Give The Present To God

If all time is a gift from God what do we do with the present?

2 Samuel 7:1-14a
Psalm 89:20-37
Ephesians 2:11-22
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

© 2024 Seth Olson

This sermon was preached on July 21, 2024, the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 11B), at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of the service may be found here. 

 

Earlier this summer, I got to be a big camper at Wonderful, Wonderful Camp McDowell. I was not alone. My elder child, Teddy was my bunkmate and we had a blast. I was reminded why time at camp is the best! Through Teddy’s first experience at McDowell, I could see such joy—making new friends, singing songs, having a pasture party, swimming in the pool, and being in the woods! There was one block of time each day though that was a challenge. This period reminded me of how much I did not like this hour when I was a wee little camper.

Back then, I despised this time above all other times. No, it was not swim tests. Nor was it dancing with yucky girls who had cooties—I mean even as an awkward and pimply tween, I liked to dance. I even liked the minimal air-conditioning, the time away from TV, and the rustic restrooms. The time I could not stand, I could not tolerate, I could not abide was none other than “rest period.” 

You may think that I am a calm, laid-back, and contemplative person. And, as your pastor, I aspire to be a non-anxious presence, but deep down I’m like a duck. On the surface I look like I’m floating along, and yet underneath the water level there’s always churning and movement and activity. So, as a camper to ask me to nap or be quiet or even sit still on my bed during rest period was the greatest agony. Why yes, I did have a cushy childhood—why do you ask? Still, I did not learn the great joy of napping or resting or even relaxing until later. Even now I love restoration, but I’m not good at it. And, I’m not alone. 

We as a society cannot calm down. Even back during Pandemic time when much of the world slowed down, there were many people burning themselves out! This tells me, we are not good at resting. As someone once told me, “I don’t do nothing well.” Incorrect grammar aside—we don’t do nothing well. We are bad at sitting still. We are like campers who have been loaded up with sugar and can’t sit still during rest time. 

So, what do we do when Jesus invites us to “Come away to a deserted place all by [ourselves] and rest a while”? How do we slow down enough to even hear him inviting us? Can we utilize Sabbath time or moments of respite wisely?

In the Church, we often talk about Stewardship of money or resources or even volunteering opportunities. As important as our stewardship of these gifts is, so is the stewardship of our time. As we enter the last bit of summer vacation (away from school), I wonder, how can we be good stewards of our times of leisure? 

I wrote about this last month in Happenings, but on the surface the phrase “Stewardship of Leisure” sounds silly, for leisure is spare time, time off, or free time used for refreshment. Why not let it just be spontaneous? Why worry about free time? Doesn’t that sort of structure defeat the purpose? To answer these questions, think about some free time or a vacation that felt unfulfilling. Maybe you came back more tired than when you left.

When we do not use our down time effectively it is akin to spending important monetary funds on something that you do not need, that does not bring lasting joy, or does not serve a larger purpose. Sadly, I have experienced a few retreats and vacations that depleted me instead of recharging me. Those unsatisfying moments of leisure were such because I did not think from the perspective of good stewardship. I was not thankful for what God was giving me. In other words, I did not recognize that the time away was a gift from God. I was a bad steward of time. 

To listen to Jesus’ call to come away with him to a quiet place of refreshment is not about having the perfect plan. For that sort of over-scheduling can in and of itself defeat the work of the Spirit to create new spirits in us. So, what does being a good steward of leisure time or time in general look like? Well, what does today’s good news teach us?

As you might have noticed, there is a hole in the middle of today’s Gospel lesson. In that space (6:35-6:52) is the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. Don’t worry over the next five Sundays we will hear way too much about Jesus and bread to make up for this week’s missing morsels. Today it’s important to see how Jesus’ invitation to come away to a deserted place did not turn out exactly as we might expect. 

Jesus invited the apostles to rest awhile. And yet, that time of respite was cut short, as the Spirit intervened in the way of many tired souls seeking sustenance. They descended upon Jesus and his friends as soon as the protagonists reached the shore. 

