Pentecost 9 (12C) July 25, 2010
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
Hosea 1:2-10
Psalm 85
Colossians 2:6-15, (16-19)
Luke 11:1-13
“(Re)petition and prayer”
+Most of are pretty well skilled at avoiding responsibility. Sometimes the best course is delay. Procrastination, putting it off until later, is a good technique; or there is claiming we don't understand. A friend claimed he could not cook. He said he would starve if he had to rely on his own hands to fix a meal. He had a degree in chemistry; my guess is that he could cook; maybe not well, but he could cook. It was easier to claim he couldn’t.
The Gospel passage we heard this morning is about prayer. To avoid thinking about it, to avoid taking responsibility we make it more difficult that it really is. If a child asks you how to pray, my guess is that you would have something to say. It might even be to teach the words of the Lord’s Prayer. Retreats and reflections on nature and means of prayer are productive and helpful; but often we make it more difficult that it really is.
Here in Luke and in a similar passage in Matthew’s account of the Gospel, Jesus gives us a prayer and, in a few words, teaches us about the nature of praying. So when we are inclined to make the matter more difficult, when we are embarrassed, perhaps we can turn to the lesson of our Master. It is not so difficult if we listen.
Put to one side our petitions and intercessions, those prayers in which we ask for something. Often if someone speaks of the power of prayer they are talking about a specific request of God. I have experienced the miraculous; but that is not what I am concerned about this morning. The experience of a prayed for recovery against all rational expectation is profound and stirs the soul. Still, this morning I am not initially concerned about our own petitions or our intercessions on behalf of others. I am more concerned about the role of prayer in shaping who we are.
The disciples ask for words, for a form of prayer, just as John the Baptizer gave to his followers. Jesus indulges them; but he does more with the two little parables. Listening carefully I hear him teaching me not just about how to pray but also why we pray and the effect of prayer on my own condition.
There is a clue in the end of the passage. He says that if we do these things God will surely not withhold his Holy Spirit from us. Here is the result. Put it another way. We affirm that we abide in the presence of God, in the presence of the love of God in Christ. It is what we are about when we come here for our thanksgiving. It is why we seek to be fed. We want to know the presence of God. It changes us and makes us whole. This is our healing and the Gospel’s promise of what is to come. We seek to be in the presence of his love and grace and mercy of God. God will not withhold his Holy Spirit from us.
In the Rule and tradition of Benedict prayer is about claiming that presence. It is described as remembering God. We pray to remember that God is in our presence. When we do so we are changed and realize that we have all been made new.
If this is our goal, then what are the means? Jesus teaches us here as well. He calls us to perseverance. Some call this quality of insistence, or perseverance, a gift of God; but in this passage it also sounds like a choice. Persistence counts. We know that we are formed by repetition. We learn to play an instrument or to play a sport by doing it over and over again. If we practice, over time this skill becomes a part of who and what we are.
Jesus tells this story of the neighbor who wakes you up at 2 in the morning asking for bread. The point of the story is that a single knock may elicit a nasty response and being told to go away; but with perseverance, with insistence you, the one being bothered will get up, if only to finally get some sleep. We hear the story from the perspective of the one petitioned but in the context of the prayer he gives, we might want to remember that advice is given to the one who is seeking, the one who is knocking, to each of us. We are being told to be insistent in our prayer. In doing so we learn. The goal and the effect are more than communication of our needs, they are to shaped and formed, to remember and claim the presence of God, and so to come to know that we are made new.
It is not so difficult. Whatever the words or lack of words, wherever the place, here or in a still place, whatever the time, on Sunday morning or before sleep, we are formed as we pray and the more we pray the more we are formed, conformed to the image to which he calls us.
It is about constancy. It is the reason we come to this place or join in supporting each other in prayer. It is the promise of our baptismal covenant to keep the prayers.
Jesus begins the lesson by setting the framework with the words of a prayer. It is an awareness of the presence and holiness of God, that we are dependent on God for all of our blessing, that we have estranged ourselves from God, that we have the work of forgiveness ourselves. These specific words are precious because they are a gift from our Savior. These are the words we remember even as memory fails. But while the words are precious they are not essential. Even the simplest prayer, the ancient “Jesu have mercy on me” is includes the core of the lesson, remembering who we are, who we are called to be, in whose presence we abide.
I do not forget our petitions and intercessions, our pleas in times of need. In the constancy of our prayer, God will surely not withhold the gifts of his Holy Spirit from us. We will celebrate the presence of the love of God; we will remember his mercy and that he abides with us. Having remembered, having been conformed to his love we are able to turn and make our petitions for mercy even as his will is done.
Surely, it is God who saves us; * I will trust in him and not be afraid. For the Lord is our stronghold and our sure defense, * and he is be our Savior. Therefore in prayer we shall draw water with rejoicing * even from the springs of salvation. Thanks be to God. AMEN.
Pentecost 5 (8C) Church of the Advent
June 27, 2010
Cape May, New Jersey
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62
“...letting go....”
Elisha and Elijah. It gets a bit confusing. Both are prophets of the Lord and we hear their stories in first and second Kings. Elijah is the one who comforts the widow with nothing to eat in a time of famine, who does battle with the priest of Baal and then with Jezebel. That is Elijah. His successor was Elisha. This is the one who provides oil for the poor widow to ward off creditors. He raises the son of the Shunamite woman. He gives Naaman, the general of Damascus, relief from leprosy by bathing seven time in the Jordan river. It is Elisha that we are interested in this morning.
The passage we heard from Second Kings is the wonderful old story of the taking of Elijah up to heaven in chariot. While the story of the chariot and Elijah is interesting. I am more interested in Elisha. For me Elisha the prophet is all about letting go and chosing.
Earlier in the story, when the old prophet first meets his successor Elisha is plowing a field. The older man casts his mantle, his robe, over him as a sign of office; it is sort of like a vesting at an ordination. Elisha has a choice at this point. He can respond or not. He makes the choice by giving up everything. In an act of complete extravagance, or perhaps it is faith, he slaughters the oxen with which he was plowing and uses the yoke for fuel and feeds everyone. He gives up all his attachments and choses to follow the old prophet.
The story of the chariot is a further choice again. The old prophet tells the younger, you may have the inheritance of my voice in a double portion if you chose. The choice is to stay with me and watch. With the old one gone it would have been easy enough to go back. Elisha, who had already given up who he was, now lets go to claim what he is called to be. He does and the portion is his. Elisha, it seems to me, is about miracles and truth telling to be sure, but he is also about letting go so that he can claim and respond to all that is possible. In the old phrase, it is about letting go and letting God.
Our own “choosings” and lettings go may be, I hope are, less dramatic that a sacrifice of oxen and the tools needed for our farms. They are less obvious than turning to be something else, letting go of the old and watching the chariot and angels of God taking up the holy man. They are less dramatic and less obvious, but they are just as real. We are called, all of us. It may not be to be a prophet. It may be to be a caregiver, a parent or child, a partner in marriage, a friend or simply to grow. These are vocational choices, literally responding to who were are called to be. Making our choice requires us to let go of who and what we have been.
We teach our children to make choices and to let go. They let go of the safety board when they learn to swim. They let you let go of the back of the bicycle as they learn. They may need to put themselves second, to give up themselves as a priority, for a friend or for family. They may need to save or to give instead of consuming. Teaching a child to give to another in need is about choice, learning to let go and to respond. We make these choices in our relationships. We sacrifice ourselves in some respect to build friendship. We do so in marriage, responding to the call of love by being willing to give up something of ourselves and to choose to care for another. We do the same as parents and friends. Our “lettings go” and “choosings” are not as dramatic or obvious as those of Elisha; but they are just as real.
I wonder if this combination of letting go and choice, is at the root of what Paul is talking about in this passage from Galatians. The passage can be difficult. Paul talks about the flesh in a way that his first listeners in the ancient world might have appreciated more than we do. We have less of a concern with the flesh, our physicality, perhaps, even those who build this worship space 150 years ago. But we might understand this Apostle to the Gentiles as counseling us to let go of other sorts of entanglements.
