New Names

We all come from the same family tree, as we are all God's children. Who will you become as you embrace this truth? Who is God transforming you to be?

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

Romans 4:13-25

Mark 8:31-38

Psalm 22:22-30

 

©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

“Father Abraham had many sons (and daughters too!)/

And many sons had Father Abraham/

See I am one of them and so are you (so are you!)/

So, let’s all praise the Lord! (Right arm)/”

 

Nobody wants to jump up and join me? Do you know this beloved camp song? For several years of my life, I thought this diddy was about Father Abraham… Lincoln. I could not comprehend why we were singing about the 16^th President of the United States of America, even if he had four sons. When eventually I learned that we were singing about the Biblical Forefather Abraham I kept loving the song, but I still could not quite get why we were singing about him as having many sons (and daughters too!). 

 

Eventually, as I learned more about the Book of Genesis everything clicked! I picked up that through his relationship with his servant Hagar, Abraham – who was Abram at the time – fathered Ishmael who was the forbearer of the Muslim Faith. Abram was only 86 years young at the time. Then, through an even more miraculous set of events, Abram and Sarai were promised a son, Isaac, who would be the forbearer of the Jewish, and eventually the Christian Faith. This is more amazing because Abram was 99 and Sarai 90!

 

God spoke, “I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.” To hear at almost one hundred that he would have a child with his wife was at least surprising, but then to imagine that his descendants would be exceedingly numerous had to be shocking if not heart-attack-inducing. I’ll be forty later this year, and I love our younger child Lucy, but being an older parent is no joke. Maybe this is why when Sarai heard of this news she laughed. Yep, she laughed right in God’s face—or at least God’s messenger’s face. Wouldn’t you? 

 

I think we often do! At least, I do. I cannot see the fullness of how God’s transformational, abundant love will manifest in my life. 

 

God though, made an everlasting covenant with Abram. God promised to be eternally faithful to all the descendants of this man and this woman. Even though, Sarai laughed at first, God’s faithfulness was proved trustworthy and true. Abram and Sarai had lived rich, full lives, but this moment changed everything for Abram and Sarai.

 

God changed who they were as people. Abram became Abraham. Sarai became Sarah. Now I’m not thinking of singing “Father Abraham,” but “I Will Change Your Name!” Yet these changes in name were merely the surface of a deeper transformation within them. It was as though they were no longer free agents. Now, they were recognizing the truth of who they were. They accepted that they were people of God. 

 

Through the centuries the children of Abraham and Sarah waxed and waned in their relationship with the Divine, like a lunar calendar of faithfulness. And, though the intimacy of God never faded, there were ages when God’s People shifted their focus from trust, faith, and relationship to obedience, rituals, and laws. Strangely enough as we mature individually through the life stages, we often find ourselves doing the same thing. 

 

We are made very good in God’s image! As children, we know the purity of God’s love, and yet, as we grow older, we superimpose a system of rules upon ourselves. Essentially, we change from the truth that I am very good made in God’s image to when I perceive that I have done good, then I will deserve God’s love. Maybe we learn this from our culture, families, or experiences. It might even be woven into our nature to set up barriers to overcome, so that we can think we have to do something to finally be worthy to experience God’s favor.

 

Paul knew this about those in the Church of Rome. We heard some of that letter this morning. He expressed: Abraham did not inherit the world because of the sake of law, but because God’s faithfulness. “For the law brings wrath; but where there is no law, neither is there violation.” Instead of setting up laws that will bring wrath upon ourselves, for inevitably we will falter, we are called to trust in the grace of God’s faithfulness. That’s freeing, right?!

 

This leads me to a question: how is your Lent going? Did you give up or take on something? Have you, like me, already missed a day or forgotten what your discipline was at all? 

 

Every year, I learn the same lesson. The Lenten practice I take on is not designed to display how awesome I am as a Christian. Instead, it is meant to help me to remember just how much I rely not on following the rules, but on the grace of God. This grace, God’s favor unearned and undeserved, is promised in the covenant with Abraham and fulfilled in the love of Christ. 

