Ponder All These Things

Sunday, June 30, 2024

Jesus Offers Systemic Healing

Deputies from the Missional Diocese of Navajoland and the Diocese of South Dakota offer a prayer for the Innocents

2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27
Psalm 130
2 Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43

This sermon was preached at The Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL on Sunday, June 30th (the Sixth Sunday after the Pentecost — Proper 8B) and video of it may be found here.

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.

What a gift it is to be home! Thank you for loaning me out to the work of the wider Episcopal Church. General Convention 81 produced 393 resolutions, we elected the Rt. Rev. Sean Rowe of Northwestern Pennsylvania and Western New York to be the 28^thPresiding Bishop, the House of Deputies reelected our president Julia Ayala Harris, and my friend the Rev. Steve Pankey was elected to serve as Vice President of the same house. If you want to learn more about GC81 the resolutions, elections, worship, fellowship, and future of the Church join me starting next Sunday at 9:30 here in the nave. We will spend three Sundays unpacking General Convention, and I don’t mean my suitcase.

Have you ever noticed something that once you see it or experience it, you cannot go back? Maybe it is something small, like a kernel of corn stuck between your teeth that you just have to get out. Or, it’s a slightly off-kilter picture hanging in your living room that you simply have to fix. Or, perhaps it’s something more serious, like discovering that a child not far from where we are right now is going to bed hungry every night, or that citizens in our own state have no access to clean water, or that our denomination and especially our boarding schools have a sordid history with indigenous people. What do you do when you cannot brush a problem aside or quickly straighten the picture, so that things feel right again? How do you heal a broken system?

On the surface, today’s Gospel lesson appears to be two interwoven stories of Jesus’ power to heal individuals. However, there is more to these tales of salvation than meets the eye. Jesus’ interconnected restoration of a hemorrhaging woman and a religious leader’s daughter taken together point to something much larger at work. This Gospel lesson informs us that the systems in our world, like the people in our world, require God’s healing, and this restoration to wholeness emanates from trusting not in our own power, but in God’s perfecting love. Let’s dive deeper into this good news by focusing on these two instances of healing.

This lesson opened with Jesus crossing over again into Jewish territory. Immediately we realize this more fully as a synagogue leader named Jairus fell at Jesus’ feet begging him repeatedly and profoundly to help the leader’s daughter. I have no doubt that Jesus did heal a synagogue leader’s daughter—this is a literal understanding of the passage. And yet, at the very end of this entire passage we get a clue that points to a larger healing at work. Once Jesus healed Jairus’ daughter we learn that she was twelve years old. This is not an extra detail—remember Mark used as few words as possible, so every letter matters.

The number twelve possesses a profound power within the Jewish Tradition. It represents the twelve tribes of Israel, and when it is invoked it can be seen as a way of standing in for the People of God. In other words, when Mark utilized the number twelve talking about a synagogue leader’s daughter, he might not have just been describing her age, but the entire state of the People of Israel. If we make this interpretive leap, we can see that according to Mark, God’s People were suffering—even to the point of death. The offspring of a religious leader was dying—what a religious leader was producing was not thriving but lying on a death bed. Recall also that Mark wrote right after the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem, so many were wondering existential questions: What will happen to us as the People of God? What will come of this new way of Christ? How are we going to live?

This passage, of course, mentioned the number twelve another time too. The hemorrhaging woman had suffered for twelve years. She also represented the People of God. The way the sentence in Greek portrayed the woman is heart-breaking and poetic: “having suffered, having spent money, having not benefitted, and having gotten worse, having heard about Jesus, and having come from behind … then comes the long delayed main verb: she touched [Jesus’] garment.”[1] Long delayed in her healing—it finally comes, but not from the broken system. Her healing came from her faith in Jesus, and we see restoration materialize more fully when Jesus calls her daughter!

Put another way, the powerful in place objectified her and isolated her as religiously impure, then required her to spend her last coin without providing any relief or restoration. By the time she heard about Jesus coming she was so desperate. Still, she remained so hopeful and so faithful. She believed that healing would happen if she would just touch Jesus’ cloak. When she did Jesus used the familial description of daughter to inform her, she was a member of God’s family. In truth, Jairus believed like the bleeding woman did. Not that his daughter would be healed if he touched Jesus clothes, but that healing would abound if Jesus came into his house.

