LOVE your enemies!

Epiphany 7, Year A

February 23, 2014

All Saints’ Church

May the words I speak and the words you hear be God’s alone. Amen.

These past few weeks we’ve been listening to sections of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount series. But rather than the comforting words of the Beatitudes (“Blessed are the peacemakers,” etc.), we’ve been hearing an awful lot of challenging words come out of Jesus’ mouth. Two weeks ago it was about evangelism and being a light to others, last week it was about being in right relationship with each other and with God, and this week we are told to love our enemies. 

Jesus doesn’t say, “tolerate your enemies” or even simply “try to be nice to them.” No, Jesus tells us to love them. Think about an enemy from either your past or your present: maybe it’s a bully or someone who betrayed your trust or caused you pain in some way [pause]. Jesus is telling you to love them and pray for them. 

I don’t know about you, but I find this to be one of the most difficult things Jesus tells us to do. Now, I want to be clear that when Jesus tells us to love our enemies he is not condoning any acts of violence that have committed. Neither is he telling us that we have to like them as a person. Rather, he is telling us to let go of the toxic feelings that hate brings. There are some people from my past who just thinking about things they did or said to me makes my blood boil and my teeth clench to this day. But in reacting this way, I am giving them power over me; I am still under their grip! Bottling up the collective anger and hurt from over the years does us no good. And even if we had gotten even with our enemies (“an eye for an eye”), the feeling of satisfaction would not make up for the pain we experienced. And so Jesus tells us to love them and pray for them.    

A few years ago one of my friends was having difficulty getting along with someone. Since they lived in the same area and saw each other often, my friend decided that instead of complaining about the person or stewing about the unpleasant situation, she would try to do something about it. As luck would have it, the season of Lent was right around the corner, so my friend made it her Lenten spiritual practice to pray for this person every single day. Throughout the 40 days she kept up this practice of praying for this person she found so difficult to be around. When Easter came, my friend and this person had not magically become best friends, but my friend was able to be in the same room with the person without wanting to scream, so that was a major improvement. More than this, though, my friend had come to a deeper appreciation of who this person was as a beloved child of God. 

Another one of my friends was preparing for a month-long trip. She and a fellow traveler got into a huge argument in the weeks leading up to the trip. Wanting to have a good traveling experience, my friend called the other traveler to address their issues. In listening to one another, they discovered that their argument had resulted because of a series of miscommunications; once they figured out what the other person had actually meant, the hard feelings evaporated, and they were able to enjoy their trip, even becoming pretty good friends by the end. Imagine what they would have missed out on if they hadn’t addressed their issues!

These two examples are pretty mild ones, but they illustrate how prayer and intentional, honest, and open communication can sometimes be pathways to loving our enemies. 

The reading from Leviticus presents a different way of thinking about loving: “love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). In this case, we’re not talking specifically about enemies (although sometimes our neighbors can fit that description); neighbor means anyone outside of your family circle. So often we can be tempted to stay away from anyone who acts or looks or speaks or dresses differently than we do. In this country we frequently isolate ourselves, surrounding ourselves with people who look and vote and believe the same way we do, just because it’s safer or easier than opening up to someone new (there’s less risk involved).

But I actually find that in many cases our biggest enemy is, in fact, ourselves. All of us experience times when we feel inadequate, overwhelmed by self-doubt and uncertain if we are up to the tasks before us. When the constant internal monologue turns into a negative stream of thinking, it can keep us rooted in a place of fear rather than of love.   

One of the best examples of loving your neighbor as yourself happened in 2006. On an October morning in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, a man approached an Amish school. He sent away all adults and boys, barricading himself in the school with 10 girls as hostage. Two sisters figured out what he was doing and tried to convince the man to shoot them and let the other girls go. Police tried to intervene, but the man shot all of the girls before ending his own life. Four of the girls were killed. To this day, the motives of the man, who was not Amish, are unclear. But the Amish, deeply steeped in their faith, recognized that they must immediately respond to this neighbor with love and not vengeance. Just a few hours after the shooting, members of the community went to the man’s house to comfort his widow and family, one of them embracing the man’s father for an hour as the father cried. Thirty community members attended the man’s funeral, and his widow was invited to attend one of the funerals for one of the girls. What’s more, they even set up a fund to help the man’s widow take care of their three young children. 

Love like this can only come from a place rooted in peace and the practice of loving your neighbor as yourself. We root ourselves by coming together to pray for the world, our neighbors, and our enemies. We root ourselves by reading and then incorporating into our daily lives the tough lessons Jesus teaches us. We root ourselves by passing the peace and then joining our neighbors around the Eucharistic table, sharing together in the Body and Blood of Christ that propels us into the world. In these ways, we invite God to dwell in us.      

Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, tells us that we “are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in [us]” (1 Cor 3:16). If our “foundation is Jesus Christ,” and “God’s Spirit dwells in us,” then perhaps, over time, we can learn to love our enemies, neighbors, and ourselves (1 Cor 3:15-16).  

Image found here.

Info about the Amish school shooting found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amish_school_shooting

right relationship

Epiphany 6, Year A

February 16, 2014

St. George’s Chapel

May the words I speak and the words you hear be God's alone. Amen.

I think whoever came up with today’s selection of readings wanted to throw preachers a curve ball. All week long those of us now standing behind the pulpit have struggled with these texts, willing a sermon to spring up out of the difficult lessons. In the readings we’ve got life & death choices, “jealousy and quarreling,” Paul calling the Corinthians babies, murder, adultery, divorce, a hell of fire, and tearing out of limbs. While it is very tempting to avoid all these difficult topics and find only the parts that are easy or straightforward, that’s not what we’re going to do today. 

Today in the readings we hear several times about commandments. For the Israelites, there are not just the 10 Commandments that Moses brought down from the mountain, but there are 603 others. 603! They deal with pretty much all aspects of life, from temple practices like sacrifices and offerings, to how to conduct oneself in times of war, to what kind of fabric to wear/not wear, to how to treat the poor, most especially widows and orphans. 

To outsiders, these commandments may seem oppressive. It’s hard enough to follow the 10 commandments, let alone 603 others. I don’t know about you, but I found honoring my father and mother to be quite difficult growing up, especially when I was a teenager. And I often catch myself coveting other people’s stuff. At least I’m good as far as the murdering part is concerned, and I’m not planning on getting a divorce--that counts for something, right? Wrong, at least according to the Gospel reading for today. Jesus says that “if you are angry with a brother or sister” you might as well have murdered them. And if you look at someone with lust in your heart, you have already committed adultery. C’mon, Jesus, give us a break! What’s with all of these rules? 

I think when God gave the 10 commandments and then the 603 others, God’s purpose wasn’t trying to figure out ways to make life more difficult for the Israelites. I believe God’s purpose was to make sure that in every aspect of our life we were thinking about God--that every decision we made required us to take into consideration that we are children of God and should therefore behave accordingly. That every minute of every day we remembered that God brought the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt into the freedom of the promised land. That every time we come into contact with another person we remembered that all people are a creation of God and should receive our respect. The commandments are really about relationships: our relationships with God and with each other. 

Jesus is reiterating these relationships in Matthew’s Gospel. It’s not enough to just look at the big picture: just because we don’t shoot someone when we’re angry with them doesn’t mean we should get a pat on the back or a gold star. All the little things we do, like being jealous or angry or calling people names, all these little things tear apart--literally dis-member--the Body of Christ. These things we do to each other eat away at the fabric of our community, weakening our relationships with each other and also with God. 

We come to realize how important these relationships are because we are able to see the pain that results when they are broken. Family members estranged because of an argument. Friendships ruined by deceit or jealousy. Marriages ended by lack of communication or betrayal. Not one person here hasn’t been affected by bitter arguments, lost friendships, or divorce on some level. The more we have committed to a relationship, the more pain we feel when it comes to an end. That’s why we are urged to take our commitments to each other seriously. To take our vows seriously. To take the commandments seriously. Relationships are not to be taken lightly; they are  everything. In fact, the whole concept of the Trinity, of the essence of God, is relationship: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by all of this, then you are not alone. In fact, you’re actually right where you’re supposed to be. Another point of the commandments is to help us to realize that we are unable to keep them on our own. The commandments remind us that we desperately need God in our lives. We are constantly doing things which fall short of where we are called to be, constantly damaging relationships with each other and with God. 

But this is where God steps in. Throughout the course of our relationship as God’s people, the pattern is as follows: we get ourselves into a mess and God comes in to fix it. We say we’re sorry, God forgives us, and all is well...until the next time we mess up. God doesn’t have to, but time and time again God chooses to bail us out. We push against God and God’s ways, but God does not abandon us. And to show us just how much God really loves us, God became one of us, came and met us on our terms, reached us on our level. God came to us to try to repair the damage we had done, to fix the tear in our relationship with God. Jesus taught us how we should act toward God and how we should treat each other. He never said it was going to be easy, he just said, “Follow me."  

A friend of mine recently posted a quote by G. K. Chesterton in one of her blog posts. The quote read, “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried.” [repeat] The readings for today are compelling us to do the hard work of being Christian, of being in right relationship with one another and with God.  

