Knit Together

Sometimes during sermon prep, I overlook the collect. If you are unfamiliar with the term, a collect is a prayer said at the beginning of a Holy Eucharist service with the purpose of drawing together or collecting the concerns of the people, the liturgical flavor of the season, and the themes of the readings. When writing a sermon on a given week, or when writing a blog about the upcoming Sunday’s liturgically assigned readings, I often skip right to the Gospel lesson—only later do I check out the First Lesson, Psalm, and Second Lesson. I almost never even consider the collect as a part of sermon prep, but this week is different.

Many churches throughout mainline Protestant Christianity will celebrate All Saints’ Sunday this week. (The actual celebration is on Friday, November 1st, but the Episcopal Church also encourages celebrating this occasion on the following Sunday.) The collect for All Saints’ Day captivates my attention and my imagination because of the descriptive language associated with God, the important role of all the saints, and the aim (or telos) of us as followers of Christ. Before going any further though, here’s the collect in its entirety:

Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen. (The Book of Common Prayer, 245).

Taking a look at the descriptive language in this prayer, we discover God’s intimate role in the lives of the saints. After the opening address, “Almighty God,” which provides a powerful portrayal of the Divine, the collect turns to a much softer active verb to depict God’s role in tying the saints together. “You have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship…” (italics added for emphasis), the collect says. Here I imagine the Thursday knitting group, which meets here at All Saints, as they make prayer shawls that will be taken to sick babies, worried parents, and aging parishioners alike. God as Creator is not bringing us, the saints, together via thunderbolt and lightening (very, very frightening), but instead through calmly weaving us into a pattern beyond our comprehension. What’s the pattern? Our Almighty Knitter binds us together such that we actually become the Body of Christ. To borrow one of my liturgy professor’s favorite questions, “Isn’t that RAD?!”

This form that God weaves us into has the shape of the Mystical Body of Christ, but we see this pattern not only in the life of Jesus of Nazareth, but also in the lives of all the saints. Our collect does us a disservice when it says, “Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living.” Why is this a disservice? Well, when we describe the saints as blessed and when we say that they live godly and virtuous lives we mistakenly discount our own experiences as saints.

Recently I’ve been on a tear trying to hear as many parishioners’ stories as I can. Using Mary Parmer’s Invite Welcome Connect model as inspiration, I’ve been asking people what brought them to God or the Church, or when they have felt welcomed or like they belong (either in the Church or elsewhere). The powerful responses in the form of life-altering stories help me to see the shape of Jesus’ life and the shape of the Saints’ lives in the lives of everyday, ordinary people. I believe this is true precisely because the capital S Saints “are just folk like me” and you, to borrow a line from Lesbia Scott’s famous hymn. Virtuous and godly living then is not something that was only aspired to by people who lived a long time ago or those who currently reside in a hermitage, but rather as we become students or disciples of Jesus, we learn that we too can walk this way (talk this way) of love. We too are called to journey with Christ, Saints, and saints into abundant life, what we sometimes call the life eternal.

Finally, the collect provides us who pray these words with an aim for our lives. Virtuous living simply put is rightly aimed living. The way we find our aim is by living together in community, studying Holy Scripture and other texts, worshipping God by participating in Holy Sacraments and sacramental rites, and by allowing God’s grace to penetrate even into the most broken parts of our existence. When we take part in communities that work, pray, study, eat, and worship together, then one beautiful outgrowth we receive is values by which we can live our best life (a phrase that has seeped into the parlance of social media).

Within the All Saints (Sun)Day collect we discover that the aim of us the pray-er is to be knit into the Mystical Body of Christ (full stop). The mechanism through which this happens is God’s grace—God unconditionally loving us first. And, our response is to follow the pattern of the Saints who followed the pattern of Jesus the Christ. We follow this pattern best by becoming part of a community with virtues that align with the life of Christ and the lives of the Saints (and the saints). The by-products of this type of living, according to the collect, are ineffable joys and a full life prepared by God. (These joys by the way are unexplainable happiness, not something else, like was thought on an episode of How I Met Your Mother). So, you may be wondering though, what’s the catch?

It’s easy to read this collect and feel a bit inspired. Still, there’s the reality that, as the saying goes, the devil is in the details. So, how do we get this life with indescribable happiness? How do we become like the Saints? How do we model our lives in the form of Christ? How? Well, I do not know for sure, but I do know two things. First, the good news is that God loves us first. There’s no way to opt out of God loving us. God's love is unconditional, all-encompassing, limitless, timeless, and beyond measure. Second, our response is to do to God and neighbor exactly what God does to us—love without limit. This second part can be tough though, and this is where the saints come into the picture.