 

Full of this grace, we may find ourselves like Peter ready to call Jesus our Messiah. Right before today’s Gospel lesson, Peter confessed Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah. And yet, like Peter, we might struggle with what this means—what comes next after we profess this belief? Even when we come to the point where we recognize our complete reliance upon God and God’s saving grace, a struggle persists.

 

When we call Christ, Our Lord or Our Savior or Our Messiah, what do we mean? Peter who had grown up hearing the prophetic hope that a warrior king would come to overthrow oppressors—Roman, religious, and otherwise! Jesus, in today’s Gospel pointed to a different mission the Messiah—undergoing suffering and even death. To have faith does not mean relying on God only when it is convenient or beneficial to us. This was the mistake of Peter: He rebuked Jesus for doing the will of God when it meant distress and agony.

 

Before we join in piling on Peter who became a stumbling block—Satan—to others. We would be wise to check out the plank in our own eye. How often do we doubt? Do we not make God in the image we want? Are we not susceptible to creating God in our image instead of the other way around? 

 

For all Peter’s struggles, misconceptions, and failings, in the light of the Resurrection, he eventually got it! God slowly transformed Simon into Peter, the rock on which this Church movement began! Just like God transformed Abram into Abraham and Sarai into Sarah. The question I have for you is who will you become? Who are we to become? God will always be faithful, good, and loving! What’s our response?

 

We have never stopped being God’s people. The promise made unto Abraham—that God will be Our God—continues to this very moment. Think about this very common practice within our Church: When I say, “The Lord be with you,” what is your response? And, also with you. In this moment we are saying, God is Our God and God is here! Sure, it might be a strange way of saying this truth. We probably would not say to one who is standing with her mother, “Your mother be with you,” unless we are wanting to sound like pirates (YARRR!). What we are really saying is your mother is with you and more to the point, God is with you! This is not just part of our service, but the truth of our Faith. 

 

God continues to fulfill the promise of Abraham through the redemption of Christ and the work of the Spirit. God is always with us—faithful, good, and loving! What is our response? You’re made in God’s image and loved unconditionally, so that you may become faithful, good, and loving—not the other way round! That would be to put the cart before the horse. You don’t have to be these things so God will love you—God loves you so that you can be faithful, good, and loving!

 

When we trust in God, we will be transformed! We might even receive a new name. Childless Abram became Father Abraham. Laughing Sarai became Mother Sarah. Simon the stumbling block became Peter the rock on which Jesus founded the Church. Who will you become when you trust in God? Who will we become when we put our faith in God? May we keep walking to the Cross, to the Tomb, and beyond to find out together! Amen.

Holy Baptism: Accepting Your Belovedness

In the waters of Baptism we recognize our belatedness, but God's saving work isn't finished there.

Genesis 9:8-17

Psalm 25:1-9

1 Peter 3:18-22

Mark 1:9-15

 

©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

It doesn’t always happen. A parent of a newborn child asking clergy to visit them in the hospital. So, when I have the chance to offer prayers of thanksgiving for the birth of a child, I am elated. Sometimes in those labor and delivery rooms the commotion stops long enough for me to invite the parents to wade into deeper waters. “Would you like your child to be baptized?” I might ask.

 

On a few such occasions, I have had parents quickly tell me that they want their child baptized as soon as possible. This is usually followed up by the phrase, “In case something happens.” When a parent utters these words, I wonder sometimes aloud, “What do you think is happening in Holy Baptism?” 

 

I wonder that with all of you now, “What do you think is happening in Holy Baptism?” Let that question marinate a minute.

 

Today is the First Sunday in Lent. Now, it’s not the First Sunday of Lent. What’s the distinction? Well, even though we have put away the liturgical A-word for a time, Sundays are always feast days, always! They are the Day of Resurrection. Every Sunday a mini-Easter and Easter is simply a really big Sunday. On this First Sunday in Lent, we discover one of the major purposes of this entire season—we witness one of the big goals of this time when we prepare ourselves for the Paschal Feast of Easter. What is that goal?