There’s a thanksgiving prayer in the back of our Book of Common Prayer that expresses these thoughts better than I can. Everyone please take out your BCP and turn to page 836. [pause] The prayer I’m referring to is called “A General Thanksgiving” and was written by a professor at Virginia Theological Seminary. I want to draw your attention to the third and fourth paragraphs. Pray with me: 

“We thank you for setting us at tasks which demand our best efforts, 

and for leading us to accomplishments which satisfy and delight us. 

We thank you also for those disappointments and failures 

which lead us to acknowledge our dependence on you alone” (BCP 836).

These powerful words were written after the professor's daughter died suddenly in a tragic accident.

Every day we have on this earth is a gift. The experience of being in right relationship with each other and with God is challenging, yes, but it is also incredibly rewarding. Through it all God will be cheering us on, there to pick us up when we fall and to celebrate with us when we succeed. 

In the words of today’s Collect: “O God, the strength of all who put their trust in you: Mercifully accept our prayers; and because in our weakness we can do nothing good without you, give us the help of your grace, that in keeping your commandments we may please you both in will and deed; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

"The Creation of Adam"

one of the frescoes by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel 

[image found here]

"e" who must not be named

Epiphany 5, Year A

February 9, 2014

All Saints’ Church

May the words I speak and the words you hear be God’s alone. Amen.

The scene opens in a dark chamber, the light from the wildly flickering candles creating shadows that dance ominously on the stone wall. A blonde (it’s always a blonde) woman is tied to a chair, struggling mightily but unsuccessfully to free herself. At that moment the door opens and the villain enters, his lips curling into a sinister grin at the sight of the damsel in distress’ vain attempts to get free. “What do you want from me?” she cries. “You can have my money, just let me go!” “You know what I want,” he replies. “I’ve already asked you.” The woman’s eyes open wide and she recoils in horror. “No, not that! Anything but that! I won’t do it. You can’t make me!” 

This, my friends, is the scenario that I imagine whenever someone mentions the dreaded e-word. You know which e-word I’m talking about: EVANGELISM. This word strikes fear into the hearts of most Episcopalians. Yet this is exactly what the readings for today are urging us to do. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus says, “You are the light of the world...let your light shine before others” (Matthew 5:14,16). We are to share the Good News of Jesus and the Kingdom of Heaven with the world! “A city on a hill cannot be hidden” (Matt 5:14). We are that city on the hill. For various reasons, we have chosen to follow Jesus, but his story is not meant to be a well-kept secret; it’s not meant to be hidden but shared with the world. 

So what exactly is it about evangelism that terrifies us? Maybe it’s that we are afraid of offending people. We don’t want to be accused of forcing our religion on others--and that’s definitely not what I’m advocating. Too often evangelism conjures up images of people shouting on street corners or handing out frightful tracts, of judgement and condemnation, hellfire and brimstone. The word evangelism has been hijacked and it’s time we reclaim the word. Instead of speaking from a place of fear, we are spreading the Good News of God’s incredible, unending love for us.  

Now, I don’t live under a bushel basket; I know that not everyone will appreciate your invitation. And I’m not telling you to be pushy or rude about it, either; after all, as the saying goes, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” If you’ve made an offer and someone declines, don’t push it.

Perhaps the biggest fear about evangelism is that we believe ourselves to be insufficient to the task; we are not faithful enough, or educated enough in matters of faith to speak with any sort of authority. Paul, himself, speaks of his insecurities in his letter to the Corinthians, “I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling” (1 Corinthians 2:1-3). 

Throughout the Bible, we see that God chooses unexpected people to further God’s will, people no one would consider “worthy” for the task. Esther, a humble Jewish woman, becomes queen and uses her new position to save her people, risking her life in the process. Moses, a murderer with a stutter, leads the Jews out of slavery in Egypt, a journey that will eventually bring them to the promised land. Fishermen, tax collectors, and other “lowly” men are chosen to be Jesus’ disciples. Saul, a persecutor of Christians, becomes Paul, who after his conversion, spends the rest of his life teaching about Jesus, spreading the Gospel to the four corners of the earth. If God can work through them, then God can definitely work through us, no matter how unworthy we feel. After all, it is not our own ability; it is Christ working through us that will give us the words we need. 

One of the problems we have with evangelism is that in our society we tend to think of faith as merely personal. But this is not true Christianity. Matthew’s Gospel says, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” (Matthew 18:20). We come together as a community to learn from one another. God is working through all of us, and your experiences of struggle and success can give the rest of us insights into our own faith journeys.  

