What is left when God burns us up?

Here's a link to the audio from the sermon August 18, 2013:
http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3179692/VN810130.MP3

Ignatius of Loyola: Imitating Christ, Made in the Image of God

Today's Epistle reading comes from Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians (1031-11:1):

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God. Give no offense to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God, just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, so that they may be saved.

Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.

That last line gets me going a little bit. Paul tells those reading this letter that the way to be like Christ is to be like him. Wow! Isn’t that presumptuous. Of course, typically when we have such a reaction to some negative trait in someone else, that typically means that we possess that same characteristic somewhere within ourselves. Put simply, if you spot it, you got it. Even if this is true, and I am presumptuous, isn’t it a bold statement for Paul to say, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”?

Well, it might seem easy to sit back and criticize Paul for being a bit full of himself from our perspective, but honestly, as we have been reading 1 Corinthians in the Rector’s Bible Study with Evan, I have found myself liking and respecting Paul more and more. At the time the people in the church of Corinth were WILD! They were having affairs with their step mothers, they were having separate celebrations of the Eucharist, which negates even having COMMUNION in the first place, and they were getting drunk and going to church. At this point in his letter, he is summing up a major point he has been making, namely, “whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God” AND “Give no offense” to others, “so that may be saved.” 

Honestly, this recaps what Paul is trying to pass on to the Corinthians. Do everything for the glory of God and do nothing that offends others causing them to stumble on the path toward God. He has been addressing various concerns throughout his letter: Don’t eat food sacrificed to idols. You may know that there really are no other gods, but someone else might stumble because of what you do. Don’t drink heavily before coming to church, sure you may be able to handle your wine, but others will get the wrong impression. Don’t start communion without others, this defeats the whole purpose of coming together. In each of these examples we might get caught up in Paul saying “don’t,” but truthfully it is not about his prohibition on certain actions, rather it is about the intention Paul has behind these actions.

Contained within Paul's example is his intention to imitate Christ. We have different issues within our community than the people of Corinth. Still we seek examples of how we might be imitators of Christ. Even thinking of this is a bit intimidating. How will we ever imitate Christ? When I started to think, “How do we imitate Christ?” I looked at the word imitate and found myself thinking of a connected word: image. We are made in the image of God. This is good news. We are formed through Christ in God’s image. Still it is helpful for us to find clear examples of how to become vibrant images of Christ.

We have the white altar hanging set up just like last week when we celebrated the example of Thomas A Kempis. Again we are celebrating another of “God’s All-Stars” who lived his life in such a way that the Gospel was made clearer. Today we remember Ignatius of Loyola. Ignatius was born into a noble Basque family in Spain and fought as a knight seeking worldly glory. When injured during the Battle of Pamplona in 1521, he was forced to recover and during this time he had a conversion experience that shifted the trajectory of his life to aim straight towards God.

He went on retreat and discerned a call to ordained ministry, so he moved to Paris where he studied. There he met others who together founded the Society of Jesus, now known as the Jesuits. For the rest of his life, Ignatius lived in immense poverty, often praying seven hours a day in a cave. His book Spiritual Exercises has provided a spiritual framework for many to find God in their everyday life. It can be difficult to look at the life of someone who turned away from the comfort of their noble birth to live in poverty praying half of their waking hours. Even to someone who spent the last three years praying the daily office that seems unrealistic.

Our call though is to be imitators of Christ. This is not easy work. Perhaps we imitate Christ like Paul did, by encouraging others who were just starting off on their Christian journey. Maybe we are like Ignatius and we use our wealth to empower the weak. Or, perhaps we find the example of another person in our lives to be the best way to imitate Christ. We are made as Children of God, but we are challenged to open up to how God is making us more Christ-like. How will we be imitators of Christ?

We are made in the image of God, we are called to imitate Christ, and we are strengthened when we become Christ’s Body together. Amen.