 

Holy Baptism! Along with preparing ourselves for Our Lord’s Passion and Resurrection, this Season of Lent has traditionally been a time when we in the Church ready those who are to be baptized most fittingly at the Easter Vigil. In the Early Days of the Church those who followed the Way of Christ were often persecuted. So, preparations for Holy Baptism were rigorous to ensure that someone was not spying on early Christians (meaning: little Christs) to infiltrate and harm or even kill them. Often this Catechism—instruction in the Faith—took three years!

 

That is not my hope at Holy Apostles. However, I do believe it takes years and years, decades and decades, even an entire lifetime to grow into the full stature of Christ. This good work though is begun in what our readings focus on today—Holy Baptism.

So, let’s wonder with our lessons this day that question I asked a moment ago, “What do you think is happening in Holy Baptism?” or more simply, “What does happen in Holy Baptism?”

 

In Mark, Jesus underwent the Baptism of John. He was baptized in the River Jordan. There something mystical and marvelous occurred. A voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved.” Is there an echo in here? We heard these same words last week uttered by an overwhelming cloud during the Transfiguration. Today though, God’s voice bellows from heaven while the Holy Spirit descends like a dove on Jesus. 

 

This was Jesus’ Baptism. In  The Book of Common Prayer though, we attest that there is One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism. So, here it is! This is Holy Baptism. Every other Baptism throughout all time is taking part in this one—each new baptism is not a cheap imitation—it’s the same one. And, though we do not say it explicitly in our Baptism service, just as Jesus heard these words from heaven, you hear these words: You are my beloved. God also added, “With you I am well pleased,” which we did not hear in the Transfiguration. In your Holy Baptism, God is well pleased too. 

 

So, this Holy Baptism—this one Holy Baptism—is a moment when we discover our true identity, in Christ we are God’s beloved. This is not as nervous new parents often think, eternal fire insurance simply offered to prevent us from dying and going to hell. This interpretation of Holy Baptism has caused much harm. God does not intend to utilize scare tactics to intimidate or coerce us into loving God. Holy awe of God, being overwhelmed by Our Creator are likely outcomes of growing ever closer to the Almighty One—still for too long some of our siblings in the Church have utilized a fear of hell into scaring people into their pews.

 

God loves us—God sees us through the lens of Christ, as beloved. Still, Holy Baptism is deathly serious, but not because of what often is attested by turn or burn preachers with bullhorns screeching on the street corner. Our First Lesson from Genesis and our Second Lesson from Peter’s Letter provide us with deeper understanding.

 

Holy Baptism is like the flood. It is like the flood in that we are overwhelmed by it. Not only this, but our old way of being is no more. In Holy Baptism, we undergo death—we die to self—and we are made a new creation in Christ. Baptism then is not simply a cleansing of your sins, it’s not like washing your hands to remove dirt. No, it’s not simply that your iniquities are sprinkled with holy water, it’s that you are not the same person before and after baptism—like creation before and after the flood. 

What happens then in Holy Baptism is transformation, rebirth, and taking part in the Resurrection of Christ! If we say that it is simply to avoid sin or avoid hell, we are making this rite too small. In this sacrament, we are made new, we are in Christ seen as the beloved, and we are recognized as our true selves—children of God. Anything less than this does not express the power and abundance of God’s grace. 

 

When talking about grace though, I am frequently reminded of Frederick Bonhoeffer’s notion of cheap grace. He attests the grace we receive, for example in Holy Baptism, the grace we receive here from God is 100% free. However, this grace will cost us. 

 

We see this immediately in today’s Gospel. Jesus—once baptized and identified as the beloved—is driven out into the wilderness. Did you notice who drove him there? It was the Holy Spirit! What? From within the Divine Community of the Trinity, Jesus was guided into the wilderness and faced temptation. Immediately this overwhelming grace that Jesus received cost him something. He persisted as he rested in his beloved identity—a grace from God.

 

Grace, that is the surprising gift of God’s favor, unearned and undeserved, led Jesus into self-emptying love. Notice it’s not the other way round—God the Father did not wait for Jesus to win his belovedness after avoiding temptation from Satan. Jesus was beloved, then this grace invited him into self-giving love. We most clearly see this sacrificial love at the Cross of Calvary, but it’s here in the wilderness too.