Consider what he counsels against: enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, Each of these and the others involve putting ourselves first. Paul says put away the flesh. It is what we might understand as putting away or letting go of the entanglements of pride, the notion that we need only satisfy our own wants, that we are entitled always to be in control.
I wonder if he is not asking us to let go. If we do, then we are able to choose a different sort of life. Paul talks about freedom. It is the freedom that we find in Christ. It is a freedom however that requires choice and response, choosing and letting go. We are made whole by choosing faith and trust in the love of God, in the work of Christ. We have freedom from the restrictions of the law. But Paul describes another sort of freedom. It is the freedom that comes from choosing to let go and respond to the grace and love of God. It is the freedom that comes from letting go of ourselves, of the entanglements that arise out of insisting on ourselves first. It is about the freedom of letting go and claiming our inheritance as a child of God.
Is this the point of the Gospel this morning? If we are to be free, to respond to the call of God, there is a choice to be made, letting go and becoming who we are called to be. In the case of the Gospel passage and Elisha it is dramatic and a singular event. Paul reminds us that this choosing and letting go is something we do all of the time. It is to listen to and respond to the call of God. Paul reminds us to let go of pride and anger and the desire to satisfy only ourselves and the rest of our entanglements, and so to be free. In this choosing and letting go we find a different sort of freedom.
We are called to choose freedom. Teach us, O Lord. Open our ears to hear your call. Open our eyes to see the path to which we are led. Open our hands to let go of what binds us. Open our hearts to follow you. Show us the path of life; *and in your presence give us the fullness of joy. Teach us, O Lord. AMEN.
Pentecost 2010 Church of the Advent
May 23, 2010
Cape May, New Jersey
Genesis 11:1-9
Psalm 104:25-35, 37
Acts 2:1-21
John 14:8-17, (25-27)
“One voice and one story”
+ They came together, all of the people to a single plain and they agreed. There was no question about it. It would be a great thing for them to build a city. It would be a great city, one with high buildings and great markets, places for luxury and athletic contexts. It would have high walls and in the middle of the city they would build a tower that would reach for the heavens. It would be an extraordinary accomplishment. With their hands and skills they could do absolutely anything. So they collected strong beams and fired up strong bricks with which to build and gathered bitumen, which is a thick oil, to serve as mortar between the bricks. There was nothing they could not do.
Was it jealousy? Was the project just too big for their resources and their numbers? They began to argue with each other over how to proceed. What was supposed to be done first? Each claimed pride of place and the result was that they could not deal or speak with each other.
It is the story of the Tower of Babel and the confusion of languages. The problem on this plain, it seems to me, was not their language but their pride. In building the tower they made a claim on the heavens and would have separated themselves from God. The consequence of their pride and self aggrandizement was to be separated from each other.
Now listen to the account from Acts of the great day of the Pentecost. The disciples of the Christ are in their room. There is a presence. It is the Holy Spirit coming among them as with tongues of flame. And they begin to speak. Each of those who have come to Jerusalem for the feast, come from around the world to celebrate at the Temple, hears his own voice, his own language. Still the point is not that each heard their own tongue, but they understood. Paul often reminded the churches that speaking in a strange voice is of little value if you cannot be understood. And the disciples were understood.
Each of those in the street heard the good news of the Gospel. They heard of the work and victory of Christ. They heard of the “deeds of power.”
What I hear in these stories is not about confusion or its undoing. It is certainly not a call to speak more or more loudly. It is instead about the message, the content of our speech. It is about a different city.
We are made the children of God, called as one, and we are given the gifts of the Spirit, to care for each other, seeking and serving in all the face of Christ. We are given a single voice by which, in our words and deeds (and we do speak both with our voices and our hands), we may proclaim the good news, the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. Our task once again is to build the city; but in this case the foundation is not our pride, what we think we can accomplish but instead the love of God. God calls us to build the city and gives us the voices, the tools, with which to accomplish our work.
We share the common message and a common inheritance as the children of God. Even in our difference, even with different voices, we are able recognize each other and to speak. We claim our inheritance and reach out to serve one another. Instead of the works of our own design we are called to the greater work by which the whole of Creation is renewed.
If we claim the gifts of the Spirit then we have an answer to our prayer. “O Lord open our lips; that our mouths may show forth your praise.”
Easter 3 C April 18, 2010
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
Acts 9:1-19a
Revelation 5:6-14
John 21:1-14
Psalm 33 or 33:1-11
“Reconciliation as the work of forgiveness”
Now it happened that Ananaias had come to be a disciple of the Way. He had heard and considered the word of Jesus and had come to be a believer. He had been baptized and all of this gave him considerable comfort. But his new found faith had given little comfort over the past few days. There was a visitor.
First he had heard that this Saul was on his way. The news traveled quickly. He was coming with warrants to seize Jews who had taken up with the good news of Jesus. He would try to arrest them. This Saul was known by reputation. He had been there when poor Stephen had been stoned. He did not take part; but he did nothing to stop the mob either. Saul was an angry and clever young man, one it paid to watch out for.
Then he heard that Saul had somehow been struck down. There were conflicting reports of a voice and a great light. Saul ended up blinded and had been brought into the city. Good he thought. He will not be able to bother any of us. But then he had heard the voice as well. It was one of those Noah or Jonah moments; it was the inconvenience of God’s call.
The Lord said to go and take care of Saul. Ananias had objected. “Don’t you know who this person is? This is the one who is persecuting us.” The Lord said go anyway and care for him.
Ananias went to Saul and called him brother. He cared for him and the scales which had blinded him fell away. In a turnabout that could not have been expected he was baptized, received the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and went away rejoicing and proclaiming the good news. The Jesus whose followers he had persecuted was the Christ, the anointed one of Israel.
It is a story of healing, empowerment, reconciliation and forgiveness. These are the gifts which Ananias brought to Saul his brother.
It is the nature of our condition that we are separated and separate ourselves from one another and from God. It is condition of sin. By pride and anger and greed and all the other instruments at our disposal we injure each other or fail to care for those who are injured. Doing so we set ourselves apart from our neighbors and from God, in ways that are small and ways that are large.
There is a risk in treating sin and its forgiveness as something which is just about us, or something that is an abstraction involving only judgment of our character. The risk here is to equate forgiveness with a formal pardon. I think that Ananias and the work he was given by the Lord is more instructive and closer to the reality of the work of forgiveness.
If sin is separation then the hard work of forgiveness is to undo that separation. It is to be reconciled to those we have injured and to God. The curious part is that the first steps have already been taken. Those beginnings for us are the Incarnation.
Ananias, for all that he was a disciple, did not volunteer in this story to go to Saul. Instead the Lord came to him. He told Ananias to go and comfort this one who would have persecuted him. The disciple brought the love of God to Saul and in this small community of two or those who came with the disciple, Saul was washed, made to see, fed, healed and baptized. And he was Paul sent by God to bring the good news of salvation to all of us. It is a salvation that begins in the availability of God and the God’s love in Christ to all of us, in spite of us. Here in the Body of Christ, the community of those who abide in the love of God in Christ is the beginning and ending of reconciliation.
Easter 2C April 11, 2010
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
“He meets us where we are.”
+ With most of us I am a fan of certainty. I like to be in control or at least to know who that someone else is. Precision and predictability, measurement, an understanding of the causes of things help to ground and center us. Usually this all makes us feel comfortable. It can be something that is dangerous as well. Fear often lies in the uncertain or the unknown. Some of the more questionable voices in our public life appeal loudly to and try to make a claim on our need for certainty.
In case you had not noticed the baseball season is underway once again. I have two sons-in-law. I know that they are already keeping track of won-loss records, batting averages, earned run averages. Our bishop, the, sorry to say, Red Sox fan, knows exactly what is going on with his team. My guess is that some part of their love of the game involves this idea of being able to keep the records and so to be able to explain what has happened before and predict what is to come. We love certainty, predictability, an understanding of where effort and hard work produce result.