You may be saying to yourself, “Who am I, to speak of this?” Who are you not to?

“But, Mother Lara, what about that quote by St. Francis? You know, ‘Preach the Gospel at all times; when necessary, use words’?” First of all, I love this quote, and it has a great message. I think the point the quote is trying to make is that you have to walk the walk if you’re gonna talk the talk. Yes, how we live our lives, how we choose to act toward one another is an important part of the Christian life. But talking is part of it, too!  

How has your belief in Christ changed your life? How have you been nourished by the Gospel? How have your struggles with faith led to a deeper relationship with God and with the world around you? This is what I’m suggesting you share with your friends, and ask about their experiences, too. You don’t have to talk about certain theologies or the nitty gritty details of faith. You just need to be real. 

This past Thursday the Episcopal Church remembered the sacrifice of the martyrs of Japan. In the 1500s Jesuit and Franciscan missionaries went to spread the Gospel to the people of Japan. They actually ended up getting quite a following: around 300,000 people by the end of the century. Sadly, because of unfortunate circumstances including the capture of a foreign ship loaded with ammunition and the captain’s explanation that after Christianity spread invasion usually followed, the Japanese government outlawed any religions other than Buddhism and Shinto. Not only did they outlaw Christianity, however, they made an example out of the followers. 26 Christians, both foreign priests and local Japanese, were hung on crosses and then stabbed. Japan then effectually shut down trade with most foreigners. After about 250 years, commerce with the outside world was once again allowed and religious restrictions were lifted. People discovered that the church, thought to be annihilated during the time of persecution, had gone underground. There were pockets of Christian communities, about 30,000 people, who had secretly kept the faith. It had changed somewhat, but Christianity was still alive. 

The Word of God cannot be killed by human action or inaction; it has survived countless threats and persecutions. 

You know, I have a hard time with evangelism, too. It can often be quite awkward. Yes, I went to seminary for 3 years at a great school and I learned so much, but you can spend a whole lifetime and not come close to understanding God. Every week I stand up in the pulpit and attempt to communicate the love of God in Christ. If I happen to succeed, it is only because the Holy Spirit has somehow taken my muddled words and translated them into a truth you are able to understand.

Friends, I am not asking you to teach theology but to share why you love Jesus, why you love the church. How about inviting someone to join you on Sunday morning, or participate in handbell practice, or come listen to one of our amazing concerts? If your neighbor is struggling with something, offer to come over and pray with him or her. If a friend is trying to find meaning in their lives, share what has brought meaning to yours.

Evangelism doesn’t have to make us think of old horror movies. We are called to plant the seeds of faith and let the Holy Spirit do the rest. Let the love of Christ work in you and the light of Christ will shine through you. “You are the light of the world...let your light shine before others” (Matthew 5:14,16).

Information on the martyrs of Japan found here and here.

a meditation on sacrifice

The Feast of the Presentation of our Lord, Year A

February 2, 2014

St. George’s Chapel

May the words I speak and the words you hear be God's alone. Amen. 

Presentation of Jesus in the temple

Today we commemorate the feast of the presentation of our Lord. In Jewish tradition, all firstborn sons were to be taken to the temple around 40 days after their birth. There, the parents would sacrifice a sheep--or, if they couldn’t afford a sheep, some birds--to redeem, or buy back, their sons from having to serve as temple priests*. This served as a reminder of the tenth and final plague in Egypt, where the angel of death killed all the first-born sons of the Egyptians, but left the Israelite children alone (Exodus 13:15).  

I don’t know about you, but I get a little uncomfortable when I think about religious animal sacrifices. They seem so barbaric or cruel, like a waste of life. I’m grateful that, as your priest, I don’t have to slaughter animals and burn them on the altar; it would be a bit much for this vegetarian to handle. 

But before we get too smug and think that Christianity is different than or superior to other religions because we don’t have these types of sacrifices, remember that sacrifice, in one form or another, is a component of pretty much all major world religions.  We worship a God whose Son willingly sacrificed himself for our sins. The symbol for Christianity is the instrument of his death. When we gather together for Communion, we break bread and drink wine, but it is more than just food and drink; it is the Body and Blood of Jesus, shed for us. 

If you think about it, sacrifice is essential to Christianity. But most of the time, we don’t like to think about it. It’s much easier to just think of God as this nice but far removed entity who created us and then pretty much left us alone and just wants us to be happy. This, however, is not the God we worship. But--we might think--what kind of God would demand human sacrifice? Isn’t that extreme?

In the letter to the Romans, Paul tells us that “the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 6:23). The collective sin of humans couldn’t be ignored, but had to be addressed. If there were no punishment for misbehavior, then what would stop people from doing wrong? Our sin demanded a response. 

