More To The Story

What is your favorite tradition? Is it something with your family? Does it revolve around a holiday? Do you have a custom that makes your week or weekend complete? Whatever it is I bet it is great! And, I imagine that it brings some sort of fulfillment—otherwise why would you do it? 

You may already know this but college football season is imminent. Every year even though I look forward to this fall tradition, it always seems to sneak up on me. The pageantry, pregame tailgating, and prognosticating by the experts adds something to my Saturday experience. And, even though I don’t live in the same town as the rest of my family I know what all of us are doing when our team is playing. So, what could possibly be wrong with all the great traditions surrounding something so fun as college football? Well, nothing necessarily. But, if we are not careful this coming Sunday we might hear Jesus telling us to get rid of traditions altogether.

On this surface this passage from Mark’s Gospel account seems clear cut and straightforward. Using Isaiah as his inspiration Jesus claims that the Pharisees—the religious of the religious—“Abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” If we were simply to read these words out of context we might think we aren’t to have traditions, customs, or any sort of regular practices; however, there is more to the story than flatly attesting ritual is bad!

As important as the word tradition is in what Jesus said there’s another word, or actually set of words, that is paramount. Jesus appears livid with the Pharisees for calling out his disciples who were eating with defiled hands (eww gross… also, this was a big no-no for faithful Jews of Jesus’ day). Jesus’ response to their claim that his followers weren’t paying attention to the elders’ customs was to contrast God’s commandments with human tradition. These two modifiers (God and human) make all the difference and leave me wondering about my own practices? Whose custom or law or tradition am I practicing? For whom am I doing this thing I claim is so very important? Why is this tradition worth holding up? Is it?

These questions implore me to dig even deeper into this story. And, what I discover here (at least initially) is a frustrating tension. Tradition is often good. It helps provide a framework and consistency. But, by itself it is like the wisdom koan, which tells of a man who after crossing a river in a boat decided to stay there on the shore to worship the vessel, instead of continuing his journey onward. The morale implied here is that tradition alone is useless. What matters is how our practices bring us into ever deeper relationship with God, Our Eternal Parent.

If we spend our lives worried about whether or not we are “doing it [a tradition] right” we will completely miss the point. We will be the man worshipping the boat, instead of worshipping and walking with Christ Jesus. This week as I approach this text I see that traditions can be healthy, but they can just as easily be dangerous. What matters more than our human practices is our relationship with the Divine. Do your traditions and practices develop your relationships with God and neighbor or do they distract from them?

Repeated Wisdom

Knock, knock... Who's there?... BANANA!

This sermon was preached on the 13^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 15B) at St. John’s Church. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
Ephesians 5:15-20
John 6:51-58

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Banana.

Congregation: Banana who?

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Banana.

Congregation: Banana who?

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Banana.

Congregation: Banana who?

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Orange.

Congregation: Orange who?

Me: Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

[Everyone laughs… okay not really.]

That is my favorite joke. And, it’s terrible, I know. I’ve loved it for longer than I can remember. Its humor comes from—okay it’s not really funny—but, if it were funny it would be funny because of its repetition. We may think the same thing about the Gospel lessons we’ve heard over the last few weeks. It is funny—but not really funny—because Jesus keeps repeating the same thing over and over again. But why?

Why does Jesus say the same thing over and over again? We have heard for the past four weeks (including today) that Jesus is the Bread of Life, the Bread of Heaven, the Bread that will feed the World. So why must we keep hearing this again and again? Why does Jesus keep overwhelming us with more and more difficult passages about him and bread? 

I can think of three reasons why someone would repeat oneself over and over and over again. First, because one’s audience was not listening—What? Second, because one’s audience did not get it—Huh? And third, because what one was saying was just that important. Those reasons again—not listening, not understanding, and too important. And, strangely enough I believe this passage points to all three of these being true. Jesus said these things because the people were not listening, they did not getting it, and what he was saying was too important not to repeat. Let’s look at these three more deeply.