We love certainty but the reality is that however much we profess a love of clarity, however strong that desire may be, our lives are filed with uncertainty and doubt and questions. The place of absolute certainty is not where we live. It is not just about faith. It is about who we are and who we are called to be. It is the question of where we go next and for what purpose. If we are honest with ourselves we admit that more often than not we live in ambiguity.
On this second Sunday of Eastertide, by tradition, we hear the passage of John’s account of the Gospel that describes the encounter between Thomas and Jesus. I have a feeling that we may read this story with lens colored by our preference for certainty. You heard the story. Thomas refused to believe. He was the doubter. All the other disciples no doubt were surrounding him in embarrassment. Not now Thomas. Not now; don’t you know who this is? And in our mind’s eye Jesus shrugged and said “Touch me.”
Here we are on the second Sunday of Eastertide and we are in a mode of congratulating our selves, claiming the triumphant. All is certain and clear. And I suppose it is understandable enough. Everything is certain. After all it was only last Sunday that we were finally able to shout our alleluias, to proclaim that Christ is risen, the Lord is risen indeed.
Coupled this morning with the scene in the upper room is a set of lessons that speak of triumph and a certain exactitude of understand. There is the assertiveness of the new church in Acts, of the Revelation and of course Psalm 150. Here is the Kingdom and the triumph of our Lord now and in the age to come. The other lessons conspire to lure us into a certain triumphalism. The Thomas story is pretty triumphant as well, at least from our perspective. There is this self congratulatory note at the end. Blessed are those who simply come to believe. We are somehow better than Thomas. We are certain that we would not doubt.
If you are up there that’s fantastic. Sometimes, we all know the place of joy and triumph, the place where all the promises come together. It is the place of certainty. But it is not always so clear and precise. I think that this passage from John has another message. It is not one which addresses us in triumph but rather in the reality of our lives, particularly our spiritual lives. It is a message which speaks to us in the place and time of uncertainty.
Condescendingly we call Thomas the doubter, the one who could not see what was so plain. Then we call ourselves blessed in some fashion; for we are the ones who by faith are able to believe. But if we are honest with ourselves we will admit both doubt and the need for assurance. This is the nature of our lives. The reality is that our live of faith and trust is one lived out in the real world of uncertainty and ambiguity, of doubt and of fear. Maybe we are not his opposite but rather his twin.
Listen again to what Jesus is doing in this room and what he is saying. Our Lord comes to the disciples a first time, not for their great merit. These are the ones who are frightened and have hidden themselves away in the upper room. These are the ones who have heard the message of Mary Magdalene and did not know what to think. To them, in their own peculiar place of fear he came and gave them his peace; he gave them his presence.
Then there is Thomas. Jesus does not condemn Thomas for his doubt. Instead he comes to him in the place he finds him and he says: “Touch me.” In our doubt perhaps we are his twin. In our fear perhaps we are the brothers of those first ones in the room.
Our Lord finds us where we are. He comes to those who would follow him. We strive for belief by faith and trust and in parts of our lives we experience the joy of that faith; but we have the assurance that he comes to us even in fear and even as we doubt.
He is there in all the richness and diversity of our experience and our need. The Evangelist says that there was much more that he could have said. There were those other times and places of testimony and witness. He has given us enough but he has not gone on to write about us. There is an openness to the end of this account of the Gospel. It is one which invites us to become a part of the story as well.
Our Lord meets us where we are. Amen.
Palm/Passion Sunday C 2010 March 28, 2010
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 31:9-16
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 22:14- 23:49
"Interrupting the story"
I remember the parishioner who complained mightily about hearing the Passion Gospel on the same day as the entrance into Jerusalem. “Couldn’t you let us have one day of joy and celebration?” The trap is in missing the continuity, or of treating the Passion as a momentary blip in a larger account that only goes from glory to glory. The risk is in forgetting that the entry into Jerusalem and the Passion are two pieces of a single story.
My guess is that on some level we do not want to admit the Passion. It is easier to move directly from the celebration of the palms and the entry into Jerusalem to the joy of Easter. The problem is that Passion is not just a momentary blip on the radar, a short detour in the story. It is central; it is integral to the whole of the Gospel. Here is where we complete the dirty business of the Incarnation. What began in a manger is completed on Calvary. The entry into Jerusalem hints at what is to come; but it is not the story.
This is the week for Jesus to empty himself in obedience to the will of the Father even knowing what is to come. That is the point and that is the completeness of the Incarnation. Perhaps what we acclaim is his courage, his willingness to enter the city, his willingness to respond to the call of God, saying “even so, your will be done.” This is his mind as he enters the city and as he climbs the hill to Calvary.
Paul asks us to adopt the mind of Christ. He reminds us of the significance and extent of what has been done for us. There is the Christ, the Son of God, the Word of God. What he is describing is the Incarnation. This is the one who for us and for our salvation becomes one of us, emptying himself and becoming a servant, for a time with us and lower that the angels. This is the one who listens and in obedience says “If this cup cannot pass me by, Father, your will be done.” This is the one who Paul asks is to imitate; upon whom he asks us to model ourselves. Paul, I think would resolve our confusion by having us acknowledge and live into the reality that we are all of these stories at the same time. We are the crowd and we are the ones in need whom Jesus calls to be the children of God.
Lent 2C February 28, 2010
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18
Psalm 27
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Luke 13:31-35
"Goals and Distractions"
I heard this morning’s gospel in terms of goals and distractions. The passage invites commentary and reflection on Herod and Jerusalem. The passage also sets the stage. It reminds us that at the end of Jesus’ ministry of teaching there will come the events of Jerusalem, that momentous week that ends in the Passion and Resurrection. But I also hear a lesson about remaining focused on the goal, not allowing ourselves to be sidetracked or distracted.
Jesus knew precisely what was going on and what the risk to his work that was being presented. A group of Pharisees come to him with a warning. I know that we have this tendency to treat the Pharisees as the legalists, the ones with whom Jesus must contend. No doubt they were; but, as a group, they were also no friends of Herod. These were devout men, as a group they were probably men, who longed to see Israel reformed. Their tradition of study and the recovery of the law gave us Paul as well. Their challenge to Jesus was precisely because they cared, even if they had their own agenda.
So these men come to our Lord with a warning. Beware, they say. Herod the king wants to stop you. The threat is clear. Lower your visibility. Don’t make so much noise. Stop stirring the pot from the bottom. The consequences of not paying attention to this advice should have clear enough. Look at what happened to John, the one who was baptizing at the Jordan, who was calling Israel and Herod specifically to repentance. He was arrested and his head was served on a platter to satisfy he anger of Herod’s wife. Given the state of public discourse in first century Galilee, the smart thing would have been to lie low, to let everything cool down for a while. That would have been the smart thing.
In his letter to the Philippians Paul is so bold as to ask us to imitate him in his focus on the heavenly city. He asks us not to be distracted by self pride or the desires and wants of this life. But the one he invites us to imitate, to form ourselves upon, is ultimately our Savior. He is this one who encounters the Pharisees on the road to Jerusalem with their warnings of Herod.
The one whom we are finally invited to imitate know the goal set before him very clearly and he knows the urgency of resisting the distractions which are impediments to the goal. Jerusalem and Calvary with come soon enough. Now is the time to proclaim the in breaking of the kingdom of God, the love of God, the call to love one another.
For me these passages suggest a certain Lenten discipline of reflection. It is first to consider our goals, particularly as they relate to each of us and our experiences of the the Spirit and the love of God. How am we called individually? It is to the love of God and the love and care of our neighbors; it is in seeking and serving Christ in all persons; it is in proclaiming and living out the good news. Particularly from Easter we will be reminded of our goal. We will be called the children of God. We will hear of the gifts of the Spirit and the Gospel will send us into the world to proclaim and witness the good news. What better time is there to reflect?