But the beautiful and amazing thing about this is that God responded by providing a way out for all of us. God, in Jesus, became flesh and blood, just like us. Jesus was raised by his mother and adopted father, roughhoused and argued with his siblings, experienced fear and love and temptation, just like us. Jesus taught the world about God’s love for us and how we are to respond with love for God and all of God’s creation.   And in response to our sins, Jesus offered to take our place, once and for all. Jesus freely gave up his life for ours, restoring our relationship with God. 

Our eucharistic liturgy uses sacrificial language to commemorate this incredible gift. Jesus “stretched out his arms upon the cross, and offered himself in obedience to [God’s] will, a perfect sacrifice for the whole world” (BCP 362). After the bread is broken we say, “Alleluia. Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us” (BCP 364). 

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). Jesus sacrificed himself for us and promised us eternal life, redeeming us--buying us back--from the hands of death. But while there is no longer a requirement for human sacrifice, it does not mean that sacrifice isn’t still in the picture.  

Sacrifice is a part of everyday life. In sports, there’s the familiar saying, “no pain, no gain.” Olympic athletes sacrifice money as well as years of their lives devoting themselves to a particular sport. They train, pushing their bodies beyond normal limits. They have special diets. They often have to be away from their families for weeks, months, sometimes even years. They give up normal lives for the chance to represent their countries doing what they love. 

The same goes for musicians. In order to become proficient at or master playing an instrument, you have to practice, sacrificing time spent doing other things. Performance majors in college are expected to practice anywhere from 4-10 hours a day, depending on their instrument. I can only imagine that professional musicians practice more. 

Other professions require sacrifice, as well, whether it be the money and time spent on getting the degree or certification, or the long hours and extra projects, or the medical charts or grading papers or planning curriculum. 

Almost anything in our lives, or at least anything worth doing, requires some aspect of sacrifice. Relationships between people are no different. We compromise on everything from meal choices to vacations to how to discipline kids to where (and when) to retire. We sacrifice time spent with friends to spend time with our spouses, and vice versa. We sacrifice living near our families if we find our dream job. We sacrifice sleep if our loved one needs help writing a last-minute paper or *ahem* sermon. 

Having a relationship with God involves sacrifices, too. Going to church on Sunday morning instead of golfing. Giving up a few extra minutes of sleep in order to start the day in prayer. Setting aside some of your hard-earned money to give back in thanksgiving for God’s blessings. Spending the morning ushering or serving or being a crossing guard or teaching Sunday School rather than sitting in the congregation. Volunteering at the thrift shop or homeless shelter rather than relaxing at home. The eucharistic prayer even speaks of the celebration of communion as a “sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving” (BCP 363). We offer up to God our praise and thanksgiving for the gift of life in this world and for the sacrifice Christ made so we could live in the next. 

After her husband dies, the prophet Anna devotes the rest of her life to fasting and praying to God. Simeon, a righteous and devout man, has been promised by the Holy Spirit “that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah” (Luke 2:26). Both Anna and Simeon, in their old age, recognize the hope of redemption that the child Jesus brings to the world. As he cradles Jesus in his arms, he says words immortalized in the service of compline, “Lord, you now have set your servant free* to go in peace as you have promised; for these eyes of mine have seen the Savior,* whom you have prepared for all the world to see: A light to enlighten the nations,* and the glory of your people Israel” (BCP 135). 

The assurance of God’s love comes to us in the form of our Savior, Jesus. In his sacrifice, we have been freed from the bondage of sin and are welcomed into eternal life. Because of his sacrifice, we are also able to “go in peace to love and serve the Lord. Thanks be to God!” (BCP 366).

Image found here.

*Information on the Jewish custom of presentation found here.

"follow me"

3rd Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

January 26, 2014

All Saints’ Church

“Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation” (part of today’s collect, found on p. 215 of the BCP). Amen. 

Jesus’ ministry begins in earnest during a period of darkness. Israel is under control of the ruthless Roman Empire. Jesus has just emerged from the desert, where he has been tempted by the devil. As soon as he returns, he finds out that his cousin, John the Baptist, has been imprisoned. Jesus moves to a new town and expands upon his cousin’s message of repentance. As he is walking by the sea spreading this message, he comes upon two brothers, casting their nets into the sea. Jesus says “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (Matt 4:19). Immediately, Simon and Andrew drop what they’re doing and come to him, leaving the net to float at the mercy of the sea. The three men walk along the beach until they come to another set of brothers, mending their nets in the company of their father. Jesus calls, and they get up and leave their father, gaping open-mouthed, behind. 