This onslaught of people meant that the disciples had no leisure time, not even to eat. Tired and hungry from their own missionary work, the disciples may have even been looking forward to a little rest and relaxation. Instead, they were tasked with helping Jesus feed the masses. It was as though a feeding ministry broke out in the middle of their retreat center! The time that God had given the disciples to rest was now time when God was asking them to work. Can anyone here relate to life throwing something unexpected your way? 

Maybe all of us can think of times during the last several years when we thought one thing would happen, but something else entirely came to be. Parents who were excited to have children at home only to realize that teachers do not get paid enough money. College students or workers who rejoiced at not having to get out of bed for class or a job, then realized that Zoom can be more work than in-person classes or meetings. Recent retirees who looked forward to travel, but then faced isolation and staying at home to avoid getting sick. There are countless ways in which one thing was expected, but another came instead. A seminary professor I had said on the first day of orientation, “Expectations are resentments waiting to happen.” 

So, what do we do when life surprises us? Are we never to rest? Are we to give until we are burnt out, broke, and bone-tired? 

Perhaps the fruit of this passage grows from an exploration of the way we see not only our free time but all time. Maybe you have heard of the practice of a rule of life, or as our outgoing Presiding Bishop Michael Curry calls it, a way of love. The purpose of this way is to find everyday practices that encourage and challenge us to give our first fruits to God—to give our best time to forming habits that nourish our relationship with Christ. When you thrive in your way of love, when you dedicate yourself to a framework that grows your relationship with God and neighbor, then all time gets transformed. This isn’t always easy to remember though.

During seminary I often felt like I had too much to do—papers to write, sermons to prepare, and work to do at my field parish. Sometimes I would just do the bare minimum. I would go to the required one chapel each day, but I shirked a second or third opportunity to spend that time with God and fellow students. 

One day I was walking back from class with a friend. He began to turn toward the chapel and I started toward my apartment. I said, “I went to Morning Prayer already. I don’t have time to go to Eucharist today.” He responded humbly, “I don’t know what I have time to do until I go to chapel. Afterward my priorities become clearer.” After a deep exhale, I turned around and went to chapel.

Maybe in that moment I felt guilty—like one of the disciples who just wanted to rest and not deal with the hungry thousands. Slowly though, I have realized how wise my friend’s words were. Every moment of every day, God gifts us with the present. Each new day overflows with opportunities to grow our relationship with God and one another. 

We need times of Sabbath, restoration, and healing, or else we will not be able to sustain our personal and collective ministries. And, whether it is free time or work time, family time or personal time, prayer time or other time God gives us each second, minute, hour, day, week, month, and year. All of it is a gift—regardless of what type of time we think it is. 

At all times and in all places, we are called to give thanks to God for the present we receive. Some of those moments will be Jesus calling us away to a deserted place, and other moments will be times to forget our needs and serve those who are without. If we continue to give our best moments to God, we will discover something amazing.

Like how God transforms the bread and wine that we put on the altar each week into our Eucharistic Sacraments: the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven; the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation, and like how God transforms the monetary gifts we bring to the altar as symbols of ourselves into the ministries of healing and blessing in this world, when we give our time to God, God transforms it and God changes us. 

Each nanosecond we receive from God is already a gift. God beckons us to give each moment back, so that it may be blessed and sanctified. Like how a child might get markers and paper from a parent, but what they give back is pure gift for that guardian! All moments are gifts. Can you recognize them as such and give them back to God? This will be easy during a calm moment with Christ, but what about when the would-be-tranquil-times are interrupted by a chance for ministering to another? Even then, this moment is a gift. When we recognize that all time is gift it is easy to give the present back to God. Amen.

Good News? Yes, Good News!

After today's Gospel lesson (Mark 6:14-29) we had the audacity of saying the above words, but is this story of the beheading of John the Baptist really good news?

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29

 

During Holy Week we hear the Passion of Our Lord. We read an account on Palm Sunday and hear the Evangelist John describe Jesus’ suffering on Good Friday. During those moments the Church mercifully leaves out the traditional introduction and the congregation’s response. Today though, we did not have that luxury.