Do you see what Mark is doing here? He was pointing to the brokenness of the systems that were in place. This was not to say that Judaism was bad or wrong or that Jesus came to “fix” this errant religion. Rather, Mark was informing us that all systems will be broken if they have at their center the power of man! In this example, both those with access—a synagogue leader—and those without access—a bleeding woman—do not have the ability to be healed. The People of God are suffering—and not just long ago.

This week at General Convention, our deputation from Alabama was seated next to the deputation from Navajoland. This was quite a gift! Our siblings in Christ were part of several of the most moving moments all week. They were welcomed as a missional diocese—meaning they can finally elect their own indigenous priests to be raised up as bishop. They also, put forth a resolution remembering the innocent children who were taken from native tribes to be enrolled in Episcopal boarding schools. This included a prayer written by an indigenous deputy from the Diocese of South Dakota.

When this resolution came to the floor in the House of Bishops one rather old, white, male bishop stood to ask if he could change the language. He thought it sounded a bit clunky. At that moment, the bishop of Alaska, another white man, but one who has worked extensively with indigenous folk in his diocese, this bishop stood up and said, “Don’t you think we have been telling native people how to pray for long enough? Isn’t it time we listened to their prayers for a change!” At this the House of Bishops erupted in applause!

In the face of the systemic ills of this world, our state, our households, and our Church we may start to feel overwhelmed and think, how will we fix all this? Jesus will not say these words for another five chapters in Mark’s Gospel account, but it is worth mentioning how he answered a similar question, “Then who can be saved?” To this inquiry, Jesus responded, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”. All things are possible for God…

For God, in Jesus healed a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years—simply by her touching Jesus’ cloak…

For God, in Jesus raised Jairus’ daughter from death—just by telling that little girl to get up...

For God, in Jesus inspires us as a Church to confront the challenging chapters of our shared past…

For God, in Jesus all things are possible.

In our world it is easy to believe that things are impossible. We see all around us the signs of broken systems—problems too complex for us to see a solution. However, with God all things are possible. And in Jesus the healing of many starts with the healing of one. May we walk with Jesus into places where there is bleeding and death, so that the Holy Spirit may breathe new life. May we trust in God like the hemorrhaging woman and Jairus did. May we work with God to create systemic healing and restoration, so that all may be made whole. May each of us hear God calling us a son, a daughter, a child of God, like Jesus said to the bleeding woman. May we genuinely believe that with God all things are possible! Amen.

[1] David Schnasa Jacobsen. “Commentary on Mark 5:21-43” https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-13-2/commentary-on-mark-521-43-8 [published 6/20/2021. Accessed 6/27/2021].

Sunday, June 16, 2024

The Kingdom Comes Surprisingly

Where is the Kingdom of God surprising you?

1 Samuel 15:34-16:13
Psalm 20
2 Corinthians 5:6-10,14-17
Mark 4:26-34

This sermon was preached on the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 6B) at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles, Hoover, AL. Video for the sermon may be found here.

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.

The Kingdom of God is like… well, we will get there. Did you know that in today’s Gospel lesson we hear the only parables that we get on a Sunday this entire year? Shout out to my friend, Evan Garner for pointing that out on FaceBook. So, soak up these parables, my friends.

Parables serve as analogies that Jesus drew to help listeners—including us—decipher what God’s reign truly looks like. They aren’t exhaustive doctrinal statements, so much as they are roadsigns that point to the Way of Christ. I had a New Testament professor, the Rev. Dr. Jane Patterson, describe parables with her own analogy.

Dr. Patterson said that parables share their root word with parabola, that arch shape described in mathematics. Parables, she argued, have this shape too—they do not end in the same place where they start, so we have to move to receive them. Dr. Patterson then said the following:

Parables are similar to something that happens with my dog. She’s a good girl and loves catching popcorn. When I throw the popcorn it makes an arch, like a parabola that she has to watch, and for her to get the treat she has to move. Parables are similar. We have to move to get the treat—we have to shift our way of thinking, knowing, and being, so that we can more fully understand what treat Jesus has for us.