When I was a kid I did not listen well. Almost always when my mom spoke the first word out of my mouth in response was, “What?” Sorry mom. I realized that I did not do a good job of really paying attention. It was not a problem with my ears but rather my intention. Similarly those in Jesus’ day were not intentionally listening to what Jesus said. We can even see this in the way that Jesus and the religious folk spoke to each other.

Previously in the Sixth Chapter of John, allusions were made to the story of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness being fed by God with manna—bread from heaven. In that Old Testament story the people grumbled for flesh. Their words were give us the flesh. This is almost exactly what the people said to Jesus today. We read it as “his flesh” but that was not what they actually said—our translation makes an interpretation changing “the” to “his.” Read this way it would say, “How can this man give us the flesh to eat?” and it changes how we hear their words. Jesus though was talking about his flesh feeding them. The people were not listening though, but why?

Those people who had been following Jesus around throughout this chapter had been fed with actual bread from Jesus. Imagine how good that bread was! I mean I know we love our communion bread here. And, if we were ever to run out of communion bread our congregation might just revolt. They might even throw back the wafers at me and tell me that Jesus did not eat chips! (Not that that has ever happened.) So, those who followed Jesus around were fed by him. They ate bread from heaven and they wanted more. Some though were not listening for something more—they just wanted something to eat. And, even those who were intentionally listening—those who weren’t just looking for something to eat—might not have really understood what Jesus was speaking.

Jesus said what he said over and over and over again in part because his listeners may not have understood what he really meant by what he said. What we heard Jesus saying this morning could be construed in many different ways. As we realized last week, Jesus does not want us to be cannibals, but his words really do point to a physical reality. When he said he was giving his flesh for the life of the world he signified to those listening something that was about to happen.

Soon enough in Jerusalem Jesus would be betrayed, persecuted, tortured, crucified, and killed. This really was him giving up his flesh. Still there was more than one layer to what Jesus was saying—hence why it was hard and is still hard to understand and why Jesus had to build up his teaching slowly. Yes, there was this layer of what was actually happening, but what about all the references to bread and eating this bread, his flesh? To eat his flesh and to drink his blood as bread and wine certainly refers to Holy Communion, but even in that is another mystical dimension that encompasses the physical, the metaphorical, the spiritual, and even what is beyond our comprehending.

This truth, this reality was so important that Jesus said it over and over and over again, which is that third reason why he repeated himself. Still Jesus made a leap throughout this chapter in John. He leapt from believing to eating. Those who believe will eat and those who eat will have eternal life through their believing. Sure, again this refers to the reality of sacramental grace that happens at the altar rail, but it also can and maybe does happen at all times and in all places. For believing is not only about eating, but also about consuming. It matters what we consume and also what consumes us.

What do we consume? What do you consume? Not just what do you eat, although that is interesting enough to think about, but what do you do with your time, talent, and treasure? I invite you to take a few moments to think about that this week by taking part in three practices: 1. Look at your financial accounts. What do you consume with that money? When you get a paycheck does the first dollar go to God’s work or to what you want? 2. Look at how you spend your time. How much time does God get? When does that happen? Is it first thing in the morning? Is it just some leftover time here and there when you think about it? 3. Look at what activities, tasks, or events give you the most energy and which ones drain you the most. Not always but often the things that give us the most energy are areas where we have talent and when directed towards God’s work in this world it can be powerful. Those areas are where we find our purpose and where we find our calling. You might find some fit for your calling today at the Rally Day Ministry Fair.

When you look at your life in these areas you might just see what you consume with your money, your time, and your energy. But, what consumes you? Often we think that heaven or the Kingdom of God are realities that await us when we “awake” on the other side of the grave; however, I don’t think that is the important thing that Jesus came to tell us. When the Body and Blood of Christ consume us—not just the other way around—then we realize that our entire lives—all our treasure, our time, and our talent—can be utilized for the building up of God’s Reign here on earth. When we are consumed by Christ, then everything works towards God’s purposes. 