The Saints of the Church and the saints in your church are folk just like you and me. And, they didn’t always get loving God and neighbor right. What matters is that we continue to practice. When we mess up we turn back to God and reconcile (when possible) with our neighbor. But, just because we mess up it doesn’t mean we stop loving. For God who loves us completely inspires us through the lives of each other and on All Saints Sunday we are reminded that each one of us is a saint to someone else. So, don’t ever give up. Don’t ever stop receiving and giving the love of God because our Almighty Knitter is always weaving us together through the fabric of Christ’s self-giving love.

Bad News Into Good: The Shape of the Gospel

As Frederick Buechner once wrote, "The Gospel is bad news before it is good news." This is good news to us who see bad news everywhere we look these days.

© Seth Olson 2019

October 13, 2019—The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 23 (Gospel Reflection Track)

2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c
Psalm 111
2 Timothy 2:8-15
Luke 17:11-19

There are some times when the lector finishes reading a particularly difficult text, and in response to hearing, “The Word of the Lord,” we all look around at each other before shrugging and saying, “Thanks be to God?” And there are even some weeks when we hear a tough Gospel lesson and we have a hard time saying, “Praise to you, Lord Christ,” as the customary response. Now, you probably already know this, but gospel literally means good news. But, what you may not know is that the Gospel is bad news before it is good. Don’t believe me? Stick with me for a bit.

One of my favorite writers is Frederick Buechner. He once wrote, “The Gospel is bad news before it is good news. It is the news that [humans are sinners], to use the old word, that [we are] evil in the imagination of [our hearts], that when [we look] in the mirror all in a lather what [we see] is at least eight parts chicken, phony, slob. That is the tragedy.” Sounds pretty rough, but this is only the beginning.

The gospel is tragedy first precisely because we forget who we are and whose we are. We are God’s children and we belong to God. We come to earth knowing this deep truth within our souls. When we gaze upon newborns we remember this clearly, but somewhere along the way we lose track of the truth. This is the bad news before the good news. But, there is good news.

In today’s Epistle—when Paul was writing to his protégé Timothy—we hear the writer speak of his gospel. “My good news,” Paul wrote. What was this good news? Simply put, though Jesus died—tragedy—he was the Messiah, was raised from the dead, and brought those who believe in him with him—good news! We will return to this shape in a moment.

To Paul though, this message was worth undergoing suffering. Sometimes Paul comes off sounding outlandish or braggadocios, but here he was spot on. He was willing to be beaten and imprisoned, so that he could share good news. He underwent the bad news before ultimately experiencing the good. There’s that shape again.

Sometimes though we cannot help but get wrapped up in bad news. There is no shortage of it today in the world and in our lives. God's own creation cries out for greater care; famine, oppression, human trafficking, violence, and disease indicate a need for greater care of our neighbors; and in our own lives stress, anxiety, busyness, illness, and broken relationships point to the yearning within us to better care for ourselves. Bad news all around, right?

How do we respond? One way to respond is to get stuck in the tragedy, or worse yet to inflict tragedy upon others. Immersed in the bad news we counter what others do to us with what is called complimentary behavior—like for like. The Old Testament way of saying this is “an eye for an eye.” Or, in the positive, “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.”

We even get a glimpse of this way in Paul’s letter to Timothy. Paul wrote, “If we deny him, he will also deny us.” If we are loyal, then that’s what we’ll get in return—a tooth for a tooth, denial for denial. Except that is not all there is. This is only the first act. This is merely the set up—the tragedy before the turn, for this letter more fully says: “If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he will also deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself.” This opens up another way of viewing everything: death doesn’t lead to death, but to life. Endurance leads to reigning with God. Even denial gets redemption because God cannot deny God’s self. God will always be faithful. Now we see coming into focus the shape of the ultimate Good News!

Even if we falter. Even if we fail. Even when we are unfaithful, when we cannot be trusted, God will always remain faithful and trustworthy and true. This is the good news that comes in the wake of any and all bad news. And Paul truly was one who was acquainted with bad news. He knew suffering, imprisonment, betrayal, torture, and death. He willingly experienced bad news before tasting the good news. He knew the shape of the Gospel precisely because he had lived it.

