Lay Everything Aside and Love

An Orthodox icon of Jesus washing the disciples' feet

© Seth Olson 2019

April 18, 2019—Maundy Thursday

Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14
Psalm 116:1, 10-17

1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-17, 31b-35

As a child, I had a hard time understanding Maundy Thursday. When I was about six-years-old, my dad and I dropped off my mom and sister at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church on Southside for this very service, the Maundy Thursday liturgy. Instead of attending the powerful foot washing and Institution of Holy Communion, we drove further into Birmingham to Boutwell Auditorium. “Why?” you ask. Well, so that we could attend a live-action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles show, of course. The lights, the pyrotechnics, and the action were spellbinding. I walked out of that facility with my feet several inches off the ground. Then, we went back to St. Andrew’s to pick up my mom and sister.

I remember running to the side chapel and being stopped in my tracks as I pulled open the door. Expecting to see smiling, happy faces and a well-lit sanctuary like usual, instead I saw something I had never before seen at church. In the bleak candlelight, I beheld tear-soaked cheeks and solemn faces of the devoutly anguished parishioners who were inside the unlit, cavernous space. And, as we walked from the darkness of the church into the darkness of the night, I tried to comfort my mom. Although, I was confused about the reason for her sadness. So I said, “Don’t worry mom, the ninja turtles will be back someday and you can go see them.” I had missed the point entirely. Like the disciples of old, I couldn’t comprehend what was happening around me that night. I later wondered more earnestly, “What were they doing at church?” I still think that’s a helpful question: What are we doing here tonight?

In St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians we just heard words so familiar that they may not have even registered in our minds, let alone our hearts. “Do this… in remembrance of me.” Even if these words did not arrest us such that they impacted us deep in our souls, we are familiar with them and to where they point us. The bread and the wine when we gather to remember Christ become His Body and His Blood. We eat and drink them to become the Body ourselves in this sacred, sacramental mystery. This is the most fitting night of the Church year to take part in Holy Communion, and yet our Gospel lesson does not mention bread or wine at all. Again, what are we doing here tonight?

This night is not simply a night when we remember the Institution of Holy Communion during the Lord's Last Supper, it is also a night when we hear Jesus give us a new commandment. This is why, as you may know, we call this night Maundy Thursday. Maundy from the Latin word mandatum meaning commandment. What was Jesus’ New Command?

“Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you should love one another.” What does this love look like? As we search through John’s telling of the Good News, we do not find Jesus sealing this commandment “to love” with bread and wine, but rather with a towel and a basin. As we imagine the teacher kneeling to wash his disciples’ feet, we can hardly comprehend just how strange this act truly was.

Foot washing is odd. It’s just plain weird. We do not normally wash each other’s feet. Sure, occasionally some of us may get a pedicure, but we do not then reciprocate the action of the pedicurist. Other than on Maundy Thursday, have you ever washed another person’s feet or had your feet washed? It is a rare act. And while the altar guild, acolytes, clergy, and congregation, all of us, have prepared for the logistics of this unique night, none of us can fully prepare for how intimate, humbling, and even embarrassing foot washing truly is. This is what we are doing this night, we are remembering Christ’s commandment to love by doing what he did to show this love. We are taking part in the self-giving love that Christ Jesus showed his disciples—the same self-emptying love that God has for each one of us and for all of humanity.

Of course, this almost practical question of “What are we doing?” is not the only one worth pondering this night. Jesus himself made another inquiry. After washing his followers’ feet, he quizzed, “Do you know what I have done for you?” The disciples wisely remained quiet. Even with 2,000 years we still have a hard time comprehending fully what it was Jesus did for us.

John’s Gospel account described Jesus as “the Good Shepherd,” “the Light of the World,” “the Resurrection and the Life,” “the Vine,” and “the One through whom all things were made,” and this one, the Christ, the Messiah, God Incarnate stooped down to rinse off the grim from his friends’ feet. To wipe away the filth caked between their toes remains a subservient act so profound that we mostly come up short in our grasping for modern analogies. Cleaning out a loved one’s bedpan? Bathing a dying parent’s body? Kneeling to wipe vomit from a sick child’s face? These and others come close, but none completely unlock just how powerful Jesus’ loving example was. But, during the next three days, the holiest ones in our common life, we won't just strive to understand foot washing, but all of what Christ Jesus has done for us. What has God done for us through Christ?