Having considered the call, chew over these passages, reflect and meditate. How are hindered? What are the impediments? In these days the distractions are not so obvious. We are not on the way to Jerusalem and Calvary, at least not literally. We are under no threat from Herod, at least not literally. Still they are real enough and perhaps the more problematic because they do not seem so threatening.
If the threat is not Herod, what is that draws my attention from the goal? This may be difficult lesson since the distractions are the everyday qualities of the lives we lead. There is always something important to do or to respond to. I cannot turn on the television or my computer without being told to pay attention. There is always a threat. There is always something that I need to respond to. Who are the pharisees who distract me?
Our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we expect our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. This is the one we are called to follow. He has transformed us and made us new. So let us walk in his ways.
Epiphany 3C Church of the Advent
January 24, 2010
Cape May, New Jersey
Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a
Luke 4:14-21
"Hearing...really hearing...the call"
+ My parents had a tendency to be indirect about chores; or at least I thought they were being indirect. The trash needs to be taken out. The grass needs to be cut. The leaves need to be raked. When they said it this way I could pretend as if they were not really speaking to me, even when there was no one else in the room. Maybe they were speaking to someone else I had not noticed. Maybe the comment about the grass or the leaves from my father was really directed at my mother. It often took some time to learn that the call was sent in my direction. I was the one asked to wash the car, even when I was not the one taking it out for the evening.
I learned all sorts of tricks. I could not hear. I did not understand. One time Dad took me for a hearing test and the doctor reassured him. I had age related hearing loss. I was fourteen.
So I listen to this story from Nehemiah with a question and an ear of suspicion. Did they suddenly realize that they were called to obey, to hear and follow the law and the covenant? Was it all that simple? Well perhaps; but I think that the prophet doth rejoice too much.
I listen to the Gospel with the same ear. This morning’s Gospel passage is from Luke’s account. Jesus has been baptized and claimed as God’s own. He has been led into the wilderness. There he is tested by the devil. It is only at this point that, filed with the power of the Spirit that he returns to Galilee. He goes to Nazareth, the place where as a youth he heard the words of the Torah and the Prophets. This is a homecoming. It is a moment of pride for the community to have this man back in their midst, this son of Mary. He begins to read from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."
Now their first reaction was to speak well of him. They wondered at his gracious words. But in fact, in a little while, it will turn our badly. By the end of the chapter they will drive him out of town and try to throw him down from a high place. One reason for their reaction involves his understanding of the reach of these words of scripture. Proclaimed that day in Nazareth hey are the fulfillment of prophesy; but they are not just an answer to the yearning of Israel but also a fulfillment of the nations’ desire and longing.
Still, before looking at the reach of this good news, maybe we can look one more time at the room itself. I ask my self this question. In making this good news which he proclaims, in making it real, who is it that will release the captive, who lift up the oppressed, who will feed the poor and lift up the lowly. We know who is called to do the work of the kingdom of God; this in-breaking kingdom which he proclaims is upon us.
Did they have some sense that this single reader, prophet, son their own community would not by himself make all of this real? If so, did they begin to hear the implications of his words? They were the one’s who were called. They reacted badly to what could be taken as presumption. They reacted badly to the reach of his words But was their reaction also to the barely hidden call on each of them to respond to the good news, to make this proclamation real, not be reliance on a Messiah come in glory, but by their own actions. Was their reaction to good news not in the abstract but real in their presence, as real as they were able to respond to its call?
Can we reflect on this passage from the Gospel and the others that have offered to us this morning? The kingdom is breaking in upon us. Who will do its messy work or love and gentleness? With those in that room we are the ones called, either for the first time, or, if we have begun to respond then with God’s grace, to continue in constancy and perseverance.
Although I listen to Nehemiah with some sense of suspicion, reading my own limits into those ancient peoples. At the same time perhaps we can listen to what was the hope of the prophet. It was the time of the return from exile in Babylon and Ezra began to read the ancient law received by their ancestors in the desert as they fled the oppression of Egypt. They heard and understood what God had commanded of them, not of another people, but of them. Did the ones who listened in Nazareth understand? Do we hear and understand our own law, the one which asks us to love God and each other?
We are the ones I think who are called to listen in on the words spoken in Nazareth. With all of the skills and talents which we share as member of the body of Christ, the gifts of the Holy Spirit we are the ones called to listen and to respond.
We are the ones who have been empowered in our baptism by the Holy Spirit. We have been given the talents and skills of discernment and prophesy and care taking and healing and all of the rest. With all of these gifts do we understand that we are the ones sitting in the synagogue of Nazareth and that we are the ones who are called.
Let us arise and shine. Let our hearts be warmed, our ears unstopped and our mouth opened. The light has dawned upon us. Thanks be to God. AMEN
Epiphany 2C Church of the Advent
January 17, 2010
Cape May, New Jersey
Isaiah 62:1-5
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
John 2:1-11
“Community out of Spirit”
I went to a basketball game this week. It was a game between the girl’s teams at Lower and St. Joseph’s. What I saw that night was energy. The Lady Caper Tigers played every minute of the game. They lost; but they played every minute and they played well.
The cheerleaders were filed with spirit. I cannot remember having that much energy and I was never able to do the sorts of leaps and tumbling that they seem to take so much for granted. There were the boys at the end of the bleachers, far away from the adults. They did their best to disrupt the foul shots of the opposing team with noise. And there were the adults who cheered and groaned as the fortunes of their teams waxed and waned. Last but not least there were the coaches who seemed to take every shot and every call personally. The only ones who seemed relatively and consistently calm were the referees. I went to a basketball game this week. It was a great game.
There was a sense of excitement and a sense of community, even including the visitors from St. Joseph’s. The spirit of the night seemed to pull them all into a community. The community was more than just the individuals who were there. It was something greater.
Paul understood I think. Actually the context may be a reminder that sometimes we need to instruct our teachers. No doubt he would have been taken aback by the girls varsity and cheerleaders; but he would listen if we made the effort. I think he would have understood the context.
He writes in some pain to the young gathering of Christians in Corinth. He speaks of their community. They grieve and oppress each other. They separate themselves; one claiming greater wisdom or purity than the other. There are divisions and factions as to who is better. This is the context when he begins to speak of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.
Paul reminds this young congregation that there are different gifts. There is a variety; but these gifts come from the same Holy Spirit. It is one God who breaths this breath of healing and life into us. The gifts may be of healing or of preaching or of miracles or of wisdom. They are all different; but if the congregation will come together they will realize that they are all for the same purpose.
They are given these gifts for the common good. Each is indispensable even the weakest. Can an eye say to the hand I have no need of you or the head to the feet? For as the body is one with many members, though many we are all one in Christ, made one by the same Spirit. We are one to shine forth.
The importance of community or recognizing our singularity is underscored I think by the account of the marriage at Cana in John’s account of the Gospel. Jesus has the jars filed with water and then turns them to wine. Now this passage has been used for any number of purposes. In the nineteenth century it was a proof text against John Welch’s drive to ban wine from the altar. It is cited as a blessing of marriage in our own liturgy. I wonder though whether we miss the point. This is a very ordinary event. It is the gathering of two families their friends and a a village to celebrate a new beginning. It is an act of community.
If there is an endorsement I wonder whether it might simply be of the common and ordinary quality of our community, our gathering together. It is here that the Spirit works. It is here that we come together. Jesus does not discount the Temple. This is the place he calls the house of his Father. But he does mark the ordinary community gathered for the occasion of a wedding as a place for the work of the Spirit
By tradition these two lessons have been paired since they seem to speak about the Church, the very Body of Christ. They tell us of the importance of our gathering; that this is the place in which we find the Spirit. Here is the place to bring our gift.
We experience the Spirit outside of community for sure. There are those times of silence and quiet in which we are aware, very aware of the presence of Christ in our lives; we know that the Spirit is working in us. Still Paul, and I think this Gospel passage, remind us of the importance of coming together. These gifts are greater when they are together.