That’s right, Jesus has a treat for us too. Are we willing to pay attention and move to catch something worthwhile from these saying about the Kingdom of God?

Christ’s Reign or the Kingdom of God is often challenging to spot in our world. It’s not as loud as politicians clamoring, entertainers rocking, athletes performing, or everyday life persisting. In our midst though, God’s way is bursting through, like a sprout blossoming between the cracks on the sidewalk. God’s Kingdom pops up like a thunderstorm no meteorologist projected. Christ’s Reign emerges like an old friend making a surprise visit. And, I know this because it’s happened in my life.

When I was a junior in college, I was Mr. Religious at Sewanee. That’s not an actual title, but suffice it to say, I was heavily involved in all things related to All Saints Chapel. I was a sacristan, a small group leader, a regular at multiple services throughout the week, and even served on the call committee to find the next University Chaplain. At that time, I had a great group of brilliant friends, was running well for the Cross-Country team, and I was dating a woman from the camp I grew up attending. Then, everything came unraveled.

The person I was dating was unfaithful to me. I had a serious bike accident that left my face badly bruised. And, after some outreach trips to suffering parts of the world, I began to struggle with whether or not I believed in God. In that moment, to me there was no way that God’s Kingdom existed, and it certainly was not popping up everywhere. I was like a dog unmotivated to catch the popcorn or even move. Eventually, as I stewed in heartbreak and reflected upon all the suffering that persists in this world, I began to think that God must not exist.

Not wanting to be a phony, I went to the Associate Chaplain to quit my official positions as small group leader and sacristan. I scheduled a time to meet with the Rev. Annwn Myers (first female priest ordained in the Diocese of Mississippi) about stepping down from these roles. I sat in her beautiful office and told her all that had been happening. She listened compassionately.

After I had raged at God and lamented my heartbreak, we sat in quiet for a few moments. Then, Annwn told me that she had been in a similar place. She had doubts, even as a priest. She informed me that I don’t have to have a lot of faith and I can even rage at God. God can handle it. She told me that even if I slam a door in God’s face, God will still be there with me. All she asked was that I keep a window cracked, just a slight opening in my life, so that if God did show up I might see God.

I reluctantly agreed. I stayed on a sort of agnostic sacristan. I went to hear atheist speakers as well as Christian scholars the seminary had invited. I debated with friends. I dated someone new. All the while, imperceivable to me, God was working. God’s Kingdom was at work unnoticeable to me.

After my junior year, I traveled out in the Southwestern United States on a geologic expedition. The professor leading the trip, Dr. Bran Potter, was a devout man of faith who lived his beliefs more than speaking them. What we witnessed was God’s handiwork in the beauty of Creation. Science explained how it happened, but seeing the Grand Canyon, Canyonlands, Zion, and Arches (as well as many others) opened my eyes to see something much larger at work in our universe than just me.

The rest of the summer, I worked at the Yale Child Study Center, as I thought I wanted to be a child psychologist at the time. There researchers completed longitudinal studies looking at outcomes for children—and showed that more than prenatal exposure to drugs parental involvement was a determining factors in a child’s success. By the time I returned for my senior year, I had a much different perspective. Even if I had not fully grasped the treat that God was throwing my way, I was at least open to see where it was going. And, I was yearning to have my Heavenly Father involved in my life.

Throughout the next year, I reopened to God’s love, discerned and accepted a call to serve as college lay chaplain, and reaffirmed my baptismal vows with Dr. Bran Potter as my sponsor and the Rev. Annwn Myers as one of the priests. What was amazing though was not that I somehow managed to do all these things, but it was just how much of a passenger I was in this unfolding process! “The seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how,” is the way our Gospel for today puts it.

We may struggle sometimes to see God’s Kingdom at work all around us, but that does not mean God isn’t growing a garden right underneath our feet. We may not see Christ’s Reign at first, like a tiny mustard seed, but that does not mean that Christ is not there working in our midst. Annwn told me in that turning point conversation that all I needed was faith the size of a mustard seed. At that time, I don’t think I had even that much.

But, that is the beautiful thing about God’s mysterious ways and this journey we are collectively on as followers of Christ. Even when we have little or no faith—God is still faithful, God still believes in you, Christ’s Reign still germinates.