Even if we cannot unlock these sacred mysteries, we are called to experience the completeness of Christ Jesus’ saving work. Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday are not about understanding with our minds, but allowing our souls to gaze upon the loving acts of God. These three days we see most clearly how far, how deep, and how wide God’s love is. The acts of Christ Jesus clarified once and for all that nothing separates us from the redeeming love of God.

As the Anglican Divine Jeremy Taylor put it, “Thus God lays everything aside, that he may serve his servants; heaven stoops to earth, and one abyss calls [to] another, and the miseries of humanity, which were next to infinite, are excelled by a mercy equal to the immensity of God.” [1] What has God done for us? God has laid everything aside, crossed the abyss, and loved us. What is more, God has commanded us to love one another.

Thus we bring out bowls and pitchers, we partake in bread and wine, Christ’s Body and Blood, and we leave this church in darkness. We recall in prayer Jesus’ birth, his baptism, his teachings, his healings, and his life. And, we walk with Jesus this night to the garden and tomorrow to Golgatha, to Calvary, and to the Cross. The totality of what God has done we may never comprehend. We may only understand this mystery through a glass dimly, as St. Paul put it. So instead may we, like God, lay everything aside, may we take part in these holy mysteries, and may we love one another as Christ has loved us.

[1] Taylor, Jeremy, 1613-1667, Reginald Heber, and Charles Page Eden. The Whole Works of the Right Rev. Jeremy Taylor. London: Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1847-1856, Volume 2:628-629, https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.b3944186;view=1up;seq=649. Accessed April 18, 2019.

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. 

Passionate About Bread

Delicious bread... What about the bread of life?

This sermon was preached at St. John’s Church, Decatur, AL on the Third Wednesday in Easter. The lessons used were the following:

Acts 8:1b–8
John 6:35–40

When I was a child I loved bread so much. I would save whatever roll or toast or croissant or biscuit was on my plate until the very end. My obsession over bread was so well known in my family that they often made fun of me for it. They thought it was funny how I saved my bread for last or made subsequent trips back to the kitchen not for more of the main course, but for a side roll. I wonder sometimes if I have that sort of passion for the bread of life. Do you? Do we?

We find ourselves during this Third Week of Easter in the midst of John 6, which is all about bread. The bread of life to be more specific. We will hear this chapter again for five weeks this July and August. By the end of that time, we may all be too stuffed to hear any more about the bread of life. But, at this moment, when we are less satiated by glorious gluten, Jesus being the bread of life tastes fresh. So, if I am passionate about that bread—if I do not merely consume the Body of Christ, but allow it to consume me and to transform me, what happens? Well, our story from the Acts of the Apostles gives us a couple of hints.

Yesterday we heard the story of Stephen’s martyrdom and today we heard the story of Saul’s persecution of the early Jesus movement—both point to how the bread of life not only feeds but transforms our selves, souls, and lives. Stephen heard the story of Jesus, he was transformed by the bread of life. He was called to distribute sustenance to the poor. In his death he relied on Jesus as his source of strength. And, even after his death, as Evan reminded me today, his grave would have been a place where early Church members shared Eucharist to commemorate and celebrate his life and his second-birth into heaven. Stephen’s life, death, and example point to the power that the bread of life can have on an entire community. What about Saul?

We may be familiar with the story of Saul, but how was he transformed by the bread of life? Saul, the pious of the pious among the People of Israel, devoted his life to being devout. When others stoned Jesus to death, they laid their coats at Saul’s feet. He was a persecutor of the early Church because it threatened his own Faith. Of course, all of that changed one day on the road to Damascus. There he was blinded by God, heard God’s voice, was healed by a Christian, and his life turned from a persecutor of Christ to one of his greatest evangelists. God gave Saul a new name Paul. Right then, his old life died and he was born again.

In this new life, Paul was nourished by the bread of life. Through consuming that bread he was transformed, and he became consumed by the Body of Christ. He articulated that image for us, such that we hold onto it to this day. Paul would eventually die his own gruesome death standing up for the very thing he had persecuted others for. This sounds very much like transformation. How did it happen? Through being nourished by the bread of life.

So, what about us? How will we be transformed by the bread of life? When we come to this table, when we approach the Good News of Christ Jesus, when we share in fellowship with others, when we give of ourselves to God’s work in this world, when we pray to God, when we dwell in silence with God, in all of these ways and many more we take in the bread of life. The changes that we may show are probably too numerous to name; however, we will look something like Stephen and Paul.

We will be filled with God’s Good News. We will share it in churches, in public spaces, and even to the powers that be. We will care for the weak and the outcast. We will feed others with the bread of life physically and otherwise. Wherever it is we go we can be fed by the bread of life. And wherever it is we go God will be there to transform us, just as God did with Stephen and Paul through Christ who was and is the bread of life.