Now Paul's phrase “my good news” sparked a deep wondering in my soul. Often in the Church we will talk about our favorite Gospel. Do you like Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John? I don't want burst your bubble, but there is only one Gospel—the Good News of Christ Jesus. Even knowing that there is simply THE Good News, sometimes we restrict it to the past. We mistakenly believe that God’s Good News happened 2,000 years ago half-way around the world, and four men wrote about it, and that’s it. Since then, the good news dried up, God went into hiding, and every once in a while we get a mysteriously communication as God watches from on high—like the outline of Jesus’ face in a piece of toast. But, the truth is the good news of Christ Jesus never stopped. And, it never will.

Each one of us is called to be a gospel writer. I am called to share the good news. You are called to share the good news. We are called to share the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ according to All Saints. This good news is diverse and unique according to each one of our voices, and yet it shares some similarities. Each one of us experiences our own Good Fridays before grace bursts in on Easter Morning. We all go to the cross on Calvary before seeing the tomb is empty. Like Buechner wrote, it is bad news before it is good news. We, like Paul, know this shape, the shape of the Gospel because it’s the shape of our lives. And, if we look around we start to see this pattern everywhere, like in today’s reading from Luke.

Seeing the arc of this leper’s life it takes the same shape as bad news looping towards good. This leper was an outcast because of his disease, and Jesus’ disciples who practiced Judaism would have looked down upon him doubly because he was a Samaritan. Samaritans had a different worldview and a different holy place, which led to conflict and even violence between the two peoples. For a Samaritan to be held up as an example for the disciples would have been challenging to say the least, but here we find this Samaritan leper’s life take the very shape of the Good News of Christ Jesus.

The leper was ostracized, ridiculed, and isolated with other lepers because of his disease—bad news. But then, he encountered Jesus. This interaction disrupted the leper’s life. He along with others asked for mercy from God. Jesus shared God’s healing with him. And, he was cured—good news! That’s it then, the leper’s life took the shape of the gospel… but that’s not it. That’s not all!

As the once-diseased man began to walk away, he observed he was cured, he turned back to God, he praised God, worshiped God by prostrating himself at Jesus’ feet, and he thanked God. We know the shape of the Gospel—tragedy gracefully swooping towards good news. But the one-time leper shows us the shape of a life impacted by good news: asking for mercy, observing God’s grace, turning back to God, praising and worshiping God, and giving thanks to God. The passage ends with some powerful words that put an exclamation point on this response to the Gospel.

Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well.” But, really he told the man, “Your faith has made you whole.” This faith, this trusting in God, allows us to walk from the bad news into the Good News of Christ with confidence that no matter what happens Jesus is walking with us. This is not just any good news it is our good news. And, it is worth sharing!

We, at All Saints, are in the midst of sharing our good news in many different ways. Last week we started a season of Shining Our Light. Today we will hear more stories of how we are revealing God’s transforming love in the world. What is this season, this time of stewardship all about? It’s about seeing the shape of the Gospel as the shape of our lives. It’s about responding to the good news in our lives and in this community with gratitude, by turning to God, and worshiping God.

God gives us everything. God shapes our lives such that through Christ all bad news bends forever towards good news. And as we walk through this life in which we see in the shape of the Gospel in multitudinous ways, may we respond like the Samaritan leper. As the light of Christ shines in our lives illuminating God’s mercy manifest within us, we are called to turn to God by praising, worshiping, and giving thanks for all the blessings we receive. What is the Good News according to All Saints? It is that Christ’s love transforms every bit of bad news into good news. And for that, thanks be to God.

Sermon Ideas: The Grateful Leper and Faith Making Us Whole

This week we get a reprieve—at least that’s what it feels like. In churches that use the Revised Common Lectionary, we’ve been on a slog of a journey since Sunday, June 29th when we heard that Jesus turned his face towards Jerusalem. Each week in our readings, Jesus has elevated the stakes such that we must choose between following Jesus and other good things such as family, work, and even our lives. This coming Sunday’s text (Luke 17:11-19) though, provides us a break from the explosive rhetoric of the last few months, or does it?

While the language Jesus employed in this pericope (fancy word for section of the Bible) appears less disruptive than recent ones on fiery division, hating our families, and being worthless, the underlying message remains nonetheless challenging to our way of life. The story of the ten lepers and the one grateful one gives us fodder not only for stewardship season (already underway in many parishes), but also living transformed lives of gratitude. Let us take a closer look at the story before exploring a few intriguing jumping off points for a preacher given the task of interpreting this Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

The text opens with Jesus furthering his journey toward Jerusalem; however, the setting differs from the last few stories, as we enter the region between Samaria and Galilee. Jesus traveled south through this area on his path to the Holy City. Samaritan and Jewish people shared a bitter relationship with differing world views, especially when it came to the location of a primary holy place—the Samaritans believed it was Mount Gerizim and the Jewish people believed it was the Temple in Jerusalem. While the reality for any Galilean traveling to Jerusalem meant that she or he would have to enter Samaritan territory, friendly interactions between the two peoples were seemingly not a given—despite how the Parable of the Good Samaritan clouds our thinking. Still Jesus interacted and even healed ten lepers, with at least one of them being Samaritan.