The Kingdom of God is like that—surprising, grace-filled, profound, and yet often undetectable. The Kingdom of God is like a spiritual retreat called Cursillo happening not on center stage, but in the woods of Navoo, Alabama at Camp McDowell. The Kingdom of God is like people from 50 states gracefully supporting our fellow Alabama Episcopalian, Lulu Gribbon in response to the terrifying shark attack she endured. The Kingdom of God is like a popup Vacation Bible School called Sawyerville, which appears out of nowhere in Hale County every summer. I bet you have caught glimpses of this kingdom too!

The growth of God’s Kingdom is not solely up to us—thanks be to God! Christ Jesus though challenges us to understand his in-breaking reign through parables that cause us to move. Although I did not know how God’s Kingdom was growing all around me, encouraging me to grow, I am thankful that it was. The Good News is that even when we struggle, God is with us, persisting. Even when we doubt, God believes in us. Even when we shrivel and are pruned, God is growing us. We may not always know how, but God’s Kingdom is vibrant, alive, and blossoming. May we move to receive the treat as we witness the beauty of Christ’s Reign here and now. Amen.

Sunday, June 2, 2024

Resurrecting Sabbath

Where do you find holy restoration?

1 Samuel 3:1-10(11-20)
Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17
2 Corinthians 4:5-12
Mark 2:23-3:6

This sermon was preached at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles on June 2, 2024 and a video of it may be found here.

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.

When I was about 10 years old, I accidentally practiced Sabbath. It was the summer time, and I had already attended my camp sessions, soccer camp, and the like. A good friend had spent the night, but he had to go home. It was a Saturday morning, and I had nothing to do. I went to my parents to figure out something to do, but that didn’t work. I was bored.

I was so bored that I said to my mom, “I am going to die of boredom.” Spoiler alert: I did not. Instead I tried to find something to do. There was nothing on TV. I had no new toys. I felt stuck. So, I did something unusual. I did nothing.

Well, I say I did nothing, I was looking out a big picture window in my childhood home. I saw birds soaring, squirrels bouncing, insects hovering—later the trees would sway as a thunderstorm rolled through. I cannot say that I enjoyed my accidental dabbling in Sabbath at the time, but nonetheless something in me shifted because of that experience. At that time I was not familiar with our Gospel lesson for today, but even then I was learning that though we humans are not made for the Sabbath, the Sabbath is made for us and for our healing.

Christians though normally do not uphold Sabbath as a laudable practice. This stems from those in the Early Church rejecting the Jewish mandate of a total prohibition of work, specifically on Saturday. When Christ came, early Christians argued, the ceremonial laws of the Old Testament had been fulfilled. And, while this makes theological sense, what our forebears did was throw the baby out with the bath water. Certainly, we do not need punitive laws restricting work—like how the Pharisees were deriding Jesus for his disciples’ picking the heads off of grains—and yet, we as human beings benefit greatly from intentional rest. Let’s examine some ways to incorporate Sabbath into your life, but first let’s clarify what Sabbath is and why it is useful.

The day known as Sabbath, which we inherited from our Jewish siblings is Saturday. According to Exodus 23:12 there was to be a complete prohibition on work. As Christians, we observe the Great Sabbath on Holy Saturday when Jesus either rested from his work of salvation. When Christians proclaimed that Jesus had fulfilled the law freeing them from following all the ceremonial bits of the Old Testament the religiously significant day became Sunday, the Day of Resurrection. Except to some Christians.

There are some Christians for whom Sabbath practices still apply. Seventh Day Adventists and a few other Christian groups still worship on Saturday. Plus, there are some called Sabbatarians (yes, that’s a real word) who still apply many of the Old Testament commandments about Sabbath in their own lives. These are typically Scottish and English Calvinists who have prohibitions on work deeming Sunday to be the Christian Sabbath. Even in our own culture many of us will recall a time when not much was open on Sundays because of “blue laws” meant to restrict activity on the Day of Resurrection.