After hearing this brutal story of a corrupt, powerful, and witless figure I said, “The Gospel of the Lord.” And, you all responded—perhaps sheepishly—“Praise to you, Lord Christ.” How are we to offer our praise after hearing this? What about this is good news? Can we even describe this as positive? Is there any good news in this passage at all? Maybe. But, first we must hear the bad news. (Buechner: The Gospel is bad news before it is good news)

This bit of Mark’s Gospel account opens so strangely. King Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee, a man who reported directly to the emperor, was worried. Herod’s anxiety arose because he began to hear of Jesus of Nazareth. This upstart rabbi reminded him of someone else—John the Baptizer. And, Herod had just beheaded John. But, this is where the story gets even stranger, for the next anecdote—the longest in Mark’s Gospel account—is a flashback. This recollection depicts how Herod’s family used his power against him to murder John the Baptizer. This is bad news indeed. 

Now even though Herod answered directly to the emperor, most historians depict him as a blundering, weak fool. A colleague described him as a “murderous, lecherous, gluttonous, incestuous enemy of God.” That about covers it. But, this long flashback sequence still deserves a little more scrutiny.

At the beginning of this remembrance the Baptizer had spoken an unwanted truth to the king. John said one is not to take his brother’s wife. Leviticus clearly outlined this rule. Now, this ought not be confused with caring for a brother’s widow. No, what Herod did was steal his brother Philip’s wife. So, John the Baptist told Herod and Herodias that God did not approve. 

Herod, the worm of a man he was, made a weak compromise with Herodias. Herodias wanted John the Baptist killed. Herod, although he was perplexed by John, enjoyed hearing him speak. So, Herod decided to keep John alive, and under lock and key. But, then came Herod’s ill-fated birthday party.

Mark tells us that an opportunity arose when Herod threw a birthday party for himself and invited a bunch of his powerful friends. The word opportunity stands out here for two reasons. First, opportunity means “happy day.” Herodias saw the day when she could kill John as a joyful occasion. Murder then or now is antithetical to the abounding joyfulness of God’s peace! Second, opportunity is the same word used later in Mark’s Gospel account when Judas betrayed Jesus turning him over to his death, which brings us to a larger parallel. 

This story of John’s betrayal and death at the hands of the systems of power prefigures Jesus’ own betrayal and death. It is sounding more and more like bad news, right? Back to today’s story and the opportunity.

Herodias in a ghastly move of desperation sent her daughter into the birthday party to please Herod and his guests. Herod was this young girl’s step-father and uncle making the entire encounter disturbing enough. However, the foolish king quickly gave the girl a chance to make this party even more sadistic. For Herod promised the younger Herodias she could have whatever she wanted, up to half of the kingdom. In the midst of this disgusting birthday party, the Herodiases had the king right where they wanted him.

The mother-daughter combination pounced on the opportunity, as they asked for John the Baptist’s head. The girl added the gory detail of “on a platter” to her request. Then, the deed was carried out by a hapless soldier. When the man of the guard returned with John’s head on a salver he did not take it to the powerless king, but straight to the girl who promptly and proudly displayed it to her mother. This cannot be good news. Right?

This story has to fall under the category of bad news. Jesus is nowhere to be found. The terrible triumvirate of Herod, Herodias, and Herodias never reappear in Mark’s story. And, perhaps most horrifically this flashback to John’s death is truly a foreshadowing of what Jesus would face on Good Friday. So, why are we to face Jesus’ death, our Faith’s darkest day, here in the middle of the summer? Why are we thrust into the despair of Holy Week during this long season after Pentecost? Why must we endure this bad news and where is the Good News?

Everything in Mark’s Gospel connects. Right before this nightmarish flashback the twelve were sent out to do the work of curing the sick and preaching repentance—and they did it well. Right after this story Jesus takes the disciples away to rest, but ends up feeding the five thousand. This gross story we heard today then points simultaneously in multiple directions. 

First, the power of Jesus’ name was spreading. As Jesus sent out his disciples there were consequences. The power of his name had not only reached those people who yearned for God’s Kingdom to come, but also to those who were threatened by this Good News. We are to share in Jesus’ Good News—that God’s Kingdom has come to all—even with those in power.

Second, when the disciples brought healing and word of God’s Kingdom coming to the towns where they visited, they were attended by success. This was not the case with John. For the Baptizer also shared the Truth of God, but he was killed for it. Those in power could not handle what John had to say. We can—when we speak truth to power like John—undergo resistance, persecution, and even harm. God still calls us to preach this Good News even if it gets us into good trouble. 