In this story, Jesus entered an unnamed Samaritan village, and ten lepers approached him. The unclean people kept their distance though, as they cried out to Jesus, calling him master and pleading that he have mercy upon them. Leaving aside, at least for this blog post, the underlying belief that God causes things like leprosy (hence the “Master have mercy upon us!”), what stands out as striking is that these lepers in Samaria would believe that a Jewish man could provide healing for them. A friend told me this would be like an evangelical Christian today asking an Islamic State extremist to heal him from an embarrassing rash. Maybe it’s not that dramatic, but nevertheless Jesus’ predicated his mission upon breaking down extreme barriers—that and healing.

In this text, Jesus performed a gradual healing by distance for these ten lepers. When Jesus saw them—an odd sounding phrase in the text—he did have mercy upon them, and told them to go show themselves to a priest. Why? Well, once they were seen without leprosy they would have been incorporated back as full members of society. They were wandering out of the bounds of normal society, as this roving gang of lepers precisely because they were unwelcome with everyone else. The story could have just as easily ended with the lepers walking off into the proverbial sunset. I wonder if it would have even been recorded if that were the case—there are plenty of glossed over healing stories throughout the Gospel accounts. Fortunately for us, this is not where the story ended.

One of the lepers did not walk into the horizon, but instead realized the source of his healing. Part of me cannot blame the nine lepers who wanted to get back to being a full member of society. They felt compelled to simply ask the priest to pronounce them clean, so they could get back to living life. Still this one leper upon discovering he was healed, turned back to thank Jesus. The leper cried with a loud voice praising God, prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet, and he thanked him. The simplicity and the magnitude of the man’s thankfulness appears striking. Also striking is Luke’s detail, “And he was a Samaritan,” as though the reader would expect this from a Jewish person, but not one of “those people.” How did Jesus respond?

As usual, Jesus did not respond in a straightforward manner. Instead, he questioned, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then, as if it were a tiny consolation, Jesus uttered the final words from this passage, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” This last interchange may leave us scratching our heads, so as we turn to how a preacher might approach this story, let us begin with this odd ending.

The final words from this passage were not actually, “your faith has made you well.” Rather, Jesus said, your faith has made you whole. Here Jesus provided one of the clearest connections we have in all of Holy Scripture between observing God’s power at work in the world, being thankful, and trusting God. This Samaritan leper, an outsider in multiple ways, saw how God’s healing was happening within him. Then, he turned around (fancy Church word: repented). As he did he gave thanks to God, the source of his (and all) healing. This trust in and gratitude for God was what made him whole according to Jesus. Particularly in stewardship season when we speak about the power of practicing gratitude this would be a great jumping off point for a sermon.

Another helpful focus point emerges from the way Jesus both incorporates and holds at a distance those who are unclean and of a different background. On a personal level, I would have loved to see Jesus rush toward the lepers playing down that one or more of them was a Samaritan and all of them were ritually unclean; however, that was not the case. If Christ is the universal healing presence that is meant to draw the entire world to him—at least in John’s Gospel account—then, why would he be held up by something as relatively minuscule as leprosy or a different background? Why? I cannot tell for sure, but what is worth exploring is the tension between Jesus the Jewish human and Christ the cosmic redeemer who are both fully present in Christ Jesus.

A final layer worth the preacher’s exploration is the continued metaphorical and literal meanings of journey here in the latter part of Luke. Jesus was on a journey with something to accomplish, and yet he took the time to stop. The ten lepers were on journey and yet one of them took the time to stop. Jesus did not have to pause to help the lepers and the one leper did not have to pause to say thank you. How often does our current way of living life leave us feeling completely hurried such that we do not take time to stop, be a part of something miraculous, experience God’s healing, say thank you, and praise God? A powerful sermon might focus on the gift of upended journeys.

These are just three ways to go about preaching this wonderful gift of a text. I pray God will speak through all those who are interpreting this passage for our congregations on Sunday. As my rector Glenda Curry often prays, “May God’s Word only be spoken, may God’s Word only be heard.” Amen.