Frankly, this scene creeps me out a little bit. In my mind I picture the disciples as lemmings, blindly following a stranger just because he said, “Come.” I have so many questions about the scene: Was there really no dialogue at all? How did Zebedee, James’ and John’s dad, react to his sons leaving him alone like that? Did they give him a hug before they left, or settle their affairs, or have lunch together one last time? Was he hurt, sending them off with curses and angry threats? How many times did Jesus try this on other people before these four said yes? And the biggest question of all, what was so compelling about Jesus that complete strangers would leave their lives behind to respond to his call? 

Unfortunately, I cannot find answers to these questions, and my speculations are unsatisfactory. All we know is what we hear today: Jesus says “Come, follow me” and two sets of brothers get up and do just that. 

But what does it mean for us to follow Jesus? In many ways, the disciples had it a lot easier than we do. They had a living, breathing, talking Jesus to follow. He told them what to do, how to act. How are we supposed to follow Jesus today?

We begin to follow Jesus first by learning about him. We can’t call him up and ask him questions, but we have access to accounts of his life and those of his followers. Every Sunday we read aloud from these accounts and get to know Jesus and understand his teachings a little better. There are other ways we learn about Jesus. If you’re curious and/or studious, you can read the countless writings of theologians, who ponder everything from whether the bread and wine literally become Jesus’ body and blood to attempts at explaining the Trinity. Another way to learn about Jesus is through the traditions passed down from generation to generation of Christians. One of these traditions is the calendar year, which sets aside time to celebrate and remember important occasions, like Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection. Learning about Jesus is a life-long process.

As we learn about Jesus, we try to listen to where God is calling us. We do this both individually and communally. We pray for direction and guidance for world leaders, for leaders of our local communities, and for ourselves. We listen to each other as we try to make decisions in line with our faith. Listening is a huge part of any relationship, and our relationship with Jesus is no different. 

Finally, we follow Jesus with our actions. Donald Miller, in his book Blue Like Jazz, writes, “What I believe is not what I say I believe; what I believe is what I do” [repeat]. Jesus gives his followers several commands: feed the hungry, tend the sick, clothe the naked; “love your enemies,” “don’t store up treasures,” “pick up your cross and follow me” (Matthew 25:31-46; Matthew 5:44; Matthew 6:19; Matthew 16:24). Following Jesus helps us to realize that we are not isolated in our faith but are connected to every human being. Each person is “wonderfully and fearfully made,” and a beloved child of God (Psalm 139:14). What affects one person in some way affects us all.

I’ve talked about how to follow Jesus, but perhaps you’re wondering why. 

This past week one of my seminary professors and her wife gave the keynote address at a conference about Christian formation. They both reflected on how in our society epic storytelling is what sells. For example, there is a google ad that came out a few months ago. In this ad, a granddaughter listens as her grandfather tells about his childhood best friend, who he has been separated from for over 50 years during the partition of India and Pakistan. Using google, she quickly locates his long-lost best friend, buys him a ticket, and reunites the two as a birthday present for her grandfather. While google is certainly useful, I doubt very seriously that it is used for such a dramatic purpose on a regular basis. I bet it gets used a lot more to find movie times or sports scores than to bring together people torn apart by geopolitics. 

Then there’s our culture’s obsession with magic and superheroes. It seems like every time we turn around there’s another movie about spiderman, superman, batman, or vampires. I think the reason these stories are so attractive is because they are so powerful, dramatic, seemingly far superior to our normal, everyday lives.  

But what my seminary professor and her wife pointed out is that we have the most epic story of all, we just don’t always do a great job of selling it. Think about it. We follow a guy who lived over 2000 years ago. He taught about God. He taught about how we should treat each other. He hung out with social rejects and leaders of society. He healed people who were sick or impaired. He turned water into wine, fed thousands of people with a few loaves and fishes, and brought back some people from the dead. When he was put to death, it seemed that his cause was lost. But 3 days later he came back. Not all shiny and new but with wounds that were still visible. But what really makes this story epic is not that Jesus was a pretty nice guy who had a few superpowers. What makes this story epic is that Jesus was God made flesh. The Creator of the stars, who set the planets in their courses, who separated the light from the dark and gave breath to every living creature, who formed this intricate and extraordinary, breathtaking and heart-wrenching world--this God became one of the creatures God so tenderly made. In Jesus God walked along the same roads as humans. God laughed and joked and wept--experienced joy and disappointment, loss and heartbreak. And by doing this, God reconnected with us, God’s people, who had gotten disconnected from God over the years. Because of this, nothing “can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:39). Not our faults, not our failures. Not even our humanity.