Each of us is called into the ministry of Christ. We are all called to be members in the Body of Christ. All our stories fit into the Story of God’s Love—the sharing of the Good News of Christ. And to be more a part of all of this, God is calling us to be enveloped in Christ, consumed by the Body and Blood of Christ.

We hear Jesus repeating his wisdom over and over and over again because we might not be listening at first, and because we might not get it all at once, and mostly because what we are hearing is so important. What we believe matters. And what we believe can best be seen not in what we say believe, but in looking at what we eat, what we consume. What do you consume? What consumes you? May it be always and only the Body and Blood of Christ. Amen. 

Faithful Devotion Leads To Faithful Action

An Icon of the Blessed Virgin Mary

This sermon was preached at both St. John's, Decatur, AL and St. Andrew's, Birmingham, AL. The lessons that inspired the message were the following:

• Isaiah 61:10-11
• Galatians 4:4-7
• Luke 1:46-55
• Psalm 34 or 34:1-9

 Some of my memories of the church where I grew up still come back to me from time to time: Standing up in an old wooden pew gazing at the mystery of the Holy Eucharist unfold. Smelling frankincense. Seeing the smoky yellow hue envelope the sanctuary when the light shining through the golden stained glass windows hit the smoke of a billowing thurible. Lighting a candle at the foot of the Mother of Jesus. Admiring a vivid icon of a Civil Rights martyr. Taking in people of all backgrounds sharing a sign of peace, then the Body and Blood, then the mini-feast of Coffee Hour.

These images not only float back to me, but they represent my upbringing at St. Andrew’s Church, Birmingham. Even more than those powerful memories, the church of my childhood gifted me with two profoundly important Christian virtues: reverent piety and faithful action. Yesterday and today in the Church Calendar may be the most fitting days to celebrate these virtues.

No time in the entire Church year is as St. Andrew’s-y as the Feasts of Blessed Jonathan Myrick Daniels (celebrated on August 14^th) and the Blessed Virgin Mary (celebrated on August 15^th). In their individual witnesses of the Good News of Christ Jesus these two beloveds of God tied together reverent piety and faithful action— intentional devotion and social justice. Even more than the back-to-back nature of their celebrations in the calendar of saints, God weaves these two holy ones together. And, we will discover just how closely in just a moment.

Yesterday, when remembering the life of Jonathan Myrick Daniels I found myself struck by his faithful action. He traveled down to Selma, AL to take part in the Civil Rights Movement. While others from the Episcopal Divinity School came with him for a weekend, as most of them were about to depart Daniels wondered what that would look like to locals—just staying for a weekend. So, he made arrangements to stay longer. After spending some time back in the Northeast to finish finals and to fulfill family obligations, Daniels returned to the Black Belt of Alabama where he would soon be martyred by stepping in front of a shotgun blast that was intended for young, black woman. Sometimes it is hard to know what would strengthen someone to withstand such a holy calling as martyrdom. How could Blessed Jonathan have the courage to stand up for his sister in Christ? What sustained him? What can sustain us?

Daniels felt so challenged and encouraged not simply on his own, but through faithful devotion. That is to say his ability to faithfully act emanated from his time spent in daily individual prayer—the Daily Office—and his time spent in communal prayer—the Holy Eucharist. He was ready to be a martyr because he practiced martyrdom by stopping what he would have otherwise been doing to pray to and to commune with Christ. One part of the Daily Office though served as a poignant catalyst for his pilgrimage to the Black Belt area. It was in the words of the Blessed Virgin Mary that Jonathan Daniels heard God beckoning him. As Daniels described it:

