” Jesus replied, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Yet, this message did not just pertain to the moment when Jesus knelt down at his disciples’ feet. We are now at the feet of Jesus who hangs upon the Cross and we must receive another washing, but this one is not so peaceful or placid.

Jesus did not endure the shame of the Cross because of human failure. This moment when we see the worst in humanity simultaneously serves as the instant when we see just how profoundly God loves us. If we are not willing to gaze upon the Cross, if we cannot see the pain that the Body of Christ still endures today, if we do not see past our own failures to the self-emptying love of this moment, then we are not actually Easter people at all. Unless Jesus washes us with his blood we have no share with him.

This day Jesus shows us the extent of God’s love. When asked by Pilate, “What is truth?” His response as the Word of God is not with mere words, but with the fullest act of self-sacrificing love ever witnessed. What is truth? The Truth is Jesus. And the Truth is if we want to be Easter people, then we have to receive the love of Jesus now at the foot of the Cross.

Jesus willingly drank the cup given to him, he willingly took the load of our failings on his back, and he willingly laid down his life on the Cross. If we receive this love of Jesus, then we too are able to love Jesus as he loved us, not just when things are good, not just on shiny, happy mornings, but when everywhere we look we see the Cross. We are Easter people, but first must be Good Friday people. Unless we are washed by Jesus by his blood we have no share with him in his Resurrection.

The Only Time I Want To Finish Second

Who are you following? (Picture courtesy of Bondiband)

During this Holy Week we have been wandering together as we follow Jesus and pondering together what does it mean to follow Jesus to the Cross?

I feel the need to confess something that may not seem all that sinful to you: I do not like to lose. I never have liked losing. My family knows this. My friends know this. Maybe even some of you know this. Certainly no one likes to lose, but I actively avoid it almost to the point that I have a diagnosable phobia of losing.

Lately though I have been actively trying to push myself to the point of losing. Not just to get over my fear of it, but also because by actually avoiding challenges in which I might fail my gifts and skills atrophy away. Plus, I will never learn how good I might be at something I am afraid to try because I might lose at it. This reminds me of one experience in which failing brought new insight and new growth in my life.

When I was in college I switched from being a life-long soccer player to a first-time track and cross-country runner. I was terrible. Not just bad, but awful. I was the last placed runner for most of the first track season I ran. In the slowest heat of the 800 meter or 1500 meter race I was often a distant last placed finisher too. For some reason though instead of quitting I kept with it.

Eventually I learned to push through what I perceived were my barriers and with the encouragement, advice, and pacing of others I actually turned out to be an okay student-athlete. Yet, what I learned in this endeavor of failing over and over again was not so much my strengths or my weaknesses, but rather the truth from the letter to the Hebrews we heard today.

“Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Running a race with perseverance requires some skills, good training, and sound advice. And yet, some more pertinent pieces, albeit less catchy ones, from the author of the letter to the Hebrews get overlooked. First, we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. We have help in this race that we call life. People who have gone before us and those alive now can give us aid in this journey.

Next, to run a race with a weight tied to your ankle or strapped to your chest sounds torturous. On this journey of following Jesus lay aside the burden of sin that we so often carry around our necks. In this vein, do not think about the past times of failure either. They have brought you to this very moment.

Finally, and most importantly, you are not running this race without someone who is pacing you, someone who is blocking the wind for you, someone who has run the race before you. Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of this journey that is our race. Somehow I often overlook the leader who goes before me, instead focusing on how I might fail.

In today’s Gospel story from John, Jesus goes before us in a very direct way. In the synoptic gospels we find Judas to be a traitor who seeks only more money. Yet, here we find that Jesus tells Judas what to do. Even in how he was handed over to torture and death the Son of God remained aware and in control of the race he was running.

We cannot control all things. However, we do have the power to control our interior spiritual life, the thoughts to which we give energy, and the feelings which ebb and flow our mood. Jesus did not let the shame of the Cross destroy him. He knew guilt lay with others and that he was God’s Son worthy of praise and devotion not riotous murder. We too are called to cast aside the shame of whatever it is that haunts us, whether it is the irrational fear of losing, the pain of a bad decision, or something else that clings to us. Within us we have inherit worth for we too are children of God adopted through the all-encompassing love of Christ.

This section of the race brings us every closer to our yearly remembrance of Jesus’ death. Run it with perseverance, or better yet slow down to walk the way of the Cross. For we have been given a perfect pace-setter to follow. And for me, trailing after Jesus might be the only time when I want to follow finishing second instead of leading.

What Does It Mean To Follow Jesus?

Jesus never says to worship him, but repeatedly he invites any who hear his message to follow him. We spend a lot of time, and I in particular contemplate often, how we can best praise the Almighty. Certainly we can bear spiritual fruit by experiencing powerful moments of reverence and devotion. Yet, all the worshipping can distract us from following. Over the next six days let everything else fade away. Ponder the central question of Holy Week and all of our lives: “What does it mean to follow Jesus?”

John’s Gospel account invites us to enter into this journey to the Passover feast following after Jesus. When hearing this character-packed story we tend to put ourselves in the place of one or more of the characters. We, as human beings, have a great gift to put ourselves in the place of someone else. We can sympathize, empathize, and even project what a potential outcome would be if we were in another’s place. So with what character do you most identify? Who are you? What does this say about how you follow Jesus?

As John brings us to Bethany we first hear of Lazarus. How does Lazarus follow Jesus? Almost immediately preceding this reading Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead. This is one instance in which we might have a difficult time empathizing with a character for who among us has ever tasted death and come back to talk about it. And yet, in our lives we experience many small deaths. The death of someone we love, the death of a job, or the death of a dream are three examples. If we find ourselves in Lazarus’ place, then following Jesus means dying and allowing the Word of God to bring us through this death.