Every so often I hear someone tell me that they are spiritual but not really into church. It is something they do alone. Or that they don’t think they really need community. They are sufficient unto themselves. I am sure that they are spiritual. I am sure that they shine with the light of the Spirit in their own way. I am sure that for some purposes that they are sufficient unto themselves. And I am also sure that if we unscrew all of the lamps in this candelabra that provides light for the church, all save one, the one will shine; but we will not see.
Be still and quiet and alone. Experience the presence of the Holy Spirit. Grow in your prayers. But let us be complete. By his presence our Lord blesses us as we gather. Together we find strength and are able to live as one, as the body of Christ. So Paul understands that we each have our gifts; but it is together that we manifest those gifts of the spirit; as the body of Christ we shine forth.
So the prophet says. Together our justice will shine out like the dawn, our salvation like a burning torch. The nations shall see our vindication and all the kings our glory; and we shall be called by a new name, the children of God. Shelter us under the shadow of your wings. Arise shine for our light has come; so then let us as one shine forth like the dawn. AMEN
Epiphany 1C January 10, 2010
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
Isaiah 43:1-7
Psalm 29
Acts 8:14-17
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
Being Embraced by Love
+ Imagine. It is a beautiful sunny day. We have been hearing heard about John. Remember, he is the one who was born to Elizabeth late in her life. Now something has come upon him. He went out into the wilderness and now he by the Jordan River, preaching repentance and baptizing. We heard and went down to the river to see him and listen, some of us from a long distance, maybe even from Jerusalem.
What are we met with for our effort but condemnation? Instead of welcoming us he calls us a brood of vipers and asks who warned us of the wrath that is to come? That's not much of a reception. That's not the way for a preacher to make everyone feel welcome. Still, there is something about him and something about us. We are most definitely in need and so we ask what is to be done? "If you have two coats, give one away to someone in need. If you have food, divide it and give it to the poor. You tax collectors, only take what is owed. You soldiers, do not rob the people and be satisfied with your wages."
Luke says that we hear all of this and then wait expectantly, yearning. We ask if this could be the one who was promised. Is this the anointed one, the Messiah described by the prophets of old. It is surely our time of need. Surely this is the one. Yet John says no. One greater than he is coming who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.
We are great fans of heroes. We have this desire for someone who can fly in with a cape and fix everything all at once. They show up from ancient times until today, from one who will save us from some ravenous beast to Superman repeatedly saving the planet. Salvation comes by strength or moral purity or because they are just like us. At some level we imagine ourselves as the hero or heroine. Maybe I will wake up to discover that I can in fact fly faster than a speeding bullet or can defy gravity with my martial arts skills. It's not likely, is it? I think we are also fond of the idea of superheroes when facing those big intractable problems. It is probably no coincidence that many of the comic book heroes were born out of the middle of the last century, a time of tyranny and war. The single big solution in the person of an individual is always appealing.
Here we are then by the banks of the Jordon. We are yearning and sighing. Is this the one who was promised? If we were to examine this yearning more closely I think that we understand that it was for one who would come with legions of angels, in power and great and obvious might. We would no longer worry about the overly zealous tax collector or the soldier. They would not even have to listen to John. Everything would instantly be taken care of by this Messiah come in glory. The yearning may not have been exactly for this answer, but my guess, from human nature and the inability to recognize the one who does come, is that I would be close. I emphasize all of this, the expectation of the crowd which has come to be baptized, the crowd which we can take as genuinely repentant; because the response is so very different from the expectation, just as dramatic I think, but very different
When they all have been baptized and after we are told that John has been thrown into prison by Herod, and after Jesus himself had been baptized, then the heavens opened and the Holy Sprit in the form of a dove, (a dove mind you, a white bird and not a single legion of angels) a dove descended and there was a voice which said: This is my Son, my beloved; with you I am well pleased." The expectation is one of glory and angels and while artists and musicians over the centuries have tried to capture the majesty of the moment, I really doubt that it was what the crowd expected.
Is this the Messiah? Well no, is the answer, at least not in the way the crowd might be expecting, this is not the superhero who will solve all problems in a flash, the one with a red cape. Our Messiah is different. We know him by this embrace. It is a naming and a claiming in love. It is a most emphatic yes to our question but one which the crowd does not expect. It was the announcement of a different sort of Messiah; it is the proclamation that this is the Son of God.
The difference between expectation and reality will play itself out in the Gospel. It will take time, the Passion and the Resurrection before the disciples and the crowd will begin to understand that this is a different sort of Messiah.
This is not our baptism. It is a unique event, the naming of the Son of God. But there is something instructive for us. In the lessons which follow Christmas we hear of the great change in our lives. We are given this freedom to be the children of God. Fair enough. We make our claim in our own Baptism. We are dead to sin and reborn once again, as if from above. We are marked by the oil of chrism as Christ's own forever. Fair enough.
Yet in the Baptism of our Savior and in God's words I think there is instruction for us as well. Something else is involved. In our own baptism we make our claim and affirmation; but it is in response to God. It is in response to the Gospel. What the Gospel unfolds and proclaims is God's embrace in love of all of us. Our baptism in that sense marks God's naming and claiming of each of us in love and our response to God's love. Our salvation is in love and embrace rather than legions of angels in strength.
Did you hear the prophet Isaiah? In his song God tells the people "Fear not." Even when you pass through the torrent of the waters I am with you. We do not understand the significance of this comfort unless we hear what has gone before in Isaiah's song. His lamentation is of the failure of the people, of their spiritual blindness and obtuseness. In is in response to this failure that God provides reassurance. Even in their imperfection he claims them. Here is the logic of grace breaking through our own failures. Here is the profligacy of love. This is the same logic which astounds the disciples when they hear of Samaria. Philip has gone to preach and the Samaritans or many of them are baptized in the name of Christ, a people who are foreign and different. Yet they are claimed as they are. The logic of grace, the profligacy of God's love extends to them and embraces them in baptism and the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The Baptism of our Lord and the words which embrace and claim are a beginning that changes the world. But it is an embrace which extends through the Gospel. The embrace of Israel in the words of Isaiah, the claiming of the Samaritans in the hearing of the Disciples is repeated for us in the Gospel and in our own Baptism. The profligacy of love, the logic of grace extends to all of us. We are changed and cleansed in baptism; but we are also claimed by God just as we have been created…whoever we are, wherever we stand, just as we are…we are claimed in love.
Surely it is God who saves us and we will trust in him and not be afraid. And we shall draw water with rejoicing, call upon his name and make his deeds known among the nations. Cry aloud and ring out your joy, for the Holy One is in the midst of us. AMEN.
Advent 4 C Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
December 20, 2009
Paying Attention to the Gift; Answering the Call
+ It's hard to pay attention. It really is a problem. There are so many distractions. My e-mail makes it easier to organize and get things done, including the work of the church. I stay informed by listening to the news. But, and let's be honest with ourselves, distractions are everywhere and built into our lives. There is the cell phone and the internet, stop and search something new, for some of us face book and twitter and staying up to date with our friends. We have not had to do it at Advent but at another parish I noticed a sign that reminded everyone to turn off their cell phones and black berries as a part of the routine of vesting.
This time of year it is even harder. Christmas is almost upon us. It is the season of something to do, the season of lists. Even the icon of the season, the one at the North Pole, is surrounded by his lists of the naughty and nice. The celebration will be pervasive, busy-ness, all around us. It is time for meals and choirs and cookies and punch and all the rest. I am out of breath just thinking about it and my guess is that not a few of you are out of breath getting ready.
In the middle of busy lives, especially in the middle of this incredibly busy season, I have suggestion. Give yourself a gift. Find a place, just for a moment; find a place to be still, to listen. It is possible to be silent and aware. Find a place without distractions and listen to your heart. Some part of an acquired spiritual discipline, a practice of spirituality, is being able to access a place of silence, or simplicity and repose, whether here or in the midst of everyday life, and, for most of us especially in this season. It is a spiritual discipline; since, it is often in the silence that we hear God calling to us; it is here that we experience the presence of the Spirit.