Saints' Trading Cards: Luke 6:17–23

Today we celebrate the life of Thomas à Kempis. Protestants often get a little squeamish when we start talking about Saints. Are they closer to God than the average Christian? What about grace? Does that make everyone a Saint? As an Episcopalian, I know that my tradition's theology around Saints sometimes appears as clear as "looking through a glass dimly" to borrow Paul's words. Even after theological training and much time spent with Lesser Feasts and Fasts and Holy Women, Holy Men, both books celebrating Saints throughout the ages, I struggle to come up with the best definition of who a Saint is. Fortunately, I do not have the privilege to serve on some committee to say who is really a Saint and who is merely a saint.

Yet if someone did make the mistake of putting me in charge of discerning who belonged in a book like Holy Women, Holy Men I would stray from thinking that those to be recognized as Saints need to have two credible miracles to their name. Rather, I would wonder does this person follow the way of Christ Jesus and make the Gospel known and real to people in their unique time and location. Certainly this working definition sounds nice in this sermon, but maybe it does not hold up throughout the ages. Perhaps an analogy would work better though.

As a child, I was not all that into baseball cards, but I had friends who were. I can remember they would scour through plastic packaging searching for a prized rookie's or an all-star's special edition card. When they found it they were so very happy. They would put it in a plastic case or a book of cards. Then they would return to it every once in a while to admire it and to get inspired by it to go play that sport. Maybe the Saints are like that for us. I really do not think God has a special section of Heaven reserved for the VIPs, but maybe Saints are those folks that we get so excited about that we rip through the packaging so as to know them more intimately and to try and live our lives with God like them. One of those worth searching out in the "Saints' trading cards" is Thomas à Kempis.

Thomas was a man who lived in the late Middle Ages. He was the most well known author of the medieval age, although his book The Imitation of Christ may only be something that he compiled. Nevertheless, à Kempis after being educated as a young man, took on vows as an Augustinian monk, then later as a priest before he became a sub-prior in about the year 1425. From then until his death in 1471, he lived with the Order of the Brethren of the Common Life who took on a practical, rather than speculative, rule of life that was based on the Bible. Both lay and clergy members focused on living a pious life doing inner work and learning the virtues. Much of what elevates à Kempis as one to emulate is that he lived the Gospels out in his everyday life within this community and showed that one could connect with the life of Christ in Scripture, then complete action in the world. This countered the notions of the day that one had to pay a penance for God's love by giving money to the Church. As he shared his love of Christian virtues, his writing, and his life of discipline with the world in the location and time when he lived, to me he appears a Saint.

Thomas à Kempis took seriously the pursuit of the blessings from Jesus’ Sermon on the Plains (no it was not delivered in Auburn, AL). In his monastic life he took on a rule of life that made him poor, hungry, sorrowful, reviled, excluded and defamed on account of Jesus Christ. Yet, as he chased after Luke’s description of the beatitudes he found himself blessed. Really, we can do this too, and we do not even have to take a vow of poverty, silence, or celibacy.

Christ Jesus invites us to shape our lives and the lives of our families around the virtues. We can come in contact with the blessed poor, hungry, weeping, reviled souls and through this contact we become more saintly. When we share what we have been given by God with others, our lives transcend into something more saintly. When we say the Daily Office, like Thomas we are formed as more virtuous Christians. Certainly, we are all Saints, but I feel inspired that we can make known Jesus' Good News in this day and age, so that one day someone is ripping through packaging to seek out our Saints' trading cards.

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.

I.D. Please!

When you leave the house everyday what forms of identification do you take with you? Or maybe a better question is: how is it that people recognize you? Is it by your driver's license or passport? Does it happen by a retinal scan, voice recognition, or fingerprinting? Can someone you've never met know you by the way you sign your name? Well, I remember in high school watching a television program about signatures and what they tell us about who we are. This show was on ESPN, so primarily the Graphologist (that is someone who studies handwriting) used the large swooshes and little zig-zags of professional athletes to demonstrate what one's "John Hancock" says about who one truly is. In a distinctly nerdy way, the graphologist traced every curve of a certain wide receiver's signature. The scribbles shot out demonstratively in all directions and yet somehow pointed back upon the illegible name. The professor of handwriting explained that this signified the athlete's self-centered nature, perceived self-importance, and over-sized ego. As I remember this TV show, and when I think about photo IDs, fingerprints, and eyeball scans, I wonder how much can be determined about who we are by any of these identification methods. So if none of these ways work, how do we identify to others who we are? How do we signify our true identity?