We do not hear of the Chief Priests until late in this passage, but they concern themselves with forcibly standing against Jesus. The Chief Priests react towards this Galilean Rabbi. They not only do not follow him, but they desire to wipe away any evidence of his life and ministry, even seeking out Lazarus to put him to death once more. While we may sharply deny our hostility towards those with different beliefs, yet this Holy Week ask when we have found ourselves in the place of the Chief Priests? When have we not only been dead in our following of Jesus, but also attempted to kill someone’s attempt to follow him?

These questions bring us fittingly to Judas. The Narrator in John’s account lets us know that Judas will betray Jesus and he has even taken money from the common purse lying of his intentions to give something to the poor. The pain that this disciple of Jesus inflicts may prevent us from putting ourselves in his place. Still honestly we must admit that we fail Jesus. We do the right action for the wrong reason. We teem with jealous of others’ seemingly higher favor with Jesus. We betray Jesus because things do not go as we plan. Strangely those not named as Jesus’ disciples are the ones we do best to emulate in following Jesus

Martha went out to meet Jesus when her brother had died. She actively looked for him as he approached the lifeless Lazarus. Then on this night, Martha served those gathered to dine with Jesus. Her sister Mary went even further.

Mary spent a year’s worth of earnings to buy a pound of nard. This substance typically used to make incense, perfume, and medicines so filled the house that no one could deny Mary’s devotion to Jesus. Unlike the Chief Priests who wanted to wipe away the memory of Jesus, Mary wanted to wipe Jesus’ feet in a display of pure devotion. Mary’s self-sacrifice, giving up a large sum of money to purchase the nard, and her show of dedication, cleansing Jesus’ feet, presupposes Jesus’ own show of service washing his disciples’ feet. Clearly, we must look to the sisters Martha and Mary for the epitome of following Jesus.

This Holy Week lose yourself in the story of Jesus. Wonder who you are in this story. Courageously place yourself in the sandals of the Chief Priests and Judas and at the feet of Jesus rubbing off the nard with your hair. For we are not simply one character or another. We have a choice in following Jesus. What does it mean to follow Jesus? How do you follow him?

6,574 Hours

10,000 hours that is the amount of time that Malcolm Gladwell cited in his book for someone to become abundantly proficient at some talent. Bill Gates spent 10,000 hours programming and became the computer genius that we know him as now. The Beatles spent 10,000 hours performing together in Hamburg, Germany before they became the best rock band in history. This is a fact by the way that the Beatles are the greatest rock ’n’ roll ever.

Consistently working at something tends to be the way that human beings go from good to great to phenomenal to world-class. Sure one must start from somewhere and it is hard to think that someone 5’2” would ever play professional basketball or someone born without rhythm would ever work to be a great drummer. Still we are given a certain set of gifts that hopefully we will discover, cherish, and use to bring great joy and healing into this world. This is the story of most vocations (callings) and even our pastimes and non-stipendiary passions. Yet what about spending 6,574 hours being someone?

6,574 hours (9 months) is the amount of time a mother on average spends being pregnant. And, since today is the day when we celebrate the Annunciation we have only 6,574 hours until we will be celebrating Christmas. (Have you gotten all your shopping done?) Mary spent 9 months not working on any particular set of skills, but rather she was called into being a most important servant of God.

Mary was surely given a set of skills from God that enabled her to answer the call from God. And yet, the story of Mary saying, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” has little to do with working hard and everything to do with a calling we all hear. No, I am not saying we are all called to have children. I can never spend nine months in pain and agony impatiently waiting to bring new life to this planet. Rather, what I mean is that each and every one of us has the opportunity to respond in the same way as Mary to our Christian vocation in an evangelistic way.

OH NO! I said a word that I should not have said in an Episcopal Church. I am sorry. “Evangelism” has a tendency to make us squirm does it not? We have heard too many people standing on the street corner screaming. We have witnessed too many headlines with a televangelist absconding with a pile of money and a pretty, young thing. I do not know about you, but I tend to recoil at these images. Yet, not when I think about Mary.

Mother Mary meek and mild bore the ultimate good news into this world. She was the one who was able to first herald assuredly in a surreal state to her betrothed that she was to bear the Son of God. I do not know how well that conversation went, but Joseph agreed to stick with Mary. For nine months she carried within her God’s own Son. Then for years to come she nursed, swaddled, taught, protected, disciplined, and mostly loved the God Incarnate who was also her child!

Sometimes I can get caught up in saying or typing or preaching the right words, which good evangelists typically try to do. Words are so very important. Yet, on this day when we recognize the Annunciation when Mary began this journey with Jesus, I am struck by the reality that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. She would call him, as Isaiah foretold, Immanuel, which means God with us.

We all have different gifts and talents that bear witness to God’s power working in us. Each of us has the opportunity to find how what we can do will bring healing and joy into this world. Some of us are musicians. Some of us are great at tax preparation. Others might be able to help others in need. This is to be discerned, practiced, and celebrated. Yet, we all have a call that sometimes makes us squirmy. We are called to share the Good News of Jesus Christ with everyone we meet.

Mary helps me to know that this does not mean carrying around a Bible with which we beat others. Rather, we are to bear Christ into the world in the humanly ways that we know so well. We are to break bread together, to resist evil, to repent, to seek and serve Christ in others, to strive for peace and justice among all people, to respect the Dignity of every human being. Basically, the way that we bear Christ into the world is to see the God within every person whom we meet and in ourselves too. I thank God for choosing Mary the Mother of God and for her witness that we all carry God within us. How will you share God with those whom you meet?