Historically, these have been some practices of Sabbath within the Judeo-Christian Tradition. And yet, these do not seem to capture the essence of what Sabbath is or what it can be in our current age. When I say time is ____, how do you fill in the blank? Money, correct? Our culture often proclaims, cash is king and time is money, so let’s fill every second of every day with opportunities to earn more dollars. This is the way of our world. Now, I am not against work. Purposeful work, sometimes called vocation, is crucial to the health of our souls, but consumerism and capitalism have made it such that even most of our pastimes come with a price tag.

Want to watch something? It costs money. Want to go somewhere? That costs money too. Want to have a fun experience, like a concert or sporting event? These will cost you even more. And, if you think, well I will simply do something free like see how my friends are doing on social media, even here there is a cost. Often now, when you do not see a price tag associated with an app or service, the companies are making money off of you. You are the commodity that is being sold. Your information is being auctioned off to other businesses.

When the point of a system is to make money, then of course there will be insidious ways that people use to get an advantage. I am not against entertainment or events, nor do I think social media is without its merits, nor should we throw out capitalism off hand. Still, our relentless ways require an overhaul. Sabbath provides an alternative way. It is a salve in which holy rest provides for our entire selves—body, mind, heart, and soul—an opportunity to experience restoration.

The way I imagine Sabbath, it is a period of time, up to 24 hours, when we reset our lives, recalibrating our internal compass, such that we are attuned to God and God’s way of living, moving, and being on this journey of life. For some it may mean abstaining from screens, for others it may mean intentionally sitting down to enjoy a movie with the whole family. For some Sabbath might be taking a break from cooking, for others it may mean preparing a meal intentionally. What I am saying is there is no one way to sabbath.

With that said, here are 3 ways to help in establishing Sabbath times:

+Begin and end your Sabbath period in prayer. Ask God to help you to experience restoration.

+Prepare ahead of time for this time period. Those in the Jewish Faith will prepare all week to ensure that the Sabbath happens. This can be helpful too. For us to enjoy restoration requires to offload those nagging worries that may hound at us if we do not attend to them in some way ahead of time.

+Finally, be gentle and open. Sabbath is not a competitive endeavor. It is a gift God gives to us, even if we are not good at it. So, as you experiment with Sabbath be kind to yourself and open to how you might need restoration. One week it may be actually doing nothing. Another it might be reading something that fills your soul. Another it might be reconnecting with a soul friend.

Jesus tells us that Sabbath is not something we humans were made to excel in practicing. Regardless, God gifted us with Sabbath. God even modeled for us a period of rest when laying the foundations of Creation. When we follow in this way taking time to experience restoration of body, heart, mind, and soul we practice Sabbath. May we find times to rest, so that we may continue to work together to reveal Christ’s Reign already present among us. Amen.

Monday, May 6, 2024

Give Me Your Unconditional Love

Did you know the classic tune from Camp McDowell is a Donna Summer almost hit?

This sermon was preached at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles on Sunday, May 5th and video of it may be found here.

The title track off of Donna Summer’s 1983 album She Works Hard For The Money was a huge hit. It topped the Billboard R&B chart for three weeks and reached #3 on the Billboard Hot 100. It remains one of Summer’s most well-known tracks, played around the world and streamed tens of millions of times.

The second single off that same album was a commercial disappointment, only reaching #43 on Billboard’s pop list. I am sure Summer and Mercury Records were upset by the lukewarm reception of this track. However, the late Donna Summer would be happy to know that the youth of our diocese love this song, which is entitled, “Unconditional Love.” If you have been around a diocesan youth event, you may have heard it:

Don't take too long to find

True love transcends all time

That non-reacting, everlasting love

Give me, your unconditional love.

The kind of love I deserve

The kind I want to return.

Until a few years ago, I had no idea of the genesis of this classic camp hit. My friend and fellow former associate rector at All Saints, Charles Youngson, revealed the original singer of this song, and I was so confused. “’Unconditional Love’ was sung by Donna Summer? Like, ‘Bad Girls’ Donna Summer? ‘Last Dance’ Donna Summer?” After googling and going on Spotify to make sure Charles had not lost his mind, I explored a little more.

Discovering that this song had a less than stellar reception amongst critics and radio listeners alike actually did not surprise me. We prefer to put our energies into working hard (for the money) instead of receiving and giving unconditional love. This is true not just about Donna Summer’ songs, it is true throughout life. Of course, we in the Church love love.