“My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.” I had come to Evening Prayer as usual that evening, and as usual I was singing the Magnificat with the special love and reverence I have always felt for Mary's glad song. “He hath showed strength with his arm.” As the lovely hymn of the God-bearer continued, I found myself peculiarly alert, suddenly straining toward the decisive, luminous, Spirit-filled “moment” that would, in retrospect, remind me of others—particularly one at Easter three years ago. Then it came. “He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble and meek. He hath filled the hungry with good things.” I knew then that I must go to Selma. The Virgin's song was to grow more and more dear in the weeks ahead.[1]

The life of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Good News of Christ thus was woven into the life of Jonathan Myrick Daniels—reverent devotion inspiring acts of social justice. Our love and devotion of God, our holy parent, is inseparable from the call to serve God’s beloved children. Jonathan’s life reflected this truth, and so did Mary’s.

Throughout the Gospel of Our Lord Christ Jesus we discover snippets about Mary’s life. Gabriel’s unbelievable message, the Holy Spirit coming upon her, the escape to Egypt, the Passover pilgrimage to Jerusalem, seeing Jesus teach, going to the foot of the Cross, and seeing the Risen Christ, all of these were moments of reverent devotion and faithful action. Often though we do not think of Mary’s everyday speech. Sure, we recall fondly, as Daniels did, the Magnificat. But, what about her everyday speaking? We do not hear a lot of that in the Gospel accounts—save for John’s.

At Jesus’ first miracle, at the wedding feast in Cana, Mary’s says something so mundane that we might easily forget it. Once the wine ran out Mary told Jesus such. When Jesus confided in his mother that he was not ready—that it was not yet his hour—Mary turned to the servants. And said words not just of a loving mother, but of one who points us in the direction of following Jesus: “Do whatever he tells you.”

All of us who follow Jesus are called to mix together the great virtues exemplified in the community of St. Andrew’s—reverent devotion and faithful action. We are called to reverently devote ourselves to prayer and to nourishment in the sacraments. And there we are to listen to Christ just as Brother Jonathan did, and like Mother Mary said we are to do whatever Christ tells us. Amen.

---

[1] The Jon Daniels Story, ed. William J Schneider (Seabury Press, NY, 1967).

The Christ Abides

Hearing Jesus say the word "abide" brings my mind to The Big Lebowski

This coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson has a déjà vu quality about it. We’re nearing (thankfully) the end of the Bread of Life Discourse in John’s account of the Good News of Christ Jesus, but this being the fourth consecutive week about Jesus and bread gives this week’s portion a repetitive, redundant quality. I find myself asking questions to see the spiritual meat in this story about bread. What do we need to hear in these words about the life of Jesus of Nazareth that impact us today? Why is this passage found in our Holy Scriptures? Maybe a helpful way of answering these questions stems from looking for what stands out in this passage.

One word caught the ear of my heart in today’s reading of the text. That word? Abide.

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” (John 6:56 italics added). If Jesus spoke on a metaphorical level when he talked about eating him, then we safely assert that Jesus did not mean that we literally live inside of him, nor does he live inside of us. This is not the plot of Alien 3 unfolding. Of course, that word abide conjures up another cult classic movie.

The Big Lebowski focuses upon the increasingly extraordinary events unfolding in the life of Jeffrey “the Dude” Lebowski. By no stretch of the imagination are the Dude’s actions virtuous—save for his penchant for justice regarding a rug and trying to help out a lady friend now and again. Regardless, the great Sam Elliott who played “the Stranger” ends the film by breaking the fourth wall, turning to the camera, and saying: “The Dude abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there. The Dude. Takin' 'er easy for all us sinners.” Were that line not said in the deep, unmistakable voice of Sam Elliott I probably would not remember the dude abiding and taking her easy for all us sinners, but I do. And, while the Dude’s character runs crosswise of who Christ was and is, still a connection persists in my mind.