Luke 2:22-40: Jesus (and our) Presentation

-As it is the day of the Super Bowl, and since we are jumping from John’s and Matthew’s Gospels the last two weeks respectively, I felt that it was fitting to do a little play-by-play and color commentary on what is really going on in today’s gospel account from Luke.

-Story of the Presentation with some insights:

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, the parents of Jesus brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons." (2:22-24)

-When Jesus was born, according to Moses’ Law, as stated in Leviticus, Mary would have been seen as impure for one whole week. She would have been bathed after seven days, as a means of purification, yet this was not the end of it. For thirty-three days more Mary would have been prohibited from touching anything holy. So forty days after December 25th when we celebrate Jesus’ birth, is February 2nd (today) when this purification would have occurred. At the time of her purification, Mary would have presented an offering as well. In the case of someone from her lowly social class, her offering would be not three French hens, not a partridge in a pear tree, but two turtledoves or two pigeons.

-Yet, in Luke’s gospel it is not Mary that goes to the Temple for purification, but the whole family. Mary, Joseph, and Jesus go to the Temple together bringing their offering and themselves in line with both the Law of Moses and God’s will. In this case, unlike many times later in life when Jesus will be at odds with the Pharisees quoting the Law of Moses, God’s will and the aim of the law are in sync with one another.

-Still the law comes off seeming a bit strange in regard to Mary. She who bore God’s Son, the Messiah, the Incarnation of all things holy, was not to touch anything that was holy for forty days. So maybe the law is not completely in line with God’s workings here, but at least it is close.

-Today we offer our first fruits to God in the spiritual practice of stewardship, in this day and age, it was customary that the first male child was offered to God as a priest in God’s Temple. One could get out this priestly duty for merely five shekels.  (Look at Evan: You mean we can get out of this for five shekels?). We call today the Presentation because this is the day on which Jesus is presented to God and designated as holy to the Lord. Imagining this Holy moment when Mary and Joseph travel from Galilee to Jerusalem so that they can fulfill the law and be righteous to God designating their son to the Lord AND at the same time on some level knowing from the visions of angels before Jesus’ birth that this actually was the LORD on Earth… seeing this moment makes me my heart burst. Yet, it gets better!

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; (2:25-27a)

-Simeon was a priest in the Temple whom the Holy Spirit had visited. In this visitation Simeon discovered that he was not to taste death until he had met the Savior, the one who would console Israel, the Lord’ Messiah. Simeon has a gift that constantly eludes me: patience.

-Waiting: traffic, airports, dorm staff, laundry mat; I do not enjoy this.

-Simeon though spent his life being ready, waiting and watching. It is in this hyper awareness that the Spirit leads Simeon to be at the Temple and to take the Christ child in his arms.

and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying,

"Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel." (2:27b-32)

OR

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, *
    according to thy word;
For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, *
    which thou hast prepared before the face of all people,
To be a light to lighten the Gentiles, *
    and to be the glory of thy people Israel. (BCP p. 66)

OR

Lord, you now have set your servant free *
    to go in peace as you have promised;
For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
    whom you have prepared for all the world to see:
A Light to enlighten the nations, *
    and the glory of your people Israel. (BCP p. 135)

-Every Sunday that the EYC (our Episcopal Youth Community) meets at about 6:45 in the evening, you can hear this beautiful song. To be present in hearing its harmonies dance upon my ears makes my heart smile. Still there is more beauty in this song than even its pleasant sound in my hearing.

-God had called Simeon to wait, and to be a far more patient man than I will ever be. When he finally takes the Christ child in his arms he cannot help but burst into song, for consolation has come to Israel and God’s Savior has come into the world. Sure Simeon is free from waiting, but he is free from so much more. He is free now to help in sharing that light that will enlighten the nations, he is free to go in peace, he is free to be a part of the Good News.

-As difficult as it is, I pray that I might have patience, so that I might be alert enough to pay attention when God is right in front of me. In a friend who requires me to listen, in a beggar who needs more than money to get by, in a stranger who seeks true connection Jesus Christ is there. Am I going to be like Simeon, waiting and watching, to see Jesus in my arms? At the altar? At the peace? Do I see Christ in my arms like he saw Jesus in his?

And the child's father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. (2:33)

-After forty days of changing diapers, feeding, and bathing baby Jesus, his parents were bleary eyed and exhausted. Perhaps they forgot that the angels had visited them, maybe the whole “This is God’s Son” thing was wearing off when they heard Simeon’s song. They were amazed.

Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, "This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed-- and a sword will pierce your own soul too." (2:34-35)

-Simeon’s final words to Mary after he blesses them are haunting. Jesus will reveal the inner thoughts of many and he is destined for the rising and falling of many in Israel. Even among God’s Chosen people Jesus will cause tumult. Those who wanted Jesus to lead with military force would surely be disappointed, those who saw the messiah as one taking away their power would also face a fall, but those who were lowly and like Simeon sought the fulfilling of all things would rise.

-Like Simeon, Anna has been waiting. She has lived a long life after her marriage and spends here nights and days fasting and praying. Right as Mary and Joseph have been amazed by one prophet of God Anna reiterates that in Jesus God is praised.

There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. (2:36-38)

-If we look at what Simeon and Anna do together: fast, pray, spend time in Temple, look for the redemption (consolation) of Israel, present to the Spirit, praise God.

-This is what we must also do.

When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.(2:39-40)

-Mary and Joseph went to fulfill the law, but what they receive is reaffirmation that the child Jesus in their care is God’s Messiah destined to cause many in Israel to rise and fall and to bring out their thoughts and to cause the fulfillment of God’s purposes on this earth.

Our God is Persistent

When I was twelve years old Mrs. Sallie Lowe stopped me after a service of Holy Eucharist in which I had served as an acolyte. She said to me, "Seth, you will make a great priest one day." My mom who was standing nearby says the look on my face did not hide my emotions. I was both bewildered and annoyed by the thought of spending my life working in the Church. Sure, I loved going to worship God on Sunday. Yes, I enjoyed being an acolyte. Certainly, I possessed a deep fascination with the mysterious words we prayed together at worship, but a priest? COME ON! As a pre-teen, I thought I would always love God, but being a minister in the Church was far from my ideal life path.

Seventeen years later, the clock ticks down the seconds until Tomorrow night, December 11th at 5:30 when I will be ordained to the sacred order of priests in God's one holy catholic and apostolic Church. How did this happen? Simply put, our God calls is persistent. Yet, I have found that ministry with one another and with God requires that I must slow down, be quiet, and listen to what form that ministry will take.

In the years after Mrs. Sallie prophesied at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church about my future vocation, I attempted to follow other passions to see where they led. For a while, I wanted to be a professional soccer player or a sportscaster, but when career day came around I decided to follow around my priest. On that day I allowed myself to wonder if working in God’s Church could be more appealing than I had initially thought. Mrs. Sallie’s words were echoing in my heart.

During college I joined every Christian group imaginable, but by my junior year I struggled with my belief in God. What if God does not exist? What if God does not care about me? What if? After a difficult breakup, I felt emotionally raw, and I hurled accusations at God. I questioned God’s presence in my life all those years growing up. “Could it have all been a lie?” I asked my mentor, the Rev. Annwn Myers. “Even when you slam the door shut in God’s face,” she told me, “leave the back door open or at least leave a crack in the window, so the breeze of the Holy Spirit can blow through.” I tried desperately to disconnect from God and the Church.
I stepped back from commitments at the college chapel. I attended atheist lectures. I tried my best to become a secular person. All the while something within me was drawing me back to God, like the undertow in the Gulf of Mexico on a red flag day all my struggling against the tide only seemed to pull me deeper into life in Christ. Yet, as I approached God, who was there with me the whole time, I felt a new gift of freedom. Instead of “having to believe” the same things as family or friends, I was able to experience God authentically from my own point of existence.

Through this freedom I felt called deeper into ministry with God in the Church. After college graduation, I applied for and received the position as the lay chaplain for undergraduates at Sewanee. In this placement I was able to “try on” ministry for three whole years. During this time I reaffirmed my baptismal vows at the Great Vigil of Easter, which was where I finally fully heard and accepted my call to the priesthood that Mrs. Sallie foretold ten years earlier.

At the Great Vigil I reaffirmed my baptismal vows and served as a Lay Eucharistic Minister. After receiving the bread and the wine I took my silver chalice to distribute this gift from God. As I approached the first person, I realized it was none other than Fr. Francis Walter, my childhood priest. He smiled the same grin that I remember from when he first gave me communion as a child. Pulling back the chalice after serving him I saw in the cup’s reflection all of the people gathered around the altar. “We are the chalice,” I thought, “We make up the Body and the Blood of Christ. We are Jesus Christ.” Whoa! I almost fell over with this simple, lighting bolt of God’s inspiration. Those gifts at the Table are important because we are important.