We love talking about love. We love putting love in our mission statements—“At the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles, our mission is to… love Christ in every person”—but what do we really mean by unconditional love, transforming love, or in the Greek agape? Jesus in today’s Gospel lesson gives us some clues as to the immensity and the difficulty of participating in God’s love.

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love,” Jesus told this to his disciples on the night before he died. Sometimes we believe that God loves us because God is Our Heavenly Father (or Mother or Parent depending on your piety). However, that is getting things backwards. As a beloved friend once preached, “God doesn’t love us because God is our heavenly parent. [God] loves us because that’s who God is, and it is the love that God has for us that makes us God’s children—not the other way around.”[1]

Think about it this way, most of us probably believe deeply that we love our grandparents and parents, our children and grandchildren no matter what. We may even strive to practice unconditional love with them, so that when they hurt us profoundly, we still come back with the same unabashed affection. This is wonderful, and it’s another form of love, sometimes referred to as storgē familial love. Jesus was calling his disciples (and us) to abide in this agape love. This sounds great, but what does this love look like?

Agape is revealed in keeping Jesus’ commandment. What was Jesus’ commandment? To love one another as he loves us. [puzzled look] Okay, I know. This is as though we are walking through an M.C. Escher painting in which we reach the top of the stairs only to realize we are back at the bottom. Jesus’ words are a bit circuital. He essentially says: “Love one another as I have loved you. Do this by abiding in my love. You will know that you are dwelling in my love if you follow my commandments. What are my commandments? Oh wait, there’s just one and it is to love one another.” Oh, Jesus!

This snake eating its tail sort of logic is frustrating; however, digging deeper into what Jesus meant by this love may leave us even more frustrated, or at least more challenged! After Jesus told his disciples that his commandment was to love one another he gave them a real-world example of this: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” We sometimes bypass these words too quickly, so let me read them again, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Jesus not twenty-four hours later lived these words out—or perhaps better said, he laid his life down to prove these words perfectly true.

How do we even attempt to live into this sort of love? That same friend I mentioned earlier also pointed out that there are two surprises within these challenging words.[2] The first is right in front of us: Laying down one’s life for another is not simply an act of ending one’s mortal life.

Another sort of “martyrdom” exists. We celebrate this example in the Church Calendar when we put up white liturgical hangings for Saints’ feast days. These Saints did not die because of their faith, instead they lived for it. In the musical Hamilton the character of George Washington put it more simply, “Dying is easy, living is harder.” John in a passage from his First Letter that we read a few weeks ago expanded this concept even further. When we sacrifice resources, we would otherwise use and give to God’s work in this world here too we are laying down our lives. So, this is the first surprise—the agape love of giving up ourselves is not just about death, it happens any time we sacrifice for God’s work in this world.

The second surprise is undetectable in our English translation. The sentence “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” is much more interesting in the original language. The word for friends is philos and there is a specific type of friendly or brotherly love in the Greek, it’s philia (see: Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love). So, is that what Jesus said? NOPE! Jesus used another word for love, and it is—you guessed it—agape!

Why is this important? It would have put those listening to this Gospel on notice. To truly follow Jesus’ commandment, to abide in him, to be his friend is not about brotherly love—love that is complementary or a mirror response to how someone else treats us. Instead, it is about agape—that non-reacting, everlasting love. Alright, again this all sounds nice, but what’s this look like, laying down our life for someone else? For example, how do we live in love when we have conflict with someone else? Well, how did Jesus live or as the famous bracelet asks, “What would Jesus do?”

Jesus was not a doormat. He was not a pushover. He pushed over tables in the Temple. He told people no. He even said to his own family, you are not my family—those who do my Father’s will are. He stopped healing people in one town, so that he could share his message elsewhere. He paused for prayer. He loved his enemies, but by challenging them. And in these and many other ways, he showed us an example of being “boundaried” in our approach to dwelling in God’s love and sharing it with others. Jesus set limits even as he expressed God’s limitless love.