In today's Gospel the Risen Lord himself has a difficult time being identified by his followers. Maybe he did not want to be known, but for most of Luke's story Cleopus and his friend have no idea that they are talking with the risen Christ. Part of me has a hard time believing this, but I have never encountered a person who has recently been resurrected from the dead. So after the disciples have revealed to Jesus that the women have seen the empty tomb, he says to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" Surely at this point the disciples will see who is speaking with them, but no. Then from the ancient prophets, Jesus opens up the scriptures to reveal himself within them. Perhaps it was the hot sun beating down upon the road to Emmaus, or maybe it was just the shock and grief over losing Jesus three days earlier, but Christ's teaching goes in one ear and out the other. "Hello? McFly? Is anyone in there?" might be our response. Yet what we later find out is that it resonates in their hearts. Still these two disciples are unable to ID Jesus. It's as if he is standing with his Passport, which reads "Kingdom of God" on it, but Cleopus and his friend are staring in the other direction. However, something within their heart pushes the disciples to invite this mysterious teacher to stay with them.

As Jesus comes to the Table with Cleopus and his friend, he takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. In this moment Jesus' true identity is revealed. By doing what was done only three days earlier at the last supper, his friends recognize Jesus as the Christ. Taking, blessing, breaking, and giving gives away Jesus. In the Resurrection Jesus looks different, so when he comes back his actions, not his appearance, give him away. When he is together with these friends at the Table there is no mistaking who is there and what is happening, but in that instant of recognition Jesus vanishes from their sight. Poof! He's gone! As they recount the events of the journey the disciples' hearts burn. They knew Jesus' identity all along, but not in their minds.

While it was not stooping down to write his signature, in John’s gospel, Jesus bends down to write in the sand. I wonder what a graphologist would tell us about Christ’s handwriting. Was it simple and plain, mysterious and complicated, sophisticated and beautiful? Does it tell us who Christ is? Regardless of what it looked like, we probably would not know Christ by his signature. However, we know Christ in the breaking of the bread. When we come to this Table together we know the identity of our Lord. Maybe we catch a glimpse of Christ at the rail, or we see him in the eyes of the Eucharistic Minister, or when we hold the bread in our hands we might see God Incarnate, but in that moment of recognition Jesus vanishes from our sight.

So we come back week in and week out looking for Jesus here, but maybe we come looking for something else too. I think when we come to eat with Christ at the Table we also get a glimpse of our true identity. That is to say that when we kneel or stand right here at the Table we find not so much who we are, but whose we are AND who dwells with us in this community. Not our signatures, nor our identification cards, and not even our fingerprints truly tell us who we are. It is instead gathering to hear God’s word, to receive God’s healing, and to share in God’s Supper that we truly find ourselves. He is made known to us in the breaking of the bread and that is where we become known to ourselves.

The Complicated Life of American Christians

From the beginning the Church and the United States of America have had an intertwined yet complicated relationship. The first bishop in what would be the Episcopal Church, Samuel Seabury, was also a mapmaker and chaplain for the redcoat (British) troops. Framers of the U.S. Constitution and drafters of the Canons of the Episcopal Church met in the same place to develop the laws that govern these bodies. Even the celebration of Independence Day was stopped in the Church from the late 1700s until 1928 because so many clergy in the Episcopal faith were from Great Britain, and it was hurtful for them to celebrate their defeat in the Revolutionary War. With all of these ties understanding how Church and State relate seems like a difficult task. However, on this Independence Day I wonder how we might be good American Christians?