 

Jesus gave away comfort. He gave away convenience. He faced temptation. He slummed it with the beasts. Not because he wanted a fun camping experience or a divine merit badge. This was a way of resting in the belovedness of God and recognizing that in this truth he could face overwhelming challenges.

 

This is what happens in Holy Baptism. We recognize and celebrate our true nature, as God’s beloveds. If you have not been baptized, I invite you to come talk with me. If you are interested in Confirmation—that is confirming what happened in Holy Baptism—a mature commitment to Christ, come talk with me. If you want to reaffirm your Baptismal Vows or be received from another denomination, come talk with me. 

 

In Christ, all of us are seen as God’s Beloveds, and in these rites of initiation and renewal, we recognize and celebrate as the Church what God already sees in us. You do not need to be baptized so as to avoid eternal death, but in Holy Baptism you do die. You die to your old self, you are made a new creation in Christ, you accept your place as God’s beloved, and you receive the abundant grace of God. This grace is free, but will cost you. May we rest in the truth of our belovedness through Christ, may we receive this grace, and may we be ready to give of ourselves to help others know that they too are beloved.

Ashentine’s Day: God Loves You To Death

 

A cheesy picture to let you know that God loves you!

Joel 2:1-2,12-17

Psalm 103 or 103:8-14

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

Matthew 6:1-6,16-21

 

ã2024 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

Happy Valent—wait, that’s not right. My beloved spouse, Kim, first thing this morning told me, “Happy Ashentine’s Day!” This confluence of Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day happened back in 2018 and it will happen again in 2029, but that will be it for this century. So, soak up this strange merger of a day when we say, “I love you,” and a day when the Church reminds us, “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” 

 

All joking aside, there is a connection between these two occasions, and it is love. Although, it is not the type of love that most often gets bantered about today. The world around us—from Hallmark card designers to restaurant staffs to chocolate companies, all of them want us to spend today in a sappy love haze. This isn’t the love that Ash Wednesday is about. 

 

Now there is nothing wrong with romantic love. C.S. Lewis in his wonderful work, The Four Loves, describes this Valentine’s Day-type-of-love utilizing the Greek word eros. Although often derided as merely puppy love, a feelings-based love, or even lust, in its rightful place of a committed relationship, eros lends itself to us understanding something much larger than ourselves. God’s yearning to woo us, to beckon us deeper into a larger love. Go read Song of Solomon if you want a taste of this love.

 

At my household, Valentine’s Day is not only about romantic love, as our older child presented multiple cards to the rest of his family. Lewis would describe this love as storge love, or the love that we share as a family. Desmond Tutu described this by saying, “You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” This love which we share within our family reminds us that God is our Heavenly Father, a loving, divine parent who cares for us as a doting father adores his children. 

 

A third love we see less often displayed on Valentine’s Day Lewis describes as philia, brotherly or sisterly love. If you celebrated Galentine’s Day with your best girl friends or if you are involved in a bromance, this is philia, a fraternal love. In it, we understand a sort of connection that unites us with friends who are more like family, or at least the family of our choosing. When Christ Jesus on the night before his death called his disciples friends, he was expressing philia. He was also leaning into the fourth type of love, which is truly where Ash Wednesday and this preparatory season of Lent leads us. 

 

The fourth love is agape. A love so powerful that it allows one to sacrifice for another. Agape is what all the other loves point towards, and it is the foundation on which all other love emanates, for it is the love God harnessed in Creation. This is the love we experience in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ Jesus! What greater love can one have than this, than to lay down one’s life for another. And, on this penitential day, agape is what we experience all around us. 