Christ does abide—not literally inside of us—but, in a way that is more real than anything else. Christ Jesus continues within us. In our hearts, our minds, our souls, and our collective being Jesus the Christ lives. We mystically connect with the one who lives on for us all sinners. We do this when we participate in Holy Communion. There we discover Christ dwelling in us both more clearly and more opaquely than at other times. As we put back together the Body of Christ, re-membering Jesus as we gather together as Christ’s Body here and now, we come in contact with the Truth that exists always: we are made in God’s image, house Christ within us, and are filled with God’s Spirit. What happens in Communion is always happening.

This truth so often evade our conscious knowing—like sand slipping between our fingertips. So, we must rely upon a deeper knowing to experience the reality of God dwelling within us. This week, slow down. Give yourself permission—even in the busy-ness of a new academic year—to stop. Maybe this means you will have to wake up early, sneak off during a lunch break, or stay up a little later to find some moments of quiet away from screens and other distractions. Whenever it is, allow yourself time to be still and become aware of the presence of Christ that abides in you. There’s nothing that you have to do to achieve this presence. That Divine light always shines in us all. Once you realize this truth stay there for a few moments. Like sitting together with an old friend who is completely fine talking and just as fine with silence be present with God. These moments of abiding with God are profound enough; however, once you make this realization allow this truth to pervade not only quiet moments, but your entire life. Christ dwells in you and we can dwell in him as we bring this truth to bear at all times and in all places.

Christ abides infinitely, I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowing that Christ is out there and in here too, Christ abiding within all us sinners.

Do You Believe?

If this is how you have heard Christians talk about belief, please read this.

This sermon was preached at St. John's Church, Decatur, AL on the 12th Sunday after Pentecost. The readings that inspired this message were the following: 
2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51

A few times when my family walked through Southside Birmingham, near the church of my childhood and youth, something disconcerting happened. Like so many other Southern towns there were sign-wavers there. The type of Christians that would yell things aggressively at passers-by. “If you died tonight, where would you go? Heaven or Hell?!!!” Occasionally the prostylizer would act more cordially wondering, “Has your soul been saved?” or my favorite, “Do you believe?”

At the time I was not quick-witted enough to answer with any bit of snark or sarcasm. Now though as I have seen the damage that this fear-based version of Christianity is causing the world I might respond in another way. If asked “Do you believe?” I might just answer by quoting a sign from my grandfather’s kitchen. “A man’s got to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another drink.”

With all joking aside, I think the yelling of Christians on bullhorns has caused a great epidemic in our society. Or, maybe their yelling is merely a symptom of larger disease. Belief has become such an empty word that many wonder, “Does it mean anything at all?” For many of our friends in other parts of the Church belief simply means to give ascent to something—to check off a certain list of criteria about God and ourselves. For many believing means to think the way others do, the way the pastor says to think, or to think the right way as to avoid Hell. Sure, this is what believing means to some, but how did Jesus use that word? What did Jesus mean when he said that believing leads to eternal life?

This morning we heard the continuation of a larger story from John’s Gospel account. The “Bread of Life Discourse” as some refer to it. And, in it Jesus described himself as the Bread of Life and the Bread of Heaven—using the Hebrew story of the manna from heaven to elaborate on what he came to do in the world. When Jesus said, “I am the bread of life” this was the first “I Am” statement in this Gospel account. He would later say I am the Light of the World; the Gate; the Good Shepherd; the Resurrection and the Life; the Way, the Truth, and the Life; and the Vine. But if we are to walk into eternity with Jesus, do we have to believe that Jesus was literally saying what he meant? Was Jesus really bread or a vine?

You may be shocked to hear this, but when we go to the altar rail we are not participating in cannibalism. Jesus spoke in expansive language with many layers. When we meet him in Communion there is more happening than we will ever know or we can even imagine. And so, often we miss parts of what’s going on there.

When we come together as a community we sometimes say that we are re-membering, as in putting back together, the Body of Christ. We are constituting the Body of Christ right now. And, at the same time the words that we hear as we stretch out our hands at the altar rail are “The Body of Christ.” The Body of Christ is meeting the Body of Christ during Communion. Talk about “You are what you eat!” There’s even more though to this whole believing thing.