So, maybe living in agape is not so much about being pushovers, running ourselves ragged, and completely exhausting ourselves, but instead it is about finding times and places to fill our cup with God’s love, like Jesus did in prayer. So that then, that love overflows from us to others, like Jesus did in truly seeing and healing others. And yes, God calls us to give sacrificially of ourselves, but in ways that enrich our lives and others—not just for the sake of suffering. Jesus did not die just to die, he died so that we may live in love.

Remember you are a beloved creature of this love, and not a robot that can work without rest and restoration. God’s love is not an invitation for others to take advantage of us or hurt themselves. God’s love is not a mythical “perfect love” that does not exist in real life.

God is always more ready to give us this gift than we are to receive it. Some moments we will dwell in this love and it will emanate from us to others. Other times we will be broken vessels that leak the little bit of agape we feel like we have inside. In all these moments may we not shame ourselves or tear each other down for that only prevents us from seeing God’s way of love.

In the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, we see this way:

-the transfiguration of human weakness by God’s strength

-non-reacting, everlasting love as a response to violence

-the trappings of death gone and the tomb empty

In this way, may we sing with Donna Summer and the youth of our diocese:

Give me, your unconditional love.

The kind of love I deserve

The kind I want to return.

And when it feels hard to return that love to those with whom we disagree or have conflict, may we rely upon God to sustain us, as we set good boundaries, trusting that in the end God’s resurrecting love will make us all one! Amen.

[1] Evan D. Garner, “To Love As We Are Loved,” [http://evandgarner.blogspot.com/2018/05/to-love-as-we-are-loved.html, posted: May 6, 2018, accessed: May 5, 2021].

[2] Garner, “To Love As We Are Loved,” [http://evandgarner.blogspot.com/2018/05/to-love-as-we-are-loved.html, posted: May 6, 2018, accessed: May 5, 2021].

Sunday, April 28, 2024

I Am the Vine, You Are the Branches

"I am the vine, you are the branches." This is the only I am statement in John, which has a you are clause with it.

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

Every Monday morning from 10 to 11 A.M. for almost three years of my life I sat in a gorgeous office. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with volumes on Theology, Contemplative Prayer, Holy Scripture, Fishing, and Canoe Building. Gigantic peach, tan, and cream sandstone blocks lined the exterior of the office, and several picture windows provided views of the outside world—where students were walking to class. From where I sat, I gazed upon the dogwood and Japanese maple trees sitting outside—ever changing with the seasons. Inside the office, something else was changing.

The 10 o’clock Monday morning meetings were with my mentor—Sewanee’s University Chaplain the Rev. Tom Macfie. At the time, I was the university’s lay chaplain, so we talked about our shared work, and he guided me through conversations about discernment. While God had called me in many other times and places, it was there in that office that I felt God confirming my call to ordained ministry through the support of a guiding presence. Of course, this sort of careful listening can also reveal truths that I did not want to see.

Many Monday mornings, Tom and I spoke of our prayer practices. A trend emerged after about a year of working together. Every few weeks one of us mentioned that our daily prayer practices were going GREAT! It was not necessarily a boast, but it was not always humble either. Almost always the next week that person would have to admit that the same prayer practices had faltered. At first, neither Tom nor I thought much about it, but overtime an insight emerged.

Seeing this pattern—solid prayer time, humble bragging, and a resulting setback—we noticed in this theme God inviting us not to give up, but to go deeper, or perhaps better put, to be deeper. Today, Jesus tells us that every branch that bears fruit the Father prunes to make it bear more fruit. Our life with God, our prayer practices, and our walk of Faith possess both growth and pruning, so that we may bear more fruit. And yet, through the ups and downs of life what matters most is not success or failure, but instead abiding with God, being with God as God is with us.

This challenges us. We often think in terms of growth. Ponder for a moment your career, your knowledge base, or your retirement portfolio over the course of time. What does that ideally look like? It may appear as a line with an arrow pointing up into the future. Now, maybe this is how we envision growth happening, however most of life does not develop in this way. Why is that? Because that is not how we grow!

There’s a helpful concept from the Living Compass—a training that develops holistic wellness in the lives of individuals and congregations. This wisdom is the J-Curve. When we yearn to grow, often we do well at first, then we experience a setback, if we stick with it, usually we grow. This pattern largely takes the shape of a J. What about in our lives of prayer? I know for me this shape is mostly true when measured in time and intentionality. However, there’s a deeper truth here too.