 

In Joel, the trumpet blast and the day of darkness are serious. And yet, in God’s agape love the people are spared, as God pours out love upon us as we turn back to be embraced like a prodigal son running into a loving father’s arms. In our Psalm, we discover that God is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness. Compassion means to suffer with us. Although God is infinite, beyond our understanding, in Christ Jesus God comes to be with us, to suffer with us, and to walk alongside us—again, agape love. Paul in his letter preaches agape to those in Corinth—Jesus took on our sin even though he himself was sinless. This is laying down one’s life, this is sacrificial agape love. Finally, in our Gospel lesson we are reminded, that even when God leads us into self-sacrificing love—whether through alms giving, praying, or fasting—we are not doing these things to be seen for our acts of love. Rather, we are loving because our treasure is not praise from others, but the glorification of God who is the source of all love.

 

In just a few moments, I’ll invite you to the observance of a holy Lent. I’ll ask God’s blessing on these ashes. And, I’ll pronounce some difficult words: “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” Even here in this sobering realization that we are mortal, that we are fleeting, that we are finite, even here agape persists. It is good and right for us to recognize our human nature, our sinful disposition, and our need for reconciliation. This is what we do on this day. 

 

And yet, in the same place where we receive an ashen cross, we also received a cross of chrism, holy oil during Holy Baptism. There in that initiation into the Faith—in that moment when we are adopted into God’s family, joining Jesus our friend and brother—there we hear, “You are marked as Christ’s own forever.”

 

Today is a rare day—both Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday. What binds these unlikely days together? Love! And, all good, healthy love points to the all-encompassing agape of God. Happy Ashentine’s Day—God loves you to death, and beyond! 

Embracing Mortality

Happenings Article - 2/14/2024

Greetings Holy Apostles Family,

On this day when we celebrate love, give out chocolates, and recall an arrow-firing cherub, I have a loving message for you: “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” Think I’m crazy? Keep reading!

 

Clergy around the world offer the words above, as they apply the grey remains of palm branches on people’s foreheads. They make the sign of the cross with those ashes in the same place where we are marked as Christ’s own forever in Holy Baptism. As hard as the truth of our transience is to accept, this day is an occasion when we in the Church give it our best shot. 

 

On Ash Wednesday, we hear the truth of our dusty frailty; however, this certainty—that none of us get out of this life alive—flies in the face of so much of the culture around us. Companies in our world love to promote and pedal anything and everything to prevent aging and to avoid death. From workout systems to magic creams to miracle pills advertising agencies pitch us on the idea that if we just fork over some of our precious dollars, we can lengthen our days. With all this death-avoidance in our cultural drinking water, it is no wonder that we buck against our human nature with all our might. Ash Wednesday offers an antidote and another perspective—simply put this service makes us confront that we come from dust, and we return to dust. 

 

We may buck against this emphasis of Ash Wednesday because of culture or even because of instinct. However, embracing mortality allows for us to live into our vocation as human beings. We are not God. We are not infinite. We will not live in these mortal bodies forever. And yet, at the very same time, God made us. God is infinite—and loves us infinitely. God invites us into eternal life, which has already started! Knowing this, we are free to be ourselves—creatures formed from the dust, molded into the likeness of God, and purposed to give God glory by serving our neighbor as ourselves.

 

Today, therefore, I invite you to rest in the good news that you are indeed finite, and not God. You do not have control over all things. You will not live forever. And, while you are mortal flesh and to dust you shall return, you are made good in God’s image, made to worship an infinite God, and made to share God’s eternal love with all whom you meet. 

 

God’s peace be with you,

Seth

 

 

Transfigured: Seeing the Presence of God in Everyday Life

Looking out from Chanting Steep at Sewanee

 

2 Kings 2:1-12

Psalm 50:1-6

2 Corinthians 4:3-6

Mark 9:2-9

 

©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

It doesn’t happen often—an encounter with the transcendent wrapped in the mundane. A moment when despite all odds we see clearly what is not there otherwise to view. Frederick Buechner, the late great churchman and one of my favorite preachers, in his work Whistling in the Dark, described these beautiful interjections of God entering the humdrum with the following words: 

 

The face of a man walking with his child in the park, of a woman baking bread, of sometimes even the unlikeliest person listening to a concert…[or one] standing barefoot in the sand watching the waves roll in, or just having a beer at a Saturday baseball game in July. Every once and so often, something so touching, so incandescent, so alive transfigures the human face that it's almost beyond bearing.