Foster sometimes asks me what my favorite hymn is. There’s too many for me to narrow it down, so I change constantly. Usually whatever I say he scoffs at it. Today though it might just be “The Church’s One Foundation.” The last stanza refers to the sort of strange Body of Christ meeting Body of Christ nature that is happening during Communion. “Yet she [the Church] on earth hath union with God the Three in One, and mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won; O happy ones and holy! Lord give us grace that we, like them, the meek and lowly, on high may dwell with thee.” I can’t help but get misty eyed when I sing those words, for I know and we know that there are those who have joined the great cloud of witnesses who still commune with us. But, is that what Jesus meant by believing and entering into eternal life? Do we just think that we will float around invisible during Communion? Sounds scary.

And, if we are not careful we will let all the fear from other parts of society and the Church soak into us too. We somehow miss Jesus saying, “I will raise them up on the last day,” and focus instead on who the Father is calling to dwell with him. Is it me? Do I get to be part of the exclusive club? What if I believe in the wrong way? We worry about what Jesus said when he talked about belief, but what he meant was not doing a certain set of things or thinking a certain way. Jesus pointed to the non-permanent nature of the manna in the wilderness to drive home the truth of believing.

To believe—to really eat the bread of life so to speak, to be transformed by what happens in mystic sweet communion—to believe is to trust in God. To give over our lives to the Creator of the Universe. See manna was not the problem. The trouble was that those who were in the desert with Moses did not trust God. They grumbled. They pleaded for more than just the bread that was keeping them alive. And, sadly we can do the same thing in our own lives.

When problems arise, we doubt. And that is okay because God still believes in us, even when we don’t believe in God. But, when we do not really know that God has us, that God is with us, that God is holding us up we tend to turn our religion into a weapon. When we start to disconnect from God we wield Christianity as a sword to beat disbelief or the unbelievers away. This is not what Jesus was calling us into when he spoke of believing. This is not what leads to eternal life.

Jesus showed us a way that was different. He was not talking about thinking a certain way so we can eat bread that would never get moldy. No, he was showing us the way through which we might trust God completely. Jesus showed us the way to forever, to eternity. It is not through accenting to what a fear-filled preacher says so that you can think that your group is better than others. Instead, we are called into a radical practice of trusting that God’s love for us and for all is infinite. It never dies. It never fades. It is eternal. In truth, Jesus showed us that God’s love has the power to even defeat death.

We are called to trust God. That is believing. When we trust in God as Jesus showed us we realize that we are part of the house of God dwelling there now and forever. Do you believe?

Aftermath

Sometimes we hear the thunder, but don't see the lightning.

This sermon was preached at St. John's Church, Decatur, AL during the Wednesday Healing Eucharist. The texts for the (transferred) Feast of the Transfiguration of Our Lord are the following: 

Exodus 34:29-35

2 Peter 1:13-21

Luke 9:28-36

Psalm 99 or 99:5-9 

Sometimes we miss it. That thing that came before. We only hear the thunder, but we did not catch a glimpse of the lightning. Only the mess remains from the dog or the kids, but what really happened here? What came before the aftermath? In our life-long journeys with God this can also be true.

We find ourselves focused upon the results of our life. Think about it. We wonder how well did we do? Did we get the job? How much did we earn last year? Are we raising our kids right? Did they turn out okay—are they making money and raising their children right? What car do I drive? What neighborhood do I live in? Life though does not merely happen in the results.

It is not simply in the thunder, it’s in the lightning too. It’s not only the results, but the process that led to it. So, when we recall the Good News of Christ Jesus that we heard today, we cannot simply celebrate the (transferred Feast of the) Transfiguration, but we must wonder what came before it. Why did this happen? And, why did it happen here?