Turning to Scripture assigned to Independence Day in the Lectionary gives us some hints as to how we might have allegiance to God and allegiance to country. Deuteronomy, a book filled with law that assisted the Israelites to be a nation dedicated to God states:

"The LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. You shall fear the LORD your God; him alone you shall worship; to him you shall hold fast, and by his name you shall swear. He is your praise; he is your God, who has done for you these great and awesome things that your own eyes have seen" (10:17-21).

To the Israelites to be dedicated to God and Nation meant welcoming in orphan, widow, and stranger, providing them food and clothing. This connected back to when they were strangers in Egypt, being held captive. They remembered this hardship, so to remind them that life was not so easy as slaves. God delivered them, so if they are to be a nation dedicated to God, they can help others who need sustenance, shelter, and support. When my ancestors first came to the United States of America it was seven generations ago, and they needed support from ones who came before them. They turned to the Presbyterian Church in Birmingham, AL and they found care. So one way to be a good Christian in America means that we provide support for those in need who feel like a stranger in this place.

Turning to Matthew's gospel we find more direction on what it might mean for us to be good American Christians. Matthew 5:43-48 states:

"Jesus said, 'You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.'"

I have had the chance to travel abroad a few times on mission trips, and the first item I pack for the journey is my United States of America passport. Without it I could not travel into another country, nor could I get home. Recently I was introduced to the idea that we have another passport too. We have a passport as a citizen in the Kingdom of God. This passport might be more important on that packing list. It might also be one that requires more work than being a citizen in the USA. In this passage from Matthew, Jesus lays out one requirement of this Kingdom living. We are asked to love our enemies. Many times in my own life I am very bad at this. I see someone who looks different than me, talks different than me, cheers for a different team than I do, and immediately I shut them out. As citizens of the USA we tend to believe that we are the best, but our task as citizens of the Kingdom of God is to love our neighbor and our enemy. To treat all we meet as if they are Jesus himself.

This is not easy work. We will probably not get it right all of the time, yet we have each other and we have God to support us in living perfectly as our heavenly Father. Our challenge this Independence Day is to hold fast to our dual citizenship as both Americans and Christians.

Let's Go Far: Luke 9:51-62

Introduction: Cross-country Spikes and an African Proverb

On the inside of these cross-country spikes at the start of my senior season of college, I wrote several motivational lines. One of them was the first half of an African proverb, which goes “If you want to go fast, go alone.” AND let me tell you, I went soooo fast during my final handful of races. During that season I lowered my personal best by a minute and a half for the 8 kilometer race, and while I ended the season as my team’s top performer, I did so by forgetting my teammates, and the second half of that wise African phrase. When I found these shoes during my recent move to Decatur, I didn’t get stuck on the first half of the proverb that I written, but rather the second part that was left unwritten, ”If you want to go far, go together.” If you want to go far, go together.

As we start this shared ministry together, we begin a new journey, and we can choose to go fast one by one in 200 different directions, or we go together and go far. However; we are not the only ones traveling on a new journey today. In this morning’s gospel, Luke makes clear that Jesus himself is setting off on a new journey, setting his face to Jerusalem, to the Cross, and to the Resurrection. Now this time of year we might all be going on different trips, like to the beach, to camp, to the mountains, on business, for family reunions, or just to get away. Whenever I travel I tend to make a packing list of some sort to prepare my way for the excursion. This morning I am wondering: What do we need for our new journey together? What is on our packing list? What is going to be in our proverbial suitcase? Perhaps the start of Jesus’ journey will provide us with some insight. Of course, at the top of the list will be each other.   

Jesus Starting the Journey

Next week we will hear more about items that Jesus would not put on a packing list when he sends out seventy disciples who take nothing on their journey: not a purse, not a bag, not even sandals. This morning though, we hear about Jesus sending messengers ahead and meeting would be followers as he goes. In both cases we can learn something about what Jesus expected from those who would journey with him.