What is more epic than this story? This is why we follow Jesus. A love like his compels us to follow. And so follow we must. Just as Jesus called Simon, Andrew, James, and John, he is also calling you. He is calling you to put away your pens, spreadsheets, and projects. So put down your net...books and follow him. 

Image found here.

the springing off point

First Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

January 12, 2014

All Saints’ Church

May the words I speak and the words you hear be God’s alone. Amen. 

Just a week ago we heard about the visit of three wise men to the baby Jesus, followed by the Holy Family’s escape to Egypt and eventual return to Nazareth. In today’s readings we have fast-forwarded to Jesus at the ripe old age of about 30. We know very little about what happened in between those years. There’s one story about Jesus staying behind in Jerusalem during a festival without telling his parents and so scaring them half to death, but other than that, Jesus’ childhood and adolescence are a mystery. 

The writers and compilers of the Bible think very carefully about each and every word they write, so pay very close attention to what the authors include and what they do not. Presumably Jesus has a typical childhood, so it is not worth mentioning. Matthew chooses to continue the story of Jesus at his baptism. This moment is a turning point in Jesus’ life. He is no longer a child, but has become a man, and his baptism becomes a springing off point for his ministry. Immediately following his baptism, Jesus is sent into the wilderness before returning to preach, teach, heal, and call his disciples (Matthew 4). In the reading from Acts, the author states that the message of peace that God sends to Israel “[begins] in Galilee after the baptism that John announce[s]” (Acts 10:37). 

John, Jesus’ cousin, the one who leaps in Elizabeth’s womb when he hears Mary’s voice, is the one who “prepares the way” for Jesus. He’s the one who compels people to repent and get baptized in order to forgive their sins as the kingdom of heaven arrives. Jesus seeks out John and asks to be baptized by him. John recognizes that Jesus is the Messiah, and is uncomfortable with Jesus’ request. But Jesus seeks to be baptized not because he needs forgiveness, but because this joins him to all those who’ve been baptized. God gives Jesus a sign of affirmation through the Holy Spirit, which gives him the strength to begin this next phase of his life. 

We are joined to Jesus Christ in our baptism. When we are baptized we become part of something much bigger than just our family unit or church community or even the wider Church.  When we are baptized, we join the communion of saints, all those who have come before us. When we are baptized, we become part of the Body of Christ, and heirs to his kingdom and the message he proclaims (BCP 858). 

In a few moments, we are going to renew our own baptismal covenant. We will begin by saying together the Apostle’s Creed, a summary of our belief in God (BCP 304). Then we will promise, with God’s help, to continue to gather together to worship, read Scripture, pray, and share Communion. With God’s help we will resist evil and ask for forgiveness when we stray. With God’s help we will spread the message of God’s grace and love spoken through Christ. With God’s help we will look at each and every person we meet as worthy of love and respect, and work to bring justice and peace to all people. 

Too often Christianity can seem like a club; so many times the emphasis is placed on belonging to a specific church or denomination. However, membership in the Body of Christ should not be inward-facing but outwardly-focused. My previous rector likes to tell the story of an experience with one particular group of eighth grade confirmands. They were gathered in the church around the altar while the rector explained to them about the Eucharist. The eighth graders were listening as best they could, when the rector asked them a question. “What is the most important piece of furniture in a church?” The kids looked at him. He repeated the question, this time patting the altar, “What is the most important piece of furniture in a church?” Without hesitating, a boy answered, “the exit sign.” [facepalm] “The exit sign?” the rector asked, becoming quite irritated that the kid wasn’t taking the lesson seriously. “What do you mean, ‘the exit sign’?” The boy replied, “because after the service we exit and go out into the world.” Membership in the Body of Christ should not be inward-facing but outwardly-focused. 

When you go out of these doors today, what are you going to do? How can you work toward fulfilling the promises you made in the covenant? Living into our promises is not an easy task, but remember that Jesus went through the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry. Be nourished by the Body and Blood of Christ, broken and shed for you. Draw strength in the fact that we are loved beyond reason and all of us are in this together. Know that with God’s help, we can “accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine” (Eph 3:20). 

So let’s roll up our sleeves and get to work! 

Image found here.

journeys

Second Sunday after Christmas, Year A

St. George’s Chapel

January 5, 2014

"Happy are the people whose strength is in you! * whose hearts are set on the pilgrims' way" (Psalm 84:4). Amen.

Rest on the Flight to Egypt by Merson

Image found here.

For many folks, the past few weeks have been filled with laughter, gifts, and lots and lots of traveling. Whether you hosted visitors or took to the roads or airways yourself, the Christmas season is chock full of journeys. 