Since that moment on that Easter Vigil night I have been open to accepting the call to be a priest in God’s church. I finally heard what others had heard long before I did. After much discernment within myself, with committees, with friends, with family, with the Church, and with God, I am ready, or as ready as I will ever be for anything in my life. Tomorrow night I will kneel before Bishop Santosh to be ordained in God’s Church. I ask for your presence and your prayers. I will be made a priest, but the service is about us as a Church and God’s people. We are entering into a new ministry together and I hope that you will be there to celebrate.

Sitting At Jesus' Feet: Luke 10:38-42

Growing up I loved going over to other people’s homes for dinner. The church I grew up in had opportunities for eating together all the time, especially during the summer. Once a week the entire church was invited to come to what we called a “House Eucharist.” On Wednesday nights we would gather around the Lord’s Table in someone’s home, then we would gather around the host’s table to eat a potluck meal. I loved these meals so much that often I wanted to go early because I wanted to stretch out the fun! Of course, I was told by my mom that we could not show up early to a dinner party. For a while I accepted that we could not come early, as one of those “because I said so” type edicts that parents are allowed to make.

I gathered from our typical time of arrival that the unofficial rule for getting to a dinner party, at least in the South, is to show up about 10 minutes later than the stated start time. 

One day when I felt particularly impatient and felt particularly perturbed at this 10 minute rule, I asked my sister, the Grand Pu Bah of etiquette, why it was that we had to show up late for dinners. After asking the question, I expected to hear some old wife’s tale, a superstitious explanation, or a history lesson that linked to an ancient tradition, but instead she just said, "If you show up 10 minutes early to a party you are likely to see the host and/or hostess in their underwear running around with the vacuum in one hand and the chicken casserole in the other." I was speechless. Of course, now that I have hosted a few dinners of my own my sister’s words sound awfully familiar. Does this sound familiar to any of you? I can start prepping at dawn, but if I’m hosting an event at 6:00 in the evening from 5:45 to 5:59 I am running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I am occupied with many things.

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Mary has chosen the one thing, but what is the one thing? Is it just letting others do all the “Martha” work?

When I was in seminary my classmates and I would get together nearly every Friday night to cook dinner together. It was a great time of fellowship, fun, and food. My very good friend Susanna almost always volunteered to head up the cooking often working for hours on a meal for her friends. I had the habit of coming over right as all the hard work was done and asking, “Can I help?” Susanna would just look at me and say, “Nope.” So I would sit around with others, eating, drinking, and carrying on in fellowship. One time I confided in Susanna that I felt guilty that I didn’t help more with cooking meals. She turned to me and smiled explaining that she loved cooking meals for others, as it helped her to focus on one thing: serving her friends through creating something delicious that brought us all together. When I heard this I realized I was worrying about many things, whether I was helping, my guilty feelings, what others thought of me, instead of focusing on one thing.   

“Seth, Seth, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Susanna has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

I wonder about the meal we share in together every week at the Lord’s Table. Do we get distracted by many things? I know coming in this morning I was a bit nervous with Evan out of the country. Am I getting everything set up “right”? Are the flowers right on the altar? Did I turn on the sound system? Can I get everything checked off my list so God will show up? This last question makes me think of last week’s story of the Good Samaritan.

The priest and the Levite pass by the bloody man in the ditch, as it was part of their sacred responsibility that they not dirty their hands by touching an unclean person. They are following their duty, but they are missing the opportunity to serve someone in need. This week we hear of Martha who is fulfilling her “household duties” to host someone by completing her chores. With Martha we might be thinking, if I can just get all this completed, then God will love me. If I do exactly what a minister is bound to do, then God will love me. If we pray just right God will be worshipped.

Mary paints a picture of true worship. Mary is unbusy, she is present, and she is open. There is nothing on her to-do list except this moment of sitting with God. She becomes completely consumed with simply being with Christ. In this conversation she receives the words spoken by Jesus being completely open to what God is speaking in her life.

Certainly preparing for worshipping God is important. The flowers, the candles, the hymns, and the readings are all part of how we show our posture of praise. BUT, and this is a big but, if we become busy with completing these many things, then we miss one thing: that God is sitting with us right now and all we are asked to do is listen. This morning Jesus invites us to sit at his feet, to let go of the many things (the grocery lists, the Monday morning meetings, the chores around the house), to marvel at the beauty of this place, and to be together as God speaks in our hearts.