This morning's Gospel is a quiet place. We are not in the company of Moses, going up the mountain to the sounds of thunder; a trumpet sounding that strikes Israel with fear. The Visitation and the Annunciation that precedes it are not really Cecil B. DeMille moments. This particular Gospel time, one of preparation and waiting, is in a quiet place. Gabriel came to Mary. There were no trumpets or choirs. This young woman may have been terrified or awestruck; but it was not from the clashing of cymbals. No one else seems even to have been aware of the presence of the angel. He told her that she would bear a child and her response was quiet and simple: Let it be with me as God wills. It is in the silence that she hears the call; and it is in the silence that she answers.
Now she comes to her cousin's house, to the home of Elizabeth and Zechariah; Elizabeth who had hoped but only now, late in her life, was expecting a child; and Zechariah who has been struck mute by the angel. In my imagination it is a morning filled with sun. Simply drawing near and without a word, the child which Elizabeth carries leaps for joy. It is the one who will be the Baptizer, John. There are no trumpets or choirs or thunder. It is simply the encounter of these two and a response to what God has done in their midst. And it is in this moment that Mary begins to sing. Again, it is out of the silence that she is able to respond: "My soul magnifies the Lord." Sometimes it is in the simplest moments, the ones without distraction, that we hear the voice of God and are able to answer.
If we do nothing else, I would like to capture the quiet of that moment, the meeting between Mary and Elizabeth. In a few short days we will hear choirs of angels and the great proclamation of the birth of our Lord. Rightly we will celebrate; but just for a moment, in anticipation, savoring and tasting what is to come, we could all use the gift of silence, to be still and listen for the voice of the one who will call us.
The shape of the gift we claim will be different for each of us. It will involve more or less actual silence. But my hope is that it will include a sense of awareness in which we can experience this act of divine love, what is done for us; and my hope is that we can respond in kind with love, for God and for each other.
Greta, the child we baptize this morning, brings her own gift this morning just by her presence. I am sure that she is able to sing loudly and make us aware of her presence when she needs to. But to my mind, it is the simplicity of her being which reminds me to listen. She reminds us that we are all called by God. By claiming our attention, she excludes distraction and calls us into a sort of quiet place. When Greta was on her way did you understand that she was leading you into a place of spiritual practice? It may feel like over commitment or sleep deprivation; but consider the possibility that it is place in which to hear the call of God.
On some level the space which she carves out frames our words. We are reminded of who we are, our failings and our possibilities. We are called as the children of God. Aware of the gifts of God, we respond in the covenant. We will live in prayer and the sacraments. We will seek and serve the face of Christ in all persons. We will respect the dignity of every human being. Our promises are a response to the covenant of God fulfilled in the work of Christ. It is a response in love to the great gift of love. Wonderfully focused we dedicate this child and we rededicate ourselves.
From another place of silence we hear Mary's voice in words that resonate with our covenant. "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call us blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for us, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He sets down the mighty from their seats lifts up the lowly. He fills the hungry with good things.
Anticipating what is to be done for us, preparing for the very presence of God in our midst, it would be a gift to take the moment, find a time to be quiet and aware. Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved. In the silence, O Lord, open our ears, that we may know your call. Hearing your call, help us to claim your great gift and responding to make our covenant, to tell out our song. Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved. Thanks be to God. AMEN.
Advent 1C November 29, 2009
Church of the Messiah
Cape May, New Jersey
Luke 21:25-36
Tis the Season
+ 'Tis the season to be….. My guess is that most of you would have completed the sentence with jolly or merry or some thing sounding in Christmas cheer. Actually what I had in mind was "distracted." 'Tis the season to be distracted.
With the passing of Thanksgiving we have all entered into the great season of Distraction. The marketing machine wants to distract us from our resolve so that we will be more effective consumers. The shows on television for small children want to distract us into buying the most recent and must have toy for children and grandchildren. Distraction involves paying attention to something new, something different from what we were focused on before. It is not necessary a bad thing even in the context of the great Season of Distraction. The season, of course, is also Advent and we are asked even by the liturgy to change focus and attention from the ordinary Sunday's of the year to the coming of the Nativity. It is however still a season of distraction.
Distraction, by itself, is neither bad nor good. It is having our attention called away by something new from something else. It can be the turning of the eye or ear or heart or mind. It may have trivial consequences or great ones. It may be for great good or great injury. I admire a flower in the summer and am distracted by a bird or a butterfly. Operating a cell phone while driving is a distraction from the responsibility that comes with a car and license. We undertake certain responsibilities. We make commitments. Caring for a child we know that our responsibility is too great to allow for any distraction. Committing our selves to the care and love of another person, we covenant not to allow ourselves to be distracted. One who contemplates evil may be called away by the gospel and turned to great good.
You will have guessed that my interest in distraction is prompted by this morning's Gospel passage. Jesus describes the great things that are to come. There will be signs in the sun and the moon and the stars. There will be great distress among the nations confused by the roaring of the waters and the waves. It will be the time for the Son of Man to come in clouds and in great glory. Lift up you heads for your redemption is near. And, he says, do not be distracted by dissipation and idleness and the worries of this life. Pay attention and do not be distracted.
Distraction by itself is nothing more than a change of focus. Yet, as you might expect, from the way it appears in this cautionary teaching from Jesus, it can be a problem, a problem involving our spiritual lives.
Curiously, if you look at the traditional great failings, the great or cardinal sins, much of the problem involves becoming distracted and losing sight of who and what we are called to be. There is pride and the risk of self absorption. There is gluttony in which our hearts and senses become focused on personal satisfaction. Consider the others: anger, lust, greed, even spiritual despair. We are called to be the children of God, loving God and each other. At least for me, each of these great failings involves losing sight of who we are and who we are called to be. They each involve turning our focus to some object other than God. In that respect they are akin to idolatry.
I am sure that the Gospel passage has prompted sermons on dissipation and the rest. This is not one of them. As Jesus says to us in Mark's account of the Gospel, we are distracted by the enticements and worries of the world. Distracted we do not see and we are not prepared.
It occurs to me that there is a particular risk in this season of preparation. It is the reason I described these days as the great season of distraction. This risk involves time and it is one which comes with the season. Everything around us says to look forward: the Advent wreath, the words on our dossals behind the altar, even our hymns and the solemn blessing of Advent all speak of preparation for what is to come. During Advent we are all about progression, preparing the way, waiting for angels' proclamation to all people of good will. Rightly we ready ourselves for the birth of a child, our Savior, Immanuel.
Yet I would also have us remember that we are an Easter people. Each Sunday we meet and celebrate the whole of the work of Christ. We are the children of God by his work, all of us. We are made the children of the promise. It is because he has already come that we are able to understand and celebrate his Advent. It is only because of his work that we turn to prepare our welcome. It is a season of irony, of paradox, of both and.
This is a time of not yet, of yearning and anticipation. But it is also a time of already and even in this place and time being claimed by the work of Christ, by the proclamation of the Gospel. We have been made heirs of the promise. I wonder. I wonder whether we might live in both times. For some there is this deflation after we celebrate the Nativity; or there is a sense of anticipated loss which makes it difficult to celebrate. But completing this season involves no loss. In this season of distraction and change might we avoid being distracted, having our attention turned from who we are, even as we prepare to be made new; to live in the present moment of grace even as we prepare for our redemption? Savor the expectation; but savor the present. We abide in him now and long after the season is complete we will abide in him still, trusting in the promises which are our gift.
The days are surely coming says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise. Even as we anticipate with joy, let us remember that we abide in a promise already fulfilled. Even as we prepare the way and the feast, telling once more the story of our redemption, we abide in His love and grace. We are called to be alert that the Lord may make us increase and abound in love for each other and for all. May our hearts this day be strengthened in holiness that we may always strive to be blameless at our Savior's Advent. The days are surely coming says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise. AMEN.