 

Today, we face one such moment as we walk with Peter, James, and John, following Jesus up a high mountain. We have skipped over seven chapters since last Sunday—a product of the peculiarities of the Church year—and in the process, we have missed much. God has been on the move in Jesus’ healing, teaching, preaching, and being with the poor, the sick, and the marginalized. As his path wove ever-nearer to Jerusalem, to his last week, to the Cross, Jesus invited his inner circle of disciples to a mountaintop respite. There something happened that these disciples could only talk about with one another in hushed tones—at least until the Day of Resurrection.

 

On top of this high mountain, Jesus was transfigured. A rarely utilized word in modern speech, it indicates to us that his appearance became more beautiful, radiant, and luminous. Even Jesus’ clothes changed such that they were dazzlingly white. Just for good measure, Mark shared that even if launders had tried, they would not have been able to make his garments this white with all the bleach in the world. 

 

Mysteriously, Jesus was joined in converse high by paramount figures of the Hebrew Faith—Moses and Elijah. Moses was the founder of the Law and Elijah the chief prophet. How the disciples knew who these persons were remains baffling! Of course, the entire encounter defies the grasp of what is logical or reasonable. In this overwhelming state, Peter grasped at straws.

 

The disciple approached Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Mark adds that he knew not what he was saying. Of course, he did not—he was witnessing his teacher glowing with the two most important figures of the Jewish Faith right beside him. Peter then did the most human of things—he tried to hang onto this sacred moment. He wanted to capture the Holy, to teether the Divine to the mountaintop, to box up God. 

 

All of a sudden though, a cloud descended—the mysterious presence of God, the Father enveloped the whole scene. How marvelously terrifying would it have been to be standing in the disciples’ sandals! In the shadow of the Divine presence God’s voice shared the Truth: “This is my son, the beloved; listen to him!”—a mountaintop revelation we continue to unpack. 

 

Then, as suddenly as the figures and the cloud had appeared they vanished. Peter, James, and John were left alone with Jesus. They were left also with the weighty truth of their rabbi’s true identity. He was not just a teacher—he was the Son of God, the Beloved One, the One to listen to and to hear. On top of holding this good and overwhelming news, Jesus gave them the instruction to tell no one, at least until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. Imagine the scene when Peter, James, and John next sat to eat with the other disciples. 

 

“What was it like up on the mountain with Jesus?” asks Andrew. Peter, “Uhhh…”

James, “It was nice.” John, “Yeah, we just chatted with Jesus and looked at the view. Prayed a little bit.” 

 

As funny as this might have been, the Transfiguration, even though we hear it every year on the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, the last Sunday before we begin the Season of Lent, even though we hear this every year, the impact of this story on our lives is often cloudier than the mountaintop. Buechner rightly pointed out that these encounters with the Divine, when God enters our common, human lives are at most once-in-a-lifetime. Still, there are times when we surprisingly catch a glimpse of the ethereal shining brightly through the everyday, like the brilliant spring sunlight illuminating shards of stained-glass. I wonder, have you ever had such a once-in-a-lifetime moment? 

 

God once gave me such a gift. When renewing my Baptismal Vows at the Easter Vigil in 2008 I encountered a Great Mystery. After the Rt. Rev. Duncan Gray Jr., late Bishop of Mississippi and Civil Rights leader, had led me through the renewal of my vows, I was given the opportunity to bear chalice. I was a 23 year-old working in All Saints Chapel where the service was taking place. As I picked up the Schwartz Chalice a fishbowl sized communion cup something happened. The first person kneeling to receive the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation was my childhood priest, the Rev. Francis Xavier Walter. Fr. Francis in his early years of ordained ministry picked up the holy work of Jonathan Daniels that cost him his life. Something holy radiated from Fr. Francis’ face that holy night. 