God abides with us more intimately than we will ever perceive, know, or can even imagine. How can one track growing closer to the One who is closer to us than ourselves? At the same time, God exists more transcendently beyond us than we can fathom. Having a relationship with God who dwells in and beyond us will leave us baffled. This means that our relationship with the Divine does not track easily, like a linear graph, which means we cannot expect that relationship to grow exponentially.

During times when we presume that we’re responsible for our closeness with God, we often fail, as I learned during those meetings with Tom. When we come to church, take time to pray, give to God’s work in the world, and serve our neighbors, then we may think we get a gold star, like a child might for attending Sunday School. We mistakenly believe we are the reason our spiritual life is trending upward. The Book of Proverbs reminds us that pride goes before destruction. Even here though, there is good news: not in the pride, but in the pruning.

New fruit comes from God’s pruning—perhaps you learned this more clearly during the last four years. During difficult moments when we choose to live in the love of Christ, God stimulates growth. Our spiritual lives, our life in Christ, will not emulate a line graph, but rather the messiness of garden. There will be dirt. There will be sunny days. There will be downpours. There will be heat. There will be growth. There will be weeding. And all the while we will be tempted to figure out exactly where we are, like I tried to do during those sessions with Tom, but that is not what God calls us to do.

God doesn’t call us to do at all. What God calls us into is abiding. In each of the readings for today we discover this true task of our lives. It is not for us to quantify or score how well we are relating to God. Rather in each of these readings we hear the call to abide in God and God’s love, as God and God’s love abide in us.

The Ethiopian eunuch whom Philip baptized in Acts did not simply read Holy Scripture. He felt the Holy Spirit drawing him to abide in God more deeply. When he saw water, he yearned to dwell in the life of Christ, so Philip baptized him.

In this Psalm, the author desired to praise God in the great assembly. All are called to dwell in God. All are called to remember the Lord. Even those asleep in the earth shall bow down in worship. For all of our souls, like the author’s, shall live for God, as we abide in God.

The Letter from John, one which we often read at the Blessing and Celebration of a Marriage, reminds us that God is love and we are God’s beloveds. Our lives are to be solely focused on living out of this beloved/loving state. However, because of the association with marriage we may only focus on the emotion of love. John though tells us this love encompasses something even more tremendous than the feeling of love. God loved us first. God loves us fully. God loves us eternally. When we abide in this love, throughout life and especially during difficult times, we will emanate this same love to others.

John’s Gospel account seals this life-long call to live in the love of Christ with an analogy. Here we find the only “I am” statement in John that comes with a “you are” clause attached. “I am the vine, you are the branches.” We bear fruit not on our own, nor by our merit, nor by working harder, but by living together in Christ. While other bits of John’s Gospel account grab more attention, this challenge to abide in God resonates so powerfully to the Church of today. 63 times throughout his letters and his Gospel account this word abide appears. We would do well to proclaim this more often. Why?

We live in a world that obsesses over productivity or rather what we produce—not unlike what I was thinking at those Monday morning meetings. Our society tells us, it is up to you to have a good life. And sadly, the Church follows suit. It is up to me to earn my way into God’s grace, God’s love, and God’s heavenly kingdom. So, we hear things like you must go to church, pray every day, and avoid sin. We even hear that if you do not believe you will go to hell. Being a follower of Christ Jesus was not, is not, nor will it ever be about doing something to earn the love of God. God already loves you. God abides in you no matter what. You cannot hit a higher mark on this line graph. Instead, we are called to recognize what is already present.

God loved us first. Through the love of Christ—seen in his life, death, and resurrection—we observe the depth of God’s love for us. That is why we are so beloved. And, as we exist as God’s beloveds we are called to share this same life-giving love with others. It’s not about saying a certain prayer—it’s about reflecting what’s already there!

May we always remember that we are God’s beloved branches, connected to Christ our vine. When we face challenges, setbacks, and pruning may we recognize new growth, which will follow. And most of all, may we abide in Christ and reflect his life-giving love, which made us and makes us whole. Amen.