We might expect Peter, James, and John to follow Jesus up a high mountain at the beginning of his ministry. I mean isn’t that a perfect way to enter into the competitive 1^st Century religious market in this backwater part of the Roman Empire? Jesus’ initial offering ought to start with a bang—a big pyrotechnical smoke show with a voice shouting down from heaven—right? Well, that’s not where we are. In fact, according to the logic of our world, the Transfiguration might just come at the oddest time possible in Jesus’ ministry.

In Luke’s telling of the story, Jesus fed the Five Thousand, then asked his followers who he was—to which Peter replied, “The Messiah of God.” And, right before today’s story Jesus explained what it meant to be the Son of Man. In this explanation—the lightning to the Transfiguration’s thunder—Jesus told his disciples that he had to undergo suffering at the hands of the powerful, rejection by those closest to him, and death by means of the systematic structures of the day.

In this account of the Good News, we do not hear the disciples’ response to this difficult, no-good, very bad news. Still, we can project that this would have been devastating. Certainly this was not the time for Jesus to reveal through a dramatic journey up a mountain his divine identity. Well, actually it was.

In all the synoptic Gospel accounts Jesus told of his suffering right before he traveled up the mountain to be transfigured. Why would God choose to reveal such glory in the aftermath of the statement that Jesus had to suffer, be rejected, and die? Well, because God’s way is not our way. The logic we apply to this world is that if something bad happens to someone then they must have deserved it. This though is not what we experience in the life of Christ.

Christ exemplifies for us a different way. If we are to walk after him we must know that God glorifies not those who will cause suffering to get ahead, reject even their closest friends, and do anything necessary to get ahead. No, Christ reveals God’s way is different. His way calls us to know that God’s glory looks different.

The Transfiguration is not a standalone event. God showed Peter, James, and John that Jesus was God’s Chosen Son not because of Christ’s power, but rather because of his letting go of power; his willingness to endure even the pain that was to come. Jesus’ reveling that he must endure suffering, rejection, and death was the precursor for the mountaintop revelation. This is the way that we too are called to walk.

Our lives are not simply about the huge spiritual revelations that happen amongst the clouds. We are called also into the suffering, rejection, and death of Jesus, who endured those atrocities to point us towards the way of limitless love. In our lives we are called to stand up to the powerful who are focused solely on themselves. For us to walk onto the mountain hearing the true identity of the one we follow we also must follow him into suffering, rejection, and death.

Just Another Day

Happy Birthday Teddy... It's Just Another Day, or is it?

Today my family is celebrating my son Teddy’s first birthday. It’s a lovely day! We will feed him his favorite foods of almond butter and guacamole for dinner—yes, we are aware of how pretentious and hippie-ish those foods are! We will let Teddy open and play with presents throughout today. And, we will even stretch the celebration out as he got to see family and godparents last week and will see his other godparents this weekend. But, as my former boss liked to say, “It’s just another day.” So is the nature of our lives.

When I was in seminary, Brother Curtis Almquist SSJE came to speak to us. He spoke with such self-evident wisdom that afterward I felt like in one night I had gone through 365 days of one of the flip calendars with bits of brilliance on each day. Something from that night in particular stands out to this day. Brother Curtis said we must hold two truths one in each hand. In one hand remember that for you the universe was made. And, in the other hand know that you are dust and to dust you shall return. I have loved wrestling with these contrasting principles since that night—and today especially these words come back to me. They also are connected to the truth that Jesus shared in thiscoming Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

Jesus responded to the religious leaders of his day by reminding them of their collective ancestors. In the midst of talking about himself as the Bread of Life Jesus said, “Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died.” As Tim Callahan, our Director of Youth Ministries said in today’s staff meeting, these are harsh words from Jesus. They are direct. Even though God provided abundantly for those wandering in the wilderness that physical food was not what believing in God was all about. It was not what God yearned for in God's people.

(As a particularly important aside, this is not about the Israelites "Jewishness." That is not why they died. Remember Jesus was a faithful Jewish person. The trouble was that in the wilderness those People of God were constantly grumbling to God, they missed the food that lasted beyond the next time they were hungry. And, we too often make this mistake in our own day. We can be too worried about our physical needs to comprehend our spiritual needs.)