 

After giving him the chalice, I started to move onto the next communicant, Francis’ wife, Faye. Something stopped me though, as I looked into the reflection of the silver cup. It was a momentary glimpse into the Divine Cloud. Sewanee is known for its fog, but this was a surreal glance, which revealed to me the Great Cloud of Witnesses. It was as though those who were, are, and will be God’s People had converged there to share in Holy Communion. And, just like that, the vision was gone. I faltered for a moment, then got on with communing the full congregation, afraid to share what I had seen for several months. 

 

I know this may sound like the wanderings of an unhinged priest succumbing to the fullness of life as a new rector; however, I know what I saw. I know the truth that has been revealed. Jesus is God’s beloved, and we have the opportunity to dwell in this reality, like we are watching the fog roll in on a misty Sewanee morning. 

 

And yet, these moments of holding the Divine are fleeting, like the joy of holding a baby for the first time, the sting of holding a beloved’s hand as they enter the nearness of God, or a million other incandescent moments in life that we briefly hold as they dissolve before our very eyes. The human instinct is to build containers in these moments—to do something to capture the Divine, like Peter wanted. As we come down from this luminous mountaintop to walk the path of Lent, the road towards Jerusalem, the Way of the Cross, I invite you to embrace every mundane moment with open hands, which allow you to receive what God gives you and to give it away. For as terrifying as this sounds, we will only see the transfigured one, we will only hear God speaking to us, we will only experience the belovedness of the God who made us and makes us one, if we show up, if we watch, and if we listen. 

 

God’s here and now. Do you hear the Divine voice? “You are my beloved.” Amen. 

Onward: How Jesus Models Healthy Boundaries For Us

 

The Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles on the 5th Sunday After the Epiphany

Isaiah 40:21-31

1 Corinthians 9:16-23

Mark 1:29-39

Psalm 147:1-12, 21c

©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

Last week, I spoke with you about an African proverb: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” This is my deeply held belief and a truth of the ministry of Christ Jesus among us. God wants us to go far, together! What does this look like though? Asked another way, how do we go far together? 

 

Today, we catch a glimpse of how Jesus went with his disciples. This Gospel lesson lays out a powerful example of how Jesus dealt with competing goods to perpetuate his ministry. Here he models for us how to have boundaries, so to enact God’s Mission on earth. While this story is packed with details, I want to focus upon one aspect—Christ Jesus’ example of setting healthy limits the morning after those late-night healings. First though, let me set the stage because even though this passage is only 11 verses long it possesses enough content to preach more than three sermons!

 

Our story for today picks up right where we left off last week. Jesus had healed the man with the unclean spirit and impressed all those in the synagogue. After they left the religious service, Jesus, Simon, Andrew, James, and John went to the home of Simon’s mother-in-law. Who knew that Simon was married?! There they found the woman feverous, and bed ridden. Jesus intimately took her by the hand bringing her back to health. Her response? Once freed from illness, she served! What a powerful witness to God’s healing work in her life!

 

That night once the Sabbath ended “they” brought all who were sick or possessed by demons to be healed. The they in this instance is the whole city of Capernaum. Seeing what they saw in the synagogue the whole town was buzzing with excitement—many who were ill spiritually, mentally, emotionally, or physically came to Jesus, and he did not disappoint—curing the sick unto the wee hours of the morning. The demons wanted to name Jesus—to point out his true identity as the Son of God, but Jesus was focused on the mission, he wanted not a title, but to bring health and salvation. Thus, he would not let the demons speak—even though they would have shared the truth. 

 

After such a long night, one would not blame Jesus for sleeping in the next morning, but he did not. When it was still dark, Jesus headed out to pray—to talk to his Heavenly Father, and more importantly to listen and be with his Heavenly Father. I told you a lot was happening. There’s a sermon here about prayer and listening. There was one back there with Simon’s mother-in-law about being freed from disease and serving God. Even one about how the sickest among us—like those demons—sometimes still tell God’s Truth. 

 

That’s not the focus though. The focus is what happens next. Early in the morning when Jesus was praying, Simon and his companions hunted for Jesus. You heard me, HUNTED—like what we do with deer or turkeys. Friends, I heard some hilarious hunting stories at the vestry retreat this year, but none like this. The disciples were going after Jesus like a hunter stalks his prey. They were on a mission. Why? 