Third, most of this ghastly flashback story took place at an exclusive banquet for the elite. As we look forward to next Sunday’s Gospel lesson we see another gathering. Jesus’ feeding of the Five Thousand was a counter-banquet to the murderous, lecherous, gluttonous, and incestuous birthday bash for Herod. All were invited to take part in Jesus’ mass on the grass—everyone got to attend the outdoor, pop-up party with Christ.

Thus, we see in these directions our own opportunities, our own happy days in which God transforms even this gruesome story into something more. God switches what we are sure is bad into what God knows is good. But, God yearns for us to be a part of this.

We are called to be like the disciples. Friends, we must make Jesus’ name known. For this world needs his message of healing and hope and love. And quite often it will be like the disciples in last week’s Gospel story. We will be met with peace and smiles and hospitality. Sometimes though it will be different.

We will be called to share God’s Truth like John the Baptist. God desires for us to share Good News, and not just with those whom we know will like it. There are countless examples of Christians like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Edith Stein, Óscar Romero, Jonathan Daniels, and Martin Luther King Jr. who in their day spoke truth to power, even though it led them to death. They were people not unlike us, they were folk like you and me. They and John help us to know that we cannot sit on God’s truth—why would we keep Good News all to ourselves?

Finally, we are called to make our gatherings ones that look like the feeding of the five thousand, not like Herod’s birthday party. God showed us through Christ Jesus that all are welcome to feed at God’s Table—and yes, that includes the elitists from Herod’s own gathering. How will you invite EVERYONE—and I mean everyone—to be part of God’s banquet where all are welcome? 

Make Jesus’ Good News known in all the world. Share God’s Truth with all even those in power who may be threatened by it. Let us invite everyone to God’s Table where we will all feast together. Amen.

Find Opportunities To Trust God

Happy 15th birthday to my niece who features prominently in today's sermon.

 

2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
Psalm 48
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Mark 6:1-13

 

©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.

 

Listening for God’s call in our lives requires patience and perseverance. I bet you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like we strain and strain and strain to understand what God is saying to us. Perhaps that is why we hear in the Psalms of God’s still, small voice—and not God’s booming, obvious speech. Or why Elijah met God not in storms or earthquakes, but in shear silence. But, even when we hear God’s call, even in the stillness, in the silence we may discover a host of obstacles standing between where we are and where God is calling us to be. These challenges can be giant and unfamiliar, or they may confront us when we are eating lunch with our family.

 

One day I went out to lunch with my mom and sister right before an important meeting with the Rt. Rev. Henry N. Parsley, who was the 10^th Bishop of Alabama. The meeting was about my discernment for priestly ordination. After driving down from Sewanee where I was working, my family and I ate lunch at Jim ’N’ Nick’s Barbecue in Southside Birmingham. My niece who turns 15 today, was only a few weeks old at the time, and she came to lunch also.

 

For most of the meal we talked about discernment and being a parent and life. And, for most of lunch my niece slept peaceably in her car seat. Finally, as we finished eating and my meeting with the bishop drew nearer, my niece awoke. My sister brought her over to my side of the booth, so that I could hold her for a few moments. I rocked my niece for just a few seconds before feeling a warm sensation—no, not in my heart, but on my arm. At that precise moment a look of terror crossed my sister’s face and then my mother’s. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but suffice it to say the word “blowout!” was used. 

 

Quickly I rushed to the restroom to assess the damage and clean up. In the mirror I could tell quite easily that I could not go meet a bishop looking like this. As I began to panic, I remembered that I had an extra set of clothes in the car, and so I rushed outside to get them. When I arrived at my car another look of terror arose and crossed my own face. I observed in horror a traffic boot attached to my wheel preventing me from going anywhere, and in particular to my meeting with the bishop. In my nervousness before lunch I did not notice that I was parking in a private lot. 

 

Right then, in soiled clothing, with a wheel lock on my car, and proverbial butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I began to question whether I ought to be pursuing ordained ministry at all. Was this a sign? Did God not want me to keep going? Was this a test? What was God saying? You’ll have to keep listening to find out what happened, but what about you?