Messengers

          Jesus sends some messengers to a village of Samaritans. Now, as a result of the parable of the Good Samaritan we might think that all Samaritans treated their neighbors kindly, picked up the injured, and cared for strangers they met, but really Jesus told that story, which we will hear next month in the lectionary, so that his disciples might actually see Samaritans as people too. Typically, Samaritans were the type of individual that would not welcome you under their roof, that would kick you when you were down, that were to be avoided at all costs. So in today’s gospel when the Samaritans are inhospitable to Jesus and his messengers, it seems a somewhat natural reaction that the disciples James and John express their anger. However, they want to express that anger by calling down fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans. Jesus rebukes them, according to some ancient texts saying, “You do not know what spirit you are of, for the Son of Man has not come to destroy the lives of human beings but to save them.” If we are traveling with Jesus then, we need not pack the ways that we burn and put down others along the way, but rather a different spirit.

          The first thing that we bring with us on the journey, after bringing each other, is knowledge of the Truth that Jesus comes to save the Lost. We might believe that we are not prone to get lost, and that we don’t need help with directions. Since moving to Decatur I have been circling my supposed destination a few times unable to exactly pinpoint where I am going. In those times I am typically too stubborn to ask for directions, but it can be amazing when I do.

When I feel lost I turn to the spirit through prayer and meditation. Often it is as simple as sitting with God quietly listening for directions in the morning, or maybe it’s by journaling that God lays out the map for us, or through conversation with a good friend that we hear God’s whispering which way to move next. When I feel most lost the way for me to find my way is to come together with others. Whether in conversation, in prayer, or in leisure we can find our way more easily if we travel together. If you want to go far, go together, right? Now, what else do we pack on this new journey?

Would Be Followers

When Jesus moves on towards another village from the Samaritans he encounters three different would be followers. In these interactions we discover more for our journey’s packing list. Someone comes up to Jesus and says, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replies telling this person that foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head. I don’t think Jesus is telling us to become homeless, but rather that when we walk with Christ sometimes that journey is a lonely one, and even our homes do not feel so comfortable. We will live our lives differently than others and often that means rejection from those who do not understand. Loving our neighbors, forgiving those who sin against us, and finding the lost often runs against the cultural grain. So as we start this journey we will need to pack a resolve to stay with Christ even when rejected, neglected, or lonely.

The next two encounters are very similar with Jesus’ invitation of “Follow me” being delayed for one person to bury the dead and another to say goodbye to one’s family. We might find it hard to understand Jesus’ responses in both cases:“Let the dead bury the dead,” and “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” One friend refers to Jesus in this part of Luke’s gospel as “mean Jesus,” but truthfully as we start out on this journey with Jesus he is not asking us to ignore the concerns of this world (our families, our work, and our friends). Rather, Jesus asks us to live in this world primarily as followers of Christ. We are to pack a heightened sense of discipleship for our journey, so that everything we do is done for Christ, in Christ, with Christ. Every step we take we take for Christ, towards Christ, with Christ. Our journey is to come together with one another to become the Body of Christ, to live and to breathe, to walk and to talk, to serve and to be as that Body of Jesus Christ. What Jesus would have us pack for the journey is a sense of discipleship, that we are truly his followers and that we are invited to walk with him on our journey together.

Conclusion: Let's Go Far   

Today we start something new, we take our first steps together in this new ministry and I am really excited. From today’s gospel we find a packing list that asks us to take a spirit to find the lost, a resolve to endure living our lives against the grain, and strong discipleship following Christ. There will be times when we will feel lost, when we take the wrong turn, when we lose the spiritual map, when we are running short on food, or when we just want to go off on our own. And if I had to guess, we can make it a few steps as individuals, but even if we each have all the supplies on our packing list we cannot trek on our own. Rather, it is when we walk together that we walk as the Body of Christ. This is what excites me about our journey, when we come together we are the Body of Christ and we can make any voyage.

If we want to go fast, go alone, but if we want to go far let’s go together! Amen.