We, like the people in the wilderness long ago, like the people of Jesus’ day, and like those people since then, must be fed by more than just physical food. For we are dust and to dust we shall return. Even my precious baby boy will one day die. I weep just thinking about that truth. Still, it is the truth. Our physical bodies will give out, our minds will become feeble, and yet there is more to the story.

Jesus told those who had ears to hear that he was the bread that came down from heaven. Those who believe have eternal life. If we consume the bread of life, then we will live forever. Anyone and everyone; you, Teddy, and me can rejoice in the truth that for each of us the universe was made. Even more joyfully we remember that God sent Jesus to show us the way of love. There’s nothing—not even death—that can separate us from God’s love and light and life!

Sometimes it is difficult to allow more than one truth to dwell within us. Sure, today is special because I get to celebrate Teddy and remember what a blessing and gift he is from God and at the same time I get to see how fragile life is. I am reminded both of our feeble nature and the fire of God’s Spirit that always burns within each of us. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return and for you the universe was made. Hold both of these truths within you. Today is special, and it is just another day.

Our Trouble with the Divine

On Sunday we will continue working our way through the “Bread of Life Discourse” from the 6^th Chapter of John. Having had two weeks off from preaching in a pulpit—my family had to deal with me sermonizing them on the beach last week—I am excited to jump into the middle of this five week block. During my first reading of this coming Sunday's Gospel lesson my eyes fall upon the conflict between Jesus and some Jewish leaders. 

The Common English Bible translates it this way: “The Jewish opposition grumbled about him because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven.’ They asked, ‘Isn’t this Jesus, Joseph’s son, whose mother and father we know? How can he now say, “I have come down from heaven”?’” (John 6:41-42). These words stand out because the trouble that the Jewish elite have with Jesus we all have with the Divine, or rather with people who say that they are from God.

Followers of Jesus today are quite certain that he came down from heaven, but in his day claiming that he had come from heaven was blasphemous and reason for not just alarm but persecution. Today we still feel this way, at least in parts of the Church. If someone claims that they are a messenger of God or have heard God speaking we tell them to seek professional help, run them out of town, or write them off. Why is this?

Well, we in the Church tend to differentiate between Christ Jesus and us. Clearly in his life, death, and resurrection we see as the centurion did that “Truly [Jesus] was God’s Son” (Mark 15:39). Jesus showed in his actions, his healings, his teaching, his prayerfulness, his faithfulness, and his love that he had come down from heaven. However, we are not so quick to connect ourselves or others with the Divine. We do not recognize that while we are different from Jesus we are nonetheless children of God.

All of us are made in God’s image. All of us are grafted into the Body of Christ. All of us are adopted through Christ into the household of God. And yet, whenever someone talks about a pre-birth experience with God or an encounter with the Divine we, in the Episcopal Church, shut them up. I get it we love good theology and orthodox religion, but if we are not willing to share how we are part of God’s family, enmeshed in God’s limitless love, and filled with God’s Holy Spirit what are we doing? How are we continuing to share the Good News of Christ Jesus not only according to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but also the Good News according to us?

To follow Jesus is not only about worshipping God on Sunday mornings as we join together at church. No, following Jesus calls us into remember something very important on a daily basis. Those of us who eat the Bread of Life, the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven, are in that moment remembering that we are part of God’s household. But, we are called to always re-member the Body of Christ and to know that we are God's children always. Every day we are challenged to live into the truth that we are Christ’s friends and through him fellow children of the Divine.

We do not like when people claim that they are of a higher position than we think that they are. We want them to prove it first, but the truth is that all of us are children of God by no effort of our own. All of us are members of God’s household. All of us are called to live into the limitless love that Christ showed us. Don't be troubled with the Divine. Remember that you are one of God's own children!