 

What happens to you when obstacles befall your journey? Do you stop? Do you think it’s a sign from God to turn around and go home? What do you do?

 

This morning, we heard a passage from a letter Paul wrote to Christians in Corinth. If you don’t know much about that church that’s okay. They were a conflict-ridden lot. They could not wait on each other to partake in communion. They fell prey to infighting, lust, and idol worship. They were to put it simply, a dysfunctional church—one that others in the area probably spoke about in hushed tones. 

 

While the church in Corinth is not identical to the Church (capital C) today, it is not entirely different from it either. What happens when Holy Apostles or the Church faces difficulties, dysfunction, and drama? Well, what happened in Corinth? Paul, perhaps at this point exhausted from all the Corinthian shenanigans took to writing of his own weakness. Huh? Not strength?

 

As he wrote of weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities what he urged his siblings in Christ to do was not to let those obstacles overwhelm them. Certainly on their own these things would stop them. Sure, if it was just about them pushing onward as individuals they would not make it. But, those weaknesses were the very place where Christ would strengthen them through grace. I know, that sounds odd, but it’s true.

 

Paul was right. In those places where he had been afflicted by a proverbial thorn, he might not be able to be strong on his own. But, with God’s help, those places of vulnerability become the place where God would show great strength. This was true not just for Paul, nor only for that the Early Church, but also for us.

 

We often get told things like, “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” “Keep your head down and work hard,” “Put in enough honest days’ work and you will achieve the American dream.” Sure, we are to be honest and hardworking. But, as odd as this may sound trusting only in ourselves, thinking we must make it on our own flies completely in the face of what Paul said. And, what’s more it runs opposed to the story of God’s love for us in Holy Scripture. 

 

When the Israelites fled their Egyptian captivity Moses told the people, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still.” When the people needed a champion to beat Goliath, the Lord provided David who then reigned for forty years as king. And, in today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus sent out his disciples without food, extra clothing, or money. Why? Because following Jesus and trusting in God is not about making it on our own—proving that we can overcome all the obstacles on our path. 

 

In this lesson from Mark’s Gospel account, God not only gave provision, but God also gave an opportunity to bring healing and wholeness to the places previously untouched by God’s love! The story of God’s love for us in Scripture reminds us of amazing grace that is not achieved, but freely given to us most abundantly through Christ. So, what about getting through obstacles like dirty diapers, traffic boots, or scary meetings with the bishop? 

 

Well, on that day almost fifteen years ago, I learned something very valuable. Those challenges that arose, that now are quite laughable, were opportunities for me to trust God. Eventually, I walked into the bishop’s office in clean clothes and on time. As you may have guessed, I made it through that meeting and one day did become a priest—I know surprise ending! But, what about when challenges arise in your life or in our communal life? How do we approach the obstacles ahead? How do we deal with our own physical, emotional, spiritual, or mental dilemmas? How do we as a church stay calm and healthy as we navigate the ups and downs of the life? 

 

In the face of challenges, we always have more than one way to respond. One way we might respond is being like the townspeople in today’s Gospel lesson. They relied upon the way they had always seen things. They had put Jesus in a box. To them he was always a carpenter, brother, and son—not God come to earth. Instead of knowing the transforming power of God’s repentance, forgiveness, and love they let the obstacle of familiarity get in the way. They missed being part of God’s transforming love because they couldn’t see beyond what they already knew. The disciples though saw things differently.

 

Now the disciples were not paragons of belief—remember they doubted Jesus on stormy waters in our reading from a couple weeks ago. But, they had just seen Jairus and an unnamed woman trust in God, and they heard Jesus give them authority to go out bringing healing and repentance in his name. So, they went. They trusted. Even without food, extra clothes, or money, they believed! The challenges they faced were opportunities to trust.

 

When we face difficulties ahead, how will we respond? Will we let a soiled outfit, a traffic boot, or the fear of something important cloud our vision? Or, will we see the obstacles on our path as opportunities to trust God? God invites us to see these challenges like Paul did. When we feel weak, that is the moment when God shows strength. Our perplexing moments are opportunities to trust God. Will we see God’s strength in our weakness? Whenever we are weak, God is strong. God’s grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness! This life is an opportunity to trust in God’s grace! What will you trust? What do you believe?