Pentecost 24 (28B) November 15, 2009
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
1 Samuel 1:4-20
1 Samuel 2:1-10
Hebrews 10:11-14, (15-18), 19-25
Mark 13:1-8
Our Goals
+ Which way is the goal post? At the beginning of a football game the first thing you do is figure out which way you are going to be headed. I suppose the second thing a leader does is make sure that everyone is on the same page; everyone is headed the right way. I heard that on my granddaughter's soccer team there was some considerable confusion during the first game about which direction to run. By the time I saw them play it was all sorted out. It was a charming mix up for a team of five year olds. But in most things we do knowing the goal is fundamental. For the team the immediate goal is the net or the goal post. The longer term goal of winning the game as a whole and having a winning season is the driver.
It is good to have goals. As they say: "Dream big." Clearly defined large goals are blessings. They are what we strive for. In a moment of calm or reflection I doubt if any one would seriously disagree with the proposition that it pays to have a goal, particularly those bigger, longer term goals around which we orient ourselves: a great season, winning the love the of our lives, the perfect garden, the successful business. Yet, I wonder. I wonder if goals are a problem these days.
We live in a society that prizes things small and short term. A management type in the church told an audience of which I was a part not to set goals that were too big or too distant. The advertisements for Christmas sales are already underway. Life will just not be complete unless that one special electronic device is in our stocking. You know the one. It's bright and shiny and just a little different from last month's bright and shiny. The consultant would have approved: small and near term. Financial economists seem to want us as consumers to spend and consume now, not later but right now. They may admit the value of long term savings goals for a family; but for their purposes (whether or not the react with glee or gloom to the most recent statistics), the immediate tomorrow goal is successful Christmas sale, a great day after Thanksgiving. We insist on corporate earnings, political results, social justice, now, not later or down the line.
Sometimes there is a reason to seek out an immediate result. But I wonder if the fascination with being consumers, with having the newest thing right now does not have consequences. It is hard to imagine yourself nobly striving toward the goal if the goal is immediate self indulgence. If the goal is so short term where is the need to learn the great virtues of perseverance and constancy?
The fixation on things short term obscures consequences. We no longer need to learn and practice the skill of constancy and perseverance. The longer term we think the more we focus on breadth and depth of our actions and the result. With short term goals we limit consequences and responsibility. There is a tendency I think for short term goals to be individually focused. Saying "I want it now and it is all about me…" (with our without foot stomping) are both infantilized responses to the world.
I suspect that most of this is something that we have said or observed or even felt without necessarily saying it out loud. In that respect it is common sense, (wherever he may have gotten to). So, from the pulpit or here in church the question is what does this have to do with the lessons for this morning? Well quite a bit actually.
One of the remarkable characteristics of the story about Hannah is her single minded pursuit of a goal. She childless and her very being and value is called into question by those close to her. She does not react with anger or despair. She knows what she seeks and she turns in prayer to God. She offers the very gift she seeks back to God, a son who shall be dedicated to the Lord. When Eli comes upon her there is a quality of intensity and perseverance which he initially mistakes for drunkenness and then recognizes for what it is, daring to come into the temple, to come before God in pursuit of her goal..
In the lessons from Hebrews, preacher reminds us that we have a goal. It is the promise. Because of the promise we are called and are able to enter into the sanctuary. It is the promise and goal of the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God, of life everlasting. Goals don't come bigger.
At least this morning for me, the Gospel passage is not so much about the temple or construction/ deconstruction techniques. It is one of many passages in which Jesus tries to explain to the disciples what is to come. It will not be a great king on a magnificent white horse. It will not be, at least for now, a heavenly deliverer attended by throngs of angels. He frames the goal. It will be trial and tribulation. It will be the ordinary work of ordinary life. It is in this context that they are to remember. Conflating any number of passages it is in this context that they are to hold fast to the promise, to feed the sheep, to care for the poor, to proclaim the Gospel, to offer thanks, to be assured of the presence of God, to beware. It is not our job to tear down the temple. We have enough to do.
Our goals are to respond to the kingdom of God breaking in upon us. Our goals are reconciliation to God and life everlasting. Are there any longer term goals than these? Are there any goals with greater consequences or ones which demand more of our interrelationship, our connectedness, with each other?
We on the other hand are already called; called to claim and seek our goals, the goals which are the very gifts of Christ's work. The Gospel asks us to do so with alertness and steadfastness.
This is at the heart of the preacher's message in the passage from Hebrews. He reminds us that we have the promise. This is the goal. It is the promise of life everlasting, of reconciliation to God, of the kingdom breaking upon us, of the abundance of grace and mercy. It is because of what has been done for us that we are able to enter into the sanctuary. These are goals with consequences; ones which draw us together; ones which teach us constancy; ones which draw us out of ourselves. Holding fast to hope and the promise we understand the need to provoke each other to love and good deeds. What a wondrous image this is. We are to provoke each other not to anger or irritation but to love and good deeds. We are to gather in each other's midst and offer prayer.
It is a good thing to have big goals. These are ours. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Stewardship:
On one level the practice of stewardship is to share; to share with an awareness of the source of our gifts, to share in support of the work of God, building up the Kingdom that breaks upon us.
In this process there are occasions for question and challenges. We ask whether what we give back is cared for and spent wisely or not. I would hope that the answer is yes. Still as stewards we can and should ask the question of reasonableness and care. My experience in this place is that the answers here are affirming and comforting. Those who construct and oversee the implementation of our budget and spending are cautious and careful. The Vestry works hard and prayerfully to allocate available resources, to deal with rising costs and to meet new opportunities for growth. For those who see a responsibility to serve those in need both within and outside the Church, the questions are appropriate and welcome.
Yet I would have us make no mistake. What we do in this place is unique. Our gifts are used ultimately for the proclamation of the Gospel, the good news of all the blessings which have been poured upon us. Our gifts to this community nourish and heal in a way that occurs no where else. Our gifts are a response to the gifts of God to the people of God. Our gifts are meant to open up the word of God, to bring the bread of life so that all may taste and see. Even our outreach to the community is different. It is not simple a human response to a human need. It is our response to all that has been done for us, indeed to the work of Christ. We turn and use our gifts to seek and serve the face of Christ in all persons.
So when I consider my gift to the daily work of this parish community, the possibility of increasing my devotion for expenses as simple as keeping this place clean or for the hope of providing more support for songs of praise and thanksgiving, it is with the understanding that this is more than sharing. It is the work to which we are called. It is the proclamation of the Gospel; it is building and welcoming the Kingdom.
For me this is the practice of stewardship. We claim the gifts of faith, hope and charity by doing the work of trusting and hoping and sharing and loving. We learn to love our neighbors by doing so. We learn to proclaim the Gospel by living the Gospel.
All Saints' Day November 1, 2009
Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9
Psalm 24
Revelation 21:1-6a
John 11:32-44
+ It is always a surprise. What will they be for Halloween? Over the years there have been cookie monsters and ghosts and all the rest. The pirates and the knights have come to our doors. Now with our granddaughters I see pictures of fairies and frogs. Particularly with the little ones there is a sense of freedom. They realize that they can be whoever or whatever they wish to be. That, I think, is a good thing. It is a good thing that we allow them the time and opportunity to image who they can become.
There is all this confusion about Halloween. I suppose I should be concerned. How many of those trick or treaters, do you think, understood that they were enacting the eve of an ancient holiday, that they were celebrating the Eve of the Feast of All Hallows? There were not too many I suspect. Yet I cannot object too much. The knowledge that these little ones are able to engage in the process of imagining who they might be is perhaps a small coin to pay for putting the emphasis on the preparation and not on the feast itself. They may imagine themselves as teachers or artists or care givers or even as saints.
I am aware that adults do the same thing. Sometimes our imaginations involve very innocent games of pretend. Sometimes we get carried away. On occasion I have seen adults in costume and wondered if the object was not imagination but rather escape. Yet even then the freedom to imagine something new, to escape is not to be ignored or treated lightly. Where might I escape to? It could be the company of the saints.