This is fitting for the season, as the Gospel accounts we have listened to over the past few weeks have involved a lot of traveling as well. In Advent we heard about Mary’s visit to her cousin, Elizabeth. The young pregnant woman immediately seeks out the company of the elderly pregnant woman, both unexpectedly about to be first-time mothers. In both miraculous situations--one is a virgin and the other is past the age of childbirth--they come to realize that “nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37). 

On Christmas Eve we heard about Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem, the land of Joseph’s ancestor, King David. Instead of staying in their hometown, they must travel a great distance to be recorded for the census. There, in a barn, Mary gives birth to Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. Even though far from home, nearby shepherds, joined by the angels who gave them the good news, gather around the manger to praise and worship the newborn King. 

Tomorrow is Epiphany, when we remember the wise men and the child they journeyed to worship. The season afterward is filled with light, remembering the star that led the magi to the Christ Child, who was and is the “light of all people,” the light that “shines in the darkness” (John 1:4,5). They traveled a great distance (probably all the way from Persia), and I’m sure had many adventures along the way.

Today’s Gospel reading from Matthew tells of a few journeys, as well, each sparked by a dream of Joseph’s. It’s nice to hear a little bit more about Jesus’ adopted father; he seems to get the short end of the stick so often, but in Matthew’s Gospel we get a peek at the man who helps raise God’s Son. The wise men have just left the stable, and Joseph receives a message from an angel of the Lord, who comes to him in a dream. The angel warns him of King Herod.

You see, before the wise men reach Bethlehem, they stop by Jerusalem to ask for directions to the “king of the Jews” (Matt 2:2). I can picture Herod, the provisional king of Judea who considers himself to be Jewish (that’s debatable), spewing his drink out at this news. “Wait a minute--I’m the king. Who dares challenge my authority?!” He calls the wise men to come over and shrewdly gives them directions to Bethlehem, telling them to come back and report to him what they find. 

Well, after they find Jesus, the wise men are “warned in a dream not to return to Herod” (v. 12). Herod does not appreciate their deception, and so because he does not know the identity of this “king of the Jews,” he has every child in and around Bethlehem age two and under killed, just to be on the safe side (v. 2). He will not see his power taken from him, and commands this horrible act, bringing to mind the pharaoh of Egypt’s killing of Hebrew children, from which Moses so narrowly escapes. 

Joseph has been warned by an angel, though, and they get out of Bethlehem just in time. The family spends a few years away, ironically in the land of Egypt that held the Israelites captive for so many years. But this is not the first time that Egypt has been a safe haven for Israelites. The Hebrew patriarch Abraham and his wife, matriarch Sarah, journeyed to Egypt, following God’s command. Their great grandson Joseph, the one with the coat of many colors, was sold to traders in Egypt and eventually rose to power and brought his whole family there during a famine. Egypt has a special place in the salvation history of the Israelites, and so it seems fitting that Jesus’ story should also include time spent there.

When Herod dies, an angel comes to Joseph in a dream again, and the family packs their things and returns to life in Israel. They avoid Judea and return to Nazareth, where Mary and Joseph had begun their life together. This is where Jesus, whose name means “the Lord saves,” grows up until he begins journeying on his own (n. 1:21). 

Our lives are permeated by journeys as well. As we begin this new year, we pause to reflect on the paths we have taken, the journeys--both physical and spiritual--we have participated in, and the people we have met along the way. We are formed by these journeys. Each one teaches us new things about who we are and who we have the potential of becoming. 

Many people use the beginning of the year to come up with resolutions. If you’re like me they are well-intentioned but the list is too long to realistically accomplish all of them: get in shape, eat better, learn an instrument, keep the house clean, write a song, clean the gutters, start a garden, pray more, watch less TV, and on and on and on....  

What if, instead of a list of tasks to accomplish, we look at each item as a journey, a path that will take us somewhere new and exciting? Rather than viewing eating better and getting in shape as doctor’s orders, think of it as an opportunity for exploring new recipes and delighting in the inner strength you find as you come to regard your body as a temple. As an alternative to praying more just because you should (that one’s on my list), think of it as exploring the world with God at your side, sharing stories of your travels and listening to where God is calling you next. And God is with us. Emmanuel, God with us, Jesus, the Lord saves. Our journeys are connected to the journeys of the people before us; we are a part of the great salvation story. 

Whatever your resolutions, journeying is in our history, it’s in our DNA. What new paths are waiting for you? What exciting things will you experience along the way?

Pack your bags; we’re in for quite a ride!

Flight into Egypt.

Image found here.