 

I imagine it had to do with others who wanted to be healed by Jesus. Even working late into the night, Jesus did not heal everyone. So, the disciples enlivened by seeing Jesus at work wanted more—so they tracked God’s Son like a hunter after a white-tailed buck. When they found him, they unloaded. “Everyone is searching for you!” What was their hope in relaying this information to Jesus? My belief is they felt the pressure from others who were ill in the community. With this weight mounting on the disciples’ shoulders, they tried to pass along their anxieties to their newfound teacher, healer, and leader.  

 

Here we arrive at Jesus’ exemplary behavior in modeling a healthy application of boundaries. The disciples produced for Jesus a dilemma—sick people from Capernaum remained who were yearning for God’s healing power. Or, in their words, everyone is searching for you! Jesus could have taken on the anxieties of the disciples, the worries of those ones who desired restoration in their lives, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” Wait, what? 

 

We might expect that Jesus would stop everything to heal all those clamoring to be made well, and yet he expressed something completely different! Empowered by his early-morning prayer—guided by what the Father had laid on his heart, Jesus exerted a boundary. As harsh as it may sound upon our ears, Jesus drew a line saying my mission is to proclaim the message—the Good News that God’s Salvation has come for all people. 

 

He would heal others. He would cast out other demons. And yet, here Jesus proclaimed that between these competing goods of healing others and spreading the Good News of God, his mission was the latter. Jesus knew his purpose and he stuck to it, which gets to the implication in our lives. 

 

There is too much hurting in the world—too much! There’s too much hurting in our country, in our state, in our counties, and cities. We, as bold, courageous, and loving as we are, cannot fix all of it. Even Jesus has not yet completed this work!

 

Thus, we must have a focus. We at Holy Apostles are being called to share in the Ministry of Christ Jesus—to go far together, and we must listen together for what direction God is calling us to go! Now, to figure out where we are going we have to choose between life-giving things. It’s easy to discern between a harmful and a helpful thing, but much harder when we have multiple destructive options or multiple beneficial ones. I pray that one day we will have more bandwidth and I trust that God will do in us more than we can ask or imagine. And yet, right now is a winnowing time, a time in which we must narrow our focus, and time in which we must establish healthy boundaries. 

 

What I just said might sound scary, and that is okay. It’s challenging to say no to good things. However, instead of hearing this and thinking that the grim reaper is coming, I invite you to imagine this as a refining time when God is inviting us to clarify our vision, our values, and our mission—like fire improving a precious metal. 

 

To discern our vision, values, and mission, let’s sit down to together. Over the coming months, I want to be with all of you individually and collectively to discern together what is that direction, what vision is God dreaming with us, what mission is Jesus walking with us. I want to have lunch or coffee with you. I want to break bread together yes at this table but also at other tables. As you might guess there’s a lot of folks wanting to meet with me right now, so it’s going to take months for me to gather with all of you. Slowly though we will. 

 

Now, one final implication in our lives about boundaries from today’s Gospel. The disciples said, “Everyone is searching for you!” The way Jesus inserted a boundary was to change the direction of the conversation by inserting his mission. However, saying “everyone is asking about this,” or “no one likes your sermons” to a clergy person is not just unhelpful, it’s downright harmful to our relationship. It creates distance. If you say these sorts of things to me, I am going to try to redirect by asking, “Who is searching for me, or asking about something?” 

 

The reason I want clarification is pastoral in nature. If people are frustrated with me, I want to know. If people are happy with me, I want to know. The best way we can work together is through open, honest communication. So, please talk with me. If you’re disappointed or hurt, if you’re thrilled or happy, let me know. Shoot me a text, send me an email, give me a call, or stop by my office (maybe make an appointment first). 

 

For us to go far together we need clear lines of communication, we require healthy boundaries. These will help us as we clarify our vision, values, and mission. The Good News is that Jesus models a path for us to walk. So let us continue to discern and be together sharing the truth in love, let us go onward into a deepening relationship with God and each other. Amen.