In the early days of our Christian heritage, our ancestors in the faith began to pay attention to those who had witnessed with heroic virtue. They remembered those who had shed their blood, given their lives in the defense of the faith. Curiously, most historians of the early church would tell you that the celebration of the saints grew and flourished more after the faith became socially acceptable. After the Emperor said it was okay to worship as we pleased, the folk who followed the Christ began to remember those who had suffered. Perhaps it was a way of reconnecting with a simpler time. Perhaps it was a way to remember and claim a strength of faith that was harder to maintain after its victory. It was the same move that drove some of them into the desert in an effort to strengthen their faith, to lead lives of the spirit.
Whatever the reason it became one to remember and celebrate the lives of the Holy ones, the hallowed. They remembered particularly the dates on which the martyrs had entered into glory. In time the calendar became full. There was also the host of those who were dimly known or not known at all. The solution was a single feast for all of the saints, the Feast of All Saints which we celebrate today, remembering all those whose examples of virtue and holiness and spirituality we follow as we respond to the call of Christ.
Of course we also remember all of the faithful departed. In days past it was the custom to celebrate on the next day, the Feast of All Souls. In most of our churches these days there is a tendency to combine the two. If the reason for this combination is a distrust or lack of comfort with those whose heroic virtue or sanctity set them apart in the eyes of their followers, then I would think that the combination of the feast is a mistake. On the other hand one reason to celebrate all of the saints, that is all of those who in faith have gone on to glory, is that saints come in some many shapes and sizes. As the hymn points out they are like you and me, down to the ships and at tea and we each mean to be one too. Here is the communion, the community of holiness and love of which we are all a part.
This is what I hear in the Gospel passage from John's account this morning. Put yourself in the place not of Mary or Martha or the disciples, but instead in the crowd. You are one of those standing, milling about in front of the house or on the road. The tomb of Lazarus is close enough by to see. You wonder what this Jesus might have done if only he had been their on time. Perhaps he took his time realizing that there was nothing that he could do. Now you hear the words of assurance and promise which Jesus speaks to the family of Lazarus. You hear his prayer. You hear him call Lazarus out and see the one who was dead walk out of his tomb.
We are one of the ones who are changed. We may not understand in that moment but we and they will never be the same again. As much as the chosen disciples, here is a beginning of the communion of the saints. It is the communion; the community of those touched by God's love; and once touched we cannot be apart from God or each other.
This Feast of All Saints and indeed of All Souls is an invitation. It is an invitation to stand on the road with Jesus and Martha and Mary. It is an invitation to witness the power of the love of God on each one of us. It is an invitation to be changed and made new. It is an invitation to recognize that by the work of Christ we have been made new and are all the children of God. It is a call of all of us here together and I do not understand how we can respond except together. Our faith is one of love and love cannot be a solitary act. I do not understand how we can respond except together in community, in communion.
I will celebrate the invitation and freedom to change and respond. I will take as a token the willingness of children to change and be different. There is a reason for the music and celebration, for this Feast being one of the great days of faith. It is for the saints to be sure but it is also for us, all of us together.
I sing a song of the saints of God. They live not only in ages past. The world is bright with joyous saints who love to do Jesus will, the saints of God, folk like you and me.
These are the words of the prophet: "On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast…." It is a place and time and moment to come together in joy. This is the communion of the saints and of all the faithful. And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. Then the Lord GOD will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the LORD has spoken. Let us respond to the invitation and join the feast, together as one in joy. This is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. Alleluia. This is the LORD for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation. Thanks be to God. Alleluia. AMEN.
Pentecost 18 (22B, Dedication, Creation 1) Church of the Advent
Cape May, New Jersey
October 4, 2009
Genesis 28: 10-17
Psalm 26
Hebrews 1: 1-4; 2: 5-12
Luke 4: 1- 12
+ There was a young man who announced his devotion to God. Now this was long ago. It was some seventeen hundred years past. Given the time and the place of his birth it was natural for him to go out into the wilderness. His plan was to seek a vision of God or at least the angels.
He first met with an older man, much more experienced in his devotion and prayers. The old man counseled him and urged him to join with others who were like-minded. This man with his newly discovered devotion could learn to pray and to learn how to struggle with temptation and the demons that would afflict him.
The young man was afraid and rejected the old one’s advice. He was afraid that if he stayed and lived in the presence of others, then he would be distracted. So he went off deep into the desert wilderness and found a cave at the top of a high cliff. He lived there for many years, praying without ceasing. There came a time when he began to realize that he had perfected the spiritual life. He saw the angel waiting to hold him and he stepped off the cliff. Some time later the old man came to bind up his injuries.
There was a monk who cared for another who was quarrelsome and greedy. After a time he was afraid of the distraction and he decided to leave the next morning. As the sun rose he stepped out of his cell and met the Lord who asked the monk why he was leaving him.
How do we encounter God? For Jacob it was in the wilderness, alone and free of distraction. He found a stone pillow and dreamed of a ladder and the angels ascending and descending from heaven. He erected a marker (remember the old hymn...an Ebenezer or pile of rocks). It was in the wilderness that he struggled with God and received the name Israel. At the beginning of a season in which we will be mindful of God’s Creation I thought it appropriate to remember that it may be in this wilderness, as we wander in the course of life, wherever we find ourselves, that we may encounter God.
The ancient desert fathers, those who first went into the wilderness to pray, knew the majesty of Creation. They were aware of the experience of Jacob, of Abraham in the desert and on the mountain, of Moses in the desert and, of course, our Lord in the wilderness. The desert, the wilderness, the places of Creation apart from mankind and the works of man can be profoundly spiritual places. They went out into the desert to make their encounter with God.
We might find ourselves well advised to do the same. We could walk quietly on the point looking for butterflies as these handiworks or God pass us by. We could walk on the beach in the morning. Alone, we can be still and listen. In beauty we can begin to discern the faint imprints of the Creator and to be aware that we are surrounded by holiness. This is the presence of the divine. It is appropriate celebrate the Creation. It is there in solitude that we can encounter our God.
Yet those same desert fathers expressed caution as well. As the Gospel passage from Luke reminds us, there is temptation in the wilderness as well as wonder. By stories and teaching such as the one about the monk who though he could fly with the angels and the one in which the monk found the presence of Christ in the one for whom he cared, we understand that we need each other. We are called to love God and God calls us to love one another. Together we make our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. It is not something we do by ourselves. We join to support each other in our prayers. We come together to lift up our prayers for each other and for those in need.
This is a feast day. The central feast is of the Resurrection. It is a Sunday and so we remember the work of Christ on the cross and in his Resurrection. It is also a feast of sorts to the extent that we honor, love and bless those small and not so small creatures that love us and provide us with companionship and whom we, in turn love. We have chosen this day to begin a short season of reflecting on and celebrating God’s Creation. Finally, we have chosen this as a day on which to celebrate this gathering in faith, this parish church. We celebrate this place and the love and labor over many years which have gone into sustaining and maintaining this parish.
So even as I celebrate the handiwork of God, as I seek out the imprints of the divine in Creation, I will celebrate the community of faith. I will celebrate the gift of this parish, the work and devotion and love of each of you and of all of those who have gone on before us. This is not an anniversary; it is a feast of celebration in which we remember and dedicate ourselves to the work to which the Creator calls us.
Go to the wilderness, to the sea and shore and the forest. Walk in the garden and know the presence of the divine. Simply listen. See the work God has done in Creation. See the work he as done as well by our own hands in caring for Creation, its creatures and each other. And having seen and listened and having been still, come here and offer thanks and praise.
Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways. Consider the ways in which we can hear God’s voice, know God presence. The one who makes us holy and each of us who have been blessed, have but one Creator. So our Lord is not ashamed to call us sisters and brothers. Let us join in the midst of the congregation claiming with joy each other, giving thanks and praise to the one who has created us, who cleanses us and who sustains us all. Thanks be to God. AMEN